The train of time continues to chug down its tracks with increasing velocity. I'm now entering the tenth week of my ten-week internship in Manhattan, and it feels like I just began. Things at the church have been going great. The youth minister I'm working with is actually in Ecuador with eleven of the students on a mission trip, so for the last week I've gotten to play Youth Minister. So I get to sit at the big desk in our office. It feels nice. As long as I can keep all the students from denouncing Christ for one more week, I will consider my internship a glorious success. I feel like my last week may be a little slow, because I already have my Wednesday night lesson done, so all I can really think of to do is write a lesson for the next Sunday School and clean up the office. So if you feel like coming to Manhattan and taking me out to lunch...I'll probably be free.
1 Timothy 4:12 says this: "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity."
Youth ministries love this verse. When I was in middle school, our guys' Bible study was called "Platoon." And we had these sweet dogtags with our names on them and the reference to this verse. And I would wear it around, but underneath my shirt because I had another chain with a little flame on it that I wore too. And I eventually lost the dogtag, and I decided I should grow up and stop wearing the flame necklace when I turned twenty-one.
I'm a member of a very demanding generation. We demand our rights! We demand respect! We demand not to be judged! We demand to be heard! We demand drive-thrus that are open till midnight or later! And the same is true even among Christians. So the first half of 1 Timothy 4:12 becomes our mantra as we stream into churches shouting "Don't you dare look down on me because of my youth! God said that you have to listen to what I have to say!"
But there is a second part of the verse. It tells us to set an example through a lifestyle that is pursuing reflection of Christ's. Perhaps such a lifestyle is the means to the end of respect that the first half mentions. How does a young person keep others from looking down on him? By setting an example by his life. By establishing a filter between his reactions and his tongue. By guarding his conduct. By loving everyone as God does, seeing them through his eyes. By faithfully stepping out and trusting Jesus at his word. By grasping purity in the middle of a sensuously powered culture.
Society doesn't expect much from young people. Young people are supposed to go party and drink and have sex and hit the beach for spring break with hopes of landing a spot on an MTV special. They're supposed to be irresponsible, promiscuous, lazy, and self-centered. They're supposed to be everything but what Paul prescribes to Timothy. Culture has set the bar so low for young people, and unfortunately, we've often stooped to match their expectations. Alex and Brett Harris wrote a book called Do Hard Things, which is really geared toward high schoolers but can be easily applied to college students as well. And they talk about the "Myth of Adolescence," which says that young people are incapable of really doing much of any significance in the world. And maybe that's what Paul is talking about too. I'm twenty-one years old and in college. And I don't want to pretend that I'm older than I am. I want to go out and have fun and eat tacos at midnight. But I don't want to be immature either. We sell ourselves way short if we think that it's our responsibility to be foolish before we decide to finally "grow up."
As young, incoming Christian leaders, we sometimes like to complain about those who have gone before. We gripe about how the previous couple generations have crippled the church with their stubbornness and short-range vision. So it's a good thing we're here to save the day! And so we storm into the church making our demands for respect. And to some extent, we'll get it because we went to Bible college and have our names on a door in the church office and on the back of the weekly bulletin. But it's moronic to expect that others not look down on our youth if our lives remain spiritually infantile. Parents wouldn't let their baby make family financial decisions if he can't even wipe his own butt. So we shouldn't expect the church to pay too much attention to what we have to say if we're not willing to develop the lifestyle Paul outlines in 1 Timothy 4:12.
The purpose of Bible colleges are essentially to train Christian leaders. So we take all kinds of classes that teach us how to handle meetings and manage finances and work with other staff members and communicate effectively. And all of those things are important, but they're useless if not supported by a leader's lifestyle. Instead of flatly demanding respect, we need to demonstrate lives that demand to be heard.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Spots
I've been sitting here for a while debating in my own mind whether or not I want to write anything today. It's been somewhat of a long and exhausting week, and I'm pretty tired and want to get home in time to watch Baseball Tonight. But, luckily for you, the chipotle chicken sandwich I just ate has given me a fresh breath of vigor and energy. Now hopefully this Pepsi will spark a few interesting thoughts.
