Choosing the Direction of My Love
I realize now there was one central reason I played sports as a kid. I wanted to belong. There were some bright moments on the high school football team, but I knew I would never be a star player. It was the opportunity to connect with a group, develop camaraderie, and form an identity that held the drawing power. I basked in the glow of being a football player! I was one of the guys! I even heard myself telling others that I loved football.
Looking back, the hype all feels a bit silly now.
Yet everyone, it seems, gravitates toward a group identity – even the non-conformist rebels tend to drift toward one another. The power of belonging is what I believe is behind the cohesiveness of ethnic groups, political parties, gangs, religious groups, and social-sexual associations – think of all the letters hanging together in LGBTQ+. Group identity empowers individuals to feel bigger than just one little ol’ person. But what fuels a person’s drive toward a particular association?
I believe it is rooted in what a person has chosen to love.
The Highway of Love
There are a lot of ways to define how love is talked about these days. But regardless what definition a person adheres to, I think it’s important to remind ourselves that none are immune from pursuing that which they have chosen to give themselves. Everyone loves in some manner. I’m referring to love as the choice or impulse to hand ourselves over in thought, deed, and affection to another. It could be to an idea, an activity, a system, a group, or a person. We all do it! Not all wisely, and not all that leads to good ends. We attach ourselves and our affections through our choices to admirable people (often just ourselves), stimulating projects and entertainment, stirring ideals, intriguing philosophies, heart-gripping beliefs. It depends on what we are convinced will enrich our identities or at least make us happier.
Read MoreChoosing to Honor My Parents
My dad turns 86 tomorrow. He and my mom have been living with us for the past several years. And it’s been so good to have them near in this senior season of their lives. They are able to engage with their grandchildren and great grandchildren in regular and meaningful ways. Having them close has also kindled reflections on what a parent is and can be through all the seasons of life. Traversing the ups and downs of raising four children, my mother and father have provided an example to me and my wife of what it means to endure in faith, hope and love through layers of pain, joy, and disappointment. They exude a tenacious wisdom and belief in God’s goodness as I hear them praying daily for every member of their family and the struggles of their nation.
From a godly mom and dad, I have consistently been given a healthy perspective for navigating life . . . that is to take EVERYTHING to God.
Difficult Parents
But not everyone is able to say the same about their parents. A father and a mother can be either a source of great comfort, joy, and guidance or a contributor to deep confusion, pain, and bitterness — most often a perplexing mix of the positive and negative. During my years in ministry, I have encountered heart-wrenching stories of parenting: abuse, neglect, abandonment, selfishness, narcissism. And the question often comes up, how can a child with such an upbringing sincerely obey the 5th biblical Commandment: “Honor your father and mother”? What if nothing honorable can be seen in how mothers or fathers have lived their lives or raised their children?
Read MoreChoosing to See IT in Me
I have worked with some people over the years with serious pride issues. Surely you know the type I’m talking about. They see and hear only what they want and leave room for little to no outside input into their work, their projects, their relationships or their lives. They’re blind to everything outside themselves.
Ugh!
I remember one of my very first jobs working as a government employee. My immediate manager was tasked with training me to take over her job before she retired—that was the position I had applied for and what I was hired to do. The problem was, however, that she personally felt (I found out later) that I was being given this position at too young of an age. Afterall, she had had to work her way up over the years through the ranks having started as a janitor. I was a punk kid fresh out of college. So she stalled. I was given meaningless tasks for months but never trained to do any of her job. Many a night I fumed at home over this woman’s arrogance. She thought her personal assessment of me and the situation trumped what I had been hired to do. She was blind to my needs, my abilities, my ambitions and, not least of all, our supervisor’s instructions. And I was being abused in the process. But of course, she thought she knew better. So I quit.
Ouch!
After recalling this little piece of my history, I’m reminded (uncomfortably so) that people who walk in pride typically are very sensitive to and angered by the pride they see in others. They rarely, however, see it in themselves. That doesn’t reflect well on me.
Read MoreChoosing to Follow His Promises
What is it about children and their selective hearing? They conveniently fail to perceive instructions or warnings they don’t like. But if a parent for some reason does not follow through with something he said he might do, there is a predictable mantra shouted:
“But you promised!”
And it’s that word “promised” that carries the punch. They never say, “You mentioned . . .” or “suggested” or “implied.” They use the most powerful word they know, making it synonymous with a vow, a pledge, a commitment, or a blood oath. It’s all to impose guilt on the parent, of course, as if he is committing a moral sin (and perhaps he is) by not fulfilling what the child expected. And yet we adults are not much different in how we use that word.
Trust Issues
A promise is the assurance given that something is going to happen. And as we get older, it’s typical for us to become cynical about any kind of verbal guarantee. When broken promises become more common than those that are fulfilled in our lives, we lower our expectations. Words become more meaningless. Written contracts become more necessary. Promises made in relationships, politics, and religion become more doubtful.
And we eventually scoff and sneer at the idea that any person can be counted on to keep a promise. The crux of the issue is always the questions surrounding the character and reliability of that “person” making the promise. Is there anyone who is worthy of such trust?
