Make Your Life Easier... and Do the Hard Thing

Nobody gives up their dreams easily, especially when it comes to relationships. People can talk all they want about doing the hard thing or the right thing, but when you're in that moment, it is anything but easy. I know, because I've been there too...

Five Years Earlier...

I couldn't stop staring at the picture on the computer desk. Two strangers looked back at me; her blonde hair nestled against his shoulder, his arm rested comfortably around her waist, both with easy, happy smiles on their faces. The faces of two people on the verge of marriage, on the verge of a new lifetime, two people riding the crest of hope and possibility.

I didn't recognize them.

Six years had passed since that photograph, and with all the bumps and scars of a rocky marriage, a previous separation, and the years of putting it all back together over and over again, the time had come. Like Humpty Dumpty, the cracked shells of a once promising and fruitful relationship had long since soured, had fallen off the wall too many times, and it was time to confess the truth. It could not be put together again.

I flipped our picture face down on the desk. I could feel the tremors in my stomach and up into my throat as I waited for her to come home. I watched out the window as the sun began to sink low on the horizon, the orange glow slowly fading into the blue, its final bit of light an almost throbbing horizontal wedge of reds and whites, as if someone had tipped over the lamp in the corner to lend the world one final moment of brightness. I checked my watch. It wouldn't be long now.

It was hard to even contemplate what I was about to do. The separation had been hard enough the first time, but what would happen now? There was no second chance, no Disney ending here. Just the painful reality of a failed adult relationship. Even worse, it violated almost every core belief I'd ever held. I was heading towards an unmarked trail, and I could not be sure about where I would end up.

The door opened softly behind me.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi."

There was a pause, and I flipped our engagement picture back up. She stood in silence behind me for what seemed like a long time.

"I can't do this anymore." I said finally.

"I know. Me either."

I forced myself to stand and we headed into the living room. The sun had faded, the last of its dying light now cast into the sky for a few brief moments before the night would enshroud the world in darkness. We sat beside one another on the couch, and without so much as a word, embraced in a long and heartfelt hug as we cried and wept together. Night had come. The day had ended. And neither one of us knew what was next. All we knew was that it was the right thing to do, that we were slowly tearing each other to pieces, and that life was meant to be more than this. Insults and indignancy would come, especially from the church where we'd both been leaders. It would come from those who inevitably saw themselves as more and better, not only from Christians, but from the world of low self-esteem and unmerciful and un-nuanced thought. It would come from all those who saw the failings of humanity as strangely unmatched with those who believed in a purposeful and loving Creator.

It wasn't the opinions of others that worried me though. What scared me was the unknown, this life I had turned towards. I hadn't planned for my marriage to fail. I hadn't planned for a life in a city outside my hometown. And I hadn't planned for a life outside ministry and the church. And then, perhaps, there was my greatest fear. That somehow this change in relational status would provoke God's wrath, or that, more clearly, I would lose sight of my faith and the One to whom I'd been drawn even as a young boy.

Today...

The past five years have mostly been a journey along an unmarked trail, it's true, and ending my marriage was the hardest thing I've ever done, but time has proven it the right decision. That night, we both made the tough choice, and we are both better for it.

That said, I would never recommend divorce, as much because I understand its pain and its scars as anything else, but sometimes it is the right decision. I believe it saved my life, and the life of a good woman (happily remarried now) from being one of discontent and frustration. However, more and more I see this tendency within the church of carrying forward this notion that divorce is evil... that the institution of marriage is more important than the people in it... that God loves the idea of marriage more than He loves the people within the marriage. My point is that doing the hard thing, doing the right thing, does not always mean that the religious organizations will agree with you. Doing the hard thing is not about acting religious or making religious choices, but making the choices that will allow us to pursue our God given purpose and passions in our life. (And not for our own gain. Not to make ourselves look better, but to better affect the world around us.) Still, if we want to get to that point, we must learn this truth:

If you want to make your life easier, you need to learn to do the hard thing.

Even as I mention this, I'm certain that every one reading this can think of one or two things that they have been avoiding. And I'm not necessarily talking about something as huge as ending a relationship. Sometimes the thing we're avoiding is considerably smaller. Like going to the gym. Or making that phone call to our friend or family member. (Or setting a budget - every time I hear the word 'budget' a little piece of me wants to shrivel up!) Within each day, we will face one or two opportunities to do something difficult, something we do not want to do, EVEN THOUGH IT IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO.

