It was close to 100 degrees outside. The only greenery around was the occasional cactus plant hidden among the dull brown foliage of the Texas landscape. I had my feet firmly planted in a dried up creek bed surveying the rock piles that had to be moved from one location to another. I was only fourteen, but with the rains coming soon, at least we hoped they were, a dam was needed to create a new water supply. Rather than letting the water quickly fade away after a good rain, this makeshift line of rock, gravel, and dirt would form a boundary allowing us to better control the water’s direction and help preserve it during the heat of summer.
It was hard work. The kind of work that, at the end of the day, makes your legs wobble and causes you to wonder if you can make it up the steps to your house. This was the kind of work that made it possible to fall asleep before your head even hit the pillow. In the weeks and months to come after the project was finished, this new pool of water became a place to cool off during the heat. A quick dip during lunch breaks was almost as refreshing as the 15 minute nap before getting back to work. Amazingly, this new water reservoir actually began to change the landscape. The plants and trees surrounding it no longer ached of a dull brown, but began to exude the signs of green life. The thing is, none of it would have been possible if the work of building the boundary had not been done.
Building boundaries is hard work. Learning to be a community that lives healthily within our limits takes energy, time, discernment, and a whole lot of practice. In his book, “Bringing It To The Table,” Wendell Berry reflects on the idea of limits and limitlessness: “We had entered,” he writes, “an era of limitlessness, or the illusion thereof, and this in itself is a sort of wonder. My grandfather lived a life of limits, both suffered and strictly observed, in a world of limits. I learned much of that world from him and others. I changed; I entered the world of labor-saving machines and of limitless cheap fossil fuel. It would take me years of reading, thought, and experience to learn again that in this world limits are not only inescapable but indispensable.”
The need for boundaries is inescapable and indispensable. We may ignore that need for a time, but like the aquifer that has watered one too many lawns, our limited capacity, resources, and emotional, physical, and mental energy will eventually run dry. We find ourselves exhausted and spent with little left to give to the things that truly matter. I’m here to tell you that God is not glorified in our boundaryless exhaustion.
In a recent survey conducted at Wheatland Salem Church, over 200 respondents from our community identified the top three issues they are currently facing:
1. We are too busy and overwhelmed;
2. We have trouble navigating relationships;
3. We have difficulty parenting children or dealing with elderly parents.
(A close and therefore honorary third was ‘We have a fear of the future’).
Yet, just 10% of those respondents identified that they have an issue with boundaries. Repeat after me: “Houston, we have a problem.” Many of us are living our lives as if we are limitless. If you were to pause and checked the level of your “water gauge”, where would it be?
The scriptures reveal that Jesus came to give us an abundant life (John 10:10). As images of God, we were made to reflect and live out His deep, abiding, full life made possible in Christ. One of the ways we protect, foster, and sustain that abundant life is through boundaries. Boundaries improve the health, joy and freedom of and in our lives. Like building that dam in my youth, we create boundaries to foster and protect those reservoirs which not only sustains and refreshes us, but enables the stuff of life to take hold and sprout.
This Sunday, Wheatland continues our series called, “Boundaries: Living with Limits.” We invite you to explore, learn, and practice what it means to be a people with boundaries with us--a people who live the abundant life.
Pastor Corey Ashley