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I met a man this week, just a little older than me, who had just lost his son to leukemia a week earlier. He was diagnosed with cancer just two short weeks before he died. As I heard the story, I could only think of a lyric from the song If I Die Young …”the sharp knife of a short life.”
Usually, news like this affects me greatly in the moment. I think of how thankful I should be. I run home and kiss my wife and kids. But half an hour later, I’m consumed again by life’s great inconveniences and stressors, and just as quickly as I was startled into awareness, I fall back into the numbness most of us know all too well.
So this time, after hearing the tragic news of what happened to this family, while I was full of appreciation for what God had blessed me with, I decided to try and preserve that perspective, just like my grandma does with jams and green beans. I decided to keep track of everything that bothered me, frustrated me, upset me, distracted me and then go line by line and ask myself the question, “Based on what just happened to this child and his family, does any of this really matter?”
I kept my list for a week. And I’d like to share it with you below. I think the answer to “Does any of this really matter?” will be quite evident.
- Kids engaging in a tug of war over the Wii and screaming, biting, kicking.
- Ice cream machine not working at McDonalds.
- Losing a game in fantasy football.
- A mix up between my wife and I on whether we were meeting for dinner or if she was picking me up.
- Mixed review from my boss on a key project that I was leading.
- My iPhone shutting down and refusing to power back up.
- Losing power at our house for two hours.
- Playing poorly during a pickup basketball game.
- My wife starting The Sing Off on DVR without me.
- My Alma Mater playing the worst football game in the history of the sport.
- Not having any bananas in the house.
- Knocking over a glass if water.
- Biting into a cold chicken nugget that should have been hot.
- Failing to locate a specific t-shirt that went with an outfit.
- Running late for a meeting because I was lost downtown.
- Kids acting like wild animals at Buffalo Wild Wings.
- My eyes hurting from straining at the computer.
- More issues with my iPhone.
- Cleaning up spilled chocolate milk on our living room carpet.
- Kids not cooperating at bedtime.
- Running late for work and school because we overslept.
- Weeds taking over the flower bed again.
- Losing an entire blog post because WordPress froze up.
- Disputing a billing error with DirecTV.
It’s not like any of these (well at least not most of these) created extreme or sustained stress and anger. It’s not like each was a spectacle of an event that loomed large over me like a rain cloud. But life is just like this. Death by a thousand cuts. A relentless series of small inconveniences, minor annoyances, slight distractions that build upon one another and expand until they absolutely crush you under their weight. For most of us, the actual moments of crisis in our lives are few and far between. But the wear and tear of daily life can be just as violent and unforgiving if we allow it to eat at us and break us down.
It was so revealing for me to look back at my list and reflect on the small things that affected my mood over the course of the week. The tiny things that got a reaction, regardless of how small a reaction it was. Just keeping the list has been extremely useful as a tool to monitor and moderate myself. Every time I logged an annoyance on my list, it immediately took me back to that moment when I heard the story about this father and his lost son. And it preserved the perspective for me. It made it abundantly clear that I continue to fight the battle of dwelling on things that expire while neglecting the things that are eternal.
My list also helped remind me of just how blessed I am at this stage of my life. At the moment, my family is mourning the declining health of my wife’s grandmother, but otherwise, it’s hard to find legitimate things to hang our heads about. But we do. Sure, we have internal battles we’re fighting, wounds we’re trying to heal, etc. There are relationships to repair. Struggles to overcome. But God has provided so abundantly for our family. Look at my list. I bet it looks a lot like your list would look. My fantasy football team lost. Boo freakin hoo. I bit into a cold chicken nugget and didn’t have immediate access to a banana. Not exactly a food emergency. My iPhone wouldn’t work right. Oh my. How will I go on?
This all brings back a memory I have from a mission trip I took to Costa Rica when I was in grad school. We were in a poverty-stricken area. There were bars on the windows of every house, which was odd because there was nothing of value within to steal. The kids in the neighborhood were wearing the same clothes just about every day. They were ragged and stained. They had virtually nothing. Except an old, torn and tattered soccer ball that they kicked around. And they couldn’t stop smiling.
