“That’s just the way I am.” – one of the saddest, laziest, and most faithless phrases that I ever hear

“Just be.” – spoken my many, followed by none

“I don’t belong anywhere.” – powerless when spoken as accusation or resignation, powerful when owned as a false perception or realization

I’ve written a couple of pieces already on being and on belonging.

As important as each of those are to me, I think that the idea of “becoming” is the one I spend most of my thought life on. Of the three, this idea contains and delivers the most hope (in me, and from me to others). It unlocks in a man the sleeping dreamer. It utilizes the most creativity, as well as the full arsenal of powers that God has given to mankind for his use. And even with that, it also depends on the power that God has reserved for Himself in order for a person to enter into it, let alone achieve it.

Becoming

One of the countless things that my teacher has said on this subject is that unless I change and become like a little child, I will not live in the ways of God.

I’ve spent some time dwelling on that. I respect my teacher a lot, and believe him to be brilliant, and often ponder his every word for meaning, value, and direction (I wonder if sometimes he laughs at me because I may “miss the forest for the trees”).

Now, I know the heart of my teacher, and so even though a glance at these words on paper can be interpreted as a warning and condemnation, I know him to be communicating a message of hope and desire and possibility. A message of life that he wants me to have.

With this teaching, he is telling me that I can change. He is also giving me the very good news that living in the ways of God is available to me. Not only that, but he is informing me that there are some qualities or characteristics, observable or inherent in a child, that he thinks necessary and good for me. On a side note, since I was a child once myself, this teaching proves to me that I am capable of change, since I now have lost these qualities and need them back.

I meet so many people who do not believe they can become something that they are now not. I meet another large set of people that believe they can become something else, but can not connect to the desire to do so, or a picture of what that should be, in a way that fuels them to enter it. Watching these folks makes me really tired.

Tired, because usually these folks want to talk the language of becoming, love the idea of becoming, want to be seen as people who are becoming, and even set aside time to be in community with others who are becoming, but never enter into the process of becoming themselves.

Why? Because becoming something other than you are, no matter how small the change, is nothing short of revolution.

And revolution, by definition, is the overthrowing of the old with the new.

And we, dear friends, for the most part, do not want to overthrow the old. Not really. It’s easy to focus on the negative of how we (or things) are when we have no intention of or belief that we will change. But, when our talk of revolution and becoming gets discussed as a real possibility, and the cliff from which we must jump is right before us, we all quickly realize the many perks that we enjoy from how we (or things), and we find out whether or not we really want to throw it all away for something new. 

Most do not. Including me, I sadly confess. But I am healing from this…and becoming.

It’s the work of my life, in me and offered to others. Let me just say that the “payoff of becoming” is so much sweeter than the “perks of the same”.

God help us all.

By the way…some more cool books for sale, going cheap currently, here.

“I don’t belong anywhere.” – powerless when spoken as accusation or resignation, powerful when owned as a false perception or realization

“That’s just the way I am.” – one of the saddest, most faithless phrases I’ve ever heard

“Just be.” – spoken my many, followed by none

Ever since I wrote part one of these three pieces, I’ve been enjoying using these three words, in my own mind, more and more as an explanation of my life and love for others…being, belonging, and becoming.

Perhaps there is more to my life and work than these three things, but if my life consisted of nothing else but these, and if my “ministry” to others gave help on nothing more than these, I would be overwhelmed with satisfaction. I will restate here that I am fairly consumed with the work of what each one means, how to practice them, and where they interact.

Belonging

It is quite amazing to watch people and see what they will do in order to feel like they “belong”. Perhaps in no one more dramatically than teenagers. I have seen students completely change their wardrobes just to belong. I have witnessed them allowing themselves to be used for sex just to belong. I have seen them scream “I hate you” to the folks that have sacrificially loved them most just to belong. I have seen them perform horrible cruelty to themselves and other living things just to belong. Much of what we do can be explained by this desire.

Of course, it is not just teenagers. I have seen adults submit to the strangest religious practices just to belong. I have seen them compromise their values just to belong. I have seen them kill themselves making money just to belong. I have seen them lord it over their kids quite harshly just to belong.

