Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

- Dylan Thomas

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Powerless Over Your Pride

Step One: We admitted we were powerless and that our lives had become unmanageable.

Because I could not admit this, I would not do the 12 steps of recovery. I was working on a web-series for Celebrate Recovery, making testimonial films of people who applied the 12 steps to their lives and experienced total transformation. But I was in control over my problems, so I did not need the 12 steps.

This is what I told myself, and this is what you are probably telling yourself too.

You see, my addiction was not alcohol or narcotics – it was pride. Because pride is a socially acceptable addiction, I had developed amazing coping mechanisms for it, and I could live a perfectly normal, successful, happy life without the 12 steps. And because pride was my addiction, I would never admit that I was powerless to it. I would never even get through the first step that so many alcoholics and drug addicts before me could. And because pride is an addiction, I would never want to remove it from my life enough to do the 12 steps – which is an act of humility.

During the period of making this web-series, I went to one Celebrate Recovery meeting, “Just to see how this thing ministry works that I’m working for.” At that meeting, I was sure to let everyone know I was the one making the great videos they were seeing. Afterwards, when talking about my visit to C.R. with others, I brought it up so that people would think that I’m humble, and then I’d tell them about the web-series so they would know: A) I didn’t need to be in Recovery, and B) I’m a talented filmmaker getting good work.

…Who was I to think I was better than these people? I was worse. They were in recovery because they could admit that they were powerless. I did not have that humility. I could not would not take Step One, because I was in denial. I was powerless over my pride.

But I am so glad that I took the first step. I am so grateful for the experience.

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Immerse Arkansas Support

This is a mass solicitation. Please read if you are interested in financially supporting foster-youth transition into adulthood. For the privacy of the mentors and residents, all names have been changed.

To start at the beginning,

Last summer I was hired to interview the director of the DCFS in Arkansas, which oversees foster-care. I learned a lot about the problems foster youth face through that experience and concluded, “I would love to be a part of the solution, but since I’m a young, single man, there’s no way for me to really be of any help.” (If you would like a 101 on some of the experiences foster youth face, the video is only 2 minutes. http://vimeo.com/fellowshipunleashed/fostercare )

Six months later, a friend asked me if I’d be interested in being a R.A./mentor for foster youth… and so I got hooked up with Immerse Arkansas. The whole deal sounded like a great opportunity for me to serve, given my flexible lifestyle… and so as I was weighing that decision, the need just proved too great to not do something.

Of foster youth who age out of the system…
— Less than 2% graduate from college.
— Very likely to experience homelessness
— Very likely to struggle with drug addictions
— Very likely to be imprisoned.
— Likely to have unwanted pregnancies.
— Very likely to suffer economic hardship

You may think to yourself, “Foster teens… Now that sounds like a lot of work!” And to be honest, at times it was. Suicide threats, unhealthy interpersonal behavior, depression, and anger-control were just a few of the trials we had to tread. But through those bumps, I did get to see an incredible amount of growth in my guys, as I was changed by my friendship with them. Let me share with you one of my favorite examples.

Boys Need Men
In order to make it to his school in time, Michael had to wake up at 5:30a.m. every day. Sometimes, it can be hard enough getting your own 18 year old kid to wake up at 7. Imagine your son had to get up at 5:30, but you’ve been too busy in and out of drug rehab programs to model a responsible life, and that 18 year old son you haven’t seen in months lives by himself, in his own apartment… Do you really think he’ll make it to class every day, or is it more likely that he’ll drop out and get a job working the line at Luby’s?

Michael came to us with his crisis. “If I miss three more days, I won’t graduate.” Enter mentor Kyle.

Kyle woke up at 5:00am every single day to help Michael meet the day. Sometimes, it would just be a text message. Othertimes, they’d hang out for breakfast or walk to the bus-stop together. Do you see the difference? Michael had a grown man that cared about him, and taught him, in this one way, how to be a man. Michael graduated high school, and he’ll enroll at UALR for the spring semester.

That was one of my favorite stories, but my favorite is the one that I got to personally be involved in.

Stories over Smokes
During my stay, Jeff and I hung out quite a bit. We played video games, watched movies, all that. And usually in the intermission, he’d take a smoke break. He was a Century 25′s man (“the most bang for your buck”), so I’d sit with him and we’d have a talk. During those smoke breaks, Jeff really started to open up. He shared things that he had never told anyone, and really came to grips with a lot of things that he was struggling with. Often, we’d talk about college and what he can expect – what I loved and what I regret. Of course I can’t go in to details, but all in all, we just became close friends, and through that, my heart opened up and I learned more about loving my neighbor, and he learned more about how he should live his life.

That is discipleship.
You hear about discipleship at church all the time. I have not experienced many organizations that are as committed to “life on life” discipleship than Immerse Arkansas.

