Uncommon Comfort

"Comfort, O comfort My people" says your God. (Is 40:1)

The holiday season can bring a sense of melancholy for so many. Whether it's missing those who are far away, those who have passed or simply not being the joyful person you feel like you ought to be, we have all experienced the holiday blues at some point.

Charlie Brown tells Linus at the beginning of A Charlie Brown Christmas, "I think there might be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel."

I think the reason this movie has remained a classic for so many generations is that we all have those Charlie Brown moments - wanting to feel the way we know we are supposed to feel - and yet, it seems so elusive at times. This tension, whether we admit it or not, is a tension of the "no longer but not yet" existence we continue to experience.

This is expressed beautifully in the christmas hymn, O Come O Come Emmanuel:
O come Thou Dayspring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee O Israel

The Dayspring is the light that is promised in Isaiah 60 and Malachi 4. It is the promised Messiah, whom the angels herald and the wise men sought. It is the fulfillment of all God promised when He said through the prophet Jeremiah that He would be our God and we would all know Him (Jer 31).

No longer do we shiver in the darkness that surrounds the world. We find ourselves with eternal lights in our souls shielding us from the oppression of night.

Any yet....

We are in the night. We are in darkness. We are in the tension. We are no longer, but not yet.

Jesus says "I Jesus, have sent My angel to testify to you these things for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright and morning star (or "dayspring")." Rev 22:16

He is the one whose advent brings us cheer and disperses the clouds of night. But He also understands where we are right now. He walked this earth and allowed Himself - O Light and Life Eternal - allowed Himself to be swallowed by the darkness so that He could be our source of comfort and peace. "For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weakness, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb 4:15-16)

Our response is also given. "The Spirit and the bride say, "Come." And let the one who hears say, "Come". And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who wishes take the water without cost." (Rev 22:17)

Like Charlie Brown, we think we are supposed to be happy this time of year, having a "holly, jolly Christmas" wishing  everyone  to "have a merry little christmas". The common response is to paint on a happy face and repress the moments that chill our spine or feel weighty or downright sad. The superficial smile makes us less like Christ - not more joyful.

Our Savior walked this broken earth not only to bring us His light, but to be with us in the darkness. He wants us to cry out "Come", with the faith that He is the anchor for our soul. In some ways, the melancholy is more appropriate than unfettered joy. We can sing "Joy to the world, the Savior reigns" but we can also sing "And in despair I bowed my head. There is not peace on earth I said. For hate is strong and mars the song of peace on earth, goodwill to men."

In the official Disney definitions of emotions from the amazing movie Inside Out, "melancholy" is that blue and yellow ball representing the mix of joy and sadness at once. Life is too complicated to try to define how we feel in binary emotions - either happy or sad. The uncommon comfort is not trying to be happy, but allowing ourselves to be melancholy and know that Christ fully enters into that state with us.

Emmanuel, God with us, means that God is here in this moment of tension and heartache. He is in this moment of sadness and disappointment. He is in this moment of loneliness and sorrow.

May we all walk with each other in uncommonly comforting ways this advent season. If we can do that faithfully for each other,  it truly will be the most wonderful time of the year.

Uncommon Advent

Date	Weight	Fat %	BMI
11/10/15	200.2 lbs	35.30%	30.6
11/17/15	201.6 lbs	33.30%	30.9
11/25/15	199.8 lbs	32.70%	30.5

Our Christmas tree is up and the house is decorated. This is a little late compared to our normal schedule, but it makes me happy nonetheless. All the holiday decor has me thinking about the coming advent season. I find it interesting that our secular society continues to find so much joy in preparing for Christmas. Sure, it's a commercial endeavor for most, but the excitement exists regardless of people's stated faith. And yet....

If Christ was just a wise man, a teacher, a prophet or a fable, we wouldn't have a month of preparation, federal days off, school on break for weeks and a frenzy of food, gifts, activities, performances and concerts. No one puts on the "George Washington Spectacular on Ice". I have never received a President's Day present. And even though this wouldn't be a bad idea, I don't gather the kids around the fireplace to read Martin Luther King Jr's "I Have a Dream" speech on the anniversary of his birth or death. You can write your doctorate on Julius Caesar, Plato or Alexander the Great. You can spend your life studying artifacts of ancient times and putting them in museums. History is full of the legacies of great and awful men, yet no one else on the planet, regardless of time or place, is celebrated the way Christ is celebrated. 

