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i didnt realize it until just a few days ago, but on february 15 my blog turned 8 (happy birthday blog!). 8 years. wow.
when i started out on this journey, one of the first things i said was that i wanted it to be real. i didnt want to pull punches or hide behind shoddily constructed white-washed walls. i’ll admit that since that time, some posts havent been the most positive. even recently i know you’ve seen me struggle. hopefully, the struggle means ive been confronting things in my life. things i’ve dealt with for years but i’ve never actually overcome.
and honestly, as i move forward, and as i face these demons once and for all, i cannot promise that future postings will be happy and full of cheer. life isnt like that. life isnt full of fluff and cotton candy. life is hard. it was meant to be. and the more i live it, the more i realize that there are things, people, worth fighting for. that there are dreams i desperately want to see come to pass. that there are people i care deeply about. people i will fight for. people i’ll put it all on the line, come hell or high-water, is that all you’ve got, fight for.
the more i live this life, the more i realize that it’s through the hardships that we come to understand true worth, that we come to realize how deep real beauty lies. that its in fighting through the crashing waves that we realize how important our next breath is. and its when we’ve seen how much depravity exists, that our eyes understand how much grace we’ve been shown.
it’s only in the darkest of our days that the we understand how important light is.
i think the most important thing i’ve learned thus far, on this journey, is that we shouldnt run from our hardships. because it’s in the midst of whatever it is we’re walking through, that we so often find what we never knew we needed.
my mp3 player is always on random. and with 30 gigs of music to chose from, it really is random. most times, i dont really focus on what’s playing as it’s really just something to help me focus at work. earlier this morning, this song came on. and although i purchased the album some time ago, this was the first time ive actually listened this song. since then, it’s been on repeat. why? because i needed to hear it.
and if you’re at all like me, then you need to hear it too.
i cannot promise that life will be easy when you wake up tomorrow. but if you stick with it, and deal with what you need to deal with, it will be beautiful. it will.
Fee – Arms That Hold The Universe
i know it seems like this could be
the darkest day you’ve known
but believe you me, the God of strength
will never let you go
He will overcome, i know
and the arms that hold the universe
are holding you tonight
you can rest inside
it’s gonna be alright
and the voice that calmed the raging sea
is calling you His child
so be still and know He’s in control
He will never let you go
through many dangers, toils and snares
you have already come
but His grace has brought you safe this far
and His grace will lead you home
and the arms that hold the universe
are holding you tonight
you can rest inside
it’s gonna be alright
and the voice that calmed the raging sea
is calling you His child
so be still and know He’s in control
He will never let you go
you can hope, you can rise|
you can stand
He’s still got the whole world
in his Hands
i was challenged earlier today. challenged to find my _____ (whatever your need is) in the words of the Author of this story first. before i turn to friends, family, church leadership, or close associates. i was challenged today to find my solace, my comfort, who i am in the great I am. to turn to His words first, and trust Him, before anything else.
the funny thing is that i know so many of these words already. i know them by heart and can either recite them word for word, or give you a good idea of what’s being said. the funny thing is that i’ve said these words, prayed these words, believed and spoken these words over those i am close to. for friends, family and people i am passionate about.
i know these words as undeniable truth for my friends, for my family. words that say that by His stripes, you are healed and that this Author is the father to the fatherless. words that promise what our heart yearns for.
i know these words. and because of the love i have for my friends and family, believing these words for them is easy. i know the Authors heart because it is evident in the stories He wrote and in the stories He is writing. i know His heart breaks when the heart of someone i care about breaks. i know He feels it when his daughter, my friend, goes through a rough break-up. i know He aches when one of his children is shunned. i know how much He cares for them. i may not fully understand or grasp how much He cares, but i dont doubt it.
but i doubt those words when it comes to me. i doubt His love. His dreams. i doubt that He actually has a plan for me.
there are times when having the father i had growing up doesnt bother me. and there are times when it seems to be an insurmountable mountain in my way.
part of me knows deep inside, that there are things a boy is supposed to learn from his father. things that only a father can teach. the way in which a father is supposed to help boy discover who he is as a man. guide him through the difficult transition and into a better understanding of manhood. fathers were meant to initiate boys into men. they were supposed to show the boy that he has what it takes.
do i have what it takes?
