So it’s been a while since I’ve posted here. A lot has happened (as if anyone doubted that). There have been many ideas and yet very little action.

I still think about Pilgrim’s Progress once in a while and all the lame posts I wrote about it. There’s apparently a professor at the university where I work who’s doing a lot of work on it and I wonder if he ever found this blog. Not sure whether I’m more excited or embarrassed by that possibility.

Lately, though, I’ve been considering the Valley where Christian fought Apollyon, but more so from the perspective of Great Heart and Christiana. I’m not going to go look it up (pushing back on my need for certainty) but I recall a conversation to the effect of describing the valley as a beautiful place of rest and peace and that Christian’s fight there was not necessary had he approached the place differently.

I think much of my life has been Christian’s approach and not Christiana’s. I have created battles where peace would have been the better option. I have fought hard when rest was available to me.

Now I am tired and rest is somewhat more a necessity than a luxury. This is perhaps a bit of an overstatement. I am not burnt out and my load is easy at present; a real gift that I am delighting in. I know there is work ahead of me and so much of what I am feeling at present is anticipatory weariness, which likely is, at the very least, an indication that I am still in recovery from something.

But back to being Christian, I very much fit what a professor of mine termed as “a dedicated neurotic” in that I have aggressively pursued growth in my Christian life, probably to a much greater degree than God has required of me. This is not to say that such is necessarily bad, but forced growth is an unpleasant experience in any context, including what’s done to oneself.

I have been so driven to progress as a Christian that I have missed out on a great deal of rest and peace. God has been gracious in this and I have found victory in certain areas; I have also missed out on much that was and is good and beautiful.

There is definitely a measure of sadness as I ponder that last statement. And yet I still want to acknowledge God’s grace in all of my life and that not all beauty has been missed. Even as there is a measure of sorrow for what could have been, there is also much joy in what I have. Where exactly God’s providence and my agency met I cannot say.

At the very least, I am here now and I am learning what it means to not have to progress and instead God seems to have created a space in time for me to park and not progress.

I notice a measure of agitation in me even in writing the above. There is still a movement in me towards growth, but I must learn to rest in faith that God is still at work within me to grow me without needing my added effort.

Ultimately, I see in this my failure to Sabbath well (to use more theological language). I recently bought Abraham Heschel’s book on Sabbath after literally months of borrowing it from the library. It’s a small book and in the year or more that it has been in my power to read it, I have barely made it into the first chapter. This includes many times of restarting the book or rereading a paragraph or more because I realized I hadn’t been paying attention.

Admittedly, Heschel is not an easy read, but not having the attention span to focus on a book about rest seems indicative of something deeper at work. I expect getting the book in the first place was my own attempt to Sabbath better, which is a movement back towards progress. I suppose it’s counterintuitive (though not unheard of) to go to a scenic overlook to read a book.

So I am learning to park and not progress. As I consider it at this moment, it seems to me that this is a skill best learned by being in it (nearly wrote “by doing it”) rather than by reading about it. It hasn’t been easy, but I am learning to like it here. God has continued to be gracious in that I still see much evidence of His hand at work in me and signs that growth continues to happen even as I decide against particular efforts on my part to bring about the same.

I think I’m starting to like it here.