Paul tells the Thessalonians, “We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us.” This is what Immerse does, and I can personally testify to the love they have for their foster youth, and how incredibly unselfish the Immerse leaders are with how they share their lives.

The Bottom Line
So here’s the deal. A donor has agreed to match new monthly commitments that are made between now and October 1st, up to $3,000/mo. So every dollar you give, another dollar will be given.

Right now, Immerse has $1,630 in monthly commitments. In their usual way, Immerse has decided that they want as many people as possible to be involved in the cause of the foster youth, and so they have set their recommended donation at just $12/mo. If you want to give more, you can – but it’s at a level where anyone can be involved who would like to be.

If you would like to donate immediately, go here: http://www.immersearkansas.org/donate/

If you would like to contact them to learn more…

Immerse Arkansas
6420 Colonel Glenn Rd., Ste. 1
Little Rock, AR 72204

Office: 501-613-7779
Email: eric@immersearkansas.org

Again, they are a wonderful organization made up of wonderful people committed to following Jesus and dsicipling foster youth. So, please consider it. Pray about it, think about it, watch The Blind Side, etc…

Thanks for the time it took to read this.

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This Single Hope

This is a poem I wrote during a rough month I had a few years ago. It’s interesting to look back on how weary I was over what now appears to be so little. …But that’s just the way of rear-view mirrors. Objects may appear smaller than they are (or were). Though the poetics are terrible, I enjoy the memory of the trial this piece recalls. That I read it now with a smile reminds me that the trials I face today and tomorrow will also be looked on one day through the enduring lens of the rear view mirror.

We’re broken people
We’re shattered glass
A thousand pieces of sinful mass

We’re broken hearts
Clinging to threads
Of this single hope still pounding in our heads

Lord we confess
That we need you
So how long God till your word comes through?

Yes I confess
My strength is gone
Because the sword you hold has pierced my lungs

Now my breath has failed
My life’s run dry
This aching heart has lost its cry

We’re broken people
We’re shattered glass
A thousand pieces of sinful mass

We’re broken hearts
Clinging to the threads
Of this single hope still pounding in our heads.

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Instinct and Intuition

Recently, I picked up a book called The Social Animal. A key argument of the book goes like this – our subconscious is the most powerful part of the mind, and through it we make our decisions; the consciousness of the why comes later. It says the reason for this is because our emotional faculties are our decision makers. In the end, purely logical decisions do not exist. And then it goes on to prove this using some test cases.

I think it’s absolutely true. When people fall in love, they can’t explain it right away. They come up with reasons why they fell in love later, but in the moment, “We just knew.” …My problem is, “I just know” way too often. I’m tempted to feel like the research in this book validates my decision-making process–I live and die on instinct–but in reality, that predisposition leads to impatience. I have an over-active decide-o-matic.

One friend of mine said that she thought I was hyper-intuitive. She was one of those friends who had an uncomfortably accurate picture of me, so I took that “compliment” to mean that my intuition was like my mutant power, always nimble, always right. Of course, that’s not how it works. Rather, she meant that I rely on intuition well beyond what most would consider “good reason.” …You would think that a few break-ups, unnecessary expenses, and near death experiences would teach me a little self-restraint, yet I remain the fool who rushes in.

All that to say, I’m thankful that wisdom is built on the knowledge of one’s weaknesses!

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Death is Coming

“For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool!” – Ecclesiastes 2:16

Ecclesiastes teaches that we must look at death to learn how to live.

There is nothing proud about a corpse. At times, I found it pitiful the way the Egyptian kings were buried in great tombs with their treasures, hidden within tremendous, golden-peaked pyramids. I found it pitiful, because these are all the trappings of a rotting corpse. They are vain attempts to dodge death’s sting and hold on to kingdoms that have already slipped through cold fingers.

One king did not have his body embalmed, nor did he request a tomb of treasures. He submitted himself to death’s greatest assault. And then, rising from the grave, he conquered death. Of all the kings of the earth, only Jesus Christ could say, “Oh death, where is your sting?”

This world is full of vanity. Death comes, and that is the guarantee. Count on being forgotten. Do not live with great ambition for your name on this earth; it will not last. Even the earth is dying.

With that in mind, do I love God, or do I love money? Because too often do I dream of the next acquisition, and when I die, my vain treasures will burn.

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“Over My Head” by A. Peterson

I love these lyrics by Andrew Peterson. I hope you do too.

–

Well I live in Nashvegas and I sing and I play,

And everybody thinks that I write my own.

There’s a fellow named Guido who lives in Inceno,

Who wrote song every song that I know.

Well he sends MP3′s for a nominal fee,

And I sing them and play them and tell them that it’s me.

I’m in over my, over my, over my head,

If they knew I was nothing but gold-painted lead,

They’d stone me, dethrone me, and leave me for dead,

I’m in over my, over my head.

I’m in over my, over my head.

