He is unaware of my presence. His eyes are closed, the patterned quilt above him faintly rising and falling. The small clock radio at his bedside blares an old country station, but the silence is overwhelming. Grandchildren innocently look out from photographs haphazardly arranged on the desk. A wooden frame holds a younger, stronger version of the man laying in the bed.

He is contentedly unaware of this. And so I sit in a corner of his room, waiting for the possibility that he’ll wake up and need someone.

Here I am. For the possibility.

I am in a long term facility where my grandfather lives out his last few days. He sleeps much of the day, and the doctors haven’t given him much time to live. It could be tomorrow, it could be next week. But it will be soon. And here in these slow-moving days, as silence is interrupted only by footsteps in the hall, I get to thinking: “Could the world be a better place?”

Stuck between free hugs and a hard place

We all want the world around us to change for the better. Sometimes our desire for change comes close to breaking our hearts. We see brokenness in our world and we cry out for change. We see babies dying, teenagers losing hope, injustice and unfairness. We desperately want change. The problem is, we don’t know where to begin.

When it comes to changing the world there is an ongoing skirmish in the dusty desert of my soul. I have lived in the camp of the Eternal Optimist, where the days are filled with sunshine and passionate movements. They preach “Change!” from the rooftops, and generally talk to you as though the world can change in this moment. They lead the conversation, full of life and vigor and the pursuit of change in the midst of a difficult and busy world.

If they’re really passionate, the words spill out of them like an ocean tide on too much caffeine. The change is sweeping, all-encompassing and it will happen right now. The world can be better, will be better and is going to be better because of you and me. It comes across like a late-night infomercial, the seller is loud and the product is cheap. But don’t worry, just embrace it and follow, right?

I recently came across three Eternal Optimists while shopping at the mall. They were dressed in dark clothing (for irony, I think), and they carried a sign that proclaimed, “FREE HUGS!” In my fascination, I watched as they walked past people, around people. Each time, there were no hugs, free or otherwise. In fact, there was a general avoidance of the dark-clothed happy people offering their poisonous free hugs. As a bystander, I found it both sadly ironic and darkly funny.

Learning to step

The problem with change is that it’s impossible to measure. When change is called for we want sweeping changes, dramatic changes that will alter the course of history. We don’t like our government, we elect a new one. When we want change in our health, we buy a workout program, or a gym membership.  We start working toward that new goal with all of our efforts. We like the sweeping dramatic results. Anything less seems, well, not enough.

My four year old daughter appreciates change better than I do. One afternoon, after picking her up at pre-school, I asked how her day went. She looked at me, and then her face brightened and her grin spread across her face and she proclaimed, “Daddy, I got invited to A BIRTHDAY PARTY!” The change in her was enormous. Our family has moved around a lot so she hasn’t had much opportunity to make friends.  Here she was, at the end of her day, beaming from the kindness of one of her friends asking her if she wanted to come to his birthday party. A small step of kindness – an enormous impact on my daughter. This is something beautiful.

Stepping out

And so here I sit, an agent of change. I think that perhaps change is less about history and headlines and more about each day’s countless opportunities to step out in kindness. It’s less on our own desire to create change and more about realizing that change can happen right in front of us. I sit, while my grandfather lives out his last days, unaware if I am his grandson, or a doctor, or an old fishing buddy from years ago.

But then grandpa shifts in his bed. The blanket falls to the floor and he’s cold. I can see his discomfort, how he moves his legs in the attempt to warm himself. I get up, step toward the bed, and move the blankets just enough to cover his legs.

I step.

I make change.  And the world changes with me.

Upcoming online chats: Join us for daily online chats! One of our features will be “How do you determine whether and where to give your resources to help others?” on March 26 at 12:15 pm EST. Please join us to discuss how to take a step and make a change!

Powerlessness. Futility.

These are two words that devour my soul. What could I have done differently?  It makes me feel as though I am a bystander. I’m not in the moment, I’m watching someone else’s moment. I try to get involved, try to encourage the weak, try to make a difference. But moments still slip past, people still stumble and I feel like a bystander.

The call to be a difference-maker

A struggle I have with the concept of change stems from my early Christian experience.  One morning a well-meaning pastor preached “You could cure cancer, and it still wouldn’t be enough.” He was highlighting the difference that Jesus makes. Jesus turns me from darkness into light – a 180 degree turn in my final destiny. In one sense, I suppose that’s true. That’s a big difference.  But what about change now?

