That's Not Me!

I am back in Philippians 2 today adding to the periodic series I am writing on the passage. Check out the other posts here, here, here, and here. It seems to be an endlessly fruitful endeavor for me as I spend time in those verses. God seems to reveal more and more about my heart and Himself in the process. Pride is a something that seem ever present in my heart sometimes subtly and sometimes overtly so this passage is always a chance for me to grow.

Do everything in selfish ambition and conceit, and in pride count yourself more significant than others. Let each of you look to your own interests and not the interests of others.

Okay, so obviously Paul doesn't put it like that in Philippians 2. However, for the sake of comparison and to help me look at my life I find that it can be helpful to flip passages like this to see if they are true of me. Often times we want to believe that our lives are in accord with scripture but sometimes seeing things written out like this can help reveal that things aren't as we might want to believe.

It is easy to read that re-written passage from Philippians 2 and say "that's not me". I bet the Philippians themselves would have said the same thing. And yet Paul felt it necessary to write these words to them and to us: "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others."

If we don't feel that my re-written words are sometimes true of us why would Paul write the words he did in fact write?

If we don't identify ourselves as selfish and proud why does Paul give us this extended passage exhorting us to be humble?

I think that if we were to really have our hearts exposed and our inner thoughts and motivations revealed we would be appalled to find that quite often we do in fact live out my re-written version of the passage.

We want to believe better about ourselves and our motives. But we all have had that little heart check that tells us to think about ourselves. Our future. Our family. Our reputation. Our comfort and safety. The list of things that we secretly consider could go on. Each one is justified in our hearts with a veneer of biblical wisdom. We are just being shrewd. Or prudent and wise. Or patient. Or careful stewards. Or trying to be 'balanced'.

Except this passage doesn't show balance. The next few verses gives us a picture of a Savior who is all in. Paul is working hard to show that there isn't really middle ground or a gray area when in comes to pride and humility. It really is an either/or endeavor. If we aren't intentional and diligent to pursue humility pride is going to creep in.

Paul knows that there is no empty space in our motives. We either proud and selfish or humble and selfless.

Philippians provides a heart check every time I read it. Perhaps that is why God has kept me coming back to this passage over and over. My heart needs some serious checking when it comes to pride. It's possible I'm the only one but a quick scan of Facebook or the comment sections online show that I am probably not the only one.

The good news is that Jesus isn't just our example in the Philippians 2 passage. He is also our provider. Trusting him allows us to give up our selfishness. We need to bend our knee to him and to humble ourselves before him. And in doing so we are given the capacity to do the same with others because we know that we are secure in Christ.

Maybe you don't connect with Paul's challenge to our pride as intimately as I do. Or maybe the fact that you don't is a warning sign that you need to dig deeper in your heart to look for pride. If I go back to my re-written version of the passage and Paul's original words I can honestly say that depending on the circumstances I will oscillate between the two in saying "that's not me". Looking to Jesus is the most sure way for me to be able to look at the re-written, selfish version and say "that's not me." Looking to Jesus is the best way for you to fight pride too!

My Biggest Parenting Fail

My wife is a natural parent. She is like a baby whisperer with newborns while I get nervous just thinking about their fragile dependence on the care of someone like myself. Once babies move past 3-4 months old and begin to do something besides eat, sleep, and poop I start to relax a bit. Still, parenting is seriously difficult work for me. I have had mishaps and parenting fails at every stage of my parenting career and in ways that my wife will never duplicate. Actually it is usually my wife who points out that "that wasn't a good idea".

There is the time (which I don't remember but Erica swears by) when I let my not-yet-two year old daughter join me on the roof when I was cleaning the gutters. Don't worry. We all survived. Miriam survived the 8 foot climb up a ladder and I survived my wife's wrath.

Then there is the time I locked myself out of the house when that same daughter was taking a nap during the same summer as the "let's go on the roof" incident. Her delight at waking up to see me pushing the air conditioner out of her window and crawling in was great to see. This happened twice.

