Choosing to STOP and LISTEN
As I pulled up to the stop light in a Dallas suburb, I mumbled under my breath, “Right, left or straight?” The word “right” lingered in my mind, so I made the turn. My knuckles were white clinging to the steering wheel, and every muscle in my body felt like tightly wound guitar strings. As I rounded the corner, a row of yellow buses were parked ahead. An incredulous sigh of relief burst from my lungs.
I had been distracted and failed to get directions to my 13-year-old daughter’s volleyball tournament in Dallas. Our family was at a hotel in the city for a week-long conference. I had the task of picking Natalie up after her last game so that she could join the rest of us at the hotel. Her coach had agreed that I should come get her just before the team drove back to our hometown of Lindale, nearly 100 miles away. Family cell phones were yet a thing of the future. I had no way of calling to get directions or inform her that she should just ride back with her team and stay with a friend till our conference ended. My little girl was going to be left on a Dallas street corner with evening coming on! It was my fault, and I was desperate.
And then an absurd thought: “You believe that God speaks? Ask Him to guide you to the tournament site.”
With the sun getting low, I didn’t debate the idea long. I pulled out of the hotel parking lot, repeating my four-word prayer at every intersection, trying to keep all the rational questions at bay. And then after about 20 minutes, I saw her standing beside one of the tournament school buses. I was dumbfounded. It had really worked!
God, the Communicator
It was a long time before I shared this experience with anybody, mainly because I felt like such a bad father having forgotten to get the directions. But it was a profound reminder of what the Bible reveals—that God cares, He speaks, and He wants us to hear and respond (1 Samuel 3:1-11; John 10:2-5). And it’s not hard to imagine that He has even more to say than merely providing driving directions.
Read MoreChoosing to Recognize My Adulterous Heart
The first time I remember contemplating the word “adultery,” I wondered why it was called that. My conclusion, as a child, was that it was a word to describe the many things that adults do. Though I did not understand it, at the time, this homemade etymological explanation made sense to me. The world of adults was still mysterious. It wasn’t till I was a teen that the more specific meaning became clear. The word “adultery” was then replaced with a more contemporary term, “having an affair.”
But opportunities to ponder expressions of the word did not go away. Movies and stories referred to it. I eventually heard of colleagues and friends having extra-marital affairs, occasionally calling it adultery. But my understanding of the meaning had to be expanded when I ran across something Jesus said to those following Him:
“Then some of the scribes and Pharisees answered him, saying, ‘Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.’ But he answered them, ‘An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah’” (Matthew 12:38-39 ESV).
How could an entire generation of people be adulterous?
Recently, I returned to wrestling with this question. The word, used as an adjective in this verse, doesn’t seem to refer to sexual unfaithfulness. So, what is behind it?
Lots of Affairs
A quick Google search reveals that unfaithfulness in marriages and cohabitating relationships is quite common. There is no single consistent number given, but I saw 25% mentioned several times. That’s a quarter of all “committed” unions experiencing some kind of sexual/emotional unfaithfulness, often more than once. And these numbers come from the ones who have admitted it. Surely there are many who never confess. Of this number, males have a higher rate of occurrence by quite a bit. But the female number is growing.
What leads someone to have an extra-marital affair, to commit adultery (as the Bible calls it)?
Read MoreChoosing to Go Slow
There’s something gratifying about finding a way to make a long journey shorter. I look to my GPS for help these days. But even as a kid, I was always looking for a short cut. When I was 12, my friends showed me a quicker way to the store where we could buy candy. It happened to go through a stranger’s backyard and across his patio. I used it many times until an angry man stuck his head out a window and yelled at me, threatening to call the cops. Shortcuts may get me where I want to be sooner, but they can create unforeseen problems as well. Looking for the quicker and easier way becomes a mindset and habit that infects all my decision making.
The temptation to reach goals faster, cut corners or bypass steps in a process shows up everywhere. Businesses consider it by offering lower-quality products. Builders face it when trying to increase profit margins. Students have to make a choice when they discover a way to cheat on a test and get the ‘A’ with no studying. I fall into it when I’m assembling IKEA furniture and don’t want to take time to read the instructions. Shortcuts offer a more direct path to a goal and the feeling that I have escaped unnecessary suffering or drudgery. But at what hidden cost?
