Desires and Lent

Being Fat Tuesday, a lot of people are giving in, chowing down, indulging, gorging, and satisfying certain desires that they will keep in check for the next month.

Tomorrow, we will greet the season of Lent and many of us will give up something.  Why will we give up something?  What is the purpose?  I am proposing that one of the purposes of Lent is to help us reconnect with our True Desires.

When speaking of desires, I am talking about all kinds of desires.  The following are some of the questions we might ask as we delay gratification and are forced to listen to our true selves.

What am I looking to find?  What am I “thirsting” for?  What sparks such a fire inside?  What desire is seeking satisfaction?  What will truly satisfy that desire?  What was designed to fulfill the desire?  Can the desire be fulfilled here and now?  Should I try to kill the desire?  Should I seek to understand the desire, to make some sense of it?  Should I ignore it and try to keep moving?  

I think we are filled with a sense of strength when we choose to listen to the voice that speaks through us as we voluntarily delay gratification.  

Think of your strongest desire – maybe one that gets the best of you and keeps you from reaching your potential.  

I usually blindly give in and do my part in the line of falling dominoes.  Always, there is the initial spark that sends a fire through my body.  Always.  An image.  A sound.  A thought.  A feeling.  A smell. Something triggers something within me that wants to be fulfilled.  The next step is a conscious decision to satisfy the desire now, plan to satisfy it later, deny it, ignore it, or seek to hear what it is saying.  

I think fasting (food, TV, music, alcohol, smoking, etc.) is one of the ways that we begin to listen to what our desires are saying instead of just giving in to them in the way we know how.  The way we fulfill our desires is diverse, and the affects are diverse.  But, fasting – especially the season of Lent – can remind us to listen to those desires and to seek to understand how to fulfill them or how to live in the here and now without fulfilling them.  

Change in Perspective

Taking a bit of time today to give my mind a break from house-hunting.  Emily and I have been researching homes in Boise and we decided to use today to clear our minds.  For the past couple of days, I have been consumed by houses and as Emily and I were talking last night, she pointed out that it might be good to take a mental break.  I’ll come back to it tomorrow, but for today I’m going to focus on other tasks and consciously push away house-related thoughts.

I hope to gain a renewed perspective as we resume our search.  Before we started looking at houses, we verbalized what we wanted and didn’t want.  We want to live in an area where we will be forced to interact with our neighbors – a neighborhood!  And we want to live in a relatively modest home.  We want to own the house.  We don’t want the house to own us.  We want to determine our lifestyle.  We don’t want our mortgage to determine our lifestyle. We want to be able to buy a house on one income.  We don’t want to be trapped by this purchase.  We would like to live in a culturally and economically diverse area.  We don’t want to live in an area where everyone looks like we do.  We don’t want to buy out of fear.  We want to feel a sense of peace and purpose about the house we buy.  We don’t want to be unavailable to others because we are so occupied with our house (working to pay for it, etc.)

By the time I stopped looking for houses last night, I was drooling over a beautiful house that was about $80,000 out of our price range. Now, the truth is that we could potentially afford such a house.  But we would have to sacrifice other goals and values to get that house.  Em finally took the computer away and shut it off.  I needed that.  I needed her to remind me of our priorities.

Today, I am taking some time to review those priorities and Em and I are going to take some time to pray together about this house.  Granted, buying a house is not the most important decision in our lives, but it might rank in the top 10.  We want to be good stewards.  In the end, none of what we have really belongs to us.  We’re just taking care of it and using it – hopefully, wisely.

I needed to be reminded that we are just stewards.  This decision is about more than what we want.  What we want is part of the equation, but we also feel a greater responsibility.

I’m looking forward to tackling the housing market with a renewed perspective.

Quoting Carrey

“I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”  Jim Carrey

A Bittersweet Remembrance

Today’s edition of the Washington Post featured a front-page article about the neighborhood Emily and I live in – the Shaw neighborhood.  After reading the article, I began to rethink our decision to live here.  The article is entitled “A Bittersweet Remembrance” and highlights the gentrification of the neighborhood, from the perspective of black residents who have lived here for generations.  

