gratitude

The Hours

I was reading an article this morning about food, exercise, and how we spend the hours of our days & weeks. And it has me thinking about things other than food and exercise, but still how we spend the hours of our days & weeks.

Often times, we try to out-train a bad diet (and when I say “we,” I mean “me,” but my guess is I don’t just mean me.) For instance, let’s say we are on a diet that allows 2,000 calories. Saturday, we go out to dinner and have an extra piece of pizza and dessert, and end up with 2,800 calories for the day. That’s ok, because we figure we’ll just go to the gym and get on the elliptical machine to work it off. For a 200 lb man to burn those 800 calories, it would take upwards of an hour of haaard work. Or we could’ve not eaten the dessert.

Do you have an hour to spend doing cardio penance? Probably not. We have lives, we’re loving people. But I do go to the gym, and that must count for a lot. The fact that socked me in the stomach was this: if we spend an hour a day, that is less than 5% of our day. Most of us go 3-5 times/week, which is 1.7-2.9% of our weeks. That is shocking, right? Do we think of it like that? I go 6 times/week, and that’s so much, but it’s only 3.6% of my whole week!!! The rest of the time – the other 162 hours – is a much more significant picture of my total fitness. I could be eating well, parking further away from stores or work, taking after-dinner walks, yoga, I could be doing lots of things. 3.6% is really surprising and, honestly, disappointing, isn’t it?

Church will be 1 hour on Sunday (if we can make it this week). 0.5%.

This is obviously not to add any guilt. We certainly don’t need any more of that, too many of us already carry the “not enough” mindset into spiritual matters. What it is is what my very good friend calls “black coffee.” Church isn’t the only way we commune with God. So, do we read our Bibles and/or pray an hour/day? Think about our percentages caring for our relationships with Our Creator. If we spent 3% caring for our children or our spouses, do you think you’d be particularly close? I watched a documentary today on Christianity in America that was an hour and a half. I spent more of my day watching TV than I did working out, yet I’d define myself more as a Man Who Goes To The Gym than Man Who Watches TV. But what does the AI on my phone say I am? That I am a Man Who Loves? (The Machines don’t care what I say or think I am, only where I am and what I do.) We are far more than our AI would ever know, we’re more than just percentages or location pings, but percentages, location pings, checkbooks, and screen times are undeniable factors in the mosaic that is our identity.

I am often struck by these types of stories, that lead down paths of examination and introspection. Everything is connected and asks it’s own questions. And as a general rule, when answering the BIG question, “Who am I?” it’s important to start with some black coffee, even if it burns going down.

How Do You???

I’m guessing nobody wants to read another post on youth sports, and how my coaching career came to an end (a loss), or how I feel about it today (a melancholy peace, if you know what I mean, and I know that you do – it comes from a 2 Hands practice, where you hold all emotions, sometimes seemingly conflicting, at once.)

And we’re discussing righteousness on Sundays, and why and how the spirituality spills out of us into real life, in real time. There’s so much more to think/say/argue about that, right? But the site prompt today is: How do you express your gratitude? And I like that, so we’ll start there.

Let me ask you, first – how do you express your gratitude? We all have a practice of thankfulness…well, when things are going well, we know what shalom means, and we feel positive, joyful, engaged, creative, hopeful, then we all have a practice of thankfulness. When we don’t, when we’re discouraged, isolated, restless, overly cynical, we forget that practice. That practice is also how we get back and find our hearts and souls, how we find our identities, who we actually are.

However today is, when your eyes are open, creation is crackling with the energy of the divine, and you are totally aware of who you are and who He is, how does that gratitude come out of you? Do you sing in the car? Walk a bit more slowly, with your eyes up? Do you call your friends? Are you on social media more or less? Do you move more, eat better? Do you give compliments? Hugs? Kisses? Do you dance in the kitchen as your make your dinner? Do you pray more or less? Read your Bible more or less? What kind of music do you listen to? Are you aware of time? Fun questions, right?

And what I’m thinking about connection is that the way I began this post only seemed unrelated. Nothing is ever unrelated. I coached those kids for lots of years, lots of games, and sooooo many practices, and that was absolutely an expression of the gratitude I feel at being here, now, and these gifts I have been given (gifts I could never deserve.) The kids were some of the best gifts, so caring for them and loving them was simply a grateful response. Writing to you, on this blog, is an expression of thanks. I sing and dance a lot, too.

