2/28/2021 0 Comments You can choose not to love, but pretending you don't know what love is will never be an acceptable reason.When you're born to a virgin, make blind people see and lame people walk, and then you rise from the dead as a closing act, it's easy to have your ability as a teacher overlooked.
But Jesus was an incredible teacher. There's a story in Luke. A religious expert stands up in the middle of one of Jesus' "classes" and tries to test the teacher. He asked Jesus, "what do I have to do to gain eternal life?" Jesus, being the teacher he was, turned the question back to the expert. What do the laws say about that, he asked the man. The man rightly said, well, I have to love God and love my neighbor. Spot on, Jesus said - sort of a proud tearcher moment - do that and you're good. The religious expert couldn't leave well enough alone there, though. Not this dude. But who is my neighbor, the man asked? I mean, how can I love my neighbor if I don't really have a good working definition of what a neighbor is? I'm picturing all sorts of Facebook emojis that had to be dancing around in Jesus' head at this time. 🙄🤦♀️🤮🤬 But Jesus, being the underappreciated teacher that he was, he didn't miss a beat. Instead of unleashing a fury of emojis, Jesus told the man a story. Jesus told him the story about a man who was robbed, beaten and left for dead on the side of a road. He told the man, a priest passed by this dying man and continued on as if he hadn't even seen the man. Then next, a Levite did the same. But a Samaritan man came upon the scene - a Samaritan with a reputation of not helping out men like the dying man - and he stopped and helped him. He spared no expense to make sure the man was taken care of. After telling the man this story, Jesus asked the man, now which one of those three men do you think did the neighborly thing for that dying man? Of course, the answer there was obvious. It was obvious to the religious expert. It's obvious to you and me. Jesus has a knack for doing that in my life. He has a way of pointing out how frequently I hide behind a frantic search for answers to avoid the hard work of living out the answers I already know. Jesus has a way of pointing out how often I go around trying to memorize the rules of life when there's really only one rule that needs memorized. Love. Jesus, through the kindness of a story, with the gentleness of a teacher, was telling this religious expert, quit playing dumb. You know daggone well what love looks like. You can choose not to love, Jesus was telling him. You can choose not to love, but pretending you don't know what love is will never be an acceptable reason. At least not in this teacher's classroom. I love how Jesus could get his point across. To religious experts, and to me...
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Several years ago, I had the opportunity to speak to Governor Northam's Advisory Commission on Opioids. To me, it was a big opportunity. Our office had been advocating for state funding for a position to lead the statewide efforts on training about the impacts of adverse childhood experiences - also known as my dream job.
All the "heavy hitters" were in this meeting. If I couldn't sell them on the importance of this work then, in my mind, I never would. I only had 15 minutes. Hardly enough time to tell the story I wanted to tell. But still, I felt like I knocked the story out of the park. That is, until talking to some of the "heavy hitters" afterwards. I vividly remember telling my boss later, they don't get. They never will... This week, I've been involved in an online training where I'm helping train people to present the information I presented to the commission that day. Yesterday, one of the trainees told a story that will live with me forever. She told us that several years ago she lost her brother in law to an opiate overdose. As a result, she found herself sitting in a meeting of Governor Northam's Advisory Commission on Opioids. You guessed it - the meeting I spoke at. She said when she heard me speak that day it changed her life. She said that day she came to better understand what had happened to her brother in law. She said from that moment on, she began dreaming of one day being able to present the information I shared that day. She said sitting in the training with us this week - three years later - she said it was a dream come true. I walked out of that meeting three years ago dejected. I was dejected because I was focused