Doing Great Things

I turned 30 this weekend. As a friend of mine said, you never really think you'll be 30 until you are. Well, here I am.

I always intended to reflect a bit about what I've done over 30 years, especially the last ten or so years that I've had some freedom. I haven't really done that - the closest I've come is resolving to join Facebook in the near future so I can join the rest of the world. I'm still holding strong, however, on my resolve to avoid a cell phone plan.

A great fear of mine has always been that of being inconsequential, of being ordinary. I hate to say it because it sounds so self-centered, but I think I have to add to that list a fear of being forgotten. I want what I do to matter, to be able to say I took what I've been given and accomplished great things. On responsible days, I want to do great things for God. On most days, I want to do great things for me and say they are for God. On bad days I just want to feed my ego.

It's that desire to do big things for God that came up in my mind while I was reading some of Oswald Chambers' writing tonight, and something caught my eye. The following quote speaks volumes:

"Walking on the water is easy. . ., but walking on dry land as a disciple of Jesus Christ is a different thing. Peter walked on the water to go to Jesus, but he followed Him afar off on the land. We do not need the grace of God to stand crises. . . but it does require the supernatural grace of God to live twenty-four hours in every day as a saint, to go through drudgery as a disciple, to live an ordinary, unobserved, ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus. It is inbred in us that we have to do exceptional things for God; but we have not. We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things, to be holy in the mean streets, among mean people, and this is not learned in five minutes."

I've always listed Peter as one of the 3 people from history that I'd love to speak with. My primary reason is that he walked on water. I'd love to know what that was like, to know how he mustered the faith, to know what he was thinking. But it's clear that isn't the story. The questions I should be asking should be about what it was liking walking next to Christ on a daily basis.

I don't know if I've accomplished a whole lot in my first 30 years, and I don't know what I'll accomplish in the next 30 (if I get them). I'll let God be the judge of that. I am beginning to realize, though, the value of being extraordinary in the mundane. And just how much prayer it will require to be a twenty-four hour a day saint.

On a More Serious Note. . .

Praise God from whom all blessings flow:

Leah Grace Dykstra was born Sunday night at 8:20. My wife is healthy, and so is Leah. My oldest daughter (that feels weird to say) approves, and my yellow lab has thoroughly sniffed her over and decided she can stay.

I am indeed blessed.

A Day of Thanksgiving

Praise God from whom all blessings flow:

UNI 69
Kansas 67

I know this is a bit irreverent for this blog, but I just can't help myself. Last time this happened - Oh wait, it never has.

Go Panthers.

Proud to be an American?

My current grad class is about teaching refugee and immigrant students. For it I read the book Middle of Everywhere by Mary Pipher, a good book on the refugee experience of adjusting to life in America.

I want to start this post by saying that I love America. We have a great country; and though I have little travel experience, from what I've read this year, I feel lucky to have grown up here. That said, I am scared to death of my daughter growing up in American culture.

In my notes for this book, I collected a list of what refugees had to say about America. These people are all grateful for the opportunities provided for them here, but they did make several observations. Some of them:

• "Americans think it is a sin to do nothing." (74)
• "I have learned that when an American looks at his watch, it means I am taking too much of his time. I had better leave quickly." (74)
• "Americans invented stress. And with globalization, stress will soon be all over the world." (75)
• from the TV: America is obsessed with violence, sex, consumption, money, and power (86)
• a Vietnamese teen felt sorry for white teens: "They are really unlucky. They have no real culture. They go around trying to steal other people's groups - blacks, Asians, just so they can find some identity." (168-9)
• With acculturation, the well-being of refugee students actually decreases. The longer kids are in America, the less time they spend on homework and the more likely they are to be sexually active. (172)
• "The American educational system is designed to make students stop thinking."
• amazed at how disrespectful American students were - talking to their friends in class, mouthing off, sleeping, kissing in the halls, or shouting "F*** you."
• "American teens are always talking about sex and alcohol."
• "American kids brag about getting drunk. In my country, alcohol was no big deal. Here teens are desperate to drink."
• "Some American kids are nice." Response: "They are nice to their friends, but not to their parents."
• people are obsessed with "mine, mine, mine." Huge emphasis on property and individual rights; joked about how Americans worried over who paid what on a restaurant bill (213)
• A comment in response to American women and their dress: "Women are jewels, not toys. They should respect themselves."
• regarding America's high divorce rate: "In Iraq, marriage is a shirt you wear for the rest of your life. If you tear it, you mend it."

