Still waters run deep, but when deep waters become turbulent, it can take a while for them to settle down again.

I was an introvert when I was a kid. When I hit my teens, I came out of my shell a little, but I learned I could converse pretty easily with just abiut anyone.

I will turn 57 in a few weeks. Turbulence has been more the norm than the exception in my 20’s through my early 50’s. Believe it or not, the 2020 period of Covid restrictions, coupled with our youngest leaving the nest, provided an opportunity for my body and nervous system to decompress from the 30-year streak of conflicts and stress.

It provided an opportunity to take some measures of self-care that have been long neglected, sitting on the back burner. It has been so peaceful and calm, and in light of the state this country and world are in, that is an especially gracious blessing from the Lord.

I would not have that persoective had God not allowed the years of struggle that came before it.

It kind of feels like this is a period in which the Lord is reviewing the previous years, explaining some things for me, as they were in His perspective as opposed to mine.

I have always been a “worst case scenario” thinker. By that I mean, I generally consider the worst case scenario when trouble develops, not to dwell on that outlook, but it gave me a sense of preparedness, and thus a degree of control over, not circumstances, but how I would weather those circumstances, whatever they be.

I admit that during my 30’s I hadn’t learned that yet. Which explains some of my inner turbulence at least.

Life is learning, all the way through. I think I have always had a rather serious nature. But I used to balace it with an equally fun-loving and laughing, playful side.  I would love to find that balance again. It’s not that I forgot how, but I didn’t laugh and smile much for a very long time. Some of that, in fairness, has had to do with the fact I don’t turn a blind eye to the suffering of others. My feeling is, as long as there are babies being slaughtered, children and women being trafficked, and overall loss of civility, dignity, compassion, it just isn’t appropriate to be all jubulent and chuckly. That, in my view, is like wisecracking at a funeral in the midst of potent, still fresh grief. Having said that, though, laughter and mirth God-given things.

You do well to look for and note your blessings, and it is not wrong to have fun and happiness, but we live in an age where those are the only thing that matters to a lot of people at least in the western world.

Consider the statement; “life is a gift”.  None of us asked to be born. I understand the sentiment in reference to the lives of others as gifts to ourselves: kids, grandbabies, a beloved grandparent, a spouse. Everyone’s life is a gift to someone. But is one’s own life a gift in reference to self? I see life more like a responsibility. One’s own life, I mean.

Does that sound strange to you guys? I feel like I am an anomoly in my perspective on this. Is it an ungrateful perspective to have? I feel kind of bad for it, but it’s just my honest perspective, but it’s akin to not being dog-crazy in this dog-obsessed culture. Most people seem leary of anyone who doesn’t adore dogs. I like watching them. I love stories about the amazing things many dogs and other animals do, but not necessarily to hold, cuddle, touch, smell, clean up after.

What are some of your thoughts on the sentiment that “Life is a gift”.  Is it shocking to hear someone question the veracity of this common assertion? Does it depend on perspective? Is it just semantics? Is it different for saved vs unsaved?

Too deep for early Sunday morning?