9/30/2021 0 Comments Faith is patience with MysterySteven Furtick says, "faith is the willingness to abide in a place you don't fully understand the ramifications of."
The bible defines the word abide as 'continuing to be sure or firm.' I would rephrase what Furtick said like this: faith is being sure that no matter how unsure you are about it, the story you are in is going to work out OK. If you think about it, that's what we're all in pursuit of one way or another - assurance that the story we're in is going to end OK. I was leading a training yesterday. A woman in the training shared a story about crossing paths with a stranger who was in obvious distress. She asked the stranger, "is there anything I can do to help you?" The stranger responded, "would you please just tell me everything is going to be OK." The woman didn't want to tell the stranger everything was going to be OK. How could she know that? But it was clear how badly the stranger wanted to hear those words - so she said them. Everything is going to be OK. And for at least a moment, the stranger looked like she believed it. For a moment, the stranger was sure enough about her circumstances to stand firm in them. Because she, like us, simply wanted to feel sure about a circumstance that was overwhelming her with uncertainty. I am in a place these days I don't fully understand the ramifications of. Yet, more than ever, I stand firm. I stand with the assurance offered in the book of John chapter 15: 4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. There's a lot of truth there when I measure those words against my life. I spent large chunks of my life putting my assurances in things of this world - desperately begging the world to tell me and make me feel like everything was going to be OK. But as I bounced from assurance to assurance - person to person - habit to habit - self help book to self help book - the assurances were all fleeting. None of them allowed me to stand firm. And through all the bouncing, I heard a silent and nagging calling inside me - find your assurance in me. Abide in me.... Today I do - more than ever - abide in that vine. Today, more than ever, I no longer feel like I can do nothing. Today, more than ever, I do feel and see the fruit of life. Today, more than ever, I know the ramifications of things from my past I once didn't know at all. Those ramifications are: today I love God and love his people more than I ever have. I am in a place these days I don't fully understand the ramifications of. Only, I no longer need to know them. I live with the assurance that as long as this branch stays connected to the vine, I will bear fruit. And for a branch that's tried aimlessly connecting to a lot of different trees in life - only to walk away fruitless - that's all the assurance I need. It's hard to find assurance in mystery, but I've found that's the surest place to find it. It's where I discovered the power of faith.
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Sometimes I wonder how many opportunities I've missed in life while I was waiting on opportunity to knock. Because now I know - that although life is full of opportunities - they rarely come knocking at our door.
Seth Godin says, "Opportunity is another word for a problem to be solved. And opportunity is often there, but it rarely knocks." More than ever, I don't believe we're supposed to be living life in a holding pattern; life isn't meant to be played as a waiting game. More than ever, I don't believe we're supposed to be living life waiting on the smoke to clear so we can get back to living life. I believe we're supposed to walk through the smoke and take life back. I know this, if you walk into the world today and look for an opportunity, you'll find it. The opportunity to help someone. The opportunity to share a smile or a 'have a good day' with someone. The opportunity to write an article. Start a small business. Go for a run.... I suppose running reminds me more than anything that opportunity doesn't knock, but opportunity is always there. Yesterday, I led an 8-hour online training. It was emotionally exhausting. When I was done all I wanted to do was eat something and binge watch Manifest (which I highly recommend if you're not out chasing down opportunity 🤷♂️). But I knew there was an opportunity to run. I knew on the other side of that run was an opportunity to settle the emotions - to give myself my best chance for a good night's sleep. Every time I run, I get a physical reminder that opportunity didn't knock on my door, I knocked on opportunity's door. Every time I run, I get a physical reminder life feels better when we live it and not wait on it. If you're waiting to hear a knock today, I want to encourage you. Create the knock. Don't wait on it. Make this the day you say "I'm glad I knocked at life's door.' It feels much better than saying, "I wish life would have knocked today..." "When we avoid difficult conversations, we trade short term discomfort for long term dysfunction."
