Dealing with Darkness

The past two or three winter seasons have really caused me to struggle with depression. I was afflicted by what I would call the winter blahs. Doctors have come up with more erudite terminology, calling my condition or attitude seasonal affective disorder. When I would wake up it was dark. When I came home from work it was dark. It seemed that by 6:00 p.m. my body would go into shutdown mode thinking it was time for bed. No matter how I tried to will myself to go about my normal activities in the evening and no matter how many cups of coffee I downed, my body always seemed to win out. I felt powerless to gain the upperhand over my own body. I found myself simply marking time, enduring the season, until the longer days of spring would finally roll around and I could emerge from my hibernation and go back to living.

This past winter has been markedly different due to a seemingly small change that I made. When I got home from work, I turned on all of the lights in whatever room I was in. I strove to flood every ounce of space with light. I wanted to drive out every shadow. My own version of light therapy helped me to turn the corner and drive away that droopy eyelid syndrome and incessant yawning and apathy that I had been suffering from. I was able to better enjoy the evenings with my daughter, time spent writing my blogs and reading books, or just puttering around doing household chores. I reasoned that this was well worth the cost in electricity that I paid.

Instead of just getting through, I have really been able to enjoy my time and make the most of it. Instead of fighting my body and its strong desire to want to sleep and battling feelings of fatigue and depression, I made a small change, and that made such a big change in my body and mind and spirit.

Castles in the Air

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, a fairy tale couple shared a first kiss, a kiss filled with promise and magic and light. In an instant, it somehow set everything right in the young lover's worlds. The din and chatter of the outside was instantly quelled and they saw only the other. They lived for the times they could be alone and walk hand in hand through the bailey and surrounding courtyard. In a world that had often been cruel and heartless, filled with dragons and dark knights, they felt adrift and tired. But at this moment they were rejuvenated and alive. It was as if every battle scar from their past was necessary to lead them to this perfect place at this moment.

In the turning of a few short pages, they wed and brought a child into the world together. Almost unnoticed, however, the brightly colored pastels of their fairy tale lives slowly morphed into the much harsher and darker palette of reality. Eventually the push and pull and pressure of the real world broke through and brought a sobering and somber quality into the chapters of their days. Gone were the extravagant balls and petal-strewn walkways of the promenade. Gone was the royal couple fit for a children's bedtime story. Now quests and fights to establish their treasury and to fortify their borders commanded their attention and became their priority. It seemed the biggest clashes of their lives occurred when they struggled and positioned and postured to rule as one when they had spent a lifetime out on their own kingdom conquests. Eventually small cracks in the castle ramparts developed into a full-scale breach that gave access to marauders from the outside. In no time, the light was extinguished, and the queen had abdicated her throne.

What started as a fairy tale crumbled into the fodder of a newsstand rag. It was only understood after it was too late that priorities and boundaries need to be established at the outset. The walls of the castle need to be protected at all cost, lest the kingdom and those within are lost. A cautionary tale to be sure, but one from which you would be wise to understand the lesson.

Acid Tongue

Do you struggle mightily with some personal issue that keeps you at a distance from who you want to be? Perhaps the problem seemingly has a stranglehold around your neck and sometimes you feel that you might never gain the upper hand. Maybe for you it is overeating, or dealing with road rage, or watching too much T.V.. For others it could be laziness, or procrastination, or neglect. For me, I have had a long history of struggling with controlling my words in and around colleagues at work. Specifically, I have had a tendency over the years to blurt out hurtful and inconsiderate volleys at and about others. I used to think it was related to impatience. I wanted things done a certain way on a particular timeline. When my expectations were not met, I would slam people for being lazy. I used to think it was about attitude. If I saw that a certain task was not being given the attention I thought it deserved, I would rail on people for lacking passion. I used to think it was about aptitude. If someone fell short of my expectations, I would tear into them for being incompetent.