“Belonging” is something that people universally seem to be longing for (cheesy pun, there, I admit, but done quite accidentally, believe it or not. I noticed it on my proof-read!).

This idea of belonging speaks to our relational nature. Think about it. Have you ever been able to experience yourself “in relation” to something or someone else? The famous and ancient Greek challenge to “Know Thyself” can hardly be done without a context within which to do it, which demands that we find ourselves in the midst of or up against someone or something else.

Most everything can be explained in people through the lens of their desire to belong in relationship…

• to a family
• to a people group
• to a larger story
• to a movement
• to a company
• to a religion
• to a nation
• to a God
• to an ideology

I suppose one of the great human gifts that can be given from one to another is the gift of belonging. I know I fail constantly, but I do intentionally try, with everyone I meet, to assist them in feeling like they belong wherever we are at, wherever they are at, with me, and with mine. Generally speaking, I do this in two ways:

1. By looking past the superficial differences between us, as extreme and obvious as they may be, and look for myself in every person. Since I know how desperately I want to be loved, when I find myself in them (how we are just alike), I find myself loving them.
2. By looking past their humanity, as  broken and ugly as it may be, and look for Jesus Christ in every person. Since I know how desperately I want to serve Christ, when I find Christ in them (and he is always there), I find myself loving them.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when genuine love is inflamed inside of you for someone, you will do anything that is good for them, even at great cost or inconvenience to yourself. Our genuine love is the force that tempts the object of our love to feel belonging.

However, I have also noticed that most people who are longing for belonging usually do belong somewhere. It is not that belonging has not been intentionally offered, but something in themselves that keeps them from feeling the belong.

I know for a fact that I was accepted, warts and all, way before I felt accepted. I belonged way before I felt the confidence and security and well-being that comes from belonging.

Most, if not all, of you are, too.

The people who are able to “find their place” anywhere and with anyone are the people who already know they have one no matter what place they are at and with whom they are with.

There are those who go way too far at helping others feel like they belong because they themselves feel as if they don’t, and they are resolute in sparing others this deep pain in attempts to relieve their own.

That notwithstanding, those who have deep understanding and live in the reality that they belong to God, and their place is immovable, spend their time peacefully and patiently and painstakingly helping others feel like they belong, in order to show them that they really do.

Re-read and consider my opening quote above whenever you are tempted to blame your feelings of not belonging somewhere on someone other than yourself.

“Just be.” – spoken my many, followed by none

“I don’t belong anywhere.” – powerless when spoken as an accusation, powerful when owned as a realization

“That’s just the way I am.” – one of the saddest, most faithless phrases I’ve ever heard

I’ve been toying around with three human needs all of my life…being, belonging, and becoming. They came to me as this simple list of words on my way to the office this morning. I thought, “I bet I could categorize everything I’ve ever written, every sermon I’ve ever preached, every feeling I’ve ever felt under these three categories.”

Whether I can or not, I am fairly consumed with work of what they mean, how to practice them, and where they interact. So I thought I’d write about them directly for your consideration and feedback, one at a time.

Being

“Being” is a word that brings me peace. It confronts my inclination towards frenzy. It brings me back into the present.

It has been said that although we are referred to as “human beings,” we are better described as “human doings”. And at least in most of the developed world, the idea that we are in the “human race” takes on new meaning. The race we seem to be in seems so right and productive. It demands a life of “doing” to be sure. And the saddest thing is, most humans can not imagine an existence that is different (and often get angry when someone seriously suggests that there is). I hear so many cultural catch-phrases that that are embedded with the “wisdom” of busyness.

• “So much to do, so little time.” (so do as much as you can)
• “Time is money.” (so turn as much of the first into the second as possible)
• “With great power comes great responsibility.” (if you have a talent, it’s wrong not to use it at every opportunity)
• “Don’t just stand there, do something!” (As if just standing there isn’t sometimes the thing to do)

Flying in the face of this ever-present assumption that doing = joy, success, happiness, faithfulness is the age-old wisdom delivered through the Sons of Korah, “Be still and know that I am God.” (Ps 46).

A grown man wept uncontrollably in my presence yesterday. As he explained himself, he used words that capture in such an honest and raw way what is true, at some level, for all of us. He said,

“I have tried everything I know to do. I’ve taken it all on my own shoulders. I’ve been handling it all myself. I’m running myself ragged. It’s not working. I don’t know what to do.”

