You might have read in one of the previous entries about my quest for some good, hearty questions to ask in 2011. The idea actually crystallized back in the early days of 2010, mostly as a revolt against forming resolutions for the new year. But there was also a part of me that was, and still is, hoping for new discovery and growth as a result of asking and answering those questions. In the end, I want to ask questions of myself that nip at the roots of some nagging habits and behaviors instead of resolving to fix the symptoms.
Consequently, I've continued to ask my favorite question almost daily- "why not now?" It's a super helpful one for kicking the procrastinator in me.
My grandma would love a call from me right now. Why not now?
I really should check in on that friend. Why not now?
Me and God need some extended hours in prayer. Why not now?
Often, I can't offer any semblance of a legitimate response, so the procrastination attempt only seems that much more ridiculous, and thus, easier to conquer. If I can offer a legitimate rationale for why whatever it is isn't happening now, then I also experience sweet freedom from the contrains of false guilt. "Why not now" has proved to be a verbal kick in the butt widely applicable to almost anything.
My recent wrestling match with security has left me asking "where am I finding my security?" Answers range from my husband to my finances, from a bowl of cookies and cream ice cream to winning favor in various social circles. This question has proved to be a doozy for me. My answers are wildly convicting, but I haven't quite figured out what to do once I answer the question. More to come on this one.
So with "why" and "where" questions covered for now, I was excited to come across another question posed last Wednesday at http://www.thestubbornservant.com/, a blog written by Nicole Unice, a Christian counselor and writer in Richmond. In an effort to explore her leadership mantra in her new role as a paid church employee, Nicole discussed her discovery of the question, "So what if it fails?" Her entry mostly focused on applying this question in the context of leadership in ministry, but I found it applicable in my roles as a layperson and unpaid minister of the Gospel, and when I kept thinking about it, also as a friend, wife, runner, and human.
The question is relevant in so many spheres because it stands vis a vis against the tall boundary of fear that separates so many of us from authentic new life. So what if it fails? So what if I fail? These questions courageously push back against the fear of failure that inhibits so many creative ideas and authentic attempts to live more abundantly. "Eventually," noted Nicole of herself and her ministry partner, "we realized that our fear of failing was outweighing our heart and our desire to work hard in the quest to creatively reach others for Christ."
So, like all invigorating and inspiring ideas, I want to steal it. It makes for an insightful question to add to my list for this year. Really, so what if this idea fails? So what if this attempt of mine fails? So what if I go out on a limb to "creatively reach others for Christ" and I fail? So what? I'm pretty sure the answer is that I'm forgiven and redeemable and that God is bigger and more powerful than my failure. Stay tuned for some specific application of this question in the coming weeks.
1.31.2011
1.24.2011
Interview of the Month
Saturday somehow afforded Jeromy and I some leisure time to explore one of Richmond City's large, historic public libraries. While Jeromy dug into a 600-page philosophy of law book with a furrowed brow, I happily reclined with January's issue of Christianity Today.
One particular article entitled The Meaning of Business caught my attention. The article was actually an interview with Jeff Van Duzer, a Christian businessman with a recent IVP book out entitled Why Business Matters to God: (And What Still Needs to Be Fixed).
Having unexpectantly found myself in the corporate world after settling back in to Richmond, the article caught my attention for the same reason it might have caught yours if you work in business:
I want someone to tell me that work in this environment matters. I want someone to explain why it matters not just so that I can support missionaries with my income or testify in the marketplace to God's truth, but because work, any type of work, matters to God. As stated in the article, God fashioned man in His image, and even in this act we see an aspect of God's character fundamental to the point: He's a worker.
To be fair, the church has made leaps and bounds as a whole in articulating a theology of work for its congregants, but the challenge lies in actually living out this celebration of vocation, both personally and corporately. We hear teaching about the intrinsic worth of every profession as it contributes to God's restorative work in the world, but this concept hasn't seemed to have pried its way into the daily lexicon of the church yet. Truth be told, employment in a field other than ministry or public service seems second rate, and as is hip to say in the corporate world, our greatest opportunity (or area of current floundering) lies in actually believing employment in the business world to be gainful in God's eyes.