Here are a few excerpts from the article:

“They [featured black residents] are among the many homeowners who have lived in Shaw for decades – through the 1968 riots, the crack epidemic, black flight.  They are there now for the rebound.  Their homes have mushroomed in value, and they are adapting to new neighbors, many of them white and more affluent.”

One of those interviewed, Moses Lofton, “recalls an encounter he had one afternoon when it was still warm, an encounter not unfamiliar:  An African American woman stopped for a red light and called to him as he swept the sidewalk in front of his steps.  Was he the owner?  He nodded.  Don’t sell, she said.  No matter what they offer you.  Pass it on, keep it in the family.  She drove away, Lofton said, but the message stayed: Keep the neighborhood as it was.  Keep it black.”

“[Lofton] has no problem with whites…and he appreciates Shaw’s new-found diversity.  He’s just sorry blacks are leaving.”

“[Norman Wood] had hoped for a diverse community, but the free market has overwhelmed his vision: Developers have converted rentals into condominiums, forcing African Americans to move; and black homeowners, enticed by rising property values, have sold and left for the suburbs.”

“Until a few years ago, said [Harry “Sonny”] Brodgins, 54, the area was entirely black, and a perpetual street carnival.  ‘Like Mardi Gras,’ he said.  In the bad years, yes, there was drug dealing and violence, like the night his brother was shot twice in the leg.  But it still was community.  ‘I knew everyone,’ said Brodgins.  These days, he said, an old friend greets him as the ‘last of the Mohicans.’  Whites live up the street, down the street, in the next block.  They are mostly young professionals.”  

“When Brodgins steps outside these days, the stoops are empty, the sidewalk is barren and there is no one to talk to.  He finds company around the corner where people still congregate outside the shuttered Howard Theater, under the rusting blue ‘Jimmy’s Golden Q’ sign, a vestige of a long-closed pool hall.”

“Brodgins’s new neighbors seem to be in a hurry, he said, often checking him out warily, if acknowledging his presence at all.  ‘They’re the strangers,’ he said.  ‘I’m here.  I got here before you got here.  Why can’t you at least be cordial?’”

---

When Emily and I moved to DC, we looked for a place with diversity, a place that might feel like a community.  In less than two years, four of the six remaining black families on our block have moved away.  Some moved because they couldn’t afford the taxes on their property. Some moved because they couldn’t pass up the money.  Honestly, the people who left are just about the only people on our street who would take the time to talk and be neighborly.  The neighborhood is leaving and being replaced by affluent individuals who like to be left alone and seem to post an unwritten sign: “By invitation only.”  Whereas sitting on one’s stoop is like posting a welcome sign, the doors on our street open and close quickly, and social gatherings take place behind those locked doors, keeping the “unwanted” away.

Perhaps Emily and I moved to the area for different reasons than the people moving in now.  We wanted to get to know the people who lived there, not push them away.  

Months ago, I helped rescue an elderly woman from a burning house.  She happened to be black in a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood on Capitol Hill.  As I waited with the woman for the paramedics, a man commented that he was glad the house burned because now the drug dealers would leave.  The fire was helping clean up the block.  I was incredulous and irate.  And even though I am a pacifist, I wanted to do him bodily injury.  

True, the man’s words were harsh. But how many people moving into traditionally black neighborhoods are just waiting until the blacks leave, or at least until the “undesirable” blacks leave?   I don’t want to be part of that movement.  I don’t want to be the guy who buys a house in a run-down neighborhood and waits for all of the “trash” to leave so home values will increase.  People are not trash, regardless of income, race, culture, etc.  People are not problems.  

I know neighborhoods change and go through cycles, but I resent those who profit at the expense of others.  I resent those who disregard others.  How do I channel this passion in a productive way?  How do I criticize by creating?  Maybe I should sit on our stoop.

Office Space

I love the idea of having a multi-site office. Currently, I am working from my office at National Cathedral. From my table and chair on the 7th floor, also known as the observation gallery, I have an amazing view of the city, not to mention some impressive flying buttresses in the foreground. This is one of my favorite offices because it gives me a different vantage point, above the streets and houses and buildings and other stimuli that crowd the mind. Someday I’ll have to have a “real” office, but for now I’m enjoying the flexibility. Maybe I’ll find a way to do multi-site counseling. Not sure how that would work, but I’ll probably try it.

