I am not much of a puzzle builder. Takes far too much patience. I really like activities in which progress is steady and noticeable, not hunting for something that may or may not have the color/pattern/shape/shading that you are looking for only to be continually disappointed when things don't fit. The one part of the process that I did enjoy was the edge. As a kid, I was good at sorting through, finding all the flat pieces and building the frame. Progress. Then I'd leave the interior for my mom and sister.
On my spiritual journey, I am sometimes forlorn that progress in me is not quicker. More noticeable to me. That I am still so bad at being a husband and abandoning my passivity. A friend of my, in a moment of encouragement that worked, told me that I am like a person who has been miraculously spared from a medical condition, like a stroke. Now, though, I am doing the tough, painful, exhausting job of rehabilitation. Learning new behaviors, moving beyond the awkwardness of thinking through every decision, and breaking the mold that was the old relational system that I was comfortable with.
The past couple weeks, things have really been starting to fit together. It's like something I read or was counseled a few months ago suddenly clicks into place and I'm able to actualize it, not just understand it in theory. Things like sharing my inner life. Expressing my vulnerability and what God is doing with me. Being an encourager. Not being demanding, but communicating my needs and desires. Not walking away from the conflict, but making attempts to lead through. Other stuff. All of which may seem simple to you. But for a passive guy who fears rejection and disappointing others, these are monumental steps. This is my Wall. My journey to strength is taking me through my Wall.
When I was a kid, I had this Atari game (by the way, the Atari 2600 rocked. one button. one controller. hours of fun shooting tanks, racing cars, swinging on vines, slaying dragons. i would love to have an Atari 2600 with Pitfall! and Adventure to go home to. and a cup of hot chocolate. and three feet of snow so i could stay in and play...........) Sorry, retreated back to my childhood there. Anyway, the game was called Yars' Revenge. In it you were a bug shaped space ship and you had to kill the mother ship which was behind a wall. Two ways to destroy the wall, shoot it or (since you were a bug) eat it. Well, I could never figure out how to kill the mother ship, so for me all the fun was eating the wall. Kinda lame. Now that I think of it, why didn't the mother ship die when I shot it or ran into it? There was literally nothing else you could do in the game.
Anyway, I'd eat the wall. Piece by piece until I could get through. That's how my Wall is now on this journey. Ignoring it helped lead me to my place of downfall. Only way to deal with the wall is to take it apart, piece by piece. You can't leap over it, ram through it, go around it. The Wall is the Wall and you have to either deal with it or run away from it. Before I didn't have the tools to deal with it or someone who could lead me on the journey. Now I have both.
(Lots of tangents today. If you are reading this, and struggling and wanting to know what to do. Begging for a step, something to relieve the pain. My suggestion, in love, is to go see a counselor. Put the pride on hold and get some counseling. Either professionally or a well trained lay person. Issues don't just magically go away. They come back and bring seven friends.)
The latest part of the wall that I am removing, a remnant from the people pleasing pattern, is differentiating between loving/accepting and indulging. Acknowledging crises as they pop up, empathizing, strategizing, but not giving into the demands. It takes effort and truth to change a system, especially one that has had 15 years to cement itself. In the past, giving in has felt to me like I'm loving her, and it has felt like love to her. But it isn't. It's enabling (how come I can identify that in every other person on the planet, but think it is healthy in me?).
People naturally resist change. Change is uncomfortable. Resistance to me, to my new, healthy behaviors is going to make me feel like I am unloving. Which takes me to puzzle piece number two for the week - proceeding through. That's the piece of the wall. Maybe the biggest piece yet. Maybe the biggest piece there is. Not backing away passively from resistance. But continuing through, having compassion for my wife's woundedness, loving her by walking alongside through her struggles, but providing a path. Being her guide. Helping her see around the corner when she cannot.
I've never said this on my blog, always thought it was assumed - but, I love my wife. A lot. I love being with her. I always loved her before I went crazy, but after my miracle it was like the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day. And I had all the love of ten Grinches, plus two. I love my wife. And I am so sorry that I wasn't better equipped to be her husband. That is changing, better late than never.
What's on the other side of the wall? What happens when the pieces of the puzzle fit together? I am told the life of love awaits. I don't mean that in some romantic, Hollywood, fairy tale, happily ever after kind of way. I mean life of love in that loving others well without thought of myself is just the natural expression of who I am. It is Jesus not just living in me, but through me. It is channeling God's love for me to other people. The overflow. It is being a light and no one can see the bulb.
I'm not there yet. But I'm closer that I was last week. Maybe I've finished the edge of the puzzle.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
A Bad Metaphor
My birthday is tomorrow. I can honestly say that in my life there is nothing material that I want. Oh, I could give you a list of some books and I always enjoy a new shirt, but there is really nothing that I'm sitting around pining for. On a car ride this weekend (we do a lot of driving) I was joking with my wife about birthday gifts and told her that I measure how much I mean to people by what they get me as a gift. The comment was totally a joke - I think I heard it on a TV show or something, but it has struck me how relevant that comment was to be for me.
