My Single New Year’s Resolution

Image via http://mindmappingsoftwareblog.com/

Dear Jack,

I’m big on goal setting, on personal improvement, on creating plans.  I’ve been setting annual goals for as long as I can remember.  I certainly don’t always achieve them all … ha, no – not by any stretch.  (Depending on how you measure the completion percentages, I achieved approximately 56% of my goals in 2012.)  But even in the non-achievement of those goals, I feel I’ve bettered myself by the grace of God.

I’m not I wasn’t so big on Resolutions.

People talk annually about their New Year’s Goals and Resolutions.  I’ve always over-weighted goals, and under-weighted Resolutions because I couldn’t really measure them.  This year I decided to keep my Goal list – about 14 SMART goals – but to add one single Resolution.  It’s a phrase I’ve been familiar with for a number of years, but, for a host of reasons, especially resonated with me during December of last year:

Focus on the Signal, Filter out the Noise.

I wrote it down, not quite sure what to do with it, but decided to make it my Resolution for 2013 and see what happened.

We are bombarded with messages every day – Twitter, Facebook, email, TV, Radio, friends, family, kids, billboards, co-workers, bosses, clients, news channels.  It’s overwhelming.  And it’s not that all these messages are bad – some of them are good.  But they’re too much, at least for me.  I lose track of the Signal when my senses are overwhelmed by the Noise.

So I started doing things, slowly and intentionally, to Filter out the Noise in order to better Focus on the Signal.  Here’s a partial list so far:

1. Cut those I follow on Twitter by 10% (amazing how many messages are sent out per minute)
2. Stopped replying to personal email during the work day that took more than 1 or 2 mins to address (amazing how distracted I can get by talking about the Steelers or church doctrine)
3. Stopped checking Facebook unless I was expecting a message or reply (amazing how long you can surf the News Feed and not realize how long it’s been)
4. Keep the radio and music off on my commute to work (amazing how distracting news updates or personal opinions cloud my thoughts)
5. Stopped entertaining job opportunities (amazing how happy I am at work until someone brags about the green grass on their side)
6. Unsubscribed from countless email newsletters from companies or organizations that I just don’t care much about (amazing how many newsletters I’ve foolishly signed up for)

Like I said, none of these in and of themselves are bad.  But each was keeping me from Focusing on a particular Signal that I knew I needed to be Focusing on.

I can’t say I’ve taken many steps at this point to intentionally Focus on the signal, mainly because I’m surprised how much easier it’s been to do so since I started Filtering out the Noise.  For the most part, I know what I need to do each day, each month, each year to follow the Signal.  It’s more of a battle to actually do it.

I’m not sure what Signals needed Focused on and what Noises need Filtered out in your life, Jack.  But I’m sure there are some.  I’m also sure that no matter how much Noise I filter out this year, there will be plenty more in the coming years.  And one more surety: I’m sure that God uses these Signals as direction beacons in our lives, so once we know what’s a Signal, we need to be deliberate in paying attention to it.

Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

Observing Lent for the First Time

Dear Jack,

For most of my life, and all of my self-thinking life, I’ve been part of churches that would be, for the most part, considered non-liturgical.  I don’t think this is necessarily a good or a bad thing, just a fact.  I use the description ”non-liturgical” in a sense broader than a structured Sunday service – and maybe “non-traditional” is a better phrase, but then I start flirting with the whole emergent concept.

The point I’m getting at is, maybe because of this above church setting, I’ve never paid much attention to Lent.  But this season, due to a host of seemingly unrelated occurrences,  I started hearing and reading more about it.  It’s overwhelming to start studying the deep richness of Lent’s history, so I’m relying heavily on a document produced by The Village Church in my inaugural Lent season.

The best summary I can offer is pulled from The Village Church’s 2012 “Seasons” guide having to do with Lent.

Originally a preparation period for those desiring to be baptized, Lent eventually became embedded into Christian tradition as a season for the Church to symbolically follow Christ into the wilderness.  It is a time of fasting and self-denial, though not for denial itself.  It is a period to empty ourselves of lesser things so that we might be filled with the greater things of the gospel.  Whereas Advent is a season of ever-increasing light awaiting the incarnation of Christ, Lent is a season of ever-decreasing light approaching the cross.

