Carbon Copy

I've never viewed myself as similar to my dad. He hates his job, but chooses to be there. Doesn't resolve relationship issues and internalized his hurt, anger, stress, etc. He seems to like going to the doctor. He's Mediterranean; I'm Caribbean. Wine for him; I'd rather have a beer.

But the more I learn, the more similarities I unearth. Both our tendencies are to retreat emotionally. We've both ceded control of similar household responsibilities to our wives. Neither of us knows his father.

I'm trying to reorient that last one. As I've mentioned earlier, I think much of my marriage dysfunction stems from my relationship with my dad. What is utterly amazing to me is how I have (unconsciously? subconsciously? comfortable?) replicated the same family system he has had.

My sister was a quadriplegic. She had a diving accident at age 14. Before that she had a rare blood disorder. Lots and lots of hospital time. Surgeries. Attention. She was the impetus for our move to Florida from Massachusetts. Her illnesses, through no fault of hers, defined our family. Because of her great need, my mom became her advocate and caregiver. In fact, they became inseparable. We used to joke about it. They were over bonded. My sister became my mom's world (maybe there's a hint in there regarding the source of my focus on performance. Need for attention, anyone?)

Whether he chose it because he felt it was his role or because he felt shut out of the family, my dad threw himself into work. In fact, work has defined him. That's why retirement has been such a tough decision for him (although it seems to me like a no-brainer). What else has he known since 14?

Anyway, that is my family of origin system. And it is the one I created. My wife and I have one daughter. She's a miracle. Five years worth of trying, disappointment, and being told it was impossible. (Don't ever let someone tell you the fun is in the trying. It's not.)

So my wife has defined herself through motherhood. That's her primary relationship. Whether I chose this because of passion or because I felt shut out (or maybe a little of both), I threw myself into my ministry. It's how I defined myself and my relationship with God. It was my first lover.

Now don't those pictures look similar. Frighteningly so. Like if our lives were printed on transparencies (remember those?) and placed over each other, they would be an almost perfect match. And I don't want it to carry on to my daughter's marriage. The cycle is going to stop with me. And one of the roots is my relationship with dad.

I need to give my wife the picture of manhood and strength. Loosening the bond with my mom that formed in the vacuum and strengthen the one with my dad. Then my wife will have the room (if she chooses) to be feminine. The role of woman that God intended. To be my wife first. To achieve balance in our marriage and unburden herself from some of the things she's felt the need to take on.

Sounds so simple to change a family system. Change one part and the entire thing changes. I'm guessing it will get very hard. There is already push back. It's uncomfortable to leave what you've know (even if it is unhealthy) and let a new normal be defined. Hopefully, when the dust settles, my daughter will get the picture of a marriage that honors God and is structured in the way He intended. One that builds up both spouses. One in which each other's needs are important and being met. One in which love is natural.

With the freedom and security that come along with health and appropriate roles. Lessons she's be able to carry on to her own relationship. Not only her relationship with her husband, but also the implications it will have on her relationship with Christ and her understanding the imagery of the marriage between Christ and His church.

Pain, Pain Go Away

It is surprising what a motivating factor the pain in our lives is. Makes sense when you are talking about touching a hot stove burner. There's motivation. But it is emotionally surprising - at least to me. Anyone reading this has probably heard the proverb (not biblical) "change happens when the pain of changing is less than the pain of staying the same." Seems just about every pastor can throw that one out there, me included.

In my folly (what one friend has described as going postal), I had convinced myself this would be true in my own life. That the pain of having an affair would be less than the pain of staying in a dysfunctional marriage (a marriage, by the way, that was my responsibility). Sure seemed like that could be true on the front end, but my daughter, ministry and wife would tell you a different story.

If you are reading this and are will to listen, here is an urgent word of caution: don't make any decisions on your own while you are hurting; pain will make you do stupid, ridiculous, irrational things that will be incomprehensible to your mind when the hurt is over.

Here is what I lost sight of, and I think I've regained proper perspective; My 'pain' now comes from wanting to be like Christ. Despite my circumstances, this should have been my sole vantage point all along. God has saved me and clothed me with righteousness. Knowing that Christ died so God the Father would view me that way should grieve me. I am the worst. Paul say he was chief among sinners, but I think I'd give him a good run for his money (there you go, I'm willing to place a bet with Paul, sinner!). Being a sinner who is, nonetheless, saved hurts.

Hurts so good, as John (Cougar?) Mellencamp would say, because that pain is driving me to strive for Christlikeness. Staying the same before God hurts worse than staying the same, at least it should when you measure the cost to Him. It's working out my salvation. I'm a slow learner, but I think I've caught on to this.

