“Today, by God’s grace, I am not focused on my weaknesses, but on the strengths God gives me for His glory and the well-being of everyone. I will be upwardly-focused and outwardly-focused today.”
I tend to beat myself up for my weaknesses. This, of course, makes my weaknesses much stronger.
So, because my weaknesses are becoming stronger, I focus on them even more intensely. Round and round the mulberry bush I go.
If a strategy or habit isn’t working, it might be best to try something else. If a strategy or habit is making the problem worse, it would definitely be best to try something else.
My mom used to get after me sometimes when I was growing up for being too concerned about myself. She even thought my attempts at improving myself were sometimes too selfish. I have long since realized that she was right.
But how to get out of this hellish echo chamber? Is there a twelve-step group called “Self-involved So-and-Sos Anonymous”? Perhaps there should be. Or, perhaps, such a group would only be perpetuating the problem?
Two things might help my preoccupation with my weaknesses, faults, and failures. One is outward focus. Be grateful for things that are not me. Be interested in other people. Do some kind things for people every day. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Little kindnesses are often all that is needed to brighten someone’s day.
And then, there is the upward focus. I find that, when I look around in an appreciative and kindly manner, I am more about to look upward toward God. The converse is also true. Sometimes, I have to look up, even when I’m not sure that God is even there. Faith is not the absence of doubts. Faith is trusting God even when you have profound doubts.
Don’t get me wrong. It is sometimes necessary to look inward, and is not always an easy thing to do. However, if that is all that I do, if I never look around or up, I am going to get terribly cross-eyed.
I need to remember what Mrs. Whatsit said to Meg in A Wrinkle in Time: “Meg, I give you your faults.” Accepting my weaknesses, my faults, is absolutely vital to looking upward and outward.
“Nothing good ever happens at the crack of dawn.” (The worship leader at our church.)
“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark [even before the crack of dawn, DTEB], Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance.” (John 20:1, NIV. Words enclosed in square brackets are my addition.)
Our worship leader at church, in response to a comment made by someone else, said, “Nothing good ever happens at the crack of dawn.” It is fairly obvious that Jay is not a morning person.
My wife (who is not a morning person either) leaned over to me and whispered, “I don’t know about that. What about the resurrection of Jesus?”
I am not sure that the worship leader had thought through the theological implications of his generalization. Apparently, there are some good things that happen at the crack of dawn, or even before.
How about you? Are you cold and in the dark? Do you feel like it isn’t even the crack of dawn yet, and that nothing good could possibly come to you? That the dawn may come for others, but not for you?
I have often felt that way in the past myself. Not so much anymore.
My youngest son, who hasn’t had much to do with either his mom or me in the past six years, called last night, and is planning to come down to see us today. Will he follow through on that? I don’t know. He has a good, kind heart. I am completely responsible for the alienation that he and his brother and sisters feel toward me. I suspect that our youngest is very conflicted.
But the dawn came today anyway. And though the sky is overcast, and the future uncertain, I have hope and peace and joy and gratitude in my heart. Why? Not because my son is coming to see us. He may or may not. I have hope and peace and joy and gratitude—and they have me—because of Jesus and his resurrection. Because my sins, which were many are all washed away (as the old hymn says). Because my hope and peace and joy and gratitude are in the God who is with me right here, right now.
And because of this God, because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, I can face anything and any time—even the darkness before the dawn.
“in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, New American Standard Bible, 1995)
A gentleman I met at church told me a wonderful story yesterday. Seems he was a pastor, and served in San Diego. He said, “San Diego is beautiful, but it is a desert. If you see green, you know that it’s a park, and you’re going to have to pay at least $5.00 to get in.”
Then, he was called to a little church in eastern Tennessee. As his plane was flying into the postage-stamp of an airport, he was absolutely struck with wonder at all the greenness. He assumed that it must all be man-made parks.
He turned to his seatmate, a man who was from Tennessee, and asked, “What is that down there?”
At first, the man didn’t understand the question. When he finally did understand, he said, “That’s Tennessee, Son.”
Now, I have been to both San Diego and eastern Tennessee. They are both drop-dead gorgeous. But this story sent me down another path. What if virtually every place is gorgeous? What if ever place is a garden of wonder? What if it isn’t greenery, but gratitude, that makes a place, a relationship, a life-situation, lovely?
There are times when I’m mowing the grass in my own back yard when I feel such gratitude for even having a yard. This, despite the fact that a lawn-care professional who was bidding on a contract to take care of it wrote that we had “a nice crop of weeds.” Sometimes, even weeds can be lovely—at least to me.
