The Education of Doctors

As has been previously stated, I have an incurable neuromuscular disease. At the present moment, I’m sitting in the cafeteria at Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital waiting to have my first appointment with the newest neorologist to tackle my case. Though I have the highest respect for doctors in general, it reminds me of the many times that I have come face-to-face with a doctor, while they look at me like a deer in headlights when I’ve told them I have Myasthenia Gravis. Some have even replied, “Oh yeah, I remember reading something about that in medical school…forty years ago.” You gotta love honesty!

In all fairness, I don’t expect every doctor to know absolutely everything about every medical condition, but it does make me laugh at the implied perfection many place on those in the medical profession. So many people equate the education that doctors endure to being a messiah when it comes to medicine. To a certain extent I’ve experienced the same thing when it comes to my own education. At many different times, individuals have come up to me at church and asked me my opinion on some obscure passage of Scripture, expressing the fact that they’ve been struggling with it for so long and only need the input of an expert to decide what they truly believe…no pressure.

At the same time it reminds me of individuals like Vivien Thomas who had virtually no education in the medical field and yet was able to solve the problem of the blue baby while working as a janitor/lab assistant at Johns Hopkins (See the movie “Something the Lord Made” starring Mos Def).

Education is not always something that is received through a person-to-person transfer, but can sometimes occur through sheer passion for a given subject or through Divine grace and necessity.

Here’s hoping that my newest doctor has a measure of both Diving intervention as well as a good education!

Arrogance and Ego

I remember being such an egotistical little kid when I was in junior high and high school. Though I may not have said controversial or confrontational things to anyone’s face, I was the first to offer a snide comment once backs were turned. Teachers were individuals to be mocked and persecuted not admired and idolized. After all, wasn’t the saying “Those that can’t, teach”?

Regardless of how many years of education my instructors endured, any positive influence they may have had was mere chance and really had no place in reality. Two teachers in particular seemed to have cornered the market on luck, transforming my formative years through quiet guidance or even the simple suggestion of a book not listed on the required reading list (up until this point, reading was something that was done for a letter grade and had no place in my life.)

I offered respect to these individuals because of the respect they extended me, but should they ever disagree with me, they were dubbed simpletons unable to maintain a realistic grasp of reality.

These things are said only to focus attention on the fact that it feels like some are still living as petulant children bent on constantly breaking others down at every bend and corner for no apparent reason. I recognize that my lashings were handed out as a result of my own ignorance and pride. What’s most disturbing is that those that hail from recent generations, including my own, seem to have retained this attitude. The insults remain strangely similar while the reasoning has changed as the intolerance has grown.

When challenged these individuals seem to have developed into masters of the blame-shifting game. I’ll attempt to list some of the reasons that have most recently come to my attention, along with my own commentary (of course).

• “I’m just joking! I’m just being sarcastic! You’re being too sensitive.”

It’s interesting to note that these are the same individuals who get incensed when the finger is pointed in their direction or they become the brunt of a joke. It’s difficult to gauge someone’s tolerance level when it changes frequently. If a true debate is desired, sarcasm has little place and only results in bringing emotion to the topic. Though emotional reasoning may factor into the side one takes in a debate, it must be recognized that they hold a very personal value only calculated by the one holding them. Emotion is hardly ever helpful when it’s focused toward an opposing view. I love a good joke and more than occasionally give/get a good ribbing from those I care about. When this is accomplished at the expense of another, as it relates to a belief set, it is meaningless and destructive.

• “But it’s true! It’s not my fault you’re/they’re wrong.”

This is hardly helpful when trying to cultivate a meaningful successful relationship. Granted, if a relationship isn’t desired, negativity often has a positive affect on the person flinging barbs, as a feeling of superiority ensues. For my part, these are individuals that I don’t care to associate with, as logic doesn’t usually enter into the relationship, and unpredictability reigns supreme.

Oftentimes how information is presented is equally as important as the content of what is presented. This is one of the main reasons why Christians often fail. They miss the forest for the trees. Attacking anything from a religious standpoint is not helpful to anyone, and was something that Jesus often wrangled against.

