Today's thoughts come a little late (I may have been half-marathoning season nine of Doctor Who yesterday), a little uncertain, and very much targeted at myself.
Confession time: I don't like being up in front of people. Offer me a stage, and I will more than likely turn it down for work in the sound booth. Suggest me for a leadership role, and I will gracefully decline for a support role. As long as there is someone else who is equally or better suited for the task, I gladly deffer to him or her. These are the confessions of a performer, teacher, orator, actor, and occasional leader.
I don't ever feel like I need to be the center of attention, or that I am the person best equipped to be in charge. In fact, I take a great deal of joy in doing my best work to help others accomplish their goals, dreams, and visions.
But I grew up on the stage. My Mother had me performing for audiences from a young age. With practice I improved in my ability to appear calm and move on with the show. So I can sing, I can act, and I can deliver a rousing speech (especially if someone else has written a rousing speech for me to deliver). Even still, if I think that I don't really need to be up there, then I usually won't be.
The same philosophy applies to interactions with crowds. I don't want to be the center of attention, and so I contentedly stick to the fringes where I can see and hear and enjoy the crowd without imposing my consciousness upon it.
With this in mind it will probably come as no surprise that I, for most of my life have ascribed to the evangelical camp of, 'I am going to live my Christian life without foisting religious conversation on the people around me.' The statement is something like this, and I've heard it maybe a hundred times with slight variations, "I just want to let people see my faith by how I live." That was me. Even when in high school I could look around and see that there was something I understood, something I had that others needed, I was too shy, too scared, and uncertain where or how to begin to share my faith...so I didn't. I just lived it...I think.
Before I step up onto a soapbox (the same one I will be using to beat myself over the head for quiet some time, no doubt) let me make one thing clear. As followers of Christ, the world ought to be able to see our faith in our actions. If they are watching, they should be able to notice and sense a difference in us; especially in regards to our hope, peace, humility, confidence, repentance, and forgiveness. They kind of expect us to be "holy" and "righteous", but what they really notice is when we follow through with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We absolutely ought to be living out our faith. James makes it clear that faith that doesn't produce action is dead. And certainly, there are numerous stories of people coming to Christ because they noticed how someone lived their faith.
An active faith is essential. But speaking is an action too.
Again, I am saying these things to myself first, because I'm still trying to figure this out and work past my own fears. But that's just it. So many of us use this excuse of solely living out our faith without verbally sharing it not because that is what we have been called by God to do, but because we are afraid to do otherwise. It is fear that motivates our silence, not faith.
But let me back up. Though I began with much this same evangelistic strategy, I have noticed more and more the prevalence of the same method among Christians in my life, and with each encounter I have become increasingly troubled by it. Especially as I have moved into leadership roles where I worked with youth much like my younger self. For years now these statements of living a silent gospel have grated at my heart, causing me to be simultaneously frustrated with these young people and angry with myself for living the same way. This weekend part of this issue finally clicked.
I was listening to a radio program where a group of young Christians were talking about various things in life. Suddenly one of the young ladies used the phrase, "I feel like more people are going to notice me just for being different." My mental response--and again, this is me talking to myself, not necessarily this young lady--was, "what makes you think so many people are interested in how you live your life? Why do you think everyone is watching you?"
The answer probably stems back to standard paranoia. They are always watching...
But seriously, what is it about this bloggy, vloggy, twitter infested, facebook wallpapered culture that makes us think that so many people are so closely scrutinizing our lives that we don't have to be overt about what really matters?
I'm not saying it is time to go out and do some Bible bashing among the heathen. James tells us to be quick to listen and slow to speak. But God doesn't tell us to be silent about his good news. There should be balance in everything. We must live love, but we must also speak truth. The two are not mutually exclusive. They both originate from God. They are two parts of the same thing, and we see them beautifully unified in the life of Jesus.
We have the most wonderful news in all the world. Why do I find it so hard to talk about? I'm still trying to figure out how to have those conversations. I pray that God would give me the wisdom to know how and when, the boldness to step out, and the love for others that would drive me to break through my fears and to speak in faith.
Monday, September 19, 2016
Sunday, September 11, 2016
The Voice of God
Children can be humorous creatures. They can also be treacherous, back-stabbing, tattle-tales. Just the other day in one of my younger classes there was a moment during instruction when one of my delightful, little students decided to make a sudden, though brief, outburst. The incident was not surprising. However, the response of the other students did catch my attention. One of the students in particular felt the need to immediately point at the offender either to assist in the investigation or to avoid any accusations in his direction. I gently informed my finger flinging friend that it wasn't his job to point fingers, and that I have very good hearing and knew exactly who had created the sudden din. Then I turned to the entire class and--so as to inspire a healthy, though not dangerous, fear--said, "as a music teacher I have very good hearing."
As if other teachers aren't scary enough with eyes in the backs of their heads, music teachers are even more terrifying. When standing with their back to the class, they can not only tell when something is afoot, they can also tell who is involved, what they are planning, whether or not they have a cold, what pitch they are speaking, and how much milk they had on their cereal for breakfast. Yes, there is a difference between cold-voice and dairy-voice. Fear the ears.
Of course I understand that there are a great many people beyond music teachers who have impressive hearing abilities. It is incredible the way God made our aural systems to differentiate and identify sounds. How many of you even need caller ID when a friend or family member calls? I mean to identify them, not screen them. That's another issue entirely that you should probably stop avoiding.
Our ears can enjoy our favorite songs. They can pick voices out of a crowd. They can differentiate frequencies. They can detect a vibrating phone in luggage on the third night of camp when campers were supposed to turn in their phones on the first day. (It was his mom calling. Parents, we call that enabling. Unless you're doing it to get them caught. In that case we call it team work!)
Even with all the voices my brain has heard and catalogued over the years it is still capable of differentiating and identifying a crazy number of voices. (Now if I could just remember their names.) But one area in which my ears don't seem to be much help is identifying the voice of God.
When Jesus was describing his relationship to his disciples in the Gospel of John (chapter 10) he said that he was the good shepherd and they were the sheep. Once you get past the sting of realizing just how stupid sheep are, you realize that the comparison is rather fitting. The good shepherd looks after and takes care of the sheep even when things get dangerous; even when the sheep wander off into foolish situations...again...for the hundredth time. The good shepherd is always there, and will always fight for the good of his sheep. More than that, Jesus tells us that the good shepherd knows each of the sheep by name (why shepherds were naming each of their sheep back then, I don't know), and that the sheep know his voice.
My understanding is that in those days it was not uncommon for shepherds to use a community sheep pen at night so that the sheep wouldn't wander off and the shepherds could help each other keep watch and protect the sheep. Just imagine what it would be like in the morning to have to sort out the various flocks. I would think it could take all morning if it weren't for the ability of sheep to identify their shepherd's voice. Every morning the shepherd would call, and his sheep would hear and follow him to green pastures and calm waters. "When he has brought out all his own," Jesus says, "he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice."
What a beautiful picture! There is only one problem. As finely tuned as my ears are, I have never heard the physical voice of God. It's all fine and dandy for the sheep to hear a shepherd, but how are we supposed to hear and know the voice of God? The question was recently put to me in these terms, "How are we supposed to differentiate the voice of God from the voice of the world around us?" This is a crucial question, because Jesus goes on to explain that there are other players at work than just the shepherd and the sheep. There is a thief. He comes with one trifold purpose: steal, kill, and destroy. If we aren't listening to the good shepherd, then we are following the thief. So how can we tell the difference?
The entire situation can become paralyzingly frightening, but don't fear. It is not as impossible as the enemy wants us to think. Jesus has already assured us that the sheep know his voice, and the shepherd knows the sheep. God knows each and every one of us intimately. He knows how best to communicate with each of us. To make things even more clear, He has given us His own words in the scriptures, the Bible. If you're not sure which voice is His, then read what He has written. His voice and his heart fill the text. With all the voices vying for our attention in this world it can be easy to tune out God's voice. So what if we spent more time reading the Bible than we do reading the news (or facebook, twitter, reddit, pinterest, etc.)?
But why stop there. God is not an impersonal god who can only be heard through written text. Like the bleating sheep who is lost and trapped, we can call out to God, and he hears us. The best way I have discovered to get to know someone's voice is by spending time with them and talking with them. God tells us time and again to come to Him with anything and everything that weighs on our hearts and minds. Bring Him your cares and concerns, and bring Him your joys and thanksgiving. Then, as in any conversation, we need to quiet ourselves and listen. I don't know about you, but that can be the hardest part for me. I still want to do it, because I want to be sure I hear Him when He has something to say.
We may not be able to hear God with our ears, but we can rest assured knowing that we do not worship a silent God. Our God is not a mute idol or a cold text. Ours is the God who spoke creation into existence. His words formed the mountains, the oceans, and the stars. And He is still speaking today. He is the good shepherd, and the sheep know His voice, and follow Him.
As if other teachers aren't scary enough with eyes in the backs of their heads, music teachers are even more terrifying. When standing with their back to the class, they can not only tell when something is afoot, they can also tell who is involved, what they are planning, whether or not they have a cold, what pitch they are speaking, and how much milk they had on their cereal for breakfast. Yes, there is a difference between cold-voice and dairy-voice. Fear the ears.
Of course I understand that there are a great many people beyond music teachers who have impressive hearing abilities. It is incredible the way God made our aural systems to differentiate and identify sounds. How many of you even need caller ID when a friend or family member calls? I mean to identify them, not screen them. That's another issue entirely that you should probably stop avoiding.
Our ears can enjoy our favorite songs. They can pick voices out of a crowd. They can differentiate frequencies. They can detect a vibrating phone in luggage on the third night of camp when campers were supposed to turn in their phones on the first day. (It was his mom calling. Parents, we call that enabling. Unless you're doing it to get them caught. In that case we call it team work!)
Even with all the voices my brain has heard and catalogued over the years it is still capable of differentiating and identifying a crazy number of voices. (Now if I could just remember their names.) But one area in which my ears don't seem to be much help is identifying the voice of God.
When Jesus was describing his relationship to his disciples in the Gospel of John (chapter 10) he said that he was the good shepherd and they were the sheep. Once you get past the sting of realizing just how stupid sheep are, you realize that the comparison is rather fitting. The good shepherd looks after and takes care of the sheep even when things get dangerous; even when the sheep wander off into foolish situations...again...for the hundredth time. The good shepherd is always there, and will always fight for the good of his sheep. More than that, Jesus tells us that the good shepherd knows each of the sheep by name (why shepherds were naming each of their sheep back then, I don't know), and that the sheep know his voice.
My understanding is that in those days it was not uncommon for shepherds to use a community sheep pen at night so that the sheep wouldn't wander off and the shepherds could help each other keep watch and protect the sheep. Just imagine what it would be like in the morning to have to sort out the various flocks. I would think it could take all morning if it weren't for the ability of sheep to identify their shepherd's voice. Every morning the shepherd would call, and his sheep would hear and follow him to green pastures and calm waters. "When he has brought out all his own," Jesus says, "he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice."
What a beautiful picture! There is only one problem. As finely tuned as my ears are, I have never heard the physical voice of God. It's all fine and dandy for the sheep to hear a shepherd, but how are we supposed to hear and know the voice of God? The question was recently put to me in these terms, "How are we supposed to differentiate the voice of God from the voice of the world around us?" This is a crucial question, because Jesus goes on to explain that there are other players at work than just the shepherd and the sheep. There is a thief. He comes with one trifold purpose: steal, kill, and destroy. If we aren't listening to the good shepherd, then we are following the thief. So how can we tell the difference?
The entire situation can become paralyzingly frightening, but don't fear. It is not as impossible as the enemy wants us to think. Jesus has already assured us that the sheep know his voice, and the shepherd knows the sheep. God knows each and every one of us intimately. He knows how best to communicate with each of us. To make things even more clear, He has given us His own words in the scriptures, the Bible. If you're not sure which voice is His, then read what He has written. His voice and his heart fill the text. With all the voices vying for our attention in this world it can be easy to tune out God's voice. So what if we spent more time reading the Bible than we do reading the news (or facebook, twitter, reddit, pinterest, etc.)?
But why stop there. God is not an impersonal god who can only be heard through written text. Like the bleating sheep who is lost and trapped, we can call out to God, and he hears us. The best way I have discovered to get to know someone's voice is by spending time with them and talking with them. God tells us time and again to come to Him with anything and everything that weighs on our hearts and minds. Bring Him your cares and concerns, and bring Him your joys and thanksgiving. Then, as in any conversation, we need to quiet ourselves and listen. I don't know about you, but that can be the hardest part for me. I still want to do it, because I want to be sure I hear Him when He has something to say.
We may not be able to hear God with our ears, but we can rest assured knowing that we do not worship a silent God. Our God is not a mute idol or a cold text. Ours is the God who spoke creation into existence. His words formed the mountains, the oceans, and the stars. And He is still speaking today. He is the good shepherd, and the sheep know His voice, and follow Him.
Sunday, September 04, 2016
The World Has One Rule
Here we are enjoying another relaxing Sunday afternoon. Per my general routine, I found myself revisiting a movie from my small (but oh, so good) collection while eating a delicious lunch (today it was leftover pasta with ground beef in a red sauce). The cinematic selection was a philosophical film from 1979 called The Frisco Kid. In this comedic clash of cultures a Jewish rabbi from Poland named Abram (played by Gene Wilder) ventures across the United States to deliver a Torah to a new synagogue in 1850's San Francisco. The rabbi is obviously out of his element when Tommy--a scruffy looking bank robber, played by Harrison Ford--meets up with him. Tommy offers help a little at a time until next thing you know the two are trudging through the snow of the Rocky Mountains.
It is at this point in the film where I encountered a line that had in the past only been a humorous jab, but today packed more of a poignant punch. The unlikely amigos are bedding down in a stable when Tommy suggests staying put for a few months to wait out the bad weather. Abram insists that too much time has been wasted already, and Tommy gets flustered because some of that time has been due to Abram's strict adherence to the Sabbath.
For those who don't know, God commanded the people of Israel to not work on the Sabbath--what we would call Saturday--and because of this the Jews made a lot of rules to ensure that no work would occur on the Sabbath. Among the rules is a statute forbidding them from riding on the Sabbath. They won't ride a train or a horse...though I wonder how Abram managed to cross the ocean without jumping overboard for a Saturday swim.
Here comes the part that caught my attention. Abram reminds Tommy that it is against his religion to ride on a Saturday. To which, Tommy replies, "I got me a new religion too! And one of the things you ain't allowed to do is die!"
