The Current State of Technology

You may have noticed that I’ve written less about technology on the blog this year than usual. That’s because I’ve been doing all of my tech writing over on my side project Prosumable. But I recently made the decision to shutter the site to focus on other projects (more on that in a future post), so I guess you can expect to read more of my thoughts on technology here again.

Writing about technology news this year has taught me a lot about the world of tech and the direction that it’s going. It’s helped me become more critical of the companies and other entities that are setting the course for the future of the industry. And it’s shifted my interest in technology from the day-to-day headlines and gadget announcements to the bigger, broader issues facing the tech world today and in the future.

So as I’m moving on from this writing project that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, I thought it might be worthwhile to stop and reflect on the things I’ve learned. Not just what I’ve learned about cool advances like augmented reality, artificial intelligence, and ambient computing (Google it), but what I’ve learned about the technology world as a whole and what we as consumers should be looking out for going forward. Here are the most important issues facing technology today as I see them.

Number one: accessibility. As great as technology can be, it’s useless if people aren’t able to acquire it or use it. And accessibility is a problem on multiple fronts.

Many technologies are economically inaccessible. They’re simply too expensive for lower-income individuals and families to purchase. This is a shame because technology is often the very thing that can elevate people out of poverty when given the chance. Something as simple as a smartphone can open up a person to a world of economic possibilities including learning a marketable skill (such as coding), starting their own business, or cultivating professional relationships. Not to mention the educational benefit technology can have for children and adolescents. Fortunately, technology tends to become more economically accessible over time, and governments, non-profits, and even corporations themselves are working to make technology available to more low-income families every day, but there is certainly more work to be done here.

Even as the prices of new technologies go down, their geographic accessibility often remains severely limited. Did you know that you couldn’t purchase an Amazon Echo smart speaker in Canada until last month? Canada, the friendly, English-speaking country directly north of the United States, didn’t have access to a groundbreaking technology created by a U.S. business for over two years. And if things are that fragmented in the developed, western world, one can only imagine how much more complex it gets as one moves further away. There are significant portions of the world that don’t even have access to the internet today, which is why Facebook and Google are developing drones and weather balloons to bring access non-connected areas (which is scary in and of itself).

Things are getting better, slowly but surely. Tech companies are starting to see the potential for growth outside of their traditional boundaries and are exploring new markets, which can only benefit consumers worldwide. And individuals in new places will inevitably find unique, creative ways to use these technologies for the greater good. Technology has the ability to build bridges and close gaps on a number of different levels if we simply give it the opportunity to do so.

And of course, there’s accessibility as it’s traditionally understood. Making technology useful for individuals with disabilities has been a hit-or-miss endeavor to say the least. But as social awareness of and concern for such issues has grown, technology companies have responded to public pressure and integrated accessibility into their products. When I read about a blind man using haptic technology to run the New York marathon without an assistant this year, I had tears in my eyes. I only hope that we’ll see more of these stories come to light soon. These individuals have just as much to contribute to the world as we who are able-bodied do, and technology often gives them just the opportunities they need in order to do so.

Next up: accountability. This one is huge, and I think that everyday consumers are starting to understand it on some level. But it’s not just about net neutrality, or whatever big issue comes next. Technology is by its very nature amoral, neither good nor bad. And in order to ensure that it’s used for good and not evil, we must be vigilant about holding those in control at all levels accountable.

It starts with individuals. We each have to hold ourselves and those around us accountable for the ways that we use the tech that we have access to. I am horrified by the stories I read about the way people abuse online anonymity to harm others. And that is just one of many ways in which individuals try to use technology to avoid personal responsibility for their actions. No matter the medium we use, we must remember that all of our actions are real-world actions with real-world consequences. Technology does not change that. And so, we must take seriously what we do with it to ensure that we’re using it to make the world a better place and not a worse one.

Corporations are also in desperate need of accountability. Week after week, I read stories about companies misleading and exploiting their customers for their own gain. Nonconsensual data gathering here. Illegal information selling there. And hacks. There’s always a hack. It’s easy to feel powerless in the face of these giant companies, but the truth is that regular consumers do have a say. Through voicing our opinions, pushing for regulation, and spending our money on products and services that align with our values, we have the ability to keep these companies accountable. And we owe it to ourselves to do so.

