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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 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.
a phrase i throw around with altogether too much abandon. but in this case, for tonight, i use it as it should be used.
because only God could have known how December would turn out. that i’d have surgery, react to the anesthesia, be sicker than I’d ever been, ride in an ambulance, and be out of work for almost 2 weeks.
its a weird feeling. and its strange timing.
i was given a promotion the morning before i had a doctors appointment. 5 hours after the doctors appointment, i was being prepped for surgery. and two days later, i was headed back to the hospital, in the back of an ambulance.
i’m ok. i am. and even with all that has transpired, my physical body is ok. it is. the reaction to the anesthesia was easily controlled within minutes of getting back to the hospital. and by that afternoon, i was a new man. so please, whatever you do, my point tonight is not for you to worry about me. its not.
its to set the stage.
to share with you how crazy December has been.
its me, realizing that i’ve found my identity not in my calling, or doing good, not in my Savior, or His promises of who i am, but in my work. and its me, realizing that after not being at work for so long…. i feel lost.
i feel lost because i found myself in my work. in clock-punching. not in serving, or in worship, or in falling at the feet of the One who gave His all so that i could live this life.
but in work.
its not an easy thing to learn and its even harder to act on. its one thing entirely to say that one trusts God when one just received a promotion. its another thing entirely when one hasnt been at work a full day since receiving said promotion. and knowing that ‘restructuring’ occurred while you were out recovering.
its one thing entirely to trust Him when your finances are steady, and you trust that your job will be there in the morning. its something else entirely when you’re physically incapable of going to work. and you’re left to face your fears, your shortcomings, and your realizations that you found your value in what you did. and not who you are… or who He is.
its me, realizing that my priorities are wrong. and that even if i am out for another week, or even two weeks, that my identity isnt in my job. that its not in promotion, or loss… its not in being successful or failing… its knowing that my identity stands in the love of the One who came for me.
it’s Christmas. the season of hope. of new beginnings. of a promise birthed 2000 years ago in a manger. a promise, made to me, that life wasn’t just clock-punching, that there is a calling on my life and on yours. and job or not, promotion or not, happy bank account, or not a dime to my name…. that He is trustworthy.
so, here i stand. my priorities are messed up, and i’m afraid. because i’ve lost who i am, who i really am. but this is Christmas. so i’ll fall at the feet of the One who came for me, and i’ll be ok.
Caedmon’s Call – Ten Thousand Angels
how long you have traveled in darkness weeping
no rest in language, no words to speak
but there in the wreckage beneath bricks and bindings
love has come, love has come for you
against the night sky of your waiting
your face is like starlight when he walks in
everything worth keeping comes through dying
love has come, love has come for you
so lift up your heart now, to this unfolding
all that has been broken will be restored
here runs deep waters for all who are thirsty
love has come, love has come for you
ten thousand angels will light your pathway
until the day breaks fully in the East
they will surround you and make your way straight
love has come, love has come for you
love has come, love has come for you
i think we live our lives based around them, even if we dont even notice.
we’re inherently creatures of habit. we do things the same way, every day. your morning routine? its the same, i can almost guarantee it. for me? i wake up, make the bed, let the dog out, make coffee… its always that routine. if i deviate, i forget to make coffee, or something else vital falls by the wayside.
my point, we live our lives based on themes. habits. things we’ve done before. things we rely on. and for better or worse, we dont like change.
i think the author of this story does His best to throw us curve balls. to get us to lift our eyes above the two dimensional lives we so often live, and realize that above us is this amazing sky filled with stars. to realize that letting the dog out and making coffee every morning isn’t all that there is.
that there are reasons for the responsibilities we’ve been given. even if we dont understand them. and that its ok we’re still searching for whatever it is we know our heart beats for. that, even now… there is someone else out there asking the same questions you are. and that saving who you are, and all you have, for that one… is worth it.