Another parenting fail was when I road my bike across a college campus while holding/carrying our three-week-old daughter in an infant car seat. I thought the stares were the "wow, that's impressive" sort but my wife explained to me that they were "wow, that's stupid" stares.

And then there are the repeated failures at figuring out how to do my daughters hair. It's not that I don't care or don't try. It's just that the bedraggled, I-slept-through-a-tornado look comes into style at precisely the moment my wife leaves the house.

In more recent parent fail history, I thought it would be a good idea to take our oldest daughter to get her ears pierced. Without telling her mother. Didn't even ask the question. Oops.

Seeing this all written together is kind of embarrassing but remember that these were spread out over several years. Except the roof and locked-myself-out-again incidents. But still. Cut me some slack.

But my biggest parenting fail of all isn't nearly so funny or embarrassing. Early on in my older daughter's life I was really struggling with the anxiety that often comes with parenting. I woke each day very aware of the responsibility that comes with being a parent and of the reality hat I was unlikely to perfectly fulfill that responsibility. With desires to see my daughter growing, prospering and most importantly, walking with the Lord, I carried the huge burden of thinking that I really needed to get everything right as a parent. The weight of that burden and my obvious inability to perfectly protect, provide for, and nurture my daughter's faith were a recipe for all sorts of struggles for me. 

My failure was that I wasn't giving myself room for failure. Obviously we should strive to do our best as parents but I was simply not being fair with myself in acknowledging that I am both finite and fallen. It can be a crushing weight to carry someone else's future in your hands when you don't even carry your own future in your own hands. So I had to bring that burden to the Lord. I'm not a perfect person so it was a failure to think that I could be a perfect parent. 

Admitting my failures, limitations and brokenness has really helped transform my parenting. I am freed to be myself which is great in and of itself (most of the time). More importantly it has helped me look to the Lord with fervent prayer and utter dependence. I don't have to be perfect as a parent just like I don't have to be perfect before God. Jesus gets to be my perfection before God just as God gets to be the perfect Father for my children! My job is simply to point my children towards God. 

No pretense. No acting like I have it all together. Freedom to confess and apologize and seek forgiveness from my kids. No burden of being a perfect parent. An ability to laugh at mistakes and even share them with others. 

Being a walking, talking parenting failure is not such a bad thing when you see how it drives you toward dependence on God.

An 'expecting' friend recently asked for insight on parenting. My advice as a parenting failure was perhaps unexpected and looked a bit like the following:

• "Admit defeat" early in the game. You aren't going to be perfect so before the failure ever happens let yourself off the hook and resolve to be ok with falling short. 
• Learn from failure but don't burden yourself with trying to be a perfect parent. 
• Laugh at yourself and don't take parenting so seriously. Have fun with the journey.
• And finally, ask for help, mostly from the Lord.  

I'd love to hear some other parenting fails. Or some ways you've struggled as you watch your own imperfections passed on to your kids. Most of all, I'd love to know how you've been able to watch God work in your kids lives in ways you never could have worked.

Hard Conversations

I have had a week filled with hard conversations. Emotional conversations. Frustrating and confusing conversations. And I have loved it. Not because I enjoy the discomfort of the conversation but because I enjoy the fruit of the conversation. I have been thinking about what comes from leaning in to difficult subjects with people you know, love, and trust. It takes openness and a vulnerability and humility that is uncommon but if and when we can sit in the conversation long enough God begins to work something new in our hearts and minds.

As I have reflected on this week of loaded conversations I have discovered some fruitful outcomes that are a good reminder for me to engage in other difficult conversations:

