Vol III: #18 What’s My Motivation?

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I have an ethic that says “don’t brag or talk about what you do.” And, whenever I violate this personal law, I feel like a real douche. For example, this post was going to be about my frequent trips to the Bethel Prayer Chapel. Three sentences into the post, I deleted everything because of lingering questions: should you be talking about your spiritual habits? And, Isn’t that something you should keep to yourself?

And, didn’t Jesus say “when you give, don’t let the right hand know what the left hand is doing?” And, cover yourself when you fast and pray in the dark? (Basically, the first half of Matthew 6 Jesus addressed how the Father sees people who pray and give to be noticed by people. The reward for such behavior isn’t from the Lord but men.) I think Jesus is clear about how to be a braggy douche bag.

The question I want to answer is what’s my motivation? In this situation, I wanted to discuss how prayer time can be a slog. Even with when I have a peaceful place and a comfy seat, some days I just stare out the window and mutter whatever comes to mind. Eventually, I’ll read my scriptures and focus on gratitude. My main point is I show up. And some days, I encounter the Lord in amazing ways. And some days, it isn’t so amazing. What I do believe is, a) the Lord is always with me and encountering me- whether I feel it or not, and b) the fruit of endurance is some of the sweetest there is. I reap the rewards of making that drive to the Prayer Chapel everyday.

So, what’s douchey about that? First, I hear a small voice in my head saying you don’t know what it’s like to have kids or wait till you’re married or isn’t that cool for you. To these thought I respond, I hope I never stop putting the Lord first. And, the spiral continues as I start to be more defensive are you saying the parents and people you know who don’t spend time with the Lord every morning are wrong?!? No. I’m not saying that. Of course, I’m not.

The truth is, I hope my life does look a lot different than most. I’m not trying to live a normal life- whatever that is. But, I watch tons of people struggle through life, disconnected from the Holy Spirit, and I don’t want to replicate that frustration. The Lord is my source and my life turns really dark without Him, which is my larger point. Even when life hits a lull, it’s better when Jesus than without. And, that’s not douchey.

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Vol III: #17 Blogging to Blog

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I lost a bit of blogging mojo and I think it coincides with my book writing effort. After a few hours of free-hand writing, blogging is a slog. The process is slower than before and I struggle to come up with topics- feels more like an obligation than a play-place. Then, I ask myself questions like does anyone really want day-to-day updates on my life and thoughts? All of which alarms me, because I can’t imagine a life without this space.

It helps to remember why I do this. I do this for them, whoever they will be. Someone needs to read about this lull-of-Nik’s-life in late 2022. That time he didn’t want to blog, while loving his blog, but not feeling it at the time. So…I should post my Biblical discoveries and life experiences, even if they are common or know. Most of life is known and common.

Here’s to being common and mostly known. There’s beauty in that.

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Vol III: #16 Education and Testimonies

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When you read the books after Deuteronomy, you read a sad and repetitive history of the children of Israel. They are often violent and prone to worship other gods. Occasionally, a king will “follow in the way of his father David” but most were like Saul or Solomon. They did what was right in their own eyes and the so did the people. For this reason, we have a divided kingdom- Judah and Israel- with separate kings. And, this division almost certainly led their defeat and eventual exile.

Furthermore, I noticed scripture recounts “the promise made to Abraham” and the “exodus from Egypt” and other testimonies of the Lord’s faithfulness. And then today, I read 2 Kings 22 about “the lost book.” Most scholars assume it was part of Deuteronomy, but we can’t be sure. What we do know is King Josiah responded to the scripture with vigor. He knew Israel had long departed from the Way. He knew he was not taught to keep the Lord’s commandments. And so, he made it right. First Josiah repented to the Lord and then he tore down idols and smashed the high places.

For some reason, I find this story fascinating. I assumed all children were taught the Law and how to follow it. It’s easy to forget, education did not exist then as it does today. But still, I pictured a classroom with the Ten Commandments on the back wall, a stern headmaster, and little yeshiva students, tassels and curls neatly arranged, ready to study the Torah. I thought that’s what all Israelis did after they left Egypt. Apparently, not. People learned on the job and only what they needed to know. By the rule of Josiah, the average Israeli worshipped Baal because their parents worshipped Baal. They knew little of the Exodus or their Covenant with the Father. (And, consider that Josiah came 350 years after David. To put it into more perspective, 350 years ago from today is 1672!)

What’s important is the people the Lord called to be His own didn’t know who He was or what He wanted. They didn’t know their history or what the Covenant means. In this light, the bust/boom cycle of Israeli history is easy to understand. The question I have now is “how do I avoid the cycle?”