It wasn't until I got to the end of Blue Like Jazz that I pieced it all together. As donald miller is wrapping up his book, he describes how he came to the realization that his thinking on love was all wrong. When he was confronted with the metaphorical language our culture uses for love and relationships it becomes clear that, to us, they are a commodity, a product of our consumer society.
We invest in relationships.
We value people.
We build relational equity.
People can be morally bankrupt.
We make deposits in relational accounts.
My spouse is priceless (or a treasure).
You may describe someone as worthless.
Relationship have become economic. As such, we judge them by the payoff they we get from them. In this model, I'll choose to give or withhold my love based on what I'm getting out of the relationship. Think about it, if time is money - and that is part of the belief system that we have - then time I spend with someone has an economic implication. So, I will be inclined to spend time with or build into people who will produce for me, who will give me a return on my investment.
Conversely, I will withhold myself in relationship in which I'm not getting a good return. Those that are not meeting MY needs. Those that are not meeting my expectations or helping me climb the ladder of success. So withholding become a form of communication. "You don't measure up." "Give me what I want and I'll give back." "You're not worth it."
Those may or may not be the intentional messages, but I'm pretty certain that those would be the perceptions of the other, the person who is not experiencing a scarcity of attention or affection in the relationship. Looking back, I was very good at this. Pride, remember? Relationships had a definite purpose to validate me or meet a need. That's why there are people pleasers - it's not about the other, it's about self.
There were lots of relationships that I manipulated like a stock broker. Buying and selling depending upon what I was getting. Especially with my wife. Being a man with passive tendencies, I would withdraw from contact. Withhold expressions of love (unless they were physical), mope around, invest my time elsewhere where I would feel worth.
While it didn't cure me totally, my Miracle showed me the error of my unforgiveness and pride. My wife (and others) were not at my disposal or intended for my validation. But something that underlies all this, all this withholding, is a realization that our love, affection, and friendship has influence. Our love for people has the power to make or break them.
We've all heard the expression that behind every good man is a good woman. Well, duh. It is easier to succeed when you have someone cheering you on and respecting you. When you don't have to expend so much emotional energy proving yourself. Similarly, behind every good woman, I'd expect there to be a man who cherishes, encourages and loves his woman. For the same reasons. It's so much easier for a flower to bloom in fertile soil.
I want there to be fertile soil for my relationship to bloom in (Btw, are gardening metaphors better for relationships that economic ones? I'll have to think that through, but this is a blog and we'll go with it.). Since I'm the man, the God appointed leader, the change agent, it is up to me to do til the ground. Strategies abound. There are a million books on relationships that have good strategies. But they will only truly be effective when your motivation is right. When you drop the economic model of investing to get something.
Instead, serve. Give yourself as a gift. Expect nothing in return. Put your needs on hold. Do it for love. How can I claim to love God when I treat my brothers and sisters as commodities. Let God fill your account so it can be emptied for others. If you get something in return, even better, but that is not the motivation. That's been the fruit of my Miracle and coming up against the Wall of my pride. Realizing that I shouldn't be trying for an economic style return in my relationship, but creating a new metaphor.
It wasn't until I got to the end of Blue Like Jazz that I pieced it all together. As donald miller is wrapping up his book, he describes how he came to the realization that his thinking on love was all wrong. When he was confronted with the metaphorical language our culture uses for love and relationships it becomes clear that, to us, they are a commodity, a product of our consumer society.
We invest in relationships.
We value people.
We build relational equity.
People can be morally bankrupt.
We make deposits in relational accounts.
My spouse is priceless (or a treasure).
You may describe someone as worthless.
Relationship have become economic. As such, we judge them by the payoff they we get from them. In this model, I'll choose to give or withhold my love based on what I'm getting out of the relationship. Think about it, if time is money - and that is part of the belief system that we have - then time I spend with someone has an economic implication. So, I will be inclined to spend time with or build into people who will produce for me, who will give me a return on my investment.
Conversely, I will withhold myself in relationship in which I'm not getting a good return. Those that are not meeting MY needs. Those that are not meeting my expectations or helping me climb the ladder of success. So withholding become a form of communication. "You don't measure up." "Give me what I want and I'll give back." "You're not worth it."
Those may or may not be the intentional messages, but I'm pretty certain that those would be the perceptions of the other, the person who is not experiencing a scarcity of attention or affection in the relationship. Looking back, I was very good at this. Pride, remember? Relationships had a definite purpose to validate me or meet a need. That's why there are people pleasers - it's not about the other, it's about self.
