I’ve just finished Reaching Out by Henri Nouwen. I loved Beyond The Mirror, the final essay in the book. In it he reflects on a near death experience that he had after being hit by the wing mirror of a lorry. During the experience he felt the presence of Jesus more powerfully than ever before and a sense of love that blew away all the cobwebs of insecurity and anxiety that marked his (and all) human experience. In the light of this love he became aware of the meaning of being “of the world,” as opposed to being “from above.”

Being “of the world” means that I look to the world for affirmation, security, identity. Precisely because I need the world to provide these I cannot freely love. I’m bound by my need for others to recognise me.

Being “from above” means that I do not look to the world for my security. I find my affirmation, security and identity in God and his unconditional love. Because off this I can really love because I don’t need others to tell me who I am.

“…the whole ministry of Jesus was a ministry ‘from above’, a ministry born out of relationship with the Father in Heaven. All the questions Jesus raised, all the answers he gave, all the confrontations he evoked and consolations he offered, all were rooted in his knowledge of the Father’s unconditional love. his ministry was not oppressive, since it came from his deep experience of being unconditionally loved and and was in no way motivated by a personal need for affirmation and acceptance. He was completely free precisely because he did not belong to the world, but exclusively to the Father.”

Nouwen is also surprised at his friends’ reactions to the news that he had survived surgery:
“Unanimously, they congratulated me on my restoration to health and expressed their gratitude that I was doing so well again. Although I was deeply greatful for their attention and affection, the encounter with God in my hours near death made me wonder whether being ‘better again’ was indeed the best thing for me…Would it not have been preferable to have been completely set free from this ambiguous world and taken home in full communion with God?”

Months after surviving this ordeal he was confronted by friends who pointed out that:
“When you were ill, you were centred, and the many people who visited you felt a real peace coming from you, but since you are healed and have taken on your many tasks again, much of your old restlessness and anxiety has reappeared.”

He finally reflects that it is necessary to continually expose ourselves to this love (or as much as we can of this love while we’re here) in order that we don’t lose sight of it.

Take a look at Boring Malmö, that wonderful city where I once lived (and hopefully will again). (Tack till The Bruhn Family)

Being an extrovert has its drawbacks. I get my energy from being around people. At the moment life is pretty isolated, which means not a lot of people, which means not a lot of energy. While starting this company I’m working alone, day in, day out.

Something has to change…

Saying goodbye to friends is so painful to do. I remember reading A Purpose Driven Life, in which Rick Warren alludes to the fact that this is because we are “made to last forever.” He says:

“This life is not all there is.
Life on earth is just the dress rehersal before the real production. You will spend far more time on the other side of death-in eternity- than you will here. Earth is the staging area, the preschool, the tryout for your life in eternity…
The Bible says, “God has…planted eternity in the human heart” [Ecclesiastes 3:11]…
When you fully comprehend that there is more to life than just here and now, and you realize that life is just preparation for eternity, you will begin to live differently. You will start living in light of eternity, and that will color how you handle every relationship, task and circumstance.”

Perhaps the reason saying goodbye is so hard is that relationships are supposed to last. We were made to give of ourselves to others and for our friendships to be marked by an ongoing commitment. It is this kind of commitment which allows us to transcend superficiality precisely because conflicts do not mean the risk of losing the other.

Swimming at a lifeguard-less beach on a hot and sunny day was just what I needed yesterday. The sea was warm and the sand clean. The place was Rhossili, which is apparently too far out for most peoples’ Saturday afternoon recreation.