Imagine 10 years from now...our kids are all in college or already graduated. David and I have sold the house, quit our normal jobs and moved to a cabin in the back woods near the Smokies where I am able to work as an author/grant consultant doing the majority of my work from home and he is able to work as a part time nurse practitioner on a flexible schedule at the local ER or medical center. We work to save for our next big trek through the Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest trail or trip to Everest Base Camp. Our packs are covered with patches of trails we've hiked and our walls are covered with photos of mountain top vistas, amber waves of grain and costal horizons that seem to go to infinity. Sometimes we hike alone and sometimes with friends or family or our kids. We work hard when we work, we play hard when we play, and we enjoy the seclusion of our cabin when we rest. Breathe in - breathe out - feel that sense of peace and calm....so do I. And I love that image.
It sounds crazy. And maybe it is, a little. But more than that, it's uncommon. It's a life people dream about but never find a way to execute. It all sounds fun, but in the daily grind of normal living, the days start blending together and another decade passes and you are no closer to your dream than you were 10 years ago. Most people chalk up their dreams as unrealistic because it doesn't fit into the normal framework. Life is good - give up on it being great.
I don't believe it has to be this way. I believe the dream is achievable, but only when the goal is greater than the ordinary good. Like every other area of discipline, how we spend our time, our money, the career steps we take along the way, all blend together to paint the picture not only of our present but also form our future. We cannot wake up one day and live a reality so radically different from our yesterday. But if each step we are taking slowly moves us closer to our goal, the radical sounding future slowly becomes the next logical step.
This goal will take specific steps in education and career direction. It will take extraordinary discipline in financial matters. It will take choosing to say no to the ordinary good in front of us again and again, with our thoughts towards the future instead. But if the goal is for great, than good may not be enough. Good looks a lot less appealing than great.
When the Israelites were first traveling from Egypt, they had a destination. Oppression and slavery were behind them and the Promise Land was before them. They had seen God's mighty hand against the Egyptians and their feet had walked on the river bed that God Himself had parted for their miraculous escape. Great was before them. As they kept walking God provided all their needs. He had something great for them - a promise of a land of their own that was more than they could ask or imagine. Greatness was just a hike away.
As their feet kept moving, the slavery seemed less awful to the certainty they had experience in the day to day ordinary. The promised great started to fade and their motivation wained. God was no less faithful, but their patience with Him was wearing thin. And they began to rebel. They complain. They hardened their hearts. They made idols. They doubted the promise. Their memories betrayed them and they began to think of their life in Egypt as good. They couldn't picture the great anymore. Eventually, they all died in the wilderness, wandering day by day, never getting to receive the promise except for the two who had believed in God's great plan above the ordinariness everyone else began to long for. Great is hard - and most people will sacrifice great for the good or even the "just ok".
Now I don't know if God is calling us to this life. David and I have talked about it for so long, I can no longer pinpoint when the dream began. And yet, the steps we need to take for this dream might be His preparation to send us to the mission field overseas, or move us into ministry somewhere we haven't even imagined yet. I believe that if God calls us on a path, then He is preparing us for something great, even if we don't really understand the destination He has in mind.
But I believe in a great God who does great things - good just doesn't seem to cut it anymore.
The Uncommon Journey
Wondering as I Wander
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Sunday, January 17, 2016
More on discipline
Yesterday I began the Whole Life Challenge, using my daily food plan, reflection time, mobility training, journaling, water intake, and other recorded standards. I had a plan and I worked my plan. This sort of rigidity does not come naturally to me, but I have great examples in my life of people who can simply flip a switch and follow a set course of action.
Emulating what I have seen in them, I felt....powerful....
It was amazing to not care about how I felt or my personal preferences. I quickly learned that during this challenge, I was going to feel a lot of different things but that didn't change my plan. Again, this is new. Normally I am pretty directly influenced by my feelings and urges. They help me to be fun and spontaneous. I add flavor to other people's lives by having ideas of what could be fun or exciting in the moment. People who have eaten out with me often wait until the very moment we are leaving for a restaurant to decide what we are eating, knowing that I probably have some impulse that I will not be swayed from. (I have very gracious friends...)
Last time I spoke of discipline as something we should pursue meaningfully and purposefully combat the image in our heads that discipline is bad or wrong or representative of punishment. This time I want to go one step further. I propose that discipline be pursued for discipline's sake. It is not a matter of losing weight or beginning a habit. Discipline is self training that puts us in charge of our emotions and keeps us from being swayed by the half-truths of our lives and our surroundings.
Yesterday, I felt hungry. I wasn't getting to eat anything I really "felt" like eating, but instead ate each thing I was supposed to eat according to my plan, at the appropriate time and in the specific quantities. I wasn't satisfied with it. I wanted nachos. And beer. And brownies. My calculations of my Basal Metabolic Rate and estimated exertion gave me the correct number of calories and my protein rich diet specified how many calories come from the macronutrient categories of carbs, protein and fat. I knew I had eaten everything I needed to eat but emotionally I wasn't satisfied. Without such a structured plan, my emotion could have tricked me into thinking that I was physically hungry, rather than emotionally disappointed with lack of chocolate. I also didn't feel like exercising. I knew I needed to, but without a check box, I would have allowed myself to sit on the couch and read, rather than force myself to do the very exercise that I had allowed for in my plan.
If you don't know me - you can't begin to imagine how foreign this lifestyle is for me. It's like I woke up in opposite universe instead of my normal life. But at the end of the day, I felt powerful.
2 Tim 1:7 says that the Lord has given us a spirit of power, love and self-control. This idea of Spirit given self-control kept me going all day yesterday, but the implications of this are HUGE.
I can accomplish anything I set out to do. Period.
So what do I really want to do?