I don't know how many times growing up I heard my Dad say, "if you want to get rich, start a new religion." So the notion of Tommy inventing a new religion so that he could get what he wanted was just another comical gesture...until today. This time as I was enjoying my afternoon amusement I realized that Tommy was stating the most important tenet of the most religious majority of people in this world; Thou shalt not die.
We were discussing this very thing in Sunday school this morning as we considered the implications of a creator of all things. If there is a creator of all things, then there is a God and it is not me. He is the one who determines the how and the why. He sets the standard of morality, righteousness, and justice. He makes things as they are and I have no place trying to make them anything other than what he created.
However, if there is not a creator of all things, then the only god in my world is me. There is no higher authority unless I submit myself to some other thing. I say what is right and wrong. I say what should and shouldn't be. I can look at what is and find no qualms in spending a great deal of time, effort, and resources in making it other than what it is. There is no standard that really matters. If I can do something, why shouldn't I?
Though there is a problem with being god. If I am god, then my story ends with god dying. Therefore, we as gods need one rule; you're not allowed to die. And we have tried to follow that rule. Countless resources and man-hours--nay, man-lives--have been given to the search for immortality; yet to no avail. Again, if there is a God then we have no right to change what is to what was not meant to be.
Yet, age after age the world reels against the flow of time. Day after day over 150,000 people cry out, "I'm not supposed to die!" It's against their religion.
Is this all they are living for? Another day, another chance to survive the cosmic lottery. They believe that lottery is what jump-started life from a primordial ooze. But do they realize that in such a universe the lottery is still running? Only now it is not a gamble to start life, but to end it, and each day we are playing against the odds.
IF, however, there is indeed a God and creator of the universe, then our lives--each and every one of them--has meaning and a purpose. Because that means that God chose to make YOU. He didn't have to do it. It wasn't enough for this world to have me, your weird cousin, and the guy who makes sure the printer at the New York Times is running. He wanted to make you. His plan isn't complete without you having some role in it.
Our lives are not by chance. We are not just giant fruit-flies; here to pester the world for a few days while we try to eat as much as possible and lay our eggs before we die so that our descendants can continue to torment the world for ages to come. We are so much more. We are created in the image of God so that we can have a personal relationship with Him. Do you want that? I should warn you, there are no rules about not dying. But He does promise that you will live with Him forever. If you ask me, that is infinitely better.
It is at this point in the film where I encountered a line that had in the past only been a humorous jab, but today packed more of a poignant punch. The unlikely amigos are bedding down in a stable when Tommy suggests staying put for a few months to wait out the bad weather. Abram insists that too much time has been wasted already, and Tommy gets flustered because some of that time has been due to Abram's strict adherence to the Sabbath.
For those who don't know, God commanded the people of Israel to not work on the Sabbath--what we would call Saturday--and because of this the Jews made a lot of rules to ensure that no work would occur on the Sabbath. Among the rules is a statute forbidding them from riding on the Sabbath. They won't ride a train or a horse...though I wonder how Abram managed to cross the ocean without jumping overboard for a Saturday swim.
Here comes the part that caught my attention. Abram reminds Tommy that it is against his religion to ride on a Saturday. To which, Tommy replies, "I got me a new religion too! And one of the things you ain't allowed to do is die!"
I don't know how many times growing up I heard my Dad say, "if you want to get rich, start a new religion." So the notion of Tommy inventing a new religion so that he could get what he wanted was just another comical gesture...until today. This time as I was enjoying my afternoon amusement I realized that Tommy was stating the most important tenet of the most religious majority of people in this world; Thou shalt not die.
We were discussing this very thing in Sunday school this morning as we considered the implications of a creator of all things. If there is a creator of all things, then there is a God and it is not me. He is the one who determines the how and the why. He sets the standard of morality, righteousness, and justice. He makes things as they are and I have no place trying to make them anything other than what he created.
However, if there is not a creator of all things, then the only god in my world is me. There is no higher authority unless I submit myself to some other thing. I say what is right and wrong. I say what should and shouldn't be. I can look at what is and find no qualms in spending a great deal of time, effort, and resources in making it other than what it is. There is no standard that really matters. If I can do something, why shouldn't I?
Though there is a problem with being god. If I am god, then my story ends with god dying. Therefore, we as gods need one rule; you're not allowed to die. And we have tried to follow that rule. Countless resources and man-hours--nay, man-lives--have been given to the search for immortality; yet to no avail. Again, if there is a God then we have no right to change what is to what was not meant to be.
Yet, age after age the world reels against the flow of time. Day after day over 150,000 people cry out, "I'm not supposed to die!" It's against their religion.
Is this all they are living for? Another day, another chance to survive the cosmic lottery. They believe that lottery is what jump-started life from a primordial ooze. But do they realize that in such a universe the lottery is still running? Only now it is not a gamble to start life, but to end it, and each day we are playing against the odds.
IF, however, there is indeed a God and creator of the universe, then our lives--each and every one of them--has meaning and a purpose. Because that means that God chose to make YOU. He didn't have to do it. It wasn't enough for this world to have me, your weird cousin, and the guy who makes sure the printer at the New York Times is running. He wanted to make you. His plan isn't complete without you having some role in it.
Our lives are not by chance. We are not just giant fruit-flies; here to pester the world for a few days while we try to eat as much as possible and lay our eggs before we die so that our descendants can continue to torment the world for ages to come. We are so much more. We are created in the image of God so that we can have a personal relationship with Him. Do you want that? I should warn you, there are no rules about not dying. But He does promise that you will live with Him forever. If you ask me, that is infinitely better.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Facing the School Year (Or Whatever Life has for You)
For the last few weeks I've been noticing summer/school countdowns and first-day-of-school pics galore on social media. My schools started classes this last Wednesday, and I am psyched! People keep asking, "how were the first few days of classes?" And let me tell you, they have gone really well...once we got past all the groaning...oh yeah, and the kids were groaning too. Seriously though, I get excited when school starts because these students are what I live for. I certainly need a break from teaching by the time we get to summer, but I really miss my kids during those months. So by the time we reach the first day of school I am way too excited for my students to handle. They are still in the process of mourning the end of summer. I get that.
This could be a post about "New Beginnings," but it's not. As I have begun this new school year (which is really the only kind of year that has meant anything to me, and I don't understand why we are still following that calendar Gregory gave us) I've been thinking a lot about the purpose of the year. If you are going to start something, there should be a reason. There may be times in your life when you need to start small things--like hobbies--just for the sake of doing something with your time, but most things you begin should have meaning in their future. No one starts school just to collect thirteen or fourteen first-day-of-school pictures. No one starts a job for the sake of saying they showed up on their first day of work (or at least no one should start a job for that reason). No one--or should I sadly say "very few"--gets married just for the sake of having a wedding. No one climbs Mt. Everest just so they can hang out at the base camp. I want to start this year of school with a purpose; a goal to be achieved; a challenge to overcome.
The scary thing about starting with a purpose, however, is that you then start looking into the future--an unknown realm of mystery, tragedy, suspense, and horror...okay I'll stop listing movie genres. If there is a goal, a purpose, or a challenge, that means you are looking down the line to something that must be accomplished over some period of time. These are very vague terms so please allow me to apply a concrete parallel. To begin a school year with purpose means that you have just set a goal that is to be accomplished over the period of--and no less than--nine months. (Now that I put it in those terms I have that much more respect for mothers. God bless you all.) A goal that big seems near impossible when viewed from the skewed perspective of today. It's no wonder the kids are bemoaning the end of summer. They are viewing the next nine months from the singular moment of today. That is both terrifying and demoralizing.
How is a person supposed to maintain his sanity with so many syllabi hanging over his head; not to mention all the social, athletic, and community events on the calendar. Add to that the unknown sick days, appointments, family vacations, and all the work that has to be done at home and...I'm so overwhelmed by the thought of it that I don't even know how to finish that sentence.
That's why I have to stop myself at times and remember a few key things:
1) You don't finish a marathon by believing you have what it takes to make it to the end. You finish by believing you have what it takes to take one more step. (Maybe there are some crazy people out there who finish marathons an entire marathon at a time. Kudos to you. I would have to push forward one step at a time.)
I can remember numerous times in college when I would look at my calendar of assignments, my calendar of events, and my work schedule (which was actually the same as the calendar of events in my case) and I would be overwhelmed by how much needed to be accomplished in the short time I had. The only thing I could do was pray that God would help me to do the best that I could, and then dig in my heals to do it. I prioritized my assignments and used my time as best I could without burning myself out (seriously, I made it all the way through college without a single all-nighter).
You can't do everything today that needs to be done in a year. All you can do is what needs to be done today. Jesus tells us, "do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matt. 6:34). So seek the source of all life, energy, and wisdom, and take the next step; just the next one.
2) While life should be lived with purpose, God reserves the right to have alternate purposes for you.
To use the same example from college, all that work laid out in front of me held behind it the looming threat of failing courses, losing scholarships, and ultimately flunking out of school. My great consolation was in knowing that I was where God wanted me to be, and doing what God wanted me to do. And even in the midst of all the studies and events, I tried (not always perfectly) to make sure that I was still pursuing my relationship with him. With those things in mind I knew that as long as I was doing my best in his strength, things would turn out the way that he wanted. Of course, I also kept in mind that it was a perfectly viable possibility that what God would want at some point could be that I flunk out of college (he has done crazier things). I wasn't going to work toward that end. But I also wasn't going to worry myself to death over something that--should it still happen even after doing everything I could to succeed--could still be God's plan for my life.
Of course that possibility never became reality, but it's amazing how much worry you lose when you consider the "worst case" scenario and realize that--though unpleasant--it would still be okay as long as you still have God with you. Which brings me to my final reminder.
3) God is always there. And God always cares.
Though his plan may be different, he still understands our dreams and ambitions better than anyone else. He knows how much they mean to us, and he knows how hard it can be to let them go. He also knows how daunting our goals can be to pursue. He knows just what we need to accomplish the task, and he can give it to us. There is one catch. He only ever promises to give us what we need for today (if we ask). Sure, there are plenty of ways in which he has provided more than we need for the day, but they are not guaranteed. To help us understand this mindset Jesus told his disciples to pray not for an abundance that would firmly establish them until their dying day, but only for the daily bread. God knows that one day's bread isn't enough to accomplish all that he has planned for your life. But he also knows that one day's bread is all that you need right now to accomplish what he has planned for your life today.
He also knows that when we have "everything we need" we do two things: want more, and forget about him. When the Israelites were wandering in the dessert, God gave them everything they needed when they needed it. He even kept their clothes and shoes from wearing out...for FORTY YEARS! What did they do? Complain for God to provide them with the latest fashions and some new Nikes...or maybe it was food. Oh yeah, they complained for some more food. They forgot everything he had done for them and focused on how much more they could have. It only got uglier from there. But God never abandoned them. Not really.
With these three reminders in place, as I look at all that I hope to accomplish in this most purposeful year before me I don't have to panic. No, God hasn't already provided everything that I need to make this year a success. But that's okay because he has provided everything I need to make today a success. More than that, he has provided himself. He has provided his Son to give me life and guarantee my future. And he has provided his constant, caring presence in my life. And he is sufficient in all things.
Here's to a new year. May God be glorified!
Sunday, August 14, 2016
What Are You Waiting For?
What does a writer do when he doesn't feel like writing? He writes, of course. I can't recall the number of times I have set out to put words together in some informative or otherwise meaningful manner--whether for school or for leisure--yet have found myself without words, concepts, nor desire to write. It is a common condition known as "writer's block."
It seems that the writer's worst enemy is a blank page. Unless the writer comes to the page with a distinct idea in mind, there is every chance that no idea will be forth coming. And so I find myself sitting in front of the computer for minutes on end trying to think of something...anything to write.
They say that the best solution for writer's block is to simply put words on the page. It doesn't have to be the beginning. It doesn't have to even be words that will be included in the final draft. The key is to break the illusion of the blank page and to prime the creative pump with some form of cognitive juices. for this reason I have written numerous papers starting from the middle. I even had an early phase in my blogging where I began several of my posts with absolutely ridiculous and unrelated stories. I enjoyed the nonsense so much that they usually survived the final edit.
The key to moving forward in writing when nothing comes readily to mind is to simply write. Throw words out. Do something!
I find the same can be true of life. Many of us find ourselves in situations where we think we should be doing something, and we want to do something, but we don't know what we are supposed to do? How many people actually know what they want to do as soon as they graduate high school. Some even make it through college and still have no clue what comes next. People have lost their jobs only to lose their sense of direction in life. Other situations might not be as dire, yet are still directionaly frustrating. What church should I attend? How should I help others in my community? What does God want me to do right now?!
James tells us that he who knows what to do and doesn't do it, to him it is sin. But what are we supposed to do when we don't know what to do? I don't know. Those are the moments in life where all I can say is the following.
How is my relationship with God? Am I seeking him? Am I following him? Am I spending time in prayer with him and in his word? Do I find myself turning to him or to myself in the situations of my day? What fruit is my life producing? Do I live as though my life comes from him? I'm not looking for perfection in my life, but I am looking for evidence of connection to his life.
If I'm not connected, that is the first thing I need to address. I then know what I need to be doing. If I am connected, I look at the opportunities God has placed around me. Most of us want to know what to do with the big picture of our lives, but much of the time the important things happen in the little pictures of our lives. God has a lot to tell us in his word about how we are to live with and care for our family, our neighbors, our friends, and even our enemies. When I look at the relationships--good or bad--that God has surrounded me with, I can know what I am supposed to be doing. Life is full of opportunities and choices. Some of them are not as grey as we would like to think.
After considering those things I then ponder this: If my delight is in the Lord, what desires has he placed on my heart that match his heart? I can remember thinking as a kid that I could never say that I was never going to become a missionary, because then God would make me a missionary. As if God's great desire was to make us miserable and watch us squirm as we reluctantly, but submissively obey him. I guess the last laugh is on me because instead I kept saying that I would never become a teacher.
Over the years, however, I have come to realize that God can and does actually put desires in us that he wants us to go for. I was stuck for so long on the idea of NOT doing what I wanted to do because that would be selfish. Come to find out some of those wants are built into us by God. So what do I want to do? And does it line up with what God says he is about?