I went to high school camp this last week. It was my third and final week of camp for the summer, and now I just have two more weeks of my internship before I head to California for a bit and then live the thug life in Topeka before school starts. I've been fortunate in that the church I'm interning at goes to King Solomon Christian Camp, which is my home camp. I have an odd knack for retaining random insignificant memories, and I can still vaguely remember when I first arrived at King Solomon as a nine-year-old and my brother and I started the week by playing a game of horseshoes.
I have been to King Solomon as a camper seven or eight times as a camper, as well as five times as a sponsor. So it is the home of many memories for me. Writing direction to the Gnarly Waterfountain on the boys' dorm wall. Watching Jayne Long fall flat on her face because her legs fell asleep on the swings. Celebrating Area-Wide Friendship Day, followed immediately by Playday. Seeing Jr. High kids start bawling because we momentarily made them think the end of the world had come. Granted, none of this makes any sense to any but a few of you, but for me they're vivid memories planted in my mind. King Solomon is also the location for many spiritual milestones, especially in high school. In high school, the summer was always a period of growth for me thanks to the Bible Bowl tournaments and CIY and mission trips. Camp was always the first week of June, so it sort of got the ball rolling for me.
It was a little serene when I left camp yesterday. I'm not sure if I'll ever be there again because right now my future is somewhat up in the air. In my first couple years at Ozark, I had always wanted to do my internship at University, so I knew that there was a decent chance I would be back as a sponsor. But I don't know where I'll be or what I'll be doing next summer. Chances are it won't be in northeast Kansas. And after that I'll be graduated and it's even less uncertain where I'll be. So it's weird to think about how my feet may never again step in a place that has held such a significant place in my life so far.
Places are important in the Bible. This is easy to tell because they're mentioned so frequently, and handy maps are sometimes needed at the end of the Bible just so that we can make sense of what's what. God meets with and works for people at a number of specific places. He calls Abraham and promises to give him a certain land. He speaks to Moses on Mt. Sinai, first in the burning bush and later to give him the Law. Joshua commands that a pile of stones be set up at Gilgal so that people can see it and remember how God brought them across the Jordan. And God has a special dwelling at the temple in Jerusalem where all the Israelites come to worship him.
We too might have a set of places that we consider especially important. Places where we've encountered God and where he has spoken to us in special ways. King Solomon is such a place for me, and I have memories of other places. I remember the basement room in a dorm at Colorado State University where it dawned on me that being a good kid and knowing the answers doesn't substitute for a relationship with Christ. Or the hill near Chanute, Kansas where it seemed like I could see every blip of light God placed in the sky.
At a camp I worked at last year, the speaker once preached on the story of Zacchaeus. He focused on Luke 19:5, which says, "When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, 'Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.'" The preacher had a bunch of "spots" cut out of paper, and he gave them to the students and asked them about their "spots." About places where they met God. Probably all of us have such places. I often hear them described as "sacred spaces." We can think of specific locales where God encountered us.
The sacred spaces are important, I think. It's good for us to have places that we can both visit and reflect on that help us to see God more clearly. But perhaps too often, we rely to heavily on such places. We think that only there are we able to meet God. It's like we have a spiritual battery, and we need these battery chargers in order to maintain a living faith. While these places are helpful in boosting us in our walks with Christ, we can be in danger of using them as a crutch to support a lazy Christianity.
Imagine that Moses never came down from Mt. Sinai. God speaks through the burning bush, and Moses is so awestruck by the event that he decides to pitch his tent there to live out the rest of his days. Israel never would have been liberated from Egypt, and the Old Testament would be mighty, mighty short. I don't think we're meant to stay in these sacred spaces forever. Rather, we go out from there to live out our faith. We can't stay at camp/CIY/Ozark indefinitely. These places refresh us and prepare us for the world.
