Thanksgiving has come and gone. We feasted. We watched football. We fell asleep on our couches. And then the next day we reheated leftovers and did it all again. Tomorrow I'm headed back to Ozark to finish out the semester. Thankfully, I'm on the downhill slope of things, and these last few weeks shouldn't be near as stressful or crazy as the preceding ten weeks. But you never know these days. Joplin is due for another power outage, and that always adds a lot of fun to the mix.
Not a lot of people know this, but my blogging days did not begin with the creation of A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferret. For a while in high school, I had a blog called Less Than Heavy Thoughts From David. Each week, I would write a little single-paragraph post about some random idea that I had. It was my little way of trying to be clever, but it probably wasn't very good. However, I did get a lot more comments on it, which either means people liked it more, or my friends were more bored. Caitlyn actually found it last year and commented to me that I sound the same now as I did back then. It's a little sad that I apparently haven't gotten any smarter in five years. I was also a contributor for another blog, and I'm not for sure, but I think it was called The Relationship Experts (how misleading). Basically, three friends and myself would write about all we knew about girls, dating, and relationships. Understandably, it didn't last very long. Today, though, two of those guys are married, so I guess they at least knew what they were talking about. The other guy was a pretty free spirit and could be anywhere doing anything by now, sort of like Carmen SanDiego.
This post will follow the stream of The Relationship Experts in that I will use a lot of space showing how much I don't know. Because, as hard as it may be to believe, I've not had much luck with such things, if you haven't been able to gather that from all of my other self-depreciating posts. Last November I actually wrote a post all about it called "The Bystander Effect," which has been my most popular post by far. Go figure.
People have told me that my problem is that I need to be more confident. I guess I can see why they would think this because I probably don't show a lot of confidence when it comes to interacting with girls. (I mean, why do you need to show confidence when you already know you're the best thing ever?) In part, this is just my nature. But in part, I sit and watch guys who do seem to exhibit a lot of confidence, and I've decided that I don't want to be like that. There's a very fine line between being confident and being obnoxious, at least from where I sit. I see guys go up to girls they might not even know and immediately start getting to work. It's all especially noticeable the first month or so of school due to all the new students on campus. Anyways, a guy will goes up to a girl and starts talking about how great of a high school football player he was and throws in some comments about how nice the girl looks and a few "mean" remarks (you know, the silly remarks like "Dang girl, those are some goofy shoes" that kind of sound like an insult but are meant to show the girl how funny and clever the guy is). Then the guy will steal the girl's cell phone and secretly put in his own number under the name "David the Stud" and will tell the girl that she needs to text him every night, and right before he leaves, he mentions that he and a few people are going to some lake that weekend and that she should go, and she should bring as many of her attractive friends as she can. And through the whole thing, they're always so dang touchy, tapping the girl's shoulder so that she turns around when no one's there; placing a hand on the girl's knee "on accident"; making the girl feel his bicep since he's been going to P90X.
It all seems so ridiculous to me. I assume that few girls wish to talk to me, even fewer want my phone number, and none want me to lay a hand on them. So I see these "confident" guys, and I think, "Sheesh, what a chump. That girl has got to think that's the most annoying thing in the world." But then I'm shown how foolish I must be, because these guys end up getting the girl, and I continue to sit in my basement watching reruns of The Cosby Show. These guys take a fancy to a girl, and they have enough confidence in themselves to makes something happen. They totally ignore the David Heffren Paradigm of Pursuance (noticing a girl, maybe saying hi in the dining hall, facebook stalking for two months, asking "How are you?" on the way to class, facebook-poking a couple dozen times, and then finally chickening out. Crap, I just revealed all my secrets!). These guys act so fast, but yet so successfully! I honestly can't figure it out.
And so, even though confidence can seem so obnoxious, I guess it's something to be admired. Girls evidently like guys who are arrogant and kind of annoying. But whatever works, I guess. I've noticed a show, I think on MTV, where they take a few dweebs and try to make them ladiesmen by being trained by an recognized "player." Eventually they send these guys into a dance club, and they have to walk around and make use of their new skills. So they'll walk up to some girl and pull an act much like the one I described above by saying something like, "Wow, you look like someone I saw in a movie" or just "Hey, I know you right? From that party last week?" And sometimes they strike out, but sometimes it works well. I'm not sure if it's because of the loud music or the already-consumed alcohol, but the girl shows interest in the guy. MTV has nurtured within him a confident, go-get-'em attitude, and it pays off.
This week, I've been catching up on all the TV shows I like. One of those shows is Smallville. Being a fan of Smallville is probably the most girly thing I do, because it's on the CW, so it's full of all kinds of teenage-y drama. Everybody on the show is beautiful too; they never hire ugly or even average-looking actors. Each new season they bring in some new cast member, and I always think "Wow, look, it's another gorgeous 20-something with nice hair." Not a lot of diversity in that cast. But anyways, in this season of Smallville, Clark Kent realizes that he's in love with Lois Lane. He's talking about this with his friend Chloe, who tells him something like, "Clark, if you want something, you need to just go get it." So the next day Clark strolls into the Daily Planet, sees Lois, and walks right up to her and lays a big kiss on her! And she must have been okay with that, because she kisses him back, and within a couple episodes, they're a couple. And I think, "Man, if only I had the gumption of Clark Kent! How does he do it?" Of course, I'd also like to be able to pick up city buses and shoot fire out of my eyes.
But alas, I'm not Superman. Nor am I on an MTV reality show. I'm just a guy sitting on his bed playing with the rubberband he just found on his nightstand. And for now, I'll let others be the go-getters. After all, I don't want to use up too much energy until intramural volleyball season is over.
