Tag Archives: Growth

Always Content, Never Satisfied

Strive
Image by bowtoo via Flickr

I know far less after 18-plus years of teaching than I thought I did right out of grad school.

The same is true in my walk with Christ. I felt a whole lot smarter and wiser as a newborn Christian than I am today. Though I know that I must learn to be content with my provision, my gifts, and my circumstance, I can’t get complacent and be satisfied with where I am.

I hope I never get to the point where I think…

  • I understand God or His Word
  • I have accomplished God’s purpose for my life
  • I have achieved all I can achieve for God
  • I know Christ as well as He can be known
  • the torch has passed to a younger generation
  • there’s no one left for me to reach
  • God has nothing left to teach me
  • I’ve dug as deeply as there is to dig
  • I have nothing left to confess
  • I no longer need to bear fruit…or my cross
  • I’m already where God wants me to remain

If I’m on the path, there’s still path left to travel. If I’m no longer moving, I’m no longer on the path.

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An Open Letter to God

When I Ran Into A Brick Wall...
Image by cobalt123 via Flickr

I heard you, God.

I’m not getting it all right yet; I’m still learning. You keep finding ways of getting my attention, and of steering me in the right direction, whether or not it’s where I want to go. Well…where I think I want to go anyway.

I heard you this morning when you asked me when I was going to start getting serious about you, God. My first reaction was, “What do you mean? I am serious about you!”

Then you reminded me that for a long time I said I was serious about my marriage. And I was. But it wasn’t where you wanted it to be. I wasn’t growing and I wasn’t keeping the right priorities. You tried to get my attention more than once, but I brushed you aside, gave you lip service, or ignored you. It took a crisis for me to realize where I was heading and to really get serious about my marriage and my priorities.

It’s still a work in progress, but you knew that. I’m still getting things wrong sometimes, but I’m learning, and I’m working diligently to grow and strengthen my marriage every day.

“See?” I said to you. “I’m serious about my marriage. I listened to you. What makes you think I’m not serious about you?”

Then you reminded me that for a long time I said I was serious about my job and my career. But in reality I was stalled. You gave me talents, and instead of investing them, I buried them. I coasted instead of developing and honing and building those talents to fulfill the potential you put in me to become the best teacher I was capable of being. It took some serious challenges before I looked up and noticed how you were trying to get me to pay attention.

I still have a long way to go, but you know that better than I do. I still make mistakes, but I’m working on them and I take seriously the responsibilities you have put in my hands.

“So, God, what’s your point?” My self-righteousness began rising as I talked to you. “You got my attention. I listened. Twice! I turned things around and I’m moving forward now. I do take you seriously.”

Then you reminded me that my relationship with you is not about fixing my mistakes or becoming a better person or even being a great teacher, father, or husband. It’s first about knowing you. The other stuff comes afterwards.

So much of my thinking still needs adjustment. How many times have I treated you like you’re an afterlife insurance salesman? Pay the regular premiums, pray the prayers, confess the sins. But who thinks about their insurance in between the annual payments? How often have I acted like serving the church or serving my family is the same as serving you? I see now that I’ve just been wading ankle deep at the shoreline instead of diving into the ocean.

So finally you asked me a simple, pointed question: “Do you really want to wait for the catastrophe to strike before you finally start to take me seriously?”

Well, I’m still learning, so I can only promise you that while I’m going to take you seriously now–really take you seriously–I’m also going to mess this up at some point. Probably more than once.

But God, I hear you.

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Nominal Christian, Practical Atheist

AtheismHave you ever noticed that God frequently will bring something to your attention one day and then reinforce it from an entirely different direction the next? Or am I the only one? Didn’t think so.

This morning’s message at church was tied in to the ongoing Truth Project that we’re studing in our small groups. Today’s topic was Theology (Who Is God?). Pastor Del was speaking about our possible responses to God. Many people recognize that there are two extremes: you can be an atheist, denying the existence of God, or a believer.

But there is a middle ground that I hadn’t really considered before today, and that is what Pastor Del calls “practical atheism.” Essentially this is believing that God exists (at least potentially), but living your life as though He didn’t.

Ouch. How many “Christians” are in fact pratical atheists? How much of my life is lived this way? I suspect this is part of the problem I’ve been having with getting the habit of prayer and scripture into my life. If I truly believed in the existence of God and His desire for a relationship with me, wouldn’t I want to spend every possible moment with Him? Wouldn’t I want to hear from the creator of the universe about His plan for me? Wouldn’t I want to read about his system for organizing my life and growing my spirit?

The only conclusion I can draw is that on some level I’ve been a practical atheist all my life. Sixteen years ago I made a decision to follow Christ, but I don’t think my behavior or my attitude have quite caught up with that decision. How far could I have come in these sixteen years if I’d been more receptive and more willing to surrender and grow?

Even when I was behaving as though I didn’t believe in God, the miracle is that He believed—and believes—in me. He has been faithful when I had little faith. He has been true when my life was filled with lies. He will take me where I am, and I can start allowing Him to change me today.

Like I said yesterday, new habits can’t be layered on top of old ones. I have to first do away with the old, let go of the things that aren’t pleasing to God, trust Him, and truly, passionately believe in Him. Everything else has to grow out of that.

