Learning [the Hard Way]

I love that life is a journey. That I have the opportunity and ability to grow, to change, to become.

Of course, in that journey, not all change is good change, when our choices cause us to change for the worse.

In what I consider my last season of life, I didn't really care about my choices. My unspoken motto was, "I do what I want." I still struggle with that attitude, but I'm learning to harness it for good. And make better choices.

Ever since I was a teenager, one of my mom's most-repeated adages was, "Make good choices." The funny thing about being headstrong is, you can hear something all day, but not do it. Just like the band dc Talk used to sing, "Some people gotta learn the hard way..."

And so it was for me. I did what I wanted when I wanted, and it wasn't always good. In fact, a lot of times what I did wasn't beneficial.

I think we all struggle with this. Either we decide we want to experience life, whatever the cost, or we have something in mind that we want, and we'll do whatever we have to to get it.

I believe the latter attitude is a spawning ground for bad choices, especially when it comes to relationships. People want relationships, to date and marry, and some will sacrifice much just so they won't be alone. When you are blinded by the end goal, it's difficult to see the reality around you.

I've learned this in a lot of relationships; people can and will drain the life out of you, if you allow them to. Through words, actions, attitudes, they can drag you down like a rusted anchor to a place you never want to go.

Thank the Lord that he saves us from our bad choices when we can't get ourselves out.

The reality about so many of these leeching relationships is that we think we want them so badly. But after they end and the heartbreak fades, we can begin to see why they were so wrong. This person didn't bring peace, they only wanted to fight. This person didn't love, they lusted. This person wasn't seeking good, they were seeking personal gratification. This person didn't encourage, they injured.

The list can go on, and I'm sure every person can add to it. Whether friendship or romantic relationship, most of us have experienced it. On the outside, looking back at past failed relationships, there are a few concepts I come away with.

First, I want the ability to see these relationships a mile away, and avoid them at all cost. And really, it's not that hard to tell when someone is a leech. If they're not encouraging you toward Christ, they're only going to pull you away. So don't entertain it before it starts. Make a good choice, and don't get involved.

Second, I want the ability to recognize if I am in a disastrous friendship/relationship, and have the courage to get out of it as soon as possible. I feel like this is the hardest point, and one at which most people fail because of that fear of loneliness. This is the point that calls for the most resolve and determination. And the understanding that, though it may hurt for a time, you will be so much better off outside the relationship.

Finally, I want to be able to encourage others toward positive friendships and relationships, and away from destructive ones. Loving confrontation is a whole other blog entry, but is so essential. If you don't love your friends enough to encourage them toward Christ, then you are not a true friend. Part of that includes encouraging them toward right living, and making good choices.

Yes, some of us choose to learn the hard way. (And bad choices extend to more than just relationships.) But if we truly are learning the hard way, we won't keep repeating the same mistakes. We'll learn, grow, change for the better. We'll strive for Christ, and let him guide us to the life he wants us to live. And trust me, it's better than any life we could attempt to construct for ourselves.

In Remembrance

Taking communion at church has always been a somber and serious experience for me, though no less amazing in what it calls me to remember.

From a very young age, I was taught that it was a time to quietly pray, to remember Jesus' sacrifice, and to ask for forgiveness for my sins. It was a serious time, not to be taken lightly.

As I grew older, I always worked hard to keep the correct mind-set while taking communion. I didn't want it to become a ritual, a time that I merely went through the motions.

Communion has always been a time for me to search my heart and confess what I have done wrong, in thought and deed. Though lately, I had found myself asking for forgiveness multiple times for the same offense.

This past Sunday was no different, although this time, I caught myself. If I ask for forgiveness for the same sin multiple times, doesn't that mean I don't think it was forgiven the first time?

This thought was something of a slap in the face. Did I really think that God wasn't forgiving me, even though I knew that the Bible stated time and time again that God does forgive us? I realized that to continually ask God to forgive me for something he had already forgotten was on par with saying that God wasn't forgiving at all.

It was in that moment that I knew I had to let it go. If I really believed that God forgave me each time I asked, then I only needed to ask once. Jesus died once, a sacrifice for every sin ever committed. His blood was spilled one time, to wash away all sin. Once is all it takes for God to forgive and forget because of Jesus' sacrifice. Not two times or five or ten. He doesn't need our continual groveling or attempts at mending the wrong.

So I resolved to ask for forgiveness just once when I committed a sin. I resolved to truly believe the reality of God's love and Jesus' sacrifice. And I resolved to allow the freedom of grace to overshadow residual guilt.

What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. Romans 6:1-4

Live First, Write Later

In case you hadn't noticed, I periodically like to change the name and heading of my blog. It sets the mood and tone, which does change from time to time, depending on what's being written.

I chose this current heading because it indicates that life, my story, isn't written here in a futuristic sense. I'm not writing what I want to happen, or coming up with my own story line. What is written here is being written after being lived, after it has already happened. After it has been written by Someone else.