This position can also lead to blanket suppositions about a population or group of people that is both inaccurate and destructive. Saying, “all fat people are worthless slobs”, is not helpful. Though admittedly there are many who are simply lazy and don’t put in the work necessary to maintain a healthy weight, there are also those that have medical conditions preventing the necessary activity. Incidentally this is usually the same group that says things like, “Women and Asians are terrible drivers”, and “Racism is a fallacy”.

• “I’m not the one that’s attacking, I’m being attacked!”

When someone disagrees with you, there are three possible responses. One:  Offer reasons for your position. Two:  Humbly admit that you don’t have all the answers and you may be wrong in this particular instance. Three:  Shoot the person disagreeing with you. This particular person falls in the last category of responses. They simply don’t like anyone disagreeing with them, and although they really have no reason, they don’t want to admit the possibility that they might be wrong, so they resort to name-calling and emotional responses.

• “I said something offensive?”

This is possibly the most unfortunate response. This person has become so bitter with their life that negativity seems to have become part of their very nature. Any relationship that they encounter eventually leads to disagreement and a parting of ways. They very rarely take responsibility for the destructive path that they leave and any failings can be chalked up to the usual sources:  my dad didn’t love me, I was abused as a child, I’ve been prejudiced against all my life, etc. This is not to say that circumstances don’t contribute to the developmental process, only that we as individuals are in control of our actions. History is replete with people overcoming their circumstances to accomplish amazing things (see Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Oprah Winfrey, etc). It’s ultimately a copout we’ve come to expect and accept.

Debate is not only healthy, but also helpful in developing both an accurate and deep understanding of ones beliefs. Humility while entering a debate is equally necessary.

The person that had the most impact on the forming of my sociological belief, when it comes to God, did not teach Bible. She was a 90lb. Indian woman who teaches writing and literature classes. Though her appearance is diminutive to say the least, her presence and voice carry the weight of the ages. With a powerful voice she would boom out, “It is vanity to say that there is nothing that I can learn about my God from someone who doesn’t believe in Him.”

It is this humility that I strive after in all my interactions with people, though I often fail. I could come up with a myriad of excuses as to why I also fail in this regard, but it would ultimately come down to an elevation of pride and arrogance in my own life. It is for this reason that relationships struggle and eventually fail:  a lack of humility.

Did i just call that grandmother strange?

I’ve always been pretty good at sticking my foot in my mouth.  When I had the privilege to work beside a grandmother in Mexico, leveling dirt and digging ditches, I experienced the pinnacle of foot eating.  I was a first or second year spanish student in high school, and I was so eager to use my newfound vocabulary I jumped in with both feet, not really worrying about accuracy.  As we toiled away together in the hot sun, I looked over at her tanned leathery skin and said, “¡Tu es muy estraño!”  She uncoiled herself from her bent posture and looked at me as if I was a little green man.  I wasn’t sure if she heard me the first time so I repeated myself with my hands on my bicep trying to show her how impressed I was with her strength.  She again gazed back at me like I was Looney Toons.

Her reaction so confused me that I asked one of my friends who was a senior and had been taking spanish for four years what “estraño” meant in english.  Strange.  I had just called an amazing woman who had spent the entire week sweating in the hot sun right alongside our entire crew, strange.  I was mortified.  It’s a good thing this all happened on our last day in Mexico because I’m not sure I could have faced the humiliation of going back to the house.  As it was, I avoided both her and her family for the rest of the day.

What’s amazing to me is the clarity with which I remember this event.  Not just my faux pas in calling her strange, but other gaffs on this particular trip.  This was the same trip that I nearly had a breakdown over some lumber (see in “Pride, Glory and Faith”.  I also ended up hitting my knee with a pick-ax, and installing a window in this new house that looked like it was right out of a Fun House.  The left side of the window was a good 2-3″ lower than the right side.

With all the negatives that I remember from trips like this, I often forget the positives that also occurred.  We built a house in less than a week!  The family we built it for could have probably cared less if we put the window on the roof.  They were going from a shack held up by chicken wire and pallets to a real house with a bathroom that was actually outside of where they were laying their heads.

Our egos often get the best of us even when we’re trying to be altruistic.  We think that everything revolves around us and what we’re trying to accomplish and never stop to think for a second that God could be doing something even greater with our frailty.  Another reason why I’m always amazed that when God decides to do some maintenance in His backyard, he goes to the shed and finds the me:  the rusty shovel with a busted handle.  Why He would choose me to accomplish His ends, I’ll never know.  Yet, he continues to find me in the back, behind the John Deere tractor and other more worthy tools.  I’m there just waiting to bring my screwiness to the world He created.  Is screwiness even a word or did I just make that up?

