Why 2020 Might Be the Most Important Year of Our Lives

 

Pacific City is one of my favorite stretches of beach on the Oregon Coast. I love climbing the huge sand dune there and overlooking the frothy, wind-foamed waves. But at the height of this peaceful viewpoint there is a sign as out of place as a ringtone in the midst of a lullaby.

“Danger!” it proclaims. “Beware of unstable areas and shifting sand.” It seems dramatic, and a definite fun-killer, but when you learn the back story—how many people have fallen off the unstable bluff and drowned—you realize the kindness of such a sign. It’s not a disruption, but a revelation.

And that what I’ve come to realize 2020 has been for me.

 

I never would have said my faith was in my freedom. 

I never would have claimed my hope was in the predictability of my life and job. 

I never would have admitted that I found my joy in what I could accomplish.

 

But my emotions this year have often revealed it for me. I have certainly felt the unstable areas and shifting sands in the world around me and the ground beneath me and my heart within me. 2020 has put on display all that is unstable in this world, and all that is unstable in my heart and affections.  I certainly have not suffered like I know so many have, yet even missing my minor comforts, conveniences, and companionship has made me feel the gloom and isolation of the year. And I have had to ask myself: why is my heart so heavy when others are suffering so much more? God, where are you in 2020?

Standing atop that dune in Pacific City, if you let your eyes trail beyond the garish “Danger!” sign, you will see Haystack Rock. It is as solid and steady and unmoving as the bluff is shaky and temporary and sinking. Therein lies the symbolism of why 2020 may just be the most important year of my life. Because through all the hardship it has been like that sign, not just warning me of the dangerous ground my fleshly heart clings to, but also pointing me beyond. Pointing me to the Rock that is higher than I, who has been here this whole time.

 

My faith is not shaken, for it rests in the unshakeable God.

My joy can never dry up, for the Lord is its bottomless wellspring.

My hope cannot die, for it is in Christ.

 

“God is not dead, nor does He sleep”—even in 2020! So what greater mercy could there be than to remind me to place my hope on the solid Rock of Christ instead of the sinking sand of earthly comfort? What richer kindness could exist than for the Lord to reveal where my heart was beginning to cling to unstable ground? It is not cruel to take away the things that distract me from God, for in Him is my ultimate satisfaction.

I am reminded of why the persecuted Christians of North Korea said they were praying for us: “Because Christians in the West still have some wealth and freedom and power. Most have not yet experienced what it is like when all you have in life is God.*”

2020 has begun to answer their prayer. I am still learning to view this year and the next not so much as disruption but more as a kind revelation that all I have in life really is God. A sign warning me the unstable bluff is sinking, but also reminding me the Solid Rock still stands against the storm. What could be more important than that?

 

_______________________________________________________

*These Are the Generations, Mr. and Mrs. Bae, as told to Eric Foley

Definitely Maybe

"Maybe" is a difficult word for me.

"Definitely yes": I can plant myself deep in that solid ground, entwine my life around that anchor, and write it in permanent marker on my calendar.

"Ain't gonna happen": I can loosen my grip on the dream, rent a U-Haul to move out of that plan, and pull out the white-out to erase it from my memory.

But "maybe" is another story. Do I turn the page or not? Do I plant deeply or not? {Because spring is on its way and I need to know now...} And when do I pull out the permanent marker versus the eraser?

Yesterday the maybes were eating away at my thoughts. They were a tumble that was rapidly turning into an avalanche. "I can't decide this until I know this, and I can't know that until I figure out the other, and I can't know the other until..." It was an avalanche of unrest and disquiet until God reminded me that  I do have a lifeline: "Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you." {I Peter 5:7}

So I wrote two columns for 2017: "Maybes" and "Definites."

I filled in the columns and sat back, surprised. I was surprised by how few maybes there really were. And I  was shocked to stare at them in black and white and realize this: they were all enjoyable possibilities, but I was letting the possibility of not enjoying them steal my joy. Not only that, but I knew I couldn't do all of them and couldn't choose between them, yet I had been expending fruitless energy in worrying that God would make a mistake in choosing which things should define my year. So instead of being defined by my definites, I was trying to define my life by my maybes, and the result was an avalanche of anxiety.

The definites, on the other hand, the things I can write in permanent marker, were far more crucial than the maybes:

I will definitely not find the end of God's love this year.

Jesus will definitely not leave me.

God is definitely sanctifying and refining me.

