It’s Christmas time. Lots of frivolity, merriment, and holly-jolly going on. There’s no better time to talk about anger, rage, and indignation, don’t you think? Something I’ve thought a lot about but written precious little about is the fact that the God who made us (whether you believe in Him or not) is a God with the capacity for anger. And it’s my personal opinion as a follower of Jesus that not enough followers of Jesus have a good understanding of the benefits of anger. That’s right: benefits. So let’s get into this.

It seems you can open up to almost any Old Testament (that’s Genesis through Malachi) and without much looking you can find a situation where God’s wrath (or at least seemingly grumpiness) is being seen. I’ll be the first to confess that it can be a challenge to reconcile what seem to be two different sides/aspects/faces of God when you look at the Old and New Testaments. It appears that God was sometimes vengeful and sometimes benevolent. I get that.

What I want to do is take a look at a situation in the gospels when Jesus came into the temple courts, what he saw, and how he responded. But first…

Have you ever witnessed a true overreaction happen? When the way someone was responding to a situation was completely disproportionate to what the situation actually warranted? If you’re a parent, I’m sure you’ve seen your little one (or yourself) have a complete meltdown over what in your eyes was a normal everyday inconvenience; a block tower falls over, a spoonful of peas hits the ground, a stubbed toe, a red light when you’re in a hurry, the shelves being empty of the one ingredient you needed, the boss bumping that deadline up a day, or any number of daily “grievances” that can just set us off. As long as there have been reactions, there have been overreactions. Raise a hand if you’ve ever overreacted to anything at any time. Yes, I see those hands. Thanks for your brave honesty.

If you read in John’s gospel, chapter 2 you’ll see some incredible things happen. First off, we see Jesus’ first public miracle at a wedding in Cana. There’s so much happening there but its what happens soon after that I’d like to focus on for a few minutes. You can read the specific passage I’m referring to here. It’s John 2:12-17.

Let’s get right to the juicy part, shall we? Verse 15 tells us “So he made a whip out of cords…”

While we’re unclear as to the actual material Jesus used to craft this whip (whether plant, rope, or leather), we can see clearly that he “made” a whip. Being God, He could have certainly summoned a whip to appear in His hand but the word used for “made” is more indicative of something being produced, created; something being accomplished. In other words, Jesus took His time with His anger. He thought it through. He responded with anger that was holy and right. So we can reasonably figure that Jesus’ response to the scene He saw was not an anger that was moody or unhinged; rather His anger was calculated, controlled, and purposeful. We can say that Jesus whipped it. Good.

The reason for Jesus’ anger was that there was a violation of the sacred happening right in front of Him. The space designated for worship, for offerings, for fellowship, for community, and most of all for prayer was being adulterated and used for the sale of goods, commerce, business, for profit. Thieves in the form of merchants had infiltrated the holy temple and Jesus simply wasn’t going to tolerate that.

So Jesus took a breath, found some cords, maybe even sat down, and created a whip with which to address the situation. And by “address” we mean coin-scattering, table-flipping, and raised-voice behavior. In other words, Jesus was TICKED.

What angers you these days? Your first stop is to ask this revealing question: Is what I’m angry about and how I’m responding worth the level of anger I’m giving it? Just like we can misappropriate funds into a bad investment, we can misappropriate energy into an unworthy situation. Anger isn’t the problem. Misspent anger is. Search the scriptures and you won’t find the words “Don’t get angry.” Nope. They’re not there. What you WILL find are the instructions “In your anger, do not sin.” (Eph. 4:26)

So what gets you angry? What is going on in our world that triggers table-flipping and coin-scattering? Are you confident that the response it’s eliciting from you is calculated, controlled, and purposeful? If not, how did this thing reach such a level of importance in your heart that it would receive a disproportionate amount of your emotional energy?