There are many glowing pictures of individual American generosity as well. But that is not what stands out about our culture. The book discusses how the biggest challenge for these families is all the cultural shifting they have to do - acting American at appropriate times while also maintaining their own cultural traditions as well. Basically, they try to take the good from each culture; ultimately, however, they've got to learn how to be functional in American society.

Biblically speaking, Christians are refugees in the world, charged with being in the world but not of the world. We must be effective and successful in the world without embracing the culture. This is difficult, and I saw great exmaples of what this looks like when reading about these refugee experiences.

I see my daughter soaking up everything around her now, and a lot of it doesn't come from me or my wife. She picks up so much from our babysitter and her son, from the YMCA classes she takes, and from the books she reads. Most of it is great; but it's become clear she is a sponge. I've found myself muting commercials on the TV when it's on in our house to keep some of those messages from sinking in. She already walks through stores with us saying, "We should buy this, and we should buy this, and we should buy this. . ." Parenting is about to get real difficult (I can hear my mother laughing at me right now).

In one of my favorite movies, Spanglish, a Mexican immigrant mother is talking with an American man about sending her daughter to an American prep school. She says she's afraid because her daughter will either be very different from all the other kids, or become the same as the others. Out of those two choices, the man and the woman decided that it would definitely be better to be different.

I pray that my daughter is different. And I pray that for myself as well.

Another Chance

On Friday afternoon at the end of the school day, I walked into my principal's office to find out just how safe my current job is. I did not walk out with a lot of confidence. As the low man on the totem pole of experience, I knew all year with the talk of budget cuts that the possibility existed that I would be out. I never really thought the chances were great - after all, they cut from our department last year, and we just don't have the people to absorb another cut. I had hoped to walk into my principal's office and hear, "Don't worry." Instead I heard, "We just don't know yet. It wouldn't hurt to apply for other jobs."

This isn't my first time dealing with job uncertainty:
- During both years of teaching and coaching in Nebraska, I dealt with a couple members of the school board (and the superintendent) who were parents of players and wanted me out. I never got an explanation from them, just a lot of backroom attempts to get me out.
- When my last school district decided to join with another, the head coaching position that I assumed was mine was not.
- Last year when the head basketball coaching position at my current school was open, it looked like a sure thing and pure common sense for one of our assistants (and a good friend with whom I would love to coach for years) to get the position. His and my basketball careers would move forward. He did not get the job. I didn't even get an interview. So much for loyalty. It was very difficult for me to sign on for another year of coaching.

All of these situations involved a great deal of deceit. I felt screwed over and lied to each time. And here we are again (though without the deceit, I'll have to admit), in another time of uncertainly.

I'd give myself a C- in terms of how I dealt with these events in the past. I had confidence in each scenario that God was in control, that God would provide, that all would work out well for me and my family. And I was right each time. But I also spent a lot of time letting people know that I felt I was treated unfairly. I complained. A lot. I advertised my rough situation with a "Woe is me!" tone to just about anyone who would listen. And I worried a lot. I've always regretted that. I guess this is my chance to do it right.

I don't know how this is going to turn out. Maybe I'll still have my job. Maybe I'll get another one, whether it's a good fit for me or not. Maybe I'll join 10% of America and be unemployed for a while. The Sovereign God will take care of me. But I must take care to let my actions and especially my words speak of this faith, instead of letting them speak of my anxiety and my sense of being wronged. I'd say this is my second chance to do handle this the right way, but it's more like my 9th or 10th.

Yesterday I read a couple of really applicable statements in the Psalms once again (Ps. 94, emphasis added):
"Blessed is the man whom You instruct, O Lord,
And teach out of Your law,
That You may give him rest from the days of adversity."

"In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul."

If I am to really make a statement of the Lord's goodness to the world and to the amount of joy and satisfaction available in Him, what better way than to exhibit faith and joy and rest and comfort in these days of adversity and in the multitude of anxieties. Most people are happy in times of plenty and comfort. If I remain focused on God instead of my uncertainty, I can have great joy at all times. Anything less is another wasted opportunity.

Don't argue with idiots

In a recent news article, Fox News commentator Glenn Beck has claimed that the Bible says nothing about social justice and any member of a church that teaches it or uses that phrase should leave the church. This led Rev. Jim Wallis, president of Sojourners, a progressive Christian organization, to respond by saying all Christians should boycott Beck's show. Wallis also made an appearance on MSNBC to refute Beck further.

Make no mistake - I think Glenn Beck is an idiot. But he's paid to be an idiot, and paid well. He's a Republican shock jock: he makes bold and often unfounded statements, stirs up fear at every opportunity, and becomes tearful when discussing the loss of traditional America at the hands of the Democrats. This sells. I don't care what political party you embrace; if you can do this well, you will have followers.