Don't Be Put Off

Don’t be put off or offended when people reject you.  

If I could just learn this and be okay with rejection.  Honestly, most of the time I reject people, it has nothing to do with them.  It usually has more to do with me.

To go along with intentional intrusion, I just wonder how many amazing opportunities and meaningful relationships I miss because I am too easily offended.  

Keep loving.  Keep serving.  Keep seeking.  Keep calling even when the calls aren’t returned.  Keep asking.  Keep on.  And remember to always err on the side of grace.

How to do this? I don’t know.  Just do it.  At least try. I’m going to make a point of it.

Intentional Intrusion

Intentional Intrusion: the act of pursuing others’ best even when they don’t ask for it.  Do we care too much?  Or, not enough?  Life in DC is very different from life in the west for myriad reasons, but one of the most striking differences is the distance people put among themselves.  Personal bubbles expand when you enter the District and a smile and “hello” when meeting someone on the sidewalk will likely conjure up negative ideas: What does that guy want?  Why did he look at me?  Please stay out of my world!

Granted, this is a stereotype, but I also live this reality every day.  In fact, I’ve begun to think like someone who has lived here for two years.  I am suspicious of kindness and my personal bubble has expanded.

What’s the problem?  Expanding personal bubbles = more lonely, isolated people.  Sure, it’s easy to find lots to do and to surround yourself with people.  But much of DC is about networking and relationships often begin and grow based on network net worth.  Happy hours abound as do social gatherings, but how many people distract themselves to avoid feeling lonely?  I don’t know the statistics, but I do know that burnout comes quickly in the District.  Wells run dry and people look back and wonder at what happened to their lives.

How many people feel truly known?  

Have you ever had someone ignore your personal bubble?  Sometimes this can be negative.  For example, you are in an elevator making your way to the 10th floor.  The elevator stops at the 5th floor and a gentleman walks into the elevator.  The doors close and you are the only two people on the elevator. Now, elevators are not exactly the easiest social settings to maneuver, but imagine that the gentleman makes his way to where you are standing and brushes up against you.  Imagine if he stood in front of you and looked at you.  Yeah, creepy and wrong, but you get the point.

However, negative personal-bubble-intrusion aside, I think there is a place for invading people’s lives.  Is it okay to watch a friend walk into the depths of depression, even after s/he has told you to get lost?  Is it okay to watch a friend make a life-altering decision without intervening?  

I think the intrusion must be customized based on the nature of the relationship and type of problem.  This can easily become an excuse to “stay out of their business” or “let them work out the problem themselves”.  But I think there is a lot of room for increased interest in our relationships.  How much do we care about the people who are close to us?  Are we willing to share the truth along with the grace?   Are we willing to put ourselves between them and costly mistakes?  Are we willing to be uncomfortable and uncertain?  

I think this is a deeper love, a passionate pursuit for the hearts and lives of others.  A pursuit for the best in others.  It’s really not okay to watch as others flounder.  It’s really not okay to be put off by personal bubbles.  It’s not okay to just leave people alone.

I know personality comes into play and I haven’t thought about all of the ramifications, but if you have ever had someone intentionally intrude in your life – for your best – then you know what I’m talking about.  After you weather the storm, rather, after the person weathers the storm with you, a bond will form unlike any other in your life.  It makes a difference when someone stands up for you and pushes through for you.  

How many movies and songs echo this theme, where the hero/heroine won’t take no for an answer and inspires the best in those around him/her?  Often, this is played out in the relationship between lovers.  Someone in love will not take no for an answer.  They keep seeking for a way to win the heart of their beloved.  Something pulls at our heartstrings when we see this kind of love, this intentional intrusion, acted out before us.  And it is a gift that only you can give because no one has the relationships that you have, and no one can make the difference you can make in the lives of those around you.

Listening to Our Souls

Life without TV.  Okay, I didn’t think it would be this hard.  In lieu of my recent decision to give up TV for four days, I am realizing that I rely on TV to keep me going.  TV has been part of my mental health plan.  I used to wonder how the Long Beach students I worked with could listen to music day and night.  Literally, they intentionally ran sound waves through their head at all times.  They were very uncomfortable with silence and would do just about anything to avoid it.  

