Filling in the Rabbit Holes

 

Now I’m not a gardener, but if I were, I imagine that rabbit holes would be my least favourite garden feature. Yesterday, an unseasonably warm and sunny September morning (my birthday, in fact) found us weaving our way down the path to the shore at White Park Bay. The meadow was pock marked with evidence of old rabbit holes. It put me in mind of some of the rabbit holes in our thinking, ever since beginning this adventure with cancer.

The whole suddenness of the thing, and its long term uncertainty is a recipe for thinking long thoughts. Long straggly thoughts that hurtle one after the other down into a warren of trails that in the end don’t really lead anywhere. Well, not anywhere positive. You’d think that, with our positive attitudes, with all the answers to prayer we’ve already seen, and  a lifetime in Christian missions, we’d be immune to wandering down rabbit holes. But no.

 

Here are some of our rabbit holes. 

Peter : How long is this for? They said the treatment would be 12 months plus. What does plus mean? After a year, will we get back to where we were? Or, is that just me hoping. Things change. People will have gone. Others come in to pick up our roles. Will there still be room for us? Yet, it all just seems so incomplete to have left when we did.

Anna : Will we ever get back to Greece? I miss our apartment there. Being able to make it home and somewhere I can feel I belong. But here we are now. Do I really fit in? Who’s in my network here? Will I ever fit into society in N Ireland?

 

There’s a punishing logic to rabbit holes. They lead you on, because, in their own way, they do make sense. 

“If this.. then that..” The logic goes. And before you know it, you find yourself in a dark place. Without a clear exit.

There’s also a certain security in rabbit holes. Presumably that’s why rabbits dig them. To keep their young safe. 

Sometimes there seems to be a security in letting those streams of thought draw you down the rabbit holes. 

Grasping for certainties But in the end, it’s a temporary security. The first heavy rains of winter flood them out. Or an enthusiastic terrier digs his way in. 

And, of course, they're not that good for the health of the garden either. 

So what do you do with rabbit holes then?

A bit of advice from Anna. “Fill them in with the word of God”

Let those earthy promises of God - 

  “He who began a good work in you, will carry it on to completion”

  “My presence will go with you .. I will give you rest.”

  “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”

  “They that hope in the Lord, will renew their strength

    They shall run and not be weary. They will walk and not faint”

Let those loamy clods of earth, that rich life-giving soil fill the holes in your understanding

Let them renew your thinking, because no matter how obvious and logical your reasoning seems, it doesn’t take into account the greatness, awesomeness and overwhelming love of a God who cares, and who is always there for us.

As Paul says “make all those thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:5)

Let your thought life, be so captivated by the amazing, attractive, powerful personality of Jesus Christ, so that you are no longer losing yourself down the rational rabbit holes of your own mind. And then, believe me, it will all begin to make sense.