The 2 Most Important Lessons

As I get older (and I'm not 'old' by any stretch of the imagination, so don't give me any grief) I realize that life really is simple. I mean, if you break it all down to its basics, it's not that complicated. I often laugh at how giddy we get over all the rapidly improving technological changes and tout that we are the most "advanced" country in the world. I laugh (not "ha-ha" laugh, more of a snort as I drop my head in embarrassment) because as our cell phones get fancier, our laptops get thinner, and our TV's do both, our lives get messier, more cluttered, and less contented. And in the midst of all these "advancements" we lose some of the basic essence of what it is to be human, what it means to be made in God's image. We lose faith, hope, and love. We grow tired, stressed, lonely. My laugh quickly fades to a silent, reflective sigh.

Part of my life journey to this point has included being a dad, which those of you who regularly read my blog know that my kids are a good portion of my inspiration for writing (their wisdom and wit often surpasses my own). And this journey of fatherhood has caused me to look at life through a different lens, one that sees the impact my life will have on my children. Because their eyes have been on me since the day they were born, I evaluate my actions differently. I see that what I do causes ripples, no matter how small, that flow out from my words and actions and pass through the lives of everyone around me, especially my kids. As I have taken this profound responsibility seriously, I have concluded that there are two fundamental lessons that I believe my children (and others) need to know, need to embrace, if they are to grasp what life is really all about.

These are the 2 most important lessons:

1. You are not the center of the universe.
2. You never will be.

Go ahead, you can chuckle if you want. I know I did when this simple, but oddly profound, truth hit me. If you really boil down life to these two lessons, and keep them near in your conscious mind, you will be amazed at how much more clearly you will see life. You will actually begin to learn, begin to breathe, begin to commune with others and with God himself. You might even awaken for the first time to the reality that your life actually flows from God. You see, that's the real point. There are many things in life that scratch and claw and demand that they be central (like that brand new whatchamacallit tech gizmo gadget). And the message that all these things, these materials, are screaming out is, "You deserve this because you are the center of it all." The message may be subtle (recently, not so much), but its devestation is overwhelming and long lasting.

I will admit that it's hard to learn these lessons. I may go through seasons where I can grasp, and possibly even embrace the first lesson. Sure, I know I'm not the center of the universe, but my mind still plays tricks on me. I might say with my mouth and even think in my mind that I'm not at the center, but I forget to communicate that truth to my heart. And since it is out of the heart that we truly live, my behaviors will actually cater to the lie that I'm at the center. Then I wonder with disbelief why I suffer the consequences I do when the fruit of that lie is produced in my life. And that's me just trying to embrace the first lesson!

For me personally, the second lesson is actually harder to embrace. And I think in some very subtle ways the church today is even aiding us in not embracing the fact that we will never be the center of it all. I call it "formula theology." If you just get the formula right, all your dreams will come true, all the blessings will reign down, all your hurts, illnesses, doubts, troubles, and fears will be eliminated. This sounds good, I even wish it were true. But God never fits into a formula. You can't "pray a certain way" or "give x-amount of dollars" and expect to hit the blessing jackpot like you are pulling some lever on a spiritual slot machine. Formula theology ultimately stems from a premise that you and I are the central focus of life. We are not.

Now, don't get me wrong. God does love us. God cares for us deeply. But, ultimately, His love and care for us will never displace HIM at the center of it all. We came from Him, and we will return to Him (those of us who have accepted His salvation through faith in Jesus, will live forever in heaven; those who don't believe in Jesus will return to God for judgment). HE IS THE CENTER! And He always will be. This fundamental truth is a lesson that, if learned, can save a person from untold hours, months, even years of heartache, brokenness, and emptiness of trying to substitute themselves for the position reserved only for God.

These are the lessons I am teaching my kids, but I am seeking to learn them myself. In fact, I don't know if my kids could embrace these lessons if their dad was unwilling to embrace them. Therefore, I am committed to daily reminding myself that I am not the center of the universe and I never will be. And, thankfully, the One who was, who is, and who forever will be is more than capable of fulfilling such duties without strain or error. What a relief (some may call this peace).

Breathing easy off-center,

jonathan

Fear Not! "Oh, Daddy..."

This will be a short post, but thought it was worth sharing.

Well, here's another priceless gem from my youngest daughter. This morning at breakfast, it was just me, Megan, and Elaine (my wife). The other two kids were sleeping in a bit. Megan was in a talkative mood, which isn't uncommon anytime of the day. But today she was obsessed with talking about what would happen if an intruder were to try and break into our house. She kept going on and on about it, but then she paused and took a few bites of her soggy cereal while Elaine and I had a chance to chat.

After a minute or so, Megan motioned to Elaine like she was going to whisper something to her, but before Elaine could lean over Megan said, "I know what I would say to that man if he tried to get into our house."

"What would you say?" I asked.

Megan threw her head back, stuck out her chest, put her hands boldly on her hips, and proclaimed in a sing-songy voice, "Don't be afraid, FEAR NOT!" with extra special emphasis on the "fear not" part. I smiled a big smile, and was about to tell her what a great idea that was, when she immediately curled up a bit, squinted her eyes almost in a smile, and said sheepishly, "And then I'd say, 'Oh, Daddy.'" Elaine and I burst out laughing, before we went on to tell her what a great idea that was.

Isn't that just how we are sometimes with God and the struggles and fears we face in our lives? We begin to obsess over the things that frighten us, events that haven't even happened yet. God patiently stands nearby as we try to quietly figure it all out on our own. Then, when we think we have a profound answer, even an answer that sounds good and "Christian," we puff out our chest, kick back our head, and boldly proclaim how strong we would be in the face of those fears. Yet, just as quickly as we declare our fearlessness, we realize that our fears can only be relieved when we call out, "Oh, Daddy..."

How good it is to know that our Father in heaven hears our cries, understands our fears, and will embrace us and protect us, even when we attempt to overcome them on our own. And how thankful I am to have a daughter who regularly illustrates these truths to my simple mind...

Calling out to Daddy,

jonathan