With all of that said, I leave you with a couple other thoughts about social situations. For the first, I make use of good old Donald Miller. I feel like I quote him somewhat frequently, and that may be happening even more in the near future, because I started reading his new book last night, and I also already have an idea for my next post, which will use some stuff from Blue Like Jazz. Anyways, he writes, "I can get tired when I talk to somebody new, because if there is silence in the conversation, I feel it's my fault." I feel like that even with people who aren't new. I'm really not much of a talker, and I feel really bad about that. It's not that I'm bored or anything, it's just that I don't really have a lot to say. That's why, if I were to gain some confidence and go on a date, I would be terrified. I wouldn't know what to do with it once I got it, much like a dog who chases a car. How am I supposed to keep another person entertained and interested through an entire dinner? I'll probably have nightmares even tonight thinking about such a horrifying dilemma.
Second, don't you hate it when you see someone who you kind of know but not very well, and they look at you and wave, and you think, "Oh wow, this person is glad to see me! I feel so honored! I wasn't even sure they would remember me!" So you raise your hand to wave back, but then you turn around and see that the person was actually waving at someone else behind you, and now you have your hand in the air like an idiot, so you sheepishly lower it and hope that no one saw you, even though you know they did. And it's always so embarrassing.
I think it's Christmas season. At least, The Santa Clause and Elf were on TV yesterday, so it must be. I really love Christmas season, and I love Christmas music, so that's what will be playing here for the next month. And remember, we here at A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferret are honored that you would choose to spend your holiday here with us.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sabbath
This semester has been out of control. What I have discovered about college, and possibly about life in general, is that it doesn't really get any easier. After every semester, I always take comfort in the thought that the next semester will not be so rough, but that thought always proves to be a myth. So the last few months have definitely been some of the craziest of my time at Ozark. Normally, I'll need to stay up till about 2 a.m. doing homework once or twice a semester, but I probably did so about six or eight times this semester. My problem has been that I have three classes that require an unusual amount of work. I don't know why my academic advisor let me take these classes at the same time. I thought he was supposed to be my friend. Also, I haven't even shaved since mid-October, just because I've felt so busy and lazy and unconcerned about what I look like. It's not as cool as it might sound, because me not shaving for seven weeks is what most guys look like after not shaving for four days.
My body is tired. My mind is tired. My emotions are tired. And now I'm home for Thanksgiving break, sitting on my mattress that doesn't sink in like my one at school, tapping away at my keyboard while I sip a Coke with a picture of Santa Claus on the can. And it's all so refreshing to feel like I can stop and breathe for a change. I don't think I've ever looked forward to a break from school so much before. If I didn't get a break for a couple weeks later, I very well may have lost my mind. It's actually one of my fears in life to go crazy. I'm pretty certain that someday down the road, I'm going to go insane, except I won't know I'm insane and I'll think everyone is out to get me, kind of like in A Beautiful Mind. But at least then they can make a movie about me: A Mediocre Mind. It'll be a hit.
Rest is so important in life, and yet we often do a terrible time of practicing it. This is probably in part because of our culture, where so much is demanded from us in so many spheres of life. When your days are full of classes and homework and meetings and responsibilities, topped off by relationships and hobbies, and then topped off even more with frustrations and disappointments, it becomes difficult to create a little bit of space for mind and body to rest. In addition to that, many of us do waste so much time. When we need to get something done, we sit around on facebook or writing blog posts, which just pushes off our responsibilities, which then pushes into our times of rest. The only result of this is that we feel more and more weighed down, and we drag our aching bodies out of bed and down a canister of 5-Hour Energy just to make it through the day. We're not made to be able to handle all that, and we nearly lose our minds because of all the furious activity of our lives.
I think it's so cool that God wants us to rest. In fact, for the Israelites, he commanded it by telling them to keep the Sabbath day holy and to abstain from work. He knows that our tendency is to work ourselves into the ground, so he wants to make sure that we stop and breathe every once in a while, that we replenish ourselves physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Yes, God wants us to work hard and to serve him with everything we've got. But he also wants us to relax and talk with friends, to sit and be contemplative, to stuff ourselves full of turkey, potatoes, and pie and to fall asleep in front of the TV during a football game. We need to take advantage of these opportunities for rest, these times to refill our empty selves. Otherwise, it's like trying to pour milk on your cereal from an empty jug. And dry Corn Flakes only get us so far.
Have an awesome Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for all of you, whether I know you're out there in Internetland or not. Read the other blogs on the sidebar (especially Charlie's post "Campus Craziness. He makes some especially good points in that one.) Go relax and think about something significant. Go read a book that you want to read, not just one you have to read for class. Watch some basketball. Eat Spangles. Actually, I guess I'm telling you all to do all the things I plan on doing with my week. So what I mean is this: Be like me this week. How egocentric of me.
My body is tired. My mind is tired. My emotions are tired. And now I'm home for Thanksgiving break, sitting on my mattress that doesn't sink in like my one at school, tapping away at my keyboard while I sip a Coke with a picture of Santa Claus on the can. And it's all so refreshing to feel like I can stop and breathe for a change. I don't think I've ever looked forward to a break from school so much before. If I didn't get a break for a couple weeks later, I very well may have lost my mind. It's actually one of my fears in life to go crazy. I'm pretty certain that someday down the road, I'm going to go insane, except I won't know I'm insane and I'll think everyone is out to get me, kind of like in A Beautiful Mind. But at least then they can make a movie about me: A Mediocre Mind. It'll be a hit.
