Chris.Gould.Is

Category: Writing

  • Where Are The Dads?

    [Author’s Note: This entry was originally published on 8/6/2012 on BlogOfManly.com]

    This week, I have been watching some of the most amazing examples of God’s creation demonstrate their incredible skills in the Olympics. I must confess, this is the first year I have really watched the Olympics with more than a passing interest, largely because my wife loves watching gymnastics. NBC has really done a nice job of making the athletes more human, and I am really enjoying their efforts.

    So here is the scene: NBC is dragging out Phelps’s silver medal (#18) and gold medal (#19). Interspersed with Phelps’s races, the focus shifts to the American women’s gymnastics team stepping up and owning the floor. During the whole production, I find that I am enjoying the images of the parents of the athletes, sharing in their children’s agony and joy. I love the stories of how the athletes came to be where they are, the incredible level of focus, determination, and willingness to sacrifice for a greater good that they all exhibit. I try to put myself in the shoes of those parents, looking at my own children, wondering if I would  have the strength and stomach to support them chasing a dream like the Olympics. There is no question that climbing to that level of competition requires a commitment of time and money for which few have the fortitude.

    Then a commercial break – and the Proctor and Gamble commercial saluting Moms plays again. It is a really good commercial, and fun to watch. I think there are at least four different versions, and all tug at the heart strings. I love the people stories!

    But then I got mad. Really mad.

    Not because Phelps should have taken one more stroke in the 200 fly, but instead glided to the wall and took silver.

    I was reflecting on being a parent of an Olympic athlete, and the imagery of the parents of the athletes. And then it hit me that the parents shown are predominately mothers only. And I began to wonder, where  are the dads?

    For these athletes, this competition is likely the most important event in their life to date! How could any father choose to miss this? I understand that life happens. So maybe the missing dads have a legitimate excuse for not attending. But I guarantee I would move heaven and earth to support my child at any event that was important to them, much less the OLYMPICS.

    Now let me be clear, there were some dads clearly in attendance, so please don’t miss my point here. The message clearly transmitted by the imagery and commercials is that the moms are what count, and seeing a dad in attendance (or by himself) is an anomaly.

    So back to the P&G commercial. Mothers are critical in the lives of their children, there is no question. But fathers are critical too, and in some circles considered to have a larger impact than the mother in the life of a child. I’m not bashing single mothers – they are incredible women to take on the responsibility all by themselves. But I am mad that P&G isn’t airing an analogous commercial for dads. Fathers teach their children to trust, how to control their strength, how to live with integrity, and what to expect from their own marriages, among other things.

    Chewing on all of this, I begin to think about the impact that a missing dad might have on a budding athlete. How many of these athletes might be at the Olympics because they are driven for a measure of love and acceptance that they never received from their dads? How many might be trying to prove to their missing dad that they have value and worth? That they are capable and deserving of love and affection? Is it possible that for some of these athletes, the Olympics is a demonstration of the lengths they will go to in order to find respect and acceptance? To forsake everything for a chance to stand atop a podium and be awarded a medal, for all the world to see? To be loved and adored by the entire world? What will it benefit an athlete to gain the whole world, if he loses his soul?

    My heart breaks for any athlete, and in fact any human being, who feels they must sacrifice themselves on the altar of the world to try and find the love, affection, and acceptance that their own dad should have given them. Because let’s be honest, every human had a father at some point.

    If you are in the unfair position of not having felt the love, affection, acceptance, and respect from your father, take heart! There is a Father who wants to provide all of that and more to you! He *already* loves, affirms, accepts, and respects you, right where you are! There is a reason God has man refer to him as “Father” – because that is the role He can fill in your life. Cry out to God and let Him fill you up!

    If you are a father, you must accept responsibility for your influence on their lives! You get the choice whether to fill them with love, respect, affirmation, courage, strength, and confidence – or not. Whether or not you had any desire to be a father, God has called you into this role, so you must man up, put on your big boy pants, and make the right choice. Being a father is a privilege and a blessing!

