You say you want a revolution...

So, this just might be the start of an incessant stream of blog posts. Apologies to start: if you aren't in for my stream of consciousness ramblings, there's no offense taken. Feel free to surf your way on and I'll be happy as a clam. I realized the other day when my friend Audrey commented on fb that I hadn't written a single blog post over the last month. This, in reflection, seems odd since I started this blog to have a place to reflect on the things that I learned while traveling and I've been traveling for the past month. Why the silence? Well, to be honest, I haven't really been ready to verbalize any of it up to this point. But over the course of the past week I've realized that there's a lot that's really solidified for me, so here we go. There will probably be a lot of these. Consistent readers, thanks for your patience (hi mom).

Over the past month I've been a bit of all over the place. I went to York, Edinburgh, Liverpool, and London with my dad and Bangkok and Udon Thani with a group from my school. It's all kind of been a blur, this long mashup of different experiences, but it's one of the best travel spells I've been on in a long time. One of those good for the soul experiences that stands out. When we were in Liverpool (my dad and I) we found ourselves gravitating towards a lot of the Beatles themed experiences. The Beatles are one of those bands we've always bonded over. Abeey Road is one of my dad's favorite albums and my first introduction to rock 'n' roll. What was interesting is how much the experience changed my perception of the band.

You see, I've always been more of Paul fan than anything else. I thought he had a musicality that was unrivaled, I really dug his lyrics, felt like he was the glue that held the band together. I couldn't be farther from that opinion now.

John's my favorite, no question.

Moving through the beatles museums and galleries and experiences I realized that Paul literally spent his entire life trying to please everyone, making art that would appeal to everyone. He was the accessible one, the one who wrote music that warmed your soul but never really challenged you. John was the polar opposite: the rebel who refused to be edited, to change who he was for critical reception. This manifested itself in so many ways across the span of his life. Early on he was the snarky jokester using sarcasm to communicate his opinions. Later he was the defiant protester, questioning the status quo and confidently speaking his mind. And the more I saw John being true to who he was, the more disillusioned I became with Paul.

I'm way too much like Paul.

The single thought that resonated with me over and over again in Liverpool was that nobody likes you if you rock the boat, but it's hard to look at yourself in the mirror if you don't. You see, for whatever reason, God made me the person that I am and I don't think it was to placate people. I'm way to afraid of tension/friction... always trying to consider every member of the community and the problem with that is I'll never truly have the impact I could if I'm constantly trying to filter myself down into a version that doesn't offend anyone. I need to be me, people will be offended, that's ok.

I disagree with a lot of what Lennon said, but man I respect the fact that he never filtered himself, never shyed away from speaking out against what he didn't approve of. I'm at a point where that's what I want. I'd rather speak my mind and be accepted and rejected for what I really believe than try to placate everyone I meet. I'm tired of being digestible, safe, widely accepted. There needs to be tension otherwise nothing in this world will ever change and if nothing ever changes what's the point of being here in the first place.

The Joy of Involvement

So I read this quote on a friend's twitter feed yesterday:

"I never trust anyone who's more excited about success than about doing the thing that they want to be successful at." -- xkcd

Holy crap that floored me. That's me in a nutshell and not at all in a good way. Three decades in and I'm still far, far too focused on being a success in everything that I attempt to do. I was having a conversation with one of the other coaches I work with a couple of months back and he asked me if I loved to win or hated to lose. Without blinking I said "I hate to lose." Because I do. I'm terrified of being viewed as a failure. But that view of failure is built on a lie that has buried itself deep into my psyche and I'm only starting to grasp hold of and get rid of.

You see, I've become certain that "winning" for me will never be found in victory, or acclaim, or professional success. Instead, I'm feeling increasingly called into faithful investment that finds relentless joy in being a part of the greater story that I'm being drawn into (so much about story lately!). What's incredible is not so much looking at events and labeling them as successful, but instead looking at eras or timeframes and seeing dynamic patterns for growth and change. There's something so compelling in seeing that continued drive and the love that it reveals: a love from a God that continues to draw us out despite our own "failings" and weaknesses.

