A Week Full of Mondays

I had a week full of Mondays this week. Except for Tuesday, which was Christmas Day and awesome. That goes without saying. But the rest of the week . . . not so much.

Some weeks are like that. No matter how much you try, you say the wrong things. You do the wrong things. And when you try to correct your mistakes, it just gets worse. It’s like your foot got surgically implanted into your mouth or something.

So I’m glad it will be Saturday tomorrow. I mean surely, Saturday can’t turn into ANOTHER Monday, can it?

I suppose the lesson out of all of this is that a bad week serves the purpose of making you thankful for the good weeks, if nothing else.

I can at least be thankful for that.

 

December 23 . . . Two Days After My Supposed Last Day on Earth

It turns out that the Mayans were off a bit. More likely, the people who stay up late at night thinking about ancient Mayan calendars were off a bit.

The world didn’t end on December 21. There was no apocalypse. Nothing changed all that much.

There have been days when I’ve felt like my world was ending. Some days, I wished the world would end.

But today, I am thankful for another day to be alive and healthy and blessed. I realize more and more how each day is a gift, pure and simple. I don’t deserve it, I’m not entitled to it, and I’m not guaranteed the next one.

You wouldn’t know it sometimes by the way I gripe and complain about my slow internet or my lousy work hours. I’ve focused on what I don’t have for so long, it’s hard to retrain my thinking to what I do have.

We as a culture are obsessed with everything that we don’t have, everything we’re supposed to have, and how we can spend all our time and energy and money getting those things.

One of the most counter-cultural things anybody can do is to say, “No thanks, I have enough,” and be content. To be satisfied with what you have and not always striving for more.

So at least for today I am content. I have all my Christmas shopping done. I have things like food, clean water, shelter, transportation, and health that so many don’t have and work so hard to get.

I am blessed.

I still love what my pastor said. It goes like this. If God came to me today and said, “Greg, you’ve used up all your blessings I had for you and I have nothing left to give you for the rest of your life,” I could honestly say, “I’m good.” That’s contentment.

I’m not there yet, but I’m a whole lot closer than I used to be.

How about you?

Getting Sick is Really Sick, Ya Know?

I had round 2 with sickness last night.

I spend much quality time near the porcelain throne, paying homage. It felt like I threw up everything I’d eaten since 2007. It was not a fun experience.

I still don’t know what caused it– whether it was food poisoning or a stomach bug– but I do know this: I’m happy to be on the other side of it, blogging from an upright position and not in a fetal position at the foot of the toilet.

I’ve had worse pain before in my life, but last night I felt like December 21 had come early and the Mayans were on target. I wanted my sickness to end. I would have given just about anything for my stomach to settle down.

Don’t worry. I’m not contagious.

I’m extra-thankful for good health tonight. It sometimes takes a little pain and illness to make you appreciate the good days. It takes a little rain to make you appreciate the days of sunshine.

C.S. Lewis once said that pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world. He whispers to us through our pleasures, but shouts in our pain. Otherwise, we’d get so caught up in the gifts and forget the Giver. OK, at least I would.

Here’s hoping to a good night’s sleep for me. Here’s hoping for an attitude of gratitude and thankfulness for all the small blessings we normally take for granted.

As my friend says all the time, “Life is good, God is great.”

Oh Well

I have some shocking news that you may find hard to take. In fact, you may want to sit down for this one. . . wait for it . . . not everybody is going to like you.

OK, maybe I’m the only one who had a hard time accepting this truth. As a recovering co-dependent approval addict, I want everybody to like me. At least, if somebody doesn’t like me, I want to know the reason so I can change a behavior that’s offensive or modify an annoying habit.

But not everybody’s going to like you. And of those who don’t, probably few will ever tell you why. That’s just a hard lesson I’ve had to learn.

Of course most of the people who you think don’t like you probably do. You probably read them wrong. Or maybe that’s just me. I’ve tended to convince myself that someone else didn’t like me when he or she really didn’t. On a side note, they should probably make pills for this.