I told him to stop trying so hard and stop doing so much. I said that whatever it is that is next for him, the idea of ‘”letting it happen” will be better guidance than the idea of “making it happen.”

This theme runs throughout scripture (invisibly, to most of us)…

When faced with an overwhelming battle to fight, the people were told: “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Ex 14:13-14)

When they opened their Bible’s for the first time in years, and felt convicted at how far their lives had strayed from the true and good ways, “the Levites calmed all the people, saying, “Be still, for this is a sacred day. Do not grieve.” (Neh 8:11)

When others seem to have more success than them, and particularly when they do so with unfair, unjust or adversarial means, David says, “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.” (Ps 37:7)

I’ve learned to depend on this in my life. It’s a far better (and simpler, and easier) way to live. His offer stands for every single person when he says, “Be still before the LORD, all mankind, because he has roused himself from his holy dwelling.” (Zech 2:13)

And in case you need to see how Jesus applies this (which I always do), here’s how he goes about it: “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working. I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does.” (John 5:17-20)

Nothing could be more practical than this.

Take note, doing addicts, that there is no need to defend the actual practice of doing some things. You will miss the heart of this message entirely if you need to pretend that I’m lifting up some sort of constantly inactive, un-diligent, lazy or apathetic view of things as the way of Christ.

On the contrary, there is plenty to do. Jesus said, “I, too, am working.” But if you do it by yourself, it will be nothing, and it will consume your life with fruitless doing.

There is no shortcut. We need to learn to see what God is doing and join him in that as he shows us all he does.

If you need something to “do” – then do that.

Next piece: Belonging

“I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction.” – Deuteronomy 30:15

“Choose life.” – Deuteronomy 30:19

“Listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life.” – Deuteronomy 30:20

I was faced with a horrible choice yesterday.

I was leaving an intense day of work and headed home to pick up my son for soccer practice.

I found myself tired. And I found myself wanting a Dr. Pepper. Toot n’ Totom was up there on the right. As I was driving by, I was torn between my desire for a Dr. Pepper and my desire to not expend the energy it would take to stop, get out of my car, and go in and buy a Dr. Pepper.

As I was deliberating what to do, a brutal moment of self-awareness smacked me across the face. I was choosing between being lazy or being unhealthy.

I started laughing. (Partly because of what I’m about to tell you, but partly because I’m the freak that for some reason thinks up stuff like what I’m about to tell you!)

The first quote above popped into my head…you know, the one where God says that he puts before us the choice between life and death. Yet here, on my drive home, I had put before myself the choice between death and death.

I have so many friends that live here. They are choosing not between life and death (that God consistently puts before them), but between death and death (that they consistently put before themselves).

• Should I get even or be bitter?
• Should I lie or should I hide?
• Should I be violent verbally or physically?
• Should I give in or give up?
• Should I get drunk or high? (ever thought of staying engaged with reality?)
• Should I buy clothes I don’t need or electronics I don’t need? (I know lots of hungry people.)
• Should I divorce out of a loveless marriage or stay in a loveless marriage out of duty? (um…how about addressing the loveless thing…you know, by loving)
• Should I have meaningless sex or sex I convince myself is meaningful so I can have sex? (If sex is your end game, you’ll do one or the other, inside or outside of marriage)
• Should I be rebellious or religious? (Two self-defeating approaches to shame – one denies it, the other manages it)
• Should I vote Republican or Democrat? (I’m only kinda kidding here)

The decision that offers two bad choices never comes from God. We humans provide those for ourselves.

God gives us the choice the between death and life. There are exceptions, but most of the time, most people know the difference.

I mean, c’mon, take a look at the Ten Commandments. They don’t take spiritual super-powers to understand or agree with. Don’t steal. Don’t murder. Don’t sleep with someone else’s spouse. Don’t overwork yourself or those who are under your authority. Tell the truth. Honor your parents. Don’t revolve your life around worthless things. Love God. Represent God’s love well.