I love that concept of emptying ourselves of lesser things so that we can be filled with the greater things of the gospel.  I simply have too much noise in my life, and it’s often very difficult to decipher which is noise and which is signal.  In fact, that’s my one resolution this year: Filter out the noise, Focus on the signal.  When I decided upon that resolution in December of 2012, I didn’t realize it would be incorporated into a season of Lent.

My adolescent understanding of Lent was simply giving up something you enjoy for a month or so.  Now I see it’s not just that – it’s much deeper.  And, depending on which tradition you follow, each of the six weeks you fast for 6 days and feast on Sunday.  There’s an attractive rhythm to this – and it celebrates Sabbath, something else I’ve been trying to figure out how to do better.  For my fasting, I’m going to modify The Village Church’s 2012 Seasons suggested fasts:

 

• Week 1: Food (no eating until noon)
• Week 2: Television and Movies (complete fast)
• Week 3: Social Networking (complete fast)
• Week 4: Caffeine (complete fast)
• Week 5: Radio (complete fast)
• Week 6: Sleep (one hour less each night)

 

I’m actually excited about some of these – the Television/Movie and Social Networking – and I know others will be less than exciting - notably Caffeine and Sleep.  But I’m excited to see what God has in store.  My prayer throughout the 40 days is for a larger and clearer picture of God in my everyday life.  This morning I was reading in Luke 4 about how Jesus was filled with the Spirit, and led by the Spirit, during his time in the Wilderness being tempted by Satan.  I never realized that before – the Spirit was with him the whole time.  Each day.  Each temptation.  Each successful denial.

I’m hoping Lent will become a family tradition in which we all can learn and grow together through a tradition the Church has learned and grown from for centuries, and which I’m now just discovering.

Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

How “The Circle Maker” Changed my Prayer Life

Dear Jack,

About a month ago I finished up reading one of the more life-changing books I’ve read to date - The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson.  Within the span of a few weeks, numerous friends were recommending it to me, and I saw people I know who read the book and were so moved they did some pretty radical stuff (leaving jobs, purchasing buildings, starting new adventures).  I had somewhat mapped out my reading plan of books till the end of the year, but decided to alter the plan to pick up and see what was so great.

And man, am I ever glad I did.  Few books have impacted me in a way that this one did.  No book has altered my prayer life in the way this did.  I’ve struggled to describe to friends and family just how profound an effect this has had on me, so bear with me as I strive to condense a complete prayer paradigm shift into three poignant examples.

Before I hop into these, I want to overly simplify the book by using Mark Batterson’s own words: Bold prayers honor God, and God honors bold prayers.  Basically, if we pray a request to God that we think we can answer ourselves or may happen in due course without God’s intervention, we’re dishonoring Him because we’re not asking Him to work in miraculous ways.  It seems somewhat strange that impotent humans pray to an omnipotent God asking for needs that He already knows about – yet that is exactly what He invokes us to do.

And so – the three ways that The Circle Maker has changed my prayer life:

1. I’ve stopped parenthetically adding “…if it’s your will.”  If God has laid something on my heart, I’m praying hard and boldly for it.   He may not answer my prayer in the way that I’m asking for it to be answered, and I need to recognize my ways are not His ways, but I’ve always felt that I’m emasculating my prayers when I ask for something bold to happen, and then add “if it’s your will.”  Understanding God’s will and our free will is baffling, I’ll readily admit, but God certainly calls us to be involved in His happenings.  The only time I can think of in the Bible that this type of prayer hedging is used is when Jesus, right before He is crucified, prays to the Father “Not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22.42).  From what I can recall, most other biblical prayers skip this phrase I’ve grown all too comfortable using.

2. I pray for measurable, result-oriented results.  There are five measurable requests that I’m currently circling in prayer, and each of them has a definitive request that will tell me whether or not God answered.  One is for a couple friend going through some rough times to grow closer and then initiate a specific conversation with me that they know nothing about.  Another is for a specific medical result for a friend 12 months away.  And as of now, I’m perfectly content pushing the repeat button on these prayers until God answers them.

3. I realize there is a Genesis and a Revelation of each prayer.  This was one of the more substantial points that hit me while reading.  God puts into motion answers to our requests at varying times.  Sometimes the “Revelation” of a prayer happens momentarily after the “Genesis” of the prayer leaves our lips.  Sometimes the gap is a few years.  Sometimes it’s a few generations.  And sometimes, as in the case with Israel and Jesus, it’s a few thousand years.  But, Batterson argues, there is a definitive beginning and end to each prayer, even if we never know the time difference between the two.  He cites the example of his grand-father praying for his grandchildren, and those prayers being answered years after the grand-father passed away.  God isn’t time-bound in chronos like we are – His time is kairos, a time dimension I don’t even really understand.