Reconciliation and Sacrifice

It’s so easy for me to give thanks when there’s plenty of money, surplus after the bills are paid.  But how much hard when things are tight?

When Cain and Abel were asked to give first fruits, Abel did so without thought of what the consequences might mean for his family.  He gave joyfully of his first fruits.  Cain was bitter and angry because God did not bless his sacrifice.  His first concern was for himself and his family.  It’s not that Cain didn’t sacrifice, he did.  It’s not that being concerned for yourself and providing for your family is a bad thing.  In fact, the Bible ranks the males provision for his family very high.

The mistake that Cain made was prioritizing anything above God.  This is what condemned Cain before his sacrifice was even presented.

Sacrifice is required of us in order to reconcile ourselves to God.  The heart in which that sacrifice is given is equally important, if not more so, as the sacrifice itself.

Humble Pie

It continually amazes me how much people will tip-toe around the most important topics, but are willing to allow themselves to become so emotionally charged over the silliest of things.  We become so concerned with peoples perceptions.  We’re not willing to genuinely confess our faults to each other, and yet we chomp at the bit to crucify others for doing/saying things that we ourselves don’t even think twice about doing when people aren’t watching us.

Over the last couple of years, I’ve come to the realization that the source of man’s greatest fault comes down to pride.  Eve chose the fruit because she wanted to be like God.  Christ Himself said that He did not consider equality with God something that it attainable.  Yet we consider ourselves in control of so many things it’s pathetic.  We aren’t willing to take responsibility for our actions.  We choose to violate the only request put on us and then wonder why/how God can get frustrated with us.  I wonder…how do we develop humility when we’re not willing to share our faults with other brothers and sisters?  It’s hard to become sharp when there’s no one there to help sharpen you.

What does modern day community look like?  We are all very compartmentalized, self-sufficient and ultimately selfish in our actions and treatment of each other.  I know it’s unrealistic to think that the Church could model itself after what Acts 2 says, but how far have we removed ourselves from the Church as a community?  Mostly, we are a community of convenience and affirmation, based on our own selfish emotional needs.  Instead of reflecting the love that Christ has shown us, we take it, and then try to drain what other people have been given as well.

May God serve us up a big portion of humble pie so that we can depend on each other as He intended.  Christ is the head, but each of us also has a part to play.  The arm still has a hard time doing its job without the shoulder or the hand.  Let us begin to interact, build-up and affirm each other as He intended.

Hell on Earth

A professor once told me that the Bible says, “Heaven is here and not here, now and not yet”.  At the time I shook my head like a donkey bobble head pretending to understand what the heck he was talking about.  This was the same professor that said I should question whether I’m really a Christian if I don’t think that affirmative action works anymore…needless to say, I kinda thought he was a little screwy.

He was approaching the idea of Heaven on earth from an activist standpoint.  We should be good stewards of what God gave us.  That meant being good environmentalists who hug trees, don’t bother with hybrids because we have our Schwinn’s to get from place to place, and don’t even bother with the question of “paper or plastic” because we’ve got our own hemp bags we carry everywhere just in case.  I may be taking things slightly to the extreme, but he was certainly not the norm when it came to what most think of as the “typical Christian”.

I wouldn’t call myself a “conservative” simply because I don’t believe the word has much meaning anymore.  I believe that the government has their hands in far too much, but saying that these days seems to align me with both and neither side of the spectrum at the same time.  How that’s possible, I’m not exactly sure.  Go figure.

Just recently however I was thinking about this idea of Heaven on Earth.  I absolutely think that we should be good stewards of what God has called us to watch over.  But I was wondering if the power switch goes both ways.  If the kingdom of Heaven is here and not here, now and not yet, is it not also possible that Hell could also be here in some form?  Maybe it’s not in the Bible exactly, but I think the idea has merit.

Man’s depravity knows no bounds.  I heard a story a few years back of a high school student that was shot while trying to find a seat on the school bus.  It seems that he was wearing a style sneaker that was desirable.  When the student slumped into a seat, coming to the end of his life, the teenager that occupied the seat simply replied, “Get the hell off me, you’re getting blood on my iPod!”