Much of our trouble in this world comes from our unwillingness to do that thing, to have that talk, to end that relationship, to speak to our boss or coworker, to do our homework. Instead, we believe the myth that all things happen for a reason, and proceed to let it walk us down the path of laziness and complaint and bitterness and sorrow. So many people speak as if they are victims in their lives, and it is because they are. They have failed the litmus test every human is given, the one we take each day when that assignment or conversation or person comes across our path.

Will we do the hard thing? Will we make our lives easier and more abundant in the future, by doing what we know to be right? Will we train ourselves to see the world as a place of opportunity, instead of seeking places where we can hide, be they physical like our homes, or metaphysical like booze or work?

To do that however, to do the hard thing in life, we have to learn to love it a bit. We have to teach ourselves that it is in the challenges of life -- when our hearts beat fast, when the unsurety of our future paralyzes our thoughts, when fear is about to cast its final stake -- it is in those moments we need to smile and take a deep breath. It is in those moments, more than any other, when you begin to live, when you throw 'existence' and 'shame' to the side, and when you start to grasp not only who you are, but what the world can be.

I'm not talking about someone who holds an addiction to crisis, who needs to be continually fixing some 'important issue'. For that person, the right thing, the hard thing, will be to let it go, to pass the torch to someone else, and learn how to truly relax.

As the years have passed, I occasionally think about our decision that night, our decision to start over with someone else. Some nights are longer than others, because I have yet to join someone else on their life journey, and the possibility exists that it may not happen again. That said, I have no regrets. I laugh more than I used to laugh, a lot more. And I don't seek to escape as I once did, or run from new ideas. Possibilities and dreams ride within the freedom I now extol, and I have grown to love the challenges that wait around the corner. God has carried me this far, into new relationships with friends and colleagues, and into a much greater understanding of his mercy and grace.

People say many things when it comes to change, but doing the hard thing is never easy. There are days I don't want to workout, days I don't want to write, and times when I simply don't want to talk to people. But as I have learned to push myself, to create a blank spot in my mind so that I stop thinking about the negative possibilities and just leap, I've noticed how much easier it is to navigate life. I've noticed how much the world bends when I am willing to bend it, and what a great impact that can have on people.

My prayer this week is that you will examine your life closely. Take two things that you know you need to do, be they conversations or something else, and do them. Don't dwell on what will happen, just walk. Trust that your feet will guide you, and that God will be there where ever you end up. If you do that, even if the steps you take are small, I can promise you that the very world you live in will begin to change. And while the sun may fade for a while, while its rays may be lost for the evening, it will, as it always does, rise the next morning with new hopes, new dreams, and perhaps, a new life.

-Steve

The Death of Fear

One Life, Many Lifetimes

When I was kid, I wanted to be a hundred things when I grew up. It became a running joke around the house, much of it dependent on the last movie I'd seen or the last book I'd read. When I was eleven, I wanted to be a professional break-dancer, because I'd just seen the movie, "Breakin'". At various times I also wanted to be a professional boxer, professional baseball player, TV commentator, actor, writer, wildlife biologist, radio personality, teacher, or homicide detective. I also wanted to be Indiana Jones, but when I found out he was a professor, I wasn't that interested. Mainly I wanted the whip and the hat. I also wanted to play in the NBA, but I was intuitive enough to know that at 5'6" (until my growth spurt punched me up to 5'9" in Grade 10) with very little athletic ability in the way of jumping or speed, I probably would never be good enough or tall enough.

These days, my dreams haven't changed a whole lot. I still want to be a thousand different things. At thirty-five however, my choices are somewhat limited. For example, I'd be a veteran player in professional baseball, perhaps the most un-athletic of the major sports. Wildlife biologist, well, I'm not sure I have time to go back to school for that one. The same is true for being a homicide detective with a witty repartee and weathered fedora. (On the plus side, Indiana Jones may still be available since Harrison Ford has decided to return to the whip and hat at the age of 87) Sometimes, this gravitational pull towards so many things is not helpful. A number of people my age have already established themselves in one field or another, and I have moments when I wish I wasn't so "spread out", moments when I wish my interests were more limited. It'd be easier, but in the end, it wouldn't be me.