Beyond that, there are so many decisions in life that are not "yes" or "no," but are "yes" and "yes." When Robert Frost told us that the road he took made all the difference he didn't say he took the better road. He said it was less traveled, though it really looked about the same. He said he took one and it made a difference. Every choice will bring you to a different destination, but that doesn't make it better or worse. Yes, there are some roads God does not want us to take, and some that he most definitely does. But there are plenty of times when we come to a fork in the road and God just wants us to take it. Do something! If you are connected to him and following his word and his voice, he can use any combination of decisions that you make to accomplish great things. But if you're just standing still, staring at a blank piece of paper, and waiting for some divine revelation to dictate what you should have for breakfast to start your day, you won't get anywhere.
The best part comes when we live our lives connected to God and just doing things as they come, and then it happens. God finally gives us a clear direction. It doesn't minimize the importance of the work we do and the way we live every other day, but it is rather exciting. Don't wait for that moment though. Live today. Put some words on the page.
See? Look at all those words I just wrote. Just do something!
It seems that the writer's worst enemy is a blank page. Unless the writer comes to the page with a distinct idea in mind, there is every chance that no idea will be forth coming. And so I find myself sitting in front of the computer for minutes on end trying to think of something...anything to write.
They say that the best solution for writer's block is to simply put words on the page. It doesn't have to be the beginning. It doesn't have to even be words that will be included in the final draft. The key is to break the illusion of the blank page and to prime the creative pump with some form of cognitive juices. for this reason I have written numerous papers starting from the middle. I even had an early phase in my blogging where I began several of my posts with absolutely ridiculous and unrelated stories. I enjoyed the nonsense so much that they usually survived the final edit.
The key to moving forward in writing when nothing comes readily to mind is to simply write. Throw words out. Do something!
I find the same can be true of life. Many of us find ourselves in situations where we think we should be doing something, and we want to do something, but we don't know what we are supposed to do? How many people actually know what they want to do as soon as they graduate high school. Some even make it through college and still have no clue what comes next. People have lost their jobs only to lose their sense of direction in life. Other situations might not be as dire, yet are still directionaly frustrating. What church should I attend? How should I help others in my community? What does God want me to do right now?!
James tells us that he who knows what to do and doesn't do it, to him it is sin. But what are we supposed to do when we don't know what to do? I don't know. Those are the moments in life where all I can say is the following.
How is my relationship with God? Am I seeking him? Am I following him? Am I spending time in prayer with him and in his word? Do I find myself turning to him or to myself in the situations of my day? What fruit is my life producing? Do I live as though my life comes from him? I'm not looking for perfection in my life, but I am looking for evidence of connection to his life.
If I'm not connected, that is the first thing I need to address. I then know what I need to be doing. If I am connected, I look at the opportunities God has placed around me. Most of us want to know what to do with the big picture of our lives, but much of the time the important things happen in the little pictures of our lives. God has a lot to tell us in his word about how we are to live with and care for our family, our neighbors, our friends, and even our enemies. When I look at the relationships--good or bad--that God has surrounded me with, I can know what I am supposed to be doing. Life is full of opportunities and choices. Some of them are not as grey as we would like to think.
After considering those things I then ponder this: If my delight is in the Lord, what desires has he placed on my heart that match his heart? I can remember thinking as a kid that I could never say that I was never going to become a missionary, because then God would make me a missionary. As if God's great desire was to make us miserable and watch us squirm as we reluctantly, but submissively obey him. I guess the last laugh is on me because instead I kept saying that I would never become a teacher.
Over the years, however, I have come to realize that God can and does actually put desires in us that he wants us to go for. I was stuck for so long on the idea of NOT doing what I wanted to do because that would be selfish. Come to find out some of those wants are built into us by God. So what do I want to do? And does it line up with what God says he is about?
Beyond that, there are so many decisions in life that are not "yes" or "no," but are "yes" and "yes." When Robert Frost told us that the road he took made all the difference he didn't say he took the better road. He said it was less traveled, though it really looked about the same. He said he took one and it made a difference. Every choice will bring you to a different destination, but that doesn't make it better or worse. Yes, there are some roads God does not want us to take, and some that he most definitely does. But there are plenty of times when we come to a fork in the road and God just wants us to take it. Do something! If you are connected to him and following his word and his voice, he can use any combination of decisions that you make to accomplish great things. But if you're just standing still, staring at a blank piece of paper, and waiting for some divine revelation to dictate what you should have for breakfast to start your day, you won't get anywhere.
The best part comes when we live our lives connected to God and just doing things as they come, and then it happens. God finally gives us a clear direction. It doesn't minimize the importance of the work we do and the way we live every other day, but it is rather exciting. Don't wait for that moment though. Live today. Put some words on the page.
See? Look at all those words I just wrote. Just do something!
Sunday, August 07, 2016
The Problem With Comparison
Sometimes you get to the end of another week and you look back and ask yourself, "what happened this week that would be worth telling anyone about?" Yourself, being the moderately insane person that he is, answers back, "hmmmm...nope. Nothin' here." Oh, sure, you did a number of things over the week, and you accomplished a lot, but not a bit of it seems particularly note worthy.
It's in those moments that you start to ask yourself, "if I was *talkative friend who shall not be named*, what part of my week would I be communicating right now?" But because you just aren't one of those people who tend to be able to talk about anything at any time you think for a moment introspectively and respond, "...still got nothing."
Let's be honest folks. Not every day is an apple-pie-sepia-filter-instagram day. There are times when these days, weeks, and occasionally months can feel rather disconcerting. I like to use Facebook because it gives me a way to stay connected to people I care about. But Facebook--and many other forms of social media--comes with side-effects. Many of us already know that the tendency is to post the better portions of our lives online, or to dress up the average bits so that they sparkle like the new snapchat filter. And why wouldn't we? Who wants to hang their dirty laundry out for the world to see? It's not entirely a bad thing. In fact some of us could use even more discretion when it comes to what we post online. (Why would a potential employer need to call your references when you've already painted a clear image of your immaturity and total lack of responsibility in your last three party posts?)
But for the most part we see the good stuff. And there is nothing wrong with good stuff. I see happy babies, and proud spouses, and world travelers, and upset babies, and accomplished kids, and goofy babies, and weddings, and anniversaries, and poopy babies, and graduations, and delicious meals, and growing babies, and hilarious antics, and people coming together, and round bellies carrying babies (seriously people, SO many babies!). There are so many wonderful and exciting things happening in the lives of people that I care about. As wonderful as that is for them (and I'm very happy for you all), it can become discouraging and generate discontentment in my own life.
Your life from this side of the screen looks fantastic, and so does his, and hers, and theirs, and hers... Soon the voice of doubt and discouragement slips in. Too bad your life isn't that exciting. Why don't you get to do those things? What's wrong with you? Then the Ifonly monster tries to defend you, but tears you up in the process. If only I lived in that area...If only I was in this relationship...If only I had those skills...If only...
Before long you have generated a thousand reasons for dropping the life you have now and picking up the life that your friends are living. Or are they?
Let's take a look at the numbers. I have (some of you will laugh at this, I don't care) 350 "friends" on Facebook. If those people take turns so that only ten people post positive portrayals of their lives every day (in one post or five, it doesn't matter) it would be an entire month before any one of those friends would need to have another good day to post. One good day a month is all it would take. Some of you probably have over 1,000 friends. Your friends could have one good day every three months and that would be sufficient to generate a state of discontent. Does that really sound like a better life?
I know that isn't how things actually work. But it isn't too far from the reality. I see plenty of negative posts about people's struggles, frustrations, accidents, tragedies, worries, and losses. Does that ever factor into my negative self-talk? Nope! Your life still looks generally better from all the way over here. Ipso facto, your life is better than mine.
Actually, this is not a 21st century phenomenon. Paul didn't live anywhere near the time of Twitter, but he still had to remind Christians several times in multiple geographic areas that envy and jealousy were not products of a healthy walk with Christ. On the contrary, he tells us that love--a product of a Spirit filled life--does not envy. He says that he has found a way to be content in any situation. We're not talking about contentment that is a resigned and bitter settling for less, because in the same letter Paul keeps pounding at the drum of "rejoice in the Lord always!" He tells us that our lives are to be marked with thankfulness, and there are a plethora of reasons to be thankful at any given moment.
So let's be honest. Not every day is a #nofilter day. Most days would seem in passing to be ordinary; maybe even ho-hum. Other days can be outright unpleasant or even horrendous. But some days are wonderful. And even when they aren't, each day is a unique creation of God, and is full of blessings for which we can be thankful and even rejoice. His mercies are new every morning. No day is without purpose. No life is without purpose. Don't give up on yours so easily. God made it extra special, and there isn't another like it in its unique beauty.
It's in those moments that you start to ask yourself, "if I was *talkative friend who shall not be named*, what part of my week would I be communicating right now?" But because you just aren't one of those people who tend to be able to talk about anything at any time you think for a moment introspectively and respond, "...still got nothing."
Let's be honest folks. Not every day is an apple-pie-sepia-filter-instagram day. There are times when these days, weeks, and occasionally months can feel rather disconcerting. I like to use Facebook because it gives me a way to stay connected to people I care about. But Facebook--and many other forms of social media--comes with side-effects. Many of us already know that the tendency is to post the better portions of our lives online, or to dress up the average bits so that they sparkle like the new snapchat filter. And why wouldn't we? Who wants to hang their dirty laundry out for the world to see? It's not entirely a bad thing. In fact some of us could use even more discretion when it comes to what we post online. (Why would a potential employer need to call your references when you've already painted a clear image of your immaturity and total lack of responsibility in your last three party posts?)
But for the most part we see the good stuff. And there is nothing wrong with good stuff. I see happy babies, and proud spouses, and world travelers, and upset babies, and accomplished kids, and goofy babies, and weddings, and anniversaries, and poopy babies, and graduations, and delicious meals, and growing babies, and hilarious antics, and people coming together, and round bellies carrying babies (seriously people, SO many babies!). There are so many wonderful and exciting things happening in the lives of people that I care about. As wonderful as that is for them (and I'm very happy for you all), it can become discouraging and generate discontentment in my own life.
Your life from this side of the screen looks fantastic, and so does his, and hers, and theirs, and hers... Soon the voice of doubt and discouragement slips in. Too bad your life isn't that exciting. Why don't you get to do those things? What's wrong with you? Then the Ifonly monster tries to defend you, but tears you up in the process. If only I lived in that area...If only I was in this relationship...If only I had those skills...If only...
Before long you have generated a thousand reasons for dropping the life you have now and picking up the life that your friends are living. Or are they?
Let's take a look at the numbers. I have (some of you will laugh at this, I don't care) 350 "friends" on Facebook. If those people take turns so that only ten people post positive portrayals of their lives every day (in one post or five, it doesn't matter) it would be an entire month before any one of those friends would need to have another good day to post. One good day a month is all it would take. Some of you probably have over 1,000 friends. Your friends could have one good day every three months and that would be sufficient to generate a state of discontent. Does that really sound like a better life?
I know that isn't how things actually work. But it isn't too far from the reality. I see plenty of negative posts about people's struggles, frustrations, accidents, tragedies, worries, and losses. Does that ever factor into my negative self-talk? Nope! Your life still looks generally better from all the way over here. Ipso facto, your life is better than mine.
Actually, this is not a 21st century phenomenon. Paul didn't live anywhere near the time of Twitter, but he still had to remind Christians several times in multiple geographic areas that envy and jealousy were not products of a healthy walk with Christ. On the contrary, he tells us that love--a product of a Spirit filled life--does not envy. He says that he has found a way to be content in any situation. We're not talking about contentment that is a resigned and bitter settling for less, because in the same letter Paul keeps pounding at the drum of "rejoice in the Lord always!" He tells us that our lives are to be marked with thankfulness, and there are a plethora of reasons to be thankful at any given moment.
So let's be honest. Not every day is a #nofilter day. Most days would seem in passing to be ordinary; maybe even ho-hum. Other days can be outright unpleasant or even horrendous. But some days are wonderful. And even when they aren't, each day is a unique creation of God, and is full of blessings for which we can be thankful and even rejoice. His mercies are new every morning. No day is without purpose. No life is without purpose. Don't give up on yours so easily. God made it extra special, and there isn't another like it in its unique beauty.
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Is Time on Your Side?
Why do you think it is that God created us to be so hopeful and imaginative about our futures, but then only gives us enough time, energy, and resources to accomplish a small fraction of what we imagine? Every summer I run into this problem. I start the summer with such great ambitions and intentions and before you know it August is rolling around and I haven't started three quarters of what I had hoped to accomplish. This summer I was sure that I had set the bar reasonably; not too much, all doable, easily paced out over two-and-a-half months. I would say I've accomplished half of it, but that other half is going to be a doozy to pack into the next two weeks. How does this happen?!
I don't fault God for any of it. He created us to be creative. He gave us interests and ambitions so that we would enjoy moving forward in our creativity and efforts. And he does need to give us some parameters to abide by so that we don't go too crazy and try to build a skyscraper up to the heavens (like those guys I mentioned last week). Some of our ideas might seem great, but really should not be allowed to take form.
Can you imagine what it would be like to encounter the perfect summer (a la Phineas and Ferb), wherein you accomplish everything you could possibly imagine? What would you do after that? What's the point any more?
"What should we do this summer?"
"We could visit the miniature swamp volcanoes of the south Peruvian islands."
"Nah, we did that last summer."
The perfect summer can only possibly be followed up by the least interesting summer of all time. That's just the way we're wired. Oh, sure, we can still have a great summer. But there will always be something more to try for next year. It's like every comedian knows, you always end the show while they're still laughing; leave them wanting more. And as long as we are on this earth we will always find ourselves coming just short of being satisfied.
There will never be enough time. There will never be enough money, food, friends, adventures, or accomplishments. There will never be enough because we weren't built to be satisfied by anything on this planet or in this universe. We were built to enjoy it, certainly. But we were not intended to find our fulfillment in it. That we can only find in one place; a relationship with Jesus Christ, our creator and savior.
Ultimately, that is what God wants for us. So why should he give us unlimited resources to match our seemingly unlimited imagination? Just look at those people who seem to have it all. Do they appear satisfied in their accomplishments. Last I checked those people were generally miserable and still scrambling for more time. Think about it. Ashley Montagu explained it well when she said, "The idea is to die young as late as possible." They are all striving for immortality on earth. Even the wealthy don't have enough time.
But do you know who has all eternity? It's those crazy people who rather than pursuing fame and fortune have chosen to follow Jesus. That's what I'm banking on. My summer may be coming to an end, but that's okay because I have all the time in eternity to dream up more crazy projects and adventures.