And finally, there’s the big one: governments. I’m no anarchist, but here’s something I know about governments: They will use any and every means available to gain as much power as they can. And technology has an incredible potential for gaining and leveraging power. It can highlight voices that would otherwise be suppressed, or it can be used to do just the opposite. In the United States, at least, government and business interests have become so intertwined that regular people feel practically powerless when it comes to choosing how they want technology to be regulated or even categorized in public discourse.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t try. When we see governing bodies overstepping their bounds and regulating technologies in ways we see unfit, we have channels that we can use to speak out. If you have the ability to vote, do it. Contact your representatives, even if they fall on a different part of the political spectrum than you do. Use your voice. Organize. We have to do everything we can to keep these organizations from suppressing innovation and keeping important technology out of the hands of everyday people.

And last but not least: intentionality. As I said above, technology is neither good nor evil. It has immense potential, but we have to be mindful of the ways that potential is used. Otherwise, we risk causing destruction with these tools that are meant to be profoundly constructive.

We must consider the ways that we integrate technology into our lives. I’m not one of those people who gets angry with strangers for texting at a restaurant, but I am concerned about the ways emerging technologies will change and potentially hinder human interaction. These tools are incredible, but they must be used responsibly and in moderation. Diminishing communication skills, distracted driving, and screen addiction are early warning signs of what happens when we aren’t intentional about the way we use technology. But these problems are not irreversible. It simply takes each of us choosing to focus our attention on the ways that our devices are improving and inhibiting our lives and then acting on those observations.

But intentionality can’t stop there. We also have to think about the costs these new technologies come with. Whether it be environmental damage, mistreatment of factory employees, or just the economic burden that technology can bring, we must count the cost. And when the cost is too great, we must be willing to say, “No.” Convenience does not outweigh conviction, and so we are each responsible for understanding the impact of the technologies we choose to utilize so that we can make purchase and use decisions that align with our values.

And finally, we must be intentional about using technology to improve lives. After all, that’s what it was created for. If technology isn’t helping people—if it isn’t having a net positive impact on the world—then what’s the point? We can keep making things smaller and cheaper and faster and better, but if it’s just for the sake of those things, then it’s all meaningless. Technology has always been made to benefit human beings, and we cannot get so caught up in the pursuit of progress that we lose sight of why we have these technologies in the first place.

Really, it all comes down to awareness. That’s what I’ve tried to do with the Prosumable project: increase awareness. Awareness of what technologies are available. Awareness of how these technologies impact our lives. Awareness of our rights and influence as consumers in the face of corporations and governments. Technology has the potential to be a great equalizer and to elevate the human population as a whole to heights we never thought possible. But if it’s going to do so, the world of technology must first and always tackle these three issues of accessibility, accountability, and intentionality if we ever hope to use technology to its fullest potential.

Vocational Ministry: Year One

I don’t know how it happened, but a full year has passed since I started my first full-time ministry job. Exactly one year ago today, I stepped into Cavanaugh Free Will Baptist Church for my first day as Creative Media Director. In some part of my mind, it still seems too good to be true. It just doesn’t feel real.

And yet, it is. It has been for a year now. And though this year has been a whirlwind, it’s also been an incredible learning experience for me. So I thought that it would be a good idea today to share some truths that I’ve picked up on over my first year of vocational ministry.

The first thing I learned very quickly and very often, and it’s that people are more kind, loving, and generous than I could ever imagine. My church family has welcomed me with open arms. They’ve embraced and supported me in ways I never expected from a church I was serving. Whether it was praying for me as I was driving back and forth to school, volunteering to help with a project, or just offering a word of encouragement when passing in the hall, I have been constantly impressed by the love and grace that has been shown to me by my church family. And I could not be more grateful.

I’ve also learned that I can’t minister to others if I’m not taking care of myself. That may seem pretty simple, but it’s a truth that I have to keep reminding myself of. My ability to serve is dependent on both my physical and mental health, so sometimes the best thing I can do for those I’m serving is take a little bit of time for myself. When I’m stressed or exhausted, I’m not giving my best to the church and to the Lord, and then nobody wins. But when I’m engaging in self-care, I find that I have the time and energy to serve well. And that’s a practice I hope I’ll stay on top of throughout my ministry.

