reduce or revere

by Matt MooneyOctober 3, 2013

I have been stewing lately on an idea- one that was driven as deep as my soul goes.  A particular one of the many from days gone by when I held my first born with one arm- his lack of weight unable to even awaken my bicep.  He was so small and yet in him came such monolithic lessons from afar.

Ideas came in coveys with Eliot and even in the throes of grief, but now I seem to struggle to keep up with the every day affair and busy myself fighting off the guilt bastard that likes to take up residence on my back…the one telling me I am not living alive within these glimpses that I was given- ones that were so clear to me at a point in time and yet now I strain to bring into focus in the life I awaken to each morning.

It is the notion of slowing down.
Of seeing.
Of beholding.
Of believing that my priorities within a day will fall away and that my task list should always take a backseat to discovering the divine that each moment holds.  I need not be convinced that glimpses of divinity and beauty abound all around me- taken by granted or not seen at all by most- but present nonetheless.  But knowing they are there and finding where they are are two different notions altogether.

It was as though at one time, I had goggles handed me that allowed me to see things as they were.  I valued the person more than the topic.  I loved deep and saw and heard a musical accompaniment to all of it as though someone had flipped a switch in my head.  But it seems as of late, I am left searching for goggles instead of the holy; flipping switches in hopes that one will turn on the music again.

I hear faint whispers from saints and sinners all the time of this which I speak and I know that which they speak of, but I seem to partake as grandfather waxing eloquently about grade school- though I remember it fondly, I will not don a backpack and head that way today.

But oh how I want to.

I believe for me that the first step is to slow it all down.  To sit in silence.  As my first teacher was my son and my tears in his absence, I want somehow to live within the clarity brought by suffering without being under the weight of suffering.

And maybe it cannot be done.  Maybe that is one of the many paradoxical gifts of pain.  Maybe you don’t get to live within the glory without being also under the weight that threatens to take you down.  But I think not; or at least I hope not.  I want to live life to the full in the midst of all that my life is today.  And have sickened of anything less.

I have concocted a test whereby I can tell if I am leaning into my own priorities or truly seeing the amazing weight and holiness of each moment:

Am I reducing others or am I revering others?

See, left to myself, I become my agenda.  Others become my commodities to reach my goals.  I listen less and talk more.  I am moving quickly as though I know where it all goes.  I am pretending.

But, on my best days, I see distractions as opportunities.
I see traffic as a chance to worship.
I see spills as an offer to give a grace I have only known through receiving.

I am unwilling to allow my life to return to a trajectory that it naturally takes.  I can’t go back.  Who returns to the trough when they have been seated at feasts?  A fool; that’s who.

Some resources on this journey have been these:

reflectiveTellingSecrets

 

 

 

 

 

If this resonates with you then I would love to hear why or how or how you yourself have been able to push against the trajectory and toward greater things.

4,528 Comments

  1. Ann Holmes on October 3, 2013 at 7:20 pm

    Matt, thanks so much! My heart needed to read and contemplate this at this very time! It is a tension, a struggle but I too want to live in His glory even in the pain! Thanks again! I truly think you’re onto something with your test – reduce or revere? Lots of food for thought and heart! :o)



  2. Martha on October 4, 2013 at 9:07 am

    Reduce or revere? A very clear and simple plumbline. And yet, I know it’s outcome in my day-to-day will reveal a lot of obsession with productivity. Your so very right, thinking back to the weight of grief when it is a dark cloud in your chest…those were the days I woke up everyday with repentance, humility, and tenacity for living a life “worthy of our calling.” Now those spills and red lights can quickly be seen as set-backs. Set-backs to what? That’s where the soul searching will come for me. living a life revering the sacredness of each other over the seemingly sacredness of my to-do list. Thank you for the reminder;)



  3. Amy Watson Smith on October 4, 2013 at 10:47 am

    I had not expected this in my inbox this morning–hadn’t planned on reading it because I was too busy. It almost landed in my archive file unread. But now I sit at my desk trying to breath and to find words and to clear the puddles from my eyes. There is a deep ache inside and I moan. Is that my heart waking up? When had I deadened it, locked it away? The pain had been almost unbearable but the intensity and clarity and holiness saved me. When did I move from that to this? Minutes, hours, days, weeks slip by. Have I even noticed? I don’t want that pain or grieving or darkness either but I want the holiness. Thank you, Matt, for reminding me to sit in the silence–to reach out for Him and to put aside my agenda.



  4. Anonymous on October 9, 2013 at 9:18 am

    Such a convicting post that i sincrely needed to read today. Thank you for the thought provoking nature of your words and for the challenge it brings me. Truly, thank you.



