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Today’s post will be a little shorter than usual. Just getting right to the point with this one.
Over the last year, I’ve learned a lot about myself. My past. My future. My present. How to live life. How to trust God. How to make sense of things that don’t make sense. How to be present. Along the way, I’ve picked up some effective ways to help me zero in on what I’m feeling and more importantly, help me say or do the next right thing. This doesn’t mean I always say or do the next right thing. But with every passing day, I get better at that.
Here are the three small phrases that are currently making a big difference in my life, and I think if you try them out, you’ll see they will make a big difference in yours as well.
- But Why… Whatever you are thinking or feeling, whatever emotion is rising up within you, it is the product of an unmet need and/or an unhealed wound. Usually, there are layers upon layers that we have to peel back before we get to the bottom of it. When you catch yourself overreacting to a situation or feeling something that is unsettling, or being tempted to do something that isn’t good for you, pause for a second and ask, But why?” Try to uncover what’s driving your bad mood, your craving, your unhealthy response or your negative thoughts.
- So That… This is a powerful one. Everything happening in your life right now is under the specific instruction of a power higher than yourself. Ask what God has for you in this current situation. Whatever the trial, obstacle, adversity or suffering you find yourself in, there is a “so that” to it. I heard this phrase for the first time while attending my local church several months ago. Liked it so much, I stole it and have been using it ever since to remind me that even when I don’t understand what God is doing, there is a point to it. A bigger picture. I just have to be patient enough to let Him work.
- And Then… I use this when faced with choices and decisions. What is the likely outcome, consequences, etc. to choosing path a over path b. If you are in pain and wanting to medicate in any way to avoid it, you must know that the pain will still be there waiting on you when you’re done, and you’ll also have the consequence of your medicine of choice (which depending on the individual ranges from alcohol to drugs to pornography to binge eating to shopping to gambling to burning hours on social media). If you respond to your current situation out of an unstable emotional state, you will damage the relationship or the scenario even further. Sometimes just being able to see the potential fallout from an unhealthy decision is enough to help you make a healthy one instead.
All three of these phrases are a part of my daily vocabulary now. I’m doing my best to be present in my decision making, in my daily actions, in my relationships, in each and every hour I’ve been blessed with from above. Too often, we go through live in reaction mode, with no real perspective on what is happening to us, why it’s happening and what will happen next. Practice these three phrases for a week, each and every time you get the opportunity, and I bet you feel better equipped to deal with your life in a positive way.
One of the funniest 3 minutes of cinema, in my humble opinion, is a dinner scene in The Nutty Professor, where the grandma of the family challenges her son, Cletus, to come around to her side of the table to settle an argument. She tells him with extreme confidence that “you walk over, but you’re limping back.”
It’s pretty scary, entering into a fight against an opponent you know you can’t beat. They will impose their will on you. They will defeat you. There’s no way to escape affliction. Cletus knew what his mom said was the truth. If he walked over, he’d be limping back!” He talked a good game, but in the end, he let that fear nail him to his seat. He was not about to get within arms reach of that feisty old lady.
I can identify with Cletus. With the fear he felt. It’s the same fear I felt when God was summoning me to engage with Him. To come around the table and wrestle with Him.
Jacob famously wrestled with God and forever walked with a limp afterward, a continual reminder of the wisdom he received during that encounter. No doubt, if you come around the table to wrestle with God, you will limp back. It’s a fact. I knew this was the truth. Like Cletus, I sat in my chair and refused to move closer to God. Not wanting to be afflicted with a limp.
This is where the comparison with Cletus ends. It was probably a smart move for him to stay seated. But when it’s God and not Grandma issuing the challenge, not answering the call is short sighted at best. The alternative, if we refuse to wrestle, is to be caged by sin. Paralyzed by fear, shame, guilt, resentment and a host of other negative emotions. Enslaved by our past, taken out by our wounds.
