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.

Your mentor will email you using our secure system, The Mentor Center (TMC).  TMC ensures your privacy by protecting your information.  If you want to keep talking, just hit reply.  The conversation is free, confidential and non-judgmental.   You can keep talking to your mentor as long as you like and there is never a fee.   If you’re curious, start a conversation.  We’re ready when you are.

I’ve grown to enjoy the day when we celebrate another year in the history of our nation.  I like walking down to the park, listening to the music, watching the multitude of flags flying from car hoods and childrens’ hats and marching bands.  I like watching my kids run around while the band plays our national anthem.

I especially love the giant flag cake.

It’s a big deal when the cake arrives.  It arrives on its own special car, at the end of a parade of old-fashioned cars, and is big enough to feed several hundred patriots.
There’s something special about celebrating the place where you live.  It’s a small portion of a day where one can proudly say “this place is a good place to live. And for that, I’m thankful.”  This is what we call patriotism.

Patriotism: The academic edition

In our current reality, patriotism has become closely intertwined with images of battle, conflict, and supporting our troops.  Being a patriot conjures up images of flags waving in the background, with immaculately-trained troops going to battle against an invisible enemy.   I can admit it, I’m a war aficionado.

Given the choice of learning about history, or the history of warfare, I’d default to the latter.  I enjoy learning about the weaponry and the political maneuverings of warring states.  I’ve even spent time in Israel studying the details of modern and historical warfare.  Not that I’m a gun nut (or even remotely so), but the details of history are fascinating to me.

Call me a war geek.

It’s not my fault, really.  As a young child of about eight, my brother and I discovered my grandfather’s naval uniform in a trunk, tucked away in the basement of his house.  Inside this trunk were things we had never seen in real life.  A naval uniform, complete with a hat, sat neatly folded in the bottom of the trunk.  A few bullets, the size we had never seen, had been collected.  There were newspaper clippings of men in uniform standing aboard a ship, saluting perfectly.

It was as if we had stumbled across a family treasure.  What had my grandfather done while in this very uniform?  What lands had it seen?  What sort of battles had it been a witness to?  How had my grandfather felt while he was wearing this uniform?

It wasn’t until later in life that I rediscovered this passion for history.  In university, I was forced to take a class called The Violent Century: a Look at Historical Warfare.  I begrudgingly sat for three hours as a professor ranted about the details of modern combat between nations.  However, as the semester wore on, there was a growing problem.

I was hooked.

The brilliance of my professor was found in his recounting of the historical record.  It wasn’t about dates.  It wasn’t about accomplishments.  It was about the humanity behind the history. What were soldiers thinking when they first donned their gas masks and engaged the enemy?  What kind of emotions took hold when a fellow soldier was killed by an invisible sniper?  How did it feel to live in the trenches of the Second World War?  Even more recently, how does our country engage in conflict and how does it affect the family life of soldiers?

My experience with guns and conflict and war have been limited to two venues: an exercise in academics and through the lens of CNN.  I am limited to the snapshots of war – another soldier killed, a military exercise over there, a soldier returning home.

Patriotism: The human edition

I recently had the experience of encountering a soldier in full uniform.  On the news that night, I had seen that one battalion had returned home after serving on a tour in Afghanistan.  Immediately, I wanted to approach him and thank him for what he had done for my country.  I mean, when we’re talking about patriotism, these people are on the front lines of the definition.

Being a patriot is literally defined as one who loves and defends his or her country. Regardless of your opinions on the current wars raging across our world, there are men and women, fellow human beings, fighting in the wars that we watch on our television screens.

I walked past the soldier.

Either out of embarrassment or timidity, I didn’t say anything.  I’m not sure I would know what to say, except a stumbling “thank you.”  This has been the extent of my experience in patriotism.  And yet the news has brought to me an entirely new perspective on patriotism and war.  Recently, on a few major news sites, there have been a regular occurrence of men and women returning home from the war.  Soldiers returning to their families.