It doesn't make sense. If he was just a famous guy, he could still have a day and a history lesson in school. But no one hands out tracks trying to convince you to spend more time reading the work of Aristotle. If he was just an influential figure of the past, he would be a subject of academic interest, not the one followed by millions around the globe, thousands of years after his death. Christmas is meaningless without the cross.

So lets add the cross into the picture. What changes?

If I truly believe I have access to the Creator of heaven and Earth - direct communication with the King of Kings and Lord of Lords - love from Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace - then shouldn't my life look different? This view of Christ is wildly different than most people who are walking the earth today. If I believe that the God of the Universe loves and cares for me and is directly involved with my life, shouldn't everything be impacted by that?

Most of us in Christian circles pray occasionally, go to church regularly, volunteer in activities and listen to christian radio. We read the bible or devotionals and consider if it's applicable to our lives. We hope God will bless our efforts and try be good. We unintentionally think of God as a jeannie or Santa Claus and hope He gives us what we want in return for our small acts of worship and goodness.

But Paul didn't see it that way. He writes in 1 Corinthians 15 that if Jesus wasn't actually raised from the dead then we are still in our sin and we are to be pitied. If our faith is just something to get us through this life, then we are lost. We are fools. But, if our faith is real, then "to live is Christ and to die is gain". This is the Christ that Matthew and Peter and all the other disciples left their homes and jobs and lives to follow for 3 years, only to spend the rest of their lives spreading the word and most of them dying as martyrs. 

To live as if Christ is King is to make every breathe worship and every word a prayer. It is to live with Scripture as the highest authority over my life. It is to give each day completely to His will and purposes, believing they are His best for me. 

And it is to live into the promise of His mercy and love. 

It is experiencing His pleasure over me, no matter how I view myself. It is leaning on His wisdom in all things, and never having to feel overwhelmed. It is being so completely at peace with my identity in Him that I am free to do my best and fail, love others and be rejected and spend my entire existence serving with nothing to show for my work. 

The journey of advent is not about preparing our hearts to greet a baby in a manger. It's about living into the reality that the great I AM is here with us. Immanuel. And if that is true, then nothing should ever look the same again.

Uncommon Year

Today Purdue and Ivy Tech hosted an event at the Union for supply chain and technology students. We held this same event one year ago.

Last year, at this time, I was still the Dean at Ivy Tech, working 70+ hour weeks, traveling 2+ weeks each month, completely disconnected from my friends, family and even my husband and kids. I was literally sick with stress, having chronic infections, pain and migraines. My son was battling with spiritual oppression and our whole household was uneasy. I was wrestling depression, hopelessness and a sense of futility in my work and home life. Our church situation was difficult and we felt completely disconnected from the body of Christ. The best thing in our life was crossfit uncommon and I was almost never able to go to the one place that encouraged me. 

I went to this event in 2014 and spent time speaking to a colleague, Dr. Chad Laux, about what a path out of my current profession and into some other position (such as working in a staff role at Purdue could look like). He was very encouraging and I felt like there was actually a future for me that was in a healthy and balanced direction. There was no plan in place but I knew life couldn't continue the way it had been.

A few weeks later, everything changed.

I left my career at Ivy Tech and enrolled as a full time grad student at Purdue. Within a few days of making the decision, I had a part time job offer at Ivy Tech that would help supplement my income. By early spring, we had changed churches and were connecting better in that community. Our home life transformed with my ability to be home and not have to travel as much. I rekindled friendships and took part in life-giving activities that had been absent in my world for years. We found a small group that has already become family to us. My health dramatically improved and so did my mental and emotional well being. It was like a new life.

As I've been studying Job again, I see myself feeling sorry for his relationship with God. He feared God in the Old Testament sense of the word. He knew God was holy and above all creation, answering to no one. While he believed in his own righteousness, there was no framework for him to understand the concept of an intimate loving God during times of crisis. Either God dealt harshly with sinners and favored the righteous - or God treated all men with distain or apathy. Job had a good view of God's holiness but no real concept of God's mercy. His view of God didn't work when everything went wrong. And his "health and wealth" advice-giving friends were no comfort. 

