(I need to begin with a disclaimer; more of an admission really: Have you every committed your time and energy to a movie that sets the problem, builds and captures you emotionally... then ends? No resolution. No closure. No aha moment. This post may be like that.)
Sometimes I write with an end in mind. Sometimes there is a big idea that forges its way through to conclusion. Sometimes I begin and just see where the path leads. And sometimes there is just a gnawing - a bit of a bleeding beginning point. (That alliteration was brought to you by four years of seminary and countless sermons.) This one feels like a combination, with a leaning toward the last.
So here goes...
Over the course of closing out an old year and launching a new, I read multiple writings on the clean slate that is 2019. I reposted something I'd previously written centering around this idea, (see A Personal Note to the New Year.) And though I agree with most I read, and certainly (you'd hope) with what I wrote, there was that gnawing.
Here's the giant premise:
As much as we'd like to think it so;
as resolved and motivated for change as we'd like to be;
the whiteboard that is the new year - 2019 - is not clean.
It is not blank.
Wow! I feel like an anti-positive-thinking deviant or faithless pessimist to ponder the thought - much less to write it. (Don't check out yet! I have a feeling this may actually go somewhere.)
There was no magical Y2K like barrier that suddenly erased our whiteboard when the clock struck 12:00:01 on January 1, 2019. (BTW... if you remember, there wasn't one corresponding to Y2K either, and that caused huge relief!)
Back to the giant premise: I posited the whiteboard that is the new year is not clean. The fact is we began writing on that board long ago. We crossed the divide into a new year carrying luggage. Each of us made the voyage with bags fully packed - packed with past hopes, past fears, past regrets, past happinesses, past hurts, past resolutions, past lookings-forward... You get the idea. (And sorry for the mixing of metaphors.)
So giant premise part 1? Simply stated, the whiteboard has a lot of crap on it already. Good stuff. Bad stuff. And a ton of stuff so illegible it can't be deciphered.
Giant premise part 2 (pt.1b? - I don't know, I'm making this up as I go):
Things have to be erased.
You are either WAY ahead of me, or disappointed with my lack of Aha inspiration (or both - see disclaimer!). But the fact of the matter is, space must be cleared. Writing, doodling away with the various colors, is fun. It feels - and is - so creative. But erasing can be exhilarating. It is cathartic. It is freeing. And it is necessary.
White space must be created. (I would posit that it can be equally as creative as multi-marker doodles.) And the only way to do this erasing is with vigorous and intentional swiping left-to-right and up-and-down. Some spots will require work. We will have to break out the spray and rags. Two-handed full-body waggle action will be necessary to scrub away some of the long-written remnants.
And somewhere along the way, someone has written on our boards with permanent marker; some of it in tiny script, some in 42 point bold Helvitica. It is not easily erased. But it is not really permanent. It doesn't need be. I hesitate to ask this, but I'm asking: Trust me...?
It is not permanent.
It can be erased.
It can be cleared.
The white board can be cleaned.
Will it take some scrubbing? Yep. Will it be easy? Nope. Can it be erased? Yep.
Those of you who know me may wonder why I haven't brought the Bible into this as of yet. Well, not to disappoint. We often read the following quote from the Apostle Paul; it pops up in motivational memes and rear-window stickers:
...press on toward to goal... - Philippians 3:14
Notice the ellipses before and after the quoted phrase. Let's focus on the one preceding. Something comes before the pressing. The context...context...context within me wants to back way up; but for now we'll just move halfway back into verse 13:
But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind
and straining forward to what lies ahead,
I press on toward the goal...
Before the pressing comes forgetting. There cannot be real pressing without some forgetting. Staying with our white board metaphor: Before the writing comes the erasing.
There are things we must be free of. Free to press by forgetting. Free to write by erasing. Oh, and some good news:
There are things we must be free of. Free to press by forgetting. Free to write by erasing. Oh, and some good news:
Whom the Son sets free is truly free! - John 8:36
God doesn't call us to write on already jumbled, decipherable scribbles. He frees us to write on clean spaces. He frees us to erase and create.
New year,
You are a whiteboard, but you are not clean.
I want to write new things - incredible things on you.
But space has to be cleared. I will scrub. And I will write.
You don't have to be completely clean before I begin my new doodles.
I will clear one spot at a time.
I will the reread the good with a smile.
I may weep over some of what is written.
But neither will lock me in.
I am free to erase.
I am free to write.
I am free to forget.
I am free to press on...
For now,
D
