Why I'm Going to Just Start Flipping Coins

It's astounding to me how many decisions a person is faced with in the course of every single day. When an individual's alarm goes off in the morning, he is forced to decide whether he's going to roll out of bed or hit the snooze button. Then he needs to decide whether it's a shower or Febreeze type of day. He makes decisions on what to eat for breakfast, which radio station to listen to on his way to work, what words to use as he greets his coworkers, and the list goes on and on. All of this happens even before lunch. Life is a series of choices, and we typically don't give much thought to most of them.

If, however, a person has an especially difficult time making decisions, the prospect of being faced with all of these choices can be a little overwhelming, particularly when it comes to "big" decisions. A person might agonize four hours, days, or even weeks trying to sort through a tough decision, worried that a wrong choice will have permanent negative consequences. Then, after that person eventually does come to a decision, he worries that he's made the wrong one, and he is constantly doubting himself and asking "What if?"

I'm not sure why I'm writing about this topic by using an imaginary person who is faced with a decision. The truth is that I'm exactly the type of person I described in the previous paragraph. When it comes to many decisions that I need to make, I stress out and worry myself into near insanity. Then, after I've made a decision, I keep beating myself up over it. I'm rarely happy with a decision I make. It's a very unhealthy way to be, really.

A few personal examples might suffice to show what I mean. In fact, I can give examples from just this week. Every once in a while, people use the term "buyer's remorse"--that sense of regret that a person has after making a purchase. I get buyer's remorse with almost everything I buy, with only a few exceptions. I've never regretted buying a Coke to drink, because 24 years of experience has taught me that I enjoy that. Chick-fil-A is also always a good choice for lunch. But when it comes to other purchases, I'm never really happy after I swipe my debit card through and walk out with a new possession.

My glasses broke a couple nights ago, so this morning I went to the optometrist for an eye exam and to pick out a new pair of glasses. It took me quite a while to consider each of the frames on display before I finally chose out a few to try on. Eventually I narrowed them down to the one I wanted, and I think they'll look sharp. This is a very important matter to me, because I need to have good-looking glasses to distract people from what's going on with the rest of my face. And even though I like the ones I picked out, I know that when I go back to pick them up next week, I'm going to hate them for a while. They'll feel uncomfortable, and they'll pinch my nose, and the new lenses will give me a headache, and I'll think I look like a dweeb. And I'll walk around mumbling to myself for a few days, debating with my psyche about whether another frame would have been better.

I also got a new phone this morning. I was due for an upgrade, and the screen on my old one had been going bezerk for some time. I picked out a nice phone that, by measure of evaluating phones, is much better than my old one. I can get all sorts of apps, and it's much faster online, and it looks sleeker, and it will probably make girls all want to date me. But still.....the buttons on it are so small, and it doesn't fit in my pocket as well, and well, maybe I should have gotten a different one that is more like what I'm used to.

I often feel the same way when it comes to make bigger life decisions. I make a decision and before long, I start to regret it and wonder if I should have done differently. For example, I dated a girl my senior year of high school. Shocking, I know. But as the time approached for me to leave home and go to college, I started to realize that it wasn't a relationship I wanted to keep going. She was a great girl and all, but I was ready to start a new stage of life, and I didn't feel like I could do that while dating a girl who still had a couple years of high school left. So near the end of the summer, I broke up with her--a decisive action. And I felt good with my decision at first. But then I discovered that ABC Family showed episodes of Boy Meets World each weeknight, and I started watching at a point when Cory and Topanga had broken up but still loved each other and couldn't very well get on in life without each other. Believe me when I say that it's a bad idea to watch late-night episodes of Boy Meets World right after a breakup. And before long, I started to regret the decision I had made, and I got back together with this girl, which only resulted in another breakup a couple months later that I didn't handle very well, and the whole thing probably hurt her worse than if I had just let things be in the first place.

I wonder what it feels like to be a person who is content to just live with the decisions he makes. To be someone who, even if he chose wrongly, doesn't second-guess himself with every step he takes afterward. Someone who accepts the consequences of his choice, whether they be good or bad. Is it more liberating to live like that? Does one's stress-level come down and one's sense of joy increase?