Photo Credits: Atheism via Wikipedia, 3/29/07

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Falling in Love with Scripture Again

Reading scriptures

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been working on getting my work life under control. Teaching in three buildings means that, for one thing, something I need is frequently not where I am. It’s also a significant challenge keeping track of all the various things I need to take care of, since in many cases I can only work on certain things when I’m in a particular school.

I began reading a book that has been on my list for a while: Getting Things Done, by David Allen. Within a week, I have already begun to change my habits and routines at work, gathering all of my “stuff” into one place, figuring out the most efficient way of storing and maintaining it, and how to keep track of my projects and to-dos in a way that will work despite being in a different place every day.

It struck me as I reflected on the last week how easily my mindset and routine started to shift into new patterns. This is hardly an established habit yet, but I can already see changes in my thinking and the way I see many of the things that come across my desk at school. It’s even starting to seep into my activities at home.

So why is it so hard for me to establish new patterns in my spiritual life? Why when I start a new habit of daily prayer and Bible reading does it only last a few days before drifting back to nearly non-existent? I think it’s because, like all of the prior “organization systems” I’ve tried to use, these habits were simply laid down on top of the rest of my life. Nothing fundamentally changed inside me—I simply tried to add a new system or routine to the existing ones.

Our small group has been going through The Truth Project. Its tagline is “Do you really believe that what you believe is really real?” One of the things I think I believe is that I want to get to know God and grow more like Christ every day. But do I really believe that this is really something that can happen, or do I just say it because it’s what good Christians say? I think perhaps my failure to make this habit work is because I’ve been trying to fit it into my life instead of rethinking my life and building it around a relationship with God.

Photo Credits: Reading scriptures by Amanda Bills Photography, 5/17/07

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Under the Tissue Paper, Another Gift

As often happens during family holiday gatherings, we started reminiscing yesterday about Christmases past. One story that made us all smile was about my wife’s grandmother. One year, when we asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she simply said, “Just give me all your love. I don’t need anything else.” So each one of us gave her a box that had a piece of paper that simply said LOVE. When she opened the first one, she saw the paper and asked what it meant.

“It’s your gift, Grandmom. You said you just wanted our love. So that’s what we gave you.” She smiled and was obviously very touched. Then she looked under the tissue paper and said, “No, really, where’s my gift?”

As I was watching my children and my nephews opening their gifts yesterday, I realized that are layers to my own understanding of Christmas, and it’s reflected in the progression of my attitude towards gift-giving. Each time I looked under the tissue paper, I found another meaning to Christmas.

When I was a child, it was all about the getting. All that mattered to me was whether I got cool stuff and how much I was accumulating. I’d rip open one package, and had hardly even seen what was inside before I moved on to the next box. I was so engrossed in my own pile of loot that I hardly even noticed what everyone else was opening. And sometimes, I’d look under the tissue paper and wonder, “No, really, where’s my gift?”

As I got older, though, things shifted. As much as I still enjoyed (and enjoy) receiving gifts, it was more about the giving than the receiving. I got so much joy from seeing the pleasure that other people received when I had given a particularly appropriate gift.

Yesterday, I lifted yet another layer of tissue paper and discovered that it’s about the receiving again. But what matters to me now isn’t the gift, it’s my response to it. I have had many different responses to gifts over the years, some verbalized, some kept to myself:

“OK! What’s in the next one?”
“Is that all?”
“It’s just what I wanted!”
“It’s not exactly what I wanted…”
“Maybe I can exchange it.”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

And for most of my life, my response has revolved around what I wanted or thought I needed.

But a gift is more about the giver than the receiver. The giver chose the gift believing it was a good match for me. The greatest expression of love I can give back is to accept it, open it, and use it. It may not be exactly what I thought I wanted, but if I allow myself to appreciate it—and I mean honestly appreciate it, not just obligatory lip service—the value of the gift is fully realized.

This thought process naturally brought me around to the original Christmas gift: God’s grace and forgiveness. He gave me His son’s life in exchange for mine. So many times the meaning of this gift has been lost on me. “Is that all? It’s not exactly what I wanted. Maybe I can exchange it…. Well, it’s the thought that counts.” And I truly felt that the thought was what counted, and all I needed to do was acknowledge the thought. “OK, God, I really appreciate you thinking of me. Thanks!”

But it’s not.  The gift counts, and the giver counts. What good is it to get a gift card if I never spend it, regardless of how much I “appreciate” the thought? God wants me to do more than take his gift and appreciate it. He wants me to do something with it.

So for me, this Christmas will be about responding more deeply to God’s gift than I ever have. Not just appreciating the gift, not just appreciating the thought, but loving the giver and giving my whole life back to him. Because God’s real gift to me is that if I give him my life, he’ll also take responsibility for making it a worthwhile one.

At one point I was contemplating titling this post The True Meaning of Christmas, but quickly realized that besides being a cliché, I’m not nearly old enough yet to have figured it all out. I’m certain that when I look under the next layer of tissue paper, there will be yet another meaning to the gift. I’m looking forward to discovering it.