Mind the Community

I love to sit in the back of a room and just watch as stories unfold. There are so many unique details in human interaction that we often miss. The unspoken exchange between old friends, the hesitancy among new acquaintances, the ability for an old married couple to seemingly ignore one another for hours and yet still be aware of the actions of their spouse for the entire night...there's a beauty in such intricate connections that can only be appreciated from afar.

I could go weeks without direct human interaction and still feel connected to the world around me. The true intrinsic value of community lies not in our conversations or our shared experiences; rather, the real value of community lies in the ability to recognize that which makes it valuable.

Before I go further, do not mistake this statement as some sort of overtly-stereotypical reflection of my introverted nature. Though my preferences may lead me to solitude more frequently than the average person, I find just as much enjoyment and satisfaction out of quality human interaction as anyone else. What I am trying to promote, however, is that level of deep reflection that is generally only possible when one separates oneself from the main event.

We were created to live in community. The very quality of our existence is directly proportional to the quality of our interactions. For all my boasting of being an introvert, I know how much more alive I feel after a conversation with a good friend than a day spent alone. We, at our natures' core, seek to be understood. We want to be loved and accepted. We find our identity in understanding our role in the larger whole. It's why so many of us love the beauty of a clear night full of stars; that feeling of insignificance reminds us that we are simply a minuscule fragment of a grandiose universe, a period in a grand story. If you don't agree with me now, mull it over a while. It's a beautiful thing to feel that you are part of something bigger than yourself.

Though I occasionally get criticized for it, I love to be somewhere full of people and simply sit back and watch events and interactions unfold. To be able to see all that is good and pure in human interaction is to witness one of the best of God's creations. I have found, for example, that seeing the love my dad has for my mom causes me to love them each more deeply. When we interact with another person, it is impossible to separate our own individual selves - our perceptions, reactions and preferences - from that interaction. But when we can see the beauty and fullness in the interactions of others we can more clearly appreciate the roles we ourselves play in the communities we take part in.

My charge to you is to spend some time intentionally witnessing the beauty of community. Take a break from having to be at the center of the action and experience the view from the sidelines. When we spend so much time trying to keep from missing out, we lose the opportunity to really live well with one another.

Inner Ramblings

Perhaps we all feel this way once in a while, I thought. Maybe we all question our identities, our choices, our roles. She asked me who I’d be if I were someone different. I told her I didn't know. But I know that there are days…no, moments of days… in which I am not completely content with who I am now. Or rather, with aspects of myself that seem impervious to change. It happens in those seconds between breaths when I allow my mind to roam unchecked. It happens when I am least engaged, when I can’t focus.

More than anything else, I know who I am. I have roved the inner workings of my mind and have processed every system, every habit. I see each inconsistency, every compulsion, the unstable roots. And I see the brilliancy of every stalwart fortress built to thwart the pitfalls. I marvel at the intricacies of thought and perception. I know my limitations. I can analyze every action and see the cause behind it. I have learned to love my own mind, eccentric as it may be.

She asked me who I’d be if I were someone different. The truth is that she doesn't exist. The tweaks and tinkerings needed for her to be created aren't going to come to fruition. I love what God has made me. But we often wish to change that which we love the most. It is the human condition to seek perfection and to always fall short.

This is no rambling of self-loathing or letter of entreaty for pity. It is merely a statement of truth, an acknowledgement of the feeling that there are times when we all want to play a role we weren't casted for. The trick is to keep the spotlight from seeking another target.

The trick is to take another breath.  

Cerebral perceptions

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about types of people. I’m not referring to a certain way of dress or a certain social grouping; I’m talking about those aspects of each of us that make us who we are, that give us a ‘type’. We’ve come up with an array of classifications to help us understand one another. We put each other in small, predictable boxes to try and make sense of interactions, of relationships. Our perceptions of others are based on our own perceptions of the world. Our lens is always egocentric. We can hardly be expected to make sense of ourselves, let alone the people around us.

I think that’s what all relationships are. We find people who share some aspect of ourselves because it gives us something to grasp, some clearer object to hold onto. We cling to that mutualness for as long as it continues to tie us together and isn’t broken by one of those stronger forces of change that make the connection look too fuzzy. Some frayed ropes can be knotted and re-knotted and I think that that is what love is; we continue to be tethered to those few people who make the most sense, or whose foggy spots we are most willing to ignore.  