My situation is not uncommon. In our culture today, many of us will hold down four or five positions over our working life. Unlike my parents' generation, who worked many years for the same company, there are very few gold watched being handed out. These days our culture will give us one life; the same as any other generation, because that is all what we humans are given. But it will also give us many lifetimes. And therein lies the rub.

Not everyone is filled with multiple dreams (or such a short attention span) but within all of us lies two or three issues, two or three driving forces or ideals around which our lives coalesce. That is, two or three themes upon which our lives will continually orbit. These themes are the echo of our learning, our childhood, our experiences, our desires, our needs and our hopes, and they manifest themselves consistently, even if we are unaware of what they are. Self-awareness begins when we recognize what these themes are. And once we recognize who we are, we have the ability to mobilize ourselves towards that, which is intrinsic within us. That is, once we know what dance we do best, we know what music to listen for so that the dance matches the music. When that happens, when we have congruency between who we are, and what we are moving towards, we begin to find the contentment that all of us seek.

One life. Many lifetimes.

What fear does, and what makes fear so powerful, is that it tells us that this lifetime, this temporal space of time, be it five months or five years or fifteen years, IS our life. It tells us that if we leave or move from one lifetime to another, even for a minor adjustment such as a job promotion or a change in living quarters, we are in effect dissembling who we are. Fear is a toxic mix of half-truths and bad experiences, locked within a temporal and non-teleogical philosophy (no God, no Ultimate Good). It is, in my estimation, the most insidious of human enemies because it masks itself so easily. It is often difficult to recognize outside the corporal walls of self. (We rarely know when fear is the true motivator behind another's actions, especially when it is well masked within the cores of rationalization and justification).

I mention this because understanding who we are, and moving towards that GRAND goal, is always blocked by one thing. One enemy. And that enemy, is fear. Fear is capable of turning the staunchest defenders of faith and mercy into sword wielding Bible beaters, of turning the most optimistic people into doubters, of arresting the entire lives of a certain individual through one or two reminders of past failures. Like a virus, it spreads both genetically and orally. Many of us act as its carriers without ever realizing it.

And the only way to rid ourselves of it is to understand that so long as we live, we will encounter fear. Every single one of us will at times be afraid. However, it is in those moments, when our hearts beat a little faster, when our stomach clenches, that we must press on and do the thing that fear is telling us NOT to do. (Unless, of course, it's telling you not to walk across a busy four-lane highway with a blindfold on. That's not fear, that's basic intelligence.)

Understand that "Fear" is most vulnerable when it reveals itself physically in us. Every time you take a stand against it -- when you make the call you don't want to make, when you confront the person, when you tell the truth, when you accept the challenge -- your confidence grows. Soon enough you begin to see change in your life, because the things that once stood like roadblocks now look like speed bumps.

One life. Many lifetimes.

The transition from one lifetime to another is sometimes clear. A new job. A break in a long-term relationship. Other times, however, it is more like a long bend in the road instead of a simple fork. Whichever way our life changes doesn't matter, because for those who seek to grow, we will face the same obstacles, the same roadblocks, the same dissidents and proletizers who will work hard to pin us to a single life. They will offer up phrases such as "the real world" or "suck it up" or "that's life" or any other number of word combinations designed to keep you in one square your entire life. It's understandable, because it's easier when everyone knows who we are and what role we're occupying. The goofy uncle. The ultra neat homemaker. The cranky niece. The radical feminist. The crazy dreamer. We label others, and when we do, we label ourselves.

When we label ourselves, we limit ourselves.

One life. Many lifetimes.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be many things. I still do. But whatever I do, I will always be the same man. I will change and I hope to grow, I desperately hope to follow in the footsteps of my Hero and look more like Him. But that doesn't mean I must stay in the same lifetime to echo the life of Jesus. In fact, it probably means that I should be even more open to change -- not only in life, but also in thought and deed -- because what matters isn't the tie or dress or apron I wear at work (my apron is a nice, incandescent green, by the way) but the heart of the life that beats beneath it.

We can dress ourselves up in different clothes or occupations, we can wear the politics of our job or religion so that we look a certain way, but no matter what lifetime we exist in, the life beneath it is the only one that matters. Because that is the life that will touch those around you. That is the life that will make friends and care about others wherever they are. That is the life that will admit its mistakes and humble itself before God and others.