Rest is so important in life, and yet we often do a terrible time of practicing it. This is probably in part because of our culture, where so much is demanded from us in so many spheres of life. When your days are full of classes and homework and meetings and responsibilities, topped off by relationships and hobbies, and then topped off even more with frustrations and disappointments, it becomes difficult to create a little bit of space for mind and body to rest. In addition to that, many of us do waste so much time. When we need to get something done, we sit around on facebook or writing blog posts, which just pushes off our responsibilities, which then pushes into our times of rest. The only result of this is that we feel more and more weighed down, and we drag our aching bodies out of bed and down a canister of 5-Hour Energy just to make it through the day. We're not made to be able to handle all that, and we nearly lose our minds because of all the furious activity of our lives.
I think it's so cool that God wants us to rest. In fact, for the Israelites, he commanded it by telling them to keep the Sabbath day holy and to abstain from work. He knows that our tendency is to work ourselves into the ground, so he wants to make sure that we stop and breathe every once in a while, that we replenish ourselves physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Yes, God wants us to work hard and to serve him with everything we've got. But he also wants us to relax and talk with friends, to sit and be contemplative, to stuff ourselves full of turkey, potatoes, and pie and to fall asleep in front of the TV during a football game. We need to take advantage of these opportunities for rest, these times to refill our empty selves. Otherwise, it's like trying to pour milk on your cereal from an empty jug. And dry Corn Flakes only get us so far.
Have an awesome Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for all of you, whether I know you're out there in Internetland or not. Read the other blogs on the sidebar (especially Charlie's post "Campus Craziness. He makes some especially good points in that one.) Go relax and think about something significant. Go read a book that you want to read, not just one you have to read for class. Watch some basketball. Eat Spangles. Actually, I guess I'm telling you all to do all the things I plan on doing with my week. So what I mean is this: Be like me this week. How egocentric of me.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Life is Stupid. Enjoy.
A few days ago, Charlie, Connor, and myself decided that we needed to take a trip. In the middle of suffering through the trenches of this time of the semester, sometimes you just need to get out of the dorm and go blow off some steam. So we did what any three single, crazy guys would do: we went to Wal-mart and Taco Bell. After Charlie had checked out and were waiting for Connor because he had to write a check like an old lady, I talked with Charlie about how I tend to take the same three or four topics and write about them in pretty much all my blog posts. I just recycle the same ideas and put different words to them. It's really sad, actually. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I've written before about how I use the same few topics all the time. So there's that.
From time to time, I'm accused of being a pessimist. It's a pretty fair characterization. Whereas other people see the glass as either half full or half empty, I usually see it as all empty. I really am trying to work at it. I decided constant negativity is probably a pretty unattractive quality. I don't think I'm quite as pessimistic as some people think, however. Most of it is a joke. A pinch of fatalism and self-degradation can be funny, but there is a fine line between funny and obnoxious, and I probably fall into the latter category too often.
All of that ties in only very loosely with what I'm writing about tonight. This past week, I was reminded several times about just how dumb life can be sometimes. I'm often reminded of this fact, and I often write about it. But this week, I've decided to put a more positive twist on it. Because life is dumb, but it's also funny sometimes precisely because it is dumb. It's full of unfortunate circumstances and tragic ironies that force you to sit back and think, "Wow, I can't believe this is how things work out. It's better than a movie script."
Bad things happen, and as I've written before, they're worth getting upset about. A lot of the time we try to stuff our emotions so that we don't let others find out that not everything is peachy. I think being genuine and open is normally a positive thing, and that's coming from someone who rarely shows any emotion at all. But at the same time, we often take ourselves way too seriously. We think every little bump in the road of life is a cosmic tragedy of cataclysmic proportions, and we drag our feet and hang our head and complain that "no one has ever gone through what I'm going through." And then we sulk in our locked rooms and listen to music that reminds us of how terrible life is while we devour a box of Cheez-Its out of our angst.
It's time for a shift in perspective. When something unfavorable happens, look at the humor in the situation and smile. As cliche as it may sound, a year down the road, whatever problem you had will probably seem like nothing. Yet we become so focused on what we don't like that we're unable to take a step back and enjoy it, not by overlooking or ignoring it but precisely because it kind of sucks. Life is a joke sometimes and people are ridiculous and thing turn out like they were never supposed to, and it's all so awesome. I think one of the best qualities a person can have is the ability to laugh at himself--to see a bigger picture of a situation and to say "Man, my life a joke, and I look like an idiot. That's pretty funny."
At church last week, we were challenged to think about which of the fruit of the Spirit we want to make more evident in our relationships. I decided mine should be joy. If you know me, there's a good chance that at some point in our relationship, I've either ignored you, made fun of you, or just been a jerk to you. And I really do apologize for that. I like people, I swear. I like life, and I like to laugh, and I like to laugh at life. So enjoy it all. So when the glass looks empty, don't just throw yourself into a state of lament. Fill it back up with Coke and drink it down again.
Tonight I enjoyed some delicious Chick-fil-A with my good friend Caitlyn. She's really smart but said she doesn't have much of a desire to write anything. I, on the other hand, am not very smart but like to write. So I thought, "Hey, we should collaborate!" And then I said my thought out loud. So be on the lookout for a Heffren/Lippitt post sometime in the near to distant future. (This is my hook that makes you come back and read again. Hope it works!)
From time to time, I'm accused of being a pessimist. It's a pretty fair characterization. Whereas other people see the glass as either half full or half empty, I usually see it as all empty. I really am trying to work at it. I decided constant negativity is probably a pretty unattractive quality. I don't think I'm quite as pessimistic as some people think, however. Most of it is a joke. A pinch of fatalism and self-degradation can be funny, but there is a fine line between funny and obnoxious, and I probably fall into the latter category too often.
All of that ties in only very loosely with what I'm writing about tonight. This past week, I was reminded several times about just how dumb life can be sometimes. I'm often reminded of this fact, and I often write about it. But this week, I've decided to put a more positive twist on it. Because life is dumb, but it's also funny sometimes precisely because it is dumb. It's full of unfortunate circumstances and tragic ironies that force you to sit back and think, "Wow, I can't believe this is how things work out. It's better than a movie script."
