you see what you look at

[Apologies to my late grandma for the blog title; she heartily disliked any sentence that ended with a preposition!]

 

When my best friend turned 16, he acquired (for $1,000!) a 14-year-old BMW. Given its age and mileage, he perpetually performed maintenance on that car -- for him, it was a labor of love. It looked sleek.

I, on the other hand, knew nothing about BMW's. If asked, I wouldn't have been able to identify them from any other brand of car.

But here's what began to happen:

 

Once I began to ride with him in this car, and listened to him talk so much about his car, I started noticing other BMW's everywhere on the road.

 

The distinctive headlights-

That logo-

I had no idea how many people drove this kind of car, until I knew what I was looking at [apologies again to grandma - another preposition!]. 

 

Once I could identify them, I could see them.

 

Isn't that how it normally goes for you and for me? What we look at, we tend to see. But until we know what we're looking at, we don't see it.

 

Some examples: 

-A friend will play you a song they love, and will point out a note sung (or instrument used) at a particular moment in the song. They'll tell you why they specifically love that part. You never noticed it before. But after it's pointed out to you, you can't not hear it.

-You love a particular snack. But until you told your friends about this, they'd never heard of nor seen it sold anywhere -- but since you told them, they see it all the time. They even will send you a message when they find it somewhere. "This makes me think of you"

 

So: 

 

If you're anxious, discouraged, disheartened, cynical -- I'm not going to say there's no legit reason for this. The world puts us all on blast every moment telling us what sucks and what's getting worse.

 

But I will ask: if you want more hope, more encouragement, less anxiety, less cynicism ... what are you purposefully looking at that'll point out to you those sources of hope? What are you looking at that'll show you why there's reason to feel encouraged? Where are you looking to that's committed to lessening your anxiety or cynicism? 

 

Who in your life reminds you of these things? Who in your news feed shows this to you? 

 

It's naively idealistic to think we can thrive without intentionally looking for what's hopeful, encouraging, authentic, true, or noble. If your social media feed is 15% encouragement and 85% doom and gloom, it's reasonable to presume your mood and mindset would correlate to this.

  Perhaps this is why the apostle Paul writes (while he's in prison) to the church in Philippi about this:

 

Truth is, our minds will fill with something. Ergo, we gotta watch what we think about and put into our minds (just like we gotta watch what we eat and drink to maintain our health). 

 

We see what we look at. What are you looking at?

what is, what was, what could be: thoughts on transferring

I vividly recall a college conversation with my friend Rachel not long after starting college. Rachel, college junior, was one of the few people I already knew when I started.

"I'm thinking of transferring to another school," I told her.

Why did I think this? The first month of college took its toll. The fluctuating yet persistent loneliness. 

The awkward meals sitting alone; I struggled with "putting myself out there." I missed my girlfriend back home. I missed family. I missed my friends. I missed my old job. I missed the routines of the old life. 

But I didn't just miss what used to be.

Attempting to adapt to college brought a steady supply of challenges. Everyone seemed like they adapted better, faster, more genuinely than me.

-Attempting to adapt to living with two new roommates wasn't comfortable; we politely shared our space, but we didn't bond.

-Attempting to adapt to pushing my introverted self out there to meet people felt forced, wearying.

-Attempting to adapt to timing my showers in the floor's communal bathroom stayed subtly bothersome.

-Attempting to adapt to my poly sci professor's incomprehensible,  jargon-stuffed, no-notes lectures left me feeling like I didn't belong (spoiler: I dropped poly sci as a minor).

All this attempting to adapt enticed me toward one idea: I should transfer. Even though I'd only recently planted myself in this fresh soil of college, I wanted to uproot. This reactivity did not satisfy my dear friend. "You just got here," Rachel breezily said. "Slow down; give it some more time."

Truthfully--I didn't like her feedback. Sometimes hearing a logical, sensible answer just annoys me.

And yet ... transferring seemed like a fair amount of extra work.