When I was little, my dad complained about my praying before we ate. “That boy thanks God for the birds, and grass, and weeds, while my food gets cold!” That little boy is still alive in me somewhere.
And then, there are my relationships. I have so many friends. I have a wife who loves me, and whom I love. I have activities that I love to do—blogging for example. My life is full and deeply satisfying.
So, from this particular angle on this particular day at this particular moment, I look down and say, “This is my life. And, oh, is it ever beautiful!”
Friday, March 23, 2018
I was in a car wreck yesterday afternoon. I was on a stretch of divided highway on SR 32, just about two miles from my home. I was passing a car that was in the right lane, when he tried to turn left into a driveway. His car clipped mine, and sent me into a spin. I ended up in the ditch, hitting the bank on the other side of the ditch pretty hard.
However, the hospital tests didn’t turn up anything problematic. Thankfully, the young man in the other car was not hurt either.
After we left the hospital, my wife and I went out to Steak and Shake, I ate too much, drove home (in my wife’s car), went to bed, and slept well. My car is probably totaled.
Life is a fragile, temporary business. It can come to a screeching halt quicker than I can write this sentence, quicker than a car wreck can happen. We/I should give thanks for it every day, every moment.
So, what will I do with today? I will enjoy the day, and appreciate every moment. I will do regular stuff as well as I can. I will love as if it matters, because it does matter.
In the rock musical “Godspell,” there is this wonderful song “Day by Day.” In the song, the singer says that she/he is praying for three things: “To see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly, day by day.”
‘Nough said. ‘Nough prayed.
Do you ever feel like you’re in over your head? “All the time,” you say?
Me too—especially right now!
Of course I feel overwhelmed most of the time, so the phrase “especially right now” should probably be deleted. However, I’ll let it stand. I’ve lived an overwhelmed life.
Teaching a fairly large group of people at the university, trying to help out more at Bob Evans, trying to be a good house husband, especially in light of the fact that my sweetheart is caring for her mom two days a week, teaching Hebrew, caring for the dog, trying to be helpful to my 12-step friends, trying to read the Bible all the way through this year, trying to work out more at the gym, trying to start a Celebrate Recovery program at our church: I am getting overwhelmed just listing stuff I should be doing. (Writing a blog post is one of my daily tasks, so I guess I am doing something after all.)
I suspect that I am not terminally unique in this regard. Some of you who made time to read this blog may be saying (and with good justification), “Would you like to trade lists? I think I like yours better!”
Well, I can’t help you much, if at all, with your list, and perhaps you can’t help me with mine. Probably, trading wouldn’t help either. However, what I can do is to think a bit differently about my own list. Who knows? This may also invite you to think differently about your own list.
So here are three suggestions that I am making to my own fevered soul. Perhaps they may be helpful to you as well.
Suggestion # 1: Do triage, and do the most important thing first. This is probably also the task that you find the most difficult to start, keep at, and finish. When I was little, I didn’t like green beans. Still don’t. So, whenever I am served them, I eat them first (except, of course, when I eat my dessert first).
This does not work well for everyone. Some folks find it best to do some smaller, more doable task first. This gives them enough of a sense of accomplishment to tackle the next task, and so on. Whatever works for you is what you should do.
Suggestion # 2: Give thanks for having too much to do. I tend to complain about having too much to do—or having what I at least think is too much to do. But what if I took the attitude that I get to do all this stuff?
I have heard that there is an old Tahitian proverb that says, “May you be banished to idleness!” I am told that this is the worst thing you can so to a Tahitian.
I had a friend who spent several years in prison. He said that it wasn’t really horrible—except for the boredom. Feeling overwhelmed in profoundly uncomfortable. Feeling underwhelmed is not easy either.
Suggestion # 3: Bear in mind that God may be giving you more to do than you can do in your strength, because God doesn’t want you to do things in your own strength. Trusting God is a daily task for me. Feeling overwhelmed keeps me humble and open to trusting the one who is never overwhelmed with anything. There’s a wonderful TobyMac song (“Beyond Me”) that makes precisely this point.