i think the Author, if He could, would tell us that our tears are precious. that the questions we ponder when its just us and our pillows… that He’s already got the answers to them. i think He’d tell us that there is a huge, wide world out there just waiting for us. that this life He created is aching for us to live it, as much as we ache to fully experience all that there is.
i think He’d say that, that its ok to keep questioning. and that its ok to feel. to hurt, and cry and be honest and real with who we are.
because if there is a Author, then we know this story has another chapter coming. that clock punching and coffee making are temporary. and that the pain of fixing what is wrong now, will be less than the pain of never changing.
so wherever it is you find yourself tonight, i hope you find healing in your pain. and a meaning in the name of this Author.
because if there is a sky blanketed by stars, then im going to hope and believe that there are whole chapters waiting to be written. that this road before me isnt all there is. and that things will change. soon.
i’m trusting Him. even though i dont understand. I’m still going to trust.
for tonight:
Stavesacre – Wither/Ascend
someday my ashes will return to earthly slumber
spread far and wide across the desert and the sea
until then i will live each day in awe and wonder
and look forward to each sunrise
for tonight… Lifehouse – Breathing
i’m finding my way back to sanity, again
though i don’t really know what
i am gonna do when I get there
take a breath and hold on tight
spin around one more time
and gracefully fall back in the arms of grace
cos i am hanging on every word You say
and even if You don’t want to speak tonight
that’s alright, alright with me
cos i want nothing more than to sit
outside heavens door and listen to You breathing
is where I want to be
i am looking past the shadows
of my mind into the truth and
im trying to identify
the voices in my head
God which one’s you?
let me feel one more time
what it feels like to feel
and break these calluses off me
one more time
cos i am hanging on every word You say
and even if You don’t want to speak tonight
that’s alright, alright with me
cos i want nothing more than to sit
outside your door and listen to You breathing
is where I want to be
i don’t want a thing from You
bet you’re tired of me waiting
for the scraps to fall
off your table to the ground
i just want to be here now
cos i am hanging on every word You say
and even if You don’t want to speak tonight
that’s alright, alright with me
cos i want nothing more than to sit
outside your door and listen to You breathing
is where I want to be
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
my eyes still search for a purpose. they still hunger for more. they still do not rest without first looking up expectantly. i cannot go to sleep each night without first finding the moon and straining against the artificial, to see the stars…. to find true light.
i believe that yearning is only a mirrored reflection of what is truly going on inside of me. inside of you. inside of us all.
the search for beauty.
its all around us. promised in movies, magazines and tv. its spewed like gospel from the perfect mouths of millionaire spokes models. its preached from every marketplace- beauty, completeness, the hole-filling substance that will make you feel complete, whole.
products, marketing, consumerism, all predicated on the ingrained belief that you are not good enough. that i am not good enough. that we, no one, is good enough. and we never will be. not without this new thing, or that new product, or those ten new techniques. not without this amazing new ______ or that newly reformulated creme. we’re never good enough. but if you spent enough, bought enough, try hard enough, we will be. or so we’re told.
our lives become full of stuff. cluttered, artificial. we spend our days working hard for a paycheck. and we spend our nights and weekends hunting for that next fix, that next thing to complete us. to fill that aching void. we dance the dance of window shoppers. always looking, hoping, never truly finding satisfaction. never truly finding that one thing that completes us. that fills that hole.
we try, we burn ourselves out attempting to be good enough, to fit in. to have or act or say or wear whatever the right things are. all because deep down, we know we are faulty, broken, failed attempts at humanity searching for something with depth, for some form of truth. something that justifies our existence. that tells us our dreams for more, and our constant disappointment each time we find new ‘stuff’, isnt wrong. something that tells us that there is more. that life is out there, calling. that it aches for us to live it as much as we ache to taste true life, true freedom… to taste – truth.
we’re so afraid to show our true selves that we bury it; underneath our jobs or friends, beneath the veneer of wealth, skill or beauty. we hide behind our desks or our hobbies, our religion and our beliefs.