maybe you’ve never asked yourself that question. maybe you’ve never had it haunt your thoughts and dreams. or maybe you’re like me and you understand this question intimately. maybe youre too familiar with asking yourself that as often as i do.
that, is my greatest fear. i dont know if i have what it takes. do i have what it takes to be a man? to call the girl? do i have what it takes to woo her and pursue her and show her how much she is truly worth? do i have what it takes to be the man i’m supposed to be?
that, is my greatest fear. not failing, my greatest fear isnt failing. but not having what it takes…. of not being a man.
if the challenge i was given this morning meant anything to me, if im to gain anything by the words that were so powerfully delivered, if i am to apply it to my life right now, then i need to find my ____ in the Author of this story. in His words, and in His truth. i need to find who i am, in His story and not the one i try to write.
i need to find me, in Him. i need to find that i have what it takes in the Father to the Fatherless.
there are moments in life when our words, as heartfelt and meaningful as we want them to be, hold very little of the importance we believe they do.
i think, in a way, thats why we like stories so much. we ask people how their weekend was, or where they’re going on vacation. and when they respond with “you’ll never believe what happened….”, we’re all ears. we buy books and watch movies. we play video games and disappear into virtual reality. no matter the medium, they all tell us stories.
it’s almost as if without understanding exactly why, we know that stories carry more meaning than the words used to convey them. it’s one thing to know that someone’s heart is aching, and something completely different to hear the story of her abuse, or his sisters drug problem. someone can tell us they are in love, but those mere words seem almost empty when you hear the incredible story of how they met, or how he proposed.
we gravitate towards stories because we intrinsically understand that life, in its most beautiful, is made up of stories.
the sad part, is that for many of us, the most amazing stories we will ever experience, are those we read or hear. we constrain ourselves with our books, movies and video games. the stories our coworkers share about their weekend or their upcoming vacation to paris excite and entice, but we never take that step and decide to live our own stories. we surround ourselves with what we chose to believe is important, our jobs, the bills we need to pay and that tv show we’ve just got to watch…. and we never step beyond it.
maybe we’re afraid of the stories we’ll be part of, or the part we will get to write. maybe we’ve seen to many stories end badly, to many ships sinking in the waves of the storm. maybe we’re the ones with the stories of heartache. of abuse and abandonment and pain. maybe we’re the ones who’ve given up, and decided that if thats what living is like, we dont want to anymore.
i know that in so many ways, that reflects who i am.
but then there are moments. moments when the Author of this story gives us a glimpse. a glimpse into something that raises our eyes above the immediate that surrounds us. a glimpse of the sun through the storm clouds. a snapshot of endless beauty that brings life to the shades of gray that surround us.
and in that moment, we are lifted from your surroundings, from the chapter we’re mired in. and we realize that this chapter is but a few pages in the book of our life. you realize how much bigger this book can be. and hopefully, we realize again, that we can trust the Author of this story. we realize in that moment that it’s only because of the binding of grace, that our story is still being told, that our book hasnt fallen apart. and that even through the darkest times we’ve ever known, there is a happy ending out there.
think about it, the stories we love the most are those of the hero overcoming, of finding that someone and falling in love, of the underdog – victorious, of the downtrodden defended. the stories we love the most are those of facing our giants, and seeing them fall.
those are the stories i want to tell people. at the water cooler, while passing in the hallway or sunday after church. i want stories of danger and risk, and love and endless beauty. stories that carry with them the weight of a life being lived. stories, stories i’ve lived. stories i am living.
stories, held together, bound by grace.
there are days that come and go and within what seems like moments, their memory has faded to almost nothingness. days that subsisted almost solely of vapor. days that we fill with what we believe to be the most important things in our lives. work, bills, taxes, car repairs and copious amounts of coffee.
days that blend together until you cannot tell one from the next. days, like any other day.
and then there are days that cause us to pause. that give the gift of forcing us to stop. days that throw us a curve ball, that derail our carefully laid plans. days that bring clarity to a situation when there was none. days full of emotion and pain and happiness and joy and grief.
days like yesterday, when my moms parents celebrated 56 years of marriage. and days like tomorrow, where we will remember my dads mother who was just reunited with her husband of 62 years.
i look at my my moms folks. alive and kicking even though they’re either just over or approaching the 8 decade mark. i look at how many times they’ve driven across the country to visit us or other family members. and how they’re still madly in love after all these years.
