May Review

I committed to reporting out on my progress of 3 major goals for 2013 at the end of every month. Here are my stats for May:

Goal 1: Read 25 books.
Two books down in May. I'm at 11 for the year. The Chronicles of Narnia series continues to enchant me. C.S. Lewis is one smart dude (see more of his wisdom in this month's quotes).

Goal 2: Write 75 blog posts.
This is post #7 for the month. I'm now at 34 for the year. My favorite is probably the first for the month, "My Fears, My Fight." I've got ideas written down for 3-4 more that I thought might get written this month, but it just didn't happen. It's been too nice outside, with too many good people to see on weekends. No regrets. Those posts will get written in June.

Goal 3: Write 25 letters.
I wrote 2 more, albeit both in the last week of the month. I am most thankful for the pressure of this goal, as I clearly wouldn't do it if I didn't feel the pressure to stay on pace each month. The sense of urgency usually gets me going, and each letter produces a great personal reward. I hope the same is true for those receiving the letters. Nine down for 2013.

Reflections:
The month began with some occupational uncertainty that has all been firmed up since then. I'm thankful for the opportunity to process some thinking on a difficult situation, which is never really relevant until one finds themself in a tenuous position. Despite a fairly busy month, I plugged along on my goals. It certainly wasn't my best reading or writing month, but I stayed on track.

Memorable Quotes from the Month:

• "God cannot give us happiness and peace apart from himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing." - C.S. Lewis
• "There is no better test of growth than that a man desires God because he is God." - Martyn Lloyd-Jones
• "The mark of Friendship is not that help will be given when the pinch comes (of course it will) but that, having been given, it makes no difference at all." - C.S. Lewis
• "Writing became the lever of my thinking and the outlet of my feelings. If I didn't pull the lever, the wheel of thinking did not turn. It jerked and squeaked and halted. But once a pen was in hand, or a keyboard, the fog began to clear and the wheel of thought began to spin with clarity and insight." - John Piper
• "I think each village was meant to feel pity for its own sick and poor whom it can help and I doubt if it is the duty of any private person to fix his mind on ills which he cannot help. This may even become an escape from teh works of charity we really can do to those we know. God may call any one of us to repsond to some far away problem or support those who have been so called. But we are finite and he will not call us everywhere or to support every worthy cause. And real needs are not far from us." - C.S. Lewis
• "It's not mutually exclusive to be confident and humble; to be skeptical and eager to learn." - Jon Lovett

Interesting links:

• How to Pick a Fight and Do Something that Matters
• Tragic Worship
• Words for Writers and Readers

June will be busy, but different busy. Umpiring, basketball camp, and AP training are all on the docket. It's going to be a good month.

Plans are the Future, Adversity is Today

As I said a couple of posts ago, the plans that you have say a great deal about you. They speak of the ideal "you," the "you" that you want to be in the future, the "you" that you desire and are steering your ship towards. To know that about yourself and about those important to you is to know much. It isn't the entire picture, however.

If you want to know who you are right now instead of where you are headed, watch how you react to unexpected adversity. What do you do when the car breaks down? When your kids throw a tantrum in public? When it rains on all your Memorial Day weekend plans? When your boss tells you no? When your family member disappoints you? There's no time in those circumstances to adjust to the perfect vision of "you," to what you view as an acceptable response on which to judge you; generally, the reaction is a bright spotlight directly into the soul.

Your actions in those instances speak to what you believe in. They reveal the strength or weakness of your faith, how central you see yourself in the grand scheme of the world, and the worth you ascribe to those around you. Do you demand comfort? Are you entitled or determined? Are you a victim or a battler? Are you servant-hearted or demanding servants? Is your perspective immediate or eternal?

The Psalms are full of David's response to unexpected adversity and reveal why he is called a "man after God's own heart." In the midst of great trials, he has this to say:

"My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast;
I will sing and give praise." (57:7)

"From the end of the earth I will cry to you, 
When my heart is overwhelmed;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (61:2)

"He only is my rock and my salvation;
He is my defense;
I shall not be greatly moved." (62:2)

"I shall not be greatly moved," says David. God is God, and I am me. Knowing that, he is ready for the worst, for he will not be "moved" from that faith.

Plans are great. Plans are essential. But plans allow for the best of you. They assume a "best-case scenario." Unexpected adversity allows for no such luxury. Absent of a plan, it reveals exactly who and what you are - today.