I think it was Francis Chan who pointed out to me that the Ten Commandments, contrary to popular belief, are not some super-high idealistic standards that are hard for human beings to measure up to. On the contrary, a person has to exert quite a bit of energy just to get underneath these standards. They are more a basic list of the minimum standards of being a decent human. Jerry Springer and Steve Wilkos are making a killing on TV showcasing the people who break these commands, presenting them almost as freak circus acts that don’t have a clue. And based on what? These (almost) universally accepted commandments.

Some recent shows:

• “DNA: It’s your baby!” – 7th commandment
• “I know you murdered my son.” – 6th commandment
• “My mom made me lie.” – 9th commandment
• “Steve, Lock up my daughter.” – 5th commandment
• “Sex and Drugs at 13” – 2nd commandment
• “My Teen Would Kill for the Klan” – 3rd & 6th commandment

I know these are dramatic examples, that seem so crystal clear, but that is only because they are on TV and being exposed through the simple “life” vs. “death” choices that they are. If Steve or Dr. Phil got a hold of you and your self-defeating choices, they would seem drastically crystal clear, too.

I guess here is my point: Before we make a choice, we choose what it is we will choose between. 

God could just as truthfully have said, “Here, I set before the the choice between choosing between death and death, or choosing between death and life.”

So many of us have chosen death from the start by being fooled into thinking our choices are between two death-producing ones.

LET US ADVANCE from choosing between two different flavors of death, to the choice of Deuteronomy 30:15 – between life (-giving things) and death (-producing things).

 AND THEN, when we stand at that much healthier crossroads, follow the advice of Deuteronomy 30:19 – choose life!

For those who make it that far, those few who choose life consistently and faithfully, there becomes available to them another set of choices.

The choice between life and life.

If and when you get there, my friends…where you must choose between a life-giving thing and a more life-giving thing, struggling to discern which is which…well, wow. Praise God. You will then have entered into the most glorious adventure of your life. And to make that choice, you will then need the instruction of Deuteronomy 30:20 – listen to His voice.

“The man who accepts that there are never only bad choices will always find a good one. The man who always chooses the good one will always find himself with more than one good one from which to choose. And the man who learns to hear from his heart which good choice is best for him, and in faith obeys, finds himself living in the midst of miracles. He is the man with the most abundant life, for he has found life in God.” – Yours Truly

…I was a part of an experience that left a mark.

It was an experience with death. But it was much more than that. It was also and experience with love. And with family. It was pain and comfort at the same time. Laughter and tears. Immense, unbearable, and crushing sorrow (for a wife, a daughter, a son, among others), but also powerful, relieving, load-lighting gratitude (for the husband and dad, who was suffering constant pain).

It was the day that my friend Rick Owens took his last breath.

It ended a long journey against life-stealing disease, but it was life-giving disease, too. While his body was dying, his spirit leapt to life with the clarity and love for God and others that only comes to those who have an awareness of how brief life is.

Most of us don’t. But Rick did. And being with him in those last months and weeks and days left a mark. A mark that I hope I don’t soon forget.

I spoke about much of this at his funeral. You can listen to it here.

  (Non-flash audio link)

Rick…I love and miss you. I hugged your wife and son last night, and will pray for them and your beautiful daughter all day today. Thank you for how you handled death. Thank you for how you handled life while it was yours. But thank you especially for how you handled death.

And thank you for knowing and loving Christ. We all look forward to life without end together.

“Jesus looked at him and loved him.” – Mark 10:21

This little phrase captures what I am trying to become.

I want the love that naturally welled up in Jesus when he looked at this young man to be what happens in me when I look at anyone. And I want this to be as observable in me as it apparently was for Jesus by Mark (or Peter, who some think was behind the writing of Mark). And I want this to happen no matter my disposition, condition, or mood. I want it to happen no matter my previous experiences, either with the the person I’m looking at or with others that they remind me of.

Let it be said that whenever I with anyone that “Brian looked at him and loved him.”

I know I’m asking a lot.

I think a lot about becoming like Christ. The idea dominates most of my waking hours.  It’s the goal of my life. It’s the joy of my life. It is the guide of my life, the call of my life, and I might even say it (or more accurately, he) is the source of my life.

There are some who believe it is also the curse of my life.