I thank those children in Costa Rica, and I thank this poor child in Nashville who lost his short battle with cancer. I thank them for giving me the gift of perspective. For keeping me tuned in to what really matters. For not allowing me to be numb and worn down by the daily grind, not to be screaming, “Calgon, take me a way” and hiding in a bubble bath because my life is so “stressful”. Even if my family were to endure a crisis – sickness, unemployment, etc. – even if we had to endure a series of them, we would still be blessed beyond measure. It’s that line of thinking that I want to cling to. I know it’s hard to do. Life is crafty and deceptive and relentless. All that means is that I have to meet it with a relentless pursuit for perspective. And ask God to power me in that pursuit.
This post is just a quick praise. There’s a song by Flyleaf (which I absolutely love), called All Around Me.
The chorus goes…
I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I’m breathing
Holding on to what I’m feeling
Savoring this heart that’s healing
I’m alive! I’m alive!
That’s how I’m feeling this week. Not in an “I’ve never been happier” kind of way, but in an “I’m absolutely hearing from God” kind of way. He’s all around me right now. So, I’m just trying to be present in the moment and hear everything He has to say. I just know that He’s close, and working, and stirring inside me. Placing things before me. Sharing insights with me.
It’s amazing how stuck you can feel one moment, and then how easily God can start you moving again!
A few days ago, I was playing with my two sons. It was a gorgeous afternoon. Sunshine and laughter. The type of scenario that begs for a camera to capture the memory, so that years later this beautiful day can be relived. And in the midst of this picture perfect moment, I was absolutely distracted. I had work on my mind. I was also thinking about how long it had been since I’d written anything for my blog. I was thinking about how stalled I felt in my relationship with God. I was mentally balancing our checkbook and stressing about financial security. And all the while, I was missing out.
In my inability to be present and engaged with my sons, I lost out on what should have been a really great time. In that moment, it shouldn’t have mattered what was next, what was wrong, what could happen. In that very moment, something really great was happening, and all I had to do was be present to experience it fully. It’s depressing to consider how many times my inability to be present has intruded upon and obstructed something God was trying to show me or share with me.
“You are always here. There is no there.”
Those profound words were shared by Jon Kabat-Zinn, a leading practitioner of mindfulness. He was addressing employees at Google’s headquarters at the time, guiding them through a workshop on meditation and mindfulness. He called for them to “inhabit now”. According to Kabat-Zinn, when we are trying to hard to solve a problem or to make sense of our circumstances, we sometimes just need to stop, to go beyond thinking and pushing and forcing our way to the solution. Just stop. Inhabit the moment. Be present.
I’ve had to stop myself a lot lately. When my journey to a closer relationship with God isn’t going as smoothly as I had hoped, when it isn’t progressing at a fast enough clip to satisfy my impatience, I find myself forcing the issue. Feeling a desperate frustration that drives me mad, the same way it feels when you’re late for something important and stuck in traffic on the interstate, bumper to bumper, and you feel trapped and you want to pull at your hair and act crazy just for a moment.
I have to remind myself to stop striving for the end result I’m after and be present. In Matthew 6:34 it says, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Yes, today has its own trouble to deal with, so don’t go borrowing trouble from tomorrow. But in addition to worry, today has its own power. Today, I can be in perfect union with God. Today, I can find refuge in God. Today, I can engage in a meaningful exchange with God. I can find truth, insight, hope, guidance, mercy. Even as I continue to work on being the man God wants me to be. Even as I wrestle with my idols, my wounds, my sins. Today, I can have peace. If I can be present.
Luke 17:21 says that, “the kingdom of God is within you.” In other words, you are always here. There is no there. All you need is to be present and to inhabit the moment.
Not a long post today. Just meditating on a simple insight. I’ll probably discuss it at greater length at some point.
As I proceed in this journey, I’ve come to realize that I must simultaneously embrace the man I used to be, the man I am and the man I want to become. The trinity of self in other words. Sometimes I want to turn my back on the past and just start anew. But history is important. And those wounds, those wrong turns are all critical to my wisdom in Christ. Sometimes I just want to cast into the future. But if I don’t embrace who I am right now, if I don’t know where I am in this moment, how in the world will I find my way forward.
It’s foolish of me to think for one moment that I can unravel any single aspect of myself and not expect the entire braid to come undone. It’s the collective of past, present and future that define me.
There is a new book out by David Brooks, a New York Times op-ed columnist, that has spoken volumes to me. And I haven’t even read it yet!
The name of the book is The Social Animal, and I came across a review of it on my Twitter feed this week. I immediately downloaded it on my Kindle, well, after trying to buy it in a bookstore only to realize it was THREE times more expensive to buy it in there. No wonder Borders couldn’t make it. Sigh. But that’s not really the point of this post, so I’ll move on.