I suppose that there's no harm in living like that when it comes to decisions that you can't do anything about after you make them. If I eat Taco Bell for lunch and later think that Burger King would have been a better choice, there's no sense in agonizing over it, because what's done is done. One of the most difficult decisions I've ever had to make concerned where I would go to grad school. I had two different options, and after intense personal deliberations and conversations with people smarter than me, I decided that Cincinnati was the right choice. But after I moved her, I often wondered if I had done the right thing. Some aspects of my life would be so much simpler if I had gone to the other school. But there isn't much reason for me to think like this for too long, because I can't do anything about it now without forfeiting a scholarship, moving to a cornfield, and leaving Great American Ballpark behind.

But what about when you do have the ability change a decision? If you begin to regret what you've done, is it often wise to retrace your steps? Will this only result in further back-and-forth and arguments in your mind?

Is it better to just throw yourself headlong into a decision, come what may? Or should we be always willing to recant and choose differently?

I really would like to sort all this out with a tidy conclusion. But I know that whatever I do settle on, I'll probably change my mind later today. Such is life.

Doing It Right

Success

That word can mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people. There are various forms of success in different spheres of life. Success on a basketball court means hoisting a trophy and cutting down the nets. Success in the business world means turning a large profit and flying around in a company jet. Success in the dating world means finding a girl that can handle being in your presence for at least twenty minutes without getting the dry heaves. Success in the street cred game means not getting beat up by school-aged girls who steal your money to buy a snack from the ice cream man.

I'm still working on that last one.

And the one before it, to be honest.

But what about success in ministry? I think that a lot of people in ministry are hesitant to even use the word "success" when talking about what they do. It can make it sound like a person is only interested in being upward mobility, climbing the ladder to the fanciest and poshest church. But we should be able to talk about success without bringing all those negative and inappropriate associations into the conversation. Anyone who is actually thinking wants to be successful in ministry, not for personal reasons, but because they want to bear fruit for God, build the church, and help spread the kingdom. Those are noble aims.

But how do we measure it? What defines success in ministry? That may be a difficult question to answer. Is it about bringing the most people to Christ? Is it about getting church members to be active in ministry and evangelism? Is it about helping people become more serious about Bible study and living a godly life? Is it about remaining personally faithful to God, regardless of whether anything in the church improves?

Right now I'm serving at a small country church of about 25 people. How do I determine whether or not my ministry is effective in that sort of situation? Sometimes I become disheartened when I think about why is happening through some of my friends' ministries. I hear stories about people being baptized, young people deciding to go into ministry, communities growing closer together, needs being met, and congregants being excited to be at church on Sunday mornings.

I don't see all of those things happen very often at my church. Now my intention here isn't to criticize or speak badly about my church in any way. I'm very thankful for the chance to serve there, and the people love God and encourage me. But still, it is often tough to know whether or not my ministry there is successful, at least when I compare it to what happens in other churches.

In the sort of situation I'm in, it may be important to look for small stories of success. I don't have crowds of people rushing forward on Sunday mornings to surrender their lives to Christ. But I am preaching a series about the importance of God's Word, and last week a man in his fifties asked me where would be a good spot to begin reading the Bible. And we don't have pulse-pounding worship with lights and fog machines. But a few weeks ago, the people in the sanctuary gathered in small groups to pray for our church. And that stuff is pretty cool when you're in a church where it doesn't seem like a whole lot has changed in 180 years.

A danger in focusing on the "little successes" is that we might become content with where we are and stop expecting larger things to happen. Can't God use a little church of 25 people to do incredible things in the world? Should I be content with people in my church spending five minutes in prayer together, or should I not be satisfied till there's more? Am I somehow selling myself short or putting God in a box? How do I balance dreams with realism?

Thankfully, there is one things I'm very successful at: Writing overly-long blog posts while staying up too late watching TV and stalking you on facebook.

We all have our gifts.

Buzzer Beater

I wouldn't do very well if I were in the NBA playoffs.

There are a number of obvious reasons for this. I'm not very big. I'm not very fast. I'm not very strong. And I'm not all that good at basketball. Also, I don't have a killer instinct. That's a very important element for being a successful NBA player in the playoffs. Now that that playoffs are in full swing, I hear a lot on TV about certain players having a killer instinct--the ability to put a game away when it comes down to the wire. A player with a killer instinct isn't afraid of the spotlight. In fact, he shines in the spotlight. He plays his best when its a one-possession game and the final seconds are ticking.

But that's not me.