One life. Many lifetimes.

It's easy to lose sight of our purpose in the hectic pace of our society. It's easy to get discouraged by those who seek to pin us down. And it's easy to allow fear to drive us from following the path and passion of what God has called us to. My prayer is that you will begin to live in the present. That no matter where you find yourself, no matter how many changes you go through, no matter how many lifetimes you have lived, that you will not allow fear to stand in your way. But that you will recognize that you have been given one life; a life capable of greatness and humility, of love and honour, and of joy and contentment.

-Steve

How Do I Change my Life?

When I was younger, I was always reading books and watching movies that I thought would help my writing. I wondered what it meant to 'be a writer.' I loved writing, of course, and I pursued it vigorously. I filled my shelves with how-to books, and any film or teaching on writing I inhaled as if in deep need of fresh oxygen. Too often however, their words of wisdom seemed, well, so ordinary, as if I was merely studying to be a plumber or carpenter. They talked about craft, about grammar and plot and theme. While helpful, none of them addressed the magical aspect of writing, this somewhat fantastical idea of writing I'd held in my head for so long. The more I read, the more the dream of writing began to lose its luster.

When the movie Finding Forrester came out, a film about an older novelist who mentors a young aspiring writer, I went to the theatre eager to absorb this new drama, hopeful for a return to the mystical wide-eyed days of my youth. I was sure that this Hollywood film with Sean Connery would surely deliver something to bring back the magical aspects of my dream.

It never happened.

However, it taught me something profound, something that I have re-absorbed many times these past few years.

In one of the key scenes, Connery's older writer gives his young protégé his first advice about writing.

"Writers write."

It is, in so many ways, an inane comment. However, like most young writers, I was so caught up with the idea of writing, that I devoted very little time to the craft itself. I was in love with the idea of the cafe writer, of passing great wisdom, of seeing that wisdom wonderfully extricated in my own ability with the quill. In my mind I could see people sigh and shake their heads in wonder as they nestled into my words. With all my dreaming though, the actual act of sitting down and pounding out work somehow got lost. It took a couple of years before I realized that to be a writer meant one thing first and one thing only.

Writers write.

A very dear friend sent me an email a couple of weeks ago. She commented on my change in life, and my newfound contentment. She asked me what my secret was to letting go and creating my new life. I didn't reply to her email immediately, mainly because I wanted to think about it. The other night, I met a woman who asked me a similar question. How did I change my life? How did I know that it would work in this manner? The more I thought about it, the more I realized the simple truth of the older writer in Finding Forrester... writers write.

To change your life, you simply need to change it.

It sounds like a ridiculous answer, I understand. We are a culture that is forever seeking the 'keys' to everything. We love lists and proposals, and we love it when everything is broken down for us into a simple policy we can apply to out life. Perhaps this is the reason we have turned the deep resonant faith of one who follows Jesus, into a largely ignorant piety that no longer asks any questions. We have become content with the "list". My friend who wrote me is not like this, and hers is a sincere question I often hear echoed when I talk to people. Still, my answer remains the same.

To change your life, you simply need to change it.

Most of us fear change, we fear uncertainty. Some of us believe things will happen eventually, and get stuck in their daily routine. But those who wish to change their life do not wait, but begin the process by doing something differently today that they did not do yesterday. We place a high value on intelligence and social standing in our world, but for those who would change their life, the opportunity is always there. Why? Because most people lack the will to do ANYTHING different. Most of us travel the same path upon which we have been headed since we were seventeen. Any changes in our life are largely incidental.

There is a great myth in Western society that the void in our lives can be filled by increasing the pleasure content. That is, we work hard during the day, and buy a bigger van or house or TV to watch at night to help 'even things out'. Only things never quite work that way, do they? We get stuck in a trap of increasing our income and workload to afford a life of pleasure and sensuality, a dishonest and shallow life we've created to overcome the loss of passion and purpose. We read self-help books and listen to inspiring talks and movies, hopeful for the next list or set of 'keys' that will help us achieve a breakthrough. And yet, the only thing we need to know is this:

Those who wish to change their life, need simply to change it.