You can’t be all things to all people all the time. You can’t please everybody. But you can be yourself. You can be who God made you to be. At the end of the day, his opinion of you is really the only one that matters. And he likes you, by the way, in addition to loving you.

I’m better at this than I used to be, but I am still in the “needs improvement” category. At the end of the day, no one wants to be disliked. Well, 99% feel that way. Nobody sets out to alienate people or create enemies.

But you can’t control how others will respond or how they will perceive you. You can only control you by being the best you possible and praying for the ones who don’t like the result.

And there will be more than enough people who like you for you to offset the difference anyway.

Great North Star, But I’m Tired

I’m tired. When I left my temp job for the day, I was actually sore. I can’t remember the last time I was ever sore from a job, but I was today. Plus, I haven’t slept very well the last two nights.

I don’t think that will be a problem tonight.

I am reminded of the verse in Matthew where Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who labor and are weary, and I will give you rest.” It could also be rendered, “Come to me, all who work to the point of exhaustion, and I will give you rest.”

I think it can mean sleep. But more than that, it means that we cease striving so much. It means that we give up the ever-present need to always perform and to do and to acquire. It means that we are content with who we are and where we are in life.

It means that we know that ultimately it’s not up to us. God’s in control and he will take care of us. As simple as that sounds, we are a forgetful people who need reminding of the very simple and basic truths that we aren’t in control.

We need to remind ourselves that it’s alright to leave some things undone every now and then. It’s not the end of the world if every box isn’t checked on that to-do list. It’s no good accomplishing all your goals if the end result is burn-out and exhaustion. We need rest.

We need to cultivate times of quiet reflection where we can hear the still, small voice that refuses to speak over the continuous drone of our everyday lives. The voice that reminds us that we are not the sum of our possessions or our activity, but we are who God made us to be and who he calls us– beloved.

So take time tonight or some time in the morning to be still and know that God’s plans for you are good. Remember to find times of refreshment and rest and solitude.

That’s what I’m about to do.

 

The Joys of Insomnia

Last night, I couldn’t sleep. It was not fun.

I went to bed somewhere in the neighborhood of 11 pm and thought I would be good to go. An hour later, I knew I was in trouble. Every half hour later found me still wide awake and increasingly agitated with myself for not being able to sleep. I was also annoyed with my cat for being able to fall asleep the moment she laid down on the pillow (I’m sure she was equally annoyed with me for tossing and turning so much and waking her up). For the record, agitation doesn’t help you sleep. And no, warm milk did not help.

I have found the harder you try to sleep, the less likely it is that you will succeed. The old motto of “If at first you don’t succeed, try try again,” doesn’t work with insomnia. It only makes it worse.

This may or may not make sense to you, but I may or may not have fallen asleep somewhere between 2:30 and 7 am. I can’t really be sure that I wasn’t deep in thought or really sleeping. When I woke up in the morning, I didn’t feel like I had slept at all.

The good part is that I got in a lot of praying. Mostly along the lines of, “Lord, help me fall asleep,” but nevertheless, I had plenty of time to pray and meditate. The bad part is that I had plenty of time to think, too much time.

Hopefully, I will sleep better tonight. I have felt like a zombie all day and my mental capacity has been at the level of “fire bad, tree pretty.” It hasn’t been pretty.

Maybe I will experience the ultimate irony and dream about being awake all night with insomnia. Heck, I’ve dreamed stranger dreams than that by far.

I’m remembering the verse in the Psalms (I think) which says that God grants sleep to those he loves. That’s a beautiful promise. I pray tonight that both you and I realize that promise and that we wake up refreshed and ready for a new day full of possibilities and adventures and whatever God has in store for us.

Little Victories

Sometimes, we make Christianity an “all or nothing” affair. That means if I don’t completely succeed, I’ve failed. If I don’t completely overcome every temptation and obey the voice of God at every turn, I’ve lost.