Working at the church this past year has shown me that I never know what I’m capable of until I’m thrown into a situation where I have to prove it. I’m pretty self-critical, and I can doubt myself to the point that I never try anything new or challenging. But when a challenge comes my way and I get up the courage to face it, I often find that I have the resources and capabilities necessary to get the job done. I just have to trust in myself and the talents that God has given me. He put me in this job for a reason, and he’s going to equip me with what I need. I just have to give myself opportunities to use what he’s given me, and that’s a lesson I’ve had to learn over the past year.

I’ve always been pretty rigid about my schedule, so it was a surprise for me when I discovered that flexibility is a life skill, not a personality trait. I used to look at people who practiced flexibility and think, “I wish I could be like them.” But through my work, I’ve come to find that I have everything I need to be like them. It’s a mindset, a choice that I can make. And though I’m not always consistent about making that necessary choice, I’m getting better. As I get more secure and comfortable in my position, I’m able to be more flexible and spontaneous when the occasion arises.

And the final lesson I’ve learned this year is that God is always faithful. No matter how many times I get something wrong, or say something I regret, or miss something I should have noticed, he’s always there to offer me grace. He encourages me when I feel discouraged. He assures me when I feel inadequate. And he constantly blesses me with a sense of fulfillment from doing his work. Throughout this entire year of change, growth, and learning, God has remained constant, and I know that I’ll always be able to rely on him as I continue to minister in the way he’s called me to.

It’s been an incredible year. I’ve started my first full-time job in ministry, graduated seminary, gotten ordained, and learned so much. This is only the first of what I hope will be many, many years of doing God’s work, and I couldn’t have asked for a better one. A huge thank you to my friends, family, colleagues, and church family for all of their support and encouragement throughout this year. I am so very blessed. As I start my second year of ministry work, I can only hope and pray that it will be as full of love, growth, and fulfillment as this year has been.

Advocacy

If you’ve been my friend or a reader of this blog for very long, you’re probably aware that I am greatly concerned about social issues. I feel personally convicted about the poverty, racism, sexism, and other types of discrimination and inequality that I see around me. These issues take up a great deal of my time and mental energy, and I’ve even written on some of these topics before.

But I struggle with my place in all of this. As someone who’s been blessed with a great deal of privilege, I sometimes wonder if I should have a voice in these areas at all. To be honest, I’ve never been personally affected by the inequalities that I feel led to speak out against. I’ve probably even benefitted from them at some point in my life, inadvertent as it may have been. So who am I to insert myself into a situation that seemingly doesn’t concern me and speak on behalf of people I don’t represent? Who do I think I am?

And yet, I still feel led to speak. Over time and through much discernment, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t help but say something in the face of the inequality that surrounds me. And that puts me in a bit of a tricky position. I feel convicted to say something while still recognizing that I’m not speaking from a place of personal experience. And so I often wonder how to respect the experiences of those who are oppressed while also advocating for them.

It’s taken me a while, but I’ve come up with a system that I think works well for me and what I’m called to do. This may not be the perfect system for everyone, but for those of us who feel led to speak out for those we may not necessarily identify with, it’s at least a starting point for thinking through how we can helpful without overstepping.

Listen

The first step to solving any problem is understanding it, and when that problem impacts human beings, understanding means listening to those who are affected. Without first listening, there’s no way that we can accurately address the issue at hand. And while it may sound simple, listening actually may be the hardest step in this process. It involves some difficult actions on our part.

Listening involves getting out of our comfort zone. As I said above, we’re talking about problems that don’t directly affect us and those we tend to associate with, so learning about them must include reaching out to those we don’t know. This is uncomfortable. It’s probably going to be misunderstood. And it might even receive some pushback from the very people we’re trying to connect with. But it is necessary, and I can say from personal experience that it is worthwhile.

When I was in seminary, I became involved with Mission Waco, an organization dedicated to improving the lives of the underprivileged in the community. I worked nights at Mission Waco’s homeless shelter and taught job training classes to teenagers from nearby schools. Every week, as I drove to the wrong side of town and spent time with people I’d never even fathomed speaking to before, I learned about the experiences of homelessness, of mental illness, of abandonment, of poverty, and so much more. These conversations were difficult for me, but they opened my eyes to a whole new world of people just like me who were suffering from things I could never comprehend on my own. And it helped me understand their plight in a way that literally changed my life.

But that’s not all. Listening also involves trusting the people we listen to. Unfortunately, public discourse around oppression has afforded far too little trust to those who find themselves victimized. We default to disbelieving those who say they have been treated unfairly when we should actually be doing the opposite. Is it possible that a few may lie and take advantage of us? Yes. But it’s not our place to decide who needs help and who doesn’t.