Where is the call to be a difference maker? Does making a difference in Haiti have an impact? Does engaging my neighbor, thanking my bus driver, owning up to the hurt I cause when I live selfishly make a difference? Jesus calls me, and us, to great things. In John 14:12, he says, “anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these.”

Does this mean that I am not living up to my Christian faith when I’m not healing people, saving people, and bringing people back from the dead? Is this a call to greater miracles, loftier aspirations, and more incredible physical healings? Is change just about trying to one-up Jesus?

Washing windows at a bus stop

At my public transit station, there is a man who cleans the windows every morning. People listen to their iPods, stare at the floor, and gather outside when the bus comes to take them away. No one is there to admire the view. Is this the kind of change I’m called to? I do the best I can in my sphere of influence, but in the end, it feels as though

I’m washing windows at a bus stop.

I sit and watch the window washer. While he washes windows, he talks to people – anyone – about everything. While people sit and wait and watch for their bus, here is this man who washes windows who talks to strangers. He reminds me of the whispering voice of God, calling me to change my world. I hear the whisper over the cheer of the bystander.

Greater things than these

There are times when I do get involved. It makes me uncomfortable, or it’s awkward, or it’s a disruption in my busy schedule. I think of all the things that could possibly go wrong. What if I helped that person holding four grocery bags and walking on an icy street? What if I donated a little more of time helping kids learn to read?

What if I decide to make a difference and it doesn’t make any difference at all?

The allure of the bystander is that it keeps me safe. I don’t risk anything, and I am rewarded for it. With my peace. With my dignity. With my selfishness.

And so today, I stand by the casket of the boy who laid down in front of a train. I talk to his brother and ask how he’s doing. I offer my condolences, my support, my house if he needs a place to sleep or vent or just heal. I am compelled by the whisper of God to make a difference.

Change. Impact.

These are two words that create life in me. And a call to greater things.

In a small way, I envy my daughter.  She’s at the age of vivid dreams that  turn into wonderful adventures of skipping ropes and flying through the air.  I’m happy to get a night of uninterrupted sleep, never mind the dreaming.  After all, I’m an adult.  I have work to do.

Sure, I have dreams.  Not just the kind that I experience at night, but those yearnings that keep me up at night.  I have dreams and aspirations that allow me to think bigger, to live larger, to see the world through believing eyes.  Admit it, you have them too.

As life moves faster and faster, I’ve found that I’ve begun to believe that dreams are for children.  Dreams are for fairy tales and absent-minded teenagers who have yet to experience the real world, the working world.  Dreams are the stuff of American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance where the victorious stand in a temporary spot light and tell me that I can accomplish my goals if I just put everything into it.  “Just believe!  Dream!” they shout through tears and stage make-up.  It comes across as a cheap sale, as if life is handing out fulfilled dreams on every corner.

Will dream for food

And so I carry on.  My life is busy.  Catch the bus.  Get to school.  Get to work.  Accomplish this goal and move on to the next stage of life.  Where’s the room for dreams?  Is there a mandatory expiry date on my dreams, as career, kids, and life move in?

The problem with dreams is that they never seem to go away.  They get pushed around, beaten up, shelved by time, but they never disappear.  They are always lingering someplace in the background of our hearts.  They appear here and there to let us know that they still exist.  They poke at our souls, asking questions like, “What would happen if…?”

The dark side of dreams

My own experience has taught me that dreams are easily beaten into submission by both people and circumstances.  When dreams are shattered, it’s difficult to put them back together.  It’s in those moments, in those months and years, where dreams begin to bury themselves underground.  When dreams go unrealized, especially the big dreams of our lives, they can quickly become festering wounds of disillusionment.  I’ve lived in this disillusionment for the past number of years.  And I began to emerge when I was asked a most profound question by an insightful friend:

“What is the goal of your life?  What do you love doing?”

I had a hard time with the reply.  Not because I hadn’t thought about it – I had been thinking about it for years!  I had pursued my passion in life, investing the entirety of my time, my energy, my soul.  And I had watched it all come crashing down.  My response was revealing. “I’m not telling you.  It hurts too much,” I said.

Dreams have that ability.  They infect daily routines with impossible thoughts, with desires that make the heart hurt with possibility.  Dreams can be dangerous, but they are vitally important.

The necessity of dreams

I need to dream, I must dream.  I need to see a world beyond myself, beyond my needs, beyond my abilities.  Dreams are important because they reflect this.  Our core dreams are not visions of grandeur, of hoping for a better job or a better pay, but of who we are.  We dream of what our purpose in world is all about.  Is there a place in the adult world for this sort of dreaming?

