Prone to Wander

The Truth

2012-02-05T21:31:00.002-06:00

After 3 solid weeks of not writing. . . what to say, what to say, what to say? The truth seems appropriate.

1. I haven't written in 3 weeks because I'm in the middle of a lot of basketball games, about 350 pages a week of British Lit for grad school, and a mountain of guilt about not spending much time with any of the people important to me in my life (especially the kids). Basketball is not going well. I'm merely getting by in my grad classes. My kids and wife get my leftover energy. I haven't talked to many friends/family in months. I've been sick. I just didn't have it in me to post insightful commentary in the midst of a life not well-lived.

2. The most uncomfortable place to be when one is not living the life one wants is church. I squirm every Sunday, fidgeting with nervous energy as I face all that I should be doing and want to be doing, but don't do. I think and pray and praise and learn for an hour, all things I love to be doing. And the whole time I know I'm putting a cap on this, that I have only an hour a week for all of this, that I'm committing the folly C.S. Lewis wrote of - making mud pies in a slum when a holiday at the sea is offered. It is the most uncomfortable, yet also the most important place to be. Without it, I might forget all together the offer of the holiday.

3. Losing is not fun. Ever. I've seen a lot of losses this month. No blame - just a really tough stretch. Is it foolish that I feel like basketball is the one commitment I have that I can experience victory in right now, and it's the commitment in which I have the least control?

4. I am what I hate - a survivor. I fully intend to simply survive the next 5 months. I am a person who is saying that I'll do this or be that or gain happiness when . . . Fill in the blank. For me, it's July. Graduate at the end of June. July = peace, if I'll allow it for myself. Till then, I survive. This is not how I drew it up, but I can't quit now. In 5 months I start to live again. In 5 months I start attempting to resurrect all the relationships I've neglected. Until then, well, Charlotte Bronte and Charles Dickens are my closest companions.

5. Coaching is still fun. Studying is still fun. Teaching is still fun. Right now, though, I'm tired.

6. When I'm not writing, I'm not thinking. When I'm not thinking, I'm not living. I haven't written in 3 weeks. And I barely remember any of those 21 days.

7. Yesterday I spent the day with my folks, my wife, and my kids (and a little with Jane Eyre). It was a good day.

8. In 36 days I depart with my wife on a cruise to celebrate 10 years of marriage. For five days, to hell with British Lit and checking papers.

With 30 spare minutes and a desire to post, I didn't know what else to write other than the truth. Sometimes truth is more than fact (I have a million blessings); it's also fatigue and emotions (see above). Hope it's not as whiny as I fear it to be. It's not pretty, but it's real. Thanks for listening.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

2012-01-16T20:38:00.001-06:00

My last post established that conflict is everywhere and unavoidable. In light of that, I’d like to devote a couple of posts to commentary on conflict. Today I’d like to look at what I see is the biggest root of conflict: desire.

Ultimately, conflict arises because there is a discrepancy between desire and reality. If I am entering conflict with somebody else, it is because either my desires or their desires are not matching up with reality, and the other person is to blame. I desire silence and my kid starts screaming - conflict. I desire to use the copy machine, but it’s broke; and the person who broke it left it for me to deal with - conflict. I desire not to see the underpants of 17 year old boys, but they feel fashion dictates for them to wear their jeans down around their thighs - conflict. It’s all a matter of desire; if my desires aren’t met or I’m not meeting the expectations of others’ desired realities, there will be a battle. After all, conflict is inevitable.

As I said in my last post, some of these desires are worth fighting for. I want my classroom silent during worktime, and I’ll engage in conflict with anyone trying to disrupt that. I want my daughters to obey and respect their parents. I want Netflix to leave my movie rental plan alone. These are not unreasonable desires.

However, I think knowing that conflict is inevitable provides us an opportunity to examine our desires and see if they’re worthy. What that I desire is worth fighting for? What is worth the conflict? And what would be nice, but I could live without? I know that I have many desires. I’m human. I’m sure you do too. Do I really need to go to battle for all of them? Am I really entitled to all of my wants?

For Christians, the question is simplified even more: Is what I desire going to ultimately bring me more comfort, or more glory for God? I think a lot of desires fall into one of those two categories, and I’m not sure there’s a lot of gray in between. If the answer is comfort for self, it’s probably not worth the potential damage to relationships to fight for it. If the answer is for the glory of God, then we should relax and approach it calmly anyway: He is in complete control, and we are His servants.

When conflict arises today, ask yourself what you really want. Let the answer guide the conflict from there.

Conflict is Coming

2012-01-15T19:55:00.003-06:00

Somewhere along the line of human history, people in general have come to fear conflict. It's awkward, and we tend to avoid it if possible; and that seemed to make perfect sense to me until recently. My pastor noted something interesting in a sermon a few weeks back that stuck with me:

"This side of heaven, there will always be conflicts."

He's right, and that thought has stayed with me for a while. Humanity is fallen and selfish; the world is not a perfect place. Therefore, conflict will, and must occur. It's a fact of life. What's so striking about this is how shocked and frustrated I (and I assume most others) get when conflict pops up.

If I really think about it, I probably haven't encountered a conflict free day at school in a long, long time. I work with people, so it's inevitable. I am routinely in conflict with students, staff, parents, administration, or our "technology"; more often than not, it's some combination of all of it. Yet every time I get edgy or indignant. My sarcasm rises, and I seek out people to tell me that I'm right. Most ridiculously, I feel shocked that someone would dare come into conflict with me.

Recognizing the truth that conflict is inevitable on this side of heaven pushes me to be ready for conflict and not react poorly. Instead of responding with righteous indignation, a battle-plan for victory, witty retorts, or back-handed commentary, I could just seek reconciliation. I imagine that would be much more productive than running around screaming, "You're not going to believe what _____________ just said. . ."

By saying reconciliation, I'm not advocating just laying down and letting people walk all over me. There are many ideas, causes, and situations worth fighting for. Reconciliation isn't avoidance, and it's not becoming a doormat. No, some conflict is definitely worth engaging in.

All I'm saying is that some ways of entering into conflict are more effective than others. Shock is certainly not one of the effective ways. Instead, preparation, expectation, and direct discussion with the source all provide a better chance at ending (instead of avoiding) that conflict.

Someone is going to make both you and I angry tomorrow. Maybe even before that first cup of coffee. Let's be ready.

Change Theory

2012-01-02T14:29:00.003-06:00

Change is hard.

In my yearly time of reflection afforded me by my two week break from teaching, I've once again been trying to consider what to change. I want to live on purpose, to take account of what is going well and what isn't, to actively pursue excellence in my experiences rather than rest on the laurels of the status quo. I am not living perfectly, or even at times competently; and these two weeks always give me a chance to stop checking papers, stop watching game film, stop writing grad papers, and decide on a game plan for the next few months.

The question I must answer is whether or not there can be a change to the game plan. You change strategy when you want a different result. Do I want a different result? I ask this because I am realizing more and more that change always costs something. My life and my time are full. All of ours is. We all spend our time and energy on something, filling our days with whatever we choose to fill them with. That might be video games, mission trips, Facebook, movies, yoga, work, or some complex combination of it all. If my goal for change is to be better at video games, I can't just spend more time on that. I've got to spend less time on something, perhaps yoga, in order to invest the time in video games. There is a cost.

To put it in basketball terms, when we put together a game plan, we cannot have it all. We cannot score all our points on the perimeter and all our points in the post. We cannot focus all our practice time on offense and all of defense. We can't double team every player on the other team. We have to choose. What are we willing to give up in order to get what we most want? What balance do we require in order to give ourselves the best chance to win?

That's where I'm at right now. I want live better at certain aspects of my life than I am right now. What am I willing to give up, though? What do I value with my time now that I can afford to sacrifice? I don't have a good answer. The danger with changing because it's a new year and it's time to change is not taking into account the costs or what will be sacrificed. If I dive headlong into the proposed changes, it might cost me something that brings me great joy now. Therefore, part of the consideration for change has to be, "What have I been doing well? What actions or priorities am I absolutely unwilling to part with?"

This year I hope for positive change, for all of you and for myself as well. May we all be wise in our game-planning.

Bonus Day

2011-12-28T20:26:00.001-06:00

My wife and I officially dubbed December 23 this year, “Bonus Day.” Often we don’t get off of work for Christmas break until the 23rd, making our Christmas stay with my family a mad dash of present opening and event hopping. We arrive, have to rush to fit everything in, then rush to leave to go see her family and rush through it all once again. This year, however, our last day of work was the 22nd. We were able to take the 23rd and simply relax at my parents house: no agenda, no schedule, no gifts to open. It was magnificent. I loved Bonus Day.

We got a Bonus Day at Emily’s family’s house as well on December 26. We opened presents on the evening of the 25th, but the 26th had no schedule at all. It was another great day.

My two Bonus Days got me thinking about how and why humans gather with the people they love. Usually, especially with the distance between families and friends in today’s culture, a special occasion is required for people to get together. An event needs to be planned, like a wedding, a funeral, or Christmas present opening. These are incidents that we make priorities, and we should. They are celebration-worthy.

However, I don’t think we have enough bonus days. We need to make more room for them, make them priorities, find ways to gather with absolutely nothing on the agenda. Weddings are busy - so often the bride and groom and their families lament that they wish they had been able to talk to more people there. Christmas can be hectic, especially when trying to make room for present-opening, church services, and other traditions that are important but fill the schedule.

Essentially what I’m trying to get at here is that I’ll probably have way more memories from my two Bonus Days this year than I will from the actual Christmas events. I’ll remember a spirited game of Wii bowling, my 4-year old leading an exercise workout for all of us requiring invisible kettlebells, and competing to see who could get Jeopardy answers out before the others in the room. I’ll remember the multi-category cooking contest put on by my wife’s family, listening to my daughter laugh while throwing rocks into the river to break the ice, and the random conversations with a family friend around the table. All of these things were possible only on Bonus Day, on unscheduled, uneventful, unplanned time together.

On Friday night several good friends will be staying with Emily and I for one more Bonus Day. The only thing on the schedule is dinner at 8. For the rest, we’ll see where the wine and the conversation takes us.

I love Bonus Day.

How?

2011-12-27T21:39:00.002-06:00

Watching the news, following politics, or just watching ordinary people and their actions, it's difficult to avoid the question of how? How will our weak-minded excuse of a Congress ever get anything done? How will the economy ever recover? How will I get disinterested teenagers to care about their education? How can I send my daughters out into the world and hope for the best? How will the college football world ever fix the BCS bowl mess?

Okay, some of these questions are more important than others, but it's tough to have hope for whatever one wants to hope in without seeing how something might be done. It's easier and more logical to be cynical. I have relationships in my life that I'd like to be better, but I can't see how that will ever be possible. I love to dream big with my life, but some of my dreams come with no "how" map. I want to believe that the public school system will be better, that our government will be better, and that small towns and small schools in Iowa have a bright and growing future. I just don't see how. Without the "how," there's no real hope.

I've lost hope in a lot, and I don't believe unreasonably so. Facts are facts: it does no good to delude myself into embracing impossible utopias in the name of being a "positive person." It's important to keep searching for "how's" with the really important stuff - curing cancer, overcoming hunger, that sort of thing - even when the answer is so hard to come by. But sometimes a spade is a spade is a spade.

I was reminded, though, on Christmas morning, that the answer of "how" to so many questions can be answered quite simply. The text in church was from Isaiah's prophecy in Chapter 9:

"For unto us a Child is born,

Unto us a Son is given;

And the government will be upon His shoulder.

And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor,

Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. . .

The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this. (9:6-7)

In an impossible time, among a people desperate for something different and something better, Isaiah tells them it's going to fine. How? The zeal of the Lord. If it is his will, it will be done. Virgin mother? No problem. Betrayal? Easy. Ridiculously ineffective religious leaders? Who needs them. A little omniscient zeal works every time, in all times, with all peoples. If you're going his way, if you've got a kingdom agenda, "how" is a much easier question to answer.

How will I reconcile a hopeless relationship? How will I find the energy to pray? How will I be forgiven for the black deeds in my life? How will I, in all my weaknesses, become who God has designed me to be? How will I lead my children through the minefield of a me-first American culture hell-bent on handouts and hubris?

The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this. . .

A Servant to Emulate

2011-12-18T14:07:00.002-06:00

Pregnancy can be a scary ordeal. Perhaps "anxiety-inducing" is a better term. Regardless of situation, the topic of pregnancy produces anxiety, both good and bad. I remember various stages of "pregnancy anxiety" over the course of my marriage. Early on I remember an unplanned situation in which we thought Emily could be pregnant (she wasn't). Anxiety. I remember the intimidating process of deciding when we were "ready" to try to become pregnant. More anxiety. I then remember learning that she was pregnant, then experiencing difficulties, and later successes, and later children that were all of a sudden here and mine and full of smiles and needs. Major anxiety. And now I have conversations with friends of similar ages and circumstances, all centered around the topic of, "Are you done? Do you think you'll have another? What's your plan?"

Becoming pregnant, avoiding pregnancy, planning pregnancy, and experiencing pregnancy are all situations that are loaded with emotions, life-altering decisions, and careful consideration. It's not something that people in our culture like to be surprised about.

When I remember that Mary was a real person, a young, unmarried female with real goals and aspirations and plans, the account of the events before Jesus was born are fascinating. And most fascinating of all is that she had to respond to being an unwed virgin mother. She didn't plan for this; she couldn't even conceive (no pun intended) of the possibility. Then all of a sudden an angel shows up and says, "By the way, you're pregnant. Ready to be a mom? Oh, by the way, the child is not normal. You've heard of the Messiah? Yeah, good luck raising him. Don't screw up, okay? And tell your fiance not to worry."

Anxiety. Big anxiety. I'd have a few words for the angel if I were Mary. I'd ask a lot of "Why me?" questions. I'd complain loudly and rush out to tell other people how I got screwed over and it wasn't even my fault (one of my all-time favorite things to do when tough times are thrust upon me). I'm sure Mary had anxiety. She even had a few words for the angel. But they are rather unlike what mine might have been:

"Behold, the servant of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your word." (Luke 1:38)

Mary's whole world has been changed. Everything she grew up envisioning for herself is likely never going to happen, and she knows that. Her personal aspirations are dead. And her response to God? "Thy will be done."

Mary recognizes what I have so much trouble remembering - my life is not my own. I don't exist to be comfortable, nor do I exist for my own plans. The death of self is crucial in the life of a disciple of Christ. Anxiety-laden times reveal the character of people. The young virgin had it all figured out. She is a servant to emulate.

Philosophy 6: Knowledge is Fluid

2011-12-11T20:59:00.001-06:00

Here is my sixth and final post in a series of brief personal philosophical statements stemming from my graduate course final. This is my second writing dealing with epistemology (What is knowledge? What does it mean to know?). I hope you’ve enjoyed the series.

Philosophy position #6: Knowledge is fluid.
What I know is constantly changing. That doesn’t mean I was wrong before or that I didn’t truly “know” something; it simply means that I can know it better or more thoroughly now. The concept of love is perhaps my favorite example of this. When I told my future wife that I loved her when we were eighteen, I knew what love is and I meant it. Three years later on our wedding day, my knowledge of love was stronger. Now, ten years, two kids, and three moves later, I shudder to think about the difference between what I know now and what I knew then. Again, I wasn’t wrong before; I just know more thoroughly now. When it comes to love, I fully intend to know exponentially more in twenty-five years as I do now. This is true for love, God, basketball defensive theory, and Transcendental literature.

Because knowledge is fluid, I can’t fully “know” if I don’t keep pursuing this knowledge. I can’t follow the crowd and embrace an “ignorance is bliss” approach. It’s a tempting road to take. New knowledge, or better knowledge, carries with it consequences. To add to knowledge and know more fully requires living according to the new or better knowledge. That equates to change. At the cost of comfort. But comfort kills. Therefore, I can accept that I know something now and that I still need to pursue deeper knowledge.

Philosophy 5: To Know Requires Time

2011-12-08T20:33:00.000-06:00

Here is my fifth post in a series of brief personal philosophical statements stemming from my graduate course final. This is my first writing dealing with epistemology (What is knowledge? What does it mean to know?).

Philosophy Position #5: To know requires time.
Acquiring knowledge is earned. I don’t believe that I can just hear something and then know it. Instead, I’ve got to wrestle with it, turn it around in my head, experiment with the truth of it, talk about it, and reflect on it. Studying and reading are great; however, how often do we get things right the first time? How often do we hear a statement, get excited about its “truth,” share it with someone else as if it’s gospel, then forget all about it in a matter of days? No, knowledge must be handled and battled against in order to discover its strength. If the knowledge acquired isn’t tested, it is a weak, fleeting knowledge.

My knowledge about God continues to be something I wrestle with and seek to refine. Classroom practices are another example, as I don’t really know the quality of a strategy until I’ve tried it, usually multiple times. Good literature must be reread, questioned, and discussed in order to be “known.” People especially fall into this category. My best friends are the ones I’ve experienced life with. I earned knowledge about them by putting the time in and discovering more and more through experience. Those experiences are a kind of knowledge, perhaps even the best kind.

Philosophy 4: Keeping Score

2011-12-05T16:52:00.000-06:00

Here is my fourth post in a series of brief personal philosophical statements stemming from my graduate course final. This is my second writing dealing with ontology (the study of what it means to be. . . a human, a man, a teacher, a citizen, etc). I’ve addressed this topic before in the blog, but I think it bears repeating.

Philosophy Position #3: Don’t keep score. What it means to be an effective person in relationships is to follow this advice. I heard this mantra from a fellow teacher in my community a few months after moving back to Iowa. I needed help on a home improvement project; he encouraged me to ask several of the guys who were on the staff. I did, they helped, and the job was done marvelously. Afterward I started talking about how appreciative I was and that I really owed them all. At that point my friend told me there was only one rule for using this help: don’t keep score. I was told to ask when I needed something, and just make sure that when somebody needed something from me that I was there. I haven’t paid for a home improvement project in years following this advice. We don’t worry about who owes who, about how many favors we’ve done for one person and when it’s going to be our own turn. We don’t worry about who bought the last round or the last pizza. Nobody owes anybody anything.

I’ve heard this given as marriage advice as well, and I try to apply it to that area of my life. It’s hard. During the summer when I’m home alone with my daughters all day, it’s easy to start counting up all the housecleaning chores I’ve done and the number of diapers I’ve changed. It’s easy for her in the dead of basketball season to count the number of hours I’m even home, let alone compare our workloads. However, we’ve gotten pretty good at not keeping score. There is no ledger of wrongdoings or service. When we’re careful about it, there’s just love. And if I did start to keep score, I would do an awful lot of losing. I think I’ll keep the scoreboard lights shut off.

See related post.

Philosophy 3: To Be a Teacher

2011-12-04T14:56:00.000-06:00

Here is my third post in a series of brief personal philosophical statements stemming from my graduate course final. This writing deals with ontology (the study of what it means to be. . . a human, a man, a teacher, a citizen, etc). Though not religious in nature, my discussion below on education and being a teacher is one I feel all can benefit from or should at least consider. What is the role of our public schools and their teachers today? My thoughts on this trend away from the current educational approaches by governments and educational leaders alike. I fear the day when my approach no longer has a place in the public schools. I’d love to hear what you think:

Philosophy Position #3: To be a teacher means to provide opportunities for success for my students.

I emphasize the word “opportunities” here, as I don’t believe whether or not they decide to pursue that success is up to me. I can lead a horse to water, but I can’t make him drink. Metaphorically speaking, it’s my job to bring the horse to the water, explain just how good the water is, describe it’s nutritional benefits over the course of their lifetime, and maybe even splash some on them. Being a teacher means splashing in the water myself, drinking fully from it, and attempting to convince the horse just how thirsty they are. My job is to show them the way to success and make it as attractive as possible over and over and over again. It’s each student’s individual choice to go experience it.

Schools (like mine) love to flood their mission statements with phrases such as “ensure learning for all.” I’m a little too realistic for that. I can’t “ensure” anything. Nor should I. Kids have to own their knowledge, own their skills, and own their education. They have to have something invested in it in order for it to matter. If they don’t, perhaps we are irreparably weakening our democracy. Schools today are struggling because they are working harder than the students to get them to pass. Schools fear student failure more than students do. I refuse to join that camp. I will challenge students and teach them what they don’t want to know but need to. I will bring the learning to them. I just can’t make them take it.

Philosophy 2: The Root of Evil

2011-11-26T14:04:00.001-06:00

Here is my second post in a series of brief personal philosophical statements stemming from my graduate course final. Like the first, it deals with axiology (study of values and morality, right and wrong, etc.).

Philosophy Position #2: The root of all evil and unhappiness comes as a result of attempting to make a god of oneself.

One of my favorite quotes to put on the board in my classroom and have students respond to in writing is from Thomas Merton: “To consider persons and events and situations only in the light of their effect on myself is to live on the doorstep of hell.” There’s no question that this is the great challenge of my life. I battle against this every day. When the alarm clock goes off, instead of being grateful for breath, the day’s possibilities, and my family, I curse about being tired and having to go to work. Instead of looking first to serve my wife and kids, I get frustrated about the lack of hot water, or being out of my favorite cereal, or the mess of toys I see everywhere. I seek to enter conversations in which I can offer my own complaints, and I see people as obstacles to productivity. This is a miserable way to live. Luckily, I don’t approach the world like this all day or every day. But that desire is in me - the desire to believe I deserve comfort, the desire to believe I deserve the world to revolve around me, the desire to be worshipped by others.

I see evidence of this in much of the literature that I teach, written both by Christians and non-Christians. The happiest characters are those who have discovered that joy is found in valuing others over the self and who see themselves as small in comparison to the rest of the world. Obviously I bring God into this and maintain that full happiness is arrived while focusing on Him. To be disconnected from God is to invite dissatisfaction with life, and that disconnection occurs most easily when my focus is on the self.

To Whoever Has Been Given Much. . .

2011-11-23T14:11:00.007-06:00

My blogging activity in the past month or two hasn't been as productive as I'd like, primarily because I've been working on a final paper for my philosophy course. The paper is now done, and many parts of it are relevant to this blog. One of the parts of the paper asked me to describe 6 philosophies of life that I try to live by. I've decided to post several of these here over the next week or so. They're brief - a couple of paragraphs each - and simply attempt to lay out some of the guiding principles in my life. Hopefully you find the reading worthwhile. . .

Philosophy Position #1: To whoever has been given much, much will be expected.
This axiological (concerned with good and evil, right and wrong, values) statement addresses the question of what is required of me in life. I embrace this phrase. It is a great burden that I carry, but it is one that I am happy to bear. The bottom line here is that for me to engage in “right living,” I must live up to my blessings.

This is a challenge for me, because I have been hugely blessed. Reading and education have always come easy to me. Frankly, I rarely have had to struggle in any educational setting. Also, I was given a safe upbringing with two parents who loved me, supported me, and challenged me. I have been given a loving, sacrificial wife who I met early in life. Trouble has avoided me, not necessarily because I’m a “good person” but because I’ve never been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was born passionate and competitive, and I have been spared a great deal of pain my life. Other than with Costa Rican coffee and Nutty Bars, I’ve never struggled with addiction. I’ve always been surrounded by good friends, challenging mentors, and instruction on God. At this point in my career, I’m financially secure. Life has been good to me.

My morality says that I must, therefore, produce a great deal of fruit in this lifetime. Learning is an obligation (though one I enjoy), because I have the ability. There are others in the world who know less, who have less, who have been loved less. It is my joy and responsibility to improve their lives in some way, to offer what I can. I’ve been given a great wife; I am held accountable for treasuring her every single day. I must help where I can, be who I can, and passionately pursue good. And a great deal of good is in the pursuit itself.

Attacked By Oswald

2011-11-20T21:07:00.002-06:00

In my mind there is no greater author and no better text (outside of Scriptures) at quickly and effectively challenging Christians and providing a necessarily blunt wake-up call to all things spiritual than Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest. I'm not a "devotional" kind of guy; I never have been. But this book, set up in one page increments for each day of the year, is so full of reflection-worthy commentary that I find myself spending a great deal of time on each page. I highly recommend this text to anyone unfamiliar with it.

I've picked the text up off my shelf and have been carrying it around in my bag the last few weeks, reading a passage or two over my lunch hour and taking notes. In my last few readings, Chambers has had challenging words regarding the "death of the self" and truly being a living sacrifice. Christians like me tend to give lip-service to making our lives all for the purposes of God and "seeking His will" in our lives. Chambers has some piercing quotes that really question one's commitment to this idea:

"We are not sanctified for ourselves. . . Things happen which have nothing to do with us; God is getting us into fellowship with Himself."
"The first thing God does with us is to get us based on rugged Reality until we do not care what becomes of us individually as long as He gets His way for the purpose of His redemption."
"If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart."
"If you are going to be used by God, He will take you through a multitude of experiences that are not meant for you at all, they are meant to make you useful in His hands, and to enable you to understand what transpires in other souls so that you will never be surprised at what you come across."
"The circumstances of a saint's life are ordained of God. In the life of a saint there is not such thing as chance."
"I have to learn that the aim in life is God's, not mine. God is using me from His great personal standpoint, and all He asks of me is that I trust Him, and never say - Lord, this gives me such heartache. To talk in that way makes me a clog."
"If God has made your cup sweet, drink it with grace; if he has made it bitter, drink it in communion with Him."

Thought these might be worth sharing here. They really punched me in the gut, which Chambers is quite adept at doing. Hopefully something here challenges you the way they've challenged me.

Joe Paterno and Me

2011-11-10T09:00:00.004-06:00

I have to be careful because it seems that so many are rushing to say something about Joe Paterno in light of all that's happened in the last week. I'd like to avoid that. Instead, I'd prefer to focus on the situation surrounding Paterno itself, not necessarily the man and what he should or should not have done. Here, then, are some reflections about the current fall of a coaching icon:

1. Many, many people are heart-broken to see a beloved football coach fall from grace so quickly. Others are "disappointed" in his actions or lack thereof. This disappointment is the logical and typical end anytime we as humans deify other humans. This was inevitable. It was inevitable because Joe Paterno is a human being. Joe Paterno is not perfect. Joe Paterno is, frankly, a sinner. And so am I. If you follow anyone long enough, get close to them, learn more about them, the inevitable result is that they will disappoint you. Somehow, someway you will not like a decision they made, an action they took or didn't take, or beliefs they hold. They will let you down.

