Content Under Pressure

Today’s a different kind of day.

For one, it’s a new day.  It’s only by grace that I’m even alive to write this, so let me go ahead and acknowledge that right off the bat.

If you’ve followed these Lent posts thus far (I thought about renaming them to ‘Tortured Soul: the series”), I hope that you’ve not gone away from them depressed.  My hope is that you’ve been encouraged and challenged, and perhaps given a new outlook on what it means to participate in the Lenton season. Hang in there.  I don’t want to spoil it all for you, but the end result is….

**SPOILER ALERT**

He is risen.

Yes, He is risen indeed.  Obviously we’ll talk about this next month, but I am reminded of it today.  He is risen today.  Sure, we’ll celebrate it in a magnificent way on Easter Sunday, but for me, focusing on his resurrection today gives me hope.  I was reading Romans 5 yesterday, and I was comforted by these words:

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.              - Romans 5:1-5 [NIV]

Hope never disappoints.  Sure, I’ve been struggling the last few weeks.  I hit a low point last weekend (see Monday’s post).  But, God does not leave me there alone.

He hasn’t left you alone either.  So, rejoice with me, wherever you’re at.  Regardless of your circumstances.  Regardless of your struggles.  Remember…

He is good, and today is a new day.

As I’ve asked previously, what are you learning during this season of Lent?  How can I pray for you specifically?

image: sam

I’m learning a lot during this season, both about God and myself.  For that I’m extremely grateful.

And I’m also quite sore, frankly.  It’s been hard to keep posting these Lent posts, but I’m trying to provide an authentic narrative of my experience in participation of Christ’s death.  This has proven to be a trying time.  But, I’m confident that by sharing in our sufferings we can encourage one another.

As I mentioned a while back, when God peels away the layers that cloud our vision of him it’s painful.   These layers run deep in my life, and specifically, I think God is peeling away one in particular:  appearance.

I simply care about what others think.

I have insecurities just like everyone else.  I often struggle with the thought that I’m never taken seriously, mainly because I’m requested to say something funny by others, forcing me (in my mind) to go into performance-mode.  But, my go-to compensatory move when insecure is to always bring humor to the situation.  So, this plays right into an already bad hand.  I am quick-witted and sarcastic.  I used to think this was possibly a spiritual gift…turns out it’s not.  Any time I’m out and go into this mode, whether for the entertainment of others or insecure compensation, I return home depressed.  It’s a vicious cycle that runs me into the ground mentally and emotionally.

But why am I such a slave to this?  Why do I care so much about what others think of me?  I know that my identity is in Christ and not other people.

Or do I?

I am petitioning to God that he would reveal this issue in my life completely.  That he would help me overcome the performance.  Besides, it’s not a performance he’s after from me — it’s relationship.  This is a core issue for me, and I am grateful that he’s showing me that.  Again, when the layers are pulled back it’s painful.  But, what I hope comes from this will be cause for celebration.  I’m trying to start doing that now.

For I know Sunday’s coming.

What are you learning about God and yourself during this season?  How can I pray for you?

image: sam

I got pulled over last night…

Apparently I ran a stop sign.  I’ll admit up front that I did not come to a complete stop.  It was a total California-roll.  I don’t recall ever running a stop sign in my 13 years of driving.  Well, until last night.

My wife thought it was fairly amusing until she saw the look on my face.  You see, she not only reads my posts.  She lives with the omissions.  Lucky her…

This season of Lent is proving to be unlike any other.  I hope it’s because I’m actually asking God to kill things in my life that keep me from him.  Sure, I was serious when I talked about needing to participate in Christ’s death. But honestly, it looks a lot better written out than lived out.  This is painful stuff, man.  I’m either going to be of greater faith and character, or clinically depressed. I’m not sure which.

I don’t want to over-spiritualize this, but in a way I feel like getting this ticket is a reminder to me that some things need to die.  I immediately felt entitled to a verbal warning when the officer walked up to my car.  And I can’t imagine why, really.  I did break the law, after all.  I then pleaded my case to my wife, telling her that I’m pretty sure the car came to a stop (this is where her amusement started).  I started to blame her for distracting me, but almost immediately stopped, thank goodness.  I had so many questions in the moment, but never this one:

Why couldn’t I have just taken the time to stop?

We weren’t in a hurry.  There was no traffic.  The bottom line is that I was simply not paying attention.  It’s not that I was distracted by bad things.  My wife and I were talking on our way back from dinner.  I was enjoying her companionship.  But, it was a distraction nonetheless.  My priority should have been the road. That, in turn, would have been looking out for my wife.  I think it’s the same way with Christ.  He should be my focus.  He should be important.  Distractions should step aside.  Why can’t I just take the time to stop and see him?

Be encouraged today if you feel distracted, weighed down with different things, or just worn out.  I am all of these lately.  Let us be reminded to take the time to stop and refocus on the road.  The one he’s laid out for us.  Remember, it’s narrow, folks.  I would appreciate your prayers during this hard(but hopefully fruitful) season as I pray for you as well.

Speaking of which…how can I pray for you?

image: sam

My wife and I were talking yesterday about Lent after part one of my toast to death.  She asked a common question:

So, what are you giving up for Lent?

I’ve been asked that question for as long as I’ve known about Lent.  But, I don’t think that I’ve thought about it in such a way as I have this particular season.  As I said yesterday, things just don’t need to be given up.

Things in us need to die.

I long thought of Lent in the past as a progress report of sorts for the first quarter of the year, charting out one’s progress of their New Year’s resolutions.   You know, sort of a “how are you doing so far?” kind of deal.  Are you still working out a month later?  Are you eating better?  Sure, it led to Easter, which provided more clarity.  But, I think I heard more about what people were sacrificing than of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

But, the season of Lent is about death, and ultimately new life.  You see, we cannot raise things from the dead.  Only God can.  But, as long as we just put off certain behaviors and tendencies we can revive them at a later date.  These things need to die, and that can only happen if we ourselves die to them.  And, when we do that it hurts.  The layers go deep, and when they’re peeled away it’s devastating.  It kills us.  But, God raises dead things.  With the same power that raised Jesus on the third day, we are raised again into a new life with him.  Sure, it’s not free from temptation or trials.

But, a free life it is.

Well, the season of Lent has officially started.   Christians will, for the next forty days, follow Jesus through his suffering and ultimately his death.  We do this in order to truly have something to rejoice in this Easter.  Lent gives us the opportunity to do some things that we’re normally horrendous at:  grieving and remembering.

Henri Nouwen has this to say about it:

A Prayer for Lent, by Henri Nouwen

How often have I lived through these weeks without paying much attention to penance, fasting, and prayer? How often have I missed the spiritual fruits of the season without even being aware of it?  But how can I ever really celebrate Easter without observing Lent?  How can I rejoice fully in your Resurrection when I have avoided participating in your death?  Yes, Lord, I have to die – with you, through you, and in you – and thus become ready to recognize you when you appear to me in your Resurrection.  There is so much in me that needs to die: false attachments, greed and anger, impatience and stinginess…I see clearly now how little I have died with you, really gone your way and been faithful to it.  O Lord, make this Lenten season different from the other ones.  Let me find you again.  Amen.

A Cry for Mercy:  Prayers from the Genesee; Image Books, 2002

Let this season be different than others.  Perhaps you’re like me and there needs to be a lot of death in your life.  Death from pride, selfishness, fear, anger.  Ask God to peel away the layers that cloud your vision of him.  Really, ask him.  When he does (and he will), ask him to do it every day.  You and I both need it, there’s no question.

But, do we really want it?