I'm also reassessing the things I'm involved in and trying to intentionally look for the joy that can be found in being part, in knowing that I'm blessed enough to be involved in things that I love to do. It's crazy to think that I've had so many opportunities to be involved in ministry that has been life giving and meaningful over the last year and I really don't want to lose sight of that. It'd be a shame if I did.

Processing

I was talking to my friend Jon after chapel this week and we were talking about Peter (the subject of chapel that week) and how it's incredible to actually list out the major events of his life, because he's a lot more flawed than we have a tendency to even realize. I mean, sure, he's the first apostle to understand that Jesus is the Messiah, he's really the rock and catalyst of the church's young growth, he shows an eagerness to completely leave everything behind ... but he's also the apostle that Jesus referred to as "Satan", he cut off a dude's ear, he denied Jesus three times, he isolated himself ethnically and got called out on it by Paul. He was deeply flawed all the way through his life. Looking at that, Jon said that he is really quick to forget that God is so much more about process than product, that he looks at the scope of our lives more than the individual successes or failures.

I'm so about product.

I've got this fiercely competitive side, which has always served me really well in sports as a player, but always leads me to this attitude where I am evaluating whether I'm winning or losing at that moment (no connections to Sheen intended). The problem with this is those fleeting moments are only part of the greater story of my life that God is calling me into. The story that's being woven into the even larger story of those I've been called to be in community with, and even the world that expands so far outside of that. So individual successes our failures while uniquely exciting and frustrating in the moment really have jack squat to do with the bigger picture.

I'm learning to surrender the product to the process, but this is not an easy thing. I was sitting down with a friend of mine and discussing the last season of soccer that I had just finished coaching. We had just lost a tough game and I was really focused on that game as a gauge for how the season had gone. In response to this, my friend stopped me and made me break down my top 5 moments for the season. What was so cool about that was the fact that none of the moments that came to mind were about winning a game, instead they were moments that reflected greater progress, growth, or success in the lives of my players. It really made me realize how easy it is to lose the plot in light of momentary failure and forget about what's truly important.

So I'm still pressing into this one. I don't want to lose sight of appreciating the small victories of the day to day or continuing to seek for fresh victory in areas where I'm falling short/failing, but I want to be more aware of the bigger picture, the larger story.

Finding myself to lose myself.

I'm leaving for the UK in a little over two weeks with my dad. It's been so long since I've traveled just for kicks, which is intriguing in itself because I have a real tendency to associate mission or soul searching or growth with travelling. I go on these intentional trips of soul searching and discovery, but this time I'm just bumming around England and Scotland with my pops. I couldn't be more excited.

I'm fully aware that one of the central aspects of my personality is intensity. I have a tendency to have to assign deep meaning, purpose, narrative to everything. Which on one hand makes for some really interesting and deep experiences in life and on the other hand can get you lost in this cycle where you forget how to lighten up. I feel like there's something so necessary about that: to live life at times just for the sake of living it, to enjoy moments just because they've been given to you, to appreciate rest just because it's restful. It's like that line in "Waiting for the 7.18" by Bloc Party... "give me moments/not hours or days." Sometimes I forget to just chill out and appreciate the blessing of the completely meaningless but fulfilling little stuff that I'm blessed with on a daily basis. I want to write because it's fun, take pictures of things that catch my eye just because they look cool, have conversations about stupid stuff with my dad (like why Lucas ruined the Star Wars trilogy or why Monty Python is amazing), make random guesses about what the next 10 years is going to look like. I just want to rest and live and enjoy myself for a bit. It feels like such a gift to have that experience coming down the pike.

So, at the end of the day, I'm excited to have an opportunity to not think about where I'm at, to not try to find some greater message or metaphor, to not be so concerned with finding deeper purpose. I'm excited just to hang out and see what God does with that. It could be pretty epic.