I used to have it, I think. I even got an award for it. Not in basketball, of course. The only award I ever got for that were the little trophies all the kids got when I played in elementary school. One year, when the coach gave me my trophy, he said my award was being "The Best Shooter in Traffic." Which I don't think meant that I was a great shooter. I figure it meant I had poor shot selection.

In any case, I did get an award for having a killer instinct when I was on my high school's newspaper staff. At the end of each semester, we had a staff party, and we would eat chips and queso, and I would flirt with all the girls, and they would shoot me down. It was a good time. Then the editors would give out awards to everyone and say something nice about them. They called the award "Warm and Fuzzies." That's what happens when you have 20 girls on the staff and only three guys.

Anyways, one year my Warm and Fuzzie was for being "The Best Under Pressure." I was pretty proud of that. When I was on the newspaper staff, I knew how to get it done. Deadline day was my day. If there was someone who was sick and hadn't written their story, I would take it. If we needed a quotation to fill out an article, I would go do an interview. I'd do whatever needed done in order to get the paper ready for printing.

I had a killer instinct. Nowadays, though, I think I've lost it. A person with a killer instinct rises to the occasion. When they are in a situation when they need to perform, they don't disappoint. These days, when I face a situation when I need to perform, I do my best to put it off. When it's crunch time and I need to have a book written for class, I figure I can find some time later. When I agonizingly finish writing a paper, I don't bother reading back over it. When the spotlight shines, I duck back behind the curtain.

Is a killer instinct instinctive? Is it an innate trait that some people have and others don't? Or is it something that can be developed?  Are there steps a person can take in order to produce when it matters most?

Dreaming Together

I'm not very good at the things I write about.

Sometimes when I'm bored, I go to my blog and read a couple old posts. Why? Because I am just that egocentric. But as I've looked over some of these old posts, I've noticed that there are a few themes that pop up pretty frequently. I suppose that's how it is for any writer--they gravitate toward certain topics. There is a problem for me, however. I normally have no idea what I'm talking about. Many of the things that I tend to write about--taking risks, relationships, increasing productivity, trusting God--these are areas of life that I'm really not that great in. I'm not very good at the things I write about.

I could write about things that I do excel in, but I don't think many people want to read blog posts about eating chicken nuggets or sleeping past your alarm.

I guess that makes me a hypocrite. I encourage others to do something but then never do it myself. But maybe I'm only a hypocrite because we've come to think of the purpose of writing in a certain way. Our world today is so pragmatic. We focus so much on learning how to do certain things. We read books that give us tidy outlines and lists of steps for improving our lives. Since this is the situation in which we live, I feel the pull to write according to that model. When I start a post, I normally only have half an idea, and when I get to the end, I think, "Well, now I need to give readers some practical advice," so I make up some nonsense that I've never tried and that I'm not even sure will work. I might as well give singing lessons to Adele.

The problem with this pragmatism is that, while we might make good doers, we don't make good thinkers. When we only read or write about what we need to do to make our lives better, our imaginations shrink, our critical thinking skills dwindle, our dreams become smaller.

I started this blog almost four years ago with the idea that life is a conversation. Navigating life is a difficult enterprise, and we would all be a little better at it if we were to listen to one another. For a while after I started writing, a lot of my good friends also started blogs, and it was great to glean from the wisdom and passions of each of them. Now most of those blogs lay dormant, which is what happens when people grow up and get married and start real jobs, I guess.

I wonder sometimes if my blog has run its course and I should stop writing. It does take up a good chunk of time, and I normally don't have enough of that as it is. (I mean, all these YouTube videos aren't going to watch themselves!) I have trouble coming up with new ideas, and I don't think any more people read this than did two years ago.

But I've kept on writing, and I plan to continue. Writing this blog helps me more than it helps anyone else, I imagine. I need the opportunity to formulate my thoughts, and I still hope that somehow, the ideas I tap out encourage or challenge others. I'm not willing to let the conversation drop, because I need it more than anyone.

If life is a conversation, and if writing is a means of contributing to that conversation, then it would make sense for a post not to end with a clear conclusion of pragmatic principles. That's not how we converse in real life. When I have a conversation with someone, I don't end each statement with ways that what I've said can be applied in everyday life. I just say what I want and leave it out there, waiting for the other person to respond by adding to it, countering it, agreeing with it, or changing topic. Conversations are open-ended. So I think it's okay for a piece of writing to be open-ended. It doesn't have to conclude with a challenge to go do something; it can simply stop when I'm doing saying what I want to say.