The answers seem obvious and light-hearted. The first is to read scripture. Check. The second answer to follow the Lord’s lead in my life. Check-for the most part. And finally, the last answer to recall the goodness of the Lord in my life. I never want to forget the blessings and gifts the Lord gives and has given to me, and to the people around me. In this way, the goodness and glory of the Father is always before me, in scripture, and my life.

I’m reminded of when Paul says “if there is anything that is ·good [morally excellent] and worthy of praise, think about [focus your thoughts on; fill your minds with] these things.” Isn’t this what Paul meant? I know I’ve struggled to think “what is good.” But, it’s not that hard. I get to think about the time my knee needed major reconstruction surgery and then seemed to be healed. I get to be thankful for all the wonderful people that Lord put in my life. This is how we win at life, by focusing on what is and what was good.

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Vol III: #15 Good Examples

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I like heroes and champions as much as anyone. But, they can feel untouchable. Dabo Swinney- the championship winning football coach at Clemson- has charisma. Colin Powell was disciplined. Heidi Baker has more faith and courage than I do. And, Van Gogh was f*cking nuts, which is a different sort of untouchable. Sometimes, I need to see someone like me succeed. I want to know that my dreams aren’t fantasies.

Fortunately, I have a few great people in my life, folks like me. I know their stories and what they’ve endured. They aren’t the most qualified, educated, wealthy, or charismatic. They just went to work. They believe in themselves and the Holy Spirit guiding them. And, I’m grateful to be a witness. I’ve seen the struggles and battles. Now, I see them in their triumphs. I get to watch them lift trophies(metaphorically speaking) and enjoy the fruit of their sacrifices.

Tomorrow, I’ll dive into the specifics of what I gleaned. For today, I’ll let this be about gratitude. That’s good enough.

Also, to rant for a sec, America is still the Land of Opportunity. We just live in the Age of Lazy.

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Vol III: #14

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Over stimulated. That’s my state of mind this Monday in early September. So, I’m going to roll it and give you, my reader, an insight into the types of thoughts and emotions I encounter when I feel this way. (Let’s see how this goes.)

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The air conditioning is loud.

I think I drank too much coffee.

I can feel my eyes. They seem to be bulging but I know it’s just the coffee.

My hair still feels wet, but it isn’t wet. Just cold, which can often feel wet to the touch.

The apartment still smells like the baguettes I tried to bake yesterday. Need to work on that recipe.

I usually like Mondays but not today. It’s not like anything bad has happened, I just didn’t look forward to this week.

Does that mean something is wrong? Maybe not. Not everything has to mean something.

Change is hard.

I should’ve finished that book Kirk gave in 2020. I still can.

Is this really a way to write a blog post?

Yes, Nik. It is.

Six months. I’m making a big six month push. Started a few days ago. And the end date is March 8th. Didn’t pick that day, but there it is.

I expect my productivity to be significantly higher on that day.

One grind (day) at a time.

Silence can be a blanket or a terrorist.

In, out. Breathing is fun.

That Bob Ross bobble head looks good on my bookshelf.

Human dynamics are complex. How dare anyone pretend to understand what a human is.

I hate nihilism.

I feel fat.

The sandwich I made earlier was fantastic.

I spend too much time in my head. Too many fantasies.

Criticism is only good if it empowers a person or ends abuse or violence.

This exercise helped focus my thoughts and center my emotions.

Thoughts are more clear than they were ten minutes ago.

Definitely feel less chaotic.

I should fold my laundry and empty the dish washer.

I need to treat writing and drawing as the passions they are rather than tasks to cross off a list.

If I can learn to grind, I’ll be unstoppable.

Glad I did this. I won’t edit this.

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Abstract: New Songs

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When did I forget how to sing the songs of my soul,

to treasure my lyrics and the price I paid to sing them?

Why would I trade my call for a blanket,

and my gifts for soup?

How long will I sing this song?

The song of a dreamer, but not a doer.

I want to belt out new tunes,

of victory and triumph and praise.

It’s time I moved on, off into the working man’s delight,

and the obscurity of the grind.

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Short #4: That Day

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I was on the carpet and engrossed in a cartoon, as as was my after school routine. I was likely half through an episode of Thunder Cats or Gummi Bears when my brother told me to go outside with him. He said he was going to teach me how to play football and I followed. The day was perfect for a new beginning. Autumn in the midlands of South Carolina is glorious and filled with long afternoon shadows and cool evenings. And, that day was a perfect fall day in Columbia. The low sun cast her shadows on the drive way as my brother began his lecture.

