Whom do you feel like you have more in common with?
Person A: This person has made many of the same decisions as you in life. They have pursued a similar career, for many of the same reasons. They have many of the same goals as you. They come from a similar family & social background as you. They hold many of the same opinions and convictions as you.
In fact, there is only one thing you don't have in common with this person: They have no relationship with Jesus.
Person B: This person has made many of the exact opposite decisions that you have. They have a career that has nothing to do with yours---or perhaps they are even opposed to your career. Their goals seem alien to you. Their family life is radically different from yoursl perhaps it is even offensive to you. They come from a side of town you would never visit. They don't share your most closely-held convictions, and hold convictions that you consider absurd.
But this person is a follower of Jesus.
Whom do you feel like you have more in common with?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Discipline of Dismay
My small group is going through Os Guinness' The Call. We recently had a discussion about Guinness' description of what Oswald Chambers called "the discipline of dismay." He describes it as the weightiness that settles in when, after the initial joy of following Jesus has passed, we realize that Jesus may be traveling somewhere we'll find unpleasant.
He gives the example of Jesus setting a course for Jerusalem, telling His disciples several times along the way that He was going there to die. (This setting makes their questions about who is the greatest seem even more ludicrous, but that's another blog for another day.)
It's at this point in the semester that the discipline of dismay sets in for me. There are six weeks left---only six!---and yet following Jesus for those six weeks seems so much more difficult than the previous nine. There are difficult conversations with students who have fallen behind; long-term projects come to an intense head; I get sick; multiple deadlines converge on the same day (and procrastination becomes a long-gone pleasure!); LOST offers more questions than answers...
(Okay; that last one is relatively tame, but it certainly doesn't help.)
It's also at this point in the semester that it's easiest to put false hope in the next semester, to begin planning for the next round of classes, when I know I'll "get it right."
But I need to learn what I can, and grow how I can, during this time. I need to accept the discipline of dismay, and not avoid it.
He gives the example of Jesus setting a course for Jerusalem, telling His disciples several times along the way that He was going there to die. (This setting makes their questions about who is the greatest seem even more ludicrous, but that's another blog for another day.)
It's at this point in the semester that the discipline of dismay sets in for me. There are six weeks left---only six!---and yet following Jesus for those six weeks seems so much more difficult than the previous nine. There are difficult conversations with students who have fallen behind; long-term projects come to an intense head; I get sick; multiple deadlines converge on the same day (and procrastination becomes a long-gone pleasure!); LOST offers more questions than answers...
(Okay; that last one is relatively tame, but it certainly doesn't help.)
It's also at this point in the semester that it's easiest to put false hope in the next semester, to begin planning for the next round of classes, when I know I'll "get it right."
But I need to learn what I can, and grow how I can, during this time. I need to accept the discipline of dismay, and not avoid it.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
I'm not quite dead yet!
I've missed a couple posts because of a cold. (Sick during Spring Break--isn't that always the way?) Let's say I'll see you on the 23rd!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Curiosity, Anger & Fear - My Testimony March 7
This Sunday, I was given a few minutes during my church's Sunday morning meeting to share about my journey with God. Below is the text of what I shared.
I feel the need to apologize, as the story I’m about to tell you is unfinished. I wish I had an ending to give you, but I’m afraid that hasn’t happened yet. But while I don’t have an ending, I do have an outline for you. I’d like to tell you about my curiosity, anger, and fear.
First, my curiosity. I grew up in church, and I often felt curious and confused. I didn’t understand how what I learned in church lined up with what I learned in school. As an example, I learned in church that the basis of my relationship with God was faith in what Jesus had done, and not in anything I did. On the other hand, in school, I learned that there was a time in history when Christians believed the exact opposite. I wanted to learn where my faith had come from, and why I believed what I believed. In short, I needed to make my faith my own and, as a result, develop my own relationship with God.
As I graduated high school and started college, I learned to read God’s word for myself and apply it to my life. I soon learned that the Christianity I read about in the Bible and the Christianity I had witnessed growing up were not always the same. The God I met in the Bible was gracious beyond what my sin deserved, loving beyond what I could imagine, and cared for me as an individual. I also learned that God has a specific calling for my life, and that He wants me to follow Him by serving others everywhere all the time, and not just at church on Sundays or at college ministry events. I learned to view all of life as an opportunity to glorify God by serving others.
It was this desire to glorify God by serving others that led me to pursue a career in academia. To do so, I had to take on the greatest challenge of my life: graduate school. For those of you unfamiliar with grad school, imagine, over the course of five years, having all of your dignity, physical health, and sanity slowly stripped away.
Life in grad school was harder than I had thought it would be. I knew my studies would be intellectually challenging, but I didn’t expect them to be so emotionally draining. I learned the pain of facing challenges that I didn’t feel strong enough for. I learned that putting my faith in God doesn’t mean that life will be easy. I felt as though God had brought me to a spiritual mountaintop in college, and then, in grad school, crammed me into a dark dank cell. (And that’s quite literal. My office was about the size of a shoebox.) I was often hurried and under pressure to produce results, and I had little time to reflect on what I was learning or to serve others like I had wanted to. I felt disillusioned with my studies, and was sad at my lack of progress in serving others and sharing Christ with my classmates.