It's not an exclusive club either. Anyone can join, but there is only one way in and there is a deadline. Jesus told his disciples, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." He is the only place to find true fulfillment and complete satisfaction for all eternity.
And on that note, I guess I'm okay with summer coming to an end so soon. Now where did I put my scarf and gloves?
I don't fault God for any of it. He created us to be creative. He gave us interests and ambitions so that we would enjoy moving forward in our creativity and efforts. And he does need to give us some parameters to abide by so that we don't go too crazy and try to build a skyscraper up to the heavens (like those guys I mentioned last week). Some of our ideas might seem great, but really should not be allowed to take form.
Can you imagine what it would be like to encounter the perfect summer (a la Phineas and Ferb), wherein you accomplish everything you could possibly imagine? What would you do after that? What's the point any more?
"What should we do this summer?"
"We could visit the miniature swamp volcanoes of the south Peruvian islands."
"Nah, we did that last summer."
The perfect summer can only possibly be followed up by the least interesting summer of all time. That's just the way we're wired. Oh, sure, we can still have a great summer. But there will always be something more to try for next year. It's like every comedian knows, you always end the show while they're still laughing; leave them wanting more. And as long as we are on this earth we will always find ourselves coming just short of being satisfied.
There will never be enough time. There will never be enough money, food, friends, adventures, or accomplishments. There will never be enough because we weren't built to be satisfied by anything on this planet or in this universe. We were built to enjoy it, certainly. But we were not intended to find our fulfillment in it. That we can only find in one place; a relationship with Jesus Christ, our creator and savior.
Ultimately, that is what God wants for us. So why should he give us unlimited resources to match our seemingly unlimited imagination? Just look at those people who seem to have it all. Do they appear satisfied in their accomplishments. Last I checked those people were generally miserable and still scrambling for more time. Think about it. Ashley Montagu explained it well when she said, "The idea is to die young as late as possible." They are all striving for immortality on earth. Even the wealthy don't have enough time.
But do you know who has all eternity? It's those crazy people who rather than pursuing fame and fortune have chosen to follow Jesus. That's what I'm banking on. My summer may be coming to an end, but that's okay because I have all the time in eternity to dream up more crazy projects and adventures.
It's not an exclusive club either. Anyone can join, but there is only one way in and there is a deadline. Jesus told his disciples, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." He is the only place to find true fulfillment and complete satisfaction for all eternity.
And on that note, I guess I'm okay with summer coming to an end so soon. Now where did I put my scarf and gloves?
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Why Is Communication So Hard?
Our world seems to be suffering from a communication breakdown. It permeates every facet of life from the personal level to the global. This communication breakdown can be traced back thousands of years to a unique incident. It was a wonderful time; a veritable utopia wherein all people spoke the same language and managed to work together toward a common goal. It would have been a perfect society except that their common goal was the obsoletion of God and the deification of man. Seriously though, it wouldn't have ended well. So God stepped in.
He recognized that if we were left to our own devices we could accomplish anything. Sounds great, right? I mean, that's what we keep telling our kids. The problem that God recognized was that the "anything" that we would choose to accomplish would have been horribly wrong and ultimately very bad for all parties involved.
So what does God do? Of course, he scrambles our communication systems. We know that God suddenly caused people to speak in different languages so that no one would understand anyone else. It would all sound like senseless babble. Kind of like when you listen to a talkative baby, or watch anime in the original language (I don't get it guys! The English dub might be a little over the top, but it's usually just as good, and you don't miss anything in the captions when you step away to grab your popcorn out of the microwave. Can't we all just get along?). Everyone was confused, and all production was ceased. People began spreading out (as God had told them to in the first place). It was probably not the solution I would have come up with, but I must say it was an effective strategy. Well played, God. Well played.
But I'm beginning to wonder, what if a change in languages wasn't the only thing that God did to human kind that day? What if God scrambled our entire communication system. Because communication is so much more than just speaking words in a known language and hearing words in a known language. There are senders, receivers, filters, encoding, decoding, and probably some steps that I'm forgetting right this moment. Even if God had left us all with the same language, but messed with just our encoding and decoding systems, we would be able to get...well, kind of where we are today.
Every day we produce statements that make perfect sense to us. Yet the people we are talking to seem to get the entire idea backwards or off in left field.
Part of the issue is that we sometimes use words with an intended meaning that is not inherent in the words themselves. Example: I know a guy whom I will refer to as "Reginald". When I am talking with Regy and he is explaining something to me he will periodically ask the question, "do you know what I mean?" For years I would answer based on my perceived understanding of what he was trying to communicate. If I thought I understood his intent, I would say "yes". If I was confused, I would say "no". It wasn't until more recently that I discovered the true meaning behind Regy's question. He wasn't really asking whether or not I understood what he meant. What he was actually asking was whether or not I agreed with his line of thinking. So now when I talk with Reginald and he asks, "do you know what I mean?" I will answer with a more clear, "yes, I know what you mean, but I don't/and I do agree with you."
These kinds of miscommunications have been damaging marriages for centuries (probably millennia). They are so common--especially when the encoding and decoding takes place across the gender filter--that comedians have been banking on these misunderstandings for quite some time. It's a regular Amelia Bedelia circus. What's even better is that we know we have this problem--we can even laugh about it if we have a healthy perspective on life--yet we still manage to get so incredibly frustrated when we find ourselves in those very same situations. I've been there. Some times I will even have enough presence of mind to realize that I am not actually communicating my message, but I still won't be able to find the right words to make my point. We can try, and try, and try again, and it still might not click all the way through to the other person.
What if that is part of what God did on that infamous day at the Tower of Babel? As if to say, "I'm going to make them all talk in different languages, but just in case they try to come back around to a more unified means of communication I will also jumble their sense of meaning as well...for good measure. That should keep them in line for a while." Boy howdy, did it ever! If there was ever any concern that we might all actually work agreeably together, it was taken care of right there and then. We've been at each others' throats ever since.
Just imagine with me for a moment if our tongues were graced with all the fruit of the spirit. What if every word from our mouths (which Jesus tells us is simply the overflow of the heart; in other words, the spiritual condition of our heart shapes our speech) was produced from a spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control? What would happen if we allowed the Holy Spirit to encode our words? Rather than getting frustrated with others when they don't understand us, what if instead we recognized our own short-comings in understanding others, and showed grace and love to those around us?
There is no guarantee that all communication would become perfect because there is still a matter of the receiver requiring the Holy Spirit to decode the message. We can only do our part; we cannot dictate the actions and understandings of others. But we can show grace.
Lord, how can I use my words this week to show and share your love and grace to others?
He recognized that if we were left to our own devices we could accomplish anything. Sounds great, right? I mean, that's what we keep telling our kids. The problem that God recognized was that the "anything" that we would choose to accomplish would have been horribly wrong and ultimately very bad for all parties involved.
So what does God do? Of course, he scrambles our communication systems. We know that God suddenly caused people to speak in different languages so that no one would understand anyone else. It would all sound like senseless babble. Kind of like when you listen to a talkative baby, or watch anime in the original language (I don't get it guys! The English dub might be a little over the top, but it's usually just as good, and you don't miss anything in the captions when you step away to grab your popcorn out of the microwave. Can't we all just get along?). Everyone was confused, and all production was ceased. People began spreading out (as God had told them to in the first place). It was probably not the solution I would have come up with, but I must say it was an effective strategy. Well played, God. Well played.
But I'm beginning to wonder, what if a change in languages wasn't the only thing that God did to human kind that day? What if God scrambled our entire communication system. Because communication is so much more than just speaking words in a known language and hearing words in a known language. There are senders, receivers, filters, encoding, decoding, and probably some steps that I'm forgetting right this moment. Even if God had left us all with the same language, but messed with just our encoding and decoding systems, we would be able to get...well, kind of where we are today.
Every day we produce statements that make perfect sense to us. Yet the people we are talking to seem to get the entire idea backwards or off in left field.
Part of the issue is that we sometimes use words with an intended meaning that is not inherent in the words themselves. Example: I know a guy whom I will refer to as "Reginald". When I am talking with Regy and he is explaining something to me he will periodically ask the question, "do you know what I mean?" For years I would answer based on my perceived understanding of what he was trying to communicate. If I thought I understood his intent, I would say "yes". If I was confused, I would say "no". It wasn't until more recently that I discovered the true meaning behind Regy's question. He wasn't really asking whether or not I understood what he meant. What he was actually asking was whether or not I agreed with his line of thinking. So now when I talk with Reginald and he asks, "do you know what I mean?" I will answer with a more clear, "yes, I know what you mean, but I don't/and I do agree with you."
These kinds of miscommunications have been damaging marriages for centuries (probably millennia). They are so common--especially when the encoding and decoding takes place across the gender filter--that comedians have been banking on these misunderstandings for quite some time. It's a regular Amelia Bedelia circus. What's even better is that we know we have this problem--we can even laugh about it if we have a healthy perspective on life--yet we still manage to get so incredibly frustrated when we find ourselves in those very same situations. I've been there. Some times I will even have enough presence of mind to realize that I am not actually communicating my message, but I still won't be able to find the right words to make my point. We can try, and try, and try again, and it still might not click all the way through to the other person.
What if that is part of what God did on that infamous day at the Tower of Babel? As if to say, "I'm going to make them all talk in different languages, but just in case they try to come back around to a more unified means of communication I will also jumble their sense of meaning as well...for good measure. That should keep them in line for a while." Boy howdy, did it ever! If there was ever any concern that we might all actually work agreeably together, it was taken care of right there and then. We've been at each others' throats ever since.
Just imagine with me for a moment if our tongues were graced with all the fruit of the spirit. What if every word from our mouths (which Jesus tells us is simply the overflow of the heart; in other words, the spiritual condition of our heart shapes our speech) was produced from a spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control? What would happen if we allowed the Holy Spirit to encode our words? Rather than getting frustrated with others when they don't understand us, what if instead we recognized our own short-comings in understanding others, and showed grace and love to those around us?
There is no guarantee that all communication would become perfect because there is still a matter of the receiver requiring the Holy Spirit to decode the message. We can only do our part; we cannot dictate the actions and understandings of others. But we can show grace.
Lord, how can I use my words this week to show and share your love and grace to others?
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Coming Home
Two thousand four hundred.
That is how many miles I have driven in the last nine days. I just got back from a trip home to visit family and friends. It was a week of fun, work, parties, and shenanigans. Oh, and lots of babies. Babies are the new trend. Babies and Pokemon Go. Who knew?!
The weird thing about returning to your hometown, where your family still lives in the same house and most of your friends from the area are still there, is that it feels like home. So, I went home for a visit, but when the visit was over I came back home. How does that work?
I've encountered this phenomenon before. I call it the home-away-from-home complex. No, the land-of-Oz syndrome. That's not it either. How about time-share mentality? Okay, I don't know what to call it, but the crux of the matter is that you live with a sense of having multiple homes. Researchers have yet to discover how this phenomena occurs (says the guy who has done zero research to see if that is even true), but I have a few theories.
My first theory is the spacial imprint theory. The basic idea is that because of various life experiences a location becomes emotionally imprinted on your brain in a way that draws you back time and again. These "home" locations are the geographical stages of primarily fond or formative moments in life. Some times these places take years to imprint while others take only a moment. I even have friends who have visited other countries for a couple days yet created such fond memories that they continue to live the rest of their lives feeling as though a part of them is meant to go back. Then there are those unfortunate few who, because of life circumstances, are never given the opportunity to develop a fond connection with any location. They go about their lives with no point of connection, and no sense of permanence or home.
Under this theory the sense of multiple homes can be compared to possessing multiple real estate investments. You have your modest house in the suburbs, your beach home in Santa Cruz, and your penthouse in Manhattan. They are all yours even though you are not always at each location.
My second theory involves parallel dimensions, string theory, and a quasi deja vu sixth sense. I won't go into that here.
My final stab in the dark is the relational connection theory. This hypothesis suggests that it is not the location at all, but the people who make a place feel like home. Similar to the spacial imprint theory, the relational connections are formed through positive or formative experiences. Family tends to be a common theme when defining home because in most situations people are surrounded by family (parents, siblings, cousins, etc.) through many of the most formative years of life. For some people home is defined by friends because those are the people with whom they connected during those pleasant and important moments.
The great thing about this theory is that "home" can be anywhere. It can be confusing and frustrating at times because you can't visit all of "home" in one summer (not on a music teacher's budget anyway). However, "home" eventually comes around to a beautiful conflux of family and friends when we all gather together around the throne of God to praise and adore him. You see, no matter how many "homes" I develop on this world, I will never truly feel as though I have come home until that day when I see my Lord and King and kneel before his throne lifting my voice in worship to the one who created me, rescued me, and gave me eternal life. That is my real home.
Paul reminds us of where we belong when he says, "you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God" (Ephesians 2:19). At other times Paul describes us as "sojourners" which are people who are just passing through a location as they travel to their final destination. And as he describes how we ought to live among unbelievers he tells us, "our citizenship is in heaven" (Philippians 3:20), which is to say that we belong to another country with another law and code and another way of life. Even these frail and flawed bodies are described as "tents"; temporary dwellings which we will one day cast aside as we are given our eternal and glorified bodies.
I hope you will be there on that day. It makes all the difference even in this life.
Now as I settle back into my comfortable living space and my wonderful community, into this place that I call "home", I can know that even this feeling of coming home is just a shadow of what I will experience on that great and glorious day when I meet my Savior face to face and he tells me, "welcome home."
That is how many miles I have driven in the last nine days. I just got back from a trip home to visit family and friends. It was a week of fun, work, parties, and shenanigans. Oh, and lots of babies. Babies are the new trend. Babies and Pokemon Go. Who knew?!
The weird thing about returning to your hometown, where your family still lives in the same house and most of your friends from the area are still there, is that it feels like home. So, I went home for a visit, but when the visit was over I came back home. How does that work?
I've encountered this phenomenon before. I call it the home-away-from-home complex. No, the land-of-Oz syndrome. That's not it either. How about time-share mentality? Okay, I don't know what to call it, but the crux of the matter is that you live with a sense of having multiple homes. Researchers have yet to discover how this phenomena occurs (says the guy who has done zero research to see if that is even true), but I have a few theories.
