Job Well Done

I’ve been working on fixing up the family room in my house by tearing down paneling and putting up drywall in its place.  Once I finish, I’ll be putting up new trim and crown molding, changing the outlets, and (with much assistance) installing a new French door.

I can see the picture of exactly what I want it to look like in my head.  Crisp, white trim will line the ceiling and floor.  A deep gray color will cover the walls.  And a few rich, dark accents will make everything stand out.  In my head, it looks fantastic.  And with each step I take in the process, the reality around me starts to look more and more like the vision in my head.  It’s exciting.

Although I’m not in a particular rush to get the project done, I don’t want to be staring at exposed mud and tape in September.  Much sooner than that, I should be able to sit down on the couch with a glass of iced tea in hand and say to myself, “Job well done.”

But sometimes my choices betray my vision.  When faced with the choice to climb a rickety step ladder with a drill in hand or to sit on the couch with a remote, I often choose the couch.  And each time I choose the La-Z-Boy instead of the ladder, I am making a choice to not reach my goal.  I am making a choice to give up my vision for another day.

Why would I ever purposely choose to give up my goals?  Why would anyone allow a good, attainable vision simply slide out of reach?

The truth is that we wouldn’t.  We would not so easily give up our dreams if we kept them in front of us.  The problem is that our dreams fall into the background, overshadowed by a hazy fog of ambivalence or pushed to the side by bright flashing distractions that surround us.

We know that we can’t put up drywall while sitting on the couch.  We know that we can’t lose weight by eating donuts.  We know that we can’t advance in our careers without learning new skills.

And we know that we can’t follow Christ without actually doing what he says.  We know that we can’t make disciples if we never speak the truth.  We know that we can’t grow in our relationship with God without reading his word.

We know these things.

But often our actions do not match our goals.

So what’s your goal?  What’s your vision?  Are you making the choices today that will make that vision a reality tomorrow?

Someday soon, I want to put the ladder away and say to myself, “Job well done.”  But more than that, someday soon, I want to hear Jesus Christ say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!  You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.  Come and share your master’s happiness!” (Matt. 25:21 & 23).  Am I living today in a way that will make that a reality?

Finding Rest

It has been months since I have posted anything new to The Worn Tile Floor.  Last August (2011), I officially graduated with a Master of Arts in Theological Studies from Bethel Seminary in Saint Paul, MN.  At the same time, I was learning how to be the father of my now-eight-month-old son, Isaac.  As I was moving on from the grueling burden that seminary had become, I found that new, even more challenging responsibilities were rising up in its place.  Instead of doing homework, I was doing diapers.  Instead of reading scripture, I read Seuss.  Instead of books, I had baby.

Apparently there would be no break after graduating from seminary.  So I took a break from writing.

You’ve been there.  You’ve been in that place where you feel stretched to the point of breaking.  And, perhaps like me, you feel like you haven’t found rest in years.  Just as you think you might get relief, something new, something even bigger rises up to keep you toiling harder than ever.  It becomes exhausting and defeating.

Your life begins to look like a line at a busy amusement park.  If you’ve ever slowly slithered forward in an endless line at one of these parks, you know the fatigue that comes from feeling like you are stuck in place.  If you had been able to see the whole line before you’d committed to waiting there, you probably would have thought twice before slogging through an hour of your time just to enjoy two minutes of loop-de-loops.

But at the biggest parks, you never see the whole line at once.  As you creep forward in line, seeing it grow shorter and shorter in front of you, you start to think to yourself, This isn’t so bad . . . I’m almost there!  And then you turn a corner—and see row after row after row of people waiting in line ahead of you.  Uggh.

Of course, you’ve already waited for ten minutes.  You’d hate to back out now when the goal is only another fifteen minutes away (or so you think—until you round another corner).

Just as the amusement park line never seems to end, so the stresses of your life never seem to let up.  Just when you think you will have a break from the stress or from the drudgery, you turn a corner, and find a whole new set of troubles to weigh you down.  And when you finally do get that break you desire, it often may seem more like a two-minute thrill than a true rest.

For most of us, our two-minute thrills find us seeking entertainment rather than seeking life.  We end up spending our time rather than using it.  And then the moment is gone and the busy routine begins again.

And we never find rest.

That is one reason that it is truly refreshing to be a Christ-follower.  Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).

Just as we find that we have more energy after we exercise (as counter intuitive as it may seem), so we find that as we take more of Jesus’ yoke upon ourselves, our loads actually become lighter.

Only through Christ do our two-minute loop-de-loops become refreshing rather than just distracting.  And only in Christ do our times of waiting become times of rest instead of just times of standing.

All who are weary: Seek rest.  And find it in Christ.