And, as long as we’re at it, that’s what righteousness is. It is a response to the gifts (all of them, but especially the BIG one: salvation) we have received. We have a new life, so maybe we could live it as thanks, treating ourselves as His, royalty, wonderfully made. So often we make everything so complicated. If you give me a great gift, I treat it with care, giving it a place of prominence in my home. It is valuable to me, so I act that way. I don’t hit it with a hammer or kick it down the stairs. I am thankful and that is reflected in my behavior.

Our lives are our most obvious expressions of gratitude, and we might as well live them as the masterpieces He already knows we are.

What I’ve Learned About New Things

This is a fairly significant week for me. Decisions have been made (I think) and these particular decisions will lead to many more. I have coached youth sports for 10+ years, in different fashions. I’ve been an assistant and the head coach, baseball, basketball, and soccer (even though I really, really don’t care for soccer). Mostly, this was out of necessity, 8 year-olds need parents to volunteer, whether they know/understand the game or not. Then, I stuck to baseball, because I have been a ballplayer. Which was pretty great, we won lots and lots of games, and lost lots and lots of games. This year is the first one where the team I’m coaching doesn’t include either of my sons. That’s sort of unusual, and if I’m honest, I don’t even like baseball too much anymore. But I love the boys I coach, I’m invested in their lives, and I know that I’ll create a safe environment where others might not.

The season began and I figured it would be the last, because leaving my family to go to the field was nearly impossible. But then the kids were great and I changed my mind and this was where I belong, in ministry with bats and balls. Then no way, then of course, then then then, changing with the wind. The kids were always great.

There have been many, many moments and experiences, faces and families, lesson after lesson on being and becoming the human beings they will be, who we will all be. And when I think of those things, I am overwhelmed, honored, grateful, and sad, in equal parts. I have been so blessed to receive the gift of being able to do this, and I will choose to do it no longer. In any small way I have made an impact, the people I’ve done it with, and for, have impacted me to an exponentially greater degree. I’m a very different person than I was 10 years ago.

But I’ve been a baseball coach, and moving from that includes a gigantic amount of uncertainty. If I were to leave, then what? Without this particular ministry, where would my ministry be? (Because having none is obviously not an option.) What exactly would I do with this time? And what about the program we’ve built? Or the league? Who knows? But is it my responsibility to answer that question, should I be one who knows?

You know this feeling, right? If we don’t know the next steps, it’s hard to move. We like control and we like to know where the next steps lead. But that is a luxury we don’t always have. And it doesn’t make those invisible next steps wrong. Sometime we are loudly called to “Go,” but the “Where?” is met with deafening silence.

(This is just volunteer recreational baseball, so maybe it’s not this dramatic. But if you know me for more than 10 seconds, you know I don’t believe in “just” anything, and everything we do, and how we do it, can have massive, world-changing consequences. Showing up and speaking fresh words into someone’s life in a significant time/space can transform reality forever. “Just” anything? Never.)

So, as far as those questions, I don’t know. But I will. Some of those questions aren’t mine to answer, no matter how loud the should’s and supposed to’s and what if’s and but’s scream. The ones that are are exciting and wide open. I wonder.

This weekend will be the last games for us, and for me. That feels fine, I don’t mind complex, complicated situations that require many more than 2 hands to hold. Of course, there will be loss – all change is loss, after all – that has to be mourned and reconciled and integrated. And it will be. I’ll keep growing, I’ll continue to be a very different person that I was, than I am.

And as we know very well, when I write “the last games,” it is in pencil. Maybe the “Go” isn’t what I think it is today, or maybe it’s just about asking the questions as to why I do what I do. Endings are always hard, and New Things are always scary, right? Even asking the questions are scary. But we do all of this, ask, answer, grow, go, together.

Piggies

So, about these guinea pigs. Their names are Hazel and Pipkin and they’re 3ish years old, they look like big hairy loaves. They don’t move very much, which I understand is pretty usual for guinea pigs. When my son cleans their cage, he puts them outside in a makeshift fence (with a top so nothing can snatch them) and they lay right down and eat whatever grass is under them. They talk to each other, and to us, in language that sounds like an 80’s video game. I read that they’re such social creatures that you need to have 2, otherwise they die of loneliness, and I don’t care at all whether that’s scientifically true or not, it’s wonderful.