It was a simple exercise of pen and ink, but truth was suddenly illumined.  If God has given me such solid, anchoring, permanent definites, then why don't I trust Him to define the maybes? In what universe does it make sense to let anxiety over the possibility of missing a maybe steal from the joy I could be relishing now because of the definites?

And at what point do I let anxiety over the maybes define my life? I say definitely never. Instead, I will plant myself in the love of God, anchor my soul in His faithfulness, and broadcast in permanent marker that He is good! Because He definitely is.

---

“Maybe:(,” © 2012 Priscila Tonon Ramos, used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.

What I Would Tell My Younger Self

Cherish the old.

Love the sun-fading on your quilt that speaks of sunny days stored up for Winter's chill.

Smile at the bent pages of your Bible that has fed your soul so many times.

Value the tell-tale wrinkles around the eyes that reveal someone's habitual smile.

Appreciate the outdated technology that encourages you to live real life.

Enjoy that annoying quirk because someday you will give anything to have that person annoy you one more time.

Return to the song that was the soundtrack to so many valleys and mountaintops.

Make that same-old recipe that is somehow just as good as when you were five.

Treasure who you have because they are yours.

The constant pursuit of the next new thing becomes a pursuit of newness itself. It is frivolous, fruitless, and deeply unsatisfying.

Embracing the old for contentment's sake transforms the shabby into the loved, the repetitive into the comforting, the not-good-enough into the simple joy, the despised into the treasured.

"For I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." Philippians 4:11

---

“One Big Circle- Day 05,” © 2012 Steven Worster, used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.
Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

What Would You Do for $13 Million?

 

Yesterday I learned of a baseball player who made a decision that is inciting both controversy and passion, and I am fascinated.  Adam LaRoche is a White Sox player who I (an admittedly sports-illiterate person!) had never heard of before I read this article.  But as I read I was inspired by this man who brought his son to baseball practice every single day.  His 14 year old son would clean cleats, help out, and just watch his dad, and last year the Chicago Tribune dubbed him the team's "26th man." 

But recently, Adam's boss gave him an ultimatum: he had to reduce or eliminate the days he brought his son in with him. (After all, the boss reasoned, where else can you bring your son in to work with you?) Adam LaRoche chose to retire early, losing out on $13 million dollars left in his contract.

$13,000,000. 

The story is still unfolding, but nevertheless I am blown away by what his decision proclaims to the world. After all, this is not an issue of right or wrong.  It would certainly not be morally wrong to simply reduce the number of days his son came with him.  But Adam faced a choice, and he knew his decision would send a clear message of who or what he valued. 

If Adam had allowed the promise of personal gain to keep his son home, he would have been admitting to his son what really mattered to him and what really controlled him.  He would have been saying that he prioritized his son when nothing better was on the horizon, but when money was on the line his son took second place.   The reason we are even talking about this situation is because Adam didn't do that: he "put his money where his mouth is" in the most literal turn of that phrase.

And even $13,000,000 could not change his mind.

How strong am I--how strong are you--on the beliefs that are a core part of who God made us to be and that equip us to fulfill the mission He has given us?  Is there any rationalization by which we could be convinced to change those values for personal gain?  Let me put it this way: what is your price?

Can curious sideways glances keep you from praying before a meal?
How much money would it take before you agreed to skip church to take a job?
Does your family take backseat when better offers come along?

Adam LaRoche walked away from $13,000,000, and in doing so he made a powerful statement his son will never forget.  His son will never wonder if money is more important to his dad than he is.  His son will never question whether or not his dad has a price at which his priorities will implode.  His son will never doubt that his dad means what he says.

But I am convicted because I wonder if I would have been bought out for a lot less.  And as painful as it is to think about, every time we are bought out, we negate to the world who watches the sincerity of everything we have done before. 

---

If my life values are not important enough to withstand the pull of personal gain, then how much did I ever truly value them?

---

A plaque in my room reads in bold, all capital letters: "If you stand for nothing you will fall for anything."

So ask yourself honestly what you stand for: Would 13 million dollars be enough to buy you out?

Sources: http://www.foxsports.com/mlb/story/adam-laroche-chicago-white-sox-retire-ken-williams-son-clubhouse-drake-family-031616
http://abcnews.go.com/Sports/adam-laroche-white-sox-manager-told-bring-son/story?id=37758766
“A Great Moment at the End of a Great Season,” ©2011 clappstar, used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.