My first theory is the spacial imprint theory. The basic idea is that because of various life experiences a location becomes emotionally imprinted on your brain in a way that draws you back time and again. These "home" locations are the geographical stages of primarily fond or formative moments in life. Some times these places take years to imprint while others take only a moment. I even have friends who have visited other countries for a couple days yet created such fond memories that they continue to live the rest of their lives feeling as though a part of them is meant to go back. Then there are those unfortunate few who, because of life circumstances, are never given the opportunity to develop a fond connection with any location. They go about their lives with no point of connection, and no sense of permanence or home.
Under this theory the sense of multiple homes can be compared to possessing multiple real estate investments. You have your modest house in the suburbs, your beach home in Santa Cruz, and your penthouse in Manhattan. They are all yours even though you are not always at each location.
My second theory involves parallel dimensions, string theory, and a quasi deja vu sixth sense. I won't go into that here.
My final stab in the dark is the relational connection theory. This hypothesis suggests that it is not the location at all, but the people who make a place feel like home. Similar to the spacial imprint theory, the relational connections are formed through positive or formative experiences. Family tends to be a common theme when defining home because in most situations people are surrounded by family (parents, siblings, cousins, etc.) through many of the most formative years of life. For some people home is defined by friends because those are the people with whom they connected during those pleasant and important moments.
The great thing about this theory is that "home" can be anywhere. It can be confusing and frustrating at times because you can't visit all of "home" in one summer (not on a music teacher's budget anyway). However, "home" eventually comes around to a beautiful conflux of family and friends when we all gather together around the throne of God to praise and adore him. You see, no matter how many "homes" I develop on this world, I will never truly feel as though I have come home until that day when I see my Lord and King and kneel before his throne lifting my voice in worship to the one who created me, rescued me, and gave me eternal life. That is my real home.
Paul reminds us of where we belong when he says, "you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God" (Ephesians 2:19). At other times Paul describes us as "sojourners" which are people who are just passing through a location as they travel to their final destination. And as he describes how we ought to live among unbelievers he tells us, "our citizenship is in heaven" (Philippians 3:20), which is to say that we belong to another country with another law and code and another way of life. Even these frail and flawed bodies are described as "tents"; temporary dwellings which we will one day cast aside as we are given our eternal and glorified bodies.
I hope you will be there on that day. It makes all the difference even in this life.
Now as I settle back into my comfortable living space and my wonderful community, into this place that I call "home", I can know that even this feeling of coming home is just a shadow of what I will experience on that great and glorious day when I meet my Savior face to face and he tells me, "welcome home."
Sunday, July 03, 2016
Complaining Is Not the Answer; It's the Problem
I like to learn new things. New experiences and especially new skills are high on my list of interests. When given an opportunity to learn a new skill that has potential future value, I am almost certain to jump at it. That is why I was more than willing to join the construction crew on my principal's house.
I've had my hand in a few remodeling and construction endeavors over the years. Yet, there is always more to learn, and--so long as I am paying attention--I can only improve with practice. So of course I said yes. After spending nine months in a classroom doing musical calisthenics (because I am convinced that my students think I'm waving my arms around for my health) I need a change of pace and a new challenge.
And that brings me to where I am today, one month into the project and...holding a bad attitude.
Where did that come from?!
It's hard to say exactly how these grubby worms of internal nastiness come to exist, but there comes a time when your can of worms spills over into a five gallon bucket that everyone can smell. I must admit that when I think back on the proceedings of the last two months I can easily trace the origins and maturation of these negative emotions. Even before we started the project I was looking forward to being done. Yes, I want the work. Yes, I want the experience. However, there are a number of other things I want to be able to focus my time and energy on right now and in the future. Even the faint whispers of other opportunities and projects gives rise to a revolt inside my mind. If there is something else that I want to be doing but I can't do at this time, a part of me will probably blame whatever it is that I am actually doing. Some times it makes sense; not always. But it's too late. The water has been poisoned, and my attitude is in jeopardy.
Next thing you know I start making comments; little statements of discontent; small grumblings. Any talk of extending the wait or any additional inconvenience becomes a mounting catastrophe; an insurmountable injustice.
Now, I know that there are many of you who will not understand this progression of frustration because you don't live in the same world as me. You don't walk through life with the same cares and concerns. And that is just fine. We each have our own burdens to bear. But I know that I am not alone in this. I have met others with similar personalities and common struggles. Additionally, Paul makes it rather clear that there are others like me when he tells us to knock it off:
Are there legitimate things to complain about? Absolutely. There are plenty of real issues involving actual injustices and moral degradation. Yet even in these areas there are appropriate and inappropriate ways to air these grievances. But if I allow my life to become a continual rant on the minor irritations of my ever-so-important life, I will not shine the light of God's truth, love, and life in this dark, complaining world.
The fact of the matter is, I know from whence most of these complaints come. They do not come from God. There is another force at work in our world, and he wants us to keep our focus on ourselves. He wants us to develop a mentality wherein we are the most important element of our universe, and our individual desires and comforts are to be the top priority. Jesus also tells us that this other force is out for three things: to steal, kill, and destroy. By encouraging our complaining he effective steals our joy; he kills our eternal life which is found by abiding in God; and he destroys our hope of finding true satisfaction, peace, and purpose in God. By instigating a campaign to improve our own lives, Satan sets us on a course to ruin our own lives.
What makes it worse is that it doesn't stop with me. Complaining is contagious. When we are in an atmosphere of grumbling it can be very hard to keep from grumbling ourselves. I witnessed this first-hand at camp. I was a part of a college-age summer staff wherein we all signed up to serve knowing full well that it involved a lot of hard and dirty work (think 50 toilets weekly and you might begin to understand a portion of the challenge). Within three weeks our summer staff community had already developed a blatantly verbalized distaste for all work that involved restrooms, dish rooms, vacuums, bedrooms, and actually waking up in the morning. We complained about it, and we commiserated over it, and we made ourselves miserable.
Somewhere around week five I finally had a revelation. Didn't I sign up for this? I've done this before and chose to come back for another summer of this exact work. I wanted to come here to serve. Why am I complaining about having to serve? It wasn't easy to change my gut reactions and my perspectives on the work with all the negative talk around me, but I was able to salvage much of the summer. More importantly, I was able to serve with a willing heart and even enjoy it.
So here I am, a month into the summer, doing work that I wanted to do, and I find myself complaining.
God, I need your help to shift my attitude. Help me to seek to serve you in all that I do. Help me to rejoice in you always. Help me to live a life of gratitude in all situations. And help me to share your joy, peace, life, and hope with others as I work.
I've had my hand in a few remodeling and construction endeavors over the years. Yet, there is always more to learn, and--so long as I am paying attention--I can only improve with practice. So of course I said yes. After spending nine months in a classroom doing musical calisthenics (because I am convinced that my students think I'm waving my arms around for my health) I need a change of pace and a new challenge.
And that brings me to where I am today, one month into the project and...holding a bad attitude.
Where did that come from?!
It's hard to say exactly how these grubby worms of internal nastiness come to exist, but there comes a time when your can of worms spills over into a five gallon bucket that everyone can smell. I must admit that when I think back on the proceedings of the last two months I can easily trace the origins and maturation of these negative emotions. Even before we started the project I was looking forward to being done. Yes, I want the work. Yes, I want the experience. However, there are a number of other things I want to be able to focus my time and energy on right now and in the future. Even the faint whispers of other opportunities and projects gives rise to a revolt inside my mind. If there is something else that I want to be doing but I can't do at this time, a part of me will probably blame whatever it is that I am actually doing. Some times it makes sense; not always. But it's too late. The water has been poisoned, and my attitude is in jeopardy.
Next thing you know I start making comments; little statements of discontent; small grumblings. Any talk of extending the wait or any additional inconvenience becomes a mounting catastrophe; an insurmountable injustice.
Now, I know that there are many of you who will not understand this progression of frustration because you don't live in the same world as me. You don't walk through life with the same cares and concerns. And that is just fine. We each have our own burdens to bear. But I know that I am not alone in this. I have met others with similar personalities and common struggles. Additionally, Paul makes it rather clear that there are others like me when he tells us to knock it off:
"Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world." (Philippians 2:14-15)You don't have to scroll very far through your facebook feed to find some complaint about something. My job is too hard. My family isn't fair. Our government is wrong about this issue. I don't like my hair. McDonalds put pickles on my burger! If I am going to shine in this world, if I am to stand out from the crowd in a positive way, I must take control of my complaints.
Are there legitimate things to complain about? Absolutely. There are plenty of real issues involving actual injustices and moral degradation. Yet even in these areas there are appropriate and inappropriate ways to air these grievances. But if I allow my life to become a continual rant on the minor irritations of my ever-so-important life, I will not shine the light of God's truth, love, and life in this dark, complaining world.
The fact of the matter is, I know from whence most of these complaints come. They do not come from God. There is another force at work in our world, and he wants us to keep our focus on ourselves. He wants us to develop a mentality wherein we are the most important element of our universe, and our individual desires and comforts are to be the top priority. Jesus also tells us that this other force is out for three things: to steal, kill, and destroy. By encouraging our complaining he effective steals our joy; he kills our eternal life which is found by abiding in God; and he destroys our hope of finding true satisfaction, peace, and purpose in God. By instigating a campaign to improve our own lives, Satan sets us on a course to ruin our own lives.
What makes it worse is that it doesn't stop with me. Complaining is contagious. When we are in an atmosphere of grumbling it can be very hard to keep from grumbling ourselves. I witnessed this first-hand at camp. I was a part of a college-age summer staff wherein we all signed up to serve knowing full well that it involved a lot of hard and dirty work (think 50 toilets weekly and you might begin to understand a portion of the challenge). Within three weeks our summer staff community had already developed a blatantly verbalized distaste for all work that involved restrooms, dish rooms, vacuums, bedrooms, and actually waking up in the morning. We complained about it, and we commiserated over it, and we made ourselves miserable.
Somewhere around week five I finally had a revelation. Didn't I sign up for this? I've done this before and chose to come back for another summer of this exact work. I wanted to come here to serve. Why am I complaining about having to serve? It wasn't easy to change my gut reactions and my perspectives on the work with all the negative talk around me, but I was able to salvage much of the summer. More importantly, I was able to serve with a willing heart and even enjoy it.
So here I am, a month into the summer, doing work that I wanted to do, and I find myself complaining.
God, I need your help to shift my attitude. Help me to seek to serve you in all that I do. Help me to rejoice in you always. Help me to live a life of gratitude in all situations. And help me to share your joy, peace, life, and hope with others as I work.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
When the Storms Cause Worry
As some of you may know, for about nine months out of the year I am an educational facilitator of the acoustic arts...I'm a music teacher. When the summer hours arrive I usually turn into something completely different. I am kind of like Jarod from The Pretender (a great show from the late 90's). Okay, maybe not quite, but I have found the opportunity to try my hand at a number of skills and occupations over the years. This summer I have entered the realm of finish carpentry while helping to construct a pseudo log house. The last three weeks have been filled with minor electrical work, building a monstrous staircase, ceiling work, and most recently installing hard-wood floors. This house has more wood than a small forest. It's like you're living in a giant, splotchy tree.
I worked on the same house two summers ago (yes, this house has been in process for the last many summers. That's what happens when teachers are building gigantic tree houses). Two years go we were working on the exterior siding, finishing the roof, and framing the wrap-around porch. It was a lot of work, a lot of heavy lifting, and a lot of hot, summer days on that roof. Today, as I was driving past the construction site on my way to church, I was shocked to find that an entire section of the porch roof had been ripped off and blown away by the storm two nights prior. There in the midst of the great, green, tin, monstrosity was a gaping hole.
In that moment I was struck by two emotional thoughts:
My work has been ripped apart by the brutal and unfeeling savagery of the Montana wilderness. What is the point in all this work if it can be so easily undone in one evening?
and,
Now look at all the work we have to do. We are never going to finish this house. I don't want to go back up on that roof.
Yes, I can become a cynic and a whiner rather abruptly given the right circumstances. I arrived at church in a state of shock and suddenly did not feel like being there. A number of people commented on the destruction because they knew of my connection with the construction and it was a readily available topic for conversation. I don't blame them, but it wasn't exactly pleasant to repeatedly field the question, "So, you have a little extra work to do on the house now, eh?" Yes. Yes, there is more work now.
Everything was building up these feelings of frustration and concern over the completion of this mammoth project. Then I went to Sunday School.
The passage we were discussing this morning was Matthew 6:25-34. These are the words of Jesus in the middle of his sermon "on the mount" where he instructs us not to worry about what we will eat or what we will have to wear. Jesus tells us that God looks after the birds and the flowers, so of course he will look after us. Rather than worry, he tells us to seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and the rest will be taken care of.
It was the most interactive Sunday school class I have ever witnessed since I have lived here. As the teacher opened up the discussion for the topic of worry I was surrounded by farmers who were dealing with all the crop damage that the storm caused. This storm wasn't the first to come our way this season either. It seems as though every two to four days we get another storm that drops hail on fields in the area. Here were all these people talking about faith in the midst of worry while dealing with great losses to their very livelihood. I, on the other hand, was worried about a summer project. I technically don't even need the money. It helps, but I could live on my teaching wages through the summer months.
It was as if God was grabbing hold of me and trying to snap me back into his reality.
Michael, this isn't even a matter of food or clothes for you. Why are you so worried by this? Don't you trust that I have this all in my hand and in my plan? Yes, God. I know you are right, and I know you are present in the midst of all these things. Help me to cast all my cares on you, knowing that you care for me.
So there is work to be done, and we will do it. And yes, all of our work, every bit of it, can be destroyed in a moment by any number disasters or calamities be they natural or otherwise. Even when we prepare for every contingency there is always one more that can undo everything that has been done. That is not our problem. Ours is to do the work of God; to seek his kingdom and his righteousness; to do everything to the glory of God and to have faith that he will take care of us as we need.
And so I echo the words of the man who sought Jesus to heal his demon possessed son, "I believe; help my unbelief."
I worked on the same house two summers ago (yes, this house has been in process for the last many summers. That's what happens when teachers are building gigantic tree houses). Two years go we were working on the exterior siding, finishing the roof, and framing the wrap-around porch. It was a lot of work, a lot of heavy lifting, and a lot of hot, summer days on that roof. Today, as I was driving past the construction site on my way to church, I was shocked to find that an entire section of the porch roof had been ripped off and blown away by the storm two nights prior. There in the midst of the great, green, tin, monstrosity was a gaping hole.
In that moment I was struck by two emotional thoughts:
My work has been ripped apart by the brutal and unfeeling savagery of the Montana wilderness. What is the point in all this work if it can be so easily undone in one evening?
and,
Now look at all the work we have to do. We are never going to finish this house. I don't want to go back up on that roof.