Bad things happen, and as I've written before, they're worth getting upset about. A lot of the time we try to stuff our emotions so that we don't let others find out that not everything is peachy. I think being genuine and open is normally a positive thing, and that's coming from someone who rarely shows any emotion at all. But at the same time, we often take ourselves way too seriously. We think every little bump in the road of life is a cosmic tragedy of cataclysmic proportions, and we drag our feet and hang our head and complain that "no one has ever gone through what I'm going through." And then we sulk in our locked rooms and listen to music that reminds us of how terrible life is while we devour a box of Cheez-Its out of our angst.
It's time for a shift in perspective. When something unfavorable happens, look at the humor in the situation and smile. As cliche as it may sound, a year down the road, whatever problem you had will probably seem like nothing. Yet we become so focused on what we don't like that we're unable to take a step back and enjoy it, not by overlooking or ignoring it but precisely because it kind of sucks. Life is a joke sometimes and people are ridiculous and thing turn out like they were never supposed to, and it's all so awesome. I think one of the best qualities a person can have is the ability to laugh at himself--to see a bigger picture of a situation and to say "Man, my life a joke, and I look like an idiot. That's pretty funny."
At church last week, we were challenged to think about which of the fruit of the Spirit we want to make more evident in our relationships. I decided mine should be joy. If you know me, there's a good chance that at some point in our relationship, I've either ignored you, made fun of you, or just been a jerk to you. And I really do apologize for that. I like people, I swear. I like life, and I like to laugh, and I like to laugh at life. So enjoy it all. So when the glass looks empty, don't just throw yourself into a state of lament. Fill it back up with Coke and drink it down again.
Tonight I enjoyed some delicious Chick-fil-A with my good friend Caitlyn. She's really smart but said she doesn't have much of a desire to write anything. I, on the other hand, am not very smart but like to write. So I thought, "Hey, we should collaborate!" And then I said my thought out loud. So be on the lookout for a Heffren/Lippitt post sometime in the near to distant future. (This is my hook that makes you come back and read again. Hope it works!)
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Last One Picked
Sadly, I feel that I end up having to say this at the beginning of many of my posts, but I'm deeply sorry that it has been so long since I have written anything. Life has been out of control. Or more specifically, schoolwork has been out of control. This semester has definitely been the most stressful in that sense than any of my other semesters. If there is ever a chance of me dropping out of school and going back to working at Blockbuster, this is probably when it will happen. But even though things have been busy, they have not been all bad. My good friend Angie flew out from California to hang out with us Midwesterners this last weekend, and that was a ton of fun. We went to a corn maze and made a sweet video that you need to go on facebook and check out. Angie is very cool and good at Wii and is very smart, and she has a blog that you should go check out; there's a link in the Bloggolution bar on the side. Speaking of that, Jessie recently created a blog, so you should check that out too: www.runningthroughmoments.blogspot.com.
Tonight I'm returning to a theme that I know have touched on several times before, but it's an important one, I think, so I will rehash it again now. I've been thinking lately about the various places we seek approval. A lot of people like to come off as an independent renegade, so they say that they don't care a lick about what anyone thinks, but I usually doubt that. We work so hard to make sure that our friends, families, acquaintances, and even random strangers have a positive view of us. We like to be liked, and we turn to the world to receive that approval.
But there's a problem. The world will constantly tell us that we aren't good enough, and we'd better do all we can to pull ourselves up to the level of its acceptance. So we have to change our appearance so we can look like that guy or try to be as smart as that guy or to be as athletic as that guy or to have as much money as that guy, and it goes on and on and on. In effect, we're left to pull ourselves up by our own hair so that we can reach the plateau that the world tells us we need to achieve. But no matter how hard we try and how much we fix ourselves up, we always come up short. There is always some other area in which we need to improve ourselves.
It's similar with God in a small sense, but thankfully, it's much, much different. Like the world, God also tells us that we aren't good enough. We don't live up to the standard that God has set as acceptable. But he says, "You're not good enough. And that's ok. I can make you good." We aren't told to lift ourselves up God's perfect standard. He gives it to us, and he accepts us as we come. He isn't put off by our lack of talent, our asymmetrical features, or our annoying idiosyncrasies. He genuinely likes us and wants to be with us.
One of the dumbest things we do as humans is that we keep chasing after the world's elusive approval instead of God's. It doesn't make sense. We receive our own self-worth from the opinions of others, even though it always fails, and all the while God is saying, "I love you and care about you and accept you as you are!" Why can't we be happy with that? Why do we keep trying to draw water out of a dry well when there is another one overflowing right next to it?
There's a children's picture book called Are You My Mother? In the book, a little baby bird hatches while his mother is gone, so he goes around, asking all sorts of things if they are his mother. He asks a cat and a cow and a dog if they are his mother, but they each say no, so he moves on to asking a boat and a plane and a power shovel. I think we are sort of like the baby bird. It's like each of us is holding our little hearts, and we go through life asking all sorts of different people and things, "Can you guard my heart? Can you protect it and let me know that I'm good enough? Can you satisfy?" But in the end, all of those things fail to do what we ask, because we weren't made for them. As the baby bird is finally united with his mother in the end of the book, we need to turn to God, hand our hearts over to him, and allow him to define us and let us know that we're alright.
Last winter I went on Ozark's Spiritual Formation Retreat. It was really good and helped me get a lot of things on track that I needed to. On the first night of the retreat, one of the professors read Psalm 62 to us, and we just meditated on it a bit. Here's a few select verses from that psalm: "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken...Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him."