The best images have come from inside classrooms.  Dads and Moms, dressed in fatigues, surprising their young children by coming home early.  Inevitably, the child breaks down in tears, runs to Mommy or Daddy, and weeps uncontrollably into the uniform of their country.

Well, color me patriot.

Strip away the flag-waving politicians and the loud military music and our nation is about people.  It’s people with families and friends, individuals who have chosen to serve in a way that our country calls them to.  Dads who have daughters and sons waiting at home — daughters with bright futures and sons with developing potential.  Mothers who have the invaluable gift of nurturing and loving.

If becoming a patriot is to love one’s country, despite its flaws and mistakes, then by extension, it means loving the people that are part of that country. And, despite the fact that some of those citizens cut me off on my way to work this morning, there is something great about being able to celebrate our nationality together.  It is wonderful to be free to let our kids run around while our national anthem plays.  It is a gift to lay in a park, listening to music play from a community band, to enjoy the celebration of another year in our nation.  It’s incredible to be able to wave our flag and think about the blessed life that we are able to take part in, to say ‘thank you’ to those soldiers in uniform that pass us on the street.

And, of course, to eat flag cake.

Related reading:
Military Lives – The amazing life stories of patriots who fight for their country
Confronting Giants – An online interactive life study on finding strength to face life’s challenges

“Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?  Actually, who are you not to be?”

I am standing in a crush of three-year-old pint-sized princesses. Surrounded by sparkling tiaras and frilly dresses, these little daubs of pink and purple are up way past their collective bed time.  We giggle.  We dance.  We wait patiently for the real princess to arrive.  Well, at least a real princess played by an actress.

Finally, the moment arrives.  Belle, the beauty from Beauty & The Beast, walks in to the room.  As she comes out from backstage, I  can see it in my daughter’s eyes.  The beauty is here.  My daughter climbs out of my arms, fixes her purple dress, and runs toward her.

Running to beauty

We are all attracted to beauty.  Beauty sells magazines.  Beauty drives our self-perception.  When I counseled teens, the issue of distorted definitions of beauty came up on a weekly basis. Our society hasn’t left us wondering what beauty is.  Beauty is full lips.  Beauty is long flowing hair.  Beauty is a body shape Barbie would be envious of.  Beauty wears the right clothes, surrounded by the right friends, and always plays with the right toys.  We’ve immersed ourselves in cultural perceptions of beauty, so much so that we don’t know where to turn.  We are consumed with the concept.

As I watch my daughter wrap her arms around Belle, a concern reveals itself in my mind.  What chance do I have to speak truth into my daughter’s life?  As she grows, who will inform her on what beauty is?

I’ve been told by culture (and a few friends) that a father’s most important job is to provide. Be strong.  Be courageous.  And bring home the cash. Become “the provider for all, and the enemy of all,” as J. August Strindbergto once so eloquently wrote.  On TV the only other option is to fill the role of a bumbling, awkward individual — the comedic outlet in the family fabric (see world-famous dad Homer Simpson).  Is there room for a father to “woo” his daughter and reflect God’s heart for her?  Are those moments as rare as a dance at a graduation, followed by another at her wedding?

Wooing your daughter’s heart

The role of father is vitally important to the emotional and spiritual (not to mention relational!) well-being of a daughter.  A Dad is not just a provider, protector, and live-in comedian.  Neither is a mother only a cook, cleaner, and sole provider of “the nurture factor”.

A father has the ability, to reflect the love that the Father has for us.  He has the opportunity to “woo” his daughter’s heart – to let her taste the depth and strength of love.  He is given the capability to speak the truth of beauty deeply into the heart of his daughter.

The tragic truth is this – if fathers do not take the opportunity to speak beauty into their daughters’ lives, someone else happily will.  Turn your television on to any station and watch for a few minutes.  Volunteer to chaperone a junior high dance.  These are the prevailing voices of beauty in our culture.  These are the voices your daughter (or son) will hear every day.

I want my daughter to know that she is beautiful. Not just for the reason that she could star on Toddlers and Tiaras, or even because she is smart, and talented, and funny.  Those are all wonderful things and part of the gift of a daughter, but I want her to know that she is deeply beautiful because of Who made her.  I want her to believe that her Father desires a deep and meaningful relationship with her, and so do I.