I would never want to make light of the death of someone, but a few years ago the world went through a long period of mourning over the death of Princess Diana, the Princess of Wales.  Songs were written about her, made for TV movies were broadcast and the wailing could be heard around the world.  We were constantly reminded of all the humanitarian work she accomplished in her lifetime.  Again, I in no way want to make light of her death.  At the same time, few realize that Mother Theresa died only a few days later, with little publicity or fanfare.  While the news broadcast vigils non-stop for weeks about Princess Di, Mother Theresa garnered a blip at the end of the news hour.  Though I’m sure this is the way Mother Theresa would have wanted it, the truth of it is a light into the values that people have.

We have equal power, no matter what our religious, political or social beliefs are, to have a hand in the creation of Heaven or our self-destruction in Hell on Earth.  Please don’t misunderstand.  I am not saying that all roads are equal and we’ll all end up with a thousand virgins ruling over the planet Mars.  I am simply saying that most of the turmoil that each of us experiences on a daily basis can be eased if we simply make  a concerted effort to transform the environment around us in a positive way.  Whether it’s through giving a bigger tip when you sit at my friend Rick’s table at Olive Garden, or simply express your gratitude to two amazing women like Shawna and Cari who deal with debilitating fybromyalgia on a daily basis and still suck it up to volunteer a ton of time with Little League.  How much would you consider tipping my friend Emma who runs a beauty shop out of her home, this being her sole source of income?

My point is if we can simply take off our blinders for a moment and see beyond the end of our own nose, we could see some of the amazing things that people do (and even the not so amazing things we take for granted-but are done with joy), and take some initiative of our own.  Humility is one of the world’s most powerful things.  It transformed nations through incredible men like Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Gandhi.  What if we all adopted the same values?  This world is going to Hell in a handbasket and it’s not until we start to take the initiative to bring about change, that it’s actually going to happen.  What would we rather have on Earth…Heaven or Hell?

Is Perception Reality?

I love coaching baseball.  I’ve coached Little League for the last seven years or so and I think I’m pretty good at it.  I’ve never taken a team past the opening round of the playoffs and have only won one tournament in those years, but that’s not really how I measure success.  Between myself and those that I’ve coached with, the end of our season is met with a joy and yearning for the next season.  We enjoy a rate of return players that is not really seen in a lot of smaller leagues.  Though we play in the heart of North East Portland, we are a very small league and usually only have two to four teams at each level.  We don’t usually have the pick of the litter when it comes to talent, but what we lack in talent, we more than make up for in love of the game.

I’m not sure what I would do if baseball was taken away from me.  With that being said, the effort that I need to put forth is substantially more than most coaches.  I recently posted my thoughts on the juxtaposition that exists in my family because of my disability.  It brought back a lot of memories of when I was diagnosed.

I was diagnosed with Myasthenia Gravis when I was junior in high school.  Saying this makes it sounds as if it was a simple blood test.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Confirmation took almost six months.  Since I grew up in a small town, the entire county had only one high school and three elementary schools, the closest hospital equipped for the types of tests that I needed were over two hours away.  This meant that I missed a majority of the end of my sophomore year in high school.  I tried to look at the bright side of things which meant that it was a convenient way of getting a passing grade in a spanish class that I was struggling in.

The symptoms associated with MG are similar to Lupus.  Extreme fatigue and muscle weakness are the most common.  Difficulty breathing one of the more severe.  It’s a neuromuscular disease.  Without going in to any more of the medical side of things, one of the most difficult things about the disease is that for the most part, there are no outward signs.  There is a specific blood test that can be done to gauge the severity of the disease, but in a percentage of cases, even this bares no fruit.  I happen to fall into this category.  Which means that although I was diagnosed with it through a battery of other tests, my blood work never shows any sign of the disease.

My muscle strength gradually declined over the first couple years, and at times it was difficult to walk from one end of the parking lot to the other in order to get to my first period class.  The doctor decided that he wanted me to use a handicapped placard so that I didn’t have to walk so far to get to my classes.  My pride took a big hit, but I relented and started using the bright blue sign.  I especially struggled because my mom had been disabled for years, having had both hips replaced, one knee replaced, and more than seven knee surgeries to help stave off the degenerative arthritis that continues to ravage her bones.  I was no stranger to the plight of the disabled.

