I’ve nearly recovered from a phone conversation I had on Monday with a retired pastor. That man of faith nearly drove me to give up – on everything. I’m not exactly sure what he was trying to accomplish, but that was the result. I found myself thinking about that conversation all week. Ever had one of those conversations?
Then yesterday I was talking to someone who has written a great book. She asked me to look it over. I was trying to encourage her, but for some reason everything that came out of my mouth sounded discouraging. I was saying stupid stuff. I had to write to her and apologize.
It made me realize something. That pastor who was discouraging me was just saying stupid stuff. He probably thought he was encouraging me. It just didn’t come out right. How tragic would it have been for me to give up because of one conversation with him.
I imagine lots of people give up on all sorts of things everyday because they have a conversation with someone who says stupid stuff. I have to remind myself that there is only one opinion that matters – God’s opinion. We need to listen to advisors, but they are only human and sometimes they are going to be more discouraging than encouraging. Hold on to what you know God has called you to do and keep pressing on.
A few years ago a friend asked us to take over his ministry in Mexico. We went to Mexico and ended up closing the guy’s ministry down.
I don’t usually put that on my resume. People don’t like to hear that you closed things. They want you to start things that “leave a legacy.”
Sometimes I look back at that experience and think, What the heck was that all about God? I just recently came to this conclusion about the experience:
I think God was trying to teach me that it’s ok to bring things to an end.
God is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. (Revelation 21:6) Only the government starts programs with no stopping date.
Sometimes we want to hold on to things that were for a season. The honeymoon phase of marriage. The unique worship experience. That church we loved. They served their purpose and God used them, but now it’s time to move on to bigger and better things. To more depth. Hanging on to them will really only hold us back from what God has.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted…
(Ecclesiastes 3:1-2)
(Note: Marriage is an obvious exception to the bringing things to an end rule.)
I used to go around asking people what their five year plan was. I thought I was being really inspirational and “visiony.” Most people gave me a blank stare. I just figured that meant they were wandering aimlessly through life and needed me to motivate them.
I really hope no one asks me what my five year plan is any time soon. ‘Cause frankly, I can’t see past June right now.
I still think people should have some goals they are shooting for, but I’m beginning to realize there are seasons where life is going to blow your planning to smithereens and force you to live in day by day faith.
Maybe that’s what Jesus was talking about when he said, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matt. 6:34)
If you are in a season where you can’t seem to wrap your head around a five year plan – fear not. I’m convinced God doesn’t really care that much about your five year plan anyway. He just wants you to focus on serving him today and becoming who he wants you to be. That’s his five eon plan for you.
Have you ever prayed something like this?
“Dear God, I just want your will. Please open the doors that I’m supposed to walk through and close the ones I’m not.”
I pray like that a lot. But I realized something recently. When God actually closes a door I don’t usually like it. I feel all rejected and downtrodden. I start thinking negatively. I guess they didn’t want me. I’m not good enough. Maybe my best days are behind me.
That leads to me praying like this: “Thanks a lot God, this really stinks!”
So I have to remind myself that if I really want God’s will I need to learn to accept the open doors and the closed ones as an answer to prayer. I need to thank him for truly leading me – and making things really clear.
…give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thess. 5:18
I watched a guy get really mad last night. He tensed up. He started interspersing F-bombs as his adjective of choice, using it in front of nearly every noun. He pounded his fist a few times.
I thought about how I must look in those moments when I lose control and get angry.
It’s been scientifically proven that when you get angry your IQ actually drops. You lose intelligence and get dumber. For some of us, that’s really dangerous. I need to hold on to every little bit of intelligence I have. J
So it served as a good reminder. I need to keep my anger under control. I need to walk away from situations when I feel tension in my neck and my fists clenching. Because “ the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” (James 1:20)
And it keeps me from looking dumb.
One day I hope to run with the bulls in Pamplona. So I’ve been reading up on safety rules. Rule #1 is:
If you go down, stay down and cover your head. Do not try to get back up.
They say every person who has been killed running in recent years didn’t follow that one simple rule.
Yes, people die doing it. But in spite of the danger, I still plan to run with the bulls.
Here I am talking all brave about running with the bulls, but what’s funny (or maybe tragic) is – I frequently don’t try things that actually have eternal significance for fear of ending up flat on my face or being trampled. I’d wager I’m not alone on that.
So I have to remind myself of this: If I run with the bulls and end up on the ground I’ll cover my head and wait for the chaos to pass. Then I’ll get up, dust myself off and start bragging (humbly of course).
“Hey, I ran with the bulls!”
All the people on the sidelines who weren’t brave enough to try will look at the dust and hoof prints on my previously white shirt and say, “Ooh. I wish I could do that.” To that I’ll respond.
“You can.”
(I’ll actually say: Si, se puede! ’cause it sounds more inspirational and they speak Spanish in Pamplona.) 🙂
When I was hiking the Inca Trail a friend of mine said something that changed my life. The trail is 25 miles of intense hiking at altitudes above 12,000ft. We looked back over the trail after a particularly grueling section and in passing my friend said, “It’s amazing what you can get accomplished if you just put one foot in front of the other.”
It wasn’t a new revelation. I had just never heard it put that way before. I thought about it for days after that and considered the implications.
I can be the world’s best husband if I take it one day at a time. Be the best I can be – every day.
I can write a book. One word after another. Do that day after day and you’d be amazed how much you can get written.
I can get through any challenge. One step at a time. I just have to keep marching and looking ahead.
Whatever trail God has you on, I can guarantee you that it has a destination. Keep watching Him and putting one foot in front of the other. You’ll be amazed how far you can get if you just hold on and keep hiking.
I love my scooter. It costs me about $3 per week in gas. Plus, when I’m riding I feel part of everything going on around me. I feel alive. I’m out there in the open.
I only have two complaints:
- I’m way more vulnerable to getting hit than when I’m tucked away safely in a car.
- When I get off the scooter I don’t always smell so good. I have that outdoorsy smell. A combination of sweat and wind and exhaust.
Riding my scooter kind of reminds me of working with people. It’s invigorating. You feel alive when you are involved in other people’s lives. But it can make you vulnerable to being hit pretty good too. Often times you don’t smell as good as you want because it’s hard to stay clean.
In spite of all that I still think it’s worth it. It’s way cheaper than the alternative of isolation in your safe vehicle. And I’m also pretty convinced that God isn’t really going to care how we smell when we pull up to the gates of heaven. He’s more worried about how big the scooter gang is that we brought behind us.
The blog I wrote last Friday reminded me of an experience I had in Tibet.
I woke up to the sound of a bell and Tibetan Buddhist monks droning their morning prayers. My head was pounding from the 18,000ft plus of altitude and dehydration. The water bottles had all frozen over night. I crunched my way out of the tiny settlement and into the barren valley of the Rombuk glacier.
Then it happened.
The clouds broke ahead of me and the glistening, snow-covered peak of Mt.Everest came into view.
I remember thinking:
- I will never climb that beast. I am suffering down here, that’s two miles higher.
- How the heck did I get here? I have no money, yet God provided for this trip.
- God is far too good to me. I’m a punk kid fromTexas. I’m cocky, arrogant and really shouldn’t be standing at the foot of the tallest mountain in the world. Humbling. This is the stuff people dream of doing.
Yes, I cried. The good kind of crying. The kind that reminds you to look up and say:
Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory
in the heavens.
Through the praise of children and infants
you have established a stronghold against your enemies,
to silence the foe and the avenger.
When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?
Psalm 8
Joël Malm 
