Failure Is An Option

Posted by Michael

I’ve asked my small group to come up with the one thing they know now, that they really wished someone had told them when they were fifteen years old.  The plan is to turn each lesson into a small group topic for discussion.  My lesson would be that failure is an option, and sometimes a very important one.  For years, I have obsessed, overworked, and at times avoided opportunities  in order to manage failure. I’ve always thought failure was the enemy,  that failure on my part would prove to the world just how incompetent I am and how little I know. With the Super Bowl looming in the near future, I am reminded that 31 of the 32 teams will fail this year in their quest to win it all. Many of the players from whichever team wins the big game will go home to failing marriages, failing financial plans, or failing friendships. Failure is inevitable, and as hard as it is to say, I’m grateful for that. Failure propels me into the grace of God. It reminds me that I was never created to do life alone. It reawakens my need for God’s forgiveness, His mercy, and His love. Failure isn’t fun, but our character development would stall without it. I would love feedback on what one thing you wish someone would have told you when you were fifteen!

Favorite Books From The Past Year: Personal Growth

Posted by Michael

On a whim one afternoon at a local Barnes and Noble I picked up a small book on creativity that I passed on a shelf-end display. A lot of my impulse buys don’t work out, but “Steal Like An Artist” was different. Austin Kleon is a clever writer, humble and honest about his efforts at creative growth.  His simple premise is to immerse yourself in the writers, musicians, and artists that inspire you. For most, mimicking the voice of the those we admire is how we begin to find our own voice. Creative at it's core is about bringing the thoughts and visions that are uniquely yours to the world, and Kleon does an amazing job of inspiring discipline to that end.  “Steal Like An Artist” is a relatively short book, and can be read in one sitting, but it is well worth revisiting often though, and you seek to amp up your creative energy.

Favorite Books From the Past Year: Fiction

Posted by Michael.

Tony and I are scheduled to review our 10 best movies from this year in January, but I thought I would get an early jump on the best books I’ve read in the past year. Same rules apply as with the movies in that the book can be from any year, but I had to read it this year. I try to read across a couple of broad categories, and will review my favorite book from each. I would love to know what you have read this year that stands out. I’m always looking for a good book to add to my “to be read” stack!

Fiction
My favorite work of fiction from the past year was actually a collection of short stories. Short stories can feel a bit odd if you are used to consuming novels, or if you need tidy resolution at the end of all that you read. If however,  you are up for a bit of a change, Simon Von Booy’s “Love Begins In Winter” is well worth your time. Von Booy is able to tap into the depths of human emotion and experience in concise, clean prose. His words flow smoothly and expertly through your brain as you read. Many times I read books as if they are a sprint, racing to get to the end and the pay off. Von Booy’s work begs to be read slowly and savored. It  is more like a leisurely walk simply for sake of walking. Taking time to see the sights, and hear the sounds. “Love Begins In Winter” touches on the depths of loneliness and trauma, while affirming the power of relational connection, and it does so well enough to deserve a spot in your reading rotation.

Darkness and Light: Thoughts on Christmas

Posted by Michael

“If my strength is not my own, if my righteousness is Christ’s, my darkness only makes his light more lovely. Satan might as well be accusing the shadows in a Rembrandt of ruining the masterpiece. God bends even our sin to the service of his glory.”

                                

      -Andrew Peterson (from his introduction to Russ Ramsey's Behold the Lamb of God)

Christmas is a time of hope. It captures us all. The smell of evergreen trees, the bright red ribbon around candy canes, the sound of familiar carols, all stir emotions inside of us. December finds us in a variety of states. Some have just pocketed Christmas bonuses while others pray for employment. There are homes packed with children and relatives that have traveled in from far away. There are homes filled with silence and loneliness.  Ornaments are purchased for a child’s first Christmas, while just down the street a widowed wife is unable to unpack the tree for her first Christmas without her husband. However it finds us, Christmas dares us to hope that things can be better, that somehow whatever immediate darkness we may be encountering will give way to brighter days.

The first ever Christmas also combined intense measures of joy and pain. Added to the joy of a newborn son was the knowledge that Mary and Joseph shared:  this child would be like no other! God was visiting His people just as He had promised. At the same time, it must have saddened the couple to birth their child so far from the comfort of home and family. On top of that, the prattling whispers of Mary’s premarital pregnancy that awaited them when they returned to their home added to their weariness and stress. They huddled together among the livestock in the last hours of daylight, cold and conflicted, honored and humbled.  Little did they know that as their new family spent its first night together, miles and miles above their head, a new light was piercing through the darkness.  A never before seen star’s light had reached the earth and the attention of scholars from the East. In spite of the darkness of that night or of their circumstances, God’s light was unwrapping a plan to rescue humanity.

