Living for the Children

I remember when the first of our group of friends had a baby. It was a wonderful and glorious and celebrated occasion; however, when I spoke to my friend a couple of months after the birth, his message was simple: "my life is over." It was difficult to understand this sentiment at the time, but then I had one of my own, and I remember thinking the exact same thing. Lest I be misunderstood here, let me clarify that both he and I loved (and love) our children. Neither of us were wishing it to be undone. What became abundantly clear, though, is that the life we had been living was indeed no more. No more making plans at the last minute. No more coming home from work with unlimited free time. Consistent sleep? Gone. The overwhelming message that the experience of parenthood taught us is that we were no longer the center of the universe, responsible only for ourselves and our spouses.

Of course it must be this way. This is a worthy and fulfilling change. However, I think it's a change that must be tempered a bit. We must strike a responsible balance in this change.

The temptation for me now (and I think for many parents) is to pour all our energies into our children. That sounds sacrificial, courageous, and even heroic, real parent-of-the-year material; but after thinking about this, I don't think that it's a terrific path. Yes, we are called to "build up a child in the way they should go," but I think we've got to be careful in the strategy.

Rather than giving up my life in order to live through my children, I should list what kind of a life I want for them, and be that. My kids don't need me to quit living and advise them; they need me to be a role model. Words are decent teachers; actions are much better ones.

What do I want for my daughters? A devoted marriage with a strong husband? Then I should be the ultimate husband in my home. A devoted prayer life and passion for God? Then I better have that for myself as well. Healthy living? Strong relationships? Fiscal responsibility? Constant personal improvement? Do my actions say those are important? Am I displaying those in my life?

I already see it in my girls. For better or worse, I've devoted a lot of the past 3 years to grad school. Elise, who is 4, will now disappear for about 20-30 minutes and report back that she's been working on her grad work. I've never told her education is important - my actions have communicated to her priorities. No matter how often I tell my girls that flatulence at the dinner table is a bad idea, my actions speak louder than my words (in more ways than one, unfortunately). They are watching - words mean little.

Were my friend and I right about life being over? Absolutely - our old lives are over. We carry a greater burden, a responsibility to more people now. But a new life is required. Now I've got to pursue all the things I want for my girls and act on those goals/dreams, not just talk about them. It's time to get busy living. . .

Purchasing Your Heart's Destination

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will also be."

This teaching from Jesus appears twice in the Gospels, once in Matthew and once in Luke. I think it's common enough that even most non-Bible readers have heard it, and it's a maxim on which I thought I had a pretty good grasp. One's checkbook reveals one's priorities: whatever I put my money towards reveals what I care about. It's pretty simple. A recent sermon I listened to from John Piper has opened up my thinking a bit further on this, though.

Piper used the word "follow" in talking about this text - wherever your treasure is, your heart will follow. It may or may not be with what you spend your money on; however, it soon will be after spending that money. I see examples of this throughout my life. Every time I spend money on a vehicle, I spend time and energy caring for it and worrying about it. When I started putting money into my lawn for fertilizer, weed killer, etc., I went from someone ambivalent at best about my yard to a lawn nazi. I never really cared much for the fluctuations in the stock market until I started contributing regularly towards a retirement account; now I follow those fluctuations, reading articles and listening to advice and trying to time investments properly. Whatever in my life I've decided is worthy of throwing money at, whether I felt strongly about it initially or not, my heart followed quickly and it became a priority.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing. It just is. It has actually been quite good for me as well. I didn't care much about the plight of those in poverty in Central America until Emily and I started sponsoring Compassion children in the region. Now my heart is there. Turkey was just another country that my geographically-impaired mind couldn't find on a map until a friend from church became a missionary there, and we financially supported him and his family. Emily and I went to a fundraiser last night for her workplace, North Iowa Vocational Center, which provides job training for people with disabilities. I'm sure that those who generously donated last night also gave a piece of their attention, if not their heart, to the organization's success and that of the clients that they serve.

The lesson here, for me and for you, is clear. Be careful where you spend your money - you are designating the future destination of your heart. And if you don't like where your heart is now, put your treasure towards where you would like it to be in the future.

Desire More

In my last post I discussed how fear of the bad too often drives our motivation, rather than desire for the good. As an extension of motivation, tonight I write about desire.

What do you desire? I think the quickest way to answer that question is by asking another one - what do you pray for? I saw one study that said 90% of Americans pray on a daily basis; so I know that whether or not you and I align well theologically, chances are good that you pray something, sometime. And I think most of us pray for our desires.

So what do you pray for? Comfort? Safety? Success? Lack of conflict? I have. And I do. But the more I've thought about this (especially following a recent sermon in church), the more I'm not sure these are the best desires. Here's why:

• If I'm completely safe, do I have to trust God for everything? For anything?
• If I do achieve comfort, what then? What will living a comfortable life gain me? Will I really want to come to the end of my life and have said about me, "Well, at least he lived a comfortable life?"
• Can I grow in an atmosphere of comfort? Can I learn? More importantly, can I grow closer to God? If I'm safe and comfortable and free of conflict, with nothing left to fight for, where have I put God?

Frankly, where is the adventure in safety? And where is there a larger purpose? Is "Lord, please keep me from harm?" really what I want to be asking for?

In the sermon that sparked some of these notes, the topic was actually what we should be praying for our children. Instead of praying that they'll get into the best schools and only interact with the safest people and that they'll be protected from hurt around every corner, our pastor instead suggested we pray for these three things for our children:

1. That they are put in a position where they need God to excel.

2. That they become missionaries in whatever they do.

3. That their greatest joy in life is found in being satisfied in Christ.

And if I want these for my kids, should I want anything less for myself?

Desire big. Pray bigger. Christian or not, comfort kills.

Don't Avoid; Pursue

I want to write a few posts about motivation.

Something I've noticed in myself and in our culture in general is that we often act out of fear. We do a lot of what we do because we want to avoid something bad. For example:

• Students (including this one) do assignments to avoid getting bad grades, instead of in hopes of learning.
• Hundreds of commercials are devoted to reminding husbands to buy something nice for their wives for Christmas/Valentine's Day/birthday to avoid messing up and making her mad, not with the goal of making her happy.
• We pay taxes and generally obey the law (when someone is watching) because we don't want to be punished, not because we want what's best for society and respect the leaders and laws of our land.
• We put money in the offering plate to avoid looking like a tightwad.
• We keep up appearances to avoid scorn, not to value what we have/are.

In terms of Christianity, I think many of us have messed that up too. Instead of pursuing the joy of the Lord, we are looking to avoid His wrath. I heard a great line from my pastor a couple of weeks ago: "Christianity is not a 'Get Out of Hell Free' card." He's right. The wrath of God is righteous and scary and should be feared; however, the promise of following Christ is not the avoidance of hell; it's the offer of an eternity of pure and perfect joy.

Christian or non, let's let our motivation in all things be gain, not avoidance. Pursue the good available to you this week.

The Truth

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

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

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.