Anniversary

My blog turned one year old this week. It's tough to notice - this is one of the priorities in my life that has been on the backburner for much of the summer. I've written only about once every other week. But it does call for some reflection.

The biggest thing I can say is that I started with a goal - a worthy goal - of seeing daily events (of the world, of my life, in what I read) through a biblical worldview. I titled the blog "Prone to Wander" after the lyrics in the hymn "Come Thou Fount" because I felt I was prone to wander away from this. One year later, I think I might be worse at this. I have wandered greatly lately; and just as all the other times I've wandered, I haven't come out better for it.

I began the digging out process tonight, the "training" if you will to "work the fat off of the soul" (Hemingway quote). I opened my Bible for the first time in about a month and a half. While reading I realized just how stupid I've been during one of the most highly-stressed summers of my life.

Here's why I've been stupid: I tried to do this thing alone. The fact that the stress I put on myself due to my insane schedule was self-inflicted led me to carry the burden mentally alone. My wife helped me out a tremendous amount, but I tried not to burden her with the toll this was taking on my sanity. Mostly I felt guilty for putting her in a position where she was busier because I was busier. My family, especially my and Emily's parents, provided a tremendous amount of help as well. Again, though, I almost felt guilty every time I had to ask for that help. I felt like the guy who took on too much, so much that he had to find others to help him run his family. More guilt. More emotional burden. And the more there was, the more I tried to fight it alone.

I tried to fight it alone because my worldview sucked, because I had been wandering. I may write more about this summer and what I've learned, and I might not; but one incontrovertible fact is that I did next to nothing to maintain my relationship with Christ. If I had, I would have realized that I shouldn't be doing anything alone, no matter how worthy a goal or how much guilt I had assigned to it. Tonight I read about Christ as he's going to the death. In some of his final words to his disciples before he is crucified, he tells them, "Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full." Later, he leads by example: he prays for himself. He asks for help. He is not in it alone.

I'm an idiot.

Year 2 begins with the same goals. I've enjoyed the commentary shared here, and this blog writing has been a very important part of my life over the last year. I enter year 2 with more knowledge, with more flaws, and with more followers than what I started with to hopefully push the conversation.

I pray that none of us be alone.

The Risk of Relationships

I had to read John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men for grad school this week. I've become a big Steinbeck fan over the past few years because I really think he gets it - he portrays human nature very well. One of the aspects of humanity he describes especially well in this book is the reality of relationships.

Most of the characters in the book are very independent. They rely on themselves and don't owe anything to anybody. The two main characters though, George and Lennie, have decided to travel around together. They have taken responsibility for each other. It becomes very clear early in the novel in the passage below that George resents this responsibility at times:

"God a'mighty, if I was alone I could live so easy. I could go get a job an' work, an' no trouble. No mess at all, and when the end of the month come I could take my fifty bucks and go into town and get whatever I want. Why, I could stay in a cat house all night. I could eat any place I want, hotel or any place, and order any damn thing I could think of. An I could do all that every damn month. . . An' whatta I got, I got you!"

Here's the first thing that came to my head when I read those early pages: What parent hasn't had similar thoughts about the freedom available to them before they had children? What spouse hasn't thought about that when they want to do something or buy something or schedule something but then must check first? Wouldn't life be so much easier?

This is a natural feeling. Yet George remains with Lennie, and I haven't left my wife or my children. Why? Because relationships are worth it. There is a great cost to them - you give up some personal freedom and you suddenly find yourself in some way responsible for someone else's happiness. However, you have someone to give a "hoot in hell" about you, as the characters in the text say. George understands this, and it's part of his grand romantic picture of the American Dream for him and Lennie that drives them throughout the text. The good relationships are worth the cost. The other workers are described as "the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don't belong no place. . . They ain't got nothing to look ahead to."
Those characters avoid relationships because of the cost and the risk involved. They don't want to hurt. The only women they chase are whores, because the only thing required of them is money. They engage in casual conversations and horseshoe tournaments with the other workers because it passes the time, and it's tough for a friend to let you down if all you're doing is playing horseshoes. They'll never know the value of great companionship, but they'll never have to know the hurt of disappointment either.

I teach my students that risk = reward. It's true of goals, and it's true of relationships. You can only win big if you're willing to lose big. If you only bet/risk a little, you can only gain a little.

To me, this is human nature right here. It's as real as it gets. Everyone must decide - is this relationship worth the risk? Do I risk my time, my personal freedom, my emotions, and my dreams on this person hoping that the relationship pays off? Or do I remain aloof and never get too close to family, friends, a spouse? Do I never have children? All to avoid the possibility of risk? I think this is universally true of every relationship - sibling, parental, romantic, friend. I'm sure all of us have been burned - been hurt by those we allowed to get close to us. And I hope we all have seen situations where the risk is worth it.

When I thought about this today, I realized that this is probably a big part of the reason many people aren't chasing down a relationship with Christ. There's risk involved. I'm sure the diehard, life-long Christians out there might be thinking, "Risk? What risk?" Oh, there's definitely risk. Am I willing to risk changing my priorities and my actions for this relationship? What if the reward is fake, isn't real (and there are plenty of voices out there sending that mesage)? What if all the time I put into prayer or Bible reading doesn't produce results? What if Christ lets me down?

The reward can only be great to those who risk greatly. But we shouldn't be shocked: Christ advertised as much - "For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel's will save it." (Mark 8:35)