The Ultimate Acts of Humility: Transparency, Vulnerability, Surrender

For anyone who doesn't know, I attend Celebrate Recovery meetings. A guy came in last week for the first time and bared his soul to a room of strangers.

I was blown away by his humility.

First, it takes humbling yourself to even show up; then it's another thing entirely to open up and speak those things which you secretly wish no one would ever find out.

It takes incredible humility to come to terms with and admit that you're terribly broken.

This thought crossed my mind that night:

Transparency, vulnerability, and surrender are among the most humble of actions available to the human heart.

You can't be transparent without being vulnerable:

I didn't upload the video, but it is, by far, one of my favorite movie scenes of all time: there is a part of me that would love to do what Stu does, to come clean and admit all my wrongs, to be completely transparent, to stop hiding.

But I'm not sure people will like what's underneath, and I desperately want to be accepted of them.

And so I hide.

Having pastors tell you from the pulpit that they don't have any tolerance for those who struggle doesn't exactly help, either.

But back to humility: you can't surrender without making yourself vulnerable, either.

Jesus certainly modeled this when he humbled himself and was surrendered to his Father's will, to die on a cross (Luke 22:42, Philippians 2:8).

I also realized during this meeting that if I could've healed myself, I would've already.

But my wounds are beyond my skill to heal (if I even have any).

And because I'm wounded, I act in ways that hurt others. As the saying goes, "Hurt people hurt people."

This doesn't make me a jerk; it just means that I'm broken.

In my mind, I know that what's required is to humble myself and surrender to God, allow myself to be vulnerable and to let him in, to allow his love to transform me from the inside, out.

In my heart, it's another story. Oh, how many things there are to vie for our attention these days...

My heart has made agreements with where it believes it will find life, and so it goes looking for what it believes is "life" in things that aren't healthy (Proverbs 14:12, anyone?).

I know that my mind can keep my heart in check...

...but given a choice between chocolate and vegetables, in the moment I choose chocolate, but 20 minutes later when I'm sick to my stomach, I'll wish that I had chosen the veggies.

To quote C.S. Lewis,

The heart never takes the place of the [mind]: but it can, and should, obey it.

Even though we're emotional creatures, we have the ability to be rational as well; we just have to separate ourselves from our emotions in the moment. Not always -- or ever -- an easy thing to do, but we become the men/women that we want through the choosing in the little moments.

So here's to choosing God when it matters: when our hearts desperately need him, even though we may, in the moment, want something else more than him...

"I’m fine": It’s Not Okay to Not Be Okay

Is it ever okay
to not be okay?
Where perfection is expected
as if it was the only selection,
Continually faking smiles,
Hiding, all the while,
Who I am underneath,
Wondering when someone will See
that I’m not who I present myself to be.

Is it ever okay
to not be okay?
I would love to be fully known
instead of feeling all alone,
but ask me how I’m doing
and every time
I’ll casually respond with
“I am fine,”
Knowing that it’s a calculated reply,
a complete and utter lie.
But I still use it every day
because it’s not okay
to not be okay.

Who I am underneath
is the most important thing
about the face that I see
in the mirror looking back at me.
I wish it would reflect
something more than the circumspect;
hope, perhaps, or even love,
or something heavenly from above.
I acknowledge that God still works wonders,
but right now I’m still under
whatever it is I’m dealing with.

I would love to let you in
to help me bear this burden
but during service
we’re always hurrying,
Not allowing space
for each person’s face
to truly reveal
the man behind the curtain
that we’ve so carefully concealed
Because it’s not okay
to not be okay.

It’s not okay
to not be okay.
I’m sick of being another
stained glass masquerade.
Can’t you see
that it’s impossible for me
to go from victory to victory
When I’m the one to blame
for my troubles and my shame,
For the pain and the strife
that I have in my life
and deal with on a daily basis.

But when I look at everyone’s faces
I can’t let them see
that I’m not really free, because
it’s not okay
to not be okay.

When you tell me I did great
Can’t you see, a difference, it doesn’t make
Because the only type of connection
is casual communication;
There’s no deeper relations
because we only deal in faces
and not the deeper longings of the heart…

And so I will continue showing up
wondering when I will catch a break
and finally come across
the things for which my heart aches.
But in the meantime
when I encounter the parade,
Expect me to show up
as a stained glass masquerade,

Because it’s not okay
to not be okay.

Need For Speed: Most Wanted. "Start some trouble."

