I understand the messiness of life, and agree with the statement that “life is messy,” but I frequently rail against truths that shatter my fantasies of life not needing to be messy.
I don’t recall ever using the phrase “can you dig it?” back in the ‘70’s when it was in vogue, but during a recent time of reflection—I have daily episodes of this time-consuming practice—the phrase came to mind.
I may have been thinking about God – not the one of my childhood, but the one I think hides from me – or I may have been contemplating the practice of psychotherapy, but more often than not during this time of year I think about baseball, the Chicago Cubs in particular.
I wish I could give up my search for God, who I often think is a construct to help me make sense of a messy world, but I can’t. I really want to believe God exists and cares about the world and its people, just as I care deeply about the people in my practice.
I feel privileged to spend time with my patients, each of whom is on their own journey trying to make sense of a messy world. And when hope is restored, even fleetingly, I marvel at how imperfect human beings can connect and experience healing where chaos once reigned.
And then there are the Cubs, the much beloved North Siders, who have captured the hearts of Chicagoans for over a century. The team hasn’t won a World Series since 1908, and last participated in one in 1945. During my episodic spiritual musings about life’s messiness, crazy and creative wonderments, I oftentimes stumble into the belief that I will discover the truth of God’s existence before my favorite team makes it into The Fall Classic—what are the odds? Neither may occur in my lifetime, but hope gives me solace and the will to pursue both with enthusiasm.
If God will have the patience with me that I have with the Cubs all bets are off, and I’ll root for the unpredictable.
Relationships are messy, but few among us can live without them. And yet I relish being independent— sometimes to a fault. The messy part is that in so doing I deprive loved ones of the opportunity to care for and love me. Being vulnerable, when appropriate, is not my strong suit, but if I want to experience the richness of reciprocal love and caring I need to find my way into that messy un-comfortableness that being vulnerable offers.
Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk, writes about heroic love and humility, and how necessary those traits are in allowing others to sustain us when we are incapable of sustaining ourselves—or, in my words, engulfed by the random messiness of life.
I have likened episodes of messiness to being trapped in a crucible. A crucible made of porcelain, ceramic or metal, can have a slick inner surface when not in use. The more we struggle the more we slip into states of hopelessness fraught with frustration. However, in our strivings to emerge from the slippery slopes that we and life inflict on ourselves and each other, the creative potential of who we are can often be realized—sometimes we find truths about ourselves we didn’t believe possible.
A recent hip replacement surgery was an uncomfortable reminder of how I resist being vulnerable and instead embrace independence. My full recovery demanded “giving myself over” to my vulnerable state and allowing others to care for me. I found unexpected contentment in the process – a welcome realization.
Brokenness can be mended, but a remnant of that brokenness always remains. Valiant searches come to appropriate endings, and as Strider said in The Lord of the Rings: “…not all those who wander are lost…and from the ashes a fire shall be woken…”
Now if only the Cubbies…
by 
Children love mess – it is as we age that we lose the ability to embrace the mud puddle and the pouring rain. I watched the Preakness Saturday and gloried in the triumph of a strong horse in the blinding rain. I think we need to remind ourselves that in mess and chaos unexpected and wonderful things can and do happen.
If it ever rains in California will you wade into the puddles–I hope so because , you are correct, therein do wonderful things happen. Thanks for your reflection on what we often take for granted.
Life certainly is messy, as I discovered just today. Against my plans for an orderly sorting of my files, a day dedicated to organizing my office, I was interrupted by the dismal outlook on life as expressed by a loved one, and the fact that one of my parishioners received some bad news at the hospital. As is so often the case, the offering of care and sympathy trumped my well-laid plans.
When God created the universe in an orderly fashion, I don’t think he fully-anticipated the Chicago Cubs, whose century-long execution of the game of baseball has resulted in a century of disappointment, unless we mean “execution” in another sense of the word, in which case the Cubs have succeeded marvelously!
I was a long-suffering Pittsburgh Pirate fan in 1956, when Dale Long brought some order out of chaos by hitting eight home runs in eight consecutive games, one of which I witnessed at Forbes Field. This feat was the only emergence of beauty for the erratic and error-prone Pirates, who lost 88 games that year and finished in seventh place in the National League, a few games ahead of the aforementioned Cubs, who came in last. What a mess, yet again!