The pain I should feel most in my life should not come from my worldly circumstances, but from not being like Christ in front of a hold God.

That, and that reason alone, is how I will be able to be a better disciple, better husband, better father, better friend, and even a better pastor - if given the opportunity.

Right now I am an instructor of mathematics at a university. (A new colleague at church recently said, when he learned of my background, "Oh, so you're really smart then." Yes, I fake it well.) Even worse than being called to something by God and not yet getting there, is having done the thing God specifically created you to do and then going backwards. It's like having been in St. Lucia one day, then finding yourself in Newark, New Jersey the next. Total letdown.

This past weekend, I was talking with a friend about calling, telling her that, whether she believed it or not, my calling form God had not dissipated - in fact it was more intense now than ever. She responded that we are all sinful, and that sin doesn't change our calling. My addition to that statement would be only that a lack of repentance makes our calling ineffectual.

I've been told by several people, at various moments in this process, that I'm still a pastor. Despite a vivid 'second calling' right after my Miracle, it's only in the last few months that I've dared to believe it. It comes from a new understanding through experience of the depths of God's love and grace.

With God all things are possible. A fallen pastor restored is not out of the question. David was restored. Peter was too. And like them, I don't want to ever lose the pain that drives me toward Christ.

The Shield

Have you ever heard anyone say that the safest place to be is in the center of God's will? As if life were a giant category 5 hurricane, and if you can just manage to stay in the eye your life will be calm with pleasant weather. That's a dumb saying. Unless you mean eternally, like you'll end up in His presence in heaven, and you are referring to the safety and security you have in that promise. But that is not what the implication usually is. It is a fool hardy belief that nothing bad can or should happen to you if you are where God wants you.

But then there is Peter. Following Jesus. Satan wanted to sift him like wheat. And God consented! Does not sound very safe to me.

Some may say that in his denial Peter stepped out of God's will. Maybe. But couldn't it also be true that is exactly where God wanted him? It is certainly possible that dealing with the aftermath of that decision is where God needed Peter. As Peter ran out of the courtyard, left the warmth of the fire, think of the things he was forced to confront in his isolation. Arrogance, pride, self-reliance - sounds like Peter has some root sin issues to confront.

Would Peter have been the man who was to lead the church, handling the keys of the kingdom, without this incident? My guess is no, or else why did God allow it?

Thing is, Jesus knew beforehand what was going to happen. He told Peter about it. Told Peter to watch and pray. Described the scene to Peter before the day arrived. What Jesus did not do was shield Peter from it. Whether your theology is God caused this event or that Peter chose this event, Jesus knew and He allowed Peter to experience the full consequences of his root sin. It was the only way, apparently, to break him.

I have the opposite tendency in my relationships. Quite often I will shield people from the consequences of their sinning against me. Won't own up to my hurt. Will 'forgive' before there is resolution or an apology has even been offered. I take on blame that is not my due. Even now, well advanced in my journey toward strength, I still make this my comfort zone. Particularly with my wife.

There is such a tension in this. My job is to build her up. Letting her experience the consequences feels like tearing down. (Maybe the question to ask is - what are healthy, differentiated consequences? Good question.) But shielding her from being upset, allowing her to not share in the hurt of experience relational consequences - is that building her up or keeping her from experiencing what God needs her to in order for Him to change her? How will she overcome her anxiety reducing strategies if there is no anxiety?

Christ could have intervened and protected Peter from the pain of his denial. Rather than building up, that would have been puffing up. Something fake. Looks good on the outside, but is empty on the inside. Where would Peter have ended up then? Puffed up things pop.

What happened to Peter was not done vindictively or out of spite. It was not an effort to manipulate. Rather, Christ differentiated himself so Peter would feel the natural consequences of his sin against Jesus. It was for his good.

I need to be strong and let God do the same in my marriage. I am to love and protect my wife, but that doesn't mean that I am to be her shield. Her shield, according to Ephesians, is to be her faith, that God may be trying to refine by fire.

This is maybe the hardest step I have had to take yet in my journey. Not even sure I know in what direction to take the step. But I am choosing to trust God and I love her enough to do it.

Just like Jesus.

Shine On

A few days ago, I received the unsolicited comment from a friend, who is very familiar with my journey, that the Holy Spirit is shining through me on my journey. I have to say that the comment was hard to receive. Being me, living this life, and being immersed in this spiritual battle, I have a hard time seeing it. Call it humility, stupidity, or lack of perception - but I have trouble gauging the magnitude of the change that I've gone through so far.