Fitness and diet are only one facet of me and certainly not the most important area for my immortal soul. Am I using this spiritual gifting to draw my closer to the Lord. Am I using this discipline to dive into the Word? Am I using this power to cast out fear and boldly follow wherever God leads?
We don't pursue discipline for a goal of our own making, but rather to live a life of obedience, whatever that call may be. Personally, I do feel God is calling me to address my health and fitness in this time. But it isn't the only call on my life. To shy away from His call into His service rejects the very gift He has given me to improve my health and well-being. That is why the verse begins with "For God has not given us a spirit of fear or timidity....."
He does not want us living timid lives, fearful of the path He may call us to. We might live a life similar to that of Paul. Or maybe of Job. Whatever the case may be, it will be for His glory and for our best. He will work His will through our lives into a vision of glory. But we must be disciplined to obey His call, whatever the case may be. We must be disciplined with the truth to know that He will provide the power to move the mountain before us.
1 Peter 1:5-8 says "Now for this very reason also, applying all diligence, in your faith supply moral excellence, and in your moral excellence, knowledge, and in your knowledge, self-control, and in your self-control, perseverance, and in your perseverance, godliness, and in your godliness, brotherly kindness, and in your brotherly kindness, love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they render you neither useless nor unfruitful in the true knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."
Emulating what I have seen in them, I felt....powerful....
It was amazing to not care about how I felt or my personal preferences. I quickly learned that during this challenge, I was going to feel a lot of different things but that didn't change my plan. Again, this is new. Normally I am pretty directly influenced by my feelings and urges. They help me to be fun and spontaneous. I add flavor to other people's lives by having ideas of what could be fun or exciting in the moment. People who have eaten out with me often wait until the very moment we are leaving for a restaurant to decide what we are eating, knowing that I probably have some impulse that I will not be swayed from. (I have very gracious friends...)
Last time I spoke of discipline as something we should pursue meaningfully and purposefully combat the image in our heads that discipline is bad or wrong or representative of punishment. This time I want to go one step further. I propose that discipline be pursued for discipline's sake. It is not a matter of losing weight or beginning a habit. Discipline is self training that puts us in charge of our emotions and keeps us from being swayed by the half-truths of our lives and our surroundings.
Yesterday, I felt hungry. I wasn't getting to eat anything I really "felt" like eating, but instead ate each thing I was supposed to eat according to my plan, at the appropriate time and in the specific quantities. I wasn't satisfied with it. I wanted nachos. And beer. And brownies. My calculations of my Basal Metabolic Rate and estimated exertion gave me the correct number of calories and my protein rich diet specified how many calories come from the macronutrient categories of carbs, protein and fat. I knew I had eaten everything I needed to eat but emotionally I wasn't satisfied. Without such a structured plan, my emotion could have tricked me into thinking that I was physically hungry, rather than emotionally disappointed with lack of chocolate. I also didn't feel like exercising. I knew I needed to, but without a check box, I would have allowed myself to sit on the couch and read, rather than force myself to do the very exercise that I had allowed for in my plan.
If you don't know me - you can't begin to imagine how foreign this lifestyle is for me. It's like I woke up in opposite universe instead of my normal life. But at the end of the day, I felt powerful.
2 Tim 1:7 says that the Lord has given us a spirit of power, love and self-control. This idea of Spirit given self-control kept me going all day yesterday, but the implications of this are HUGE.
I can accomplish anything I set out to do. Period.
So what do I really want to do?
Fitness and diet are only one facet of me and certainly not the most important area for my immortal soul. Am I using this spiritual gifting to draw my closer to the Lord. Am I using this discipline to dive into the Word? Am I using this power to cast out fear and boldly follow wherever God leads?
We don't pursue discipline for a goal of our own making, but rather to live a life of obedience, whatever that call may be. Personally, I do feel God is calling me to address my health and fitness in this time. But it isn't the only call on my life. To shy away from His call into His service rejects the very gift He has given me to improve my health and well-being. That is why the verse begins with "For God has not given us a spirit of fear or timidity....."
He does not want us living timid lives, fearful of the path He may call us to. We might live a life similar to that of Paul. Or maybe of Job. Whatever the case may be, it will be for His glory and for our best. He will work His will through our lives into a vision of glory. But we must be disciplined to obey His call, whatever the case may be. We must be disciplined with the truth to know that He will provide the power to move the mountain before us.
1 Peter 1:5-8 says "Now for this very reason also, applying all diligence, in your faith supply moral excellence, and in your moral excellence, knowledge, and in your knowledge, self-control, and in your self-control, perseverance, and in your perseverance, godliness, and in your godliness, brotherly kindness, and in your brotherly kindness, love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they render you neither useless nor unfruitful in the true knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."
Wedged between faith and love is a list of qualities that are ours and are increasing by the Spirit, for the purpose of being useful and fruitful. Self control comes from knowledge of what is true and leads to perseverance. Because I know the truth, I can combat my emotional response to the situation and persevere in the correct path. This is the power of the Holy Spirit alive in me and anyone who calls on Him.
Hallelujah and amen.
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Uncommon Discipline
Several times a year, at Crossfit Uncommon, the owners have members voluntarily join a challenge, designed to help us refocus and add motivation to our progress in exercise and nutrition. Lately, they have been following an 8 week challenge called the Whole Life Challenge, which equips people in eating, exercise, stretching, water intake, sleep and other positive health items. It's difficult to maintain discipline for 8 weeks with such high restrictions from normal day-to-day life. I'll be honest and admit that I have yet to successfully complete a challenge. There is always a point where I just get tired of it and give up.
This frustration with discipline is something that has been nagging me for over a year and I have yet to identify the root of the problem, except to say I am a sinful, fallen being. Discipline is something that our society views as difficult, bad or even limiting. Discipline keeps us from fulfilling our momentary desires and instead calls us to a path of restrictions and limitations. It is the antithesis of western ideals.