We don’t get to look someone who’s been oppressed in the eyes and say, “I don’t believe you,” because when we do, we are responsible for traumatizing them all over again. It’s not our job to judge between those who deserve to be heard and those who don’t. It’s simply our job to listen and to take seriously what we are told.

Finally, listening involves silence. We cannot hear what another person is saying if we’re too busy talking ourselves. And when it comes to instances of injustice, it is particularly important that we practice silence in the midst those who have been mistreated. At most, we can say, “I’m sorry,” or respectfully ask questions in order to gain a better understanding. But at no point are we to criticize or call into question the experiences of the oppressed. To do so would be to undermine the entire endeavor.

Nor are we to swoop in and tell those we are trying to serve what they need, as we are far too often tempted to do. It’s not our job to tell them how to fix their problems. They know better than we ever could what they need. It’s our job to listen to their experiences, their desires, and their ideas for how best to move forward. Only then can we even start to know what it is to walk in their shoes, and only then can we move on the next step in the advocacy process.

Sympathize

Listening—and especially listening well—is an important first step, but we can’t stop there if we want to affect real change. Listening and understanding are admirable, but they don’t mean a thing if we don’t actually care. That’s where sympathy comes in.

I’m a knowledge person. I love to learn new things. I want to learn every fact there is to know about every thing that’s out there. And when I get interested in something, there is no limit to how far I’ll go to understand it as fully as I possibly can. That includes social issues. Before I ever found them important, I first found them interesting. So I spent a great deal of time and energy trying to learn about them, to gain as much knowledge as I possibly could.

This is great, and I would encourage anyone who’s interested in such topics to do the same. Read books. Watch videos. Take classes. Discuss these things with experts and with your friends. We should always be seeking to learn as much as we can about the things that matter to us. But if we stop there, if we seek knowledge simply for the sake of knowledge (as I’m often tempted to do), then it’s all for nothing because it’s never going to actually help anyone.

We have to take the next step. We have to go from knowledge to compassion. For some, that step may be small or even non-existent. But for others, it might be a big step indeed. It may even involve intentional effort. There’s a reason I’ve included sympathy as one of the three steps to advocacy. Without it, advocacy cannot happen, so we must do what it takes to develop it.

Fortunately, if we listen well, we won’t find ourselves too far from sympathy. How could we truly understand the suffering of those who are oppressed and not care? How could we truly understand their pain and not feel it ourselves? The only thing left to do is to allow ourselves to feel something, to become emotionally vulnerable to the stories that we hear and to the people who tell them. I’m not saying that this will be easy, but it is necessary. And if anyone deserves our sympathy, it’s those who have found themselves mistreated by society due to no fault of their own.

Facts don’t change people. Real stories told by real people change people. And when we take the time to listen to those stories, to relate to them, to feel the depths of them, we cannot help but be changed ourselves. We cannot help but develop sympathy and solidarity with those we feel led to serve. And when knowledge and sympathy come together, we suddenly find ourselves in the perfect position to do something that will make a lasting change.

Speak Out

So we’ve ventured out and listened to the voices of the oppressed. We’ve opened ourselves up to their stories and become sympathetic to their cause. What now?

We go back.

We return to our comfort zones, to our in-groups, but we return different than when we left. No longer able to remain complacent as others suffer, we are now motivated to take action. We can’t help but do something to combat the injustice that we see in the world. And one of the most important steps we can take is to speak out.

Whereas we are called to remain silent as we listen to those who are suffering, we are called to become vocal when we go back home. In this place, to be silent would be to deny the change that has taken place within us. Advocacy is ultimately about speaking out for those who do not have a voice. It’s not that they cannot speak, but that they will not be heard among the privileged. But there’s a chance that we will, and we have a duty to take that chance.

This is how we use our privilege for something more than just ourselves. It’s the only way that I’ve found to avoid playing into the system of oppression and exploitation that gave me a head start in the first place. I don’t deserve the blessings I’ve been given, but I can use those blessings to help bring justice to those who do not have it. And in that way, maybe I can make the world a better place.

Speaking out isn’t about spreading my opinions and beliefs. It isn’t about making a name for myself. It’s about sharing the experiences and concerns of those I’ve listened to so that maybe others like me will become concerned as well. If I’ve been changed by these stories, surely others will be, too. And maybe, by sharing the changes that these stories have caused in me, I can invite others to listen and to allow themselves to be changed as well.