This is what happens when we try to make a god out of a human being. We will be let down. Our history is full of such people. JFK and Martin Luther King, Jr. were/are both beloved leaders in our country. Both of them had extra-marital affairs. Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa "saved baseball" with an epic homerun battle, and then we found out both of them were cheating the whole time. Athletes, celebrities, politicians, and church leaders, over and over and over again, have fallen to some scandal or another. We see more of it today than we did in previous generations. I don't think it's because humanity is getting worse; it's because the time of privacy is dead. We just know more about our heroes now than we ever did before. And it seems like the more we know, the more inevitable it is that we will be disappointed in some way.

The rewards are different based on what we choose to worship. Worship humans - get disappointed. Worship God, and have a solid, unmovable foundation on which to direct praise.

2. While humans are not good targets for deifying, they are great for emulating. Not all the details of what Paterno knew or didn't know are out; however, many of the details of his 60 years of coaching are. Those actions are worth emulating. By and large, Coach Paterno did things the right way. He positively impacted thousands of people, a university, and a community. So much of what he did is worth celebrating and imitating. Joe Paterno, from what I know of him, is a sinner and a good man. His contributions are worthy of focus.

As I said before, JFK and MLK did magnificent things for our country. Those contributions are worthy of focus as well. Our culture wants to deify, then burn at the stake at the first sniff of wrongdoing. I'm suggesting a middle ground: Expect to be disappointed, but focus on the good. When I think about all the people in my life that I've looked up to, treasured, or even revered, I know they've all let me down in some way. Some of my heroes in life have been racist, impatient, mean-spirited, self-righteous, unfaithful, and on and on and on. But they've been so good in other ways that they've been worth emulating, worth befriending, worth learning from.

The situation at Penn State this week has shown that Joe Paterno isn't perfect and is a sinner. So are you. So am I. I know I've disappointed my wife, my children, my parents, my family, my friends, my players, and my co-workers many times over my life. Though at times it was unintentional, I still haven't perfectly lived up to any standards of great human behavior. I'm sure it will happen again. I just hope that those people will remember whatever good I've done, and focus on that, while seeking an example of perfection from above.

I will remember Joe Paterno, football coach, as a solid leader who made people better. I hope those in my life have it in them to see me with the same rose-colored glasses.

Running on Empty

2011-11-07T21:02:00.002-06:00

Been on somewhat of a blogging hiatus the last two weeks. No time, no energy, and nothing to say, I was frustrated and wasn't sure where to go. Then I looked into the notebook I carry with me full of random notes I take, and I saw this appropriate quote I recently wrote down: "Take it as a rule without exception, that to be able to overflow spontaneously you must be full."

And there it is. I am most certainly not full. In fact, I've been running on empty for quite a while. I have failed to fill myself with time for thought and reading and prayer, so I've had very little to give. Frankly, I've never been this mentally weary heading into a basketball season as I am right now. This week I've taken some steps towards refilling and refocusing - fasting, reading some Oswald Chambers, dressing less casually to improve my focus, taking a personal day - and I hope to come out of it more effective and overflowing so that I might better serve my students, my players, my family, any readers I've still got, and myself.

While I attempt to refill, I do have a few random notes to offer that I've collected over the past couple of weeks. Hopefully, in the absence of overflowing, something here might prove helpful to you:

Some great perspective from Arthur Ashe: "If I ask 'Why me?' as I am assaulted by heart disease and AIDS, I must ask 'Why me?' about my blessings, and question my right to enjoy them."
If one key to connecting with people is through questions about their lives, Christians as a whole have some work to do: "Because Christians tend to be answer people, we're not especially skilled at asking good questions; questions that aren't simplistic, leading, or downright insulting." (Tim Downs, in his book Finding Common Ground)
I wrote recently about living a "live musician" lifestyle. Here's more commentary from a preacher that echoes that sentiment: "I would rather preach than do anything else I know in this world. I have never missed a chance to preach. I would rather preach than eat my dinner, or have a holiday or anything else the world can offer. I would rather pay to preach than be paid not to preach. . ." (Samuel Chadwick) I hope I can say something similar at the end of my days.
"Prayer is taxing and exacting. Prayer means enduring and denying self, a daily dying by choice. It is wrong when, instead of praying, we do things just to please others." (Leonard Ravenhill)

Does God Hate Comma Splices?

2011-10-23T21:37:00.004-05:00

I was furious at some of my students today. Absolutely furious. While checking essays on a Sunday afternoon (something I loathe), I physically wanted to shake something. Anything. As it was too early for a relaxing beverage, I had to leave the table, exhausted and angry, and go do something else. I got out several knives and stabbed pumpkins for the next two hours.

Paper after paper, I read the same mistakes. Often that might mean that there's a hole in my teaching, that there's an area that I've got to cover before students write their next essay. That I can live with. This, however, was much different. During the essay writing process I gave the students a list of common word choice errors. The list included words that absolutely under no circumstances should be used in a paper. We went over the list and the reasoning for it for two days. I didn't stop there. During revision activities in class, students had to search for these errors in their own essays and in the essays of others. That was another three days of class. After all of that, in essay after essay I had students blatantly ignore the words I spoke to them, the notes I gave to them, and the lessons I had them participate in. Many papers are splattered with the very errors I worked so hard to emphasize, the ones I told them would cost them up to two letter grades on their final score. Righteous anger boiled at my dining room table.

By some act of grace, I later got a little perspective. I am who my students are, just on a much larger stage with a much more important grade to get. They (somewhat) enthusiastically take in my words, my notes, and my lessons, then later ignore them when it matters. How is that any different than my recurring habit of studying and nodding in agreement to God's words, his Biblical directions, and the sermons/conferences/books I engage in, then casually ignoring them in my quest for the good life?

Tomorrow when some of my students get their essays back and ask if they can rewrite them for a better grade, I'll tell them no. I've got no mercy for this kind of behavior, this kind of effort. No extra credit. No re-writes. Just do better next time. Learn your lesson. God also isn't going to let me go back and re-do any parts of my life that I've failed at miserably because I didn't pay attention to his notes. I've got to live with those errors, those sins, those times of missed opportunity for great adventure and great joy. I can't gain extra credit from my church attendance.

But his mercy runs much greater than mine as a teacher. He's willing to forget my errors. He was even willing to pay for them. I'm sure he despises my sin at a much greater level than I despise blatant pronoun abuses, but he's constantly offering lessons for me to get it right.

My students will wish for me to be a little more Christ-like tomorrow. But they're just going to have to live with the fact that I have a much nicer teacher than they do.

Simple Commands for the Pursuit of Happiness

2011-10-20T21:57:00.002-05:00

In my last post I defended the rich a bit, pointing to their right in our democracy to "the pursuit of happiness." I also said that if they're pursuing it through wealth, it's probably a bad strategy. My experience tells me there is a better way.

While reading the book of Hebrews recently, I began to write down some of the commands for Christians and realized what God is commanding is a list of that which will bring us the most joy. In only one chapter, we get these commands:

Keep your lives free from the love of money (v. 5)
Be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you. . ." Therefore, what can man do to me? (v. 5-6)
Continuously offer a sacrifice of praise (v. 15)
Do not forget to do good and share with others (v. 16)
Pray for us (i.e. - lose your self-focus and think of the well-being of others) - v. 18
Keep on loving each other as brothers (v. 1)
For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come (v. 14)

When I consider the times in my life that I've done this, I know that joy has followed. When I am content, not coveting, I am at peace. When I am praising, it is an overflow of my joy and appreciation. Helping others and removing the focus from self is also exceptionally liberating. To be in a community of unity, of shared responsibility, of having each other's back is to truly live as a rich man (see Health Care and Chainsaws). And to be future-oriented, to have my eyes on God and eternity rather than my daily complaints, is to gain the ability to lose my daily complaints.

This is one chapter. Of one book. Of one Testament.

Despite it's misuse by many, the Bible was created for our joy.

Point the Finger Where it Belongs: The Church

2011-10-15T21:28:00.004-05:00

Don't blame the rich.

I've grown weary of phrases like "pay their fair share" (as I pointed out in my last post) or the blatant criticism of anybody who makes a lot of money and doesn't want to share it. It's not their responsibility. It's not their job. One of our country's founding principles is the right to the "pursuit of happiness." No requirement exists that says, "If your pursuit of happiness brings you gobs and gobs of money, you need to share it to equal things out. You are also responsible for the happiness of others, since you've been so good at obtaining it for yourself." That one hasn't yet made it into the books.

The rich are just chasing happiness in the only way they know how. It's a bad strategy, in my humble opinion; but they have every right to that strategy or any other. If they want to burn their money, they can. It's theirs. They are not legally obligated to use it in a way that makes others happy.

I also tire of Americans trying to tell other Americans that they are too rich and should share. That's asinine. If a lower-middle class American were to go walking through a 3rd world country, I guarantee they'd look like a "super-rich" individual there. If Americans were willing to get rid of this provincial, Americentric view of life, we'd see that any demands for the rich to share a large portion of their excess wealth are demands pointing the finger at 90% of us to bring up much of the rest of the world. If you're at any income level in the U.S. (aside from abject poverty), and you're not willing to give up 70% of your income for the less fortunate, then you really have nothing to say to those who have more money than you.

That's not to say that the right thing to do isn't to help the less fortunate. It absolutely is, for some of us. Don't look to the rich, though. They're just following the rules (for the most part) that have been laid out. Is there anyone to blame, then, that poverty and hunger exist not only in the U.S., but around the world? Who can we wag a finger at, asking when they're going to do something about it? My answer - the church.

While it's not an American principle or law to help those less fortunate, it certainly is a Biblical one. Christ was pretty clear about that. Treat the poor, the homeless, the orphaned, the downtrodden (in Christ's words - "the least of these") as if they were Christ himself. It's not given as an option, as a suggestion, as something that it would be nice to get to. The entire church was built on this principle. America screams of individualism; Christ screamed for the unity of the body. Americans have property rights; Christians are to hold all things loosely except for God.

If there's anyone to blame here, anyone to call out and demand more from, it is those who profess Christianity. Rich Christians, middle-class Christians, and poor Christians have a job to do. That job is to serve, to find those in need and provide for that need as a picture of what Christ has to offer. We are commanded to make the poor our responsibility. If anyone's dropped the ball, it's the group who has claimed it's their responsibility in the first place.

And we weren't told to give of our excess, to give whatever is left over after we have what we want. We were told to give sacrificially. It's a tough command; we have a lot of trouble giving up what we think we've earned (especially if we're locked into a prosperity doctrine). But it's also a great way to pursue that happiness we have a right to - to trust Christ, to help others, to value God and faith and human life all at one time.

Some individual Christians and entire church bodies are doing a magnificent job of this. It won't show up in the newspapers (and shouldn't) because they're just doing their job. It's a fundamental responsibility and role to play in our society. Don't look to the government to fix poverty. Government is either clueless or powerless or both to take care of that problem. Look to the churches. Ask them what they're doing. For they have a greater responsibility, and greater offer of joy, than any of the rich being attacked.

Amazing Grace in the Ghetto

2011-10-09T21:12:00.003-05:00

I just got done reading the book Amazing Grace by Jonathan Kozol for my grad class. While the title is in reference to the well-known hymn, the goal of the text (written in the 1990's) isn't to elaborate on God's grace. Instead, the text provides several interviews that Kozol conducts with individuals living in the poorest, most dangerous ghettos of New York City. The pictures of these neighborhoods are ones of constant violence, drug use, disease, poverty, and despair. Kozol highlights specifically the plight of children born into these neighborhoods. Frankly, it is a grim read.

The book's purpose, from my perspective, is for Kozol to push a fairly liberal-minded agenda through a guilt trip to the nation. It is full of phrases like our need for a "fair-minded society" and for the rich to "pay their fair share"; the one constant is the blame of government and society for allowing the ghettos to happen. He's probably right in many of his points; I don't know. I noticed something completely different in the text that I'm sure he didn't intend. In these interview with young and old alike, with those desperate and broken and hurting, the one constant seemed to be God.

Some examples:

- In regards to an older woman in the neighborhood: “Sometimes if I don’t see her for a while, I start to worry. During the winter you don’t see her much. I guess she stays inside. You feel concerned. . . There’s something about this lady that’s mysterious. She knows all the verses of the Bible. It makes everybody happy when they see her.” (45)

- Kozol asks one woman: “How do you remain so calm? What gives you strength?”

“I pray.”
“Does praying really ease the pain?”
“Yes. It does.” (105)

- “I’ve seen a generation die. Some of them was killed with guns. Some lost their minds from drugs. Some from disease. Now we have AIDS, the great plague, the plague of AIDS, the plauge that can’t be cured. It’s true I’ve seen it. I’ve been there. Ive been here in this building 24 years and I have seen it all.”

“How,” I ask her, “do you keep yourself composed?”
“I pray. I talk to God. I tell Him, ‘Lord, it is your work. Put me to my rest at night and wake me in the morning.” (169)

- Anthony, a 13 year old, recounting the story of Samuel: “I would be happy if God called on me,” he answers. “Happy? No! Let me revise that. I would be excited! I would say, ‘Here I am! I’m here, Lord! Over here! I’m down here in the garden.’” (215)

A pastor in the area has an idea why this is: “I believe that the wilderness is where God is found.”

Another pastor has this to say about those not in the wilderness, not in a desperate situation: "Those who have everything they want or need have often the least feeling for religion. The rich are very busy storing everything they can accumulate.” (78)

While I know that some will argue that the desperate are simply using religion as a crutch, that it's a creation of our minds in order to make us feel better and delude ourselves into making peace with the world, I don't think that's the case. C.S. Lewis wrote that, "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." The more comfortable we make our lives, the less we see our own sin, our own weakness, and our need for the amazing grace of God. The poor down-trodden do not have this luxury.

I sadly see this in my own life. The more wealth I acquire, the less I talk to God about my money. The longer I'm married to a great woman, the more likely I am to think that I chose my spouse wisely or that I've put in the work to have a loving marriage. I forget that she is a gift from the ultimate Gift-Giver, that she was designed to partner with me. And is it terrible that the more my 4 year old learns about God and talks about Him, the less desperately I pray for her soul? I am ashamed of these facts, but I've committed to honesty in this blog. They seem relevant here.

I don't want the wilderness. I don't want the ghetto. And I certainly don't want poverty or disease or brokenness. I'm scared to death of all of those. But without them, am I broken enough to recognize amazing grace? I fear the answer.

The Day My Heathen Public Education Saved Me

2011-10-01T07:01:00.004-05:00

I haven't been able to post recently, as I've been working on my "Defining Experience" paper for my educational philosophy course. The writing prompt is simple: describe a specific event that has had a major impact on my worldview or approach to living. Since this is pretty much the focus of my blog anyway, I thought I'd share a condensed rough draft here. Perhaps by posting this it will provide a better perspective for my readers regarding why I think/write the way I do. Here it is:

Everyone hated Dr. Kaylor. A large percentage of freshmen at the University of Northern Iowa him as their professor for Humanities I during the fall semester, and I was one of them. In a lecture hall of three to four hundred students, he was a belligerent, unhelpful, pompous jerk who enjoyed talking above his students, calling on them individually in order to mock their answers, and requiring of them impossible exams for which there was no adequate study method. He was Satan; and I, along with my fellow freshmen, were in the depths of hell. UNI was a great place, but Dr. Kaylor was too much to take. He was the one blemish (albeit a huge one) in a land of post-secondary Paradise. Somehow, someway, he’s also the starting point for the worldview I espouse today.

I walked into my tenure at UNI full of confidence, though I’m not sure any of it was well-founded. Though a good student in high school with a high ACT score and a class rank of 3^rd, I never really had to work for any of my academic success. I did have to work for any athletic success I achieved; but alas, that “success” was becoming merely an above-average athlete at best, good but not great. Still, I was confident in my work ethic and desire for learning, and I also had confidence in my faith.

I grew up in a serious Christian Reformed home; both my father and mother were raised in this denomination. Church was on Sunday morning and Sunday evening, and Wednesday nights were for the youth church gathering called AWANA. There was no alcohol in the house or ever consumed by my parents, we didn't shop on Sundays, and meals were ended with an evening devotional. I was born Christian, raised Christian, and behaved Christian. I acted the right way, stayed out of trouble, knew basic Biblical tenets, and was sure of my salvation. John Calvin himself would have been proud (though Jonathan Edwards might have questioned my “conversion” experience). While I was in no way “on fire” for the faith, I had that confidence I’ve written of that I had that part of my life figured out. Enter Dr. Kaylor.

My defining experience occurred in the middle of a lecture in which Dr. Kaylor was torturing students, demanding them to respond to his questions in this expansive lecture hall, then torturing them for the answers they provided for everyone to see. The topic on this particular day happened to be religion.

I would venture to guess that most students in that room were much like me at the time. Most of us, I’m willing to wager, had never been challenged in this way before; we were waiting for the fill-in-the-blank study guide with all the answers to study ten minutes before exams. We were sure we were somehow being mistreated, as our immediate educational needs (i.e. handholding) were not being met. We knew that Dr. Kaylor didn’t have a shred of credibility, as so many students were struggling in the class. We knew exactly who to blame. None of this absolves him. He still, to the best of my recollection, was an ass, and a bad teacher to boot. However, in an effort to paint a true picture, I must include the pampered mindset that many of us went into that room holding during our first semester of life at the university. We were incredulous at the idea that we must take this man’s cruelty and educational malpractice.

I’m sure I also fit the typical demographic of the classroom as an Evangelical Christian who was raised that way and had experienced very few challenges to that faith. We believed that Jesus is good and true; our traditions and teachings are right; and more importantly, that God = love. The ideal of George Carlin’s “Buddy Christ” from the film Dogma was alive and well in our hearts.

I firmly believe Dr. Kaylor knew all of this and that he felt like rocking the boat a little bit. I also believe he took great pleasure in not only rocking that boat, but shaking 18 year olds out of their own religious boat entirely, never to return to the safety of the cabin. On this particular day, questioning members of the class about the goodness of God, Dr. Kaylor had armed himself with obscure quotes from the Bible that suggested a wrathful, angry God, a God who was unfair, full of spite, and a murderer. Students in the class were taking great offense. The sad part about it, though, was that no one had any kind of retort. We all got eaten up by an atheist’s ability to quote Scripture. I kept my mouth shut and laid low. Defeated, I limped my bruised and battered religious confidence back to my dorm room after class, questioning everything.

This is the moment that changed if not my trajectory, then at least my resolve. I decided that if I had no answers regarding my faith, no reason for what I believed, and no knowledge of the central text of the faith to make me capable of defending my positions, then I had no religion. If I was to be a person of faith, I must get serious about it. I put every belief on the table, ready to sort into either a “discard,” “keep,” or “update” file. Then I started reading. I haven’t stopped since.

This is not the typical “testimony” heard so often that includes deep falls into an abyss of casual sex, belligerent drinking, recreational drug use, and Buddha worship. I didn’t become a different person, nor did I make a lot of life-altering mistakes. I simply quit accepting traditions of the church in which I grew up at face value. I no longer wanted to “believe” anything: I wanted to know. I wanted answers that were more solid than “because that’s how I was raised” or “I just don’t think a loving God would do that.” How exactly should I treat the Sabbath? What’s with this predestination stuff? Infant baptism or believer baptism? What is my ultimate purpose? What does real faith look like? Real prayer? Why should I pray if God already knows what I need? Can the Bible be trusted?

One of the best practices this ordeal taught me to do is seek out smart people and ask a lot of questions. I tried to surround myself with others who were as passionate as I was about seeking truth but had been doing it for a lot longer than I had. I was rarely the smartest individual in the room, and I didn’t need to be. I wanted to learn, to listen, to adapt and achieve clarity of thought. I began meeting with a mentor of sorts, and we discussed theology and leadership theory. I studied and discussed in my free time, and there was no shortage of opportunity for this on a university campus. I talked to people who pushed my thinking and who also had a significantly different worldview from my own. I no longer wanted to be sheltered, to listen only to those with whom I agreed.

The journey continues today. I have great confidence in what I know, as well as a willingness to re-sort the piles on my figurative table to suit the new knowledge and experience that I gain. Emerson wrote in “Self-Reliance” that, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. . . With consistency a great soul simply has nothing to do.” I’ve given up consistency of thought for the rewards of passionate yet developing thought.

This quest for ultimate truth has led me on a winding path that maintains vision of the mountain, no matter how far to the right or the left it meanders. Although it has been a truly academic experience, the knowledge gained has led to intense and fulfilling emotional responses to the goodness of a God that I now know instead of claim to know. I am wiser, more humble, and starving for the truths that I still have not yet come to understand.

Eyes Wide Shut

2011-09-20T21:07:00.004-05:00

In my last post, I explored the concept of ontology (the study of what it means “to be”) from my grad class by referencing a quote and some commentary from a fellow student. Tonight I move to epistemology.

Epistemology is the study of what is knowledge. What does it mean to know? How do we know that we know? And on and on. I used the same paradoxical quote that the aforementioned fellow student used: “I shut my eyes in order to see.” Except, I used it as a basis for my epistemological approach to life. Here’s what I wrote:

Knowledge is very rarely what is immediately in front of my eyes, or at least not completely that. It’s just not that easy. While it’s tempting to make it that easy and to decide that something is absolutely true based on immediate evidence, I’ve found it be fairly reckless to be sure of something based on that quality alone.

To really know, to have knowledge and wisdom and confidence in what we think we know, requires a long-term (sometimes years-long) acquisition of experience, study, and reflection. One example is with people. If we base what we “know” about a person based on what’s right in front of our eyes this second, we will either be dead wrong or only cognizant of a small fraction of the truth. We must take what we see, add it to all our other experiences and conversations with this individual, and balance it in order to create knowledge about that person. That can’t happen in a day. There have been many days when I’ve been agitated with some of my best friends in the world, and I’m sure I’ve produced similar feelings in them. Had they or I made judgments based only on what was in front of us at that moment, it would be a lonely life. When I close my eyes, I get much closer to knowing.

The same is true of study, especially in education. Too often educators get caught up in what they are reading right now, of what “the research says” in the article in this month’s journal, or this year’s best-seller, or this conference’s keynote speaker. And that’s not true. If we close our eyes and combine it with years and years of study and experience, we can come closer to “knowing” the truth. I also love to study leadership theory. There’s a new book out every 12 seconds touting a brand new approach to leadership. If I were to embrace each book, each article, each speaker that’s before my eyes as having absolute knowledge, I’d be lost. Instead, I must slow down, reflect, and alter my “knowledge” where appropriate. I assume this to be the case in every profession.

This is especially true for me in obtaining “knowledge” about my faith. I’ve come to realize that I can have complete faith at the same time I have a working theology. What I was convinced of when I was 18 has changed considerably now. What I read or hear from religious leaders now I’m also careful to handle with care, or at least with lots of reflection and prayer. In fact, each time I read Bible passages, they seem to speak a different “knowledge.” A lot of that is dependent on my life scenario at that point in time, and a lot is also dependent on prior “knowledge” I bring to the table in my reading.

I guess my point here is that the here and now, the immediate, carries with it too much emotion to call it knowledge. We rush off and can't wait to share with somebody what we just learned, how it's changed how we see everything, how it can save their career/life/soul. Perhaps we shouldn't be in such a rush. Positive or negative, everything we see, read, hear, and speak is colored by biases. In order to remove the color and obtain true knowledge, I must fade to black, eyes wide shut, in reflection.

Piles of Laundry and Spilled Dog Food

2011-09-17T21:51:00.003-05:00

In my philosophy course for grad school right now, we've been talking about ontology, epistemology, and axiology. It's some pretty heavy stuff, and I see it influencing the next few posts here on the blog.

Today I'd like to look at ontology, which is the study of what it means "to be." What does it mean to be a man? What does it mean to be a husband? A teacher? A Christian? What does it mean to be me?

A woman in the class, whose work I've really enjoyed reading, had an interesting post that I read this morning. The assignment asked us to choose from a list of paradoxes that help to define what our ontological view is. She chose the quote, "I shut my eyes in order to see" (Paul Gauguin). Her point was this: if she lets what is immediately in front of her eyes define who she is, physical distractions such as "piles of laundry . . and spilled dog food" can keep her from forming a real identity.

This struck a chord with me this morning. I had just done a walk through my house , making a mental list of what needs to get done in order to simply survive the weekend in the house. And five minutes after it’s clean and orderly, it will fade back into piles of laundry and spilled dog food. Is this what it means to be me? Is this fatherhood and manhood? Is this seriously my life, seriously how I spend almost every waking minute, managing the chaos of piles of laundry and spilled dog food? That's where it gets scary, where people really start to question why they had kids, or why they're in their marriage. They must get past what their eyes tell them at that moment.

If I don’t close my eyes every once in a while, I forget that “being” is much more than that. I forget just how good it is to “be” in the midst of all that laundry and dog food, of how lucky I am, of how much joy it all brings. I love my wife, I love my kids, and I love my dog. Admittedly, what's in front of my eyes is, at times, a little discouraging, especially when what's in front of my eyes is throwing a fit or peeing on the floor. But it's only discouraging as long as I forget that what it means "to be" me is a man who has everything that anyone serious about happiness could ever want.

It's hard a lot of days. When your eyes sees an expensive car repair, an illness, a mess of toys and dishes everywhere, or repeated rejection, it's easy to begin believing that's what defines you, that that's what it means "to be" you. When you let both the figurative and literal piles of laundry and spilled dog food in life be your focus, it's going to be depressing some days.

You've got to close your eyes at those times. That isn't you. Don't let your eyes speak. Close your eyes and listen to God remind you of who you are.

Persevering in Prayer

2011-09-14T20:00:00.003-05:00

My year-long struggle with maintaining a regular prayer life continues. I reread a book this summer called The Contemporaries Meet the Classics on Prayer, this time taking notes as I read. It's a collection of short essays, book and sermon excerpts, etc. that Christian leaders from the last 2,000 years have written. One heading I have in my collection of notes is "Persevering in Prayer."