What I can say is that, if someone is seeing the Holy Spirit shining, it is an answer to a prayer that I developed early on in my renewed journey. It goes something like this:

God, whatever you have planned for me, I want your light to shine through me.
Not as a Christmas tree where you can see pretty lights attached to a tree, but
as a light that consumes me and I'm not identifiable beneath. All I want anyone
to see is you. Amen.

A rather ambitious request, especially when you see it written. One only to be achieved through the working of the Spirit. Which at least one person sees shining through me. Hopefully not an anomaly.

Recently I read this statement by John Wesley, and while I don't embrace much of his doctrine, I do enjoy the sentiment. I hope I'm able to submit myself to God in the same way:

Each morning I light myself on fire, then I go out and let the world watch me
burn.

It's all for Jesus. Amen.

Spiritual Retreat, Day 1

The university that I work at had the foresight to plan my summer break for the time my wife and daughter went back to school. Since I am alone for the week, before I tackled the weeds in my yard, I planned a personal two day retreat. There are several retreat centers nearby, so I picked one and headed out with a change of underwear, my Bible and a notebook. (Probably, that is an accurate ordering for the level of importance, too.)

Two things have become apparent to me:

First, I am addicted to media. There are no TV's here (which is why I picked a retreat center over a resort), no computer, no books, no wii, just a lake and this desk I'm sitting at. During the day, this was no problem. Hiking and kayaking are fun and conducive to prayer and meditation. but when evening came, I kept looking for a remote control. I JUST NEED ONE SEINFELD CLIP TO GET THROUGH! None could be found, and that is a good thing. But I was distressed at the media DDT's that I experienced in my room.

Second thing I realized is that I'm trying to be the Holy Spirit. Pretty sure this is not a new realization, but it was one that really 'sunk in' as I was reading this passage in one of the two Bibles I brought (yes, I'm super duper spiritual and brought 2 Bibles):

But the house of Israel is not willing to listen to you because they are not willing to listen to me. Ezekiel 3:7a

Basically God is saying "Don't take it personally, I'm the one that matters and they won't listen to me either." Ezekiel's responsibility was not to make them obey, he just had to deliver the message.

It is the same for me in my marriage. Things are different and I want the system to change. It really needs to change, but I am not responsible for my wife respecting me, following me or even knowing who I am. My responsibility is to pursue God. Allow him to work in me and be obedient to my calling. I cannot attempt to play the part of the Holy Spirit too.

My wife struggles. Because of her family of origin issues, she has an inherent though time trusting, submitting, or respecting me as her husband. It often feels like she doesn't want to be married, although in my mind I know that is not the truth. Yet for her, the issue is bigger than marriage. She struggles in these same areas with God.

* Disclaimer - Often I mention other people I have relationships with in this blog. In no way is this to appear as a judgment against them. God knows that AS A PASTOR, I've had a tough enough time sorting out my own spiritual life and issues. This blog is about me and my journey and any mention of wife, mom, dad, friends, or anyone else is strictly for purposes of defining my journey for you, the reader.

My wife's journey is her own. While our marriage does cause our voyages to intersect significantly, I am not responsible for her response to God. My wheels could spin 1,000,000 rpm but I could still not do the work of the Holy Spirit. God takes responsibility for His own work.

This internalization is a relief. It focuses my efforts on being the best disciple and husband I can be. It doesn't take away the loneliness or the hurt I feel at times or the desire for her to meet me where I am, but it is freeing not to strive; to shoulder a responsibility that is not mine.

My hope is that this internalization from retreat day one will translate in a visible way. I've been struggling mightily with my non-anxious responses. Particularly a couple days ago when my attempt to set an emotional boundary slipped away like a greased pig.

A friend of mine told me that his wife has recently noted how his responses to stresses have changed. It gives her comfort and security to see him respond in a non-anxious way to his work related stresses. I can't wait for the day when my wife will note the same thing about me. As I stop trying to be the Holy Spirit and instead focus on following Christ in all situations, acting on my anger in healthy ways.

Thank you God for day one of this retreat. I'm still not looking forward to the weeds.

It's in the Suffix

My root sin is pride. One of the ways that this sin entangles me is through a fear of being a disappoint-ment. It seems so ironic that not wanting to feel like a disappoint-ment had a part to play in disappoint-ing everyone who knew me.

For some time I've felt like a disappoint-ment to my wife. If she's not going to follow me or respect me, then it must be because I have not met her expectations. I'm a disappoint-ment. So, when you throw people pleasing into this cruel cocktail that is my personality, you get someone who is going to work harder and harder to win the approval of this most significant relationship.

