A PRESENTATION OF MY SOUL

I was excited about the topic. I was well prepared for the High School Spiritual Growth Group. I was confident they would be deeply engaged in a discussion on how to care for the soul.

Boy, was I wrong.

I made a short presentation on the soul. Admittedly, the soul is not something one can explain in words. Even anecdotes fall a bit short.

It fell flat. Below flat. The gathering appeared to be, well, catatonic. I tried spraying a few more illustrations at them. Still no connect. Not even a hint of interest. They were either bored or confused. Maybe dead. It sure felt that way.

Next I tried peppering them with questions. I asked about how they would define soul? Did they believe they had one? Could they give me an example of how the soul functions? Again, I was met with the null set. Nothing at all.

For some reason, I was determined to make this discussion work. I wanted it to flow. I had so many good points to make. Several insights I wished to share. I wanted this to be a truly inspirational night for them. At that moment, I felt like I had presented them with a fart in a bottle.

I pulled out the big guns. Stories which had always impressed folks on previous occasions. I told them about how I had witnessed my late wife’s soul fluttering off and away before me. How I knew Christine was gone several days before it became medically official.

I told them the one about how my Princeton Theological Seminary professor, James E. Loder, and how he got trapped beneath a car. I tried to make the details garner their interest. I described how Jim had stopped to help a woman with a flat tire – a woman waving a dainty white hankie. How Jim had heard the dull drone of a sleeping driver barreling across the median, and knocking the one wheel short car on top of him. I used my best storytelling voice to capture how Jim’s wife had mysteriously lifted up the hankie waver’s car, and pulled Jim out. I even made sure to add the hunt for several of his fingers. Not a single response. They looked dazed. Not amazed.

I wasn’t on a roll, I was simply compulsively sharing stories now, all seeking to lasso these youth into a good maturing discussion.  I rambled on for a good solid 25 minutes. I never took a breath. I never made a dent. By this time, they were on their phones, or watching the clock, or asking what we were having for supper.

I threw in the towel. I asked one of our youth advisors to lead the way to the hot dogs and potato salad and baked beans. The group suddenly came alive, and hustled downstairs to eat. I could not help but feel that they were running away from me – the motor mouth. I am sure I was partially correct.

I was quiet while eating. Gut bombed with disappointment. More hurt than was warranted. I indeed took this meeting of Mutes Anonymous personally. I started to listen to their table talk.

They all sounded tired. Maybe even dead tired. They had scads of homework to attend to when they got home. Most of them had worked all weekend, or participated in a sporting event. They were enjoying each other now, and I recognized that what they really needed was just to be out of the house, with some friends, thinking about nothing at all – just swapping some chatter.

I often try too hard. Way too hard. This usually means I am trying to meet my needs, and in this case, not the needs of my youth group. I needed to feel inspiring, motivational, a great catalyst for spiritual discussion. I needed these youth to be impressed and fascinated and even awed. I had worn them out with my efforts to capture their hearts.

I also took way too long to surrender. I do that a lot. Beat a dead horse. Try to emotionally bully someone into seeing my side, or perspective, or point. I miss the cues. I refuse to listen to the spirit of a situation, which in this case was screaming, “shut-up”.

My goodness, I can only imagine how much easier and better my Life would be, if I would simply listen when Life is telling me this is not a good time. Yes, there are those times when we have no choice, when it will have to be a good time. There are many times, however, when we have a clear choice. When we can act or not act. Speak or not speak. Listen or not listen. Pay attention or ignore. Timing is not always everything, but it often is. Very often. Very very often.