we do all that, fully knowing but never truly grasping that we are all broken, faulty, damaged beings. that we all remember the taste of hopelessness and the emptiness of knowing that we will never be capable of creating the beauty we so long to see.
we know, we just know we will never find what we’re looking for in the mall. but we keep looking anyway.
and you see this. if you dont yet, you will. go to the mall next friday night, find someplace busy and just watch. watch people. you’ll see the anorexic, the drunkard… you’ll see the girl so wanting to be loved she allows herself to be used. you’ll see the kids who’s parents dont care and the adults who’s parents never cared.
they… we… always fearing, always hoping that one day someone will see us. the real us. see through the gloss and find true beauty. the beauty we all hope exists inside of us. we all hope, but we’ve never been brave enough to risk showing it.
we always hope that someone would recognize the value in us, see that beauty, see beyond our brokenness and offer unmerited, unearned and wholly unconditional love.
(Delirious – Find Me In The River)
so what comes next? what happens after this? will i continually be content with the safety of the now? or will i strike out on my own? strike out into unknown, uncharted territories? will i move into something i’ve always wanted, but always talked myself out of?
somehow, i’ve convinced myself that everything i was ever shown, all i ever knew, everything my dad ever said – either with his words and actions, or by what was never spoken, and never shown – that it’s all true. that im somehow damaged, and incomplete. that i was never expected to amount to a whole lot. that im destined to walk the same path he did.
i walk around like there is a huge shadow that follows me, weighing me down. the shadow of failures not my own. of questions that never cease to swirl through my mind. i feel like i never had a chance to become me. that, by the time i had an idea of who that was supposed to be, the world changed, and to survive, i needed to change with it. and now im left with the questions, the wondering, trying to figure out what i’m supposed to do. what this calling is supposed to look like. i know – so many questions, and i seem to only run in circles.
im slowly learning that the answers will come. that even in the moments when im stuck on the hillside, or the bottom of a dry river bed… seemingly not moving at all, that those moments were destined too. im learning that my destiny is formed as much in the small insignificant moments, as it is in the huge momentous, mountain-top experiences. im learning that life is found in the little things. in the words of a friend. or the in the smile of a beautiful girl. in the red sunrises, or moonlight nights. in the text from someone who cares, or an old friendship that has reconnected.
life is made of the decisions i make each day.
and if what i want, is to be the type of man that an amazing woman can fall in love with, then i’ve got a long way to go. i need to find a way to walk from underneath my fathers shadow. to know deep down that his choices do not control my destiny. that i’m not him, and never will be.
as much as i wish that life was filled with mountain-top moments, moments of victory and passion… more often then not, life is filled with pain. with more moments in a dry riverbed, then on the lush mountain top.
and if i was honest with you, you’d know that ive been running. from my fears, from this God who wants to be my Father. from the shadow of a destiny that isnt even mine.
i cant run any longer. not if i want to see these dreams, these passions and this hope, come to fruition.
we didnt count on suffering
we didnt count on pain
but if the blessings in the valley
then in the river i will wait
find me in the river
find me there
find me on my knees
with my soul laid bare
even though you’re gone
and i’m cracked and dry
find me in the river
i’m waiting here
for you
so much i could say. so much swirls at my feet. so many questions.
but this is all that matters.
Celtic Bridge – Be Thou My Vision
be thou my vision, oh Lord of my heart
be all else but naught to me, save that thou art
be thou my best thought in the day and the night
both waking and sleeping, thy presence my light
be thou my wisdom, be thou my true word
be thou ever with me, and I with thee Lord
be thou my great Father, and I thy true son
be thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one
be thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight
be thou my whole armor, be thou my true might
be thou my soul’s shelter, be thou my strong tower
O raise thou me heavenward, great Power of my power
riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise
be thou mine inheritance now and always
be thou and thou only the first in my heart
O Sovereign of heaven, my treasure thou art
High King of heaven, thou heaven’s bright sun
O grant me its joys after victory is won
great Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
still be thou my vision, O Ruler of all
FindingTheCourageToDream.com 