I have been stewing lately on an idea- one that was driven as deep as my soul goes.  A particular one of the many from days gone by when I held my first born with one arm- his lack of weight unable to even awaken my bicep.  He was so small and yet in him came such monolithic lessons from afar.

Ideas came in coveys with Eliot and even in the throes of grief, but now I seem to struggle to keep up with the every day affair and busy myself fighting off the guilt bastard that likes to take up residence on my back…the one telling me I am not living alive within these glimpses that I was given- ones that were so clear to me at a point in time and yet now I strain to bring into focus in the life I awaken to each morning.

It is the notion of slowing down.
Of seeing.
Of beholding.
Of believing that my priorities within a day will fall away and that my task list should always take a backseat to discovering the divine that each moment holds.  I need not be convinced that glimpses of divinity and beauty abound all around me- taken by granted or not seen at all by most- but present nonetheless.  But knowing they are there and finding where they are are two different notions altogether.

It was as though at one time, I had goggles handed me that allowed me to see things as they were.  I valued the person more than the topic.  I loved deep and saw and heard a musical accompaniment to all of it as though someone had flipped a switch in my head.  But it seems as of late, I am left searching for goggles instead of the holy; flipping switches in hopes that one will turn on the music again.

I hear faint whispers from saints and sinners all the time of this which I speak and I know that which they speak of, but I seem to partake as grandfather waxing eloquently about grade school- though I remember it fondly, I will not don a backpack and head that way today.

But oh how I want to.

I believe for me that the first step is to slow it all down.  To sit in silence.  As my first teacher was my son and my tears in his absence, I want somehow to live within the clarity brought by suffering without being under the weight of suffering.

And maybe it cannot be done.  Maybe that is one of the many paradoxical gifts of pain.  Maybe you don’t get to live within the glory without being also under the weight that threatens to take you down.  But I think not; or at least I hope not.  I want to live life to the full in the midst of all that my life is today.  And have sickened of anything less.

I have concocted a test whereby I can tell if I am leaning into my own priorities or truly seeing the amazing weight and holiness of each moment:

Am I reducing others or am I revering others?

See, left to myself, I become my agenda.  Others become my commodities to reach my goals.  I listen less and talk more.  I am moving quickly as though I know where it all goes.  I am pretending.

But, on my best days, I see distractions as opportunities.
I see traffic as a chance to worship.
I see spills as an offer to give a grace I have only known through receiving.

I am unwilling to allow my life to return to a trajectory that it naturally takes.  I can’t go back.  Who returns to the trough when they have been seated at feasts?  A fool; that’s who.

Some resources on this journey have been these:

reflectiveTellingSecrets

 

 

 

 

 

If this resonates with you then I would love to hear why or how or how you yourself have been able to push against the trajectory and toward greater things.

4,528 Comments

  1. Ann Holmes on October 3, 2013 at 7:20 pm

    Matt, thanks so much! My heart needed to read and contemplate this at this very time! It is a tension, a struggle but I too want to live in His glory even in the pain! Thanks again! I truly think you’re onto something with your test – reduce or revere? Lots of food for thought and heart! :o)



  2. Martha on October 4, 2013 at 9:07 am

    Reduce or revere? A very clear and simple plumbline. And yet, I know it’s outcome in my day-to-day will reveal a lot of obsession with productivity. Your so very right, thinking back to the weight of grief when it is a dark cloud in your chest…those were the days I woke up everyday with repentance, humility, and tenacity for living a life “worthy of our calling.” Now those spills and red lights can quickly be seen as set-backs. Set-backs to what? That’s where the soul searching will come for me. living a life revering the sacredness of each other over the seemingly sacredness of my to-do list. Thank you for the reminder;)



  3. Amy Watson Smith on October 4, 2013 at 10:47 am

    I had not expected this in my inbox this morning–hadn’t planned on reading it because I was too busy. It almost landed in my archive file unread. But now I sit at my desk trying to breath and to find words and to clear the puddles from my eyes. There is a deep ache inside and I moan. Is that my heart waking up? When had I deadened it, locked it away? The pain had been almost unbearable but the intensity and clarity and holiness saved me. When did I move from that to this? Minutes, hours, days, weeks slip by. Have I even noticed? I don’t want that pain or grieving or darkness either but I want the holiness. Thank you, Matt, for reminding me to sit in the silence–to reach out for Him and to put aside my agenda.



  4. Anonymous on October 9, 2013 at 9:18 am

    Such a convicting post that i sincrely needed to read today. Thank you for the thought provoking nature of your words and for the challenge it brings me. Truly, thank you.