and i look at my dads parents, who built a dairy farm from the ground up. my grandfather holding down a full time job while simultaneously milking upwards of a hundred head of cattle every morning and every evening. and even though they’re no longer with us, their legacy lives on.
each of my grandparents raised 6 children. and although no family is ever perfect, they each, in their own way, gave tremendously into their kids.
this weekend has been full of stories. stories of hope. stories that bring tears and smiles, often at the same time. stories that tell of a great man and a great woman who did their best to raise a family. and as i sit here in panera, i cannot help but see that there are footprints out there.
and that gives me hope. hope that change is coming. that the things ive put on hold the past few years are just that, on hold. not lost forever.
i wonder, often, if i’ll be the man that can live up to that calling. to be a man who is still in love with his wife 56 years into things. who could hold down what would amount to two full time jobs just so he could provide for his kids. a man that would leave behind a name that automatically brings respect in the circles that he influenced.
because if im honest with you, thats what i want. i want people to remember me as someone who loved my wife with fierce passion. someone who leaves behind a name that his kids are proud to use. a man unashamed to show his love, to be tender and compassionate. a man, worthy of the stories i will hear this week. a man, worthy of the the stories i want my kids and grandkids to tell.
a man worthy of the author of this story.
i dont want a life full of vapor. and though i learn this lesson all the time, im thankful for every reminder that life isnt meant to be full of car payments and an8-5. that taxes and paying the bills isnt all there is to life. i’m thankful for each reminder that there are bigger things im living for. and that although i would never have chosen this path, i can know and trust that the author of this story is in control. and even if, even when i dont see the next step, He does.
so i will trust. i will trust that this author will take the 8-5, the car payments and taxes, and when the time is right, He will bring the bigger things.
i know recently ive written a lot recently about fatherlessness. part of my reason for doing so is because i see myself as fatherless. and when youre 30 and thinking about the female species, it can be terrifying. terrifying to know you dont have a role model to follow. you dont have someone who walked the road you’re about to walk.
john eldredge in his book fathered by God, talks about a moment he had while on vacation in alaska. their guide took them ashore and offered to show them something most tourists never see. after 20 minutes of walking through forests, they came upon a bog. a wetland, where the earth was more water than solid ground. their guide led them to a path that cut the bog in two. footprints, set evenly apart. footprints of solid ground, where there shouldnt have been any. solid ground, surrounded by wetland.
the guide explained to them that through countless generations, this path had been formed by bears. the adult generation males would teach the younger males the path to walk on, the youth would learn by placing their feet in the footsteps of their fathers.
the reality of this situation wasnt that there was a solid path to walk on, but there were solid places to put ones foot. John talks about standing in awe as his foot landed in a footprint perfectly spaced for a four-legged creature to traverse a dangerous and unsure ground. a footprint formed quite possibly over a millenia. generations of bears teaching the younger ones where to walk. and in doing so, building a foundation for the generations that were to come.
you cant look at a place like that and not think that fathers are unimportant. that fatherhood isnt important. because it is. because it’s in the father that a son finds his true worth. it’s in a father that a son learns to push his boundaries, overcome his limits and grow into the man that he is destined to be. it’s in a father that a son learns how to love, to call the girl, to change oil and fix a flat tire. it’s in a father that a son learns who he is, and who he can be.
fathers were destined to teach their sons where the solid footsteps were. remove a father from the equation, and even though that ancient path exists, even though there are steps laid out for a young male to become the man he is destined to be, you remove from him the ability to find that path.
i think what im learning the most is that this path to manhood was never meant to be walked alone. the younger ones learned the safe places to stand by watching their fathers. by watching the generation before them forge ahead. and they in turn, taught their children.
in the absence of a father, that ancient chain is broken. and a man is forced to step out on his own. and if you’ve ever spent time in a bog, without solid footing, you know it’s almost impossible to cross.
yes, there will be missteps. and im sure before it’s over i will stumble and fall, but i will keep trusting. i’ll keep believing the words i’ve read. ancient words that say there is a Father to the fatherless. that say there is a great warrior fighting for me. ancient words that say that i am not fatherless.
it’s funny how many times each year i learn that my plans are very rarely the plans of the author of this story. i tend to catch a glimpse of something, a glimmer into the possibilities of the future and i latch onto that sliver of hope and squeeze it with all i have.