In my pride, I thought success and happiness rested squarely on my shoulders. And I was failing. My wife and I were farther apart than ever.

That takes us to the irony. I never wanted to be the American pastoral cliche. Said that would never happen to me (careful how you use the word 'never', just be on your guard). But someone came along who enjoyed me. Sought out time with me. Respected what I did and told me how good I was at it. My pride at it up. The things I wanted desperately from my wife were coming from someone else. My heart wasn't prepared for it. Success was defined by performance, and to this woman I was performing well.

I became a disappoint-ment.

Or so I thought.

Even after the change God has worked throughout the fabric of my being, even after the miracle, even after so much of my Wall has been deconstructed, I was still stuck feeling like a disappoint-ment.

It was east to retreat to this place when still so many people defined me by my sin. No being witness to the work and change. After all this time, change, and retooling by God - some still viewed me through the lens of failure. So that's how I allowed myself to view me. (That is the worst wording ever. That's what you get from a blog, I guess. Hope the point comes through.)

I was reading Mark 14 some time ago. After Jesus predicted Peter's denial, He invited Peter along to pray. Pretty intense moment and He still brought Peter along. Jesus knew it was intense; the disciples not so much, they couldn't stay awake. When Jesus returned to them He says "Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for an hour?"

Even after telling him to watch and pray so he'd be ready for the upcoming temptation, Peter falls asleep. Again. Disappoint-ing. But not a disappoint-ment. It occurred to me...Jesus knew. When Jesus picked his disciples, He knew their weaknesses. Predicting Peter's denial evidenced that He know what was about to take place. While these events were disappoint-ing, Peter was not a disappoint-ment. Jesus knew.

He knew the events in Peter's life that He would have to use for Peter's good. This was not a shock. I would only be a disappoint-ment if Peter's life was defined by his failure.

And the same is true for me.

Regardless of what anyone else thinks, to the One who matters - who created me, loves me, died for me, called me - to Him I am not a disappoint-ment. In fact, the only way I could be is if I let this event in my life define who I was. Rather than letting the forgiveness, mercy, and grace of Christ be the basis for my life.

I admit that it is hard to understand how God would knowingly use this. But He is. It's disappoint-ing, but it will not forever define me. I am not typecast. The change that God brings about will be what defines me.

There is no way I'll find that disappoint-ing.

Generation to Generation

Here is a fact for you. I really don't know my dad. We see each other regularly and we chat. We go out to dinner and he'll even take me golfing anytime that I want. Both of us, I think, genuinely desire to spend time with each other, but once we are together we don't really know what to do. Sports talk will only last so long and then I have the same list of questions that I'll ask him every time. Our relationship has never developed closeness. My dad is not someone who I would seek advice from or share the intimate details with.

In fact, I realized recently that my dad and I frequently don't talk TO each other. We use my mom as a conduit of communication. I'll get a call from mom, "Your father wants to know if you can go golfing next weekend." Just as guilty am I ask I'll ask mom "Has dad decided if he's going to retire next year?" Both of us have cell phones and email, yet we rarely use them to communicate with each other.

I'm being a little misleading when I say I just realized this. The blockage in my relationship with my dad has always been something that I've noticed. It's just that it has always been this way. There's balance. Why rock the boat? And sometimes the thought of addressing him on a deeper level has created almost a feeling of fear in me. It's almost like handling a log that is on fire - you can't wait to put it down.

I'll never forget the time I broached a conversation with him about his relationship with Jesus. It's not that I'm ashamed to talk about Jesus. Quite the opposite. Yet, it took such a force of will to begin the conversation, that when he affirmed my couple of weak questions, I very gratefully let the conversation turn to what he shot at golf last week.

As I dig deeper into myself and my marriage, the thing that I have come to realize that this issue is not unrelated to how I behave as a husband, father, friend, and pastor. In fact, the relational patterns that my family of origin has are directly related to the one that I have inadvertently created in my own home. It's a generational pattern. Patterns that are part of the family history reaching back many generations. A way of behavior and of relating to others that most are not even consciously aware of. My eyes are just now becoming open to the affect generational patterns have on all of our relationships.

In what appears on the surface to be a very counterproductive and unrelated move, I realized that improving my marriage (and future pastoral skills) requires that I untangle the mess that is my relationship with my dad (and my mom). Change in me is changing (or has the potential to change) others as well, without their even realizing it.

This knowledge has given me confidence. So, I initiated a conversation with my dad. Asked him to drive me to church. He didn't attend, but in the 20 minute ride (we'll start small) I just asked him about his dad. Were they close? Was he a good parent? What was his life like as he grew up?

