 |
|
 |
Holding On
Bill was sure it was alright. After all, he had been living that way a long time. It just seemed so natural to hold on to hurt. So when he heard other people talking about “getting rid of baggage” and thereby experiencing the overwhelming peace of God in his life, he held back. “Shalom” was a distant, unknown factor, available to the spiritual elite.
Deep down there was a funny kind of satisfaction about ruminating in the past; security I suppose. Ah, the past, the past! Bill loved the past. Bygone days were the glory days, the longed for experiences that he drew strength from. He brought the past into the present and held on lest the beautiful memories slip away from him and deprive him of his own kind of peace – the peace of the Comfort Zone.
The only problem with his game plan for life was that life didn’t stay where he was. It beckoned him on, challenging him to leave his past behind him and urging him to stretch out his hand in faith to the “Shalom”. But he rebutted the calls and resisted the encouragement. “Leave me alone to enjoy my past!” he cried. “I’m so well used to what I know. I like where I am. This is my life, my plan, my peace.”
Somewhere down the echoes of time he heard a faint plea, “But Bill, my peace I give to you, not the peace of the world, not the peace of the past, not the peace of the Comfort Zone. Trust me Bill, trust me.”
“But it’s stronger than me, and I do so enjoy my peace. Don’t worry. I believe in You one hundred per cent. But please don’t stretch me, don’t call me. I’m happy where I am.”
“Then stay,” came the Voice. “Do not come with Me, and live in the squalor of your peace. I must press on towards the goal of my Father.”
So Bill stayed. He kept holding on, and growing old, and growing cold. The warmth of his past, the strength of his peace waned and slowly he became indistinguishable from the rest of the flickering seekers with their lights glowing more feeble and distant by the day.
|
|
 |