In Convenient Discomfort

I have a nail and a screw embedded in the rubber of the same tire,  on my barely three-month old car.

We kind of take it for granted that we're safe in the things we have: our homes,  our cars,  etc.

Three days after a near-fire in my garage,  on top of a slow-leaking tire,  I had the epiphany that God's answering my prayer to keep me riveted to Him.

Humility is huge.

It comes continuously, on the heels of every mistake.
It comes with the realization of our dependence on community.   Not for what we get,  but in the giving;  where we realize just how much we have to give.   The humility comes from just how much we've received as well.
It comes in the form of advice from friends,  provision in the form of just enough,  & knowing yourself well enough to know you don't know it all.

In our false sense of security,  when things don't go our way & we end up at the tire store getting four new tires, we find ourselves in the discomfort of a new place.  One where we don't know anyone,  where the noises and voices are foreign to us.

The beauty of realization shines through, when I understand that this may not be where I thought or hoped I'd be today,  & this is not part of my normal routine.

But this is normal for someone else.
To hear the joking behind the doors leading to the work bays.
To hear the workers questions, advice, & evidence of a shared passion or skill, just confirms their comfort,  their familiarity.

Just because I am unfamiliar with what they do,  doesn't mean they're valued any less, or any less important.   On the contrary - without them,  how many of us would be stranded where we are,  or half-way to where we're headed?

How many people serve us,  in some capacity,  day in & day out,  yet they go unthanked,  or even worse,  treated like somehow they are less-than?

ALMOST EVERYONE.

Grocery store clerks,  gas station attendants,  restaurant servers,  tool booth attendants,  the list can go on & on.

This is where gratitude kicks in for me.   Whether someone is "getting paid to do that job", they're still doing it.  For me.  For you.   And they're still human,  just like me & you.

Wouldn't that make them just as "important" as we think we are?

Notes on a Resurrection

Death on a tree...

  

   Made from dirt

   Walking the earth

   Just as we were meant to be.

   Seductions offered, choices made... 

      Death came on a tree.

Three days in the ground...

   Dead and buried in the ground

   Living what we think is life, but unable to be found

   Unaware of the mirrored stone that binds us where we are.

   We try and try, but the stone we don't know we carry leaves scales in our eyes...

      We can't see the error of our ways.

The stone rolled away...

   Lo and behold, by grace alone

   The mirror shatters, the scales fall away

   We now understand the Way.

   So much to learn, shocked because we can't earn...

      Rescue and safety from our own bondage.

Resurrection...

   Living in light 

   Now we can really see that it's not about me

   A seed once planted in the dirt of my heart

   Grows into the tree that I carry

     That pierces me

     That lifts me up

     That gives me a new perspective

         

          Shows me Life.

     

Good Friday, Do or Die

We sure do like to "do" stuff, don't we?

We invest in courses, books, programs, and degrees that teach us how we can "do" this, or how we can "do" that...
We pour ourselves into our work, and call it "doing our job"...
We focus on our "outreach"; we worry if our "missions" are effective enough...

We continually add to our to-do lists, whether personally or corporately motivated to do so, hoping for the shallow satisfactions of feeling productive.

And if we're not "doing" something, we're plagued by guilt.
(I'm not immune to this.  It's Friday at 2pm.  I'm still in my pajamas, totally throwing my to-do list in the air.)

The social atmosphere of today, at least all of it that I'm exposed to, is one of action; be it socially-, mission-,  career- or goal-oriented.  We're surrounded by this mentality, and taught this from a young age.  This has been modeled for us, and this is what we're modeling for our children.

In our rush to "do" more, our self worth becomes identified by what we DO, instead of who we ARE.

How ironic, today being Good Friday, that Jesus cried out for us, "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do."


We look at the Scriptures to see that Jesus met the needs of the people He encountered.  We're so quick to jump on board with this, because this is something tangible that we can accomplish.  This is what our performance-trained brains, as well as the passing paradigm, tell us.
The gospel accounts tell of Jesus feeding the crowds with the loaves and fish.
Yes, Jesus fed thousands of people.
Want to know what he did next?

HE LEFT!!  (He didn't sit around, telling the people to keep coming back so he could supply their basic needs over and over again, calling that one thing he did his ministry.)

