Apologies for the silence the last few weeks. Writers block combined with a spur-of-the-moment move to my favorite place in my home state left me with little time for an entry.
The main reason why I moved to this city-in-the-clouds was because I wanted to grow. I was living too comfortably with my parents, not growing spiritually or in maturity. I needed to rock the boat a little bit, to grow up, become wiser. I needed to break out of my comfort zone. I needed space to be that which I could be, that which I was supposed to be.
Breaking out of our comfort zone is a good thing. Sometimes we become nestled in our own little world, underneath the blankets, behind walls of stone. The problem is, when we become nestled, we are comfortable. Too comfortable. Routine can be dangerous, outside of the liturgical cycle. It’s hard to meet someone when you’re comfortably nested. Just because the Kingdom of God is eternal, does not mean that our daily lives have to be the same. It’s also, I think, hard to be a good Christian if you’re not living on the edge of things. As Francis Chan wrote, “Why would we need to experience the Comforter if our lives are already comfortable?”
Almost every single saint has lived on the edge of things. Why? Because you can only see clearly how precarious, and dangerous, and truly unimportant the “world” is, when you’re standing on the edge, looking at it up close. Only when you get to know a thing, do you understand how to defeat (or ignore) a thing.
So: that’s why I moved. I was too far from the edge. Too comfortable. Too sheltered. Time to break through. Comfort zones are good once in a while–but if you’re stuck in one for too long, you’ll forget how to grow as an/into an Orthodox gentleman.