I certainly hope so.  After living in the shattered vision of destroyed dreams, I have come to realize that dreams are placed in our heart to give us hope.  They are one of God’s ways of whispering to us, “This is what you are designed to do.  This is how you can share my love in the world.”  Are dreams necessary?  Do they have a role in our lives?

I believe God whispers, “I certainly hope so.”

If you have given up on your dreams, you are not alone. If you’d like to talk about it, we’d love to hear from you. Use this form to  be matched with one of our mentors. Mentors are trained volunteers with real life experience.  They can answer questions, point you to other resources or just listen when you have something to say.

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The raw power of a storm is magnificent – the towering ominous clouds, the announcement of rumbling thunder, the unrestrained force of the gusting wind.  A storm is one of those unique opportunities in life where a person can watch the dynamic strength of nature – the same sort of unfettered energy found in an unstoppable hurricane, a supercharged bolt of lightning, or in the gentle caress of the sun.

As a human spectator, I am in awe of such power.  It reminds me of my place in the world, and that there is greater power beyond that which my own two hands can accomplish.

Matthew 19:26 reads, “With man this is impossible, with God all things are possible.”

With God everything is possible.  This is a phrase that can not be applied to something even as powerful as the sunshine or an earthquake.  The difficulty I have is that I view God’s power in much the same way I view human power.  When given power, I tend to abuse it after a time and I’m not alone in this.

Wealth, status, and power tend to distort one’s way of thinking in our culture.  Dictators with unchecked power have destroyed millions of lives in an attempt to retain power.  The wealthy in our world continue to prey on the less fortunate.  Nations go to war over self-interest in their pursuit of furthering their own territory. One of the beliefs of the Christian faith is that God has absolute power to do as He sees fit.

When God looks over creation, how exactly does He use His absolute power?  Is God the friendly hotel manager, who welcomes me in and makes sure my room is clean (forgives our sin), but in the end just wants my money (life)?  Or does He abuse His power like the crazed scientist, and create cruel circumstances to see how I’ll react?

I get a glimpse of the power of God in Amos 1:2, where it reads, “The Lord roars from Zion and thunders from Jerusalem; The pastures of the shepherds dry up and the top of Carmel withers.”

In the Bible, God takes on different names to convey the attribute that best describes His character in that particular moment.  “The Lord is my shepherd” is one example, where God is shown to be a gentle and wise leader.

In this scenario, The Lord roars from Zion and thunders from Jerusalem.

I recently experienced this sort of unbridled power while hiking in the mountains.  I’m not savvy on wildlife behavior, and the dominant thought during my hike involved how to avoid being eaten by animals who jump out of trees.  As I hiked further from my vehicle and the trees closed in, one thought pressed in on my mind:

“Could I kill a bear with my bare hands?”

The thought of a bear, with power coursing through every muscle fiber, charging at me while I patiently waited for the moment to lock my hands around its neck and squeeze for dear life didn’t make me feel more brave.  It was an experience much like telling ghost stories around the campfire.  It just made everything that much scarier.

Terrifying, to say the least.

Amos 1:2 constructs an image of God as a roaring lion ferociously attacking, ripping apart its prey with both efficiency and brute strength.  Is this an example of God using His sheer power to terrify a group of people because He’s bored and He wants to see some excitement?  Or is this an example of something else?

In Amos’ day, exploitation, wealth, and profit were the societal hallmarks.  The rich owned several houses and could afford to do whatever they pleased.  Moral standards, authority and rule of law were afterthoughts.  Society had lost its awe of God and who He was.

North American culture is in much the same rut as the Israelite culture of Amos’ day.  As a resident of that culture, I comfortably live in that same mindset, where possessions are collected, wealth is pursued, and morality becomes increasingly gray.  And yet God is powerful enough, concerned enough, loving enough to roar like an untamed lion because He sees that it is not the fullness of life that He has intended.  He is roaring not out of a bloodlust for destruction, but because He is a God who is intent on saving His people from their bondage to materialism and greed.

I am in awe of such power.  The God of the universe is roaring.

Questions: How does your life compare to that of Amos’ day? What steps do you need to take in order to make a change more pleasing to God?

About the Author Shaun Smith

A few weeks ago, my wife sat with me and listened to a downloaded sermon while traveling to visit family. We listened to inspired words of hope from a message presented by Erwin McManus, an informative and refreshing voice of truth.  I was able to remain in this reflective environment for a few hours, and think on how God was at work in my life.

