Ri$k

Ever since I was a little guy I've not had much trouble being a saver. When I was given money as a gift, I typically resisted the burning in my pocket that cried out for discretionary spending. My Dad took care of that urging the day my allowance stopped when I was about 9 years old. Falling victim to the Ice Cream Man's 8-track tape's siren song yet again, I bought my last allowance funded baseball card/bubble gum packet after Dad's financial advisement was to do otherwise. Dad cut me off the family till that day and I never once again drew another dime of allowance money from his wallet. The irony now being that some of those very cards I bought then are now worth more individually than the sum total of all my allowances combined! I probably ought to sell even just one of those cards and give my Dad a really nice gift for the great lesson he taught me that day.

While I was always willing to save money for things I wanted from then on, some of that propensity for saving gave way to the lure of credit cards in later life. While I've never been held hostage by revolving credit, I have tended more toward a "buy it now, pay it off at the end of the month" mentality. That can be a little risky but to this day, barring any unforeseen circumstances, there is always satisfaction in seeing a zero balance on those accounts at the end of the month.

In more recent years, hitting mid-stride financially has afforded the opportunity at more risky financial ventures. Far, far from venture capitalist status, being able to roll just a few dollars into higher risk opportunities has been an interesting adventure. Not really a business section reader or a stock ticket watcher myself, I tend toward more spiritual interests. Consequently, I've left my higher risk investing to the hands and minds of trusted individuals who actually make their living risking other people's money. Monthly and quarterly statements have provided a thrilling kind of satisfaction in watching my money work for me. Until recent financial times... Now I watch with mouth gaping amazement and wonder if I'll ever see another "+" sign again?

Now the adage "the higher they rise, the harder they fall" seems to be the cry of the day. The higher the risk profile, apparently the deeper the subsequent losses. One advantage of being my current age is that I might have the fortunate opportunity of seeing those numbers bounce back in the next few years. For other more senior risk takers, those who ride the thrill induced side of investing, may not see "whoopee" numbers return again in their lifetime. I feel for those folks. I have thoughts of selling one of those cards to try and help one of them out... but there's not much of a market left for spectacular aged rookie cards these days either.

Risk always means the potential for loss. In the last year, the profile for my spiritual investing has been running at a relatively high clip. In my intentions to find God at deeping levels, He has led me to raise the bar in my relationships with others. In doing so, I've discovered a whole new level of risk. Any time we extend ourselves fully (or as fully as humanly possible at the time) there is risk involved. We risk giving something that may not come back, even in a lifetime or more.

Somewhere in the relationship markets of life we tend to anticipate a dollar-for-dollar return on our investments. We give "so much" to another individual and we expect "so much" (or maybe even more) in return. In some cases, we're not willing to go any deeper into our personal portfolios if we can't be sure we'll get a good return on our investment. But sometimes it just doesn't work out in a way that we get back what we give.

Tennyson once wrote, "I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost; Than never to have loved at all."

I have to wonder how many times Tennyson saw the bottom side of that investment portfolio? It only takes once to feel the pain. To love and to not have one's love returned in equal portion (nor even at all) is not a quick-market recovery. To fully invest in love's market means to lay it all on the line at considerable risk. To roll in that market, you have to be willing to go "all-in" and be willing to lay it all on the line.

Jesus invests in the same markets. "...who for the joy set before Him..."(Hebrews 12:2) is what is said of how Jesus endured the shame and pain of the cross. While it is perhaps easier to hear those words knowing that His suffering secured the redemption of any soul who is willing to accept Him as Savior, it is not easy to hear those words when we consider all those who simply reject what Christ has done for them -- those who perhaps will never accept His love. The price was paid no less for them. He risked it all first, even when we say "no thanks" and walk away.

I'm coming to realize the only way we can ever truly experience the fullest capacities of love is to risk it all for the sake of it. It is likely the greatest risk to give all you are and all you have to someone else. Too often we take much less aggressive risks to assure that at least we have something left to call our own when the bell sounds at the end of relational exchanges and trading -- even if we are rejected. But can we say we have fully loved when we keep something of ourselves out of the relational market?

To love like God loves is an all-in risk. We must chance risking with possibly no return on the investment. "For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son..." That is the ultimate investment risk. For those who accept it, it is a risk we are eternally grateful He was willing to take.

We will do well when we are willing to risk loving the same way.

How I Feel

I've prayed for as long as I can remember. Well into "mid-life" now (okay, more into it than I'd care to admit) I think back on my early days of prayer. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. God bless Mommy and Daddy and..." and so it would go. And so it goes?