I've struggled with this, as I've been loathe to pray when the mood doesn't strike me. I fear not being authentic in my praying, so I've stayed away from forcing prayer when I just didn't feel like it. In my mind, that meant it would be in some ways fake, routine, and empty talk. After reading this text, I realize I was wrong.

Below are some of the quotes I've taken from the text that I wanted to share. I feel like a hypocrite for posting advice on prayer, but my weaknesses don't make any of these ideas any less true.

My notes:

prayer is a relationship in which you allow God to see so much that you would rather leave in darkness. It’s going to be rare to feel like doing this. (151)
resistance to praying is the desire to cling tightly to yourself (151)
“The visible world daily bludgeons us with its things and events. . . Few people arise in the morning as hungry for God as they are for cornflakes or toast and eggs. . . (However), We are required to ‘bet our life’ that the visible world, while real, is not reality itself.” (157-9)
Waiting for the right mood is impossible. “Make up your mind in advance to keep your course steady, when you feel like it and when you don’t. . . A man who surrenders to these variable moods is doomed to inefficiency. . .” (160-1)
Dean Goulburn: “When you cannot pray as you would, pray as you can.” (161)
“So if you are averse to pray, pray the more.” (162)
Charles Spurgeon: “We should pray when we are in a praying mood, for it would be sinful to neglect so fair an opportunity. We should pray when we are not in a praying mood because it would be dangerous to remain in so unhealthy a condition.” (163)
“The less one depends on feelings, the more one is prepared for union with God” (193)
“We refuse to pray unless it thrills or excites us, which is the most intense form of spiritual selfishness. . . When you labor at prayer, from God’s perspective there are always results.” (258)

Reflection on Reflection

2011-09-11T20:41:00.007-05:00

As a follow up to my previous post on some of the major concepts of philosophy, I've included below some of the thoughts on reflection I've contributed in my current grad class:

Reflection is closely tied with questioning, because it requires the question of how well did I do this? And it's rare, like deep questions, because reflection itself implies that there is a better way. Few want to admit that, and fewer still believe that it's even a possibility. Reflection barely has a chance in American society; it screams of weakness, not of the American way of self-reliance and strength.

One huge challenge that I find in terms of reflection is striking a balance between acting and reflecting. Reflecting is somewhat counterintuitive. Action is celebrated - we are told to do, to accomplish, to win, to work hard. Few are the pep rallies motivating us to slow down and ponder. But effective action requires reflection. With too much action and not enough reflection, the action suffers. The doer becomes mediocre. On the other side, an individual who is constantly reflecting can be paralyzed by self-doubt. Then all of the reflection goes for naught - no improvements can be made on a lack of action (call it the Hamlet syndrome). As with most things in life, balance is key.

Reflection requires a couple of commodities that are increasingly rare in our society as well. One of them is quiet. It's impossible to reflect with a constant stream of messages being inflicted on our brains. Whether its our kids, the TV, the phone, our students, or the radio, our world is filled with noise. And for the most part, we like it that way. We look busy, feel productive, and get entertained. It's a world we've created, consumed, and now demand; it just isn't an environment that allows for a lot of think time.

The other commodity is honest feedback and criticism from people who want the best for you. Rare is the friend who is willing to risk the relationship telling you what you need to hear. Rare is the co-worker willing to deal with the confrontation present in telling a peer they need to do a job better (or at least differently). Rare is the spouse who, instead of complaining to their friends about their beloved, confronts the problem directly in humility. Conflict and confrontation carries with it such emotional baggage that most find it more expedient to say the easy thing. Reflection in all areas of life requires honest outside eyes to show us where our biases have led us astray.

I also believe that reflection is the burden of leadership. Most people have the option of engaging in reflection or not, but not leaders; leaders are not only responsible for their own development, but that of many others as well. When I think about the areas in my life that I spend the most time reflecting, it is those in which I'm in a leadership position. It's my job as a father to lead my family well, and I am in constant reflection regarding what I can do better in that category. As a basketball coach, not a game goes by when I'm not reliving the game, play by play, decision by decision, while I lay in bed late into the night trying to figure out how to reach potential. The classroom is another place that demands my reflection, as I don't want to cheat my students. If one is called on to lead, he/she must figure out how to reflect effectively.

On a related note, reflection in all of us seems to be motivated by having someone to answer to (players, students, boss, family, etc). For Christians, this includes God. A higher power, and prayer to that higher power, causes those of us who are religious to reflect on our spiritual life, as we are certainly answerable to Him. In my life specifically, but also in others whom I’m around, it seems that when we’re only answerable to ourselves, we reflect less. We’re willing to let ourselves down much more quickly than letting others down. I’m sure I reflect regarding items that only affect myself; however, if I’ve got to choose, I’m also going to default to those areas that affect others. Wise or not, I don’t know.

Questions, Anyone?

2011-09-08T22:01:00.004-05:00

For my graduate course, “Philosophy of Education,” we’re discussing some of the major concepts of philosophy. Two of those are questioning and reflection. I’ve discovered through writing some of my assignments the following ideas that I thought I’d share here. Let me know what you think.

Regarding questioning:

One note I have written down from Dr.Walker's lecture is that questions are one way to obtain truth, but those questions have to be deep, probing questions. I think about the way much of our society uses questions today, and it's clear that not many are asking those deep questions, especially of each other. We certainly ask a ton of questions, but many are fairly superficial: How's it going? How was your day? What do you do? Did you have a good weekend? Hot, isn't it? Here we are making conversation, not truth. We already know the answer (or at least the one we expect to get) and are simply attempting to appear interested. Part of the reason for this, frankly, could be the way we now communicate to each other. It's fairly rare for deep, probing questions to be presented on Facebook, Twitter, text messages, and email. And even if there were, would we have the patience to answer? Or the time? No, deep, probing questions come out over a long walk, or a letter, or around a friendly feast with the television turned off. C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and a few of their friends got together regularly for beers, discussion, and mutual critique of their writings. They produced great literature that responds deeply to human questions. We sit around our laptops and cell phones, checking for witty one-liners.

Another way people use the questions they ask is as an "in" towards talking about themselves. I've never been more aware of this than with talking about my 18-month old daughter. She has a rare skin disease, so rare that we had to go to Mayo to even find someone who had studied it before. Fewer than 200,000 people in the world have this. There are visible spots that are a result of this disease, so we routinely field questions about it from strangers or others she is meeting for the first time. We tell them what the disease is, how rare it is, and what we're doing about it. I estimate that 75% of the time, the response is, "Well I (or someone I know) have something just like that," followed by intricate details of skin lesions. I've caught myself doing it as well in conversations with others, listening in for an opening to share about my experiences. Now I've tried to discipline myself to always ask at least one more question after someone has answered a question of mine towards them. It's been liberating, not trying to desperately fling myself into conversations every chance I get.

If truth requires questions, then questions require a curiosity to discover new truths. This is not easy, and I don't think many people really want this. The phrase “ignorance is bliss” exists specifically because of the consequences of knowledge. And it’s these same consequences that make most adults, no matter how much they don’t want to admit it, as adamantly opposed to losing their ignorance. If what we know is true, we don’t have to change anything. Add something new or contrary to our existing knowledge, and then we might have to change our actions. Change is hard. I once had someone give me the advice of "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to." I believe most of us take that to heart. We don't want to know that we've got it all wrong, that there is evidence against our beliefs, or that there is a better way of doing things.

Also, it is essential for growth to surround ourselves with people who are good questioners. And these individuals are hard to find. Without someone in our lives to push us with questions, to require us to think, to ask us to grow, we simply won’t reach potential.

No More Apologies

2011-08-31T20:35:00.003-05:00

We just started school here this week; and at the kickoff meeting for all of the teachers, one of my teaching friends was asked to speak to all the teachers in the district. This is no easy task, and she did it quite well. One statement that I really liked inside the speech is when she said she was getting really tired for having to apologize for being a teacher. We seem to be under constant attack, especially from state and federal government. Education is an easy kicking post, and one that's driven constant "reform" efforts for the last century.

Later in the week I was reading the American Literature textbook that I'll be teaching from this year. In some background reading about the Puritans, it was clear that the editors of the text took great offense to any group of people who dared to take religion seriously. Mocked by this "unbiased" and "historical" article, the Puritans were taken to task for their irrational belief that the Bible should be a basis for daily life. It was a bit frustrating to see, but not entirely shocking. Full of half-truths and an air of superiority from the writers, the article exposed the Puritanical sin of religious thinking as opposed to "rational" thinking.

Eventually I connected these two events in my head, and a thought came to mind: I'm also quite tired of feeling a need to apologize for Christian thought in our society today. Now, I'm under no illusion that Christians are somehow oppressed in today's America. However, I do feel an increasing majority demanding that if Christians are going be be open about their faith, they had better simply share it in a "faith-lite" can with great taste and a less "filling" theology. I'm done being okay with that.

Look at the political environment. While I don't support much of his politics, Rick Perry should not have to apologize for organizing a prayer summit. I will never vote for Michele Bachman, but she shouldn't have to explain why she "submits" to her husband and how she could ever run a country with the backwards view of marital mutual respect. And President Obama should never have had to answer to critics who had a problem with him inviting Rick Warren to pray at his inauguration. This is foolishness. Frankly, Mitt Romney should also not spend one minute explaining away his Mormon faith, either.

So I'm done. I will be proud of my faith instead of quietly rationalizing it. I am a zealot. I am "too religious." I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I'm not sure about evolution, but I'm certain there is a Creator. I won't say I'm sorry for having a belief system that I strictly adhere to and respect; not out of intolerance and bigotry, but out of faith in God's promises. I won't rationalize and explain the fact that I believe the whole Bible is the written word of God, not just the parts of it that are convenient and safe.

I understand that I spend a great deal of words on this blog challenging myself and others to be better. I point out weaknesses, and I also am not sorry about that. We must be better. We must hold ourselves to a higher standard and reflect on our weaknesses. Christians individually and as a group have made significant mistakes. But following Christ too well is not one of them. I can no longer apologize for loving Christ and trusting that He is who he says He is. I'm just not sorry.

Desperate Times

2011-08-28T20:28:00.002-05:00

I mentioned in my last post that I recently finished reading a book about C.S. Lewis and the radio broadcast talks he gave for the BBC during World War II that eventually became his classic book, Mere Christianity. The book goes into detail to describe the great lengths the BBC went to in order to provide Christian encouragement to England in some severely difficult times in the war. One particular bombing stood out to me:

"The orchestra could not cram itself into the small emergency studio, but Dr. Welch was determined that listeners should not go without their music that night. The microphone was placed under a table, and with bombs crashing all round the building, Dr. Welch delivered his talk, announcer Stuart Hibberd read quietly from the Bible and Paul Beard played the violin on his knees." (p. 77, C.S. Lewis In a Time of War)

This is an act of desperation. With bombs flying and buildings crumbling around them, huddled in some emergency studio because the normal one had been destroyed, these individuals knew just how badly the nation needed Christ at this time. They did not run for cover, seeking their own safety. They risked it all for unknown results. They were merely determined that on this night, during this crisis, England would not have to do without God. If there was comfort and hope and salvation to be found, they would be a part of it.

Where can this sense of desperation be found now? These men knew where their hope came from. There is no other reason to sit under a table a midst bombing, playing hymns on a violin, at the risk of great personal injury or death, unless you know deep in your soul where true comfort comes from. There may be no greater love for a nation than to abandon personal safety and comfort to provide what is so desperately needed.

And what are we desperate for now? What are we willing to go to great lengths for, to endure threats to personal comfort or safety? Football tickets. Political one-upsmanship. A great deal on Black Friday. An opportunity to check our Facebook account. Great abs. This is what I see passion for now, in myself and society. We'll stand in lines, give up sleep, offend friends, and devote countless hours to these.

How desperate are we, though, to provide Christ? How much are we confident that this is what our friends and family and neighbors and enemies need in the middle of all the storms in life? And when we do bridge that gap, do we do so in order to "win one for our side" and prove that we're right, or is it because we're desperate to provide comfort?

We're all thirsty. We're all desperate. All of us. The question, then, is this: what are we desperate for, and what are we providing to those thirsty souls around us?

Anyone Need a Tambourine Player?

2011-08-21T20:18:00.003-05:00

I've always wanted to be a live musician.

Ever since college I've been using that analogy to describe the perfect job. My perfect job will never involve a public musical performance, unless doing push-ups to the chorus of Vanilla Ice's classic "Ice Ice Baby" at weddings counts. However, I've always wanted to look like a live musician in a job I choose to do.

If you've ever seen any really good musicians playing live, you know what I'm talking about. The really good ones are not only fantastically skilled, they also make it look easy and appear to be having the time of their lives. They are beside themselves, lost in the passion and skill of doing what they love really, really well. When Emily and I attended Orchard Hill Church in college, there were two individuals there who were phenomenal. Both named Tim, one of them played guitar, and the other played the drums. They were unbelievable. I got a ton of joy just watching them play, and it is only a small fraction of the joy it looked like they were having making music.

This weekend Emily and I, along with my cousin and her boyfriend, went to see Blues Traveler play. John Popper, the band's lead man, was phenomenal. Another friend of mine was there, and while we were listening to Popper do things on the harmonica no human should be capable of doing, we openly hoped the band would be in need of a couple of tambourine players for their next tour. At one point I turned to my friend, an avid exerciser, and said, "Can you believe he's getting paid to do this?! It's like you getting paid for running."

And there it is. That's the beauty of being a live musician in whatever career field you've chosen.

I've also grown up a little bit since college, and I've come to understand a few things about this dream. First of all, no perfect job exists. No matter what job you are in, no matter how perfectly suited you may be for it, at least 10-20% of it you'll probably hate. As much fun as it looked like John Popper was having, I'm quite sure that he wasn't looking forward to all the travel required of him. He maybe even wasn't looking forward to doing the exact same performance, demanding the same energy level from fans, a mere one night later at a different venue. Even though this may be his perfect job, he can't be "live" (and therefore passionate and joy-filled) in all of it. And neither can I.

Secondly, I'm not even sure how instrumental my occupation is for this "live musician" dream/goal. A very good friend of mine stayed at our house for four days a week or two ago. We met ten years ago, and because he now lives in Germany, we don't see each other as often as we'd like. Out for supper with him and my wife on his last evening here, the question was presented to each of us how we had changed in the ten years since we met. After thinking about it, I mentioned that I think I'm a lot less career-oriented now. I'm less worried about climbing a figurative ladder and making a name for myself in some profession. All those things are nice, but I'm not as desperate as I once was for that type of recognition. Of a bigger priority is what my occupation allows me to do. I can't imagine what kind of job opportunity it would take to lure me away from a house I love in a location I love because of its proximity to many of the people I love. I'm in no hurry to "move-up" professionally. Life is too good in too many other ways. When I think about it, I get to be a live musician in many areas of my life. The dream isn't exclusive to work.

I saw this goal put into different words while reading a book about C.S. Lewis, an author who I would say writes like a metaphorical "live musician." In it, Pope John Paul II gave Lewis this praise: he said Lewis "knew what his 'apostolate,' his divine calling was. . ." This, in and of itself, is true of so few people in the world. But the Pope added one more thing: "And he did it." Another person, listening to Lewis deliver the BBC radio broadcasts during WWII that would lay the foundation for his classic Mere Christianity, said this: "Here was a man who was 'laid hold of by Christ and who enjoyed it.'"

This is what being a live musician is all about. This is the high praise of a life lived well - to know what you're being called to by the God of the Universe, and passionately and successfully doing it with joy. Not just in a job, but in an entire life, well-lived.

Change We Can Believe In

2011-08-16T14:15:00.001-05:00

I think there's a fundamental misconception about Christianity out there that I'd like to address.

One common criticism of Christianity is that it requires some people to become who they are not, forcing them to give up their "authentic self" to satisfy a God who apparently doesn't love them for who they are. Many looking for religion in their lives (or basic priorities by which to live, religious or otherwise) are trying to find a "good fit." The question becomes, "What works well with who I am, what I want, and where I'm going?"

Let me be clear to all seekers out there, to anyone interested in possibly, maybe, at some point looking into that Jesus guy; to all of those people who have grown up learning about that Jesus and are trying now to decide for themselves what a Christian lifestyle looks like; to all non-believers who look to scrutinize the faith and search for flaws; to all of you, and to the Christians trying to fit Christ into their lives, I say this: you absolutely must be willing to give up your "authentic self" to follow Christ.

Realistically, following Christ doesn't "fit" anybody. And that's really the point. Christ is offering you something vastly different than what you have now. The offer, but also the requirement, is that you become a completely different person. You cannot be who you are now, find Christ, and then not change. And you won't want to.

If you don't want to change, Christianity is not for you. Christ is not in the business of taking you as you are and letting you stay that way. Nor is he in the business of finding a way to fit into your existing life, of taking up a tiny corner that still has some room, of being taken out at convenient times and put back away when the singing and clapping is over. Following Christ will never be a convenience. You are told to put to death your "self" and all its longings, live sacrificially for the benefit of those who at best don't know you and at worst persecute and hate you. You are told to submit - to parents, then to your spouse, also to your boss and your government.

People seem shocked by this and cite it as a reason to avoid the faith. But how shocking is it? What can you really achieve in life without becoming a different person? Personally, when I was in high school, I wanted to be an athlete. That required me to be a vastly different person - I had to become stronger, more aggressive, more skilled, and tougher mentally. I did this through a lot of hard work and repetition of activities that usually weren't a lot of fun. I did all of this so I could go from being a terrible athlete to at least an average one. When I recount that story, nobody is thinking, "How unfair! Why did you have to become something different than yourself to get what you wanted? Why didn't your coaches just value you for who you are? This is outrageous and bigoted!"

I had to become something different than what I was in order to be a teacher, a marathon runner, a husband, a father, an assistant basketball coach, and a user of power tools. I had to change, grow, adapt, etc. in order to be successful. When I refused to adapt, when I tried to be "who I am" with the same skills and knowledge and priorities, I failed. No one is shocked by this. This is how life works. The Christian faith is only slightly different.

With Christ, the offer is not success. The offer is eternal happiness and contentment. It's not comfort or money or praise, but it is a chance to be better and more joy-filled than through any other offer, anywhere. No, Christianity will not fit your lifestyle. It will not embrace who your "authentic self" is.

Christ wants much more than that for us.

First Words

2011-08-14T15:37:00.003-05:00

The other evening a friend called me.

It was another perfect evening on my front patio: 8 pm, the girls in bed, a quiet and comfortable evening outdoors with a good book in my hand. When the phone rang and I saw who it was, my first words were not about the near perfection I was experiencing. Instead I immediately mentioned that someone a couple of blocks away had apparently just acquired a drum set and they were interrupting the silence of the neighborhood. I was being inconvenienced, and I told him about it.

"How's the rest of your night, going?" he then asked. I recounted the events of our "bath night" for the girls at the house. In my rendition of the events, I left out my two beautiful children, my wife, and the time we got to spend together. I mentioned instead the chaos and how it was also an inconvenience of epic proportions.

"So what have you been up to the last couple of weeks?" was the next question. I mentioned my recent grad class, the horror of the experience, and how burned out I was about it.

My first words on the phone that night were all complaints. And all utterly stupid.

In this particular phone conversation, my friend was calling to let me know about a tragic event in his life. He had real problems, unspeakable problems, with pain I can't even fathom. He called me, his friend, looking for support. Instead he got trivial complaints.

In those opening five minutes it's possible that I lost a lot of credibility. My first words in that phone conversation indicated that I have absolutely no perspective in my life. I am one of the most blessed people in the world living a rewarding, comfortable lifestyle in which I am surrounded by people who love me. And I stupidly complained about a drum set three blocks away.

It's easy to complain. Too easy. Unfortunately, it seems like many people open conversations that way and end up in some sort of complaint competition, serious or not, sharing in varying degree of detail and dependability the inconveniences in their life.

There are times to share real hardships. I'm a big believer in honesty, and I don't think it's appropriate to answer the question "How is your day going?" with a lie of "Good, and you?" to satisfy social norms. However, first words must be carefully chosen. First words in all conversations need to respect the fact that you don't know what the person you're speaking with needs right now. You don't know what they've experienced, and you don't know why they want to talk.

The only thing you do know is that they don't need your complaints. Not in your first words. Especially when, like me, you really have nothing to complain about.

The Danger of Efficiency

2011-08-05T14:04:00.002-05:00

Catching up on a few blogs I follow the other day, I found a common theme running through some of them: the quest for efficiency.

Perhaps my greatest flaw, or at least the one obstacle I consistently put in my own way, is the habit of over-scheduling commitments. I put myself in the middle of 3-4 activities at a time while also trying to maintain physical, spiritual, and marital health. I also chase around two young children. All of this motivates me to seek the most efficient way to get things done. My blog reading, however, has made me reconsider. Consider the following:

One common strategy for efficiency is multitasking. This is not effective. First of all, brain research says the mind is incapable of focusing on two things at once; instead, what we're doing is switching (doing a little of one thing and then a little of another). First of all, it doesn't work: on average people spend 50% more time on the tasks while "switching." Worse yet, it forces our brain into a state of continuous partial attention. We become less able to focus on one thing. This is disastrous for relationships, as we try to talk to one person while texting another, or check email or Facebook while hanging out with the family. It's bad for our relationship with God as well: "We do not want to be efficient worshipers, driven by a desire to get more of God in a shorter amount of time. We do not want to be hurried worshipers who value speed over quality." (See post)
Our quest for efficiency also often keeps us from being generous. While we usually think of being generous with our money and resources, generosity is also a virtue requiring our energy as well. Instead of being generous with our time and energy and attention, efficiency inspires stinginess. Hurriedly getting through items on a to-do list, for myself anyway, usually makes me much less likely to listen to those I love or to those I am called to serve. (See post)
Tony Dungy, speaking about his current Bible-reading, referenced I Corinthians 13, what some would call the "love chapter." He said that what stood out to him was "Love is not irritable" (verse 5). We are fundamentally incapable, then, of loving others while being irritable. And the number one way I often get myself into a state of irritability is when I'm interrupted while trying to be efficient with my workload.

Perhaps efficiency isn't all it's cracked up to be. Writes Matt Perman, "Make it your first priority to seek that which serves others and benefits them; let efficiency be the second consideration, not the first."

When Good Times Come to an End. . .

2011-08-03T23:02:00.004-05:00

Tonight's blog I'm addressing to those for whom life is going quite well at this point in time.

It's not that I don't care about those who are struggling; I just don't know what to say to you. I have yet to come up with words that are effective in actually making someone feel better when things are at their worst. I think back to some really rough patches in my life, and I can't recall one time where someone's words were exactly what I needed to hear. When tragedy strikes, no words seem to matter.

However, when things are going well, most people (including myself) are pretty willing to listen to anything, even advice. In tonight's personal Bible reading, I came across a couple of statements that I thought were remarkably applicable to people when they are struggling. I'm not struggling now - I actually have it quite good - but when I read the words I hoped that I would remember them when times are tough and I don't know where to go.

The first is in Job. Job has just lost all his riches and all his children. Everything important in his life is gone. Job's response, when others tell him to complain: "Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?" These are wise words, and they are words to take heed of when gargantuan trials strike. However, when I've had those huge trials, if someone were to have quoted that verse to me and told me it would all be okay, I might have punched them in the face. These are words you don't want to hear when you're in the metaphorical depths of hell. That's why those of us who are not currently in those metaphorical depths would find it wise to learn that truth now, and remember it later.

The second quote came from Psalm 121:7 -

"The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;

He shall preserve your soul."

The promise isn't that, as Christians, we can expect an easy life where everything goes well. The promise is that our soul will be preserved, which is far more important than our comfort. When jobs are lost or money is gone or personal attacks are flying, this is important information. However, if you don't know this before problems arise, you certainly won't want to hear it when they do.

So for those of us who are fortunate enough not to be in pain or consumed by worry or fear or dread tonight, led us soak in this truth in preparation for the day when trials come. And may we remember that for those around us who are facing those trials, these words (and probably all others) may not feel like wisdom.

I would suggest a hug instead.

Part-Timers

2011-08-01T08:07:00.004-05:00

It is difficult to remember a time when I held more contempt for someone than I have the past month for the professor of my July graduate school course.

There have been rivals, for sure. The superintendent and school board president in Nebraska who tried to rid themselves of me because their daughters received the wrong post-season basketball awards, for instance. Or the school board in Nora Springs for giving away my basketball job here. An ex-girl/friend, for a time. These have all been high on the list, but I've always been able to convince myself that there are some redeeming qualities to these individuals, despite their actions towards me. I have not, however, been able to attribute any positive attributes to my professor. I have convinced myself (with great help from her actions all month) that she is pure evil, perhaps even the devil incarnate.

I am wrong, of course.

I recently got done reading a book called The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie, and this text highlighted why I'm wrong. The book is not "absolutely true"; it's a novel, and one that I really enjoyed. I like Sherman Alexie's writing, and if you've never read anything by him (and don't mind a little PG-13 language), I'd suggest picking up one of his texts. This novel is about a teenage Native American who decides that in order to have any sort of hope in life, he must transfer to a white school off the reservation twenty miles away. This creates an identity crisis: at the school, all anyone sees for a time is the fact that he's Native American; at home on the reservation, all anyone sees is that he is a traitor who has sold out to white America because he is too good for reservation life. Junior, the book's protagonist, is a part-timer: he is not defined completely by his Native American heritage or by his"white" education. He is not full-time anything.