In writing and reading, we engage in collective dreaming. When a person writes, they don't have to just present principles for application, as if they are saying, "Here's how you can learn from me. Here's what I'm an expert in, so let me share it with you." Instead, the writer can cast a vision of what life could be and invite the reader to join in that vision. When we write, we have the power of projecting a possible world, even if we haven't really achieved the vision we describe.

That's why I can write about things I'm not good at. I might not excel in these areas, but I would like to grow in them, so I put this dream ahead of me so that I have something to move toward. When I do this, I'm not saying, "Hey, listen to all my great advice so that you can be more like me." You don't want to be more like me. I'm a pretty messed up guy. But what I am saying is, "Hey, this is how I want my life to be, and it's what I want to move toward, and I'd love it if you joined me in this."

So join in the conversation. I'm not going to get through life real well on my own.

Here's ten ways that you can do this..........

Just kidding.

Mauric Sendak, the author of the children's book Where the Wild Things Are, died today. I watched the movie adaptation of this book a while back and really liked it, even then it was really weird. If you want to see some of my thoughts on it, you can check them out here.

Confessions of a Flat Character

For a story to have a meaningful plot, there needs to be round characters.

My least favorite book that I had to read for English class in high school was Shakespeare's The Tempest (I disliked it even more than Kate Chopin's The Awakening. And that's saying something). I felt like the story had no real plot. Maybe this was because it was buried too deeply in Shakespearean language, or maybe it was because my 15-year-old mind wasn't developed enough to grasp it. Here's how I understood the storyline of The Tempest: people get shipwrecked on an island, they walk around for a while, and then they leave the island. No real conflict, and no real character development. It was lacking what I saw as round characters.

Round characters are essential to a good story. According to Brittanica's website, round characters are complex and undergo development, sometimes to sufficiently surprise the reader." This is in contrast to flat characters, who are "two-dimensional in that they are relatively uncomplicated and do not change throughout the course of a work." A round character is different by the end of the story than they were at the beginning, whereas a flat character is more or less the same.

I wonder what kind of character I would be. I look around at people around me, and I see a lot of round characters. I see people who are moving forward in their lives' stories--trying new things, building new relationships, going new places. And it's not just that others circumstances change; they change as well. It's like they, I don't know, grow up and become adults.

Then I look at myself, and it's hard to see much change. Granted, a lot of circumstances have changed for me in the last year. I'm living in a new city and going to a new school. But my own character is more or less the same. I've ordered double-decker tacos every time I've gone to Taco Bell every since they were added to the menu. I've been combing (or more accurately, not combing) my hair the same way since I was ten. I still wear a t-shirt and jeans every day. My humor is the same, my likes/dislikes are the same, the way I talk is the same.

That's not a good way to live a life, because it doesn't make a good story. At the end of my life, I don't want people to say about me, "He showed up, walked around for a while, and then died." I want my life in 20 years to be completely different than it is now because I had progressed over that time. (I still hope I'm eating double-decker tacos, though. Those things are delicious).

I'm not totally sure how a flat character becomes a round one. I imagine it involves such things as change, risk, and conflict. A good story requires these elements, because it's through them that a character develops.

In the end, then, I guess it comes down to a decision. A character can choose to remain sedentary, or he can choose to engage life in all of its fullness, with its accompanying conflict and danger. It makes for a scarier life, but a better one, I think. We weren't all meant to remain the same.

Still not throwing away my jean shorts, though.

Alexithymia

.................And we're back!

It's been a pretty long time since I've written any new blog posts. There has been a reason for this. The past several weeks have been some of the busiest of my entire academic career, and since none of my friends have been willing to quit their jobs, move to Cincinnati, and become my personal research assistant, I've had to do all the work myself. Those jerks. I'm actually still not done with all of the papers that I've been working on, and even tonight, I plan to stay up late, eating pizza rolls, drinking Cherry Coke, and writing on the book of Revelation. Ain't no thang.

However, I do feel it's necessary for me to write something new on here. If I don't write on my blog somewhat frequently, I'm afraid people will begin to think I've died. And if you're an attractive woman, I can't have you thinking I'm dead, because then you'll stop trying to marry me.

