Tag Archives: facing challenges

Why You Must Face Your Shame

“I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom.” – Matthew 18:3-4 MSG

How long it’s taken me to understand this. How I’ve resisted the knowledge that to get what I really want, I’ve got to face my shame of being no one.

And it’s such a common story: I just wanted to be strong, independent, a self-made man. How shameful is that? Somehow despite all I knew about following Jesus, I still resisted this very humility that’d bring what I was really looking for.

Being healed, whole, and fully alive meant trying many things before I could give up trying.

Just how much of the whole struggle does this part of it make up? I don’t know. But based on how hard it is to hear, let alone do something about, I’m betting it’s more than many of us want to admit.

Knowing what you really want tells you how to proceed. If you know what you’re after, you know your deepest passion. Passion is what gets the work done, but few people are deeply aware of what their passion really is.

Because it’s really difficult to know! We want many things, we serve many masters. Our desires are all over the place. But that’s the core why of our passion, and uncovering the source of that drive, the why, is what makes the most compelling stories.

The archetypal hero is always really in search of her why. It’s a story you can never exhaust because we all somehow know the real reason is always deeper, and no amount of struggle will reveal it until we’re ready to give up trying.

And most will never stop trying because they’re too hurt, too bent on justice, too proud to admit their own faults, and too ashamed to admit their impotence. No one wants to see there’s a deep pathos at the core of life.

There was once a man who came to Jesus asking for his help to change his life. He didn’t know what Jesus would do, but he knew he needed help, and he knew Jesus could do something. He didn’t much care how or even what he did exactly. The strength of the desire overwhelmed every other concern.

When he found Jesus and made his request, he got the surprise of his life. Jesus wanted to know what the man was willing to do. Somehow Jesus knew the very thing that ashamed him the most, and it became the test of his worthiness to receive help. Faced with Jesus’ embarrassing request, the man thought and decided if Jesus was willing to help him, it was worth any loss of dignity and the man agreed. He did it. And Jesus healed him.

But as the man was walking home, he began to wonder what had really happened. Somehow he knew despite Jesus’ obvious power and ability to heal, he’d wanted the man to realize something more than that. In turning his request around, Jesus had asked for trust, and when the man agreed, he’d shown him how to be healed. And it wasn’t after he’d done what Jesus asked, but in the process of doing it he received the miracle.

This revelation was the true healing, the man realized, and as he walked, he began laughing. There was a cosmic joke at the core of life. The master had shown him something that could heal everything in his life, if he could only receive it. Maybe it was always a question of whether he could face the shame of what he feared the most–loss of pride. Only then would he be worthy to receive the thing he needed. That was the key, the test, the secret: the doing it anyway.

Facing your shame may not feel like the way to all you dream. It doesn’t excite me to think of where I might be abased or disrespected today. It certainly doesn’t seem like the reason I wrote a book. But in as much as I came looking for hope of something, and realized even faintly the source of that hope was only in one man, I’d be facing a test at some point to accept my deeper reason and his higher purpose.

The vision for any book of passion is in the shame the writer was willing to face for the true Author. And the doing of it, whatever it required, that was the truest test determining the outcome.

“It is essential to practice the walk of the feet in the light of the vision.” – Oswald Chambers

For the higher purpose,

Mick

Deciding What’s Best When You’re Faced with Endless Rabbit Holes

To my incredible, observant, kind-hearted, sensitive daughter, on your 15th birthday:

“I believe in you my soul…the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other.”

– Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

Being a parent means every day I get to think about not just what I’m doing, but what you’re going to do today. Will you face challenging decisions? And how will you decide what to do? This crazy-making love inside my soul says any super challenging decisions you face are probably just plain evil, so I want to tell you to forget school and stay here safe with me forever, never leave, and don’t grow up ever. Because I said so, that’s why.

But yes, I know there’s a reason “evil” is just “live” spelled backward. And you don’t need to remind me again.

The heater broke this weekend so it’s a bit nippy in the home office today. That’s not “evil” either, it’s just life. But the fact that the heater repairman can’t come until tomorrow and this little space heater can’t contend with old man winter slipping through these old walls certainly feels evil.

I could go down the rabbit hole of trying to diagnose and fix it myself. Or I could preserve my time for other matters. If I didn’t have a clear idea of where I’m needed today and why that’s a rabbit hole for me, I might try to level up in my handyman game. But on a Monday morning, that would be a clear violation of my saner self and my knowledge of my core operating instructions.

Ask anyone who studies or writes about these things and they’ll tell you these rabbit holes are proliferating. Like rabbits. And with cell phones, video games, Youtube, and the myriad entertainments, our new national pastime is quickly becoming a global pandemic.

Why are we so desperate for diversions? We seem to crave being distracted. It begs the question of whether there’s anything more intriguing than a rabbit hole. I mean, we know Lewis Carroll didn’t think so.

When you were little, you had a mobile. I had one when I was a baby too. I think it was rabbits chasing carrots or something, but it was a long time ago. The genius behind mobiles lies in distracting a baby and occupying their mind just enough to get them to fall asleep, sleep being the Holy Grail of all new parents. Simple, repetitive movement combined with a calming lullaby helped the fatigue from all that growing catch up with you.

Seems like everything these days is a potential rabbit hole. And maybe that’s always been true. But the attraction is greater–both the need and the distractions are stronger. I think there are good reasons for this, but maybe chiefly, our existential anxiety has never been stronger.