Obviously the book is about Junior and his experiences, but what Alexie does well is continue this "part-time" theme with other characters. None of them are full-timers either. For instance:

Junior's father is an alcoholic. Alexie is able to portray him as both an alcoholic and a good father. At one point Junior says, “Yep, my daddy was an undependable drunk. But he’d never missed any of my organized games, concerts, plays, or picnics. He may not have loved me perfectly, but he loved me as well as he could” (189). Junior also describes Christmas, when his father takes the only money the family has, leaves on Christmas Eve to go on a drinking binge, and doesn’t return until January 2. When he does return, in the fog of a hangover he gives Junior his last five dollar bill as a Christmas present. Junior’s response displays the situation perfectly: “Drunk for a week, my father must have really wanted to spend those last five dollars. . . He could have spent that five bucks and stayed drunk for another day or two. But he saved it for me. It was a beautiful and ugly thing” (151).
Alexie also shows how the popular and rich are not perfectly and full-time happy and content. Penelope, one of the most popular girls at Reardon and an object of desire for Junior, is the perfect example. One day Junior discovers the girl is bulimic. She explains to Junior that “everybody thinks her life is perfect because she’s pretty and smart and popular, but that she’s scared all the time, but nobody will let her be scared because she’s pretty and smart and popular” (108).
Junior is fiercely loyal to his friend Rowdy, despite the fact that Rowdy is almost the exact opposite of Junior. Rowdy is tough and prone to fight and break the law and blow off school. He is unpredictable and merciless in his commentary. But he is also Junior’s protector, so all his rage and violence and questionable behavior often comes in defense of Junior.

An author is doing a pretty good job of writing if they show the drunk as a good father or the rich and beautiful as the vulnerable. It's a rare skill because audiences don't want to believe it. They want other people to fit nicely into one full-time uncomplicated box of either good or evil. Like I want to do with my professor.

It's been said by some of my friends that it takes a certain amount of time to get to know me. My wife calls it being an "acquired taste." The ones who acquire that taste hang around long enough to realize that I'm not a full-time confrontational, brutally honest jerk who seems quite sure of his own opinions. I'm not full-time anything; I'm a part-timer, just like Junior, just like his father, just like everyone else.

Unfortunately, that means I'm going to have to include my professor in that category as well. Perhaps she is only 90% evil.

***Note: This summer I've added a new feature to the blog - my reading list for the year. It can be found in the right-hand margin. If you have any questions or comments about the books I've read, I'd love to hear from you.

Taking a Daughter's Advice

2011-07-20T20:07:00.003-05:00

"Elise, are you frustrated with me?"

I asked this question about an hour and a half ago to my almost 4-year old daughter after a very long day. Tired and refusing to nap, fatigue got the best of her today - there were tears because a train was going by, because she bit her fingers (twice) while eating pizza, because she tripped and fell three times, and because I punished her after she hit her sister over the head with a toy, said she was sorry, and five minutes later she took toys away from her and threw them across the room for her to have to chase. I had yelled a lot today and was visibly frustrated. Outside and alone on our patio, I asked if she was frustrated with me.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Why?

"Because you used bad words today."

I was curious. "Which bad words did I use?"

"You said doggone it and dang it."

"Elise, those words aren't so bad. We can say those words." She apparently forgot when I told her to use her damn fork to eat her pizza. I didn't remind her.

"Do you think I was grumpy today, Elise?"

"Yes."

"Were you grumpy, too?"

Sheepish, now, and barely audible: "Yes."

I then admitted that I haven't slept a lot lately, and that probably made me grumpy. I also pointed out that she hadn't slept a lot either, which was probably why she was grumpy as well.

"I have an idea, Daddy. We should ask God to help us tomorrow to not be grumpy and to get more rest."

And that was the profound moment of the day. Of the month, probably. July has been basically ruined for me in many ways by the most poorly run class I've ever had to take and the insane requirements for completing it. I wake up, read my assignments, and get mad. I do the pointless assignments and get more mad. I go to bed mad, worked up about how I waste four hours a day on this garbage. I've complained all month, can't sleep, can't write, can't focus on reading, and can't really enjoy anything without this black cloud of a class hovering over me. And it took four weeks and the advice of my daughter to get myself to this point.

If you believe in God, pray in the tough times. Even if those tough times, like this one, are somewhat self-inflicted.

May God answer our prayer tonight.

Refocus

2011-07-15T13:53:00.003-05:00

As I conclude this brief series of posts containing notes about spiritual disciplines, one idea jumps out at me in this whole process of "training wisely" as a Christian. It's easy, especially for me, to get caught up focusing on the self when working through spiritual disciplines. The questions one asks themselves is in what areas am I weak, where can I get better, and what can I do to be a stronger and more effective disciple. These are worthy, but dangerous questions.

Assuming there are 20 spiritual disciplines one can work through (and I am completely making that number up), I think the "practice of servanthood" (today's topic) can be more important than all the others. In fact, you could probably focus on this one and ignore the other 19 and be better off than if you worked on the 19 others and not this one. Focus solely on the needs of others for a time, and it's amazing how close to God you can feel. In my mind, the more I can forget myself and my supposed "needs," the happier I become.

Some notes on the practice of servanthood:

To work on this, you've got to work on your own pride. At the deepest level, pride is the choice to exclude both God and other people from their rightful place in our hearts. It is essentially comparative in nature, and it destroys our capacity to love. You've got to kill pride and replace it with humility.
Speaking of humility: You will know you have begun to make progress in humility when you find that you cease to be preoccupied with yourself. Also, humility is the decision to let God be God.
Nothing disciplines the inordinate desires of the flesh (all the crap we want to do and shouldn't) like service. . . The flesh whines against service and screams against hidden service.
When Jesus came in the form of a servant, he was not disguising who God is, He was revealing it.
The reason we help others is not because we are strong and they need us; it is because if we don't help them, we will end up a hopeless relic.
Serve everyone, even the difficult people. The gap between God and the most spiritual among us is far greater than the gap between the most spiritual and the least.
If you're too busy to serve those around you, you're probably too busy. And too focused on self.

**(all notes come from Ortberg's The Life You've Always Wanted)

Don't Forget to Party

2011-07-10T21:04:00.002-05:00

As a tribute to my wife's family's family reunion that concluded this morning with church in a barn, I offer today's spiritual discipline notes on the practice of celebration:

The thing that often keeps me from experiencing joy is a preoccupation with my self.
Joy is at the heart of God himself - He is the happiest being in the universe.
Jesus' words to us: "I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete."
"To miss out on joy is to miss out on the reason for your existence."
Joy is not optional - it is a Biblical command.
"The joy of the Lord is your strength" (from the Psalms). Its absence will create weakness.
You must take responsibility for your own joy.
When we celebrate, we exercise our ability to see and feel goodness in the simplest gifts of God.
If we wait until conditions are perfect to celebrate or enjoy life, we will still be waiting when we die.
True joy comes only to those who have devoted their lives to something greater than personal comfort.

There is much to celebrate. Don't delay.

**(all notes come from Ortberg's The Life You've Always Wanted)

Hurry Up and Slow Down

2011-07-08T15:03:00.003-05:00

My first post from old notes on the spiritual disciplines comes regarding a discipline that I just can't get right. I've done a lot of things to get close to God over the past few years, but I've struggled mightily at forcing myself to do this one. Today's notes are regarding the practice of "slowing":

You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.
For many, the great danger is not that they will renounce their faith, but that they will become so distracted and rushed and preoccupied that they will settle for a mediocre version of it.
Hurry will keep us consumed by "the cares and riches and pleasures of this life" and prevent Jesus' way from taking root in our hearts.
Following Jesus cannot be done at a sprint. If you want to follow, you can't go faster that the one who's leading.
Jesus often had much to do, but he never did it in a way that interfered with his ability to give love when love was called for.
Love and hurry are fundamentally incompatible.
Solitude is the one place where we can gain freedom from the forces of society that will otherwise relentlessly mold us.

Great thoughts for me personally as I trudge through my July grad class. There are seasons in life that require a quicker pace than others. I don't have a great answer in how to eliminate hurry during those times. But I do know those times cannot dominate our lives. Unfortunately, this pace has dominated mine for a long time.

**(all notes come from Ortberg's The Life You've Always Wanted)

Drills From a Former Off-Season

2011-07-04T15:11:00.002-05:00

While rifling through old files searching for a document the other day, I came across some notes I took several years ago from the book The Life You've Always Wanted by John Ortberg. The notes are on spiritual disciplines, and an immediate connection came to me regarding these notes and recent posts of mine on this blog.

First, I recently extolled the virtues of spiritual disciplines, comparing them to ball-handling drills in basketball that even the most experienced and talented players still complete. Secondly, I recently wrote about the importance of using the off-seasons of life to prepare for "game days" when there is no time to prepare. I am currently right smack dab in the middle of a game day as I move from June (umpiring and basketball month) to July (grad school month). I've begun a class that I'm growing to hate more and more by the day and that is demanding about 3-4 hours a day. I need the reminders from these notes. I did the heavy lifting by reading the book and taking notes many years ago. I need to use that preparation now to be effective in a time when I can't really "train."

I've decided the next few posts, then, will be some of these notes. It will help me use my prior training, and hopefully it will encourage many of you as well. I begin today with some notes about spiritual disciplines themselves:

1. Learning to think, feel, and act like Jesus is at least as demanding as learning to run a marathon or playing the piano. We must, therefore, train like it is.

2. Spiritual disciplines are not:

a barometer of spirituality or a way to earn favor with God
necessarily unpleasant

3. Definition of discipline: any activity I can do by direct effort that will help me do what I cannot now do by direct effort.

4. Definition of a disciplined person: someone who can do the right thing at the right time in the right way with the right spirit.

5. "A disciplined follower of Jesus is someone who discerns when laughter, gentleness, silence, healing words, or prophetic indignation is called for, and offers it promptly, effectively, and lovingly."

Lessons from Camp: Do Your Ball-Handling Drills, Even the Boring Ones

2011-06-24T14:34:00.002-05:00

To stay compliant with NCAA rules, the UNI basketball staff was required to show some of the drills they put their players through at the beginning of their camp to all the teams that were in attendance. While there's a lot of rules and practices from the NCAA that I think are ridiculous, I liked this one. While it's simply another hoop for UNI to go through before cashing the $450 check from each team in attendance, it was an opportunity for players and coaches alike to see what type of drills Division I basketball players use to play at that level.

The answer was a bit surprising, but it shouldn't have been. They showed us several ball-handling drills. These are not only the same or similar to the drills we have our high school athletes do, but they were also quite similar to what we have our youth players do as well. Basic, boring ball-handling drills.

As a coach, it was satisfying. First, it meant we were doing the right things. Second, it showed our players that it is actually that simple. They can't become Division I athletes without extended time working on fundamentals. Though many of them may believe they have become too advanced for something so simple as these elementary drills, reality has it that they will never be too advanced for them. Steady, focused work on fundamentals builds complete players.

It builds complete people too. No matter your profession or skill of choice, there is something simple and monotonous and probably mundane that you can be doing to improve. You want to lose weight? Work out, eat better, and maybe do something like writing down what you eat. You want to write? Get down on paper a thousand words a day. Read poetry. Publish something. Want a good bean crop? Walk beans (or do whatever is now done for that - it's clear based on my last post that I have no idea).

As a Christian, I can't afford to avoid the fundamentals either. I have not "arrived," nor will I ever arrive at a place in my faith where the spiritual disciplines are no longer necessary. Regular prayer, fasting, Bible-reading, tithing, etc. will never stop making me better. Conferences and speakers and Lent seasons and other "events" are nice and flashy and feel good; however, they will probably never produce the same consistency of results as those plain old-fashioned Biblical ball-handling drills.

***The June basketball camp season has come to a close, and this post will bring to an end my series on "Lessons from Camp." I hope you've enjoyed these posts as much as I have. I appreciate any feedback you have.

I'm Not a Farmer, But. . .

2011-06-19T22:45:00.003-05:00

I am the son of a farmer. My father's father farmed as well, as did my mother's father. I grew up in a farm family and spent many weekends and summers working livestock, baling hay, and learning to swear effectively. Despite all of this, I am not a farmer. Not even close. I teach in a classroom and gym. I blog. I read a lot and collect graduate degrees in my spare time. I'm pretty sure I would struggle to even drive a tractor at this point in my life.

I suppose there's a certain degree of guilt for not becoming a farmer. The farm that my grandfather and father farmed has no heir, and my father's firstborn son did not follow in his footsteps. Although he'd never say it, I've got to believe there's some disappointment for Dad that I never even showed the slightest hint of being interested in taking my life in that direction. But it was just never for me.

I worked hard during my youth on the farm, but I didn't learn a whole lot. I have no idea what a good corn price is. Or cattle price. I grew up with several toy tractors and implements, but I'm not sure to this day that I could say what each of them does. I don't know how to fix anything and can't name 80% of tools. I hear people talking about bushels and acres and how good the crops are testing, and I just avoid eye contact because I simply have no clue. And I probably never will.

That doesn't mean I wasn't listening and watching all those days on the farm. I was. And I learned something very valuable from my father, the farmer.

Something I do know about farming is that it's high risk, and many of the risks are completely out of a farmer's control. I've seen machinery break down, livestock die, markets crash, and severe weather decimate the crops in the ground. A lot can go wrong, and usually does. Because of this, farmers have somewhat of a stereotype of never being happy and complaining a lot. That's all right - so do teachers. However, through all of these ups and downs, day in and day out, I saw an uncanny stoicism in my father that I will spend the rest of my life trying to emulate.

When I think about all the difficult days my father has seen, both on the farm and off it, I can barely remember a time when he completely lost his cool. I have seen my father, perhaps better than anyone else I know, take challenging times and shoulder them without shouting or complaining or falling into a "Woe is me!" bad mood that others must simply deal with. He seems to just understand that bad things happen, often through no fault and no logical reason. And he's had to have been hurt and upset and downright angry at times because of some of these tough times. All I've ever seen from him, though, is him getting back to work. He believes in hard work and God, and that has seen him through many trials and tribulations.

I am not a farmer, and I don't want to be one. But there is one farmer that I want to be like. Through the storms that I cannot control and the unexpected bad news that I cannot fathom, I hope I learn to be like my dad.

Lessons from Camp: Use the Off-Season

2011-06-16T14:24:00.002-05:00

I wrote yesterday about teaching about mistakes at the UNI team camp, and how the message to my JV group at the beginning of Day 2 was that they shouldn't make Day 1 mistakes again. Learn and get better.

At the end of Day 2, I had another message concerning their weaknesses. Weaknesses, to me, are different than mistakes. Mistakes are faulty decisions; weaknesses are faulty skills. I told our group that after six games in two days, they had ample opportunity to see where they were weak in their basketball skills. There were plays that each of them were unable to make time and time again because of their weaknesses.

I then told them that the middle of June is a great time to display weaknesses. It's the off-season, the games don't count, and they now have five months to strengthen those weak areas. Because of these six games, they knew what to work on during the summer. I told them that if they want to be effective, if they want to be on the court and have success in the season, they must attack those weaknesses in the time before the season starts.

This is not earth-shattering coaching advice. I would venture to say that most coaches touched on this with their players at the end of that camp. What is earth-shattering, though, is that this advice isn't often heeded in daily life.

There is no real off-season for life. We're always living it, and our mistakes and weaknesses always matter. However, there are certainly times that are much more intense than others. Tragedies and severe hardships shake up our worlds and force us into times of profound stress. On the other side of the coin, there are unexpected times of great opportunity that rattle the foundations of our lives as well. And then there are days like yesterday for me when my daughter asked about whether or not Jesus was God or God's Son.

These are the "game days" of life. We may go months or even years at a time without a "game day" experience. Then one (or many) will come flooding in. The disadvantage here compared to basketball is that players and coaches can clearly see the season and it's game schedule on the calendar. The game days of life almost always come unannounced.

The teaching point is clearly transferable, though. It's too late on game day to prepare. You've either addressed your weaknesses during the offseason, or you've chosen to ignore them. This choice will almost certainly determine whether you are a successful and effective player during your "games." You will either be ready for them, or you will be sitting hopelessly on the bench, wishing you were a stronger player.

Lessons from Camp: Make New Mistakes

2011-06-15T13:55:00.002-05:00

At the UNI team camp last weekend, I was primarily responsible for our JV group, which was a group of incoming sophomores and juniors. I enjoyed coaching that group, as they were very teachable and seemed eager to learn.

The schedule at the UNI team camp is that teams play three games on Saturday and three on Sunday. On Saturday I did a lot of individual teaching. Younger players need experience and teaching, and they got both. Summer is great time to get that experience, as it's a low pressure opportunity to point out mistakes or ways that players could have done something better.

At the beginning of Sunday, I told the players that the theme for the day was simple - make new mistakes, not old ones. Whatever they had learned about the decisions they made on the court the day before, they should apply it on day two. I encouraged them to make a thousand new mistakes on Sunday, as that would be a thousand new opportunities to learn. However, they shouldn't make old mistakes again. You can't grow if you never change.

It's pretty easy to tell which players will be effective for us in the future and which ones probably won't be. The effective ones didn't make Day 1 mistakes on Day 2. They learned, they adapted, they improved. They weren't perfect, but they were better. And others wallowed in the same errors. They'll probably make the same ones in November and December as well.

It's not any different in life: don't make the same mistake over and over again. The book of Proverbs from King Solomon has a great quote for this - "Like a dog returns to his vomit, so a fool repeats his folly" (26:11). That's quite graphic, but it's with that amount of filth and disgust that I've found myself making the same mistakes twice. How many times have I strayed in my temperamental prayer life? Or let my anger or pride dominate? Or simply spoken too freely, which almost always results in negative consequences for myself and for those who hear me? As I type these words and recall my frequent revisits to my folly, I cringe and feel filthy. Like that dog.

Don't make Day 1 mistakes on Day 2. One thing this does require is a coach. We have to have someone in our lives to point out the folly, to show us our mistakes. I know my players didn't know what they were doing were mistakes. How could they? Only experience and a teacher could help them. They wanted to get better, so they listened. I wanted them to get better, so I taught. And here's what's missing in most of our lives. We have to be willing to listen to those pointing out our mistakes, and we've got to have someone in our lives strong enough to be willing to point them out.

I'll make new mistakes today. Probably hundreds of them. But I desperately want to avoid the dog vomit. I've been there before.

Lessons from Camp: The Word of the Day is "Adversity"

2011-06-14T07:16:00.004-05:00

During the week-long camp we run here in Mason City for kids in our program from elementary through high school, one of the activities we do at the end of each day is putting the kids on a team and playing 5-on-5. After an hour and a half of drills and skills work, the kids are eager to play the game of basketball (though often not using the skills we tried to teach them just minutes prior). We keep score and have the teams' records posted all week. Inevitably, the officiating is questioned.

By mid-week, our head coach had heard enough complaining about the officiating, particularly from the elementary kids. On Wednesday when the elementary session was beginning, Coach began by saying, "Guys, the word of the day today is 'adversity.' Does anyone know what that word means?" The 3rd through 5th grade crowd had a lot of guesses, but none were quite sure. As an English teacher, I felt quite good; we were emphasizing vocabulary skills and basketball together.

Coach told them that adversity was when things don't go your way, and sometimes you have to work hard to overcome that. Then he asked if anyone could think of any examples of adversity. One kid's hand shot up excitedly. He definitely knew adversity, he said: the air conditioner at his daycare was broken, so he was really, really hot yesterday. He definitely knew what we were talking about.

Eventually, after many other excited examples from the crowd, Coach brought it back to officiating. He let them know that they could plan on a lot of calls not going their way, and they should overcome that adversity by not complaining and just playing basketball. Basically, they should plan on not always getting their way, and they should plan their response when it happens.

At the end of the week we also attended a team camp at UNI with our high school players. Officiating at summer camps is notoriously awful. Those guys simply don't want to blow the whistle because every time they do, the game takes longer. At the end of one of our games, one of our younger players got pushed with two hands as he was taking a shot and didn't get a call. He got up angrily and shouted, "Where's the foul?!"

After the game I talked to him:

Was that the first time you got screwed by a call today?

- No.

Will you get screwed over again today?

- Yeah, probably.

Have you fouled kids today and not gotten called for it?

- Yep.

Then I told him that I was glad he was competitive and that frustration was a natural response. However, when you complain like that, you make yourself look childish, not competitive. I should know - I spent many years in my youth glaring at officials in basketball games and dusting off my knees to protest low strike calls in baseball. It was silly, pointless, and it made me look like a crybaby. I told our player to look like a competitor, not a whiner.

And there's the lesson all of us can use: quit whining and get to work. Misery may love company, and whining might acquire one a lot of attention; however, it's bad attention. In one of the most blessed countries in the world, we perhaps complain the most (to equal our sense of entitlement). The youth at our basketball camps are not out of the ordinary; instead, they are a reflection of our culture and all that it's taught them.

So the word of the day is adversity. Learn to expect it, and plan your response when it does come. If you or I don't, we're not convincing anyone that we've been cheated; we're just setting ourselves up to look like whiners.

Lessons from Camp: Get in the Gap

2011-06-13T15:17:00.002-05:00

I apologize for the 2 week hiatus - June is basketball camp month, and I've pretty much not been home for the last several days.

Having said that, it was a good week of camp in many ways. It's a good time to teach the game to players at all levels, and many lessons were presented. As I look back upon the week, I see that many of these lessons are transferable to life in general. So for the next several posts, I will discuss the top lessons from basketball camp. Today's post will focus on the phrase, "Get in the gap."

Our defensive philosophy that we spent time teaching last week asks for defenders who are one pass away to "get in the gap." Basically, if the man I'm guarding doesn't have the ball, it's my job to get in the gap between the person with the ball and my man so that the man with the ball can't drive to the basket, even if he gets by the man who is supposed to be guarding him.

This idea asks a lot from our players, and it's a tough idea to buy into. We're asking them to not only be responsible for their defensive assignment, but someone else's also. If someone else gets beat, we make it our other players' jobs to fix that mistake. Therefore, they've got to avoid worrying so much about their own assignment that they fail to see the bigger picture of what's going on with their teammates.

We need more people willing to "get in the gap" in life. Good families do this for each other. So do good friends. But it's rare. Too often we're too worried about our own assignment, our own problems, our own personal success to see the bigger picture of what's going on with those who are right next to us. We want to guard our own man, not help with someone else's when they happen to be struggling.

It's easy to do that when it's convenient, whether we're talking about on the basketball court or in life. On the court, when someone is guarding a horrible player who has no chance of scoring, it's easy to help off of them because the individual assignment isn't as tough. In life, it's easy to help when we've got time in our schedule or money in our bank account. When we are facing no challenges of our own, we're more than willing to get in the gap.

But on the court we're looking for every possession players, players who do what we ask of them on every possession, whether it's easy or hard. That includes being in the gap. Whether there's a big crowd on game night or no crowd during a practice drill, we need guys to get in the gap.

Our families, our communities, and our churches need the same thing.

My Child, My ROTH IRA

2011-05-30T20:50:00.002-05:00

I recently had my yearly meeting with my financial advisor, and he extolled the virtues of getting myself a ROTH IRA and maximizing my contributions to it each year. I don't really know what exactly a ROTH is, but I know it's good. We started one for my wife a few years ago, even though we basically could be building this retirement account on the future market prospects of VCR's and pay phones for all we know. And apparently, that was the responsible thing to do. We jumped into marriage and a mortgage and flat-screen TV ownership without having a clue either, but those also seem to be good things for adults to do that have worked out.

Anyway, it was made clear to me by my financial advisor that I simply cannot afford not to maximize my retirement contributions to a ROTH for myself. It's like losing money. If I am capable of simple math involving compound interest and conservative market speculation (which I'm not), I was assured that I could be a millionaire in my seventies. Then I could buy as many flat-screen TV's as I want. It sounded like wise advice. Then he made a statement that really stuck with me: every year I don't contribute to the ROTH is a missed opportunity. There is no way to go back and make up for not contributing to my future potential earnings.

I don't know why, but I remembered that statement a few days later when I was hanging out with my kids. I realized something. I can afford to miss some contributions to a ROTH. It's an opportunity I can live with missing. I might not become a millionaire, but I doubt that it will really matter. What I can't afford to miss contributing to is my children's future. If I thought the power of compound interest with money was impressive, it's nothing compared to the compound interest of reading and teaching and hugging my kids. Any day I don't contribute to them is an opportunity I can't get back.

The market will surely tank again, and people's retirement accounts will take a hit, my own included. There is little control I can have over that, just like at some point I'll have little control over my daughters' decisions. There may be days in the future when I feel like the account I've built up regarding their futures has taken a big dive. There are no guarantees in parenting. But I do know this - I'll never regret not getting to the end of my life and sitting on a pile of money. I'll daily regret it, though, if I come to the end and know I could have read one more book or talked about Jesus one more time, if I had only been less focused on money.

Notes: Dealing with Foolish/Frustrating People

2011-05-26T15:29:00.003-05:00

1. Paul offers this advice in 2 Timothy 2:23-4:
"Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you konw they produce quarrels. And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful."

If you want to be a leader, or you want to be effective, you've got to keep yourself from getting caught up in silly arguments. The other individual might be completely wrong, but who cares? They're foolish. More people will listen to your message (which, for Christians, better be Christ's message) if you can keep from engaging with foolish people.

2. In the same letter to Timothy, Paul later writes this:
"At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength. . . The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom." (4:16-18)

Paul here is telling a story about being treated poorly, and in the story he is passionately focused on God, not his oppressors. They are barely in the story. The only thing he says about them is "May it not be held against them." I've told a lot of stories about a lot of hard times. I usually say more than this about those I've pereceived have wronged me. Paul's approach is probably better.

3. If you like satire, this article (Nation Down to Last Hundred Grownups) is for you. If nothing else, this will remind you that the world is full of difficult people. Hopefully you and I can work hard to continue this "dying" breed mentioned in the article.

Misreading the Character List

2011-05-18T20:50:00.003-05:00

I realized the other day that I've probably been reading the Bible wrong for much of my life.

All reading of the Bible is good reading, but I've limited my understanding by coming to a fundamental misunderstanding of the character list. Here I am, a teacher of literature, and I've done myself a disservice by ignoring textual principles as a reader.

Here's the problem: my main goal for reading the Bible through much of my life has been to make my life better. As the Sovereign Lord of the Universe, I figured God had a lot of good stuff to say about how to live well. I looked for directions to take my life and answers to all of the immediate issues plaguing my mind. And that's where I got it all wrong.