During my morning commute, I often start my day with a great community of like-minded individuals who revive me in my faith.  Sometimes I am deeply challenged by the interaction; other times I am encouraged through shared laughter.  I am in the subway, listening to a Christian podcast that I enjoy.

There is a considerable movement within Christian ministries to venture beyond having a static online presence to creating an online ministry that extends beyond the walls of traditional church.  Many ministries and church leaders are making use of iTunes, Twitter, Facebook, RSS feeds, blogs, and podcasts (to name a few) as a way to reach a greater audience.  While it’s not meant to replace the local church (remember, God wants community!), it is a great way to spend a few moments each day interacting with the online community of God.

I am encouraged by the fact that ministry leaders are undertaking such a creative venture.  Efforts to reach a generation connected by the internet should continue to be applauded and encouraged (even if they fail!).  However, it is important to keep in mind the purpose for the technology.  While it’s outstanding that there are resources available to help me deepen my faith, I need to be careful not to become engrossed in the consumerist mindset.

In the age of technology, it is easy to search out the most charismatic, polished, informative speaker or most elaborate worship band and regard my local church as the “amateur hour” (although my church is great at what they do).  Anything less than the most innovative worship bands or keynote speakers can quickly cause us to be discouraged and write off the local church’s efforts.  In addition, Christian podcasts or chat groups can easily become just another way to fill my spiritual “need”, when instead I need to be focused on Jesus’ calling on me for the world.  During my morning commute, I enjoy listening to the Relevant podcast  (look it up on iTunes) and tuning out the crowded train.

As my fellow passengers jostle and bump each other (and me), I can lose sight of the fact that I am surrounded by people. I am surrounded by inner city, with its apparent needs and brokenness. As Brian McLaren once wrote, “we should always use it [technology] with care, remembering that Jesus modeled personal incarnation, not projection and amplification.”  I believe that my Christian faith needs to remember to take off the headphones and engage the world around me. Otherwise, I have bought in to the deception of consumerism, where it’s all about me and my needs.

The gospel, with its eternal truths, needs to continue to be presented through culturally relevant methods that point new generations to Jesus.  Because after all, it is not about rolling out the edgiest podcast, or the most up-to-date Twitter feed.  It’s about the One who gave me the ability to think of new ideas, and impact those around me in fresh ways. It’s about the message of hope, and life, and belonging – things that each individual and every generation desires to fully realize in their own life.  The message of hope that comes from One source – Jesus Himself.

What are ways that technology can add to our spiritual lives?  Where are the pitfalls of spirituality in the age of the internet?

Get involved: Explore how you can be involved in your spare time from your own home, with a growing Internet ministry, TruthMedia!

That’s my opening salvo as I wake up with my morning coffee. I haven’t brought along flowers or chocolates. I haven’t written a small poem expressing my undying affection (I haven’t even technically asked a question…or showered).

My wife responds, “Why don’t we go out this Friday instead?”

It’s midweek, and I’ve recently survived having twelve children — under the age of eight — under one roof for the past week. Freshly-planted flowers, lawn ornaments, and great-grandmothers have been under siege by flying footballs and undersized shoes. The kids have dominated the agenda from the time the youngest wakes up to the time when the oldest falls asleep. But now, in the relative quiet, one thought percolates in my brain as I greet this morning’s coffee:

“Did I talk to my wife today?”

The reality of married life when children are part of the equation, is that much of life becomes about the kids. Between blowing out the candles on a first birthday cake and graduating from university, it is easy to get lost in the race to stay involved. Children are wonderful gifts from God, and it is right to want to speak volumes of love and truth into their lives. After all, they’re your kids. Feeding, entertaining, challenging, listening, and loving kids to their fullest potential is an excellent (and realistic) use of time. After all, it’s all about the kids.

It’s all about the kids?

This phrase has been repeated by parents across the world. It’s all about the kids. Get the kids to soccer, take them to Disneyland, help them with their school projects. It’s all about the kids. Recently, on an episode of Jon & Kate Plus Eight, this mantra was repeated once again. For a couple with eight kids, this phrase takes on a new reality. To program the lives of eight little ones is an exhausting thought in itself. Making a relationship work between two people is difficult enough. It would be even more difficult with eight kids involved. As events have unfolded on the show, and the marriage has broken down, the parental chant has been echoed: it’s all about the kids.

In North America, the divorced family has become the normal state of operation. It’s not the place of this article to heap scorn on the divorced family unit. However, this is not the best case scenario either. Given a choice between a healthy marriage versus an amicable separation, I think that an overwhelming majority would vote for the former.

