Yesterday’s Mysteries, Today’s Normal

I’ll never forget the first time I hooked up a DVD player. It may seem cheesy, but it really was a rite of passage for me, and not just because of my interest in technology. All of my life, my parents had been the ones to set up every gadget that came into our house. They’d connect all the cables, set the TV to the right channel (Was it three or four?), and presto! It worked. To me, it was confusing magic, and I never imagined that I’d be able to master it myself.

Then one day when I was around ten, my family purchased a new DVD player that I wanted to use. Maybe my parents were busy or maybe my curiosity just got the better of me. I’m honestly not sure why I did it, but I opened up the box and started taking things out, piece by piece. Before I knew it, I was plugging the red, white, and yellow cables into their ports, connecting the power, and turning on the TV. Then… presto! Suddenly, the magic was mine to wield.

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Sitting in the back of her minivan as a child, I never really considered how my mom always knew exactly where to go. Whether it was somewhere we went regularly or a place she’d never been to before, she always seemed to know how to get there. I’m not directionally inclined, so I didn’t pay much attention. I would buckle in and start playing a video game or reading until the vehicle came to a stop and it was time to get out. I assumed that my mother, like other adults, just knew where everything was somehow, and that was that.

But when I started driving myself, that naive assumption was immediately shattered. Once it became my job to navigate, it became clear that there is no secret knowledge. Adults don’t magically know where everything is. Rather, we rely on previous knowledge, context clues, and resources like GPS to figure out where we’re going. Add a bit of luck to the mix, and we might just get there safely.

These days, I’m the adult driving my nephew around. As I use whatever means necessary to ensure that we get where we’re going, he sits in the back seat, trusting that I somehow know what I’m doing. He’s in for a big surprise one day when he get his license. But until then, I think I’ll just let him share in the facade that I once believed in.

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Only this year did I get the full experience of what it’s like to own a Christmas tree. Sure, I’ve helped decorate before, but it’s never been my job to make sure that everything looks nice, is taken care of, and gets put away neatly for next year. For me, that’s always been the responsibility of others and, thus, a mystery.

But not this year. Katherine and I are living in our own house now, which means no one else is going to put up a tree for us. So we shopped, we unpacked, and we decorated. And last week, while Katherine was working and my office was still closed for the holidays, I took a Christmas tree down for the first time in my life.

It wasn’t particularly difficult, but it was new. I started with the ornaments, placing them carefully back into their boxes. Then I unwound the strands of tinsel and lights and put them away. And finally, I took the tree apart and stuffed it as gracefully as I could back into the box. A little bit of vacuuming later, I was done.

And as I looked over my work, I felt something I didn’t expect: I was proud of myself. Like I said, taking the tree down wasn’t hard. It didn’t even take as long as I had expected. But it was one of those things I had never done before, one of those things I associated with being an “adult,” one of those things that was a mystery to me until I actually tried it myself. And once I did, I found myself fully capable of handling it.

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Much of what we adults do on a day-to-day basis are things that we could hardly fathom doing as children: cooking, cleaning, working, driving, and the like. They seem so mundane to us now, but not too long ago, they were mysterious. Difficult. Magical, even. And now, they’re just part of our everyday lives.

I’m not saying that we deserve an award for being functional human beings, but maybe we should give ourselves a little more credit. What’s normal for us today was difficult yesterday. Our baseline now is what we pretended to be and strove for when we were younger. The skills we’ve accumulated and the things we’ve accomplished may not seem out of the ordinary, but they are significant. They matter. And we have every right to be proud of them.

You may not be exactly where you want to be, but you’ve come a long way. And if you play your cards right, you’ll be able to look back soon and see even more progress that’s been made. It all starts with recognizing where you are, giving yourself credit for what you’ve accomplished, and building on that success. It’s there if you’ll just look for it. And once you find it, you can use it as a building block towards where you want to go.

So pat yourself on the back from time to time, even if it’s just for something small. That small thing used to be a big thing, and now you’re ready to take on something new. You’ve got this. You’ve come so far. And only you can determine how much further you’ll go.

God bless, friends. Here’s to more mysteries mastered in 2019.

Busyness

At this point, it’s old news that we’re too busy. Our schedules have become so saturated by our responsibilities, commitments, expectations, and plans that we simply don’t have time for anything else. There are only 24 hours in each day, and we fill every single one of them to the brim.

This overcommitment isn’t without consequence. Sleep deprivation is on the rise. (Though if you’re looking for a sound investment, melatonin sales are through the roof.) Stress and anxiety are now baseline parts of life rather than sporadic occurrences. And trying to plan any sort of meaningful time with loved ones is a chore that will drive one to their wits’ end.

Never is our culture’s obsession with being busy more apparent than during the holiday season. We’re rushing from one party to another, stopping in-between to pick up gifts for every person we’ve ever met, trying desperately not to miss a single event or program. From Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day, life is an absolute blur. If you blink, you’ll miss it completely. But again, I’m not telling you anything new.