We warn against those people who seem to change with the crowd, but perhaps those people are the ones least to be pitied. Or the least to be lonely. Those of us who fulfill our roles in every situation are the ones who have the most chance of loss. Our lack of variation means that our connections are fewer, our isolation potentially more widespread. Perhaps those of us who live within the confines of our own heads have the greater capacity to love, but the less possibility of such demonstrations.

Perhaps this is all just my attempt at retying a knot. Of fulfilling my role. Or of foolishly attempting to change it. 

Life in the Valley

A special thanks to Dr. Bob, Skoutz, Allison Zandarski, David Joe & Bev Hatter, and the Singleton family for their help and wisdom that led to the thoughts in this blog post. I am beyond blessed to know each of you. 

    As we crested that final cliff, I stood to full height and looked out over the scene below. A tapestry of colors stretched between the peaks. Fields of golds, reds, greens and purples colored the valley from the foot of our mountain to the foot of the next. We were overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, exclaiming at how great our Creator is. I chuckled inwardly, however, when I remembered our same voices shouting curses at the pain in our legs and the heat on our backs just moments before during our ascent.

    As Christians we sometimes believe that our lives should always be "clean." We constantly seek some state of happiness or some lack of trial. To continue with the analogy from the anecdote above, we try to live from mountaintop to mountaintop, attempting to sprint through the spaces between. We try hard to stifle our questions and cast all doubt aside. We use the "feel good" verses and cliches to blindly mollify ourselves and one another. We tiptoe around grief, sneak past drama and blatantly ignore messiness. We have traded any thoughts of a wartime mindset for tolerance and an acceptance of mere adequacy.
    But when I get to the top of a mountain, I realize that the view wouldn't be half as breathtaking if I hadn't gotten a few bumps and bruises during the climb. I think this idea that Christian are to constantly seek "higher ground" is hogwash. No, we are not called to live in a constant state of misery, not by any means; we can find joy and freedom in the grace we have been given.  But I think that when we are in the valley, the best way to get out of it is to be willing to stay in it. Were we, as believers, more inclined to embrace our doubts, our trials, our suffering, we could more fully appreciate all that is glorious about our salvation. If we were a bit more inclined to get our noses dirty, we could experience the life that Christ died for.
    The eye of the storm is the safest place to be and yet we try so hard to avoid life's hardships that we get sucked into the turmoil rather than accepting the struggle and coming out whole on the other side. If we allow ourselves to fall face-first, we are able to get back up more quickly than if the fall surprises us, knocking us flat on our backs.
    My final charge us simply this: make a commitment to messiness. Allow godly sorrow back into the Church. Ask hard questions. Be willing to sit awhile in your doubt or pain. Embrace grief.
    Live fully when you are in the valley and see how faithful our God is to lead you out of it.

The Book of Job

(Special shout-out to Tom Neyhart for holding me accountable to this)

With only about 10 chapters left in the book of Job, I admit that I am quite a bit behind in updating you all on what God is teaching me through this book. I can list off excuses and reasons for my procrastination, but the honest truth is that I simply haven't had anything to write about. Normally I write my blog posts in my head, for the most part, throughout the day as inspiration hits and then get it down on keys before I forget it all. My delayed response about what I've been reading is mostly due to a lack of such inspiration.

My initial reaction is guilt. I had such high hopes and plans for this study and reflex tells me to blame it on a lack of focus and motivation, which, admittedly, is partially true. I could have been taking more time to truly reflect on what I've been reading and to seek God's wisdom through His Word. As humans, we will always fall short, there is always room for improvement. I am just as human as the next person (perhaps even more so at times.)

My secondary reaction is, of course, self-defense. At this point in my psyche, the obstinate part of my nature rules out and the justification process starts to occur. I list off the various other commitments in my mind that are deemed at least as important as my quiet time is, or at the very least, reasonable explanations for why I have been slacking a bit with Job. During this stage of my thought process, guilt becomes a very tiny spec in the rear-view mirror on the road to blamelessness.