Think about it…Who can attain to this? How unrealistic is it? How often must I experience failure with such a  high standard?

And when do you get a break from this work? At what moment of which day is there a time when you can “switch off” the work of being like Christ? When I’m with my closest friends? With my wife? With my kids? Alone with God?

I confess I’ve done all those. I’ve “given myself permission” to “be honest about how I feel towards someone” or “about something” and let it all hang out there. There is something liberating about it, to be sure. To have a safe place in which I can show my ugly, offended, small, vengeful, angry, “I-have-rights-and-I-deserve-to-have-them” self. I’ll tell you that on the days that I feel the need to do that, it always turns out best to do it with God. My kids should never have to handle that. My wife can sometimes, but that is understandably confusing for her. I have some friends that have an easier time handling it, mostly because they can go home and don’t have to live with me. So, of all of those options, God seems to be the one that can handle me best, as He remains unchanged and unfazed by my raw, fragmented, unperfected self.

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what I’m needing in those moments. Someone who’s love is unchanged when I am at my worst.

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what I want to be for others…someone who’s love is unchanged when they are their their worst.

And at the end of the day, and whether I realize it at the moment or not, “switching off” from being this doesn’t heal me, and my perceived need to do so has surfaced as an illusion. Taking a vacation from this work of being like Christ (which isn’t really work, but choice) is no vacation at all. It just creates more work (which really is work), and of the self-defeating variety.

Write this down: It is always self-defeating to handle something or someone unlike Christ. Or said another way, maybe better…it is always self-defeating for me to look at anyone and not love them.

So, after plenty of experimentation, witnesses and observers of how I live need to realize that the curse of my life is no curse at all. Since grace abounds in my failures, I need not dwell on or feel guilt about it when I fail to surrender to the spirit of Christ within me. And most encouraging is the fact that I don’t even need to believe that living like Christ is unattainable (1 Jn 2:1 captures both of these trusths).  

And even if following Christ in how he lived and looked and loved was impossible, and even if I was confused and or despairing about it, and even I suffer in my feeble attempts to do so, and even if I bought in to the illusion that I need a break from it…shoot, even if Jesus himself looked at me noticing my extreme difficulty and, desiring to give me an easy out, asked “Do you want to leave?”… I would still stay, answering the way Peter did… “Lord, to whom shall [I] go? You have the words of eternal life. [I] believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (Jn 6:68)

He has it all…

Peace that passes understanding.

The full measure of joy.

Love without condition.

Abounding grace.

Life without end.

I got this email today from a friend. And while this kind of note or phone call is common for me, today I’m just in a space where it triggered some deep emotion.

Brian: [I have met] a young man that you might be able to connect with. He’s really adrift and feeling pretty worthless. His dad is in prison (don’t know for what) and he is terribly afraid of disappointing his grandfather. He doesn’t seem to have a strong connection to his mom. I thought if maybe you could find the time to just come and have a coke with him, you might be able to connect with him. He apparently goes to (or has in the past) church, but he’s really struggling with his faith along with everything else. Let me know what you think – he sounded like he would be willing to talk to you if you would be willing. Thanks.

If you got this email from your friend, what would you do?

There are not many circumstances that I can say this about, but for this one, I can say that I know exactly what I will do.

I’ve already emailed my friend back to tell her I’m willing and asked her for the best way for he and I to connect.

I’ve already prayed for this guy. And not so much that all of his problems will disappear, but for me to start seeing and feeling him as a real human being…to have an openness to accept him as a brother or possibly as a son. This is so I won’t treat him like a some kind of “project” or as an inconvenience to my routine or as a problem to be fixed or as an issue to pass on to someone or something else. I’ll have to return to this prayer constantly, and I will.

I’ll then drive down there and buy him a coke and listen to him deeply and single-mindedly. Since you can’t really listen to someone while doing anything else (contrary to popular belief and practice), I’ll work hard to ignore the distractions of my phone, my thoughts, and my watch. I’ll have to do this work constantly, and I will.

Then, and I guarantee this, I will feel completely over-whelmed and over-my-head, baffled with questions of how to help him and what to do next. This happens every time, and I’ve come to expect it…even welcome it… for me, it’s always proof positive that I have followed God, and will need Him to be of any use. 