One particular article entitled The Meaning of Business caught my attention. The article was actually an interview with Jeff Van Duzer, a Christian businessman with a recent IVP book out entitled Why Business Matters to God: (And What Still Needs to Be Fixed).
Having unexpectantly found myself in the corporate world after settling back in to Richmond, the article caught my attention for the same reason it might have caught yours if you work in business:
I want someone to tell me that work in this environment matters. I want someone to explain why it matters not just so that I can support missionaries with my income or testify in the marketplace to God's truth, but because work, any type of work, matters to God. As stated in the article, God fashioned man in His image, and even in this act we see an aspect of God's character fundamental to the point: He's a worker.
To be fair, the church has made leaps and bounds as a whole in articulating a theology of work for its congregants, but the challenge lies in actually living out this celebration of vocation, both personally and corporately. We hear teaching about the intrinsic worth of every profession as it contributes to God's restorative work in the world, but this concept hasn't seemed to have pried its way into the daily lexicon of the church yet. Truth be told, employment in a field other than ministry or public service seems second rate, and as is hip to say in the corporate world, our greatest opportunity (or area of current floundering) lies in actually believing employment in the business world to be gainful in God's eyes.
1.21.2011
What do JFK, a former youth pastor, and Jesus have in common?
Google so helpfully informed me yesterday of the 50th anniversary of President Kennedy’s inaugural address back in 1961. After a few squinty-eyed minutes trying to decipher the words artistically comprising Google’s ever-changing homepage design, I caught the familiar concluding lines:
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Strong, wise, and firm, his words reminded me of a familiar, albeit less eloquent admonishment I heard frequently throughout high school from my youth pastor, Lance:
If you’re not getting something out of it, put something into it.
Do you default to this rule when found in less than engaging situations or commitments? I don’t. Of course there are specific situations that warrant a graceful “bowing out,” especially if you struggle with over-commitment or if that particular obligation poses legitimate harm. Conversely, I think both Lance and JFK were trying to prompt a paradigm shift away from the identity we have inadvertently chosen for ourselves, that of the individual as consumer.
This consumerist mentality is so ingrained in many of us that we find it difficult to escape it’s dead tight grip on our current thought and behavior patterns. It doesn’t just pertain to material possessions. We consume objects as well as ideas and experiences. Whether in formal commitments at work, church, and in the community or more generally in our relationships at home, in public, and with God, we struggle to “put something into it” when whatever “it” is hasn’t earned our attention and devotion yet or in quite some time.
We offer every excuse in the book for it. We’re tired, drained, not feeling well, busy. These excuses continue because they are accepted and understood. The person hearing it most likely feels that way too! The pariah of disengaged consumption has quietly established itself as status quo in my heart and in my world.
Jesus spoke to the antithesis of this lifestyle in Mark 10 and illustrated it throughout his life:
For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
Jesus didn't enter into conversations with women at wells and men stuck in trees expecting to be served and entertained. He came offering abundant life, a twist on the ordinary, and the powerful image of God made flesh. He was a passionate giver, not a passive consumer.
If you’re like me, you engage and give yourself fully to what is placed in front of you only when your excited emotions lead you to, real or false guilt forces you to, or clear incentive is immediately available. Instead of growing in this regard as life has calmed down for me recently, I’ve found myself going through the motions in many arenas without zest or vision. I consume the feelings and experiences I want and discard the rest. If the presentation isn’t compelling, I zone out instead of asking a tough question. If the conversation isn’t interesting, I recline into a passive observer role instead of proactively listening or contributing. If my work is monotonous, I adjust to a more lenient pace instead of seeking developmental opportunities.
Why? Because I’m lazy. I’m sinful. But I’m not hopeless. I’m a woman of repentance with a God on my side who bends down to help me.
With some prayer and resolve, I want to reclaim the abundant life God designed for me marked by vibrant engagement, substantial contribution, and devoted service in every relationship, conversation, and environment of which I am a part. I’m not saying I am a necessarily fascinating individual with brilliant contributions to be made, but I know the God that lives and breathes in me is exactly that. I also know that He can utilize my gifts and engaged presence in the world for His glory.
