Category Archive

i hate fear.

i hate it with a passion.  a hatred that is deep.  down inside the most basic parts of who i am.  i hate what fear does, and what it keeps me from doing.  i hate how much i dislike confrontation.  how much my own fear keeps me from pursuing the things i want to.  i hate that i gave in to the fear that i wasnt worthy of this, of pursuing the girl, of joy and happiness and actual life in life.

i hate that there are moments when the fear i feel is so overwhelming i’m almost rendered motionless.  i hate that im terrified of abandonment, of not being good enough, of failing, of not being love-able.

what i hate the most, is that part of me knows that the fear, as real as it seems, isnt the truth.

i could show you my scars.  the scars that lead to each and every fear i have.  i could tell you the depth of the pain, let you see the damage done.  i could share with you the stories of heart-break that ive lived through.  i could easily prove to you why i fear.  and why fear is something i hate.

but what i really want, is to break free.

there.  i said it.

i.  want.  to.  break.  free.

why?  because there is a girl, and she is worth it, because life is worth it.  because  i am worth it.

i’m not sitting on the sidelines any longer.

i may never have all the answers, and i cannot promise to be perfect or love the girl the way she deserves.  but i’m going to try.  i’m going to follow the King who’s name i proclaim.  it means, this means war.

i will trust Him….

i will break free.

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.