i’m learning that this thing called hope is rarely caught. it’s rarely something one can capture in the hand and save for the future. i’m learning that hope is something that is created in a way i cannot duplicate. it’s something that i can smother and choke, that i can ultimately snuff out. but it’s not something i can create.
i should have learned by now that the most beautiful moments in creation are fleeting, the sun settling behind the mountains as the stars flicker to life, the promises reminded when a rainbow breaks through the storm clouds, the hint of a new day as the early dawn bleeds into the sky.
these moments, in their own individual ways, are beautiful, fleeting, temporal. but if we’re looking for them, they’re around us every day. they are there, if only we’d notice. and im beginning to realize that hope is the same way. tin the early dawn, in the storm, in the sunset and the shimmering night sky. hope exists not because i create it, but because of the Creator. hope exists not because i hold onto it, but because it is given to me.
as much as i want to create and control, the spark of hope comes from a being far more powerful, and more wise than i. tonight, i find myself not only in need of hope but reminded that hope exists because of the Hope Maker. because of the Author of this story. and i’m learning that when those glimpses come, instead of grasping onto them and praying they wont go out, i need to stand in wonder at the beauty i’m being shown. because it’s in stopping, and treating these glimmers of hope like the gifts they are, that we fan the flame, that we breath life onto them. hope, much like fire, is a dangerous and powerful thing. it brings warmth, light and in so many ways we dont always realize, renewed life to those that it touches.
hope exists because in His ultimate wisdom, the Author of this story knew i would need it. knew i would need the reminder of promises unbroken wrapped in the colors of a rainbow. He knew i’d need to know that even through the violence born on the winds of the tempest, the sun still conquers the clouds. He knew that there would be times when i’d grab onto the quivering ray of hope and smother it in my fear of letting it go.
He knew that i’d need reminders, daily. reminders that there is beauty. that beneath the busyness of this world, beneath the chaos and noise that we live in, flow eternal words that cause the planets to follow their orbits. words that cause the stars to shine and the moon to glow. words that cause hope. words of grace and words of mercy.
words, of second chances.
im learning that bravery doesnt always mean victory. and that courage doesnt always equate success. i’m learning that the bravest things we can do rarely reflect the courage you’ll see in a movie. it is rarely glamorous or beautiful. more often than not, you wont find real courage shouting from the top of the mountain turning the tide of war.
im learning that the stories we read, frodo of the shire, william wallace, the spartans, maximus in gladiator, that although each of these characters display the various shades of courage, they paint glamorous images of bravery that dont always translate into real life.
im learning that you’ll find courage in the day-to-day. if you’re looking for it, you’ll find it in the single mom holding down a job while raising a toddler. in the divorcee who still aches from the missing piece. in the teacher who loves her children beyond their hardships and in doing so, changes a generation in their community.
im learning that bravery doesnt always shout. sometimes, in rare moments, bravery whispers. if you’re quiet, you’ll hear it. in the hushed determination of the heartbroken to keep her heart beating, in the whispered prayer of the faithful, in the quiet decision of the wounded, to keep loving.
sometimes the bravest thing we can do is to step out on that branch, give away a chainsaw, and face our greatest fears. even if it means we fall flat on our face.
if you’re reading this blog, then chances are you’ve been to a doctor dozens of times since you were born. from your childhood yearly check-ups to broken arms, from booster shots and minor surgery to emergency rooms and major issues, we’ve all seen doctors.
the average investment in time a person makes to sign their name “MD” is 11 years. 1 1 years of schooling. 11 years of dedication, hard work, tests, progress, mistakes, and learning from mistakes culminates in the bestowing of the title of Doctor.
when a highschool student decides he wants to look into the field of medicine, the road ahead of him, no matter his choice, is mapped out. should he want the distinction of signing his name with those two impressive letters, there is a plan for that. should he want to go into nursing, or radiology, or plastic surgery, or dermatology or any of the dozens of choices he has, there is a defined plan for that path. a plan of challenges, tests, steps that need to be taken and tasks that must be competed.
a student doesnt decide to become a doctor and then wonder how to get from where he is in life, to where he wants to be. yes, there will be challenges. he’ll have to sacrifice sleep, time, money and countless other little things. he’ll face tremendous hardships, but the plan, the map is there. if he sticks to the plan, at the end of those 11 years, he’s a doctor.