Yes, I can become a cynic and a whiner rather abruptly given the right circumstances. I arrived at church in a state of shock and suddenly did not feel like being there. A number of people commented on the destruction because they knew of my connection with the construction and it was a readily available topic for conversation. I don't blame them, but it wasn't exactly pleasant to repeatedly field the question, "So, you have a little extra work to do on the house now, eh?" Yes. Yes, there is more work now.
Everything was building up these feelings of frustration and concern over the completion of this mammoth project. Then I went to Sunday School.
The passage we were discussing this morning was Matthew 6:25-34. These are the words of Jesus in the middle of his sermon "on the mount" where he instructs us not to worry about what we will eat or what we will have to wear. Jesus tells us that God looks after the birds and the flowers, so of course he will look after us. Rather than worry, he tells us to seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and the rest will be taken care of.
It was the most interactive Sunday school class I have ever witnessed since I have lived here. As the teacher opened up the discussion for the topic of worry I was surrounded by farmers who were dealing with all the crop damage that the storm caused. This storm wasn't the first to come our way this season either. It seems as though every two to four days we get another storm that drops hail on fields in the area. Here were all these people talking about faith in the midst of worry while dealing with great losses to their very livelihood. I, on the other hand, was worried about a summer project. I technically don't even need the money. It helps, but I could live on my teaching wages through the summer months.
It was as if God was grabbing hold of me and trying to snap me back into his reality.
Michael, this isn't even a matter of food or clothes for you. Why are you so worried by this? Don't you trust that I have this all in my hand and in my plan? Yes, God. I know you are right, and I know you are present in the midst of all these things. Help me to cast all my cares on you, knowing that you care for me.
So there is work to be done, and we will do it. And yes, all of our work, every bit of it, can be destroyed in a moment by any number disasters or calamities be they natural or otherwise. Even when we prepare for every contingency there is always one more that can undo everything that has been done. That is not our problem. Ours is to do the work of God; to seek his kingdom and his righteousness; to do everything to the glory of God and to have faith that he will take care of us as we need.
And so I echo the words of the man who sought Jesus to heal his demon possessed son, "I believe; help my unbelief."
Sunday, June 19, 2016
You Are Not Alone
I survived my first 10K!
A part of me wants to say, "I survived my LAST 10K!" But while that could be true, and I have no intentions of running another, I do not have the power to predict the future. Considering all the variables that go into making crazy and sometimes life changing decisions, it is only fair to recognize that there are a few (very few but still existent) combinations of variables that would result in the repeated occurrence of me running a 10K...Just not any time soon.
It really wasn't a bad experience. The weather was perfect. I had trained sufficiently so that I was able to maintain confidence in my ability to finish all the way to the end. Running with other people also made it more interesting. Here are my observations.
Running with others is motivating. I spent the first two miles running along side a young guy I had just met on the shuttle ride to the starting line. I wasn't trying to race him, but I also didn't want to fall behind. Just keeping up was enough encouragement to push myself forward. After the two-mile mark he dropped back and I was left to run the next three mile loop on my own. No worries. In the words of Joe Banks, "some doors you just have to go through alone." That's life. And all my training had been solo runs anyway. So onward I went.
As I began to near the turnaround point of the loop, other runners started passing me going the other direction. Here I made a decision. I'm not in this for the win, so I might as well have fun and encourage others. I gave a thumbs-up to every runner I passed as a small way of saying, "we've made it this far. You can do this." Since every runner loops back on this mile-and-a-half stretch, I gave a thumbs-up to every single one of them...but not all of them noticed.
Most of the other runners saw my sign of encouragement and reciprocated the sentiment in some form. But there were still a few who probably didn't even know it was happening. I could have been offended--that seems to be a popular response in our society these days--but instead it just made me sad. I wasn't sad that they didn't notice me. I was sad that they missed out on a potentially encouraging and motivating moment in the midst of their trial.
How did that happen? Why did they miss it? The common factor in each instance was the intensity of their focus. Each and every one of them was so singularly focused on the road in front of them and the goal ahead (or the music in their headphones) that they missed out on the comradery and community around them. They could not be encouraged because all they could see was the trial. That is just what the enemy wants.
Don't get me wrong. Focus and perseverance are very important in both running and life. When we don't have focus we end up all over the place and we find ourselves giving up long before the race is done. If we are going to persevere--which we are called to do repeatedly in scripture--we must keep our focus on the goal. However, like all good things, our enemy has twisted that focus and caused us to believe that if we are to persevere, we must focus on our trial. As I recall, that didn't work out so well for Peter.
When Jesus came walking out to the boat in the middle of the lake during an intense storm Peter decided he was going to join Jesus. He said, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." And Jesus did. Peter steps out of the boat with the intention of walking to Jesus, and as a result Peter walked on water. "But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, 'Lord, save me.'" Peter lost sight of the goal and focused on the trial. Those are the moments when fear and doubt slip in and we begin to sink.
We think that by focusing on the trial we will be able to navigate it and overcome it. We need to focus on the problem in order to find a solution. Yet in our attempts to find our own solutions we miss out on the solutions and comforts that God provides. We find ourselves floundering in the storms of life trying to convince Jesus that we will come to him just as soon as we get this situation all sorted out.
Often we look at this passage and think, "Peter blew it again. What a dunce. He just can't seem to figure this whole faith thing out." But I have to give Peter some credit. Yes, he lost sight of the goal and took his eyes off Jesus. Yes, he allowed himself to be distracted by the storm. Yet when he found himself sinking, he didn't try to swim for the boat. He didn't try to find his own way out. Peter's first response was turning to Jesus. "Lord, save me." It is a simple prayer, and one that we ought to use far more often instead of trying to find our own solutions. Peter sought Jesus in the midst of his trial, "Lord, save me." And what was Jesus' response? "I'm going to let you flop around for a while to make sure you learn your lesson, you dunce." NO! Matthew tells us, "Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him" (emphasis added). If you want to know how the story ends, you can find it in the gospel of Matthew in chapter 14.
Back to my run. When we focus on our trials we can miss out on God's provisions. One of the greatest ways God has provided for us is by giving us each other. We were not designed to run this race on our own. From the very beginning God knew that it was not good for man to be alone. And from the very beginning our enemy has been trying to separate us, divide us, and get us alone because we are easier to discourage, demoralize, and devour when we do not have the support of the body of Christ to remind us who we are and whose we are.
The race is long, and the race is hard. But yesterday I discovered that the race is more bearable, more enjoyable, and even more successful when we run it together. So let us look for ways to run with others, to encourage others in the race. And let us be open and ready to receive encouragement from others as we fix our eyes on the goal; a goal which includes community.
A part of me wants to say, "I survived my LAST 10K!" But while that could be true, and I have no intentions of running another, I do not have the power to predict the future. Considering all the variables that go into making crazy and sometimes life changing decisions, it is only fair to recognize that there are a few (very few but still existent) combinations of variables that would result in the repeated occurrence of me running a 10K...Just not any time soon.
It really wasn't a bad experience. The weather was perfect. I had trained sufficiently so that I was able to maintain confidence in my ability to finish all the way to the end. Running with other people also made it more interesting. Here are my observations.
Running with others is motivating. I spent the first two miles running along side a young guy I had just met on the shuttle ride to the starting line. I wasn't trying to race him, but I also didn't want to fall behind. Just keeping up was enough encouragement to push myself forward. After the two-mile mark he dropped back and I was left to run the next three mile loop on my own. No worries. In the words of Joe Banks, "some doors you just have to go through alone." That's life. And all my training had been solo runs anyway. So onward I went.
As I began to near the turnaround point of the loop, other runners started passing me going the other direction. Here I made a decision. I'm not in this for the win, so I might as well have fun and encourage others. I gave a thumbs-up to every runner I passed as a small way of saying, "we've made it this far. You can do this." Since every runner loops back on this mile-and-a-half stretch, I gave a thumbs-up to every single one of them...but not all of them noticed.
Most of the other runners saw my sign of encouragement and reciprocated the sentiment in some form. But there were still a few who probably didn't even know it was happening. I could have been offended--that seems to be a popular response in our society these days--but instead it just made me sad. I wasn't sad that they didn't notice me. I was sad that they missed out on a potentially encouraging and motivating moment in the midst of their trial.
How did that happen? Why did they miss it? The common factor in each instance was the intensity of their focus. Each and every one of them was so singularly focused on the road in front of them and the goal ahead (or the music in their headphones) that they missed out on the comradery and community around them. They could not be encouraged because all they could see was the trial. That is just what the enemy wants.
Don't get me wrong. Focus and perseverance are very important in both running and life. When we don't have focus we end up all over the place and we find ourselves giving up long before the race is done. If we are going to persevere--which we are called to do repeatedly in scripture--we must keep our focus on the goal. However, like all good things, our enemy has twisted that focus and caused us to believe that if we are to persevere, we must focus on our trial. As I recall, that didn't work out so well for Peter.
When Jesus came walking out to the boat in the middle of the lake during an intense storm Peter decided he was going to join Jesus. He said, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." And Jesus did. Peter steps out of the boat with the intention of walking to Jesus, and as a result Peter walked on water. "But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, 'Lord, save me.'" Peter lost sight of the goal and focused on the trial. Those are the moments when fear and doubt slip in and we begin to sink.
We think that by focusing on the trial we will be able to navigate it and overcome it. We need to focus on the problem in order to find a solution. Yet in our attempts to find our own solutions we miss out on the solutions and comforts that God provides. We find ourselves floundering in the storms of life trying to convince Jesus that we will come to him just as soon as we get this situation all sorted out.
Often we look at this passage and think, "Peter blew it again. What a dunce. He just can't seem to figure this whole faith thing out." But I have to give Peter some credit. Yes, he lost sight of the goal and took his eyes off Jesus. Yes, he allowed himself to be distracted by the storm. Yet when he found himself sinking, he didn't try to swim for the boat. He didn't try to find his own way out. Peter's first response was turning to Jesus. "Lord, save me." It is a simple prayer, and one that we ought to use far more often instead of trying to find our own solutions. Peter sought Jesus in the midst of his trial, "Lord, save me." And what was Jesus' response? "I'm going to let you flop around for a while to make sure you learn your lesson, you dunce." NO! Matthew tells us, "Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him" (emphasis added). If you want to know how the story ends, you can find it in the gospel of Matthew in chapter 14.
Back to my run. When we focus on our trials we can miss out on God's provisions. One of the greatest ways God has provided for us is by giving us each other. We were not designed to run this race on our own. From the very beginning God knew that it was not good for man to be alone. And from the very beginning our enemy has been trying to separate us, divide us, and get us alone because we are easier to discourage, demoralize, and devour when we do not have the support of the body of Christ to remind us who we are and whose we are.
The race is long, and the race is hard. But yesterday I discovered that the race is more bearable, more enjoyable, and even more successful when we run it together. So let us look for ways to run with others, to encourage others in the race. And let us be open and ready to receive encouragement from others as we fix our eyes on the goal; a goal which includes community.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Praising God in the Middle of the Race
The day is almost here, folks. I am one week out from running the local 10K. The only part I am looking forward to is the finish line. How magnificent will it feel to be done. I am not looking forward to all the running I am planning on doing in this next week, but no discipline seems pleasant at the time, right? Even the thought of the finish line brings forth a majestic chorus of "praise God from whom all blessings flow..."
Actually, as much as I haven't enjoyed my runs, they have produced a lot of praising God for all the little blessings. It goes a little something like this.
The far end of the road approaches, and you brace yourself for the apparent inevitability of losing even the faint whiff of air as you turn around to join the breeze in its southerly expedition. But wait. What's this? Is it possible you miscalculated the wind's trajectory? By what other means could this fresh and heavenly zephyr be explained? Your exhausted body tingles with delight and your weary soul rejoices as with a celestial choir. Praise God from whom ALL blessings flow. Praise Him for breezes here below. Praise Him though you have blist'ry toes. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
But seriously, why is it that we must periodically be put through difficult, frustrating, and seemingly impossible circumstances before we will acknowledge the little blessings in life. We are told repeatedly in the Bible that we are to be thankful people. There are even some pretty serious consequences for people who will not give God his due in thankfulness for his blessings. The sun shines, the rains fall, and even the breezes blow on the righteous and the wicked alike. The righteous thank God for the warmth of the sun, the nourishment of the rain, and the refreshment of the wind. At the same time the wicked either act as if it is their due, or they grumble that it is too hot, too wet, and it is messing up their hair.
All too often I can find myself falling into the habit of complaining. I may be running the race and persevering in discipline, but I am not enjoying it and I will make my grievances known. Why does the sun have to be so hot? Why can't there be even a hopeful shady cloud in the sky? Why must there be a decided lack of wind? I even come to the point of cynicism wherein I assume that the next turn in the road will mean the end of all refreshment I might have experienced thus far. The worst part is that a small piece of my heart begins to blame God. "You knew I was going for a run. You knew it was going to be a long, arduous, and hot day. Why have YOU abandoned me to this windless misery?"
Truly, one of the greatest blessings of all is that God is still patient with me. When I think of how Job blamed God for afflicting a righteous man such as himself, and how God thoroughly put Job in his place as he responded to Job "out of the storm," I am amazed and humbled and baffled as to why God wouldn't just knock me upside the head for my petty complaints. Instead, he decided to give me a refreshing breeze. It's as if he was saying, "Michael, I know it is hard. I know you don't like it. I know that it seems as if everything is stacked against you. But I am not here to torment you. I may test you for a season, and I may permit the enemy to sift you for a time. But I am always with you. I may not bring you instantly and painlessly to the finish line, but I will give you what you need to make it to the end, and I will run the race with you."
And so, not simply for the refreshment, but especially for the encouragement and the promise, I lift my heart to God in praise.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, you creatures here below.
Praise Him above, you heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.
Actually, as much as I haven't enjoyed my runs, they have produced a lot of praising God for all the little blessings. It goes a little something like this.
It's the end of a full day of work. You just installed a massive log staircase in a massive log(-looking) house. It is 89.5º F in the shade. For some reason--probably due to mental instability caused by being dropped on your head as an infant, because what else could it possibly be--you insist on running six miles in the glaring sun. And so you begin.