Don't Let Go

“I am watching to see that my word is fulfilled” (Jeremiah 1:12).

God spoke these words to Jeremiah when he commissioned him as a prophet.  In the context of Jeremiah's call, these words carry a deep sense of foreboding.  God had declared that judgment would come to Israel in the form of destruction, exile, and captivity.  Armies would come and invade the rebellious nation and carry the Israelites away from their homes.

The scene is tragic, heartbreaking, and final: “Therefore the earth will mourn and the heavens above grow dark, because I have spoken and will not relent, I have decided and will not turn back” (4:28). 

Judgment is coming.  Period.

“I am watching to see that my word is fulfilled.”

At the same time that those words carry devastating finality, they also offer a great sense of hope.  They offer a second chance.  Although the whole countryside will be torn apart, God will not allow the Israelites to be destroyed completely (4:28).  After years of exile, God will bring restoration (29:10).  He will bring freedom from captivity.

With the promise of judgment comes the promise of rescue.  With the promise of pain comes the promise of protection.  “He who scattered Israel will gather them and will watch over his flock like a shepherd” (31:10).  And he is watching to see that his word is fulfilled.

Some of God’s promises are tough to swallow.  Some are scary to consider.  For example, “If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God” (Hebrews 10:26-27).

Others promises fill us with great anticipation.  They offer hope in the midst of turmoil.  For example: “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him” (James 1:12).  Or the familiar: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Are you running from a promise of God?  A promise that terrifies you and chills your bones?  You’ll need to run much faster, much farther.  Picture a rocket, a bullet, Usain Bolt, a thought, a cheetah, a light—then think faster.  God is watching to see that his word will be fulfilled, and you can’t outrun his gaze.

Are you holding on to a promise of God?  A promise that powers your pulse and centers your sights?  Keep holding tight, with white knuckles and gritted teeth.  Don’t.  Let.  Go.

He is watching to see that his word will be fulfilled.

His word will be fulfilled.

In Debt

I hate debt.

It makes me sick to my stomach.  In 2008, when my wife Mandy and I were planning to buy a home, the thought of being strapped to a monthly mortgage payment for the next thirty years nearly paralyzed me.  By the grace of God, I’d avoided car loans and school loans to that point, but there I was, planning to dive into six-figure debt for the sake of a home.

Even though I believe that we made the right choice in buying the house we did when we did, the debt was and is painful to carry.  Each month, a large portion of our paycheck goes straight into the home, through mortgage, taxes, insurance, utilities, repairs, and upgrades.

Because I hate debt, I made a commitment to get out as quickly as I could.  So we dumped money in to the mortgage by the hundreds and thousands.  If we earned extra cash, if we got a tax rebate, if we received financial gifts, the money went to the mortgage.  The goal was to get out of debt.  Fast.

In fact, I confess that I’ve prayed many times for God to help us pay off our debt within ten years.  I’m not sure if he will help us accomplish that goal, but I’m not shy about telling him that we’d love to live without a mortgage.  I can hardly imagine living mortgage-free, since all I’ve ever known of housing is either paying rent or paying mortgage.  I don’t know many stories of people living without mortgages or rent, but I’d love to be one of those people who are truly free of debt.

But isn’t it ironic how stressed out I get about financial debt, when I’ve created a debt far more significant?  With my mortgage, I owe a bank a few years’ worth of my salary.  And knowing that aggravates me to no end.

But I have a debt far greater than a few years’ salary.  I have a debt against my life.  Instead of borrowing from a bank, I borrowed from God when I sinned against him.  In his perfect righteousness, he demands perfect obedience.  And I failed, and have fallen into debt.

The problem with this spiritual debt is that I can never pay it back.  Even if I were to live the rest of my life performing good deeds—giving all I have to the poor, sharing the gospel with everyone I know, and adopting hundreds of orphaned children—I would still fall short.

The truth is that “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23).  Period.  This debt will not help you start a small business, or get an education, or buy a place to live—it only brings death.  It is serious.  Yet we’ve all sinned (Romans 3:23; 1 John 1:8).  We all carry this debt.  Your neighbor, your mother, your friend, your pastor—all are in debt.

When viewed in this light, the situation is bleak.  The financial crisis that has swept across our country and world over the last few years almost looks bright and cheery compared to the grim picture of our spiritual debt.

This would be a time to despair, except for one thing: there is a way out.

There is one way to be free of this debt.  Not two ways.  Not three.  One.  It is not a payment plan or government buyout.  It does not have any fine print.  It does not require a lawyer or even a pastor to understand.

In fact, for such a serious debt, this one way out is surprisingly simple.  It is a type of debt forgiveness plan.  And rather than pages of legalese, it can really be summed up in just two words: Jesus Christ.

