Independence, Dependency and a Solution

There is this ideal, a lofty goal perhaps, especially in American culture that it's best to go off after high school and make it out in the real world.  It's this unspoken expectation in life that at some point after you graduate you should go off and find yourself.  College degrees, the gold rush, the "unclaimed West," the big city... it's a familiar tale.


You might call this "The American Dream."  I'm reminded of Sinatra's song, New York, "if I can make it there, I can make it anywhere..." and New York is, of all places, a "land of opportunity."  It's a very familiar tale.  16 year old son goes off to the big city to work for a few years with promises to return to the family farm, and doesn't.  He makes it big, and stays.  This has gone from exception to rule, and now to expectation.

But in a way, I think the US in particular has now had a wakeup call.  With a slumped economy, college grads have discovered they have to bust their butts to make it; jobs don't just throw themselves at you anymore and a bachelors degree isn't a ticket to prosperity.  Call it an issue with an entitled generation X if you will; all duped by rich baby boomer parents that they're smart, good looking and that the world is their oyster.

I'm of a different mind.  I tried that make it thing, and didn't quite pull it off.  The first time.  Well, that is, I'm not sure I've really pulled it off the second time (or whichever time this is), either.  But you know, I think that's ok.


From what I know, parents really expected (when they were able) to help their kids out over a long period of time back in the day.  I get the picture that the 'send off' period used to be much longer than the now typical three months in the summer after you graduate high school.  I imagine it used to be closer to 10 years - if not more.  The real surprise is a culture that so greatly values independence at all.  There is something to it - I'll admit.  I remember thinking, the first time my make it plan blew up in my face, "Geez, God help me so I don't end up like George Costanza."

I hope that prayer at least has been answered!

But as I read through a chunk of the Pauline scriptures, I find a different idea being encouraged; a novel approach to life becoming more and more appealing.  America is slowly discovering it through pain - and most certainly sees it as more curse than blessing.  They may call it dependency, but with the right heart - I call it interdependence.

Interdependence that offers a helping hand to someone in need, especially friends and family.  We remember when we were helped.  Interdependence that allows children without much direction the offer of time and support until they find their wings.  We hoped for the same.  Interdependence that hopes for peace in the midst of conflict - for truly we are all in this together.

Anymore, I'm not proud to think of myself as independent.  Yes, generally Jo and I pay for our bills on our own.  Yes, now we can afford to make it on our own, and for the time being have salaries that help us feel like we have it all together.  But we don't.  We need help, not just monetarily but relationally, emotionally, and spiritually.  We've learned to embrace the help we receive with hopes that when the opportunity comes, we can do the same.

Thank God for this interdependent life.

"For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others."
- Romans 12:4-5

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ."
- Galatians 6:2 

Almost, well - Sometime in August

Friends, the rumors are true.  Joanna and I are expecting a baby!

We're only 12 weeks along at this point, but have been to several OB appointments already.  Nothing quite prepares you to gaze upon the grainy screen, powered by some unknown magic or science, and see what must be your baby - so far only the size of a little lime - sitting it's sack of warm and delicious amniotic fluids.  The heart itself looked like two jellyfish swimming quickly in opposite directions with tentacles tangled up together, pumping blood to our baby - who last time we checked appeared much like a gummy bear.

"Congratulations Sir, you're the Father of a healthy, 7lb bouncing baby gummy bear!"

Instead of posting my own photos of a pregnant sweetie, I'll let her do it, and point you in the right direction.  I'm sure she'll be able to give a more firsthand catalogue of the tale should you be interested.  In the weeks ahead, sometime in early April, we'll be halfway along and get the chance to see more - including the presence or absence of a peculiar appendage that will tell our doctors a certain something about what exactly we can expect to receive in the later parts of August.  We'll be sure to spread the info to friends and family so they may adequately purchase either pink or blue.  That will be an exciting day indeed.

In the meantime, I continue to work within my wife's cravings (read more here), head to the gym when she's inclined to dance the night away, and offer more than the usual number of back rubs, scalp massages, and hugs.  No complaints here.  :)

Risky Business

If you know me, you know I've pursued many things in my decade of 'thinking' years (16-26).  Sometimes I've gone a certain direction all out, twice - and then abandoned it yet again.  I'm convinced I did this because I was searching for direction and purpose on my own.  I followed the path of least resistance, and greatest enjoyment.  I discovered though, too often, these aren't the same thing.