I can remember driving to the grocery store where my dad worked and parking in the handicapped spot close to the door.  As I stepped out of my car and started to head in, one of my dad’s co-workers looked at me, looked at my car and where it was parked, and sneered in disgust as she said:  ”Boy, you guys really take advantage don’t you?”  I was mortified.

All this brings me back to baseball.

**I know I’m leaving the story of how I got here short, but if you’d like to read about that, you’ll have to watch for my upcoming post called “The Road to Good Health”**

Baseball is the one activity that seems to re-energize my spirit.  In order to coach for a period of 2-3 hours I need to rest for close to five times that amount.  The trade-off is worth it.  There may not be a great paycheck associated with it, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Seeing kids love the game of baseball and get excited about playing is awesome.  Teaching them how to not only become better ball players but better people, is priceless.

I’ve come to terms with the limitations that I have in life.  I no longer care as much about what people think or how they act around me when I’m having a hard time.  Those that are true friends will love me and carry me through those times.  I’ve been blessed with incredible coaches over the years and know for a fact that I could not have done it without them.  They make my dream of coaching a reality.  Most people do not perceive any limitation in me because I have world class coaches.  I am so excited for the upcoming season (I know it doesn’t start until after the first of the year!!), I can taste it!

Thank you Jim, Gary, Brian and Sonja.  You make perceived reality true in my universe.

Love-Hate Living

I find myself in a very unique situation these days.  I am a stay-at-home dad.  As images of Michael Keaton wander through your head, understand that both of my sons are in jr. high.  The chili-stink diaper just doesn’t apply in my case, though they both have offered up some pretty raunchy levels of flatulence.  One being a 20-second zinger expressed from a back bedroom that could be heard in our living room (about 30 feet away through a closed door).  Incidentally, this all occurred while we had a small group gathered at our house.  My point is that they are old enough that they pretty much take care of themselves.  In addition, they also help substantially more around the house than I ever did when I was their age.  Granted, they’re also spoiled more, but that’s beside the point.

The uniqueness of my situation doesn’t really come from the fact that I’m a stay-at-home dad, but why I am.  I wasn’t one of those that have been “downsized” as a result of the economy.  I was not hurt on the job and forced to learn a new skill.  I’m not lazy (though my wife may disagree at times), and simply refuse to look for work.  I would actually love to be employed somewhere…even if only for a few hours a day, and for minimum wage.  I absolutely deplore not being able to work.

My health forced my exit from the workforce.  I am a 34-year old permanently disabled man collecting social security disability.  I have to be completely honest when I say that I never thought that I would collect social security.  I always thought that it would be bankrupt before I had an opportunity to file.  Now I find myself the freeloader I despise.

Needless to say my understanding of what a man is supposed to do and be has changed substantially.  I initially thought that I altered my definitions simply to prevent myself from feeling like a worthless clod, but I have since come to a fresh understanding of the male/female dynamic.  This is mostly thanks to a godly man who has continuously pushed my face so deep into my self pity it comes out the other side.  Sometimes we need those forceful reinforcements in order to make it through the day.

This evening, I was again confronted with the juxtaposition of our household.  Each Sunday evening we have a group of high schoolers gather in our home to discuss relevant topics, crack open our Bibles and ultimately just share life together.  As often does with a group of teenagers, we ended up running down a rabbit trail of why male involvement in churches has decreased dramatically over the last seventy to eighty years.  We talked about how the traditional roles that are filled by males have been challenged and even taken over by the females of our generation.  Quite often the reason for this is the total abandonment by males called to be in leadership positions, such as a Lead Pastor in a church.  If a man isn’t willing to step up in the role they were created to fill, head of the family and the church, someone must.

Frankly, the men in our society have become weak.  They are a shell of the image that God created them to be.

Those that do stand for what they believe are decried as misogynistic, baby killers and at the very minimum prejudice.

In order to excel as a singer, there must be a certain amount of talent that a person is born with.  People can definitely get better with practice and training, but if someone is tone deaf, there is little chance that they will ever become an opera singer no matter how much they work at it.  This is something that no one would deny, and yet we decry the same thing as sexist when it comes to the roles of males and females.