Making a healthy choice

Perhaps, it might not be all about the kids. If life is all about the kids, what is the point of marriage? Many marriages are all about the kids because there is nothing going on between the parents. Priorities can shift to the point that the kids become the only conversation in the room.

Newly engaged or married couples should take note – it can never be just about the kids. As a parent, life is messy and frantic, but if it is to be all about the kids then it must be all about mom and dad’s relationship too. If a healthy family dynamic is the goal, then a healthy relationship between husband and wife must be cultivated. Healthy marriages make for healthy families.

If it really is all about the kids, then start where it matters. The marriage relationship mirrors a deeper sense of love and commitment than any backpacking trip to the mountains or new toy could ever teach. The love kids see between their parents educates them on how to give and receive love, and will set them up for success later in life. As much as it is up to you, let your kids see you love, respect and genuinely like their other parent.

Marriage is a continual work in progress, whether the kids are still at home or not. With that in mind, here are a few tips to keep a marriage healthy, even while continuing to chase the kids all over the country.

The value of hello - Mornings and nights are non-negotiable times for hello. Make sure to say ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’. There’s something about touching base, even if it’s for a moment, that helps your partner to know that they’re appreciated. Don’t let a day pass in silence.

Date night – My wife and I have gone months without a night out — and we’ve regretted it. Dates should be a regular occurrence. Aim for at least once every two weeks. If babysitters are an issue, find a friend to take the kids. Give yourself the freedom to get out (and limit any talk about the kids to the time you’re in the car so that supper conversation can focus on other things).

Turn off the TV - Nights are a great time to unwind in front of the television, but it can consume all the time you have to be together. Make sure TV watching doesn’t become the default habit when the kids are finally in bed. Those quiet hours are few and far between. Use them wisely.

Together It - Plan an event in the week to do something together. Note: this does not apply to changing diapers or cleaning the house. Do something fun – make a pizza, play a game, it doesn’t matter what you do, just make sure it’s something together!

Be intimate - Holding hands is for teenagers…and married couples too. Being intimate is a key component to a healthy marriage. Everyone has been created for intimacy. If this is being withheld at home, chances are a person will seek it out elsewhere, often in unhealthy places.

Recently, I had the opportunity to walk behind my future. I was walking behind an older couple who were hurriedly bustling home from a live theater performance. They seemed comfortable enough to walk together in silence. After a few minutes, they still hadn’t said anything. And, did I mention, they were hurrying like their house was on fire? This thought occurred to me “Is this what the future of my marriage looks like?”

I hope not. Fifty years from now I don’t want to be hurrying through life physically beside my wife but not really with her. This is why it’s important to make these choices now. I want a relationship that will last beyond the kids’ time at home. It’s time for a date.

How very spiritual of me.

I listen to great worship music, engage with a thoughtful and informative speaker, and  leave with the five-hundred other very spiritual people who have made the trek to church this morning.  I walk across the street to a coffee shop, sit down in huge comfy chair and think:

“Why is this church stuff so important?”

Attending church has been a mixed blessing for me.  As a former youth pastor, church has been both a sanctuary of thoughtful challenge, healing, and creativity as well as a battleground of intimidation, pressure, and mistrust.  I have participated in church services where protection-ism and tradition dominate.  I’ve sat in services where the greeting from the front is about as authentic as the soap-water coffee in the back.

I’ve also had the joy of experiencing seasons of patient healing, where a body of people has surrounded me and loved me back to health.  I’ve seen what church can look like when people drop the agenda and engage in relationship.  I’ve experienced church where the overriding desire was to live life together, and to be real and authentic and it has all happened, surprisingly, within the walls of a church.

Mixing the C’s

When talking about church, it’s important not to get confused between big ‘C’ Church and small ‘c’ church.  So often, I hear that it’s important to attend church on Sunday morning, as if that’s as far as affiliation needs to go.  And so many people approach Sunday as the day given to God, and walk out the doors having completed their duty of faith.  They focus on the small ‘c’ church, where programs and outreaches and bible studies take place.  It reduces faith to a to do item in my calendar.

If that’s the apex of the Christian faith, then I’m not interested.

Church is more than just a meeting. Church is all about being a community where inspiration to do greater good takes place, where deeper love is explored, where enriching relationships occur, where authentic living is the goal.   Church is supposed to be a community where individuals are cared for, where gifts are used effectively, where I am challenged to grow beyond myself.  This is the capital ‘C’ Church that I so frequently yearn for.