I know few truths better. I'm convinced that the 'meaning' behind a meaningful connection is the ability to have the difficult conversations. Without that, there is no connection. And without connection, there are a lot of people running around holding difficult stuff inside. It's not like we need to have that kind of connection with our entire Facebook friends list. It's fine to have a collection of 'friends.' We need them. But I'm afraid when it comes to the number of people many of us can have the difficult conversations with - that list is often stuck on zero. I support counseling. Therapy. I work part time in the counseling center of a local college - so I know the value. But more and more, I'm starting to believe we see our therapists as the people we have difficult conversations with when we're overwhelmed by the burden of not being able to have them with the people we really want to have them with. Again - having those conversations with a therapist IS a good thing. I'm just afraid, some days, as a culture we're losing sight of the best thing - having those conversations with one another. And listen, I'll be the first to admit I'm much better at writing about the importance of those conversations than I am at having them. I recently heard about a young person who took their life. At breakfast Sunday, in the middle of talking about our fantasy football lineups for the day, I knew I needed to talk to my boys about it. Fantasy football was a comfortable place. Who wouldn't rather talk about Cooper Kupp than suicide? But I've long said, I want my boys to think of me when they think of who they want to have the difficult convesations with in life. I know now they won't get there by me proclaiming that they can always talk to me. They get there by me actually having those difficult conversations. "Did you boys know the young person who took their life?" No. "Do you know there are a lot of people out there who have days when they wish they weren't alive?" Yes. I guess so. "And you know they aren't bad people, they are just having a hard time finding their reasons to be alive?" Yea. "Well I just want you to know if you're ever struggling with your reasons, I'm here." We know. Hey Elliott, I really think Josh Allen is going to have a big day against The Football Team today....... I don't know what kind of connection was made in that conversation. I don't know the long term impact it will have. But I know I had a difficult conversation that I didn't want to have. For me - that's one more step out of dysfunction and one more step toward the possibility of meaningful connnection. I'm sure I've missed out on a lot of good times in my life because good times weren't good enough for me. I've missed out on good while waiting for - maybe even demanding or expecting - perfect times.
Writing is one area in my life when I've become comfortable with good. And when I did, I discovered joy in an activity where I once found little. I used to write a sentence. Re-read it. Re-write it. Over and over again until it sounded perfect. Only to write the next sentence, which not only had its own imperfections, but it also sounded like an imperfect match for the sentence before it. So back to re-writing sentence one. Then one day I decided I'm not as interested in being a perfect writer as I am in writing good enough for people to understand what I'm thinking. I decided being a good messenger was much more important to me than crafting the perfect message. I wonder, how many people are out there today re-writing their roles as parents, their roles as spouses and friends, their roles in their jobs or in their hobbies like running. How many people are missing out on good times in those spaces while working to exhaustion to make those spaces perfect? How many people miss out on the chance to feel good about what they're doing for fear that others won't think it's perfect enough? Because I can tell you, the perfect situations we come to believe a lot of people are living in - we might be surprised by how people can get to feeling like they are drowning in those situations. Sometimes 'good enough' isn't a lowering of standards. It's a facing of reality. It's facing the understanding that perfection is a lie, which makes it an imperfect place to start when we're pursuing joy. Sometimes a lack of joy isn't because life isn't good, it's because perfection convinces us good isn't good enough. Today, maybe in some area of your life, stop and pause. Stop and pause and avoid speculating about how good that area can be one day, and treasure how good it already is. For a moment, ditch perfection for good. And maybe there you will find joy. I believe I was created. I believe I was created for a purpose. I've spent way too much of my life longing for purpose to believe I wasn't intentionally created for one. I get not everyone believes that. I just know I do.
