Leaving the Event

Tomorrow in class I'm going to put the phrase "Success is not an event, it's a process," on my board to start the semester and ask students to reflect on that in some informal writing. Too many of them attempted to obtain a successful grade (by their standards, not mine) during the last week of the semester through some sort of one-time, quick-fix, band-aid style project that would send them to the academic promised land. "What can I do today to raise my grade?" they demanded, one after another. Today? I responded, glares of indignation staring from my eyes. Really?

Success is not an event in athletics either. You're either ready when opportunity knocks, or you're not. A game is an event, and to win the game one must be able to play well. The only way to play well is through the  daily process that no one sees. Otherwise you will crumble under pressure, when it matters, unable to succeed when all the lights are on, when all the people are watching, when a true reflection of your process is shown.

Writing is not an event, nor is parenting, marathon-running, weight-loss, relationship-building, or fantasy-football championships. They all require a dogged process, a long-term commitment that is revealed during an event.

Today in my adult Sunday school class we were challenged to write our faith story in one hundred words or less. We were encouraged in it, like any good story, to show a before and after regarding our relationship with Christ and to highlight the event that really changed it all. It is in that formula, though, where I think we get it wrong as Christians, as evangelists, and simply as tellers of our story. Just as academic success is not an event, neither is following Christ. It's a constant process, a daily journey, a commitment of making little decisions and taking little actions and becoming slightly more like Christ every day. To suggest to others that an event is going to fix everything, that a sharp before and after contrast can occur in the blink of an eye, is somewhat misleading.

Yes, I once was lost but now I am found. Sure, some people have an event like Paul's blinding in the desert and immediate conversion. But many of us, myself included, are somewhere in the process. I am less lost than I was ten years ago (and less blind too). But what have I found? What do I see? Only a glimpse. But the more I get of the glimpse, the more I want to see.

The process continues. . .