The beautiful thing is that, in a sense, we all have a portable sacred space. Or rather we are a portable sacred space. 1 Corinthians 6:19 calls our bodies temples of the Holy Spirit. The God who meets us at these physical sacred spaces dwells within us. He goes everywhere with us. We don't have to be afraid to venture out of our places of spiritual comfort because the Comforter is with us each step of the way. It's good for us to take opportunities to visit our sacred spaces from time to time, but it's foolish for us to think that we can't find God elsewhere. A person can't sleep in a crib forever.
With all of that being said, one place that I hold very dearly is Ozark Christian College, and I'm growing increasingly anxious to return there for the fall semester. I miss all my fellow Ozarkans a great deal and I look forward to seeing you all again and hearing about your summers. I hope all is going great for all of you. Plus, there's no Chick-fil-A in Manhattan.
I went to high school camp this last week. It was my third and final week of camp for the summer, and now I just have two more weeks of my internship before I head to California for a bit and then live the thug life in Topeka before school starts. I've been fortunate in that the church I'm interning at goes to King Solomon Christian Camp, which is my home camp. I have an odd knack for retaining random insignificant memories, and I can still vaguely remember when I first arrived at King Solomon as a nine-year-old and my brother and I started the week by playing a game of horseshoes.
I have been to King Solomon as a camper seven or eight times as a camper, as well as five times as a sponsor. So it is the home of many memories for me. Writing direction to the Gnarly Waterfountain on the boys' dorm wall. Watching Jayne Long fall flat on her face because her legs fell asleep on the swings. Celebrating Area-Wide Friendship Day, followed immediately by Playday. Seeing Jr. High kids start bawling because we momentarily made them think the end of the world had come. Granted, none of this makes any sense to any but a few of you, but for me they're vivid memories planted in my mind. King Solomon is also the location for many spiritual milestones, especially in high school. In high school, the summer was always a period of growth for me thanks to the Bible Bowl tournaments and CIY and mission trips. Camp was always the first week of June, so it sort of got the ball rolling for me.
It was a little serene when I left camp yesterday. I'm not sure if I'll ever be there again because right now my future is somewhat up in the air. In my first couple years at Ozark, I had always wanted to do my internship at University, so I knew that there was a decent chance I would be back as a sponsor. But I don't know where I'll be or what I'll be doing next summer. Chances are it won't be in northeast Kansas. And after that I'll be graduated and it's even less uncertain where I'll be. So it's weird to think about how my feet may never again step in a place that has held such a significant place in my life so far.
Places are important in the Bible. This is easy to tell because they're mentioned so frequently, and handy maps are sometimes needed at the end of the Bible just so that we can make sense of what's what. God meets with and works for people at a number of specific places. He calls Abraham and promises to give him a certain land. He speaks to Moses on Mt. Sinai, first in the burning bush and later to give him the Law. Joshua commands that a pile of stones be set up at Gilgal so that people can see it and remember how God brought them across the Jordan. And God has a special dwelling at the temple in Jerusalem where all the Israelites come to worship him.
We too might have a set of places that we consider especially important. Places where we've encountered God and where he has spoken to us in special ways. King Solomon is such a place for me, and I have memories of other places. I remember the basement room in a dorm at Colorado State University where it dawned on me that being a good kid and knowing the answers doesn't substitute for a relationship with Christ. Or the hill near Chanute, Kansas where it seemed like I could see every blip of light God placed in the sky.
At a camp I worked at last year, the speaker once preached on the story of Zacchaeus. He focused on Luke 19:5, which says, "When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, 'Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.'" The preacher had a bunch of "spots" cut out of paper, and he gave them to the students and asked them about their "spots." About places where they met God. Probably all of us have such places. I often hear them described as "sacred spaces." We can think of specific locales where God encountered us.
The sacred spaces are important, I think. It's good for us to have places that we can both visit and reflect on that help us to see God more clearly. But perhaps too often, we rely to heavily on such places. We think that only there are we able to meet God. It's like we have a spiritual battery, and we need these battery chargers in order to maintain a living faith. While these places are helpful in boosting us in our walks with Christ, we can be in danger of using them as a crutch to support a lazy Christianity.