I feel there is so much more I could – or should – say about the book’s impact on my life, but I’m struggling to identify the specifics.  It’s almost as if I don’t remember my philosophy on prayer before reading it … which may be a sign it was pretty weak.

The reason I write these letters, Jack, is to pass on wisdom to you – things that I’m learning that I want you to learn.  I want you to learn about my growth through this book.  I want you to read this book.  And maybe I’ll wrap up this letter with one last specific example of how it’s changed me: I pray every night for my children’s faith to be stronger than mine and for their works to be greater than mine.  Reading this book may just help you see the Revelation of that prayer.  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

What Are You Willing to Give in Order to Get?

Dear Jack,

In a similar line of thought from which I wrote previously on sowing and reaping – I have been dwelling on the idea of goals and achievement with balance in life.  I’m a subscriber to the theory of positive thinking, not in The Secret kind of way of magically manifesting thoughts into reality, but in truly believing that through hard work, God’s grace, and good stewardship of our talents, we can achieve a lot of what we put our mind and strength to.

However, I think we have to realize that in order to get something, we’re probably going to have to give something.  (Again, don’t confuse this with another theory of the Prosperity Gospel of giving to God so he’ll materially bless us).  Rather, look at your own life and think of what goals you’d like to achieve, and ask yourself what you’ll have to sacrifice to get there.  Here’s some personal examples.

I’d like to earn a six figure income on a regular basis.  I know what this will cost me – hard work, dedication to service, ongoing learning, courage in stretching beyond my comfort zone in prospecting.  And I reasonably know what I’m not willing to give to achieve the goal: diminished quality time with family, being dishonest, and operating on anything less than full integrity.  I’ve weighed out that I’m (mostly) ok with giving the previous list – but I’m certainly not ok with giving the latter.  I could probably short cut my way to hitting my earnings goal by working 70 hours a week and selling people stuff they don’t need – but I don’t want to do that.  I’ve defined success to be respected the most by people who know me the best.  I’m sticking to that.

That’s a positive example, one I feel I’m doing ok at.

A negative example: running a marathon.  This is something I think I’d like to do, although  sometimes I convince myself that I don’t want to when I realize what I will have to give.  Running a marathon requires a lot: time, dedication, pain, and probably less sleep to do my running in the mornings.  I’m not willing to give these things in order to get my goal of completing a marathon at this point in my life – and that’s a fact that I recognize.  I wish I could have the dedication to carve the 10+ hours a week to run, the discipline to plow through the mental and physical pain barriers, and the acceptance of less sleep – but I simply don’t.  I’m not going to get this goal without giving those things, and I realize that.  I sincerely hope some day I’ll write a letter on how I have achieved this, but right now I can’t.

My challenge to you is simple: ask yourself what you’re willing to give in order to get what you want.  Once you weigh the pros and cons (or once you count the cost before building the tower, to use biblical language), you’ll know whether or not your current goal is worth pursuing.  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

Successfully Defining Success

Dear Jack,

This is a bit of a recycle’d thought, as I wrote this recently for the Lancaster Chamber of Commerce – but I felt it worth sharing with you.  A lot of people talk regularly about success and achieving it, but I think there’s a real danger in not first defining what that success should look like.  I titled the piece “Successfully Defining Success.”

Successfully Defining Success

As young professionals, we’re all striving for success in one way or another – and realistically, probably striving for success in multiple ways.  Too often, I’ve found, my friends and I move quickly in conversation about how we’re going to achieve our success without first defining what success really is.  And this is a dangerous oversight.  We could spend precious years (maybe even a lifetime) and countless dollars pursuing something that eventually we may realize we didn’t want.  Or, maybe worse, achieving what we wanted but doing so in a way that has left us and those around us broken.

Many of us have read books on how to be successful, but I can’t easily recall reading a definition of success – the end goal of our self-improvement endeavors – that really stuck with me.  I find this fascinating.  The majority of the definitions have some vague mention of goal achievement or monetary reward – with the exception of one (so far that I’ve come across).  This came from Andy Stanley, and he defined success as “Being respected the most by those who know me the best.”