Is Beck wrong? Yes. Biblically, we have a great responsibility to the poor. I'm not sure that responsibility involves some of the liberal programs Wallis advocates, but Beck is wrong about Christ's teachings. But that doesn't change the fact that Beck plays an idiot on TV to make money, and Christians, especially leaders of Christian groups, shouldn't argue with idiots.

Boycott Beck? Why? So we can further insulate ourselves into rooms of only people we agree with? I don't see that as an effective strategy for being salt and light in the world. I think Christians, like most people, are in a hurry to avoid anyone with whom we disagree. And that's dangerous. In order to build relationships with people and connect with them, we must understand them. In order to understand ourselves and have any sort of confidence in the beliefs we hold dearly, they must be challenged. And if we seek to change minds about the teachings of Christ, we must know the minds of those we are seeking to change.

This may not be popular with some of my readers, but one of the things I'm most thankful for in my education is that I attended public schools instead of Christian ones. I was daily with a lot of people who thought my beliefs were bunk. Perhaps one of the most critical days for my faith came at UNI, when an atheist professor challenged the beliefs of Christians in a lecture hall. I found the gigantic holes in my faith, realized how much I didn't know, and became dedicated to discovering and embracing truth - not just the traditions in which I had grown up.

When I first read the article, I was irritated with Wallis for the call for boycott. In the interview on MSNBC, he did say what I hoped to hear from him in the beginning: "I'd like to have a conversation with Beck." Conversations, not boycotts, lead to better understanding. However, it was clear as the interview went on that the purpose for the conversation Wallis wanted to have was to prove to Beck that Beck was wrong. His goal was to win an argument. And I think that's a bad motivation.

As a Christian leader, it is Jim Wallis' job to teach about Christ. Wallis can do that without calling for Beck boycotts or challenging him to a debate to prove how right he is. If Wallis is concerned about Beck's soul, he can call him without going on to MSNBC to do it. If he wants to get into a political policy debate with him, then let's leave religion out of that conversation.

Wrong kind of fear

For some reason I woke up early on Saturday morning at about 5:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. Sleep is a precious commodity right now, as I prepare for the arrival of kid #2 and the subsequent months will little rest. Unable to get back to sleep, I made a pot of coffee and decided it was about time I returned to a little Bible reading.

I'm glad I did. It had been at least a good week or two at least since it had been opened. Luckily, next on my reading list was Psalm 91. I had written down Psalm 91 about a year ago the last time it was on my reading list and referred to it as a "Psalm of Success." In my quest to define a successful life that aligns more with God and less with American culture, my reading of the Psalm gave me a perfect definition of what life should be like. I felt like if I could just achieve what the writer was describing in this Psalm, that would be the picture of a successful life.

I wrote the Psalm down and typed it out, but I haven't paid much attention to it since then. Then I stumbled on it yesterday morning once again, and it became real all over again. I did some online reading of commentary on that particular Psalm, and several have referred to it as a song of assurance of God's protection. This makes sense because the result of the faith described in the Psalm is refuge and a lack of fear in life.

This got me thinking about fear. I often let fear dictate my life decisions. There are certain things I am scared to death of. Snakes, for instance. But that's not the kind of fear I'm talking about.

The best example I have is coaching. Ever since I've been out of the position of head coach, I've thought about getting out of the profession for a while. It's a big decision at the end of every year, and every year I get closer to not signing that freshman basketball contract. Ultimately, I think fear has kept me from that. I'm scared to death of not being a coach. That's been a major part of my identity for many years. I'm scared of losing the relationships I have because of coaching. I'm scared of being seen as just another teacher, of how I'd handle a season watching instead of coaching. I'm scared of giving up that part of my life, because that's a part of my life that I know and understand and is predictable (even though much of the "reliable" aspects of the position are ones that I don't like about the job).

Here's what I figured out yesterday morning, though. I'm scared of what a post-basketball identify for myself would be, but I haven't really been scared of what losing my identity as a Christ-follower would be, and I lose parts of that identity every year during the season. I'm scared of harming relationships by getting out of coaching, but I've never been fearful about harming my relationship with God (which occurs every season). I'm scared to lose my job or lose the comfortable life I have, when the only real fear I should have is the fear of losing God, or of wasting the gift of life I've been given by chasing after things that won't satisfy.

Coaching isn't a sin, and I might do it again. But the Bible is full of "Fear not. . ." statements, and Psalm 91 describes a fearless lifestyle driven by faith. And I've been too scared of losing comfort and predictability to go and grab it.