If you're anything like me, it's a reminder of just how far I have to go to reach the "me" in those pie-in-the-sky visions for the future.

Big Plans, Big Actions

Got big plans? Ready to begin a long, challenging, risky, and commitment-filled dream? John Steinbeck has some advice for you.

In my last post, I discussed Steinbeck's words what our plans say about us from the book Journey of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters. The novel East of Eden was Steinbeck's masterpiece, and he knew it from the start. Wrote Steinbeck, as he began the process of writing this novel, "For this is the book I have always wanted and have worked and prayed to be able to write. We shall see whether I am capable. . . I have written each book as an exercise, as practice for the one to come. And this is the one to come. There is nothing beyond this book - nothing follows it. It must contain all in the world I know and it must have everything in it of which I am capable. . ."

This collection of letters explores his thoughts and feelings on a daily basis as he went through the almost year-long process, with everything on the line. He wasn't merely hoping for this to be great - he was stating that it would be. It was fascinating to be allowed into the mind of a great writer on a daily basis as he wrote his great book. As you work on your masterpiece, whether you're at the beginning of the journey or near the end, Steinbeck's letters provide several lessons for handling your long-term plans.

1. Start! At some point you've simply got to quit planning and get into the game. "I suffer as always from the fear of putting down the first line."

2. Make your masterpiece something you love, and take your time about it. "I know this is going very slowly but I want it that way. I don't want to rush. I am enjoying this work and I truly want it to be the best I have ever done." Whatever you're dreaming, make it something worth spending your days on. The accomplishment at the end will not be enough. You will want to look back upon the labor as the best part of your plan. "I don't care how long it takes me to make it . . . You can't train for something all your life and then have it fall short because you are hurrying to get it finished."

3. Expect to get tired at some point of toiling daily. Plan on it. Have a strategy for when that happens. "And you know of course that many times before I finish this book I shall hate it with a deadly hatred. I shall detest the day when I started it."

4. Obstacles will present themselves. Distractions will come. You will require rest. "I'm getting a fixation about not missing days even though I know I will miss many before this book is done. I just must expect that.  But every day I don't miss is a help and a treasure." Value those days that you do get to work on your masterpiece, because very few people in the world are as lucky as you, actively and purposefully at the tool bench of their life's work.

5. Your feelings and fatigue do not change the value of your masterpiece. "A good morning. It is I who am not good. I am sluggish." Your energy and passion will ebb and flow. The importance of chasing these grand plans will not. Do not allow your weaknesses to win. "My brain just doesn't want to tackle it today and if I let it get away with it, tomorrow it will have another excuse. My brain is very treacherous and I do not dare to give it any freedom to wander."

Keep these ideas in mind as you venture into long-term plans. Your plans say something about who you are. Wisely advancing towards those plans says a lot about how you'll finish those plans. Dream big, then act big as well by looking to the process of one of America's great authors.

If You Really Want to Know a Person. . .

So, what are your plans?

It's a simple, common question. We ask it about the weekend, about the summer, and about careers. We ask it about relationships, about gardening, about workouts, and about parenting. We ask it while staring at the menu in a restaurant with friends. What's your plan?

It's a simple, common question, but make no mistake - it is no throw-away question. It is not there to pass the time or create banter. If you ask it, listen. Really listen. If you do, you'll discover much about the one asked. If it's you who's asked, make it count. Answer wisely.

I recently finished reading John Steinbeck's Journal of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters. While writing his masterpiece (his words, and mine as well) novel East of Eden, he warmed up to his writing each day by writing a letter to his friend. Most days he wrote about the book, about his own life, and whatever thoughts he had about people and life and living. It's full of great stuff. One quote that stood out to me is this:

"I am going to set down Adam's [a major character] plans for his life. The fact that he isn't going to get even one of them is no emphasis whatever. Plans are real things and not experience. A rich life is rich in plans. If they don't come off, they are still a little bit realized. . . I believe too that if you can't know a man's plans, you know more about him than you can in any other way. Plans are daydreaming and this is an absolute measure of a man."

And I find great truth here. My wife's plans for the garden this year say something about her. When my dad talks about his next building plans in his wood shop, he speaks of something real and living inside him. My family's vacation plans I believe said a lot about our priorities this Spring Break. If you're planning a 5k, a 401k, or to simply be okay tomorrow, those plans speak volumes about you, whether they come to fruition or not.