Imagine that Moses never came down from Mt. Sinai. God speaks through the burning bush, and Moses is so awestruck by the event that he decides to pitch his tent there to live out the rest of his days. Israel never would have been liberated from Egypt, and the Old Testament would be mighty, mighty short. I don't think we're meant to stay in these sacred spaces forever. Rather, we go out from there to live out our faith. We can't stay at camp/CIY/Ozark indefinitely. These places refresh us and prepare us for the world.
The beautiful thing is that, in a sense, we all have a portable sacred space. Or rather we are a portable sacred space. 1 Corinthians 6:19 calls our bodies temples of the Holy Spirit. The God who meets us at these physical sacred spaces dwells within us. He goes everywhere with us. We don't have to be afraid to venture out of our places of spiritual comfort because the Comforter is with us each step of the way. It's good for us to take opportunities to visit our sacred spaces from time to time, but it's foolish for us to think that we can't find God elsewhere. A person can't sleep in a crib forever.
With all of that being said, one place that I hold very dearly is Ozark Christian College, and I'm growing increasingly anxious to return there for the fall semester. I miss all my fellow Ozarkans a great deal and I look forward to seeing you all again and hearing about your summers. I hope all is going great for all of you. Plus, there's no Chick-fil-A in Manhattan.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Know Why
One day last week, I was about to begin the unpleasant task of gassing and vacuuming the church vans following our youth group trip to Worlds of Fun. The vans and I have a pretty close relationship, because almost every week, they're taken to camp, and it's typically my duty to take care of them upon their return. Thanks to this practice, I have become more efficient in vacuuming them as I can now clean a 15-passenger vehicle using four dollars of quarters, whereas it used to take five (once I even did it in three). It's not really that bad of a job except for the miserable Kansas summer climate, which makes the vans like my own personal saunas.
Anyways, I was in the church getting some paper towels for the Hershey Kisses that had been smashed into the van floor and melted in the 100-degree heat when I bumped into one of the church elders whom I had not previously met. He is a very unique person, I soon realized. There is not an iota of shyness in his body, and right away he was talking to me about school and what I want to do in ministry and all sorts of things. At times it felt more like a military interrogation than anything. He wanted to be sure that I knew some Bible, so he made me quote a verse. After I did, he quoted 1 Tim. 4:12, which is about not letting people look down on you because of your youth but setting an example in life, love, faith, speech, and purity. He then expounded on each of these virtues, and when he got to purity, he asked me straightforwardly, "Do you look at pornography?" Not exactly a normal "small talk" question that you hear right after meeting someone. So he definitely got right down to the point of what he wanted to talk about.
He also asked me a lot about how I decided to go into ministry and what I wanted to do and all that. When he asked why I wanted to be a youth minister, I mumbled some flaky reason about how I felt God wanted me to be. Honestly, I just wanted to end the conversation, because I was already feeling pretty awkward and was in a hurry to get to the church vans. But what the elder said next made me step back and think a little. He said, "I don't care about what you feel. Feelings go up and down. Now do you know that God wants you to be a minister?"
If you know me, you know that statement resounds with how I work. I don't often make decisions based on how I feel. I think about things. And then I think some more. And then I overthink. And then I write about it on here. And I definitely didn't make a decision as significant as what I wanted to do with my life based only on feelings. But what what elder said forced me to reflect on my purpose in ministry. About why I decided to get into it.
I guess this post is more or less directed at those going into ministry. But the good thing is that, in a sense, all of us should be going into or already involved in some sort of ministry. When I got to Ozark, I had a sense of calling. I knew what I wanted to do and why I wanted to do it. I had purpose. I'm afraid that what can happen as we progress through Bible college is that we eventually get so busy doing ministry stuff that we forget why we're doing it in the first place. We know all the methods and strategies and everything, but the perceived need that pushed us in the first place has become foggy. If you're at Bible college or in ministry, at some point you felt God push you there. But you probably also sensed a need in the world. When we forget that push and that need, our ministry becomes unguided.