So, my prayer is something like this: God, make me zesty.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Strong, wise, and firm, his words reminded me of a familiar, albeit less eloquent admonishment I heard frequently throughout high school from my youth pastor, Lance:
If you’re not getting something out of it, put something into it.
Do you default to this rule when found in less than engaging situations or commitments? I don’t. Of course there are specific situations that warrant a graceful “bowing out,” especially if you struggle with over-commitment or if that particular obligation poses legitimate harm. Conversely, I think both Lance and JFK were trying to prompt a paradigm shift away from the identity we have inadvertently chosen for ourselves, that of the individual as consumer.
This consumerist mentality is so ingrained in many of us that we find it difficult to escape it’s dead tight grip on our current thought and behavior patterns. It doesn’t just pertain to material possessions. We consume objects as well as ideas and experiences. Whether in formal commitments at work, church, and in the community or more generally in our relationships at home, in public, and with God, we struggle to “put something into it” when whatever “it” is hasn’t earned our attention and devotion yet or in quite some time.
We offer every excuse in the book for it. We’re tired, drained, not feeling well, busy. These excuses continue because they are accepted and understood. The person hearing it most likely feels that way too! The pariah of disengaged consumption has quietly established itself as status quo in my heart and in my world.
Jesus spoke to the antithesis of this lifestyle in Mark 10 and illustrated it throughout his life:
For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
Jesus didn't enter into conversations with women at wells and men stuck in trees expecting to be served and entertained. He came offering abundant life, a twist on the ordinary, and the powerful image of God made flesh. He was a passionate giver, not a passive consumer.
If you’re like me, you engage and give yourself fully to what is placed in front of you only when your excited emotions lead you to, real or false guilt forces you to, or clear incentive is immediately available. Instead of growing in this regard as life has calmed down for me recently, I’ve found myself going through the motions in many arenas without zest or vision. I consume the feelings and experiences I want and discard the rest. If the presentation isn’t compelling, I zone out instead of asking a tough question. If the conversation isn’t interesting, I recline into a passive observer role instead of proactively listening or contributing. If my work is monotonous, I adjust to a more lenient pace instead of seeking developmental opportunities.
Why? Because I’m lazy. I’m sinful. But I’m not hopeless. I’m a woman of repentance with a God on my side who bends down to help me.
With some prayer and resolve, I want to reclaim the abundant life God designed for me marked by vibrant engagement, substantial contribution, and devoted service in every relationship, conversation, and environment of which I am a part. I’m not saying I am a necessarily fascinating individual with brilliant contributions to be made, but I know the God that lives and breathes in me is exactly that. I also know that He can utilize my gifts and engaged presence in the world for His glory.
So, my prayer is something like this: God, make me zesty.
1.17.2011
Food for Thought
Curled up on the couch this morning, I came across this verse:
Some trust in chariots and some trust in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. Psalm 20:7
Simple. Pointed. Relevant.
This discovery couldn't have been more perfect timing after yesterday's blog entry. I've found it helpful today to rhythmically repeat and meditate on this verse, substituting modern-day symbols of power and strength for chariots and horses.
Some trust in money and some trust in popular opinion, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
Some trust in appearance and some trust in tangible pleasures, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
What would those symbols that offer false security be for you? What would it take for you and I to confidentally trust in the Lord, who calls Himself our God?
Some trust in chariots and some trust in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. Psalm 20:7
Simple. Pointed. Relevant.
This discovery couldn't have been more perfect timing after yesterday's blog entry. I've found it helpful today to rhythmically repeat and meditate on this verse, substituting modern-day symbols of power and strength for chariots and horses.
Some trust in money and some trust in popular opinion, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
Some trust in appearance and some trust in tangible pleasures, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
What would those symbols that offer false security be for you? What would it take for you and I to confidentally trust in the Lord, who calls Himself our God?
1.16.2011
Security, security, where for art thou?
Security. What comes to your mind with the sound of this word?
Financial security, job security, and the security provided by the lock on my inner-city apartment are my immediate associations. Why the abundant security found in our all-powerful Creator and Sustainer is not the first thing to come to my mind, I'm not sure. God has provided for me in every way imaginable through the years, from near-miraculous to seemingly commonplace ways (go to some of my 2009 blog entries to be encouraged by just a few). There is comfort in already receiving forgiveness for my misplaced search for security, as well as knowing I am not alone in this struggle.
