The Uncommon Journey

The Uncommon Journey
Wondering as I Wander

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Relentless vs. Restless

I was asked a question that has echoed my own thoughts often in this journey over the past few weeks - where is the rest? How do you give 100% in everything without feeling completely worn? Is there a difference between pushing yourself and pushing too far? Isn't listening to your own need for rest and respite important too?

I have two answers to this line of questioning - the theoretical that I know to be true and the functional of what I am trying to live out. I'll start with the theoretical.

If I am living free of fear, I should be doing less, I should be receiving more quality rest and I should be experiencing a higher degree of satisfaction and peace. Theoretically, the 100% all out life is easier than the life of fear. Here's a couple tangible examples from my own life: 

 - Every night at 8:00pm the crossfit workout for tomorrow is posted on Facebook. I look at it and immediately know whether or not this is going to be extra hard for me or hurt or be uncomfortable. If I am scheduled to go to that workout, I now have hours to worry about it. I can lay awake at night staring at the ceiling trying to imagine just how awful it will be. No rest there.

- There is tension in a relationship and I am afraid to go into those places that are difficult and strained. I want it to be better but I'm afraid of making it worse. My mind become preoccupied with how the conversation might go and my brain is busy swirling through scenarios of conversations (which almost always go poorly in my head). I worry. I can't sleep. I'm preoccupied throughout the day. I'm stressed.

- In effort to make sure people aren't disappointed in me, I say yes, even when I don't really have time or energy. I start filling up my schedule with things that are not what God is calling me to, but simply a reaction of mine - fear of saying no - fear of confrontation - fear of disappointment. And the time for other things simply disappears.

- Due to my pride and fear of losing my reputation, I have an expectation of how much I think I can do and how well it should be done. A party isn't just a party - it's the best party I've ever thrown and better than everyone else's parties. In effort to make sure I look great (or at least better than my peers) I have to go above and beyond, proving my worth. Solidifying my role as the best. And so every activity becomes a competition with myself and with others - even though no one wins at this game. I'm not doing extra because I want to - I'm doing more because I'm afraid of not being enough.

A life free of fear would eliminate so much of the crowding in my schedule. My sleep would dramatically improve and my mental state would be calm and peaceful. In this state, the relentlessly fearless life, becomes a serene and restful life. In the times that are now freed from my previously fear induced activity, I can enjoy a good book, a long walk or even an episode of Gilmore Girls with my daughter. In my free mental state I can be productive when I need to be productive and experience a rested mind when I don't really need to be doing anything. I can sleep in peace.

So how do I break the cycle? How do I determine what is busy work or fearful work and what is actual a necessity in life?

- Change the measure of success: I work full time (between 2 part time jobs), have three kids, a husband, a household to run and local friends and family whom I love. I can't also maintain a list of 6 or 8 or 10 things to do each day. I can do 3. Three things outside of my work and regular household routine. If I forget the fear of my reputation or rejection, I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. I can just do a normal day's worth of activity. And that means choices. I'm going to have to choose to not do things. I'm going to say no to people. I'm going to not have the "greatest" _____________ all the time. Some days will be more productive than others but I can't run myself ragged or perpetually feel behind.

- Stop comparing: 100% can look like a lot of different things to different people. When I say I want to give 100% to something, that is not a relative measure. It is a definitive measure set by how God made me. Mine won't look like anyone else's and therefore cannot be compared. I know when I've done my best and I certainly know how it feels to think my best isn't good enough. I need to let that go. It's not about trying to do something less well, but trying to be realistic about what my best looks like - not motivated by pride or fear.

- Less knowledge can be better: Sometimes fear of the unknown stems from knowing just enough to be afraid of it. Knowing the workout is what makes me afraid - because then I dwell on it. Having a practice conversation in a tense situation makes me afraid - because it's already gone badly in my mind.

God didn't tell Abraham everything he would experience to receive the promised son or tell Paul everything that a life of missions would bring. They obeyed based on the knowledge He gave in that moment. Just one step.

