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….somehow we all know that to play it safe is to lose the game
-Erwin Raphael McManus
there are days that flash by.
work, eat, sleep, repeat.
we tend to convince ourselves that this life, this wash, rinse, repeat existence is life. that working hard, and enjoying the benefits thereof, are all that life offers.
if we’re not careful, and if we insulate ourselves enough, months if not years will fly by cocooned in this existence. and suddenly you’re in your thirties with a wife, 2.5 kids, a white picket fence, and you realized you insulated yourself into never living life. you never chose the hard things, you never pulled back the satin finish to see what was underneath. you never cried out for the healing of the hurts you wish were never there. you never asked… wept, that your heart would break, for what breaks His.
you never gave your all, and as a result… life will never give you everything. you’ll have a safe, content existence.
i dont want that existence.
then there are days that give you pause. and remind you that there are still hurts that need healing. that i’m not perfect. that this grace i so oft lose sight of, is what keeps me. what holds my head above water. what has made me who i am.
there are days you catch sight of….. one whom at one time meant something to you. and your gut reaction betrays the lie you’ve been telling yourself. that you’re ok. that you dont still hurt. maybe its a parent, or an ex girlfriend or boyfriend. maybe its the betrayal suffered at the hands of the closest of friends. whatever it is, however deep the pain, if we dont want that insulated life, we must force ourselves to pull back the satin finish. and see the ugly stains beneath.
we must face our hurts, our pains… if we want to live more than just a safe existence.
i have tough questions i need to face. and the fact that i excel at avoiding them, is a skill i wish i’d never obtained. but i this quiet Voice, is telling me that this is it. that this is the time. that there wont be another moment like the one i have now.
i must face my hurts, my pains, if i want to live more than just a safe existence. if i want to love my future wife with my all. if i want to serve, work, give, worship and love with all i am…. then i must open all of who i am to the One who can heal.
i spent the majority of this week in Denver on business. and as much as the trip was a professional blessing, i found myself thinking of things completely un-work related.
i was at a company sponsored dinner last night. and as the wine flowed, and conversation came easy to those around me, something caught my attention…
i sat there, and i stared. it was simple really, it wasnt anything miraculous or breathtaking to anyone but me. it didnt cause the earth to stand still. there was no voice from heaven or angelic choir. it was the hand of my coworker. holding a wineglass. it was her left hand. and there was a beautiful ring on her finger.
and in a moment, everything around me faded away. i was transported. i wasnt at dinner surrounded by coworkers. i was lost a world beyond my physical location. wondering… wondering whose hand would sit across the table from me, every night for the rest of my life. whose ring would glitter in the dim light of the italian restaurant… whose hand would mindlessly caress her wineglass.
i wondered if i’d ever find her. and if she wonders the same thing.
later that evening… a certain someone popped into my head. and, well. i realized this:
you? you are beautiful. and its not just a physical beauty. it isnt. it emanates from who you are. from your spirit. you glow. and it makes all of who you are, beautiful.
you? you are worthy to be chased. you are worth fighting for. you are worth losing everything in life to obtain. you are the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. you are worth waiting for. and worth dreaming about.
you may not see it yet, not as clearly as you will. you may not even believe it’s there, but it is. its inside you. a gift from your Creator. specific to you, and for you. and it makes you beautiful.
and even if i’m never the one to chase you, even if im not the one who sits across from you, filled with joy because you wear my ring. even if i never get the chance to tell you in person, you are worthy of pursuing. and if there was a line to stand in, i’d camp outside to be first.
you’re worthy of love. of fighting for.
you are beautiful.
if i disappeared tomorrow, what would i leave behind? what legacy would carry on beyond just me? would people tell stories? would my life be worthy of remembering?
im slowly realizing that each day im alive, i’m gifted with the blessing of a blank canvas, a brush, and a pallet of colors to chose from. and each day, im faced with the challenge and responsibility of painting how the day will go. how i will chose to act, and react. how i will speak, and how i will listen.
what colors do i paint with? what colors do i chose to use?
what memory will be left when im gone? what will people remember about me?
im realizing that my lack of deep relationships here in texas directly impacts the depth and passion with which my colors will come through. there is no deeper a blue, or vibrant a red, no more alive a green than what comes from mixing your colors with those of someone you care for.
friendship breeds color, and the vibrant brightness of life.
when im gone, i want people to look at my paintings and know that i lived a full life. i want them to see the green of the hills in Ireland, the gray skies of a Scottish morning, the deep blue of Australia’s coral reefs. i want them to know that the red of my love burned deep, for my saviour, and for my wife.