I remember that when I heard this psalm, what stuck out to me most was the repeated use of the word "alone." God alone is enough. God alone is fulfilling. I especially like it in connection with the word "fortress." It makes me think of a castle. A castle is built of a bunch of different stones. If my life is a castle, if my self-worth is a castle, those different stones may be where I draw that worth. So the different stones may be all the different relationships that I depend on to make it through life. Obviously, the biggest stone should be God, but there are other smaller stones for my friends and family and such.
The problem with this castle is that it's unstable. If I build my worth even in part on what other people think of me, I'm sitting on a pretty shaky structure. Granted, I've been blessed with some people in my life that have always been there. But if I establish myself on this friend or that family member or that girl, I'm building on the wrong thing. God alone needs to be my rock and fortress. Even if his stone makes up the majority of the castle, it's not enough. He needs to be the whole thing, because he's the only one who is perfectly sturdy. A castle built on anything else is always in danger of collapsing.
I've written before that contentment can be a difficult thing for me to attain. And I imagine that I'm not the only one. When situations don't work out the way I want them to and when I feel let down by circumstances or by myself, it can be hard to be satisfied knowing that God still has my back. I might feel like I need something else in addition to that, but the truth is that I don't. I'm not totally sure how to deal with that. I guess we just need reminders, and we need each other for encouragement.
It's like kickball. I might be the last kid picked by the world. But I'm chosen by God. And his kickball team generally wins.
Tonight I'm returning to a theme that I know have touched on several times before, but it's an important one, I think, so I will rehash it again now. I've been thinking lately about the various places we seek approval. A lot of people like to come off as an independent renegade, so they say that they don't care a lick about what anyone thinks, but I usually doubt that. We work so hard to make sure that our friends, families, acquaintances, and even random strangers have a positive view of us. We like to be liked, and we turn to the world to receive that approval.
But there's a problem. The world will constantly tell us that we aren't good enough, and we'd better do all we can to pull ourselves up to the level of its acceptance. So we have to change our appearance so we can look like that guy or try to be as smart as that guy or to be as athletic as that guy or to have as much money as that guy, and it goes on and on and on. In effect, we're left to pull ourselves up by our own hair so that we can reach the plateau that the world tells us we need to achieve. But no matter how hard we try and how much we fix ourselves up, we always come up short. There is always some other area in which we need to improve ourselves.
It's similar with God in a small sense, but thankfully, it's much, much different. Like the world, God also tells us that we aren't good enough. We don't live up to the standard that God has set as acceptable. But he says, "You're not good enough. And that's ok. I can make you good." We aren't told to lift ourselves up God's perfect standard. He gives it to us, and he accepts us as we come. He isn't put off by our lack of talent, our asymmetrical features, or our annoying idiosyncrasies. He genuinely likes us and wants to be with us.
One of the dumbest things we do as humans is that we keep chasing after the world's elusive approval instead of God's. It doesn't make sense. We receive our own self-worth from the opinions of others, even though it always fails, and all the while God is saying, "I love you and care about you and accept you as you are!" Why can't we be happy with that? Why do we keep trying to draw water out of a dry well when there is another one overflowing right next to it?
There's a children's picture book called Are You My Mother? In the book, a little baby bird hatches while his mother is gone, so he goes around, asking all sorts of things if they are his mother. He asks a cat and a cow and a dog if they are his mother, but they each say no, so he moves on to asking a boat and a plane and a power shovel. I think we are sort of like the baby bird. It's like each of us is holding our little hearts, and we go through life asking all sorts of different people and things, "Can you guard my heart? Can you protect it and let me know that I'm good enough? Can you satisfy?" But in the end, all of those things fail to do what we ask, because we weren't made for them. As the baby bird is finally united with his mother in the end of the book, we need to turn to God, hand our hearts over to him, and allow him to define us and let us know that we're alright.
Last winter I went on Ozark's Spiritual Formation Retreat. It was really good and helped me get a lot of things on track that I needed to. On the first night of the retreat, one of the professors read Psalm 62 to us, and we just meditated on it a bit. Here's a few select verses from that psalm: "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken...Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him."
I remember that when I heard this psalm, what stuck out to me most was the repeated use of the word "alone." God alone is enough. God alone is fulfilling. I especially like it in connection with the word "fortress." It makes me think of a castle. A castle is built of a bunch of different stones. If my life is a castle, if my self-worth is a castle, those different stones may be where I draw that worth. So the different stones may be all the different relationships that I depend on to make it through life. Obviously, the biggest stone should be God, but there are other smaller stones for my friends and family and such.
The problem with this castle is that it's unstable. If I build my worth even in part on what other people think of me, I'm sitting on a pretty shaky structure. Granted, I've been blessed with some people in my life that have always been there. But if I establish myself on this friend or that family member or that girl, I'm building on the wrong thing. God alone needs to be my rock and fortress. Even if his stone makes up the majority of the castle, it's not enough. He needs to be the whole thing, because he's the only one who is perfectly sturdy. A castle built on anything else is always in danger of collapsing.
I've written before that contentment can be a difficult thing for me to attain. And I imagine that I'm not the only one. When situations don't work out the way I want them to and when I feel let down by circumstances or by myself, it can be hard to be satisfied knowing that God still has my back. I might feel like I need something else in addition to that, but the truth is that I don't. I'm not totally sure how to deal with that. I guess we just need reminders, and we need each other for encouragement.
It's like kickball. I might be the last kid picked by the world. But I'm chosen by God. And his kickball team generally wins.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
When Church Runs Long
"'Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.' When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, 'Brothers, what shall we do?' Peter replied, 'Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off--for all whom the Lord our God will call.' With many other words he warned them; and he pleaded with them, 'Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.' Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand were added to their number that day."