     

  • When Am I A Man?

    [Author’s Note: This entry was originally published on 8/14/2012 on BlogOfManly.com]

    One of the biggest questions I have wrestled with since being married and becoming a father, has been the question of when I became I man. Or more specifically, what proof did I have of my manhood. I don’t know about you, but I never had any sort of manhood rite-of-passage.

    Today, I have no doubts that I am a man. When I look in the mirror, I sometimes see the little boy I was decades ago. But even as much as a year or two ago, I still was not sure that I was actually a man. So what did I finally learn was the turning point from boy to man?

    I had the fortune early in my career to be selected for and graduate from the leadership development program of a very well known company. After a year in the program, I was talking to “the Don” about how rigorous the selection process was, and he explained to me then that the biggest hurdle to someone being selected was their own courage to apply. It took me years to realize the truth in his statement.

    So what does making a choice have to do with being a man? After all, a male becomes a man when he first has sex, right? Or has his first beer? First gets drunk and throws up? Makes $100k a year? Grows his first short and curlies? Has a title that includes “president”? Fathers a child? Kills another human? Isn’t that the message we men are presented by society? And let’s not forget that a real man has no friends, emotions, or weaknesses!

    As your heart is likely screaming, none of that is what it really means to be a man! And in fact, there is no one act past which any male becomes a man. No milestone, no off-ramp from boyhood, no specific turning point. At least not an externally observable one.

    See, a boy becomes a man when he *chooses* to begin taking responsibility for himself, his actions, those for which he has responsibility, and anyone else within his sphere of influence, and begins to make his decisions based on what is best for others over himself. He answers the call of responsibility, maturity, and selflessness. He begins to recognize his own strengths and weaknesses, and starts to think in terms of finding others to help cover his weaknesses, so that he doesn’t leave those he loves exposed. He does whatever is necessary to provide and protect those in his responsibility.

    As Dr. Robert Lewis says in the Quest for Authentic Manhood, an authentic man accepts responsibility, rejects passivity, leads courageously, and expects God’s greater rewards.

    Does that definition resonate in your heart? My heart rang like a gong when I first heard that!

    In my walk, as I finally began to understand this truth, I had to take a hard look at my own life, the decisions I was making, and the priorities that were guiding my decisions. And I came up woefully short. We are all the sum of our decisions, and I wasn’t adding up to much.

    Are you asking yourself whether any man today lives up to that standard? The answer, of course, is no. Only one man *ever* lived up to that standard – Jesus Christ.

    But there are large numbers of males since who have lived trying to reach the destination of authentic manhood, myself included. For a present-day example, this quote is taken from a statement from Randy Blythe,  front man for the band Lamb of God, who was in prison in the Czech Republic on charges related to the death of a fan at a concert (emphasis mine):

    If it is deemed necessary for me to do so, I WILL return to Prague to stand trial. While I maintain my innocence 100%, and will do so steadfastly, I will NOT hide in the United States, safe from extradition and possible prosecution. As I write this, the family of a fan of my band suffers through the indescribably tragic loss of their child. They have to deal with constantly varying media reports about the circumstances surrounding his death. I am charged with maliciously causing severe bodily harm to this young man, resulting in his death. While I consider the charge leveled against me ludicrous and without qualification, my opinion makes no difference in this matter. The charge exists, and for the family of this young man, questions remain. The worst possible pain remains. It is fairly common knowledge amongst fans of my band that I once lost a child as well. I, unfortunately, am intimately familiar with what their pain is like. Therefore, I know all too well that in their time of grief, this family needs and deserves some real answers, not a media explosion followed by the accused killer of their son hiding like a coward thousands of miles away while they suffer. I am a man. I was raised to face my problems head on, not run from them like a petulant child. I hope that justice is done, and the family of Daniel N. will receive the closure they undoubtably need to facilitate healing. I feel VERY STRONGLY that as an adult, it would be both irresponsible and immoral for me not to return to Prague if I am summoned. This is not about bail money. This is about a young man who lost his life. I will act with honor, and I will fight to clear my good name in this matter. Thank you for reading this, and I wish you all peace.