It’s okay to be afraid. But here’s what you have to do about it:
It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God…do not cast away your confidence…you have need of endurance, so that after you have done the will of God, you may receive the promise. – Hebrews 10: 31-36
It is an illusion to believe that we are walking just fine without God. If we try to just go along with our life, just push down the darkness, just shove those painful memories in a corner, just minimize and rationalize our behavior, just ignore the hurt, we in essence will be rendered unable to walk at all. Emotionally crippled. Paralyzed. Because we didn’t want to endure the pain of walking with a limp. Of engaging in our own work, dealing with our own stuff, and allowing God to touch us in a way that marks His purpose in our lives.
I currently walk with a very noticeable limp. I’ve had to face fears, insecurities, wounds, trauma, abuse and a rash of poor decisions and regrettable actions on my part. I have wrestled with God, continue to do so. And my flesh is losing the fight. That’s a good thing. It hurts. I’ll never walk the same when I’m done. But that’s a good thing. A really, really good thing. Sure beats not walking at all.
I am weary with my groaning; all night I make my bed swim; I drench my couch with tears. My eye wastes away because of grief. It grows old because of all my enemies. – Psalm 6:6
That was me. Word for word. I could not have said it better myself, and I was very surprised to stumble upon it this week during quiet time.
Restless through each night. Sleepwalking through each day. Feeling old, tired and defeated by the enemy. Numb. Hopeless. Stuck. That was me.
So what changed?
I got mad. I got even. And then I gave up.
The answer to my plight, as it turns out, was just a few chapters away in Psalm 4:4. It says, “Be angry and don’t sin,” and then, “Put your trust in the Lord.” In my words, that means get mad, get even and then give up.
One point of this passage is that we can’t sit in our shit (pardon my language). We must be moved. One commentary I read on this passage suggested that we need a “vehement commotion of the mind and heart.” We have to shake loose from the slumber. We have to wake up and get mad. We have to want it, badly. We have to feel something, whether it’s anger, grief, fear…we have to get fired up. We have to oppose the carelessness, numbing out and carnal security that comes from filling holes in our lives with idols and self-medication.
So, step one…get mad!
And then step two, positively respond to that emotion. Mediate on it. Calmly and objectively examine it. Get even, as in level-headed. Don’t be carried away by the emotion. Yeah, I have a lot of experience getting step one wrong. And I am equally qualified with not appropriately responding to emotions. But it’s how you get from there to here, or from here to there.
Luckily, there’s a step three to help with steps one and two. Give up. You do this by placing your trust in the Lord. Yeah, I know that sounds so cliche and cheeseballs. So Sunday School. But when you truly hand things over to God, truly surrender them, I’ve learned that good things happen. Crazy good things. Transformational things. You just have to give up!
Going back to the first passage in Psalm 6…that terribly dark picture of my former existence…take a look at how that Psalm ends. It says the Lord has heard me, my prayer, my supplication. He will receive it. He will turn my enemies back from me. That’s the promise.
This is the path I’m on, and let me tell you, it works. Feel what you’re feeling (get mad). Wake yourself up, and actually engage with the emotions that are bubbling up inside you. Appropriately respond to those emotions (get even). Examine where they are coming from, what they mean. Meditate on them. And then, hand them right on over to God (give up) and ask for Him to deliver. He will. He always does.
I was having breakfast with a friend this morning. We talked a lot about baseball, raising kids, life. Eventually, we had to make it around to the awkward topic of my journey, the war that I’m currently waging, as I fight my way closer to being the man God designed me to be. As we were chatting, my friend posed a thoughtful question to me. Likely intending it to be hypothetical.
“Why is it that we have to be broken to be used by God?”
I didn’t even hesitate in responding. Because I know. If we have any other path, any other hope, any other semblance of a plan that we think will work, we won’t rest in God. We won’t trust Him. We will do it our way. Before I could help myself, I wandered into a lengthy analogy, which I would like to share here. I think it explains fairly well why we must be broken before God can actually work with us.