I want to be someone she can trust, someone she can talk with, someone she can walk through life together with.  I want to be someone who can humbly and brokenly reflect the love that her Heavenly Father has for her.  I want to woo the heart of my daughter so that she knows that her beauty transcends the length of her hair, the color of her eyes, the ability with which she reads.

After all, who is she?

“…who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?  Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.”

She is a child of God — and so are you.  God has created you beautifully.

As fathers, we have the gift of engaging in our daughters’ lives meaningfully.  And to unveil the true meaning of beauty found in each of our daughters.

Take a deep breath

It’s important, Dads, to take a deep breath.  You’ve likely walked through the feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt that come with parenting already in your journey.  This segment of your daughter’s life – no matter if she is a two year old dress-twirler or a fourteen year old boy-chaser – is a great time to speak beauty into your daughter’s life.  So take few tips from a fellow bumbling live-in comedian:

> Open your ears. Chances are, if she’s older than two, she’s using more words than you do.  When you listen, you’re communicating more than attention in her life.  You’re signifying that her world is a priority and that she is worthy of your interest.

> Be in the moment with her. With a thousand other pressures confronting fathers, it is easy to tune out.  These are the moments you live for, not what’s coming for you tomorrow at work.

>Two words: date night. This is a special phrase in our house.  The word date means undivided attention over breakfast, at a restaurant, walking with candy apples.  It’s a time when my daughter can talk to her Dad.  (And believe me, she does.)

So I stand here and reflect, amidst the mass of little princesses, as my daughter embraces Belle and looks back at me.  And when she looks back, I hope she begins to understand that her daddy is in this moment with her, that she is loved, and that she is beautiful.

More Thoughts
Take a free online study about true beauty

With many forms of media available to our culture, community is now found in different venues. Emerging generations may not find themselves sitting in a church pew on a Sunday morning, but yet have an awareness of the greater church community. According to Christianity Today, “Emerging generations may not see themselves as churched, but neither do they see themselves as any less committed.” Podcasts, magazines, online radio, and television are innovative methods being employed by churches and church leaders across North America to reach these emerging generations.

Whether you’re meeting in an organized church, or online with a community of like-minded believers, how do you approach church? Too frequently we join a group because it gives us something without asking too much in return. Is your “church event” a time to receive from your community, or are you there to serve and contribute?

Even more importantly, ask yourself this – am I part of an affiliation of believers, or am I attempting to do faith on my own? Christianity is a communal faith. It’s not meant to be lived in isolation. If you don’t have one, look around for a place of belonging , whether it’s in your local community, online, or in some other venue. Your faith will be deepened for it.

The edges of the screen are fuzzy and peaceful looking. The seats are appropriately spaced. People tilt their seats back with a smile (and with plenty of room on both sides). Children are sitting cross-legged in their seats with their safety belt fastened perfectly around their little waists. The airplane swooshes gently into a sky laden with puffy clouds.

Welcome to your flight.

I am relaxed by the in-flight commercial, until my knee bumps the chair in front of me and jiggles the screen (and a fellow passenger, sorry!). I wish I was as short as the people in the safety video. As the flight gets longer, my already insufficient leg room shrinks. The person in front of me decides to play a cruel joke and tilt his seat back to take away what precious room I have left. And then the child two rows over decides that now would be a good time to test out her singing ability.

But there is a moment, when I get my satisfaction.

The beverage cart comes around, and I order a can. I’ve noticed that when you order a can of anything, they give you the full can. Not just a small cup, but an entire drink all to yourself. Insignificant as it may seem, it is my one moment of bliss.

Welcome to my flight.

As with any flight, there are ways to make your experience a bit better. You just need to come prepared. With your sanity and survival in mind, I offer up the best 10 gadgets to have on a flight.

