I woke up to Fall this morning in the—aftermath-of Sally-Panhandle of Florida. It feels nice, very nice. The past several days have been without power, which has prompted many thoughts running across my mind.
My family was registered pioneer settlers to Florida. Somewhere in that early genealogy is a Seminole Indian wife. This is important because back in the day Indians were not counted or included in census records. Anyway, I have a very strong connection to the state of Florida.
One of the first thoughts to run through my mind was that of those recent ancestors, traveling by wagon, horse and buggy, and on foot. They did not have the convenience of my Coleman stove or GPS, but they lived a simple, difficult life. The only thing that mattered was “that” day. Even for a planner like me; did I travel as far as I wanted? Do I need to scout ahead to see the route is safe and passable?
Time was only as important as the number of daylight hours remaining before making camp. It was a simple life, as difficult as the journey may have been. There was time to talk to your traveling companions, as well as God. There was time to stop and enjoy a particular lake, or river, or meadow. Perhaps an area was good for hunting to gather food for the journey.
The worries centered on right now, and today.
Another thought that ran through my mind was the isolation of not knowing what is going on. I would not have known to prepare for the approaching storm had I not seen the weather forecasts, or pulled up the latest radar images, and future track of the storm. I am completely cut-off from the rest of the world. How are my friends, my family, my coworkers? Is there much damage? Is everyone without power, or is it only our immediate area?
I did find that I had more time to talk with my family, and with God. We dusted off board games, and puzzles to play—by candlelight. I spent more of my time reading my Bible and talking with God.
But, I was isolated, cutoff, unaware that a Supreme Court Justice had passed. I knew nothing of events going on around me locally, nationally, or internationally. I did not like not “knowing” what was happening. Is that a bad thing, or a good thing?
I do not think it is a bad thing as long as my priorities are in place. First, I always talk with God and read my Bible. In this instance, I did so longer than usual. Secondly, our world is a technologically advanced world, with information overload at our fingertips. As long as I “control” my usage of technology—by realizing it has its place and stays there—I see nothing wrong with having such conveniences at my disposal.
Jesus lived a close personal relationship with God. (I use the term godhead, because of the triune nature of God). Daily he arose early finding a quiet place to spend with the Father. Throughout the day he—in the public eye—lifted up his voice speaking to the Father. He spoke of the Father with his disciples, with those around him, in public and private.
Jesus did not live an isolated life. He dealt with religious leaders, political leaders, private citizens, and social outcasts. His life was not a “weird” religious life of separation and solitude.
In like manner, the life of a Christ-follower will reflect that of our servant King. This journey to a close personal relationship with the godhead is not a religious journey whereby there are eleven steps to take to spiritual purity. A close personal relationship is a relationship whereby you—with the help of God the Holy Spirit—find a way to draw close to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.