Today, the silence of our apartment started to creep into me.  I needed some noise.  Why?  I used to be able to be alone and learn from the silence.  Now, the silence is intimidating.  I’m not sure what to do with it.  I have to relearn the art of listening.  When we listen to others, we have to create a space that allows for communication.  What about communicating with ourselves?  What kind of space do we create to listen to our heart, our true selves?  Why do we resist the voice of what we might call our soul?

There is a psalm in which the writer expresses his desire to be searched and known at the deepest level.  Am I willing to be searched and known, or will I run from the settings where this is likely to occur?  It’s crazy to think how something as simple as turning the TV off has reminded me to listen to my soul.  I have a lot of catching up to do!!

Writing it Through

I’m wired for writing.  My wife processes information most effectively when she talks it through with others.  I like talking it through, but my preferred modus operandi is writing it through.  I am most effective and most “me” when I take the time to write my mind.  The past few days of writing have reminded me not to neglect the act, even when I don’t feel like making the effort to do it.  

Writing helps me think.  Writing helps me move through problems and into solutions.  Writing opens my mind.  Writing takes me down cognitive roads that I don’t otherwise travel.  Writing makes me more alert to others.  Writing often serves as the conduit between my head and my heart.  Writing is my way of inventing.  

More Questions Than Answers

More questions than answers.  What would happen if we asked more questions?  Why don’t we ask more questions?  How would people respond if we asked more questions?  What would blogs look like if writers asked more questions?  

I have a lot of questions, but I refrain from asking many of them.  One of the things I love about little children is that they ask questions about everything.  They are so inquisitive!  When did we stop being openly inquisitive?  Why did we stop?  What would life be like if we regained and rediscovered our inquisitive selves?  Who really has the answers?  

Is the journey more important than the destination?  Is the process more important than the product?

Would we share more with others and in turn receive more from them if we learned to question again?  

Life Reformation

Life Reformation. I’m not sure why, but last night I felt the need to do a little bit of spiritual reformation.  By this morning, the idea had morphed into more of a Life Reformation.

From the Online Etymology Dictionary, I found the following:

reform (v.)
c.1300, "to convert into another and better form," from O.Fr. reformer (12c.), from L. reformare "to form again, change, alter," from re- "again" + formare "to form." The noun is 1663, from the verb. Meaning "to bring (a person) away from an evil course of life" is recorded from 1413; of governments, institutions, etc., from 1432. Reformed churches (1588) usually are Calvinist as opposed to Lutheran. Reformed Judaism (1843) is a movement initiated in Germany by Moses Mendelssohn (1729-86). Reformatory "house of correction for juveniles" first recorded 1834. Reform school is attested from 1859.

I love the idea of converting into another and better form.  This week, Em is away in Atlanta and I have decided to dedicate a chunk of my time to life reformation tasks.  I’m not sure what these tasks include, but I know that in order to convert into another and better form, I’m going to have to make some changes.  

One of those changes revolves around the three electronic boxes interspersed throughout our apartment.  Yes, by a strange turn of events, we have three TV’s, all hooked up to cable.  TV has been consuming my life, influencing me, and changing me into another form.  A better form?  I think not.  

So, I’ve already begun to cut TV out of my life, at least until Friday.  I actually lived for about three years (during college) without watching TV.  Looking back, those were some of the most productive, exciting, and challenging days of my life.  After a meeting this morning, I returned home and found myself subconsciously reaching for the remote control.  I stopped myself just in time and realized how “connected” I am to the TV.  

I think part of my life transformation is going to include mixing things up so that I can begin to see life differently.  

Part of my plan for this evening is to read, yes, read.  And I’m focusing in on some spiritual material that I would like to see become ingrained in my life.  Who knows who I will be by Friday!

Defining Words

I am letting myself be excited about the next step in my life.  One of the aspects of NNU www.nnu.edu that inspires me is their philosophy.  I think it is a necessity for organizations/institutions to be intentional about the words they use to define themselves.  Here are the words that define NNU:

Christlike Character: To demonstrate ethical behavior, love others, respect others, and represent Christ to the world.

Academic Excellence: To demonstrate an understanding and appreciation of the liberal arts, expertise in a major field of study, and professional growth.