I think at some point, we all get this idea in our minds that we can "write" our life. That if we live here, go to school there, do this and become that, eventually, the story we want will unfold. If we envision it, and complete the necessary steps, what we want for our lives will happen.

I started learning from a very early age that this is not the case; but I didn't really learn it until after college.

My efforts at trying to write life, to make it the way I wanted, started when I was probably two or three years old. The one thing I wanted more than anything was a younger sibling, and the sooner the better. After praying for nine or 10 years and not getting one, I had pretty much given up. That's when God gave us Michael, a reminder to me that prayers are answered, but not in our timing.

Around that same time, I was still trying to write life, just another chapter. This time, it was everything that I wanted to unfold through middle school and high school. It included friendships, basketball, relationships, and my living location. Of course, the fact that my family might move across the country never entered the equation. When it happened, though, it threw a kink in all my planning.

Toward the end of high school, I started trying to write life again. I had found out that I was accepted to the only college I had applied to. I, of course, immediately started envisioning how I wanted everything to be, how I thought things would unfold. I can honestly say, none of it happened.

After college, I got a little better about trying to take control, mostly because the past four years had been something of a let-down. But I did make one final attempt when I decided to move to Denver, hoping that what I wanted would happen. It didn't, obviously, and truthfully, it went entirely opposite of anything I had thought of.

Through it all I've learned that what we want really doesn't matter that much. It may sound harsh, but I can say it because over 20-some years, I've learned that firsthand. It's not about me, or you, or how we think life should go. Our wants and plans are usually selfish, and rarely are they the best thing for us, or anyone else.

Sure, I thought that my version of life was pretty near perfect, but I didn't take into account that there are billions of other people with stories too. I didn't take into account that my story would intersect with someone else's story, and that their needs were just as--if not more--important than mine. And I didn't take into account that God's plan was bigger, and far more important than any plan I could conjure up.

So life now, isn't being written by me. Or at least, I'm working very hard at not attempting to write life. I'm working more on being available for the needs of others. I'm working on learning what I need to learn to become the person God wants me to me. I'm working on being willing to participate in God's plan, however that might be.

In losing my job, I've been given the opportunity to completely let go and wait for God to put me where he wants. Already there have been some huge changes, but they have been so good and have brought such peace. I can't wait to see where else God will move, and how the story will be written.

Experiencing the Unavoidable

Oh life, how quickly it darts by, leaving me standing here to think about how old I feel.

This week, my alma mater, Moody Bible Institute, is celebrating its 125th anniversary of existence. All those years ago in 1886, D.L. Moody prayed about an institution that started small, but now equips people from all across the globe for ministry.

I don't really want to tout its greatness, because it's just another place of learning. But this anniversary does make me think back to a time when I was a student within its walls, thinking I would never make it to graduation. After all, it was such a long way off back then.

Those years were so easy, and yet so hard. It was easy to live, to love, to get into trouble and to make mistakes. It was hard to keep up with the course load, to not ditch studying for friends, to remember to keep my own faith alive. I grew up, experienced life and changed so much, I barely recognize the person I was all those years ago when I first enrolled.

I can't believe now that this May will mark the third year that has passed since my graduation. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm not the carefree college student anymore. Oh adulthood, weren't you supposed to wait a few more years to strike?

Now I have the slightly scary pleasure of watching younger people suddenly becoming those carefree college kids. I keep finding myself thinking, "You're in high school now?" Or, "How did he get to be a teenager?" (Namely, my brother who recently turned 13.)

My brother is probably my most consistent reminder that I'm not the kid I sometimes feel like. He was adopted when I was 12 and in seventh grade, a year I remember so well and a time I loved so much. Life was so fresh and new, every feeling was amplified a million times over because most of them had never been felt before. It was an awkward time, but so exciting as well.

Now my brother is in seventh grade, a not-so-subtle reminder that the time of his adoption is in the past, significantly. And I'm no longer the slightly awkward, nerdy pre-teen struggling to make sense of raging hormones. Thank goodness, I suppose?

Sometimes getting to the point of being "grown up" (not necessarily acting that way, just being there) isn't as great as we once thought it would be. Sure, we trade in childhood naivete for grown-up common sense, but sometimes I wish I didn't know everything I knew now. Some of life's experiences, I could've lived without.

Now I look at the kids around me, and sort of wish I could spare them that "Welcome to the real world!" slap in the face. That they could be spared from some of the events and circumstances that come with "growing up." Then reality sets in, and I must remind myself that that's impossible. You'd have to hold them prisoner in an empty room for their entire lives, which really isn't an option.

So my conclusion is, growing up and experiencing life is unavoidable. An obvious conclusion to make, no doubt, but one that should remind us to live in the present. There's nothing we can ever do to change the circumstances around us that we can't control, including time and its rather rapid passage. This is yet another element of life that must be accepted with grace and dignity. And that which can be controlled (our own thoughts and actions), should be done so with love and compassion.