Turns out my dad and his dad were not close at all. They rarely talked. He was always sick. My dad, being the oldest, started working at 14 to help support a large family. I got a story about the first family car that my dad fixed up (at 14! I was proud of myself today for installing a new oil cap, and I'm 38). Brothers chasing sisters around. Brothers getting the belt on their behind.

Guess I gained some perspective on why my dad and I are not close. It's what he knows. I understand why my dad put such a high value on providing for me over relating to me, it was how he was assigned value in his family. Clearly, my journey to strength requires that I balance my relationships with my parents and place more emphasis on developing one with my dad. Of course, it will affect my mom - but I'll be prepared. The reality is that changing that one relationship will change all the others I have. Hopefully for the better.

This first step was brief. But it was a start. I want to know my dad. It's a little late now, he's in bed. But tomorrow I'm going to call my dad.

Baby Got a Big Ole But

After I had officially gone crazy, confessed to my wife, and sent a resignation letter to my supervisor, I did not lack for people who had an opinion to give me. The spectrum ranged from the woman from my church who confessed that she and her husband belonged to a group that believed monogamy was not God's plan for men at one end all the way to a close friend who reminded me how good I was counseling people and asked me what I would say to me. (I still hate THAT advice.)

Many people who offer you their sage words of wisdom are those whose advice/opinion you would never seek. Yet, words are free and many people cannot give out enough of them. One theme was pretty much universal (with the exception noted above), I could find no one who would agree with me that what I was doing was OK and justified.

To pretty much anyone who would listen, I would state my side of the case. I had my presentation down pat and could deliver it with passion. Problem was, nobody was convinced. In fact, the routine I was giving was not what anyone was looking for. Rather than repentance, I was giving defiance.

Instead of asking for forgiveness, I was making excuses.

It wasn't so much agreement I was looking for; I wanted to be excused. I wanted people to listen to the uniqueness of my circumstances and give me a pass. Like God had not realized situations like mine would happen. Please, someone, anyone, tell me this is not my fault.

The advice of my close friend was so painful because I remember person after person sitting in my office making their excuses. Either wanting their own way or asking for forgiveness in a way that is really having someone accept their excuses. I'm sure you've heard this too. Or maybe even you are doing it yourself..."Dear God, I am sorry that I did X, but..." The excuse follows the 'but'. And some of us have big ole buts. Oh yeah. But I digress, that is a matter for another day.

Asking forgiveness is not making excuses. It is owning up to our wrong. Minus the 'but'. Repentance means turning away from, making things as right as possible. Taking responsibility for your end. Probably all stuff you know; I knew it. But living it is a lot tougher than just knowing it.

I lived in my excuses for some time. They fed my anger and helped to justify my behavior. It was hard to swim upstream. Took a whole lot of emotional energy. Alienated almost everyone around me. It wasn't until The Miracle that I got the full view of what I was doing.

I really wasn't aware at the time of my miracle how deep I was going to be digging. That the sin God was referring to went way beyond my going off the deep end with another woman. Yet, in that moment I made the commitment to stop making excuses. Not that I don't still struggle with the size of my 'but'... That day was my first step on the journey toward strength. I stopped withdrawing and hiding behind my excuses, and took responsibility for my own actions.

Change in my family system is up to me, no ifs, ands, or buts.

Well Versed

I have always wanted to have a life verse. You know, a verse that you can pull out at a moments notice and describe to whoever you are talking to its meaning for your life and your future direction. In the past, if I was at a conference listening to a speaker, reading a book, or just talking with a fellow combatant in ministry and they mentioned their life verse, I'd get this feeling of envy. Where's mine? Apparently in seminary there must be a course that I did not take where you scour the Bible for just that perfect verse; or so it would have seemed.

For the first two weeks in August, I had the privilege of being the guest speaker at my church. In fact, for the first time I had my own series. It was great fun and a new challenge not just in hearing from God and creating messages, but in making sure the series had a flow too. While preparing the message for the first week, I came across my life verse. It has resounded with me ever since.

I delight greatly in the Lord;
my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
- Isaiah 61:10

One of my habits each morning has become to wake up early and go for a walk in order to pray and meditate on a verse. (I've found that kneeling induces sleep, so I must keep moving.) In the dark and quiet of the morning God speaks very clearly to me and I usually take time to journal my thoughts later in the morning. Keeping in mind that I am not a professional theologian, I wanted to share a couple of my thoughts on this verse and why it has become my life verse.