If I may, I’d like to suggest that the list of things that would cause us to flip tables should be rather short. Here are mine: racial injustice, exploitation of any human for any reason, when I (and/or others) know better but don’t do better. And because it was true for Jesus, we can safely add that it is okay to be angry when prayer loses a place of priority in our lives, communities, and worship.

By contrast, here are things that have no right triggering anger within me: having to wait in line, traffic frustrations, when others disagree with me, when I feel someone is speaking inaccurately about me, when things don’t go as I planned/think they should, comment sections, being overlooked at work, the good fortune of others, and plenty of others.

I’ll ask again: What’s getting you angry that really shouldn’t? Jesus was angered; flipped tables, scattered coins, and raised His voice when prayer was undervalued. So prayer needs to play an integral role in us recalibrating our priorities when it comes to what makes us angry and what doesn’t/shouldn’t.

I suspect that I might raise some eyebrows with this one.

I’m sitting in a small, local coffee shop that I love to frequent. The coffee is incredible and the baked goods are always delicious. About six feet away from me is a table of about 10 men that are obviously gathered around for some type of Bible study or devotional they’re doing together as they build community and relationships through accountability and mutual encouragement. Each of them is sharing their thoughts on whatever passage they’re reading from the Bible. It’s a nice scene and I’m glad to see spiritual things out in the open as part of the public conversation. Regardless of your spiritual convictions, I hope you at least can agree that we are not merely bones and organs encased in flesh, but that there is a spiritual dimension to us humans. We really are more than what we see.

I just heard one of them share four words I’ve heard countless times over my decades of walking with Jesus among others who are walking with Jesus. These four words especially surface when people are talking about their own understanding of the Christian’s mission on earth or even the purpose of corporate worship gatherings. The words are “It’s not about you.” It’s the Christian response to what seems like selfishness, or something we say when we’re inconvenienced, or something we remind ourselves (or the pastor reminds us) of when the church music isn’t just the way we like it, or when the sermon the pastor preaches seems to be more evangelistic than deep-discipleship focused. This mantra has been used to ward off what seems like misaligned opinions of everything from doctrine, to how we conduct ourselves among our neighbors, to what we do (or put up with) when we gather together for worship.

*A quick Google search of “It’s not about you” reveals humanity’s fixation with these four words in all kinds of contexts; even in corporate profits, in retail sales, and in self-help arenas. I’m not surprised at how we have built these four words into an industry of sorts.

But here’s the thing. I don’t think the sentiment “It’s not about you” is entirely biblical. Hear me out. Let’s bring it back to what might be considered the very centerpiece of the story the Bible tells: The cross of Jesus. Who was the cross for? YOU. You are the reason Jesus came to earth. YOU are the aim of God’s mission of redemption and salvation. YOU are the apple of His eye and the object of His affection. When Jesus was whipped, torn, pierced, bleeding, and hanging on the tree He had allowed Himself to be nailed to, it was YOU who was on His mind. This truth cannot be overstated. But I don’t think you’ve thought nearly enough about that reality. Jesus is the “darling of heaven”, but YOU are the darling of Jesus’ fiercely-focused love.

Do I think the cross and the work done there to save humanity is a license for us to build our lives looking out for ourselves and having some type of spiritualized ego that makes much of ourselves while neglecting others? Absolutely not. But I DO think that when you see, appreciate, embrace, and reconcile the fact that the cross of Christ was about YOU, then you are free to love people with a love that is in line with the eternal love we’ve been shown. We won’t and we can’t access that love unless we truly accept that the cross, the love shown through the sacrifice of Jesus there, IS about you.

Yes, I know the words of Jesus regarding losing yourself, self-denial, taking up your cross, and the words “I must decrease, He must increase” spoken by John in his gospel writing. Needless to say, there’s lots more on my mind about this and what this mindset leads to, but I’ll stop here. I’d love to hear your responses to these thoughts.

I woke up today with a VERY old hymn playing on hard repeat in my mind. Why? I have no idea. But because it was so strong and so clearly blaring in the ears of my mind (does a mind have ears?), I thought maybe I’d try and poke at these lyrics and see what comes out by way of spiritual encouragement for us all.