    Please take the time to read his entire statement here.

    Men, boys, and those who are unsure where they stand, the call to manhood is distinct and inescapable in your heart. Stand up and decide that you want to be a man starting today. God gave you a man’s body, but only you can strive to lay claim to a man’s heart.

    The Lord is with you, O valiant warrior. – Judges 6:12

     

  • But Why?

    [Author’s Note: This entry was originally published on 8/27/2012 on BlogOfManly.com]

    My daughter is a beautiful little girl. Sadly, she has an ugly habit that drives my wife, Maria, and I to near tears at times. No amount of admonishment or threat of punishment stems the flow of this vile behavior, especially when she is tired or in a mood. At times, it is enough to make me scream!

    So what is this terrible habit that a 3 and a half year old has that could possibly be so skull-crushing? Why, she insists on asking “why?”

    Let’s be very clear, she isn’t asking because she really wants to understand better. For instance, yesterday, Olivia and I were preparing to go to the store for groceries. Her video had finished and I was finishing up balancing our checkbook. She asks me to start another video, to which I respond “No, we are about to leave for the store.” Her predictable response? “But wwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyy!?!”

    Although I don’t think my daughter has a hearing problem, I am certain she has a listening problem. I’m also pretty sure she isn’t really curious as to my rationale for not starting another video. Truth be told, if she didn’t throw such a fit when we have to stop a video in the middle, I WOULD start another.

    It is a sad irony to me that Maria and I once opined that Olivia seemed late in starting the “why” phase, and actually worried about it!

    Let me pause and say that Olivia is a wonderful little girl. Frighteningly smart, but very courteous, sweet, and loving. She is very rules oriented, and, for the most part, easy to parent. And I adore her. This rant is starting to sound like she is a brat, but alas, she is simply 3 and a half years old. If you have or have had a 3 and a half year old, you know exactly what I am talking about.

    So this morning, at 4:36 am, my son screams. He apparently likes to do this between 3:00 and 5:00 am virtually every day. I’m not sure why, because if I was, I WOULD HAVE ALREADY FIXED IT. But let me just say how much Maria and I enjoy this particular alarm with no snooze button.

    Maria and I get out of bed, and I agree to change his diaper while she will feed and get him back to sleep – the far more daunting task, to be sure. I change his diaper, and return to bed, but I am loathe to go back to sleep for fear she will need something and I won’t hear her. Since this painfully early alarm has been happening for a while, our process has evolved such that neither sleeps until the boy does, in case the other needs help.

    So I say a quick prayer, telling God that I know He is in control and that this serves His purposes, but could He please help me understand why we are continuing to fight this battle with Samuel? I begin reading on my phone, first email, then Facebook, then a daily devotional, ooh a new email, and then I open up iBooks. I recently read Francis Chan’sForgotten God, which I loved. So I started to read Chan’s book,  Crazy Love. In the middle of the first chapter, God thumps my gourd again.

    Could it be your arrogance that makes you think God owes you an explanation? – Francis Chan, Crazy Love, Chapter 1

    Yeah. Snap.

    And God kindly brought to mind my frustration earlier with Olivia asking why I wouldn’t turn on another video. I don’t know why we are still fighting with Samuel to sleep through the night, despite his being 10 and a half months old. And I know that it is ok for me to ask God why. But it is awfully arrogant to expect Him to explain it to me. And for me to pout because God won’t give me my way.

    When Olivia asks me why, I will generally try to explain it to her. But many times I marvel at how to summarize all I have learned about the world, and all that I believe about how to manage her health and development, in a manner that her 3 and a half year old mind can possible comprehend. But I can only imagine it is the same for our God – He created the entire universe, including our very bodies! He is timeless and unchanging. How can He possibly simplify what He knows and why He is allowing something to happen to someone who has only been alive and aware for 31 years?

