Convergence
Trusting the Grand Design
As I wrote about synchrony for my first issue of Mystery’s Voice, and my very first podcast, I was also struck with the realization of many parts of my life having come together as the perfect place from which to begin the journey of Mystery’s Voice. The timing was beautifully seamless, but the starting point was the result of a convergence of disparate, and some ugly, strands of my life. In this issue of Mystery’s Voice, I ponder convergence and the beauty of trusting the grand design at work.
My Mysterious Mind
In recent years many parts of my life have been unraveled. Five years ago, I lost my mother, and, two months later, was in a terrible accident. I remember sitting in the median of the highway, overwhelmed by grief and trauma. Unharmed physically, I was irreversibly altered in ways no one could see. A few months later my youngest child, as a young adult, moved half-a-continent-away. My nest was not only empty; the entire state around my nest was empty. Early in 2019, my husband and I found, and purchased, our fourth child, affectionately known as Mystery Acres. These 17-and-a-half acres would become a place of refuge and something to “parent” with my also empty-nested husband.
In 2020, the pandemic brought trauma to all of us. I didn’t lose anyone I loved; I lost my professional identity. The doctoral program of which I had been a part began to close in 2020. As each piece ended, a section of my professional identity also ended. It felt like dying from a long, terminal illness. Thankfully I had tenure and couldn’t be fired from my faculty position. But the expertise I had honed for more than twenty years was no longer valued. During my active parenting years, I had said, “my job is my hobby; my kids are my life.” Having successfully raised my children to be self-sufficient adults, my kids were no longer my life. The collapse of my professional role brought the death of my cherished hobby.
The pandemic, the empty nest, and the loss of “place” at work, pushed me into the forest. These three painful strands of my life converged into a new hobby. I learned about wildflowers. I conferred with experts across the country about shaped trees. I studied historical archives for information about the native occupants. My scientific consultants included experts knowledgeable about prehistoric stone tools, geologists who studied round rocks shaped by an ancient meteorite, and archeologists familiar with the Osage Nation. My husband had wanted Mystery Acres as a place to enjoy fireworks; I had found a multidisciplinary science project!
In May of 2022, I started writing on Substack, reconnecting with a thirty-year neglected dream of being an inspirational writer. After 17-and-a-half months of writing The Adventure of Reflection, the strands of my life converged in a new way. What I learned about myself and writing from those 17-and-a-half months would combine with what I learned from 17-and-a-half acres of forest. That convergence is Mystery’s Voice.
Message from Mystery Acres
There’s something special about those unspoiled acres of forest in rural Missouri. Maybe it’s the limited number of permanent residents across several hundred acres. It might be the presence of shaped trees, formed as messengers from native people who left almost two hundred years ago. Perhaps the weird, round rocks growing from an ancient meteorite strike are the source. The simplicity of nature doing what nature does, uninterrupted by man’s improvements, might be the foundation of what makes Mystery Acres extraordinary. There are mushrooms, wildflowers, butterflies, and grasses thriving without interference. Possibly the opening in the forest canopy for viewing the boundless array of stars is the source of wonder, untainted by “light pollution” of humans who refuse to rest when darkness falls.
These “parts” of Mystery Acres are amazing individually; combined these pieces elevate this place to a higher level. I am reminded of the German word “gestalt,” used to express how “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” As the wonders of geology, botany, and anthropology converge, a greater something emerges. I cherish the small details; I marvel at the combination of them!
At Mystery Acres, the whole of the parts is so much more than the parts themselves. The gestalt of the forest – not just the trees, or rocks, or flowers, or butterflies, or stars, or …. All of it TOGETHER. Nothing in excess. Nothing unimportant. All essential for the beauty and wonder of the whole. The myriad pieces converge to form a profoundly special place.
The message from Mystery Acres calls for us to ponder convergence, and trusting how disparate pieces can combine into something incredible. Multiple “cords” come together, converging at this point to create a “new” thing, a stronger, more beautiful strand. Or, pictured another way, the varied colors of the strands are woven together into a stunning tapestry.
Ancient Mystery’s Voice
“Everything works together for good.” (See Romans 8:28)
Five popular words from a letter written two thousand years ago by a man named Paul give hope for the convergence of the broken, difficult, and ugly parts of our lives. Paul asserted that all of life’s materials would come together to make something good. Sounds like Ancient Mystery’s Voice is talking about convergence!
The context for the passage includes some important details for explaining what Paul meant. He was writing for those who were believers in Jesus Christ and were called for a life of following Him. Specifically, Paul wrote that all things work together for good for those who “love the Lord” and are living according to “His purpose” for them. Thus, the “good” of which Paul wrote, isn’t a random good of chaotic pieces somehow converging to make something wonderful. Rather, Paul asserted an organizing force behind the convergence, something that pulls the disparate parts together, forming something of value.