But there is another view of God to serve as a framework for us today. This is the view of a Father so loving that He will Himself come down to save us even when we are rejecting Him. This is a Lord and Savior - perfectly holy and infinitely merciful and gracious. This is a God who walked into hell and back out, so that we could be with Him forever. 

I don't deserve the graciousness God has provided this past year. But I also didn't deserve His amazing presence with me the years before. God has always provided all of our needs - but so much more than the physical, never once, have we ever walked alone. Job didn't know what it was like to be loved. He thought he had earned God's favor through works - Job didn't know the meaning of grace. 

I cannot comprehend the multitude of ways God has interceded in my life and turned things around. Far less can I comprehend the amazing way He held me through that long period of toil and struggle. 

I simply cannot fathom the character of the God who loves me this much - but I know He is here. And this year, more than ever before, I am thankful.

Uncommon Death

Date	Weight	Fat %	BMI
11/10/15	200.2 lbs	35.30%	30.6
11/17/15	201.6 lbs	33.30%	30.9

 The truth is ugly, but there you go. It needed to be put down in black and white and theoretically anyone on the planet could view what I used to consider top secret information. I wrote last time about uncommon friends holding me accountable, but the first step is being accountable to myself. I hadn't weighed myself in eons, so on the morning of November 10th, I was't really sure what I would see. I spent the next week at a conference eating carbs, drinking beer and sitting in uncomfortable chairs all week. I didn't know what to expect on Tuesday, but I knew it wouldn't be good. It wasn't.

I don't have a goal weight or BMI or fat percentage. I actually am very proud of divorcing my self image from the numbers reported above. However, I do have multiple goals for my future activities. I'm planning on a marathon next November and a mini-triathlon in April. David and I have plans for a hiking trip in March where we would backpack over 10 miles a day for 3-4 days in a row. Every pound of fat I carry on my body is one more pound of force on my knees when I run; one more pound that gets pulled up and down the mountain; one more pound of resistance in the water when I swim. It isn't about a weight - it's about a lifestyle.

While my weight isn't my focus for an uncommon life, it can serve as an excellent barometer for my life activities. When I live without margin, I eat poorly and I rarely exercise. On the days exercise makes my to-do list, it is the first thing to be pushed off the list to make room for the inevitable change in schedule or crisis of the moment. Yesterday's inevitable change was my daughter asking me to play piano with her. There isn't a single moment I regretted for playing with her, instead of doing push-ups and air squats. But in the uncommon life I've been aiming for, there is enough buffer in my schedule that I can make room to talk to my son, play piano with my daughter or help a friend in need without sacrificing the things I know are good for me - that support my goals for a healthy and active life. So every Tuesday, I will add to this chart and publish it for all to see. I won't always write about it - but I feel like I have struggled with my weight and self-image long enough that it deserves some attention. 

The process of meeting these activity goals requires short-term sacrifice for long term gain. It means I give up the good to pursue the great. It means I say no to myself in the moment to say yes to the next step in the journey. Kristen Armstrong talks about her process of forgiving her unfaithful husband (THE Lance Armstrong) saying that she had to first act gracious before she actually felt gracious. She said " I can act my way into a feeling a lot more easily than I can feel my way into an action." This is an uncommon lifestyle - to choose to act in the direction you want to go, even when you don't feel like it or don't want to. This is echoed by a phenomenal Franciscan priest who takes it one step further, acknowledging that our will is not strong enough to move us into these actions - especially when we don't feel like it. Father Rohr writes "You don't become more charitable by saying to yourself, 'Be charitable'. You actually become more charitable by noticing when you are not being charitable and "weeping" over it." 

It is coming toe to toe with the places we fail and identifying the need to change that allows us to actually turn into a new way of being.

Cardinal Newman said "To live is to change and to be perfect is to have changed often." This spiritual dying to oneself is the key to an uncommon life. For a believer, change comes through the Holy Spirit helping us to die to ourselves and live into the righteousness of Christ. Less of me - more of Him. This uncommon death sees that only though dying to oneself can we truly live. My first blog quoted Jesus offering abundant life. But we cannot claim the life He offers when holding tightly to the one we have created for ourselves. I must die to the life I built up to claim the life He graciously gives me. And dying is hard.