That hits home for me.  If I’m honest with myself, I can fake elements of success with relative ease to those who may not know me all that well – but I can’t fake success to my wife, my kid(s), my close friends, my mentors.  They are the ones who know the true me, and its their opinions which I’m going to concern myself with the most.

I can set goals to earn X amount of dollars, to attain partnership status, to sit on certain boards, to live in a specific house, to drive a certain car – and in themselves, they aren’t bad goals.  But how I define success is the way I go about achieving them.  And its in that pursuit that only those closest to me will be able to truly see my heart and be able to respect, or not respect, me and my accomplishments.

So my question to you is simple: how do you define success?

I love the concrete definition of success – being respected the most by those who know me the best.  I can still set out to achieve whatever I feel God is calling me towards, but those achievements won’t be how I measure my success.  If I’m lazy, I’ll be know as lazy.  If I’m recklessly driven, I’ll be known as reckless.  I want my family, my mentors, and my closest friends to know my heart and to be able to tell the difference.

(That’s what Jesus is after, after all.  He doesn’t care as much about our outward actions as He does about our inward motives.)

So I thought you should know, Jack – that I will be measuring success by how you respect me for achieving, or not achieving, life’s ambitions.  Even if you don’t arrive at the same definition I have for success, I’d encourage you to define and refine your own definition so that you know what the end goal looks like.  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

Welcome to the World, Von Steele Walter

Dear Jack,

On Sunday, May 13th, 2012 our family welcomed into the world Von Steele Walter.  He was a bit earlier than expected, but still weighed in at a healthy 7 pounds, 12 ounces and measured 21 inches long.  Our growing family continues.

The past few days have been a whirlwind, and I’m sure the pace will only pick up.  I wanted to write to you to let you know why we chose Von Steele as our first son’s name, because I feel the name you pick for your child is a huge decision and it wasn’t just a name that we thought sounded fun.

Von is usually used as a preposition in a full name and means “of” or “from,” typically to describe a geographic location or family lineage.  I, for example, could be Jeremy von Lancaster.  We liked the sound of “Vaughn” but the name means “little” or “small.”  We pronounce Von the same way “John” sounds – or, for Lancaster residents, like Bon-Ton.

Steele is a Walter family name tracing up my late Grandmother’s family line.  George Steele Wheatley was my great-grandfather, and he received his middle name as respect to my great-great-great grandfather, Joseph Steele, who lived in Vermont.  Lydia’s family is from Johnstown, a notable city for its steel manufacturing back in the day, and many of her family members worked in the steel mills.

So – Von Steele.  Of (or from) Steel(e).  Double play on words encompassing both sides of our family.

Von also can be translated as “Hope” in Old Norse, which compliments Adrianna’s middle name of Faith.

[Full disclosure: we're also Pittsburgh sports fans, so having a middle name paying homage to the Steelers didn't exactly work against the choice of his name.]

It’s admittedly a little strange to see him at 3 days old – so vulnerable, so dependent, so delicate – with such a strong-sounding name.  We love him, and we love the name.

I was a little worried our second child wouldn’t carry as much excitement and joy as Adrianna did when she arrived – but I was completely wrong.  Our hearts aren’t split in love for Adrianna and Von – our hearts have simply expanded their capacity (even on minimal sleep).

So, Jack – join me in welcoming Von to the world.  It’s another exciting stage in life, and one that I want to cherish and hold on to as long as I can.

Till next time, Jack,

Sincerely,
J.

[Forgiveness] + [Repentance] = Reconciliation

Dear Jack,

As aspect of faith – and of human relationships – that I’ve often struggled with is that of forgiveness.  I never really seemed to have a grasp on a number of its implications: how Jesus has forgiven us our yet confessed sins, why we still have to ask for forgiveness for something we’ve supposedly already been forgiven for, how we can forgive someone without them saying sorry, and how we can say sorry and still have someone not forgive us.  It never really solidified in my head and heart what this really meant.

Until I read this idea that the goal of forgiveness isn’t forgiveness, it’s reconciliation.  This makes more sense.  People hurt each other, sometimes intentionally, other times unintentionally – and we don’t just need forgiveness, we need reconciliation for the relationship to become whole again.  The same with our relationship with Jesus.