For me, the first two lines set the tone. Delight and rejoicing. Within the hallowed halls of this blog, I have expressed my desire to be one who delights in God in all circumstances. In fact, I think that is why God has my life in one giant time out, in order for me to delight in him now. If I can delight in Him while I am lonely, unfulfilled at work, and learning the ropes of marriage all over again, then I will know that in the future it is not the fact that things are going my way that is allowing me to delight in God.

It also strikes me how the speaker uses the preposition 'in' within both the first lines. Not delight around the Lord, not while thinking about God - but firmly planted 'in'. That wording alone takes me to one of my favorite teachings of Jesus in John 15. "Remain in me" and "Remain in my love," Jesus says in the John 15 passage.

There was a video game when I was a kid, don't remember the name, but it had to do with landing a spaceship on the moon. In the corner of the screen, you had to keep a dot centered in a circle in order to land safely. If the dot left the center region, doom followed. Jesus is the target and our soul is to remain fix in Him.

The Isaiah verse speaks to me as a life verse because it states (but does not overstate) the reason for the delight. The salvation and righteousness that God has clothed me with. Both of those things I could not provide for myself, though I often try. God has made me beautiful, not because I earned it, but because He loves me; hence the imagery in the last two lines. The bride and groom on their special day, holding nothing back from making themselves look beautiful for the impending spouse. While I did not nor could not make myself look like that before God, He took the initiative to dress me up. Christ became sin for me so that I could be righteous.

God doesn't love me because I am beautiful, I am beautiful because He loves me.

It is so simple, right? We delight and rejoice over our salvation and righteousness. That's it. Not anything else. In fact, it is when we lose sight of these two things and try to make it about any other factors, that is when we are no longer 'in' Him. Whatever other accouterments we try to add onto salvation and righteousness diminish what God has done rather than making it better.

Delighting in Him means constantly living in the fact that God did for me what I could never do for myself. Out of my delight, fruit will flow. My life verse is going to help me live in that simplicity.

Do Not Be Anxious About Anything

I want to lead my family through this season of reinvention. On the other side, I hope that ours is a family in which we can all flourish; pursuing God with an unashamed, reckless abandon while at the same time experiencing the love that we have for each other. My hope is that our family system will become a robust and fertile soil for all of us to grow in.

Quite some time ago, I identified that the change would have to start with me. Several reasons come to mind, not the least of which is that I am the man, the head of this family that God has entrusted to me. Although, probably even more important is that I am a willing pursuant of relational change.

My wife has accused me of enjoying counseling. That for me it assumes almost a recreational quality. I do admit that she is pretty much right. It's not enjoyment in a codependent way - like I couldn't function if I didn't have my weekly session - but in that I have felt a freedom in learning about myself and coming to understand who I really am. No mask, no pretending, it's just me. This journey I am on is an exhilarating adventure. Change in me cannot come fast enough.

To her credit, my wife has been honest to admit that she is a less willing participant. It is something that I try to understand - God has wired her differently and she also has more hidden and painful things to overcome. Yet, even if she were to be taken out of the equation, my marriage is different because I am different.

The change in me changes our system. Change in me will induce change in my wife (changing her is NOT to be my motivation, but the fruit of the change I am pursuing in myself - that is the problem most popular marriage books invert). Hopefully that change in her will be positive. The resulting healthy dynamic between us will, in turn, induce healthy change in our daughter as she develops.

It would be a wonderful thing if there was some direct, linear relationship among my change, change in my wife and improvement in our marriage. Yet, frustratingly, I find at times the opposite to be true. Change seems to have the effect of making things tougher.

Of late, some of my wife's compulsions (her way of ordering her world through her severe anxiety) have seemed to increase. (Here I do want to pause to say two quick things: 1. In no way am I intending this as a bash of my wife, just a description of our system and 2. My wife is changing, I am just pointing out that the process is different for her.) Some of this has created the feeling in me that things are slowly returning to where they were before - a situation that neither of us found satisfactory. All that to say: I am at times drawn to relational anxiety. Especially when things feel all too familiar.

Yet the most effective way for the change in me to have influence is for me to be a non-anxious responder. I cannot allow my anxiety to lead to an emotional response or cause me to retreat to a more undifferentiated state. Yet, differentiate does not mean withdraw, which I tend to struggle with anyway. So as I respond to my wife's anxiety, as she spirals downward, my goal is to attempt to be non-anxious and present. A task that is tough for me.

But, that is another component of my journey toward strength.

Being non-anxious and present will naturally communicate my true desires - that I want our marriage to work. Nay, not just work, but to thrive. Filled with joy, love, passion, affection, intimacy and acceptance. It will communicate that, no matter how slow the change or how she struggles to overcome, I am not going anywhere. Hopefully though my acceptance and love, she'll be led to understand Christ's love for her better.