If you’ve read much of this blog or been walking with me for a while, you know some of my story. I grew up a “son of a preacher man” and so my earliest memories are fully immersed in the context of a small, independent Baptist church. You can look it up on Google maps if you want. It at one time was called South Jersey Baptist Church–SJBC to insiders–but now it’s called Good Samaritan Baptist Church.

As a youngin’ who grew up in that setting, I learned all the songs; always accompanied by that tinny-sounding upright piano, with Mr. Faith (yes, his real name) playing on the keys each Sunday morning. The song pounding in my head today that takes me back to good ol’ 307 Townbank Rd. was “Blest Be The Tie That Binds”. Sing along if you know it…

“Blest be the tie that binds…our hearts in Christian love
The fellowship of kindred minds….is like to that above.”

There are 5 other verses, but honestly, I think we only ever sang that one. It was really more of a diddy than a song, really. More of a single stanza than a full hymn, at least the way we did it.

So there I am in the shower this morning, “Blest beee the tiiiiie that biiiiinds…”

The first place my mind goes is to Jesus’ prayer for His disciples AND for you and for me (included in that high priestly prayer): “I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one—as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me.” (John 17:21)

How tight, how close, how intimate is that level of unity? There’s nothing closer than to share the same heart, the same focus, the same passion, the same direction as God the Father shares with God the Son. And it’s God the Holy Spirit that makes this level of unity possible.

Is there disunity among us as followers of Jesus? The answer, I fear, is an emphatic yes. However, the next question must be addressed and answered: Why? Why–when Jesus Himself seemed to plead for this level of unity–why are we not as unified as Jesus desires us to be? I can say that I believe in principle we are, but in practice, we aren’t.

So what IS the “tie that binds”? Is it not the fact that each of us draws our salvation, reconciliation, redemption, forgiveness, and justification from the same place; the very cross of Jesus Christ? And what is it that works against our unity as His followers? And do those things have any right to carry the weight we often wrongfully give them? What’s working against the “fellowship of kindred minds”?

I’d suggest to you that it is our unity that will present our most potent apologetic to the truth of the Gospel story. It is the togetherness, the oneness among His people that will declare to the world that we are His and His is ours.

I conducted a wedding ceremony yesterday. Officiating weddings is one of my favorite things to do as an ordained minister. There’s a holiness, a solemnity, a sacredness at the wedding altar. There’s a unity that is born that is reflective of God’s own unity with Himself in eternal community. We touch the divine in such sacred covenantal moments. Do we see our brothers and sisters washed in the same blood in this way? Do we uphold unity above all else? If we do not, we do not uphold the Gospel and the ministry of reconciliation we have been given by our Reconciler.

This will be one of those hard stops. I’ll end here and ask your thoughts on this issue of Christian fellowship and unity among believers. Where do you see fractures? Where do you see unity? What are some steps we can take together in Christ?

I’ve had a number of run-ins with celebrity types over the years. I’ll admit that you might not recognize many (or any) of these people, but at the moment it happened, that “brush with greatness” was memorable.

When I was in college, somehow we had Oliver North come and speak at our school. I had the chance to ask the final question of the Q&A session at the end of the night. So I asked him what his favorite (or most cherished) scripture verse was.

On two different occasions, I ran into Alan Ruck. Alan played “Cameron”, Ferris Bueller’s best friend in the 80’s cult classic “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”. He also played “Rabbit” in the hit movie “Twister”. The second time I saw him was in a grocery store. I got up the gumption to actually invite him to a theatrical event at the church I was pastoring at. Imagine that. I asked “Rabbit” to use his map and find his way to our church building to watch me help “act” out the crucifixion and resurrection story.