I watched my grandmother die. She was the strongest woman I have ever known. She was a gracious, forgiving, patient woman of Christ who lived a life dying to herself - letting go of aspirations; releasing her hand from unmet expectations in marriage; confronting mistakes with a tenacious humility. She was willing to continually die to herself with the desire to live more deeply into the blessings God had for her in this life. And as her body failed her day after day, she became closer and closer to living the most abundant life in heaven with Christ. When she accepted Christ as a child, she was born again into a physical life of dying to herself through the Holy Spirit. And then, when she physically died, she was born again into an eternity of peace. These uncommon deaths were only the beginning.

It begins with the humble desire of recognizing the places my heart clings to the common (because it feels so comfortable and cozy and familiar) and embracing my powerlessness. From this empty hand and bent knee, I can ask for the Holy Spirit to give me the ability to turn from what was and die to the old, living into new life. I won't feel like it at first. It will be uncomfortable and new. It will make me face the dark places of my life and idols of my heart. 

But from this place of death, I can move towards the uncommon life.

Uncommon Friends

No one walks any road truly alone. We may have villains we have fought or tried to outrun or faithful friends who have traveled with us - but no one walks alone. An uncommon journey must have uncommon friends to accompany us. I think of JRR Tolkien's "Fellowship of the Ring" where Frodo is running off to certain danger, having left the fellowship of his friends behind. Frodo realizes how dangerous the road is becoming and decides to go on his own to save his friends. Samwise Gamgee, his companion from the beginning, sees him traveling by boat and follows by foot into the water, even though he can't swim. Frodo shouts back to him "Go back, Sam. I'm going to Mordor alone." Sam replies, "Of course you are, and I'm coming with you."

This is hands-down my favorite line of an uncommon friend ever penned to a page. Sam realizes two things - Frodo is trying to go off on his own AND Sam cannot let that happen.

In uncommon journeys, where the road is twisting and covered in branches; where there are dangers to face and certainly more danger unknown lurking in the distance; where the road often seems to be facing a steep grade upwards and holds few places to rest. Here, in these uncommon journeys, traveling partners are few. Many join us in the open wide spaces of rest and beauty. By the streams and blooming trees, it is easy to find company. But in the dark, hard places of life, friends become few and far between. Frodo knows that as much as he loves a few of his fellowship, the full group cannot make the journey with him. And like Frodo, our own lives have fellowships of people traveling by our side. Some are closer than family. Some are simply along the same road because of similar goals. And some remain nearby, even though you wish they would leave. The Uncommon Journey does not have room for this many travelers. And so, the empty road before you seems like a call to isolation. A call into difficulty or challenge which must be met in our own strength.

And then there's Sam.

Sam realizes Frodo's bravery (and foolish pride) in running off alone. Sam's commitment to his friend is more important than even Frodo's own wishes. Sam can see that whether Frodo wants it or not, the journey is not meant to be done alone. Sam chooses to put himself in harms way by following a dangerous path. But Frodo puts himself in more harm by not asking Sam to come along. Sam saves Frodo from himself. (And for those who know the stories, this is not the last time Sam will have to do so.) Sam is an uncommon friend who sees friendship as the quest. Frodo's quest was to destroy the ring. Sam's quest was to save Frodo.

Your uncommon friends do not have to share the same quest to be willing to walk it with you. And your uncommon friends will not be the ones who always tell you what you want to hear.

Uncommon friends hold you accountable to yourself. They reflect a truer version of reality - a deeper reality and are willing to push forward when others pull back. Uncommon friends say the words that hurt and heal all in the same sentence. When Sam replies "of course you are, and I'm coming with you" he is both affirming and contracting Frodo all at the same time. He is making a bigger commitment to Frodo that Frodo wanted to receive. He is revealing the truth of the nature of the task that Frodo didn't want to admit. He is loving Frodo beyond what Frodo was able to accept.