    God knows there are times I get so angry at what is happening, like Samuel not sleeping, and, in these instances, I demand answers from God. Just as I know Olivia gets mad and frustrated when she doesn’t get her way. But God’s thoughts are not my thoughts, and His mind is not knowable by my mind. I know God knows and wants what is best for me, as I hope Olivia has the same trust in Maria and I. But clearly I forget or ignore that trust in times of trial.

    So where are you in the level of trust you place in your Creator? Do you count it all joy when you face trials? Do you take comfort in knowing that the same God who created and controls everything loves you enough to have His own Son killed in order to be able to reach you? Yes, God is either permitting or causing your current circumstances. But He is only choosing for you what you would choose, if you only know what He knows.

  • Margin – The Space Between What I Have and What I Do

    Margin – The Space Between What I Have and What I Do

    Bonnie challenged me, in our final session of 2015, to pick a word or words to focus on for 2016. Immediately I knew my word was “margin”. It *better* be, I’m writing a book based on the whole idea!

    Many people are familiar with the idea of margin in the financial world, as the difference between the price of a good to the customer, and the cost of the raw materials of the good. However, I extend that definition to be the space between the effort I am currently expending and how much effort I am capable of expending. Said another way, I define margin as the difference between how much work I *can* do, and how much work I’m currently doing.

    Dictionary.com defines margin several ways, but the one that resonates with my intent is “2. an amount allowed or available beyond what is actually necessary.”

    So why is “margin” my word for 2016? Because I SUCK at margin. I run at full-throttle, all the time. I have an over developed sense of duty and responsibility. Unless I am mindful about it, I simply can’t not work. Even as I write this, I needed Maria to encourage me to sit down and write instead of work on our mortgage refinance paperwork. (Brief aside, Quicken Loans is AMAZING).

    Margin, in my world, looks like me doing more of what I enjoy, like writing. Margin contains less guilt about what I *should* be doing, and more freedom to do what I want to do. Margin allows me to live in the now, rather than always looking well into the future. Going back to the Dictionary.com definition, margin for me, is stopping at what is necessary, and at least being mindful of how I spend myself above that.

    Does margin mean I do less work? Not necessarily, and certainly not for my employer. I will still be faithful with my time to my employer. No, I may still do the same amount of work at times, but not all the time. However, at my core, I’m a workaholic, because I’m an approval-aholic, so the battle is always to do less, not whether to do enough.

    The purpose of margin is to allow me to have some mental, emotional, and physical space such that I can rest. We, as humans, are built to rest. Except me, or so I tell myself. Ever tell yourself that lie? I’ll rest when I’m dead! Right. Except that buying into that fallacy means you’ll likely die sooner!

    I also don’t consider margin to be simply a physical effort construct – instead, I believe you can, and should, live with margin physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and financially. I don’t pretend to know what it looks like to live with margin in all of those areas, but I can assure you that I’ll share it with you as I find it.

    Margin is my word for 2016, because, more than anything, my family needs it. Not because my family needs more of my time – instead, my family needs more of me present when I do give them my time. One of the hardest lessons for me to accept, is that I have more to give my family, when I do LESS. And likely the same is true for you!

    Where can you do less, so that you can make space for yourself?

  • Marriage 101: Communication

    [Author’s Note: This entry was originally published on 10/1/2012 on BlogOfManly.com]

     

    Men, listen close and listen well. We are, as a group, terrible listeners. And since listening is at least half of successfully communicating, we men are terrible communicators.

    I don’t know you, but I’m willing to bet that you believe you do a pretty decent job of listening to your wife. And you may even be right. Regardless, I challenge you to ask her, point blank, if she *feels* like you do a good job of listening to her. And when she likely says “no” or gives a non-committal answer, do not attempt to defend yourself, but simply take note.

    I am a firm believer that all of the issues that arise and all of the benefits to be gleaned from marriage stem from successful communication. I weathered some painful times with my wife to learn what I understand now about communication with my wife, and I hope to be able to save you from similar fights. So here are some critical things you *have* to understand about communicating with your wife.