My other problem with discipline is that I am a parent of middle school children, who have long since moved on from sins of "don't touch that" and are showing behaviors that manifest character traits. There is no easy answer for the son who is just being sullen and rude and mean. There is no easy answer for the daughter who is extraordinarily self-absorbed. Call me if you know what to do with the bright child who refuses to do homework and turn it in on time! These aren't single occurrence issues and rarely are the offenses earth shattering. They are small comments, slights, and acts of defiance. Some of this is simply the natural process of growing up and testing new boundaries of independence. And some of it requires parental input and consequences. Like me, my children view discipline as a negative, a restriction (like of TV or video games or hanging out with friends).
But this is not the view of discipline of elite athletes, of philosophers or of scripture. In arenas where excellence is expected and pursued, discipline is seen as one of the single most impactful equipping characteristics of an individual.
David Brooks writes in "The Road to Character", "You have to surrender to something outside of yourself to gain strength within yourself. You have to conquer your desire to get what you crave." Later he continues, "The essential drama of life is the drama to construct character, which is an engraved set of disciplined habits, a settles disposition to do good."
This frustration with discipline is something that has been nagging me for over a year and I have yet to identify the root of the problem, except to say I am a sinful, fallen being. Discipline is something that our society views as difficult, bad or even limiting. Discipline keeps us from fulfilling our momentary desires and instead calls us to a path of restrictions and limitations. It is the antithesis of western ideals.
My other problem with discipline is that I am a parent of middle school children, who have long since moved on from sins of "don't touch that" and are showing behaviors that manifest character traits. There is no easy answer for the son who is just being sullen and rude and mean. There is no easy answer for the daughter who is extraordinarily self-absorbed. Call me if you know what to do with the bright child who refuses to do homework and turn it in on time! These aren't single occurrence issues and rarely are the offenses earth shattering. They are small comments, slights, and acts of defiance. Some of this is simply the natural process of growing up and testing new boundaries of independence. And some of it requires parental input and consequences. Like me, my children view discipline as a negative, a restriction (like of TV or video games or hanging out with friends).
But this is not the view of discipline of elite athletes, of philosophers or of scripture. In arenas where excellence is expected and pursued, discipline is seen as one of the single most impactful equipping characteristics of an individual.
David Brooks writes in "The Road to Character", "You have to surrender to something outside of yourself to gain strength within yourself. You have to conquer your desire to get what you crave." Later he continues, "The essential drama of life is the drama to construct character, which is an engraved set of disciplined habits, a settles disposition to do good."
The author of Hebrews writes "All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness." (Heb 12:11) and in Proverbs 3:12, Hebrews 12:6 and Revelation 3:19, it says that the Father disciplines whom He loves. The idea here is that discipline is in itself a good thing, bringing about peaceful fruit and this desirable result is for those whom God loves. But most of the time we view discipline as hard and bad - not peaceful.
In Galatians 5:1, Paul writes "It is for freedom Christ set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by the yoke of slavery." Here we clearly see the biblical perspective (which is not surprisingly the opposite of the world) where sin is slavery. Abandonment to our urges and desires, doing whatever we want to do is actually a form of slavery - a yoke - something that has us bound and unable to make the adjustments we want to make. Freedom, is living under God's order for our lives.; submitting ourselves to His discipline and His standards and His will. Tim Keller gives the image of a fish - a fish freed from water is not free, he is dead. True freedom is to live as we were made to live, embracing the natural order established for. Discipline, is submitting ourselves to the better order for our lives. Restricting those things that lead to our ill and pursuing those things that lead to our benefit.
This may not sound that earth shattering to you, but the implications in day to day life are actually pretty uncommon. What if I pursued the carrot instead of the cheeseburger? What if I viewed the carrot as a reward, a blessing, the peaceful fruit (or vegetable) of a life well lived? What if I was excited each morning I woke up as another day to exercise? What if I saw joy in my training, because the training was making me more of who I was meant to be, rather than the potato shaped lump under a blanket on the couch reading a book?
What if I chased after God's word and opened it with the same frequency I opened Facebook or read the news on my phone? What if I spent as much time memorizing scripture as I did watching Netflix?
Peter Deiwert, writes on the back of the Crossfit workout journal, "Common is expecting things to be given to you rather than embracing the joy of hard work." In his latest blog about succeed in the Whole Life Challenge, he writes, "Mental toughness is the discipline to take small steps consistently, towards a larger goal." We are to embrace the hard work with joy, moving consistently towards the bigger goal. In this there is fruit we can see and experience and enjoy.
Discipline is the small daily acts that together form a picture of our character - our true self. It is the little lies in our heads that move us further and further from who we were made to be, to the common ground of mediocrity, apathy, and resignation to a lesser life. Lies might include: "That's too hard" or "It's only one piece of chocolate" or "Everyone else...." or "I've been so good today" or "But I deserve this". These lies give us permission to depart from the road we truly want to walk and drift towards the middle ground of nothingness. We become a fish out of water, flopping around on the land, knowing that we aren't where we belong and that we were made for more. We begin to look at all the moments we gave into our desires or moments we gave up trying as failures and regrets. In hindsight, those choices to give into the lesser desire of the moment looks dull and grey, instead of shiny and exciting as it did at the time.
Discipline is not some grand statement about summiting our personal Everest. It isn't a huge fork in the road or monumental decision. Discipline is exercised in a thousand little decisions every day, pursuing our best (or His best for us) rather than being swayed by our environment, emotions and circumstances. Discipline is a single step. Just one. One step on the narrow path, followed by another, and another, until one day you look and you are standing at the top of your mountain. Discipline has the mental fortitude to engage in this moment as both a singular moment in time and as a part of the grand design of life all at the same time. You can say to yourself, I choose to desire the greater thing in this moment, not because it is what necessarily feels the best or is even what I want, but because the greater thing is worth more than whatever reward, treat, rest, that I am being pulled towards now.