They’re so cute it makes me want to cry.

Anyway, I often feed them. I give them romaine lettuce, baby carrots and Timothy hay. After washing the veggies, as I walk towards them, I call/sing, “Gir-rulls…gir-rulls…” and they lose their minds, beeping and squeaking and chewing on the cage door as an answer.

I open the door and try to pet them while they run (sort of?) around the cage, then I give them a carrot each, which they grab, then drop and wait for the next thing. Then I drop the lettuce, and they immediately move on to that, then come back, waiting for the next thing. That’s when I put the hay into their bowls and they dive into that. For a bite or 2, then wait for the next thing. There is no next thing, so they go back to what they have. Hazel likes the lettuce most, Pipkin is a carrot girl. They always forget these facts in greedy anticipation of what’s next. They don’t want what they have, they want what’s next.

And that’s too often like us, right? We have all we need, yet there’s always something new that we need, a new model, a new solution for a problem we had no idea we had. It’s hard to be here, now. We love our spouses, but there’s this new exotic co-worker… This job is what I worked for, but that one might be better. We can’t even tell, because we’ve stopped looking at this blessing some time ago, longing for the grass on the other side.

I heard grass has an interesting property that makes it appear greener from a distance. So, the grass actually MIGHT BE greener on the other side. But as we already know, once we get there, it’s just grass, and the grass we left now looks greener. As Yoda profoundly remarked about Luke Skywalker, “All his life has he looked away…to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing.” And of course, while he was saying it, Luke was daydreaming!

Arthur Schopenhauer writes, “A man is never happy, but spends his whole life in striving after something that he thinks will make him so; he seldom attains his goal, and when he does, it is only to be disappointed; he is mostly shipwrecked in the end, and comes into harbour with mast and rigging gone. And then, it is all one whether he is happy or miserable; for his life was never anything more than a present moment always vanishing; and now it is over.”

These piggies are never happy, but spend their whole lives striving after something they think will make them so. Where are we? Are our minds on where we are, on what we are doing? Hmm? Are we truly with the people around us, sitting at the dinner table? I’ve seen many people leave relationships, careers, schools, churches, faith because another one was shiny and green, only to find it not so perfect, after all.

In Genesis 28:16 (you know we’d end up here, right?), Jacob wakes up and says, “Surely the Lord was in this place and I was unaware.” He missed the beauty of the gift he’d been given, the gift of the present moment. Let’s not do that, ok?

Great Big Walking Eyeballs

I wrote this on my lovewithacapitall.com site, but I’ve changed my mind and will share it with you, too, with some minor changes. It’s about the ministry of my life and the Angel, which have, at the very least, some overlap. There isn’t any separation in our lives, all of us is spiritual. I heard once, “we’re not human beings having a spiritual experience, we’re spiritual beings having a human experience,” and that’s pretty much accurate. (As Google tells me, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said it. I don’t know who he is, but he’s right at least once, in this regard.) I called it 23 there, and I wouldn’t call it 23 anymore, now I call it Great Big Walking Eyeballs. I hope you like it, and it has some value to you:

Last time, we talked about “having it all” or living a “best life.” This week was my 23rd wedding anniversary, so maybe I should have mentioned that. 

I’m a simple man, and that’s a very good thing, because my life and ministry is primarily to climb into complicated, chaotic situations. Work, for me, is connection/relationships and doing the best I can to bring peace and hope into anxious, hopeless, sometimes wildly unstable spaces. This is work, but the thing about having identical personal & vocational missions is there’s no division between on and off. I don’t really have days off. But I don’t want them, either. To me, this is purpose, and it’s heavy and keeps me up lots of nights, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

However, the truth is, I couldn’t do it at all if my home & marriage wasn’t a place of physical, emotional, spiritual rest. It’s very difficult to step into the drama of others when your life is dramatic. There’s simply not enough left to fully engage with the storms others are facing when we’re exhausted with our own raging storms. If I’m being punched in the face, it’s harder to notice your fight, much less come to your aid. 

This brings me to the Angel. She’s calm and easy. It’s 23 years but sometimes feels like 100, but, at other times, feels like I met her yesterday. I don’t know what 23 years feels like, or should feel like, but what I know is that I am completely, totally open with her (as the Bible says, “naked and unashamed”), but I also get butterflies when I kiss her, just like the first time.