In the same breath that we say “the wages of sin is death,” we can add, “but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23).

Debt forgiveness.  It’s a free gift.  You just have to know the Way (John 14:6).

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.  1 John 1:8-9

Why Six Days?

He could have done it in a day.  In a moment.  He could have snapped his fingers (or even skipped that) and poof the world and all that is in it would have been created.  In one moment, there would be nothing, an open chilling black void, and in the next moment, there would be birds and worms and lava and mushrooms and hot springs and sunshine and . . . .

He could have done it in a moment.  But he didn’t.  According to Genesis 1, on the first day he separated light from dark.  The second, he separated water from sky, and the third, he worked on the land.  He didn’t even create anything living until the fourth day.

Regardless of where one stands in the evolution versus creationism versus intelligent design debate (it doesn’t matter to me whether you believe in six literal days or a figurative timeline), the reality is that God did not whip through his creation in just a moment.  He took his time.

Why?

One reason that I’ve heard suggested is that God took six days to create the world so that it could be an example to us as humans about work and rest.  We work six days, and rest on the seventh (or at least that was the plan).  This example-theory seems reasonable, but I wonder if there is a deeper, more foundational reason why creation took so long: our God is a creative God.

He could have made the world in a moment, but he enjoyed the creative process enough to spend some time working on it.

And thankfully, that creativity is one thing he has passed on to humans, made in his image.

For example, I wanted to have a cool mobile hanging over my son’s crib.  I wanted something other than the fuzzy elephants or bears, swaying in circles above his head.  Besides, why would I want to teach my child that bears and elephants fly?

Of course, I could buy a nice mobile.  It would be the equivalent of me snapping my fingers and poof having a cool mobile.  But enjoying the creative process, I decided to make a mobile on my own. In the end, I decided on something that I thought would be cool and that would have a legitimate reason to be flying through the air.  I decided to make a mobile with World War II fighter airplanes.

So I scoured the Internet to decide which planes to create, day one.  Day two consisted of bending wire hangers into the shape of my chosen planes.  Day three: more wire-bending.  It’s now a couple of months later, and the project is progressing nicely for the limited amount of time I have to work on it.

And best of all, it allows me to express my creativity.  Had I just snapped my fingers and produced a store-bought clone of hundreds of other mobiles, I would not have been as satisfied with the mobile in the same way that I’m already feeling satisfied with my homemade one.

Of course the analogy breaks down when God is the primary creator.  He could have snapped his fingers and still created exactly the same world he created now, whereas my finger-snap method would have only produced a store-bought alternative.

Still, I think the fact that God chose to work through his creation, day by day, word by word, shows his enjoyment in being a part of this world he has created.  He is not just rushing through the process to get it done, but he is taking time in the creative process to work through each stage of the process one at a time.

Rather than needing to take six days to create the world, God wanted to.  God wanted to spend time in creation.  This realization has profound implications for us as we live our lives.

God could treat the world like an assignment, something to work through as quickly as possible.  But instead, God treats the world as his creation, something to work with day-by-day, something to enjoy, something to invest himself in.

And in the end, a creation is much more enjoyable than an assignment.  A process brings more joy than a snap of the fingers.

Spending time with God is inviting him to enjoy his investment into creation.  And it allows you the unique opportunity to enjoy your creator.

Don’t rush through it.

To Run or to QWOP?

Okay, I must admit that while I should have been doing other much more responsible things, like washing the dishes, mowing the lawn, doing the laundry, or even writing, I have been struggling through a couple of simple yet ridiculously-challenging games: QWOP and GIRP.

Both games are surprisingly simple in concept. For example, in GIRP, the goal is to climb a wall.  To climb, the player simply needs to press the letter that shows up on the screen near the climber’s hand, and press another button to flex the climber’s arms.  Yet, as I was playing, my hands would become more and more twisted on the keyboard, until I would accidently let go of the wrong one, and my climber would once again fall into the water.

In QWOP, the letters Q-W-O and P control a runner’s thighs and calf muscles.  Your task?  Just move the legs in the right order to get the running to move forward.  Sounds simple enough, right?  Well, after my first few tries, I had managed to move 1.3 meters forward.  And one time I managed to stumble backwards for 6 meters.  Hardly a success.  Even my best attempt could hardly be called “running”; I extended the right leg out front and kept it there, and then I inched forward with the left knee dragging on the ground behind me for meter after meter.  And I still fell over eventually.

If I compare real-life running to the way I limped forward on QWOP, there’s hardly any comparison.  In real life, running has rhythm, power, movement, and even finesse.  In my QWOP running, there’s some movement, but little else.  