on my story and my ending. But you know what, God was fired up that day. He was dancing in heaven because I had written a story he was about to write into healing and a dream come true for someone else. How crazy is that - that the stories we toss in the trashcan like a meaningless draft, God's walking behind us pulling those crumpled pages out and smiling God-sized smiles while he goes about changing lives with them? Last night, I was sitting in my chair, eating a bowl of ice cream, reflecting on what that young lady had said about her dream come true. I was sitting there telling God thank you - thank you for writing stories I don't have the imagination to write. Thank you for making a best-seller out of the scribbling I too often throw away like it's not good enough. I was sitting there full of gratitude, that bowl of ice cream in my lap, when I got a text message from my boss. Kind of scary since she never reaches out to us at night. But she was letting me know that yesterday our state legislature had approved funding for that dream job I went to advocate for all those years ago. I had tears in my eyes as I sent her a message of thanks, and as I told her the story of my encounter with that young lady earlier in the day. My boss said she had goosebumps. I said, so do I... I had goosebumps because once again God was telling me - you gave up, but I never did. And I never will. I had goosebumps because on a day when I was feeling like I wasn't good enough, God found a way to say you're not feeling good enough because you're thinking about how good someone else THINKS you are, not how good I KNOW you are. I had goosebumps because at the end of the day, no matter how ugly this draft of our story of mine is, God is absolutely determined to write a best seller out of it. That is all I need to keep writing. That is all I need to know to go tackle this day. Keep writing your drafts. Keep dreaming. You have no bad drafts. You have no bad dreams. I promise you that..... 2/25/2021 0 Comments Deliberately think about deathThis morning, I was reading Ryan Holiday's list of 100 (short) rules for living a better life. I got to number 23 and stopped. It said, deliberately think about death. Every day, multiple times a day.
I thought about that a bit. Then it occured to me, I think the one thing that gets us to being content with parts of our life that maybe we shouldn't be content with, or we get stuck in places that aren't the best places to be stuck in, I think that happens because we get to thinking life just goes on forever. We know it doesn't. But so much of life is geared toward avoiding death that I think some days we actually get to believing it IS avoidable. I had dinner with the boys last night. While we were eating, there was a television showing news coverage of the horrible accident pro golfer Tiger Woods was in this week. As part of the story, they interviewed a fellow golfer. They asked this golfer if they thought Tiger would ever golf again. This golfer answered, that's the furthest thing from our minds. We're just happy Tiger is alive. I looked at the boys and said, I bet Tiger is too... My guess is, Tiger Woods' life will look dramatically different on the other side of his very near death experience. When life rolls you upside down in your vehicle, when you hear the jaws of life cutting that vehicle apart to free you, I think you probably hear life saying, I'm not here forever. When your day gets smacked with a reminder that this day might be your last, you get a little more real about the things you do with that day. You get a little more real about asking yourself, is this who I'd want to be if it ended this moment? If it ended right now, would this be the thing I'd feel proud to be working on? This thing I'm putting off until tomorrow - what does the world miss out on if that tomorrow never comes? If you're content, that's fine. And if you're stuck, that's fine too. Unless your content because you think you've got plenty of time to find true contentment. Unless your stuck because you feel like there's plenty of time left for life to come set you free. Because in that case, you may be telling yourself a lie. In that case, it might be helpful to deliberately think about death. Every day, multiple times a day. It's probably a better reminder than hearing the jaws of life.... Is there a crueler lesson in life - to chase happiness all the way through it - only to get to the end and realize it wasn't a chase at all, but a choice?