Although a bit less extraordinary in some of the details, our lives mirror the experience of Mary and Joseph. Joy and anticipation mingles with loss and confusion. Sometimes it seems the darkness will suffocate the light completely. Mercifully, the light of God’s love for us will never be extinguished. Not only that, but the light is all the more brilliant in the midst of the dark world that surrounds us. God’s unending love for me is overwhelming, especially when I consider how poorly I love others and even myself. My prayer this Christmas season is that we will glimpse again the light of the irresistible love that God has for us, breaking through the dark.  

Film Review: Beasts of the Southern Wild

Posted by Michael.

If you find yourself in a mood for something new and off the beaten path with regards to a movie, something less story driven, but still powerful,  I recommend Beasts of the Southern Wild. Beasts of the Southern Wild does not come equipped with readily identified good guys and bad guys. There is no clear mountain to climb or challenge to face that leads to redemption and renewed hope. Instead, Director Benh Zeitlin gives you a powerful emotive experience.  He doesn’t stop, however, with just a push to your emotions, he engages your brain as well. You will have several threads of meaning to puzzle over after you leave if you so choose.  Questions about life and death, family, and cultural mainstreaming can all be puzzled over and examined after the credits roll. Quvenzhane Willis who plays “Hushpuppy” draws you in from the opening scene and keeps your focus all the way through to the closing credits, with a screen presence that could only be considered a rare gift. The story is tied around a father and daughter’s (Willis) fight for survival and independence in a condemned flood zone called “The Bathtub”.  This film is earthy yet artistic, stark yet endearing. The sort of filmmaking that Zeitlin pulls off is breathtaking and refreshing, and well worth an evening when you are in a contemplative mood.  

Efficiency Without Enjoyment

Posted by Michael.

When Thomas Merton was asked what he thought the leading spiritual disease of our time was, he thought for a moment, and then answered, “Efficiency”. Most of us are juggling 527 things to accomplish each and every day, and being as efficient as possible is the nirvana we seek. So, we carefully plan trips to the grocery store, so that I will also have time to fuel up the car, drop off a movie, and then meet a friend for dinner by 7. Every event on our calendar is a challenge to link as many other events together as possible, so as to be “efficient” and knock out even more things on our list. The problem comes when we realize that efficiency doesn’t always equate to pleasure.  I can get pick up the prescription, swing by the farmer’s market, make small group in time, and not enjoy a single one of them.  God did not create me for efficiency. He just does not need me to get it all done. I truly believe that it is about process with God. He wants me to engage life, but with Him instead of for Him. He wants me to feel the pleasure of tackling things on my list, not not strain  compulsively as I grasp for the next three things after that. Efficiency without enjoyment is not life’s purpose.

The Drive to Perform

My drive to define myself by my performance seems insatiable. I know that this isn’t the way I was created to operate. I know that I am more than what I do. I know that it’s dangerous to place something as important as my self-worth in something as fragile and unpredictable as performance. I know that if I were perfect today, parented perfectly, counseled clients perfectly, related to friends perfectly, drove perfectly, and set a new personal best on my run, that I would feel great tonight, but would wake up tomorrow morning with the burden of perfection smothering me all over again. It never stops. It’s never enough. Maybe you can relate. My big question is this: if I know all of this, then why do I so compulsively perform at times? Why do failures cause me to doubt myself at such deep levels? My only chance to break the addictive pull of performing for worth is to deliberately, intentionally not perform, and then face the discomfort that it brings. To be completely clear: the only way for me or you to break out of our performance trap is to deliberately choose to not perform. To put it another way, I have to choose at times to fail, to leave things undone. I have to fail, and then fight to embrace the truth that I’m not a failure. I have to leave things undone, and know that I’m not lazy. The failing may come through choosing things to engage in that I don’t have much experience in or that I’m not particularly good at, but have always wanted to try. It may come from attempting the near impossible, whatever that might be.  Knowledge in my head does not lead to change, experiences lived out in the minutes of my days will. It’s not enough to know truth, it has to hit me in the face, and then somehow become my friend.  Any thoughts…….