“Call it a reason to retreat
I got some dreams that are bigger than me
I might be outmatched outsized the underdog in the fight of my life
Is it so crazy to believe
That you gave me the stars put them out of my reach
Call me to waters a little to deep
Oh I’ve never been so aware of my need
You keep on making me see
It’s way beyond me
It’s way beyond me
Yeah it’s out of my league
It’s way beyond me
It’s way beyond me
It’s way beyond
Anything that I got the strength to do
In over my head keeps me countin’ on you
I’m leaving the sweet spot sure shot tradin’ it all for the plans you got
Is it so crazy to believe
That you gave me the stars put them out of my reach
Call me to waters a little to deep
Oh I’ve never been so aware of my need
You keep on making me see
It’s way beyond me
It’s way beyond me
Yeah it’s out of my league
It’s way beyond me
It’s way beyond me
You take me to the place where I know I need You
Straight to the depths that I can’t handle on my own
And Lord I know, I know I need You
So take me to Your great
Take me to Your great unknown
It’s way beyond me, way way beyond me
It’s it’s way beyond me, way way way beyond me
Yeah, You gave me the stars, put them out of my reach
Called me to waters just a little too deep
Oh, I’ve never been so aware of my need
Yeah, you keep on making me see
It’s way beyond me (it’s way beyond me)
It’s way beyond me (it’s way beyond me)
Yeah, it’s out of my league (it’s way beyond me)
It’s way beyond me (it’s way beyond me)
It’s way beyond me (it’s way beyond me)
It’s way beyond me
You take me to the place where I know I need You
Straight to the depths that I can’t handle on my own (it’s way beyond me)
You take me to the place where I know I need You
Oh take me to Your place
Take me to Your great unknown”
My affirmation to God for today is as follows:
“Today, by God’s grace, I am consistently doing the next right thing, so far as I can discern the next right thing. I am swimming in the deep water today. The Everlasting Arms of God are underneath me, teaching me to trust and swim.”
It’s a bit warmer today. Anybody care to join me for a swim? We’ll break the ice if we need to!
A couple of weeks ago, we experienced a water main break near our house. The water was off for several hours. I decided to go up to where the men were working. No, I wasn’t going up to ask how long the water be off. I went up to thank them for coming out on a Saturday morning to work on the broken pipe and to thank them for keeping the aging pipes working most of the time. They seemed very touched by my gratitude.
I suspect that the utility workers had been the victims of a trap that I frequently fall into. Too often, I take things for granted when they work, and complain loudly when they don’t. I don’t like that about myself, but there it is. I think I’m doing better than I used to concerning this, but I am still very much a work in progress.
I grew up without running water. Sometimes we ran for the water, but more often we moseyed. So, I really appreciate having running water most of the time.
Both of our presidential candidates talked about infrastructure, and it is an important topic. Our fathers, grandfathers, and great grandfathers laid the pipes that we use today. We should be grateful to them and for them. And we should be grateful for the men and women who now try to keep the pipes more or less serviceable. And, maybe—just maybe—we should be willing to shell out some money for some major infrastructure projects ourselves.
Perhaps, however, there is another kind of infrastructure that needs some maintenance: the utility known as “gratitude.” Perhaps gratitude is a primary means of God conveying God’s blessings to us. It isn’t so much that God only blesses those who are grateful. The truth is that God is good to everyone and everything God has made. “The LORD is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all his creation” (Psalm 145:9, New Living Translation).
Rather, it is the case that only those who are grateful realize that God has blessed them. An ungrateful attitude very quickly becomes a practical form of atheism. In discussing the sinfulness of humankind, Paul wrote, “Yes, they knew God, but they wouldn’t worship him as God or even give him thanks. And they began to think up foolish ideas of what God was like. As a result, their minds became dark and confused” (Romans 1:21, New Living Translation).
When I fail to be grateful, I sabotage the pipe through which God’s goodness pours. Of course, once I’ve done that, I am free to complain as much as I would like. However, God is not the problem.
How is your gratitude infrastructure?
“Isn’t it enough that you brought us out of Egypt, a land flowing with milk and honey, to kill us here in this wilderness . . . ?” (Numbers 16:12)
Sometimes, slavery looks pretty good.
The Bible tells about how God freed the people of Israel from bondage in Egypt (Exodus through Deuteronomy). And God’s plan was not simply to free Israel from something. God was also planning to bring Israel to something: their own land, a land that is frequently portrayed as “flowing with milk and honey.”
However, like all of us, the Israelites had a problem: themselves. They could be thankful for short bursts, but for long periods, they complained. In fact, as has often been noted, the most popular outdoor sport of the Israelites during their journey from Egypt to Israel was complaining.
What did they complain about? It would be easier to say what they didn’t complain about. They complained about food—no food, the same food day after day, no meat. They complained about water—or, rather, the lack of water. They complained about the desert they were in. They complained about the “fact” (??) that they were not able to conquer the land that God had given them. (Their penalty for this complaint was that they were not able to conquer the land that God had given them.) They complained about their leadership.
