Philip's Tunnel to Nowhere 3

I’ve known seasons of spiritual desolation and of distance from God — mercifully, short ones — and I don’t think either description is accurate for where I am right now. I don’t feel far from God. I guess I’d call my present phase one of mediocre closeness to God.

Supposedly if you’re really doing the Christian thing right, if your time spent reading the Bible is filled with the Holy Spirit, then each day is supposed to be filled with new revelations and insights. At least, that’s how I infer it’s supposed to work from how wiser people talk about Scripture. That’s not how it’s working for me right now, though. I really am trying very hard to devote time daily to prayer and Scripture — no, that’s not a legalistic thing in which to pride myself, and besides, 5 minutes a day is not much worthy of boasting about anyway, but sometimes you need quasi-legastic guideposts to lead you to do what deep down you really want to do, but don’t feel like. Well, I need those.

At any rate, so I don’t really feel depressed or distant from God these days. It’s just been…. well, a really really long time since I’ve had any sort of Bible study that didn’t just feel like a cursory reading of the text. My pray life seems more fruitful, but even then on occasion it feels like it degenerates into reading out a laundry list. The real battle, in both spiritual disciplines, is to keep my brain on topic. I really don’t feel like there’s a lot of guidance out there for ADHD followers of Jesus to know what we’re supposed to be doing. Should I be painting pictures or writing songs as an act of worship instead of trying to keep my mind on prayer for five minutes straight? I’m serious! Sort of. I’m sure there are spiritually mature Christians who are ADHD, but I just don’t happen to know who they are offhand. If I did, I’m sure it would be helpful to compare notes to know what I’m supposed to be doing.

Maybe I’m just thinking too hard about a whole lot of nothing. Maybe God just wants me to be who I am and try to learn more about him, and whatever sticks, sticks. I really don’t want to be a know-it-all, because the Gospel of grace really is so far beyond my comprehension that it’s absurd to say I already know it. But… theologically speaking, the novelty, the surprise just isn’t there really. Maybe it’s OK that it’s not.

I don’t think it’s as simple as just finding new study resources, but at least in the age of the Internet we have access to all kinds of helpful stuff. I do a lot of walking and can always use thought-provoking mp3s. John Piper’s Desiring God audio archives appear to have a lot of good stuff. Nothing too revolutionary as I probably should have been listening to this, and sermons and stuff, a long time ago.

As for outreach stuff, I haven’t put a whole lot of thought into it lately. What little bit I have surrounded a visit to — don’t laugh! — a suburban shopping mall to get me thinking about where younger people outside the urban core are hanging out. Maybe one day I’ll talk more about that. Cornerstone is coming up in two weeks. I’m not all that excited — right now driving up there feels more like a chore, frankly — but I’m sure once I get there I’ll be all inspired about outreachy stuff for a week or two, and then settle back into my routine and on we go.

To my utter embarrassment, I wrote the following one Sunday afternoon a few weeks back and never posted it up here as intended. I’ll just leave it unfinished.

Somerville, TN — Today i finally got around to something i’d been wanting to do for a while: driving out to the seat of one of the counties surrounding Memphis, wandering around the courthouse square, and just basically getting to know someplace outside my daily millieu.

Somerville’s downtown sort of typifies the sleepy Southern town center. I’m sure being here on the Sunday before Memorial Day only heightens the effect, but i’ll just bet this place seems pretty sleepy the other weekends too. There are some little shops that look like they function during the work week: antiques, hardware, furniture. There are the lawyer’s offices, the insurance and real estate agents, a portrait gallery, the community newspaper, the county job center. And then there are an awful lot of closed up retail spaces, too, with their “For rent” signs. One little shop, long since cleared out, has a sticker in the door advertising fine soaps from Crabtree and Evelyn.

I’m left thinking about how our country has pretty much abandoned the town center. (To be sure, you could find plenty of abandoned storefront in Memphis too; I’m in no way asserting this is only true of hinterland towns, although at least Memphis’ downtown functions, barely, on the weekends.) It’s hardly a new observation, of course, but little places like this just aren’t central to life the way they once were, not unless you have a hearing scheduled or want to get your portrait done. I’m conflicted between lamenting this loss and stoicly asserting, “It is what it is,” time marches on, no one can stand in the way of progress. Certainly the Wal-Mart down the road will take care of your needs on the Sunday before Memorial Day, and cheaply!, so there’s no need to wait until Monday to visit one of these little shops. Save money. Live better.

But seeing these abandoned storefronts also rekindles some of the thoughts I discussed earlier, about creating a space full of meaning to young people, of feeling bold enough to dream that we could change our environment for the better. In the context of some daydreaming induced by a recent conversation with my insanely successful poker buddy, it gets me thinking: Supposing cost were no barrier, how could someone use one of these spaces to really bless a town like this? What sort of enterprise could help rebuild a sense of community?

I really don’t know. A non-profit youth hangout/drop-in center? An arts and performance space? A coffee shop? A highly-regarded restaurant that could draw customers from Memphis, Nashville, and points beyond? Or should we just accept that small-