#10 – The Neck Pillow
Sure, it’s not really a gadget in technical terms. But after watching Lord of the Rings for three hours straight, trust me, you will thank me. Your mini DVD player does not double well as a pillow. A neck pillow will help keep you from sleeping on your neighbor’s shoulder (which means you might actually get to sleep) and guarantees that you won’t spend the next few hours working the kink out of your neck.

#9 – Cell phone
This is a great gadget to have on the plane…so you can put it away! Nothing is more annoying than someone trying to talk on a cell phone above the noise of the plane. So please, set your ringer to quiet, text to your heart’s content, and realize that your conversations are much more enriching when you’re not sharing them with the three rows in front of you.

#8 – Charger
Some airlines come equipped with a standard plug-in for all of your gadgetry. Bring along a charger just in case. Instead of hoping that you have just one more minute of battery life left (and three hours of flying), you’ll be able to keep your devices fresh. (And you’ll be able to finish your Rocky marathon!)

#7 – iPod
Tired of your music? Download an audio book in advance of your flight. If that doesn’t entertain you, try out a few new podcasts. They’re a great way to learn about something new and pass the time. Just make sure you charge the battery before you board. Or better yet, bring item #8.

#6 – DVD Player
What better way to spend the flight than to catch up on a few movies? If you’re riding with a friend, bring an adaptor (or buy a DVD player with several headphone ports). They’re not too expensive and they make the hours fly by. Several airports offer DVD rentals and a few major hubs have kiosks where you can rent a player to take with you.

#5 – Tooth Brush
Again, it’s not technically a gadget (unless its electric). But if you’re stuck on a long flight, there is nothing better than spending a few minutes stretching out and brushing your teeth. Not only will it help you feel refreshed, but it’ll make your drool smell a little bit nicer when you fall asleep without your neck pillow.

#4 – Portable Gaming System
Just like their full-sized cousins, a portable gaming system offers hours of entertainment. But don’t get too carried away when you finally rescue the princess from the angry dragon. (Space is limited.) If you’re intent on doing this for a few hours, you may want to cart along another set of batteries, just in case! (That handy charger works here too.)

#3 – A bottle for water
Chances are the small shot of water they give you from the beverage tray will help…for the next ten minutes. Carry on a small bottle of water to help keep you hydrated. You’ll be so happy that you’ll forget this isn’t technically a gadget.

#2 – Laptop
This is probably the best gadget to have on a plane — provided you’re not spill-prone. If you’ve got a laptop, make sure it is charged (or see #8) and bring your favorite movies or games along (or, if you must, get some work done).

#1 – Headphones
This is the greatest invention known to airlines (and probably the reason they charge you $5 to buy them). Headphones have the potential to make or break your flight experience. Loud child two rows back? You’ve got the solution. A set of compact, noise-canceling headphones will allow you to drift away from the fact that you are crammed into a small seat beside frazzled parents with screaming babies and behind the man who tilted his chair back.

With these gadgets on hand you’re all set to enjoy your flight! Just remember, ask for the full can.

-Shaun Smith

“Fill ‘er up.”

“Yes, sir.”

As a high school student, my first job was a mystifying experience. I was officially a gas emissions technician, but you would recognize me as the guy walking up to your car to fill your gas tank.  If you were really nice, I might have even washed your windows.

“Hey, can you check the fluids?” What a question.

That’s like asking a zookeeper to make you a deluxe pulled-pork sandwich (go heavy on the barbecue sauce, please). The extent of my automotive prowess extended to gasoline and windshield wipers, but I never let that hinder me from going further. That never stopped me from trying to learn more.

With your car.

The helpful secret of automotive engineering is that there are only three or four openings into which one can pour fluids. With faith invested in me as a gas emissions technician, I would pick one of those openings and pour in a can or two of engine oil/windshield wiper fluid/transmission gunk. And then happily fill your gas tank and, perhaps, wash your window.  Nobody ever came back with a greasy windshield.

I was savvy enough to know that oil was important to an engine. I just didn’t know where to put it.