I don't exactly remember when my prayers changed, but they did. My prayers became more direct, less rhythmical and likely less innocent. They were more "mature" to be sure, but left little room to speak praise to the Creator celebrating all the amazing things He has done, is doing or will do and even less room for Him to speak. Too often, my prayers rolled into instant requests ("petition" is the churchy word for it) -- as if I were peeling off some divine shopping list -- I would sit, sometimes kneel, rarely stand... to tell God everything I wanted but rarely, if ever, gave Him room to speak.

One day though I heard from Him. It wasn't necessarily a voice as classically defined, but He definitely spoke and our conversations changed again. Now while the words were the same, the movements were different, stronger, better, more passionate... filled with wonder and awe. Then... one day... we spoke differently, still. Rather than me telling God only what I wanted (knowing that He could -- and maybe would -- provide my request)... I told Him how I felt.

I waiting to hear from Him again... and I waited some more... and waited still. I waited so long I thought maybe He had forgotten me. I waited and wondered if my feelings had somehow offended Him. Then, one day He spoke again. It was not a "yes" or a "no" about something I wanted (or even needed)... God spoke about how I felt and He mentioned how He felt, too. The experience still brings tears to my eyes because it was so real and so personal. Sharing feelings between the two of us.

What is true about prayer I'm finding is true in some of the most important relationships in my life. I can hear what people want and I may even be fortunate to hear what they need. But how often do we share how we feel? Sharing feelings opens up the deepest places inside us. It lets someone into the chambers of self where we can be most afraid. Places we usually keep locked up and guarded. Rejecting what I want (or even need) is one thing. But rejecting how I feel, dismisses the very essence of who I am. It is scary to share how we feel.

You can tell me what you want and not go very deep with me. You can share what you need and we'll get closer once you trust I won't reject you for being honest. But tell me how you feel and we begin finding deep relationship. Share with me how you feel and we can experience unimaginable things!

Whether in prayer or in the most important relationships of life, it is important to share how we feel. God waits to share relationship - intimacy - with us at every level. There are at least a few people in life who want the same thing with you, but you've got to be willing to risk going there with them.

God loves you more than you can imagine. Some people in your life love you more than you can imagine, too. But if you don't trust them with how you really feel, how will you ever really be close?

Please... tell me how you feel.

Bumps

I ride motorcycles. There is little about riding motorcycles that I don't like, but one thing I can do without are the "bumps." You know... the "bumps" in the road: speedbumps, uneven pavement, frost heave, or any other form of "bumps" -- I find completely annoying. Hit a frost heave at a significant clip and the "fun" really begins.

There are plenty of parallels between motorcycling and life. There are enough parallels that were I to include them all here, you'd be clicking to the next blog faster that you will anyway! But at the risk of having you jump in the passing lane and leave this entry behind, I'd like to offer a quick observation.

If "Life is a Highway" (as suggested by the lyrics of Tom Cochran and sung better (in my opinion) by Rascal Flatts) then it is going to have some bumps, too. And here is the paradox between life and motorcycling. While I generally "hate" the bumps on the bike, I am learning to embrace the bumps of life because the outcome is typically much more reliable than when I am riding.

Similar to riding though, it is always wise to cast your vision in life as far down the road as possible. But there are bumps in life we simply can't anticipate and even when we can anticipate them, what we choose to do with the disruption is a function of wisdom and maturity.

Today, a portion of my life hit a good sized bump and I realize I'm going to land on both wheels (though maybe not at the same time -- and when it is the front wheel hitting the ground first that's REALLY exciting). The thing I'm trying to remember is to keep the throttle on, adjust to the landing and just keep on riding. It's a bump... and that's life (and riding).

On Purpose

As popular as Rick Warren's book, "The Purpose Driven Life" has become (I recently heard it has become the greatest selling book of all time other than the Bible) I wonder how many of us are really living "on purpose."

It seems from childhood we're oriented away from purposeful living. I can't imagine how many times I did something wrong and then tried to defend myself with the phrase, "But I didn't do it on purpose!" While that never seemed to get me off the hook of trouble, it may have been a telling sign of things to come.

To live "on purpose" is no easy thing. Consider Rick's book, and the accompanying Purpose Driven Journal, and Purpose Driven Daily Calendar, and the Purpose Driven Night Light (okay, I made that last one up...I think), the purpose of each of those resources is to help people live "on purpose." More than great marketing, the vast selection of "Purpose Driven" products indicates we need tools and resources to live on purpose. We need reminders to live "on purpose" and even if we are reminded to find our purpose and then live it... the bottom line is it requires a bunch of hard work to do it.