• Staying present in another's pain and being able to bring your pain before them builds trust. The trust is not in the other person's actions, productivity, or ability to achieve certain things but rather the trust is in their heart and their person. When your can safely bring your intimate thoughts and feelings before others and not be crushed by them something beautiful happens in a relationship.
• Truth found together is cherished differently. There is a bond forged between people through the heat of discussions that go long enough and hard enough to get to the truth.
• Truth found together creates accountability. There is no power dynamic at play when two people truly come to an understanding through a fair process of discussion. The agreement is mutual, two-way, and something that each party can see as existing independently of any one person. It isn't "your" truth or "my" truth, but the truth.
• Saying hard things brings things in to the light. God's grace will only work on those things that we bring into the light. 
• Hard conversations force introspection. Self inventory can be hard but having someone else challenge you with new or different thoughts or observations can reveal things you wouldn't see otherwise. Imagine shining a flashlight into a dark room (your heart/life). You can see certain things well but other things remain hidden. A hard conversation and a trustworthy friend is like having a mirror placed in that room to reflect and bounce the light into new places. It multiplies and spreads the light giving you a better picture of what is there.
• Struggling through difficult issues helps you humbly realize that you might not have all the answers. While some people desperately want resolution and clarity, sticking with it through long conversations helps you realized that with some issues, especially those involving people and relationships, there isn't going to be a day where it is all figured out. Instead you can commit yourself to a journey and a process.
• Difficult conversations help you laugh at yourself. Eventually something has to break the tension, and more often than not that seems to come when someone is willing to laugh at their own mistake or missteps. 
• Hard and emotional conversations bring you to the Lord in prayer with a soft heart yearning for comfort and healing, desperate for truth and righteousness that acknowledges our absolute dependence on Him for receiving those things.

I am a passive-aggressive, stoic Minnesotan so hard, honest, and intimate conversations don't come easily. This week, even with all of its struggles and emotional wear and tear, is helping me see that there is great fruitfulness to taking the time and energy to dig in. Next step for me is thinking more about helpful and healthy ways to do that.

Running a Race

I ran a triathlon last weekend. It sounds impressive but honestly I think more people could do them than realize. The problem is that most people's exposure to them is only on tv when they show the insanely long, unhealthy-for-your-body/marriage/life Ironman triathlon. As a lifelong learner I thought I'd share some of my sarcastic and snarky observations from the event.

• Spandex really can be used on any and all body types. I wore spandex singlets for track in college and spent more time in it most people and even I am uncomfortable wearing it. I know it is comfortable for running and racing but I am not sure that just because it 'fits' that it should be worn.
• Being beat by a 53 year old doesn't hurt the ego when you realize he is a celebrity. The actor who played Roger Sterling in "Mad Men" definitely beat me. Pretty easily. Well played old man.
• My backside and the thin piece of synthetic padding that was my bike seat are not good friends. I walked away from the race with a miraculously small amount of muscle and joint soreness except for my derriere. I should invent a 'hover seat' for bikes. 
• My daughters love for me and desire to cheer for me is less than their desire to escape the boredom of watching people run and the longing to eat donuts brought to 'celebrate' with me. They were there, my wife tried to get them to really cheer, but the donuts and boredom were difficult to overcome. I should hire some cheerleaders to stand on the course next time.
• People take their hobbies too seriously. Waaaaay to seriously. It makes sense that the elite athletes who have sponsors would have bikes and equipment that cost six or eight or ten thousand dollars. It doesn't make sense that the other aging, balding, pudgy 33 year old's would have the same but they do. If you spend that kind of money you should at least be able to beat me. It's like the guy with the expensive fishing boat and latest equipment who still can't really get the fish in the boat.

Older, Rounder, and Hopefully Wiser

I am of the age where exercise and diet are conscious parts of my daily life. A few years ago this wasn't the case. The youthful days of eating whatever I wanted left several years ago. What a precious and wonderful gift of a high metabolism I had all those years.  Sigh...

Six months ago I had the misfortune of deciding to step on a scale right AFTER Christmas brunch where I was greeted by a number I had never seen before. There are rarely good surprises when one steps on the scale so I'm not sure why, after months of not checking, I felt that that fateful moment would be a good time to do so. For me, I was shocked to look down at a number that put me a few pounds heavier than my 'playing weight' when I was playing college football and eating 5,000 calories a day just to keep the weight on. Never again will I use a scale after a holiday meal!