That is the picture of strength I want her most to see.

A Bit of New Vocabulary

It's funny how a single word can have mutually exclusive meanings. Take the word 'differentiation' as an example. In the realm of mathematics, where I first learned and got comfortable with this word, differentiation is the process of determining the rate of change of certain equations. For instance, if you know the equation describing the position of an object relative to time, then when you differentiate this equation you have the rate of change of the position or in other words the velocity.

There you go, a free physics lesson on this pastoral blog. What other pastor do you know that can pull that one off?

It is quite handy to have a vocabulary to correlate with what you are learning about yourself. Lately I have been running across lots of new words to describe aspects of the dynamics in a relational system. Just so happens that 'differentiation' is among them, and also happens to be the most apropos to my current season of life.

I remember as a kid watching a Sunday night movie about Helen Keller. It was one of those things you had to endure as a kid, like watching Little House on the Prairie. The particular scene that I can recall is the moment that Helen puts together the symbols for W-A-T-E-R that her tutor was signing into her hand as the fresh, cold substance was poured on her face. Once she got it, she wanted to know the words for everything. Having a vocabulary and a way to communicate is a very liberating. To a much lesser degree, I feel that same sense of liberation.

It's all about the lingo. Back to the 'differentiation'...the basic concept relationally is distinguishing yourself from other members of the system. As is was explained to me by a friend, it is having the ability to think "you are over there and I am over here, your emotional response is separate from my own." I'm hoping to avoid getting to technical (I've already had a paragraph about math!), so I hope that explanation does the trick.

For me, a rather large component of the journey toward relational strength that I am on is this idea of being able to differentiate myself. A pattern that I have noticed is that the closer a relationship gets to me, the more undifferentiated I become. Some of the ways this manifests itself in my relationships is by people-pleasing, seeking abundant affirmation, inability to say 'no', taking the onus of responsibility in relationships - especially for communicating and planning.

Being able to understand that I have grown and developed in an environment that fostered a performance equals extra love mindset. That helps to explain my need for affirmation and approval. Well, let me rephrase that, because I think at some level, everyone needs that. There is nothing wrong with being affirmed or in wanting that. The problem is when that become THE concern in a relationship and the preponderance of actions are directed at how to receive more.

Hence the people-pleasing. But it goes even deeper. Because of the equation performance = love, if someone disagrees with me or expresses disapproval for an action, though, performance, etc., it feels like love is being withdrawn. Think of how unstable that would make a relationship seem if that became your perception. If you and your spouse disagreed on the gas mileage the car was getting and it felt like more than disagreement, what if it felt like rejection and having love withdrawn?

That's been the source of my passivity and hence my undifferentiation. Anything so that I would not feel like that. One of the results is that I opened myself up to feel unloved in other ways. But I guess I was choosing the lesser of two evils and I had no way foster change without opening myself up to more hurt and rejection. When you don't understand the source (as was the case with me before) or have any vocabulary to talk about what is going on, it becomes hard to identify the right choices. So, I tried to cure myself by 'fixing' the symptoms.

Only you carry the problems into the next context. God told me that change starts with me.

So I'm making the journey.

I'm choosing to trust.

And I'm differentiating.

In any system, if you change one part you change the entire system because it has to adapt. A new balance is created. Problem is being undifferentiated shielded my close relationships from being upset. From pursuing me. Basically from being in a relationship of equal effort. That is a hard course to correct.

While I've noticed a reaction from most of my relationship, in particular my wife notes that I get upset now. Make stands and boundaries that I did not make before. She is having to learn how to respond. This adjustment must be tough and unsettling for her. On some level it would probably be easier to go back to the way things were - even though those ways weren't particularly good. I'm sure it is difficult for her to give up some of the responsibilities that I've passively allowed her to take on. Things that cause her anxiety. I hope that she will begin to embrace the feminine role for which God has designed her. I also hope that I become a better example of Christlikeness that will help her run toward her relationship with God.

I'm looking forward to the new, healthy balance that God is bringing to my relationships. I'm still changing, the journey is far from over, but I am making the decision to trust God with my life and destiny. (That is a differentiated statement, btw.)

The Miracle

Sometimes I just cannot get a grasp on time. There are times when things fly by. Like the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year's. College football season is another time that whirls by for me. Anytime I am on a cruise ship it's like as I walk the gangplank to get on I can already see myself walking down the other side off the ship. Time is flying.