Why does any of this matter? It doesn't, except to help prove a point that would seem completely irrelevant if I hadn't first given you the context in which I discovered it.

The only real, solid insight I've been able to grasp through this time in the Book of Job is that we, as humans - broken, mortal, flawed humans - don't really have much of a say in the category of "life lessons." Of course, we can ask God to teach us certain things, or allow Him to put us in situations that will undoubtedly lead to our growth, but we don't actually get to decide the minute details that are the true framework needed for us to learn and grow. Here I was believing that I could tell God that I was ready to learn A, B and C from the book of Job in X number of days. I told God that I would be so challenged by this book and that insights would pour from my brain to share with other people. And now, the only insight I can truly share with you is that on my own I have no insights at all. I have been growing and learning so much during this time of going through Job, but I can attribute very little of it to my actual reading.

Praise God that He is so much bigger than our plans. Otherwise, we'd all be horribly doomed.

A Journey through Job: A challenge for us all

So, I've decided to try something very new for this blog of mine. From the loving critique of a good friend (ahem, Janet) as well as the promptings of the Holy Spirit, I have decided to spend the next several weeks going through the book of Job. Sure, I know the basic story and have read most of the book, but I have never done a real study on the person of Job and his trials with God.

Right now in my life, I believe God is really calling me to take a look at my faith. I have been insanely blessed in my life. God has carried me through every trial and has provided for me in every way. Now, as I draw ever closer to the time in my life where I will truly be independent, I want to make sure that I have a faith that goes beyond the comfortable, beyond the safe. I want a faith that can withstand the storms of life, no matter when they come or how they may look.

What I ask is simply for you all to join me. I would love to have some people go through the book with me (I plan to read a chapter a day, which makes 42 days.) We can share thoughts and insights. I plan to hopefully blog at least once a week about what God is showing me.

More importantly, I ask for prayer. I know full well that I am basically asking God to test me right now and, scary as that is, I am excited for it. But I know that Satan hates for us to try to draw closer to our Lord, so I ask for prayers for wisdom and protection.

This may sound strange to some of you and frankly, it's still a bit strange for me. This idea popped up rather abruptly (it's why I'm still awake at 11:10 on a weekday!) But I am choosing to take this very seriously. So if you are willing to journey with me, please text/call/message me and let me know. I would greatly appreciate it.

I praise God for His blessings in my life every day. But if He did not bless me so, would I still praise His name? That is the question I am hoping to answer.

Reflections on Holiness

First off, I'd like to send a special thanks to all of the students, faculty and staff who made this week so spectacular. 

During this week at camp our focus was on holiness. We spent each day trying to understand it more and to realize how we can pursue holiness in our lives. These thoughts are just what I have compiled after all of our studying, discussing and praying:

Holiness is what we strive for, what we aim for. It is our deepest craving and loftiest ambition.
Holiness is perfection; pure, sweet and breathing.
Holiness is not a set of rules or standards, but it is an expectation. We must expect that our holiness can only come with the aid of He who is holy. We should expect to fail on our own for holiness cannot be attained single-handedly. We can expect there to be wounds and scars along the path to holiness for it is only by wounds and scars that such holiness exists.
Holiness means, at its core, to be set apart. There is no room for holiness among those who pursue fame and recognition. It cannot be found snuggled beside comfort or cozied up to apathy. Holiness is the choice of the wanderer, he that knows what it is to crave societal acceptance and yet turns away in his pursuit of more.
Holiness is righteous anger, all brimstone and fire.
Holiness is the heart's longing toward compassion, its love for mercy, its passion for grace.
Holiness is the presence of all the good in the world and the absence of all that is false or wicked.
Holiness cannot be borrowed, stolen or bought with earthly treasures. The price for holiness is nothing less than our very lives and nothing more than the single task of answering the call.
Holiness is our purpose for living and our joy in dying.
Holiness is not conclusive, except in that it will only truly be understood in the end.
Holiness is not inclusive; holiness excludes the weak-willed, the self-absorbed, the lover of foolishness.
Holiness is found in perfect unity with one another. It is the fulfillment of love, the epitome of truth.
Holiness is God, was created by God and does not exist apart from Him.