Written by Chad

10% More

Last week I told you about this leather bound notebook, a gift from my sister that I wrote quotes I find or ideas or things you say or do that I want to remember. Here’s one that’s very early in the book that might be particularly appropriate, here & now. Actually, it’s probably particularly appropriate whenever now is and wherever here is. It was originally said by a man named Hank Fortener.

Here it is: “How much is enough? The truth is…enough is enough, either now or never.”

I heard a statistic once that when people were asked how much income was enough, and the most common answer (from ALL income levels) was 10% more. Then, we could pay our bills and put some into savings and give to those charities we want and have a little left over to go out to the movies or to eat every now and again. Then, we would have enough. No matter how much we make, we think 10% more would be enough. We are always wrong, because then we neeeeeed another 10% more. It is never enough. If we meet somebody. If we get married. If we have a child. Or another. Or once they start going on the potty. Or going to school. Or once I get that job, that position. Or when I get that cleaner, that shampoo, those jeans. Or when we can retire…THEN, it will be different, better. THEN, we will have enough.

But it isn’t.

I don’t know when we learned that contentment is only found in more, but it simply isn’t true. If we are lacking now, right now, wherever we are, we will always lack. If we don’t appreciate what we have, the blessings, the people, the things, then we will never appreciate what we have, and any blessings, people, or things we receive/experience will pale in comparison to the next, the more that’s just around the bend.

Contentment is different from complacency.

Complacency is the mistaken belief that we are finished. That what we are at this moment is all we’ll ever be. That there’s no more to learn, discover. That we’re done growing. That (get ready for it….) it is what it is. Complacency has its roots in despair.

Contentment is security in our identity, confidence in our standing in the universe, stillness in our existence. We are content, peaceful, loved, and we belong here. We are on a journey and there’s joy and loss and fear and celebration and suffering at each step, but we continue to take the steps because there’s something going on here and we want to see what it is, but the journey itself is amazing and we don’t want to miss any part of this step, this moment, this snapshot of our lives in motion. The plant is beautiful today, it’ll grown into something very different tomorrow, but today, where it is right now is wonderful.

Complacency is a hideous lie. Contentment is awesome.

If we can’t (or won’t) dance today, what makes us think we’ll know how tomorrow, when the song changes? If we can’t (or won’t) enjoy that kiss, hug, or touch today, why would we assume tomorrow will magically bring a different response? No matter where we go, we are still there. The grass is never greener on the other side. The scenery might transform, but we’ll still interpret it through the same eyes.

So, what is it that we are waiting for?

My boy has been attending school 3 days/week at home (Tuesdays and Thursdays have been in person). Today is the last day. Monday he’ll go back full time. I’ll miss him more than he knows. I have absolutely LOVED him being at home with me. But Monday he’ll go because he must, and that’ll be ok, because we had this time, because we have today, and it is very, very good.

Before Me

Psalm 16:8-9 “I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells (rests) secure.”

Months ago, we began a study on rest that was supposed to be a day but turned into a season. I thought it would be great for everyone else, but I turned out to to be wrong about that, too. This series was pointed straight at my heart, and my life, and this Psalm showed up in a journal like a sledgehammer, on 10/16/18. (I know because I date each entry)

I was gifted this journal that has a passage per page and it has never been far from my side. Which is not to say I write in it often – I’ve had it for over 15 years!!! But I always come back to it and it never fails to inspire. Why don’t I spend more time writing in it? Who knows? There’s lots of things I should do, things that give immeasurably more than they take, that I don’t do and who knows why about those things, either? But that is a discussion for another day. 

Anyway, this Psalm said to often-shaken-me that if I were to only set the Lord before me, then I could be glad, joyful, and rest peacefully. Then, I could abide. Like the Dude (in the Big Lebowski.) 

This made perfect sense, like the lights were finally turned on in the dark room of my soul – an epiphany! – and I would never be the same again. I had attained some new level of enlightenment.

Until I didn’t. And the next season of dark soul rooms began. For me, this time of year is often a catalyst for discouragement and depression. I get shaken, not resting securely at all. 