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Overconfident

Lessons learned are sweet indeed. Even the painful ones, the wake-up calls.

In 1960, a poll was conducted among high school students, asking them if they thought they were “special.” Twelve-percent said yes. In 1980, over eighty-percent said yes. The United States of America is now home to the most overconfident people in the world.

Child development research indicates that if you praise a child for “being such a hard-worker” when they solve a problem, it promotes an industrious spirit that sees problems as obstacles to be overcome, whereas if you praise a child for “being such a smart kid,” they come to believe success is an inane trait, and they avoid difficult problems out of a fear of being seen as a stupid person. Time and time again, my teachers always told me how smart I was. And this is exactly how I took it – “I’m the chosen one. I will always succeed, because hey, it’s me…”

As school became more difficult, I became more adept at making grades without exertion. In my psyche, success was measured in a perverse, inverted effort/reward ratio. The most successful ratio favored the highest reward divided by the least amount of effort. Geniuses shouldn’t have to try, and if I had to really put my back into it, then what would that say about my intelligence?

Thankfully, college taught me how to work hard. You can’t B.S. your way through a film production. I know because I failed. And yet, when I do succeed, I am still tempted to interpret that success through a fatalistic lens. “Hey, it’s me… it’s what I do.” When I take this entitled attitude, I deceive myself, handicap myself, rob my Lord of his glory, and withdraw from his abiding love.

Here is the wake-up call: I am not special. I am not the chosen one. I am not destined for a greatness that others will not share. Our greatness will be shared, as God’s risen children.

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Community and Contentment

This past week, a friend of mine confessed that she was struggling with contentment in solitude. She has spent the last month away from her college community and realized, as a result of this, just how dependent she is on other people. I responded by saying, “Life is meant to be shared.” Now this is true, but it is an incomplete statement to her situation, and I regretted it as soon as I walked away. I failed to really put myself in her shoes, and as a result, I ignored how vital solitude has been to my growth since graduating.

After college, my friends and I all spread out to different corners of the world, and while our day-to-day experiences were quite different, we all felt the same sense of isolation, exile, and disillusionment. We realized that we had been raised in a bio-dome of community of sorts, through school and college, and that fantasy-land is forever past. When we spread out, each of us were left with ourselves, and that was it.

When left with myself, I found that, in the words of St. Theophan the Recluse, I was “like a shaving of wood which is curled around its central emptiness.” I was left alone, and in that solitude, I felt empty. I had this great need for another person – just one person – to link arms with me and share my life and work with. The ironic aspect was that I had always thought of myself as independent. But I wasn’t. Most of my life had been centered around fulfilling the expectations of others, and exile was necessary for me to see that emptiness and learn who I truly was, separate from what I did and what others said of me. There were no more tests to pass, no more friends to help, no more sermons to preach, no more praise to receive.

I experienced a lot of loneliness in that first year, but if I could turn back time and trade the solitude I experienced after college for a full and constant swirl of friends and activity… I wouldn’t. We were made for community, but we need solitude in our life to confront our own emptiness. It is in our emptiness, our desperation, that we are filled with the Spirit. Therefore, let us accept solitude so that when we do share our lives with others, it is a life worth sharing. “Life is meant to be shared, but if God has you in a time of solitude, accept it as an opportunity to gaze inward and face the emptiness. When you return to your community, it will be more satisfying than ever before.” I wish that is what I had told my friend.

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The Headmaster

Anitha told me that we were about to meet her headmaster, a man who introduced her to Christ and forever changed her life. She went on to tell me about what a great leader he is, how he is like a father to his students, and how excited she is that I would get to meet him. And so we walk in to the room, and I greet those who were there.

Sam, Philip, Johnson, Nathan. All of them looked to be in their twenties. And then a much older man with a long beard hobbles in and takes a seat, and I’m introduced to Muzei. It was great honor to meet this man, I spend quite a lot of time talking to him, as do the other graduates of Cornerstone. Afterwards, we hop in the car and drive to Kigali Institute of Science and Technology where the headmaster is going to speak on leadership to a student organization. I am confused, because the old man is not in the car. I now realize that I have don’t actually know who the headmaster is…

When the host of the event calls up the headmaster, Johnson stood up and took the microphone. He looked to be my age, although he is 34. With a compassionate smile, he begins talking.

“Leaders do not need to make sure people know they’re leaders. They just lead. They just serve.”

I had no idea the man in the corner of the living room at dinner was the headmaster. I had no idea that he had changed the lives of everyone there. I had no idea that he started one of the most successful Christian boarding schools in East Africa by the age of 27. It is no wonder that he is a father figure to his students… He does not lord his authority over them. He walks alongside them, serves them, leads them, but does not try to control them.

No matter what our profession may be, we can take a lesson from this man. Instead of trying to “be a leader,” just lead. Just serve.

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