I told her last night, that I very often focus (at least out loud) on the ‘lover’ aspect of our relationship. I very often tell her how oevrwhelmingly foxy she is, and how 23 years of marriage has done nothing to dull my attraction to her. So, on a public pie chart, that’s the biggest piece. But on the one no one sees, the pie chart of my heart, it’s probably a smaller piece than the rest. She’s Proverbs 31. She’s my best friend, my partner, an inspiration and model for living a life of faith. She gives strength by simply being who she is in a world that isn’t always kind to the beautiful ones. Kind, merciful, the best mother to her sons and mentor to the rest of the people lucky enough to be in her orbit. She’s creative and confident, capable, talented, driven, brilliant, gifted hand over fist by her Creator. Did I mention knock-down gorgeous? How staggering is it that when thinking/speaking about the best looking woman in the world, her looks aren’t anywhere close to the best thing about her? We’ve built a calm life from the ground up, so that we can walk anywhere, enter into any circumstance, because this soft, loving home is waiting to refill all we’ve lost outside.

We make choices, right? The best choices feel easy & obvious in retrospect, but upon further inspection, require days and years of building. The path to our particular marriage and home is marked with uncomfortability and perseverance (only Heaven knows how many arguments and sleepless nights this path has contained, so far), where it might have been easier to check out (in whatever form “checking out” takes) than to keep building. “Having it all” certainly isn’t easy, and it has lots and lots of exit ramps, but those obstacles don’t make it less of a blessing. Maybe they make it more. More significant, more valuable, more our own. 

I have no idea why she’d marry someone like me, but I don’t care about that. It’s her problem, not mine. My responsibility in all of this is to remain grateful, with wide open eyes to this amazing life I’ve been given.

Maybe that’s as good of a life philosophy as we can find, when it comes to religion, faith, and grace. There isn’t really a why to answer, “Why me? Why us?” But that’s not for us. Our responsibility in all of this is to remain grateful, with wide open eyes to these amazing gifts (life, forgiveness, righteousness, salvation, 2nd life, resurrection, each other, the Church, the church, love, acceptance, belonging, talents, passions, love, more love, all the love) we’ve been given. Like great big walking eyeballs full of thankful tears.

Youth Sports: Facepaint, Silver Chains, and Ugly Arm Sleeves

This baseball team I get to coach presented a choice for me last year. The boys wanted to use eye black (a product usually used in a black strip under the eyes to reduce glare) all over their faces, creatively, as a form of self-expression. We had bats and cats and stripes and anything else you can imagine in the field.

When the boys asked me if we would allow them to do this, my instinct was, of course, absolutely not. I am fairly progressive in many ways, but very old-fashioned in many more. And in all things sports, I consider what my dad would have thought, and he would’ve lost his mind. Against that instinct, I said yes. The other coaches disagreed, but we continued to look like a traveling band of KISS impersonators.

I waited all year for repercussion from the league that never came. We are 2 games into this season, and received our first stern email. This year, in addition to the paint, we now have big, loud silver chains and ugly arm sleeves. One wore a hoodie under his jersey on a 95 degree day. I can’t possibly tell you why, but I don’t have to. I responded to the president of the league, with, “I’ll/We’ll do whatever you say, but…” And explained our/my position.

Let me say this, to begin, my team is a collection of The Best Group of Young Men you’ll ever find. (It’s interesting, as the team turns over and the boys are replaced, the groups changes yet they remain “the best group of young men you’ll ever find.” Interesting, right? Maybe 15-16 year-old boys aren’t the worst.) But they’re also kind of squirrelly. Just like I was, and you were, and my dad was, and his dad was, and these kids sons will be. They’re funny and weird, terrific human beings. Of course they’re creative and individual, they are created in the image of a wildly creative God.

My position is, among others, we are totally respectful – of ourselves, each other, other teams, the league, the game. Other teams shout, “drop it!” shout at and fight with each other on the field, sass their coaches, curse at umpires and parents, walk on the field and give far less than their best. Do you know the term “try hard” (as in “he’s such a try hard”) is meant as a derogatory slur? Some 15-16 year-old boys are the worst.

But our team loves each other, stands and supports each other, never puts down other teams, runs out routine ground balls, does everything any of the coaches ask them to do (even when it means they sit on the bench and be good teammates or wipe the paint off and take off their chains), it is an entire roster of “try hards.” Other teams can’t get all of their players to the field on playoff game days, we have everyone for every practice. My dad would’ve LOVED them, he would’ve come to watch them play every day, paint or not.