paintings like that, colors as rich as the experiences this life can offer, dont come overnight. they’re birthed each day, when you wake up. when i wake up. colors like that come from risk. from allowing yourself to be real. to be a friend, even when you’re afraid. colors like that are born from the real, gritty experiences that can be found only by living life fully.
if i want colors that rich, then the blackness of my nights will be that much darker. the deep blue pain will be that much more sharp. the gray of loneliness will be that much more real.
life in so many ways is an all or nothing ordeal. many times, you will not be able to pick and chose the experiences you walk through. if you chose to live life to its fullest, it will be breathtaking, it will be filled with love. but you will also feel pain and you will know intimately, the sting of betrayal, and the heartbreak of loss.
i cannot help but feel that when Christ called his first disciples, that deep in their soul, they knew that this calling, this question to follow the One they’d only just met, they knew that His offer carried with it the weight of a life fully lived. a life filled with the brightest colors this world could offer, but also the darkest nights they would ever experience.
and here we are, 2000 years later still standing in awe of the lives they lived.
i want that.
i’ll take the dark nights, the deep blue of pain and the aching gray of loneliness. i’ll take those because i’m listening to His call. and i’m choosing to follow.
i found myself stumbling down memory lane. not so much memories of what was, but of what could have been. had decisions been different. had i been someone in a different place, a different time, many years ago.
and i found myself wondering if she would have been mine. would we, could we have wound up together?
i’m not obsessing. im not. because i havent thought of this person in some time. but she popped up on my facebook. and i remembered how sweet her spirit was, how honest and sensitive her heart was. and i wondered.
my heart broke as the realization came that more than likely, she had in some ways, abandoned her faith. she had found her solace, in a man. and although i am thrilled for her. i hurt too. because of what she may be missing. and because in so many ways, i am just like her.
how often do i settle for less than His best? or concede things i should fight for?
would i have fought for her?
when i meet the her im supposed to meet, will i fight for her? will i fight to keep her safe? to protect her honor and valor? to defend her relationship with the Author of this story? will i be a man who protects and cherishes her heart? or will i be a point of concession? a footnote in the story?
love confuses me in so many ways. but i believe that’s a good thing. there is a supposed to be mystery, suspension. something there that doesnt quite make sense but is beautiful and breathtaking and terrifying all at once. love is supposed to rip you open and completely destroy what you thought was true. love is supposed to change everything. its was created to be the pinnacle of this story that we live.
someday, i hope i find it. but beyond that, whomever you are out there, i pray that i will be man enough to be more than just a footnote in your story. i pray my love for you, and for the Author of our stories, will be strong enough…. to love you for you.
i had a conversation with someone earlier today. one that ive had with myself more time than i can count. and i came to realize that we are all, our own worst critic. and because we berate and beat ourselves so, because we’re so hard on ourselves, we never truly see the beauty that’s being created inside of us.
we never realize that our scars, are the very things that give us our beauty. we never realize that our stories, our stories of hope, of battle, of victory… of loss, of pain, and of abandonment…these stories weave together to create in us the very things that make us beautiful. these stories are a part of who we are, and when we look at them separately, when we dissect them and take then apart piece by piece. we lose. always.
if you look at the parts of who i am, i am a failure. if you were to take apart my relationships, my job, my history, my passions, my sins… and review each one, i would be found faulty, broken and without defense.
my stories would each, individually, persuade you that i am a failure. a broken, overly emotional man with a serious fear of commitment. these stories, in and of themselves, would tell you im damaged, un-whole, and unwholesome. unable to love, and unlovable.
hydrogen, helium and other elements. thats it. that, in its barest form, in its individual parts, is a star. hydrogen, helium and other heavier elements. cosmic leftovers. and in and of themselves, useless.
but if you stand back, just a bit and take in the bigger picture, you’ll realize that a star is more than that. you’ll realized that it was placed there, by a hand much larger than yours. you’ll realize that it’s not just one star, but billions. and you’ll realize that with your naked eye, you hardly see the tiniest percentage of whats out there.
you’ll realize that a star is more than the sum of its parts. its more than hydrogen or helium. you’ll realize that just one star, points the way north and has been used by humans for centuries to navigate by.
stars, together, have told stories, been the stuff of myths and legends, acted as omens, and a sign of things to come. one star, even heralded the coming of the One who knows each one by name.
im not perfect. far from it. in fact, in the lens of grace, you’d see every one of my imperfections. you’d see how truly unlovable, and unable to love i am. you’d see me for how wretched of a person i am.