When you change the end goal from forgiveness to reconciliation, you then realize the often overlooked aspect of repentance (or saying I’m sorry, but really meaning it).  It was then that I realized that the two components which lead to reconciliation – the end goal – can exist independently of each other … but that for reconciliation to occur, they both both must coincide.

[Forgiveness]
Forgiving someone is the act of accepting a wrong done to you and not holding onto the injustice.  You can forgive someone for hurting you – in fact that’s what we’re encouraged to do.  It’s the only way to really free yourself from a hurtful position.  It’s what you do when your spouse insults you in front of your family.  It’s what you do when a drunk driver takes away your ability to walk.  It’s what the Amish community did when a mad man shot 10 girls, killing 5 of them.  It’s what Jesus did when he died on the cross for our sins.  The act of forgiving is unconditional on the act of repenting.

[Repentance]
On the other side of forgiving is repenting - acknowledging a wrong you did and making an intentional effort to correct it, or at least not do it again.  It’s more than saying “I’m sorry,” although those words are probably part of it.  Repentance is admitting you insulted your spouse, belittling her in front of your family.  It’s the drunk driver saying he was wrong, confessing his guilt, and being truthful with his wrongdoing.  Repentance is caring for the Amish girl victims as the mother of the shooter, since the son is no longer around to repent himself.  It’s what we do when we realize our sins and how we’ve fallen short of the perfection demanded of us.  The act of repenting is also unconditional on the act of forgiving.

Reconciliation
And when these two combine, then – and only then – can reconciliation take place.  We’re free to choose which end of the wrongdoing we will respond to – forgiving or repenting.  And we can’t force the other party to repent or to forgive.  But when both parties do, relationships are restored.  Shalom is present.

I find it somewhat ironic that the two components both have the same major obstacle to overcome: pride.  Not forgiving is holding onto the notion that we didn’t deserve to be hurt.  Not repenting is holding onto the notion that we didn’t do anything wrong – or worse, that the wrong we did was deserved.  Pride is such an ugly thing.  And it so easily camouflages itself into our lives.  I don’t think it’s too extreme to say that pride is the single most damaging character flaw in all relationships.  I wish I had better suggestions on how to pragmatically search our lives for pride, but I don’t.  We simply must ask God to search our hearts like David did.  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

Sow. Reap. Repeat

Dear Jack,

As I said in a previous letter, the concept of Sowing and Reaping is a prevalent theme in the Bible, woven throughout the Old and New Testaments.  I’m the first to admit that I’m not sure how this biblical mandate coexists with the sovereignty of God – and I’m not going to really give much attention to that tension for the moment, as I’m confident both are truths, and I may just not understand it.  Rather, I’m going to talk about how Sowing and Reaping plays out in my life right now, and how I’d like you to infuse the principle into your own life.

The concept of Sowing and Reaping is an agricultural analogy.  A farmer will sow the seeds of a plant in the ground during the spring, and then reap (or harvest) the grown plants from the ground in the fall.  In our lives, we may not be sowing wheat seeds into our backyard, but we will be planting other types of seeds – three of which I’ll allude to.  This type of life philosophy/theology falls somewhere between the popular “God only helps those who help themselves” camp and the “Let go and let God” camp.  Ultimately, God can choose to send a pestilence and wipe the entire crop out, or he can cause manna to fall from the sky.  But most of the time he wants us to work the fields of life diligently no matter what the outcome.

Sowing as a financial planner
This can be applied to the masses in many regards and in many various employed positions, but specifically for me I’m talking about sowing seeds in regard to my business development role at Bare Financial.  This means, in the simplest phrase, talking to people who aren’t our clients to see if they’re interested in becoming clients.  I sow seeds – meet new people, ask to meet new people, follow up with new people.  I don’t need to stand over the newly sowed seed and check to see if it’s sprouting every day – I just need to sow the seed, check back periodically, and hopefully at some point reap the benefits of doing so.  It’s that simple.  God can choose to grow the seed out of the ground and into a plentiful crop if he so chooses – but I need to first plant the seed.

Sowing as a husband
It’s so easy not to be sowing continually in marriage – once the vows and the rings are exchanged, the crop is ready for steady and infinite harvest, right?  Not so much.  My role is to continually pursue Lydia, and I admit I’m not always great at this.  I need to sow the seeds of my love, appreciation, respect, and affection constantly.  This sowing season comes more than once a year – it’s a year round duty.  But just as the sowing season is unrelenting, so is the reaping season.  There’s a direct correlation between the love that I show and the respect that I get, so much so that there’s a book about it.  As husbands, we’re commanded to lead our family, specifically our wives, and when we do so, good things happen.