I’m beginning to give up on the fight against busyness, at least during this time of year. I do my best, but even my time management skills are no match for the constant societal pressure I feel to be constantly go-go-going. Besides, there are too many people I want to see and too many things I want to do. The temptation to never ever stop is real, and I’m not always the best at fighting it.

But not all is lost. I’ve learned that even if I can’t stop being busy all the time, I can at least be selective about what I’m busy doing. If I’m going to be constantly doing things, then they better be the things that matter to me the most. Otherwise, what’s the point in being busy at all?

Prioritization is a difficult skill to learn, but I’m starting to think it’s the key to navigating this tireless world we live in. If we’re going to make our lives meaningful in the midst of all of the stress, noise, and busyness, then we have to know what matters to us, and we have to put those things first. This takes practice. It takes focus. It takes discipline. But it’s doable, and it’s worth it.

It will look different for different people. For some, it may mean literally making an ordered list of the people and things that matter most and then referring to that list when deciding what to commit to. For me, it’s more about learning to say no to the things that aren’t important enough. That may sound cold, but the truth is that if we simply say yes to everything, there eventually won’t be enough room for it all. And if we’re not careful, the most important things may fall through the cracks.

So yes, I’m extremely busy this time of year, just as I’m sure you are. I haven’t figured out how not to be busy yet, but if I do, I promise to write an article about it. In the meantime, I’m practicing discernment in how I choose to be busy in hopes that I can make my busyness mean something. I’d encourage you to do the same so that we can all make this time of year something special for ourselves and those we love.

Contributing

Life is a series of group projects. We learn this early, starting when we’re in school. If you’re like me, you hated group work growing up and looked forward to one day graduating and being responsible only for yourself. Then you got into the job field and—surprise!—literally everything is group work.

We like to think of ourselves as independent creatures, but the truth is that nothing we do is truly a solo effort. Everything we accomplish requires other people on some level. Whether it’s offering advice or support, teaching us something we didn’t already know, or finishing part of a project that we’re unable or too busy to do, we’re constantly collaborating with others in order to achieve our collective and individual goals.

I’m embarrassed to admit that it’s taken me 26 years to realize this, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t accomplish anything worth doing in this life on my own. I need other people in order to make an impact on the world. And you do, too. Because life is a team sport, and we’re going to have to work together to succeed.

But here’s my biggest problem with group work: I never know if I’m doing enough. I don’t see myself as particularly skilled or charismatic or intelligent, and so I often feel like I’m not bringing anything to the table when I‘m working with talented, smart people. I’m a part of the group, sure, but I don’t feel like I’m adding anything of value.

This can lead to feelings of guilt and frustration. I ask myself, “Why am I here? I have nothing to offer.” And when the project’s done and others say nice things about it, I feel wrong taking any sort of credit, so I downplay my involvement. It’s not that I don’t want to be a team player. I just never feel like I’m contributing enough to deserve to be a part.

I used to think this was unique, that I was the only one who struggled with these feelings of inadequacy. But the more people I work with, the more I hear the same thoughts echoed back in the voices of others. It’s almost like we’ve each been programmed to believe that we aren’t good enough, that we’re not doing enough, that we aren’t enough. We carry those insecurities with us when we work with others, and they hold us back.

Because when we feel like we don’t have anything to offer, we don’t offer anything. We don’t step up when the need arises. We don’t take the lead, even when we’re qualified. We stifle our ideas that could turn out to be really helpful innovations. We hold ourselves back, which just leads to even stronger feelings that we aren’t doing enough, and it turns into a vicious cycle.

Here’s the truth, though: You do have a lot to offer. And if you’re worried about doing enough, that means your heart is in the right place. You just have to get past your insecurities and buy in to what the group is doing.

Studies show that the groups who have the most success are the groups with the most diversity. This means that simply by being a part of a group, you are bringing knowledge, experience, and insight that makes the group better. You do so with nothing more than your presence. And the more you give yourself over the group and its vision, the better you make it.

Each of us has been blessed with God-given gifts, talents, interests, and more that others don’t have. We’ve been given these things for a purpose, and that purpose is to make the world a better place. When we allow our insecurities and frustrations to hold us back from using our gifts, we’re depriving the world of something great, and we aren’t living up to our callings.

I’ve found that once I let go of my feelings of inadequacy and really start to believe in something, I can’t help but get swept away in it. I can’t help but dream and come up with ideas for how to make a project better. I can’t hold back the joy I feel when things progress and when the work is finally complete. When I lean in and exercise the gifts God has given me, I become my best self, and everyone is better for it.

You have something to offer. You are making your groups better simply by being a part of them, and you have so much to contribute. So don’t hold yourself back. Let go of the insecurities, trust yourself, lean on your partners, and see how far you can go. I know it works because I’ve been learning how to do it, too, and I can assure you that it’s well worth it.

Thanks for reading, friends! I’ll see you next week.