I don't think so. There can't be anything crueler. Bronnie Ware spent years in palliative care. She cared for the dying. When writing about the top 5 regrets of the dying, one of them stuck out to me. Ware says: "Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called comfort of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to themselves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again." So much there, really. But the idea of staying "stuck in old patterns and habits" spoke to me. I believe every one of us longs to "laugh properly and have silliness" in our lives again. But sadly, we think that laughter and silliness is something to be chased. We think it is something I get tomorrow when I become this person life has convinced me I need to become. Or, it is something I get when I finally undo the things from yesterday life has convinced me I never should have been. And that becomes the great happiness chase; the chase to undo and the chase to become. When, it seems, in the end - according to a lot of people like Ware who work with the dying - most people will wish they had just stopped chasing and had simpy been. They'll realize their goal every day shouldn't have been to undo or to become, but to simply be. John Wooden, one of the greatest coaches of all time, once said, "Make each day your masterpiece. When you do that as the weeks and months and years....unfold behind you, you'll have the deepest self-satisfaction knowing your life has really meant something." What keeps us from making a masterpiece today? A masterpiece fully of laughter and silliness. I think it's chasing instead of painting. I think it's chasing a way to undo yesterday's tears or it's chasing down a way to prevent tears from coming along tomorrow. It's chasing instead of just sitting down today and painting laughter and smiles. Happiness is this choice to end the chase. It's finding and doing life with the people who want to reach out and bring me back from those yesterdays I get stuck undoing, and they say let's smile together right here. It's finding and doing life with the people who want to reach out and bring me back from the tomorrow's I get lost dreaming in, and they say let's laugh a little about today. Happiness isn't a chase, it's a choice. It's a choice that ends the pretending. It's a choice that prevents us from getting to the end of our lives and realizing in one dying moment that happiness wasn't pretend at all - it was a lie. The beautiful thing is, if you're reading this, you're still alive. You don't have to wait to learn the truth, you can live that truth now. You can quit chasing today and start painting. Each and every day, you can paint a masterpiece. There's a story in Genesis about two brothers - Esau and Jacob. Jacob steals Esau's birthright and then spends 20 years hiding from him, fearing retribution.
Then one day Jacob decides to go home. As the two brothers prepare to meet, Jacob is obviously a little uneasy about it. The night before their meeting, Jacob is alone and ends up in a wrestling match with a strange man. Turns out the man was God. In reading that story this morning, a part of the story hit me like it had never hit me before (Gensis 32:24-26): So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.” This morning is the first time it really hit me that long after Jacob could no longer physically wrestle with God, he kept clinging to Him. God had to tell him, you can let go now... I suppose one way or another I've been wrestling with God most of my life. But never more than I have this past year. The year of COVID, the year of losing a friendship that meant a lot to me, the year of losing a marriage, the year of a job going from looking like something I love to looking like the living room in my apartment, the year running races with lots of people turned to running through empty streets all alone. Oh, be sure, there has been some wrestling with God this year. I need to say, before I go further, there's a difference between wrestling WITH God and fighting AGAINST him. In my teens and twenties - I fought God. I wanted him out of my life. But this past year, I've been wrestling with him. Like Jacob, even when I was injured in that wrestling match, I've kept clinging to God. Clinging and clinging. You know, when God told Jacob to let go, Jacob said I'm not letting go until you bless me. And then this beautiful scene takes place. Like something out of a movie. God looks at Jacob and asks, what's your name. And he told him, my name is Jacob. Then God says, well, today I'm changing your name to Israel, "because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.” Oh, how that story fills me with hope. Jacob went into that wrestling match full of anxiety. He's been twenty years on the run. He's ready to meet a brother that he's convinced wants to kill him. But then God tells him to let go. Let go of me and listen, he says. You ARE an overcomer. You are Israel. Talk about the pep talk of all pep talks. Maybe you're like me this morning, and you're wrestling with God. Maybe you're saying, God, I'm not letting go until you bless me, until you help me see all of this is going to get better. Maybe you need to hear God say, let me go, it's daybreak. It's daybreak and I've got your back and I'm changing your name just so you know it. I've wrestled with God more than I ever have this past year. The thing is, because I've clung so tightly to him night after night, I feel closer to him than I've ever been. Too often we're trying to wrestle blessings out of God that he's already given us. Sometimes we just have to let go of him long enough to step back so he can reveal them to us. Long enough to step back and away from him and listen to him tell us, you're an overcomer. You're an overcomer and you've got this day, so go meet your brother. Go celebrate a beautiful reunion. Go win this day. This weekend, I got to watch my 14 year-old Elliott play two basketball games. In these COVID-19 times, watching your kid play ball feels like a gift.