Say you have a car. And let’s say that car has lots of things wrong with it. Dents along the bumpers. A door that won’t open from the outside. A busted headlight. Screeching brakes. A cracked windshield. Despite all these defects, these imperfections, we can still drive the car. And many of us do. It’s not running perfectly, but if we’re trying to avoid the expense or the inconvenience of having it professionally repaired, we can limp along with it for months or years.
It’s not until the transmission falls out of the bottom of it that we actually get help. It’s not until we are on the side of the road, broken down, with literally no other option than to call the mechanic and beg for his divine intervention.
It’s the same with God. We will walk, limp, crawl, drag ourselves forward. It’s not until we are broken, desperate and left on the roadside of life that most of us turn our eyes to God and say, “Ok, have thy will and thy way with me.”
That’s me. I was driving a wreck of a life. The headlights were out, the brakes were shot, my tires worn down to the wires. I was driving in the pitch black into oncoming traffic, not knowing where I was even trying to go. It was storming, and I had no windshield wipers. The winds were blowing, and I had no power steering. And yet, I just kept pushing the gas. Gripping the wheel. Driving.
It wasn’t until I hit the wall, or whatever it was, that I finally stopped. When I couldn’t go further. When it was literally impossible for me to do this on my own. The mechanic showed up. Answered my prayer. And began to restore me so I could fly down the road like a finely tuned machine on the way to a far better place.
I’m broken. But I’m beautifully made. And finally, I get to find out what that feels like, and what God wants to do with me. Amen!
Most of us have faith when we have to have it. When there is no other recourse. When we are at the end of our rope, and we realize we can’t get there without God.
Most of us have faith when it’s not hard yet. When everything is working just great for us, and life is good. When it really doesn’t require all that much of us.
But there is a place between those two extremes when most of us lose faith. It’s that moment just before the point of no return. When we’re staring down a situation or circumstance, and we blink. In that moment, we doubt God’s power. We decide we can’t go through with it. We freak out and run. And we miss out because we move before we let God move. It’s in that moment where we decide whether we’re going to trust God or trust ourselves.
This is a very unfortunate truth. I feel confident you can point to at least one time in your life when you failed to hold your ground. When you saw an out and took it. When push came to shove, and you pushed and shoved your way out of God’s will because it got real, and it got really scary.
I feel like I’m facing a moment of faith myself. Trying not to bail. Trying to see it through and trust that God is leading me down an intentional path. But it’s hard. I started my new company six months ago. January actually marks my seventh month in business. But last week, I all but panicked. I looked out ahead and couldn’t clearly see what God had waiting for me. To date, I’ve been pulling in enough work to keep me busy and pay our bills and all. But January, my seventh month, marks the first time that client work feels really light. This happens with all startups, but that doesn’t make it any less disconcerting.
As I pondered my next steps, I realized that I could either a. continue to diligently pursue the path I believe God has me on and trust that I’m right and that He will provide. Or b. I could bail, quickly begin looking for work and take matters into my own hands. I grabbed my Bible to calm myself with scripture. Opening it randomly to Ezra, I started reading in Chapter 3. There it talks about worship being restored at Jerusalem.
In verses 3-4, it says, “Though fear had come upon them…they set the alter on its bases and they offered burnt offerings on it to the Lord both morning and evening…they also kept the Feast of the Tabernacles, as it is written, and offered the daily burnt offerings in the number required…”
So in other words, they were afraid, freaked out, but they continued in obedience, pushing ahead despite fear and worry. What was most powerful for me in this passage was the way it started. “And when the seventh month had come…” Their seventh month. As in my seventh month. I feel like God clearly had something to say to me that afternoon.
So, at the moment, I’m a little freaked out still, but I’m proceeding ahead in the direction I feel God is leading, and trying to rest in peace knowing He will deliver me and my family accordingly. But this moment of faith is tremendously difficult. And every morning, I wake up, and I feel like running. I feel like blinking. But I won’t. I can’t. Not if I want to see God move.