Read MoreChoosing a Long-Term View of My Life
It hit the airwaves just before I graduated from high school. And though I never absorbed any of the lyrics except the first line, I found myself humming and singing those few words over and over. There was also a movie and TV series that showcased the song.
“Fame! I want to live forever!”
Irene Cara belted it out so effectively at the top of the charts that I didn’t have to see any of the shows to remember it. Afterall, who doesn’t want to be famous, and who doesn’t want to live forever?
Well, it turns out that there are those who don’t want the pressures of fame. Ask celebrities who cannot go out in public without being harassed. And concerning living forever? it depends on who you ask.
What’s so great about a long life?
I recently read a post by a self-proclaimed Gen Z atheist. He was poking fun at how long the Bible claims pre-flood people lived. Methuselah has the biblical record of 969 years. “I’m already bored with this world,” he wrote. “Can you imagine living hundreds of years without the internet or any technology? No thank you.”
While there is much that could be said about this young man’s stereotypical Gen Z dependence on technology to get through any given day, it’s his view of the burdens of a long life that interests me here. It sounds like he might disagree with the song Fame. Living forever without technical support for entertainment sounds miserable, even cruel. If living hundreds of years is intolerable, what would it be like to be immortal?
Yet the search for immortality seems to be as old as humanity’s existence. The Mesopotamian Epic of Gilgamesh is an example of an ancient quest for immortality. The conclusion, of course, is that death is inevitable. But some sort of eternal life can be attained through being remembered by those who are left behind. This is what I assume the song Fame is referring to: I want to be famous for something so that I will live in people’s minds and the stories they tell long after I die.
Read MoreChoosing to Speak Life
As far back as I can remember, I have largely interpreted life, my value, and my impressions of those around me through the words I hear. What I have taken in through my ears has lodged deep into my soul. Countless words have cut like a knife, leaving me emotionally bleeding and struggling for air, while many others have wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a wintry day, imparting strength to keep going. And still others, for better or worse, have quietly and subtilely shaped my perceptions and understanding of the world. Some carry the breath of life. Others work to strangle or crush it. They are more than just physical sound waves pounding on my eardrums. They carry something invisible and other-worldly with a potency that can rearrange my insides for good or for bad.
Words matter!
Their force, I believe, is rooted in their origin. The Bible tells us that the Almighty Creator brought into physical existence that which was in His mind by speaking. “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light” (Genesis 1:3). In that same chapter, we’re also told that God created man and woman in His image (Genesis 1:26-27). While bearing His image holds many theological implications, one of them, it seems, is that we possess abilities patterned, to a lesser degree, after our Creator. Humans can take something they have imagined in their minds and bring it into existence through creative labor. Every invention (like the lightbulb), every work of craftsmanship (like a mahogany table), and every organizational system (like government agencies) started at one time as an idea in someone’s head. Like the One who made us, we all are creators at some level . . . for good or for bad.
What are we calling into being?
Words are the most basic creative element we possess. They start as ideas in our heads, or even in our spirits, and as we choose to speak or write them, they can transform into forces that impact everyone around us.
Read MoreChoosing to Begin Small
How many plans have been started with grand vision and then abandoned because of how insignificant and underwhelming the idea later felt? My visionary follow-through often struggles. Emotions of discouragement settle in when the glorious things I imagine don’t swiftly materialize.
Not seeing an acorn rapidly sprout into a mighty oak, could easily keep me from watering, nurturing, or even planting it in the first place. Difficulty envisioning a broken, painful relationship restored to something beautiful and life-giving could keep me from pursuing it, praying for it, and persevering in hope. Even the process of what God desires to transform within me could stall before it starts as old fears, mindsets, and doubts stubbornly refuse to surrender their dominance. It’s so difficult to go all in when what I’m starting with is pitifully minuscule or deformed, carrying no resemblance of what I’m hoping for.
Exercising faith can be so difficult.
Yet a tiny, mediocre, or unlikely beginning best describes the inception of so many significant undertakings. Only later is the fully-matured outcome looked upon as grand and imposing. God seems to have no problem starting with something or someone that is tiny, broken, or unimpressive. In the book of the prophet Zechariah, He warns His people to not wrongly judge the initial steps of rebuilding the temple. All they could see was a sadly mediocre foundation. It promised none of the greatness of the awe -inspiring place of worship that Solomon had built.
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin . . .” (Zechariah 4:10a NLT).
He Sees it Differently than Us
God was the hopeful One. He was delighted that what He had in mind was being acted upon. He didn’t degrade any part of the project that had begun in faithful obedience. But what do we tend to do when we despise something? Reject it. Neglect it. Disregard it. When we can’t see the significance, we easily turn our attention to other things, and in the process miss what God is doing and what He has in mind for our future and the future of the world.
Read MoreChoosing a Different Kind of Friendship
I was a child when I remember first hearing the concept of having a “friendship with God.” It provided a welcome relief from the burden of legalism my young perception of religion had pressed on me. But looking back, I now see that this new paradigm also brought a problem. My reference point for “friendship” was rooted in adolescent relationships, which were all focused on what made ME feel good. Thus, while thinking of my connection with God as a friend made Christianity more attractive, it also skewed my image of Him as I viewed our relationship through the fuzzy lens of what’s-in-it-for-me.
