Both the young and the old are tempted to live in the future. As a college writing instructor, I have spent much of my life helping young people prepare for the future. Especially in recent years, college freshmen entered my classes with a lot of anxiety. Even those with a strong faith in God had a hard time focusing on what God might be saying and doing in their lives in the now.
Christian young people sometimes had a call to some kind of ministry as pastors or worship leaders. Those from more charismatic backgrounds had prophetic words spoken about how God would someday use them. Too often, however, their concern for the future left them unengaged with God in the present. Honestly, I was much the same when I was religion major at a Christian college. I believed, someday, God would use me.
Much of my life, rightly or wrongly, I have prayed for a revival or visitation that would set the hearts of God’s people on fire with a holy passion for God and evangelism. Not only have I prayed for that day, I have tried to be ready to catch that wave. But in all this longing and interceding for a visitation from God, I have sometimes postponed joy and failed to celebrate God now. I sometimes lost the rhythm of mourning and celebrating, fasting and feasting.
I am seventy-one. Like Maple Street in Myrtle Point, my street here in Gardner takes me to a cemetery. When Teckla and stroll under its huge maples and oaks, I wonder if it is time to buy a plot. The cemetery is wedged between train tracks. Day and night, the dead are shaken and perhaps sadly mistaken when Gabriel’s trumpet turns out to be the horn of a passing train. Even at my age, it is easy to let the future eclipse the present.
I look at the past too. I miss friends left behind in Oregon. I miss my son, Peter, who he was and who he was meant to be. If I think of what should have, could have, might have been, I despair. There are so many “if only’s”. Past missteps and tragedies can create present paralysis. It is tempting to hunker down and prepare for the next heartbreak, the next loss. As minds and bodies age and fail, it is easy to cringe and whimper.
I miss the forests, beaches, and mountains of Oregon. Kansas is different, and it is easy to let the difference blind me to the beauty of the hardwood forests, windswept prairies, and clouds racing across blue skies. In missing Oregon I am not just missing the beauty, but also the memories made in these places: beaches, trails, rivers, and even specific trees that are woven into my life with those I love.
We can, however, connect to the future and past in ways that nourish our present experience with God. I have chosen to relate to the past with thanksgiving. I thank God for all the footprints Teckla and I have left in the sand of Oregon beaches. I thank him for the wildflowers at Euphoria Ridge. I thank God for the faithfulness of God’s people who have loved and helped us through our many losses. I am also nearer and more certain about the hope of glory: of being raised again in Christ and made like him. This hope explodes despair. Our gratitude for God’s past blessings and our hope for glory should free us from the tyranny of past regrets and future fears. We are free to ask God, “What now?”
Whether you are 17 or 71, (or dyslexic) God’s answer is always, “Me”. We are to walk in relationship with God. Be filled with His Spirit and led by His voice moment by moment. We can practice the presence of God and let God move through us now even as we prepare to be used by God in the future.
I have been breathing this prayer, “Lord, bless me and make me blessing today.” I pray this with the expectation God will answer me. I invite the Holy Spirit to tell me who to pray for and how to pray for them. Sometimes I declare blessings over those I love. Sometimes I am led to write a note, reach out to a friend, or do something for someone. Living in the moment means letting God be with us in the small things and small places of our daily life.
As a teacher and student, a present tense walk with God means inviting the Holy Spirit to read books with me and give me His thoughts. I invite him to help write things that are both honest and true. Often some emotion, image, or idea rings true, but is like a piece of a puzzle that only God can fit into the Truth, His Son.
Practicing God’s presence will be different for everyone. One of my sons, who is a carpenter, had a dream of Jesus showing him how to start a cut without the saw jumping around. Recently, while counseling someone, I found myself asking God to change their OS and download new drivers. God speaks our language. God is with us in our us in all things that make us who we are. The glorious paradox is that the more we are surrendered to Christ and become like Him, the more we are uniquely ourselves as created by God.
Maybe at every age, we must resist the tyranny of future fears and past regrets. People my age feel the approach of death in their joints and bones. But young people face many other challenges—finding a career, finding a spouse, navigating all the financial challenges that lie ahead. But whether young or old, we serve a risen Savior, who is Emanuel—God with us now.