I have heard the analogies that the church is like a campfire, where I need to return on a weekly basis to warm up my soul.  Or that the church is a well of water, where I can drink and be refreshed and then reenter the weekly desert.  The reality, however, is that church can become a bit mundane, and I struggle to keep it from becoming a religious duty.  In my own years of youth ministry, there were many times when I found myself glancing at my watch, waiting for the end of the service.  I was frequently more refreshed by the football game after church than by the service itself.  And again, the question arose:

Why is church so important?

The small ‘c’ church can be a time where we  catch a glimpse the capital ‘C’ church, even amidst the programmed service.

Programmed whispering

1 Kings 19:11-12 reads The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”  Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.”

A gentle whisper.  I expect God to show Himself using the grandest methods available.  After all, He is God, isn’t He?  So in my own life, I look for the powerful wind, the earthquake, the fire.  In church services, I have defaulted to looking for God in the sermons, in the worship music, in the altar call.  And that is good, and God can be found there, but sometimes, God is calling me to something quieter.

A whisper.

If you find yourself at church, looking for God in the big elements of the service and not finding Him, consider that God may be there whispering.  The problem with whispering is that it requires effort to hear.  It involves an expectant perceptivity where you and I believe God will speak to us in any circumstance – even if it’s not in the schedule.  Whether you feel your church is the best in the world, or needs improvement, as long as it’s biblical, God is in that service.  Remember Matthew 18:20.  In The Message it looks like this, “when two or three of you are together because of me, you can be sure that I’ll be there.”  One of the main reasons church is important is simply this – we go because God is there.

Hiding the Church in the foyer

For me, hearing the whisper of God at church happened quite by accident.  I was running in between the sound booth and the stage (ah, the life of a youth pastor) and was stopped by an elderly woman who wanted to talk.  And as we talked, we talked about meaningful things.  Amidst the rush and pressure of the church Sunday program, I was met with someone who wanted to engage meaningfully.

We missed the worship, and we very nearly missed the sermon (and I was preaching).  Yet I went away from the service with a taste of God’s vision for the church.  Through the moment with my elderly friend, God whispered truths of love, meaning, and hope into my life.  I witnessed a miracle in the foyer, while the worshippers filled the sanctuary with music.

Since that time, I’ve learned to be more attentive to the capital ‘C’ church.  I watch for those moments when God’s vision for the Church comes alive.  I anticipate moments when we get it right, when people who are hurting, who are thriving, who are living life surround me and together we listen for the voice of God.  If that happens on Sunday morning, or in a Bible study, or as while throwing a frisbee together with friends in the park, God is whispering.  This is the lifeblood of the Church.

How do we become more aware of the voice of God through the Church?  It’s less spiritual than you might think.  Here are the things that I’ve found are helpful in my own life:

> Live Expectantly. Pray that God would allow you to hear from Him today.  As you walk through your day, don’t attempt to manufacture some deep spiritual experience.  It will happen, and it may be something as simple as a two-minute conversation.

> Watch Actively. This is key to the whole experience. In 1 Kings 19, Elijah is instructed to go out and stand.  Watch for the voice of God, but let His gentle Spirit be your guide.  To often I wait for the momentous movements of God and I miss out on the small intimate moments.

> Reflect Wholeheartedly. When those wonderful gentle whispers happen in my own life, I make sure to say thanks to God, because He speaks so much love into my life in those moments.  This is not a forced moment of long prayer times; it often is more heartfelt with a simple thank you for God’s goodness.  It is these moments that keep my own spirit gentle and tuned in to God’s voice.

I’m excited to go to Church this week.  I’m looking forward to meaningfully engaging with those around me.  But most of all, I’m excited to hear from the gentle whisper of God.  After all, that’s the foundational essence of the Church.

What have your church experiences been like? Let us know in the comments area below or talk to use privately if you feel like sharing how you’ve been blessed or hurt by a church.

I am sprawled in a recliner, twenty feet from the ocean.  This is the extent of my activity.
Submerged in sunshine, I contemplate life and the panorama before me.  I can see surging breakers, rolling over an azure ocean.  Some waves crash in the sun-drenched waters; others roll onwards through deep shrouds of blue.  A few of them timidly cling to the horizon, silent flashes of possibility.  The rest of the waves vigorously introduce themselves as crashes and shushes on the shoreline.

From my recliner, looking out at the ocean I can see everything.  When we’re in the water, the experience is vastly different.

In the water you feel the pull of the waves. Each wave transforms into an adventure or a challenge for you to overcome.  The crashing of the water is no longer a gentle, white foam.  Instead, each wave becomes a brusque interruption of thunderous chaos – sand, salt, and grit beating against your body.  The perspective is not academic, it’s immediate, visceral.  In the water you can’t see the following waves.  All you can see is the next one coming right at you.