Read MoreChoosing to Empty Myself
It’s a simple but often maligned and misunderstood word. To be considered humble is a compliment for some and an insult for others. It’s frequently associated with being soft spoken, self-deprecating, and wallowing in low self-esteem. While many people consider it a virtue of some kind, few of us are out there actively seeking to increase our humility. We intuitively know that something about the process is not going to feel good. And if someone recognizes that more humility is needed and wants to obtain it, it’s a rare person that has any idea of how to go about increasing it.
One of the reasons more people don’t seek it is that they don’t really know exactly what it is. So many of us look to certain feelings within to assure ourselves that we have the virtues we think are important. Yet the virtues of the Christian faith are much more about choosing than feeling. I have often invited students in my classes to stand up and be humble for a few moments. The clever ones will respond by saying that if they stand while everyone else is sitting, then they’re lifting themselves above the others and therefore not humble. But most of them just scratch their heads in puzzlement. Even if it is a feeling, how can a person create it at will?
How does one choose to be humble?
Read MoreChoosing Liberty
“Being able to do whatever I want to do.” That’s how a young man at the mall replied to my friend who was randomly asking strangers to define “freedom.” Many of the other responses that day were similar. Later, after hearing all the homemade definitions, it struck me that I wasn’t sure I had in my head a clear explanation of this word we throw around so often. We Americans have traditionally prided ourselves in living in the “Land of the free.” So, what does that mean? And of course, it’s also an important word for Jesus followers. We’re told that “For freedom Christ has set us free” (Galatians 5:1, ESV).
An online dictionary defines freedom as “the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.” This sounds good for me personally. But when I think about others having this same ability, particularly those with below-average character, those with dark intentions, and those who just don’t like me, I’m uncomfortable. I want restraints put in place. I don’t want others doing whatever they want without hindrance because I don’t trust everyone’s heart motivations. Nor am I confident in everyone’s ability to think through all the long-term consequences of doing whatever they feel like. And thankfully, there are some restraints, such as social expectations and laws.
Freedom is a strange thing. That which I passionately protect for myself, I reluctantly release to others. After all, if freedom is not understood or used rightly, it’s dangerous.
Read MoreChoosing Painful Love
I read of her in my college literature class, Lady Elaine of Astolat. A figure in Arthurian legend, she died from the weight of unrequited love. Sir Lancelot just didn’t feel it the same way she did.
Of course, dying because of or for the sake of love is a theme that has popped up in stories for a while now. Think Romeo and Juliet as well as Jack in Titanic. There are stories in the news. In the midst of the sad and painful occurrences of school shootings, like the one in Minneapolis last week, inevitably we hear of those who shield others with their own bodies, ready to take a bullet for someone else. It is viewed as a heroic act of love and is honored. Why does the combination of love and death strike such deep chords in most people?
Suffering, Death . . . and Love
Much of our culture’s talk about love centers on sublime feelings or “good vibes.” How do I know I love someone? I experience a thrill or a warmth inside. That person always agrees with me. I want to be around that person all the time. I believe I will be happier and more fulfilled because I have that person in my life. I just feel better when I’m around that person.
So often, the focus of love is on me and how the other person makes me feel! Weaving our idea of love with death seems odd for ordinary circumstances. It’s no surprise then that phrases from traditional wedding vows are being dropped. How often do we now hear, “Till death do us part”?
It’s common in our culture that when the relationship’s euphoria or happiness wanes, we start wondering if we still love the other person. The doubts are especially strong when the other becomes a burden, slows me down, keeps me from fulfilling my dreams. The idea of dying (or being inconvenienced) on behalf of someone who irritates me, who doesn’t hold to what I value, or for whom I have no feelings seems absurd, and for some, even wrong.
What is love supposed to look like?