Because I do, as much time as I've spent pursuing my purpose I've spent tracking down the creator of it. And you know, the closest I ever feel like I get to that is on a trail in the woods. Or on top of a mountain. Or looking out across an ocean that has no end. The closest I ever get to Him is in silent awe of what he has made. It's in those moments when I hear my creator say, as grand as I've created this, I've created grandness in you. I think it's good to engage with the seven billion other voices on the planet. We were created for that engagement. But there are times those voices separate us from the one who can show us who we are, who can show us our purpose. There are times those voices tell us God's love for us isn't as persistent as a walk through the forest. There are times those voices tell us God's love for us isn't as high as that mountain or as infinite as that ocean. That's when we need to separate from the voices that separate us. That's when we need to go to the trail or to the mountain or to the ocean - not to escape - but to be reminded. Be reminded that we are not who the seven billion voices on this planet want us to believe we are. But instead, be reminded that we are who the one who created us created us to be. There are many times in the bible when Jesus went out in the wilderness. Not to escape it all. But to be reminded. Sometimes clarity isn't about silencing all the voices that confuse and distract us. Rather, it's about finding the place where we can hear only the voice of the one who created us. A lot of people have thoughts on who they think we should be. Only one person knows who we were created to be. It's up to us to find the place where we feel closest to that voice. I've played this cycle out in my life more times than I can count and way more times than I am proud of:
I tell someone a truth 'because I love them.' They don't accept my truth. I no longer feel as much love for them. What I've discovered in that cycle is my truths have often been far more about my need to be right than my desire to heal and love. When truth comes from a place of love, it's not dependent on someone accepting it. When truth comes from a place of needing to be right - it's ABSOLUTELY dependent on someone accepting it. The reality is, we have no control over how someone accepts our truth, we can only control how we offer it. My greatest teacher for this lesson is Jesus. He came offering truths about love - what it actually looks like to love one another. Not everyone liked Jesus' truths. In fact, a group of Roman leaders decided to kill him for being so vocal about them. What was Jesus' response to this? He said, I understand you aren't buying it guys. I get it. Do what you need to do. I still love you. If you believe the Jesus story, that he rose from the dead three days after those leaders killed him, then surely you believe he could have found a way to force his truths on them. But he didn't. Why? Because his main truth was about how we are to love one another without needing to be right. His main point was that our hearts always need to be bigger than our egos. An egotistical God would have stuck around and made sure his killers paid a price for not accepting his truth. But my loving God died on a cross and said, I forgive them. I told them the truth about love - I accept they didn't believe me. Did Jesus go through that to demonstrate he had some super human capacity to love, or to model the capacity to love he believes we all have within us? A capacity he died to help us discover? There's a freedom that comes when we love without needing that love to be received in a specific way. I write this today with hopes you feel loved. Maybe you don't believe in Jesus. Maybe you don't believe there is much truth in what I've written. There would have been a day I wouldn't be OK with that; today I am. Because more than ever, my desire is for you to feel loved by me, not for you to agree with me. My buddy Greg ran his first 50 mile race at the Georgia Jewel last weekend. I was as proud of that guy's finish line picture as I was of my own. Maybe more.
After his race, Greg wrote a race recap. Here is a piece of what he wrote: ----- I finished a 50 mile UltraHike-a-thon! Oops…I mean ultramarathon. This outcome was definitely not a foregone conclusion. I mostly avoided even telling people I was registered for the undertaking because my skepticism was sky high. After nine months of training, my skepticism actually ROSE to galactic heights. After every weekend long run, I would tell my wife, “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” And because my wife is the most wonderful human I know, she would tell me both that I COULD do it and also that it’s ok if I don’t. But the question remained… HOW am I going to finish? I honestly couldn’t even picture it. I would ask my buddy Keith, the main propagandist who fooled me into joining this ridiculous distance, HOW am I going to finish? “You just gotta keep moving,” Keith said. Ok…but…like…HOW was I going to do that? Well, I found out. Contrary to my misconception, it had very little to do with ME, but a whole lot to do with the the ultra running community. Ultra runners are the most ridiculously, persistently, unfailingly, wonderfully encouraging people I’ve ever been around. “GOOD JOB!” “LOOKING STRONG!” “YOU’RE DOING GREAT!” Um…what? You people don’t even know me! I put my underwear on backwards half the time. I spent the entire training block tipping over during single-leg deadlifts. I’M IN LAST PLACE. “YOU’RE CRUSHING IT, MAN!” ----- The other day, I wrote this: If you believe like I do that life is all about the idea that we are all works in progress, and that we should always be working toward 'forward' progress, then you'll understand why I believe we should always start with seeking fulfillment. Fulfillment IS enjoying forward progress. When I read Greg's words after I wrote mine, it struck me how we are often the very worst at recognizing the progress we're making in the middle of our work in progress. And how maybe, we often feel unfulfilled in life because we're doing life alone. When we look in a mirror, we often see someone we think is stuck or moving backwards. But when we look into the eyes of our partners or friends or the communities in our life, we're much more likely to see and hear progress. I think I'd amend - or at least add to - what I said the other day. I do believe fulfillment IS enjoying forward progress. But then I'd probably add, forward progress is easier to attain - it's easier to see - when we're doing life with others. Others who see us. See our progress. So tell the people you're doing life with today you see their progress. Don't assume they see it. Because like you - and me - they may be the last to notice it. We're not always great at noticing the progress in our work in progress. I'm better than I've ever been at living in the present. But at this past Saturday's Georgia Jewel - I have to confess - I spent a lot of time in 2020.