Where do you search for security? What objects, ideas, or institutions do you trust in for protection against danger, damage, or loss?
I've been wrestling with God big time lately as each of these idols reveals itself as completely inadequate to providing deep, peace-producing security. Like a child throwing an inappropriate temper tantrum, I routinely find myself in a pit of sulky frustration that things have not gone as I have so painstakingly planned.
Living on a strict budget for the first time in my life has brought me close to obsession over every cent spent, assuming that this kind of micromanagement is what will make ends meet at the end of the day. So this week when a significant medical bill arrived in the mail and the motherboard of Jeromy's computer died, I was less than calm, cool, and collected. Not only had I not anticipated these expenses, but my trust in my financial finesse had failed me.
Similarly, I expect that exceeding expectations and winning favorable opinion in the workplace will guarantee a steady future income. So when the boss that hired me and invested in me left our company in August, I found myself anxiously wondering if my new boss would see the same potential in me and want to keep me around. When it comes to environmental security, I even rest better at night as I unswervingly trust in the flimsy lock and porch light at the rear of our apartment to protect against any possibility of intrusion.
My misstep here is not necessarily out-rightly worshiping these things, but a quiet belief in the protection I assume they bring that only the Father actually provides. I trust in these things for my security more than I trust God who asked me rather to be a wise steward of them.
So I'm praying, striving, and hoping to turn my stubborn mind away from this trap and instead aiming to spend some time meditating on God as my rock this week. Indeed, God has made Himself known both in Scripture and through experience as strong, unbreakable, sturdy, and secure. A quick word search reveals that David addressed this specific identity of God at least 27 times in the Psalms, acknowledging Him as "the Rock that is higher than I." How has He shown Himself as such in your life experience? Have you let Him, or are you with me, clinging to your paycheck or people's opinion for your security?
I think I've found at least one question I want to keep asking in 2011. Where is my security? My mind knows that God provides absolute security in our complacency, our need, our joy, and our questions, and I'm asking Him to "help my unbelief" to make my thoughts and actions speak to that same knowledge.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. Psalm 62:2
Financial security, job security, and the security provided by the lock on my inner-city apartment are my immediate associations. Why the abundant security found in our all-powerful Creator and Sustainer is not the first thing to come to my mind, I'm not sure. God has provided for me in every way imaginable through the years, from near-miraculous to seemingly commonplace ways (go to some of my 2009 blog entries to be encouraged by just a few). There is comfort in already receiving forgiveness for my misplaced search for security, as well as knowing I am not alone in this struggle.
Where do you search for security? What objects, ideas, or institutions do you trust in for protection against danger, damage, or loss?
I've been wrestling with God big time lately as each of these idols reveals itself as completely inadequate to providing deep, peace-producing security. Like a child throwing an inappropriate temper tantrum, I routinely find myself in a pit of sulky frustration that things have not gone as I have so painstakingly planned.
Living on a strict budget for the first time in my life has brought me close to obsession over every cent spent, assuming that this kind of micromanagement is what will make ends meet at the end of the day. So this week when a significant medical bill arrived in the mail and the motherboard of Jeromy's computer died, I was less than calm, cool, and collected. Not only had I not anticipated these expenses, but my trust in my financial finesse had failed me.
Similarly, I expect that exceeding expectations and winning favorable opinion in the workplace will guarantee a steady future income. So when the boss that hired me and invested in me left our company in August, I found myself anxiously wondering if my new boss would see the same potential in me and want to keep me around. When it comes to environmental security, I even rest better at night as I unswervingly trust in the flimsy lock and porch light at the rear of our apartment to protect against any possibility of intrusion.
My misstep here is not necessarily out-rightly worshiping these things, but a quiet belief in the protection I assume they bring that only the Father actually provides. I trust in these things for my security more than I trust God who asked me rather to be a wise steward of them.