Creative Engagement: To apply natural gifts and gained knowledge to respond creatively to life: producing original works of art and inspired solutions to problems – in the home, workplace, church, and greater community.

Social Responsiveness: To be faithful stewards of knowledge, skills, and resources, encouraging social justice and God’s mercy.

I love the idea of Creative Engagement.  One of the aspects I most appreciate about our church home in DC www.theaterchurch.com is the redemption of creativity.  Other churches, such as Mosaic in Los Angeles, are also emphasizing creativity in the lives of their people.  Our pastor, Mark Batterson, writes and talks about criticizing by creating.  What a positive way to solve problems. I want to be on the creative bandwagon, and I want to be involved in revolutionizing this world through words – words inspired by the Word!

Accepted!

Accepted!  Yesterday, I received notice from Northwest Nazarene University that I have been accepted to their Counseling program!  This is the culmination of four of planning and preparation.  One of the amazing things about yesterday’s notice is that NNU doesn’t begin their application interviews until early March!  

Emily and I have been overwhelmed at how accommodating the counseling program has been.  I interviewed them in November and fell in love with the professors and the culture of the program.  After that, I sent in all of the application materials and asked them when they might be able to give me a decision.  Because NNU has a competitive program and an extremely in-depth  admissions process, they explained that I probably wouldn’t know until the middle of March or later.  

I explained to them that Emily and I were confident enough about this next step in our lives that we had already given notice to Emily’s job and I didn’t take any more classes at the graduate school I had been going to.  Basically, we felt that God had guided us to the decision to move back to Idaho and it was our role to follow his lead.  Couldn’t they let us know a bit earlier?  Or, would we have to just wait?

To make this story shorter, the first admissions committee decided to let me do a phone interview about two weeks ago. Even so, they said I wouldn’t know their final decision until mid-March (their admissions committee doesn’t meet in February).  

Last week, about the time that Emily and I felt peace that everything was going to work out, I found out from the counseling program’s secretary that they had called a special meeting for the admissions committee to make a final decision!  Yesterday, on President’s Day, I received official notice welcoming me to the program.

It certainly feels good to be accepted, but the truth is that I was so sure that I was supposed to be at NNU that I had already come up with a plan to petition in case of rejection.  I was going to prove to them that I am supposed to be there.  Looks like I won’t have to, now!

"Good morning, lad"

“Good morning, lad! That’s a happy face your wearin’!”

This is how I was greeted as I sat down in the Quiet Car of a Philadelphia-bound Acela Amtrak train. The encounter was pleasant and inspired me to wear a smile more often, for the sake of others if not for myself.

I’m now traveling well above the speed limit for automobiles and the weekend’s snowfall has created a white blanket for the blurring landscape.

Today is my first “real” train ride. Sure, I’ve been transported by D.C.’s, NY’s, LA’s, Chicago’s, and London’s train systems, but there is something different about traveling above ground for over 100 miles. I feel like a little kid today, and even though I’m traveling for work, this feels like an adventure. I’m learning a lot of new things, doing something I’ve never done before, and seeing Philadelphia for the first time. I’m really enjoying life and feel overwhelmed by gratitude to God.

Plus, it’s sunny today and if anyone was every solar-powered, it’s me. I am a sun-worshipper as well as a Son-worshipper! I love light, especially natural light. And I love blue skies. I made sure to find a window seat, and not just a window seat, but a seat with a full window. The first seat I sat down in only had half a window’s view, so I made the move and I’m loving it. Wow!

I really love traveling and moving around. It’s in my blood. I love adventures. I love learning new things and meeting new people, like the Irish (?) guy with a cane who called me “lad” and now sits across from me.

Glory! That’s what my friend Zaden from bible college would say when he was overwhelmed by God’s goodness. And I’ll echo that! Glory! Glory!

Know Me

Last night I couldn’t sleep.  Em and I stayed up to watch the Duke Blue Devils defeat the North Carolina Tarheels!  I have to admit that I live vicariously through J.J. Redick.  I love that guy – really!

After watching the Blue Devils squeak out the win, I was unbearably restless. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I grabbed a National Geographic and headed into the living room.  Once there, I couldn’t concentrate and found myself trying to validate my life.  J.J. Redick is living my dream.  I wanted to go to Duke and work miracles like J.J.  Instead, I didn’t play a lick of organized ball after high school.  To this day, I wonder, what if?  