This is the season for plans. High school and college graduates all over are making plans and are being asked about them. Graduates - don't take this lightly. If you feel pressure, you should. These plans matter. They say something about you, whether you go all the way through with them or not. Are you planning big, or comfortably? Are your plans for you, or you +1? Do your plans address your passions or your necessities? Do you want play or get paid? Or both?

So what are my plans? I plan to get more core strength so as not to hurt my back as often. I plan to get on RABGRAI this summer with a good friend of mine for a couple of days. I plan to coach basketball for at least one more year. I plan to read, pray, write, and work in my yard tomorrow on my day off. I plan to host many friends at our house this summer. I plan to teach high school English as long as I believe in it, and I plan to leave when my worldview is no longer welcome. I plan to write a book. And then ten more. I plan to teach my kids about basketball, books, and playing the piano. I plan to write 3 letters this month and mail them in a timely fashion. I plan to eat birthday cake this weekend. I plan to love my wife as well as I know how for the rest of my life.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord." Yes, that's true. But that does not absolve us from making passionate, prayerful plans ourselves. And while you're at it, ask the people important to you what their plans are as well.

Motherhood 101: Honesty and Enthusiasm

When we were on vacation this spring and letting the girls pick out a "special toy" at Target to appease their frustrations from promised swimming adventures unfulfilled, I struggled to give up control to Elise, my 5-year old. I tried to point out a few things that I knew she would like, would be usable in the car for our road trip, and would hold her interest for longer than 5 minutes. She pointed out other things that definitely did not, in my opinion, hold true to those standards. "Are you sure, Elise?" I found myself asking. "But what about ____________" as I filled in the blank with whatever perceived obstacles I felt her choice presented. Ultimately, I sighed loudly and begrudgingly gave in to her choice. I was not excited about it, though, and that's where I have room to grow. That's where I fall far short of my mother.

Once upon a time a skinny, undersized, talent-less, mouthy 14-year old wanted to play high school football. His mother thought that was a bad idea and told him so. She even bribed him with money to avoid the inevitable fate of death without quarter awaiting the young man at the hands of upperclassmen. The boy stood by his choice, however, despite the mother's advice. She let him, and then she spent the next 4 years cheering for him and his team in victory and defeat, health and injury, success and failure.

I know there have been many choices in my life for which she had to cede control to me and I didn't choose the path she probably thought best. Every time that's come up, she's followed a consistent pattern that provides a model for me: she provided honest feedback, she released control, and she got behind the decision with enthusiasm.

When I told her I was getting married while in college, I'm pretty sure she thought it was a bit young to be making that choice. She let me make it, though, and has cheered and supported our marriage ever since. I also decided that, despite my Christian Reformed (and therefore infant-baptism championing) background, I needed and wanted to be baptized as an adult. Whether she understood why I was rejecting that part of my background or not, she celebrated that with me as well. When I called and told her Emily and I had decided to move out to western Nebraska after college, I know she would have preferred a destination much closer to home. Rather than complain, she helped pack, helped move, and made many visits to cheer on the Sailor girls basketball program.

Regardless of the scenario, she has given me honest feedback, let me make my choice, and then gotten excited about it. I've followed the advice many, many times. I've gone my own way on others. Every time, though, I know that I can count on Mom to be honest and then be in my corner. It's what she does.

Now I'm 33. I need the feedback and the excitement just as much now as ever. It's why when I'm coaching in a gym in Des Moines on a Friday night, she and Dad are there to get excited about my players. It's why she's so good to the assorted people I've become friends with over the past many years, caring for them and being excited for them because that's what I care for and get excited about. It's why when I told her Emily and I were going to foxtrot in front of 300 people, she gave me feedback ("You're crazy") and her enthusiasm by showing up to watch.

My daughters aren't always going to go the way I think they should. Just like their daddy long before them. I hope they have a good father to do what my good mother has always done.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. And thanks for always getting behind me.

Free Will is Harder Than It Sounds

As I indicated in my last post, uncertainty and change for me brings fear. The fear usually comes because uncertainty and change often offer a choice. Having choices can be good, but more often than not I'd prefer that choices just left me alone. Choices invade my comfortable existence, my steady day to day, and offer me either "this," or "that," or perhaps even another "this'; but the known is no longer one of the options.

