Saturday: Book Segment #3

August 24, 2005
“Give it away.”

I struggle trying to capture and respond to the interactions I am experiencing with Valerie. The familiar warmth that burns slowly blue in her eyes is absent. They are wintry. Vacant. Somewhere far away remain the remnants of wounds I inflicted; dishonor, mistrust, deceit. Their presence moans, haunting the surroundings like wind shivers peeling across the splinters of an abandoned home. Jim’s counsel is that I must allow these feelings to “live in me” as a part of the “wilderness process”. He says I don’t deserve warmth or understanding right now. So, the parasite burrows deeper. The ache spreads like an infection. The concept of losing my wife is tragic; the idea of losing my best friend is intolerable. Maybe that’s the point; that I need to be a man and seek forgiveness, loving her without expecting anything in return. As Jim has said from the beginning of the separation, “My wish for you both is that you go through this well. Wander. Experience. Trust faith. Then we’ll see if your faith really has legs.”

It is difficult to hurt and trust at the same time.

Somewhere in the warm flesh of my emptiness, the parasite pauses, its belly full. And then it eats on.

August 30, 2005

Taking a Vacation: Exactly 30 Days of Separation

• 30 days
• 720 hours
• 43,200 minutes
• 2,592,000 seconds

But, who’s counting?

I’ve avoided writing. I’m not exactly sure why, but I’ve certainly been avoiding writing anything for the last three weeks. Probably because I was coming up on my scheduled vacation time. Taking seven whole days to do…nothing. Friends queried with the standards like, “So, where are you going for your vacation? To the mountains to cool off? Tropical island for some snorkeling? To San Francisco to be with your kids? A long drive to the gulf?” Actually, the answer is nowhere. No, I’m staying put. This will be the first time in six years since we’ve…oops…I’ve taken a vacation without family. Just for relaxation. Reflection. Actually, I have never spent a week completely alone. So here’s the picture as I framed it: Me, Bentley )my miniature dapple Dachshund), the one bedroom apartment, some books, some movies, some painting, some walks, music, intermittent beers, a round of golf, maybe even a few conversations with some of my friends. And then there’s this sense that God wants this time to be spent with Him – just the two of us. One-on-one. Hang time with the Big Guy. OK, I know some of you might be wondering if I’m going to say that I heard this big, deep voice that sounds curiously James Earl calling my name in the middle of a meeting. Or maybe that I saw a word formation in the foam of my Starbucks half-caff grandé latte with a little cinnamon powder looking a bit like Mother Teresa. Truth is, ever since we made the decision to do the separation, I hear whispers in the unlikeliest ways; pennies found on the street, an errant cool breeze through the trees, a passage in a book, the first tune that plays when I hit “shuffle” on my iPod, an empty corner in my heart, gauzy arms reaching out to hold me from a cloud formation….

*…an aside: Here’s a brief commentary about Jim’s Rules of Non-Engagement [RNE]: For anyone is considering doing the separation route let me share a bit of ambiguity with the rules. Cardinal Sin #1: ABSOLUTELY NO CONTACT EXCEPT THE WEEKLY SESSIONS. Unless it is something that only the other person can answer, it will have major financial ramifications, it is an emergency involving kids or family, or in the unlikely event that you have burst into flames and the other person has the only extinguisher in the universe. Otherwise such contact might imply to the other person that this was, in fact, a gesture towards re-engagement. This implies that a call about the bank balance might be an act of “passive-aggressive hoping”, of which we are absolutely forbidden. Implies making a too early decision. Implies taking a too early position. Might mean we are not respecting the “rules of non-engagement”. If we find ourselves in the heat of a panicked moment we must flip to our handy RNE laminated card stating clearly in Rule #4 that we must not call each other or send an email unless we have asked ourselves three times, minimum, whether we REALLY need to make this contact. “What is the hidden agenda behind the message about the deposit into your account this month?” I must consider what devious, manipulative, male-centered ploy is behind the “can I drop off Bentley at 7:00, or would 8:00 be better for you?” This “three times maneuver” immediately brings up images of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz listening intently to the “Witch-of-Whichever-Direction-Wearing-White-Taffeta-and-Floating-in-on-a-Glowing Orb” telling Dorothy to “Just click your heels three times and just like that you will be home. And ToTo too!” In my case after the three clicks, I only feel guilt. Beware.