I do feel like God wants me to be a youth minister. But it's not just an inner emotion or holy goosebumps. I'm sick of the statistics that say 60/70/80 percent of youth group kids leave the church in college. I've seen way too many students get all hyped up about Jesus at CIY and camp only to forget about it a month later. I think the American high school is one of the greatest misison fields on the planet. And that's why I want to be a youth minister. I didn't think fast enough to share any of that with the elder, but instead walked away feeling like an idiot and questioning whether or not I'm cut out for ministry. So take a little time to think about why you're doing whatever you do. God wants to use all of us. So it's probably not a bad idea to figure out how and why.
I don't pay much attention to the news, so maybe you don't either. But here's some news: There's some crazy political situations in Honduras right now. As I understand it, the president was doing some bad things, so the military kicked him out and a new president was installed, but the old one wants to come back. I was in Honduras this last spring break, and I love the country and it's people a great deal, so please be praying for the political situation in the nation, and especially be praying for Mision Caribe and my friends there.
Anyways, I was in the church getting some paper towels for the Hershey Kisses that had been smashed into the van floor and melted in the 100-degree heat when I bumped into one of the church elders whom I had not previously met. He is a very unique person, I soon realized. There is not an iota of shyness in his body, and right away he was talking to me about school and what I want to do in ministry and all sorts of things. At times it felt more like a military interrogation than anything. He wanted to be sure that I knew some Bible, so he made me quote a verse. After I did, he quoted 1 Tim. 4:12, which is about not letting people look down on you because of your youth but setting an example in life, love, faith, speech, and purity. He then expounded on each of these virtues, and when he got to purity, he asked me straightforwardly, "Do you look at pornography?" Not exactly a normal "small talk" question that you hear right after meeting someone. So he definitely got right down to the point of what he wanted to talk about.
He also asked me a lot about how I decided to go into ministry and what I wanted to do and all that. When he asked why I wanted to be a youth minister, I mumbled some flaky reason about how I felt God wanted me to be. Honestly, I just wanted to end the conversation, because I was already feeling pretty awkward and was in a hurry to get to the church vans. But what the elder said next made me step back and think a little. He said, "I don't care about what you feel. Feelings go up and down. Now do you know that God wants you to be a minister?"
If you know me, you know that statement resounds with how I work. I don't often make decisions based on how I feel. I think about things. And then I think some more. And then I overthink. And then I write about it on here. And I definitely didn't make a decision as significant as what I wanted to do with my life based only on feelings. But what what elder said forced me to reflect on my purpose in ministry. About why I decided to get into it.
I guess this post is more or less directed at those going into ministry. But the good thing is that, in a sense, all of us should be going into or already involved in some sort of ministry. When I got to Ozark, I had a sense of calling. I knew what I wanted to do and why I wanted to do it. I had purpose. I'm afraid that what can happen as we progress through Bible college is that we eventually get so busy doing ministry stuff that we forget why we're doing it in the first place. We know all the methods and strategies and everything, but the perceived need that pushed us in the first place has become foggy. If you're at Bible college or in ministry, at some point you felt God push you there. But you probably also sensed a need in the world. When we forget that push and that need, our ministry becomes unguided.
I do feel like God wants me to be a youth minister. But it's not just an inner emotion or holy goosebumps. I'm sick of the statistics that say 60/70/80 percent of youth group kids leave the church in college. I've seen way too many students get all hyped up about Jesus at CIY and camp only to forget about it a month later. I think the American high school is one of the greatest misison fields on the planet. And that's why I want to be a youth minister. I didn't think fast enough to share any of that with the elder, but instead walked away feeling like an idiot and questioning whether or not I'm cut out for ministry. So take a little time to think about why you're doing whatever you do. God wants to use all of us. So it's probably not a bad idea to figure out how and why.