There’s another element of sowing and reaping as a husband that has a much more obvious and physical result – and we have a beautiful baby girl and soon will have a beautiful baby boy to prove it.  But I’ll leave that talk for another time.

Sowing as a father
I’m currently reading an excellent, albeit frightening, book that describes how a father is the most influential relationship a daughter will ever have in her life.  It’s written by a doctor with decades of research to prove her points, but even I could attest in my 2.5 years of experience the correlation between how much time I intentionally invest into Adrianna and her overall development as a child.  I need to sow seeds of courage, discipline, and unconditional, sacrificial love to her.  And this sowing usually takes place after a long day laboring in the aforementioned financial planner field – so I’m tired.  But this field is more important, and requires more work and more intentional sowing on my part.  Yet the reaping is breath-taking – having a daughter randomly say she loves you and talk about how she wants to marry you when she gets older is one of the most rewarding moments I can think of.  The excitement of her running to me when I walk in the front door at home brings a smile to my face as I write this.

I suppose I could go on about other aspects of sowing and reaping (working out, eating right, evangelizing, etc.) but I want you to think through those and others yourself.  There’s a time for everything, so Solomon said – including sowing and reaping.  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

The Case For Speed Reading the Bible in a Year

Dear Jack,

One of my 2011 goals was to read through the Bible in a year.  This is something I’ve never done before – and was actually something I never gave much credit to.  After all, how much comprehension can you really retain reading so much in such a little time?  Most Bible reading plans are anywhere between 3-10 years.  This line of thought was even confirmed by a few friends early in 2011 when I shared my reading goal with them.  However, after completing the goal, I have a great appreciation for it – and strongly urge you to consider doing it sometime as well.

I didn’t follow a scripted reading plan, didn’t read from Genesis to Revelation, didn’t read in any chronological order – my friend Brandon printed a list of the books of the Bible, and I (for the most part) would read one book, strike it out on the print out page, and randomly choose to read another.  The exception was reading Genesis through Joshua and also reading the four Gospels back to back to back to back.  I would read for comprehension, but if I came across a passage that tricked me up, I’d simply write a “?” in the margin and move on instead of spending time researching it.  I read from an ESV Compact Thinline Bible with no commentary and few cross references.

I finished up Habakkuk (as it happened to be) on December 30th, and began dwelling on what I learned.  So here are a few lessons, principles, or themes that I picked up in my 12 month blitz.

A command to be courageous.  Over and over and over again throughout the Old Testament was the command and plea for leaders to be strong and courageous.  I didn’t take the time to count the number of commands, but it blew my mind how dominant that theme is.

Revelation can be summed up in two words.  The book of Revelation confuses me greatly – I have a Bible degree and still really don’t know how to read it.  It actually frightens me, and I avoid reading it at all cost if I’m honest.  I’m skeptical each time a sermon refers to a Revelation passage.  However, I noticed two words churn to the surface as I read it straight through: Jesus (or a term referring to him) and victorious.  Again, I didn’t do a word count to see if these are indeed the most common two words, but I’d be surprised if they’re not.  Jesus.  Victorious.  If I understand nothing else of Revelation, I’m good with understanding that.

God’s sovereignty.  Our free will and God’s sovereignty have always been a relationship I’ve felt less than comfortable articulating.  I just don’t know how it works most times.  But when reading throughout the Bible, and taking it at face value truth,  it’s almost inarguable that God is indeed all powerful and all capable.  He did pretty much anything we could dream of in asking for signs of His might.  From creation to nations to conceptions to destructions to resurrections, God demonstrated his power in all realms.

The Spirit was moving in Old Testament characters.  Could have been sheer ignorance on my part, but other than the case with Saul, I never took notice how often the OT mentions the Spirit of God moving in someone’s heart or dwelling upon them … and sometimes leaving them.  What an amazing gift that we all have this Spirit in our own hearts now, instead of a select handful of individuals over the span of thousands of years.

Reaping and sowing is a fundamental truth.  This agricultural concept is used frequently in Christian teaching, but I never realized how saturated the Word of God is with its usage.  It leads to some admitted confusion stemming from my lack of understanding in free will/God’s sovereignty, but I can’t get away from the truth that we will truly reap what we sow (yet also that God is sovereign).