There were lots of relationships that I manipulated like a stock broker. Buying and selling depending upon what I was getting. Especially with my wife. Being a man with passive tendencies, I would withdraw from contact. Withhold expressions of love (unless they were physical), mope around, invest my time elsewhere where I would feel worth.
While it didn't cure me totally, my Miracle showed me the error of my unforgiveness and pride. My wife (and others) were not at my disposal or intended for my validation. But something that underlies all this, all this withholding, is a realization that our love, affection, and friendship has influence. Our love for people has the power to make or break them.
We've all heard the expression that behind every good man is a good woman. Well, duh. It is easier to succeed when you have someone cheering you on and respecting you. When you don't have to expend so much emotional energy proving yourself. Similarly, behind every good woman, I'd expect there to be a man who cherishes, encourages and loves his woman. For the same reasons. It's so much easier for a flower to bloom in fertile soil.
I want there to be fertile soil for my relationship to bloom in (Btw, are gardening metaphors better for relationships that economic ones? I'll have to think that through, but this is a blog and we'll go with it.). Since I'm the man, the God appointed leader, the change agent, it is up to me to do til the ground. Strategies abound. There are a million books on relationships that have good strategies. But they will only truly be effective when your motivation is right. When you drop the economic model of investing to get something.
Instead, serve. Give yourself as a gift. Expect nothing in return. Put your needs on hold. Do it for love. How can I claim to love God when I treat my brothers and sisters as commodities. Let God fill your account so it can be emptied for others. If you get something in return, even better, but that is not the motivation. That's been the fruit of my Miracle and coming up against the Wall of my pride. Realizing that I shouldn't be trying for an economic style return in my relationship, but creating a new metaphor.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Why'd You Have to Go and Make Things So Complicated
It is great to get another perspective. Especially one that causes you to take a step back and see things really differently. An "a ha!" moment. Just like the picture of the woman below. Some see an old woman looking down and others see a young woman with her head turned away. It takes some serious effort to break through your preconceptions and see the other woman, but when you do it is almost like your brain experiences a sense of relief.
Although, it is just a little humbling when that relieving change in perspective comes from the mouth of a nine year old child. Jesus did say that the kingdom belonged to those such as the little children, yet it doesn't make the pill any easier to swallow. Let me give you the back story.
Since I repented from my craziness I have been praying that God would give me a second chance at ministry. In fact, I feel totally compelled that is His direction for me. At the same time, I know that my dessert experience is important and not to be rushed. I'm learning to delight in God regardless of my circumstances. So I've prayed. Knowing that it would be a miracle of God's grace.
That in a nutshell is the back story. So, in an amazingly humbling event, I am talking with a church about a job. Whether it comes to anything or not, I am filled with gratitude and awe struck by a God of forgiveness and second chances. In everything, I want to be faithful, not running ahead (as is my bent), not lagging behind.
In my effort of faithfulness I was employing those around me to pray. My daughter was one of those and I also wanted to get her thoughts on this potential new opportunity. Here is our conversation:
Me: "How would you feel about daddy going to work at pastor smith's church?"
Her: "I think it would be great. I like going and they don't have church on Saturday so we'd get to spend that together."
Me: "Would you pray for this opportunity?"
Her: "What do you want me to pray for?"
Me: "That daddy would only do what God wants. And that I have a clear direction on whether to take the job or not."
Her: "I'll pray if you want me to daddy, but it seems like this is the answer to your prayers. You've been praying for this since you came back and God knows that is what He made you to do."
Me: "Well, ok then."
Now, as you read this conversation, when my daughter said the word 'answer', say it in your mind as a nine year old would say it while explaining something super obvious to a three year old sibling. Kinda drawn out, like "aaaaannnnsssswwweeeerrrr to your prayers (aren't you my dad? shouldn't you be smarter than me? i can't believe you don't understand how prayer words dad.).
While I'm not advocating here that I should not pray, isn't it true that we over complicate things? Like if God did give me neon writing in the sky, I'd be like "yeah, but I'd be really sure if He made it a blinking neon sign."
It's all about trust. Putting your life in His hands. Trusting where He is going to send you. I think sometimes there is a semblance of distrust in our prayers. Using prayer as a disguise. "Let me pray on it" is the most common blow off in ministry. It's passive, wanting the decision to be made for me. Taking the trust out of my hands. Neon signs do not require faith. Neon signs are for the timid. From my daughter's perspective, I was already praying. This was the answer, not a point for indecision.
How simple. And in this case, how true. I'm connected to God in a way that is different from the past. I'm aware of what He's doing in my life. This IS an answer to prayer. So, one foot in front of the other I'm going to choose the path of trust. Let's see where this opportunity leads.
Although, it is just a little humbling when that relieving change in perspective comes from the mouth of a nine year old child. Jesus did say that the kingdom belonged to those such as the little children, yet it doesn't make the pill any easier to swallow. Let me give you the back story.