I was flying from somewhere to somewhere else. I had a connection in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. During that flight, I overheard two flight attendants talking to each other that Barry Manilow was actually at the airport we were headed to. I got off the plane and was walking down the concourse when none other than Barry Manilow (along with his entourage) literally walked directly across my path. I mean DIRECTLY. Barry and his pre-rhinoplasty nose was within 12-18 inches of my likewise un-small nose. It was all a blur I didn’t see coming, or I would’ve tried to stop him and tell him that at age 12 when I got my first Walkman, his greatest hits album was the very first cassette I ever owned. You know, like most 12-year-old guys.

When we lived in Nyack, New York, Rosie O’Donnell moved into town. Nyack is a wonderful little bedroom town full of NYC commuters. If you don’t know Rosie, you weren’t alive in the late-90s when her daytime talk and variety show was THE SHOW to watch. Imagine Jimmy Fallon during daytime television with amazing special guests, hilarity, and an anything-can-happen approach to entertainment. We both had daughters who were the same age and in elementary school so at the end of the school day, many parents would stand outside the school building (like a car pick-up line, but much more conversational/connective) and just talk with each other. One day Rosie approached me and started talking to me, asking if I was somehow a part of her Broadway show called “Taboo”, which was a musical based on Boy George’s life story. (Are you saying you’re not familiar with Boy George? Do you really want to hurt me?) Anyway, I had to confess that I in fact was not any part of the cast or crew of her apparently enormous Broadway production. But she was pleasant and approachable, covered in paint from a project at home just a couple blocks away.

But perhaps my favorite run-in with greatness was the most interesting of them all. I was strolling some downtown area one day during some out-of-state conference I was attending where we were given some free time. My wife and I saw a large luxury bus with the word “Discover Card” emblazoned on the side of it. The door was open, so clearly that was an invitation to step inside, and so we did. Because why not? As soon as we climbed up the curved staircase steeply ascending into this beautiful beast of a bus, we realized this was no bus at all. This was more like a lavish apartment and we were instantly in the front living room. Lush leather couches flanked the path we were on. We were invited/instructed to make our way to the kitchen where we could help ourselves to decadent chocolates and perfectly chilled glass-bottle Coca-Colas in the fridge (When they’re in glass bottles as God intended, you can’t just say “Coke”). We made our way to the back room where a very handsome, very fit male human sat behind a large table. Next to him was someone else, maybe an assistant, maybe a bodyguard, maybe a PR person. Who knows. On the table in front of this svelte mass of masculinity was a stack of 8×10 glossy photos of himself and a steel cup filled with Sharpie markers. This man (I had figured out he was a famous professional athlete by then) slid a photo of himself off the top of the stack, asked me my name, and scribbled on the photo with the Sharpie. He slid it across the table to me, said thanks for coming, and urged me to take more chocolates and glass-bottle Coca-Colas on my way out. Which I did. Wouldn’t you?

What type of greatness has your life brushed up against? Let me know in the comment section to share your story!

That last one will always stick out with me because I think it’s probably the way many of us Christians approach our view of God. We sense He’s a big deal, we come to him “hat in hand” as the old saying goes, we interact with him for a moment, grab our glossy, and slink back to normal life. By the way, I still have that glossy photo. It’s of that guy (I still have no idea of his name) and the photo is an action shot of him skating on an NHL ice hockey rink. Here’s what he wrote: “To my friend, Jerry….” and then unintelligible scribble that I assume is his autograph.

But see? The glossy says “my friend” so that means we’re friends, right?

You know better and so do I. Just because I had a run-in with someone of acclaim doesn’t mean at all that I have a meaningful connection with that person. And I fear that many people enter into worship gatherings much like my experience on that luxury bus. Grabbing the chocolates and glass-bottle Coca-Colas, but without any meaningful familiarity with Who it is we’re actually there to commune with, worship, hear from, and be changed by.

