Near and far

I want my efforts to be worth it | Vadim Khurin

I

t so happens that while reading a good book, listening to an insightful sermon, or attending an inspiring conference, I become filled with the decision to change.  I get the desire to become a visionary, so that in all my thoughts and actions I strive toward something that is really important.  I want to reach those targets and goals that are meaningful, so that I could be prepared to live and die for them, if needed.  That is what I want.

After a while, I realize that I am simply consumed by work, which has absolutely nothing to do with my vision. The items on my daily to-do list are often unnecessary but extremely time-consuming. Some of them, of course, are important things.  But think about it for a moment: replacing kitchen lights does not seem to be as vital as, for example, spending two hours in a deep study of the Bible, attempting to grasp the meaning of the prophetic verses.  Minor tasks suppress our lives by their number.  They are like termites.  When you look at one of them, you hardly become concerned.  Yet when there are many of them, they simply gobble down your life, your time and your strength without leaving any crumbs behind.

Then, I no longer feel well.  Once again, I’ve failed to be a visionary.  I could not live a life filled with truly important and necessary tasks and attitudes.  Even those things that seemed important lose their meaning.  They become covered by the grey dust of the daily routine.  Of course, I do not want to live in this vanity.  This is why, from time to time, I perform a clean-up.  I promise myself that I will rearrange my priorities, strive upward and live a worthy life, focusing on the values of the Kingdom of God and not those of this world.

But this world is persistent.  It ambushes me on every corner, infusing its own values.  This begins right after I wake up.  Usually as I fall asleep, I am confident and determined to turn tomorrow into a declaration of loyalty to the vision and mission with which the Lord entrusted me.  In the morning, I notice that my first thoughts are about something else.  I want to sleep more and not have to get out of bed.  But here, at least somehow, I regain control of myself.  I go outside.  I observe and see that everything that surrounds me is driven by mere instinct.  People want to eat well, to live well, to be perceived as important and needed.  Commercials offer quick surrogates for happiness in the form of everything from hamburgers at McDonalds to opportunities to make a quick and a successful career on the basis of investing money in a prospering corporation.  But I don’t allow myself to become hooked on that; I pass by.

At the corps, I also encounter problems and questions which principally do not appear to be of global vitality.  People do not urge me to go forward and to teach everyone the only way to salvation.  The questions that arise are simple life questions with respect to corps programming and other minor nonsense hardly related to ministry.  Certainly there are times when God focuses my attention and helps me see what I need to see.  This does not take place every day, while other nonsense and vain routine gradually transition from a snowfall into an ominous blizzard, eventually becoming impassable snow banks.

On the way home, I determine to spend time only on the important matters from now on… I would play with my children, but my head is filled with tomorrow’s business.  My time with the children morphs into a casual ritual.  Even though this angers me, I do nothing to alter it.  The day ends.  I turn to God and repent that on this day I was not able to imitate Paul or Peter, David or Gideon, who answered “yes” to the call of God and changed the course of history.  I ask Him that tomorrow He would help me to start my day afresh.  But as you have probably guessed by now, tomorrow does not look any different from yesterday.

I know that I am not the only one.  I know that many people simply do not want to confess this similar experience.  Time passes on, days turn into weeks, months form and grow into years.  But we look with hope in the end of the tunnel, awaiting a different, renewed tomorrow to take us where we want to be.

I do not want to hypothesize about life, providing inputs on how to live in order to reach valuable results.  More than anything, I wish to fall asleep every night knowing that the day did not end in vain.  Whether good or bad, complete or unfinished, I want my efforts to be worth it.  I understand that I cannot walk away from minor responsibilities.  If I do not clean up my apartment simply because it is a vain task, soon my home will become a garbage bin.  If I do not look after my health, then my body will become a garbage bin.  In the end, life is made up of small tasks, some of which are vain.  The question lies in how we remain focused in the midst of the many minor tasks.  How do we remain focused when we often can’t see the goal?  The ultimate goal, which you know about only from others?

This happens to archaeologists and researchers who begin to dig into previously unexplored areas.  Often they must operate by trial and error.  But even the smallest step needs to be a step to the top.  Otherwise, the step is pointless.  Many expeditions stop because the explorers get lost.  Many ships do not reach the harbour because they wander off course. A significant number of people are left in disappointment at the end of their lives because they have not reached their goal.

Of course, a compass is a valuable tool.  It shows the direction.  It is possible, nevertheless, to have a compass but never look at it.  It is possible to become too preoccupied with other things and to forget to check your direction with the compass arrow.  It could be that you already know that you are not moving in the right direction, but continue to press on anyways in hope that that somehow the present way will get you back on track.

Unfortunately, nothing ever gets corrected by itself.  Even a slight change in direction in the beginning can lead one to a completely different destination or not lead anywhere at all.  It seems that it is not enough to simply know of the methods of correction, to have accurate maps and a compass, and be knowledgeable and proficient in their use.  We often know how to use different tools and instruments.  We know how to pray and read the Bible, how to think and draw conclusions.  We know what we need to solidify our relationship with God and to ensure our commitment to ministry.  But often this remains purely cognitive with no particular evidence of hands-on application.  We have skills which do not yield experience.

This is why it is important to be honest and to call things their proper names.  We need to see clearly in order to choose in our everyday lives that which is truly important, and to perform it accurately and responsibly.  Also, it is necessary to see the course; to know the goal and to allow yourself to dream.  To dream about how you accomplish the goal and how refreshing the accomplishment will be.  How minor those vain problems will appear when you’ve reached the top of the mountain — the same problems that created obstacles between you and the destination you wanted to reach.

It is not easy.  But it seems we do not have a choice.  Either we become tangled up in the daily vain routine, or we leave everything behind completely and die both spiritually and physically.

Writer:  Vadim is from a Russian circus family and came to The Salvation Army in 1995 as a university student to play in a heavy metal/worship band (”Third Cross”) in the southern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don. He stayed, became a believer, the leader of “Third Cross”, and joined the Army. He married his longtime girlfriend Inna in a Sunday morning service and eventually they entered training to become Salvation Army officers. They were ordained and commissioned in 2002. Vadim, Inna and their children are presently serving in their second appointment in “Velikiy Novgorod”. Vadim’s interests include music, sports and reading.

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