This is officially my 200th post to this blog. It’s been very helpful and fulfilling for me to have this outlet to share my thoughts, and in many ways to process my thoughts out in the open. And to have a record of how I’ve progressed in my understanding of what God’s plan for my life looks like. For those of you following along at home, I thank you. And hope that in some small way, something I’ve discussed has been meaningful in your spiritual walk as well.
Today, I want to talk about staying awake, alive and in the moment when pursuing God. It’s been something I’ve battled the last few years, and you can see evidence by flipping back through the 200 posts on this blog. You’ll see seasons where I’ve written regularly and been very much alert in my spiritual walk. You’ll also notice times when the well was dry and it appeared that I had closed up shop.
Early on in this journey, I read a book about living wide awake. It’s stuck with me. What I’ve come to realize is that living wide awake requires me to do a few things.
#1 – Wake Up
This happened for me a while back. The initial wake up call that jolted me into action. The mini epiphanies I’ve been having since that moment that open my eyes to new insights. Opening myself to the truths that God has for me and receiving them. For each day to start, you literally have to physically and mentally wake up! In a spiritual sense, that requires a desire to see God.
#2 – Get Up
There can be quite an expansive space between waking up and actually getting up. My wife and I can vouch for that with our morning routine. It’s not uncommon for the alarm to blare, and the kids to climb the bed while we both fight to stay beneath the covers with our eyes closed for another 5 precious minutes. This can go on for quite a while. Same goes for my spiritual pursuits. Just because I’ve opened my eyes from a desire to see God, doesn’t mean I’ll get there. It requires motivation to take initiative and get on my feet.
#3 Stay Up
I always have grand expectations and intentions for my evenings, once work is done and the kids are in bed. Oh, the writing I will do! Oh, the things I will accomplish! But lately, what happens a lot is that I’ll pass out on the couch at 9:30 pm watching American Idol on DVR. I remember laughing at my grandfather as a child, because he would always pass out the instant he would sit down in his recliner, no matter what time of day/night it was. But it’s easy to be physically, mentally, spiritually exhausted. To be beaten down by life, circumstances, trials. Truly living wide awake requires perseverance to stay alert when the only thing I want to do is close my eyes and check out.
In my spiritual journey, there have been many instances when I didn’t possess the appropriate desire to see God. Or when I didn’t possess the approrpiate motivation to pursue him. Or when I was just too exhausted or tired or lazy to persevere and stay on fire for Him.
There’s a Japanese Proverb that I love which says, “Fall seven times, stand up eight.” That’s my approach to my journey. Fall asleep seven times, wake up eight!
Two days ago, I finally hit my breaking point. I wanted something. I wanted guidance. I wanted clarity. So, I asked God for it. I asked specifically for specificity. I asked clearly for clarity.
I pleaded with God to show me at least the next step in His plan, to help me not feel like I was wandering around in circles. I asked for what all Christians ask for at one point or another. I asked for a sign.
A few hours later, I got a fairly random request from my neighbors next door. They were selling a car, and some guy responded to their Craigslist ad wanting to test drive it at 9:30 at night. The husband wanted me to ride along, just to help ease his mind about this sketchy fellow. As I was standing in their kitchen talking to them, I mentioned how I was feeling about my journey. The husband quoted a verse that had always spoken to him about the righteous living by faith. His wife told me how when the husband was in a similar place, he moved on by quitting his job. She looked at me like she knew I was waiting for someone to deliver specific wisdom. She said, “Sometimes, you just have to take that next step. That’s what God wants. And when you do that, He’ll make sense of it all.”
In the end, the guy never showed up to drive the car. And it wasn’t until I woke up the next morning that the words of my neighbor struck me. And I thought, “Was that God trying to communicate?”
I shook it off. Drove into downtown for a meeting at a coffee shop. Logged into my email and stumbled upon a column in the Washington Post by Carolyn Hax. Carolyn was answering reader questions. The first question was from a guy who was checking in with a midlife crisis, saying he was tempted to blow up his life and go sell t-shirts in Tahiti or something like that. But, of course, he was feeling conflicted about blowing up his life and moving to Tahiti.