I'm paralyzed in fear at these times because I don't want to screw up. As long as the choices don't exist, I know I'm doing the right thing. Offer options, though, and all of a sudden "two roads diverged in a yellow wood," and my choice will make all the difference ages and ages hence.

As many Christians are fond of saying, it is at this point that I begin "seeking God's will for me" and "His guidance." I "wait patiently for the Lord" and submit to "His timing." This is all well and good, when it's real. But sometimes those phrases are gigantic cop-outs that allow me to put off taking action. When used poorly, they can be fake faith - a faith that needs no God to rely on.

Of course the engraved invitation from God would be great, a postcard in the mail or a text message sent randomly with God's preferred action for my life falling gently into my lap to lead me danger-free through tulips and puppies and rainbows into the life of my dreams. I've sought that message many times through prayer.

My thinking has changed a bit on this, though. I think instead of God wanting to make our lives easier by providing direct answers, God would prefer that we trust that He is enough regardless of the path that we take. An easy life where we're sure of the path in front of us requires little faith or daily connection to The Almighty. As much pressure as I can put on myself to make the right choices for me and my family, that pressure reflects a faith only in my decision-making, not on His all-sustaining nature whether I choose wisely or not. It shows I assume control, which is folly.

As my thoughts on this post have taken shape over the past week, two blogs I follow have had some timely words that I share here. The first if from the Storyline blog: 
"Whatever it is, at times it seems overwhelming and impossible to change. In these situations the problem is often that we have come to prefer the familiar over the unfamiliar. In other words, we exchange what we desperately need, for the secure feeling of being in control. Just like Adam and Eve, deep down you and I prefer independence, with its loneliness, over the love and fulfillment of absolute dependence on God. 

"Fear often clouds our thinking into trying the same things over and over. Usually it takes the failure of all we know to ease great pain, before clarity comes. Loss of what is familiar, even against our will, brings us to surrender . . . surrender to a God who wants to give us more than we can ask or dream."

The other is from Justin Taylor's blog: "We do well to seek advice. This is wisdom. But there's something to being at your wits' end that begs for more than instruction. Psalm 107 illustrates a season in the storm. Men in ships doing business on great waters are literally struck by a tempest. Scripture says, 'They reeled and staggered like drunken men and were at their wits' end' (v. 27). Their response to being completely helpless was to cry out to the Lord. No how-tos, no cute preservers, but just an honest and urgent pleas to be delivered from a situation that was more than they could navigate."

Fear is a natural response to choices. But lasting fear, and paralyzing fear, indicate a desire to rest in a spot that has no faith. Instead of worrying about which choice is best, choose faith.

My Fears, My Fight

Two things I don't do well are change and uncertainty. I'm scared to death of both. Uncertainty keeps me up at night, wildly wondering the next course of events, turning scenario after scenario over in my brain as I attempt to will the unpredictable path in my favor through feats of logical strength to no one listening at all. Uncertainty leads to change. When I've got a good thing going, I view change not in what possibilities of unseen joy may exist, but in what I currently see that I know will be a loss. I don't gamble well or often, with blackjack or my life, because of my abhorrence of external events beyond my control.

I face both uncertainty and change and all that goes with them in the next few weeks.

I entered this challenge with my requisite hand-wringing and anxiety-laden diatribes. I continue to foster some of that, but I find myself at a certain sense of peace this week. While sitting in church on Sunday, I strung together a list of succeeding ideas that brought with it a sense of settling. I wrote them down one by one, just like they came to me:

1. I will be just fine. Whatever happens, I'll be fine.
2. I might be better off. I might not.
3. Regardless, God is still God. I am not and never have been.
4. I will rest in that fact, pain or no pain, comfort or no comfort. 
5. My goals, my approach, is what I have control over. 
6. I must submit and serve. Teach and connect.
7. Whenever, wherever, however.

And that's where I'm at. That's where I can stand today, uncertainty and change be damned. This is not apathy or inaction. There is fight in me, and I will battle for what I believe to be right and good. This is how I fight wisely and well.

I still wake up from time to time, frustrated, disbelieving, self-pitying. I still wish I had control.

But I know that I will be fine. Whenever, wherever, however, and everything in between.