Anyway, I have been reflecting on how I got myself into this situation. It has been a cruel trick of time that my old habits are all of sudden very detrimental to my health and well-being. A lot of life is like that. We develop habits and routines that are fitting to a specific time in life and that work within a certain place and for certain relationships. Because they work in that time/space/relationship we can trick ourselves into thinking we've got something figured out for life whether it be diet and exercise, time management, or relationships.

And then:

• we step on a scale and realize our old diet and exercise routine are suddenly not working
• we get married, get in squabbles over preferences and find that our selfish use of time doesn't work anymore and that some of our self-indulgent habits won't fly anymore
• we have kids and realize that some of the strength of our marriage was built on freedom, getting good sleep, and being selfish with our time.

It can be so easy to find ourselves backed into a corner wondering "how did I get here" when we rely on habits and routines to keep us healthy. We ought to be far more mindful and attentive to the changing demands of life so that we can adjust on the go. This would have made my Christmas morning much happier. 

It wouldn't be an issue if it only affected us but as an added kick in the pants, many of our petty fights are about these same habits, routines, and preferences. We have our way of doing things and we bring that with us through time and differing relationships and expect it to work everywhere and with everyone.

Circumstances, people, and even our bodies are always changing so it can be dangerous to become set in your ways. Life just has too much variety for us to ever settle too deeply into some of our habits and routines. That is what the scale told me on Christmas morning.

I'm not suggesting that we need to do away with routine and question whether or not brushing our teeth is good for us. But I think it is very helpful and appropriate to hold on to some of our habits and routines much more lightly than we typically do. And maybe we should build into our routine a time of self examination where we look at those habits, preferences, and routines and ask ourselves:

• "is this going to serve me well going forward?"
• "how is this impacting those I love?"
• "what circumstantial changes have I had or will I have that might re-shuffle the deck for me?"

For me and my expanding waistline asking these questions helped me make a few healthy changes to my diet and to my exercise habits. My body simply needs something different than what it did previously if I am going to remain healthy. The same is true of my marriage. And my parenting.

Chances are if you haven't given much thought to your habits, routines, and preferences you are probably holding on to some things that really won't help you in the long run. It's hard to give them up and it is difficult to change but it sure is worth it.

When Rest Is Hard

At the beginning of this year I chose “rest” as my ‘word for the year’. The idea was that I would spend the year reflecting on and seeking rest. Back in March I provided a quarter-year check-in on what the experience has been like. At the time I was encouraged by what I was learning and where I was at in terms of experiencing rest.

As a believer I knew that experiencing rest wasn’t simply a passive, action-less state. Instead rest is an active intentional pursuit of and connection with God regardless of the relative peacefulness of our circumstances. The last few months have definitely been a trial period for the thought that we can find rest in the midst of a busy, crazy life filled with unforeseen rough patches.

I don’t think that thought has failed me and I certainly don’t think God has failed me but I have failed to live that out. To be honest, I have been feeling pretty raggedy, worn out, and beat up at various stretches for the past few months. To quote a drunk man I ran into in the city: “Life just got all ‘lifey’”.

So what to do while I feel so worn out in the midst of a year spent pursuing rest?

Vacation might help. So might getting rid of the kids for a weekend. Or delegating some work responsibilities.

But I don’t think any of those is an answer for me right now. You see, part of what I’ve learned about my pursuit of rest and peace is that it is found in God and that it is accomplished through a relationship with him. Rest and peace come from relationships, primarily with Him. In order to experience rest we need God and we need community.

We rest in the arms of a loved one.

We rest in the warmth of a parent’s approving smile.

We rest in the laughter and ridiculous antics of a long-time friend.

We rest in the re-assuring eyes of a spouse whose eyes say: “you’ve got this.”

And we ache for the return of a loved one knowing their return will bring peace.

And we long for the good old days when time and space allowed for more relationships .

And we despair of being citizens of another kingdom, tarrying here until we are called to that place we will call home.  The place where other loved ones have gone before. The place where our First Love awaits us forever.