The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The gravel roads are searing hot. Even the roadkill you pass after the first mile-and-a-half smells like perfectly smoked southern BBQ (which makes me wonder where they get their meat for BBQ in the south). The rout isn't complicated. You're heading down a three-mile road and planning on an immediate return trip. By mile two you have taken stock of your surroundings and it feels as though the only circulation of air is an ever so faint northwesterly breeze, if it can even be called that. It is hot, you are tired, but you're insane, so you keep going with not a single hope of finding any relief in your journey.
But seriously, why is it that we must periodically be put through difficult, frustrating, and seemingly impossible circumstances before we will acknowledge the little blessings in life. We are told repeatedly in the Bible that we are to be thankful people. There are even some pretty serious consequences for people who will not give God his due in thankfulness for his blessings. The sun shines, the rains fall, and even the breezes blow on the righteous and the wicked alike. The righteous thank God for the warmth of the sun, the nourishment of the rain, and the refreshment of the wind. At the same time the wicked either act as if it is their due, or they grumble that it is too hot, too wet, and it is messing up their hair.
All too often I can find myself falling into the habit of complaining. I may be running the race and persevering in discipline, but I am not enjoying it and I will make my grievances known. Why does the sun have to be so hot? Why can't there be even a hopeful shady cloud in the sky? Why must there be a decided lack of wind? I even come to the point of cynicism wherein I assume that the next turn in the road will mean the end of all refreshment I might have experienced thus far. The worst part is that a small piece of my heart begins to blame God. "You knew I was going for a run. You knew it was going to be a long, arduous, and hot day. Why have YOU abandoned me to this windless misery?"
Truly, one of the greatest blessings of all is that God is still patient with me. When I think of how Job blamed God for afflicting a righteous man such as himself, and how God thoroughly put Job in his place as he responded to Job "out of the storm," I am amazed and humbled and baffled as to why God wouldn't just knock me upside the head for my petty complaints. Instead, he decided to give me a refreshing breeze. It's as if he was saying, "Michael, I know it is hard. I know you don't like it. I know that it seems as if everything is stacked against you. But I am not here to torment you. I may test you for a season, and I may permit the enemy to sift you for a time. But I am always with you. I may not bring you instantly and painlessly to the finish line, but I will give you what you need to make it to the end, and I will run the race with you."
And so, not simply for the refreshment, but especially for the encouragement and the promise, I lift my heart to God in praise.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, you creatures here below.
Praise Him above, you heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.
Saturday, June 04, 2016
What's Buggin' You?
It's that time of year again. The birds are singing. The flowers are blooming. The flies are pestering. Mosquitoes are the worst offenders. I seem to be one of those people whom mosquitoes find to be a delectable entree. This trait is not at all pleasant for me, but it is a marketable feature on the dating scene. "Want to go for a walk on this delightful summer evening? I promise the mosquitoes won't bother you a bit. They will be too busy feasting on my blood." How romantic.
But the mosquitoes aren't the only pests out there. The air is swarming with a plethora of winged beasts scouring the world over with their compound eyes seeking all whom they may devour. Just today I encountered a house fly in the window above the door to my apartment.
I was on my way out to enjoy a leisurely stroll in the summer sun when I heard the tell-tale buzz of an insect trying to fly through glass. You probably know the sound of which I speak. Zzzz......Zz...Zzzzzzzzzz. There is no doubt in my mind that I will encounter this aural oddity numerous times over the next five or six months.
As I said before, the fly was positioned on the window above my door. As a logical, problem-solving human, I would think that once the door was opened, the breeze was felt, and the unmistakable odors of the out-doors was perceived that the fly would quickly find his way to the opening and meet his freedom. As an experienced, pattern-observing human, I know that the chances of that fly dropping down into the doorway were slim to none. The fly is so focused on the image out the window that he cannot fathom another portal through which he might obtain such a dream. He is set and determined to achieve his vision by transport through that window. In the mean time he misses his chance at true freedom as I open the door to head out for my walk.
I don't know about you, but I can be an awful lot like a dumb fly.
We live in a world of counterfeits. Each and every one of us has been loaded up with dreams and desires. In and of themselves these desires are not at all bad. In fact they are meant to be quite good when they drive us to the appropriate source of satisfaction. But we are a microwave people. We want results, and we want them yesterday. When I'm hungry I want food. Even if I know that I have a lavish, three-course meal of all my favorite foods (yes, I only have three favorites...okay, maybe not) waiting for me at home, I still might eat a package of nutter butters, a snickers bar, and a dr. pepper from the vending machine because I am hungry NOW! Do I even think about the fact that this pseudo meal will ruin my appetite for the wonderful feast that awaits me? Maybe. Maybe not. If I were to think about it, I would probably just go for the snickers bar--because I'm not myself when I'm hungry (that's effective advertising right there).
Ultimately the problem is in me. I feel a desire and I see an immediate solution. Tunnel vision takes over. Yes, there might be better solutions, but this one is right in front of me. It looks so good. The job is perfect. My friends will think I'm cool. She is just so gorgeous. My parents will finally approve of me. I'll be able to do whatever I want. All we see is our desires being satisfied, and that is how the car-salesman gets us.
It's a classic bait-and-switch. He tells us everything we want to hear about how this is the car that will solve all our problems. These are the features that will make driving under any conditions seem like a trip to the Bahamas. It's a dream come true. Then, somewhere along the line, you find out that what you actual purchased was a trip to the Bermuda Triangle. We are promised so much, but we slowly find out that we are given very little.
The only reason we focus on and pursue those ideas and dreams and desires is to achieve some form of satisfaction. What we actually achieve is more emptiness. We find ourselves not satisfied, but even more hungry and hurting. But it did feel kinda good at the moment, right? So maybe if I try it again, that will be enough. And so we continue to buzz at the same window over and over, gazing into a dream world that we cannot reach.
But we can. It's not the world we see through the distorted window that we need. The world that we truly desire is found through the open door right next to us. As I said before, our desires and dreams are not bad. They are wired into us so that they will draw us to the true source of satisfaction. Often times finding true satisfaction means setting aside the opportunities for instant gratification so that we can focus and move forward in the path of righteousness that God has set before us; a path that leads to our most complete fulfillment. Sometimes it means laying down our dreams at the feet of God so that he can fill us with his dream.
If, however, we cannot offer our dreams and our desires to God for him to fulfill, if we will not pull our gaze away from the distorted window that never satisfies, we will end up like so many flies before us, a lifeless carapace in a dusty windowsill.
But the mosquitoes aren't the only pests out there. The air is swarming with a plethora of winged beasts scouring the world over with their compound eyes seeking all whom they may devour. Just today I encountered a house fly in the window above the door to my apartment.
I was on my way out to enjoy a leisurely stroll in the summer sun when I heard the tell-tale buzz of an insect trying to fly through glass. You probably know the sound of which I speak. Zzzz......Zz...Zzzzzzzzzz. There is no doubt in my mind that I will encounter this aural oddity numerous times over the next five or six months.
As I said before, the fly was positioned on the window above my door. As a logical, problem-solving human, I would think that once the door was opened, the breeze was felt, and the unmistakable odors of the out-doors was perceived that the fly would quickly find his way to the opening and meet his freedom. As an experienced, pattern-observing human, I know that the chances of that fly dropping down into the doorway were slim to none. The fly is so focused on the image out the window that he cannot fathom another portal through which he might obtain such a dream. He is set and determined to achieve his vision by transport through that window. In the mean time he misses his chance at true freedom as I open the door to head out for my walk.
I don't know about you, but I can be an awful lot like a dumb fly.
We live in a world of counterfeits. Each and every one of us has been loaded up with dreams and desires. In and of themselves these desires are not at all bad. In fact they are meant to be quite good when they drive us to the appropriate source of satisfaction. But we are a microwave people. We want results, and we want them yesterday. When I'm hungry I want food. Even if I know that I have a lavish, three-course meal of all my favorite foods (yes, I only have three favorites...okay, maybe not) waiting for me at home, I still might eat a package of nutter butters, a snickers bar, and a dr. pepper from the vending machine because I am hungry NOW! Do I even think about the fact that this pseudo meal will ruin my appetite for the wonderful feast that awaits me? Maybe. Maybe not. If I were to think about it, I would probably just go for the snickers bar--because I'm not myself when I'm hungry (that's effective advertising right there).
Ultimately the problem is in me. I feel a desire and I see an immediate solution. Tunnel vision takes over. Yes, there might be better solutions, but this one is right in front of me. It looks so good. The job is perfect. My friends will think I'm cool. She is just so gorgeous. My parents will finally approve of me. I'll be able to do whatever I want. All we see is our desires being satisfied, and that is how the car-salesman gets us.
It's a classic bait-and-switch. He tells us everything we want to hear about how this is the car that will solve all our problems. These are the features that will make driving under any conditions seem like a trip to the Bahamas. It's a dream come true. Then, somewhere along the line, you find out that what you actual purchased was a trip to the Bermuda Triangle. We are promised so much, but we slowly find out that we are given very little.
The only reason we focus on and pursue those ideas and dreams and desires is to achieve some form of satisfaction. What we actually achieve is more emptiness. We find ourselves not satisfied, but even more hungry and hurting. But it did feel kinda good at the moment, right? So maybe if I try it again, that will be enough. And so we continue to buzz at the same window over and over, gazing into a dream world that we cannot reach.
But we can. It's not the world we see through the distorted window that we need. The world that we truly desire is found through the open door right next to us. As I said before, our desires and dreams are not bad. They are wired into us so that they will draw us to the true source of satisfaction. Often times finding true satisfaction means setting aside the opportunities for instant gratification so that we can focus and move forward in the path of righteousness that God has set before us; a path that leads to our most complete fulfillment. Sometimes it means laying down our dreams at the feet of God so that he can fill us with his dream.
If, however, we cannot offer our dreams and our desires to God for him to fulfill, if we will not pull our gaze away from the distorted window that never satisfies, we will end up like so many flies before us, a lifeless carapace in a dusty windowsill.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Runners Remorse
Hey look, two posts in as many weeks. Three weeks from now I'll look at this post and give myself a well-deserved face-palm for not posting again in all that time. (I say that to call myself out before I drop the ball in hopes of goading myself into staying on top of things.)
I'm trying to push myself in a number of ways this summer. Over the last year I have been challenging myself to exercise on a semi-regular basis. A large portion of that exercise has been running. At the start of the year (I tend to think and speak in school years since that is really the only year that actually matters in my life) I was warming up with a little over a half mile. Before too long I had eased myself--as if any of this was easy--into a regular three mile warm up almost every time.
It's hard to push yourself without some kind of goal. Eventually I began considering the local run that takes place in June. I didn't know how long it was, but at least I would have something to work toward. So, here I am looking at the possibility of running 6.2 miles by the middle of June (that's 10 Kilometers for all you actual runners). In the process of preparing for this eventuality two weeks ago I took advantage of some great weather and hit the gravel roads for about five miles on two separate days. This is what I learned.
I still don't enjoy running. For years I've heard runners talk about how great running is, how freeing and relaxing it can be, how wonderful the endorphin kick makes you feel. Well, I'm here to tell you that endorphins lie. Do you know what endorphins are meant to do? They raise your pain threshold. So while you are out there struggling to push your physical limits your endorphins are whispering to your brain, "pay no attention to that dull throb in your legs and the heaving pain in your chest and gut. What's that? Your hands are going numb? I'm sure it's nothing. Just keep going. You'll be fine." LIARS! An hour or two later when the endorphins have retired for the day, your body suddenly starts to feel that pain threshold drop really fast.
Okay, maybe I'm being a bit over dramatic. Although it is pretty much true for the first few times you exercise any group of muscles. After a while the let down isn't quite so painful.
I'll admit that I like the idea of being able to run for miles on end. I like to be able to say that I ran three of four miles. I like knowing that I am in shape to some degree. But I still don't enjoy running. Give me a swimming pool and I'll swim laps any day over running.
The second thing I learned came to me in the first half mile of my second five mile run. As I was jogging along thinking about all the ups and downs of the road and imagining the far off point where I would eventually turn around and begin my return trip, the following thought popped in my head:
Couldn't that turnaround point show up a little sooner? I'm already out here putting in the effort. Shouldn't that be enough? Why should it take forty or fifty minutes. Haven't I put in enough work this year to make this go faster?
If only that was how life really worked. So many things in my life would be totally different right now if the results arrived immediately after the initial effort. How many times have I turned to God to hand over areas of my life to him and expected him to generate changes in those areas within the week, month, or even year. There have been times when those changes have taken place within what I would consider a reasonable or even expedited time frame. But there are so many other areas where I am still waiting, praying, and hoping for God to do something with it. Come on! I'm putting in the effort. I'm out here running the race. Shouldn't that be enough? Can't you see how committed I am and just move the finish line a little closer?
But that is not how running works, and that is not how God works. God knows how far away the finish line is set. He knows that anyone can start a race, though many choose not to (something I am tempted to choose every time I start a run). He knows that the best prize is not for those who put in a great start, but for those who persevere to a humbling finish. That is why, as much as I may at times wish that God would honor my initial effort, my greatest aim is to honor him with my continued and completed submission and service.
The nice thing about submitting to God is that even though the path is fraught with troubles, pains, and frustrations, he also blesses us with tremendous joys, pleasures, and life along the way. I can't say the same about running because endorphins lie.
I'm trying to push myself in a number of ways this summer. Over the last year I have been challenging myself to exercise on a semi-regular basis. A large portion of that exercise has been running. At the start of the year (I tend to think and speak in school years since that is really the only year that actually matters in my life) I was warming up with a little over a half mile. Before too long I had eased myself--as if any of this was easy--into a regular three mile warm up almost every time.
It's hard to push yourself without some kind of goal. Eventually I began considering the local run that takes place in June. I didn't know how long it was, but at least I would have something to work toward. So, here I am looking at the possibility of running 6.2 miles by the middle of June (that's 10 Kilometers for all you actual runners). In the process of preparing for this eventuality two weeks ago I took advantage of some great weather and hit the gravel roads for about five miles on two separate days. This is what I learned.
I still don't enjoy running. For years I've heard runners talk about how great running is, how freeing and relaxing it can be, how wonderful the endorphin kick makes you feel. Well, I'm here to tell you that endorphins lie. Do you know what endorphins are meant to do? They raise your pain threshold. So while you are out there struggling to push your physical limits your endorphins are whispering to your brain, "pay no attention to that dull throb in your legs and the heaving pain in your chest and gut. What's that? Your hands are going numb? I'm sure it's nothing. Just keep going. You'll be fine." LIARS! An hour or two later when the endorphins have retired for the day, your body suddenly starts to feel that pain threshold drop really fast.