The Leap Day Phenomenon

Leap Day fascinates me.  Living a day that only exists once every four years is curiously like living in a time traveling time warp. After all, how else could you add a day to my month--a whole 24 hours that appears out of thin air! Certainly not through a mere paper-shuffling, calendar-quibbling, name-game formality. Time warp is a much more delightful and intriguing theory behind Leap Day.

And so I am convinced that we need to celebrate Leap Day to its full potential. Honestly, who doesn't need an extra day in their lives? I for one am imagining all I could accomplish on a "bonus" day: catch up on every email I've been procrastinating on, plan the next six months of teaching, dig myself out of my (let's just be real, shall we?) disastrously messy room, file my taxes, and finish that big project I've been working on. 

But while I'm being real I should probably also admit that I'm going to need a whole lot more than one Leap Day to get it all done.  So, all fantastic time warps aside, I've been pondering this problem of "getting it all done" lately and have realized something.

If I am always feeling that I need an extra minute or hour or day, then perhaps what I really need is less packed into that minute or hour or day.  
Perhaps the real problem lies not in the constraints of time but in my lack of constraint.  Perhaps the root of my stress is that I am a chronic over-committer, finding it stupendously difficult to say no to things without feeling guilty. 
And perhaps...just perhaps...I am not alone in this.

We women know how to choose the best-tasting watermelon. We can decide in seconds if an outfit is adorable or homely. Yet we somehow lose our decision-making skills when it comes to regulating what we do or don't commit to. The worst part about this is that if you take on too many good things, you are overbooked, unavailable, and worn out when the best things come along.

So here are just a few questions that I've resolved to ask myself when considering adding something additional to my plate:

• Is this going to advance God's kingdom or myself? 
• Am I tempted to refuse this commitment simply because it would take me outside my comfort zone? 
• Where is my mission field right now? Everyone has a mission field for each season of your life. So if you don't know what yours is, discovering God's mission field for you should be your first step. Knowing this will give you much clearer vision for what you should take on and what you should turn down. 
• Is saying no painful because I am more worried about people not liking me if I don't please them than I am concerned about what God wants me to be doing right now?

These questions are only the beginning--I would love to hear what questions you ask when facing decisions!

---

“.TimeMachine.,” © 2008 Sachin Sandhu, used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.

But I Will Never Run a Marathon

It was mid-day on Saturday, and I was dying.

My lungs were burning, and my fingers were freezing.  My knees were aching and my tongue was parched.  I had run 9.75 miles with the last quarter of a mile looming before me along with the knowledge that I was running beyond anything I had ever run before.  I felt like an explorer of the barren Antarctic or the moon, for that matter. 

Along with my equally crazy friend, Sarah, I am training for a half marathon next year, so last Saturday was another normal episode in the training process.  Normal, except for the fact that I had never run ten miles before in my life.  And two weeks before that, I had never run 8.5 miles before.  And two months before that, four miles was my comfort zone.  And believe me, the idea of running a half marathon is much more enticing than the actual torture part.    

So as I have pushed my comfortable distance just a little farther, as I have pushed my legs a little faster, and my heart a little harder, I have slowly edged forward.  And now, I find myself in the unique position of being beyond my comfort zone, looking back in to that empty box, and not missing any of it! 

My discoveries in my running shoes hold true in high heels as well, so no matter what shoes you wear, here are three reasons you should run through that comfort zone:

1. A comfort zone that is never challenged becomes a blindness to new possibilities. 
2. You cannot scale a mountain you have never climbed before without a Guide: Jesus becomes very real at the edges of our comfort zones! 
3. While comfort is not a sin, God's chief end is not for us to enjoy comfortable lives, but rather Christ-glorifying lives.  Comfort zones can become catch-alls for bad habits, laziness, and pride.

Paul loved his comfort zone of Pharisee-ism  until he was forced to confront how meaningless his comfort really was on the road to Damascus.  From then on, his life was not comfortable, but it was so much more.  Here is his perspective on comfort zones:

"Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.  Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  Therefore let us, as many as are mature, have this mind; and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal even this to you. " {Philippians 3:12-15}

While I consider the fact that I am now becoming comfortable with the idea of a half-marathon, and quake in my running shoes at the thought of the full marathon, why don't we also consider what comfortable Christianity Christ is challenging in us?

---

“Runner,” © 2013 Alexandra E Rust, used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.
Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.