Francis Chan "Forgotten God" talks about walking in the Spirit as taking just one step at a time, without knowing the full big picture. The unknown brings fear because we wonder whether or not we are prepared. But prepared for what? We imagine the worst for ourselves and our lives, because that is what drives our fear. But freedom from fear means we don't allow our minds to create scenarios that are never meant to happen. That we have not been given a spirit of fear, but of power, love and self control. The opposite of fear or the key to boldness include power, love and self control. Part of self control is not just saying no to chocolate, but of refusing to let our emotions take us places we don't belong and not letting our minds contrive lies instead of focusing on God's truth. The sword of the Spirit is God's word (Eph 6:17). Our weapon against lies, those from without and those within, come in the truth of God's word.

My dad used to say to me almost every day before we went to school or at the end of an email "be strong and courageous". The passage in Joshua is such a beautiful declaration of God's faithfulness, but I rarely live in light of that promise or the charge God gives. God doesn't say "be strong and courageous and earn my love and acceptance." Joshua 1:9 reads : "This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” 

A life without fear is not one I am supposed to drum up within myself on my own. It is what I should experience by living in the Spirit. I can't do it on my own. The steps I list above are not a new to-do list to worry about failing. It's not a new measure which I feel inadequate next to. It's not a new comparison for me to evaluate myself against. The steps above are simply tangible ways to be more dependent on the Spirit's leading and less influenced by my mind and my emotions. To measure more of my life against the truth of God's word than the inputs of this world. 

The world gives us an overload of examples of what we should look like, what our marriages should be like, what we should own, how much money we should make and what our goals should be. The american christian establishment has it's own standards for looking good enough and christian enough and how to be the best friend or what your free time should be spent on. These feed the fear. These feed the lies. These make us restless. Tired. Discouraged. 

As I search for rest and peace, my first steps are measuring everything I do against the simple question - is God calling me to this now? If not, I need to pray for the mental and emotional freedom to let it go. Relentless committed to the good God has for me should be the most peaceful, Spirit-filled, satisfying, joyful life imaginable. And that's a measure worth pursuing.


Friday, February 26, 2016

Afraid of greatness, so I'll try to be good.

I wanted the last post to stand alone, so this post is really the heart of the previous poetry. This challenge has taught me a lot about discipline and self control. But I've learned something else that I didn't expect. I learned that our sense of equilibrium and being on autopilot is a hugely tempting issue that will recur again and again, no matter how much we improve.

In the course of the first six weeks, I've created a new routine and established new ruts and new walls to keep me safe from the world of the uncommon and the unknown. The "unknown and unknowable" is something CrossFit embraces and embodies so beautifully that it scares most people away. The unknown and unknowable sound scary and uncomfortable. And it is...

I started this journey looking at the process of becoming more disciplined and make better choices for myself. I have done that. But to call that success would lead to a new plateau of mediocrity. It's just a slightly higher level of mediocre than I was idling at before I began.

The true breakthrough, that abandons all fear and embraces the possible, holds a lot more risk than an 8 week improvement program. This fearlessness rubs against my mind in so many ways.When David and I plan our future hiking trips, I fight a dual nature inside of me. Part of me is looking for the known, because its safe and I know I can do it. I can almost guarantee success. And it will be good.

But then there is the other side. There is the unknown - what beauty haven't I experienced yet? What summit have I not climbed? What barrier have I not broken through? And if I were guaranteed success, would I be willing to go?

Truth hurts - because honestly right now, I can say that I probably wouldn't. Even if I could guarantee success, the idea of it being really really hard and pushing me beyond my limits holds me back. Risk means there is a chance of failure. Risk means it could be bad.

Or it could be great.

This is a foundational thought approaching CrossFit but it aligns with all of life so easily.

What if I truly loved unconditionally? The risk is that I won't be loved back. I'll face rejection. I'll be hurt. My love won't be enough to carry both sides of the relationship. So, lets play it safe, hold ourselves back, stay predictable and live in the ruts time and experience have established. Is it great? Not always, but it is pretty regularly good.

