Where’s Your Lonely Place?

by Jimmy McAfee | May 29, 2023 | Uncategorized

When I was a kid, you could buy 40-sheet spiral notebooks on sale for a ridiculous price, like 10 for $1. We always had a stack lying around the house, mostly intended for school use.

I was never a fan. The spiral rings got bent, preventing the pages from turning smoothly. If you tore out a page, there was a strand of perforated leftovers trapped inside the ring. For each page, you had to extract it and walk to the trash can to throw it away. If you waited for several sheets before removing each strand, they got all smashed up in there and ripped into tiny pieces when you tried to carefully remove them.

Even the detached page had all these weird jagged fingers where it had been torn. They seemed to mock my preference for the smooth crisp edges of loose-leaf notebook paper.

They were not for me – except during the summertime.

Free of the shackles of school, my days were my own to roam about. One of my pastimes was to crank the handle of our Boston pencil sharpener as it cut a perfect point on my wooden pencil before opening the cover of one of our spiral notebooks.

It was time to draw, and all I needed was a subject.

Neither my brother, Preston, nor the family dog, Tippy, were good models. They had too many complicated parts and never sat still. Sometimes I tried to draw the furniture in one of our rooms, but that required lots of straight lines and I was never very good at those. My lines were wiggly and curved at the end.

Thus began the process of wandering aimlessly about the house in search of inspiration. I would look at something, then look down at my tablet and imagine what it would look like on the empty page. Nah. Unsatisfied, I carried my hunt to the next possibility. There never seemed to be anything fun to draw.

After minutes of excruciating search, I would lose interest in drawing and move onto something different. Throughout all of my summer vacations I am not sure I ever touched the pencil to the paper more than a handful of times.

I’m not much of a artist.

During the past eighteen months, I’ve written maybe half a dozen blogs. That is infrequent compared to the almost weekly basis before that.

Recently, I’ve had an urge to get back in there and work at it. On several different days I picked up my laptop and sat in my most comfortable chair, ready to write something.

It was time to write and the only thing left was finding a subject. My mind would drift through the things going on in my life. Most of my ideas didn’t seem to be quite right. Occasionally I would just pick something and dive in, but after a few paragraphs I would pause to read my progress. It had as much life as a glass of Coke that had been left on the counter overnight. I deleted everything and went back to my home screen.

Eventually, my laptop began to stare blankly back at me in exactly the same way my spiral notebook had done decades ago. Just like before, I put it down and went to find something more fun to do.

Usually that “something more fun” was in the garage.

I’ve been approaching my writing much the same as I did drawing. If I couldn’t find a just-add-water subject, then I haven’t taken the time in quiet contemplation to figure out why. After all, I’ve been busy.

In the time since my writing paused, I have built countless items for people. I have zero regrets. No matter how difficult any project has been, it remains my firm belief that God was using it as part of a greater plan.

Convinced that it has been my calling, I have thrown myself completely into it. No amount of effort, organization, money, imagination, or pain could keep me away.

After losing the last joint of my index finger in a table saw accident, I literally began working one-handed as soon as I could stop taking prescription pain meds (less than a week). At night, I have dreamt about intricacies of whatever I was working on. I have set up web sites, bank accounts, a fully-stocked woodshop, an in-house store, and so many other things in a brief time that most people would find it difficult to believe.

I have spent almost two years living out Colossians 3:23, and I have loved it.

 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord“

But if I was working with all my heart, how come my heart keeps getting called back to writing? Why do I keep returning to my laptop and staring at an empty screen? Can’t I be fulfilled by a divine calling? How come I have to have more?

I think the answer lies in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 5. Jesus’ ministry was just taking off. He had recruited his own team, found his voice as a teacher, and begun a healing ministry that had the entire countryside abuzz. Crowds of people were coming to him and then following him from place to place. He was watching the Kingdom of God come to a chosen people.

He must have been excited beyond words. At night, maybe he dreamt about his next message or about the next person he would heal. I bet he jumped out of his bed each morning ready to continue his ministry.

However, the verse 16 seems like a contradiction to his energy and momentum. After 30 years, things were finally starting to pop. So what did he do?

But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.

Luke almost sounds surprised by the response. The word “but” implies that Luke thought withdrawing to lonely places was a contradiction to his ministry, like it was slowing him down.

My guess is that Luke expected to write something more like. “Jesus often got up thirty minutes early to read scriptures and pray.”

Do you know how long Jesus must have been absent for Luke to say that he withdrew to a lonely place? In the next chapter he tells us about one example when Jesus was gone all night.

I believe that I know what Jesus prayed about all night. After all, Hebrews 4:15 says that he was “tempted in every way, just as we are.” If he was facing the same difficulties as we do, then we can probably guess what was on his mind. What would trouble you as your ministry took off?