Let’s not merely have “brushes with greatness”. Let’s inhabit the Greatness of God in our own lives. Romans 8 tells us that the very power that raised Jesus from the dead lives within us. If this is true, it isn’t the stories of celebrity run-ins that are eye-catching but the fact that the very God of heaven and earth is willing to be with us and to live within us. Do you want a brush with Greatness? Embrace the grace and forgiveness that God offers all of humanity by way of Jesus’ death and resurrection and then take a look in the mirror. You’re witnessing the greatest greatness that could ever exist: the changed heart, mind, and life.

Months ago (I should have written down the date), God spoke clearly to me and impressed on my heart what our theme for this year’s high school fall retreat would be. “Shalom,” He said. “Really?…You sure?… You won’t want to think about it a little more? No rush. Seriously.”, I replied. I was taken aback by what God was saying. I wasn’t quite sure how I would build an entire weekend retreat (4 sessions altogether) around a well-worn Hebrew word. And that was my first mistake; it wouldn’t be me building anything. It would be me being obedient to God’s directive call. *Fellow pastors, take note of this. I’m still learning it after nearly 3 decades in ministry: I’m not actually creating or carrying anything. Neither are you. We’re stewarding the good gifts of God.*

I’m gonna take a wild guess here. Actually, it’s not a wild guess at all. It’s a confident knowledge that can be backed by irrefutable evidence: NO high schooler I have ever interacted with has ever had “Shalom” as a part of their daily vocabulary. They’re more likely to use words like “fair”, “bet”, “fit”, “vibe”, “drip”, and “extra”. But “Shalom”? Nah, bruh.

I couldn’t have known (but should’ve known) just what God would do with His promises. Throughout the weekend, we watched Him move and heard Him speak so clearly through this seemingly simple, straightforward word. Not merely during our times of gathered worship, but all throughout the conversations and activities that we had, we saw shalom rise up as a reality, as a longing, as a gift, and as a blessing.

If you were to ask the first person you meet on the street what shalom means, you are likely to get the response, “It means peace.” But there’s more to shalom than simply peace. And while we’re at it, let’s define what we mean by peace. Most people view peace as a time of quiet in the absence of trouble. But this type of peace–this shalom–doesn’t care much about what’s going on outwardly. Shalom is an inner wholeness, completeness, and gifted peace that is far beyond the simple absence of trouble.

Here is a sound byte from each of our four sessions; the truths we gathered around when we gathered and fed on God’s Word (Disclaimer: There’s just no way to convey what we experienced together in God’s presence, so these are just summaries):

Friday evening: Shalom is not just peace, but wholeness. The absence of shalom indicates a need for spiritual healing. We used a broken circle imagery to ask where those fractures are so that with God’s guidance, we could begin to address them and seek His healing.

Saturday morning: We talked about how shalom calls us to vulnerability. As we are willing to be vulnerable in our faith walk, and as we are willing to allow ourselves to be known by others, we grow in humility as we understand that our collective brokenness relieves us from having to pretend. Fear shatters shalom, but shalom shields the heart. God’s Word gives us the “Do not fear” instruction 365 times. When we welcome humility by releasing fear, humility ushers in unity, and it is unity that Jesus prayed for when He prayed for us, His disciples.

Saturday evening: Shalom is the gift of God that changes who we are and what we are like. We talked about how to introduce spiritual healing into every relationship we have and how to steer conversations into a spiritual direction. Three words create a simple structure: engage, encourage, and equip. More organically, and as a result of one of our teen girls sharing something powerful, we also talked about what it means to truly encourage someone. We looked at 2 Timothy and Paul’s instruction to Timothy to “fan into flame” God’s gift with us. So when we encourage someone, we are literally stoking the fire of their faith!