I have never been more proud of my wife than to hear her tell the group of high school students gathered that, though she is the main bread winner in our household, I am still the leader of our family and lay out the direction we take.  There is a mutual submission that takes place, but there is a healthy recognition of roles and purpose within that submission.  Neither one of us holds the others roles for ransom in order to seek our own way.  In other words, my wife doesn’t hold it over me that I am not in the workforce, as I don’t hold it over her that laundry would not get done without my efforts at home.  We are a team that compliment each other according to how God has gifted us.

God has created us as one body made up of many different pieces.  Each piece fulfills a purpose.  Without each one of us doing our job, the body will suffer.  When we stop hungering after the flashy gifts that are recognized and seen, harmony will abound and the church will grow exponentially as it did in the first century.

Until we become satisfied, and in fact thankful, for the different roles that God has placed us in, our collective job can never be complete.  If the person who talks about the manufacturing of widgets feels purpose in his job, while the person who actually makes the widgets doesn’t, what good is the speaker?  He ultimately has nothing to talk about!

Pride, Glory and Faith

“I will not apologize for doing what I do” – Pride and Glory

I would like to say that I’m a world traveler.  This however could not be further from the truth.  Though I did visit a few countries in Europe while attending college, a week spent anywhere simply does not convey the depth and breadth of anything but a puddle.  In addition, I also wouldn’t consider short visits to Canada or Mexico to make the grade as I’ve always lived on the west coast and trips to either country felt more like going next door than visiting a foreign country.

It is on one of these trips however that I learned the meaning of humility…or maybe humiliation.  Our church youth group joined the ranks of many teenagers over the Easter holiday on a missions trip to Mexico.  On this particular “vacation” we were combining our strengths with a well known organization to help build a home for a family in need, as well as reach out to some of the neighborhood kids to give them a reprieve from the squalor they experienced on a daily basis.

When we arrived at the build site, we discovered that not all of our materials had been delivered.  Though we were anxious to begin, we found ourselves in limbo as to where our efforts should be focused.  When our site director arrived (two hours late), he informed us that this was expected and we should take the initiative to get the materials on our own.  By this time there was a small group of children gathered around to see why these “gringo’s” were invading their home space, as well as why we were stirring up such a dust cloud with our comings and goings in trucks and vans.  It was decided that while a small group went with the delivery truck to procure supplies, there would be a small group left behind to play with the children that had gathered and begin work on the latrine hole (a 6′ x 6′ x 6′ hole in the ground meant as the waste disposal center for those living in the house…believe me I’m making it sound much nicer than it really was).  So a group of us loaded on to the back of a flat bed truck and ventured out to find the building supplies we needed to complete our week long construction project.

To say that the return trip from the lumber yard was a difficult one, would be an extreme understatement.  The truck that we were all piled in, or perhaps “on” is a better description, had little difficulty navigating the route to the lumber yard.  However once the flatbed was loaded down with enough lumber to build a small two room house (smaller than most sheds in the United States), the weight was simply too much and the truck ended up bottoming out a few times.  With some of the longer pieces of wood hanging off the back of the truck, we quickly discovered that each time the truck bottomed out, lumber would inevitably scrape the dirt road.  Though we stopped at one point to see if we could rearrange the wood, no manner of reorganization seemed to help.

My thoughts at that point were solely focused on the finances just spent to procure this families very walls.  As we crested the next hill and began our descent, the truck began to drag our newly purchased lumber across the harsh Mexican dirt road.  I cried out to everyone that we were in danger of losing our load and that we should stop immediately to see if we could straighten things out.  My warnings were answered in two different ways.  The first was that the driver and adult passenger in the cab simply said that there was nothing that could be done about the way the lumber was sitting.  Secondly, my friends riding on the back of the truck started to sing a spanish worship song that we had recently learned.

I was amazed!  Did they not see what was happening?  Was no one considering the end result of allowing this wood to be dragged across the ground?  Surely it would be unusable by the time we reached our destination!  The adults had given up while my friends simply sang their song and laughed as they challenged each other to a “who can sing faster, louder and more obnoxious contest”.