Over the years I have gained some insight into this issue. My acid tongue had nothing to do with impatience, attitude, or aptitude. It had everything to do with calling attention to myself. It was ego pure and simple. By tearing other people down, I could build myself up. My salvos of verbal munitions were all about making me feel superior to others. It took a long time to understand what I was doing and why, and it has taken an even longer time to gain some measure of control over what I think and what I say to others. From time to time I still catch myself talking trash about someone else. These episodes can really discourage me and make me feel powerless to affect lasting change in myself.

It is so easy to think that we can never change. Sometimes when we try to improve our attitudes and reprogram our way of thinking, our efforts can seem futile, especially when our progress is slow and uneven. Recently though, my spirits were buoyed a bit by a colleague that I have known for more than 20 years. We see each other only a few times each year. After a conversation the other day, he said to me that my attitudes regarding others were markedly improved from what he remembered years ago. I smiled to myself, realizing that he was observing me from a vantage point that I could not reach myself. It made me appreciate how far I have come in this struggle. Perhaps you are further along in dealing with your issue than you give yourself credit for as well.

Don't Want to Go

I recently wrote a multi-part blog series entitled "Big Church" in which I shared my worries about rapid growth models of local churches and their success measures based on weekly attendance. As a result of this, one of the folks in my Bible study group suggested that I read So You Don't Want to go to Church Anymore by co-authors Wayne Jacobsen and Dave Coleman. The story begins with an associate pastor of a large-growth "mega-church" named Jake Colsen who is feeling more than a bit disillusioned in his position. The pressures and demands of keeping his church "machine" going and growing are taking their toll on him and he is feeling hollow inside and more than a little disconnected from relationship with his Lord. At that time he stumbles upon a man named John, whom Jake suspects may be the apostle of Jesus. By talking with John, Jake comes to understand how perfunctory his life in Christ has become.

The book is divided into 13 chapters spanning four years in Jake's life. Each chapter is framed around some issue or worry that is getting in the way of his knowing and trusting in God. John then mysteriously appears to give Jake some necessary advice and wisdom. He then disappears for a stretch to give Jake time and space to think things through and to overcome his fears and to implement new approaches into his life.

The overriding theme of this book that comes up in each chapter appears to be an indictment of our conventional notion of church. Several reviews that I read harped on the fact that the authors seem to be saying that spiritual closeness with God cannot be found in church. Churches are too big, too impersonal, too human centered. But I think that misses the true message of this work of fiction. I think the authors are merely trying to espouse living a spirit-filled life and that we should seek to build fellowship more than in our single worship hour each Sunday. It is only when we keep our focus consistently on Jesus that we will find him and be able to follow him most effectively.

Grind My Gears 21

Let me paint a happy little scene in a happy little neighborhood on a happy little sidewalk - of course here I am clearly channeling the late, great Bob Ross from the PBS program The Joy of Painting to put my mind in a less hateful, angry, some might say felonious state of mind, lest I exploded in a frothy, unkempt spew of molten lava, which is somewhat hot and sticky. As you enjoy a nice leisurely stroll down the aforementioned sidewalk, singing a lilting, happy (although somewhat melancholy) tune, whilst pondering deep thoughts of orphans and hoboes, your entire demeanor is ravaged when you realize that you have just stepped in someone's discarded chewing gum. Of course, you just happen to be wearing your new tennis shoes and the chewing gum has now filled every nook and cranny of your treads. As you hop about the sidewalk on your other foot, you look and act like some sort of a deranged circus performer. People in the area laugh and gesture at you and your situation, which only stirs your pot-au-feu further. You search in vain for a stick or other pointy object to scrape the gum off your shoe. Then when you start to dig and poke and prod to extract the sticky wad, the worse of a mess you make. When you are just about to spontaneously combust from the building rage, you notice a trash can no more than 3 feet from the offending gum wad, 3 stinking feet! At this point your hair catches on fire. Of course, the pleasant thoughts of helping the woeful plight of the orphans and miscellaneous hoboes have been fire bombed with the incendiary and careless actions of the gum spitter. You start to choke and cough on your own bile you are so enraged. Why if I find the so-and-so that did this, I'll kick 'em in the slats and tell them what for. Man, people who spit their gum out on the sidewalk really grind my gears.