Sunday morning: Shalom is not peace in the absence of conflict, it is wholeness even in the presence of trouble. Over the past few years, we have shifted our Sunday morning gatherings at retreat to far more of an open sharing time to allow people to reflect on our weekend and what God has said to them, so they can verbally process it, share it, and encourage others with it. We wrapped up with the simple truth that “Shalom faces forward”. How then do we live shalom going forward? I learned long, long ago that God writes a far better story than I do. So as a communicator and pastor, I only give enough direction to provide some suggestions for taking the learned truth forward. I don’t typically script an explicit “now do this” type of response. I leave all that to God’s Holy Spirit. I simply speak the truth, unpack that truth in practical ways, and encourage listeners to live the truth God is speaking to them.

I like to wrap things up with a nice bow, but this one rejects that idea. Shalom is ongoing and won’t be concluded. I’m excited to get together with those who are living Shalom and seek to be even more encouraging of one another. I can’t express the joy of walking with students and adults as we embrace the gift of shalom that God has given us. In storms, we walk on water. In conflict, we are peaceful. When fractures happen, we are agents of restoration. When fear attacks our hearts, we are shielded by the shalom of God. And so, so much more.

In the next two weeks, hand-written notes along with this sticker will go out to those who were a part of our Shalom weekend. I want to challenge and encourage (stoke the flame of) young people who are living in our postmodern world where peace is vaporous and stability is fleeting. Because in Shalom, we are sure-footed, we are bold, we are water-walkers, and we are reflections of the wholeness, the completeness, and the peace that God alone can give us.

Over the years, I’ve had several people ask me about my calling, specifically my calling into ministry. People are fascinated for a variety of reasons, and I’m always happy to share my story. My most recent opportunity came just yesterday when a young person who’s sensing and following their own call to ministry wanted to hear more of the details of my call. I gave them the abridged version, for sake of time and efficiency. I can’t and won’t promise the same thing here.

Do you mind if I tell you a short story? It’ll help connect the dots as we dig into the idea of calling.

My youngest son’s birthday was last week. He works at a hospital, and I thought it would be nice to have lunch with him on his birthday on his lunchbreak. This hospital’s parking lot is always crowded, so I had to park far from the main building and starting the long walk toward the hospital. 

As I walked, I heard a very faint, barely audible voice “Help me!”. It was barely above the decibel level of a light breeze. I turned my head side to side to see if I could see anything that matched what I imagined I heard but saw nothing. So, I kept walking. Ten to twenty feet later, I hear something again: “Can someone help me?” This time, it seems a bit louder and more urgent. This time, loud enough to stop me in my tracks. I again looked around, this time more intently trying to find the source of the distress call. Nothing. No one. I kept walking.

Another several seconds and paces pass. A third time, “Can someone help over here, please! We need help!” Okay, that’s it. Lunch would have to wait. I had to find out where that cry for help was coming from. I looked across the parking lot and saw a woman waving her arms in the air at me. I ran over and as I got closer, saw another set of feet—these belonging to a person on the ground between the parked cars. I said, “I’ll go get help” and I ran toward the Emergency Room entrance of the hospital. As I approached, I saw a doctor who had likely just ended his shift and was walking out. I told him there was a medical emergency in the parking lot and we both went into the Emergency Room to get more help. (Shout out to this weary doctor who undoubtedly just wanted to go home.) Within moments a team of nurses were following me as I pointed out where the person in need was located. As I turned and headed back toward the hospital, I saw another group of 2-3 nurses, with a hospital bed rolling in the direction of the person on the ground. So, I turned back toward the need and directed them as well. Confident that the help had found the helpless, I took a deep breath and continued on my way to lunch. 

You know what? I need to share another story to connect another dot. I’ll make it quick.

