Finding the Real Now

Posted April 3, 2018

By Larry and Carol Smith

Note from Larry: Usually these blogs are positive, upbeat collaborations between me and Carol. This one is deeply personal and about me. I felt compelled to write it several months ago but haven’t had the courage to make it public because it displays how weak I really am. A long time ago Henry David Thoreau said “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” This is certainly true of me. And I believe it to be true of others too. But we try to hide it and pretend that everything is always okay. I am learning that if I keep something hidden it is more difficult for God to help me and heal me. As God and I move closer to each other, everything that is hidden will be brought out into the light. I hope you won’t mind then if i share this with you.

Finding the Real Now

The world around Carol and I was captivating, a frozen and icy version of Heaven. It was late afternoon, and in these woods it was almost completely quiet. The only sounds we could hear were the sounds we ourselves were making as we slowly made our way down the peaceful, winding trail. Together, the winter landscape and pristine silence became a beautiful and spiritual cathedral, and the sounds that we were making as we walked seemed exaggerated and out of place.

Carol walked just ahead of me, seemingly mesmerized by the fallen leaves, the craggy rocks and the glistening chunks of ice that were hanging on the rocks and trees. She inspected each beautiful object as if it contained a hidden truth that required looking at very closely to see and then moved on to the next one, giving equal concentration to qualities that evidently I could not see myself.

As for me, I felt strangely isolated and somewhat more like an intruder into a place of beauty and wonderment where I didn’t belong and possibly even posed a threat to. Like a stranger from a foreign land, I did not know the language. My appearance in that world was outlandish, and the contrast between the silent serenity of the icy woods and noisy turbulence that manifested as me was stark.

Carol and I had been through so much together in the past year. With God’s help, and me doing my best to support her, she had bravely battled and conquered breast cancer. There was no doubt that the fight took something out of her, but against the odds she bounced back better than ever before.

I watched as she continued to survey the landscape and take photos. Carol seemed to live in the moment. She took things as they came along. And when something didn’t add up, she gave it to God. Why couldn’t I be that way?

Truthfully, I always thought I was a person who, for the most part, lived in the moment.  Back in the old days, before I became a Christian, I was very much into eastern meditation and other disciplines that promised to help me focus my mind on the present. And now, as a Christian, I professed to put my trust in God

But today, as I walked in the beautiful silence of the frozen nature, I realized that I was far from being in the present moment. I saw that I lived more in a world of thought than in a world of immediate perception. Rather than experiencing what was really going on at the moment, I experienced and reacted to a flow of thoughts and emotions that interrupted my ability to fully experience the current moment.

I was not able to see the world without interpreting it through the filter of my own inner dialog. And my thoughts triggered deep emotions and embedded beliefs that shaped my view of reality and made it cloudy and inaccurate.

As I surveyed the frozen landscape, these uncontrollable thoughts continued to move at the speed of light. I was caught up in my own agenda, with my own concerns, and most of my thought life was peppered with feelings of uncertainty and despair. On this day I realized how very far away I really was from trusting God and surrendering my life completely to Him.

I had always thought of myself as a “successful” Christian, but perhaps the weeds and thorns of life’s struggles had grown up all around me (Mark 4). Perhaps my vision was obscured as I tried to think everything out on my own. And in struggling to control everything, I had lost the ability to see life and the world with the new pair of eyes that God gave me when I was born again.

It was so very hard to let go of supposed control over life’s circumstances. You didn’t even have to be a Christian to know that. Just when you think you had it made, something changed. Everything was always in a constant state of change.

A sound from up ahead brought me out of my reverie. I looked up but didn’t see anything. “Probably a rabbit or some other small animal scurrying through the underbrush,” I thought.

Looking even further ahead, I saw that Carol was at a junction in the trail. I hurried to join her and pointed to the right. A short walk up the hill and we would be at the site of one of our favorite waterfalls.

We were used to hearing the sound of the falls as we approached, but today there was absolute silence as we made our way into the little canyon where the falls had their home.

The falls themselves hung over the bluffs like glistening, icy needles. They reached down like fingers over a limestone shelter that had probably been carved into the rocks thousands of years ago by the constantly flowing water.

The shelter was large enough to stand up in, so Carol and I carefully entered. The little room was dark and cozy. Carol grabbed my hand and together we watched as splinters of sunlight shined their way through the frozen water down to the limestone floor projecting a multi-colored pattern. Through the frozen falls we only had a partial, distorted, glimpse of the forest outside. But the sun’s rays remained clear and bright and pierced through the distortion.

In comparison, I thought about the defensive shelter I had built around my own life. I couldn’t really see what life was like because I was looking at everything through a distorted view, a filter of attitudes, emotions and opinions. What I saw was not accurate or complete. And perhaps I had begun to believe in my own imperfect thoughts about things?

The true reality was still there, just on the other side of the icy wall of defense I had built. And like the rays of sunlight that penetrated the ice and illuminated the dark shelter, little streams of reality seeped through the cracks in my wall of deception to remind me what was truly real. I was seeing “through a glass darkly” and mistakenly thinking that what I could see is all that there is. I blindly chose not to acknowledge the majesty and beauty of of God’s creation that exists eternally in the moment.

Through God’s grace and the gift of salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ, I no longer had to be chained to my own world view. My own thoughts about life and self no longer defined me. Still being chained to my own thoughts was my choice.

God had given me a better way, and if I would allow myself to accept the love of He who is absolute and eternal Truth, I could become free of worldly and self-imposed bonds.

I thought about the Message Bible’s interpretation of Jesus’ words in Matthew 11:28-30:

“Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

With Carol by my side, I prayed silently: “Help me God as I struggle to give my entire self to you, all the situations, all my thoughts and attitudes and opinions and emotions.”

The burden that was on me when Carol and I first entered the forest lifted, and I must have let out a sigh. “What’s on your mind?” Carol said softly, putting her arm around me.

“A lot and nothing at all,” I said, smiling as together we saw God in everything that existed.

For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light (Luke 8:17 ESV).

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known (1st Corinthians 13:12 KJV).

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse (Romans 1:20 NIV).

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.(Matthew 11:28-30 NIV).

© 2018 by Larry and Carol Smith