God is in a risky business of leading people somewhere without showing them where he's going.  When I call this risky business, I mean to say it's risky for us, or at least it seems so at the time.  Certainly God knows where he's heading, but part of faith in him is following even when we don't where that destination is.

If you've tried this, you know the thrill, and the fear that it brings.  The tingle down your spine, the cold sweats, and the undeniable sense of rightness about it.  This is ironic, since if you're truly following, only the purpose of following is utterly certain.  But I believe that is precisely what God is after.

I believe he is delighted to keep the journey and destination a mystery.  We have our own plans, certainly.  We plan on going to college; it seemed wise at the time.  We plan on learning to play the piano, we enjoy it.  We plan on having children, since we like the idea of a busy home - even though we have never been a parent before.  Often we don't know how we'll reach that goal; this is the hidden truth of a new experience: planning only goes so far.  Still, through all our planning, God is continually moving, directing the steps that we take.

Proverbs 16:9 is the scripture for this, along with others (19:21, 16:1, Psalm 33:11) but confirmation comes in our experience.  Free-will thinker though I am, I can't deny the direction of my steps over the years, directing me toward goals I may have had in mind - but more often toward an end I see God had in mind all along.

This teaches us two things, first to depend on God for our direction.  This is enough, but it teaches us an even more valuable lesson: that God himself is the journey and the destination.  When our hearts are dependent on him, we find peace in the midst of situations that seem chaotic and foreign.  When we look to him for understanding and joy and faith, we find it.  Even though Christians can't always see the end of the road, joy is found in knowing God is at the wheel charting a course through our temporal existence that finds its ultimate, eternal destination with him.

The Art of Belief

It has been said that no man can argue with your experience.  I think that is why a testimony is the thing that people can argue with the least.  

If I tell you that I know a man who was legally blind one day (with coke bottle glasses), and then was tested to have 20/20 vision several days later without surgery, you would be astonished and perhaps skeptical but you could not argue that I believed in this fact.  You might also be more likely to trust me (and therefore my story) if I was a more reputable person, hence why people say part of "acting right" is to protect your "witness."

So generally, we believe someone and what they tell us if we find them trustworthy.  I don't really need to give you a thoroughly worked out logical proof; as long as I can make you trust me, you're more likely to believe me even without one.  Perhaps part of blogging is building a report with people so that you can have a better foundation to influence them, and the decisions they make.  I would be lying if I didn't admit this is part of my dastardly plot.  If I can prove myself to be a trustworthy person, you are more likely to believe and trust me, and therefore more likely to accept advice and direction.

Hopefully, the direction I continually point people is heaven-ward.  I mention all this so you'll have a better feel for me, and be more willing to see my point.  In other words - I hope I'm building trust.

Jesus did the same.  Certainly he was wise and full of knowledge, and had the old testament hidden in his heart.  But Jesus built trust with people by proving himself through what he did.  Here was a man who healed strangers, fed thousands, and lived quietly.  He was unassuming, and ultimately died an apparently worthless death, and yet he is the supposed Savior of the world.  CS Lewis came to a remarkable conclusion: Jesus was either crazy, a liar, or the Savior of the world.

If belief is a matter of trust - what about Jesus isn't worth trusting?

In Response to the Story

On Friday I was skimming through my journals from 2010.

There are three of them, as it was my first year of marriage!  That's not to say Jo and I didn't talk through everything, and grow closer as a couple as opposed to me growing closer to my journal.  I'm a believer that the writing and processing in private lowered my foot-in-mouth tendencies in person with Jo by at least 46.7%.

I actually had an independent Gallup poll confirm as much.

I wrote more in the last year than the previous three combined.  Content?  Like I mentioned, there was a good amount of processing or thinking out loud; I also spent time summarizing the books I read, and reacting to life in the moment.  That to say, I carried my journal with me (in a bag not a purse, thank you very much) and spent less time writing about the events of life, and more time describing my response to them.

I can't say that I read through my old journals very often.  Generally, I see it as working through life one entry at a time.  Still, something was different on Friday as I started in January of 2010 and breezed all the way through to now.  In a way I normally couldn't, I recalled each of the experiences (and sometimes even the writing) as if it was happening.  I don't have a great memory, so it was weird, a Matrix-like virtual reality or something.

As I read (and here is my point), a thankfulness began to grow in me.  I could see the dreams of January fulfilled in December; I could see the lessons learned and the growth.  I remembered like it was yesterday the quarrels, drama and victories.  As years go, it was a great one.  Still, through the lens of eternity, any year can exhibit the same perspective of growth and progress.