Over that afternoon, my brother taught me about offsides, the line of scrimmage, and several pass patterns. I inhaled every word he spoke and eagerly responded to his coaching. By the end of the day we played our very first game of two-hand touch. I was hooked. Part of it was the time I spent with my brother- I considered him my hero then- and part of it was the game. It’s elegant and ridiculous and altogether perfect.

Not long after that day, our front lawn became the neighborhood gridiron. One end zone was the concrete drive way while the other was a row of azalea bushes in the neighbor’s yard. We kicked extra points through two skinny pine trees and used the flower gardens as extra blockers. My brother, when he played with us, was all-time quarterback, meaning he played QB for both teams. He was bigger and faster than the rest of us and having him on one team was a substantial benefit to that team.

Retrospectively, I tip my cap to my 13 year-old brother and the amazing job he did that day. He taught a six-year old the basic rules of a complex game in an afternoon. It’s gift to be able to teach with such patience and forethought. I know what a safety is because he told be to tackle him in the end zone during that first game. He yelled at me as he stood behind the goal line. I had run down field to cut off his angle and didn’t know I could “tackle” him in the end zone. Two points to me.

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Vol III: #13 Competition Is My Jam

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When I was a kid, I completed my tests and quizzes as fast as possible. This practice usually resulted in one wrong answer per exam but I was happy with time for points exchange. So far as I was concerned, an A is an A, and the only real challenge was being first to finish. I got more joy out of being the first to turn in my test than the result.

Three months ago, on our Revival Group Day, our leaders split us into groups and we competed against each other in a series of summer camp-like races and events. After the first event of potato walking (place a potato between your knees, walk across the room, then drop the potato into a bucket, without using your hands), my group was dead last and a small part of me seethed over the result. In the next three competitions, we finished second, first, and first. And, when the points were tallied to confirm what we knew. Though we started in last place, we won the whole competition.

When the winning group was announced, I burst into a sprint as I held my index fingers high- you know, to remind my classmates who finished number one. I laughed the laugh of winner and genuinely enjoyed the win. And, as I neared the end of my victory lap, a thought scrolled across my mind “I love to compete.” And, so I do.

Today, I talked to the Lord about the next six months of my life. I want to be productive and hit my goals. And, to be vulnerable, I don’t have a lot of hope in myself. I know I need structure and accountability. Structure is easy enough to procure- set goals, break them down into achievable steps, then add a timeline. The first year of this blog is perfect example of that process. But, I have not yet been able to transfer that success into other areas of my life which is why the conversation with the Lord this morning was so critical. He reminded me of my successes and what motivates me.

What drives me is competition. And, I love to win. How did I not know this about myself? It seems obvious now, but it wasn’t three hours ago. And, when I think back to favorite life victories, most of them include some sort of competition or test. And as ever, and in His time, I feel like the Lord gave me a very important key, which I will figure out how to use to His glory.

I admit I gave up being competitive because it’s seen as undesirable and even sinful. (The world really will beat you down, eh? Into a wet-towel glump of inoffensive nothingness? And, I bought into it.) The truth is people who get things done are offensive to someone. They set goals, push themselves, and compete. And, I want to get shit done.

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Vol III: #12 All The Feels

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The last woman I dated hit a wall about three months into our relationship. And through the final two months, she fought her feelings and dreadful thoughts to stay in the relationship before she finally relented. The feels were gone and she was left with a choice. And, she chose to bail. Like many people, she didn’t have the faith to see or love to endure a committed romantic relationship. And, I’m grateful we broke up- grateful in knowing my days are not tied to someone incapable of commitment or hope.

I will always have a reservoir of compassion for my ex-girlfriend, and all the people who struggle to overcome emotional addictions. It helps that I struggle too. The feelings fight is real, especially when our reactions are visceral. We tend to trust our feelings over logic or principles. And, this is one of the traps of our age.

One my heroes, CS Lewis, stated the enemy’s use of feeling this way in The Screwtape Letters:

The simplest is to turn their gaze away from Him towards themselves. Keep them watching their own minds and trying to produce feelings there by the action of their own wills. When they meant to ask Him for charity, let them, instead, start trying to manufacture charitable feelings for themselves and not notice that this is what they are doing. When they meant to pray for courage, let them really be trying to feel brave. When they say they are praying for forgiveness, let them be trying to feel forgiven. Teach them to estimate the value of each prayer by their success in producing the desired feeling; and never let them suspect how much success or fail.

I mauled over this passage for the last two years. And, I tried to find the space between being led by my feelings and honoring them. Feelings are from the Lord too, right? And, what would life be without being able to feel peace or love or gratitude or grief? Since all good things are from the Lord, and emotions are from the Lord, then our feelings are inherently good. I want to experience pain and joy, but not be led by them.