but its this very lens of grace, that cost the life of the only perfect person who ever walked this earth, its this very lens… that deems me lovable, whole, and able to love.
so yes, if you take my life apart, i am broken. i am damaged and unholy. i am loveless and unlovable.
but if you take a step back, and see my life through the lens of grace, if you see your life through the lens of grace… you’ll see the beauty that i’m learning exists in us all. you’ll see your scars not as ugly, but as testaments to who you are. to how far you’ve come, and to who this One is, who promises to heal the broken hearted.
i may have a long way to go to become the person that grace tells me i can, but i want to. because grace is amazing. grace makes me beautiful, and it makes you beatiful. and more than anything, i want to see that beauty.
“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures”
-Thorton Wilder
Happy Thanksgiving
i hope you find what you’re looking for. and i hope that someday, it’s me.
i’m not really sure why that’s the thought that’s running through my head tonight. aside from the fact that in a way, it encompasses my heart. it’s where i hope i’m at.
preparation. training. the beginning.
of what? i’m not sure. but i just know that this isn’t all. that this isn’t what it is, ‘just because’. that there is more to the chaos, a theme to the stories that are being written. a current of hope beneath the crashing of the waves.
because someday, i want to be that answer. i want to be that person that you’re chasing. i want to be that person that you’re looking for. and someday, i want you to be the person i chase. the person i’m looking for. that person that will….
life will never be predictable. it will never fit into nice little molds, or conform itself to the way we want it to be. but sometimes, we’re lucky enough to capture a glimpse of why we’re here. of why this is happening. and we realize that what we are going through is working in us something so much greater. something that will make this all worth while.
we realize that this cacophony of noise has a Conductor, and as we tune our ear and turn our hearts, the nosie fades and we begin to hear the sweet notes of a symphony. we see catch glimpses of the Conductor, directing, changing and calling out different sections; woodwinds, brass and strings. we slowly realize that our part in this symphony is much smaller than we first thought, and at the same time, so much more amazing than we ever dreamed. we realize that even when we feel the most alone, we’re not. and even when our heart breaks, that ours isn’t the only one. and that even when life is its most cruel, and the tears flow freely, that there is still melody in the pain. that there is healing, right where we’re at. and that it’s at the darkest parts of our lives that we come to realize that this Conductor knows exactly what He’s doing… and if we only hope…
we will see the dawn.
the road we’re called to walk is very rarely paved. almost without fail, we’re caught offguard by how rough it can be. we’re thrown a curveball. we find out that the husband of a coworker just died… a coworker who was your age. who has two little ones. or a conversation with a family member doesnt go well, and your eyes are opened to how bad things really are.
its in those moments we look even harder for a purpose. for a reason for this madness. for some semblance of hope amidst the chaos. some pattern that speaks of a plan, of a purpose. that speaks to the truth that this isnt all random. and that we’re not alone.
that im not alone.
and thats really where i find myself tonight. both knowing, and hoping, that i wont be alone.
i’m waiting. waiting for whats next. hoping, that ive done what i needed to do. that ive taken the steps to become the man im supposed to be. hoping that ive found this healing, and that it is real. that it sticks, that i continue to heal. hoping that i wont give up. and that the changes im seeing, are forever changes.
because in all honesty, that’s the life i want to live. a forever life. a life that knows its not any more important than it actually is. a life that knows its here to serve, to love, and to find meaning in all of this.
a life that proclaims, and points, to purpose. to hope. a life that finds its purpose in the Author of my story…. and i honestly truly hope that this story finds itself intertwined with another.
but throughout this week ive been reminded that this hope, this desire for another, cannot ever be my goal. because whomever she is, she will not complete me. and i will never be completeness to her.
unless i find my entirety, my being, my self worth and unconditional love at the foot of the cross of the Author of my story, i will never be complete. and i will never be the man i need to be. my story will never be filled with the passion, the compassion, the joy and fire and vivacity i so yearn to see, unless i continually allow the author to have his way. i will never experience the love i so long to give, unless i find it first in Him. the canvas of my life will never be filled with the colors in my heart, i do not have the ability to bring them out. not in and of myself. but He does. the Author does. and it is there i will find life. i will find love. and i will find hope.
i still hold the belief
that we are free
that we don’t need the rules to see
that despite what we’ve done
we’re not alone
we’re closer than we think to home
It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
-President Theodore Roosevelt
may this be my creed.
FindingTheCourageToDream.com 