Some friends and I were recently reminiscing about our early days in the faith, back when we were on fire and full of answers. We had each moved cross-country to join vibrant churches where we witnessed amazing things: People healed, marriages restored, addicts rescued and lives transformed—including ours.
Life is sweeter and simpler near the headwaters but we can’t stay there. Nor can we portage around all the cataracts and waterfalls downriver. Time’s relentless flow eventually disperses communities, dissolves relationships, dampens passion and, in my case, disturbs faith.
Most painful has been the change in my relationships with God and with my wife, Susan. These life partners shaped who I am and were the source of wonderful blessings for me and many others. Susan died fifteen months ago; God has seemed distant for much longer. I don’t doubt their continued existence but I no longer enjoy their presence like before—and I miss them terribly.
There’s no going back to what used to be; there’s only going toward what will be, which gives me hope.
And there’s making the most of the days between now and then.