My teenage years were pretty normal. I did school, played in the band, dabbled in theater (with the varsity letter to prove it), and lived to hang out with my friends. Then I started dating a girl. She was a great girl, but that relationship drove me to make disastrous decisions that systematically destroyed every other relationship in my life. For the sake of time, that’s as detailed as I’ll get right now. Suffice it to say, I had made a complete mess of my life. Toward the end of that period, I went to a Christian music festival called “Creation” in Altoona, PA. It was June 1990. I sat in a sea of twelve-thousand people and listened to a message by Tony Campolo. But far as I was concerned, I was the only person in that open field. God spoke so clearly to me about where I had been, Who He was/is, and His love for me. I had wrecked my life and every relationship in it, and with every right to reject me, Jesus embraced me with grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness. If you’ve been in a similar place, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t been there, I only hope you will, perhaps without the pain that I brought upon myself. Standing in the middle of the ashes my life had become, Jesus was there with me, ready to heal, ready to help, ready to restore me completely. My eyes are welling up now thinking about it. Thirty-three or so years later, I’m still overwhelmed by His love for a “wretch like me”. As I stood up in the middle of that field in Altoona, PA I spoke a very simple prayer, one that I still repeat to this day. It was a prayer of full surrender. I meant it then, and I mean it today. 

When I think about my own calling, and I share my story with others, or try and advise those who are wrestling with their own sense of calling, I tell them the decision I made in that field in Pennsylvania on that warm June night. My calling wasn’t really a calling, at least not as you might imagine it would be. It was kind of an non-calling. All I knew was that I was broken, Jesus was healing, and there was only one response that made any sense. You’ll find this in Paul’s words to the Church in Rome in the first century. Read Romans 12:1 sometime. In light of what Jesus had done, the surrender of my life to Him was the only logical decision. I didn’t have a sky-splitting revelation of a grand future as a pastor, missionary, or evangelist. I didn’t really have a vision at all. I only knew what He did and offered my life to Him as a result. That was my calling. 

So how does someone recognize and reconcile the sense of calling they have? I wish I had a nice, neat formula, but then again I’m glad I don’t. I don’t believe it’s as neat and tidy as plugging variables into an equation and having it produce the answer for you. But let me see if I can give some handles to grab in this issue of calling. Here are some questions I’d offer to someone seeking to define their calling:

1. What has Jesus done for you and what is your response to Him? Be specific.
2. What has God put in your hands in terms of skills, passions, talents, and resources?
3. Where has God placed within you a hunger for helping humanity find the Healer?
4. What makes you angry? What do you see in our world that makes you say, “That isn’t right, and something’s got to be done about it”?
5. Are you willing to release the world’s opinion of you, and the world’s definition of success in order to be obedient to God’s directing voice in your life? 

These questions are by no means exhaustive, but I pray they are a starting point to help you define and embrace God’s calling on your life. And let me be clear: I reject the idea that calling equals full-time ministry or vocational ministry. I believe God calls people to be plumbers, retail workers, CEOs, lawyers, teachers, bakers, baristas, mechanics, contractors, nurses, and yes…even pastors. 

Back to that hospital parking lot. My calling is to listen closely for the cries for help in today’s generation. My calling is to point the helpless to the Help and to introduce the Help to the helpless. Flawed cracked pot that I am, I know who the Help, Healing, and Hope for humanity is. And I live to connect the helpless with the Help. That’s my calling. 

Quite an ambitious title, wouldn’t you say? Would anyone dare suggest that the exhaustion 75% of people (according to research) feel can be affected and even transformed into anything resembling exhilaration? This is what I’d like to address.

There’s a dramatically high percentage of people who have reported feelings of exhaustion and “burn out” in regards to their work life. Because we are humans and not machines, that sense of exhaustion doesn’t turn off at a certain time, like when we leave the workplace. It bleeds into and poisons all other areas of our lives.

For many of us, our headspace is what most establishes the healthfulness or disease we find in our workplace. This will be the ball of yarn we’ll bat around and unravel as we discuss this idea of exhaustion to exhilaration. And please don’t think that I think I have all the answers. But as I look around at those in my life and as I look at the cultural landscape and as I move around my community and overhear conversations, see worn faces, and experience the milieu, there’s something amiss.

If there’s going to be a move from one to the other, it’s going to be because a few things are firmly in place. Put simply, without these things in place there’ll always be a wobble to (or collapse of) the table we’re seeking to set for ourselves.

