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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Walking with Brokenness

As I was sorting through my funk a couple weeks ago, one of the questions that I kept focusing on was "is it fair, or even possible, to pursue the calling that I believe God has on my life while my wife deals with her brokenness - and I deal with mine for that matter?" Questions like that one make the destination so much further away and unachievable. Like trying to navigate a boat in a dense fog. Which way do you go? There is light out there, but it is so hard to see.

With that rolling around in my head, the funk go more and more.

Then, during some time with God, this thought flashed through my head...where was Peter's wife?

When you read the accounts of Jesus healing Peter's mother-in-law, Peter's wife is not mentioned at all. Does that seem curious to anyone else? There is no description of her worry for her mother's fever, no asking Jesus to heal her, no expression of thankfulness after the healing, and even more - mother-in-law began to wait on Jesus - again no mention of Peter's wife in all this.

Of course, there is probably some great reason for this, but maybe there is some back story here that we don't know or expect because we sometimes take the skin and humanity off of our Bible characters. Maybe Peter's wife resented Jesus. After all Peter just up and left his job one day to follow Jesus around the countryside. I'm sure food still needed to be put on the table and there were the proverbial bills to pay. Maybe she resented Peter for following Jesus. Now more household responsibility fell on her and she just couldn't take being around when the two of them came over. But, it really seems to me a stretch to think she would not be home with a sick mom laying in the house. Or maybe she didn't believe. Peter was being gullible. Other 'messiahs' had come and gone and left nothing but trouble. Maybe this miracle was for her so she'd believe that Jesus was different.

I wonder (of course assuming any of this has root in truth) how Peter would handle this situation. Was he frustrated with his wife's lack of faith? Did he feel torn? Was he tempted to not follow? Can you imagine the tragedy that would be, not living out his calling from Christ? Yet, history tells us that Peter's wife went to Rome to die with him. Apparently, Peter's obedience in responding to Christ's call got her to follow as well.

When confronted with such a situation, wouldn't it be easier to try to wiggle out like Adam - "Hey God, everything here was cool until you sent the woman to get us into the pile of trouble." Peter, or anyone else struggling with marriage difficulties, could cite a similar statement to justify disobedience.

Truth is, my wife and I are both broken followers of Christ. Aren't we all? Somehow, at times, I get it into my head that she needs to achieve a certain measure of wholeness before it will be possible to pursue my call. Sometimes I wonder if God didn't make a mistake, and ask is it even fair of me to follow Jesus around the countryside at all. For her, doesn't that just make overcoming brokenness that much harder?

But God keeps beckoning. I have to follow his call, it's who I am. The truth is that brokenness is not the problem. Not mine. Not my wife's. God knew before calling us and continues to expect that we are broken. It's part of the deal with being a human living in a fallen world. Being wounded is not the concern, God can and will use that. But are we actively living the the power of Christ to make steps toward overcoming the brokenness. That is trust and faithfulness. He'll control the outcome, we control our next step.

Still Cookin'

It's been a couple weeks since I've posted. The university at which I teach runs on a monthly schedule. Students take one class for 12 hours a week. For the next couple months I am teaching both a day class and a night class. Makes doing much of anything else on those days very hard. So, I've lapsed on my blogging. No shortage of ideas. Just time. Always time.

So I sit this morning at my favorite morning place with my computer along for the ride, having a bagel and recovering from the last two days. In the previous 48 hours I have worked 26 of those and when you throw in the commute, that bumps it up to 30. Not complaining or asking for sympathy, just explaining my absence.

Truth is, though, that I've been in a funk for the last couple weeks also. I tend to be optimistic, jovial and full of energy, so I do not like being in a funk. And that just makes it all the worse. Like an emotional toilet flush.

For me it has been a tough couple weeks. When you just want to crawl away and hide that is never good. It's much worse when you are in the middle of several relational systems that you are trying to change and you are aware that your funk is not helping things progress at all...it almost makes you want to give up.

And I think at some point, thanks in part to Larry Crabb (imagine me saying 'Larry' like Jerry Seinfeld says 'Newman'), I think I identified the main source of the funk...I feel so disconnected. I am a people person and I'm in the desert. With good reason and by God's design right now, but that does not change how disconnected I feel.

I also want my life to matter. For God to be able to use me to change lives. That is what I was made to do and what I feel compelled to. The road back is slow, and long, and not at all straight. It's just taking more time that I had hoped. While you might say 'ministry is not limited to vocation', I do understand that and take advantage of the opportunities God's presents, nonetheless it remains true that a huge portion of my week is spent doing things that keep me from what God designed me to do.

Just to heap it on a little more, I like a plan. (Larry Crabb would describe me as a mix of a city builder and fire lighter. I want to be right and I want to be adequate. Thanks Laaaaarrrrryyyy.) Not only do I like a plan, I'd like a timeline and mile markers on the journey. Yet there is none. I don't know what steps to make on my own to achieve marital harmony or vocational ministry. I don't know how much longer I'll be in this holding pattern.

In fact, in some areas I feel life has actually regressed. That adds to my helpless frustration. Maybe regression is faulty perception from being in the middle of everything, or maybe that is just the discomfort of the system changing. I'm not sure. What I am aware of is making my own plan is yet another thing God is breaking me of.

So, not only am I in the desert (I keep wanting to type dessert and being in a big dessert actually sounds good right now) with very little connection so I will focus my connection on God, I am also in the dark so I cannot find my own way and have to trust God; the one who has me here.

It all comes back to trust, nice. Further vindication at the choice of blog name.

There you have it. My funk. It was bad. But I'm coming out of it. Time with God is amazing (unfortunately a funk makes pursuing that time a true battle). God is reminding me that He is doing a new thing. He is the one in charge and new things take time. Not necessarily what someone living in a microwave culture wants to hear. But meat cooked in a croc-pot is way, way, way better than meat cooked in a microwave.

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.