On March 11th, I give you all permission to ask me how the challenge went. But even more than that, I invite you to ask me how yesterday went - because the challenge is not accomplished in a grand moments, but the 33,868,800 moments along the way.
Thankfully we are not alone in this. Paul writes to Timothy, "For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and self-discipline." (2 Tim 1:7) We were made to live a life of self-discipline. This is God's desire for our best and for His glory. May it be true of me.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Uncommon Radiance
I was meditating in Hebrews this morning and read the familiar phrase from chapter 1 verse 3: "He is the radiance of His glory". Christ, the Son, is the radiance of God the Father's glory and "the exact representation of His nature", now seated at the right hand.
I've pictured this before, but imagine with me for a moment, Christ, the Son, seated on the throne, next to the Father, radiant in white, crowned in majesty, with all off heaven and earth bowed before Him and singing His praise. The angels are saying "Worthy is the Lamb" and heavenly creatures chant "Holy, holy holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come" without ceasing. We've read these pictures of heaven throughout scripture that paint a scene of awe and mystery. John adds in his epistle "We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is." (1 John 3:2)
We will be like Him. Imagine yourself back in that throne room, but look down at yourself. You stand, unable to move in the glory of His presence, clothed in His righteousness, emboldened by His mercy and grace. The sight that no human eyes can see without dying is before you, but you are not as you are now. You are like Him. Radiant. While Christ represents the very nature of God, we represent Christ the Son. We are sons and daughters, heirs to the eternal kingdom and we stand in His presence glorified with the Son. Paul tells us in Romans 8 (29-30) that we are being conformed into the image of His Son - that Son who is the radiance of His glory. Look down and see your radiance! Not the brilliant white robe of His righteousness, but inside your heart and mind. The doubts and fears and anxieties are finally gone for good. The question of whether or not you are truly accepted, now eternally answered. The perpetual wrestling with sin and our fallen nature has ceased. The darkest sorrows of your heart and the deepest wounds now forever healed. The radiance is not from without, but from within. Holy. Sanctified. Glorified. Radiant.
I've always viewed sanctification as a painful process in which my sins are exposed and my idols are crushed. True, I know this is the necessary discipline of a loving Father bringing me closer and closer to His best for me. And yet - it hurts. Thankfully, we usually only address one area at a time and just as I see one stubborn area of my heart soften, another hardened portion is revealed. And so it goes, on and on, until that throne room. Right? Sort of.
What I have failed to grasp so many times is that God does not leave His work void. The empty places where sin and doubt and fear once reigned are not simply empty. They are filled with His Spirit. That work that Paul tells us will be completed is an ongoing process, but not a simple excavation of our greed and lust and anger. Those areas that once brought pain are being filled to bring peace, and patience and joy and love. That "peaceful fruit of righteousness" is replacing those previous settings of darkness and fear. That means, in a "no longer - but not yet" way, we are being filled with that same radiance. Here. Now.
We can only imagine what it will actually be like to see Him face to face. But we need not imagine what God is doing in us now. If we take a moment and contemplate all He has done in our lives, that radiance will begin to reveal itself. We won't just move from sin to sin, but we will experience that healing work in the here and now.
I always experience a little of the "post-holiday blues" after Christmas is over and the New Year has begun. My jeans are usually a little tighter and I have a hard time knowing what day it is after a week of vacation. The list of reality lays before me and seems longer than I remembered. If I'm honest, I really want to just hibernate the next few months in sweatpants and a couple good books.
But I am not relying on my own strength and I am not just looking at another list of dark places God will need to address in the coming year.
I am radiant. And so are you.
I've pictured this before, but imagine with me for a moment, Christ, the Son, seated on the throne, next to the Father, radiant in white, crowned in majesty, with all off heaven and earth bowed before Him and singing His praise. The angels are saying "Worthy is the Lamb" and heavenly creatures chant "Holy, holy holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come" without ceasing. We've read these pictures of heaven throughout scripture that paint a scene of awe and mystery. John adds in his epistle "We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is." (1 John 3:2)
We will be like Him. Imagine yourself back in that throne room, but look down at yourself. You stand, unable to move in the glory of His presence, clothed in His righteousness, emboldened by His mercy and grace. The sight that no human eyes can see without dying is before you, but you are not as you are now. You are like Him. Radiant. While Christ represents the very nature of God, we represent Christ the Son. We are sons and daughters, heirs to the eternal kingdom and we stand in His presence glorified with the Son. Paul tells us in Romans 8 (29-30) that we are being conformed into the image of His Son - that Son who is the radiance of His glory. Look down and see your radiance! Not the brilliant white robe of His righteousness, but inside your heart and mind. The doubts and fears and anxieties are finally gone for good. The question of whether or not you are truly accepted, now eternally answered. The perpetual wrestling with sin and our fallen nature has ceased. The darkest sorrows of your heart and the deepest wounds now forever healed. The radiance is not from without, but from within. Holy. Sanctified. Glorified. Radiant.
I've always viewed sanctification as a painful process in which my sins are exposed and my idols are crushed. True, I know this is the necessary discipline of a loving Father bringing me closer and closer to His best for me. And yet - it hurts. Thankfully, we usually only address one area at a time and just as I see one stubborn area of my heart soften, another hardened portion is revealed. And so it goes, on and on, until that throne room. Right? Sort of.
What I have failed to grasp so many times is that God does not leave His work void. The empty places where sin and doubt and fear once reigned are not simply empty. They are filled with His Spirit. That work that Paul tells us will be completed is an ongoing process, but not a simple excavation of our greed and lust and anger. Those areas that once brought pain are being filled to bring peace, and patience and joy and love. That "peaceful fruit of righteousness" is replacing those previous settings of darkness and fear. That means, in a "no longer - but not yet" way, we are being filled with that same radiance. Here. Now.
