Fridays

Everything is better on Fridays. Despite the number of nights I worked late this week or how many emails I still have to get through or what the weather looks like outside, life just feels better on Friday. You know you're in the home stretch and you feel a thousand feet tall to take on everything that stands between you and two days of rest, recharging, and fun. I'm typing this as I sit on the comfy couches in our building lobby because I thought, "It's Friday! I'm ‘bout to take a mid-morning break!"

Today, in a small way (a very small way), I sense what it's like to anticipate Heaven. To know that there is something coming that is better, and to long for it. There is something in your spirit that senses that. How incredible the anticipation should be for not just two days of rest and running errands, but an eternity of rest and NO to-do lists (Heaven, come down!). I want my soul to long for it.

“…we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” (2 Corinthians 4:18)

Why Parenthood made me quit Parenthood and other reasons why it is the best show on TV

I haven't been a "show" person since the days when I used to tune in to the ongoing sagas of the Smoke Monster on Lost. Even then, I was, admittedly, one of those annoying followers who was "OBSESSED WITH THAT SHOW" but never really knew what was going on (did anyone?).

Until now. And until Parenthood.

I've gotten to know the Bravermans over the last six weeks or so as I've sped through the first 44 episodes on Netflix. While I miss that anticipatory feeling of waiting ALL DAY for 8pm and then gripping your seat like a kid on a roller coaster as you *sush* everyone in the room to hear the words "Next week, on [TV Show]...", I've learned that "binge watching" has what can only be compared to drug-addictive properties that I can't get enough of.

I could go on and on about all the things I love about and have learned from Parenthood. But I think my favorite theme is the value of a consistent lifestyle. Adam Braverman, the show's main protagonist, does not live an extraordinary life. He works a common job and has a common family with common problems. What makes him so likeable is not that he goes on crazy adventures or lives out his dreams, it's that he is loyal, loving, and available to the people in his life. Is this the greatest accomplishment we've all missed in the pursuit of living an interesting and dynamic life?

Jesus thought so: “The most important commandment is this: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself.”

The only way I can think to describe all of the emotions I experience during an episode of Parenthood is like a Jackson Pollock painting: just a bunch of stuff thrown up there all at once.

And then I cry.

I should have known that these reeling Parenthood emotions would one day become too much for their own good and that all of the life lessons would implode on one another. Alas, Parenthood has successfully convinced me to stop watching Parenthood.

For all the thoughtfulness and heart lessons that this show has afforded me, I also realized that my habit has become: get home from work, abandon all necessary and/or beneficial responsibilities, sit and watch Parenthood. And eat. It’s not spiritually healthy. I can convince myself that I'm just "unwinding" or that "I worked all day and deserve this," but a beer, an order of Thai food, and half a bag of chips later, I've "unwound" in a slothful and disobedient way.

(Warning: If you haven't made it to Season 3, Episode 9 yet, there may be spoilers that follow. If you've made it PAST Season 3, Episode 9: DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING.)

Last night I watched as Seth checked himself in to rehab, worked hard to get sober, and then (after getting out of rehab) humbly made the decision to move to a new city, knowing that it was the best decision for the people he loved—even though it's not what he wanted and even though everything he'd ever dreamed of having was right at his fingertips. He just walked away—from his addiction and then from HIS vision for his life so that others could be happy.

And I continued to eat.

This morning I thought about these Bible verses:

“In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.” (Hebrews 12:4)

“And if your hand--even your stronger hand--causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.” (Matthew 5:30)

If we live our lives according to Scripture, we are required to take extreme measures to avoid sin and temptation. God knows that sin is not a light matter. Jesus has already paid the price for it, but sin still separates us from God, and that’s why He takes it so seriously.

I've heard about and seen many people check themselves in to rehab or make an appointment with a counselor, but for some reason, when Seth walked away, I knew that I need to start walking away too.

What situations do I put myself in that make me vulnerable to sin? What measures am I taking to ensure that I don't go anywhere near sin? I know that watching Parenthood (or any TV show, or surfing social media) at night will lead to gluttony and apathy, and so I must quit.

“But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.” (Romans 8:17)

Sometimes I think about suffering for Christ. I think about that oldest pastor line in the book: "If you're not suffering because of your faith, you're probably doing something wrong." And you're sitting in your chair or pew looking up at the guy thinking, "Man, I can't remember the last time I was spat on or made fun of because of Jesus or stoned because I follow Him...do people even still do that?"

In Jesus' time, suffering for Him oftentimes meant public ridicule and physical persecution. In some parts of the world, that's still the case. But in America, where it's "trendy" to be #blessed and cool to wear a cross on your Urban Outitters crew neck, suffering for Christ might look more like not watching Parenthood because you know it will lead you to temptation and far from Him.

Have I become a soft, undisciplined Christian who wants to have her cake and eat it too?  Who wants to follow Christ and give up as little as possible?

