"The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry!"

Almost everyone that I meet these days complains of being too busy.  

After 35 years of incarceration in Shawshank Prison, Brooks Hatlen is released on probation and, on his first day as a free man, is nearly run down by a motor car - (something which hadn't been invented before he was imprisoned).  "The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry" - he writes to his buddies still on the inside.

It's great to be busy with the right stuff - but when things swing out of control it can be no laughing matter.  Just today I chatted to an engineer friend of mine who works in one of our biggest shopping centres.  He's been sick with the flu for nearly 3 weeks and working insanely late hours on top of that - so much so in fact that he's never home in time to tuck in the kids.  When it comes to rest and recuperation, his weekends don't even come close to touching sides.  

On Thursday, I had a whirlwind catch-up with a mate who was leaving that evening for 6 days holiday in Cape Town.  He reckoned he'd be chained to his laptop for at least three of those.  "Why?" I asked.  Turns out his team has been stripped down to the bone and the company he works for won't staff up.  So it's nose to the grindstone for him it would seem - with very little light at the end of the tunnel.

Work is a funny thing - (OK, not so funny a lot of the time) - when you don't have enough you get miserable and when you have too much you are so strung out that the money hardly seems worth it. 

How do we reconcile remuneration with the often overlooked spiritual purpose behind work?  They are two very different things and balancing them often proves as challenging as a game of Jenga.

Stephen da Silva in his book "Money and the Prosperous Soul" makes the critical distinction between work and toil.  The latter is to work extremely hard or incessantly.  More than this, it is an "oppressive spiritual force" which separates work from its spiritual purpose and drives away the other vital activities necessary for maintaining our connection to God and his purpose for us.

"We have embraced slavery under toil.  Not surprisingly this is linked to our slavery to debt, for our financial obligations demand that we work under toil"

Rest, says Da Silva is critical in striking the balance.  So much so in fact that God, after freeing his people from Egypt - prescribed the Sabbath not just for prayer and study but for recreation too.  In fact, until that point, no ancient society observed a day of rest like the Jews did.  

I am not about to make a law about the Sabbath itself - but I cannot help but feel that we are still required to pay the price for real recreation - yes the price - because leisure time and recreation costs - not just monetarily but in the effort and courage required to leave our gilded cells. 

"Below the surface of the commandment is the understanding that leisure is appropriate to a free people -  Leisure is conducive to freedom - and freedom is necessary for dreaming.  Without dreaming, our creativity, by which we bring solutions, beauty and all else that makes our world better, is shut down"

The Tyrannical To-Do List

Fellow blogger Dave Phipson this week posted a most provocative piece entitled "no time for inspiration".  In it, he bemoans a problem I suspect many, if not all of us experience - the critical shortage of hours in a day.  He writes:

"For millennia 24 hours have been enough for the human race (including the necessary time for rest), but life in the 21st century demands more of the day that it is able to deliver. We have run into a bit of a problem with the physical laws that govern the Universe, and it wouldn't surprise me if there are people working in lab coats in some top secret location somewhere underground, trying to slow time, attempting to change the Universe to suit our needs"

I'd go a step further than Dave - more than a "bit of a problem", it would seem the Universe is actually thumbing it's nose at us, belittling us for our short-sightedness yet at the same time, almost challenging us to put things right.

The problem however is that our days have become thoroughly strip-mined by a seemingly innocuous yet apparently indispensible invention of the Industrial Age.  (And it's not Facebook).  We emerge from our slumber to feed it.  We rise early to confront it.  We mainline on caffeine just to cope with the pressures it exerts on us.

It is, of course, the humble "to-do" list.

When, some distant day in the future, the full and unabridged history of mankind is eventually compiled and catalogued, its pages will no doubt speak of the great evils and travesties committed by mankind - genocides, wars, pogroms and the like.  To some degree, these will be countervailed by tales of great inventors, courageous humanitarians and wise leaders.

But perhaps the most tragic of its installments will attest to stuff that was actually meant to happen but which never did because well resourced and capable men and women fell slave to the most tyrannical of sceptres ever known - the to-do list.  Indeed, will the record reflect a greater despot?

"When your outputs exceed your inputs your upkeep becomes your downfall"

Arrested by Genius

When last were you intercepted by a piece of true artistic genius?  I don't mean one which you deliberately sought out yourself - like a visit to an art gallery or an evening at the proms.  I mean one which truly caught you off guard - ambushed you.  Stopped you in your tracks.

It happened to me yesterday.  What's slightly embarrassing is that it happened when I should have been somewhere else - at a wedding in fact -  (don't point fingers at me, there were no formal invitations and it was only ever intended to be an under the radar affair).