Certainly, for followers of Jesus, these words call for hope, even in the fractured seasons of our lives. Convergence of “all things” involves trusting there is a larger purpose, a grand design into which the various pieces contribute.
Purpose in life is a powerful organizer. No matter the strange path or detour each day seems to take, purpose can provide a sense of direction and meaning. Wondering around in life, picking up random experiences, is one way to pass the time, however, having a destination brings order to the gathering. For each day, a purpose-focused question prompts: “How might I use this for where I’m going?”
In the aftermath of my professional world fracturing, I have rediscovered the dream of writing to inspire others. I can bring together the broken and wounded pieces by saying, “How might I use this to help others?” Ever a packrat, I don’t want to see anything go to waste!
Living in Mystery
Living in convergence, trusting the grand design for the pieces of our lives, is a wonderful way to live. Sometimes, however, finding convergence isn’t successful in a given day. A frayed strand doesn’t always seem to work in a beautiful weave of today. It feels ugly and wrong. How can it converge into a beautiful tapestry? Trusting convergence is different than experiencing it. Most days, the strands feel misaligned, wrong even. Trusting the master weaver means believing the beauty or the good when we cannot see it.
I feel convergence about writing Mystery’s Voice. But the many days to this day of writing were days of obedient weaving without being able to see what was being put together in the bigger picture. Parts of today are like that. A scratchy dark thread came into my world recently. It’s painful to work with it. I don’t want it in my tapestry. I want to replace it with a nicer, smoother one. But I cannot. I suppose it’s better to have the ugly, coarse strand than to have a hole.
Will saying “thanks” help? It might. Thanks for the good I cannot see. Thanks for the roughness in my hands and heart – the pain that awakens my joy elsewhere. The velvety strands feel more wonderful in my hands because of the rough and painful ones. Working the hard strands develops my character and resilience. This expertise can help others with their tough weaving.
One of the most painful moments in the demise of my professional world was a consultation with someone about a possible new role. During that conversation he said I would have to “unlearn” much of what I had already learned. After I got off the call I was sobbing so hard I could hardly speak. I had more than a quarter-century of expertise, had all of that become trash now? It was hard enough to lose my role, did I have to discard or overwrite my expertise, too?
No. I don’t believe my expertise is wasted. I don’t believe I need to “unlearn” anything. I am learning new things. I am using what I already know in fresh ways, recycling the old parts of me into something new. Today the parts of who I have been converge into the who I am right now. The whole of me is more than the sum of those past parts. Nothing is wasted. All the scraps are being used. Furthermore, the scraps of my life, patched together, can make a quilt used to comfort others.
The same is true of you. All of you is being woven into who you are right now. Nothing is wasted. There is nothing to “unlearn” or remove from the palette of you. The Master Designer uses all of it. All that you’ve been converges into who you are right now. All that I’ve been converges into who I am now.
Neither of us has to change who we’ve been but, rather, change how we use those pieces. We are each a tapestry of many colors and types of material. We are each a quilt, woven out of the scraps of who we’ve been thus far. We are each a cord made stronger by the twisting together of the converging strands of who we’ve been.
Who I’ve been is built into who I am. It’s really all I have. I don’t want to delete anything. Rewrite a little here and there maybe. Use the ugly pieces to build something beautiful – like Kinsugi pottery, those dishes glued together with gold. These once worthless ceramic dishes are restored, with gleaming lines of gold as part of their beauty. At Mystery Acres, my husband and I put together a “feature wall” using old barn wood. Sections of wood from a deteriorating barn, so unstable as to be unusable, has new life in our beloved cabin. I supposed I should call it the “convergence wall.”
Connecting with Mystery
Dear Lord of All Mystery, there are fragments of my life that feel disconnected and without purpose. Separately, and without Your grand design, I cannot see the value of these broken and ugly pieces of who I have been. Help me to understand the mystery of Your power of convergence. Help me to trust the beautiful tapestry You are weaving from the coarse and the lovely strands of my life. Thank You for the wonder and power of convergence in Your plan for me. Amen.
Notes from Dr. Mac
If you want to do your own investigation of any of the scriptures I use, I suggest you go to Bible Gateway. This free online version of the Bible allows a search of words or phrases in a variety of translations.
You can find previous posts of The Adventure of Reflection in my Substack ARCHIVE. You can find the first 64 issues in an organized compilation called Reflective Adventures: Volume One in My “Books” in Substack.
And you are always welcome to email me. I love to hear from you!