By the time we arrived back at base camp I was nearly hysterical at the fact that no one seemed to be listening to me.  It was as though I was invisible.  The driver tried to back the lumber in to the small space alloted for the families house and the wood immediately caught on the ground and started pulling away from the truck.  I finally started yelling as loud as I could that they needed to stop.  I was so insane with the fact that they needed to start listening to me that I actually started to cry a little.  When he finally came to a stop, I jumped off and continued my hysterical rant until my dad came up to me and wrapped me in his arms saying that everything was going to be okay.  As everyone else jumped off the back of the truck, I could feel their eyes burning into me as they wondered at why I was acting like such a crazy person.

I have often thought back on this time and tried to consider why I had such a visceral reaction to my friends non-responsiveness.  From the moment that we breach our mothers womb and feel the cold air of individuality, we all have a desire to be at the very minimum noticed.  Simply stated, we would all like to feel as if we fit as a piece of the puzzle and part of the bigger plan.  That there is a purpose and we have some role to play.

What if we don’t have a role to play?  The puzzle that we imagine we’re a part of is nothing more than someone seeing the Virgin Mary burned into their piece of toast.  A fluke.  What if our feelings of purpose and belonging were just our own prideful attempts to be part of the collective?  There is no higher meaning, we’re all just a bunch of floating clumps of organic matter.  No call to a higher level of morality and baring no meaning.  What if we’re standing on top of the highest mountain screaming about the importance we can bring to the table, but there is no one there to listen?

It has just occurred to me that I remained frantic until my father enclosed me in his arms.  Even then, I struggled against his grasp with the feeling that people were still not listening to me.  Only after he held me close, not allowing me to struggle free, did I finally release control and allow myself to be comforted.  When I finally calmed down he held my face in his hands so that his eyes were the only thing I could focus on and he said, “Everything is okay.  Nothing is hurt.  Everything is okay.”

Having faith and releasing control over something, even your life, is one of the most difficult things for us to do.  Allowing someone else control over our innermost parts is risky.  It’s dangerous.  Not opening those spaces up to God can be maddening.  While my friends were giving glory to God for His provision in guiding us through a foreign city, I was focused on the well being of wood.

“Nothing is more deceitful … than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.” – Jane Austin in Pride and Prejudice

Living Out Loud

Let me start out by saying that I hate most “Christian” songs.  They’re trite and too simple in many ways.  They take what is a complete and total mystery and compact them into nice little choruses that make us go “aaahhhh”.  I learned this very early on in my search to know the unknowable.  After all, God spoke and the rest is commentary, right? (a little nod to Rob Bell)

With that being said, there is occasion when it seems someone hits on a deeper truth.  Perhaps it’s an accident, or perhaps God does still speak to us.  Either way, when I heard the phrase “Live Out Loud” sung over the radio for the first (being tuned to a Christian radio station being the punishment inflicted by my parents), I chalked it up to another over-zealous singer trying to make a buck in an industry rife with corruption and self-focus.

As I look back however it gives me pause.  This phrase is not talking about platitudes of a great sermon, or the “should have’s” that religious followers are so often associated with, but the social contract that we are all innately born with as human beings.  This thought was first put in our minds by God in the opening chapters of Genesis in the conversation that God has with Cain.  We are only fulfilled in community, as Adam found out…sorry the monkey just won’t cut it.  The interesting thing is that this all occurs before any religious rules or regulations are put into place.  Noah’s concern was for those that didn’t even necessarily believe in a Creator God.  The same could be said of Lot.  In both instances, the people around them hated them.  They were ridiculed to the extreme.  This sounds really familiar to how many Christians are treated these days.  But what was their reaction?  It caused them to try even harder to save those that were on the other side of the line.  They didn’t try to preach sermons on what the people were doing wrong.  They simply tried to save them.

The more time I spend on earth, learning about who God is, the more I realize I still have a lot to learn.  Education can often make things more difficult for us as we strive to reveal God’s love to others.  We can be viewed as “know-it-all’s” or at the very minimum prideful in the perceived notion that we have it all figured out.  For me the goal is to live in community not just with those who share the same set of beliefs, but also with those that share contradictory ones.  One brilliant professor I had said that it is folly for me to believe that there is nothing that I could learn about God from someone who doesn’t believe in Him.  Though I understand that we are all created in His image and bare his mark, this is something that I continue to struggle with, despite the fact that I know it to be true.  I hope that it will someday be said that I lived out loud and didn’t just offer up nice little truisms about what life is supposed to mean and how we’re supposed to act.