Since I repented from my craziness I have been praying that God would give me a second chance at ministry. In fact, I feel totally compelled that is His direction for me. At the same time, I know that my dessert experience is important and not to be rushed. I'm learning to delight in God regardless of my circumstances. So I've prayed. Knowing that it would be a miracle of God's grace.
That in a nutshell is the back story. So, in an amazingly humbling event, I am talking with a church about a job. Whether it comes to anything or not, I am filled with gratitude and awe struck by a God of forgiveness and second chances. In everything, I want to be faithful, not running ahead (as is my bent), not lagging behind.
In my effort of faithfulness I was employing those around me to pray. My daughter was one of those and I also wanted to get her thoughts on this potential new opportunity. Here is our conversation:
Me: "How would you feel about daddy going to work at pastor smith's church?"
Her: "I think it would be great. I like going and they don't have church on Saturday so we'd get to spend that together."
Me: "Would you pray for this opportunity?"
Her: "What do you want me to pray for?"
Me: "That daddy would only do what God wants. And that I have a clear direction on whether to take the job or not."
Her: "I'll pray if you want me to daddy, but it seems like this is the answer to your prayers. You've been praying for this since you came back and God knows that is what He made you to do."
Me: "Well, ok then."
Now, as you read this conversation, when my daughter said the word 'answer', say it in your mind as a nine year old would say it while explaining something super obvious to a three year old sibling. Kinda drawn out, like "aaaaannnnsssswwweeeerrrr to your prayers (aren't you my dad? shouldn't you be smarter than me? i can't believe you don't understand how prayer words dad.).
While I'm not advocating here that I should not pray, isn't it true that we over complicate things? Like if God did give me neon writing in the sky, I'd be like "yeah, but I'd be really sure if He made it a blinking neon sign."
It's all about trust. Putting your life in His hands. Trusting where He is going to send you. I think sometimes there is a semblance of distrust in our prayers. Using prayer as a disguise. "Let me pray on it" is the most common blow off in ministry. It's passive, wanting the decision to be made for me. Taking the trust out of my hands. Neon signs do not require faith. Neon signs are for the timid. From my daughter's perspective, I was already praying. This was the answer, not a point for indecision.
How simple. And in this case, how true. I'm connected to God in a way that is different from the past. I'm aware of what He's doing in my life. This IS an answer to prayer. So, one foot in front of the other I'm going to choose the path of trust. Let's see where this opportunity leads.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Thou Dost Protesteth Too Much
While talking with some friends at church, we got going about the church group that has been in the news recently for protesting things. Mainly at the funerals of dead soldiers who were gay. But it seems they have branched out. My friend had encountered them at a sci-fi convention in San Diego where they had signs like "God hates nerds" and other uplifting statements.
Before Christ we all had things that we used in the place of God in our hearts. For some it may be the fantasy of a sci-fi world. For others it is how they define themselves sexually. Doesn't make it right, just true of everyone who has experienced the human condition.
It occurred to me that this church group has forgotten that. They've fallen into the trap of self-righteousness. Basically and attitude of "I've changed, forget that it was a process, I expect you to be just like me." Absent are grace and hope, heavy are the doses of judgment and condemnation. Really, it does more to damage the cause of Christ. If not for the Holy Spirit, I'd say it would be impossible for those who receive this condemnation to realize they are loved by God.
Conversely, I've been reading Blue Like Jazz by donald miller (he doesn't capitalize his name on the book cover, so I'll be cool and do the same). It's an interesting peek into one man's journey on the Christian path. My favorite chapter has been 'confession'. Seems don found himself one of a small handful of Christians on a very secular college campus, openly hostile to expressions of Christianity. As part of their effort to figure out how to live on this campus, they decided to 'come out' during a campus party weekend. They did this using a confession booth that advertised "Confess Your Sins".
Kicker was, the confession booth was for the Christians to confess how they'd failed as Christians, how they had not lived up to the example of Christ. This act was so shocking to the campus, that they earned a measure of acceptance and respect from the student body. A group once openly hostile, now tolerated and attended their groups and events.
Rather than self-righteous indignation, don and his gang practiced humility - not considering themselves higher than they ought, remembering from where they came on their own journey and how they were formerly trapped in the world of sin.
I'm afraid that my pride caused me to be more like the former than the latter. No, I didn't protest things - I've always thought that was a silly way to reach people and communicate a hope filled message - my self-righteousness was more subtle. I had allowed myself a book understanding of people's problems rather than having a heart felt empathy.
It is hard to follow Christ. It is often painful to accept the truth of his teachings and pursue obedience. There are painful consequences when you work out your salvation. More often than I'd like to admit, while my advice was sound, I was given to frustration rather easily when people didn't immediately follow it. Or struggled to make up their mind. That was my pride. Rather, pride's fruitful cousin - self-righteousness.