That’s what I’m hoping for, anyway. That’s the point of this blog post, and it’s the point of a great deal of the conversations I have on a daily basis: taking what I’ve learned and felt through my experiences with the underprivileged and sharing it with others who, like me, have never experienced systemic injustice firsthand. It is my hope and prayer that we will collectively become more aware of and more concerned for these social issues and those who are affected by them so that together we can have the hard conversations and make the hard choices necessary to remove these inequalities for good.

And I believe it all starts with us being willing to listen, to sympathize, and to speak out. Will you be an advocate?

The God of Exceptions

Last Wednesday night, I was ordained into the ministry by my church. Surrounded by my friends, family, and mentors, I was able to share and confirm my calling with those I love. It was an incredible night, and I am so thankful for everyone who played a part in it.

For my blog post this week, I'd like to share the sermon I wrote and delivered for this service. It's something that I've been thinking through for the past couple of years, and I think it represents my hopes for my ministry going forward. I've embedded the video below, but I've also included my manuscript in case you'd rather read it. As many of you know firsthand, I'm a much more natural writer than speaker.

Either way, I hope you enjoy it.

One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” —Luke 23:39-43

If you ever attend a Passover seder, you might notice something a little peculiar. Sure, you’ll see the expected Passover lamb and unleavened bread. We know all about that. But then you’ll also see the cups. As part of the meal, everyone gets a cup of… well, Free Will Baptists call it “grape juice.” There’s one for mom, one for dad, maybe one for grandma and grandpa, and one for every aunt and uncle, too. But once all the cups have been passed out, you might notice that there’s still one more. There’s an extra cup just sitting there, full, ready for someone to drink it. And you might wonder, “Who could that be for?”

And if you get up the courage to ask, the family members will be happy to tell you exactly who that extra cup is for. It’s for the prophet Elijah. As you probably remember from the book of 2 Kings, Elijah’s life didn’t end the way human lives normally do. Whereas most people throughout history have died, had funerals, and been buried, Elijah took a different, more theatrical, route. You see, when Elijah’s time had come, he did not go gentle into that good night. Instead, he rode off into the sky in a chariot made of fire, leaving nothing but his cloak and his stupefied apprentice behind.

And it only makes sense that if Elijah went riding off into the sunset, he’s got to come back down eventually. He never actually died, after all. And good Jewish families want to be sure that if the prophet shows up for dinner, they’ll be ready for him. And so, every Passover seder, they set out an extra cup just for Elijah in case he decides to grace them with his presence that evening.

Now, I’m not telling you this to make fun of this practice. In fact, I think it’s beautiful. It highlights a truth that these Passover celebrants are often better at recognizing than we often are. It celebrates the fact that we worship a God who loves to make exceptions to the rules.

And don’t you just love it when you get to be the exception to the rule? It makes you feel special, right? I remember when my family and I went to Disney World, we had the best time. My brother had just had knee surgery, so he was in wheelchair, which meant that we got to go the front of all the lines! We didn’t have to wait 45 minutes to get on the Tower of Terror like all of those able-bodied suckers in the back. No, we got to march right up to the front and hop on in no time as everyone else gave us death stares and we just smiled.

We like to be the exception to the rule. It’s fun when you get that free refill at your favorite restaurant. Or when you get to use that coupon that expired yesterday. And I think most of us have experienced the relief that comes when you get caught driving just a little faster than you should be and the officer lets you off with a warning. I’m not saying we shouldn’t have rules. Rules are in place for a reason. But we all have times when we enjoy the benefit of being the exception.

And in our text from Luke, we see another example of someone who benefitted from being the exception to the rule. The man being crucified next to Jesus wasn’t a saint by any means. We know that at the very least, he was a thief, and who knows what else he did to get himself up on there on that cross? Whatever it was, he clearly felt like he deserved what he was getting. Little did he know that he was about to get so much more than he deserved.

Can you imagine what it must have felt like for that thief when Jesus looked him in the eyes and said, “Today, you will be with me in paradise”? If I were him, I would be dumbstruck: “Wait a second. I’m being killed for my crimes, and here the savior of the world is telling me that I’m going to go hang out with him when this is all over? How did we get here?”