And this is especially strange because I just gave a months-long sermon series on precisely this. Shouldn’t this be behind me???

Then, yesterday I opened my journal and the passage was Psalm 16:8.

Now, I have seen prayer/Bible verse journals elsewhere and I’ve never replaced this one because all of the ones I see in stores repeat the same 4 verses over and over for 200 sheets. This one is perfect, just perfect, because it does not repeat at all. No other verse repeats in the entire book. And here, 7 pages apart (7 pages!!) (7?!!? 7 is an awfully significant number, isn’t it?), the first repeated verse.

So.

Maybe it’s coincidence, a lazy editor not paying attention. And maybe a coincidence that I was less than diligent with my entries, until this verse hit me right in the middle of a search for answers, for hope. Maybe.

Or maybe it’s something more.

But the answer I did find was for my question, “shouldn’t this be behind me?” And that answer is, sadly, no. It’s a process, and maybe it gets easier and maybe the time in between gets longer and longer, but a life of faith is a daily submission, a conscious decision to lay whatever down and leave it there. And then, when we pick it up again and worry or try to control the whole world and everyone in it, to lay it down again. This time, we promise we’ll leave it down, right? But we don’t. Our expectations or fears or anxieties growl and pace in our heads yet again. But we lay it down, again and again and again, trusting God to take it each time.

And of course, He could take it and keep it. When we demand it back, He could say, “no,” but that’s not really what He does. He gives us the choice to weigh ourselves down with unreasonable chains, gives us the choice to carry it ourselves and also gives us the choice to give it to Him.

And when we don’t, and it hurts so much and steals our peace and I do not abide, maybe He is the ‘something more’ in the coincidences.       

 

New Years Revolution

As the wise philosopher, Bono, singer for transcendent rock band U2, famously sang, “All is quiet on New Years Day.” And it’s a good thing, too. How can a man properly examine what has become of his life amid all the noise and chaos of ordinary time? Obviously, he can’t and, I believe, isn’t supposed to. The intent of a culture of busy-ness and productivity is to beat us into submission, sedated by our own schedules and expectations. Anyway, all is quiet on New Years Day. And it’s a good thing, too.
I’m not one for a resolution, which is long gone by Valentine’s Day. However, my son mistakenly asked me if I have a ‘New Years Revolution,’ and I am always one for a revolution. So, this is my revolution.

First, resolutions fail because they are, usually, no more than throwing pennies into a fountain, no more than pie-in-the-sky wishes. They fail because there is no ‘Why’ to give any depth to the what. And it’s the why that matters, the why is the reason anything succeeds or fails, the reason we care. Lose 10 pounds? Because you want to see a smaller number on your jeans? Or because you want to live this wonderful gift you’ve been given instead of wasting it on the couch, or because you’re exhausted self consciously avoiding your life because of how you look in the jeans you already have?

There is a difference, and it lies in the why. The Scriptures begin with an account of the Creation of the everything. The interesting thing about this is that it’s a poem. We who are so enlightened, who are so educated, have now decided that we want our Creation story in scientific terms. What did it sound like when God spoke? Was there a Big Bang? What do you mean by a day? What about evolution? Dinosaurs? How exactly did all of this happen? But that’s not what we get.

We can read about music notes and theory, or we can hear “Round Here” by the Counting Crows. One gives us knowledge – and that is very important. One bypasses our heads and breaks our hearts – perhaps even more important.
An art museum isn’t Wikipedia. And it doesn’t try. The Scriptures, and the Creation account in particular, don’t try, either.

(Some places in this beautiful library are history, some are parables, some are letters written to specific people. Just like my library, on my bookshelf. I don’t have all non-fiction, or all graphic novels. The Bible is a library.)

They are linked by Truth, wherever it is found. In what actually happened, a story, a letter… Or a poem. Genesis 1 doesn’t tell us how, it tells us why. Why we are here, why we love what we love, why we do what we do. And it’s the why that matters. So, this is my revolution. I want to live a poem. I happen to care a lot about words and notes and theory, but those things only serve to bring me a step or two closer to having my heart broken into. I want to know how, but only in the service of the why. And it’s the why that makes these days far more than an existence. It makes them a life.