Friendships, in my adolescent mind, were supposed to boost MY self-esteem. They were supposed to make ME feel more valuable and less lonely. I was supposed to feel happier, more attractive and always affirmed in MY likes, dislikes and behavior. With the perfect friend at MY side, I imagined MY social awkwardness would disappear; MY shyness around girls would evaporate; I would get more compliments and affirmation. And I would have someone to help ME with MY homework to get straight A’s. The friendship motif was brilliant! Who would not want a relationship like this with God?
A Different Kind
Initially, I felt hopeful. I had found the secret to the good Christian life: walking through this world with God as my Buddy. However, as time went on, I began to experience frustration and disappointment. God didn’t show up as a friend in all the ways I expected. I didn’t always feel happy, and I felt even more socially awkward. Loneliness still haunted me and guilt and shame nipped at my heels. My relationship with God eventually cooled as I began to see Him as not knowing how real friends were supposed to act. He needed to learn a thing or two about how to be there for me when I needed Him.
It was quite a few years later that the truth dawned on me. I had never looked into or thought about God’s understanding of “friendship.” Was it possible that His perspective was different than mine? Was He actually friends with people in the Bible? And if so, were there ground rules? How did they work?
Read MoreChoosing Treasure Not Easily Seen
I traveled quite a bit when my children were young. I led outreach teams to foreign countries and could be gone for several weeks at a time. We didn’t have a lot of money, and so when it came to bringing gifts home to my kids, I had to get creative. For my two young boys, I began to bring them rocks from the different countries I visited.
For one trip, I traveled with a team throughout the North African nation of Tunisia. On one of our days, we toured some of the ruins of Carthage, the ancient enemy of Rome. I don’t know what it is like today, but back when I was there, we were allowed to wander among the crumbling columns dating back 2,500 years. With remains of the timeworn pillars lying about on the ground, I picked up several pieces for my return-home gifts.
My boys were delighted (as they had been with all the rocks I had given them from previous travel). They listened to me explain where these had come from, how old these pieces of masonry were, and why they were actually very precious because of the history they represented. A few days later I found out that they had taken their rock collection outside with some friends to “play with.” The stones of ancient Carthage were never seen again. Perhaps one day archeologists will find them and ponder whether Carthaginians might have had an outpost in East Texas.
It’s a difficult task to teach children how to value things that they don’t see immediate value in. Truly, it’s difficult to teach adults that as well.
For a Bowl of Stew
There’s a story in the Old Testament that illustrates how blind “big kids” can be to the treasures they have right in front of them (Genesis 25:29-34). Esau, son of Isaac and older brother to Jacob is said to have come home from a grueling day in the wilderness. He smelled the stew that his younger brother was making and insisted that he give him some. Jacob, the devious younger brother, agreed on the condition that Esau deliver over to him the birthright that was unique to the oldest son. “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” he said. He then agreed to his brother’s demands, gobbled down his bowl of lentils, and went on to whatever he was doing next.
Read MoreChoosing to Reject Half Truths
I have been a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien’s work for quite a while. Not only do I enjoy reading and rereading his stories of Middle Earth Hobbits, Elves, and Dwarves, but I find snatches of insight about his personal life, faith, and philosophy intriguing and inspiring as well. Recently I read on an online site the following statement: “JRR Tolkien refused to let his books be read out loud to people until after his death, preferring to keep his words ‘on the page.’”
This fascinated me. Since he was a philologist (someone who studies the history of languages), I knew from other reading that Tolkien had picked up some quirks from his studies, particularly from Medieval Norse languages and their accompanying myths. He was fluent in the Anglo-Saxon language, also known as Old English, and studied ancient Finnish. He also strongly disliked allegory and bristled at the suggestion that The Lord of the Rings was a parallel retelling of the first and second world wars. It is even said that he had a near-fanatical love of plant life, refusing to cut down or even prune overgrown trees. He was a creative man of strong and sometimes eccentric opinions.
Thus, this latest anecdote stirred a delighted sense of wonder. What might have been his thought processes motivating such reverence for written words (he was Roman Catholic) that he desired his own to be read silently?
I wanted to know more.
OUCH!
The most interesting thing I ended up learning about this, however, was that it simply was not true. Tolkien never said such a thing. He had no problem with his books being read out loud. I now believe the source I got it from meant the whole thing as a joke.
But why did I find this fabrication so fascinating?
I think its subtle quirkiness made it believable in my mind. I could somehow see such a creative man saying something like this. I knew, after all, that he wasn’t afraid to consider things that flowed against the popular current. Yes, this particular view was very odd. But it felt true. There was part of me that actually wanted it to be real.
I have often heard it said that a good lie is 90% truth. Lies aren’t useful if they’re not believable and at least somewhat attractive.
And so, I’m once again pondering the nature of deception.
Read More
Choose This Day 