I’m writing this here for a specific reason. Maybe you already figured this wasn’t totally about eye black and youth sports. So, my last reason was, of course, evangelism. Kids can be pretty disrespectful and generally like video games and Snapchat more than they like activity outside. Participation in all sports is down everywhere. If we want them to play, maybe we need to understand who they are and where they come from, what’s important to them. Maybe we can’t continue to cling to our notions of how we used to at the expense of today and tomorrow. Maybe nobody cares. What is the message? We might need to remember Why instead of How.

My son used to have very long, unkempt hair that I may not have always liked. BUT he is the best person you know. He’s kind, respectful, generous, empathetic and loving. When that’s who you are, who cares how you wear your hair???

This team loves baseball, plays exactly the ‘right’ way (whatever that means…my dad probably knows), and is beautiful to everyone. They come out and know, without a doubt, that they are valued and loved by their coaches. (I wonder if kids might be pretty disrespectful because they’re insecure and scared to death that they’re inadequate, and desperately need the grown-ups to listen and show them they’re worth more than they ever dreamed.) My team is who you want them to be. When that’s what you are, who cares if their arm sleeves have wolves on them??? Sometimes the traditions we hold so tightly to can become a different sort of chain around our necks.

In the Scriptures, Paul had a similar decision to make. He was bringing the Gospel of peace and love, salvation, reconciliation, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, to new people & cultures. He learned who they were, what they cared about, who their gods were, what they were reading, and on and on. He knew them then he went to where they were. He cared for them and connected in ways they could understand. We’re not only coaching baseball, we’re coaching the Gospel.

If we want people to open their eyes to Jesus (Who is already there, waiting) and His love (which is already there, for all of us)… If we truly want them to know Who He is and who they are more than we want to win… Maybe we can release the chains that we cling so tightly to and let them wear theirs.

One Time Thing

Today’s site prompt is “Are you a leader or a follower?” They have a new one every day. Apparently, to build a huge audience as an internet influencer, you have to create lots and lots of content. Anyway, the answer is, of course, both. We are followers (or as Paul says, ‘slaves’) of the Risen Christ, but we are leaders in the world. We lead others to the life we’ve found in Jesus – we lead to follow. I wonder if leadership, in this context, is actually more posting. Maybe we learn to follow through daily engagement. Which, strangely, is exactly what I intended to write about today.

One of the points that forgiveness is NOT, is a 1-time thing. It’s not now, today, and we’re finished. The wounds bubble to the surface after we thought they had disappeared, the weight climbs back onto our shoulders and hearts. This is not surprising. Eating right or exercise isn’t just something we do today and then never again. We don’t love our spouses or grow relationships once. Alcoholism, addiction, negative habits aren’t kicked on a Wednesday, they are confronted every Wednesday. Not just Wednesdays, every day, every hour, every moment. We transform through an endless series of choices. Nobody changes by accident, or without commitment to the process.

The older I get, the more I value consistency. I don’t think to show up is all that important anymore. I think showing up all the time is. Anybody can go to the gym for a good workout today, hardly anybody does every day. I recognize we shouldn’t go to the gym every day – rest is just as valuable. But it’s not rest without work, it’s just the boredom of stagnation and complacency.

A beautiful marriage doesn’t simply happen. And it’s probably not beautiful every day. Well, at least not in the ways we usually think. The beauty is in the pouring of ourselves, our love, into the other, even when they are sometimes, honestly, pretty hard to love. We’re also pretty hard to love sometimes.

The beauty is in the pouring of our love into ourselves, too.

As the wise philosopher Princess Leia says, “if you only believe in the sun when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.” If we only show up when we feel like it, the night will probably never end. We are worth it. Our divine call is certainly worth it. Forgiveness is worth it. The other is worth it. Growth is worth it.

So, we keep walking the path, following the way of Jesus. And as ministers of the Gospel, we continue leading to follow. Maybe the internet needs more influencers of this sort. A relentlessly positive influencer that speaks of this life, truth, love, unity instead of division, might be what we all need. And, like we always say, maybe we’re the answer to our own prayers. Maybe we should all say, “maybe it’s me,” a lot more often. Maybe the site (WordPress or Jetpack or whatever it is on your device or browser) is right, posting once in a while isn’t how anything works. The site that publishes my books says the same thing, that I’ll never sell books, that nobody will read my books, if I don’t keep talking about it, posting, showing up to the work. The Bible makes no distinction between spiritual and non-spiritual, probably for the same reason. We follow God all the time, or it’s just another hobby, like puzzles or video games.