It was like life was a multiple choice test, and all we needed was the answer key. Life would work out if we'd all just bubble in the correct circles. And I approached my life and as well as others with that mindset. I did this with people I counseled and some of those that I led. Especially with my wife as she did not live up to my expectations and meet my needs. And to some degree, with myself as I lived behind my mask. I didn't have a lot of grace to give because I wasn't allowing myself to receive it. I had my proverbial fig leaf on as I hid even from God.
The heart is a funny thing. It is described as the wellspring of life and also deceitful above all things. I am told John of the Cross wrote that the language of God is the experience God writes into our lives. That sounds about right. And God has used my experience to replace my heart of stone with a heart of flesh. My time in the dessert has really renewed my love for people and my desire to serve them in the name of Christ. Not perfectly, and I'm learning to give myself grace along the way (still a struggle). This time, though, loving others is not for the benefit of my approval meter.
Before Christ we all had things that we used in the place of God in our hearts. For some it may be the fantasy of a sci-fi world. For others it is how they define themselves sexually. Doesn't make it right, just true of everyone who has experienced the human condition.
It occurred to me that this church group has forgotten that. They've fallen into the trap of self-righteousness. Basically and attitude of "I've changed, forget that it was a process, I expect you to be just like me." Absent are grace and hope, heavy are the doses of judgment and condemnation. Really, it does more to damage the cause of Christ. If not for the Holy Spirit, I'd say it would be impossible for those who receive this condemnation to realize they are loved by God.
Conversely, I've been reading Blue Like Jazz by donald miller (he doesn't capitalize his name on the book cover, so I'll be cool and do the same). It's an interesting peek into one man's journey on the Christian path. My favorite chapter has been 'confession'. Seems don found himself one of a small handful of Christians on a very secular college campus, openly hostile to expressions of Christianity. As part of their effort to figure out how to live on this campus, they decided to 'come out' during a campus party weekend. They did this using a confession booth that advertised "Confess Your Sins".
Kicker was, the confession booth was for the Christians to confess how they'd failed as Christians, how they had not lived up to the example of Christ. This act was so shocking to the campus, that they earned a measure of acceptance and respect from the student body. A group once openly hostile, now tolerated and attended their groups and events.
Rather than self-righteous indignation, don and his gang practiced humility - not considering themselves higher than they ought, remembering from where they came on their own journey and how they were formerly trapped in the world of sin.
I'm afraid that my pride caused me to be more like the former than the latter. No, I didn't protest things - I've always thought that was a silly way to reach people and communicate a hope filled message - my self-righteousness was more subtle. I had allowed myself a book understanding of people's problems rather than having a heart felt empathy.
It is hard to follow Christ. It is often painful to accept the truth of his teachings and pursue obedience. There are painful consequences when you work out your salvation. More often than I'd like to admit, while my advice was sound, I was given to frustration rather easily when people didn't immediately follow it. Or struggled to make up their mind. That was my pride. Rather, pride's fruitful cousin - self-righteousness.
It was like life was a multiple choice test, and all we needed was the answer key. Life would work out if we'd all just bubble in the correct circles. And I approached my life and as well as others with that mindset. I did this with people I counseled and some of those that I led. Especially with my wife as she did not live up to my expectations and meet my needs. And to some degree, with myself as I lived behind my mask. I didn't have a lot of grace to give because I wasn't allowing myself to receive it. I had my proverbial fig leaf on as I hid even from God.
The heart is a funny thing. It is described as the wellspring of life and also deceitful above all things. I am told John of the Cross wrote that the language of God is the experience God writes into our lives. That sounds about right. And God has used my experience to replace my heart of stone with a heart of flesh. My time in the dessert has really renewed my love for people and my desire to serve them in the name of Christ. Not perfectly, and I'm learning to give myself grace along the way (still a struggle). This time, though, loving others is not for the benefit of my approval meter.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Who's the Boss?
It has taken a long time to learn, but I have been the king of the 'non-anxious response'. Said another way, I had come to lead my marriage (and participate in other close relationships) out of my fears and anxieties. Fear of rejection, fear of not being loved, and fear of not living up to other's expectations (disappointing others) were the things I was trying to avoid. So, it turns out, I wasn't so much leading as I was placating my own fears.
Much like my dad, I've always tended toward passivity and people pleasing. Ways to relieve my pain and avoid my fears. If I didn't open up, rejection would be less painful. If I did things to make people happy, I wouldn't have to face disappointment. While I was plenty guilty of this in all areas, I am mainly going to focus on my marital system.
Here's the problem: when your highest goal is to keep the peace, you transfer the power in the relationship. When having your own expectations met determines your happiness, the other person is in control. And that, very subtly, is what happened in my marriage. This did not happen by any nefarious plan by my wife, it is simply the equilibrium we achieved to minimize our pain.
