Webs

It was a bright August morning, and the minister looked forward to worship. It had been months since his congregation was able to worship together, but they were meeting outside this morning and he was looking forward to seeing familiar faces in person and not on his computer screen. They’d done their best to stay connected through the pandemic, but there’s nothing like being together, he said to himself.

He made his Sunday morning pilgrimage across the church grounds to ring the bell. Even the birds were singing songs of praise. His heart was full because his daughter had just given birth to his second grandchild the day before, a girl named after his grandmother. He wished his mother had hung on a little longer so she could have met the newest member of the family. Instead, he was meeting his siblings to spread her ashes in a few weeks. 

A ray of light shone through the branches as he rang the bell. It struck a large, intricate spiderweb beside the cemetery entrance. Glistening with dew, its extensive symmetry was impossible to ignore. Each strand connected to another, round and round, a comprehensive whole.

On his way back to the church he realized he’d already seen this morning’s sermon.

Serving the Plot

In writing classes, they’re quick to remind you that all things should serve the plot. Whether it’s a detail, conversation, or character, everything should point to the plot of the novel. It seems obvious, but writers often get distracted and wander off in directions that confuse or distract his or her readers. Great writers make sure all things serve the plot.

It’s advice that applies equally to our lives, but, like some writers, we forget and wander off in many directions. Plot-driven lives are clear, focused, and meaningful. Those living such a life say and do certain things that serve the plot, just as they refrain from conversations and actions that don’t.

Unfortunately, most of us either do not know the plot or get distracted. We end up living scattered lives and wander off distracted by what the crowd wants, our jobs require, or family expectations. Such a life is as confusing as it is frustrating.

Looking at all Jesus taught, he was determined to remind us of our life’s plot and offer examples of living plot-driven lives. Like dropping a centerboard helps a sailboat move forward, a plot-driven life heads in a specific direction. What we say and what we do serves the plot. 

I must confess I’ve not always known the plot. Even when I did, I wandered in different directions because of my distracted, scattered heart. Wanting to please others, wanting to make a name for myself and leave a legacy caused me to wander. While none of those motivations are bad, they’re all external and driven by a very needy ego. Until I stood back and asked what would serve God best, did I begin to understand the direction I was to take, the plot I wanted to serve. 

Questions: 

1.     Does your life have a clear plot or purpose?

2.     Does everything you do and say serve the plot?

3.     In what ways do you wander away, and what distracts you?

Happy Places

This week, I received a number of Instagram posts showing pictures of beautiful places with the caption, “My happy place.” There were pictures of beaches, camps, mountain sunsets, and even a pilot looking out above clouds. It was a fascinating collage, each of which filled a friend’s soul, but it made me wonder if everyone has such a place?

There are many places in which I’ve been happy. The most effective places involve nature in some way. Sitting beside a waterfall, walking beside a dramatic sea, watching a colorful sunrise or sunset are among my favorites. I once went to such a place and was filled with a happiness the likes of which I’d never felt. It made a lasting impression, and I tried to go back to the exact location so I could feel the same elation, but much to my surprise and disappointment, I sat on the very same rock, looking out at the very same view, and felt nothing. It was still beautiful. It just didn’t stir my soul as it once had. 

I remember a New York Times wine critic being asked what the best bottle of wine he’d ever had was. Given his access to priceless vintages, his answer surprised everyone. It was a bottle that anyone could find in a grocery store. He’d opened such a bottle while rowing on a lake on a misty evening with the woman who would eventually be his wife. Years later, they returned to the same lake and opened the same wine on one of their anniversaries, but it wasn’t the same. It had nothing to do with the wine, they learned.

So it is with happy places. The happiness comes from somewhere beyond mountains, sea, or wine. Certain places can open our hearts in wonderful ways, but the happiness lies elsewhere. It cannot be manufactured, manipulated, or bottled. Happiness is a gift, a gift wrapped in many packages. When given, we should receive it with grateful hearts, and not clenched fists. We should give thanks not to the gift, but the one who gave it, our true happiness.

 Extra Credit:

1.  Where is your happy place?

2. When you are there what is it that fills your soul so?

3. Is it the place, or where your heart goes when it’s there?