Of course, it is possible to run in a semi-normal rhythm in QWOP, adding rhythm, power, and even finesse back into the motion, but to accomplish this requires careful practice, with a commitment to learning the basics. 

But in my first attempt at playing, I had clearly demonstrated that I’d rather just move forward than learn the basics.  So rather than run, I limped, crawled, and slid.

It seems that I often try to live my life in the same way that I try to play QWOP.  QWOP could be done with finesse, but I’ve skipped finesse because I’ve skipped the basics.  Similarly, in my life there are many ways that I could move forward with grace and confidence, through the power of the Holy Spirit, but instead, I slither and stumble along, having never taken the time to put the correct foot forward.  I work hard, but I don’t get very far.

I’ve allowed myself to become content with moving rather than running.

As with QWOP, in my life, I need to go back to the basics.  But what does that even mean for a Christ-follower?

One way to go back to the basics as a Christ-follower is to learn about God, the creator of the universe, his Son, and learn from the lives of his followers.  Hebrews 11 offers a great summary of faithful, God-honoring men who learned the basics through living with God.  In the process, many struggled with sin, many attempted to just move rather than run, but they also had great successes.  In learning about God’s followers, we can learn more about God.  We can learn the basics.

The author of Hebrews writes:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

As we focus on Christ, as we learn the character of God, as we are filled with his presence, we stop struggling and squirming to move, and we start actually running.  And suddenly, the movement we’ve been working so hard to generate starts to come naturally.  We begin to learn to work with God’s power, rather than our own.  We begin to run.

Let’s get back to the basics.  Let’s learn to run, not QWOP.

Becoming New

My wife and I live in a house that is over sixty years old.  It’s a good house, but with the numerous owners that have moved through it over the years, it definitely has taken on a character beyond what the original builders would ever have imagined.  Over the years, new rooms were added, electricity was rerouted, and new cupboards were professionally installed, among other changes.  Some of the changes have been really positive (we love the cupboards), but many lack the professionalism to be really enjoyable (why do we have two separate phone lines running to the back of our house?).

One of the most fun and most annoying parts of our house is the texture of the walls.  They are made of a type of plaster I suppose (I’ve never seen anything quite like them), and rather than being smooth, they are textured in a unique, eye-catching randomness.  I must admit, that I love the look.  Except I have no idea how to duplicate it.  I’ve repaired drywall before, and it was pretty straightforward: slop some gunk in the holes, smear it smooth, sand it flat, and you’d never know where that broomstick had accidently poked through to the living room.

However, repairing textured walls is not so easy.  Smaller holes blend in to the texture pretty well, but larger areas are hard to hide.  For example, in the 70’s the current owner built an addition on the back of the house.  Suddenly the doublewide patio door was now a single entry door into another part of the house.  The attempted repair of the area was (I’m sure) attempted with great care and frustration, but to no avail.  Forty years later, I still see clearly where a door opening was clearly patched up.  The texture just doesn’t match.

In the three years that we’ve lived here, my wife and I have taken a simple mantra to heart: It’s better than it was before.  We may not be able to match the texture in the corner of that wall, but at least the wall is no longer crumbling to dust.  We may not be able to hide all of the spills and messes from the previous painters, but at least we’ve been able to make it all one color.  We may not have a weed-free yard, but at least there is now more grass than weeds.  It’s better than it was.

It’s a great motto for us.  It keeps us from being extremely frustrated as weekend projects turn into month-long endeavors, as a simple change of an outlet requires hours of reading about how to rewire electricity, as one trip to Menards turns into eleven.  When one of us allows our perfectionist tendencies to sneak in, causing frustration with the lack of perfection in our house, the other just says, “At least it’s better than it was before.”  And then we both smile contentedly.  It is much better than it was.

However, as I think about my walk with Christ, I think I tend to let this motto slip into my thinking far too often.  Did I sin before the Almighty God in the same way for the one hundredth time?  Oh well, at least I’m better than I was.  Did I fail to pray to the Lord of my life about how I should spend my paycheck?  Oh well, at least I pray to him sometimes.  Did I allow myself to be ashamed of the gospel that I have devoted my life to rather than share it with someone who was ready to hear?  Oh well, at least I myself have accepted the gospel message.

My Christian walk has become like an old house being made to be a little better than it was before.  But the Apostle Paul declares that “if anyone is in Christ, he or she is a new creation.  The old has gone, the new has come!” (1 Cor. 5:17).

So far, I’ve been striving to be a better old creation.  I’ve been striving to maintain my same ways of living, and add my faith onto the back, like the addition on the back of my house.  But in my life, like in my house, the patch job stands out, messy and rough.

It’s time to allow Christ to make me new.