I won’t post here everyday (it’ll make audio messages and announcements much harder to find), I’ll keep that once a week, but the lovewithacapitall.com site seems like a nice spot to jump in. Of course, the question is begged: do I have the time??? I seem to always have time to do online crossword puzzles or watch cult documentaries… I bet I have time to express my gratitude by showing up for a new ministry, too.

Distraction

Since I’ve been sick, I have some time, so I’m doing an awful lot of thinking about distraction. The last straw was yesterday, my Bible in my lap, reading Philemon until finally realizing I had no idea what I had just read. This wouldn’t have taken a monumental feat of focus. Philemon is 1 chapter, barely a page. (I think the letter is pretty funny, too. Paul is sort of manipulating a slave-owner, saying things like, “I could make you, but I won’t. Instead, I’ll ask…I don’t want you to do it because you’re forced to, but because you want to…I’ll pay anything he owes, and won’t mention how much you owe me.” Ha!Th)

But I’m sick, and as always, very dramatic about being sick. At the risk of oversharing super-gross information, there is absolutely no way that my head could store in 3 lifetimes all of the mucous that is coming out of me. Where does it come from??? It’s just produced from nothing at all, like the water, land & stars in Genesis 1. But all of it makes my head feel like it’s underwater, unable to think clearly and coherently.

Illness is simply one of so many. One of the biggest struggles of living a purposeful life is to maintain a focus on our call & mission. The constant barrage of stimulation that (may or may not) require immediate attention can keep us like animals frantically chasing the next shiny object. We live in reaction, intention is a dream, and days and weeks are lost to the blur of distraction.

There are people, with our drama, divisions, responsibilities, and breaks. Work. Our daily practices, spiritual and otherwise (even though there really is no otherwise – all of life is spiritual). Ministry. And on and on, right? There’s no end in sight.

What’s surprising is that all of these ‘distractions’ are good things. How can spiritual practice become an obstacle to our focus, or mission? When it becomes the point, the end, instead of the means to a greater end. We are called to love people, to have “dirty pens” (my paraphrase of Proverbs 14:4), and that dirt can sidetrack our call. Helping to carry each other’s burdens is beautiful, but the burdens can easily become dead weight. When ministry is solely a rote activity to check boxes and not an expression of gratitude or glorification, then it becomes distasteful and a tool of the enemy.

My sickness kept me from several appointments and opportunities. Of course, I needed the rest, needed to regain my health, but the fact is that there was a big cost. I think the main thing is to acknowledge those costs, to have our eyes opened to the spaces where our focus can be drawn away from our true love. Then we can decide. It can be anything, it really doesn’t matter what we choose. Sleeping last week was probably the more important thing for me, but any step towards bringing the intention and attention back into our lives is vital. Our work is simply another way of worship, as long as we make it so. Everything can be worship, as long as we make it so.

The reason music on vinyl is so great is not the sound. It’s the ritual. We decide what we want to hear, choose the record, remove the album from the sleeve, set the needle down, and become active listeners. We can become active participants in these gracious divine gifts that are our lives, and this can happen as soon as we say it does. It can happen today.

Something Happened

So, a bad thing happened. One of us had a car accident, and that happens. It’s an expensive lesson, but it is a space where life teaches out loud, and maybe someday, we’ll be very thankful for the lesson and the cost will be very low.

Before the sermon yesterday, I read the account of Jacob & his dream, from Genesis. This is not unusual, I refer to it often. But sometimes, the message of “surely God was in this place and I was unaware (Gen 28:16),” or, as I paraphrase, “don’t miss your life and the people in it (Chad 24:365),” hits differently.

Everything valuable in that accident was ok. The most valuable to me got in our car & came home with the Angel & I. The other valuables had minor damage to their vehicles, but went home, as well. There are a million ways that day ends where everyone doesn’t come home. I am grateful, in ways I can’t express.

When I read that passage yesterday, I nearly began to weep, because “What if…” The beautiful gift of this life we’ve been given, the beautiful gift of each other, can be very fragile, and what if (one of those million inexplicably horrific ways that too many have to endure)? Our hearts don’t seem big and/or strong enough to hold all of this love. But they are – we’ve been made in the image of our God.