    First and foremost, you have to talk to her. Generally speaking, women prefer to talk and men prefer to do. But talking is the fundamental form of communication, and your willingness to talk to your wife speaks volumes to her about how much you care about her.

    You may even be thinking that you don’t like to talk all that much. Tough. Put on your big boy panties and get on with it. There is nothing more critical to determine the success of your marriage. And you *do* want to have a successful, marriage, right? Keep in mind, there are two benefits to talking to your wife regularly and at length: she feels like your priority, and you learn more about her.

    Now, what should you talk about? EVERYTHING. Big stuff: finances, children, careers, faith, goals, sex, and other life altering topics. Small stuff: your day, her day, TV, movies, books, and other mundane topics. Make a point of learning more about what she is interested in, so that you can actually carry on a conversation, not simply say “yeah” while day dreaming.

    As you and your wife are speaking, you must take care to communicate not just facts, but emotions. Yes, emotions. Yes, you have them. And yes, even you can learn to communicate them.

    If your heart’s desire is a strong, intimate relationship with your wife (AND IT IS), then you must accept the fact of your emotions, and begin to recognize and share them with her. I didn’t like it at first either, and I am still to this day learning to name my emotions, but I am regularly amazed at how much Maria responds when I talk about how I feel in a given situation.

    Warning: the tongue has the power of life and death. HOW you talk to and about your wife is even MORE critical than WHETHER you talk to her! You must strive to make sure every word that comes out of your mouth to or about your wife is grounded in love. Despite the war theme we have chosen for this series of articles, your wife is NEVER the enemy. She is always your buddy, partner, friend, companion, and champion. You must NEVER strive to hurt her, tear her down, or insult her. A good wife is a blessing from God Himself, and I doubt seriously that you’d like to pick a fight with Him. And no, the “good” descriptor there is not a loophole! Your wife *is* a good wife – she married you!

    In fact, the more positively you think of your wife and view your wife, the more easily speaking to and of her from love will become. Make the conscious choice to compliment your wife regularly on not only her looks, but the things she does. I try to make a point of letting Maria know that she is not only beautiful, but that she is an excellent wife, mother, child of God, woman, and friend. And I find that the more I tell her those things, the more I see them and realize the truth of them. Tell your wife regularly how you feel about her – not just that you love her, but that you adore her, are captivated by her, are thankful she is your wife, that you need and want her, and that you are a better man for having her in your life. Even if you aren’t sure that you feel all of those things towards her, the amazing thing about the spoken word is that if you start saying them, you will soon realize that you do feel that way!

    Yes, there are many forms of communication aside from talking. You can do things to lighten her load. You can buy her gifts. You can reach out and build relationships with her family. But none holds a candle to the power of the spoken word, so master it FIRST – THEN make it your mission to learn the other ways to ensure she feels loved.

    Finally, decide today to be a life-long student of your wife. You want to be of a mindset that there is always more to learn about her, and that you want to learn it all. The more active a position you take in this, the more amazing the rewards will be!

    Men, marriage is no stroll through the park, but the benefits of a solid, supportive, loving marriage are unparalleled in human relationships. Take this wisdom, make learning everything there is to know about your wife your life’s mission, and expect amazing dividends in your marriage!

  • The Journey To Manhood

    [Author’s Note: This entry was originally published on 7/9/2012 on BlogOfManly.com]

    [Blog of Manly is happy to introduce Chris. We’ll let him tell his own story, but we wanted to express our excitement to have him on board. We put Chris through the ringer! We asked a lot of questions and offered a lot of feedback. He handled the process like a man of integrity and courage. We think you’re going to enjoy getting to know him too.]

     

    When my beautiful wife, Maria, and I first got married a little over six years ago, I had problems. Problems such as believing that climbing the corporate ladder would fulfill me; an insatiable drive to be perfect fueled by a fear of ever being wrong; no idea what it meant to be a man, a husband, or the leader of a household; no relationship with God of any sort; and perhaps most insidiously, a serious addiction to pornography.