Someone this weekend caught me in contemplation mode and asked me what I was thinking about (that's what happens when you get real quiet during a mic check with a bunch of people watching). It had just suddenly slammed in my mind that it had been almost exactly a year since The Miracle. For all my restlessness, wanting things to be further along, it has only been a year. It has just seemed like so much longer.

At the end of July last year I spent two weeks serving at a camp for the disabled in Wisconsin. Away from everything and pretty much everyone for two weeks. God was able to start talking to me. Well, strike that. God had been talking to me the entire time, it's just that I wasn't listening. Turning my back with my arms crossed. I had decided it was time to live by Frank Sinatra's motto and do things my way.

In Wisconsin, I was confronted by the dependence of the people of the camp. They each had a counselor dedicated to their needs. A buddy for people who had pretty much no one. This camp was their one week to forget they were disabled. Most impactful for me was watching these people worship and sing in chapel. Despite their circumstance and the genetic hand they were dealt, these were some of the most thankful people I'd ever seen. Trusting God. Embracing His offer of love. And I got to watch it all as I worked the sound booth. (Anyone who knows me is probably dumbstruck to learn that I ran sound, since my motto is that I sing for volume. But I'm also teachable and I did a great job.)

I was still fully in the wrong place spiritually, but I recall that during that time my heart developed its first cracks. So I spent my week teaching people how to fish (another incredibly ironic thing, since I don't fish), serving meals and running sound. I still wanted what I wanted rather than what God wanted, but the mental images of those campers still has not left me.

Once back home, I was ruled by the same discontent. Firstly, I wanted to be loved. To have someone to appreciate and respect me (ironic when my behavior was so unrespectable). Someone who wouldn't push me away. At the same time, I wanted confidence that God loved me. People had been telling me God loved me. I just didn't feel it. In fact, I was afraid. Afraid to die. Driving on I-4 used to terrify me.

One of the bargains I had with God was - "Just give me a couple years. I'll show you how good I can be. You can still use me in ministry. I can be a good husband for someone else. Just give me some time." I wanted God to accept things my way. And you can see how much I thought His love for me was based on how I performed. In essence, God if we just change things around I can show you that I am worth loving.

Yet, as you would expect, I had no peace. In fact, I was constantly anxious. Fighting God consumes a lot of energy, both physical and emotional. I was angry at pretty much everyone, but most of all, I was really, really mad at God. Wasn't He supposed to love me? Why was that one simple thing so far from a reality for me?

Emotionally, I was like a pimple. Painful pressure and it was time to break. So, as I was driving down I-4 (another irony) one fine August day, I was screaming at God. Letting it all hang loose. I am sure I looked like the crazy guy to the people slinging past me. Or maybe they didn't notice. Not sure, because I didn't notice them. I was focusing all my venom on God. "What is the problem here? Why can't you love me? Why won't things work out? Aren't I worth having someone who loves me?" and on and on and on it went. For a couple miles.

When I paused for breath, The Miracle happened. I would not make this up. I wasn't driving into the sun. There were no bright lights. But as I closed my eyes, through the tears, the words "It's your sin." were written before me. Like that, I felt freer. I had a rush of understanding. The best way I can describe it is it is like in the "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" cartoon. When the Grinch is hanging over the cliff, holding onto the sleigh of stolen Christmas articles with all his might. Listening to the Whos down in Whoville sing their song. "And the Grinch's small heart grow three sizes that day..."

Don't know how many sizes exactly, but my heart grew that day. It was my sin. I knew what I was doing was wrong, so it is hard to explain how this was a new revelation, but somehow it was. And dramatic. It's like the clouds cleared and my satellite dish could finally receive the signal. God did love me, but I was getting in the way.

Like the Grinch, I wasted no time beginning the process of making things right. Went to my wife and apologized. Made a plan with her. Went to everyone I had wronged in some way, some only slightly but I loved telling this story, and asked forgiveness. Ended my other relationship. Began to live out of the truth of God's love rather than the lie of worldly satisfaction.

While my eyes were focused on my immediate sin, God had a much larger picture. As He always does. In the year that has seemed so long, I have learned a lot of details about myself - some very excruciating - and one of the most important is that my root sin that I battle is Pride. Know your enemy. As I look back on The Miracle, and what God wrote to me, I really think that this is the sin He was referring to. We just needed some time to work together to get there.

Well, there is my Miracle. My gift from a patient and loving Father in Heaven. Amidst all that I got a job (another miracle, a funny and amazing story) and found a grace filled church (simply a rarity in church-world). There has been so much change in me this year, both within and without, and that may be why it has felt so long - because so much has been crammed in.

Thank you God for my Miracle.