Yet, my role is leader. God gifted me and designed me to be a leader. So, it is oh so ironic that in my immediate family I allowed my anxious response take me out of the leadership position. Just like Adam. You know that story, don't you?
Past results have been that, if I'm not leading my marriage, I am then trying to get something out of it. Placing expectations on my wife for my happiness. Rather than a ministry, marriage was about performing to get the reward. That is the definition of being undifferentiated in a relationship, if you've never heard the counseling term for it.
My wife was the boss by default. Just like Eve. Both of them facing the serpent while the men are abandoning their responsibility. My greatest failure in all of this has been that, while I was so focused on my own needs and anxieties, I didn't notice the struggle that my wife was having. The walls of protection that she was erecting. Actually, not noticing is too strong - I certainly did notice them because they caused my wife not to be able to respond to me emotionally, physically or spiritually as my wife. By the time I was emotionally empty enough to suggest getting some outside help, she was emotionally empty enough not to want to pitch in the effort. Further frustration cause by pandering to my fears.
A husband is supposed to provide the security for his wife to open up and be herself. I was so focused on the lack of respect that I was due that I was shutting her down. An exhausting cycle because my response, was to try harder and harder to have the marriage everyone would expect.
In my defense, with the example passed to my by my father, I did not have the tools to do this. My root sin of pride made it very hard to invite people into this. Frustration with God caused me to shut Him out. A bad experience quenched any trust that I did have or might have developed. And no one seemed to notice or care about what they were seeing in me. That is not a statement to try to absolve myself of responsibility, just an observation of the relational system I'd constructed.
So, harder and harder I tried, like a hamster in a wheel. My every misguided effort only served to solidify the status quo. My wife felt more hurt, alone, misunderstood and built more walls of insulation. I felt more lonely, unlovable and disrespected. Legitimate needs and desires that I wanted fulfilled in illegitimate ways. Like the hamster, my tank was empty and I was still nowhere.
Never make a decision alone when you are emotionally exhausted and spiritually empty. For me, when I was at this place, I dropped the pretensions and was emotionally honest. Unfortunately, out of this desperation, rather than pursuing godliness, I took refuge in worldliness. Bad choice.
Here's the thing, that's where we got when power was transferred in my relationship. Like Esau giving up the birthright for some stew, I gave up power to avoid my fears. The process of change requires that I take back leadership. Tough considering the 'comfort' of our known roles. Journeying toward strength means facing my fears and considering my wife's needs alongside my own. Tough because it means denying my legitimate needs and desires for a time to allow my wife the safety and room to heal. It means stepping into my God given and God designed role.
Like walking barefoot your entire life and then being given shoes, it feels awkward but hopefully both my wife and I will adjust to the comfort and protection of the new footwear. It means me having the strength to lead, and her having the strength to let me.
Much like my dad, I've always tended toward passivity and people pleasing. Ways to relieve my pain and avoid my fears. If I didn't open up, rejection would be less painful. If I did things to make people happy, I wouldn't have to face disappointment. While I was plenty guilty of this in all areas, I am mainly going to focus on my marital system.
Here's the problem: when your highest goal is to keep the peace, you transfer the power in the relationship. When having your own expectations met determines your happiness, the other person is in control. And that, very subtly, is what happened in my marriage. This did not happen by any nefarious plan by my wife, it is simply the equilibrium we achieved to minimize our pain.
Yet, my role is leader. God gifted me and designed me to be a leader. So, it is oh so ironic that in my immediate family I allowed my anxious response take me out of the leadership position. Just like Adam. You know that story, don't you?
Past results have been that, if I'm not leading my marriage, I am then trying to get something out of it. Placing expectations on my wife for my happiness. Rather than a ministry, marriage was about performing to get the reward. That is the definition of being undifferentiated in a relationship, if you've never heard the counseling term for it.
My wife was the boss by default. Just like Eve. Both of them facing the serpent while the men are abandoning their responsibility. My greatest failure in all of this has been that, while I was so focused on my own needs and anxieties, I didn't notice the struggle that my wife was having. The walls of protection that she was erecting. Actually, not noticing is too strong - I certainly did notice them because they caused my wife not to be able to respond to me emotionally, physically or spiritually as my wife. By the time I was emotionally empty enough to suggest getting some outside help, she was emotionally empty enough not to want to pitch in the effort. Further frustration cause by pandering to my fears.
A husband is supposed to provide the security for his wife to open up and be herself. I was so focused on the lack of respect that I was due that I was shutting her down. An exhausting cycle because my response, was to try harder and harder to have the marriage everyone would expect.
In my defense, with the example passed to my by my father, I did not have the tools to do this. My root sin of pride made it very hard to invite people into this. Frustration with God caused me to shut Him out. A bad experience quenched any trust that I did have or might have developed. And no one seemed to notice or care about what they were seeing in me. That is not a statement to try to absolve myself of responsibility, just an observation of the relational system I'd constructed.