Carolyn responded by suggesting he finish this sentence: “The real reason I’m not ‘blowing it all up’ is that I actually like ____________.” She offered suggestions like “paying the bills” or “being safe and secure.” She also said he needed to recognize if he was standing in his own way.
To admit if he was staying with his current job because he was telling himself he couldn’t afford to quit it. But really using that as an excuse because he was afraid to try something new.
She said that when you acknowledge your choices and why you’re making them, you can do one of two things. Embrace them. Or change them.
I naturally linked this article with the words from my neighbor. And for a moment, I felt like God might be reinforcing what she had told me. But then I thought to myself, “No, this isn’t what I think it is.” I thought, “I sorta need to hear it one more time.” The whole things come in three’s theory.
Less than five minutes later, I found myself eavesdropping on a conversation two guys were having in the coffee shop. I shouldn’t have been able to make out anything they were saying. They were at the other end of the store. But it was as if I were standing next to them participating.
One guy says to the other, “Is today your last day? Are you packed up and ready?” The other guy responds and explains that tomorrow is actually his last day at his job. He then starts talking about how worried and stressed he is about it. How he’s spending six months on “the trail” and how there will be bears and snakes and other dangerous wild animals. How he’ll probably lose 20-30 pounds in the first month or two. How every 7 days or so, he’ll pass a town or gas station or something but in between it’ll just be wilderness. But what a great adventure.
As crazy as it sounds, I feel like the message was reinforced again. A message that doesn’t make any rational or logical sense at all. I’ve been trying to discern where God is leading me so I can follow, but is God asking me to follow first? I’d love to get some affirmation from some objective third parties. If you’re out there, reading this, and you feel like you can validate or contradict what I think I’m hearing, I’d love to hear from you. Does this seem like actual communication from God? Or am I over-analyzing things and trying to connect unrelated events to force clarity? Should I just chill out and be patient? Cool my jets? Or should I blow it all up?
Should I quit my job?
Last night, I read this:
If you take a step out of your comfort zone and try something new in pursuit of your dream, it either will work out, or it won’t. That’s a 50% chance of success. If you do nothing, there’s a 100% chance you won’t succeed in pursuing your dream. (Paraphrased from Quitter by Jon Acuff)
On my way to work today, I heard this:
“Feels like there’s nothing that I can’t try…” (I’m Coming Home: Diddy, featuring Skylar Grey)
I guess my senses are heightened at the moment to the concept of “trying” something new. Still, I do think I’m getting a lot of signals through the airwaves. Including these two.
What I read in Acuff’s book affirmed an ancient truth I’ve known for my entire life of loving sports. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” This is just true, true, true.
Meanwhile, the hip hop lyric, which I’ve heard a thousand times, today clearly ran up against another mantra I’ve held dear. For the longest time, I’ve locked in on what the great philosopher and light saber wielder Yoda once told Luke Skywalker: “Do or do not. There is no try.”
So, yes, I know that I’m debating whether to trust in the wisdom of a tiny, green, backward-talking fictional Jedi or go with a single lyric from a hip-hop artist that changes his name like it was a television channel. I’m not arguing that I’m on shaky ground here. But I think there’s some great insight to be had in what P. Puff Daddy, Diddy, Diddy Money, Sean, Sean Puffy Combs, had to say in this song.
It feels like a very careful word choice. Maybe it was just convenient that it rhymed with “put yo hands high” but I think it was intentional. He didn’t say, “Feels like there’s nothing that I can’t DO.” He said “TRY”.
I’m sorry Yoda. I love you man. But as motivational as your call to action is, I think Diddy got it right this time. There’s a space between doing it and not doing it. And it’s called trying it. It’s that moment when you step out in faith and give it a shot. That’s where I’m teetering. Leaning in to try. Still wrestling with what it is I’m supposed to try. Maybe it’s as simple as trying to trust. Guess I’ll see soon enough. Hopefully!
I was reading a powerful piece of fiction this weekend called “The Sense of an Ending” by Julian Barnes. In the following passage, the narrator is examining the effects of time as he looks back on youth. I took it as a deeply insightful symbol for my life, specifically my pursuit of God’s will.