I don't pay much attention to the news, so maybe you don't either. But here's some news: There's some crazy political situations in Honduras right now. As I understand it, the president was doing some bad things, so the military kicked him out and a new president was installed, but the old one wants to come back. I was in Honduras this last spring break, and I love the country and it's people a great deal, so please be praying for the political situation in the nation, and especially be praying for Mision Caribe and my friends there.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
One Year and Still Truckin'
It was a lazy Wednesday afternoon, and a young lad of twenty years was getting a bad case of cabin fever. He had spent the previous four weeks traipsing about the country in a giant white van, and he longed to once again experience the thrill of the road. Loafing on the couch in his basement was beginning to lose its novelty. However, having heard of this new-fangled invention called the Internet, he popped open his laptop. "Wow," he thought, "I can write whatever I want and put it up on a website. And I can even choose an attractive color scheme and font style, and if I want to get really fancy, I can make it play music whenever people get on and read what I wrote. This is the perfect thing to temporarily distract me for my boredom!" So he began to tap away at his keyboard, not realizing that moment on July 2 would forever change the face of the world. Or at least would change what a very small group of people do with two minutes of their week on a semi-regular basis.
We here at A Chicken in a Cage With a Ferret are celebrating the one-year anniversary of the creation of this blog. Since this time last year, tens, nay, dozens, of people across the globe (or at least across Missouri and Kansas) have found their way to this site, though some of them may have been by accident. Regardless, we spare no expense when it comes to celebrating such a momentous occasion as today. Just mention this post to me the next time you see me, and I’ll give you a high five for free, or maybe even a sidehug if you’re lucky. But if you want the full experience, you should probably take me out to Braum’s and buy me some ice cream.
When I started writing this blog a year ago, I really didn’t anticipate that I would be interested in it beyond October (which would have been two months after everyone else lost interest, I’m sure). I’m rather skillful in starting something, thinking it’s the best thing ever, and then abandoning it almost immediately. But I very much enjoy maintaining this blog. It’s therapeutic in a sense, and I probably do it more for myself than for anyone else. That’s why people have journals, but I’ve never really been able to get into the whole journaling thing. It’s hard for me to get motivated to write something when I know no one else will see it unless I decide to dust it off someday down the road. So this is the next best thing for me. Unlike in a journal, I don’t get on here and write about all my deepest, darkest secrets (and I have many dark secrets, believe me), but it does give me a means of sorting out some of my thoughts.
And the truth is that I have learned a lot by blogging over the past year. Or at least I have learned a lot from life in general this year, and blogging has allowed me to make sense of what I’ve learned. I’ve learned that life can be really unfortunate, but that it’s humorous because it’s unfortunate and that people would rather you make fun of your unfortunate life than read about any serious topic. I’ve learned that we’re not adequate to really do that many great things by ourselves, but that we weren’t made to be adequate because God loves filling in the gaps where we’re lacking. I’ve learned that there is much to be learned from our emotions, even the bad emotions that we would rather ignore. I’ve learned that probably the most important thing we can do is make sure we’re firmly connected to Jesus, but there’s so many distractions both in ourselves and in the world that keep us from that. And I’ve learned that I do a pretty lousy job applying all the things I’ve learned.
Blogging forces me to think. After all, I don’t want this to become one of those blogs that lies dormant on some other blog’s sidebar, saying something like “Updated 5 months ago” under my title. I’ve got to keep it fresh. But truth be told, it’s not easy to come up with something to write about all the time, especially since any original thought is so elusive. Maybe that’s why all I tend to do is recycle the same few ideas but with different words.
One of the biggest problems in the world is that people just don’t think enough. They simply act. Or worse yet, they merely allow themselves to be entertained. The result of this lack of thought is that no one has any purpose, direction, or destination associated with their actions. We’re not like disciplined athletes running a race with focus (1 Cor. 9:24-27). We’re more like hamsters aimlessly running around in those plastic balls, bumping into walls, people, and coffee tables. We need to make it habit to stop running every once in a while and ask, “Where am I going?” When we finally stop moving and start thinking, we create enough space in our lives to think things like, “What can I learn from this experience? How can I become a better friend/disciple/person? How can I get closer to God? How can I do something worthwhile with my life?”
