5.21.2012

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?

3.07.2012

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.