We can only imagine what it will actually be like to see Him face to face. But we need not imagine what God is doing in us now. If we take a moment and contemplate all He has done in our lives, that radiance will begin to reveal itself. We won't just move from sin to sin, but we will experience that healing work in the here and now.
I always experience a little of the "post-holiday blues" after Christmas is over and the New Year has begun. My jeans are usually a little tighter and I have a hard time knowing what day it is after a week of vacation. The list of reality lays before me and seems longer than I remembered. If I'm honest, I really want to just hibernate the next few months in sweatpants and a couple good books.
But I am not relying on my own strength and I am not just looking at another list of dark places God will need to address in the coming year.
I am radiant. And so are you.
Friday, January 1, 2016
Uncommon Inspiration
It's New Years Day. A fresh start and a blank page. Last year at this time, I was unemployed (intentionally) for about a week before launching into a new journey that has blessed me beyond what I could ever ask or imagine. I had chosen to step off the career ladder to pursue a combination of opportunities that provided me with more free time, more family time, more sanity and more options for my future. It would also mean less income, less prestige, less opportunity for professional accomplishment. I knew the "more" outweighed the "less" and the past year has proven me right. But not everyone has the same experience. There is risk in choosing less and yet I have spent the year watching amazing women around me make intentional choices of less in a world that craves more.
I think of one friend, who took specific steps this year to open up her life even more deeply to a ministry that is using her gifts in new ways and stretching her in very uncomfortable ways as well. This meant less free time of her own. Less disposable income. Less time with friends and family. It meant saying no to other ministries and opportunities she is also well suited for.
I think of another took a leap of faith into less income and less job security and less access to family and friends, because they heard God's call in their lives for a new adventure. It has cost them income, security, comfort, and control. It's cost them in tears and loneliness and uncertainty.
I think of a sweet girl, who has been called into a new adventure in grad school, but very intentionally set limits on her time. In a world of competitive performance and pressure to be what everyone expects you to be, she knew that the Lord was calling her to a different life balance. One that meant she would be saying no to people and activities. No to obsessing over courses and curriculum. No to opportunities that seemed profitable but would stretch her too thin. No to potential income using her gifts in freelance work that was competing for time with everything else in her life.
I think of a dear heart sister, who left a position of respect and prestige and a much higher income, to move to the background and uproot her entire professional trajectory for the sake of better work life balance and more time with her kids. Job opportunity after job opportunity that would mean a better title and more money came her way before she stepped down, and voluntarily took on less, to be there more for her kids and husband.
I think of one of my closest friends who after years of being rooted in a small christian school, where she was also connected to many of her personal friends and family, chose to be less involved and move into a new opportunity to connect with her son's new school. She had to say no to committees and service opportunities and activities that she had said yes to for almost a decade to open the door to the unknown in a huge, impersonal community of strangers.
I think of a truly joy-filled woman who put limits on her work, her hobbies and her time with friends to invest in her marriage and family. While others wanted her to enter into what could have been virtually every weekend filled with fun activities, she chose to do less and limit her schedule to support her husband as he finished grad school.
I think of an amazing woman who spent much of the spring sacrificially serving her mother-in-law who was stricken with cancer. She fully entered into serving one person, stepping away from the multitude of places she had served and connected with in her community. She said no to countless invitations with friends and community events to sit at the bedside of a woman walking through her last days.
Each of these women experienced the cost of less. They disappointed friends. They missed out of fun times. They said no to people they loved and to things they would have loved to do. They limited their earning power and reduced their prestige.
The world tries to sell us on the concept of more. Bigger. Extra. Commercials tell you to buy the luxury "you deserve" and to get more because "you're worth it". Indulgence is elevated as the mark of a truly fulfilled life and the media tries to convince us that we can indeed have it all. But these women intentionally walked against the flow and followed a different calling. These women counted the cost and poured themselves out, instead of looking to receive. These women limited their own happiness and opportunities out of love for others and in obedience to their Lord. They chose less.
Today, as I evaluate the past year and wonder about the year to come, I count myself exceedingly blessed to have the example of these amazing women in my life. I am inspired by their courage to follow their path, so narrowly drawn out before them, often clouded with fog and contoured with windy bends that keep them from seeing where it will lead. They boldly chose to enter into the mystery of being blessed with less. May we all show such strength in the New Year.
I think of one friend, who took specific steps this year to open up her life even more deeply to a ministry that is using her gifts in new ways and stretching her in very uncomfortable ways as well. This meant less free time of her own. Less disposable income. Less time with friends and family. It meant saying no to other ministries and opportunities she is also well suited for.
I think of another took a leap of faith into less income and less job security and less access to family and friends, because they heard God's call in their lives for a new adventure. It has cost them income, security, comfort, and control. It's cost them in tears and loneliness and uncertainty.
I think of a sweet girl, who has been called into a new adventure in grad school, but very intentionally set limits on her time. In a world of competitive performance and pressure to be what everyone expects you to be, she knew that the Lord was calling her to a different life balance. One that meant she would be saying no to people and activities. No to obsessing over courses and curriculum. No to opportunities that seemed profitable but would stretch her too thin. No to potential income using her gifts in freelance work that was competing for time with everything else in her life.
I think of a dear heart sister, who left a position of respect and prestige and a much higher income, to move to the background and uproot her entire professional trajectory for the sake of better work life balance and more time with her kids. Job opportunity after job opportunity that would mean a better title and more money came her way before she stepped down, and voluntarily took on less, to be there more for her kids and husband.
I think of one of my closest friends who after years of being rooted in a small christian school, where she was also connected to many of her personal friends and family, chose to be less involved and move into a new opportunity to connect with her son's new school. She had to say no to committees and service opportunities and activities that she had said yes to for almost a decade to open the door to the unknown in a huge, impersonal community of strangers.