Matthew and Mark's accounts say that he jumped on a boat with the disciples and hi-tailed it out of there.  Luke's account doesn't say he left, but the loaves-and-fish account is followed by the sentence, "Once when Jesus was praying by himself..." (- my guess?  He left.)  John's account also tells that Jesus left the scene.

Why do we overlook that???
Probably because it's easier to follow the expectation to "do as Jesus did", instead of finding out why, or what happened next.
Probably because we come from a society that compartmentalizes, breaking things into easily digestible nuggets - (it's easier to memorize that way.)

What we fail to pay attention to, is that Jesus did everything He did for two reasons:
1)He knew who he was.
2)He only did what he saw his father doing.

It wasn't to make himself look or feel good.
It wasn't to model a new kind of ministry.
It wasn't to shock and awe people with something that went against the very grain of society (even though it very much did).

Jesus did all these things to shine the light of a new reality into the darkness of life for people bound by religion.

I really want to tear into the fish and bread story, but I'll give my cliff-notes.
(I will tell you that I see a lot of Jesus rolling his eyes, in all four accounts.)
Jesus knew who He was, and was listening to God.
What is God all about?  Community. (I would think 5000 people could be a community; a big one, but a community never the less.)
What else is God about?  Provision.  Love.
I find it fascinating that it was a child who had the fish and bread.  And that this child had something the community needed.  And he gave it. (That's my take; I really don't think he'd be mentioned in scripture if he put up a big stink about someone taking his food...)
Anyways, this kid gives up what he has, because the community needs it.
And it's enough.  It's more than enough.

What if the story of Jesus feeding the 5000 was a model of community, instead a model of ministry?

We're so quick to "do what Jesus did", when we don't even fully understand what he did, why he did it, and what that meant to the people around him.  Not to mention that so many of us wander around not knowing who we are, trying out different avenues of activity or "doing" all kinds of stuff, thinking it will tell us who we are, trying to apply to our lives lessons that don't make any sense because the setting was different.

A couple years ago I heard a pastor from overseas say that we Americans work ourselves into [forced] rest.  I agree.  We run the cycle of doing and doing and doing until we crash, spent and exhausted, with no fulfillment; so as soon as we're able, we get right back out there and do it all over again.
Talk about going around the mountain!

What if the priority was changed from "doing" to "being"?
If all we're focusing on as the church is teaching how to do, without teaching us how to be, then we're just "doing church", instead of "being the church".

We can't "be the church" if we don't know how to "be", how to abide.

And we can't know how to "be" if we don't know who we "are".

In order to know who we "are", Christ only asks that we do one thing.  That IS one thing he modeled, and we celebrate/remember it today.

All the years of hearing that I was created for a purpose, that I was loved, that I was forgiven, didn't tell me who I was.  In a sweeping moment of clarity, all that did for me was let me know that every bit of my screw ups in my past had a reason, all that I had done wrong in my entire life was to be learned from, not lived in. 
I tried for years to do this, and tried to do that, hoping that I'd understand who I was.  (See above in the working to exhaustion bit.)
It's funny, looking back, I can see that I had to understand that my past did not tell me who I am today.
That person I thought I was, I had to kill;  I had to crucify all my selfish wants, wishes, desires, my pride, and even my dreams.

Of everything I wanted, I wanted God more.

It was only then, by hanging myself on the cross, that I really live, and continue to learn who I am, and all the fullness of that.



Psalm 46:10
"Be still and know that I am God."
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
BE.

Decisions, decisions. ..

Disclaimer: I'm writing this in response to some stuff that has happened in my life, and the people around me.  There is a specific audience.  If you are wondering if it's you, then it's not you.  It is in no way complete, or absolute, or the only way to handle situations.  If it doesn't apply to you, or even make sense, then, dear reader, chalk it up as the writings of some other yahoo on the internet, and move on.

Our lives are based on, & the result of, the decisions we make.   Sure, we all have to deal with the effects of other people's decisions as well,  but for the most part, our life is what we make it.  

Every moment is ripe with the opportunity to learn from the situations we're in;  to either learn not to make that same decision again, or we can choose to make better choices for our lives.

Some of us pick up on this dynamic early in our lives,  while other people have to go around the mountain over & over again.  (Aaaaand over and over and over again...)

[Rabbit trail.  What, or WHO, is the mountain?  Sorry.  Shiny things.]