Movies like The Rookie bring tears to my eyes every time I watch them.  In fact, I often sob.  Something in me is unfinished.  

So, last night, unable to sleep or read, I opened up the doorway to the past.  In the back of our entertainment center are several tapes from my days playing high school ball.  I grabbed one and watched with anticipation.  Why with anticipation?  I mean, I played in those games.  I knew how they were going to end.  

Even so, I found my way to a 1995 District Tournament game versus the Murtaugh Red Devils – our bitter rivals.  We ended up winning the game and only needed to win one more game to secure an automatic bid to the State Tournament.  Murtaugh ended up working their way through the loser’s bracket to play us again.  We started well and with only 6 minutes left in the 4th quarter we led by 7 points.  Then it all fell apart.  In the closing minutes, I went to the line twice for one-on-one opportunities.  I missed the front end twice.  Being a high 80s, low 90s free throw shooter, I expected to watch myself make the free throws.  It was agony watching those shots rim off into the hands of our rivals.  Several missed jumpers later and we were done.  We ended up losing to the Red Devils again and watched our State Champion hopes fade away.  The year before, I broke my arm in the District Championship game, and the year before that we lost in double overtime in a game that would have secured a State Tournament birth.  There would be no next time.  My dream would remain unfulfilled.

As I sat staring at the television last night, I could again feel the pain of coming up short.  In lieu of the recent Super Bowl, I’m sure that I have no idea how bad coming up short can really feel, but I know something of it.

And I want to do something about it.  I want to play them again. I want another shot.  I want to be somebody.  I want to win.  I want to be known as a winner.  I want to know I am a winner.  Am I watching too much Sports Center?  I know we all make fun of Napoleon’s uncle Rico who is living in the 80s, but how many of us are living our lives in the shadows of unfulfilled expectations?  Broken promises?  Dreams deferred or out of reach?  We may not talk about our days in high school, but when we are left alone with ourselves, when our deepest desires well up within us, how many of us feel the ache of not reaching our goals or achieving our dreams?  How many of us fear that we have not lived as we could?  How many of us wonder if it is too late?

I wonder.

It is easy enough to just push the desire away and take care of business – work, start a family, pursue relationships, etc.  But will I ever be able to dull the ache?  Will I always be haunted by what might have been?  Is it enough to rationalize the past as part of a greater plan?  Or, can I resolve this?  Should I resolve this?  Should I let it go?  Can I let it go without killing a part of me?  Can I be me without pursuing this part of me?  What does pursuing my own heart look like?  Can if find peace through something else?  Someone else?

I still wonder.  

Trailblazing

I’ve never thought of myself as capable of being “bored”. In fact, I’ve always disdained the word. I can always think of a thousand things to do to occupy my time. But, occupying my time may just be a guise to avoid “boredom”. Being busy – occupied – distracts me from listening to my heart, which often cries out for more meaning, for adventures, for trailblazing.

I am most alive when I am in the wilderness. A recent trip to the Bitterroot Mountains in western Montana reminded me of the effect of nature on my persona. I was driving over snow-covered roads (if they can be called roads) through the mountains and my heart started racing. What would I see around the bend? What would I see in the dense foliage? What would I discover? And my heart ascended in praise to God. It just happened. I didn’t plan it, but I found myself communing with the Lord, expressing my thanks for His creation.

As good as I felt, I wanted to share the moment with people I loved. I called my wife and other kindred spirits, inviting them to join me in celebration. I felt like I just had to tell someone about what I was seeing. It was too good to keep to myself.

This experience awakened something inside of me – a yearning to live more fully, to engage each moment, to live in the here and now.

Honestly, I am itching to get to Idaho because I feel like life is really going to start once we get there. But life is happening right now and I don’t want to miss divine moments because I am preoccupied with future plans.

Nothing happens next. Everything happens now.

The only place I can be is right here, right now, and regardless of what I am doing, it has immeasurable, eternal worth if I bring God into the experience. Instead of occupying my mind or getting busy, I can view even menial tasks as part of a much larger story, a story that I see unfolding but don’t know what is on the next page or how it ends. That’s exciting. That’s trailblazing!