I think of a truly joy-filled woman who put limits on her work, her hobbies and her time with friends to invest in her marriage and family. While others wanted her to enter into what could have been virtually every weekend filled with fun activities, she chose to do less and limit her schedule to support her husband as he finished grad school.
I think of an amazing woman who spent much of the spring sacrificially serving her mother-in-law who was stricken with cancer. She fully entered into serving one person, stepping away from the multitude of places she had served and connected with in her community. She said no to countless invitations with friends and community events to sit at the bedside of a woman walking through her last days.
Each of these women experienced the cost of less. They disappointed friends. They missed out of fun times. They said no to people they loved and to things they would have loved to do. They limited their earning power and reduced their prestige.
The world tries to sell us on the concept of more. Bigger. Extra. Commercials tell you to buy the luxury "you deserve" and to get more because "you're worth it". Indulgence is elevated as the mark of a truly fulfilled life and the media tries to convince us that we can indeed have it all. But these women intentionally walked against the flow and followed a different calling. These women counted the cost and poured themselves out, instead of looking to receive. These women limited their own happiness and opportunities out of love for others and in obedience to their Lord. They chose less.
Today, as I evaluate the past year and wonder about the year to come, I count myself exceedingly blessed to have the example of these amazing women in my life. I am inspired by their courage to follow their path, so narrowly drawn out before them, often clouded with fog and contoured with windy bends that keep them from seeing where it will lead. They boldly chose to enter into the mystery of being blessed with less. May we all show such strength in the New Year.
Friday, December 25, 2015
Uncommonly Silent Night
"Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged, and sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the magi. Then what had been spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled: 'A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning. Rachel weeping for her children; and she refused to be comforted, because they were no more'."
(Matthew 2:16-18)
Jesus enters the world in this little town of Bethlehem, born in a stable, the ultimate humble and lowly station for the Lord Incarnate. Angels herald his birth and shepherds leave their fields to come see what the angels have spoke of - this peace on earth and goodwill for men. Mary, surrounded by gold and frankincense and myrrh has treasured in her heart the voice of the angel and the gifts of the magi and the worship of those brought into the celebration of his birth. Mary saw the reaction of those in the temple at his circumcision who rejoiced knowing the promised Savior had come.
And then it all changes.
Joseph is warned to go to Egypt with his family to save Jesus from Herod's wrath. There is no time to enjoy this bundle of joy as a new family. They are on the run and live in exile in the earliest years of Jesus' life. In the midst of the joy and celebration of his birth, the very real danger of his life has immediately begun. Jesus, who will be hung on a cross like a common criminal, not only enters the world as a helpless baby, but as one who is immediately in mortal danger. Not only was he born in a stable, he couldn't grow up at his hometown for fear of his life.
I've often wondered what it was like to be Mary. I imagine a woman with great loneliness in her life. The whispers as the child grows within her, even though she has no husband. The glances when they return from Egypt, knowing that all the families in the area of Bethlehem have no sons to grow in wisdom and stature. The conversations in the caravan of people having heard that young Jesus was staying in "His father's house" (the temple) after the Passover feast instead of coming home with his parents. And then later, a young widow, watching her son leave his home and roam the countryside preaching and teaching and healing, ridiculed by his own town while the Pharisees plot his death.
How many silent nights did Mary lay awake praying for peace and strength to raise this son God had given her?
While we normally focus on the angels and presents, joining the joy and merriment, Jesus was born into a broken world, into controversy and danger, into poverty and homelessness. The King of kings and Lord of lords has no throne, no kingdom, no palace, no people, no guards to protect him, no land to call his own.
When God says, "Immanuel" - "I am with you" - He is saying: I am with you when you can't sleep because the weight of the world is on your shoulders. I am with you when the enemy is closing in. I am with you when you have no home, no stability, no peace. I am with you in your silent nights and I am with you in your loneliness. I left the glory of heaven and entered into the struggle and pain to be with you here and now.
It's not always easy to experience the joy of Christmas. Life sometimes gets in the way. But the angels didn't bring tidings of comfort and joy to a people already basking in glory. They brought tidings of comfort and joy to the lost and the broken; to the poor, nomadic shepherds who were also going to sleep with the animals that night. We don't put on a fake smile and call it joy because it's that season. We come weary, broken, lonely, poor and needy. There is nothing more real on Christmas than the pain of the world. It is this pain that Christ came to heal.
The prophet Jeremiah, immediately after the verses quoted by Matthew above, gives more than just a picture of pain and sorrow. Jeremiah writes:
"Thus says the Lord, 'Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears, for your work will be rewarded, and they will return from the land of the enemy. There is hope for your future and your children will return to their own territory." (Jer 31:16-17)
When Jesus states "I did not come to call the righteous, but the sinners" (Matt 9:13b) it makes me think that Christmas isn't really for the joyful. Christmas is for the restless. For the doubting. For the troubled. Christmas is to see with fresh eyes our neediness and find all the joy and hope and peace right there in the midst of the toil and hurt. Christmas says that God is with us in the here and now, just as we are.
This is truly good news - and makes the darkest night seem merry and bright.
(Matthew 2:16-18)
Jesus enters the world in this little town of Bethlehem, born in a stable, the ultimate humble and lowly station for the Lord Incarnate. Angels herald his birth and shepherds leave their fields to come see what the angels have spoke of - this peace on earth and goodwill for men. Mary, surrounded by gold and frankincense and myrrh has treasured in her heart the voice of the angel and the gifts of the magi and the worship of those brought into the celebration of his birth. Mary saw the reaction of those in the temple at his circumcision who rejoiced knowing the promised Savior had come.
And then it all changes.