Praying through the seventh inning stretch

I often approach prayer in much the same manner. I know prayer is important. I know that if there isn’t much heart behind my words, or if I’m not praying at all, then my spirit seems to jam up. My relationship with Christ struggles. The difficulty comes in knowing where to “put” prayer within the continuum of my day.

Looking around our culture, the most heartfelt prayers I have publicly witnessed seem to occur during the World Series. Fans, usually dressed in their team’s jerseys, plead with God to give their team the victory. They pray into their baseball gloves in agony and tears, as though somehow God will hear better through the telephone line of broken-in genuine leather.

Stumbling around the unsearchable

In Jeremiah 33:3, God encourages us to call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.

Really?

I look through the Old Testament, and I see that prayer is a big deal. People cry out to God.

I often stumble over this phrase – crying out to God. It makes me feel guilty or somehow less-than-adequate when it comes to prayer. I watch as other people are able to manufacture tears when they pray, or pray in wonderfully spiritually-moving paragraphs of unbelievable depth. (It helps if they have a deep voice too!) I see great people around me praying throughout the day, or starting and ending their day with prayer, or devoting significantly important portions of their day to prayer.

Meanwhile, in my world, I default to sludging through my telemarketed prayer life. I do my part, say the words, and then end the conversation. (With my kids, I confess that often the ‘amen’ is the most exciting part because we sing it at various pitches and decibel levels). There have been moments of meaningful engagement in prayer — but they are rare enough that they have become highlights in my prayer life. So how do we achieve a deeper prayer life? How does the guy sitting next to me in prayer meeting do it?

Fishing for the shore

Unlike oil, there’s no perfect formula in putting prayer together. Prayer, in its truest form, is not about stringing together perfect phrases, or praying during a certain time (although that can be helpful to make it consistent). Prayer is about conversation with the One who knows your life more intimately than you do. Prayer allows me to tap in to a Spirit who is loving, all-knowing, all-powerful. As one theologian wrote, “Prayer is surrender to the will of God and cooperation with that will. When I throw out a fishing line from a boat and catch hold of the shore and pull, do I pull the shore to me, or do I pull myself to the shore? Prayer is not pulling God to my will, but the aligning of my will to His.”

Perhaps that’s just it. I’ve approached prayer as a merit badge, similar to how boy scouts earn fire-making badges. Maybe the time that prayer demands is something I need to let go of in my own life. Not that I achieve 12 hour prayer sessions, or only pray with words that have more than ten letters in them, but I need to simplify my approach to prayer.

Prayer is not pulling God to my will, but the aligning of my will to His.

Perhaps I need to grow up, allowing my faith to grow into a Christianity that extends beyond my demand for time. My one-sided appeal needs to stretch to listening for the sound of the shore.

Over the years, I’ve found a few insights that have abundantly helped to deepen my own prayer life. (Please note, these tips don’t include a list of words that will make you more eloquent.)

> Don’t feel guilty for missing a prayer time. Take a deep breath. When you miss a prayer time, the double-edge of guilt will appear. “Not only did I not pray today, but I also missed my prayer time!” How many times have we beaten ourselves up over this? Don’t let guilt become your motivator (or discourager) to pray!

> Don’t restrict prayer to a specific time. Yes, scheduling events into our life does help with consistency, but allow your prayer times to happen throughout the day. Begin by saying “thanks” when you’re walking through the park or looking at a great piece of artwork. Saying thanks doesn’t necessarily mean a ten minute prayer…it’s just one word. It’s a great way to keep a conversation going!

> Don’t restrict prayer to words. When we’re walking with God, often words are not enough. When you’re in a meaningful moment, let your spirit bask in the wonder. Let your heart cry out to God a spirit of thankfulness.

So I continue to walk each day, hoping to learn how to pray a little less eloquently. I hope for a little more conversation, and a little less monologue. I glance the shore and see that it is a little closer today than it was last week.

For further information and helpful tips in deepening your own prayer life, read Gregory Koukl’s 10 Tips to Help Your Prayer Life.

If you’d like prayer, we would love the opportunity to pray for you. Talk with a prayer mentor today.

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

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.

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!

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.