*…Continued.

So I decided to take the promised week off after a long period of traveling, dealing with all the emotions and events building up to and following July 20^th, the day the new owners took possession of our home. The day we went our separate ways. Trying to give some order to my time off, here’s the way the list stands:

• Relax
• Visit the Frist Art Museum
• Relax
• Watercolor
• Write
• Take long walks with Bentley
• Pray
• Relax
• Go to the doctor for some periodontal work (fun)
• Work on a budget (fun)
• Relax
• Lay by the pool
• See some movies
• Play golf
• Pray
• Relax
• Speak to God
• Read “light” stuff (Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis)
• Listen to God
• Think about the future
• Don’t think about the future
• Don’t think about business
• Don’t think
• Listen
• Hear
• Relax
• Shorten this list

Vacation Day One:

It becomes rapidly evident that the list of all the things I want to make “right” about my life this vacation is insurmountable…alone. Try as I might to do all the right stuff, make the right moves, say the right things, pray the right prayers, hang out with the right people, seek wisdom and guidance from the right mentors I am fairly inept. Try as I might to get it “right” I fall short. It’s sort of like waiting for that proverbial ship to come in, but you’re at the bus terminal sitting and watching the homeless man on the opposite side of the room, hunched over like the crinkled Styrofoam cup he holds in his leathered hands. He drifts away, intoxicated by the sandy coffee vapors washing up on the warm beach of his memories.

You know “guy thing” tendency of trying to get it right on your own terms, not trusting and listening to God, is so biblically sound. I mean come on, how many times did Jesus have to explain the same things, over-and-over, to the disciples…and STILL they didn’t get it? Can’t you just hear him after the twelfth time saying, “OK…I’m going to tell you mahtzoh-brains one more time…” We read the Old Testament. New Testament. We listen to Oprah. Matt Lauer. Ralph Nader. Larry King. Wolf Blitzer (I want his name) We’re a cast of characters playing real-life versions of Dumb and Dumber. Same plot, same scenes, different mahtzoh-brains.

So, here I was walking this morning to get an iced coffee and a dog biscuit, the biscuit being for Bentley at our favorite coffee shop, and to sit and read C. S. Lewis. By the way, these items are on my vacation list! I was listening to the third part of a 4-part teaching series on my iPod. The message was very clear; the narrator is remembering all the times when her mentor would tell of situations, moments when she did not know how she would be able to eat, or deal with a potentially dangerous situation. One such instance happened when she had to share God’s unconditional love with a 15-year-old male inmate serving time for brutally assaulting a woman. She surrendered to moment to God’s prompting. “I just turned it over to the Lord, and He took care of everything. Can you beat that?” The narrator then transitions to a commentary about her own struggles, her attempts to get it right, not trusting God enough to do what He has promised, in covenant, to provide…if we would just simply believe. It was all very sensible. And then she mentioned that her mentor always reminded her that the only way to really listen to what God wants us to hear in any situation, or how to deal with this or that problem, or how to respond to whatever challenge we are facing…is simply to spend time alone with Him. “You’ve got to learn to inquire of the Lord. If you have a question, you just need to sit and listen. You must spend time alone with God. How else will you know?”

I stopped on the sidewalk. My body surrendered. I was undone.

And I knew I would spend this time alone. And not.

Question for dialogue (or dialog if you prefer): Do you recall a time when you took a "vacation" with God, aka sanctuary, sitting still, quiet time, reflection, disconnection to connection? Would you be willing to share one characteristic or takeaway other "messys" might value?