Joseph is warned to go to Egypt with his family to save Jesus from Herod's wrath. There is no time to enjoy this bundle of joy as a new family. They are on the run and live in exile in the earliest years of Jesus' life. In the midst of the joy and celebration of his birth, the very real danger of his life has immediately begun. Jesus, who will be hung on a cross like a common criminal, not only enters the world as a helpless baby, but as one who is immediately in mortal danger. Not only was he born in a stable, he couldn't grow up at his hometown for fear of his life.
I've often wondered what it was like to be Mary. I imagine a woman with great loneliness in her life. The whispers as the child grows within her, even though she has no husband. The glances when they return from Egypt, knowing that all the families in the area of Bethlehem have no sons to grow in wisdom and stature. The conversations in the caravan of people having heard that young Jesus was staying in "His father's house" (the temple) after the Passover feast instead of coming home with his parents. And then later, a young widow, watching her son leave his home and roam the countryside preaching and teaching and healing, ridiculed by his own town while the Pharisees plot his death.
How many silent nights did Mary lay awake praying for peace and strength to raise this son God had given her?
While we normally focus on the angels and presents, joining the joy and merriment, Jesus was born into a broken world, into controversy and danger, into poverty and homelessness. The King of kings and Lord of lords has no throne, no kingdom, no palace, no people, no guards to protect him, no land to call his own.
When God says, "Immanuel" - "I am with you" - He is saying: I am with you when you can't sleep because the weight of the world is on your shoulders. I am with you when the enemy is closing in. I am with you when you have no home, no stability, no peace. I am with you in your silent nights and I am with you in your loneliness. I left the glory of heaven and entered into the struggle and pain to be with you here and now.
It's not always easy to experience the joy of Christmas. Life sometimes gets in the way. But the angels didn't bring tidings of comfort and joy to a people already basking in glory. They brought tidings of comfort and joy to the lost and the broken; to the poor, nomadic shepherds who were also going to sleep with the animals that night. We don't put on a fake smile and call it joy because it's that season. We come weary, broken, lonely, poor and needy. There is nothing more real on Christmas than the pain of the world. It is this pain that Christ came to heal.
The prophet Jeremiah, immediately after the verses quoted by Matthew above, gives more than just a picture of pain and sorrow. Jeremiah writes:
"Thus says the Lord, 'Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears, for your work will be rewarded, and they will return from the land of the enemy. There is hope for your future and your children will return to their own territory." (Jer 31:16-17)
When Jesus states "I did not come to call the righteous, but the sinners" (Matt 9:13b) it makes me think that Christmas isn't really for the joyful. Christmas is for the restless. For the doubting. For the troubled. Christmas is to see with fresh eyes our neediness and find all the joy and hope and peace right there in the midst of the toil and hurt. Christmas says that God is with us in the here and now, just as we are.
This is truly good news - and makes the darkest night seem merry and bright.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Uncommon Brokeness
My worst nightmare came true today.
After being gone from Crossfit Uncommon for 6 weeks straight, I felt I had conquered my fear when I returned on Tuesday. It was a great workout, the people were amazing and I left with an endorphin rush unparalleled to anything I had experienced lately. I felt confident and the great type of soreness when I walked up and down stairs. I earned this ache! I was excited to go back this morning and thought "Yes, the fear is gone and I can focus on making progress again."
This morning, while we drove across town, I mentally noted the lack of butterflies in my stomach and thought I was really making progress mentally and emotionally - not just rebuilding strength physically. I hopped on a rower and felt strong with each pull. It was everything I wanted Crossfit to be. Even the group warm-up had me in a good mood because my aches from Tuesday slowly melted as my muscles were stretched and warm.
The first part of the workout was challenging. Lunges are hard and sometimes cause some aches in my knees, but I concentrated on each movement, really trying to set aside my preconceived notions of what was "hard" or "uncomfortable". There were only a few other people there and I had plenty of space to mentally zero in on what I needed to do. I felt good.
And then came the second part of the workout...
Partnered with my husband, we were alternating rounds of kettlebell swings and wallballs for 5 rounds each. It didn't sound that bad. I already felt tired, but I knew I had just five rounds of activity before I could put my time on the board and record today's workout as another small victory in my journey towards a better version of myself. Round 1 - the tiredness is catching up with me and I'm feeling tired. Round 2 - each movement is hard and I'm counting down reps in my head, silently urging myself to keep going a little longer.
Round 3 - I break.
All I needed was 15 wallballs, but by the 6th or 7th there are tears streaming down my face. I keep throwing the ball in the air, crying harder and harder until eventually I sit down sobbing. My body doesn't want to move, but it really wasn't a physical problem. The tiredness of my body revealed the true fear of my mind - that I can't cut it. That I'm not uncommon after all. That everyone is going to see the phony I am know that I simply don't have the strength to keep up with these titans surrounding me.
I collapse in tears and the nightmare is true - I've broken, surrounded by the people I respect most. I'm laid bare before the people I want to impress. I might as well be naked. Actually, I might have preferred being physically naked to being so emotionally exposed.
While my life is diverse and there are many things that shape me, I write about my cross fit experience because the whole re-evaluation of my life is based on the simple question - what does it mean to be uncommon? It isn't about physical fitness or Olympic weightlifting or being extreme for the sake of being extreme. Greg Glassman once described the cross fit athlete as a "better beautiful". Being the best version of yourself that you can be. It's a different way of thinking. A different approach to life. Pretty much any area in life can be examined by asking how you can optimize each area to be the ultimate version of yourself - without comparison to anyone else. Our pop culture provides measuring sticks for success, popularity, appearance, family/life balance, monetary gain and every other area of life. Want to feel unfulfilled and under-accomplished? Hop on Facebook and compare yourself to the air-brushed lives of your friends and acquaintances.