So, I stayed in the fresh, awkward-feeling soil, hoping these roots would acclimate and grow deeper.

Within a few month's time, Rachel's advice seemed begrudgingly wise. I did acclimate. I did make friends. The girlfriend from home and I broke up (so, in an abrupt way, that situation worked itself out). I found people to share meals with. Thought we had different schedules, my roommates and I got more comfortable with each other, and stayed friendly.

I settled in to this new life.

And so, I re-learned an important lesson: my initial feelings often mislead me. Maybe your initial feelings can often mislead you too.

 

It's like this: sometimes the familiarity (and our memories) of what was can fool our imagination's ability to accurately forecast what could be.

 

Don't stay fooled by the cross-fade of what was and what could be.

 

It took every bit of the "give it some more time" my friend Rachel suggested.

 

I met people my first few weeks of school that seemed like they could be my friends all through college. It didn't work out that way. But I met other people, and found another crowd or two by the next semester that ended up introducing me to lifelong friends. And by the end of that first year, I eagerly looked forward with joy to returning the next fall.

 

My friend Rachel's advice guided well; it helped me to be skeptical of my skepticism. A prayer I have for you is that you have someone who helps you to be skeptical of your own skepticism.

 

I never did reacquire poly sci as a minor, though.

can't God just ask someone else?

  

One of my pet peeves about TV shows and movies (now that we're on the subject) concerns the dialogue. 

It irks me when scripts have none of the casual, reactive conversing or life happening that occurs between regular people having an interaction.

To my dismay, no superhero -- before they zoom off to fight to save the galaxy -- ever engages in the necessary chore of first clearing their schedule, or getting someone else to cover their shift at work ("Uh yeah, we were supposed to get together for lunch tomorrow, but now I have this thing I sorta GOTTA go do -- any chance we could move this to another day??").

No one called to a quest in a movie ever has to first:
-double-check when their flight leaves -- 
-fold/put away clean laundry --
-charge their phone --
-empty the dishwasher --
-pack any bags --
-use the bathroom one last time --
-or most importantly, try for awhile to talk their way out of having to do the thing -- 

They're just ready to drop all of life, and get after it.

Yes: I realize I'm nitpicking about ... the realism ... of Hollywood scripts that do this (no one said pet peeves had to be reasonable).

So this is my roundabout way of expressing gratitude for Bible verses such as Exodus 4:13, the one above. The Lord gives Moses this new challenge: he's gotta go corral the Lord's enslaved people and lead them to freedom. Moses has to tell their captors to let them go. Their captors will resist. Moses has no army, no regiment to back him up.

If this were a movie script, Moses might respond by dramatically walking forward, gaze steady. He'd nod, the music would grow with settled determination.

And we'd know that he was committed.

But that's not what happens here. Moses gets to talk it out (today, he'd get labeled a "verbal processor").

Exodus 3-4 recaps the conversation between the Lord and Moses. What can we glean about God from this conversation?

a) It's actually a conversation. The Lord is not one to give an order, and then treat follow-up questions as a lack of faith, insubordination, or a waste of time. 

 

Quite the opposite. 

 

Some of us may have experienced this vibe when receiving tasks from our parents or other authority figures. Our only acceptable response was to listen and obey. We had no space to ask questions, or share input, or protest. That is not how the Lord interacts with Moses.

b) The Lord doesn't dismiss Moses' valid concerns. Moses notes that he lacks skill with public speaking.

Some of us, when we admit insecurities to our friends, can predict their overly-optimistic comeback: "Oh, that's preposterous! You're awesome at [whatever task you suspect you're not awesome at doing]. You're totally gonna do fine!!" And we may feel unheard.

The Lord doesn't try to correct Moses. There's no brushing off the concerns. The Lord says, "I will be with you, and will teach you what to say."

c) Then, the truth. Moses says, "Oh my Lord, please send someone else."

Moses knows the task needs doing, but he'd rather someone else take it.

Be honest: sometimes the Lord calls us (or asks us) to step toward situations we'd rather avoid.