More important to my post today is the idea that the most powerful and grand aspects of the Lord’s Kingdom have nothing to do with feelings. Faith and love aren’t feelings. Peace isn’t a feeling. Love isn’t an emotion. They are a way to live life and they do not need the assistance of feelings.

What is good is always good, regardless of how we feel about it. The perverse thing is when the enemy confuses people so much they question the importance and critical natural of family or endurance. And how many arguments sprouted from hurt feelings loosely based on fact? A former roommate exploded when he thought I was ignoring him. It wasn’t true, of course. The episode exposed lingering abandonment issues deep within my friend. He let his feelings dictate his thoughts and actions.

I’ve been at peace, loved, and moving in faith without the feelings. AND, I’ve seen the Lord move during these moments. To be fair, the Lord moves all the time. He doesn’t make decisions on what I feel, which is good. I’ve felt a lot of feelings and if the Lord responded to all of them…He wouldn’t be God. He’d be some codependent, wannabe-deity, like a Greek god. The good result of putting feelings and emotions in a proper place is the overwhelming confidence that comes with faith and hope. I accept the ideas of: I will fail, I will offend people, I will hurt people, and life will try to hurt me*. Oh, well. I choose to stay committed to the Lord and not keen to what may offend me.

I will also love people well and build community around honor and generosity. What I leave behind as my legacy will be greater than my mistakes.

*I certainly do not intend to hurt anyone or be hurt. But, that’s life. We hurt each other. Thank the Lord for grace and kindness and forgiveness.

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Vol III: #11 Happy Birthday To Me

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Yesterday was my 42nd birthday. I went to pray and did a bit of work but mostly chatted with friends or family. For dinner, I was invited over by the Nisly’s for miso soy meatballs and vanilla ice cream with oreo cookies. And toward the end of my visit, Kaiten Nisly asked,”What was your favorite moment from the last year of your life?” My mind whirled as I thought back to August 29th, 2021.

A year ago, I had lunch with a friend at a most excellent Korean restaurant. The chicken wings were crunchy and spicy and the beef noodle soup was rich and layered with flavor. A few days later, I began school at BSSM which brought a slate of new friends. After Christmas, COVID got me, twice. Then, I traveled over the summer and now I’m here writing this blog. My 42nd year of life was, by my standard, eventful and important. In the attempt to answer my friend, I was unable to find a memory more grand than all others. Contrary to these thoughts, my mind continued.

The answer to the question became more obvious once I settled on it. My favorite moment isn’t a specific time or place but a change. I’m more grateful and hopeful than ever. And, I see it when I’m able to appreciate and enjoy a moment as it’s happening. My thoughts have also changed, from searching for flaws and critiques to looking to discover what’s good and life-giving.

I was able to appreciate yesterday because of what happened instead of what didn’t happen. And, I was grateful for every “Happy Birthday” text and chat. It’s a good way to spend a birthday.

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Vol III: #10 Faith of the Witnesses

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Have you read the Book of Hebrew? The first nine chapters are a bit boring. The author- often believed to be Paul- knew the Old Testament. And, they used that knowledge to build a case for Jesus as the Messiah and what his life means and represents. Chapter 7 features a weird reference to Melchizedek before moving onto a “New Covenant.”

But then, Chapter 11 happens. The author began with a soaring definition of faith, as the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. From there, they chronicle from Adams to David the faith of the Saints: Noah to build a boat, Abraham to follow the whisper into the wilderness, and Rahab to recognize and serve the Lord. The close of this epic chapter reminds us those who live by faith will suffer. But, we are part of a great Kingdom. Each one of us is a link and we will join the Great Cloud of Witnesses.

It hit me, as I read the latter chapters, faith isn’t a feeling. Faith is world view and life style.

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Vol III: #9 Thanks for the Heat

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The sun over Redding is relentless today. This time of year, it always is. Days are long and cloudless with the only reprieve coming early in the morning before the sun has a chance to set the day ablaze. I’ve come to cherish each morning for the blessing it is. And, I find strength in knowing the peak of the heat is over as we march onward to autumn and the coolness the new season will bring. Thank God for cycles and seasons and the opportunities they alone provide.

We humans are intent on shaping Nature to our will despite the best plan being to work with her. When the days are shortest and drool on with rain and mist, all I need do is recall the warmth to come in late spring and my mind is refreshed by knowing this chill shall pass. And though I can buy strawberries any time of year, they taste sweetest in the spring when it right they should do so. Thank God for the heat and the bugs it destroys, and for air conditioning, and the Fall to come.

Every season has a reason for thanksgiving and hope and joy.

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