He was challenging himself, ensuring that humility and love triumphed over pride and preference. He discussed with the Father where he should go and what he should talk to the crowds about. He studied his own heart to see if any cracks were developing between him and God. And he listened.

Jesus probably wrote some of his most famous parables in those lonely places. He poured over and over the words, making sure they captured eternal truth without including unnecessary additions. You can imagine him trying to work out the details of the different kinds of seed (Matthew 13). If he struggled with the same things as us, then he must have struggled to get each parable perfect.

At some point, he had to practice saying the parable out loud to ensure he wouldn’t leave parts out, but also validating that the truth rang out.

Those are the same things I do when writing my blogs. They are my prayer of sorts that I share with the world.

Even though I spend time in scripture and prayer each day, my heart has missed the hours at a time I spend writing. My short prayers every day occasionally fall short of their potential. They aren’t wrong, but they are incomplete. God had a lot more for us to work through than could be done before the end of my cup of coffee.

Caught up in my ministry of actvity, I had begun to slot God into a few, prime timeslots instead of occasionally offering him my whole day. The tugging at my heart to start writing has been his way of saying that we need more time together.

It is hard to surrender my time to God, since he won’t tell me how much he wants first. When I do, it is frustrating to spend an hour pouring out what is on my mind only to hear him whisper that it needs more work.

Each time I write something down, it is like turning to God to say “Did I get it right this time?” and he frequently says “Nope. Not yet. Keep trying.”

In the case of this blog, it took three times before he smiled and I could feel his peace.

Lately, I haven’t been withdrawing to lonely places very often. My head said that I was doing the Lord’s work. My heart has been suggesting something different. It is time to start listening to my heart again and spend more time Making Waves.

It is hard to find balance in it all. It is easy to run to one side and spend all my time “working with all my heart”. It is also easy to run all the way to the other side and move into a lonely place with him where I can’t fulfill my divine purpose.

Perhaps the answer will come one day at a time rather than following a formula.

The urge will unexpectedly stir to sit down in a quiet place and process what He is trying to put on my heart. I need to drop everything when that happens. At other times, someone will reach out and ask for help building something special. Then it is time to go to work.

This blog has given me joy as I enjoyed the hours away from the fray, listening and contemplating.

I hope you find and enjoy your lonely place also.

Does Malcolm Even Matter?

by Jimmy McAfee | May 22, 2023 | Uncategorized

It seemed that a global conspiracy had been put into place, keeping Kim and I from taking our first international vacation. We had canceled our plans for three years in a row – first for a pandemic, then a military invasion, followed by slow tourism reopenings. We had originally planned a trip to Ireland, but the events of the past three years convinced us to head slightly further north to Scotland.

Our interest in exploring our roots was increased after assembling the story of my grandfather, James McAfee. Understanding more about his life brought clarity to events that shaped my father and me. I became aware of seemingly small things from our past that guided our worldview. Armed with that knowledge, we journeyed into our family’s distant past to see who else we could meet.

The McAfees are part of an ancient clan, tracing its roots back to Alpin, the first king of Scotland in the 9th century A.D. We were a small clan never exceeding 400 people, but present through events that shaped Scotland across the centuries.

The MacFies (the official spelling) battled for freedom with William Wallace in 1297 A.D. at the Battle of Stirling, again with Robert the Bruce when he defeated the English in 1324 A.D. at the Battle of Bannockburn, and in 1745 A.D. when the Scots tragically lost the bloody Battle of Culloden, signalling an end to much of clan life.

For years I have heard the stories of my proud forefathers defending themselves, risking everything to defend their way of life. However I was not prepared for the impact it would have on me walking the lonely roads of the small, rural island where our story began.

Colonsay is a stunningly beautiful island off the western coast of Scotland. I stood in amazement on the shores of Kiloran Bay, with the sounds of crashing waves drowning out all thoughts except for the magnificence of our Creator’s hand.

The 20-acre gardens at Colonsay House feature soft paths through ancient trees and brilliant flowers that seem to transend time itself.

You can clearly imagine watching people as they erected the Standing Stones thousands of years ago. Our views of hills and valleys are the same as the first eyes saw some 8,000 years ago.

James and I searched for hours for A’ Clach Thogalaich, the lifting stone. It weights 280 lbs and has offered generations of young men the chance to prove they are coming of age by lifting it off the ground. Lacking any good place to grip and awkwardly off-balance, it is deceptively difficult. No matter how I strained and pulled, it remained stubbornly stuck to the earth. Conversely, after a few adjustments and a brief struggle, James successfully lifted it and took his place in a long line of victorious warriors.