So far, I have only read the review, but I’ve read the review multiple times. Just in that snippet of copy, the author articulated much of what I’ve come to realize and grapple with lately.
The reviewer is a business executive named Tony Schwartz. He shared his insight on the book through a Harvard Business Review blog. According to Schwartz, this book eloquently explains why we’ve gone so far off course in our society, pinning it on “human failings we haven’t begun to recognize, much less acknowledge.”
He goes on to share Brooks’ core argument, “that the vast majority of us have very little understanding of why we make the choices we do, and that we’re influenced instead by peer pressure; impulsive and reactive emotions; a deep and bottomless need for admiration and status; overconfidence in the present; excessive worry about the future; the evolutionary instinct to avoid pain and move towards pleasure; and precious little capacity to delay gratification.”
This isn’t a spiritual book. But man, did he just sum up my struggle in one fast-moving, heavy-hitting paragraph.
The Social Animal explores our subconscious, which takes up most of our mental space, and it zeros in on the fact that “instead of drawing on our rational faculties to more deeply understand our interior impulses and motivations, we too often try to rationalize, justify, minimize and explain away the unconsciously driven actions we’ve already taken.”
In short, we have an infinite capacity for self-deception.
Schwartz reports that Brooks lays out a path to “a more meaningful life – one that balances action with introspection, confidence with restraint.”
As you can tell, I’m a big fan of his review. And I think I will be a big fan of this book as well. As I said to open this post, the book has already spoken deeply to me without turning a page.
I literally just woke up to the fact that my capacity for self-deception is indeed infinite. That I really need to get more in tune with my nature and how I’m wired. I just blogged about it a few weeks back. Brooks, and even Schwartz are saying it much more effectively than I could have hoped to say it, so I’m thankful to have stumbled upon their words. It helps crystallize what has been rolling around in my head.
I’ll report back after reading the book. I really hope it lives up to the lofty expectations I’m now placing on it. I’m hopeful that it will help my spiritual walk through better understanding of my physical being, plugging me in more directly with the mass of unconsciousness that secretly dictates success or failure in my life far too often.
We recently welcomed a new addition to our family of four. He’s a little cutie. A bit grumpy at times. Looks like potty training is completely out of the question, which is kind of a drag. His name is Cheeseball. And as far as lizards go, he’s pretty cool.
Cheeseball is a bearded dragon. My older son has been asking for a reptile of his own for quite some time. We finally relented once we realized it probably wasn’t a phase he was shaking anytime soon. It’s been fun watching Cheeseball (yes, my son named him) in his cage, trying to be a wild animal in a caged environment.
Since my wife doesn’t really get excited about the whole lizard thing, and the scales and crickets and clean up duty that come with it, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Cheesy. I’ve read an entire book on caring for beardies, researched on the Internet for proper handling, feeding and health techniques. I’m developing a great understanding of what makes these dragons tick, what their instincts are, why they act the way they do, what they really need to thrive.
All this has me thinking a little more deeply about myself, my needs, why I respond the way I do. Over the past year, I’ve become much more aware of my wounds and how those impact me. How I’ve responded to external stimulus in my environment. I’ve yet to pay as much attention to my natural instincts, those behaviors and reflexes and needs that just come built-in as part of the human package.
It’s important for Cheeseball to have a safe place to hide in his cage. It’s very distressing if he doesn’t have somewhere to retreat from danger. When you provoke Cheeseball, and he feels threatened, he will puff out his chin, open his mouth and hiss at you. Making himself appear larger and more dangerous than he really is. It’s important that he have access to light that provides warmth and vitamins. This includes a spot to bask in daily.
I could go on. There are lots of things I suddenly know about bearded dragons. But the point here is that I’ve been paying attention to all of these natural needs and/or responses in caring for our pet, while not taking any of these types of things into account as I think about myself, and specifically my spiritual walk.
We have an intelligent and intentional design. We are equipped with survival instincts and reflexes, as well as basic needs that we will strive to meet. And when our external environment goes as planned, a lot of these instincts and needs work just as the design intended. The problem is that we are constantly stressed by our environments, sometimes to the point of trying to be wild and free while caged and placed in an unnatural setting, either by our own actions or external forces beyond our control.
In a way, we are predictable as a result. No matter what our environment or circumstances throw at us, we respond based on our survival instincts. We pursue things in life based on the same set of needs.