The Blame Game

The human brain is a funny thing. And one of its greatest quirks is that it will do anything—absolutely anything—to force a situation to make sense. People are meaning-makers. We crave understanding. And no matter what scenario we find ourselves in, we want to understand the “Why?” behind it and how it fits into our preconceived notion of how the world works.

This is why when things go wrong, we immediately start searching for a culprit. We want something or someone to blame for the problems we’re facing. Even when a situation is completely out of human control, we still rack our brains searching for ways the fault must lie with someone. Our brains simply aren’t satisfied until we can form an explanation and pin the blame somewhere.

I was recently reminded of my own susceptibility to this bias when facing an issue at my job. As I work with technology, I spend a lot of my time working out problems both small and large, and this one was a doozy. After frantically trying everything I knew to solve the problem and coming to the conclusion that it was bigger than I could handle on my own, I suddenly heard a voice. Not a heavenly voice, mind you. It was my internal voice, speaking as loudly and persistently as I’ve ever heard it before. And what it said was this:

”This is your fault.”

I’ve heard that statement from my inner voice a million times before, and every single time, I believe it. If only I’d done something differently, I wouldn’t be in this mess. If I were smarter or better at what I was doing, I wouldn’t have found myself here. If I weren’t such a failure, this wouldn’t have happened. And on and on.

It doesn’t matter if the situation is actually my fault or not. It doesn’t matter if the problem was caused by someone else or something outside my control or even pure circumstance. My brain can find a way to make anything my fault because it has to find someone to blame. Why not me?

Often, we think that we’re a lot more in control of situations than we really are. And often, we’re a lot more willing to offer grace and the benefit of the doubt to others than we are to ourselves. All this, combined with our need to understand our surroundings, can result in a vicious cycle of self-blame where we come to the conclusion that everything is our fault and tear ourselves down for it.

But, as I often have to remind myself, there’s no need for it to be this way. Because more often than not, that voice is a lie. There are so many things that happen to us that are outside of our control, and it’s pointless to blame ourselves in those situations. And even if something is our fault, it’s much more productive to focus on solutions rather than what cause the problem in the first place. Sure, we should learn from our experiences, but constantly berating ourselves teaches us nothing. It’s useless. And we don’t have to do it.

You don’t have to listen to that inner voice that tells you it’s all your fault. You don’t have to believe it when it says you aren’t good enough. You don’t have to put up with the self-berating and abuse.

What if, instead, we granted ourselves the same grace we share with others? What if we gave ourselves the benefit of the doubt? What if instead of saying, “This is your fault,” we told ourselves, “I forgive you even if you are to blame”? How much more could we accomplish? How much healthier and happier and more fulfilled could we be?

Right now, I’m working hard to learn how to show myself grace even when my inner voice says I don’t deserve it. To let myself off the hook for things that aren’t my fault and to forgive myself for the things that are. If you could use a little more of that, I’d encourage you to practice it today. You never know how far a little (self-)forgiveness can go.

Countdown to Christmas

I don’t know a lot about Advent. The churches I grew up in never celebrated it. Until I got to seminary, my only exposure to the season was through Advent calendars, which dispensed little gifts each day leading up to Christmas. They would count down the days, each one getting a little bit closer to the big one. To me, it was all about getting through the calendar as quickly as possible so that I could get to the real gifts. Advent was nothing more than something to rush through on the way to Christmas.

Now, I know that Advent is really the opposite of that.

The season we’re about to enter is not about rushing. Rather, it’s about anticipation. The difference there may be subtle, but it’s important. When we’re looking forward to something, we can take one of two paths: We can barrel towards it as quickly possible, skipping everything in between. Or, we can wait patiently for it, savoring the excitement that comes with anticipating something wonderful.

Practicing anticipation takes focus. This season offers so many distractions, from the sales to the parades to the elaborate decorations to the parties and everything in between. And I’m not saying that any of those things are bad. They’re all meant to celebrate something very good: the birth of Christ. But they are not the thing itself, and it’s important to remember that fact. In the midst of all of the fanfare, it’s much too easy to forget what it’s all about, and that’s where anticipation comes in.

It also takes patience. Just as Mary waited lovingly for her baby to be born, just as the angels stood by with bated breath to sing their song of praise, just as creation itself sat still and silent before the entry of the eternal God into its earthly midst, so we wait for the day that we can participate in their celebration. The birth of Christ is a cause for great joy, and it is even more so once we’ve participated in the anticipation of those who came before us.

I’m still learning what it means to practice anticipation in the season of Advent. The church offers many helpful resources and guides that I hope to dive into in time. But no matter what, I’m choosing to commit myself to practicing anticipation this season as I look forward to celebrating Christ’s birth on December 25.

Maybe you’d like a little more anticipation in this season, too. It doesn’t mean we have to give up the songs, movies, gifts, and treats. (I’m certainly not.) But it does mean that we approach these things in a different way. Rather than rushing through to Christmas or trying to make it last a month or more, why don’t we simply savor the anticipation and look forward to Christ’s arrival together?