this doctor successfully pushed himself through 11 years of training. valuable training, for this doctor may hold peoples hearts in his hands. but if we’re lucky enough to be healthy people, our actual time spent with a doctor during a visit will probably be less than 10 minutes. 11 years of training for for 10 minutes of time.
so where am i going with this?
we know the training a doctor will go through before he is tasked with momentarily holding someones life in his hands. it’s detailed and thorough, as well it should be. doctors are initiated into their profession through a long process of tests, success, victories and i’m sure, failures. and, not to belittle the profession by any means, but that’s just a doctor. it’s what someone does, it’s not who they are.
with so much effort already put into the plan, the map for this person to become the doctor he or she wants to be, it’s surprising that the same amount of effort isn’t already in place for other things a man or woman may want to become. what about the woman who wants to be a mother? or the guy who wants to be the best husband he can be?
what training exists for a man who may hold a womans heart in his hands for the rest of his life…..
and as i sit here tonight, i think about the doctor. and the years of schooling, of sitting under those who’ve gone before, learning from their mistakes. of the countless hours studying any of hundreds of textbooks that cover thousands of situations he may find himself in. and i wonder.
why is this fatherlessness thing so big to me? i’m not going to be a doctor, that’s not my calling in life. but someday, i hope to be a husband. and thats huge. someday i’ll hold the heart of a woman in the palm of my hands. and i want to know what to do. i want to have gone through 11 years of learning, studying, absorbing the wisdom and learning from the mistakes of the countless men who’ve gone before me.
i’m learning a lot about this thing called fatherlesness. and as much as i know people dont view that as a big deal, it is.
it is for me.
why? because there is a guy. and because there is a girl. and this girl deserves a man. a man who knows how to love her. and fight for her. a man who knows where he came from, who’s been through the training and has learned from the elders, a man who is skilled and capable and strong of heart. a man who doesnt question his lineage but knows the ancient paths that have been walked by men for millenia. a man, initiated into this thing called manhood, by the men who’ve gone before.
why is all this so important? because beyond doctorates and medical degrees, beyond 11 years of schooling and 10 minutes per patient, beyond whatever profession i chose, who i am and who i become are infinitely more important.
and because loving her will be the most important thing i ever do.
i’m beginning to believe that this year will be defined by my search for significance. for meaning. for purpose.
i dont pretend to believe that i wont face battles this year. as many internal, as external. i know i’ll make mistakes, there is no doubt of that. this? scares me. becoming the man i want to be, becoming an (adam) scares me. i like answers, i like having them. i dont like stepping into situations without a plan, without having thought through the various outcomes and how i would respond to each. it’s the control-freak part of me. and i hate being that way.
i hope putting that out here, actually saying that i struggle with it, is a step in the right direction.
when this year draws to a close, i want to be able to say that i found my significance, my meaning, my purpose and source of strength in the One who is authoring this story. in the One i can trust.
i’m one week into my 30th year. and my prayer is that at the end, i will be able to say i lived a year worth living, to its fullest. that i learned to dance, fall in love, let someone in, and let things out. i want to stand at the end of my 30th year knowing i loved fiercely, with all i was. that i loved unconditionally. that i, well, simply this
i will offer up my life
in spirit and truth
pouring out the oil of love
as my worship to You
in surrender i must give
my every part
Lord, receive the sacrifice
of a broken heart
part of this journey, of these letters, will be facing my demons, my fears, my wounds. and bringing them to light. and last nights post, was just that. was what i hope is the beginning of this journey.
because if i truly want that change, if i truly believe that my future (eve) is worth the task given to me, if this dream is worth sacrifice, then it requires an honest appraisal of who one is. i cannot get where i want to be if i dont accept the simple truth about where i am. last nights post, was me, planting a flag on the map of life that said you are here.
it’s not my final destination, it’s not even tomorrows destination. but for this moment in my life, it defines a portion of who i am. at times, that portion seems huge. and at times, the definition seems huge. but they’re not final. they dont reflect my hopes, my dreams, my goals. or the type of man i want to be.
when this year began, i promised myself that this year would be a year of trying new things. of stepping out of old patterns of thinking, old ways of doing things. and my flag, next year, that says “you are here” wont be where this years is. it wont. because this is the year things change, i change. this will be the year definitions change.
FindingTheCourageToDream.com 