Even with this, I still know what I’ll do next. I will invite him to my basement on Tuesday nights at 8:30pm, and/or to my living room on Sunday evenings at 5:30 for him to get to know a whole bunch of us who have felt (or does feel) like him and are experimenting with how Christ can help us connect with God & each other in a way that heals, restores, and transforms.

That’s pretty much the extent of what I’ll do.

But here’s what will happen next: If and when he comes to either of these groups, he will be engaged personally, invited to share his story (and hear ours, if he is at first uncomfortable in sharing his, which you may surprised is rarely the case), and surrounded by support and love. Then, if and when he is willing, his name and phone number will be in about a dozen new people’s cell phones, and theirs in his. No matter how he has sinned, what his personality is like, what quirkiness he exhibits, he will be in the midst of people that love to work a little bit harder than most I know (Christian or not) to find this guy’s beauty and potential as a child of God. Inasmuch as this guy wants it, he will be accepted where he is at and challenged to take responsibility for moving towards the best possible life available to him…the life of Christ.

This is my life. It is a good, good life. And when I do this, I feel more like I’m being the church that Christ intended than I ever have.

And here’s the thing…for me to have the agility and ability to do that when the opportunity arises (which it does for everyone when you have eyes to see), I have to already have in place something else. A system.

I kinda hate the clunkiness of the word, but I need one, so I’m going with it.

I can do what I’m going to do because of a system that I already have in place that makes room for this guy in my life (or in my “church”). This system (which is, simply put, a couple of small groups that meet weekly for the purpose of taking off the mask and helping each other become more like Christ) is almost completely relationally based, demands involvement from anyone who would come, gets to matters of the heart quickly, and believes in everybody.

How many people in this city do you think generally fit the description that my friend has chosen to describe this guy?

• He’s “adrift”
• Struggling to feel worthy
• Spiritually fatherless
• Afraid of disappointing others
• Lacking strong connections with important people
• Has tried church and is left wanting
• Struggling with faith

And here’s the kicker, and the opportunity that I keep finding with almost everyone I meet “…he sounds like he would be willing to talk if I am willing to talk.”

And I am. This is my life. And I love it.

My day job consists of me trying to transition an incredibly loving and committed, but stereo-typical local church, from one system to another. A system that better makes room for this guy and addresses what my friend said he’s ready, willing, and open to addressing. A system that is more relationally based (like Christ), demands involvement from anyone who participates (like Christ), gets to matters of the heart quickly (like Christ), and believes in everybody (like Christ).

Simply said, I’m trying to transition this church into one that has a system that invites people to sit down over a coke and talk.

Our current system invites people to sit down, alright. “Sit down” in a big room with pews and listen to a preacher. “Sit down” in some smaller rooms and listen to a teacher. In some of the rooms, the teacher might even invite you to talk for a moment. Shoot, they may even hand out those cokes! But the likelihood that our current system will connect with you and talk…really talk… about your feelings of unworthiness, or fatherlessness, or fear of disappointing others, or in your faith struggle, or of your being “adrift” are quite slight, and would require a whole lot of initiative on your part.

Now…the message in the system we currently use is good. Jesus Christ has come to give us life, life to the full. Forgiveness is yours. Love is real. God is accessible. Purpose is available. Death is defeated. But the system being used to deliver that unchanging message needs to be changed.

I wish I could say that our current system was bad. Transitioning into a new, better system would be so much easier if our current system was just plain bad. But it’s not. It does some good. And further, in the past, when it was operating within the culture it was designed for, it has done some incredible good… including for some of the people who are currently within it. As a result, some have deep affection not just for Christ and his message, but for the system that was used to deliver them to Christ. This makes altering it very, very difficult. It’s human nature, really, not villainous. Just like we hang on to old high school letter jackets that don’t fit anymore because of the good that we associate with it, we hang on to our old church systems that don’t fit anymore because of the Good that we associate with it.

But the emails and the phone calls and the friends of friends of friends who are looking for life keep coming in. I will pass approximately 20-30 churches on the way to meet this guy over a coke, all of whom deliver the same message that I will deliver, but through systems that don’t work for him.