Life is much easier when lived simply on "cruise control" or "auto pilot." There is little thought required about what we've been or what we're becoming. But living on purpose requires a ton of effort and some much needed resources. One of the things we need to live on purpose is intimacy with the Creator (He is the One who ultimately knows what we're created to be). If we avoid intimacy with the One who made us, then it is much easier to avoid who we really are.

Living on purpose also demands personal integrity and honest self-evaluation. Those long stares in the mirror of self-reflection (even actually physically staring into a mirror long enough to deal with yourself is a powerful experience -- for more on this, see my blog entry on Sept. 22, 2008) can be a sobering. Not only taking the inevitable criticism from others, but inviting input from friends and trusted advisers is necessary to see ourselves for who we really are and to be more aware of who and what we're becoming.

To have those things in your life are as blessed as they are necessary and sometimes you have to go find them. I've not always been one who sought out critical input, but over the years I've seen myself move from resisting it to actually welcoming and inviting it. I have some of the best friends and confidants ever, who love me enough to be honest about what they see in me and are willing to walk with me toward being better. I have found space in my life that allows me to test who I'm becoming without rejection. All of those things are not only necessary for my life, they have been put there on purpose.

Though we all make too many mistakes, when we do make them, there is no need to say, "I didn't do it on purpose." Living a life "on purpose," we acknowledge our mistakes for what they are and then move on purposefully. Not everyone wants to allow us to do that. Some will hang our mistakes over us or never let them go. If that is the case, the burden falls to them to figure out their purpose, not to you. There is only one Judge and we can be assured, it isn't the person that won't let you forget your mistakes, especially those mistakes that were made when trying to live on purpose.

Every step we take, good or bad, is one step closer to a life lived on purpose. So keep moving along, my friend... we have lives to live, on purpose!

Resolute

New Year's resolutions are highly overrated. Part of the reason is because far too often the burden of fulfilling the resolution falls solely to the individual making the resolution. We resolve on our own what should be or should do and then we are left to make the resolution a reality (often in isolation). Typically, the net result is failure within a matter of days, if not weeks and the guilt of a "broken resolution" is the remnant of great intentions.

I'm convinced "commitments" are a better path, especially commitments made in community (with other people). In a community of others we lean on their love and support not only to fulfill a commitment we've made, but we can actually utilize the community's input to discern what the commitment ought to be in the first place. Other people can see who we really are sometimes better than we see ourselves.

Left to myself, I'll too often make commitments (or resolutions, New Year's or otherwise) that are simply too comfortable or too easy to attain. For example, if I make a commitment to go to the gym and work out 4 days a week, but I'm already working out 3 days a week, that commitment isn't too big a stretch. Additionally, it won't make a HUGE difference in my physical conditioning (unless I'm an elite athlete) in that one day's absence or presence in the gym.

Relationally, spiritually, developmentally... we do the same thing. We take a path of "least resistance" in our personal development and then fall short of what we are fully capable of achieving. How many relationships (friendships, marriages, teams, etc.) stay "stuck" at an immature level because no one pushes for something greater? How many spiritual "giants" never grow into their potential because no one steps into their life and challenges them to greatness? How many skills or gifts go untapped because no one was invited (or had the courage to say something) to support them into reality? We need to be resolute toward something more than resolutions!

In community, a group of trusted people can offer input and challenge into life that will yield a HUGE difference in our becoming better people. Of course, trust is a HUGE factor in this process but the overall outcome offers more promise than simply making individual resolutions.

For Christ-followers, the addition of God's input in the process of discerning (through prayer, Scripture reading, meditation, fasting, etc.) can yield unimaginable results. What new commitment might be confirmed, supported and then realized into fruition if we shared our commitments with others?

This year, I've made a commitment to have "deeper and more meaningful relationship" with people God puts in my proximity. I have a group of people who, I trust and believe, will hold me accountable and help me make progress in that commitment. It isn't easy work, but that is all the more reason why it should occur in community.

Rather than "resolving to fail" like I have so many times in the past(some of us may have already "missed the mark" on this New Year's resolutions), perhaps we can "resolve to be resolute" and utilize our faith and our community to advance who we are as people. In community, we will watch ourselves and others grow and change as we become more of what we are capable of being.