We all come to pivotal moments in our lives, where we have to make a decision to change things.  If you're at one of those moments/days/weeks/months in your life, this little list may help you assess some things.  Or maybe it won't.  Either way, do with it what you have to. 

If you find yourself in a situation that seems vaguely familiar, or even if it's the downright same, you have to ask yourself some questions.

(Take this as a sort-of self-assessment.)

1.  What was my response to this situation last time I encountered it?

2.  Will I be making the same decision again?

3.  What brought me to this situation?

4.  If I make the same decision this time, as I did last time, what am I expecting to be different?

5.  If I make the same decisions as I did in the past, why should the situation turn out differently this time?

6.  What did I learn, or not learn, the last time I was in this situation?

7.  Who am I seeking counsel from?  Do I have someone that I trust enough to keep me accountable through the decision-making process?  Am I being completely honest with them, so they can help me in the best way possible?  And, am I listening to them?

8.  Am I a different person now, compared to the last time you were in this situation?

     -  If so, how?

     

     

It's always helped me to move into the next stage of life by understanding what brought me to that stage, as well as keeping a firm hold on the lessons I've learned along the way - to be read "applying them".

Hope this helps... someone.

The Last Day

I left my job today.

Venturing out of a life of security, stepping into a decision of faith.

It's funny; the last couple days have been a whirlwind of people's shock, tying up loose ends for my replacement, and an overflowing out pour of what I probably least expected:  love.

********

I never in a million years would have thought that I would end up working in a manufacturing plant.
My military career was pretty much spent outdoors in the maintenance world, and I guess that's the way my mind was geared.
On top of that, years of hearing stories of my mother-in-law's experience working in an Ohio factory made me cringe at the possibility of that line of work.

So when God threw the opportunity at me, I stepped up to the plate, and took a swing.  My excitement of being in the game distracted me enough, that it was my first day at work before I realized that here I was, somewhere I never thought I'd be.  I found myself back in maintenance to my (surprising) delight, surrounded by the people I am most familiar with.  The hardworking, knuckle- and ball-busting people who are usually the least appreciated, but so very crucial to the very operation and success of the organization they belong to.  The mushrooms - kept in the dark, and fed crap, yet still grow and thrive.  Their positions demand innovation, as they are the ones who have to do more with less, as the business culture of today expects this without words.
Theirs is a world I am painfully aware of, from the inside.

It was that moment that I decided that I'd be who I am really am there.  Happy.  Positive.  Corny-funny.  Optimistic.  Someone who offers a different perspective.  I wanted to be a source of joy, a person who exuded peace, & an inkling of hope in a place that I had mistaken for a dirty, monotonous place.  I wanted to take my familiarity with their world, and inject my skills, strengths, personality and perspective into my job, hopefully, naively wanting to make their jobs easier / better, as my position was one of vision and planning.

*********

I am quickly reminded of why I took the job in the first place... the people.

I love people.
I love being around people.
Experiences, stories, & perspectives of everyone around me is what delights me.
I love seeing how relationships and friendships develop and grow when the perspective of myself being the center of my universe is removed.

One of the things that's so important to me is encouraging people, to let them know their value.   Even as I write this, I realize how many times I failed; how many opportunities I missed.
There's so many people I would pass by daily, who's names I never learned, who's smiles I'll never forget.  They are etched on my heart forever.

The people I worked with made this job an amazing experience.  Caring people.  Humble people.  Grace-full people.  Selfless people.  Hardworking people.  Faithful people.  Hilarious people.  Dedicated people.  Frustrated people.
Amazing people.

Working with various people throughout the plant, learning people's strengths, their humility in admitting their weaknesses, hearing their ideas, seeing their seemingly un-reciprocated devotion,  I can see how I've been surrounded by a large group of people who's potential remains unknown, and therefore untapped.

If the worth of a company was measured solely by the people who worked at that company, that company would be world-renowned, and people from all over the world would be fighting to get in the doors.

********

The people I was lucky enough to work with every day - my life is richer now because of them.  Friendships that will stand the test of time have been forged in that place, and for that reason, every one of the bad days, and every bit of the frustration was worth it.

Selfishly, I'll admit, my goal was to work there, and in the meantime, affect someone's life.

It turns out, they have all affected mine.