You see, that thief was mere hours away from a terrible fate. He’d lived his life, he’d made his choices, and now, he was about to suffer the consequences of what he had done. When Jesus turned and looked at that man, he saw someone headed for hell. But when he looked away just a few moments later, everything had changed. With one sentence, Jesus reversed the trajectory of that man’s eternity.

It wasn’t anything that that man had done. He hadn’t made any sacrifice or prayed any special prayer. He just… hung there as Jesus declared that he was saved. This thief was the first person to receive eternal life through Jesus Christ, and he received it for no other reason than that Jesus chose to give it to him.

That, my friends, is the greatest exception to any rule in all of history. A human soul on its way to hell suddenly changed course by the grace of God, and now, that thief will spend eternity in heaven. The importance, the innovation, the incredible nature of this event cannot be understated. In this moment, God made an exception to the rule, and it changed everything.

God made an exception for Elijah. He made an exception for the thief on the cross. And he continues to make exceptions to this day.

The truth is that each of us in this room who are Christians have benefitted from being made exceptions to the rules. The rules say that anyone who commits sin, who turns away from God, who participates in the brokenness of this world, is deserving of separation from God, spiritual death, and eternal punishment. That’s what the rules state, clear as day. But praise God, he made an exception out of each and every one of us. God broke his own rules. He broke into history, overcame sin and death, and gave each of us an opportunity to be an exception to the rule. To know him. To be reconciled to him. And to live forever with him. Aren’t you thankful for that?

And as I read this story and reflect on what it means for God to make exceptions to the rules for us, it makes me wonder about ways that we can share in that, ways that we can make exceptions to the rules for others.

The rules say, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.” Except, Jesus taught us to forgive others rather than to seek revenge.

The rules say, “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.” Except, my church has a food bank every Monday from 1:00 to 3:00. Won’t you come?

The rules say, “A preacher can’t have a haircut like that!” Except, here I am. Sure, my church family likes to poke fun at me for my (admittedly unorthodox) hairstyle, but they don’t mean it negatively. Many of the people at my church are as old-school as they come. And yet, they accept me with all of my quirks. As trivial as it may sound, they’ve made an exception out of me in this, and I can’t thank them enough.

The rules say that our society is divided on social, racial, economic, and political lines that cannot be crossed and cannot be reconciled. Except, the Bible tells us that, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus“ (Galatians 3.28). And may I add that in Christ, there is no black or white, no rich or poor, no liberal or conservative. We are called to be the exception to the rules that try to divide us.

The rules say that this world is a broken place full of fallen people and that nothing good can come of any of it. The rules say that we are selfish, sinful people who aren’t interested in anything except our own well-being. The rules say that we are helpless in the face of the evil that surrounds us and that all that’s left for us to do is to give in. Except, we worship a God who sets us free from all of that. Who breaks the rules for us and invites us to do the same for others.

We serve a God of order. A God who made the rules that we adhere to. But we also serve a God of grace. A God who makes exceptions to the rules, who performs miracles, who lets us off the hook when we clearly don’t deserve it.

Here’s the thing about grace. In the words of one of my favorite musicians, “The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair.” It’s not fair when an exception is made to the rules, and some people may not like that. But we serve a God who has a habit of making expectations to the rules, and my hope for my ministry is that I can share the grace that’s been given to me, that I will alway seek ways to share that exception-making with as many people as possible. And I invite you to do the same.

Jason Isbell, God, and Our Plans

Every once in a while, I hear a song that just sticks with me. I can’t shake it. I listen to it over and over again trying to get it out of my system, but just when I think I’m over it, the song pops right back into my head, and all I can do is put on my headphones and press play. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, I can listen to a song dozens or even hundreds of times before it passes.

“24 Frames” by Jason Isbell was one of those songs for me.

This song stuck with me for a while when I first heard it. It’s not the style of music I typically listen to, but when I first heard my music pastor in Waco playing it a couple of years ago, I instantly knew it was a song I was going to have to spend some time with.

I thought the metaphor of 24 frames was clever. (For those who may not know, a frame is just a still image, and 24 of them are combined to make one second of film. So, one second in movie time is 24 frames, or pictures.) And I thought Jason Isbell’s reflections on his relationships during the verses were certainly relatable. But that wasn’t what really hooked me. What got me was the line in the chorus that refers to God as a pipe bomb.

What?