But we gotta go do what the Lord asks us to do.

Don't hear what I'm not saying: I'm not saying that every conflict or every wrong that breezes across your attention span demands you drop what you're doing to intervene. "Whoever meddles in a quarrel not his own is like one who takes a passing dog by the ears." -Proverbs 26:17 If it's not our situation, then we should consider the cost of involving ourselves.

And yet ... this was Moses' people, and the Lord gave him this task and situation to fix. There'll be times when the Lord will call you to speak (with love and respect) what needs to be said. Or to do (with love and respect) what needs to be done.

Or to confront (in love and respect) that which you hope goes away on its own.
 

Or to care for (with truth and love) that which you'd rather disdain, or remain indifferent toward.

Or to reach out (in love and respect) when you'd rather stew in your feelings and avoid.

It's understandable to not be wild-enthused about every single thing the Lord may call upon you to do. If you gotta first talk it out with God, by all means, talk it out.

God's clearly OK with talking it out.

 

making it up as you go

Data about our home planet tells us that the earth's surface curves at about eight inches per mile.

Ergo, IF: 

a) your eyesight is top-notch, 

b) it's a clear sky

c) and your view is about five feet off the ground, 

 

you would -- AT MOST -- be able to see about three miles away.

Which is not that far at all.  

 

We can see only so far ahead.

 

This is true, not just in distance, but in life. We can only be prepared ... so far in advance. We can only be usefully anxious ... up to a certain point. Past that, we have to trust God that he'll equip our future self to creatively work with whatever will be before us.

There's this scene from the first Indiana Jones film that shows this ethos.

Indy's on a mission to stop the stealing of a historical artifact (yes, I know there's way way waaay more to the film ... I'm trying to not spoil it ... work with me here). 

 

When all appears lost, the following conversation ensues between Indy and his companions:

 

Indiana Jones: "Get back to Cairo quick and get us transportation to England -- a plane, a ship, anything. I'll meet you at Omar's. Be ready for me. I'm going to get that truck."

Sallah: "How?"

Indy:

This plan contains sufficient detail only up to a certain point. And then: "I have no idea, but future me will think of something." This is a life posture that I'd love to more naturally adopt.

Jesus sometimes teaches this way. He says, "Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matthew 6:34). Such a non-sentimental posture.

 

The first bit would look glorious on a motivational poster, amiright?

But if that poster shared why Jesus says to not be anxious, it pierces that pithy vibe straight through.

Like a skunk set loose in a boutique candle shop, it trades pithiness about anxiety for something more grounded.

Jesus is pragmatic: don't be anxious about tomorrow.

Why? because today has enough to occupy our anxieties.

This sounds like advice from someone who actually knows how anxiety can -- in a matter of seconds -- hijack a day, a meal, a moment, a mood, a conversation, or a night.

… that feeling of trying to will your heartbeat to settle down (and it beats ever faster)
… that feeling of trying to corral your thoughts from cycloning into a a mess (again)
… that feeling of trying to steady your breathing in the middle of the night (when worry pries open your eyelids)
…. that feeling of trying to not send another text or message, when all you want is to hear back

In those moments, someone telling you to ‘just stop being anxious’ or ‘just stop worrying’ does no good. But someone helping you redirect the anxiety to a sensible time frame … this shows compassion. Understanding. Grace. Attainability. This helps.

This is why, when someone offers us sips of this sort of hope, our fears seem a little smaller, and a bit less inflamed. It reminds us that future anxieties don't have to belong to us just yet.

So, is some situation causing you anxiety?
-Probably.

 

Is it a today thing or a tomorrow (or someday after) thing?

-Your answer determines how much weight to give it today.
 

Ergo: is all lost?
-Hardly. You’ll be amazed at what--when you ask God for help and wisdom--future you will work through. So pray about it. Give it some thought, then take a break from thinking about it. Talk to wise people you trust. Pray some more.

After all, we’re sorta making it up as we go, aren’t we? 

 

Prioritize today's anxieties over future ones.