More's the reason why it took me by surprise.  I'd wondered down to the local market to buy Indian food for my wife (who went to the wedding) - a round trip of little more than 30 minutes.  It's a nice little jaunt for a Saturday morning - a market with all the trimmings and trappings you'd expect out here in the country.  Organic food.  Fresh snacks.  Hand made crafts.  Buskers and Musicians.

*

Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" is not a song you hear regularly on the local radio station.  In fact it's not a song you ever hear on local radio.  The band, at least in these parts, is generally regarded as way too heavy.  But that doesn't change the fact that the song is one of the greatest metal ballads ever recorded.  Nor does it change the fact that the song's haunting acoustical intro is the work of one of Rock Music's top 10 guitarists - Kirk Hammet.  In a world of cheap imitations, it's not a song you'd expect from a "paid by the hour" cover version artist.  (What is it about cover versioners anyway?  And why do their repertoires ALWAYS contain "Walk of Life" by Dire Straits and "Cocaine" by Eric Clapton?)

Yet here in this unassuming little corner of the North Coast, was a musician who's not only broken this mould but who has smashed it to smithereens.  For those of you who've seen the movie "August Rush" you'll remember that mesmerising sequence when the young hero discovers a steel six stringer in an attic and, totally unschooled in classical method, attacks it as though it's a combination of a drum kit, a double base and a guitar.

Well it seems Ballito has its own August Rush.  So enchanted was I by his unique sound and technique that my brief samoosa and roti incursion turned into a hour of spellbound musical rapture.  In between songs I would show my appreciation, interact a bit and at one point, even filmed some of his work on my telephone.

But then, towards the end of my stay, I asked something I instantly regretted.

Can you play "Nothing Else Matters?"

In light of what I've written about this song, it was hardly your classic "Does a bear sh*t in the woods" question.

In fact, it was an episode of howling insanity!  The careless work of a moment.  I've never met a guitarist who could play this song, much less do justice to that hauntingly beautiful intro.  So in asking, surely I was setting him up for almost certain failure?

"50/50" he replied, before striking a few speculative chords.

And then he started.  If I'd closed my eyes I might well have been front row at any one of Metallica's live acts.  He didn't just sound like Kirk Hammet.  Kirk Hammet sounds like him! And this was his so-called "50/50" version!

(By the way, in the process, I defined a new genre of music myself.  In recent years we've witnessed the rise of the air guitarist.  In fact, there are global "air guitar" festivals (admittedly held in silly out of the way countries like Sweden and Finland).  But if you'd been at the Litchi Orchard this Saturday, you'd have seen early signs of a new breed of muso - the air drummer)

Yet in the full hour I sat there - not a single person seemed to notice Phil.  No-one took a photo.  No-one threw loose change.  No-one even seemed to comment.  If ever there was a case of "pearls before pigs" this was it.

It reminded me of a verse from Ecclesiastes:

"I have seen slaves on horseback while princes go on foot like slaves"

A wake up call from a Bird

Lisa and I had the privilege of spending the week between Christmas and New Year house-sitting for a friend in Gillitts just north of Kloof.  The home was palatial (by our standards) with a magnificently verdant garden and private leisure area.  It was a great place to unwind from the pressures of 2011 because, though I'd had a very successful year financially, my vertical relationship with Christ had suffered a bit.

On our first morning, we were awakened by a persistent tapping on a downstairs window which, it turned out, was an Olive Thrush hammering with his beak on the glass just above the breakfast table.  Though he came and went throughout the day, he spent most of his daylight hours engaged in this transient activity.  And though I know he was probably just attracted to his own reflection, I imagined his deeper motivation was to try and break in and explore the mysterious universe which lay behind this frustratingly reflective surface.  It turns out, by the way, that this bird is a daily feature of life at this lovely home and that the people who live there have grown quite fond of his eccentricity.

How often, I wondered, am I like that bird?   Tapping with obsessive yet fruitless curiosity upon windows and doors which, quite simply, were never meant to yield in the first place?  And what could it teach me of my working year?  Like that bird,  had I spent most of 2011 trading the world of generious possibilities that I DID have access to for one which is perhaps not meant for me?  How much did the ambitions which fuelled me in the short term actually wear me out in the long? Why, for example do I long to be seen as an authority in my profession - to be renowned and honoured for my expertise?  Yet how big a toll will this (oftentimes subconscious) yearning - actually ask of me?

I am thankful for that simple little illustration because it taught me the importance of perspective in seeing all which God has placed in front of me.  As David says in his song of praise in 2 Samuel 22, even though I have entered the Kingdom through a narrow door of salvation, my entrance has brought me into a spacious place, one which God has given me because he delights in me.