I read this quote from the blog "Forward Progress" the other day:

"Often the Bible has been called an instruction manual for life. That's not true. . . (If it were), it's a bit like trying to piece together a model airplane using the picture on the box. . . The Bible is the means by which we might know God in Christ, not the details of our own lives. God is the main character of the Bible; not me." (my emphasis added)

And there it is, my great error. I couldn't even get the main character of the text right. I was reading, studying, analyzing, all to figure out the depths of a fairly minor character (myself). That's not what it was written for. The people who developed my truck's manual weren't hoping that I would figure out what to eat for supper tonight while reading about routine maintenance. And God's main goal in the Bible wasn't trying to teach me what career to pursue or what my summer plans should be; it was to reveal as much about Himself as possible.

I remember distinctly having a conversation with a friend in which I wished that each day I could walk to the mailbox and pick up a letter from God with the instructions for the day. No matter how crazy or sacrificial, I claimed I'd be willing to follow them. I just wanted Him to provide clear direction. I've wished that for a lot of years. But that letter never comes, nor will it. And that's the beauty. Writes Kelly: "He's forcing us to talk and listen. To even argue sometimes. But to know Him rather than just His plan."

My career path won't make or break God's plan. Whatever I choose to do, He can use. But lacking a knowledge and love of the real God might break me. In order to avoid that, I've got to remember who the Bible is about.

Eradicating Ignorance

2011-05-13T11:41:00.000-05:00

One of my recent posts paid tribute to Scott Warren, and I begin this one with one his catchphrases. When asked what he was doing on any given day in the classroom, a common response had the words, “Just eradicating ignorance,” followed by one of his pet names (not to be repeated here) for his stubborn students. Eradicating ignorance: it’s a great goal for all educators.

This is what I try to do every day, and most days in the classroom, it feels like I’m at war. The desire amongst many high school students is great to hold on to their ignorance at any cost, and they are up for the challenge. They fight new knowledge, new skills, and new ideas. Why? Because there are consequences.

The phrase “ignorance is bliss” exists specifically because of the consequences of knowledge. And it’s these same consequences that make most adults, no matter how much they don’t want to admit it, as adamantly opposed to losing their ignorance. If what we know is true, we don’t have to change anything. Add something new or contrary to our existing knowledge, and then we might have to change our actions. Change is hard.

This makes new knowledge about God even more intimidating. If I learn more about sin, I might find out I have some behaviors, habits, or attitudes that I need to change in order to be honoring to God. Knowing that I’m called to be Christ-like, the more that I learn about Christ’s character, the more responsibility I have to improve or build those qualities in myself. And the more I learn about theology, the more I might begin to question some of my longest-held and most-cherished beliefs. Especially if those beliefs are built merely on tradition, convenience, or “the way I was raised.”

With knowledge comes the burden of responsibility. It’s easier to not know about poverty, because then you feel no responsibility to help. Life is simpler when you don’t know about others in pain, because then you don’t feel a need to care for them. It’s more convenient to create an idea of what you think God should be, because we believe what he should be is someone who loves everything we do. Ignorance is much easier: it asks nothing, requires nothing, and means nothing. It’s comfortable.

Christians are called to more than comfortable, however. Ephesians 4-6 in particular has much to say about seeking wisdom:

You will be “alienated from the life of God” because of ignorance (4:18)
We are called to “find out what pleases the Lord.” (5:10)
“See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise. . .” (5:15)
“Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” (5:17)
6:11 - 20 encourages the Christian to put on the “full armor of God.” The list of this armor begins with “girding your waist with truth.”

Theology and studying matter. We cannot leave it up to pastors to study for us and tell us what we should know. We cannot be okay not knowing all we can about the truth provided to us by God. There are many confusing, troublesome, and intimidating topics in Christianity. To avoid these, though, is a direct insult to God and all that he has provided. In the richest country in the world filled with the most resources for learning and the most technology available in order to more conveniently access unfathomable amounts of knowledge, there is simply no excuse for ignorance.

It’s okay to be confused; it’s just not okay to stay that way. And too often we bow down to the idea of remaining “open-minded,” which is commonly an excuse for never having to learn enough to take a stand. We must seek to eradicate our own ignorance. Comfort does not await us, but the joy of knowing God does.

Battling a Mother

2011-05-08T13:38:00.003-05:00

As all children do, mine are beginning to perfect the art of battling.

Leah has always been a battler. She's stubborn. It's tough to attribute poor motives to a 14 month old, but I'm pretty sure she could walk for a good month or two before she started but waited just to spite me. She grunts and growls and will not move an inch if you ask her to. She waits until we're sitting down to get into something she knows she's not supposed to, then she looks over at us to see if we've got the energy to stop her. If we do, she waits until were sitting once again and returns to the battle.

Elise, the three year old, has also picked up the battling pace recently. She loves battles at meal time, even with food she loves. She engaged in a "sit-in," Civil Rights Movement style, in our bathroom the other day, protesting the fact that I told her to wash her hands after using the toilet. There are days when she is just looking for a fight.

My biggest problem is that my daughters have too much of me in them.

My mother and I had epic battles. I was a battler, and I fought hard to get my way. There were few areas of my life that I didn't feel were worthy of fighting for; and looking back, and I'm pretty sure sometimes I just liked the battle itself. I don't think I was a bad kid; I just liked to argue. Verbal combat was the game, and I was a relentless participant. Somehow, someway, my mother answered the challenge.

If I ever brought home decent grades, but not great grades, we fought. I used the weak, "Well I tried, you should be happy with that and love me anyway" horse manure response. She knew I could do better and told me so.

Homework was another source of contention. She'd always ask if I had any. I'd tell her I had "optional" homework, which was code for I'd do it if I felt like it and she should leave me alone about it. But she didn't.

One semester of high school I had a study hall first period. On late nights I'd beg to stay home and sleep in until I had an actual class. Who cares if I miss study hall anyway? She'd say no. I was supposed to be there, so I should be there. I came at her every time, with the same tired reasons and logic. I tried to beat her down. Every time she said no.

One weekend night I wanted to go see my girlfriend. There was an epic snowstorm, and I was determined to go. Mom said no. I carried on for a good long time, arguing about how wrong she was. And on and on it went.

Now I look back and see how stupid I was. I know what school is like and the expectations on students. I should have been ashamed anytime I didn't bring home an A. I'm appalled at all the homework that doesn't get done by my students now, perhaps even more so by the homework that does get done through cheating and half efforts. I'm shocked by the attendance problems and the unwillingness of kids (and adults) to not be where they're supposed to be. And I'm smart enough to stay out of snowstorms.

Too many kids today have parents who have quit battling because it just gets old. They get beaten down and frustrated. I don't blame them. I'm already tired of battling my 3 year old.

But my mother never quit battling. She never got beaten down (even though I may have made her feel that way), and she didn't stop asking questions. And I'm thankful every day that she did.

Chasing the Old Bulls

2011-05-07T14:34:00.000-05:00

Recently a familiar face came back into the school where I teach. Scott Warren, a friend who had retired last year, was back to sub for the econ teacher next door to my room. This occasion had a definite sense of nostalgia for me, because Scott used to teach across from my room, and I spent many minutes in between classes standing on the corner of the hallway with Scott and a few others. Having good people to have good fun with at your place of work is important. Having them to teach with is essential. And Scott is good people. On a lot of hard days, Scott made life in education fun. Frankly, there’s been a piece missing from the second floor at my high school this year without him.

Anyway, Scott was back recently. We knew he would be, so myself and another teacher made it officially “Scott Warren Day.” We brought in donuts and cookies. Bottom line - we had fun. All day I was reminded of how important the “old bulls” are in life.

“Old bull” is a term I became familiar with during my time at Nora Springs. While I won’t go into the story of the term’s origin, obviously it refers to someone with a great deal of experience. The term is a necessary one because those with a great deal of experience see the world and approach the world differently from “young bulls.”

Having an old bull like Scott Warren around made for a great day. The staff in my area seemed happier because he was around. Banter picked up. Full laughs replaced chuckles. There seemed to be more energy all around. And more respect. This was all because an old bull was around.

More than anything, I guess, I want to extol the virtues of age in this blog post. I’m certainly not saying anything earth-shattering by pointing out that old bulls are usually full of wisdom and are very effective at what they do. What I am getting at, though, is that I don’t think enough is being done to gain from the old bulls.

Take education, for example. It’s hard to find a lot of old bulls in education any more. Money drives just about every decision possible, so early retirement packages are thrown out to anyone who will take them. The decision is often not hard for the old bulls, because another common practice in education is disregarding the wisdom of experience to make room for whatever is new. I’d jump at the opportunity to retire early as well if I was constantly ignored as a resource and have my work mistrusted because it doesn’t conform to the newest reform buzz words of the day. Not only are classrooms being filled with inexperienced teachers, it’s rare for those without experience to be encouraged to learn from those who do have it. If the public wants to rail about the problems in education in America, we can probably start there.

I think of churches as well. There seems to be a lot done to keep newer, younger members happy and attracted to church in the name of growth. The trend for many churches away from hymns and towards trap sets and electric guitars is an example. This is only one example. When I was 18, I was ecstatic to see this. Now that I’m 31, I wonder what we’ve lost because of this shift in focus. How much are the old bulls looked to? I know that for the most part they are respected; but really, how many are used as resources for teaching, advising, mentoring, etc? And how many church members are eager to listen?

Family is another example, and it’s one that’s really hit me as I’ve thought about this topic over the past few days. I’ve always had the utmost respect and love for my grandparents. I enjoy spending time with those still living, and I cherish all the time I had with those who have passed. What I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of, however, is seeking wisdom from them. They have seen some things and lived through events I can’t even fathom. I’m 31 years old, and I can’t imagine my grandparents in any role but that of grandparent. I’ve never though much about them as a parent, as a worker, as someone who has faced and overcome obstacles I’ll never see.

Respect for grandparents and all old bulls is a great thing. It’s not complete, however, without respect for their knowledge as well. I’m committed to seeking out wisdom from those older than me. I challenge all my readers to do the same.

An Easter Sermon: Part 2

2011-04-26T20:46:00.002-05:00

My almost Easter sermon, continued from yesterday. . .

As I’ve thought about Easter weekend this week, I realized that I’ve always been sort of confused on how to feel during this weekend. For a Christian, this a sharp, bipolar ride. First we experience the sadness of the death of Christ, which also reminds us of why he needed to die. The horror of my sin is laid bare in front of the cross. I walk away from Good Friday mournful and guilty. Then Sunday morning comes, and we celebrate the great joy of the resurrection. We remember the glorious event that gives us assurance of our salvation. It is a sharp juxtaposition. Down and then up, depressed and then full of joy, Easter is actually a great picture of what it means to be a Christian: Lost in death and sin, alive in Christ.

One thing that juxtaposition has reminded me of is that the events of Easter mean that no matter how black my sins are, I can live up to the calling of holiness. Let me explain.

I can only speak for myself, but I think most of us never want to disappoint someone who has a high opinion of us. When someone thinks highly of us, regardless of how in reality we fall short of that, we try hard not to let them down. I was definitely this way with my grandpa. I was scared to death of ever letting him down, of ever doing something he didn’t approve of. I don’t know for sure how he saw me; that wasn’t the kind of thing that he talked about. But I know that he treated me with the utmost respect, like I was a man. He made me feel important and good and honorable, and I worked hard to never change his mind. I wanted to be what he saw in me.

It’s a lot like that with God. If you read the Bible enough, you come across countless descriptions of how God has a high view of us. He calls us holy, set apart, His people. We are cherished and chosen by Him. When someone picks teams and they pick you, you want to prove your worth to them early. God picked us. He picked me.

Really? Are you sure, God? Me, holy?

Personally, I feel terrible for not living up to this. I see the Sovereign Being of the Universe and what he says he sees in me, and then I look at my actions. I am ashamed. I am terrified. And I don’t think I’m alone. I think this is a big reason why many people avoid church and organized religion. I know it’s a reason I avoid prayer at times. It hurts to be a disappointment. It’s also a reason we’re so quick to point to the sins of others. If we can find someone we’re not as bad as, maybe we can convince ourselves that we shouldn’t feel too bad.

The beauty of Easter, though, is that all this has been taken care of. We are called once again to our expectations. We are reminded that God sees us as so worthwhile that he would sacrifice his Son for us. More importantly, however, is that we are reminded that we can live up to our high calling. We are holy, because we have been made holy. The punishment has been removed, and we have been washed clean. We are the chosen, the set apart. We can drop the guilt of the cross and of our failure to live up to expectations and instead rejoice in the Lord always.

A lot has been asked of us. Jesus, as an example for us the night before he died, lowered himself to wash the feet of his disciples. All of them. Even the one he knew had already sold Jesus’ life for 30 pieces of silver. He said to do as I do, to love as I have loved. This is a high calling. And this, with the power of the Resurrection, is what we are capable of. Let’s celebrate the awe-inspiring love we have been offered. Let’s live up to our calling. Amen.

An Easter Sermon: Part 1

2011-04-25T15:08:00.004-05:00

Due to several complicating factors, my extended family on my Dad's side considered having Easter Sunday church in my aunt's backyard. In an intimidating but flattering request, they asked if I would be willing to give a message. I accepted and put some words together. Due to more last minute complicating factors, we were unable to have said service in the backyard, so I did not deliver the message. Instead, I've decided to post it here. I will post it in two parts, one today and one tomorrow. Thanks for "listening."

Part 1:

Becoming a father was great for me, because I was no longer the center of the world. I knew that going in, and I had prepared myself for it. That wasn’t the difficult part. The difficult part was the fact that I had to explain the world to my daughters. There is so much of the world and human behavior that I don’t understand, that I continue to see this as quite a daunting task. However, I find that I seem to learn more the more that I’m forced to explain.

Easter is a big part of that. This is the first year we’ve really gotten specific regarding Christ’s death and resurrection with Elise. Explaining it to her has been a monumental time for my faith. I’ve lived to see 32 Easter Sundays now, and I’ve heard the events of the crucifixion countless times in my life. I will never say that the story of Christ’s death is boring; however, I had become so used to it that I had lost some of my awe for it. It had become commonplace, routine, or expected. Tragically, the story began to seem like it made sense, that it was logical.

Then I began to discuss the events with Elise. I told her that Jesus died on a cross.

“Why did Jesus have to die, Daddy?”

“Well, to take our punishment.”

“Take our punishment?”

I then explained to her about how we sometimes do things we’re not supposed to do. She could easily relate to that. I explained that when we sin, we deserve to be punished for that sin. Jesus took the punishment for all of our sins.

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of love!”

And suddenly I saw the events through fresh eyes once more. That is a lot of love. An unfathomable amount of love. He took my punishment, one nail at a time, and hung on a piece of wood with the weight of my sins and my daughter’s sins and your sins upon his shoulders as God the Father turned his back on him because there was no other way.

There is nothing common-sensical about what happened that first Easter weekend. None of that makes sense or is logical. That level of sacrifice, that level of voluntary pain, and that amount of love. It is shocking. It is awe-inspiring. “That’s a lot of love, Daddy!” Yes, Elise, that’s a lot of love.

There’s also nothing logical about that Sunday morning either, about a dead man rising, conquering death, all to prepare a place for us. The same people then who mocked and ridiculed and killed Jesus, the same people now who ignore Him, it is for their opportunity to experience pure eternal joy that motivated Him. To not understand this marvel and the intense, satisfying joy that we are offered because of this, to instead be satisfied with our hopeless attempts of mediocre cheap thrills to fill the void, to fail to be full of awe of what the Ressurrection has done for us is to erase this radical, sacrificial act of love from your life. And it is a dark life indeed to live without this event.

Notes: The Law, Tenacity, and Perspective

2011-04-17T20:01:00.004-05:00

Some recent notes from my reading:

1. Galatians 3:24: "The law was put in charge to lead us to Christ."

My thoughts: A lot of people complain about how restricting and limiting Biblical commands are, that it's really asking a lot to give up what God asks his followers to give up. This thinking misses the point. The purpose of the law is to help us create a lifestyle where more focus can be on God. The law isn't restricting, it's freeing; it gets the "self" out of the way so that Christ might be worshiped and enjoyed, a far greater pleasure than we can fathom chasing the cheap thrills we are asked to leave behind.

2. A paraphrase from a sermon by Scott Davis at our church regarding Philippians 3:

"We must move beyond event-based Christianity and instead run a life race (Paul's words: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God as called me heavenward. . ."). This is a race that must be run with tenacity.

Tenacity:

stubborn or persistent
holding together firmly (not easily pulled apart)
from Latin: tough, holding fast
marked by firmness of purpose
a quality of being determined to do or achieve something

This is how to run this race of knowing Christ and becoming Christlike - like a lifelong marathon requiring tenacity.

3. "In terms of influence, the problem is not that most Christians aren't where they should be, but that they aren't what they should be where they are." - Os Guinness.

4. "The more of heaven there is in our lives, the less of earth we shall covet. The fear of God casts out the envy of men." - Charles Spurgeon

One Hundred

2011-04-14T11:47:00.004-05:00

This is blog post #100 for Prone to Wander, so I thought I'd take a minute to celebrate and reflect.

To say that I'm surprised that I got to 100 would be a lie; I fully expected when I started this that it would be a priority and that I would write regularly. What I have been surprised about, however, is how hard that's been. Finding time to write has not been easy, especially the kind of time it takes to write about topics that others might care about in a way that makes others want to read it. There are times when the blog almost died, when I hadn't written for a few weeks. But it did not die. I'm still writing and more motivated to write than ever.

I don't know how much good this blog has done for others, but it's made a huge impact on me. It's forced me to be more reflective and more intentional in my spiritual life, challenging me to be on the journey that I say that I'm on. It's also helped me to focus my efforts and my thoughts. Writing requires a certain coherency, a pattern, and an application. It has to exist for a reason. It can be full of twists and turns and seemingly aimless wandering, but all those have to ultimately lead to somewhere. Writing this blog has gotten me to look at the daily events in my life (and in the literature and news that I read) and make meaning out of them. If God exists, then nothing is inconsequential - this blog has helped me to find the answer to the "So what?" questions in my life and aim each day in a certain direction. I firmly believe that good writing is public and for an audience, and I want to be a good writer; however, no matter what this blog is to my audience, it has been precious to me.

I'd also like to use this celebratory blog to post links to a couple of my favorite posts. It was hard to choose, as I feel so connected to all of them. However, here's a few that were memorable to me:

My Sermon in a Barn: "It's Not Me." (July 2009): The text from one of the favorite speeches I've given. Some of the most applicable thoughts on spirituality I've put together.

The Reality of "Here." (November 2009): This post and a couple of subsequent posts on the same topic is the first time I really took all the covers off and got blatantly real about personal struggles.

New Year's Confession (January 2010): The day I faced an addiction and realized I'm not as disciplined as I had hoped.

Health Care and Chainsaws (April 2010): The reason I love living in Nora Springs and near family, and my vision of what churches should be.

Seeing God This Weekend (May 2010) and To Be a Man (June 2010): Tributes to my parents, who worked hard (and still do) to raise me right.

Playing 1st Base: Marty McFly (August 2010): Anytime I can connect Back to the Future references with spirituality and church-league softball, it's a good day.

Two Steps Back to Make One Step Forward (January 2011): The post that has guided my path for spiritual growth for the past four months.

I'm partial to some of my more recent posts as well, but I'll let time be the judge of those. They need to stand for a while before I can call them favorites.

As for you, thanks for reading. I don't always know who's reading, and I do know that many of you often disagree with me. But I'm glad you're a part of this and let me speak through this blog that's meant so much to me. If any of the 1st one hundred posts have been particularly memorable for you, I'd love to hear about it.

Here's to the next 100. To God be the glory.

Somewhere Between Illicit Sex and Murder

2011-04-07T21:50:00.003-05:00

While reading a passage in Galatians recently, a text I've been over many times before, something new stood out to me. The passage contains a list of the "works of the flesh"; in other words, these are the big sins that get mentioned a lot amongst church folk. Adultery is in there, as is fornication, idolatry, drunkenness, murder, and the like. You know, the worst of the worst.

Tucked into that list, though, stands a word that often goes unmentioned: "discord." The New King James version uses the term "dissension." I did some digging on these words and found the following definitions and origins (emphasis added):

tension or strife from lack of agreement
state of disharmony marked by bickering and antipathy
disagreement amongst those expected to cooperate
disagreement leading to quarrel
Latin origin: "dis" (apart) + "cord" (heart)

This one got to me. How often are there sermons or conversations about this one? When do Christian commentators, when suggesting the degradation of society, use discord as evidence? Why does it seem like we'll talk about sexual sins and idol worship and hatred till we're blue in the face, but exhortations to refrain from dissension (especially with those whom we are expected to cooperate) seem rare?

They're all in the same list. Discord is sandwiched somewhere between cheating on your spouse and murdering your enemy. Paul obviously takes it pretty seriously.

Discord is everywhere. It's almost more common in two places that should be holier than others in society: the home and the church. We'll take great care to pray for our enemies or turn the other cheek; why don't we take the same care in preventing discord with the ones we love? Husbands and wives - what good is proudly avoiding adultery all these years if the marriage is marked by bickering and "heart apart"? Both are "works of the flesh." How many Christian homes and churches live day to day, week to week, in the dense fog of tension caused by a willingness to allow this discord to linger? Would we be this patient, this permissive, with scandalous affairs? With murder? The list is the same.

This is not a call to ignore wrongdoing in others for the sake of keeping the peace. In fact, in the very next chapter, Paul calls it our job to "restore gently" those who have strayed from God. Avoiding confrontation is not the answer. What this calls for instead is to move forward after disagreement; to disagree and then to love anyway; or to passionately seek the truth in theological disagreements without it causing strife.

After reading this passage, I took a look at my "Pray Big" list. So many of the items listed dealt with discord, especially in families. I see the pain in the list, and I understand why the word made Paul's writing in Galatians. This "work of the flesh" is indeed lethal.

If At First You Don't Succeed. . .

2011-04-03T20:29:00.001-05:00

My month-long challenge of praying big has ended with mixed results. I did get back into the routine of praying regularly once again, which is a huge plus. I also came to some realizations, including the power of prayer in gaining perspective and peace. It was a good month - I made progress on this goal.

I'm not ready to move on yet, though. For one, my numbers weren't great. I ended up actually sitting down at the keyboard to pray 19 out of 31 days. I know that prayer can still "count" (as if God is keeping score) if I'm not at my computer, but it's just not the same. If I'm typing, I'm focused and purposeful. The prayer isn't an afterthought. And despite the fact that I did pray for everything on my "Pray Big List" over the month, I only got in front of that screen for the purpose of praying just over 60% of the days.

Weekends were killers. That's counterintuitive; but for whatever reason, the days with no prayers were primarily Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. I need to find a way to make that less of a pattern.

Bottom line is that I'm simply not where I want to be, so I can't move on. I can't push my focus onto something new without the proper progress on prayer for fear of losing these gains in my spiritual journey. If I commit to another month (and make that public here), it'll allow myself to be held accountable once again.

I also want to take the month and make plans on how to act on my requests. I fully believe God can do whatever he wants, but I also believe it's my responsibility to care about my "pray big list" more than by simply praying. If I can act, I should act. I must go to God, but I also can't absolve myself of responsibility. I intend on finding ways to be a more active participant in making these gigantic faith leap goals possible.

I have another goal as well. I still have a ton of unanswered questions about prayer. Frankly, it's lazy of me not to pursue answers. It's not like they're going to fall out of the sky into my lap. Often knowledge requires work, especially knowledge worth having.

One question I have concerns the purpose, appropriateness, effectiveness, and Biblical basis for corporate prayer. Why do we have a couple hundred people bow their heads in church so that someone else can pray a prayer for them, just because they have the microphone? If God values authenticity, and the words being prayed are not my own, what's the point? Has this become a basic tradition in church, a way to pass from point B to point C in the schedule printed in the bulletin? That one has bugged me for years.

I have other questions as well, and I'd like to create a list for me to work on over the next several weeks. I'm asking for help from my readers: What questions do you have about prayer? What knowledge can I seek out for you, for us? It's not easy to believe in the power of something one doesn't understand. I hope for us to come to a better understanding together. Please send me your questions in either the comment box or by email @ shannondykstra@gmail.com.

Why Reading is Easier than Praying

2011-03-31T19:45:00.000-05:00

There have been a lot of times in my life when I've grown distant from God. Much to my students' chagrin, that's never resulted in some massive crime spree or drunken orgy or barroom brawl. I've been lucky enough to avoid rock bottom. I've simply forgotten or ignored God for a time and attempted to live without close proximity to Him.

Every time I've had to come crawling back. Embarrassed, stupefied, and Israelite-like, I come with my tail-tucked between my legs like a teenager who's well past curfew and is now trying to find a way to sneak back into the house, hoping nobody noticed they were gone. It's always awkward, and it's never fun; but I always feel better when I'm back. Life is just better when God's in it. The one benefit of making this mistake over and over is having a large sample size to prove that hypothesis. That statement has been tested and proved so many times for me it's become scientific law in my life.

When I think about this process about crawling back, though, I realize something strange. There are two parts of coming back and reconnecting with God - frequent Bible reading and prayer. Pondering this, I realize that the Bible reading is the easy part. I can jump right into that. The prayer, however, is tough. Scary. I've almost got to bully myself into it. I realized why today.

Psalm 199:97-105 has this to say about reading Scripture:

it makes me wiser than my enemies
the words are "sweeter than honey to my mouth"
I gain understanding and wisdom
it provides guidance and advice for the future - a lamp to my feet and a light to my path

With Bible reading, I immediately gain some very worthwhile results that feel good. Prayer doesn't work that way. With prayer, I, the unholy, must face the Holy One in great humility. I have much to confess; and my sin looks so black standing there in front of the Holy One, trying to crawl back into His lap and talk once again like nothing ever happened.

Prayer is the tough part, the longer road to recovery. But the rewards at the end of that path, my scientific law tells me, are well worth the effort.

Why Pray?

2011-03-27T19:48:00.005-05:00

Prayer is still a huge mystery to me. I took a summer back when I lived in Nebraska (no grad school + no kids = free time) and read about as much as I could on prayer to hopefully discover some answers. I came to a better understanding and unearthed a few nuggets of wisdom, but I've pretty much forgotten a lot of it. I'm still confused as ever.