So, harder and harder I tried, like a hamster in a wheel. My every misguided effort only served to solidify the status quo. My wife felt more hurt, alone, misunderstood and built more walls of insulation. I felt more lonely, unlovable and disrespected. Legitimate needs and desires that I wanted fulfilled in illegitimate ways. Like the hamster, my tank was empty and I was still nowhere.
Never make a decision alone when you are emotionally exhausted and spiritually empty. For me, when I was at this place, I dropped the pretensions and was emotionally honest. Unfortunately, out of this desperation, rather than pursuing godliness, I took refuge in worldliness. Bad choice.
Here's the thing, that's where we got when power was transferred in my relationship. Like Esau giving up the birthright for some stew, I gave up power to avoid my fears. The process of change requires that I take back leadership. Tough considering the 'comfort' of our known roles. Journeying toward strength means facing my fears and considering my wife's needs alongside my own. Tough because it means denying my legitimate needs and desires for a time to allow my wife the safety and room to heal. It means stepping into my God given and God designed role.
Like walking barefoot your entire life and then being given shoes, it feels awkward but hopefully both my wife and I will adjust to the comfort and protection of the new footwear. It means me having the strength to lead, and her having the strength to let me.
Monday, October 11, 2010
A Touching Moment
Met with a friend last week. Someone who has been on this journey of recovery since the beginning. In my last blog I mentioned my relational desert. As of right now I can think of three people who have been consistently walking with me. They are my manna. Provided by God. Miracles of the journey.
This friend and I went for a ride and sat in a park and talked for awhile. The future came up. A subject that I'm filled with hope about, but a reluctance to build up any expectations. Anything the future holds is a gift and I just want to soak in every moment of this journey.
During our conversation he said something to the effect of "Friend, I know thinking about the future is tough for you, but I want you to know that when I look at you and when I'm with you, I never think of the past. It never occurs to me." He was offering me one of the greatest gifts that anyone could - he is choosing to not define me by my past and my mistakes.
Swimming in forgiveness and grace feels so good and freeing. Admittedly, this friend was brought to me by God after everything in my life blew up, so maybe it was easier for him to not define me by my failure. Maybe. Either way, I'm not going to dwell on that point, I am just going to enjoy how refreshed my heart felt at being offered this gift.
It made me think of God. He has been through all of this with me. He did have to endure the heartbreak of my failures. Yet, the Bible is clear that I can still freely stand at the foot of the throne of grace and mercy and have it heaped on me. God too chooses not to define me by my failure and disappointment, but rather uses it for my good. And He has. This journey is a good one.
I know as I continue on my life will be filled with more friends who will know little of where I've been. In some ways it will become the distant past, too far back on the horizon for most to see. At that point I hope for two things - that I'll be able to comfort others with the comfort I've received, and that others whom I have disappointed will join the journey and define me as God does.
This friend and I went for a ride and sat in a park and talked for awhile. The future came up. A subject that I'm filled with hope about, but a reluctance to build up any expectations. Anything the future holds is a gift and I just want to soak in every moment of this journey.
During our conversation he said something to the effect of "Friend, I know thinking about the future is tough for you, but I want you to know that when I look at you and when I'm with you, I never think of the past. It never occurs to me." He was offering me one of the greatest gifts that anyone could - he is choosing to not define me by my past and my mistakes.
Swimming in forgiveness and grace feels so good and freeing. Admittedly, this friend was brought to me by God after everything in my life blew up, so maybe it was easier for him to not define me by my failure. Maybe. Either way, I'm not going to dwell on that point, I am just going to enjoy how refreshed my heart felt at being offered this gift.
It made me think of God. He has been through all of this with me. He did have to endure the heartbreak of my failures. Yet, the Bible is clear that I can still freely stand at the foot of the throne of grace and mercy and have it heaped on me. God too chooses not to define me by my failure and disappointment, but rather uses it for my good. And He has. This journey is a good one.
I know as I continue on my life will be filled with more friends who will know little of where I've been. In some ways it will become the distant past, too far back on the horizon for most to see. At that point I hope for two things - that I'll be able to comfort others with the comfort I've received, and that others whom I have disappointed will join the journey and define me as God does.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
On a Horse with No Name
I am in the middle of a desert experience. Hold that. My wife and I have been watching a TV show called Monk about an obsessive compulsive police detective. He has a passion for details, especially things other people would consider minute. After someone made a statement like mine ("I am in the middle of a desert experience."), Monk, who is the master of the tangential response said "There is no way you can know that. Only God can know when middle of an experience that hasn't ended yet is." Make me laugh. OK Mr. Monk, point taken. Fact remains that the reader knows what I'm talking about - I am in the middle of a desert experience.