The important thing for me to consider here is that I have a set of survival instincts that can both help and hurt as I try to pursue a deeper relationship with God. I have basic needs that I’m designed to pursue and meet at all costs. And understanding that wiring is every bit as important as it is to be self-aware of my spiritual wounds.
Being aware of my natural instincts and response biases can help me break patterns or at least better understand what I’m feeling and how I’m reacting to a specific situation. Being more cognizant of all my needs, and not just my spiritual needs, will help me be more successful in my faith walk.
This means that seemingly unrelated things such as the food I put in my body, the amount of exercise I’m getting, the social connections I’m making to family and friends and a host of other variables all contribute to whether I can be effectively present in my pursuit of God.
We are intelligently and intentionally designed, which requires us to be consciously and consistently aware of this design. Taking some time to look through the glass and understand how the wild animal within us is wired. Tapping in to our inner dragons.
I love music. Specifically, I love good music. Even more specifically, I love well-written lyrics. The perfect song can sum up exactly how you’re feeling in just a few short lines. It just captures the essence, and explains it better than you could have explained it with 25,000 words.
So, for today’s post, I’ll steal a few lines from a Coldplay tune that sums me up at the moment. The song is Fix You, and it starts like this:
When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
There I am. Stuck in reverse. I am tired as I type this, but I can’t sleep. I feel like in my pursuit of life, I’m getting what I “want” but I’m so far away from what I need. I’m trying the best I can to gain better perspective, but there’s no success to be found.
I’m six weeks into a new job and asking myself if this is really what I want to do professionally. I’m as frustrated in my relationship with God as I’ve been in a long time. I just don’t hear Him right now. Not at all.
And worst of all, I’m not sure what to write on this blog. I’ve gone weeks between posts lately. Not because I was without access to a computer. I just haven’t had much to say. And I am making less than zero progress on my book at the moment either. Each time I open up the file, I just stare at the pages blankly and close my laptop with a sigh.
The Coldplay tune goes on to say that, “Lights will guide you home.” I just hope they get here soon, because in the meantime, I’m undoing a lot of progress as I drive backwards.
But thanks to Coldplay, I at least have a compelling prayer to pray for today.
Dear God. By your light, guide me home. Ignite my bones. Fix me. Amen.
I am about to wrap up week one of my new job. It’s gone fairly well. I’m feeling comfortable. The people are nice. The work is challenging. The headquarters is in a scenic place (see pic on right). The only down side is that I’ve spent most the week away from my family. Hopefully the travel aspect of the new gig is a short-term sacrifice.
What I’ve discovered about myself in this process of making a job change is that I have really grown to loathe new things. I didn’t realize how comfortable I had gotten in my old patterns. How resistant I had become to change. But lately, it seems like anything with that “new car smell” is much less attractive to me.
Most of the anxiety I had around my new job was because I was starting over in terms of credibility, relationships, track record, etc. I fast forwarded through week one, trying to move as quickly as possible to a state of feeling settled in and comfortable. I couldn’t wait for it not to smell or feel new any longer. New was creating stress and discomfort.
I really need to watch out for that. If I go too far in that direction, I’m going to miss out on a lot of things, particularly in my spiritual walk. And it isn’t enough for me to take chances and obediently make changes. I need to embrace them. I need to savor them. I stole the joy right out of starting a new job, with a clean slate and a world of opportunity. I replaced it with doubt and fear and hesitation. It’s all going to work out. But because of my aversion to the new car smell, I have already missed some of the blessing.
The best way to continue growing is to never stop. And if you’re like me, and feel like you’ve all but slowed to a halt, maybe it is time to start over. Embrace change and breathe in that new car smell!
As I climbed into my car, on the last day of a job I’ve held for 8 years, the radio jolted me. I had cranked it up on the way in this morning, jamming out so I could enter the office with some positive energy and not be sad about leaving or scared about going. After I adjusted the volume, I laughed. The song on the radio was by Michelle Branch. It’s called, “Are you happy now?”
I took it as a not so subtle reminder from God that it doesn’t really matter if I’m in my old job, my new job or yet another new job. My old house. My current house. A different house. On a beach. On a mountain. If I turn to the wrong source for my happiness, I’ll be left unsatisfied.