Okay, maybe I'm being a bit over dramatic. Although it is pretty much true for the first few times you exercise any group of muscles. After a while the let down isn't quite so painful.
I'll admit that I like the idea of being able to run for miles on end. I like to be able to say that I ran three of four miles. I like knowing that I am in shape to some degree. But I still don't enjoy running. Give me a swimming pool and I'll swim laps any day over running.
The second thing I learned came to me in the first half mile of my second five mile run. As I was jogging along thinking about all the ups and downs of the road and imagining the far off point where I would eventually turn around and begin my return trip, the following thought popped in my head:
Couldn't that turnaround point show up a little sooner? I'm already out here putting in the effort. Shouldn't that be enough? Why should it take forty or fifty minutes. Haven't I put in enough work this year to make this go faster?
If only that was how life really worked. So many things in my life would be totally different right now if the results arrived immediately after the initial effort. How many times have I turned to God to hand over areas of my life to him and expected him to generate changes in those areas within the week, month, or even year. There have been times when those changes have taken place within what I would consider a reasonable or even expedited time frame. But there are so many other areas where I am still waiting, praying, and hoping for God to do something with it. Come on! I'm putting in the effort. I'm out here running the race. Shouldn't that be enough? Can't you see how committed I am and just move the finish line a little closer?
But that is not how running works, and that is not how God works. God knows how far away the finish line is set. He knows that anyone can start a race, though many choose not to (something I am tempted to choose every time I start a run). He knows that the best prize is not for those who put in a great start, but for those who persevere to a humbling finish. That is why, as much as I may at times wish that God would honor my initial effort, my greatest aim is to honor him with my continued and completed submission and service.
The nice thing about submitting to God is that even though the path is fraught with troubles, pains, and frustrations, he also blesses us with tremendous joys, pleasures, and life along the way. I can't say the same about running because endorphins lie.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Good Mourning
Hold on, let me take care of these cobwebs, dust-bunnies, and...how long has that m&m been sitting there. Yeah, I'm not eating that.
Well, here I am again, hoping that I can fill this space with some regularity. Not that anyone even noticed my lack of verbose pontification.
Coming into the end of this school year I have a few projects lined up for the summer. Along with working on building my principal's house, I have signed up for an online grad-level course to fulfill my re-certification credits. Since I haven't been a student in a class in five years, this could be interesting. I hope I still know how to learn stuff. I also hope to do some composing/arranging to prepare for some big things to happen next school year (be afraid, my students, be very afraid...). Add to that a couple small building projects and hopefully some semblance of a social life, and I should have plenty of time to regularly post here...right? Well, I kind of want to make it a goal anyway.
Today was the graduation of my first freshman class. I have been teaching for four years, so I kind of feel like I graduated today too. Only, just like my own high school graduation, I didn't get to dress up in a funny hat, walk across a stage, and receive a diploma. However, unlike my high school graduation, I will still be here next year. I'm excited about that. I love it here. I love teaching here. I love my students, and I love this community. I am honored to be a part of it. But it is hard to imagine teaching here without those whom I just watched switch their tassels. Over the last week, the last few days, and especially now, I have been in a sort of mourning process over the situation. Because that's what you do when you feel a sense of loss. You mourn.
We don't think about mourning very often because most losses we encounter are minor, or our attachments are small. Certainly we think of mourning when we lose relationships to the eternal transference of death. Over two years ago my tortoise named Digger died. It was the week before Christmas. He had been with me for a grand four months. I wept.
But we don't equate all death with loss. When I hear on the news that Donna Splinsky passed away I might feel a little sorry for her family, but I do not feel a loss. When my students tell me about the passing of their pet cat I offer my condolences and try to console them, but I do not feel the loss. I do not mourn for that which I do not feel loss.
When, however, my old pickup of six years was totaled (not my fault) I felt a loss, and I mourned. When I have completed a summer at camp of working with the same people under stressful conditions for three months and I have to say "good bye" I felt a loss, and I mourned. When my super cool watch of two years that had all the perfect features and even had a black background LCD display finally bit the dust I felt loss, and I mourned.
I did not mourn equally for each of these losses. The loss of great friendships built through shared adversity is much greater than the loss of a watch, or even a pickup (though we had a lot of great memories, that pickup and I). So there is loss, yes, but the loss is not the same. Likewise, the mourning is not the same. In the case of the watch I think it was as simple as, "aww, bummer. I really liked that watch. Now I'll need to get another. Oh well, such is life." Done. For the summer friends the mourning could take days, and even continue to impact my life for weeks.
Whatever the case may be, loss requires mourning. It doesn't have to be super dramatic with dark clothes, unkempt hair, and red, puffy eyes. But when attachments are severed some recognition is necessary.
No one goes through life with the expressed intention of losing things. In fact, we go to great lengths to be sure that we don't have to experience loss. We have safety guidelines and laws to protect our possessions and loved ones. We have drugs, procedures, and life-support systems to prolong life. We have key-chains that beep when we whistle. We don't like losing stuff because it hurts.
The Buddhist solution is to eliminate all attachment in life, because attachment is the cause of suffering. Some sects of Christianity latched on to a similar line of thought. Seeing that attachment to things in this world tended to distract from our attachment to God, a number of Christians sought solitude and poverty.
Yet we have been wired for attachment. Our Creator, God, built us in such a way that we long for, crave, and cannot help but stumble upon attachment to things. He built us to be relational in a deep and meaningful way. He designed us to become attached, first and foremost, to himself; to share a relationship so deep and personal that nothing could replace it. Unfortunately, we tried to replace it, and in doing so we created a rift in the relationship. That is the greatest loss mankind has ever experienced. How could the rift ever be repaired? How could a perfect God ever understand the depth of our loss?
It just so happened that God had a plan to accomplish those very things. God joined us as a man. He lived with us, and walked with us, and then he died for us. But more than that, after living a perfect, sinless life, Jesus died a sinners death. He died the way that each and every one of us deserves to die. BUT MORE THAN THAT, in those moments of agony and suffering of his physical body Jesus experienced an agony of the soul that mankind has known for millennia.
Some believe that Jesus, having taken on himself all the sin of mankind that it could be judged and that we could be justified, in that moment was actually separated from God. There are a great many Christians who believe this; many of whom I respect immensely. If anyone can show me the scriptures that clearly denote such an occurrence, I would gladly accept such a theology. As it is, I have a hard time reconciling God separated from God and then coming back to life by the power of God. I'd be glad to discuss.
What I have seen in scripture is that in those moments of bearing our sin and our punishment Jesus felt disconnected from the Father. He felt the loss which began with Adam and has continued throughout human history. And in the midst of all the physical suffering it was this sense of loss that Jesus begins to mourn. He is dying on the cross, and yet he mourns the loss of connection with God the Father. Oh, that I would desire connection with God to such an extent.
In those moments God succeeded in not only mending the rift between man and God, but also in experiencing our loss in that rift. He can understand our longing, and he has provided the satisfaction.
My friends, we are designed to attach. Because of sin that propensity for attachment has been twisted so that we become too attached to the wrong things in the wrong ways. We become attached to money and possessions as if they were our lifelong friends. We become attached to relationships as if they will satisfy our every desire. We become attached to fictional characters in books, movies, and TV shows. We become attached to pets as if they are people. We become attached to food, drink, and other substances. We attach to these things in a search to fulfill that attachment which God intended for himself. That was the first sin, and it has been our most consistent downfall.
What then shall we do? Should we all become hermits, taking vows of celibacy and poverty? No. We were designed for attachment. God designed us to enjoy all these things: food, friends, family, and frolics. But we must first pursue our attachment to him. And then we must mourn our losses appropriately. If I allow the loss of a watch or a car to take over my life to the extent that I begin to neglect and abuse others, I might be too attached to my stuff. If I allow the loss of a relationship to take over my life so that I begin to neglect and abuse others (including God), I probably had an unhealthy attachment to that relationship. When I fight against losing any of those things in such a way that goes against God or hurts others, I need to reevaluate my attachments.
Mourning is important because loss is real. But healthy mourning keeps our priorities in perspective.
Remember, there is one relationship, one attachment that if pursued will never be lost. God is always there for us. He made us to cling to him forever. When we broke that attachment he did the work to repair it. We must cling to him.
Good mourning to you.
Well, here I am again, hoping that I can fill this space with some regularity. Not that anyone even noticed my lack of verbose pontification.
Coming into the end of this school year I have a few projects lined up for the summer. Along with working on building my principal's house, I have signed up for an online grad-level course to fulfill my re-certification credits. Since I haven't been a student in a class in five years, this could be interesting. I hope I still know how to learn stuff. I also hope to do some composing/arranging to prepare for some big things to happen next school year (be afraid, my students, be very afraid...). Add to that a couple small building projects and hopefully some semblance of a social life, and I should have plenty of time to regularly post here...right? Well, I kind of want to make it a goal anyway.
Today was the graduation of my first freshman class. I have been teaching for four years, so I kind of feel like I graduated today too. Only, just like my own high school graduation, I didn't get to dress up in a funny hat, walk across a stage, and receive a diploma. However, unlike my high school graduation, I will still be here next year. I'm excited about that. I love it here. I love teaching here. I love my students, and I love this community. I am honored to be a part of it. But it is hard to imagine teaching here without those whom I just watched switch their tassels. Over the last week, the last few days, and especially now, I have been in a sort of mourning process over the situation. Because that's what you do when you feel a sense of loss. You mourn.
We don't think about mourning very often because most losses we encounter are minor, or our attachments are small. Certainly we think of mourning when we lose relationships to the eternal transference of death. Over two years ago my tortoise named Digger died. It was the week before Christmas. He had been with me for a grand four months. I wept.
But we don't equate all death with loss. When I hear on the news that Donna Splinsky passed away I might feel a little sorry for her family, but I do not feel a loss. When my students tell me about the passing of their pet cat I offer my condolences and try to console them, but I do not feel the loss. I do not mourn for that which I do not feel loss.
When, however, my old pickup of six years was totaled (not my fault) I felt a loss, and I mourned. When I have completed a summer at camp of working with the same people under stressful conditions for three months and I have to say "good bye" I felt a loss, and I mourned. When my super cool watch of two years that had all the perfect features and even had a black background LCD display finally bit the dust I felt loss, and I mourned.
I did not mourn equally for each of these losses. The loss of great friendships built through shared adversity is much greater than the loss of a watch, or even a pickup (though we had a lot of great memories, that pickup and I). So there is loss, yes, but the loss is not the same. Likewise, the mourning is not the same. In the case of the watch I think it was as simple as, "aww, bummer. I really liked that watch. Now I'll need to get another. Oh well, such is life." Done. For the summer friends the mourning could take days, and even continue to impact my life for weeks.
Whatever the case may be, loss requires mourning. It doesn't have to be super dramatic with dark clothes, unkempt hair, and red, puffy eyes. But when attachments are severed some recognition is necessary.
No one goes through life with the expressed intention of losing things. In fact, we go to great lengths to be sure that we don't have to experience loss. We have safety guidelines and laws to protect our possessions and loved ones. We have drugs, procedures, and life-support systems to prolong life. We have key-chains that beep when we whistle. We don't like losing stuff because it hurts.
The Buddhist solution is to eliminate all attachment in life, because attachment is the cause of suffering. Some sects of Christianity latched on to a similar line of thought. Seeing that attachment to things in this world tended to distract from our attachment to God, a number of Christians sought solitude and poverty.
Yet we have been wired for attachment. Our Creator, God, built us in such a way that we long for, crave, and cannot help but stumble upon attachment to things. He built us to be relational in a deep and meaningful way. He designed us to become attached, first and foremost, to himself; to share a relationship so deep and personal that nothing could replace it. Unfortunately, we tried to replace it, and in doing so we created a rift in the relationship. That is the greatest loss mankind has ever experienced. How could the rift ever be repaired? How could a perfect God ever understand the depth of our loss?
It just so happened that God had a plan to accomplish those very things. God joined us as a man. He lived with us, and walked with us, and then he died for us. But more than that, after living a perfect, sinless life, Jesus died a sinners death. He died the way that each and every one of us deserves to die. BUT MORE THAN THAT, in those moments of agony and suffering of his physical body Jesus experienced an agony of the soul that mankind has known for millennia.
Some believe that Jesus, having taken on himself all the sin of mankind that it could be judged and that we could be justified, in that moment was actually separated from God. There are a great many Christians who believe this; many of whom I respect immensely. If anyone can show me the scriptures that clearly denote such an occurrence, I would gladly accept such a theology. As it is, I have a hard time reconciling God separated from God and then coming back to life by the power of God. I'd be glad to discuss.
What I have seen in scripture is that in those moments of bearing our sin and our punishment Jesus felt disconnected from the Father. He felt the loss which began with Adam and has continued throughout human history. And in the midst of all the physical suffering it was this sense of loss that Jesus begins to mourn. He is dying on the cross, and yet he mourns the loss of connection with God the Father. Oh, that I would desire connection with God to such an extent.
In those moments God succeeded in not only mending the rift between man and God, but also in experiencing our loss in that rift. He can understand our longing, and he has provided the satisfaction.
My friends, we are designed to attach. Because of sin that propensity for attachment has been twisted so that we become too attached to the wrong things in the wrong ways. We become attached to money and possessions as if they were our lifelong friends. We become attached to relationships as if they will satisfy our every desire. We become attached to fictional characters in books, movies, and TV shows. We become attached to pets as if they are people. We become attached to food, drink, and other substances. We attach to these things in a search to fulfill that attachment which God intended for himself. That was the first sin, and it has been our most consistent downfall.
What then shall we do? Should we all become hermits, taking vows of celibacy and poverty? No. We were designed for attachment. God designed us to enjoy all these things: food, friends, family, and frolics. But we must first pursue our attachment to him. And then we must mourn our losses appropriately. If I allow the loss of a watch or a car to take over my life to the extent that I begin to neglect and abuse others, I might be too attached to my stuff. If I allow the loss of a relationship to take over my life so that I begin to neglect and abuse others (including God), I probably had an unhealthy attachment to that relationship. When I fight against losing any of those things in such a way that goes against God or hurts others, I need to reevaluate my attachments.
Mourning is important because loss is real. But healthy mourning keeps our priorities in perspective.
Remember, there is one relationship, one attachment that if pursued will never be lost. God is always there for us. He made us to cling to him forever. When we broke that attachment he did the work to repair it. We must cling to him.
Good mourning to you.
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