When I first heard that line, I had two reactions almost simultaneously: shock and agreement. I thought, “I’ve never heard God spoken about that way before, but yeah, I guess it’s kind of true.” But I wasn’t content to stop there. I needed to dive deeper. I wanted to understand what it was about that line that both surprised and informed me in ways that I wasn’t yet able to put into words.

So I spent a lot of time with this song. I listened to it over and over and over. I learned every line. Sang it out. Sometimes I would turn the music off and just sing it to myself. I kept repeating this song for weeks, and even when I finally stopped listening to it so intensely, I still thought about it often.

When we started doing a study on portrayals of God in culture for my Bible study, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to take all of my ruminations about this song and finally put them into something comprehensible. I wrote a rough outline and used it as the basis for a great discussion with my class, and after all this time, I think I’m ready to share what this song has helped me realize—or at least understand more clearly—about God.

God is unpredictable.

“You thought God was an architect; now you know he’s something like a pipe bomb ready to blow.”

You know what would be nice? It would be nice if God wrote us a book that detailed his plan for our lives from beginning to end and all we had to do was follow the steps sequentially. That would be so very convenient, wouldn’t it? So simple. Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.

But it is a common misconception. I thinks it’s natural for us to believe that God’s plan for our lives is clear, straightforward, and, well, easy. To us, God is like a master architect who’s slowly and meticulously constructing our lives using a blueprint that we have access to if we can just crack the code. Sometimes, we go so far as to believe that we know every facet of God’s will for our lives. And when we do that, we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment, or worse.

God does speak to us through a book, but that book doesn’t tell us that God’s will is easy. It gives us some hints about seeking God’s will, but mostly, it tells about God himself. And at one point pretty early on, God reveals his nature in the truest way that human words can express. He tells us, “I am what I am” (Exodus 3.14).

You see, we don’t get to tell God who he is. Only God can define that. And anytime we allow ourselves to develop a static, limited image of God in our minds, he swoops in and complicates it. Because he’s always so much more than what we understand about him. That’s what we call his transcendence: He is more than we imagine him to be.

And one result of transcendence is that, to us at least, God is unpredictable. We never know exactly what he’s going to do next. We may feel like he’s preparing us for one thing only to find out that he has something completely different in mind for us. And in order to do that, he has to get rid of anything that’s in the way. Which means sometimes, he has to blow some stuff up. And now the pipe bomb analogy is starting to make sense.

Let me be clear: I am not saying that God is out to get you and to destroy everything you love. There are actually some people out there who see God as the antagonist of their story, the one who is trying to tear them down. And that simply is not true. God is loving, and everything he does, he does for our own good. It may feel like the end of the world when God tears down something we’ve spent so much time and energy building up, but through it all, we must remember who God is. He may be hard to predict, but he is always good.

As hard as it may be to accept, we serve a God who does new things. He is creative and innovative, and he’s been creating and innovating from day one. The universe itself is a result of his creativity, but he doesn’t stop there. God is always doing something new in the lives of his people, and it may be scary, but when it feels like God’s unpredictability is destroying all that we’ve built, we have to believe that he’s doing something new, and we have to have faith in who he is.

God isn’t constrained by our plans.

“Everything you built that’s all for show goes up in flames in 24 frames.”

I’ve always been a planner. For as long as I can remember, I’ve constantly wanted to know what’s next. This has certain benefits. It helps me prepare for the future, and it eases the anxiety that comes with uncertainty. It also sets me up for success. These positive side effects of planning are real, but there’s a dark side to my obsession with making plans, too.

When I’m at my worst, I become dogmatic about my plans. I get so focused on my idea how things should go that any slight deviation from the agenda becomes a catastrophe. I get nervous and frustrated. I shut down. I sometimes feel like I want to call the whole thing off because if it doesn’t go my way, then it’s never going to be right. This approach to planning is unhealthy, destructive, and ultimately self-defeating.

Because the truth is that plans change. And my plans are rarely—if ever—flawless. And so, when I’m planning an event with other people or thinking through my long-term goals or even just deciding what I want to do on my day off, I have to practice a certain amount of flexibility and even humility. When it comes to God and following his plans for my life, these practices are all the more critical.

Proverbs 19.21 tells us, “The human mind may devise many plans, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will be established.” Basically, what this means is that we can do all the planning in the world, but in the end, God’s plan is the one that will be carried out. Our agendas may seem solid, even perfect. But if they aren’t in line with what God wants, they will crumble in his wake.