But the gift went far beyond simply watching him play this weekend. Elliott has always been a talented little basketball player. Elliott has also quite often failed to play as talented as he is. He doesn't have an agressive bone in his body, which sometimes means his talent stays on the bench when he checks into the game. I've always told Elliott - dude, you're quick. Clearly you're not big, but you ARE quick. Quick means you don't have to be big. Use that quick first step to drive around and through the bigger guys and get to that basket like you own it, I'd tell him - my dad mask slowly lifting and revealing the crazed inner coach in me. Well, there I was this weekend, watching him. Watching him grab a rebound on one end of the floor and quickly cutting through defenders all the way to the other end of the floor. Right, then left, then right to the basket like he owned it. For a minute I was like, who is this kid? He missed the basket, but I wanted to stand and scream like he'd just hit a 3-pointer to win the NCAA championship. For one whole quick scamper down the court the dude was using every ounce of his potential. I assure you I put my dad mask back on and told him all about it afterwards. It's Monday, and I find myself wondering how often this week God will raise his God mask and reveal the crazed inner coach in him. How many times is God going to want to say to me, you know Keith, you're not the biggest or richest or smartest or most talented kid on this planet, but there's a corner of this world just waiting for you to come claim it. It's your turn to take that quick first step; when will you finally take it? How many times will God jump up and down this week like I just hit a 3-pointer to win the NCAA championship because he sees me finally making use of the potential he gifted me long before I held a ball? I picture that God. Not a God sitting around demanding or even hoping for our perfection - he's not sitting around waiting for us to make it big. He's just wanting to jump out of his throne and celebrate us making the absolute most of the gifts he's given us. Too often, "make it big" becomes our enemy. Making the most of what we have seems too small in comparison to the celebrities we dream of making of ourselves. God didn't give us potential to shape a world of celebrities. He gave us potential so he could sit back and celebrate with us the day we discover it - and then drive to the basket like we own it. So drive on this week. Drive to the basket like you own it. I do a lot of reading. Almost all of it is non-fiction. If I had to break it down even further - I'd say the biggest chunk of it is autobiographies or memoires.
I love learning how people have done life. My own life has told me we all have complicated stories we've had to navigate - complicated stories we continue to have to navigate - well, I love reading how other people have navigated their stories. When I first got interested in distance running, I was drawn to the stories of runners who've run 100 miles in one event. That seemed unfathomable to me. (I've since learned there are far longer unfathomable distances runners run - but 100 miles was the first unfathomable to capture my attention). I remember thinking, one day I'm going to run 100 miles. It remains a goal. I've started following these runners, talking to them and reading about them, and I've discovered that 100-Mile Runner might be their headlines, but if I ever want that to be MY headline, I need to start memorizing the stories these runners live before the headline is ever written. Stories that speak to the mundane runs that happen day in and day out that come with no headlines - the runs that spark no envy. Stories that speak to how they eat, how they prepare their bodies to run in ways that don't involve running. Stories that speak to giving up nights out at the bar and watching the latest Netflix series in one sitting. It's easy to read the headlines in life and think, I want that to be my headline, without ever reading the story that took place before the headline was written. But that story IS the story. Without the inputs in the story there is no headline to output. Without the tiny and often unenviable steps to the highlight reel, there is no highlight reel. More and more I want to know the unenviable steps. I want to memorize them. You know, Jesus knew one day there'd be a part of the world reading his headlines. There'd be a part of the world wanting to be like him. That's why he found 12 guys and told them to "follow me". Jesus knew one day the cross and the resurrection would steal the headlines. So he found 12 guys to memorize the steps he'd take on the way there. He found 12 guys who lived the inputs with Jesus so they'd one day be able to tell the story beneath the cross. I want to encourage you as you scroll through life and get captivated by the headlines, and maybe you read some that you want to become YOUR headlines. Go follow those people. Walk in their shoes. Live the day to day mundane that comes to life long before the ticker tape parades. If you follow enough of these people, if you read enough of their stories and their books, you'll discover these people actually found more life in the mundane than they ever found in the parades. More and more - that is where I too want to look for life. Sharing what I write used to be a scary deal for me. Because when I share what I write, or share anything I create or do, it's easy to start wondering what other people will think about it.