    I had (have!) a beautiful wife, a good, upwardly mobile job, a good education, a strong work ethic, and was killing it in the success category. I was sensitive and loving, not markedly male in the caveman sense, supportive, nurturing, and feminine. I could cook, clean, iron, and do laundry. In other words, I was the stereotypical man as defined by our society. But, I honestly questioned whether I was actually a man.

    I thought I was happy.

    Here is the dark reality: Maria did not feel secure, because I was not leading our household; our sex life was unsatisfying because I was addicted to porn; and in general, my life was happy at times, but joyless.  We put on a good show, but we were both miserable and hurting. Neither of our needs were being met, and we were clueless as to how to change our marriage. We were committed to each other, but we both knew our marriage was hurting.

    We had planned when we got married to have children, once we had reached a certain level of financial stability. Certainly, since our marriage was hurting, having a child would make it better! So after we had been married a little over 2 years, Maria got pregnant.

    Thankfully, during Maria’s 7th month of pregnancy, God rocked my world.

    Let me back up some, and give you some of my back-story.

    See, I had been raised in the church – my dad was a music minister at the local church for a dozen or so years of my life. I gave my life to Jesus and was baptized when I was 8. But, due to some drama in that church around the time I was 16, we stopped going to church entirely. At 16, I wasn’t real inclined to get up early on Sundays anyway, so I wasn’t particularly broken up. Fast forward to college, and I majored in engineering, where things are so well understood and cut and dried that there is no room for God – of course, that is a fallacy. But, at the time I was not looking to find God in my world. For approximately eleven years, I had avoided God.

    Now, back to our story previously in progress.

    Here are some truths about having a daughter that all men must recognize, regardless of whether they have a faith in God. Men, your daughters will use you as their template for their future husbands. They will use how you treat their mother as a playbook for how to expect their husbands to treat them. Therefore, if you love your daughter, and want her to have a happy, healthy marriage someday, then you need to take a hard look at your marriage right now. You create your daughter’s self-image, and teach her to trust. You will decide how susceptible she is to the wiles of boys, based on how much you reinforce her self-concept and confidence as you raise her.

    I knew these truths, and none of that was enough to really cause me to seek God. The truth that rocked my world is that I, and you men, as a father, am the template my daughter will use for GOD.

    For GOD!

    God refers to Himself as our Father, and I would be the only Father that my daughter would know.

    Here is why that rocked my world: I didn’t have much if any faith at the time, but I knew my life was not even a shred of a reasonable representation of God, whether I believed He existed or not. And I decided in that instant that I wanted to be the best representation of God to her that I could possibly be. But, I also realized that I was powerless to get there on my own.

    At this point, I was knocked on my butt. That is when I mentally kneeled before God (I was driving at the time!) and begged Him to change me.

    The moment of submission is how my journey began. Today I stand before you a changed man, no different on the outside (except a little heavier), but completely different on the inside. I’d be lying today if I told you that I am a perfect Biblical man, husband, father, son, employee, friend, or brother.  But I am certain that I am a man and that I am learning to fill these roles better as I journey on.

    I have learned and experienced so many things about my relationship to myself, my wife, my children, my God, and my world! I have overcome my addiction to porn. I have a fulfilling sex life with my wife. I have found joy in my life, largely independent of my circumstances. I am learning to take risks (you are reading one!). Maria has told me that I love and accept her like Jesus would. I am a work in progress, broken but not devastated. Every day I try to focus on being better than I was the day before. And I love my life!

    I won’t promise that I can teach you any of these things, but I do promise to work at sharing everything I am able. God has shown me that I have a heart for helping men find peace, confidence in their manhood, and understanding what being a man of God looks like. I hope you will walk with me in this journey of Manhood!

  • The Characters

    I tend to use people’s names in my posts without much explanation or context, so I wanted to provide a quick reference to who plays what role in my life story.

    Maria – my lovely wife! My champion, cheerleader, sparring partner, and best friend. I could fill this page with sweet words to describe my wife, but you’d all stop reading before you got to the next person. Suffice it to say that I love Maria more than my own life.