While there were others, the epitome of desert experiences in the Bible was the one had by the entire Israelite nation as they fled Egypt. Despite the fact that the journey could have been decades shorter, God kept the Israelites in the desert because they were not ready for the land of promise. God needed to develop a thirst in them that could be developed no where else but by walking in the desert.
Think about this...what grows in the desert? What do you drink in the desert? What is there to use to make structures or clothes? Nothing. The desert produces absolutely nothing. It is a place of desolation, drought, and poverty. To sustain life, you have to turn the the Author and Giver of life, and that is exactly what God was teaching the Israelites. Before they could appreciate the promised land, they had to first appreciate God. His provision. His protection.
Basically, the desert will make you thirsty. And a entire generation had to learn the hard way (by dying in the desert), that God is the source of our thirst quenching. So they had to rely on a pillar of cloud and fire to lead them (nice GPS!), water to come from rocks, food to fall from the sky, shoes that wouldn't wear out. Literally everything they needed had to come directly from the hand of God. Still took 40 years for their pride to be broken.
That's the desert - source of poverty and thirst - and the place where we maybe most willing to see God.
At present, that is where I find myself. In a relational desert. For work I drive and hour. So I'm an outsider. I spend many hours each day in a room full of nice people, but there is not a sacred companion here. I've mainly been to my new church on Sundays, which as every church leader knows, is not the best day to build depth. Yes I have a few friends (an oasis) and a lot of relational potential, but it's the desert. Loneliness is my thirst right now.
My suspicion is that is just what God wants. Thirst turned the Israelites to turn to God for a solution. The thirst I experience has caused me to depend on God in a very real way. To develop depth. To not just offer a formula of prayer, but to experience God in prayer. Literally feeling Him walk with me in the morning as I talk with Him. The desert can be a refreshing place if you know where to look.
Yet, I find that I'm still in the middle (yes, Mr. Monk, I heard you), learning to embrace the desert, and longing for what comes next. For Israel it was 40 years. Elijah was fed by ravens until the brook dried up. Jesus waited 30 years a carpenter's son. The disciples waited without Jesus and without the Counselor for days in a room praying constantly.
Sometimes it just doesn't seem like God is in a hurry. Isn't he revolutionizing the world here? Does He have time to waste? Well, apparently it is not a waste. Seasons like this need to be embraced. Sometimes the best thing is the wait and be still and not do, do, do. The next challenge will be to maintain that perspective and balance when out of the desert.
While there were others, the epitome of desert experiences in the Bible was the one had by the entire Israelite nation as they fled Egypt. Despite the fact that the journey could have been decades shorter, God kept the Israelites in the desert because they were not ready for the land of promise. God needed to develop a thirst in them that could be developed no where else but by walking in the desert.
Think about this...what grows in the desert? What do you drink in the desert? What is there to use to make structures or clothes? Nothing. The desert produces absolutely nothing. It is a place of desolation, drought, and poverty. To sustain life, you have to turn the the Author and Giver of life, and that is exactly what God was teaching the Israelites. Before they could appreciate the promised land, they had to first appreciate God. His provision. His protection.
Basically, the desert will make you thirsty. And a entire generation had to learn the hard way (by dying in the desert), that God is the source of our thirst quenching. So they had to rely on a pillar of cloud and fire to lead them (nice GPS!), water to come from rocks, food to fall from the sky, shoes that wouldn't wear out. Literally everything they needed had to come directly from the hand of God. Still took 40 years for their pride to be broken.
That's the desert - source of poverty and thirst - and the place where we maybe most willing to see God.
At present, that is where I find myself. In a relational desert. For work I drive and hour. So I'm an outsider. I spend many hours each day in a room full of nice people, but there is not a sacred companion here. I've mainly been to my new church on Sundays, which as every church leader knows, is not the best day to build depth. Yes I have a few friends (an oasis) and a lot of relational potential, but it's the desert. Loneliness is my thirst right now.
My suspicion is that is just what God wants. Thirst turned the Israelites to turn to God for a solution. The thirst I experience has caused me to depend on God in a very real way. To develop depth. To not just offer a formula of prayer, but to experience God in prayer. Literally feeling Him walk with me in the morning as I talk with Him. The desert can be a refreshing place if you know where to look.
Yet, I find that I'm still in the middle (yes, Mr. Monk, I heard you), learning to embrace the desert, and longing for what comes next. For Israel it was 40 years. Elijah was fed by ravens until the brook dried up. Jesus waited 30 years a carpenter's son. The disciples waited without Jesus and without the Counselor for days in a room praying constantly.
Sometimes it just doesn't seem like God is in a hurry. Isn't he revolutionizing the world here? Does He have time to waste? Well, apparently it is not a waste. Seasons like this need to be embraced. Sometimes the best thing is the wait and be still and not do, do, do. The next challenge will be to maintain that perspective and balance when out of the desert.
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