This is a hard truth to accept, especially when what we want doesn’t align with what God wants. Of course, we think that we know what’s best for us. We believe that no one could possibly come up with a better plan for our lives than we could. After all, who knows us better than ourselves? Who understands our hopes, our dreams, and our needs more than we do?

The answer to those questions is that God does. Because we are fallen people living in a fallen world, our very minds—our cognitive abilities themselves—have been corrupted. And that includes our knowledge of ourselves. A plan that may seem perfectly logical to us could be a path to destruction from God’s point of view. But he sees the long-term that we can’t even fathom, and he knows what each of us ultimately needs.

When we prioritize our own plans above the will of God, we’re basically saying, “God, I’ve got this. I know what’s best for me. My plan for my life is better than your plan for my life.” We strive for control, and in the process, we dishonor God and elevate our own reasoning above his. This should not be so.

Sure, we can ignore God’s will and do our own thing. We can try as hard as we like to make our plans work. But we’re just extending that 24 frames into 48, 96, or more moments of heartache and failure until we finally decide to follow the only right path for our lives: the one he has for us.

God is the only one who truly knows what is best for us. Yes, it’s good for us to make plans, to set goals, to try to achieve the things that we feel led to pursue. But all of that planning must be done within the context of God’s will and with the acknowledgement that if he decides that he has something better for us, we’d best go along with it.

There is a Yiddish proverb that goes something like this: “Man plans, and God laughs.” I don’t think this image is portraying God as cruel. Rather, like a loving father, God looks down on us scrambling and stressing, trying to come up with some coherent plan for our lives and stick to it, and he chuckles to himself, saying, “If only they realized that I’ve got this covered.” And when we stop focusing on our own agendas long enough to really think about it, we realize that he does.

God has plans for us that are far more wonderful, fulfilling, and impactful than we could ever imagine. He knows each of us intimately, and he knows exactly what is best for us. God is not limited by our imperfect plans, and we should be thankful for it. Like the song says, we build and we build, and sometimes we even do it for the wrong reasons. In those times, God has a different plan for us, and that can be scary. But once we humble ourselves and recognize that he has the best possible plans in mind for us, we can let go of the burden of directing our lives and allow God to do his thing.

God has the best in mind for us.

“You thought God was an architect; now you know he’s sitting in a black car ready to go.”

Because the truth is that he’s not going to leave us in a place of destruction. Sure, he might have to blow up some bad ideas and tear down some flawed plans in order to get us where we need to be, but he never stops there. He always has something ahead of us, something for us to look forward to, some new plan for us to pursue.

I spent a lot of time struggling with the last chorus of this song. In it, the singer no longer compares God to a pipe bomb, but to a car driver. Who could this be? A chauffeur? The singer’s manager? I’m still not completely certain the exact image the singer is trying to convey, but I’m also not sure that it matters. Because I’ve come to understand the truth behind it.

Yes, sometimes God is disruptive and unsettling like a pipe bomb, but then, he’s encouraging and soothing. He waits for us to catch up to him on his path for our lives, and he stands ready to bring us along for the ride. He’s patient. He’s kind. He’s ready to give us just the little push that we need to take the next step on the wonderful journey he has in store for us.

After the explosion has rocked our lives and the smoke has cleared, God remains. He doesn’t abandon us. Rather, he stays with us and helps us move on. It’s hard when something we thought was going to be good suddenly falls apart, and God understands that. He sympathizes with us and comforts us in those moments. And when we’re ready, he helps us move past those moments so that we can begin to build something new.

When he was on earth, Jesus told his followers, “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6.33). “These things” could mean any number of different things depending who you are and what you need. I think that Jesus used an all-encompassing term to let us know that it doesn’t matter what we feel like we’re missing out on or what needs we have that won’t be met. As long as we’re following after him in humble, obedient faith, he will take care of the rest. And he will give us a life that’s better than anything we could have come up with on our own.

The image of God as a pipe bomb is unsettling. It’s not one we like to think about, but we cannot deny that it’s true. And if we want to truly understand and relate to God, then we have to recognize him in all of his facets. One of the ways that God works in our lives is through tearing down our misguided plans in order to make room for his perfect will. This can feel like the hardest thing we’ve ever endured, but when we feel our lives being shaken by God’s corrective power, we can rest in the fact that he is still with us in the wreckage, and he’s always ready to show us what’s next.