    Bonnie – my life coach of 5+ years, at the time of this writing. Bonnie has been an incredible resource on my journey, and has been instrumental in helping me grow.

    Olivia, Samuel, and Isaac – my three beautiful children. They will certainly appear from time to time, as they have taught me more about myself and God than probably anyone else on this planet!

  • What Are You Called? – On Names

    I had an interesting revelation tonight about the Biblical habit of changing people’s names. You know what I’m talking about, Saul to Paul, Simon to Peter, Abram to Abraham, etc. I’ve always had a thought land mine buried in the back of my brain about why that practice seems to have stopped. After all, when I came to faith, or even came *back* to faith, Jesus didn’t send me an email telling me my name was now “Thomas” or anything.

    Source: http://gratisography.com/
    Source: http://gratisography.com/

    That’s one of those Biblical questions that crops up from time to time, but I never seem to make any particular headway on it, so I let it lie.

    Tonight, I had the pleasure of attending FOTP’s Man Church. Besides the ridiculously tasty smoked brisket, I heard a message on names. Specifically, the name we are all given when we accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior – “son of God”. I’ve heard that before, as you likely have.

    However, what struck me was the idea that when these men’s names were changed, the new name had a meaning. Now, their old names also had meanings, of course. But the point is that their new names were titles, labels, descriptors of what these men would go on to do, on behalf of God.

    At least in American society, we don’t name people that way any more. Sure, names will be family names, or significant figures, but certainly the average boy in the US isn’t named “Great Father” (Abram) or “Jokester” (Jacob). Many are named Biblical names, but even then it is fairly rare, I believe, to pick the name based on the Biblical meaning, versus the Biblical figure the name represents.

    Which brings me back to my realization, if Jesus were sitting next to me right now (which I hope I’d 1) realize and 2) not be busily writing this!), He wouldn’t change my name to “One Who Writes Occasionally” or “Fun Father” – no one would take me seriously. So that’s why the renaming practice has died out, at least in the US. It may very well still take place in other parts of the world, and I may simply be showing my ignorance – if so, my apologies!

    So what, right? What really hit home for me tonight is that Jesus *has* given me new names, I just never thought of them that way. “Husband” then “Father”, many times “Friend”, at least once “Son”, certainly “son of God”, and now, as I am hesitantly embracing, “Writer”.

    In short, I had never thought of the new names handed out in the Bible as job descriptions, but they most certainly were! As I reflect on my life, I see my new names too. Each one represents a turning point in life, not necessarily an entirely new direction, but more likely a refinement of my trajectory, towards where ever God has designed me to go.

    In an interesting way, I have an easier time with the name of “Writer”. I have been struggling for a while with that title because writing comes easily to me. I’m sorry to anyone who reads my work and assumes it takes me hours and days of slaving over the keyboard – it doesn’t. I’ve written this in under an hour, even stopping in the middle to console an upset toddler – there’s that name again, “Father”, or as he calls me, “Daddy”.

    I am a writer. God has given me this talent, I know not why. But rather than feel guilty for having it, which is what I have been doing, I understand now that it is a gifting from God, and thus if I feel guilty about it, it should be because I am squandering it out of fear.

    I am a Writer.

  • Crapping Diamonds – Coping with Tension

    This morning I took on feeding the kids and prepping them for school, while Maria got ready so that she could attend a PTA meeting. I’m not looking for kudos, just laying the groundwork.

    My kids were, at best, jerks this morning. Samuel was up at 6:30, even before Olivia made it to the kitchen for breakfast. Mind you, Olivia’s school starts at 8, Samuel’s at 9, so this was *early* for him. Isaac came out around 7, probably in the best mood of the three.

    I got all three breakfast, and was starting on lunches when Maria came out. I was already tense at this point, juggling making their breakfasts with tending to their requests for more cereal, milk, a unicorn, Samuel making goat sounds, Olivia dancing in her chair, and Isaac wearing his (thankfully dry!) bowl as a hat.