If we would just interpret the culture we live in as diligently as we attempt to interpret holy scripture, I believe we would find that he represents an ever-increasing number of our nation.

God help us.

Eowyn: “I fear neither death or pain.”

Aragorn: “What do you fear, my lady?”

Eowyn: “A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.”

These words of Eowyn stir my soul. I, too, share her fear. Only my fear goes farther. I fear I’m already in a cage. I fear I’ve used them long enough that I’m beyond accepting them…I want them. I protect them. I fight for them. I fear that my chance for valor has already come and gone.

Not all the time. And certainly not intellectually. I “know” that my moment hasn’t past. Further, I know that my opportunity for valor is a daily choice, that it comes and goes constantly, and that in each and every moment lies my chance to be love or be less. To be courageous or be common. Manly or mediocre. I know this.

But sometimes. Like when I watch an epic like Lord of the Rings, see the life and death war going on so clearly, witness people clearly choose sides, and then watch different characters on the side of good argue and choose whether to be brave or cautious. Something in me, something deep, rushes to the surface. When I see Eowyn, even (maybe especially) when navigating unbelievable circumstances, any one of which would suffice in giving her an excuse to check out and merely survive (the unfair death of her cousin, the banishment of her brother, the loss of her uncle’s mind, the suffering of her people, her own injuries and limitations), without hesitation and with fire speak what it is she does and does not fear. Those times…when my soul is stirred…my secret fears rush to the surface.

And when they rush to the surface, and I choose dedication instead of denial, I admit that I fear that my fears are the opposite of Eowyns.

I fear that I fear death or pain (and pain more than death).

I fear that I do not fear a cage.

• That as long as I can feel like I chose it, I’ll call it freedom.
• That as long as it provides enough comfort, I’ll call it my calling.
• That as long as it affirms me enough that I’m making a meaningful difference, I’ll stick with it.
• That as long as it keeps telling me I’m courageous, I’ll pretend that I am.

I read one of his essays this morning in a moment of stillness, and in it Thomas a’ Kempis says, “Those who are great in love are truly great.”

Am I truly great? Am I great in love?

The answer is no. In the arena of love, I am a beginner. I am addicted to it, and I have spent my whole life attempting it, but I am still a novice.

When you consider the standard of love taught to me by my teacher, and modeled for me in dramatic fashion, I must admit that although it is the area that I have spent the most time on, I am can hardly consider myself competent in it. I rarely love like this.

Surprisingly, this encourages me, and emboldens me. It reconnects me to the clarity of the life and death battle of which I am in the midst, helps me see who has chosen good (abundant life) or bad (life in a cage), and helps me decide that, since I have such a long distance to go, I can give my all to it and never run out of work. I will never exhaust the riches that come from pursuing this life of ever-increasing love. It has been, is, and will be the adventure of my life. And just like Lord of the Rings, it is set in the most spectacular of settings, with the most interesting and colorful cast of characters, some of whom are (and all of whom have the potential to be) the most amazing people I have ever met! And I get to call some friends.

How great is it that these moments of opportunity, my moment to be all that I can be, will never run out, pass me by or escape me. Can anyone be too old, too weary, too slow, too spent, or too incompetent to give their life for a friend? I think not. Therefore, the highest greatness available to a human being is always upon us. The cage, no matter how long we have dwelled in it, no matter how accustomed we are too it, no matter how many agreements we have made, we can escape it. And live again.

Aragorn responded one more time to Eowyn in the above dialogue. He said, “You are a daughter of Kings. A shield-maiden of Rohan. I do not think that will be your fate.”

I don’t know what you believe, but I have become convinced that I’m a child of a King. A warrior of Good. I do not think the cage will be my fate.

Yet humility demands that I admit that I fear it will be. And living with that fear is seeming okay to me, because I think the life I want demands that I accept it as a friend that reminds me to choose to not be. Which will sometimes mean choosing pain. Maybe even death.

This writing has landed me on this new revelation, yet it sounds so familiar. Ah, yes. The life of choosing pain and suffering already belongs to someone. He called for it long ago. And it seems he’s calling me to it again.

So once again…my heart’s deepest longing leaves me no choice. I want the courageous life. The good life. The life that costs everything. The life that makes a God-honest difference. I must follow Christ.