Such thinking isn’t meant to be only individual, however. It’s collective. Life is a conversation. If you meet someone who always walks around talking to himself, you would think he was a lunatic, or at least a moron. But that’s often how we live our lives. We stroll through life alone, paying little attention to anything others are saying. After all, we’re the masters of our own destinies, right? We can figure life out. Who needs the aide of others’ experience and wisdom when we have personal ingenuity? But a trailblazer isn’t courageous when there’s already a trail blazed. He’s an idiot.
I’d like to repeat a quotation that I cited in my first blog post a year ago. In his book To Own a Dragon, Donald Miller writes, “The truth I've learned about life is you can't do it on your own. People don't do well independently. One generation passes wisdom on to the next, wisdom about girls and faith and punctuation. And we won't be as good a person if we don't receive it.” And it’s true; we do need one another, because we don’t do so great alone. We end up having ridiculous thoughts and making stupid decisions. I always think I’m right. If I thought I was wrong, then I wouldn’t think what I thought. But I’m at least open to the possibility that I’m wrong, and I try to be willing to listen to what others say.
This doesn’t mean that we fold to the flow of the crowd or to majority’s opinion. That’s laziness. Individualism and community balance one another out. Sometimes (actually a lot of the time), most people are wrong. So it’s foolhardy to blindly swallow whatever others feed you. But neither do we ignore it. We need to critically listen to one another, weighing what others say first against then Bible, and then against our own thoughts, experiences, and common sense. That’s what conversation is. We speak to and listen to each other. We challenge and debate with one another. We work life out together. It’s like in math class. Sometimes there would be a super-hard assignment, so the teacher would let you work in pairs or in groups. Life is an awfully difficult assignment! It’s dumb to try to figure it out alone. But it’s also dumb to just write down whatever answer some other kid gives you. We work both alone and with one another.
Thanks for reading, whether this is your first time on here or you’ve somehow been following along for the entire past year. It is a great encouragement when people let me know that they read a post and liked it. There have even been times when people I barely know tell me that they like what’s here, which is always quite the shock. And it’s also very humbling when people who are way smarter than me and who have their act together much better (which includes just about everyone) say nice things and say that something on here even helped them. No idea how that happens. But if you all keep reading, I’ll keep writing, and we can keep the conversation going for another year. Otherwise, I’ll just go buy a journal.
We here at A Chicken in a Cage With a Ferret are celebrating the one-year anniversary of the creation of this blog. Since this time last year, tens, nay, dozens, of people across the globe (or at least across Missouri and Kansas) have found their way to this site, though some of them may have been by accident. Regardless, we spare no expense when it comes to celebrating such a momentous occasion as today. Just mention this post to me the next time you see me, and I’ll give you a high five for free, or maybe even a sidehug if you’re lucky. But if you want the full experience, you should probably take me out to Braum’s and buy me some ice cream.
When I started writing this blog a year ago, I really didn’t anticipate that I would be interested in it beyond October (which would have been two months after everyone else lost interest, I’m sure). I’m rather skillful in starting something, thinking it’s the best thing ever, and then abandoning it almost immediately. But I very much enjoy maintaining this blog. It’s therapeutic in a sense, and I probably do it more for myself than for anyone else. That’s why people have journals, but I’ve never really been able to get into the whole journaling thing. It’s hard for me to get motivated to write something when I know no one else will see it unless I decide to dust it off someday down the road. So this is the next best thing for me. Unlike in a journal, I don’t get on here and write about all my deepest, darkest secrets (and I have many dark secrets, believe me), but it does give me a means of sorting out some of my thoughts.
