Category: Introspect

By day, I write other people’s stories. I consult with startups, small businesses, and enterprise companies about what problem they’re solving in the world, and I help them tell a story that other people can see themselves in — because when people can see themselves in your story, they’re more invested in you.

This is what Jesus sent his followers out in the world to do – to tell the story of how God rescues us, so that no matter what we’ve done to ourselves or others, we can see ourselves in God’s rescue plan.

But sometimes I forget to tell myself this story.

Not too long ago I spent a few days wallowing (shocking!) about what a rotten person I am. I definitely said and did some things that were legitimately rotten, but I soon discovered I was also believing a very dangerous lie.

I believed I would always be rotten, that there was no point trying to NOT be rotten, so I moped and grouched about and snapped at everyone because OBVIOUSLY I’M A ROTTEN PERSON.

Then one night as I as wrote in my journal about the stinking decay of my rottenness, I started to gross myself out with all the whining.

So I opened my Bible (finally!).

I went straight for Romans 3:23 —

…”for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus…”

As a lifelong follower of Jesus, it’s easy for me to let his words fade into just… words. Even though I was tiring of my own despair, I still wasn’t able to see myself in God’s rescue story.

But God’s word is living and active, not stale and obsolete. If I couldn’t see myself in God’s story, I needed to re-tell it so I could:

I made it to this version in three drafts, and the exercise pulled me out of the dark hole I was in.

This experience not only helped me, but it reminded me of how easy it is for Christians to alienate other people with our jargon and pat answers.

Oh, you did that really shitty thing? No worries! You’re justified in Christ!

Yes, it’s Truth, but if it’s so easy to disconnect ourselves from the Truth of the story, how much easier is it for those who don’t even know the story?

I’ve been struggling to find my way back into journaling. Maybe the best thing I can do is practice re-telling the story of God’s rescue plan to myself, my kids, and my friends.

In The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer

warned about the dangers of what he called ‘cheap grace,’ the teaching that stresses only that grace is free, so it doesn’t really matter how we live. The solution, he said, was not to return to legalism, but to focus on how seriously God takes sin and on how he could only save us from it at infinite cost to himself. Understanding this must and will profoundly reshape our lives. We will not be able to live in a selfish, cowardly way. We will stand up for justice and sacrifice for our neighbor. And we won’t mind the cost of following after Christ when we compare it to the price he paid to rescue us.

This paragraph from Tim Keller’s Prodigal God struck me this evening. The way I live in light of christ’s sacrifice is based largely on what it does for me and on what I gain.

I think very little of the actual sacrifice and what it cost to make it.

The logical conclusion of this discrepancy manifests in my complaining spirit, my apathy, and my sense of entitlement, as if Christ owed me this life but came up short on his end of the deal.

Jesus gave me everything I didn’t deserve, and instead of being grateful, I whine like a Gospel trust fund baby.

I see this attitude in one of my kids and spend a lot of energy rolling my eyes because it’s so irritating to watch.

Now that I see it in myself, I’ll need one of you to come over and yank the log out of my eye.

I haven’t given much thought to the idea of setting goals or a theme for the new year. I’m disorganized to start with, but the last couple months have felt a bit chaotic. Instead of living with intentionality, I feel like I’ve been reacting to whatever urgent thing pops up in front of me.

It’s exhausting to feel so out of control all the time, and I haven’t had much mental room for reflection.

And then I read this on the Storyline Blog:

Goals like “lose weight” or “decrease debt” are vague and uninspiring. Goals work much better when they’re set within a narrative context. Frodo would not have gone on his journey unless the fate of Middle Earth depended on it.

It’s like that with us, too. Without a narrative context, we have little motivation to become different people than we are.

Somehow during the overwhelming months of packing, moving, unpacking, settling in, adjusting to new routines, and reacting to the general Stuff of Life, I started doing the next thing without really paying attention to my narrative context.

I miss my narrative context.

This tree is at the turn-around point on my morning walks with Sally. It stands on a grassy knoll overlooking the water, solitary and content.

Occasionally I get associated with being religious. Non-churchy people hear that I’m a churchy person and they say things like, “Oh, so you must be very religious,” or “I’ve never been that religious myself.”

I get their intended meaning. They don’t use the word religion the same way I do, they’re simply differentiating churchy from non-churchy. But hearing someone call me religious still makes me cringe.

To me, “religious” is something institutional, not relational. It’s filled with rules & expectations, not compassion or understanding; hard lines instead of soft edges.

I like Jesus, and Jesus is not religious. He’s relational.

The topic of religion came up at my church, recently, in a passage where all the religious leaders yelled at Jesus for healing someone on the Sabbath. On a day intended for rest from our work, Jesus, the God of the universe who created the sabbath, touched a crippled woman and she was healed.

I’m pretty sure if Louis C. K. were present he would have been all, THAT’S AMAZING! But the religious leaders were outraged. They scolded Jesus and told the people to come back on Thursday if they wanted to get healed.

There’s a lot of religious people in the world – both individuals and groups. When I hear religious people quoted in the media, it makes my teeth hurt. When I see religious comments and articles posted on facebook, I obsess over trying really hard to not obsess about it.

But when I heard my pastor talk about the religious Pharisees, I couldn’t help but see myself in the story.

I felt especially convicted that I’m a religious parent. I make up rules on the fly to suit my own needs, and change them up all the time depending on my mood; I pay more attention to their behavior than the condition of their character; and I’d love it ever so much if they could just know their place.

As a mother, I’m basically the gateway drug to Jesus. My children learn to follow Jesus by following me as I follow Him, so as far as they know, Jesus is in a really crappy mood all day until he gets some wine.

Below is a 20 minute excerpt from the sermon about religion. Or you could watch the 4 minute Louis C. K. clip. They pretty much say the same thing.