The story...
An unexpected life victory occurred during my 64th year of life. I traveled on my motorcycle to a location where my family annually vacationed together. In the past, visits like this, would trigger fond memories that I longed and even ached over. Camping sites, trails, kids doing similar things, and the scene of that one time long ago. Often, the longing would be linked with a deep feeling of loss - something that I couldn't return to no matter what. Yet, on this particular visit, I more fully enjoyed the present. I didn't forget the past memories but I didn't camp with them either - they seemed to help color the present more vibrantly.
You might be speculating as to whether the loss of those "good ole day" strong feelings is either good or bad. Yet, if we spent enough time actually understanding each other, I expect we'd agree that living more fully in our present reality is the better way.
Netflix created a beautiful limited TV series called "The Queen's Gambit." In one scene, Beth says: "I feel safe in an entire world with just 64 squares." She developed an obsessive compulsion that helped her cope with reoccurring childhood memories.
I hope that people who attend the only church in town, will be compelled, and feel safe enough, to relax their coping skills. In a more rested and peaceful state, they may resist those compelling habits, and open their eyes more fully as to what's really going on. They might risk putting their chessboard, with it's 64 spaces, back in the box. Maybe their soul, mind, and spirt will compel them to pack up their campsite and begin walking again on their life journey. What a wonderful thing to walk alongside a person who's living life more fully in the present - where God and life are.
Just for today...
"As a child I lived in a fantasy world where to think it so would make it so. Combined with my need for perfectionism and self-control, I believed I could think myself out of reacting emotionally to people and situations. I carried these misperceptions into adulthood. In my denial, I thought I could make myself not feel anything. I had practiced being tough for a long time." Hope for Today (p. 223)