I'm not really that good at expressing myself. I've come to this realization over the last few weeks, and it's a very unfortunate problem to have. After all, communication is my business. Every Sunday morning I stand in front of a group of people and preach a message. I write numerous papers each semester. And, of course, I occassionally try to convey a few coherent thoughts right here. Words are my tools, and if I'm not able to wield them effectively in presenting ideas, then I have little else to offer.

And yet, I struggle with this. In certain areas, at least. I think I'm pretty good with concepts and ideas. Those are easy. I can draw up well-structured essays on biblical research, and I can elucidate on something I've read. Where I have problems, though, is in putting words to emotions. I think a lot of people might have the same problem. Many of us don't do well at expressing the way that we feel.

In fact, I'm not sure that it's actually possible to completely describe inner feelings through words. I can't always  understand the way I'm feeling in my own mind, so it's even more difficult to relay this to others. Language falls short. All of us have dreams, fears, yearnings, and aches within us that we have trouble putting into words. It feels that no matter what we say, others won't really understand what we're experiencing.

People who do a good job of this are extraordinarily rare. I think we call them poets. Because when we attempt to describe the garbled mess of emotions that stir within us, language meets its breaking point, and the best way to nod toward what we mean is to use metaphor and imagery.

I'm not a poet. I write and think in paragraph form: topic sentence, a few pieces of evidence or illustration, and then a fitting conclusion. The problem is that the workings of the heart don't fit into such a tidy framework. They flow like a flooding river rather than staying within the predetermined bounds of a swimming pool.

There is a condition called "alexithymia," which is a deficiency in being able to understand or express emotions. A person who consistently experiences alexithymia might have interpersonal problems because their relationships seem superficial. They feel unable to get beyond the surface because they are unable to relate to others on a deeper level. I can relate to that, and maybe you can too. In fact, I think that even people with a number of wonderful relationships can have moments of alexithymia, because even in our most intimate relationships, there is a point at which another person just can't fully understand what I'm feeling, no matter how I try to explain it.

It's so comforting, then, to know that there is one person who really does understand how I feel, even when I don't understand it myself. A couple weeks ago one of my favorite songs came across my iTunes. It's somewhat dated now, but it's still near to top of my list of favorites: "I Am Understood?" by Relient K. Here's what the chorus says:

And you looked into my life and never stopped
And you're thinking all my thoughts
Are so simple, but so beautiful
And you recite my words right back to me
Before I even speak
You let me know, I am understood


These words remind me of Psalm 139, which is one of my favorite passages of Scripture: "O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it."

I need to be reminded of those words over and over again. Because alexithymia is so frustrating. It's maddening to have something happening within you but to be unable to put the words to paper in order to make sense of it all. I don't always understand how I feel, but God does know, because he made me, and he sees my thoughts and my spirit clearly. We truly are understood.

There's Always Something

A few weeks ago, I decided to log off of Facebook for a while. This was for several reasons. Earlier this year I wrote a blog post about how social technology has a negative affect on our relationships, so I figured it would be good for me to back up my writing with my actions by taking a break. Not only that, but I also realized that I needed to be more productive with my time and that Facebook had become a major time-waster. So I've been abstaining for a time in order to boost my productivity.

What I have realized during this time, however, is that there is always something else to fill time with (besides meaningful work). The world has no shortage of distractions. In the last three weeks, I have spent much less time on Facebook, but at the same time, I have been on ESPN, Twitter, Hulu, and YouTube more than ever before.

I had thought that the ability to get work done depended on restricting external distractions. What I am learning, however, is that productivity is less a matter of these things and more a matter of internal discipline. A person who is truly productive is someone who truly wants to be so and who takes the necessary steps to do his work. This means making sacrifices in entertainment, sleep, reading dumpy blogs, and staring mindlessly into space.

I'm not totally sure how to develop this discipline. I used to be a disciplined person. It wasn't even that long ago. When I was in college, I was always in the library doing something. Yes, part of the reason was to hit on the girls who were also there, but it was also because I wanted to stay on top of my responsibilities. And I don't know what it is--living in a new place, having my own apartment, having a college degree, an overdose of frozen pizzas--but I am lazy as butt nowadays.

This needs to change soon, too. This April will not be a pleasant one for me, as I have several major papers and projects due for school, on top of all the general responsibilities of life and work. The decision I need to make is whether I should get started on some of this work, of if I should instead use the time to build a time machine and go back to Ozark David so that I can ask him how he did it.

What tends to be the biggest obstacle to your own productivity? How do you get past it?