Some of us are blessed to have uncommon friends in our spouses. I have a husband who walks each road with me, no matter how hard the climb. And yet, I am even more blessed to have some uncommon friends who will enter into this journey in a different kind of love. A love of accountability. A love of truth-telling. A love of reflecting my failings not to discourage me, but to support me as I reach for something more. An uncommon friend won't let you give up.

At the culminating moment of the journey to destroy the ring, Frodo collapses. He simply can't move on. Sam picks him up saying ""I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you."

Sam's mission was not to destroy the ring but to support Frodo. When it looked like Frodo might fail, Sam didn't let him give up or back down. He is willing to physically carry him forward. This is the ultimate act of the uncommon friend. The uncommon friend sees past the momentary discomfort or hardship and moves you forward when you have no power left in yourself.

Our world is a culture of excuses and exceptions. In the name of self-esteem, everyone is a winner and everyone receives the prize. When life gets too tough, we are surrounded by media full of reasons why it really wasn't reasonable to keep going. Failure is replaced with nearly infinite partial credit. The fatal flaw in this logic is that what seems like love and encouragement eventually gives way to a list of "might-have-beens" and "wish I had".  The uncommon friend is willing to have you get mad at them for the sake of your best.

I am thankful to already be able to picture the few faces who may be with me on this journey. I hope that I am willing to serve them in the same way they have so faithfully walked with me.

We all get the same 24 hours in a day....

I'm at a conference for technology and met with an amazing group of women this morning in a "Women in Technology" sub-group. During the introductions, quick connections were made in common themes of our research and our lives. Many of us either had or were pursuing PhD's, while working at least part time and married, most with children still living at home. Comments on the number of projects left undone sitting on our desks, having more ideas than time to work, feeling stretched beyond capacity and recognizing the lack of personal time were all echoed throughout the room. One woman wished she had more than 24 hours in a day. One woman wished she could just live without sleep. One woman wanted a "time-turner" like Hermoine had in the Harry Potter series. I made the observation to the group that no matter how many hours we added to our day, we would still be overwhelmed, overextended, with projects left unfinished or barely started. The group laughed and we changed topics, but I was very serious. Time is not the problem. How we manage our time is the issue.

I was in a room with amazing, brilliant, successful women but this issue impacts both genders - we don't give ourselves enough time and space to be people. It isn't just a problem of maintaining a work/life balance anymore. It isn't simply adding up our to-do lists and seeing we have 28 hours of life packed into a 24 hour day. We live in a over-stimulated, information filled society that makes space, time and silence so rare that they are uncomfortable. My pastor was preaching on the idea of rest, commenting how people can't stand in a line without looking at their phones. So I tried. I stood in a Starbucks line and willed myself not to look at my phone. I was successful - there were 2 TVs, a radio playing music and a person with a cell phone screen so large I could easily read the news article on their screen while maintaining the social etiquette for personal space. I didn't need my phone to distract me - I simply had to have my eyes open in the room.

However, it was this recent drive to Pittsburg - over 6 hours in a car by myself - that started me formalizing the Uncommon Journey. While many of these thoughts have flitted through my brain for months or even years, it wasn't until I had over 6 hours of alone time that I could create a substantial plan for the journey. I needed alone time.

But we need more than just alone time. This isn't 15 minutes to put in your planner. We need extended time without distraction to experience a level of focus that is nearly extinct in our society. The first hour of the drive, I had background music on and I was processing my morning, the drive, the timeline for my trip, the to-do list for the week, and a million other thoughts. After that hour, I was finally relaxed enough to simply hear the music I was listening to in the car. After about an hour and a half of listening to music (now 2.5 hours into my alone time) I actually began to have focused thoughts. The bits and pieces that had been flying through my brain were now ordered and I could approach them, one at a time, and actually experience a time of relaxed focus.

Our society isn't bad a time management. We are bad at sustained focus. Living in perpetual fragmented thought is common.

To achieve my goals doesn't require more time in the day - it requires less on my list.
To exercise my gifts and talents doesn't require me to join one more thing - it requires me to leave everything else.

Some have defined insanity by doing the same things but expecting different results. Well, I am certifiable when in comes to time management. I keep thinking a new planner, a new schedule, a more rigid structure will help me meet my goals. And it fails. Every single time.

I need to do less to move along on this Uncommon Journey, not more.