When I first started sharing my writing, I minimized the risk by writing things I knew a lot of people would approve of. Things that gave me the best chance of hearing them say "that's good" or "I really liked that". You know what I discovered? As soon as I had a collection of people I knew liked what I was writing, I moved on to worrying about the people I knew didn't like it - or the people I didn't know if they did or not. I started writing to a whole knew group for my reassurance. Writing has taught me there is no such thing as reassurance. We are creatures who love seeking it out, but the moment we have a taste of reassurance, we find the next thing to be unsure of. That's who we are. Then one day I guess I decided the value in my writing came from being able to share my life, not from getting reassurance about it. Writing taught me there is much more to be gained in life by taking risks, not by trying to drive risk to zero. I see so many people, and I've been there done that and still do, who spend so many hours of their day seeking the path of least risk and most reassurance. Their outcome, they get neither and they are living unfulfilled lives. Before I hit the "post" button on this article, I'm going to ask myself, if someone gives me feedback about the article that is not reassuring, will I regret sharing it? If the answer is yes, I'm not hitting "post." Because being fulfilled by what I just wrote is suddenly dependent on reassurance. I'll also ask myself, is there a risk in hitting the "post" button on this article. If the answer is no, I'm not hitting "post." Because I've discovered the writing that seems to impact other lives the most is the writing that feels risky - many days vulnerable - to share. Maybe that's a good test for our lives, today. Is this next thing I'm going to do being done to feel reassured. If so, don't do it. Is this next thing I'm going to do being do to feel like there is no risk in my life. If so, don't do it. Because the most meaningful and fulfilling things in life are usually on the other side of going bravely forward into spaces where there is not reasurrance, and there is a whole boat load of risk. I trust you all get my point here and won't go jumping out of airplanes without parachutes or driving 55 MPH down I-95 on the sheets of ice this morning. Sometimes monitoring the risk is a good idea - it's just not the best way to monitor our lives. 2/18/2021 0 Comments God is in the circles between usYesterday, a friend and I talked about circles. The circles between you and me. The circles between you and them.
I said life is a story. It always has been. Sometimes, though, I can get to thinking that story is me and my circle, or that story is you and your circle, but in reality, the real story is what happens in the circle BETWEEN you and me. The circle where our stories intersect. Life gets messy there, sometimes. Our stories are different, so they don't always blend well together. Sometimes it's easier to sit alone and read to ourselves the story of our own lives than it is to go live out the story I think God wants us to write in those circles in between us. I was doing some reading this morning in the book of Micah. Micah was a Jewish prophet. When he wrote the book of Micah, many of the Jewish people had a lot of different ideas about what it meant to honor God - most of them having to do with honoring idols and sacrificing animals and children. Micah gets to wondering out loud, what does it even mean to honor God? He wonders in Micah 6:6-8, is it sacrificing baby calves? Is it thousands of rams or armloads of olive oil? Is it sacrificing one's firstborn? I get there some days myself, Micah. (Not sacrificing my kids, even though we have had our days 🤷♂️). But I get to wondering, what exactly it is God wants from me? What does God want from my circle in life - how can I honor him - how can I let him know I'm here and I want to give him my attention? Micah goes on to answer his own question. Micah says, "he has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? I read that this morning and I got to thinking about those circles again. Sometimes we see God as his own circle. We see our relationship with God as my little circle talking up in the air to God's great big giant circle. But I think what Micah is saying this morning - saying to me anyways - is that God is in that circle between you and me. God is in that circle, and when we interact seeking justice for one another in that circle, when we interact with kindness to one another in that circle, and when we truly come to that cirlce with a desire to make a beautiful story out of the circle we create in our intersection there - even if it means shrinking the size of our own individual circle - God