It reminds me of the one of the closing chapters of C.S. Lewis' "The Last Battle" when Tirian and Digory encounter a stable door in the the middle of a Narnian forest.

"It seems, then," said Tirian, "that the Stable seen from within and the Stable seen from without are two different places."  

"Yes, said the Lord Digory.  "Its inside is bigger than its outside"

Bill Johnson, in his book "Secrets to imitating God" re-echoes this truth:

"Life in the Kingdom, which is past the narrow entrance of salvation, is completely different.  It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.  It is here we find the Lord saying to us that we're no longer servants but friends"

Because so many of my mis-spent ambitions and worries have to do with work - the quantity, quality and even the occasional lack of it - I have drafted a few imperatives to remind me of God's goodness in the spacious place he has placed me:

• Work is only one of the ways in which God provides for my needs and that God's provision can take many forms - often beyond the financial
• I understand that it is not the LEVEL of provision that matters because in God I can never have too much or too little - the Israelites found this out when Manna fell from heaven (Exodus 16 vs 17)
• I understand that all work - even menial, seemingly unfulfilling and unpaying work - is a means to glorify God.  I will give thanks for it all, acknowledging Him as the source
• My work is firstly the place of mission and influence - income is a distant third place spin-off
• My work is a unique instrument with which to worship God - I am willing and able to work and thus refuse to adopt a doctrine which says that I am perfected in the hardship of unemployment
• I will not second guess my allocation of "talent" as a way of judging how much or how little of it I am to invest.  I will invest it ALL wholeheartedly and in faith to leave a legacy.
• My work is not about being the "best IN the world" but about being the "best FOR  the world"
• When it comes to my dreams for my business, I will seek the Lord for patience - because I believe that it is a lack of patience (and not failure) that sinks dreams

 "Small is the gate and narrow is the road that leads to life"

Sparrow Faith and my own business

A friend once likened running your own business to jumping out of at 100 story building.  As you hurtle past the 75th floor someone inside yells: "how's it going?" You answer - "so far so good!" 

A curiously apt description for how I feel at the moment.  

I read recently of how battle-hardened and even decorated soldiers of The Great War - in spite of prolonged exposure to fire - would suddenly lose their nerve and be court-martialled for cowardice.

I see a lot of me in that anecdote.  Minus, of course, what Wilfred Owen called "the monstrous anger of the guns".  The so-called "nerve" which spirited me from my corporate job 3 years ago - and which to some degree has sustained me ever since - is faltering once again.  

The relative and inevitable lull which settles at the beginning of the year has me worrying about my future income as though the last 36 months of God's goodness and blessing had never actually happened.

Two things are behind this:

Comparison

When I compare myself to the financial/career struggles of my peers - more specifically the relative blessings I have enjoyed - something in my subconscious says:  "it's just a matter of time before my fortune lapses and I am in the same boat as those poor souls. There's no way some of us can take all the blessings."

This view is flawed on so many levels it's not even worth unpacking.  Instead, let me direct you to my post "Comparison Kills - That is All".

Sparrow Faith - or lack thereof

Probably one of Jesus' most profound illustrations (Matt 6:26) spoke to the type of faith he expected of his followers.  Craig Hill, in his book "Wealth, Riches and Money" calls "Sparrow Faith" the "foundation cornerstone of Christian financial structure".

"This is an absolute trust and confidence and leaning of one's entire personality upon the fact that God loves me and will make provision for me.  If I am working 40 hours a week for an employer, the money I receive is not my due from him, but rather provision made available to me by grace as a gift from my Father, who loves me.  This fact then makes God my source of provision and my employer merely delegated as the current channel through which my provision comes."

Hill goes on to show how Sparrow Faith will serve us when the foundations of our employment are rocked, either by recession, re-structuring or something else:

"...my heart is not terrorized by fear of lack of provision, because my employer is not my source.  The source has not changed.  God's love for me has not changed.  God may simply use a different channel through which to provide for my needs."

In closing, I was greatly heartened by the story of a Congolese refugee car guard who, having erected a rudimentary blackboard in the parking lot of a Paarl shopping centre, provided lively explanations to mathematical problems to whoever would listen.  Once a maths teacher, Fernando Ogadi's obvious flair for sums soon caught the eye of a Sunward Park headmistress who was overwhelmed by his charm and who pulled strings to get him a job at a Boksburg school.

I suppose this story doesn't say much about Sparrow Faith or Comparison.  Yet when you consider that guarding cars is probably one of the lousiest jobs you can have, the spirit and tenacity of this man is strangely encouraging.