Layovers

I've got this t-shirt that says "the only constant is change, there's only growth or decay." I bought it because I resonated with that phrase. I kind of hate it now. Not in a "that phrase is so far off" sort of way but more in a "man I wish that phrase was more off" sort of way. The thing is that decay is comfortable. It's easy. You can even decay in such a gradual manner that it looks an awful lot like keepin' on keepin' on. But I've had this steady itch in the back of my mind that's pushed me towards growth this year and it's been amazing and really taxing all at the same time.

I think the reason that it's been taxing is I want to be able to say that I did it, that I made it. I've been struggling lately with this desire to feel like I've arrived, that I've come to a place where I can essentially say that I've become the man that I'm supposed to be, that I'm "all growns up" (for lack of a better term). God's having none of that. This year has been one long stretch fest. I feel like Bilbo in the Hobbit when he says that he feels like butter spread over too much bread. It's been a year of being constantly reminded that there's stuff to grow in, be stretched in, be transparent in. And that stuff isn't going to just get fixed. In fact, they're part of the larger processes that will most likely define my life for the rest of the time that I've given.

In the past I've had this tendency to come to moments of calm, moments where I'm not being pushed, tested, challenged, etc. and thought "yeah, I did it... I made it" (respect to Kevin Rudolf). But I'm realizing, more and more, that these are just the layovers. The exchanges from growth to growth, the moments where God, in his infinite wisdom and compassion, allows us a break, a rest, before he says "come on now, you can do it, it's time to press in again." There's something exciting in that, a stirring momentum that reminds you that this is all a steady push towards heaven, towards experiencing the glory we were always intended for. I think I'm way farther from having arrived than I've ever thought, but I think that's ok.

Simplicity or Complexity or Both

So, I was reading Romans this morning and I was really good, but I always forget how all over the place Paul was. I mean, really seriously all over the place. It's just such a crazy complex book. And I think the shame is that we (we? the church? western communities?) have a tendency to really shy away from that type of complexity. Faith is about: love, justice, compassion, community, service... take your pick really. We try to boil everything down into this very digestible form. This idea that people will run screaming from anything too challenging or to complicated. That being said I feel like we really have a tendency to lose out when we do that. Christianity is hard, it's challenging, it's complex, there's all this room for interpretation and application. But instead of trying to press into that, we separate ourselves denominationally and ethnically and generationally and, well, yeah we separate ourselves. And in the process we're losing something. We have this close minded view of the rightness of our particular take. Limited as it might be. There has to be a way out of that. If not we're doomed to become increasingly more simple to the point where faith is a shadow of what it could be.

I'm thinking of the relationship I have with my dad. It's gone through some interesting shifts over the past ten years as he's really opened up about where he's at in life: fears, anxieties, vision, passion. Suddenly my dad isn't just the authority figure or the mentor, but this complex, layered person. And I really feel like our relationship has really benefitted from that. There's something that's so much more real about that. I don't know of a person who's all that easy to peg, so why would we view something as deep and challenging as faith as something that's supposed to be simple.

Forward Motion

I'm in the midst of realizing that I've spent far too much time in my life looking over my shoulder, looking to the sides. In my life and in my faith I've been far more concerned with the things that I've been trying not to do than the place that I'm trying to go, the person I'm trying to be, the life that I'm trying to live... most importantly the God I'm trying to follow.

I have no idea why I've been doing this for so long.

I can't think of a single endeavor that succeeds (to it's utmost potential) from mistake avoidance. Whether it's sports, relationships, education, whatever... if you're constantly trying not to mess up you'll never achieve the full potential you've been given. And I've been doing this in almost everything that I'm focused on right now. I've focused on avoiding failure above achieving some greater level of success. I know that this is all kind of "Life 101" but I'm just realizing the extent to which I do it. I want my faith to be about moving towards something, about moving towards God, a deeper relationship, as opposed to focusing on trying not to fail. I know I have a long, long way to go, but I'd rather be constantly moving forward, no matter how slow, rather than constantly trying not to let everyone down, trying not to do things that I think reflect badly on what I believe.