-Acts 2:36-41
I've been a Christian for a long time. There has never been a time in my life when I was not involved with the church. I went to the little kids' Sunday School classes when I was young and I sang "This Little Light of Mine" and I made plenty of crafts out of popsicle sticks and googly eyes. I went to the camps and CIYs. And now I go to class for 19 hours a week and learn about the Bible and how to best tell people about Jesus. And for as long as I can remember, Sunday mornings means church. Because of that fact, along with my own apathy, church can unfortunately seem very ho-hum. When I wake up on Sunday mornings, my first thought is not, "Man, I can't wait to see what God's going to do at church today!" I expect to go church and sing some songs and listen to a sermon and eat some donuts and then come home. Nothing more. Everything that happens at church is completely expected.
But today I saw something that I've never seen before. For the last several weeks, our preacher has been preaching a series called "The Journey." It's been all about what conversion to Christianity means. The first week was about faith, the second about confession, the third about repentance, and finally, today was about baptism. Of course, the sermon ended with a pretty overt invitation for people to be baptized. There was no time like now, the preacher said. It's what God has commanded us to do, and it's how we begin our lives with him.
I tried to keep count of how many people were baptized, but I lost track around 20. I would guess it ended at about 30-35. Old people were baptized. Young people were baptized. Guys were being baptized and then turning around and baptizing their brothers. An Ozark student was baptized. For I don't know, 40 minutes, people just kept coming up to surrender their lives to Christ. The service went quite a bit longer than is typical. It was insane. I had never seen God get so out-of-control. Or more accurately, I had never seen Christians allow God to be so out-of-control.
In a way, I was sometimes skeptical. I mean, there's a system for these types of things, you know? First you mark on your attendance card that you're interested in becoming a Christian, and then one of the elders comes to your house for coffee, and then you meet with the senior minister, and then you read some stuff, and then you come forward at church and are baptized. You can't just run up into the water because you've heard God speak and want to give yourself to him, can you?
We want to have control over so much of what happens in conversion. And for good reason. We want people to understand what is happening when they're baptized. We don't want them making this decision just because it's the "churchy" thing to do or because their friend did it. I was baptized when I was nine years old, and I think it was too soon. I think I believed in Jesus, but I didn't really understand what it meant to be a Christian, to no longer live for myself but only for him. Yet at the same time, there is incredible value and power in someone simply saying, "I don't know everything about God, and I don't know what the road ahead may hold, but I know that I need Jesus and want to belong to him." It's so beautifully faithful and trusting. It's almost like the type of trust a child would have. And word on the street is that that's what Jesus is looking for.
I've been doing a lot of reading about the history of the church recently. Not so much by choice, but due to the fact that I'm taking Church History Readings this semester. What that means is that instead of going to class, I just do a lot of reading and then take quizzes on the books I read. There's a book due every two weeks, but I'm not much of a fan of staying on top of my responsibilities. So I spent this last Friday and Saturday morning reading 400 pages of history. Fun weekend. But anyways, I read about all these crazy revivals in the life of the church where people would travel from miles just to hear a preacher proclaim the gospel, and then thousands of people who give their lives to Christ. Some of the stories are absolutely nuts. Of course, it's just history. The world has changed since the time of the Great Awakening. People are much more sober and well-educated. They won't get caught up in spiritual excitement. Revivals are dead.
What we forget is that there's still a Spirit that likes to reassemble skeletons' dry bones and breath life in them. That there's a God who is still reconciling creation to himself. That there's a Christ that is supreme over the universe. Sure, these great revivals we read about happened a while back, but the God who initiated them is still working. Maybe the problem is that we're too busy cramping his style. We get so concerned about controlling what happens in the church that we're not listening to the head of the church. We want people to come to our churches, so we only preach practical self-help sermons and put the good news about Jesus' resurrection on the shelf. I hope revivals aren't dead, and I wonder why one can't start in little Carterville, Missouri until it stretches across the entire globe.
None of the people at church made it to the buffets as early as they usually do today. But there was a great deal of rejoicing and celebration among the angels in heaven this morning. And somehow, I think that may be more important that an early lunch.
-Acts 2:36-41
I've been a Christian for a long time. There has never been a time in my life when I was not involved with the church. I went to the little kids' Sunday School classes when I was young and I sang "This Little Light of Mine" and I made plenty of crafts out of popsicle sticks and googly eyes. I went to the camps and CIYs. And now I go to class for 19 hours a week and learn about the Bible and how to best tell people about Jesus. And for as long as I can remember, Sunday mornings means church. Because of that fact, along with my own apathy, church can unfortunately seem very ho-hum. When I wake up on Sunday mornings, my first thought is not, "Man, I can't wait to see what God's going to do at church today!" I expect to go church and sing some songs and listen to a sermon and eat some donuts and then come home. Nothing more. Everything that happens at church is completely expected.
But today I saw something that I've never seen before. For the last several weeks, our preacher has been preaching a series called "The Journey." It's been all about what conversion to Christianity means. The first week was about faith, the second about confession, the third about repentance, and finally, today was about baptism. Of course, the sermon ended with a pretty overt invitation for people to be baptized. There was no time like now, the preacher said. It's what God has commanded us to do, and it's how we begin our lives with him.
I tried to keep count of how many people were baptized, but I lost track around 20. I would guess it ended at about 30-35. Old people were baptized. Young people were baptized. Guys were being baptized and then turning around and baptizing their brothers. An Ozark student was baptized. For I don't know, 40 minutes, people just kept coming up to surrender their lives to Christ. The service went quite a bit longer than is typical. It was insane. I had never seen God get so out-of-control. Or more accurately, I had never seen Christians allow God to be so out-of-control.