But I think that’s not how it works. Most days are three steps forward, two steps back. Most days, you win some and you lose some, but you always learn something from it.

I’ve learned that sometimes you have to be thankful for the little victories. Sometimes, those are the only things that keep you going when the battle seems hopeless and life seems too hard.

I found today that it was okay that someone I wanted to notice me didn’t. A conversation I wanted to happen didn’t and I was more than okay with it. I was fine.

I didn’t try to force something that wasn’t there. I stepped back and trusted God. I count that as a little victory.

It’s when you don’t give into fear. When you don’t let anxiety overwhelm you. When you’re able to take a couple of deep breaths and plow through. You may not look so pretty at the end of the day, but you’re alive and standing. And in my book that counts as a victory.

So here’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Don’t beat yourself up when you’re not at your best or when you mess up yet again. Remember that God really is bigger than the problems you’re facing. Remember his plans for you are still good and still in operation.

Remember all the little victories you’ve experienced over the years. Also remember that the biggest victory of the biggest fight you will ever face is already won. How do I know? Because Jesus has already won it.

 

 

Finishing Well

 

I’ve considered running a marathon once or twice. Not seriously, but I did mull it over in my little noggin. Then I decided to lie down for a while.

I can imagine me in a marathon. I’d do well for 3-4 miles, then I’d slow down to a fast walk. By the end, I’d be crawling and begging for death. My time wouldn’t be measured in hours and minutes. It would be measured in days, ’cause that’s how long it would take me to finish.

In the race of faith, all that matters is that you finish. Even if you come crawling over the finish line, you’re still a victor. The only ones who lose are the ones who don’t finish.

It’s never too late to get started. It’s never too late to start over. Even if you dropped out a long time ago and haven’t run in years, it’s still not too late to get back in the race.

Hebrews 12 talks about how a great host is cheering us on. Imagine all the great biblical heroes of the faith. All the saints down through the ages. All the people you’ve known who inspired you with their faith before they finished their own race. Every one of them is looking down on you, cheering you on, rooting for you.

Most of all, God himself is cheering for you and rooting for you. He wants you to finish, but more than that, he’s given you everything you need to finish well. All you have to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep trusting with that mustard-sized faith that can move mountains.

The prize is not to the fastest or strongest or best-looking. The prize is for those who keep showing up and keep believing. It’s for those who fall down 1,000 times but get up 1,001 times. It’s for those whose race looks more like one of those maze games than a straight line.

It’s for you and for me if we just keep running.

 

5 Minutes

I’ve been trying to lose weight and get in shape. Lately, that means putting in an hour on the elliptical. For me, that’s a lot.

Some mornings, I feel there’s no way I can last that long. So I try for the first 5 minutes. After that, I try for 10. And so forth. If I break an hour down into 5-minute segments, it’s not nearly so bad.

Life is like that.

Some days, you think there’s no way you can survive for the next 24-hours. You feel completely and utterly overwhelmed. Don’t try. Just take the next 5 minutes and breathe deeply and slowly and think to yourself, “I can survive the next 5 minutes.”

Sometimes, you are held captive by your fears telling you that you’ve really messed it up this time and that friend is gone for good. It’s tempting to try and fix what really isn’t broken (which never works, by the way). Or you take the next 5 minutes and are able to start seeing the cracks in the fabric of that lie.

You can do anything for 5 minutes. You can pray or be silent or wait. You can breathe slowly and deeply. You can remember one blessing God has given you and dwell on that.

When I’m stressed out and can’t sleep, 5 minutes of meditating on the goodness of God can make all the difference. It can take me from almost falling back into my old approval-addiction, “nobody likes me” trap to remembering that I am still blessed with family and friends who surprise me all the time in unexpected ways with grace at every turn.

So set your stopwatch or your phone for 5 minutes. It may be a small start, but sometimes all Jesus needs in your life is the smallest place to start. Then He can do amazing things in your life.

I am living proof of that.