So I was on YouTube looking up a music video and the following commercial popped up:

First off, the commercial is incredibly fun. Well done, EA. Well done.

But what about the success of the Need for Speed franchise? I mean, it’s been an incredibly successful video game (they have about three times the number of releases as the Grand Theft Auto series).

But what’s the allure? Why the success?

“Well, I have a theory about that.” ~ Dr. Kent Hovind

First, there’s the attraction that guys are wired for adventure. Say what you want, but most extreme sports, stunts, and daredevils have been by men, for men (this also explains why the WNBA is not nearly as popular as the NBA). We love the adrenaline rush from living on the edge and testing our limits.

But from a video game?

How many guys wouldn’t love to take their car on the autobahn in Germany (which has no speed limit for over 10% of the time, although the advised limit is 81 MPH)?

I’m not saying I’d drive like that all the time. To be honest, I do the speed limit about 99% of the time and only do 5 over as the exception rather than the rule.

But I also love what I refer to as “playing in traffic” – finding a group of cars that are speeding and join in with them.

I can hear some parents cringing right now, but I’m being honest and transparent about it; to say that it doesn't make me feel alive would be to deny my very nature as a man. Besides that, there have been too many times where I’ve held my tongue or kept some part of me hidden because someone, somewhere, would have a problem with it.

Hey, I’m just pointing out the elephant in the room. You can choose to ignore it, but it’s better to point it in the right direction so it doesn’t cause unwarranted damage.

Where was I? Oh, yeah...

Guys love adventure.

And in the hum-drum of our daily lives, there’s not a lot of chances to live out our desire for it:

Get up.

Go to work.

Work.

Come home.

Sleep.

Repeat ad infinitum.

Oh – and a little relaxing/indulging on the weekends, whatever that may be for you and yours.

It’s no wonder that so many men hate going to church – there’s no sense of adventure!

We get to-do lists, and morality in the form of rules and requirements and responsibilities.

Don’t get me wrong, because I’m not saying those aren’t important, only that they aren’t enough for a man’s heart.

Just today I was reading in Revolutionary Road (made into a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet) about how fundamentally unhappy this suburban husband and father was in his life of should and ought-to rules that he had begun to live from.

As Frank Wheeler is thinking back on his life since he’d gotten married, had some kids, been roped into responsibilities he never intended to get involved with (or been shouldered with prematurely), this rises up in his heart:

What the hell kind of a life was this? What in God’s name was the point or the meaning or the purpose of a life like this?

He’d been sucked into a life with no adventure -- just existing.

Disclaimer: Seeking adventure doesn't replace responsibilities as a husband and/or father, but you don't have to live your life only fulfilling those responsibilities...

As the comic strip Shoe lamented just the other day:

Cosmo (above) has checked out and given in to resignation. He's given up fighting and thrown in the towel.

To quote Killian Jones from Once Upon A Time...

"A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets."

I'm not saying you have to fight for everything, but if you don't even pick up the hypothetical sword to at least attempt to go after it... Well, you get what you get.

Other men don't give in to resignation, though; they get angry. To put it into Fight Club terms (which is a cult classic with men, by the way):

Where Am I Going With All This?

See, this is the point in the blog where I’m supposed to tell you where to find adventure.

But to find that out, you have to watch the following clip (the part I’m referring to is 5:09-5:33):

“There is one place you have not looked.”

He’s referring to the inside, in your heart.

If you want adventure, you have to look for what you love – what makes you come alive – and go and do that.

For me -- and this is just for me, since it will look different for every man and that's okay -- a lot of it comes through physical activity by working out, but also through coaching middle school wrestling, being involved in others' lives, writing, playing drums, spending time outside.

It doesn't have to be dangerous stuff, but the point is that men are made for adventure; it is, in one way, shape, or form, hard-wired into your deep, masculine heart. To deny it is to repress it and force it to re-emerge in ways that you wouldn't expect (or probably want).

To harness it, though, and see what it will do and where it will take you...

That's where the fun begins.

Quick Word of Warning

Don’t be deceived by false adventures, though. Look for something authentic and lasting (video games and just about anything on the internet falls in the category of false adventures, *cough* Farmville *cough*).

Get away from the TV.

Get away from the computer.

Shoot, get away from the cell phone and iPod.

Go find something that gives you soul space where you can come alive.