“We thought we were being mature when we were only being safe. We imagined we were being responsible but were only being cowardly. What we called realism turned out to be a way of avoiding things rather than facing them.”
My last post was about fear. I suppose this one is about how I rationalize it. How I cover it up and tell myself it’s not so much that I’m afraid but that I’m just doing “the right thing” and not being irresponsible, spontaneous and rash. How I perpetually postpone God’s requests because I’m not in control of what happens if I follow through.
The narrator closes the passage by saying, “Give us enough time and our best-supported decisions will seem wobbly, our certainties whimsical.” I can surely imagine a future where I look back and say, “Wow, what a flimsy, irrelevant collection of excuses I had for not doing what God called me to do, for not being obedient.”
I was just introduced to a great quote that sums this up rather well. I don’t know where it originated as a phrase, but Nike has used it on billboards. It’s short but brilliant.
“Yesterday, you said tomorrow.”
When I read that for the first time, it was as if God were speaking directly to me.
Ouch. That one hurts.
There was a knock on the door. I hesitated, because usually a knock on the door in the middle of the afternoon is one of the following:
1. Someone selling something, like security systems, girl scout cookies, makeup, you name it.
2. Neighborhood kids wanting to know if our kids can come out and play.
3. Someone wanting to share their religion with me through witness.
I get most uncomfortable with that last one. It’s easy enough to say, “No thanks we don’t need any” or “Not today, maybe tomorrow” but I find it more difficult finding the right words for someone who is going door to door selling salvation. I’ve never been a fan of banging on doors and sharing religion, even if its the Gospel. My personal belief is that most people won’t and don’t respond well to having religion served up on their front porch. I feel like there are 100 more effective ways to “share the good news.”
That being said, some religions actively orchestrate this sort of activity. Heck, my church back home (southern baptist congregation) has always been committed to canvassing the neighborhood in this fashion. But it’s just not for me.
So, I opened the door. And of course, it was door #3: witnessing. As I was standing there, listening to the pitch, I was surprised by my reaction. Usually, I find the fastest way to close the door. This time I actually engaged in a conversation.
There were two women on my steps. One was there just to watch, evidently. The other woman stuffed my hands full of newsletters, fliers and other promotional material, and posed a simple question to me. “Do you think if you followed God’s commandments you would be happy?”
Before thinking too much about it, I responded with “No, no I don’t.” She was taken aback, obviously prepared for two responses: “Yes” and “I don’t know”. She quickly recovered and took me through several scriptures that were intended to convince me that I was wrong, that actually I would be happy if I followed God’s commandments.
I explained to her that, for me, it wasn’t as simple as that.I didn’t have the verse available at my fingertips, but my take on the situation is summed up very nicely in Ecclesiastes 12:12. There it says, “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”For me, it’s not enough to “follow God’s commandments.” The first half of that verse says, “Fear God.” For me, that suggests what the state of your heart should be. I’ve talked a lot before about obedience vs. discipline. It’s not enough to follow the rules. You have to be following the rules in obedience.
There’s a scene in the movie The Break Up where Jennifer Anniston and Vince Vaughn’s characters are arguing with each other about doing dishes. Vince finally concedes to Jennifer and says, “Fine, I’ll wash the dishes.” She replies, “I don’t want you to do the dishes. I want you to WANT to do the dishes.”
If you’ve seen the movie, you know what happens next. This concept of wanting to do the dishes blows Vince’s mind and sends him spiraling out of control.That’s where I’m coming from. Will following God’s commandments make me happy? No, not unless I’m following them because I WANT to. My front door visitor didn’t respond as wildly as Vince did in the movie. But she did look at me absently, as if she didn’t really get where I was coming from.
After an awkward pause or two, the women finally said goodbye and asked if they could stop by again to follow up. I winced inside and said, “Sure.” After all, the chances are pretty good that my wife will open the door next time anyway!
the way to (t)here 
What You Said