In a way, I was sometimes skeptical. I mean, there's a system for these types of things, you know? First you mark on your attendance card that you're interested in becoming a Christian, and then one of the elders comes to your house for coffee, and then you meet with the senior minister, and then you read some stuff, and then you come forward at church and are baptized. You can't just run up into the water because you've heard God speak and want to give yourself to him, can you?
We want to have control over so much of what happens in conversion. And for good reason. We want people to understand what is happening when they're baptized. We don't want them making this decision just because it's the "churchy" thing to do or because their friend did it. I was baptized when I was nine years old, and I think it was too soon. I think I believed in Jesus, but I didn't really understand what it meant to be a Christian, to no longer live for myself but only for him. Yet at the same time, there is incredible value and power in someone simply saying, "I don't know everything about God, and I don't know what the road ahead may hold, but I know that I need Jesus and want to belong to him." It's so beautifully faithful and trusting. It's almost like the type of trust a child would have. And word on the street is that that's what Jesus is looking for.
I've been doing a lot of reading about the history of the church recently. Not so much by choice, but due to the fact that I'm taking Church History Readings this semester. What that means is that instead of going to class, I just do a lot of reading and then take quizzes on the books I read. There's a book due every two weeks, but I'm not much of a fan of staying on top of my responsibilities. So I spent this last Friday and Saturday morning reading 400 pages of history. Fun weekend. But anyways, I read about all these crazy revivals in the life of the church where people would travel from miles just to hear a preacher proclaim the gospel, and then thousands of people who give their lives to Christ. Some of the stories are absolutely nuts. Of course, it's just history. The world has changed since the time of the Great Awakening. People are much more sober and well-educated. They won't get caught up in spiritual excitement. Revivals are dead.
What we forget is that there's still a Spirit that likes to reassemble skeletons' dry bones and breath life in them. That there's a God who is still reconciling creation to himself. That there's a Christ that is supreme over the universe. Sure, these great revivals we read about happened a while back, but the God who initiated them is still working. Maybe the problem is that we're too busy cramping his style. We get so concerned about controlling what happens in the church that we're not listening to the head of the church. We want people to come to our churches, so we only preach practical self-help sermons and put the good news about Jesus' resurrection on the shelf. I hope revivals aren't dead, and I wonder why one can't start in little Carterville, Missouri until it stretches across the entire globe.
None of the people at church made it to the buffets as early as they usually do today. But there was a great deal of rejoicing and celebration among the angels in heaven this morning. And somehow, I think that may be more important that an early lunch.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Praise From ______
People like attention. Nobody wants to be just another nameless face in the crowd. We all want to be known, to have people wave at us and yell, "Hey David, how's it going?!" And then there are the unfortunate incidents where you think you see someone unexpectedly wave at you, so you sheepishly raise your arm to wave back, only to realize that they were actually waving at someone behind you, and you feel like a complete idiot and decide not to make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the day.
But the point remains that we all like to be recognized. The reason FFA kids spend so much time learning how to judge livestock is so that they can get a nice shiny medal to drape around their necks. Grown men spend hours playing Pac-Man at the laundromat so that they can enter their initials in the high scores list. Band students nearly make themselves go crazy from practice in hopes of nailing that sweet oboe solo. And perhaps too often, Christians do good things, waiting to be applauded for being so spiritual or loving or pious.
In John 5:41-44, Jesus says, "I do not accept praise from men, but I know you. I know that you do not have the love of God in your hearts. I have come in my Father's name, and you do not accept me; but if someone else comes in his own name, you will accept him. How can you believe if you accept praise from one another, yet make no effort to obtain the praise that comes from the only God?"
If there has ever been someone who had the right to bring attention to himself, it would be Jesus. He could do whatever he wanted. He would have been the most interesting person in any conversation, and he could one-up anyone's clever comment or funny story. He lived a sinless life and could have gone around saying, "Hey everybody! You should all come tell me how great and awesome I am!" But Jesus' focus really wasn't on himself as much as it was on glorifying the Father. He wasn't all that concerned about whether or not everyone thought he was the best thing ever, and he was the best thing ever. Actually, he knew that people would hate him and want to kill him, but he didn't change the things he said or did just to suit their preferences. His sole purpose was making God happy, and he knew that if he did this faithfully, the Father would glorify him (Jn. 8:54).
I wrote for my high school newspaper, and I was always excited on days when new issues would come out. It was always satisfying to see a byline with my name on it on the front page, and I would see a bunch of students at lunch or in classes flipping through the pages that I had worked on. It was even better when I was the editor my senior year, because each issue I would have a column where I could write about whatever I felt like, and not only did my name appear, but my beautiful picture as well. I loved when another student or a teacher would see me and comment that they thought my column was funny.
It's the same kind of desire for recognition that creeps its way into the rest of our lives, even our pursuits to do good things for God. All of us want others to notice all of the great things we do from time to time, unless I'm the only one with an inflated ego. We like it when the little old ladies at church tell us how much they loved our sermon, when we get asked to lead worship for a chapel service, and when all the lazy bums in a congregation notice us dutifully stacking chairs. We put little pictures of ourselves looking thoughtful on the sidebar of our blogs. So even when we're working for God, we try to slap a sticker with our name and smiling face on it, just so people know who's responsible.
I wonder how many of us are willing to be anonymous for God's sake. Would I be content spending my life humbly serving at a little church in the middle of nowhere if it meant bringing more glory to God? Would I be happy if no book ever has my name on the cover, no conference has my picture on the speaking schedule, and no podcast has my voice broadcast to cyberspace? Not to mean that we shouldn't dream of doing crazy-big things for God, but we have to make sure that we're actually doing them for God and not ourselves.
Tomorrow (Sept 22) is National Elephant Day. Go nuts. Life is good.