But it is important to remember that all of this disorder takes place against the backdrop of the divine order of the universe, both physically and spiritually. God’s order will ultimately win the day, even though nature itself has fits of chaos and disruption, earthquake, wind, and fire, and even though love is often interrupted by hatred.
The occasional emergence of love and beauty, a sense of joy and destiny, bears witness to transcendent realities which are not experienced as the norm. The norm is to lose 88 games.
I believe in the ultimate wondrous order of the universe, and I believe in God, because I have to in order to make sense of the reality I witness and experience as the status quo. This is as good a reason as any to believe in God–the reason from necessity.
While we are waiting for this divine order to live up to its billing, we practice “heroic love and humility,” as Merton says.
Bill,
Like it or not, Bill, you are a reason I continue this magical search–thank you.
Roger and Bill – We all know, not just theoretically, but personally, that life is messy and that we, more often than not, are both participants in and producers of some of it. God is not surprised by this. In fact I would imagine that one of our mutually admired Biblical texts is that found in St. Paul’s writing in Romans 8:5 … “While we were yet ‘messy,’ Christ died for us.” Thank God that he was not afraid of the mess and messiness of the world and jumped into it to redeem it. What unexpected miracles came out of that valiant trip! For me, two of them are knowing both of you! Bill, one of my High School Young Life Leaders back in Pittsburgh, and Roger, one of my Men’s Small Group Brothers in La Canada. TWO pretty unique and unusual souls who have both cared for me in my messiness and nurtured my belief in Jesus, our MESS-iah! Who -on earth- would have fully anticipated that? But then … I’m not sure many Buc fans in 1956 would have fully anticipated 1960, when the improbable Pittsburgh Pirates took on the mighty Mantle – Maris – Berra – Ford Yankees in the World Series … and WON! It went from the “ashes” of ’56 to the “fire” of ’60 … from “a messy” to “a-MAZ-ing.” So …keep hope alive for them pesky Cubs. In the heroic love and humility and vulnerability and brokenness of Jesus, he came back from the dead when NOBODY thought it possible. Taking off a bit on the words of everyone’s all time favorite Cub, Ernie Banks, “Let’s pray, too!”
Very nice play on words, Chuck. I still can’t believe my father’s Bronx Bombers lost in ’60. God’s joke? I cherish our time together in group, and the 6*’s of separation that brought Bill into my life after he’d been in yours. Thanks for reading and commenting on this.
In the muck and mire of life, disappointments, dreariness, and heartache come marching in like little tin soldiers, here comes another one. Is it life out to get us? Our reactions are what makes us victims or victorious. We decide. But this is great news. It’s profoundly simple. But I think truth is profoundly simple but most of the time we prefer doing the dance around it because when it comes down do it, it’s more interesting. Here’s to life and all it’s glorious, clanging, gooey mess of a beautiful thing. I’m with Jesus, let’s dive in unafraid and live!
Your imagery is spot-on–“..it’s glorious, clanging, gooey mess of a beautiful thing.” You must be a singer and writer–poet too!
Thanks, Jo Anne–see you in Kalifornia–if they’re allowing expatriates back?
Good to read your thoughts! I too struggle with acceptance of God, but continue to believe in my own way… Life is definitely messy at times!!!
Margie,
Do you remember the pleasure of finger painting when being in the mix of messiness didn’t matter? Thanks for your comment, and I look forward to hearing from your son.
Good stuff Doc its never to late to discover something about yourself that may lead to you having a more fulfilling life. It is possible to be independent and and to still be cared for. The trick is to know when to be each one. I know for you that could be hard but you are a Doctor of Phycology so I am sure you can figure when to be what. And I guarantee you that well happen before the Cubs win a World Series
I may come down on the Cub’s side on this one–I’m an older “dog” now, and though still young in heart–new tricks elude me. Thanks for your comment andencouragement.
I do “dig” how you mix in the messiness of both the sublime and the more mundane. Miracles do happen along the “magical mystery tour.” May you enjoy the ride and this coming season of undying hope while rooting for the Cubs AND yourself. God is in the holy whole of it all, Write on, mon ami.