For most of us, at the end of our lives, our lives are going to come down to the square footage of a hospital bed. –Rabbi Steve Leder
Rabbi Leder said this in an interview on the podcast Everything Happens. Something we don’t want to hear. Yet, if we allow ourselves to ponder it, this truth is lifegiving.
I’m not really there, but in natural fashion, I’m thinking ahead a little too much. The “there” I’m referring to is downsizing. I already live in less than 800 square feet. How much more downsizing can I do?
The downsizing I’m thinking about is more along the lines of stuff, not necessarily space. There’s only so much that can join me in a hospital bed. And that makes me wonder, “How can I best gradually work my way there?”
I’m guessing it’s more about what’s in my mind and heart when my body says, “This is all I need.” Between now and then, here’s to filling my mind and heart with things that don’t require earthly square footage-answers to the prayer, “On earth as it is in heaven.”
P.S. Here’s a question: Exactly how much square footage will we get in heaven?
One episode prompted me to think about some things I’ve given up. When we think about giving up, some things we give up are good loses; other things we choose to give up may cause people to question why. The latter is where my mind went. Not that I’m paralyzed by what people think, but I revisited two things I gave up that have often caused people to cock their head with a look of, “I’m not sure that makes sense.”
In 2014, I gave up tennis. Almost to the day ten years ago, I had my second neck surgery giving me three infusions most likely due to a car accident that happened around twenty years ago. What does that have to do with tennis? Both instances when the nerve pain surfaced was either the next day after playing tennis or during a season where I was playing quite a bit of tennis. It can’t be confirmed, but it makes sense to me that the motion of serving and other movements during a tennis match didn’t go well with the disc issues that surfaced. Thus, I gave up tennis. Exercise does include some pain, but being healthy doesn’t have to include self-harm.
In 2001, I gave up being a worship leader as an occupation. It became clear to me after 12 years of music being the basis of my work life that it wasn’t fulfilling. There was something else that was better. I didn’t have the answer, but step one was to give up doing something just because I can. A bigger purpose rose by choosing better over good.
In this vein, my pastor spoke this morning about giving up things in order to live in freedom rather than anxiety. When we are honest with ourselves, we often are quite aware of what’s binding us that we aren’t willing to give up. If you find yourself in this position, let me encourage you with this blessing from Kate Bowler. Each episode I’ve listened to, a blessing is how it ends. In the episode that prompted this post, she ended it with the following words. May they speak life into your soul that it’s okay to give up.
Blessed are you who have reached a new age, even if it doesn’t seem to fit. It may feel too big, too reductive, too limiting. It may be marked by a life you barely recognize. The kids who have all moved out or settled somewhere far away, or they’ve never left. And you’re wondering if you’ll ever get that home office. The work that no longer sets the daily hum. The life partner who is gone. And friends you’ve outlived. The body, which doesn’t allow for the hobbies you loved anymore. The monthly check that doesn’t provide the flexibility you’d hoped for. Wasn’t I young just a second ago? Will I ever recognize the person staring back in the mirror? What’s left to do that really counts? How do I know if I am or ever was enough? God gave us eyes to notice the ways life can still be beautiful and rich and full in the midst of so much that has been lost. Remind us that you are not done with us yet. For the God who spoke us into being calls us even now. Not to an ideal or a role, but to a moment. This one. In a world that equates age with liability, it’s time for a reminder that you are a gift. You give advice. You hold on to family recipes. You remember that thing that happened and honestly, we shouldn’t have forgotten. You think our kids are beautiful, and our bad partners should be soundly dumped. You kept the photo album. You hold our stories. Thank you. Even when the world isn’t paying attention. May you get a glimmer of a reminder that these little things add up to something that is and always will be beautiful.
We don’t control things; we regulate things. Human beings actually don’t control anything. We have agency, and we can regulate things; but we don’t absolutely, like dictators, control anything. I can’t control my heartrate absolutely. I ultimately can’t even control my breathing rate. I can regulate it-I can move it up and move it down-but there are going to be certain perimeters within which, you know, I can only hold my breath for so long and then I got to start breathing again.
Curt Thompson, MD
First I came across this graphic posted on social media. Within hours, I heard Dr. Thompson’s quote on his podcast, Being Known.
Our extremely accessible world tempts us to focus on the wrong things, to believe we can-or must-control more than is possible. When accepted, these temptations lead to overwhelming emotions that take us down roads we weren’t designed to travel.
This graphic states a helpful principle: focus on the things that matter that you can control. Everything else requires faith. Faith that all things matter to God. Faith that he controls all things. When I misplace that faith, I’ve given into another temptation-playing God.
These temptations need regulating. Working on regulating is less overwhelming than working on controlling. That I can work on. That makes me think of some of the Beatitudes-Jesus’ teaching on what blessing looks like.
3 “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
4 “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
5 “You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.
6 “You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.
7 “You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.
8 “You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
9 “You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.
John Gregory 