Believe what you like about the course of human progress, but as much as things continually get better, they also get worse. Much of the trade-off it seems happens between the exterior and the interior worlds. Maybe it’s our wiring, but our experience is dictated by this relationship between the physical and the conceptual. And the balancing of the two occupies a huge portion of life, whether we ever recognize it or not.

Every time you find a rabbit hole, there’s the experience of it, and there’s your thinking about and feeling your experience of it. Your experience of the world gets paused every night, but your thoughts and feelings never sleep. Clearly, one is more important than the other, given the amount of time we spend experiencing reality versus thinking, feeling, and processing experiences.

This, too, could be a rabbit hole. Nothing’s technically “wrong,” but it could be, potentially. Impulses and cravings themselves aren’t evil. They arise from the depths, like baby rabbits blinking in the sunlight. And what you do with them, how you decide to direct them is what you have to figure out–both before they arise, and then rabbit by rabbit.

Sorry, it’s sort of a thematic metaphor, I guess.

Last night as I was chopping kindling and feeling manly, I took a too-long piece to snap against my thigh and this morning it took me a few seconds to realize why my leg’s sore. At the time, I barely noticed. It felt like living. But today it feels evil. I don’t know, maybe it’s both.

What you do will come from what you decide is best, and like Whitman says, you can’t “abase” your life or your experience of it. Both simply are, and naming them something else like “evil” does no good. What you decide to do about them, that’s where moral codes come in. And that’s where you have to realize everything but everything is a rabbit hole, and all your thoughts and feelings are baby rabbits.

And if you want to do what’s right for them, you’ve first got to decide to love them and want what’s best for all of them. They’re worth it and they’ll guide you. You’re their parent, like I’m yours and God is ours, so their safety and purpose are secure.

And all you’ve got to do is decide what’s helpful. But no one, even a parent who loves you, can decide for you. So don’t let anything distract you from doing what you must.

I love you, I’m with you, and you’ve got this because of who’s got you.

All things are lawfulbut not all things are helpful.” 

– The Apostle Paul (1 Cor 10:23)

For the higher purpose,

Dad

Our Only Real Hope for 2017

Do you do New Year’s resolutions?

I sort of do. I set some intentions based on who I want to be, goals I’d like to accomplish, and barriers I’d like to overcome. It’s nothing super specific or targeted. But this year, with one girl just entering the ‘tween years and one full-fledged teenager, there’s a certain urgency to get busy making that progress toward better health in every area.

I guess the question is, What will we need most in the coming year?

IMG_6452There’s the usual things–eat better, workout more, use better tracking and measures for both. But if these are just ways to improve myself, that’s going to fail. It’s not motivating enough.

Similarly, I know that if I want to improve my parenting, my relationships, my work and my play, I need a higher purpose.

I looked back to previous years’ posts and I saw how I fell short. Maybe it’s because of all the challenges I faced. I got sick, got busy, got distracted, and I forgot God and caring for others around me. Other factors conspired too: bad weather, discouraging words, circumstances. At times I was handed heavy weights of pain.

It was frustrating. But not all those challenges produced were such bad things. They slowed me down, made me reckon with the reality of life.

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Being sick forced me to slow down and just be with God. Being overworked forced me to pray and fight distraction. And being distracted made me better appreciate the value of the gift of time.

If I can simply remember that nothing worthwhile comes easy, that time and again it’s proven–no real struggle, no real progress–maybe I can slash failure out as a possibility for 2017. What I seem to need most are reminders–monthly, weekly, and daily–that every struggle is a chance to depend more fully on God, to embrace my inadequacy.

Why can’t that be my resolution for 2017?

I could seek out the struggling more, stand with the suffering. I could believe that some struggle is necessary if I’m going to appreciate and love God properly. I could trust that without trials and burdens I wouldn’t realize how much I need God.

Is this the good, the true, the beautiful higher purpose to be sought in this new year? To know that struggle and pain brings deeper dependence on God? Isn’t that the freedom from all fear of failure I’ve been seeking? This year, can I resolve not to forget and not to get busy with plans and avoid all the struggle, and miss the real point?

This year, I want to do more than plan to avoid struggle. I want to plan for a new resolution. I want to track my progress toward a higher weekly goal: to remember that God is with me in all things. 

This year, I could resolve to set aside selfish goals for a higher purpose.

…To know that when pain and difficulty come, I can remember to stay open to God’s voice and listen to it, ready to see what he has for me and others there.

I’ve said it all my life: no pain, no gain. Can I lay down my life in this way? Even invite struggling with others, the needy, the ones I’m here to love?

I don’t want to go on protecting my life, seeking my own gain, improving my status and reputation, striving for bigger and better in all things.

I want to resolve not to do that this year.

I want to resolve to remember God’s higher purpose and stand with the suffering.

I want to do this expecting something totally different come next Christmas. I want to finally let go and live what I believe. Because this I know:

Embracing struggle and pain and continuing to hope that God has a higher purpose for it all is our only hope of true progress this year.

This old world will break our hearts and make us despair if we don’t commit to this harder way. If there’s a spark inside you to do something different this year, don’t wait to fan it into a flame. Follow that voice of inspiration, and seek this higher purpose. The new year of blank days stretches out before you….

The new year of blank days stretches out before you….

We can resolve this, and know the thrill of freedom from any chance of failure. With this hope, there is no fail, only gain.

For it’s all for a higher purpose, in all He has in store for us this year,

Mick

p.s. I’ve been heading this way for a few months now, inspired by Ann’s most recent memoir, The Broken Way. If you’d like inspiration in following this idea in 2017, I can’t recommend the book any stronger.