What if I poured the very best of me into something? The risk is that I won't be enough - that I still won't succeed. As long as I hold back, every failure has an automatic out in my mind. "Well, you may have failed, but you really didn't have enough time to do this to your full ability. There were too many other things on your plate to really do this well. You could have succeeded if ____________ had been different." But if you give 100% and fail - it's all at your feet.

Six weeks have pushed through some limits and settled into others. The question that remains isn't about the challenge. I can stay in this plateau for another 2 weeks - 2 months - 2 years. But do I want to?

Or do I want to know what is possible?

Afraid

Afraid I'll be tired
So I just stay in bed
Afraid I'll sound silly
So I hang my head
Afraid it will hurt
And I don't want to cry
Afraid I'll fail
So I don't even try
Afraid of pain
So I play it safe
Afraid of change
So I just stay in place
Afraid of my past
So I try to hide
Afraid they'll know
So instead I lie
Keep it superficial
In case I don't belong
Afraid they'll notice
When I'm not feeling strong
A life of fear
Is trapped inside my head
So instead of living
I'm living like I'm dead

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

If nothing changes....

I have to be honest here - this blog is not going to be pretty. But I am in need of some serious mental processing and this is my forum to do so.

I weighed myself because it's Tuesday and 18 days into the challenge I've lost 3 pounds total. No change since last week.

Actually, there are a lot of changes. I'm exercising every day. I'm only eating veggies and meat. I cut my coffee intake from half a pot to 2 cups. I have only had two glasses of wine in those 18 days. I deny myself every single piece of chocolate, fun lunch date food, small treat-um and other yummy indulgence I desire. I have not allowed myself a single morsel, not even eating the lone Kix piece of cereal sitting on the counter when I'm cleaning up breakfast (and YES, that has been a daily temptation).

So here is the honesty - is it worth it? Living with sore muscles and a tired body and a stomach that has to settle for carrot sticks rather than nachos and beer - is it worth it?

While the challenge is about healthy living and not necessarily weight loss, frankly I weigh too much to do the type of exercise I am doing. I can't do a push-up or pull-up without modification because my muscles aren't strong enough to move this much weight around. With each step I jog, all the weight of my body crashes down on my joints. Gravity is pushing me down towards the earth with every step I try to hike up a mountain (with an extra 30 pounds on my back).

The problem with trying is the danger of failing. If I do everything right and my body refuses to release any weight, why not live my days curled up on the sofa reading a book and munching on a snack. It seems like that is what I was made to do....

So now I ask - what would God have me do? Does He care about my weight? If my body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, then how am I supposed to treat it?

I've written before that the challenge is good in training in discipline, for discipline's sake, even if nothing else changes. And I believe that to be true. But marrying into a skinny family, with a lithe husband and birthing children that could pose in a "Feed the Starving Children" ad, I feel so out of place. I feel like if I only did more, ate less, exercised harder - then I could fit in too. The I wouldn't be the lone fat person in the Christmas picture of a skinny family.

Will 8 weeks of discipline bring the peaceful fruit of righteousness or will I just find a new depth of discouragement? Can I claim victory in mastering my will and be satisfied, even if nothing else changes?

Here's the deeper question - if God is my everything, does my weight even matter? If God is my satisfaction, then what is answering the call to obedience to Him look like in each day? I can intellectually assert that Jesus + nothing = Everything, but how does that relate to my modified push-up?

To be honest, I don't want to be loved and accepted just as I am - I want to change. Jesus told the prostitute "go and sin no more", not "good luck finding your next client". He told the rich young ruler to give away all he had and follow Him - the ruler was sad because he didn't want that type of change. The rich man wanted a type of obedience that fit his model of living. I'm willing to abandon my model of living, but I'd like to see a change from it too. Is that asking for a reward? Am I unwilling to let go of my version of what I think God's plan should include?

So here's the plea of a broken heart - Lord, don't let me remain unchanged. It may not be my weight than concerns You. It may be my very soul instead. Just don't leave me here questioning - give me Your vision instead.

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light