I became angry at God.
I did not want to admit my anger. I felt ashamed. I felt like, if I confessed it, there would be no coming back.
I ended up taking my anger out on Amy. I became uncaring and emotionally unresponsive, except for when I was frustrated. I would yell at her for the silliest things, like leaving dirty clothes on the bed or if she got home late from work. I thought that controlling her would somehow appease my anger.
Finally, late into grad school, I confessed my anger to God and to Amy. I wish I could tell you that as soon as I confessed, the clouds parted, the sun shined down on me, and I felt this heavenly sense of freedom. But that’s not what happened. I wasn’t free from my anger at that moment, but somehow the anger didn’t seem to have nearly the weight that it once did. When I confessed, I felt the freedom to slowly begin to slide out from under it.
As a result, I learned that the world doesn’t end when I confess a huge sin. I learned that God doesn’t return my anger with spite. And I learned that God will take the punches from my anger.
Finally, let me tell you a little about my struggle with fear.
Just before finishing grad school, I learned that I have a heart condition called Mitral Valve Prolapse. The short description is that my heart’s mitral valve shakes every time it closes and my heart often feels as though it’s beating twice as fast as it actually is. It’s very distressing, and I often feel nervous and afraid in response to it.
When I learned that I have this condition, I felt very afraid and fragile, like I might break at the slightest touch. This fear has been a struggle, because in many ways, this condition affects me beyond my control, but at the same time, I need to respond to it as best I can. Dealing with this condition has been a lesson about how I cannot control everything in life, but need to turn to God as I respond to what happens to me. It’s difficult not to become angry at God over this, and He’s been very patient as I’ve learned to live with this condition and struggled with my fear and anger as a result.
So, as I said, I cannot offer you an ending. God is still in the process of developing my trust in Him. In spite of my fear and anger, He remains faithful and gracious to me, and does not treat me as my sins deserve. Because of his love, patience, and forgiveness through Christ, I can learn to depend on Him in all circumstances of life.
I feel the need to apologize, as the story I’m about to tell you is unfinished. I wish I had an ending to give you, but I’m afraid that hasn’t happened yet. But while I don’t have an ending, I do have an outline for you. I’d like to tell you about my curiosity, anger, and fear.
First, my curiosity. I grew up in church, and I often felt curious and confused. I didn’t understand how what I learned in church lined up with what I learned in school. As an example, I learned in church that the basis of my relationship with God was faith in what Jesus had done, and not in anything I did. On the other hand, in school, I learned that there was a time in history when Christians believed the exact opposite. I wanted to learn where my faith had come from, and why I believed what I believed. In short, I needed to make my faith my own and, as a result, develop my own relationship with God.
As I graduated high school and started college, I learned to read God’s word for myself and apply it to my life. I soon learned that the Christianity I read about in the Bible and the Christianity I had witnessed growing up were not always the same. The God I met in the Bible was gracious beyond what my sin deserved, loving beyond what I could imagine, and cared for me as an individual. I also learned that God has a specific calling for my life, and that He wants me to follow Him by serving others everywhere all the time, and not just at church on Sundays or at college ministry events. I learned to view all of life as an opportunity to glorify God by serving others.
It was this desire to glorify God by serving others that led me to pursue a career in academia. To do so, I had to take on the greatest challenge of my life: graduate school. For those of you unfamiliar with grad school, imagine, over the course of five years, having all of your dignity, physical health, and sanity slowly stripped away.
Life in grad school was harder than I had thought it would be. I knew my studies would be intellectually challenging, but I didn’t expect them to be so emotionally draining. I learned the pain of facing challenges that I didn’t feel strong enough for. I learned that putting my faith in God doesn’t mean that life will be easy. I felt as though God had brought me to a spiritual mountaintop in college, and then, in grad school, crammed me into a dark dank cell. (And that’s quite literal. My office was about the size of a shoebox.) I was often hurried and under pressure to produce results, and I had little time to reflect on what I was learning or to serve others like I had wanted to. I felt disillusioned with my studies, and was sad at my lack of progress in serving others and sharing Christ with my classmates.
I became angry at God.
I did not want to admit my anger. I felt ashamed. I felt like, if I confessed it, there would be no coming back.
I ended up taking my anger out on Amy. I became uncaring and emotionally unresponsive, except for when I was frustrated. I would yell at her for the silliest things, like leaving dirty clothes on the bed or if she got home late from work. I thought that controlling her would somehow appease my anger.
Finally, late into grad school, I confessed my anger to God and to Amy. I wish I could tell you that as soon as I confessed, the clouds parted, the sun shined down on me, and I felt this heavenly sense of freedom. But that’s not what happened. I wasn’t free from my anger at that moment, but somehow the anger didn’t seem to have nearly the weight that it once did. When I confessed, I felt the freedom to slowly begin to slide out from under it.
