answers
Well……….. remember what I said last week about “as long as I have my chair and my coffee” that everything would be alright. I have my coffee. Guess what’s missing from this picture? That’s right…tell them what they’ve won Johnny. Crime of Crimes…my chair is gone. I’m trying to be optimistic and think that perhaps it went to some Smithsonian tribute to Starbucks. The whole feel to this place has changed, probably for the better I guess. The baristas really like the change and since they’re the ones who look at it every day, I’m thinking they have a better handle on it than I do. It’s a visual reminder to me that change doesn’t always turn out the way you had anticipated. I’m living that right now anyway so I might as well live it here too.
Last week I also shared that I was wrestling with the question “Is anonymity too high a price to pay for significance?”. One more week of pondering has also resolved that question for me as well. All of my preconceived ideas on what my answer might be disappeared along with my chair. The answer is
an uncomfortably honest “Yes”. It is too high a price. I’d like to think that it’s not. I’d like to think that I could humbly and quietly fade into the sunset anonymously after a life of accomplishment, but that would be a major league lie. It might sound less than pastoral to you, but maybe it’s the artist part of me that seeks to be known. Actually it’s all of me. All of me wants to be known as having contributed something of significance.
I want people to know that I was and am good at what I do. I want them to know how amazing the church is that I serve with. I want them to know the odds that we’ve overcome that most others will never even attempt to. I want people to know how amazing Jesus is and how fulfilled a life can be when it recklessly follows His lead. I want people to know how amazing my wife is and how complete a marriage can be when you’re focused on the same faith, the same goals, the same life. I want people to know what happens when you get over yourself and lose your individuality and your right to the remote and your right to find yourself and whatever other lie we’ve swallowed and recklessly pursue life together. I want people to know that when life gets tough, you suck it up and get tougher. There are no unwilling victims, no matter how much your life might suck. Jesus eliminates all claim to being a victim.
If I were honest, I’d allow myself to understand and own the reality that it takes a voice to make these things known and it takes a name to validate the voice. After all, If I wasn’t interested in having a voice and a name, I’d just write all of this stuff down and file it on my laptop. Instead I’m sending it out on Al Gore’s technology for all to see. Obviously I am not interested in anonymity.
I’ve spent these past 4 weeks attempting to rest on a “sabbatical”. I’ll be honest again and tell you that as a “sabbatical” it has failed miserably. I’m not really rested. I’m not really refreshed. I’ll tell you that most of the reasons are my own. I’m too attached to my wife to spend time alone. I’m too attached to my granddaughter to get away. Most of what I thought I’d accomplish I didn’t. Don’t weep for me though. The most important thing I needed from these past 4 weeks is an answer. I may have lost my chair in the process, but I found my answer.
Last week I also shared that I was wrestling with the question “Is anonymity too high a price to pay for significance?”. One more week of pondering has also resolved that question for me as well. All of my preconceived ideas on what my answer might be disappeared along with my chair. The answer is
an uncomfortably honest “Yes”. It is too high a price. I’d like to think that it’s not. I’d like to think that I could humbly and quietly fade into the sunset anonymously after a life of accomplishment, but that would be a major league lie. It might sound less than pastoral to you, but maybe it’s the artist part of me that seeks to be known. Actually it’s all of me. All of me wants to be known as having contributed something of significance.
I want people to know that I was and am good at what I do. I want them to know how amazing the church is that I serve with. I want them to know the odds that we’ve overcome that most others will never even attempt to. I want people to know how amazing Jesus is and how fulfilled a life can be when it recklessly follows His lead. I want people to know how amazing my wife is and how complete a marriage can be when you’re focused on the same faith, the same goals, the same life. I want people to know what happens when you get over yourself and lose your individuality and your right to the remote and your right to find yourself and whatever other lie we’ve swallowed and recklessly pursue life together. I want people to know that when life gets tough, you suck it up and get tougher. There are no unwilling victims, no matter how much your life might suck. Jesus eliminates all claim to being a victim.
If I were honest, I’d allow myself to understand and own the reality that it takes a voice to make these things known and it takes a name to validate the voice. After all, If I wasn’t interested in having a voice and a name, I’d just write all of this stuff down and file it on my laptop. Instead I’m sending it out on Al Gore’s technology for all to see. Obviously I am not interested in anonymity.
I’ve spent these past 4 weeks attempting to rest on a “sabbatical”. I’ll be honest again and tell you that as a “sabbatical” it has failed miserably. I’m not really rested. I’m not really refreshed. I’ll tell you that most of the reasons are my own. I’m too attached to my wife to spend time alone. I’m too attached to my granddaughter to get away. Most of what I thought I’d accomplish I didn’t. Don’t weep for me though. The most important thing I needed from these past 4 weeks is an answer. I may have lost my chair in the process, but I found my answer.
Comments