And the truth is that I have learned a lot by blogging over the past year. Or at least I have learned a lot from life in general this year, and blogging has allowed me to make sense of what I’ve learned. I’ve learned that life can be really unfortunate, but that it’s humorous because it’s unfortunate and that people would rather you make fun of your unfortunate life than read about any serious topic. I’ve learned that we’re not adequate to really do that many great things by ourselves, but that we weren’t made to be adequate because God loves filling in the gaps where we’re lacking. I’ve learned that there is much to be learned from our emotions, even the bad emotions that we would rather ignore. I’ve learned that probably the most important thing we can do is make sure we’re firmly connected to Jesus, but there’s so many distractions both in ourselves and in the world that keep us from that. And I’ve learned that I do a pretty lousy job applying all the things I’ve learned.
Blogging forces me to think. After all, I don’t want this to become one of those blogs that lies dormant on some other blog’s sidebar, saying something like “Updated 5 months ago” under my title. I’ve got to keep it fresh. But truth be told, it’s not easy to come up with something to write about all the time, especially since any original thought is so elusive. Maybe that’s why all I tend to do is recycle the same few ideas but with different words.
One of the biggest problems in the world is that people just don’t think enough. They simply act. Or worse yet, they merely allow themselves to be entertained. The result of this lack of thought is that no one has any purpose, direction, or destination associated with their actions. We’re not like disciplined athletes running a race with focus (1 Cor. 9:24-27). We’re more like hamsters aimlessly running around in those plastic balls, bumping into walls, people, and coffee tables. We need to make it habit to stop running every once in a while and ask, “Where am I going?” When we finally stop moving and start thinking, we create enough space in our lives to think things like, “What can I learn from this experience? How can I become a better friend/disciple/person? How can I get closer to God? How can I do something worthwhile with my life?”
Such thinking isn’t meant to be only individual, however. It’s collective. Life is a conversation. If you meet someone who always walks around talking to himself, you would think he was a lunatic, or at least a moron. But that’s often how we live our lives. We stroll through life alone, paying little attention to anything others are saying. After all, we’re the masters of our own destinies, right? We can figure life out. Who needs the aide of others’ experience and wisdom when we have personal ingenuity? But a trailblazer isn’t courageous when there’s already a trail blazed. He’s an idiot.
I’d like to repeat a quotation that I cited in my first blog post a year ago. In his book To Own a Dragon, Donald Miller writes, “The truth I've learned about life is you can't do it on your own. People don't do well independently. One generation passes wisdom on to the next, wisdom about girls and faith and punctuation. And we won't be as good a person if we don't receive it.” And it’s true; we do need one another, because we don’t do so great alone. We end up having ridiculous thoughts and making stupid decisions. I always think I’m right. If I thought I was wrong, then I wouldn’t think what I thought. But I’m at least open to the possibility that I’m wrong, and I try to be willing to listen to what others say.
This doesn’t mean that we fold to the flow of the crowd or to majority’s opinion. That’s laziness. Individualism and community balance one another out. Sometimes (actually a lot of the time), most people are wrong. So it’s foolhardy to blindly swallow whatever others feed you. But neither do we ignore it. We need to critically listen to one another, weighing what others say first against then Bible, and then against our own thoughts, experiences, and common sense. That’s what conversation is. We speak to and listen to each other. We challenge and debate with one another. We work life out together. It’s like in math class. Sometimes there would be a super-hard assignment, so the teacher would let you work in pairs or in groups. Life is an awfully difficult assignment! It’s dumb to try to figure it out alone. But it’s also dumb to just write down whatever answer some other kid gives you. We work both alone and with one another.
Thanks for reading, whether this is your first time on here or you’ve somehow been following along for the entire past year. It is a great encouragement when people let me know that they read a post and liked it. There have even been times when people I barely know tell me that they like what’s here, which is always quite the shock. And it’s also very humbling when people who are way smarter than me and who have their act together much better (which includes just about everyone) say nice things and say that something on here even helped them. No idea how that happens. But if you all keep reading, I’ll keep writing, and we can keep the conversation going for another year. Otherwise, I’ll just go buy a journal.
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