And so as I have struggled with finding rest and peace these past several weeks I have had to fight my tendency to withdraw and my desire to be alone. Those things aren’t bad, but as I have searched my heart and asked God to search me I have realized that I don’t really long for solitude. I long for Him and for His home and His family. Because He is my loving Father and His home is my home and His family is my family.

As a deer pants for water so my soul longs for him. And my soul longs for more of those cherished relationships that point me towards him.

Today I am feeling restful. Time at the lake with the Word, a slow morning with my family, and a few days spent with loved ones who love the Lord is a balm for the soul. A few days ago I thought I needed to be alone. When it gets noisy with all the kids I still think that! But much better that being alone has been being around people who can help me re-orient my life around seeking God.

Perhaps you too are craving rest. I’d encourage you to not go about finding it all on your own. Spend time on your relationship with God. Then call on those people who best point you towards him.

If you are not in that place of longing, let God use you to help bring that peace to someone else. Call that friend you haven’t talked to in a while to encourage them. Connect with that Facebook friend that you saw was going through a hard time so that you can know how to pray for them. Call your parents and tell them you love them.  Invite your single/widow/widower neighbor over for coffee or dessert. Or maybe, in the quiet and calm of the rest and peace that you have, pray the same for your loved ones.

It is often far easier to do some good in this world than we imagine. We just may help someone else connect with God along the way.

Some Anniversary Reflections

By the good Lord’s grace my wife and I have somehow made it to our 9^th anniversary. That’s not particularly remarkable. Lots of couples make it that far. Perhaps what is amazing isn’t so much that we’ve made it through 9 years of marriage but rather that we ever got married in the first place. I’m still not sure why she said yes.

At one of my wife’s bridal showers my very own mother told the group: “We’re just glad that Aaron found SOMEONE.” That sentiment was repeated by my brother at the groom’s dinner. Apparently there was familial concern that I was destined for bachelorhood. I’ve never followed up with them to see what the concern was. 

Anyway, nine years is worth celebrating because my wife is worth celebrating.  All of my best moments have come with her at my side. Chief among those moments was the time last summer when I started a slow clap at the Twins stadium that eventually spread through the whole stadium.  It was awesome. Close behind are the births of my children and my wedding day, but lots of people get married and have kids while few people start slow claps for crowds of 40,000 people.

Some other highlights of the past nine years include:

• Getting violently ill on our honeymoon. Who would have thought that serious illness was possible on a backpacking trip through a third world country? Not sure what I was thinking on that one.
•  Staying at a hotel/drug house in Guatemala where needles were left in the open on tables in the shared balconies. We moved the extra bed in front of the locks-from-the-outside-with-a-padlock door.
• Doing a 360 on an icy freeway alongside a semi-truck then jumping a median on her birthday just after we found out that we were expecting our first daughter.
• Me needing to be rescued from a closet because I played hide-and-seek with my daughters the day I ran a marathon but my legs gave out leaving my unable to get myself out.
• Our weights growing ever closer while Erica was pregnant with Miriam. It got close there at the end!
• A New Years Day at the cabin that began by stepping out of bed into two inches of water. Sorry about the burst pipe, Dad!
• The time I sprained my ankle, ignored my nurse/wife’s advice and then passed out because of the pain.
• Being chased by an elk in Estes Park with our infant daughter strapped to my chest in the baby bjorn. No lie, it pulled up about 5 yards short of trampling us.     

      If I kept the list going most of the anecdotes would be re-iterations of me ignoring advice from Erica and then some sort of mishap or calamity visiting us. The amazing thing about our 9 years is primarily that I am still alive and that I haven’t driven my beautiful bride to insanity. Seriously she is patient, kind, loving, caring, intelligent, and a gift from God to all who know her. She is the kind of mother that others want to learn from, the kind of friend that people want to keep for life, and the kind of person that makes others better. None of those is true of me (especially the mother part) and I am so grateful that she is mine and I am hers. Some long lost charm of mine must have been at play when she said yes all those years ago. 

      

      As a gift to the internet I leave you with the invitation to our groom's dinner 9 years ago:

   

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