Anything Goes

DEEPER FAMILY :: noel.

"How will this be, since I am a virgin?"

“So Dad, uhh... if Mary was a virgin, you know, that means she never, umm, had s-e-x, how did she get pregnant?  I don’t get that.  How can that even happen?  Don’t you have to kinda have s-e-x to get pregnant?”

What confounded my little eight year old daughter is the same thought that alludes each of us and all human minds before and beyond: incarnation.

God, with us.

Christ for us, right there with us, invading sin diseased hearts in plain mystery.  Confounding and concluding, noel, an invitation to end and begin again forevermore.

My answer pointed all explicable responsibility back to the story itself.

“Well, it says that God just made it happen.  He created her body, just like yours, and if He could create her, God could obviously just make her conceive a child.  He did.”

And the angel answered her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God.  And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren.  For nothing will be impossible with God."  And Mary said, "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word." And the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:35-38)

“Okay. That makes sense,” as her eight year old head returned back to her pillow satisfied.

(Really?)

 

CONTINUE READING AT DEEPER FAMILY

dreams are written.

“Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead." Louisa May Alcott

:::::::

No dream haunting aspiration is a guarantee. Its reality is shaped. In the earning does the dream fade into reality.

And dreams are not pixie dust and floating fairies but days we bleed into existing because of effort, not necessarily perfected ...given.  We give of ourselves today to the future tomorrow and dreams transcend the sky, no longer too big and out of our grounded reach.

Discipline is the measure of dreams materialized.

...words drawn onto pages ...canvas stroked with brush ...hours in pursuit of solution

Some dream dreams that they don't currently belong in. The day and the dream must be pulled, merged together.  Discipline is the pulling.

Let’s be honest, discipline doesn’t naturally find us.  Or better stated, we don’t easily or naturally take to discipline.  But desire, that is an intrinsic emotion threaded into our heart and humanity.  The problem with desire in not having it, but having only it.  Desire shows you the way and points to identify the dream.  Discipline is the vehicle that actually gets you to where you want to go.  Desire without discipline is a mirage clearly visible to the eye but vanishing in the distant landscape.

Dreams unreachable, unreached for.

Just as I believe that everyone has a story (worth telling and needing to be told), I also believe that everyone has a dream waiting to be claimed and conquered.

That dream could be anything: raise a family, race a car, find a cure, write books, start a business, climb a mountain, find love, travel the world, lead a nation or father a son. Whatever it is, it is yours and as personal as you are to the world.

And the world needs you to live your dreams.

Why?  ...because there are too many people half alive floating through life pushed by desire unbridled by discipline.

Discipline is by far the greatest challenge on a daily basis in my life.

...so I write words even when they’re not there capturing a little more each day the dream still too big to talk about seriously at times to friends who ask, “How’s your book coming along?”

:::::::

I’m not writing a book.  I am writing a dream.

:::::::

inspiration

in the way she should go.

“You must earn the right to quit.” And with those words floating wisely across the room finding only a lonely stare in my daughter’s young eyes, I returned to the corner of the room and the lotus position from which I came.

Another parenting stroke of genius gently leading my daughter from a place of despair and desolation to perspective as the ocean deep and endless sky sprawl.  One day she’ll look back with forever adoration thanking God for gracing her life with such magnificence.

That’s what it looked like seconds after I spoke a Confucian smoke screen hung with ornate words that impressed only me.  It was one of those lines spoken valued so good that repetition was a must for certainty that the hearer surely missed the glory.

She just sat there unaffected by my words, despite repetition and rephrasing, overwhelmed with emotion and armed with countless reasons to quit.  I miss the mark in my parenting relationship with my daughters.  It happens quite often.

I say the wrong things and do the wrong things every day, but I am convinced that perfection in parenting is a misdirected illusion cutting the legs out from under many parents sinking in mistakes.

:::::::

My oldest is growing into her own faster than I can count days.  Before I know it and much sooner than I care to even entertain at the moment, the day will come when she hugs my neck in a hurry on her way out the door to cut her own path in life.