I tend to live in the thunderous chaos.  This is my default mode of doing life.

Defaulting to expectations

A trusted friend once told me, “Life is drudgery.  It’s about putting your nose to the grindstone and getting through it.”  Drudgery?  What a statement.  And yet my own existence betrays me.

My reality is this: I often awake to expectations. It’s not all bad and dreary, but my objective list frequently warms up before my shower does.  My day is planned before I wake-up. I just check in.  And if I’m honest, there have been time in my life where my daily schedule has been less about enjoying the ocean and more about finding my footing.

Waves – troubles, worries, hard situations — impact, one after another, on our soft souls.  Meet this deadline! Crash!  Get the kids to soccer!  Crash!  Get a new job, find time for your spouse, make new friends, make a life-altering decision – crash, crash, CRASH!  It’s easy to become a walking function.  Drudgery becomes my reality more often than I care to admit.

Wandering away from wonder

How’s the view in your life? Are you riding an exciting wave or just barely holding up against the undertow? Perhaps you’ve stood strong against the waves for weeks, months, even years at a time.  Or maybe there are moments where a question begins to surface as the waves thunder: Where has the wonder of life gone?

Do you remember those times when you were excited to live in the moment?  Where owning a house wasn’t about remodeling the bedroom, but it was about being in your own house?  Do you remember when going to the beach was all about throwing rocks for a few hours?  Think back, can you remember the days of wonder?

Stuffing in a shirt

We use this phrase around our house — stuffing in a shirt.  It refers to life situations when it doesn’t matter who is doing the task, all that matters is that the task gets done.  In those moments, I’m not me, I’m just a guy pouring cereal or changing a diaper.  It’s like I’m not even there. Have you ever walked through days like this?  Have you had moments when you feel like you lose yourself in the functions of life?  For that reason, it is good to be here in this moment, contemplating from my recliner.

As I sit and reflect, my mind keeps turning over a profound statement made by Jesus, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”  Sometimes I get “having life to the full” confused with filling my schedule.  In order to experience a full life, it has been ingrained in me that I need to run at life “full-tilt” and “grab life by the horns” (or is it the bull?).  We’re told that “life is short so play hard”, and my personal favorite – “go.”  Or to quote Fight Club, “This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.”

Translation: busyness gives your life meaning.

We’re taught that speed equals value.  If you go faster, you must be doing better.  To be busy is to be successful, spiritual, productive, or…( insert your favorite compliment here).  To experience enjoyment in this life means to be doing something.  It doesn’t matter if it’s rock climbing, jumping out of planes, or doggedly pursuing the top of the corporate ladder.

We’re told that we need to be busy, to be making memories, to be doing life so that our life has more meaning.  It’s as though a full life is something that I can attain for myself and the only thing holding me back is the limit on my credit cards.  I want to live fully, so what better way than to cram my schedule to its fullest potential?

Right?

Busy losing the meaning

I believe the keyword that we are searching for here is balance.  God wants us to be challenged in this life, to experience the world that He has created for us.  But in the midst of the madness of our weekly schedules, it is important to not substitute busyness for meaning.

What can we do when we’ve committed ourselves to a schedule that should include five assistants and a secretary? How do we keep our balance in the midst of the waves bearing down on us?  These are a few of the strategies I employ to avoid feeling like stuffing in a shirt.

Time for reflection is key. I know, I know, talk about being naive.  But ask yourself this, is being busy so important that I don’t have time to think about what I’m doing?  Is there time for enjoyment?  If being busy is the ultimate goal, then perhaps this is the first thing that needs to change.

Plan for breaks. Many times in our family’s life, we’ve needed a plan for rest or we find ourselves at the mercy of the waves.  Having a plan in place, we are able to schedule in meaningful time for each other.  Make-your-own-pizza-nights (Saturday) and quiet times (7-8pm), all have been programmed into our family’s schedule with the intent of building more meaningful time and less busy time.

Appreciate the wonder. Whether you’re chasing your two-year old around the playground or enjoying a relaxed cup of coffee, be in the moment.  Enjoy the wonder of life, savor the way your kids run, or the movement of the clouds, or just stop and hit pause.  You’ll be glad you did, and it will give you a greater appreciation (and energy) for the busy times.

I stretch out on my recliner, the advance and retreat of waves challenging my ability to remain motionless.  Crash!  Shush.  Crash!  Shush.  The waves continue in their pursuit of advancement.