While I can't drive to Pittsburg every time I need to think, I can retrain myself in how I look at each day. Maybe with unscheduled blocks of time that are fiercely protected will make it possible for me to have a focused thought without a 2.5 hour lead time. Maybe built in times of silence and solace can retrain thoughts to stop whizzing through my head and instead remain stationary until I can process them. Maybe sustained activity, focused in one direction, can help make those moments feel more natural and come more easily.

It will mean less of things I like.

It will mean saying no. Or maybe saying, not now. But not everything I enjoy (or am good at, or have done in the past, etc, etc) aren't all the most important things to me now. Changing seasons of life doesn't mean perpetually adding responsibilities to my list. Changing seasons in life means that some things get carefully packed away, clearly labeled, and placed at the back of the closet in my mind, to wait until it is time to pull them out again. Just as my closet can't fit all four seasons worth of clothes at one time, my brain can't process being all things to all people at one time. I can't be all versions of myself, no matter how good or successful or important I think they are, simultaneously.

The Uncommon Journey is the road less traveled. And it is only one road, not a curly-q of meandering paths and tangential trips.

Nichole Nordeman, in her song "Brave", begins "The gate is wide, the road is paved in moderation. The crowd is kind and quick to pull you in. Welcome to the middle ground, it's safe and sound and until now it's where I've lived." We all live here. This is common.

The Uncommon Journey is narrow and covered with fallen leaves and twigs and overgrown bushes. It's uphill and you can't see the end from where you stand. But, oh, to see with fresh eyes the world around me and the purpose of each day. To hear the falling leaves, the chirping birds, the quiet breeze. To notice how the light creates shadow and feel the coolness of standing in the shade. To sit. To breathe.

Is there really anything better than this for at least a few of those 24 hours we are given?

Common is Easy

About a year ago I joined a CrossFit box, Cross Fit Uncommon. In their introduction, the owner of the Box writes: "A healthy productive life is one that is intentionally created. No one happens across great range of motion or strength, throughout the entirety of their lives without making some conscious decisions to hone those skills. "

Something about that statement stuck with me, even as I failed to grasp how profound the "uncommon" lifestyle would be. It was only recently that I started to see how common life becomes when it isn't intentionally created. Beyond health and fitness, all of our existence tends to gravitate towards the path of least resistance without us even noticing. The idea of intentionally creating our life for more is something echoed in the bible in countless passages. One of my favorites comes from Hebrews where the author writes in chapter 12 verse 1, "let us also lay aside every encumbrance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us".  Galatians 5:1 says, "It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery."

Both of these verses give a picture that there are two paths - one which comes naturally and easily and can entangle or enslave us. A second, which we are made capable of choosing in Christ, which requires effort on our part - standing firm, running the race. So every follower of Christ, regardless of what passions He has put on your heart or gifts He has given you, is called out of the normal into something intentional and purposeful. Jesus says in John 10:10, "The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly."

This Uncommon Journey is about more than what we experience all around us. It is more than what the world offers us. It is more than what come naturally to us. It is intentional living a life more abundantly than what we could ever find in our own power. But to experience this life is more than just setting lofty goals or congratulating each other on new-found freedom. It's even more than breaking free from the bondage of sin and our past baggage that holds us down. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 9: 24-27, " Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.  Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.  Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.  No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." 

Paul sees that living life abundantly happens through self-discipline and an attitude that is pursuing victory. He knows that simply plodding through life is not enough. It is intentional and purposeful living that moves us closer to the life Christ intended us to live. It is through discipline and self control that we can experience the fullness of life and the blessings He wants for us.

So what is common in my life?

- Common is choosing what is easy and comfortable and familiar instead of choosing what is possible through hard work.- Common is eating and drinking what I enjoy, knowing full well it holds me back from what I know is good and healthy.- Common is spreading myself too thin because I hate saying no and I'm afraid of what people will think if I don't join in with what everyone else is doing.- Common is trying to earn my acceptance before God and before others by constantly being busy and trying to produce more.- Common is longing for the destination but dreading the journey.- Common is vision without discipline...

This blog is a catalog of the uncommon journey. The road of effort and work with joy - of discipline and integrity - of pursuing the great instead of embracing the good.

Welcome to the Uncommon Journey.