Already behind us are those days when I carried her and ruled righteously in her life with a firm and unquestioned ‘yes’ or ‘no’.  Life was simple.  That was then.

Now and in the days ahead, she is beginning to (and will continue to) push boundaries, question my judgement and reasoning and stretch out the legs strengthening beneath her.  This is an important formative process that must happen, but also must be shaped by the parent.

“Train up a child in the way (s)he should go; even when (s)he is old (s)he will not depart from it.”  - Proverbs 22:6

And hear me clearly when I say that this, her stretching, pushing, objecting, protesting, is all good.

:::::::

Our conversation was more than simply my words being spoken to her, or at her.  A milestone now sets behind us marking her maturing.

You see, training your child to go at life the right way happens in the smallest of opportunities.  This particular opportunity came in the form of a conversation about giving up because of rejection and difficulty.

Elizabeth has been a dancer for over 5 years now.  She’s learned the basics in several different forms of dancing as she’s been a part of two different dance schools.  Dancing is simply a regular part of her identity as a young girl.  As the new session began, Elizabeth chose to enroll in an advanced ballet class, one that would surely push her ability beyond anything that she’s aspired to accomplish as of yet.  After the first class, I could tell she was frustrated and sinking into a bad attitude.  Then her new teacher suggested she move to a more basic ballet class where she could master base techniques.

Suddenly in her own mind, Elizabeth couldn’t dance.  She wouldn’t.

Vanished were the years of dance behind her.  The recitals, the classes and all accomplished, gone lost in her perceived rejection and difficulty.

In the grand scheme of circumstance and reality, her difficulty seems minute and insignificant.  That was my initial evaluation of it, but I undervalued a great struggle for her; a tension between do and don’t, try and quit, win and lose, significance and perseverance.

She made a handwritten list detailing no less than ten reasons why she would quit dance.  With that list written in the little handwriting that I helped teach, she had my attention.

She was shrinking, giving up without giving greater effort in heavier circumstance.

:::::::

“If you quit now, what will you be?”

...silence, but her eyes said everything.

With a hushed voice she nearly whispered, “A quitter.”

:::::::

As a parent, I never want my kids to feel forced to do anything that they do not want to do.  If she really wants to quit dancing and move onto other activities, she’s free to do so, but she has to earn the right to make a mature decision, to quit.

For the sake of her future standing in wait for her, I made her commit to a mature decision.  She would have to commit to three more weeks of her new ballet class, trying hard, giving full effort and having a positive attitude.  Then once she completed three weeks, we would revisit the discussion.

As kids grow, so must parenting techniques and relationship.  The mistake I observe in parenting is to try to parent the same way as kids grow older and face more mature situations.

We prayed simple words and committed to simple action.  Packed into the cryptic statement that I began our conversation with bathed in her tears, was truth far simpler and greater than I originally intended.  She understood that she couldn’t just quit because a habit would be given room to grow and that life required perseverance through difficulty.

I’m convinced that a good portion of any parenting success with me is due to a sort of subconsciously driven dumb luck pulling wisdom and experience from my past into their present.

After I picked her up from her new class, she smiled almost slyly like she learned a new secret, and told me that she loves her new ballet class.

Gone were the worries that convinced her she should quit.

starve the monkey.

we like our problems. we say we don’t, but we do.  the back and forth, the need for things to be set aright, we like it.  things needed to be fixed in our lives set as seeds promising harvest, the hope and whisper of life better, easier.  more than our problems, we adore their solutions.  the fix.

on some weird level that makes much more sense than we’d like to think in times when life is thinnest, we like having problems.

you know the friend who is so easily, almost readily, found by problems.  the coworker who takes issue with every issue everyday.  the hurt neighbor who hurts so defaultly.

my heart that only wants to give up while the game is still going on all around, halftime still in the approaching future.

we feed them.  ...the problem. the issue. the burden.