As a result, I learned that the world doesn’t end when I confess a huge sin. I learned that God doesn’t return my anger with spite. And I learned that God will take the punches from my anger.
Finally, let me tell you a little about my struggle with fear.
Just before finishing grad school, I learned that I have a heart condition called Mitral Valve Prolapse. The short description is that my heart’s mitral valve shakes every time it closes and my heart often feels as though it’s beating twice as fast as it actually is. It’s very distressing, and I often feel nervous and afraid in response to it.
When I learned that I have this condition, I felt very afraid and fragile, like I might break at the slightest touch. This fear has been a struggle, because in many ways, this condition affects me beyond my control, but at the same time, I need to respond to it as best I can. Dealing with this condition has been a lesson about how I cannot control everything in life, but need to turn to God as I respond to what happens to me. It’s difficult not to become angry at God over this, and He’s been very patient as I’ve learned to live with this condition and struggled with my fear and anger as a result.
So, as I said, I cannot offer you an ending. God is still in the process of developing my trust in Him. In spite of my fear and anger, He remains faithful and gracious to me, and does not treat me as my sins deserve. Because of his love, patience, and forgiveness through Christ, I can learn to depend on Him in all circumstances of life.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Ford vs. The Frantics
My church small group is reading through The Call, by Os Guinness. We recently discussed Chapter 5, "By Him, To Him, For Him," which addresses the "Protestant distortion," which, as Guinness puts it, "[said] that work was made sacred. Whereas the Bible is realistic about work, seeing it after the fall as both creative and cursed, the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries lost the balance. Work was not only entirely good, but it was also virtually made holy in a crescendo of enthusiasm that was later termed 'the Protestant ethic.'"
Guinness illustrates this distortion with a series of quotes from that time.
"The man who builds a factory builds a temple. The man who works there worships there" (President Collidge). All right; I can understand & appreciate that. We should worship God in all we do (not just work, but including work).
"Work is the salvation of the human race, morally, physically, socially" (Henry Ford). Yikes! Sounds like someone is trying to drum up motivation to work at an assembly line...
At the same time, we can fall into the other trap of hating work altogether. Consider the following lines from "Kids of Summer" on Meet the Frantics (Are they still around?):
"I don't want to go to work again.
Think it's the only place I've ever been.
And I would rather be at home
Watching TV all alone
Than to be in this.
I feel it eatin' at my soul again.
My candle's burnin' and it's reached the end.
But there's nothing I can say
To make a difference anyway
To get me out of here.
I used to have a heart,
When we were the kids of summer.
But the dyin' had begun,
When you and I were young.
I don't want to go to sleep again.
By six a.m. I'm wishing I was dead.
A couple hours in the sack
Turn around and headin' back
To start the cycle again.
I gotta wear that stupid painted grin
When I just wanna jump right outta my skin.
I need something that is true,
But there's nothin' I can do,
I gotta pay the bills."
How do we find the balance? How do we feel a sense of completing our calling, while at the same time paying the bills (and washing the laundry, and filling up the car with gas, and cleaning the bathroom, and washing the laundry again because you forgot to put it in the dryer after washing it yesterday...)?
Guinness illustrates this distortion with a series of quotes from that time.
"The man who builds a factory builds a temple. The man who works there worships there" (President Collidge). All right; I can understand & appreciate that. We should worship God in all we do (not just work, but including work).
"Work is the salvation of the human race, morally, physically, socially" (Henry Ford). Yikes! Sounds like someone is trying to drum up motivation to work at an assembly line...
At the same time, we can fall into the other trap of hating work altogether. Consider the following lines from "Kids of Summer" on Meet the Frantics (Are they still around?):
"I don't want to go to work again.
Think it's the only place I've ever been.
And I would rather be at home
Watching TV all alone
Than to be in this.
I feel it eatin' at my soul again.
My candle's burnin' and it's reached the end.
But there's nothing I can say
To make a difference anyway
To get me out of here.
I used to have a heart,
When we were the kids of summer.
But the dyin' had begun,
When you and I were young.
I don't want to go to sleep again.
By six a.m. I'm wishing I was dead.
A couple hours in the sack
Turn around and headin' back
To start the cycle again.
I gotta wear that stupid painted grin
When I just wanna jump right outta my skin.
I need something that is true,
But there's nothin' I can do,
I gotta pay the bills."
How do we find the balance? How do we feel a sense of completing our calling, while at the same time paying the bills (and washing the laundry, and filling up the car with gas, and cleaning the bathroom, and washing the laundry again because you forgot to put it in the dryer after washing it yesterday...)?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Undergraduate Corner: Insightful Book
On this blog, the first and third Tuesday of each month are dedicated to presenting discussion geared toward undergraduate students, in a series called, "Undergraduate Corner."
What's Wrong With University: And How to Make It Work For You Anyway looks to be an insightful book on undergraduate life. You can find a number of interesting excerpts on the site.
What's Wrong With University: And How to Make It Work For You Anyway looks to be an insightful book on undergraduate life. You can find a number of interesting excerpts on the site.
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