://climax

I'm currently exhausted. Today, I've lost an hour of sleep, traveled from one state to the next, and have subsisted on little more than Sonic, gelatinized candy, and sketchy camp food.

Being the type of person I am, I can hardly ever come out of weekends like this with less than copious introspection. I suppose I should rewind; when I say, "like this", I say that having spent this weekend at a winter retreat for a youth group in Wisconsin playing for the worship team with Dunker, Andrew, Caleb, Kelli, Dana, and Darien. It was adventurous, but only insofar as it's not every weekend that you get to drive 6 hours out-of-state to bless another ministry with your gifts.

Otherwise, I suppose, the weekend was kind of anti-climactic.

That statement should come with some qualification. I by no means mean to say that the weekend was boring, or banal, or mundane, or that the weekend wasn't worth my trouble. Quite the contrary; I have the fullest confidence that what the team and I have done this weekend will have a lasting impact on the lives of the students and Pastor Jeff's ministry.

So when I call the weekend "anti-climactic", I mean it in a twofold fashion: for me spiritually, and for me exclusively. I spent the entire weekend listening intently for God's voice, listening for the encouragement or challenge or pivotal moment that seem to be so prevalent in winter retreats. To my consternation, such never came.

It was during my obligatory introspection that I realize that perhaps I have some wrong impressions about spiritual growth. I guess I oftentimes hope that my spiritual walk will consist of an emotionally charged sojourn intermittently interrupted--but never stifled--by climactic embraces by which we mark off our lives. Not only is that not how walking with Christ works, I have to imagine that if it were, it would be exhausting. For myself, constantly trying to maintain some sort of contrived spiritual level would mean a lot of frivolous, taxing, and artificial striving, and I think that anyone who sees what I'm saying would agree.

I have been walking with Christ for the last two and a half years, and if there's one thing that I've learned during that time, it's that the calling of God is not one of great leaps and bounds, but of quiet steps, one after the other. We may find, from time to time, that the consistency and obeisance with which we have followed these steps brings us to soaring heights, menacing depths, and the dullest doldrums--all in their turn--but these are not the things by which we measure our spiritual growth. None of us wants to feel led along by forces that seem so out of our control--namely, design--but by taking such assiduous and decided steps, where we are, we will be by the Providence of God, and we find in those places incredible depth of meaning and purpose.

So now here I sit, not discouraged in the slightest by the sense of banality with which I view my weekend, but contented with the faintest sense of a job well done. I will close my weekend out with a time of prayer, and in all likelihood, it will be one, not of incredible portent, but of quietly sitting before God, and basking in His peaceful presence.

Peace and grace,

Stephen