Now, before we go all smug and judgmental about this bunch of complaining Israelites, we should perhaps take a look in the mirror. Let’s face the truth on this Monday morning: Complaining is an equal-opportunity employer. We are all of us complainers. Paul warns believers of this in 1 Corinthians 10:1-13, referring to the stories of complaining (and other sins) Israel committed in the wilderness. Paul also warns us that such complaining and other sins are common temptations that all people face (verse 13). When someone asks me how I am, I sometimes reply, “Can’t complain!” However, I can complain and sometimes I do.
So, in Numbers 16, some of the Israelites are complaining that Moses has not brought them into “a land flowing with milk and honey” (verse 13). In fact, the complainers refer to Egypt as “a land flowing with milk and honey” (verse 12).
Say what!
Wasn’t Egypt where they were slaves? Wasn’t Egypt where they felt the whip of the taskmasters? Wasn’t Egypt where they had to throw their male babies into the Nile River to feed the crocodiles? Wasn’t Egypt where they had cried out to God for deliverance from Egypt and all it stood for?
Well, yes. But now that the Israelites were in the wilderness and not yet in their own land, Egypt looked pretty good. Will Rodgers was a funny guy, but he wove a lot of truth into his humor too. For example, he said, “We are always yapping about the ‘Good Old Days’ and how we look back and enjoy it, but I tell you there is a lot of hooey to it. There is a whole lot of all our past lives that wasn’t so hot.”
So, how about you and me? How did you and I used to be enslaved? How do we remember said slavery? Perhaps we complain because the past seems better than our present. (Notice the operative word in the preceding sentence: “seems.”)
However, maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe past slavery seems better because we’re complaining. Maybe if we practiced the fine art of gratitude right here and right now, we would discover a more realistic attitude toward our past, our future, and (most importantly) our present situation.
“THE NAME OF JESUS AND A SPIRIT OF GRATITUDE”
“And whatever you do in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (Colossians 3:17, New English Translation)
Reading other people’s mail is fun. Sometimes, however, we find out that the letter is to us and about us after all. In Colossians 3-4, the Apostle Paul is giving some helpful advice about how to live to an ancient church. Strangely enough, it might also speak to decisions we all need to make on a daily basis.
Take Colossians 3:17 for example. N.T. Wright comments,
“Paul now closes the circle which began at 2:6. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus. Acting ‘in someone’s name’ means both representing him and being empowered to do so. Paul’s exhortation is therefore a salutary check on behaviour (‘can I really do this, if I am representing the Lord Jesus?’) and an encouragement to persevere with difficult tasks undertaken for him, knowing that necessary strength will be provided. And again Paul adds the characteristic emphasis: giving thanks to God the Father through him. The centre of Christian living is grateful worship, which is to affect ‘whatever we do’: since ‘all things’ have been created through Christ and also, in principle, redeemed through him, Christians can do all that they do, whether it be manual work, political activity, raising a family, writing a book, playing tennis, or whatever, in his name and with gratitude. Jesus, the true divine and human image of God, the one whose cross secured our reconciliation, is the reason for our gratitude, and the one ‘through whom’ we can now offer that gratitude to the Father himself.” (N.T. Wright, The Epistles of Paul to the Colossians and Philemon : An Introduction and Commentary, Tyndale New Testament Commentary, pp 150-151. )
While this is true, it is also true that, if I cannot do something “in the name of Jesus,” I had better leave it alone. And I can think of lots of things that I can’t do in the name of Jesus, or with gratitude.
One of the less serious examples is playing word games on my computer. Now, I hear someone saying, “Good grief! What on earth is wrong with that?!”
And the answer is, absolutely nothing—for some people. However, I am not some people. I’m just me. And the person that is just me doesn’t have any business playing word games on my computer. The reason is simple: I will tell myself that I’ll just play one game. However, I know I’m lying to myself even when I say this.
Two hours later, I’m still playing, my hands are hurting, I’ve neglected to write my daily blog, I haven’t been preparing for classes I’m teaching, I haven’t done some tasks around the house that need to be done, and I’m feeling horrible about myself. So, I play some more word games on my computer.
If I can’t play word games in the name of Jesus, or if I can’t be thankful for doing so, then I had better leave it alone. While it is very important to say and do things in the name of Jesus and with a spirit of gratitude, it is also very important to refuse to say or do things when I can’t, with a good conscience, do them in the name of Jesus with gratitude. Stationed beside the doors of all choices are two armed guards: The Name and Gratitude. I need to let these guards do their job.