So if you don't already, consider it.  Don't get bogged down in the obligation of it, and don't fall into the habit of just recording the daily/weekly events.  If you're interested in remembering what happened, you'll do better to respond to life anyway; feelings are more easily remembered, I say.  Accept frustrations, and if you don't feel like it - DON'T - you're just wasting your time.

After a year, see where you land.  Hopefully it's a place where you can see God's faithfulness and mercy and direction running through life like a theme in a story.

His story.

Family Man

Ever seen "Family Man," starring Nicolas Cage?

It's a Christmas favorite of Joanna's and mine that we watched for the first time on our 7th (or was it 23rd?) date using a headphone splitter at Nordaggio's Coffee across from our college campus.  Although I can't fully endorse the film due to some graphic content, I have to admit there are "worse" movies I've seen and learned from as well.

Cage plays Jack Campbell, an outrageously wealthy businessmen who holds his employees late on Christmas Eve, meets an angel figure through a timely convenience-store intervention, and wakes up Christmas morning in an alternate reality.  This "glimpse"experience is the centerpiece of the film and shows him what life would have been like had he made a singular decision differently.

Over the course of several months, he discovers a life he's missed out on; a life surrounded by family.  He's given up the wealth, and lives on a much tighter budget (no Ferrari), but finds a new wealth of love that has surrounded him in the hearts of his wife and 2 kids.

But this isn't a film review.  It's a life lesson illustrated by a now obscure 125min movie.

It could be easy for Joanna and I to vilify Campbell's first life, thinking our current economic status is a sign of our value in the higher virtues.  But this isn't a lesson in disparaging the life-choices of the upper classes.  The true lesson from the film is in what Campbell learns is most valuable.  It's not an 'either-or' choice; it's a 'what comes first' choice.

So I'm a family man.  Turns out, so is God.

He made a choice too, and in understanding his choice, we understand what he valued most.  Us.  That much is simple.  To bring us into his family, God paid a great price, and the value of the payment tells us something about his value of the purchase.  The tricky part is understanding why he made the choice.

People are a mess.  Jack Campbell teaches us that.  But Jack learned a valuable lesson: people are messy, but worth the mess.  Companionship, friendship and love are worth stinky diapers, disagreements, and the occasional pain.  In the end, Jack gives something of value to him for something he has found to be even more valuable.  In this particular tale the price is control, autonomy and a measure of security.

What is the value of your hearts desire?  Do you really know what that desire is?  What price are you willing to pay?

The Beard: Style or Statement?

If you know me, you know I have coarse, curly, red hair.  I like to think it is a distant family trait brought over from the north of Scotland, my long lost home.  I keep it short because if I don't it comes to life - eating small children and setting up monarchies in place of peaceful republics.

As a result, my facial hair follows suit.  It's like the prince of the republic, turned to the dark side by this new despot.  As soon as it came in, it turned just as ugly but featured a different tactic for my keeping it short or shaved turned it even more squirrely - resulting in ingrown hairs, the ultimate anarchy of hairstyle.  Of course, my private Christian University paid no attention to this for years.  They forced the anarchy upon us for decades, and ironically I even became a minion of the regime - penalizing young men for letting their whiskers grow freely in peace.

Over the last decade or so a strange phenomenon has risen in popularity and become it's own style: "the 5 o'clock shadow/3 week un-trimmed growth."  I see this as a long time coming - due either to Hugh Jackman, or Brad Pitt; suddenly it's become cool and socially acceptable to sport the untrimmed style.

Still, I'm left wondering, is this a legitimate style - or more of a statement about the wearer?  In observing it, do we conclude "my, this young gentlemen has been staying up on his GQ magazine" or "that bum just rolled out of bed!"  In my humble opinion, there just is no way to be sure.

Certainly, the bearded purveyor may match his whiskers with smart style - say a suit and tie - but still we're left wondering "is this him, really, or is he just following suit?"  Similarly, we may find a clean shaven man who simply cannot sport the 'disheveled' appearance in confidence, either because of certain cultural ideas in him, or a simple physical inability to do so.

So, my friends, what can we conclude about our bearded populace?  In the end, nothing.  The beard has lost its power to insinuate much of anything anymore.  My college has since discovered this and abandoned their long held tradition of "enforced-shearing;" jobs can often be procured nowadays by the bearded and non alike.  So, let us abandon the schemes and impressions, and take our male friends and acquaintances as they are, bearded or not - just dudes, living their lives.