Here's a truth about me. No matter how strong I get, when I look to future finish lines in running and in life, I still have a hard time believing I can reach them. I have doubts. So, I frequently have to look to the past for reminders that I have already reached the places I begin to fear I just can't reach. When I began to feel pain Saturday, I reminded myself the pain felt just like last year's pain. A pain I found a way through. When I began to feel nauseous, I reminded myself that nausea felt like last year's nausea. A nausea I found a way through. And when I got to the insurmountable looking Mt. Baker at the finish line, I reminded myself I'd already mounted that insurmountable. And it looked far less insurmountable. I don't know that we often enough acknowledge the true power today's accomplishments will hold in tomorrow's fights. Today's finish lines ARE tomorrow's strength. The things we grind our way through today get catalogued in our memories as fuel for tomorrow's grind. It's like a library in many ways. We're stocking it full of the books we'll want to read to ourselves when times get tough. But here's the thing - a library full of books is useless if we don't go to the library. If we decide to worry and panic about what might happen ahead instead of going to that library to read about the fights we've already won - the library of our past is useless. There's a reason we do tough things. For me, it's not to run around the world saying: look at me - I can do tough things. No - it's so when the inevitable next tough thing comes up in my life I can say to ME: dude, you are the master of tough things. For me, God is my source of my strength in tough times. Looking to my past is always a reminder that he has always been there. Looking at what God has already done in my life is always a greater source of faith for me than looking to an invisible future - a place where I can begin to wonder - will he be there. Whatever your source of strength is today, and whatever that strength gets you through today, remember it. Store it away. Because tomorrow you'll be tempted to worry about the future. There's no strength there. There's is no faith up ahead. So don't go there. Turn around and go visit the library you created in your mind. Go read the memories that you've already created, memories that remind you that you've already done what you fear you'll never be able to do. Don't worry about what might happen. Go find strength in what already has. 9/21/2021 0 Comments seeking fun is overratedI was talking with my friend Greg yesterday about his first 50-mile race at the Georgia Jewel this weekend. He killed it - way to go man!! But in our conversation, we got to talking about running and its connection to fun. I told him, "I don't think I've ever said that was fun" after a run.
I'm sure it's true, because running has never been fun to me. I went on to tell him that even though it's not fun, running IS fulfilling to me. And I told him further, I think sometimes we underappreciate the value of living a fulfilled life. We do that, I think, because we spend too much time chasing fun. After our conversation, I looked up those two words. Fun: enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure Fulfilled: satisfied or happy because of fully developing one's abilities or character I read those definitions and decided that fun happens when who we are experiences something enjoyable. Fullfillment comes when who we are becomes someone we enjoy being around more. When I was on the Georgia Jewel course for ten hours Saturday, there were very few enjoyable moments. But on the flipside, at any given moment on that course, I would have told you I was feeling fulfilled. When I go back to the Georgia Jewel, it will be because I crave fulfillment far more than I do fun. I think it's possible to live an enjoyable life without ever feeling fulfilled. I think it's impossible to live a fulfilled life without enjoying it. I don't think it's an either or deal. But I do think it is important which we seek first and most. If you believe like I do that life is all about the idea that we are all works in progress, and that we should always be working toward 'forward' progress, then you'll understand why I believe we should always start with seeking fulfillment. Fulfillment IS enjoying forward progress. I do believe seeking fun will always be a greater risk for derailing forward progress than seeking fulfillment is. I hope we all have plenty of opportunities in life to say 'yes' when we're asked if we are having fun. But more than that, I hope we have many more opportunities to say 'yes' when we ask ourselves if this is making me a better person. Enjoyment is often fleeting. Becoming a better person is often forever. And really, there is something pretty fun sounding about that. hBefore I stepped foot on the Pinhoti trail Saturday, I knew it was going to be a rough day. Because there's one thing that can derail my day quick. It's called dew point.