we live and were raised in a culture and context hell bent on helping itself with pills and smiles, drinks and relationships and words and books rehashing strategy for every possible wrong that could ever possibly exist in our lives.  people who need healing from everything behind, cultured to being better ahead and close to our problems lingering now and always.

we feed them.  ...the monkey on our back.

our fed monkeys own our focus and distract us from what really matters.

we’re firestompers running around putting out tiny fires burning instead of firestarters burning clean from all clinging to us. we’re fighters of every little creaking problem and thing that goes bump in the night, chasing shadows, instead of fighters fighting for all the promise that lies in the day ahead and all that really matters.

...the couple reading books about how to make their marriage better while it all just keeps falling apart  ...the leader who always has an answer for everyone else but his own crumbling life

we miss the mark because our hearts really belong to our problems and their fixing.

starve the monkey that rests so heavily and regular on your back.  focus on life and living it each day.  be okay with not being totally ok while you reclaim your life, your focus and determined intent.

your problems will always be there, but that day won’t be.  everyday lived under the primary arch of your problems is another day spent feeding the monkey on your back.  he’ll never go away as long as your feeding him (it).

those problems holding on and being held need to be killed off, starved of your full attention and forgotten, though they don’t give up.

starve the monkey.

[read :: Hebrews 12:1; Psalm 55:22]

in dreams.

Years settle deep. Lines carved within the years weaning, faded into the work resembling him. Days push back. Bones creak at the sound of dreams demanding.:::::::::::

In regard to dreams (i.e., life’s ambition), there is a foretelling difference between those who wield their dreams, owning and shaping them perfectly and others who are slaves to their dreams, owned by them.

::slave Dream, ambition, goal, reach and the pursuit of, owns the whole, the man.  Happiness and value are found in the work and accomplishment.

::owner The man remains a man apart from the dream.

Each man wants to make a difference, find significance and give cause to their existence.  No one aspires to exist as a shadow.  We reach because we want.

One day we find it, the dream.  A worthy pursuit deserving of our effort and affections.  One that gives meaning to our days and strength in our steps.  The discovery (and pursuit) of the dream finds us, unlocking more of ourselves than we’ve ever known.  We work longer and harder, tirelessly accomplishing and reaching.  During late nights and earlier mornings a diligence to the dream forges and we are connected to a sense of meaning that touches our soul.

Tirelessly we work and trade time for another step closer to the dream.  We work.  We think.  We rethink.  We obsess ...and craft and tool our dream.

All the while accomplishing more and drawing closer, somewhat.

We immortalize the dream and the dream becomes us.  Our words, our thoughts, our relationships, all owned by our dream.  Somewhere along positions are traded and the dream drives us.  All that we are and hope to become hangs on and is validated by the dream.

The dream is not enemy.

For the past two weeks, I’ve been much busier than usual.  We moved into a new house which required time after my work day and ran late into the evenings.  There are still mountains of boxes to unpack.  After long days, the last thing I wanted to do, or was mentally able to do, was write.  Work on my book halted even though first round editing is now complete.  My blog stagnated and quieted to an activity-less silence.

I felt diminished and guilty, even depressed.  Not a word written.

As a writer, still insecure in the dream and admission of being an actual writer, not writing for two weeks caused all sorts of emotion, most of which pointed back to some derivative of failure.  Thoughts of shelving the book unfinished and abandoning plans of my writing career were constant all because my dream wasn’t being given proper attention.

Here’s the reflective bottom line.  Never should your dream, no matter the brilliance or genius, own you ...or your time ...or your worth.

If your dream owns you, your affections, your motive, your emphasis and all desire, you are slave to it; a thought, an image or a goal, your master.

You must own the dream in every way.

I need time to rest from my pursuit and determine the pace at which I will run after and toward it.

My dream is writing.  Yours may very well be something different.  Whatever it is, it is yours: own it.  Don’t serve it.

 

{{Matthew 6:34, The Message}}