We in the West are lucky, as we are so rich as to be able to even consider change. But the message of who we are and who we strive to be is translatable. It is the gospel message. It is not about power and income; it is about passion and purpose, the same passions and purposes that God gives to all His children. Poor or rich, our goal in life is not to follow a list of rules or ideas from some commentator, no matter how encouraging they may seem, but to tune into the echo of our own heart, and the heart of the One who created us, and learn to walk in step with that rhythm.

It is an extraordinary thing to change your life, but it is easy enough to do. One need only take a step in another direction, and with the occasional glance into the heavens and the reassurance of God's love, keep moving towards the thing that beckons us forward. We do not need to fill our lives with the melodramatics of what was or what can never be. Better to walk towards what could be, and go from there. Chances are, so long as you keep moving, you will change your life. And with it, begin to realize some of the dreams you buried so long ago.

-Steve

Will The Change in Seasons Mean Change in Your Life?

The rain sweeps in like a fine mist, and beneath the cool air I can taste the frshness of a long awaited spring. The piles of snow melt like summer glaciers at the end of the driveway and I can't help but sigh a grateful prayer of thanks for the coming wave of spring. It feels like I have been cold all winter, the endless snow storms and huddled walks in my parka, from one cold environment to another, have left me somewhat exhausted. Hopefully those days are gone, and the record snowfall of 2008 is behind us.

It's hard sometimes, for people in say, California or Italy to appreciate the change in seasons, espcially from winter to spring. When the weather is perpetually nice, it's difficult to understand what a simple pleasure it is to walk outside without a coat (and that's assuming you are lucky enough to own one) There is a sense, at least for me, that during the winter the weather exerts a great deal of control over my life. How cold is it? Is it snowing? What about my car? How will I get there? The winter offers nothing but questions for seemingly every proposition. In the spring however, so many of those questions are put back into my hands. Transportation. (I can always walk or ride a bike) What I wear. Safety concerns. There is a sense in spring that I regain some measure of control over my life. Perhaps that is why we tend to find the change in season so exhilirating.

Unfortunately, for most of us it is merely an illusion. Many of us will have the same spring we had last year. Not because we're happy, but because we're so afraid to change. Even the most content, joyous person in the world must occasionally change their life, because the inevitable nature of humanity is dynamic. We can become greedier, more egocentric, more selfish. We can become more lonely, more discouraged. More depressed. Or, we can become more unselfish, more giving, more patient and more merciful. The key here, is that the choice of being static is not up to us.

People often say "You haven't changed at all", but we understand that of course we change, even if we look the same. (Especially for those of us who shave our heads) But HOW have we changed and what part of ourselves are we nurturing towards growth is what matters.

I bump into so many people every day who are eking out a life, existing instead of living. Sure, it was a long winter. And we do need to rest. But we can not rest too long, because when we do, we slowly stop making the choices we need to carve out the life God has planned for us.

That part we have to do ourselves. God walks with us, but we still have to walk.

Here's an idea. Think of one thing you have always wanted to do, and have never done. Something challenging, something that addresses certain fears (e.g. skydiving) or certain goals (e.g. write a column for a newspaper). Resolve yourself to attain that goal by the end of this year, and start by taking baby steps towards it (research, writing, etc...) I think you'll find that every time you address a particularly desirable (or undesirable) challenge you unveil a key aspect of your own personality. This is growth. The more we learn about ourselves, the better suited we will be to put our fears behind us, and to cut the chains from past experiences that do nothing but weigh us down. The other important part of learning who we are is to allow God to examine our hearts, to humble ourselves before the One who created us.

I know there are commentators who discuss spirituality and growth and self-improvement, and who do so in a wonderfully encouraging way. But to focus only on ourselves is to miss the point. It is in this that Jesus matters. Without this constant source of love, and yes, confession of my own frailties and weaknesses, my growth will inevitably become ego-centric. And to grow inward is not to grow at all. Learning to bow my head, and look at the dirt in my own life, and ask God to forgive me (knowing that He does) gives me not only the confidence, but the humility to become the person He longs for me to be.

Spring without a new set of challenges merely indicates a change in the season. But if you're willing, you can make this spring the stepping stone for a whole new life. My prayer is that you'll step out in both confidence and humility towards that which God has for you, and along the way, enjoy the weather.

-Steve

Authour's Note: I just wanted to say thank you for making this past month the most successful in the short 14 month history of this website. I am humbled by your readership, and want you to know how much you give me in return. Thanks so much everyone. Blessings....