So I'm praying, striving, and hoping to turn my stubborn mind away from this trap and instead aiming to spend some time meditating on God as my rock this week. Indeed, God has made Himself known both in Scripture and through experience as strong, unbreakable, sturdy, and secure. A quick word search reveals that David addressed this specific identity of God at least 27 times in the Psalms, acknowledging Him as "the Rock that is higher than I." How has He shown Himself as such in your life experience? Have you let Him, or are you with me, clinging to your paycheck or people's opinion for your security?
I think I've found at least one question I want to keep asking in 2011. Where is my security? My mind knows that God provides absolute security in our complacency, our need, our joy, and our questions, and I'm asking Him to "help my unbelief" to make my thoughts and actions speak to that same knowledge.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. Psalm 62:2
1.11.2011
Got Boredom? Try This.
Does anyone else ever suffer from boredom with the hum drum components of life? Some days, I passively accept the predictability and status quo, even finding comfort in it. Occasionally, however, I am on the prowl for something, anything to break up the monotony and surprise me, shock me, or otherwise entertain me.
Thanks to reputable new sources such as AOL News’ “Weird News” feature, entertainment is only a click away. Please enjoy the following doses of unbelievable, disgusting, and bewildering news brought to my attention by my husband:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-12160874
http://www.aolnews.com/2011/01/10/chinas-huang-yuanfan-sprouts-3-inch-horn-from-head/?test=latestnews
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/11/birds-fall-from-sky-california_n_807330.html
Thanks to reputable new sources such as AOL News’ “Weird News” feature, entertainment is only a click away. Please enjoy the following doses of unbelievable, disgusting, and bewildering news brought to my attention by my husband:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-12160874
http://www.aolnews.com/2011/01/10/chinas-huang-yuanfan-sprouts-3-inch-horn-from-head/?test=latestnews
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/11/birds-fall-from-sky-california_n_807330.html
1.10.2011
Questions for 2011
At some point in college, I rediscovered the four types of sentences that we all learned in elementary school. Don't you love it when you remember something like that? The "Aha!" moment is like catching a fly midair with lightning-fast reflexes. Victory. Immediately, you realize that the "Aha!" feeling is innappropriate as most of the population is well aware of whatever revelation you just identified.
So these four types of sentences used to describe our speech are nothing new, nothing groundbreaking. But, in considering these strict categories for all verbal human communication, I discovered the magic of the interrogative sentence. It's both the key to true communication and the catalyst to learning. It spurs conversation and inquiry and can be used to forge authentic relationships or ravenous rifts in them. It's the sharpest kind of sentence, like that unique student in a teacher's classroom bursting with undeveloped potential.
In lieu of resolutions for 2011, I'm hanging on the coattails of this interrogative sentence idea. I've given up on what I will do, because when doing is the focus, I will inevitably fail.
Instead, I will ask, seek, poke, prod, and question this year in hopes of putting myself before an omnipotent God with all the answers, but more importantly, who meets me in my questions. Resolving to do depicts my haughty independence one minute and my devotion the next. Committing to ask, however, keeps me child-like and directed toward the one who answers.
So, ten days late already, I'm going to start pondering the questions I need to start asking this year.
Ask, and it will be given you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives. He who seeks finds. To him who knocks it will be opened. Matthew 7
So these four types of sentences used to describe our speech are nothing new, nothing groundbreaking. But, in considering these strict categories for all verbal human communication, I discovered the magic of the interrogative sentence. It's both the key to true communication and the catalyst to learning. It spurs conversation and inquiry and can be used to forge authentic relationships or ravenous rifts in them. It's the sharpest kind of sentence, like that unique student in a teacher's classroom bursting with undeveloped potential.
In lieu of resolutions for 2011, I'm hanging on the coattails of this interrogative sentence idea. I've given up on what I will do, because when doing is the focus, I will inevitably fail.
Instead, I will ask, seek, poke, prod, and question this year in hopes of putting myself before an omnipotent God with all the answers, but more importantly, who meets me in my questions. Resolving to do depicts my haughty independence one minute and my devotion the next. Committing to ask, however, keeps me child-like and directed toward the one who answers.
So, ten days late already, I'm going to start pondering the questions I need to start asking this year.
Ask, and it will be given you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives. He who seeks finds. To him who knocks it will be opened. Matthew 7
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