My PBU undergrad is of help.  I’ve often discredited my Bible degree since I have so many questions about the Bible and Christianity as a whole – but I realized in reading the Bible that a lot of knowledge has penetrated my subconscious mind that I didn’t realize was there.  From trivial things (such as the city Jerusalem being synonymous to the kingdom of Judah, as was Samaria synonymous to Israel) to bigger things (the concept of the Trinity), my reading was greatly helped by a somewhat firm understanding of context.

The Bible is complex, not simple.  I’ve always known this – but it was definitely drilled down last year.  There are certain parts of the Bible that I really can’t explain – and if a skeptic were to press me on it, I certainly couldn’t defend them (these were marked by a lot of the ?’s mentioned above in my margins).  It’s not that all of these passage are not understandable, it’s just that I’m going to have to rely on good teachers to learn from.  It’s actually more mesmerizing to read something, not comprehend it, do some historical research, learn more about the context, and then see how delicately structured in truth the passage truly is.  There’s also great freedom in admitting to ourselves and others “I don’t know.”  Faith is built on top of that.

That’s my case, Jack.  Sure, I didn’t learn a whole ton about specific passages or certain ideas, but I believe I improved my overall faith through this goal.  I’d strongly urge you to consider your own 12 month blitz of the Bible – as I’m sure you’ll glean (or reap) lessons, principles, or themes of your own.  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.

The Busyness Martyr

Dear Jack,

Something I’ve noticed in our culture is our hidden obsessiveness with being busy.  We take pride in hectic schedules that drain us of margin, joy, and fulfillment.  Whether it’s work, church, kids, community involvement, board meetings, or family gatherings, we all seem to have a lot going on.

How many times do you hear someone ask a friend “How are you doing?”

“Good – really busy with work right now.  I’m usually not home till 7 or 8 each night.  Can’t complain!”

“Great – little Jimmy’s on two traveling soccer teams, Suzy’s taking clarinet and ballet lessons, and the hubby decided to go back to school to get another degree while working!”

“Oh man, busy – but good.  So many church projects going on right now I can barely keep them straight, but God doesn’t smile on the lazy ant!”

True, God probably doesn’t smile at laziness, but I don’t think he takes great pride when we suffocate in our calendars either.

It almost seems shameful if we answer the question with

“I’m doing well – keeping my hours at work under control so I have more free time.”

or

“Great – I decided to keep little Jimmy out of sports this season so we’re not doing as much running around.”

And let me say this – I’m guilty.  Ask anyone who knows me in this season of life – I’ve got a lot going on.

Wait.

Did you catch that?  Did you catch that slim glimmer of pride woven in the words of mine you just read?  It’s because I have the disease – I somehow want to be a martyr sacrificing myself on the alter of busyness, even though a voice inside me is urging me to free myself, to jump down off the alter that I’ve tied my own heart to.

I have an inclination that the disease was born out of a reaction against the laziness that also prevails in our culture – I’d rather be too busy than too lazy.  But that’s the deadly trap – the area between the two is murky, and I’m relatively sure I haven’t found the path that walks steadily between the reclining sloth and the passed-out carpenter bee.

Sure, I suffer a bit from this.  But you know who really suffers, Jack?  You.  And Lydia.  Those closest to me are those that suffer the most when I allow too much stuff to fill my calendar.  The same goes for everyone – those who are closest to you will suffer at a proportional level to your busyness.  They seem to get our leftovers, our margin.

This Christmas and New Year’s time is a good opportunity to audit ourselves – which is as easy as looking at our calendars, or just honestly examining our stress levels.  Both of mine are at uneasy marks right now.

I’m not offering any suggestions to cure the busyness disease at this point, but I am making an attempt to increase awareness of it.  Too many of us are killing ourselves between our jobs, our roles at church, our roles in the community, and our roles as family members.  We need to learn to say no to more things.  But more importantly, we need to learn to be okay with not being overly busy – and not expecting those around us to be overly busy as well.

I want to be able to answer that question sometime with “I’m great – I’m at home way more than I have ever been in my life.”  It sounds so …  un-American, so un-Lancaster County, so un-Protestant work ethic.  But is that really such a bad thing?  Till next time, Jack.

Sincerely,
J.