We keep loving, and keep loving, and keep loving. Of course, it can hurt like crazy, where it feels like the pain won’t ever stop. And we love anyway. The only way to ensure this doesn’t happen is to be alone, and that won’t do at all. Being made in the image of a triune God means being alone is “not good,” according to Genesis 1 & 2. Loving with a whole heart, mind, and soul requires living with the possibility of the dreaded “what ifs.” I hope the “what ifs” never, ever happen to anybody. But I certainly do hope we all know the love that makes the “what if” so vicious.

The tears are an offering poured out from a fully present, engaged, working, thankful heart. A heart that is created to keep loving and loving and loving.

Instead, Offense

After the message yesterday, the Angel graciously (as softly as possible) informed me that, “You said 3 points, but I have no idea what they were. I only had 1.” This is not a strength of mine. I have lots of strengths, (well, several strengths), but easy steps to enlightenment isn’t one of them. So, here they are:

1. Embrace Your Humanness. We are human. We will fail. Julie Z. says, “Humble people have an ability to withstand failure/criticism because they have an inner sense of the value of being human rather than externals.” Externals are bumps, obstacles, utter failures, and they don’t mean there is something wrong with us, that we’re broken, or that we’ve let everyone down and have no value in the universe. It simply means we’re human, and we’ve taken a shot. That’s a very, very good thing.

The Gospel Equation is: God, Scripture, the Helmet of Salvation, our Value, Identity in Him > (is greater than) our circumstances and/or performance. For instance, my love for my son is exactly the same if he has 40 and hits a game-winner at the buzzer, OR if he goes 1-28 and they lose by 1,000,000. In fact, my love for him doesn’t change if he doesn’t play basketball at all.

The Action Step is to: Try something you don’t know how to do (learn something new) AND fail a lot.

2. Practice Mindfulness and Self-Compassion. “Mindfulness grows our self-awareness,” Julie Z writes, “by giving us permission to stop and notice our thoughts and emotions without judgment. If we judge what’s going on inside us, we paint a distorted view of ourselves.” We can change only if we can learn to see ourselves kindly and discover where our unhealthy/limiting beliefs are, accept them (and ourselves), and then transform them with Jesus.

Our Action Step is to ask ourselves what we think (about anything & everything). Why do we think that? Is it helping, hurting, limiting, or freeing? Be introduced to and pleased to meet you.

3. Express gratitude. Gratitude makes us less self-focused and more focused on those around us. In other words, gratitude makes us more humble and much less awful. The Action Step: Say Thanks…often.

In a sentence, learn who you are, learn who they are, take care of you & each other, and be thankful for all of it. You are created in God’s image…and so are they, and that is awesome. That’s probably why she couldn’t tell the difference between 1, 2 & 3. I can’t. Each gives and takes from the other, the lines that divide are blurred, and it becomes a kind of circle that feeds the circle.

Now, I’m writing today, not to restate yesterday’s bullet points, but because of a conversation over lunch. A man said to me that what he thought during the message is how he’d been playing defense, almost exclusively, and how he needed to send the offense on the field. (Maybe we all use and understand sports metaphors is because Sports are, without question, the American Religion.) What he meant is that he had been reacting to the changing landscape of his life – like we all do. When our schedules or circumstances shift, our days look different, our routines & practices are altered, and we adjust. When we finally adjust, things change again, and we return to GO.

What you may notice is that these 3 clear, easy to remember points require a tremendous intentionality. As far as I can tell, intention is the opposite of reaction. It’s hard to be thankful when work is upside down. And when the storms are raging, who has time to wonder what we think, or how we feel about it? Right? That’s why it’s so vital that we don’t just coast during the ordinary time.

We dive into Ephesians so that, when life flattens us, we either already have our helmets on, or we know to put them on right away, before we do anything else. We become the kind of people who see beauty, not for the perfect days like today, but for when it’s cold and rainy, so that our souls know to keep looking around for the divine. Our identity is deeply imprinted on us in practice, so that we don’t waver on game days, when we’re 0-4 with 4 strikeouts.

So now what? As always, the “now what?” is to love somebody. Reaction happens, there are sometimes entire seasons where we have to play defense, but maybe we can remember to turn the offense loose from time to time.