One question I've always had is, Why? Seriously, what's the point? A few facts strung together really puzzle me:

God is omnipotent.
God knows everything that will happen before it does.
God is smarter than me.

If all that is true, why I am asking for anything? What's my role here? God knows what He wants and has the power to do what He wants. I'm a fallen human with a flawed perspective. I'm supposed to tell God to change His mind because I said so? Or do what He already decided He was going to do? Really? God needs a reminder? God needs me to bring to His attention world poverty and my friend's broken marriage and my weakness with pride? It doesn't seem to add up.

There are more answers than what I'll provide here, Biblically-sound and logical and motivating answers. I hope to provide some of these types of answers in future blog posts. What I have now, though, is an answer that my experience of praying big has taught me this month.

Experience tells me that God doesn't need all that. I do. Prayer is for me. What praying big has done for me this month is daily remind me that I'm not God. I need that reminder. If I pray, I remember that there's a lot I can't control and that I'm not the center of the universe. My problems and "needs" look minuscule. There is a whole huge world out there, and my day is barely a speck of dust in the wind. It gets my mind right where it should be - on the Omnipotent One who actually has the power to do big things.

Also, it keeps me from getting depressed. I think anyone, myself included, is really susceptible to depression if they focus on themselves too much. None of our lives are perfect, and they never will be. We'll never be talented enough, pretty enough, rich enough, or in love enough. It just won't ever happen. Our lives can always get better. When I focus on myself, I see where I fall short. I see what's wrong with my life, and I feel helpless about that. When I pray big, especially for other people, I want something deeply for somebody else. I feel helpful. I feel like we're in this together - me, them, and God - and someday we're going to feel pretty dang good about this because we're going to witness a miracle happening. I smile and think about a better life for the object of my prayer. I smile and think about the power and love of God. I avoid focusing on myself, and I find great joy.

God doesn't need prayer; I do. And I'm thankful for that lesson this month.

Notes: Power, Poetry, and Paul

2011-03-27T15:00:00.005-05:00

One practice I began several years ago was having a legal pad handy any time I was reading or listening to a speaker of some kind so that I could collect notes. I had become quite frustrated that I seemed to gather great ideas from texts and people and be driven to deep thoughts and motivations, but days or weeks later had entirely forgotten what I had "learned." There have been times I've been spotty at my consistency with this practice, but it's a technique I've increased in frequency as of late. I've decided that occasionally, perhaps every week or so, I'll list some of the highlights from my notes here on the blog. Hopefully you'll find value in at least some of what I've collected.

Here are some of the random notes I've collected lately:

1. There is a common divine leadership pattern in accounts of successful Biblical leaders. The pattern goes as follows:

God takes the initiative by looking for a person who will submit to Him.
He makes that individual aware of a need.
The need becomes a personal burden of the person God has chosen.
The individual feels morally compelled to act on it.
The individual calls others to join in the cause, often at great personal risk.

Ruth is one example.

(from John C. Maxwell's commentary in The Maxwell Leadership Bible)

2. "The most important single aid to my ability to use my tongue for the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ is allowing the word of God to dwell in me so richly that I cannot speak in any other accent."

- Sinclair Ferguson

3. "Poetry makes the half man whole by saying the things which he feels but cannot say."

- Clyde Kilby

4. "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God."

- Corrie ten Boom

5. There is no way to read 2 Corinthians 10 & 11 and believe that Paul is a skilled speaker, yet he was one of the most influential men in history. God provides the necessary skills. God does big things with small people. Do not limit God.

What Other People Think

2011-03-22T21:42:00.004-05:00

I came across an interesting thought in 2 Corinthians today.

Paul is writing to the Corinthians about why he and those with him are doing things a certain way. The passage seems somewhat trivial, as he's discussing strategy for bringing a gift and who is going with him to bring this gift. However, one statement here stood out to me:

"For we are taking pains to do what is right, not only in the eyes of the Lord, but also in the eyes of men." (8:21)

The popular response in our culture regarding what others might think is usually this: "I don't care what anybody else thinks." It's cool to not care. It supposedly shows a great independence, a "rogue"-like quality, a strong sense of confidence in who one is and what they do. Paul here calls this a completely wrong approach.

There is, of course, great value in not giving too much weight to what others think. Popular opinion should never drive our actions. Christians are even told in the Bible that they are to be aliens in the world, that they will be shunned and persecuted because they are not of the world. We aren't called to fit in.

However, Paul is saying Christians cannot afford to ignore the eyes of others; we must care what they think. While we don't necessarily need approval, we should strive for respect. It does matter what our worst enemies think about us and how the masses who despise our worldview see us. In fact, that probably matters most. We are representatives of Christ; and if our goal isn't to most accurately display Him to the world, we probably have misplaced priorities.

I've written down in my notes today what I believe is a good maxim to follow in word and in deed: bring no glory to self, bring no shame to God.

The Start of Something

2011-03-18T20:40:00.005-05:00

In my month of praying big, I've allowed myself one prayer for myself. One dream.

I've always wanted to write a book, but I've wanted that in the same way that I've wanted to learn how to play the guitar or become fluent in Spanish. Technically speaking, yes, I do want those things to happen, but not enough to do anything right now. Someday, I tell myself. Maybe. If it works out.

No more.

I want to write. I'm going to pursue writing at some level, hopefully eventually writing that ends up in a nice bound collection of 200 or so pages with some clever design on the book jacket and a catchy title. If those are stilled being made by the time I accomplish this. (I hope so; I hate the Kindle.)

I realize that by saying this publicly, I incur the risk of being asked, "How's that whole writing thing going?" somewhere in the distant future with nothing but a shrug and empty blog posts to point to. But that's good pressure. I do want this to happen. The more blogging I do, and the more I read from other people, the more I want to find a way. So I'm committing to finding a way. I don't know what it will look like, and I don't know exactly what, when, and how I'll get serious about it. But I'm going to click the "publish post" button on blogger in a few minutes, and this statement will be out there. I'm on the hook to get myself moving. I started by telling God and trying to get Him on board.

This is a dangerous desire for me and requires constant introspection. Do I want this because I want people to read what I have to say and give me praise? Or do I want this as an opportunity to bring glory to God? This blog itself is part of that. Obviously I want people to follow my blog. I want more and more people to read what I write. And I want them to think it's good writing and be challenged by it. But do I want that because that brings me value, or do I want the truth and love of Christ to pour through the words? Am I hoping for people to have a positive judgment of me as a person, or a clearer vision of the successes and struggles of an average Christian? It's a fine line to walk. And it's a hard question to answer.

Donald Miller had a great post about this recently. One excerpt I particularly liked is this:

As creators, when we seek glory from people, we drink from a poisonous well. We can get love from other people, for sure. But love and glory are different. Love from our friends comforts, but glory, that is the love of God that will be poured through our souls upon our reunion, is what we are really looking for.

This no doubt will be a long journey with many obstacles and rejections and probably bad writing (though hopefully not many impure motives). Of course, it could be a short road if God says He's got different plans. I can accept that. But I can't accept still saying 10 years down the road that I hope it happens someday. I want to be 10 years closer to my goal. So it begins. . .

I Got Your Back

2011-03-16T15:35:00.003-05:00

Part of the traditional American Dream is for parents to want their children to be better off than they were. Many people work hard to provide opportunities for their children that they never had so that the children can live better than they did. I partly subscribe to this goal.

I have no dreams or wishes for my daughters concerning money. I have no hopes that they will end up “better off” than I am financially. It is inconsequential to me. Frankly, part of me hopes that they will face some sort of financial hardship in their lives, a time when money is tight and they must make choices about how to use scarce resources and learn that their joy has very little to do with their bank account. If they end up with a great deal of money, I simply pray that they understand that to whom much has been given, much is to be expected.

I do wish for them to be better than me, however. Not with money, but with people. The other night on our drive home, I was speaking with Elise, my 3 year old, about the phrase, “I got your back.” I said it to her, and she wanted to know what that meant. I explained to her about it being a promise to be there for someone else, to care greatly about their happiness, to support them in tough times and celebrate with them in good times. I explained to her that as a family, it’s important for us to have each others’ backs. We spoke about how her younger sister, Leah, would especially need her to have her back. This is what family’s do.

Pretty much immediately I realized that I was perhaps the world’s worst person to be teaching this to her. I did not have my sisters’ backs while we were growing up. Oh, I played with them and interacted with them at appropriate times. I don’t think I was mean. I was just, well, absent. Self-absorbed may be a better word. Or perhaps jackass. I lived in my own world. I worked hard to achieve my own personal goals, and I focused solely on those goals. I had no idea what was important to my sisters when they were younger. I couldn’t celebrate the good times and support them in the bad because I really had no idea about any of their times, good or bad. I had goals, and I was reaching for them. I had nobody’s back but my own.

Now, there’s little I can do in support of them other than prayer. One is married, the other five states away. We’re adults - they probably don’t need much from me. I “have their backs” now, but how much can I really do?

In this way I want my children to end up “better off” than their father. I want them to know they can count on each other from years of practice, not hope that they’ll find support in adulthood. I want them motivated and focused on success in their youth, just not so much on self.

Elise and I talked about Libya last night. And Japan. She enjoys looking through the pictures of my Time Magazine. She’s worried about that mean king in Libya and the people he’s hurting and all the smoke in those pictures. She’s concerned about the people without homes in Japan. She’s learning the world is bigger than her immediate desires. In this way, with a global perspective and familial pride, her and her sister will be better than me.

A Change of Perspective

2011-03-15T14:40:00.002-05:00

Today is the 15th, so I'm halfway through my "pray big" month as detailed in my last post. This organized, purposeful approach towards coming to God with requests that require mountains of faith has altered the way I see the world in merely two weeks of work.

One way is with people. I have a list of nonbelievers whom I love and are important in my life that I've made part of this month long prayer journey. I seek their conversion desperately, not as someone looking for people he likes to join his team (I'm not the Miami Heat, and this isn't spiritual free agency), but as someone who wants to see their joy explode exponentially and their eternal fate to be secure. I love them, and I want great life for them.

Praying for them has changed how I see them and how I think about them. Most of the time, like most people I would guess, I see others in relation to their effect on me. It sounds terrible, but I think this is fairly universally true. My friends are my friends because they have something to offer me. This person shares my love of basketball, this person entertains me, this person is great to drink a beer with, this person makes my day more enjoyable, or this person treats my daughters well. Sure, I absolutely want to serve these people as well and be a person of value to them; but I think of them first in terms of how they affect my life. (I hope this is natural - otherwise I risk losing several friends with this blog post.)

Praying for them changes that. It makes me forget about me and see them the way God sees them. They are people of great intellect, passion, and ability; and they have so much to offer as a follower of Christ. More importantly, Christ has so much to offer to them.

I hope my prayer has as big of an impact on those I'm praying for as it does on me. I have become free to see greatness in their future, not great ways they can improve my life. In the end I believe that will make the joy of all of us greater.

March's Mission

2011-03-04T20:57:00.003-06:00

In my step-by-step, month-by-month list of personal improvements for the year, I've decided March is the month to tackle my goal of "praying big."

Realistically, I should probably simplify the goal this month from "pray big" to just "pray." That would be a huge step in the right direction. My life isn't devoid of prayer - I pray with my family at the table and before bed - it's just lacking focused prayer. This may be, in my mind, my greatest spiritual weakness. Prayer has been a years long struggle for me as I've attempted to understand it. Fellow Christians ask me to pray for certain problems in their lives, and I want to ask them, "Are you sure? Do you know how bad I am at this?" And as I rail against the idea of not living out one's beliefs, in the back of my head I know that I'm talking about me and my lack of prayer.

But I will not diminish the goal. I said I needed to start praying big, so that's exactly what I'm going to do. I don't need to baby-step this one with some sort of gradual nicotine-patch approach to my prayer life. I've already baby-stepped this one enough: despite the fact that I realize how big of a weakness this is for me, I've left it until now because I knew it just wouldn't be a successful attempt during basketball season. I basically admitted to myself that I wouldn't make time, so I should just wait until March. So here I am, with no where else to hide and no more excuses to use.

I made a list the other night of big prayer items in my life. Miracles, basically. I've got broken relationships, lost souls, hopeless scenarios, and pie in the sky dreams written on that list. I'm carrying the list with me so that as more come to me I can write them down. I've committed to praying through the list this month. My goal is to pray every day about a couple of items on the list. I've already missed one day this month because I fell asleep on the couch at 9:15, but I hope that's an anomaly.

I don't know what I'll achieve through this journey. I did acquire unexpected gains from January and February's focused efforts, though, so I'm curious what will happen in March. If nothing else, I'll certainly be praying again.

Velvet-Covered Brick

2011-03-01T20:19:00.003-06:00

I love Donald Miller's writing, own most of his books, and I regularly follow his blog. He's witty, honest, and not afraid to gore some sacred cows of the Christian faith. Having said that, Miller is definitely not Christ, and his books are not Gospel. I don't often take issue with statements regarding religion that he makes, but a recent post on his blog was a bit dangerous in my mind. A couple of troublesome statements:

"We are taught there are only two sides to an issue. This is, of course, absurd."
"The truth is not so black and white."

In a sense, I agree, in that it is important to understand viewpoints other than one's own and that there are indeed some complicated issues in this world. However, sometimes truth is this simple. Sometimes it is black and white, right vs. wrong. I don't think Miller is a wishy-washy Christian based on this post; however, I do think his eagerness for his audience to embrace these ideas provides freedom for them to not have to find truth in the world. Perhaps, it provides them freedom to never have to accept others speaking the truth to them in love, either.

I've heard this idea of speaking the truth in love to others called a "velvet-covered brick." Sometimes the people you love in life screw up, go down a difficult path, make inadvertent mistakes, etc. Sometimes you're the person headed off the deep end. Situations like this call for a velvet-covered brick. Love is telling people what they need to hear, not what they want to hear.

We seem to be heading further and further into a culture, especially in religious circles, that fear the truth in love. Miller sees Christians becoming too judgmental, too "black and white" on some issues; I see a trend towards less and less conviction in the name of inclusion.

I'm not calling for exclusion: if I was, I would lose most of my friends. Very few of my friends share my worldview. But I am calling for honesty and for a lack of fear in speaking truth.

I began reading Kevin DeYoung's blog this week, and I found something today that speaks to this issue:

"If there is no way to be simultaneously bold and humble; if there is no way to be a gentle, caring person while still speaking in clear tones about hurtful error; if there is no way to correct those who oppose sound doctrine without being a moral monster; if there’s no way to love truth and grace at the same time, then there’s no way to be a biblical Christian. Judgmentalism is a sin and Calvinists can be jerks. But not every judgment is sinful and not every truth is cruel just because Reformed people teach it."

I'm with him on that. Sometimes truth can be that simple.

A Matter of Convenience

2011-02-27T20:04:00.003-06:00

So this one might rock the boat a little bit. . .

I was made proud by my church recently. I was surprised to hear from an engaged friend of mine that she wasn't getting married in our church (both her and her husband-to-be attend regularly). Then she told me why: our church won't marry couples who are living together, membership or no membership.

A few around us heard the conversation and were appalled. They couldn't believe that the church would be so judgmental, so exclusionary; and they were more shocked that her and her fiance were still willing to step foot into that church. While I believe many were waiting for me to join in the chorus of boos, in my head I was thinking, Good for our church. My mouth took the middle ground and said nothing.

Before I get too far into this, this isn't a blog post that is an indictment on couples living together before they're married. I don't have the energy or the words for that kind of post. I've told anyone who has asked that I think it's a bad idea, and I'd counsel anyone against it if my opinion were sought. It usually isn't, and I rarely comment. This isn't about that. This is about sticking to convictions, even when it's not convenient.

I'm proud of our church in this regard because it is taking a principled stand based on its theology. They believe it's wrong to live and sleep together before marriage, they believe they are supported by the only Book they hold sacred, and they're sticking to that. It would be way more convenient for them to let it slide, to not ask the question, to marry all who ask, especially members. That would be popular and easy. But they don't. They don't want to hear about how much rent money is being saved or the fact that it's the 21st Century or that it's now the way of the world. Convenience doesn't rule their stance on this. I don't see a lot of this in churches today - most prefer to offer suggested "guidelines" than make their members uncomfortable.

I'm shocked by how much I see convenience rule the morality of the teenagers I see on a daily basis. They believe stealing is wrong, unless it's only a little bit and it's from someone richer than them. They believe lying is wrong, unless it will help them get out of trouble or pass a test. They believe in following rules, except when those rules infringe on their opinion of what the rules should be. I have so many students who would label themselves as "good kids" (as would their parents) who I see try to justify "little" indiscretions with illogical arguments regarding their own comfort.

I'm saddened to see the same in adults. Those professing no strong convictions or no allegiance to God have little to worry about. But if you say you believe something, you can't just believe it when it's convenient. You can't in one breath say that "God is love" and in the other cut down your spouse out of frustration. You can't say that you owe everything you have to God and then not tithe. And you can't say you believe in Jesus Christ and then ignore all the words of his that don't fit your lifestyle. People love to say, "Well, I just can't believe that a loving God would _____________." And they insert into that blank their version of a comfortable lifestyle. This is no faith at all. This is a creation of a God of convenience.

There are examples in my own life. One that really bugs me is not what I did, but what I haven't done. I've been asked several times how I ended up in Nebraska for two years out of college. Most of the time, out of convenience, my answer has gone somewhere along the lines of it being a good job with a good boss and a chance to be a head coach right away. These were benefits for sure, but I usually completely leave out the part about the day where I absolutely to the core of my soul knew that God told me I had to go. I like to tell myself I leave this part out because it might make the listener uncomfortable. A more accurate answer is that it might make me uncomfortable. I believe that sharing about God is essential, yet I've bowed out of easy opportunities like this out of convenience, out of my own weakness for comfort.

This post came out a little stronger, perhaps, than others have. Read no pride into these words - this sermon is as essential for me as anyone else. But I've grown so weary of the criticism hurled at the few still willing to take principled stands (even if they're ones with which I disagree); and I'm beaten down by a pluralistic, make-God-in-my-own-image culture. I had to say something.

Antidote for Cranky

2011-02-23T20:40:00.004-06:00

I came across an interesting blog today from the Desiring God website that provides great insight for fighting crankiness. That strategy is simple, yet it seems so effective: praise.

One quote in particular stood out to me: "When our mouths are empty of praise for others, it is probably because our hearts are full of love for self." I have speculated in blog posts this month that a focus on self and the unmet expectations that arise from a focus only on self leads to a majority of the anger and frustration and joy-killing attitude we experience. It stands to reason, then, that if I am focused on praising others, I will lose some of my self-centeredness.

If I think about it, I don't think I've ever been in a bad mood when praising someone/something. Whether it's Fazoli's breadsticks, inspiring man-to-man defense, a talented musician, or a great teacher I've encountered, whenever I lavish praise on them I become immediately happy. And that joy has very little to do with me. It's simply an expression of gratitude for the good things in life that God has provided. To praise is to be thankful; to be thankful is to be content.

Some criticize a God who asks to be praised. How foolish. To recognize and celebrate the goodness of God is to bask in great joy. It's impossible to complain when embracing beauty.

Battling a Father

2011-02-13T21:28:00.004-06:00

God as "Father" is a powerful metaphor, one repeated often in Scripture. I believe it has proved effective for so many Christians because of the comfort they receive from knowing they have a perfect, loving father-figure who also just happens to be omniscient. One can walk around with confidence when possessing that kind of knowledge.

Lately I've approached my views on that relationship in a different way. Instead of the focus on this relationship coming from the perspective of the "child," I've come to appreciate the power of seeing this from the perspective of the father.

My focus on maintaining peace and joy regardless of circumstances this month, along with my exploration of the causes behind me losing these qualities, has led me to this view. Over the first half of this month, I've noticed that my misbehaving children are the most frequent trigger to me flipping out. On my last post I wrote that the true cause of anger is entitlement and unmet expectations, and that's the case here as well. It's just that this is lived out most frequently in my children, especially Elise at bedtime.

Elise, my 3 1/2 year old, is brilliantly wonderful and fantastic and unbelievably cute most of the time. And sometimes she's a demon. She's become a "battler" as of late. I don't handle this well. I like control too much, especially in my own home. Basically, she's got too much of her daddy in her.

I was venting about our recent battles to a friend who also has kids, and we both concluded that the best way to feel clueless is to be a parent. You try and fail, try and fail, and sometimes you never get it right. You strategize and use common sense, and it often rarely works. It's so frustrating: I'm working hard for her good, to make her life better, and she wants to do it her own way. That's when I thought about God.

This whole "God the Father" thing is perfect. This is exactly what God has to be going through on a second by second basis in all of our lives. If I am the kid, I am certainly no better than Elise. How often, I wonder, does God try and try and try to work for my good, only to be thwarted by my own stubbornness? How often do I throw my own little tantrum about something stupid just because I'm tired, need rest, and need to trust my Father?

I love thinking about the Almighty as my father. But I can't forget about the fact that that makes me the kid, the source of his righteous frustration. Keeping that in mind should make me a better father and child.

Root of Losing Peace

2011-02-13T20:48:00.002-06:00

I've discovered a couple of things during my time in February of trying to focus on maintaining peace and joy, regardless of circumstances. The first is that when I want to maintain peace, it's not as hard as I thought. When I find myself in a position where I might have complained before, it takes about two seconds for me to remind myself that I'm not going to do that this month. Really, I've only said one thing to an official all month, and he promptly told me to shut up. So even when I forget, someone is there to remind me.

Granted, I haven't had any life-altering events that could lead me to the depths of despair, so it's not like I'm exceptionally battle-tested. However, that was true last month as well, and I was complaining then. So at least I know I've taken steps forward.

The second thing I learned is what the biggest source of frustration/anger/threats to peace is. I've tried to catalog the events that have caused me to get ruffled and lose peace. It's amazing how similar they all are. Ultimately, I've come to believe that unmet expectations are the great source of most people's (especially me) lack of peace.

When I get frustrated at home, it's because someone didn't meet an expectation. Perhaps I thought my wife was going to take care of something and she didn't. I may or may not have communicated that expectation; but if it was in my head that I expected something from her and didn't get it, peace vanishes and irritation rushes in.

I got mildly frustrated at an away game this weekend. I expect to get home late, as most of our games are 2 hours away. However, "Parent's Night" was scheduled for this school on this particular evening, and that event delayed our departure from their school by a good 45 minutes. My expectation of the latest I would get home was unmet. I got frustrated.

This is true at work, at home, for my plans on the weekends, and even during lunch by myself. When I don't get what I thought I'd get, I feel justified in getting angry and complaining. Which is stupid. When my wife doesn't do something I thought she'd do, I'm sure she has a great reason. And I'm sure that Parent's Night was important to those families (all 45 of the them) and a memorable evening for them. My problem in each case is the focus was on me and my agenda, not on others.

The bottom line here is that these expectations are merely a matter of entitlement on my end. This is the root cause of losing peace. The idea that I'm entitled to have an uninterrupted lunch or all officiating calls to go my way or to get done everything I schedule on a weekend is not only selfish, it's self-inflicting. Feeling entitled leaves no room for joy and countless opportunities for anger.

Sin leads to more sin. The sin of being self-serving, self-focusing, and self-entitling leads to the sin of living without joy and peace. The focus instead should be on God and others.

February's Focus

2011-02-03T16:02:00.002-06:00

It’s a new month; therefore, it’s time to tackle another “resolution” on my list from my first post this year regarding all of the areas of improvement I sought last year and continue to seek this year. Last month I focused on being God-centered in all that I do.

The results of last month are, well . . . not necessarily tangible. But that tends to happen with non-measurable spiritual goals regarding one’s thoughts. Here’s what I do know: I worked harder to stay connected with God. I forced myself to read more, even if it was in little chunks. I began to take notes again. I listened to sermons and hymns when I had travel time. I read a blog last week by Donald Miller in which he wrote that the key with goals isn’t the lofty end; instead, it’s the daily work you can say you will do in pursuit of that end. Commit to the work, not the goals. I did daily work. I can say that.

This month I’ve decided to target a combination of two from the list that seem very closely connected:

Have the “peace that passeth understanding.”
Exhibit great joy and faith and self-control, especially in times of adversity.

I’m targeting these for a couple of reasons. One of the reasons is because it’s the last month of basketball season, and I need to learn to shut up at times during games. My job as the assistant is to calmly, coolly advise. It is not to get upset. This is hard. Passion is one of the reasons I got into coaching, and I believe my passion made me into a pretty good coach. I can’t lose passion; but I’ve got to reign in the anger, the frustration. They aren’t helping, and they aren’t part of my job description.

A second reason is that I’m tired right now. It’s a tough stretch, coaching, teaching, parenting, and doing grad work. The schedule, especially with a blitz of Saturday games, has squashed mental health time. I’m cranky. I’m easily agitated right now. I need to stop complaining. One of the classes I teach just got done reading an article from MSNBC calling the U.S. a “nation of whiners.” Christians are called to be different. I can’t be a whiner.

For last month it was easy to point to the daily action that I would do to work towards that area of improvement. It’s tougher with this one. One thing I plan on doing is trying to keep a list of events that spark a fierce reaction from me, that cause me to display a lack of peace. I’m open to other suggestions from my readers about daily steps forward for this.

I also will follow John Piper’s advice from a recent blog post: in order to protect my happiness (both from successes and from suffering), I must focus on one fact: "Great is your reward in heaven." If I can see that big picture in the day to day grind, I should be much more successful in maintaining peace and joy.

Tiger God

2011-01-30T22:01:00.002-06:00

I read an interesting article in Time Magazine this week entitled "Tiger Mom" about a book written about parenting that's causing a lot of stir. In it, an American of Chinese descent recounts her "Chinese" parenting strategies that go against typical parenting behavior in the U.S. I'll leave my opinions regarding her controversial book aside, but one quote from the book that appeared in the article really stood out to me: "(Chinese parents) assume strength, not fragility, and as a result they behave very differently." Her theory, which is backed by psychological research, is that if you treat kids as if they can handle difficult tasks (as opposed to sheltering them from adversity), they will approach those tasks with much more confidence and skill. She has high expectations for her children; however, those high expectations communicate a great confidence in them as well.