I think there are some wonderfully redeeming themes in Parenthood, and, really, I sort of have to find out if Drew ever outgrows his painful awkwardness, if Crosby ever FINALLY puts a ring on it, and if Haddie ever grows out her curly bangs.  So, in the interest of full disclosure, I will probably keep watching Parenthood. But I will do so only in the light of day, where I am free from temptation:


For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night. So be on your guard, not asleep like the others. Stay alert and be clearheaded. Night is the time when people sleep and drinkers get drunk. But let us who live in the light be clearheaded, protected by the armor of faith and love, and wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation. (1 Thessalonians 5:5-8)

2014

Today, the office’s steady hum of keyboard clicks and weather conversations was wonderfully interrupted by bouncing footsteps and footballs as several kids roamed the halls.  It’s New Year’s Eve, and with most kids off from school, parents were forced to either hire a babysitter or “divide and conquer,” as one coworker told me—“Dad’s at home with the baby, and I’m here with this little guy.”  The squealing, miniature humans were a welcome addition to the already-stirring holiday excitement at work.

At one point during the day, I walked in to the kitchenette to find one such little girl, probably no more than seven years old, reaching to fill her bottle in the water cooler.  Not wanting to scare or intimidate her, I didn’t say anything at first.  And then she took the lead:

“Have I seen you yet?”

I smiled and looked back at her, “No, I don’t think we’ve met!  My name is Allison.  What’s yours?” 

“McKinley, but my little brother calls me Kinley.”

We exchanged a few more words, and our conversation ended with her asking me if I would be here later this week (she’s coming back).

I was so struck by McKinley’s openness, gentleness, and kind spirit, and soon the words of Christ whispered to my memory:

“Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children. I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn’t receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.” (Luke 18:16-17)

How incredible that childhood holds the secrets to a life of faith!  How often I try to prove my knowledge of scripture, learn more theology, and defend more ideology.  How often I try to accomplish more for God and go to more places for His name.

What I could stand to do is be more like McKinley: befriend others and be gentle, open.

I pray that in 2014, my pursuit of spiritual maturity does not propel me forward toward lofty intelligence but backwards toward child-like love and faithfulness.

Fully clean

If I had a dime for every time I’ve heard the phrase: 

“I know deep down [they’re] a good person.” 

...I’d have piles of dimes too high to climb.  But the Gospel, a new paradigm, does not tell us we’re good inside.  It tells us that we’re sick, we’ve fallen short, we are in need.  And Jesus, Son of God, comes and makes us clean. 

But now, I find that a new lie has come alive.  A lie that lets me think that “deep down inside” I’m still that sick, lost, depraved soul that I once was.  A lie that makes me feel like my righteousness is layers of clothing I put on, making me warmer and warmer until you rip the zippers, tear apart the seams and see the real me—withered, cold.  A lie that assumes my attempts to live clean are just those—attempts, that very often fall short.  When I am successfully “walking in step with the Spirit”—avoiding temptation, standing up to sin, loving from an overflow of joy within—it feels like merely an act; soon I’ll walk off stage and go back to being me. 

The “me” that longs for less than God’s best.   
The “me” that has a continual lust for more.   
The “me” that’s stuck.   
The “me” whose desires wreak havoc and devour my soul. 

But my life is not a tight rope, and what’s “right” is not a cloak I don.  The old is totally gone.  The stage I’m standing on is grace, and I will not be replaced with an under study or anybody who’s not me, redeemed.  I’m fully clean, through and through.  I don’t always do what I should do or what I want to do but if there’s one thing that’s always true it’s that I have what I don’t deserve—salvation. 


Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.  The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. (2 Corinthians 5:17) 

You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you…If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his spirit who dwells in you. (Romans 8:9-11) 

And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses. (Colossians 2:13) 

Eating pears in peace

This morning, after getting in to work at 6:56am and getting right to work, I had approximately 8 minutes before my 8:00 meeting.  I grabbed the pear I had packed in my Vera Bradley lunch bag along with three stiff paper towels from our company break room and sat back down in the exact spot where I spend at least 160 hours per month (one of which I'd already put in this morning) my desk chair.  I took one bite and my mind immediately raced again to what I could look at, read, accomplish.  What small task could I accomplish in the (now) 7 minutes before my meeting?  What website could I pull up to blur my eyes over for a few minutes?  Who has instagrammed since the last time I checked?

But this morning, I decided to wait.  Pear juice flowing down my chin, puddling on the paper towels below and splashing on to the space bar of my keyboard, I decided to spend just a few minutes in peace.

I realized how little time I allow for peace to work its way in, and then I wonder why I don't have any.  Too much work, too much social media, too much stimulation. Be still and know. 

Trouble, Trouble, Trouble

“Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.  Father, glorify your name!” (John 12:27)

If we find ourselves in life circumstances that are difficult, perhaps we must consider that there is a “very reason” for us being there.  At the least, we can know that there was a “very reason” for Jesus to be in His moments of difficultly, and so we can rejoicingly participate with Him in suffering (1 Peter 4:13).

Certainly, none of us are Jesus.  Not one of us is destined to die for the salvation of all mankind.  I think about the countless times in the book of Psalms where David pleas with God for help…

“Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to me neck…”

“Deliver me from sinking in the mire…”

“O Lord, do not delay”

“Rescue me, O God, from the hand of the wicked…”

“O my God, make haste to help me!”

Asking God to save us from our trouble is not wrong.  But we must realize what our trouble may be accomplishing and the significance it might have.  Not the least of which is that our suffering increases our dependency on Christ.  And our choice to actually depend on Him in trouble—to sit in our moments of anxiety, sadness, confusion, and turmoil believing that Christ is the only solid rock on which we stand rather than retreating to vices or distractions—will “glorify His name”.

Gravity

Gravity wants to bring me down.

Keep me where the light is.