    By 8:15, Maria has left to drop Olivia off and go to the PTA meeting. I’m cleaning up Isaac, and trying not to tell Samuel to go crawl in a hole and leave me be. I start up a video, and run through the shower.

    At 8:45, I’m dressed and ready, check Isaac’s diaper, comb hair, put shoes and socks on, and load up the boys. I get them both checked in, unloaded, and signed in to class by 9:10.

    And I am ready to crap diamonds, I am so tense. Maria makes this dance look easy, but I know the truth, that she works very hard to get all three kids up and out like this. Most of the time I am sheltered and simply have to worry about getting myself ready for work, and pitching in if there is a need. I am not used to this, and it takes a lot out of me.

    So as I pull into the driveway, I’m wracking my brain about how to blow off some of this tension. I want more than anything to gorge on sweets this morning – pop-tarts, candy, whatever – and eat my feelings. But I know, and have done that often enough, that it won’t actually help or make me feel any better. So I nix that idea.

    And that’s what led me to writing this. Writing is cathartic for me. And the hope that maybe someone else will see a little of themselves in this struggle, and choose to embrace their passion for a few minutes rather than some unhealthy means of dealing with their tension, makes this worthwhile. At this point, I’m tense, but markedly less so.

    I hope you read this, and it makes you smile. And if you are struggling with something today, you are welcome to steal my phrase, “crapping diamonds” to describe your level of stress!

  • Guilty Over My God-Given Gifts

    I had a good session with my life coach, Bonnie, today over lunch. We talked about a great many things, but there are a few that I am still chewing on…

    A loving God can love each human equally, yet not gift, empower, or emplace them equally. In other words, if you take what Jesus said literally, God does not build each and every human being with the same capacities for different aspects of life. The Bible is clear that different people have different gifts. Jesus said that we would always have poor people with us. Yes, some people are allowed to be born into horrible conditions, born with horrible conditions, or born with simply less capacity. I hate believing that, but the evidence is clear that is the case. I *want* a loving God to have built each and every human equally, by some measure. The US Constitution affirms that “all men are created equal”. Equal in the eyes of a loving God, but not equalLY.

    Part of the issue here is that, on some level, I associate earning potential with value in God’s eyes, which is a fallacy. God loves us all equally despite, and in some cases, in spite, of our earning potential.

    I’m hoping, although I’m going to do some more thinking, praying, and reading, but I’m hoping that God has created us all with an equal capacity to experience joy – that would help make my mental model work. Of course, God doesn’t need or care about the validity of my mental model, nor should he. Do I think some people are built to find joy faster or more easily, certainly. Can some people experience more joy than others – if they choose to. But I absolutely believe that God has placed a burden and a purpose on every person’s heart, and that working in and towards that produces joy. So in that regard, I believe we are all built with the same joy “potential”.

    What does any of this have to do with guilt? I’m glad you asked! One of the things Bonnie was pushing me on, is the fact that I feel guilty for using the gifts God has given me. As if I shouldn’t have them, or shouldn’t expose them to the world, for fear of hurting/embarrassing/making someone feel bad.

    Why?

    I have no idea, but I’m going to be chewing on that for a while. I can’t possibly imagine begrudging anyone using a God-given gift, except in the case that it highlights for me that I am not using my own gift of a similar nature. But even in that scenario, my issue is with my own choices, not theirs.

    Regardless, I feel guilty for being talented and gifted in the ways that I am.

    According to Bonnie, and I trust her wisdom, even if I’m loathe to accept it, the only guilt related to my Godly gifts should be not using them or sharing them with the world. Closely related would be thinking myself better than others who don’t share my gifts, which would be prideful, and I should feel guilty about.

    As I chewed on this stuff on my drive back home, I was brought face-to-face with the realization that I am afraid to embrace my true self. I am afraid of myself. Afraid of what unchaining myself might lead to. I can’t articulate a clear fear for letting myself run at full throttle, but I see that I fear it. I am afraid of my full potential. I don’t know why.