I think she's right about this. And I think that if people listened to God (the ultimate Father figure) more, they would in turn have higher confidence to achieve great things in their lives as well. Biblically speaking, God approaches us with high expectations and high confidence. For example:

Christians are referred to as "holy" and "chosen." The Bible doesn't say we should act holy; it says we are holy, so we should act like it.
We are told we have an essential calling as part of the Church body; and if we don't perform, the body will suffer greatly.
We are told to be Christlike, and we are assured we have everything we need to accomplish that mind-boggling task.
We are told that to whom much has been given, much will be expected.
It is demanded that we not be lukewarm: don't be casual (especially with God), be passionate.
We are commanded to love sacrificially, especially our enemies.
We are guaranteed we will face trials, often unfair ones; but we are assured that we have the strength to persevere and that we will be better and happier if we do.

At no point does God say, "It would be cool if you could accomplish some of these, but I know I'm asking a lot." They are commands. If only we were listening more, perhaps we'd have the confidence in ourselves that God displays in us.

The article spent some time talking about just how unpopular in the U.S. many of author's methods are. In our helicopter parent, don't keep score for fear of hurting feelings, low grades harm self-esteem culture, of course higher expectations aren't going to be embraced. You can't be your kid's "buddy" if you're telling them that mediocre isn't good enough, that they can do better. Perhaps that's why these commands from Christ aren't so popular either. In America we don't necessarily want those demands on ourselves; we prefer a "Buddy Jesus" and a smiling George Carlin pastor (from the film Dogma) letting us know that "I'm okay, you're okay."

But that's not reality. Reality is a loving Father who says, "I love you too much to demand any less of you than your total joy." We can either pay attention and find that joy and confidence, or we can smile and quietly nod our head on Sunday and go out and survive another lukewarm week.

Image of Marriage

2011-01-23T20:25:00.004-06:00

Sometimes words can't say enough, not quite as much as an image.

In my current grad school class, I'm studying the genre of "graphic novels." Sometimes that means the comics on which my daughter draws on Sunday mornings; other times that means books with words and images; and other times, like this past week, it means looking at texts that are complete stories told only in images. One of the "texts" was a bunch of wood carvings that some French dude put together to tell stories. Basically, it was just a bunch of naked women. I know I'm supposed to find the symbolism in it; but really, let's call a spade a spade - this guy just liked to carve naked women into wood, over and over and over.

The other text I "read" this week, however, was quite good. It's called The Arrival, and it depicts the immigrant experience. It shows a fictitious account of a man who leaves his home (and his wife and child) to go to a completely foreign land to create a place for his family to live. It does a great job of humanizing the struggles and the fears that immigrants and refugees face.

One image in particular really stood out to me:

This picture is early in the text and depicts the morning that the man is leaving for the new country. This, to me, is one of the most realistic portrayals of strong marriage I’ve seen (or read). Hand-on-hand, their faces stoic and uncertain, they know that they face challenges; however, they are together in this. They know what must be done; they know this will be difficult; and most importantly, they know they’re in it together and have total faith in the other. This text reveals the enormous amount of faith required in this marriage: his faith in her to raise their daughter and be strong without him, her faith in him to overcome an unfamiliar world and prepare a life for them. This picture displays that faith magnificently.

One concept the professor of this course has tried to get across is that some images say so much more than words. I can't agree more in this case. I think of all the books on doing marriage well that are out there. None of them, I would guess, have better advice than this picture. Difficult times will arise. Tough choices will have to be made, and those choices will bring about challenges. While these two aren't smiling at the challenge they face, they are in it together.

I talked to a friend who got married recently, and he was telling me about the marriage "counseling" sessions that he and his wife attended as part of the process of being married in their church. He told me that one of the things they told him was that the first year of marriage is the best - that it's a yearlong honeymoon. What a bunch of horse manure. I'm lucky my wife didn't kill me in my sleep during that first year. I likely would have deserved it. Instead of offering advice like this and trying to talk this guy and his wife through what marriage would be like, they should have just showed them this picture and said, "Do this, and you will be great."

This picture represents every difficult task that a strong married couple will face. Very few are going to experience this immigrant experience, but it's not always going to be something that big. I talked to another friend this weekend who's now working two jobs and he has two young children (one of whom isn't sleeping well). His wife also works. I imagine that every morning when the day starts, when they're trying to find energy to be good at work and parenting, they have to look at each other as the husband and wife in this picture do.

I don't like to offer marriage advice, as I don't believe that anyone really has it figured out. I think there's terrific biblical guidelines that would make so many more couples happier than they are now. But if I have any advice to offer, it is this: look at this image, and be this image. If you show this kind of faith and commitment in difficult times, you will be strong.

Every Possession

2011-01-16T20:25:00.005-06:00

When you lose close games that you feel like, as a coach, you should have won, you look for ways that games should be going differently. So it was for me last week, after the loss I wrote about. I broke down tape of the game, possession by possession, trying to figure out why we were giving up points. I looked at all 70 possessions and charted what defense we were in, the result of the possession, and the mistakes that led to scores for the other team. The details that I found mean nothing to those of you with no experience in the intricacies of defensive strategy. The ultimate result, and the message to the team, was that in order to win we've got to place a greater value on every possession. There may not be a ton of things we can change; but if we can alter 2-3 possessions a game, the results could be dramatically different.

I took the same approach with my spiritual life over the last week or two as well. If I can analyze 70 defensive possessions to give our team a better chance to win basketball games, I can certainly look at the way I spend my "possessions" of time over the course of a day to hopefully create a better chance to be more spiritually and biblically effective. To start this year I listed all of my resolutions over the course of last year as points of emphasis for personal betterment this year (see post). I pegged January as the month that I would try to be more God-centered in all that I do.

The challenge with that lies in the time crunch. It's tough to stay connected with God with teaching, coaching basketball, two kids, and grad school. The hours just don't add up to get everything done; and unfortunately, time to stay connected with God is usually the (pardon the poor analogy) sacrificial lamb. I had to start looking at my "possessions" and find a way to alter some pieces of my day so that I could buy some extra time. It's one thing to say I'm going to focus on being better; it's an entirely different (and more difficult) thing to make that happen.

That said, I believe I found two adjustments that I could make. One, I started eating lunch by myself. I eat in my classroom now. By doing that I get twenty quiet minutes during which I can read. I hate a lot of parts of this plan - the food is the same every day, and I miss a lot of the conversation. However, taking this time to read Bible passages or biblical commentary has turned into a great part of my day. It's quiet, and I always feel stronger and more grounded in reality afterwards. The other thing I've done is take the 15 minutes from when I leave the basketball office to when I get home to listen to an audio book of a favorite pastor of mine on my mp3 player. This is no great sacrifice. Here in North Iowa, the radio is terrible anyway.

These are not huge steps. But they are steps forward that are producing in me a better ability to see God more in my daily actions. They by no means address the fact that I'm "finding time" for what should be the most important part of my life. But as I said, they are steps forward.

Every possession counts. Hopefully I continue to find ways to make better choices during my possessions of time each day.

Losing

2011-01-09T20:20:00.004-06:00

Losing sucks.

The only thing literary about that sentence is its concise nature, but I can't think of a better way to say it.

We had a bad loss last night on the basketball floor. One point loss. For many reasons, this was the worst loss I've had coaching in a couple years. Awful loss.

I've advocated several times on this blog for a high risk lifestyle as a response to my risk = reward philosophy about life. The more emotion, time, energy, money, etc. one puts into something, the greater the reward is when it works out for them. Also, that means that the risk of loss is greater with failure, as more is on the line. The more you care, the more it hurts.

Last night and today, I've been dealing with the risk burden in the above equation. Most coaches understand this. You go through the game in your head play by play, and each time you do, you hope to will the outcome into something different. You'll be driving down the road, talking to your wife, then all of a sudden you'll remember the game and want to rip the steering wheel out in frustration. It's a very "special" time in every season. And it's the price of coaching.

I've said before that I feel lucky to have something with this much on the line right now, something in my professional career that I can throw this much passion and energy and risk into. This loss confirms that. It's good to experience frustration and pain and vomit-inducing images of poor defense and missed layups at all hours of the night. It means I care. And it's good to have something to care this much about. It's the price of making one area of my life "high risk."

I figured something else out last night, too. If you risk enough in other areas of your life, it all balances out. We had a gathering at our place after the game. I really did not feel like seeing anyone after the game, but it turned out really good. A lot of good friends I hadn't seen in a while were there. We had a few drinks, told a few stories, ate a lot of food, and everything was great for a while. I went back to being frustrated once everyone left, but it was great to have a diversion for a couple of hours.

Last night, even though I lost the risk in the basketball category of my life, I reaped the rewards in the relationship category. Some people aren't willing to risk the loss of privacy or independence or deal with the possible pain involved in relationships. They operate with low risk (few relationships) and accept a lower reward. I discovered a few people that I work with this week that seem to be making that choice. They have every right to make that choice in their life.

All I know, though, is that when I lose in big risks in other areas of my life, it's good to know the rewards of those relationships will balance it all out.

Two Steps Back to Make One Step Forward

2011-01-02T21:32:00.001-06:00

The New Year is traditionally a time for resolutions, for a new, focused plan for personal betterment. I have no new no plan. I have no new focus.

This does not mean I’m not motivated to change.

If you read the Old Testament, the Israelites are a frustrating group of people. They are chosen by God and are explicitly told of all the benefits this includes. Then they screw up. They suffer. God fixes everything. They are happy. They screw up. They suffer. God fixes everything. . . You get the idea. They make the same mistakes over and over, and they look stupid. And they look familiar.

If you’re a follower of this blog, you know that I will at times use this as a forum for self-reflection and for points of focus for personal betterment. It’s easy to type about a plan or an idea; it’s difficult to live out that plan for a period longer than a week.

This new year, I look backward with the goal of moving forward. I’ve gone back through my 2010 blog posts, and I’ve found that I wrote about getting better at the following goals:

• Avoid an average life: be God-centered (especially in my coaching)
• Haste to bring him laud
• Have the peace that passeth understanding
• Pray big
• Have child-like faith: be curious and passionate and joyful
• Don’t fight alone, fight with God
• Be exceptional in the ordinary things
• Exhibit great joy and faith and self-control in times of adversity
• Fear the loss of God, not the loss of comfort
• Recognizing that I’m a tree in a story about a forest: I must care about the outcomes of others’ lives.

One mantra I repeat to my players is to not make the same mistake twice. The above list addresses problems I’ve made on an almost daily basis. To begin the New Year, I look to this list to guide my mental energies, my personal reform.

I can’t go after all of them at once. Being mediocre at many things is no good. I plan to focus on a new one each month. I start at the top. The next 8 weeks will be a whirlwind: I will seek to be God-centered in all that I do.

Happy New Year.

Haste, haste

2010-12-19T21:49:00.002-06:00

Haste: overly eager speed; a condition of urgency making it necessary to hurry.

My life, probably like many of yours over the month of December, has been a blur of hurry:

I wake up and hurry to shower and eat breakfast, so I can hurry up and get my girls ready, so we can hurry out of the house to get to the babysitters and work on time.
I get to school and hurry to get my plans ready for class so that I can hurry up and focus on checking the massive load of papers that need checked before the end of the semester.
I hurry out of my room at lunch because I know I have a 5 minute walk to and from the cafeteria, giving me 20 minutes total to eat lunch and probably start another pot of coffee for the afternoon.
I hurry out of my room at the end of the day so that I can get to practice on time, which is a rush now that our school day is longer.
I hurry home after practice so that I can hopefully see my girls before I go to bed. I often hurry through my supper with the knowledge that both of them need something immediately.
At night I try to hurry up and get to sleep (which never works), because I know I'm behind on sleep. This is especially true on nights with away games, when I don't get to bed until about 1, desperate to get a couple of hours of sleep before I must wake up and rush to professional development.
On weekends I rush to get as much done productively as possible once my girls begin napping, because I know it's the only real chance I'll get.

At church at least, I can't hurry. That's often hard because there are times when I sit there and think about everything that needs to get done. Then I rush home to get started on it all.

This morning in church I got all this hurry thrown right back in my face. 'Tis the season for Christmas carols, and one of the songs we sang this morning was "What Child is This?" One refrain that gets repeated in the song is this: "Haste, haste to bring Him laud." That one got me. My entire month has been full of haste, as chronicled above. But I have not been full of haste to bring Christ laud (praise or glory).

Of all activities, events, or tasks worthy of haste, there is none that matches this one. It is this haste that will bring the most satisfaction in a life too hurried to be satisfied with anything.

Risk Equals Reward

2010-12-05T20:58:00.002-06:00

I've been extremely pleased with the way the first 3 weeks of the basketball season have gone for our team. I really couldn't ask for more from the team - kids are working hard, this group seems to genuinely enjoy being around each other, and we got an opening night win that involved a lot of hustle, even when the outcome was far from in doubt. I felt really good about it. It was easy to feel good about. It's the best I've felt about basketball in a while.

The end of this week is the first I've really faced disappointment in the new season. We won on Saturday night, but I'd say we played far below our potential. Winning is a dumb thing to be disappointed about; but as a coach, you never want to lose the momentum of playing at your potential. After the game and on the bus ride home, I got a little moody. Quiet. A couple of things hadn't gone perfectly from a coaching perspective at the end of the week, including the Saturday evening performance. I was a little down, and I recognized the feeling.

The feeling I recognized was having something on the line again, and I haven't had as much on the line coaching-wise since the last time I was a head coach. It feels good. Don't get me wrong - I believe I did a good job and brought enthusiasm to my work as the freshman coach. However, I had less control over what was going on, which translated into having less on the line. The highs were never as high, and the lows were never as low.

It all comes back to a phrase that I love teaching my students as it shows itself in literature: risk equals reward. In every aspect of your life, you're either in a high risk or low risk setting. If you risk a lot of time, energy, passion, etc. into something, the rewards can be huge. However, so will the disappointment when it doesn't work out. You can avoid that risk, but you also avoid the chance for the big reward. Anything that doesn't cost you a great deal of risk will not produce an intense reward. This is true of hobbies, relationships, jobs, and even faith.

When thinking about it this morning, I came to the conclusion that I'm lucky to have the opportunity to feel down every once in a while. It means I've got a lot at risk. It means I'm passionate about what I'm doing and that I care a great deal about teaching 18 young men success skills that will extend to the rest of their lives. It means something is on the line again, and I have something to be nervous about. Trust me, life is a lot better when there's something to be nervous about. That means there's something great out there to gain.

It's like this with people, too, especially families. Family members can cause a lot of hurt, worry, or disappointment, both unintentionally and intentionally. I know that since I've had my two girls (or actually since we started to try to have kids), it's like I'm walking around with my heart hanging outside of my body, constantly exposed to the risk of something going wrong. But as much as I hate to worry, I'm realizing that worry is good. It means I've got something great, something at risk. I'd much rather have something to worry about than a carefree lifestyle empty of loved ones.

Losing will happen this basketball season. The season will not go perfectly. More than likely, something will go wrong in a relationship that's important to me as well. Burdens will be carried. But how lucky am I to have something to lose.

It is for this reason that the old hymn lyrics can ring so true:

Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

This Season

2010-11-21T21:00:00.002-06:00

The basketball season has begun. Every season has it's own personality, it's own existence, so to speak. This one feels different all together, as it feels very much like I'm on borrowed time.

When last season ended, I believed that I was done as a basketball coach. For reasons that I don't need to get specific about, I was ready to walk away from an activity that I loved. The cost had become too great, the reward too little. I wasn't ready to be done coaching, but I had made my peace with it. I ended the season, gave myself a month to think about it, then told my wife that unless something drastic changed, I was going to walk away.

Something drastic did change, so here I am, starting another season. I'm excited. I'm passionate. And after one week of practice, I'm having more fun that I've had in years. I also understand that my personal approach to this season must be fundamentally different than it ever has before.

For the 1st eight years of my coaching career, I put everything on hold until the season ended. Mostly, I gave myself an excuse to get myself out of physical, mental, and spiritual shape. I told myself that I would work out once the season ended and I had more time and energy. I would read books or catch up on homework once March came around. And I would swear to remember who God was and how I fit into an eternal worldview when I could just get basketball out of the way.

In the back of my mind, I can believe that part of the reason the mess at Nora Springs occurred which took me away from head coaching for a time was because I was holding so tightly to the job. I would say that I could lose all yet have Christ and all would be fine; however, I couldn't imagine my life without leading a basketball program every winter. My identity was wrapped up in being the head coach at Sutherland or at NS-RF. Without that, I felt like less. And I felt like if I lost that, I would have less in life. Unfortunately, I had a much tighter grip on this identity than I did on my own spiritual well-being.

Then I wasn't a head coach any more. That was a major blow to my identity for a while, but I adjusted. I was fine. The world didn't stop, nor did my life. I continued to coach; but as I indicated above, the cost of coaching became greater, the reward smaller. Last spring I thought I had finally learned my lesson - I learned to hold loosely to that part of my identity and realized that I could walk away.

Then the situation changed in a quite favorable way - a way that would allow me to use my skills and passions more effectively and work closely with people I enjoy a great deal. The reward was great again. So I'm back.

I feel like God is telling me, "Dykstra, you can do this. Go ahead if you want. You learned your lesson. But if you worship this again, it's your loss. It's your wasted winter. It's your loss of the exponential joy of focusing on Me for the cheap substitute of a much lesser joy. Go do this, but understand that your joy hangs in the balance."

Whether or not those are God's exact words, they are true. My joy does hang in the balance. I can have it all this winter - feeding my God-given passion for coaching basketball and experiencing exponential, eternally-driven joy in the process. But that can only occur if I see God while coaching, if I seek to bring Him glory and improve His reputation and build up the people I have influence over. Basically, I must stay in spiritual shape this winter in order to have it all. I can do this thing I am passionate about, but only if this passion springs from my passion for a God-centered life.

I want to do this job for many, many years to come. For that to be worth it (for my family, for myself, and for the players and coaches I'm around), this winter must be different.

Those with whom I disagree

2010-11-01T21:49:00.001-05:00

A recent editorial in the Des Moines Register prompted an essay assignment in my Composition class. It may involve one of the most important skills I can teach my students.

The editorial was bemoaning the current state of the nation and the fact that we have we have become a collection of homogenous communities. More and more, Americans tend to socialize, live, and talk with like-minded people with similar backgrounds, experiences, and even appearances. Unfortunately, the editorial even pointed out that a church growth strategy taught in some seminaries is based on attracting a certain "kind of people" in the church. The writer also wrote that studies have shown that the longer individuals are around others with whom they agree, the more radical they become in their views. Most Americans ignore "other" kinds of people with whom they disagree. It's just easier. And it's convenient when seeking to demonize individuals if you don't know them personally.

I had noticed in my Composition course sections, as we discussed controversial current events, that students struggled to disagree with their peers without getting personal, offensive, and incapable of reasonable dialogue. I don't write this to belittle my students; I notice many of the same behaviors in adults, even though I quit watching Fox News and MSNBC past 7 pm several years ago.

The assignment I created asked students to take a position on 21 controversial topics of varying degrees of severity. They then were charged with choosing three of those issues, finding at least two people per issue who disagree with them, and writing down why their "opponents" held those beliefs. Now they must write a persuasive essay using these arguments with which they disagree. If common sense and a desire to treat humanity with respect couldn't motivate them to listen respectfully to other students, perhaps their grade will.

I've watched these students over the past couple of days interview each other. It has forced them out of their comfort zone, especially in that they have had to speak with individuals who are not "like them" in terms of the unwritten social hierarchy of high school life. I don't think anyone's mind has been changed regarding specific issues, but that's a good thing. These kids should be strong in their beliefs. What they have done is have conversations, and most of them have learned that reasonable people can disagree. Honestly, it's been one of the most pleasant classroom environments I've been in for a long time.

Christians, I fear, don't do enough of this, especially interdenominationally. An old joke at our house growing up when we looked out at the cattle on our farm and saw half on one side of the pasture and half on the other is that one half were the Christian Reformed cattle, the other the First Reformed. Though there is usually respect amongst individuals from differing congregations and denominations in a "I guess we're in this battle with the world together," sort of way, rarely do the average members ask each other why differences in matters of doctrine exist. I fear one reason is because many simply don't know.

We also don't do enough of this with members of other faiths and with atheists. In fact, there's rarely much mutual respect at all. "They" are simply to be looked down upon, perhaps pitied, or more likely, condemned. This is, at best, a flawed path; at worst, it is a path that is losing souls.

Without rational dialogue, we lose the chance to influence others. We lose the chance to be Christ. We also lose the chance to better understand this world, a world we are charged to live effectively in, even if we are not to become "of" the world.

The number one commandment is to love God with all our heart, and the second is to love our neighbor as ourself. I don't think we'll ever really know the strength of our faith until we believe the term "neighbor" includes even those who don't look, think, and act like us.

I Want to be Misunderstood

2010-10-18T22:02:00.002-05:00

I think I might have a new goal. As if I needed anything else on my plate right now.

An old Sunday School song from my youth claims that "I've got the peace that passeth understanding down in my heart." It's origin is from Philippians 4:7, which offers "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ." I've heard or sung that song a million times without ever really thinking about what those words mean. For whatever reason, this weekend I thought about it.

I currently have a peace that people can understand, which is to say that I am calm and at peace when my life situation is calm and at peace. I'm in complete control of my emotions and attitude, except when I've been wronged. People love to hear from others the comforting statement, "I can understand why you're upset," or "I've been there; I know how you feel." Then we get to feel justified for complaining about our jobs or worrying about our money or engaging in hateful speech. This peace is not beyond any understanding - it's completely reasonable to be peaceful when all about me is peaceful.

I want more. I want peace in the storm. I want a peace that no one can understand, that people can do nothing with but shake their head and try to figure out the source of my calm, cool, calculated behavior. I don't want to hold on to hate when my employer cheats me out of money, or hold on to frustration when I can't get 15 consecutive minutes in a Saturday morning without a child crying, or hold on to fear when I hear my six-month old has a rare disease that none of the local doctors have ever treated before. In all of these situations in the past month, I've had peace and reactions that everyone can understand and/or sympathize with. I want more.

I'm not saying that there's never a time to fight. There are plenty of causes worth fighting for. But one can fight with peace. A peaceful fighter, focused on the purpose of the fight instead of the knee-jerk reaction, is probably even a better, wiser fighter. And that fighter is someone that people will follow because they simply can't understand where such a peace comes from, and they follow just to get a taste of it.

This peace does not just happen. I know that I can't just decide that tomorrow I will exhibit this peace and magically it will appear. A peace that passeth understanding is a supernatural peace, a peace obtained from God. In Philippians Paul writes that it comes from two things:
- through prayer, with thanksgiving, make your requests know to God
- whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.

I've written before on this blog about defining success. After pondering this, I realize I want more. I want to surpass understanding. When that happens, perhaps more people (including myself) will see God in the daily grind.

More School is not Better Education

2010-10-13T20:46:00.004-05:00

Lately, President Obama and others have been in the news calling for a longer school year. The logic goes that kids lose knowledge over the summer; and if we just cut out that summer break, they would learn more, retain more, and compete more effectively with students from around the world.

I have a problem with this.

My first thought (unfortunately but obviously) was to reject this idea because as a teacher, I would lose my two months of freedom. It's one of the reasons I teach. Don't get me wrong, I love teaching; but I would love it a lot less if I suddenly lost the freedom to do whatever I pleased for two months every year. Selfish, yes; but we choose our careers based on what we think will make us happy, and this makes me happy.

The more I thought about it, though, the more offended I got about the idea for more than selfish reasons. If you think about it, the government is basically saying that they know better how to raise my children over the summer than I do. They want to require my children to spend even more time being influenced by curriculum they choose and less time being influenced by me.

That's pretty arrogant for the government to say. Will my daughters really have a much better life because they did a few more math problems over the summer? Because they read another novel, wrote another paper, did another lab project? Maybe they would, but I'd like to have that choice. I'd like to choose whether to have them do math or take a walk in the woods with me. I, their parent, want to decide if they should spend their time reading or working a job or playing basketball or throwing rocks in the river, just to see them splash. I should get to decide that.

I learned a lot in the summers of my youth. I learned a lot from shoveling manure in the July heat, from lifting weights and playing in basketball leagues, from mowing yards, from dating, and from walking in the shadows of my father and grandfather. I'm not sure what educational standard or objective those events fall under, but I do know my life would be vastly different without those experiences.

If the government is so worried about this learning gap in low-income kids who can't afford "educational" opportunities during the summer, then subsidize summer programs and make them affordable. Provide them as an option.

But to mandate more schooling, more government control over the childhood of my daughters, that's the same as saying that President Obama and Arne Duncan and a lot of other flawed, elected officials know what's best for my kid, and I don't.

This may not be a faith issue, but it certainly is a moral one. And my moral duty as a parent is to want more for my kids' youth than trigonometry and book reports.

Size Matters

2010-10-05T21:25:00.001-05:00

I used a word the other night that I have no business using. In a discussion with my wife about some people who are important to us, I described their situation as "hopeless." The use of that one word alone was as big a sign as any of a disconnect with God.

How big is my faith? In this case my faith, or my picture of God, was quite small. To use the word "hopeless" is to imply that this problem is too big for God, that not even the Sovereign Being of the universe can change that circumstance. Oh ye of little faith. . .

The size of prayer matters, and I've decided that I must go big. I simply don't pray big enough, and that could be a sign of not believing big enough. Do I believe God is limited? Do I believe that God is only capable of actions that I can fathom, or that I can see myself or others accomplishing on their own? My use of the term "hopeless" would imply that to be true.

Last night I began to pray big. I prayed for many "hopeless" circumstances and relationships and souls. I prayed for them, and I believed God capable of them. God will choose whether or not to give me what I've asked. I'm not so naive that I see God as my own personal Santa Claus who will perform miracles for my individual comfort and entertainment. Realistically, I don't believe that all of the "big" things I've requested will happen in my lifetime. But that's has more to do with my lack of faith in my own limited knowledge of what's good, and less to do with the power I attribute to God.

