A Shift in Rank
It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged; let me tell you
why. Ever since I graduated, I went from senior in college to a freshman in adult
land, from mentor to newbie, from old-and-wise to young-and-stupid. The next
stage in life brought me from a peak of seniority to a state of adult
infancy. No longer do people come to me for advice; I’m the new guy. I’m not
the leader of any bible studies or accountability groups. I’m the newlywed
novice learning how to live day to day. I’ve learned that in college, I was
merely a toddler amongst babies. And it’s not that I’ve become any less wise or
motivated, but rather, my perspective has grown beyond my vision. The more I
know, the more I realize there’s so much I don’t know. In essence, the reason I
haven’t blogged in a while is because I’m not really sure anyone still cares what
I have to say. So I’m sorry if you’ve missed my writing (all two of you).
Perhaps I can catch you up here.
Head down, Mind open
In the last two years, I’ve put my head down and kept my mind
open. I’ve stopped raising my hand to answer the questions of life and I’ve
focused simply on what’s in front of me. I’ve kept my mind open to what has
come my way and I’ve devoted myself to learning how to live as wisely as I can—with
marriage, with money, with time, with career. I’ve found mentors who are not
merely a few years older—as in college—but a few decades. I’ve scoured wise
minds for the keys to managing money shrewdly, serving my wife humbly,
advancing my career honorably, appreciating time appropriately, and giving my attention
selectively. I’ve been busy living, learning, and learning how to live.
Meanwhile, the temptation to keep up with the Jones’ is ever present, not simply
in HDTVs and cars, but vacations, homes, pets, babies, and experiences. The enticement
for a newly minted, married millennial is to look at all the things I don’t
have and sacrifice everything I have now to get them now. But fortunately for
myself (and Rachel), the call to finer things and fancier experiences has yet
to take us down a path we don’t really want to go.
Less Extraordinary, More
Extra Ordinary
College was a passionate time in my life. Everything had an
astonishing feel to it—a newness that covered every experience in excitement
and hope. There was always a problem to fix, a person to pursue, a prayer to
pray, and a purpose to find. Community was effortless. Monotony was rare.
Romantic love grew with a new sheen of effervescent exhilaration. But this new
stage in my life has a different feel. Time doesn’t move as measured and
purposely, but rather, it slips through my fingers as the business of life
draws me in. Community is not easy. Heck, it’s barely even existent unless I do
something about it. My attention is no longer focused on global movements to
rally around, but instead, small actions I intentionally execute day in and day
out to lead to a larger purpose. But this stage is no better or worse than
college. The last two years have been delightfully ordinary. Now passion takes
on the form of repeated daily experiences rather than grand sweeping gestures
of emotion. It‘s now a humble rhythm of little delights and stresses. What it
lacks in excitement, it makes up with contentment.
Furthermore, my walk with God is no longer a sprint from one
measure of faith to another, but rather a long obedience in the same direction.
My joy is no longer characterized by wisps of fanciful tales and extraordinary
circumstances. Instead, my joy is captured in repetitive prayer, consistent
thankfulness, and a calmer disposition. My worship comes out of the simple days
in the office, the sweet looks my wife gives me over a warm meal, and the
delightful conversations I share with the few people I choose to spend my life
with. As I mentioned, this new stage is just as wonderful as the last, but it
is not similar in the least.
Secretly Awesome
I’m about to let out a secret of ours: Rachel and I are
trying to be secretly awesome. Now I understand that publicly declaring this in
a blog for the entire world to see is counterproductive, but this is a lesson
we’ve been ruminating on for the better part of our marriage. We’ve found that out
of college and into the “real world”, the people we strive to be like are no
longer the Francis Chans, the John Pipers, and the David Platts of the world,
but rather the people we discover in the background that operate with a divine
excellence in secrecy. Rachel and I have encountered super heroes hidden in the
darkest shadows of obscurity, and we’re doing our best to imitate them. As we’ve
begun to veil our efforts in living a meaningful life, we’ve found that a life
lived without the burden of impressing others is quite extraordinary. We are
inspired by our mentors who rarely expose their awesomeness until it’s brimming
to the point of no hiding. So as Rachel and I grow to love and live together,
we are teaching each other to be secretly awesome.
Create, Don’t Consume
Our society is all about consumption and our economy is
dependent on it, but as children of God, we don’t imitate our Creator by
consuming, but by creating. I’ve found myself getting caught in patterns of
mass consumption—whether it’s video games, Netflix, or UK Basketball. While none
of these things are inherently wrong in themselves, I want my life to represent
what I create, not what I consume. No one will care if I’ve watched every
episode of Sherlock twice. The satisfaction of beating a video game lasts no further
than the last cut scene. Even as an ardent foodie, there will never be a meal
that won’t wear off after a few hours. Even though I consume without thinking,
I have to force myself to create. I have to focus on growing and nurturing the
love my wife and I share. I have to spend time putting quality into my work. I have
to intentionally reach out to my friends to create friendship and community.
Though creating isn’t automatic, it is the most meaningful thing about what I
do. No one cares about what we consume; it is only what we create that lasts
longer than the moment itself.
I’m done living defensively. I’m done trying to get
every person to like me; I want to focus on the relationships that glorify God.
I’m done praying for safety; I want to pray for God’s glory. I’m done worrying
about manners; I want to worry about loving my neighbor. I’m done thinking
Satan has some kind of power over me; I want to plunder Hell to populate
Heaven. Satan doesn’t care whether I spend my day looking at pornography or at
Facebook, so long as I am not looking at Jesus. Well I’m done fortifying my
castle; I’m learning to live with Jesus.
So there you go. I’m tired of worrying about how many people
read my blog; I’m trying to be secretly awesome anyway. I would rather thrive
in obscurity than suffer in the spotlight. Besides, the Kingdom of God belongs
to the meek and the mild—the ordinary, not the extraordinary. Won’t you join me
in the joyful, secret, awesomeness of wise obscurity?