All along the way, the decision to take a new job was frightening for me. You are probably tired of reading about it at this point. And while I continue to believe that it will strengthen my faith by requiring me to trust God more, I think I’ve been putting too much emphasis on it in terms of how much it actually changes me. Of course it changes a lot in terms of my daily life. But it’s still a job. It is intended to pay the bills. It should not define me, or prevent me from being in relationship with God or investing in my family and friends. It has literally no impact on my happiness and my peace. The source for that remains the same.
When I got home, I spent some time with my wife and kids, and then I picked up The Naked Now by Richard Rohr. I’ve quoted this book before, but I had all but forgotten about it after it was buried beneath mail and magazines on our kitchen counter. I picked up where I left off many months ago, and wouldn’t you know it, the first two pages I read were focused on “change.” Rohr states that as individuals, and even as churches, we usually ignore things that require actual change of our lifestyle, security system or dualistic thought patterns and instead we emphasis intellectual beliefs and moral superiority stances that ask little of us. Rohr suggests that we naturally divert our attention from anything that “would ask you to change, to righteous causes that invariably ask others to change.”
I take all that to mean that one of my favorite, old-school, hip hop groups was right when they said, “You need to check yo self before you wreck yo self.” Who knew that they were laying down some philosophy at the same time they were calling for us all to shake our rumps?
Too often, I get caught up in addressing the superficial in my life. Moving furniture around. Determining better ways to pay bills. Trying to keep my backyard green. Trying to be successful at the office. Trying to find the perfect job. And I let changes in these areas, big and small, take precedence over spiritual concerns. Over the last month, I’ve been 110 percent consumed with the new job and all the emotions I described previously. It’s been unhealthy for my family time and even more so my spiritual walk. At the end of the day, I truly believe that God finds my place of employment largely irrelevant in terms of His relationship with me. I could change jobs a thousand times in a year, and God would have the same expectations and desires for my heart.
I’m in for a big year of change professionally. My new gig couldn’t be more different from my old one. But I’m more excited about the changes I expect to experience internally. Getting serious again about asking God what He has for me. The real change He wants for me that will lead to change in others.
When God says to me (or maybe sings to me, I don’t know): “Look me in the eyes, and tell me are you happy now?” I want to have a good answer for that.
I’m tired. It’s been a long, stressful month. Lots of major decisions. Business travel. Hectic schedules. Sick kids. Possibly the most ridiculous scuffles I could possibly have with my wife. It’s been really hard to be focused on God and my journey toward Him. I’ve been unable to sustain ongoing quiet time, unable to write, unable to make progress. And as I’ve said before, if I’m not moving forward, that means I’m falling backward.
I still maintain that to be a true statement. However, I also have discovered an important caveat. I don’t have to be moving forward if I am intentionally resting in God. Sometimes it is better to just press pause.
As I rapidly circle the drain and press ahead on this lifelong journey, I have to allow myself a pit stop here and there. This will be the first and hopefully last NASCAR reference I’ll ever make within the confines of this blog, but can you imagine what would happen if a NASCAR driver refused to pull over for gas, tires or whatever else they do to the cars during a race? Eventually, they’d run out of gas, blow a tire or both. Among other bad things.
The same goes for my Christian walk. Without finding rest, without refueling, without replenishing myself in God, I’m either going to give in or give up. Give in: to those same old sins that always throw me off track and cause me to stumble. Give up: and stop short of what God has for me because I’m exhausted, frustrated and spent. Or both. Among other bad things.
In Galatians 6:9 it says, “Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” Now, I said I was tired, not weary. But it’s a short ride from one to the other. And if I allow myself to get to weary, I’m much more likely to lose heart and to be exhausted from trying to pursue God and His will for me.
One of the most famous verses in the Bible goes something like this: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28.
Another verse I really like is Isaiah 40:31 – But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.
Everything in this world seems intent on pulling against our pursuit of God. Each day seems up to the challenge of challenging us. It’s quite easy to get tired, to grow weary, to give in, up or both. Just as you eventually need to rest your head on a pillow and rest your physical body, your mental and spiritual self requires the same rejuvenation on a regular basis.
For me, it is natural to press into my faith walk. To battle for quiet time. To reach for the next objective or achievement. To wage war with the world around me. To thrash about and exert energy. To march ahead, whether God is ready or not. On the other hand, I often forget to rest. To sense my tiring self and to retreat to God and ask for Him to relax me and give me peace. To let me refuel. To take on my burden with me and provide me with relief. To simply press pause and intentionally rest in God. There is rest for the weary after all. If only we receive it.
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