Time to Play

I think I've forgotten how to play.

I'm reading an amazing book by Mark Buchanan right now, called The Rest of God. It is dealing with the wildly misunderstood concept of Sabbath. I just finished a chapter on play, some could even call it a Theology of Play. In it, he explained how as adults, we have forgotten what it means to lose track of time and just play, for the sake of playing. Instead, we have become slaves to the clock and have stopped playing and instead choose to sit and stare at others playing.

The irony is that the best memories of our lives are when we are playing. The risks we took, the exhilaration we felt, the laughter, the feeling of being alive. The crazy thing is, that I don't make time to play. Not that we should "schedule" it in, like a golf lesson, but that we just take our watches and toss them on our nightstand, grab friends and loved ones and just go have an adventure.

My mind is instantly drawn to moments of extreme danger and risk, followed by laughter and the feeling that every last muscle and cell is dancing with you. A smile covers my face as I think of the first time I ever went 4 wheeling. It was a couple of years ago with Dan Syde down at their property that exists for one reason, to play. We hopped on these crazy, huge, hulking machines, and after a few brief instructions (here's the gas, here's the brake - see you in the stream!) I was off to the races. Something inside of me, someone else I think, took over and I wasn't, you know, getting the feel of the ATV, I was gunning it. I was flying all over the place, going as fast as I could, then hitting the brakes and turning hard so I could have that Dukes of Hazzard moment. Then I saw some hills in the landscape and starting to climb, and drop and swerve. My wrists were getting sore - but I didn't care. I was grinning like a grandpa watching toddlers play on Christmas morning. My eyes were wide open, with wind caused tears streaming down my cheeks. And then I was something out of the corner of my eye - a strange mass of land jutting out of the center of the rivine. Could it be? A JUMP???? At first I went over it cautiously, just to make sure that I wouldn't hit the base of the jump and be thrown into the distance while the ATV sat chuckling at me. It seemed safe, sort of. I hit it a little faster, and felt a little air beneath my tires. HECK YES! Before long, I was starting as far back as I could and going as fast as it would carry me... Launching high and far into the air and landing with a resounding thud, now my whole body is feeling out of whack, but still the adrenal glands were serving as my motivation and anesthesia. Then up the hills, racing as fast as I could through the orchard, up on two wheels - giggling like a little school girl. Even the moment of near tragedy, when I gunned it going down the hill and lost control - slammed head-on into a tree and flew 20 feet into the forest hitting my head on a few saplings, even that moment couldn't dampen my joy. Although when I rolled the ATV 5 minutes later, I figured maybe it was time to get some lunch.

My heart races back into memories of falling off a horse on ranch in Colorado, going cliff jumping in the Adirondacks with college buddies, jumping on trampolines, swinging on a trapeze that dropped me into a huge lake, playing war with bottlerockets at my friend Chris' house, playing wiffle ball in my back yard, leading dorm raids in college (then refusing to serve my sentence), and snowmobiling with Angela on a surprise Valentines getaway.

All of these were times that time seemed to be inconsequential - in fact - when I was on my wilderness trip of '01, we had a day all to ourselves, a solo day. I had no watch and never was a boy scout, so I had no way of telling time. At some point during the afternoon, after spending time journaling and singing and fighting off a swarm of angry ladybugs (long story), I sat down and leaned back against two huge pine trees that were so close that I could rest against both of them at the same time, sort of like mission style furniture. Well - I fell asleep and when I woke up, I had no idea how long I had been asleep. I still couldn't see the sun being that I was deep in the forest - so that didn't help me. I knew it had to be for a while based on my sore throat (huge snorer) and stiff neck, but I was totally at a loss for how much time had passed. It was at first unsettling and a little scary - was it 15 minutes or 3 hours? I checked my facial hair to see if it was even the same day, yup, same patchy stubble. After my initial confusion passed, I started to realize how refreshing it was to have it NOT MATTER. It honestly didn't matter, I hadn't slept through class, I wasn't running late to work, or missing a key episode of 24... My day was all about enjoyment and resting. A sabbath.

Our hearts desperately need that - a time to play and rest. A time to laugh and dance and sing and not care. A time to feast and burp and show our bellies to the sun. Nowhere to be. No way to be reached. This is what we have been created for - in fact we are commanded to take this time. I know the battle you fight - I fight it too... "But I have to get this done, and it's our only day to do that!!" The guilt arrives quickly and deeply - screaming infidelities in our ears. What would our lives look like if we fought for time to do nothing - to get away, even if it is just to your back yard - to take the cell phone and stick it underneath your sweaters in the bottom drawer.

It is in this joyful freedom that we most connect to the heart of God. We can hear Him when He speaks, follow when He leads, laugh when he jokes, and snuggle when He's close.

What are your moments? When have you just been able to play! No time, no deadlines, no technology - just you and the freedom to BE. I want to play again.