Metamorphosis

When you are part of something small that blossoms into something bigger, an underground drum beat that crescendos into a mainstream symphony, it can be very exciting, especially when you are involved in an intimate way. Whether it is through your financial support, your service, your energy, your prayers, or even just as a cheering spectator, watching the metamorphosis take place in front of your eyes can be fulfilling, uplifting, and even a little awe inspiring. Growth of this sort has taken on a very personal meaning. Such is the case with my church, Waters Edge Church, which is opening up its second location in just a few more days. When I started attending "WEC" about 3 years ago, it was a church of about 500 or 600 folks. Today they are averaging about 2000 each week at their Sunday services!

The existing WEC sanctuary was just opened in the summer of 2009. This building was important in the life of my church in that it represented a major shift away from being a portable church using rented facilities. After quickly growing into that new building and using it to share the gospel with many folks in the area, it reached capacity faster than anyone could have been expected or hoped. The decision was made to follow a multi-site model to increase reach and capacity. Now the second location of WEC is on the verge of becoming a reality.

The building at the second site already has a long history. It was constructed in 1965 in a neighborhood shopping center and was one of the first multiplex movie theaters in the country. After several remodeling efforts and ownership changes, it finally went out of business for good in the early 1990s and had been falling into disrepair and decay as it sat idle for nearly 20 years. That's when WEC came in and signed a lease to remodel the facility and meet there as a church. Some would say that the building was opened in 1965 and was biding its time for some 40 years until WEC came along to take over. This second location is not only a metamorphosis from the standpoint of WEC and its approach to bring the gospel to people, it also serves as a wonderful metamorphosis for the life it will bring to the surrounding neighborhoods.

Congratulations WEC. I am proud to call you my church home and look forward to continue on our mission together to bring the good news to everyone we can.

Radical

The book Radical (subtitled Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream) by David Platt, begins with a story of the author's involvement in underground and secret church groups in Asia. Those who are so hungry for the Word of God that they would risk jail, beatings, death, loss of family, and loss of all that they own. They meet in remote locations without comfortable chairs, air conditioning, lighting, music, showmanship, snacks, clean restrooms, and all the frill and extras of the church experience that we have come to know and expect and even take for granted. But what about us? How long would we hang around if all of the trappings were stripped away from our worship experience? Would the Word be sufficient for us and engaging enough and important for us to stick around? An important question.

The first half of this book is simply masterful in highlighting the American church experience and expectation as soft, Christian-lite material. Most of us would surely melt away if there was an ounce of persecution or inconvenience in our worship experience. Platt probes our complacency with the question, "Now that you have heard the gospel, what is a proper response?". Is it just going to church each Sunday and checking off that box as "done"? Is it giving our money to the church, even at the level of commitment of a tithe and feeling satisfied? Is it even volunteering for the church or taking part in a church bible study group or consistently kneeling down in prayer? His answer is that this falls far short of what Jesus has commanded us to do. Platt tell us that the gospel of our Christian faith must evoke unconditional surrender of all that we are and all that we have to all that He is. It is living a radical life for Jesus. Platt states, and rightly so, that "scores of people have positioned themselves on a religious road that makes grandiose promises at minimal cost." Man, this is the good stuff. This is no feel good rah-rah, live for grand blessings in this earthly life rubbish. But lo, this is the stuff that should leave us feeling convicted and yearning to reach out, even if it is beyond our own personal comfort zone to make His name known to all.

About two-thirds of the way into this work, Platt takes a bit of a dangerous turn that likely will alienate many folks. He makes the worrisome claim that if we don't "radically" support world missions then we are likely not truly Christians at heart. His point is that nearly 4 billion people on this planet are disconnected from God, and of this number, roughly 1 billion have never even been introduced to Jesus. For me personally, I truly believe that not all are called to the same cause. Some give of themselves in their local communities, and some from the comfort of their homes. I understand his passion for his calling, but one must be open to the gifts that each of us brings to spread the Word. But if you don't discredit him for his, perhaps, overly zealous charge regarding world missions, I think that this book is a real jewel and has much to teach us about living radically for God.