Social media is all about controlling the version other people see of you through pictures of happy kids, "pinning" fun crafts, posting funny cartoons and "liking" other people's success. We build cyberwalls of perfected images that meet what society has deemed acceptable. Brokenness is the enemy of image building and our society has a cornucopia of applications to build the best image of ourselves.
Being uncommon is different. Being uncommon says "forget image, actually become the best version of yourself." To do this, you have to be willing to break. Only once you have the honesty of reaching your limits can you truly extend beyond them.
Richard Rohr writes "self made people will try to manufacture an even stronger self by willpower and determination to put them back in charge and seeming control.....Eventually this game is unstable." Uncommon brokenness is being exposed in a community that accepts your brokenness as a current state without any bearing on your character or your future. You don't manufacturer a stronger self by individual willpower. To truly become the best version of yourself, you must be in community. A community of people willing to enter into your brokenness and encourage you into a place beyond the limits you have previously known. On our own, we hit our limit and stop. That's why we call them limits. We can use goal theory to push ourselves towards higher levels of achievement but we all have the place where we will just sit down and cry. Metaphorically or (even worse) physically.
It's only when someone is willing to walk up to you and tell you to keep going that you can truly go beyond what you thought was possible. Today, that some one was Crystal. And Tim. And Paul. And Jeremiah. And David. Those who cheered me on through the last rounds of wallballs even when the tears were still streaming down my cheeks.
Today was a PR for me. Not in any one activity - but in finding a place within myself that can keep going when I never would on my own. And I'm not afraid to be broken anymore.
After being gone from Crossfit Uncommon for 6 weeks straight, I felt I had conquered my fear when I returned on Tuesday. It was a great workout, the people were amazing and I left with an endorphin rush unparalleled to anything I had experienced lately. I felt confident and the great type of soreness when I walked up and down stairs. I earned this ache! I was excited to go back this morning and thought "Yes, the fear is gone and I can focus on making progress again."
This morning, while we drove across town, I mentally noted the lack of butterflies in my stomach and thought I was really making progress mentally and emotionally - not just rebuilding strength physically. I hopped on a rower and felt strong with each pull. It was everything I wanted Crossfit to be. Even the group warm-up had me in a good mood because my aches from Tuesday slowly melted as my muscles were stretched and warm.
The first part of the workout was challenging. Lunges are hard and sometimes cause some aches in my knees, but I concentrated on each movement, really trying to set aside my preconceived notions of what was "hard" or "uncomfortable". There were only a few other people there and I had plenty of space to mentally zero in on what I needed to do. I felt good.
And then came the second part of the workout...
Partnered with my husband, we were alternating rounds of kettlebell swings and wallballs for 5 rounds each. It didn't sound that bad. I already felt tired, but I knew I had just five rounds of activity before I could put my time on the board and record today's workout as another small victory in my journey towards a better version of myself. Round 1 - the tiredness is catching up with me and I'm feeling tired. Round 2 - each movement is hard and I'm counting down reps in my head, silently urging myself to keep going a little longer.
Round 3 - I break.
All I needed was 15 wallballs, but by the 6th or 7th there are tears streaming down my face. I keep throwing the ball in the air, crying harder and harder until eventually I sit down sobbing. My body doesn't want to move, but it really wasn't a physical problem. The tiredness of my body revealed the true fear of my mind - that I can't cut it. That I'm not uncommon after all. That everyone is going to see the phony I am know that I simply don't have the strength to keep up with these titans surrounding me.
I collapse in tears and the nightmare is true - I've broken, surrounded by the people I respect most. I'm laid bare before the people I want to impress. I might as well be naked. Actually, I might have preferred being physically naked to being so emotionally exposed.
While my life is diverse and there are many things that shape me, I write about my cross fit experience because the whole re-evaluation of my life is based on the simple question - what does it mean to be uncommon? It isn't about physical fitness or Olympic weightlifting or being extreme for the sake of being extreme. Greg Glassman once described the cross fit athlete as a "better beautiful". Being the best version of yourself that you can be. It's a different way of thinking. A different approach to life. Pretty much any area in life can be examined by asking how you can optimize each area to be the ultimate version of yourself - without comparison to anyone else. Our pop culture provides measuring sticks for success, popularity, appearance, family/life balance, monetary gain and every other area of life. Want to feel unfulfilled and under-accomplished? Hop on Facebook and compare yourself to the air-brushed lives of your friends and acquaintances.
Social media is all about controlling the version other people see of you through pictures of happy kids, "pinning" fun crafts, posting funny cartoons and "liking" other people's success. We build cyberwalls of perfected images that meet what society has deemed acceptable. Brokenness is the enemy of image building and our society has a cornucopia of applications to build the best image of ourselves.
Being uncommon is different. Being uncommon says "forget image, actually become the best version of yourself." To do this, you have to be willing to break. Only once you have the honesty of reaching your limits can you truly extend beyond them.
Richard Rohr writes "self made people will try to manufacture an even stronger self by willpower and determination to put them back in charge and seeming control.....Eventually this game is unstable." Uncommon brokenness is being exposed in a community that accepts your brokenness as a current state without any bearing on your character or your future. You don't manufacturer a stronger self by individual willpower. To truly become the best version of yourself, you must be in community. A community of people willing to enter into your brokenness and encourage you into a place beyond the limits you have previously known. On our own, we hit our limit and stop. That's why we call them limits. We can use goal theory to push ourselves towards higher levels of achievement but we all have the place where we will just sit down and cry. Metaphorically or (even worse) physically.
It's only when someone is willing to walk up to you and tell you to keep going that you can truly go beyond what you thought was possible. Today, that some one was Crystal. And Tim. And Paul. And Jeremiah. And David. Those who cheered me on through the last rounds of wallballs even when the tears were still streaming down my cheeks.
Today was a PR for me. Not in any one activity - but in finding a place within myself that can keep going when I never would on my own. And I'm not afraid to be broken anymore.
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