Read MoreChoosing Economic Transformation
Several years ago, I had a long layover at an Australian airport. While waiting in line to pay for a snack, the man in front of me haggled with the cashier over his purchase. He wanted to use Bitcoin to buy a candy bar. The woman ringing up the sale stated multiple times that they didn’t accept such currency. The man, for his part, went on to give a lengthy lecture on the need for them and everyone to get with the times because cryptocurrency is the future. Besides being irritated by the delay he caused, I remember thinking how foolish and out of touch the man sounded. In my limited understanding at the time, cyber money was in the same category as Monopoly money – worthless for any practical purpose.
Of course, I was wrong.
I don’t know a whole lot more today than I did back then. But I do now believe that it’s unlikely that cryptocurrency is going away. It stirs controversy and polarizes investors because it is challenging the way we understand money. And at an even more fundamental level, it is calling out how value is determined. Rather than continuing to accept the traditional system where governments and financial institutions largely control currency, crypto investors are betting on the expanding appeal of a decentralized scheme where no single person or group can manipulate value. It’s sounding more interesting even if it still seems a bit strange.
What makes something valuable?
Where value comes from is a question to ponder. Cryptocurrency and NFT’s (non-fungible tokens) after all are digital. There is nothing to hold in your hand unless you cash-in through a broker of some kind. A market for NFT artwork developed back in 2021. Unique digital NFT collectibles (Google “Bored Apes”) were being sold for thousands and even millions of dollars* (although prices have since fallen significantly, I’m sure there is something that has or will take its place). Cyber stuff now attracts investors in the same way an original Van Gogh or Rembrandt does. It’s not the material itself that holds intrinsic worth but what it represents: beauty, status, distinction, freedom, decentralization, or even just being recognized as an early adaptor.
Value is determined by what people are willing to pay for any given item, service, or recognition. Though the dollar amount may fluctuate with the needs, interests, and moods of people, value itself is a very real entity, even if it is mysteriously intangible, fluctuating in strange ways. It can cause the price of a baseball to shift from $8.99 to $752,467.20 in just a few seconds because a certain person hit it over a fence.**
Read MoreChoosing to Trust Again
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 mortal 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 question surrounding the character and reliability of that “person” making the promise. Is there anyone who is worthy of such trust?
Read MoreChoosing to Let My Shame Be Covered
It happened one day on the school playground when I was in 5th grade. A girl who I thought was my friend suddenly called me a “blockhead.” As all the surrounding kids laughed, she went on shouting that my head was too big for my body. Her tone and the unwanted attention were mortifying. I had no idea why she was saying this or even what exactly she meant by it. But rather than seeing it for what it was, foolish talk of a child, I searched for an explanation in my own immature understanding of myself.
It had been pointed out that I spent a lot of time in the school library, even during recess, reading books. I had been called weird a few times for this activity. The playground incident, however, sealed the verdict that there was something wrong with me, and I needed to change that something. So, I decided to pursue sports. Baseball, basketball, and soccer all went poorly. In high school I did well with football, receiving praise. Yet the sad truth was that I didn’t enjoy any sports that much. I just needed to feel I was OK, and being an athlete provided that covering for a brief time. I now realize I was dealing with my own brand of shame.
Read MoreChoosing Something Other than Happiness
I like to feel good. It’s a basic urge within me to chase happiness wherever I think it can be found. My country’s Declaration of Independence affirms the pursuit of it to be an inalienable right. When I imagine myself in a happy state, I see a hammock swaying between two Ponderosa pine trees overlooking a secluded mountain lake as the sun gently warms my face. There’s a good book lying open on my chest and a bowl of ice cream in one hand. Of course, to complete the scene, I just inherited a million dollars, and everyone likes me.
Oh, and there is world peace.
This may not be your picture of happiness, but it’s the first one that comes to my mind. The problem, however, is that there are too many circumstantial pieces outside my control. I may find the actual setting in some mountainous region, but it could also be raining that day. I might then discover the hammock has a rip in it; the book is boring; the ice cream is freezer-burnt; an email concerning an overdrawn checking account is in my inbox, and someone has left an angry rant on one of my blog posts. And what chance is there of all fighting to stop? Ugh.
Happiness can be so elusive.
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Choose This Day 