If God is big, I don't have to worry about relying on my own shortcomings (or those of others). If God isn't, what am I doing worshipping him?

Actions reflect beliefs. Prayer is an action. And in this case, size says it all.

The Withdrawal Affects of Average

2010-10-03T15:34:00.001-05:00

This is my first blog post in my new office, and it feels good to get writing again. This new basement office is the source of my recent blog writing hiatus, as most of my spare moments over the past months have been spent creating the office and moving in. All personal actions have been pushed to the side. The work is done, the Panther memorabilia is up, and I'm ready to feel right again.

The danger in writing a blog about my faith is that I unsparingly lay it out there for all to see. What's on my heart or mind is laid out on the page (or screen, in this case). When there's nothing on my heart or mind, there's nothing here on the blog. My month of inactivity displays to the world exactly what's been going on inside of me lately: no studying, no real deep-thinking, and realistically very little prayer. Basically, no God. I may not have had time to write, but I also had very little to write about. Though I performed my daily tasks of working and fathering, I accomplished little else. While God was certainly present in spirit, he certainly wasn't a priority in action.

I don't say that with a ton of guilt or self-loathing. It is what it is. I say it because it's true, and because I notice the difference.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about addiction and its affects on people when they remove the addictive device. When most people think about addiction, it carries a negative connotation of something that an individual wants to quit. In my case, though, I've realized that I'm addicted to something positive. That something is God.

I noticed the tie-in because by the end of last week, I completely recognized the "withdrawal" symptoms in me. The crankiness that would accompany a tobacco addict's attempt to quit made itself prevalent in me. When I was wronged, I complained to whoever would listen. I became irritable quickly. I held on to grudges and wrongs. I saw flaws instead of potential everywhere I looked. And I couldn't really focus on anything.

My mind ached for it's addiction. I was worse off without my "drug." Don't get me wrong - I could function. I could be effective at my job and my home life. I could even laugh. Life was average. But I wasn't the same. I wasn't as effective. And I certainly wasn't as happy. As if I needed another reminder, life is better with God.

As I was rifling through all I had collected over the past 10 years in my old office, I found some interesting items. I came across old notes, letters, and items of nostalgia from a range of relationships over the years. The past is important, and I had almost forgot what I was like "back then" and what some of the people important to me were like as well. Frankly, I was surprised to see the number of references to God, especially from individuals who now seem to have dropped God from their vocabulary and from their priority list. Like me recently, I think God is present, though not a priority for them now. Maybe I'm looking at this with rose-colored glasses and only seeing what I want to see, but it seems like these individuals I've mentioned here were so much happier with God. They seemed to walk through life with a much clearer purpose, with much more optimism, and with much more amibition. I still love these people as much or more than I did years ago. But I see this comparison between them then and them now, and I'm a little sad. And maybe I see myself then compared to my "wandering" self now, and I don't like that comparison so much either.

Elise and I went to church this morning, and though communion was interrupted prematurely for me due to her bladder, I walked away with a renewed sense of urgency to feed my addiction. I don't want average any longer.

Public Faith?

2010-09-01T21:39:00.002-05:00

I read an opinion piece from Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post this weekend talking about the need for more unity in the nation as opposed to the constant polarizing messages doing battle (Ground Zero mosque, Glen Beck vs. Al Sharpton, immigration law, etc.). For the most part, I liked what she had to say. Her main point is that in the absence of leadership (and we are sorely lacking that from all groups currently), individuals should seek to retain the truly American ideas that create our national character.

Her list:
Be considerate
Tend your garden
Mind your own business
Lend a hand
Keep your clothes on and your hands to yourself
Honor your family and your country
Don't air your dirty laundry or vocabulary in public

Sounds good to me, if she had stopped there. But she added one more: "For God's sake, don't talk about religion." This, to me, would be a grave error.

First, I have learned more about my own faith and that of others from having reasonable discussions with people who disagree with me. Their faith (or lack thereof) is an important part of who they are, and to be ignorant of that is to be ignorant of their priorities. It's difficult to be a responsible citizen through ignorance.

Secondly, to be unwilling to talk about my religion would cheapen my faith. If my actions don't speak of my faith, my faith is small. If my faith is right, then everything I do must be saturated with the idea of glorifying God and enjoying him. If I don't believe my faith is right, I have no faith. To not talk about religion is to be lukewarm, non-commital, or even casual about it. I'm not casual about my love for all things UNI Panthers. I'm not casual about the Phillies. I'm not casual about my love affair with Nutty Bars and Kwik Star gas stations and Costa Rican coffee. I talk about these things. Nobody asks me not to, just because they may prefer Casey's or Starbucks. If I speak more about these, and my actions exhibit more about these trivialities, than I do about my faith, it is a weak faith indeed.

No, we must not be quiet about faith. We must have discussions and questions and hopefully even arguments. I read the other day that the real definition of love isn't making much of someone, but of giving them what they need. I believe the ones I love need God as much as I do. To not be ready to explain where my hope comes from is to avoid love out of the risk of feeling akward. I would expect them to share with me what they believe I need to hear. I must be ready to do the same.

The President's Religion

2010-08-30T21:23:00.002-05:00

I've been agitated a bit lately by the news.

A recent poll taken states that approximately 1/5 of Americans surveyed believe that Barak Obama is a Muslim instead of the Christian that he professes to be. These poll numbers have been reported and re-reported over the past few weeks, especially in light of the proposed Ground Zero mosque.

I'm a little disappointed that this is news. Millions of tragic, news-worthy events are occurring all over the world right now. I read this week about a village in which 200 women were raped and beaten in front of their own husbands and children by a rebel military group. There's a war going on in Afghanistan that few people in America have any idea about. Towns and communities ravaged by natural disaster are still attempting to recover. Anybody remember Haiti? How are they doing? Or Pakistan? How many Americans are aware of the trapped Chilean miners?

The public forgets what is not right in front of their noses (whether that be a newspaper or a facebook post). The media plays a large role in that. So why are we reading about the President's religion and whether or not he can afford politically to support this proposed mosque at the cost of all of the real problems that could be addressed by the general public? Is this really what matters?

I also realize, however, that only what sells is news. This is news because people are buying it - they want to know. They want information on the president's faith. Or rumors, at least.

Five or six years ago I would have never written what I'm about to write: I no longer believe the President's religion should matter. At least not as much as it does. As a Christian, obviously I align my worldviews better with other Christians. However, if I'm really a Christian, I should realize that God has complete control over this country, not some president. So what if the President is an atheist. Or Mormon. Or Buddhist. Does that somehow render God powerless? The Old Testament is full of powerful nations and powerful kings, many of whom were quite heathen. Yet God used them. To worry about the fate of the country if a non-Christian is President is to cheapen the power of God. Frankly, I'm more worried about the one's paying lip-service to God to drive up votes.

The question lately has been this: is Obama a Christian. One answer - yes. A better answer - it doesn't matter.

Is big government bad?

2010-08-19T21:41:00.000-05:00

I had an interesting political discussion with some family members recently.

I've learned enought over 30 years to know that it's best to keep one's strong opinions to one's self during political discussions amongst family members. Sharing ideas or offering observations is usually fine, but I've learned to not express strong political feelings with just about anybody if I want a peaceful day. This is easier now that I don't espouse any strong political feelings (other than a dejected demeanor towards both major parties).

Anyway, the discussion was on the economy and the government programs aimed at helping troubled individuals through tough times. None had good things to say about this. One family member, an employee of Wells Fargo, mentioned a government program that helped Wells Fargo renegotiate mortgages with people in danger of losing their home by cutting interest rates and lowering monthly payments. We also discussed welfare and unemployment payments. A great deal of frustration regarding these plans was uttered across the room: Why should those who bought too much house get a break, when those who made wiser choices and worked hard to pay their bills had to remain in their current mortgage? Why does our government continue to give welfare to people who purposefully avoid reaching a certain level of employment for fear of losing their welfare? Why do those who are out of work by choice and have quit looking for new jobs get to continue to receive unemployment checks, checks paid for out of the taxes from the salaries of the employed?

I can't say I blame them. It is frustrating, and the conservative in me has a big problem with these programs. The realist in me, though, realizes that if people lose their homes, my home is worth less. If unemployment and welfare benefits aren't given out, the economy worsens, and my retirement account and other investments goes further south. Bottom line - I can sympathize with both sides of this argument.

I realized something for the first time after this discussion, though. The government really shouldn't have to be doing this. This need shouldn't exist. Why? Because of churches.

Christ didn't dodge many issues, and he especially didn't dodge money. Two commands come to mind: tithe, and take care of the downtrodden. One command is to tithe (give 1/10 of one's income back to God through the church). I read recently that if every member of American churches obeyed this command, there would be more than enough to overcome poverty and hunger in America. Christ also commanded his followers to look after the hungry and poor and imprisoned. Some are doing this. However, the fact that our government spends as much as it does on benefits for the poor is evidence enough that not enough are. Frankly, the bigger government is, it's likely the smaller the contributions of Christians.

There's only one possible hiccup I see in this theory, though. Would non-Christians accept help from the church if it were their last option? I suspect they would. Perhaps in this Great Recession we are wasting a golden opportunity to display these commands to the world.

Playing First Base: Marty McFly

2010-08-08T16:35:00.001-05:00

I had a Back to the Future moment this weekend in a church league softball tournament.

In the great film trilogy Back to the Future, the main character Marty McFly is fairly level-headed and is effective at making decisions and navigating his way through trouble. He does have one Achilles heel, however. If anyone accuses him of being "yellow," or "a chicken," no matter how stupid and foolish the other individual is, Marty feels the need to prove his manhood and courage at great risk to himself. This weakness of his causes him a great deal of trouble across the 3 films.

I mention this because I feel like I've figured out what my Marty McFly weakness is. If anyone questions my integrity, I usually get demonstrably angry. I remember when I was a junior in high school, a baseball coach of mine who I actually really respect questioned my integrity in terms of effort or heart on the diamond after a particularly rough inning. I then engaged in an extended shouting match with said coach, resulting in me getting taken out of the game. It was a proud moment for Mom, I know. I've had others question my integrity in various ways as a teacher or coach, and each time that has also gotten me worked up. Today I got worked up again.

For any player who is deemed injured in some way, this league permits a "pinch runner" to run for them. Anyway, I was standing on second base today and a female player from our team walked. We sent out a pinch runner, since she is pregnant and doesn't want to risk contact with any overzealous church softball all-stars living out their glory days. At this point I hear the shortstop mumble, "She can run. They got to cheat to win." I got pissed. Marty McFly pissed. I turned and looked at him and said, "What?!" He tried to ignore me. I demanded once again, "What?!" He then asked why she couldn't run, and I angrily let him know she was pregnant and that he should just shut up, play the game, and quit accusing us of cheating.

What's dumb is that this guy is most likely an idiot. I know this because we had played this team two nights before, and I my first thought then was that he is most likely an idiot. His actions during the tournament did nothing to change that assessment.

But now I'm the idiot. I got pissed off about what an idiot said or thought about either me or players on my team. I attempted to prove my manhood by scowling and making sharp comments. I bet I changed his mind. . .

Looking at the event in retrospect, part of me thinks that I did the right thing - I defended my team's honor. Reality, though, says that's horse crap. I let pride dictate my actions. Now this guy is probably blogging about how I'm most likely an idiot (albeit an idiot who smoked a homerun against his team and won by ten runs - take that, tough guy).

At the end of the 3rd and final Back to the Future film, Marty finally ignores a challenge of his courage by some idiots to show his growth. That decision saves his life. I wonder when the end of my 3rd movie will be.

Ignore the Extremes

2010-08-07T21:06:00.000-05:00

The proposed mosque near Ground Zero (which is more of a cultural center than anything else) has created a big enough controversy in the news lately that I felt the need to make a very few comments.

1. I understand why emotion by those directly affected by 9/11 would drive them to not want this to be built at this site.

2. I don't believe there's a logical argument to stand on to keep it from being built.

I believe the attempted logical argument goes something like this: Some terrorists committed atrocious acts. Those terrorists claimed to be Muslims. Now Muslims want to build a center to celebrate Muslim ideas, the same extreme ideas that killed lots and lots of Americans. If this is built, Muslims win.

I don't care for this logic because the terrorists represent Islam in the same way the idiots who disrupt military funerals with signs that say "God hates fags!" and claim that our soldiers are dead because God is punishing our godless nation represent Christianity. These extremists do not represent me. Nor do the "Moral Majority" Republicans who quote the 2% of the Bible that will get them elected and ignore the rest. Nor do billions of other people just as flawed as I am. I am a Christian. I attempt to follow Christ the best way I know how. Extremists are not the voice of the faith - Christ is. If it were otherwise, "Christianity" would have a lot of answering to do still about Crusades and witchhunts and cross burnings.

Frankly, I could care less whether this thing gets built or not. I don't, as many liberals claim (at least the ones getting quoted, anyway), see the construction of this mosque/cultural center to be some sort of flag we can wave about how great and tolerant and free our country is. The fact that millions of immigrants are begging to get here is sign enough. Build it, don't build it; I don't really think it makes a big difference. What does make a difference, though, is if any of us want to make a habit of labeling groups based on extremists. That's simply a dangerous road to travel.

Jesus Loves the Little Children

2010-08-04T15:35:00.000-05:00

So I figured out a few reasons recently why Christ makes such a big deal about needing to have the faith of a child.

1. During my graduate studies this summer, I read about why generally the older students get, the less they care about reading and curiosity about information and learning in general. It's simple, really. Writes Kylene Beers: "As students move through the grades, they come to value their peers more and more. 'They won't try,' we say. Instead, we fail to see that they are trying - they are just trying at what matters the most: keeping some form of respect with their peers."

This doesn't go away. Adults are even worse at this. It's the reason I work hard on my lawn and make improvements to my house. Those are great things to do; but ultimately, my motivation is the respect of my peers. I guarantee I spent more time on my lawn this summer than I did reading the Bible. The more I thought about this quote by Beers, the more I connected it with Christ's statement. He wants child-like faith - the kind of faith that is curious and passionate and joyful, the kind of thing that a child can't wait to tell the next person who walks through the door about. Not the kind that is worried about what his/her neighbor is thinking.

2. Recently my wife was at our table frustrated beyond belief at our checkbook and it's refusal to balance. Mad mad. Tears mad. Throwing the checkbook across the room mad. We've all been there. She isn't there often, but she was definitely there. If I'm honest, my immediate thought was, This is akward. What do I do now to help her stop crying so I feel less uncomfortable? It's what I think when I see anyone crying: I feel akward. I tried to speak reasonably to her and tried to convince her the checkbook simply wasn't that big of a deal. Basically, I tried to smooth things over so I wouldn't feel so akward and could eat my breakfast and drink my coffee without the burden of trying to figure out how to help her. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want her to feel bad. I just don't want to lie and pretend I also didn't want me to feel bad either.

My nearly 3 year old daughter is much wiser. Much more like what Christ wants. She was in the room, probably wondering what the heck was going on. She walked out of the room, came back in carrying a stuffed teddy bear, carried it to my wife and said, "Here you go, Mom. This will make you feel better. I love you." Then she hugged her. Way better course of action than mine.

3. There are some songs in church that I enjoy singing, and there are some songs that I endure being played. My demeanor probably isn't significantly different in either case. The last time we were in church, we just got done singing "On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand." Great song. I'm a big fan of that song. My wife and I have sung the chorus to Elise my daughter a couple of times, and she recognized it. Immediately after the song was done, the congregation was dead silent. Right then Elise yells out, "HEY! They just sang On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand." The couple hundred people in the room all heard it and let out an audible chuckle. I had to be proud. I sang the song and stood dutifully. She was passionate about it.

I am now seeking more and more a child-like faith.

Anniversary

2010-07-21T22:18:00.001-05:00

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

2010-07-07T22:54:00.003-05:00

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)

To be a Man

2010-06-20T22:04:00.001-05:00

One real concern I've had over the past couple of years is that I would never really turn into a man. As I write this, I realize that to be a horribly ambiguous statement, so let me clarify. A man, to me, knows how to fix stuff. He knows how to build stuff, he's got a lot of tools, and he's got a truck to haul his tools or the stuff he's fixing. All I have is a truck. I don't know how to fix my truck when it breaks, I struggled mightily in "building" a roll-top cover for it, and mostly I haul nothing. I'm not a man. My goal is to some day be a man. My children will want a man in the house.

Luckily, my father is teaching me about being a man. He's got the truck full of tools and the know-how to use them. When he comes to my house, he asks for the list. "The list" is all the stuff I don't know how to do that I'm too cheap to pay for someone else to do. This is what he does for me. He comes to my house to work; if I pay close attention, I also get to learn. I learned English and athletics while growing up. That led me into a career, and I don't regret it. Now, however, I want to learn how to be a man. Slowly, one project at a time, I'm learning from my father.

I don't know how many 30 year olds will admit to needing their father. Our individualistic culture has encouraged us to not need anybody. I've got no problem, though, admitting that I need mine.

Here's the thing, though. In all of this learning, I've learned something completely different and more important about being a man and being a father. My dad gives his kids what he can give. He does for us what he can do and is available to give what he's got. I look around my house, and half of the furniture in it has been created by him. I can't walk through a room in my house without pointing to something Dad has made better. He knows what he has to offer, he recognizes need, and he's there.

I doubt I'll ever make furniture. I hope to get good with power tools someday, but mostly I just hope to learn their names soon. What I can do, though, if I'm going to be a man in my house, is give what I've got to give, whatever that is, wherever my kids are. My father taught me that.

Fruit or Folly?

2010-06-10T21:58:00.003-05:00

"Never mistake activity for achievement."
-John Wooden

About a month ago I wrote a post called training in which I discussed how time consuming having young children can be and how little time I had to do some of the things I enjoy, especially Bible reading and prayer. Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that I would have to use my previous training of reading and prayer in order to live well in this current stage of my life. I'm testing that theory this month.

In another self-inflicted move of "busyness," I've filled my calendar in the month of June, but I've done it with priorities. Other than watching my girls all summer, there are 3 outside activities I'm devoting time to:

Coaching Basketball: To those of you who haven't heard, I'm now the assistant varsity coach at Mason City. This is the position I've wanted for a while working with the coach I've wanted to work with for a while. If this scenario hadn't occurred, I was probably done coaching. June is filled with camps and open gyms.
Umpiring high school baseball games. Usually 4 nights a week I'm on a baseball diamond.
Grad school. Completing two courses simultaneously beginning this week. It's a summer session, so that means more work in less time.

Though my schedule is now way past full, I maintain that these were good decisions driven by some of my core values. I believe I can improve the lives of young athletes through coaching. It provides me the influence that I can have in no other way to help teach kids life skills. Umpiring is good money usually with people I enjoy being around. This allows me to bring home decent money over the summer to my family without ever having to bring my girls to daycare. Grad school is making me a better teacher. And helping me bring home more money for my family. It also could open up opportunities later for positions of greater influence.

This could also all be a huge waste if not approached correctly. Either I remain in God with these activities and produce real fruit, or I engage in activity for activity's sake and simply run from one place to another. I realized tonight that in order for this to be a productive month, I've got to make sure:

I'm coaching basketball passionately to build up kids, not to be recognized in a position of greater importance than my last one. This can't be about me, and I've got to be very careful about that.
My job is to serve as an umpire, just as if I were serving God. These games aren't for me to survive and collect a check; they are another opportunity to represent Christ.
My motivation for grad school must not be to improve my standing with others, but to improve my skills in working with others.

Bottom line - either I'm with God in these endeavors, or I'm on my own trying to survive. I've done both before in my life. My experience tells me John Wooden is right.

The Death of Expectations

2010-06-08T21:59:00.002-05:00

Though I haven't been able to write over the past couple of weeks because of my schedule, I have been collecting instances in which I've noticed a rash of low or non-existent expectations, especially around teenagers.

1. The phrase "Well at least I'm being honest," has always been one that's bothered me from students. They could have killed their sibling, but if they follow it with, "Well, at least I'm honest," it's as if all sins are absolved. When did honesty cease becoming an expectation? When did we get to the point where lying is expected and that great strides in character have been taken for being honest?

I thought that was bad and have always chastised students for that. During the last week of school, I realized that the situation had worsened. Instead of "At least I'm honest," I began to hear students say "Well, at least I'm here." Now attendance isn't an expectation - it's proof of character.

2. I recently read comments by Iowa State University's athletic director about athletes transferring that I thought were telling as well:
However, it also helps to keep our transfers in perspective. My peers and I continually discuss the epidemic around the country in the sport of basketball. In the past two years over 500 men’s basketball players have transferred from a Division I team to another program. That number is absolutely amazing. Unfortunately if a kid’s world is not absolutely perfect (in their mind), they run from the problem rather than deal with it. Makes you wonder if it is the first signs of our society’s change in our early education program (no longer give kids grades – everybody passes; can’t keep score, everybody has to win; if you do not like something, have mom or dad complain on your behalf). Personally I wonder how that generation is going to survive in the real world when mom or dad or AAU coach are not there for them during their first job interview or first job evaluation. The bottom line is life is not a video game, you can’t just hit reset if you do not like your initial score.

3. A recent Time magazine article detailed studies across the nation aimed at paying students for grades, attendance, homework, etc. This is considered a viable reform option in getting kids more motivated to perform in school.

I close this school year not with optimism, but with fear for the future. I suppose that's a fitting end to a difficult year. I wish I could put a positive spin on trends both in teenagers and in educational policy. I simply can't.

Well, at least I'm being honest.

Reputation Gone Awry

2010-05-16T15:31:00.000-05:00

I'm stuck this week with commentary but no answer to the commentary. I welcome all comments - I'd love fresh perspective on this one.

The question I've been turning over in my head is this: "How should I be seen by the world? What should my reputation in the world be?"

I'm big on reputation. I teach the value of it, and I've worked hard to develop mine. Basically I believe that my daily actions slowly create a reputation amongst others, and that collection of daily actions becomes my identity to them. Most people can list qualities that they'd like to be known for or that they believe about themselves - I'm a nice person, I'm generous, I'm passionate, I'm good at my job, I love my family. . . - but the question is whether or not their daily actions reflect those things. I've tried to teach my students and my basketball players that their actions on a daily basis speak of their character and their priorities and they should be very intentional about the messages they are sending about themselves to others. This week I was confronted with my own reputation.

I found out that one of my bosses (in education you have many) doesn't necessarily like the job I do. Of course I wasn't told that by the boss (another education perk: we believe in many bosses, zero honesty and feedback), but it was by a credible source. I was also told that I'm "polarizing." At first I was very upset. I've worked at this school as a teacher and coach for 3 years now, as long as any other position I've held. I felt like when I left my previous schools, I did so after obtaining respect from students, co-workers, and bosses alike. I'm sure I wasn't liked by everyone, but I certainly felt respected by most. Now, 3 years into this position, I was told I'm seen as a polarizing figure who isn't necessarily suited for more responsibility.

I've calmed down since. When I was upset, it wasn't in self-defense; I was disappointed in myself for building this reputation and was trying to figure out how to change that. I've been doing some thinking, though. How good of a reputation do I really want in this world?

I say that because many times in the New Testament, Christ guarantees trials and tribulations in this world. He says that if you follow Him, there's a great chance the world will hate you. This is good, He says, because we are not to be of the world. If the world loves us, we fit too well in this land.

However, it is also a New Testament theme that we are to represent Christ well in all that we do. We are to be Christ (in actions) to our neighbors. When we take on the name "Christian," what we do affects the reputation of Christ and the Church. I'm not sure the best way to do that is openly alienate all those around me.

I guess the question I have to ask myself is whether or not my actions are Christ-like. Christ was polarizing. Christ spoke hard truths (in love) to others, and they got pretty pissed off about it. He had enough people hate Him that he was executed with no evidence of wrongdoing. Yet he had fiercely loyal followers.

I'm not sure what this means to me. Obviously I don't want to necessarily be polarizing. The more people I can draw to me as a credible, caring person, the better Christ is represented. More dangerous than polarizing, though, would be compromising. And if I am polarizing because I don't compromise my faith, my views of morality, and my unwillingness to accept mediocrity from students and players, then polarizing is something I can embrace.

Thoughts?

Seeing God this weekend

2010-05-09T21:25:00.002-05:00

While I can't remember the exact Psalm off the top of my head, I know that in one of them the writer expresses that evidence of God exists everywhere. Everywhere we look, we can see God here on earth. This weekend, and really all the time, one of the the greatest pictures for me of God here on earth is my mother. When I think about her words and actions when I'm with her, I realize I've seen the goodness of God. Here are some examples.

"Let the little children come to me."
My mother has time, patience, and energy for both of my daughters all of the time. I don't think I'll ever be able to match that level of patience. My 2 1/2 year old sprints to her when she sees her. When Mom visits, she's the first to the one month old in the middle of the night to rock her, and Mom looks like she feels like the luckiest person in the world in the morning for getting to do that.

Fervent prayer.
I remember Christ praying with great passion for his disciples, and I know how fervently Mom prays for her kids. Of course, we've given her many reasons to pray over the years. I know, though, that when Mom says she's praying for us, she really is praying for us.

Servant-heart.
When Mom comes to visit, all of a sudden dirty dishes disappear, the house is picked up, and laundry is magically finished. It's sometimes a chore to get her to sit down and just talk.

"In all things God works for the good of those who love Him."
Mom provides constant strength in times of desperation. When I'm tired and desperate for help, she is there. I don't like to be vulnerable around other people and appear as if I don't have everything under control, but I will with her. And I know she will do everything she can for my good.

Feed the 5 thousand.
This weekend we had several guests staying at our house for the wedding who arrived on Thursday evening. Emily remembered that we didn't have much in the house for breakfast and instructed me to get milk so we could at least eat cereal. A couple hours later Mom showed up, toting a large container of bagels from Panera. Later in the week she took me and Elise and my future brother-in-law out to lunch. A favorite dessert bar amongst Emily's family is named after Mom, who introduced the family to it. While it might not be quite 5 thousand people each time, like her mother before her, it's impossible to go hungry around Mom.

God has most certainly made it easy for me to see Him here on earth.