The MacFie population on the island peaked at 387 in 1881 A.D. but is currently just over one hundred people. Although that equates to 128 acres per person, neighbors there know each other. The joy people share together is demonstrated by its designation as the smallest island in the world with both a functioning brewery and distillery.

I was unprepared for the feeling of heartbreak after we walked a gravel path to MacFie Stone, the site of one of the darkest days in our family’s history. In that place Malcolm MacFie, the last clan chief, was murdered in 1623 A.D. – executed as he stood against the large standing stone. A mournful spirit hovers in that place, where for a moment humanity failed.

As much as we felt at home there, Kim and I agreed that few people would consider it an ideal vacation spot. Winter days are cold, dark and rainy. Summer days are cool and rainy. There are few modern conveniences and the ferry that provides transport has a schedule that is irregular and can be unpredictable.

Nonetheless my heart had an unexpected connection to that distant place. I am a MacFie, born out of the Highlands of Scotland. My life is part of a chain that extends across millenia.

Compared to the enduring beauty of Colonsay, my life seems very short.

In ways, it feels that my part of the story is very small. I am not only the 10th generation in the United States, but something like a 50th generation MacFie. Another 300 generations have passed since the first residents lived on “our” island. All but a handful of those have faded from memory, their names erased by the sands of time. One after another they rose up and took their place guiding the world before passing the torch on. Am I more than another life soon forgotten?

Is our time on this earth as fleeting and insignificant as Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes? He bemoaned the pointlessness of it all, the repetition of the earth despite our efforts. Even with all his wealth and wisdom, his temple is gone, his kingdom broken, his enormous wealth dispersed. Was it all “chasing the wind?”

If he struggled to find meaning in it all, how can we?

This week, I was introduced to Malcolm MacFie. He has been dead for 400 years, but his memory lives on and his story offers encouragement.

Most of us studied English Imperialism in high school. Since the U.S. threw off the shackles in the 1700s, it offers us little more than a footnote in history. However, Scotland fought for their recognition as an independent country for centuries (and had a popular vote concerning withdrawal from the United Kingdom as recently as 2014).

Malcolm became a clan chief during the reign of King James 1. In order to increase his control over the country, King James dissolved the Lordship of the Isles, the body that governed the islands around Colonsay. The MacDonald clan had previously controlled that governing body and formed a rebellion, led by James MacDonald who recruited Malcolm and several clan members. The rebellion was not successful and James MacDonald was imprisoned in Edinburgh castle.

James subsequently escaped and fled back to the islands, where Malcolm assisted him in some capacity. Malcolm was arrested for his role then tried and released when he agreed to offer his support in a specific campaign. However while he was gone, a group of mercenaries moved onto Colonsay.

These mercenaries feuded with Malcolm upon his return, who managed to avoid entangling the clan in a war by hiding whenever an attack came. While he must have been tempted to simply move away for a time, the law of that day required a clan chief to oversee the people or else they would forfeit their lands.

Eventually the mercenaries captured Malcolm and carried him to a hilltop on Colonsay where they tied him to a standing stone and executed him. The clan forfeited their lands and were required to disperse, many leaving the island they had known as home for 800 years. The MacFies became a “broken clan” until the 1980s when they were officially re-established.

Was Malcolm a failure? Is he even relevant today?

Malcolm may have died and his clan may have been disbanded, but the MacFies did not fade away, nor did the freedom he sought perish. Forced from Colonsay, we continued to pursue Malcolm’s values.

James McAfee emigrated to America in 1739 and helped to establish history’s largest democracy.

Robert Andrew MacFie was born in 1811 and became a successful businessman in Ediburgh before using his wealth to get elected to English Parliament to reform the very institution Malcolm had fought against.

Malcolm may have lost control as a clan chief, but his pursuit of freedom opened the door for exponential growth. MacFies, McAfees, McPhees, and others with variant spellings are now beyond counting.

Perhaps our value in this world doesn’t lie in our accomplishments or failures. The work of our hands may crumble and decay while our seeming failures yield enduring results. More importantly, the light that we shine continues to persevere.

I believe that in time I will pass from this earth and my name will be forgotten. However every day that I am alive I will seek justice, show mercy, and walk humbly. God can use my faith to build a better tomorrow. He can allow my unwavering hope to influence future generations.

It doesn’t matter to me that the lifting stone remained stubbornly still when I strained against it. My victory is that the next James McAfee lifted it. My legacy will be that others believe bigger things are possible through Christ.

Was Malcolm’s life a success? Was he responsible for the collapse of a clan, or the emergence of something bigger? The answer lies in your hope for the future.

Where does your hope lie?