And have some fun with it. :-)

Slight-of-Hand

People came to church looking for God
but got religion in its place,
a slight-of-hand technique
from their soul’s Enemy…

They never even saw it coming
or realized that they had been deceived,
but the desires in their hearts
for a God who was loving and strong
simply would not go away…

So they found ways to medicate
or bury their heart so that
they wouldn’t have to face the reality
that the geography of their life
didn’t match the desires that were
still waiting,

deep in their hearts…

Monopoly & Bittersweet Victories: An Update

* The first part of this entry is from a Monopoly game that I won and the reflective thoughts that sprang from it. The second part, which consists of additional thoughts, is in response to a picture I saw posted on Facebook.

Monopoly

If you grew up in my house, Monopoly was a regular event every Friday & Saturday night. And the way I learned to play utterly ruthless: you played by the rules, sure, but you tried to get away with as much stuff as you could (e.g., not paying rent whenever possible).

We were very shady.

So when I received an invitation to go play Monopoly with some friends, I was on it.

But the invitation came from someone who prefers a much friendlier way of playing: be honest when you land on someone's space and offer to pay them rent instead of trying to get away with not paying it.

Not what I'm used to after several years of playing via the ruthless style, but (1) I love to play, and (2) I love my friends, so I went.

In Comes The Twist

Now, when I was playing growing up, my dad had his “lucky iron” piece, whose “curse” practically guaranteed victory on a regular basis against my cousin & I: my dad routinely crushed us, even when we tried to team up against him.

So when I would do really well back then and totally dominate (rare though it was), it was a glorious feeling because the atmosphere of the game was “every man for himself.”

God, however, operates on a different wavelength, something more along the lines of “everyone is important.” This is not a tree-hugging-touchy-feely-New-Age-hippie mentality, but one where a genuine concern for all involved is expressed.

And so while the game is somewhat close and competitive, playing the friendly way is quite enjoyable. Until you start to really dominate your friends.

Before you go jumping to conclusions, I'm not writing this to say that I won by having a total of 11 hotels on the board (which I did), but that the experience really opened my eyes to God's heart regarding the eternal punishment of those who do not inherit eternity.

(Quick disclaimer: I don't believe that Hell will last forever, so when I talk about it, I’m not referring to being eternally tortured.)

When you are in a spirit of utter competition against those you're playing with (like with my dad and cousin), trouncing your fellow players is a feeling to relish and milk for all it's worth.

On the other hand, when your opponents are your best friends and the spirit in which you are playing is a caring and friendly one, then a totally-dominating victory is, at best, bittersweet: yeah, you win, but at the cost of everyone enjoying an equally competitive game.

It was, by far, the least I have ever enjoyed winning a game of Monopoly.

But I'm glad that it happened, not because I won, but because it opened my eyes up regarding the Father's heart for the people that will be eternally destroyed when he rains down “fire from heaven” (Revelation 20:9) to destroy the wicked.

Yeah, you win and rid the universe of sin, but at the cost of so many of those whom you loved, and it's a completely bittersweet victory because of their loss.

A God who “will wipe away every tear from [our] eyes” (Revelation 7:17) is not going to be celebrating -- or even neutral -- when it comes to destroying many that he loves so much, especially after the cost he has paid (through his Son's sacrifice) for their redemption.

But what about this life?

Regarding what goes on in this life, and all of its tragedies, that’s one of those mysteries that we may never truly figure out -- why bad things happen to good people and vice versa.

No offense to the grieving intended, but just because something tragic happens does not mean that God intended it to happen.

Does tragic stuff happen? Absolutely.

Can God use it for our good? Yes. (Romans 8:28)

Does God cause it to happen because that's what he prefers? An emphatic "No!" is the only response that I can find... (Lamentations 3:33, Ezekiel 18:32)

To borrow the wording of someone that I know who has suffered terrible loss -- twice -- yes, it would “seem” as if that was the case, that their death (or accident, illness, etc.) was what was preferred. However, I have to point back to Ezekiel 18:32 where God said,

“I have no pleasure in the death of one who dies.”

You know what that means? He has no pleasure in death. NONE!

God loves the world so much that he gave his only Son for us (John 3:16), and He relates to us as children (Matthew 7:11), so for God to rejoice in someone’s death would be akin to a loving parent enjoying the fact that their child has died.

I realize that it doesn’t always “seem” this way, especially when we're in the midst of the tragedy, but I think that’s the “comfort of the scriptures” (Romans 15:4), that even when our perspective is blurred and foggy due to circumstances or emotions running high, that we still can look to the scriptures and see what God has revealed to us about Himself and His good intentions for us (Jeremiah 29:11), even though bad things do happen...