But the point remains that we all like to be recognized. The reason FFA kids spend so much time learning how to judge livestock is so that they can get a nice shiny medal to drape around their necks. Grown men spend hours playing Pac-Man at the laundromat so that they can enter their initials in the high scores list. Band students nearly make themselves go crazy from practice in hopes of nailing that sweet oboe solo. And perhaps too often, Christians do good things, waiting to be applauded for being so spiritual or loving or pious.
In John 5:41-44, Jesus says, "I do not accept praise from men, but I know you. I know that you do not have the love of God in your hearts. I have come in my Father's name, and you do not accept me; but if someone else comes in his own name, you will accept him. How can you believe if you accept praise from one another, yet make no effort to obtain the praise that comes from the only God?"
If there has ever been someone who had the right to bring attention to himself, it would be Jesus. He could do whatever he wanted. He would have been the most interesting person in any conversation, and he could one-up anyone's clever comment or funny story. He lived a sinless life and could have gone around saying, "Hey everybody! You should all come tell me how great and awesome I am!" But Jesus' focus really wasn't on himself as much as it was on glorifying the Father. He wasn't all that concerned about whether or not everyone thought he was the best thing ever, and he was the best thing ever. Actually, he knew that people would hate him and want to kill him, but he didn't change the things he said or did just to suit their preferences. His sole purpose was making God happy, and he knew that if he did this faithfully, the Father would glorify him (Jn. 8:54).
I wrote for my high school newspaper, and I was always excited on days when new issues would come out. It was always satisfying to see a byline with my name on it on the front page, and I would see a bunch of students at lunch or in classes flipping through the pages that I had worked on. It was even better when I was the editor my senior year, because each issue I would have a column where I could write about whatever I felt like, and not only did my name appear, but my beautiful picture as well. I loved when another student or a teacher would see me and comment that they thought my column was funny.
It's the same kind of desire for recognition that creeps its way into the rest of our lives, even our pursuits to do good things for God. All of us want others to notice all of the great things we do from time to time, unless I'm the only one with an inflated ego. We like it when the little old ladies at church tell us how much they loved our sermon, when we get asked to lead worship for a chapel service, and when all the lazy bums in a congregation notice us dutifully stacking chairs. We put little pictures of ourselves looking thoughtful on the sidebar of our blogs. So even when we're working for God, we try to slap a sticker with our name and smiling face on it, just so people know who's responsible.
I wonder how many of us are willing to be anonymous for God's sake. Would I be content spending my life humbly serving at a little church in the middle of nowhere if it meant bringing more glory to God? Would I be happy if no book ever has my name on the cover, no conference has my picture on the speaking schedule, and no podcast has my voice broadcast to cyberspace? Not to mean that we shouldn't dream of doing crazy-big things for God, but we have to make sure that we're actually doing them for God and not ourselves.
Tomorrow (Sept 22) is National Elephant Day. Go nuts. Life is good.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Going to the Chapel
I went to a wedding this last weekend. That's what Ozark people do on their weekends--they go to weddings, because there's one pretty much every weekend, and we all really like cake and little cheese cubes. It was a very nice wedding, with a very simple service and a ton of guests and a little candy buffet at the reception. Fun was had by all, although the lengthy drive along I-44 was less than riveting, except for the mysterious fog that was centered on an adult video store by the highway on our way home.
Many weddings have a time of special music during the ceremony when one of the participants' friends sings a song while the couple takes communion or lights a unity candle or pours some unity sand or whatever, and this wedding was no exception. I always feel like this time is a little bit awkward, because the song usually goes a little longer than the partaking of community and the sand, so it ends up with everyone standing around while the musician finishes up. During this time, you can see the couple talking to each other a little bit to break the awkward tension of just standing there.
I commented to my friend sitting next to me at the ceremony that I always wonder what the couple is saying when they're talking up there. If they follow the tradition about the groom not seeing the bride on the wedding day until the ceremony, then this is the first time the two have talked all day. It's got to be a terribly odd time, I would think. So I thought about what I would probably talk about, and it would probably involve such enthralling statements as: "Hey...so....how are you?" or "So what'd you have for lunch today?" or "Did you see that the Reds won last night?"
I'm a pretty poor conversationalist as it is, and I can't imagine that I'm going to become wildly entertaining when I'm dressed in a tuxedo on stage with all of my family and friends staring at me. So if the future Mrs. Heffren is out there reading this, I apologize far in advance for that slot in the ceremony. But hopefully by that time, you'll already know that I'm fairly lame and at least have become used to that fact. If you haven't realized it by then, I guess you're in for a pretty long life.
Many weddings have a time of special music during the ceremony when one of the participants' friends sings a song while the couple takes communion or lights a unity candle or pours some unity sand or whatever, and this wedding was no exception. I always feel like this time is a little bit awkward, because the song usually goes a little longer than the partaking of community and the sand, so it ends up with everyone standing around while the musician finishes up. During this time, you can see the couple talking to each other a little bit to break the awkward tension of just standing there.
I commented to my friend sitting next to me at the ceremony that I always wonder what the couple is saying when they're talking up there. If they follow the tradition about the groom not seeing the bride on the wedding day until the ceremony, then this is the first time the two have talked all day. It's got to be a terribly odd time, I would think. So I thought about what I would probably talk about, and it would probably involve such enthralling statements as: "Hey...so....how are you?" or "So what'd you have for lunch today?" or "Did you see that the Reds won last night?"
I'm a pretty poor conversationalist as it is, and I can't imagine that I'm going to become wildly entertaining when I'm dressed in a tuxedo on stage with all of my family and friends staring at me. So if the future Mrs. Heffren is out there reading this, I apologize far in advance for that slot in the ceremony. But hopefully by that time, you'll already know that I'm fairly lame and at least have become used to that fact. If you haven't realized it by then, I guess you're in for a pretty long life.
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