Complacency: A Dangerous Side-Spiral

Tomorrow I will, God willing, fly to New Orleans to attend a wedding on Saturday. On Sunday, I will address a congregation seated in a sanctuary for the first time in more than three years. There's a lot to think about, a lot to do in preparation; but I haven't packed yet.

I mentioned my embarrassing time-management behavior in my last post. This afternoon, the theme rose again to the surface of my thoughts. Why do I struggle so with using my time wisely? Maybe the answer has come to me. I am almost ashamed to write about this answer. Still, it should be written. In my writing and in your reading, I (and you) will be forced to confront this idea head-on.

While I was receiving chemotherapy treatments, I was forced to accept my own inevitable death. When my husband died suddenly before my eyes, I was forced to accept the sure deaths of those who are my most beloved. For months, the road ahead of me seemed to be headed straight for a dead end (pun intended). There were no spirals, not even the tiniest hint of a curve in that road. I could see the signs reading "Road ends here. Be READY to stop." The road was arrow straight, narrow and seemed to be downhill. I couldn't see anything except that brilliant sign at the end.

Gradually, I became accustomed to the speed of my travels and the straightness of my road. I began to notice things: people, places, events all around me. As my awareness of my surroundings increased, my focus on THE END grew less - well - focused. Now, the chemotherapy treatments are rarely in my thoughts. I don't think about my husband's funeral every hour, or every day. I have awakened anew to the beauties of LIFE. I find my head less filled with the certainty of death and more with the details of living. Consequently, I ignore the sign; or worse, I couldn't see it if I tried, for my path no longer seems so straight. There are wonderful byways to appreciate. There are loops and switch-backs. Shrubbery, trees, blossoms catch my attention. I am diverted.

In Spanish, the word for "fun" is "divertido." We use "diversion" to indicate participation in activities outside our ho-hum, mundane daily lives. Yet, being diverted can be dangerous.

My "diversion" has caused me to forget the brevity of life. Subconsciously, I have again fallen into the common pattern of believing I have "all the time in the world." I don't feel any urgency to accomplish any particular task. After all, there's plenty of time. How quickly I have allowed myself again to join the procrastination club. After having been compelled to put these thoughts into writing, I think I must drop my membership.

Bible verses about man's limited lifespan roll around in my head. Years ago, as a young Pentecostal, an I'm-looking-for-Jesus-to-come, Rapture-ready Pentecostal, I learned "No man has the promise of tomorrow." We lived on the brink of being taken away, of hearing the sound of the trumpet of God, and the shout of an archangel. There was no time to waste. What happened to my sense of urgency? Weeks, months, years . . . decades were torn off our calendars. The steady rhythm of morning and evening, sunrise and sunset rocked me into complacency. Cancer and death stung me. I awoke. I'm feeling drugged again. And I don't like it.

I need to be busy. I need to remember the sign flashing on the horizon. "The End Is Near." Yes, I need to be busy. And the first thing I need to do is get that suitcase packed.