It’s good to be here in this moment.  Reclining.  Appreciating.

Recovering wonder.

More ways to find a balance:
Balancing work and family
Life Lesson: Learn how to manage your time

A bomb is meant to kill.  To destroy.

Bombs of various shapes and functions are killing innocents in Africa, damaging oil pipelines in British Columbia, delivering mayhem to cities across the planet.  There’s little room for wavering about the function of a bomb: it is meant to conduct violent destruction to its surroundings.

I’ve had the experience of a bomb going off in close proximity twice in my life.  It disturbs the normal function and routines of daily life.  One moment the world is normal – plans can be made and the expectation is that those plans will be fulfilled.  The next moment, it’s difficult to get on a subway or a bus without looking for something that shouldn’t be there.  A small package.  A backpack.  Anything that is out of place becomes malicious and threatening.  Yet I’ve never had the experience of a bomb going off in my immediate proximity (nor do I care to have this experience).

That’s why this article from the Langley Times challenges me.  As a citizen, my immediate reaction is to cry out for justice.  Find the criminal, hunt him or her down.  By any means necessary, justice must be swift and ferocious.  In my perfect world, the criminal will be caught, publicly apologize with profuse crying and groveling, and then sent away to the Island of No-Return.  Forgiveness?  What a ridiculous idea!

And yet the victims of this senseless attack choose this unexpected path – forgiveness.  Where is the retribution?  Where is the hatred?  Whether it’s a physical bomb, or an emotional one given to us by a coworker or a friend or a family member, each of us have the potential of inflicting pain on those around us that can be long-lasting and deep.  And when it happens to us, our default response is to desire – or demand! – some sort of justice.  “I need to have my hurts recognized,” we cry out.  “I need to make sure that the offending party knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that they have been wrong.”  It doesn’t matter if the hurt is catastrophic or is as insignificant as someone cutting me off in traffic.  I demand justice!  I will roar up on the person in front of me, just so they know that they have done me a terrible injustice, and there!  Now you know that you have wronged me because I am currently riding one foot from your bumper!  Or, “oh family member, you must know how hurt I am!  So I am going to remove my relationship from your life for the next few months/years so you can feel the pain you have brought about!”  There, justice!  It feels so good!  It feels so right!

It feels so empty.

The ridiculousness of God’s idea of forgiveness is that it not only frees me from the shackles of vengeance but it directs its attention outward as an extension of grace.  I love the response from Gary Stevenson, “We have no bitterness, but my heart breaks for this person because they are hurting.”   What began as an act of violence had the potential to create a downward spiral of hatred and retribution for the Stevenson family.  Instead, this family has chosen a posture of forgiveness, opening doors to demonstrate this incredible idea to their community.  And perhaps that’s something that I need more of in my own life.  From the family member who utters an unkind word, to the coworker who causes tension, to the passing stranger who shatters the ideal plan for my upcoming day, God’s intention is that I would live under the idea of grace and forgiveness.  After all, I’m not perfect either.

The real truth is that the act of forgiveness is meant to heal.  It is never meant to harm or kill or bring about revenge.

Forgiveness is meant to restore.  To bring life.

I’m challenged by God’s belief in the ridiculous.

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Having trouble forgiving? Talk about it with someone.
Forgive yourself

What happens when life doesn’t play by our rules?  I love the ending line of the article, “this is not what we had planned.”  It’s as though putting time into advancing our education, investing our effort into some unseen future, or planning for a favorable event to occur automatically guarantees success.

Coming out of college, I felt letdown by the fact that I couldn’t make the transition from four years of higher education into the exact job that I wanted.  I invested the time, effort and money into my future.  Yet my place of employment, while not terrible, was not the dream job I’d envisioned.

How could life be so unpredictable?

I’ve found that these same feelings of entitlement often creep up in my faith.  So often, I feel discouraged by the fact that my relationship with God “isn’t good enough”.  It is not deep enough, emotionally-involved enough, flashy enough.  Even during times when I’ve checked off all my spiritual guidelines for the week, I frequently find that my faith chooses not to move any discernable mountains.

Thankfully, God builds in to us using more impacting, long-term methods.  2 Peter 1:5-7 tells us that we are to “make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love.”  These are the working tools of a God who wants to see us grow into mature brother and sisters in Christ.  So I need to constantly remind myself that God knows better than my tyrannical feelings of entitlement do.  And I need to ask myself, am I living the life that God wants for me, or am I listening to the voice of entitlement? God wants to build into me a character that will last, no matter what life chooses to throw at me.  And that is more than enough.