is in THAT circle. Too often I find myself retreating to my own circle and building a fortress around it. I look out into the world, and I see people scrambling to build similar forts around their own circles. Sometimes I think we do this to keep our own idea of God safe and warm in there. Sometimes to avoid exposing God to the messes that come when we meet in the circles between us. Sometimes I think we do it out of fear of exactly what God will make out of that circle between us. But this morning, I believe more than ever, we aren't going to see much of God in our lives if we don't go into those circles in the middle. Too often, I think we can stand in our own circles, hold high in the air to God all of these things we think he wants - reading our bibles and devotionals, showing up to church on Sunday, following every law and every commandment. I wonder this morning - I'm picturing it, really - if while we're standing in our own little circles holding all of these things high in the air, I'm wondering if God isn't looking rather indifferently toward them all, and simply pointing at the circle in between us. I wonder if he's pointing and saying, "I'm in there, dear child, not up here." 2/17/2021 0 Comments Flipping the scriptBecause of the work I do, people reach out to me looking for ways to help someone they love who is struggling. More often than not, the struggle is drugs or alcohol.
When they reach out, I can feel how concerned they are. How much they are hurting for and with the family member or friend they are wanting to help. So it always pains me when I have to tell them, if you are feeling more darkness over the struggle than the person you are trying to help, there is little you can do. Those aren't words I read somewhere. They are words I have lived. In some ways, they are words I continue to live. I think we all have scripts in our life we want to flip. We have these lives we want to live, new scripts, that we imagine are better - healthier - more beautiful - less painful than the lives we are currently living. We read books that we hope will help us figure out the secret to writing a new story. We listen to podcasts and watch YouTube self-help videos. But in the end, if writing that new story in our lives seems more painful than the story we are currently living. Oh, we'll stay living right smack dab in the middle of the story we're already in. We'll keep waiting for out turn in life instead of writing our turn into it. When I was in my teens and 20s, I smoked cigarettes. Sometimes a lot of them. I knew it was bad for me. I believed it when people said "those things are going to kill you." I always wanted to quit. But I never could. Then one day I woke up with a horrible pain in my chest. I was coughing uncontrollably. I had to fight to find each next breath. I truly thought I was going to die right then and right there. I didn't die. I survived whatever attack that was. And - I was never a smoker again. In that moment, the pain of the story I was living suddenly became greater than the pain of change. On one hand, that was a good thing. On the other hand, I think it set up a destructive pattern in my life. This pattern of always having to feel my script get unbearably painful before I'd rewrite the story in my life. A story I'd known needed rewritten for a long time. I'm grateful when people reach out wanting to help a loved one. But the people I like talking to most, ARE the loved ones. Those people struggling - feeling like someone stole the pen they were going to use to write a new script in life - write a story that would end in their turn in life. I like telling them your life is a mess - oh how I recognize your mess. Many days I AM your mess. But I also like being the one who can tell them - cleaning up that mess is messy, but it's not as messy as you think. Cleaning it up is painful, but not as painful as the pain you're living in. Because before any podcast or self-help video or counseling or anything is going to flip the script, they have to believe the pain of change isn't as painful as staying where they are. Sometimes, believing in a new script requires someone coming along and helping that someone see and believe in their new script. Sometimes it requires you or me saying to someone, I know life feels like someone stole your pen, but here - borrow mine. I'll help you write. Because believe me, you don't always have to wait for the pain to get unbearable to start writing. You can start flipping the script today, but you have to start writing. |
Robert "Keith" CartwrightI am a friend of God, a dad, a runner who never wins, but is always searching for beauty in the race. Archives
November 2024
CategoriesAll Faith Fatherhood Life Mental Health Perserverance Running |