When the dew point is nearing 70 - which it was and was forecast to stay at or above all day Saturday - I know I'm going to sweat more than I can keep up with. It's a well proven struggle for me. One I have not mastered. By mile 4, after the first big mountain climb, I'd already lost more than I knew I could begin to replenish. I knew the day was suddenly about survival. Jewel has always been about survival for me, but the feeling usually comes much later in the race. When I came to this race last year, it was on the heels of a life turned upside down in many ways. It was a life spinning. Lost. When I finished the Georgia Jewel last year, I took it as a message that no matter how hard things are going to get on the road ahead - I'm going to make it. The Georgia Jewel this year, well I leaned on the biggest lesson I've learned the last year when it comes to making it. And that is: sometimes we just need to pause. There were many times throughout the day Saturday you could find me leaning against a tree. Letting my heart rate settle. Keith giving Keith a pep talk about what it would feel like to cross that Jewel finish line again. Because that IS what it was all about at this point - just finish. I felt no shame leaning against those trees. I felt no rush to interrupt those pauses. Because this past year I've come to know there is nothing more important than the pauses in my life. The pauses where I say I won't let this emotion take over me. The pauses where I say, God, I'm all ears. God, I'm all yours. The pauses where I remind myself I'm strong enough to keep going. I've learned this past year strength isn't always in the pushing through, it's often in the knowing when to give yourself a minute. My friend Celia met me and helped me navigate the final two miles of this race. We've spent a fair amount of trail time together this year as I've supported her and Meg's AT Adventure project. Hanging with her made the final two miles go quicker. But it was the final quarter of a mile where Celia helped save the day. The final climb NOT affectionately known as Mt. Baker defines the last quarter of a mile. It's the steepest ascent of the day. It may be only tenths of a mile up - but it is straight up. The last half of the day, every climb I met left me feeling nauseous. That's why I'd been dreading this climb the final few hours. More than worrying about my legs, I was wondering how I'd climb that mountain without vomiting the whole way up it. That worry was compounded by me knowing there was little in me to actually throw up. The worry proved real. I wasn't far up before I was dizzy and feeling like my entire insides were about to become my outsides, spilling any remaining strength I had on the mountain I needed that very strength for. So I sat down. I just plopped my butt down on the ground and stared down the mountain. I know Celia had to be thinking 'what is he doing.' But her face didn't show it. Her voice remained encouraging. She did what Celia does; she told me inappropriate jokes - she told me when I'd been sitting long enough. So I got up. Celia told me to take 10 steps and rest. I took 5 and sat back down. She looked a little frustrated, but she didn't treat me with frustration. Maybe that was her own version of pause.... And that's how it went the rest of the way up that mountain. Climb. Sit. Climb. Sit. But really, that mountain, that final climb, that defined my past year. Climb. Sit. Climb. Sit. My buddy Cliff said, "you've had some pretty tough days, especially in Georgia. And you're still around." And he is right. I am still around. And it's because I've come to accept that some things in life you don't just keep climbing through. Sometimes you have to pause. Reflect and breathe and pray and remind yourself you're not just capable of the climb, but you're worth it. While I was sitting, Celia reminded me I was worth it. Many of you reading this, your encouragement all day long, well your words were all coming through Celia in that moment. While I sat. While I was being reminded to keep climbing. And I did. So thank you all. Very much. I think I did it so I could come here today and tell you that YOU are worth it. You are worth what waits for you at the end of the climb. But you don't have to keep climbing non-stop. Don't be afraid to stop. To pause. Because sometimes you just need a minute. And oh are you ever worth taking that minute. So this week take it. Take your minute and remind yourself that you're still around. Pause and remind yourself that you aren't going anywhere but up! |
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
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