Ordinariness

I recently remembered how exciting my England trip was last summer.  I would come into a town and have no clue where anything was or how to get anywhere.  It was a thrill to figure out how to orient myself, get a little lost, and then reorient myself the right way.  I was constantly on the move, finding buses or trains, making plans on the go, and living in a completely strange place.

My situation now is much different.  The past month I have been living in a very familiar place with nothing pressing to do.  No job, no school, no urgent obligations to fill. My days typically consist of reading, writing a little, hanging out, and sometimes watching tv.  Compared to my previous summer, my life now is very ordinary.

Not bad, not easy, not hard.  Just ordinary.

These feelings are compounded as I watch many Olympic athletes who are living truly extraordinary lives right now.  My life is not half as exciting as any of their lives.

While I think there is value in both slow and fast-paced living, I have found myself struggling with making this ordinariness very meaningful.  And given our fast paced world, I would bet that I am not the only one that struggles with moments of pause.

But my concern is not merely one of restlessness.

Shouldn’t a life lived with the Creator of the universe be filled with unceasing wonder? 

Shouldn’t a life lived with the Almighty protector and redeemer of Israel be exciting, challenging, and even a little fear inspiring? 

Shouldn’t a life lived with the Savior of the world be filled with self-sacrifice and constant helping of others? 

So, where is that cutting edge excitement that is an essential characteristic to the nature of the God who fills my heart?  Where are all the life changing experiences?  Where is the busy life of nonstop pursuit of God that I have experienced so often?

And what value is there in this ordinary life?

The first I have found is identity.  I can no longer define myself by what I do, because I do nothing.  I am not a student, tutor, youth minister or whatever else I might at some point in my life by able to identify myself as.  Instead I have been forced to find identity within myself, who I really am – a loved child of God.  That leads me to consider more organically what I should do.  I am not doing things for myself, to fulfill some missing piece of me, but rather I am working and doing stuff because the God who loves me opens up opportunities around me though which I can share His love.  This makes the focus less on me and more on God.  

And this God with whom I can identify is the Creator of the universe – how much more wonderful could life get?

Second, it has helped me cope with the debilitating restlessness of typical American life.  I feel much more comfortable now at home with nothing to do.  I don’t feel as driven to be constantly working or doing something.  There is an issue here between complacency and contentedness.  It is tempting to become complacent and too comfortable doing nothing.  Complacency implies not only a lack of growth, but also apathy that there is no growth.  It is challenging to not fall into this mode of being.  Being content, on the other hand, allows you to appreciate whatever is going on in your life at the moment, and to find ways to grow even in ordinary times.  I have learned to be content with what God has given me and what He is doing in my life. 

As my actions have become less exciting, the God I am coming to know and serve and the ways in which He is intervening in my life have become even more exciting.

My contentedness has deepened in knowing that my soul can be full and I can be growing ever closer to God even when life is not flashing before me.  I have learned that changing the world can look pretty ordinary.  I don’t have to be solving world issues in order to show love to others and to better know God’s presence around me.  I in no way intend to imply that I have been perfect in this, but I have come to realize that the small things we do (listening to someone over tea, being present to offer encouragement, laughing and eating with people), these ordinary things can be truly extraordinary ways of engaging in the world around us. 

I have found that self sacrifice can come in the simplest of expressions.

Our lives are not action packed; in fact, probably more ordinary than not.  And even Olympians live such fast paced lives only periodically throughout the years.  So, I have found it important to be ever wondering: How do we make all our time meaningful?  How do we live a good ordinary life?

Through an embrace of the ordinariness of my life I have begun to find the consistent, subtle wonder, excitement, fear, and self sacrifice that lies at the heart of following God daily.