First, I want to invite you along with me into an exercise that might seem far too whimsical to be practical. But let’s just see where it goes. What I’m going to do and invite you to do along with me is to create a vision of your ideal existence (confessing that where you are isn’t it). That vision will do several things for you, but most importantly it will create the backdrop as well as the driving imagery you can make future decisions against. I’d wager that the reason we’re in the condition we’re in is largely because we don’t do the work of creating a vision to hold daily choices up to in order to see if they match up with where we actually want to go.

Here’s my ideal existence: I’m living in a place surrounded by nature. I have a body of water nearby, preferably a river or ocean, but I’d even be okay with a wide stream. I have a front porch and a back deck, each with sink-in comfy seating. I have a place to create. The creative process is what gives me such joy. The words I’m typing right now are part of that joy. I simply love to create; blog posts, woodworking, building, whittling, graphic design, drawing, writing my next message I’ll communicate to a group of people (large or small), and anything where something wasn’t there before and now it is. In my ideal existence, I get to connect with and influence/disciple young lives. I get to have a meaningful voice, not for my own ego but to share with them what’s real and true for the purpose of helping them step into and live the life that is the best fit for them. This might be in the local church setting, on a university campus as a professor or a chaplain, or it might be in some other complexion of being able to interact with the younger generation. When visioning happens within us, we are empowered to cut free from lesser versions that end up being depleting and exhausting.

It’s at this point that you need to resist the temptation to argue with your vision. Don’t bemoan the fact that it’s unrealistic or too far-fetched. After all, it’s your vision. Of course it feels that way. You’re just experiencing the tension between what is and what could/will be. I’ve done this a lot over the years and its never helpful…

I listen to a fair amount of podcasts that have to do with leadership, goals, planning, influence, forward motion, etc. And each time I do, I struggle to not internally dispense with a long list of grumpy reasons why they can and I can’t. I think things like “Well, of course they can say that. They’re on the New York Times best seller list.” or “That’s easy for you to say; you don’t have the demands, the schedule, or the stresses I have to carry.” I’ll even confess to you with a tinge of shame that I’ve even thought, “I can’t stand the way this guy enunciates. He’s always so chipper and positive. If we switched places, my life would knock that chipper right out of his mouth. Must be nice to humble-brag about your ‘green room conversations’ with so-and-so movers, shakers, and thought leaders. The only way I’ll ever see the inside of a green room is if I found some green paint on the ‘Oops, we mixed the wrong color’ sale section at Home Depot and painted my lousy room baby-crap green.”

We become exhausted when we don’t have any stake in the ground of our ideal existence. Even a few inches of ground can make a difference. If my boss is a complete hard-nosed, overly demanding psychopath seemingly determined to drive us and our joy into the ground BUT we have carved out a niche where there’s a glimpse of that vision that we can enjoy, then we can endure until we gain a few inches more.

The move from exhaustion to exhilaration is found in the often-times tiny movements from our current reality to our ideal reality. What might feel like a thousand mile journey is impacted by even the slightest progress, isn’t it? And where that progress is present, so is hope. And hope is an undeniable fuel in the journey.

So after you’ve created your ideal existence vision, choose any part of it that you can act on. Let’s say that part of your ideal existence involves driving a Karmann Ghia. Awesome. (Great choice, by the way.) Open up a separate account with your online bank and label it “Ghia”. Every paycheck, add $5, $10, $50 to that account. Celebrate the wins. Put an alert on your Ebay app so that when a Ghia becomes available, you know it. Become an expert on the specs of Karmann Ghias. Let that knowledge drive (pun intended) you to keep that vision of wind whipping through your Ghia-blown hair alive and well as you move inch-by-inch toward that key dangling from your keyring. You see, it isn’t just the attaining of the vision, but the achievements toward attaining the vision that are so empowering.

When I was learning to drive, I learned a rather valuable lesson for life as well as staying alive behind the wheel. When you turn your head while driving, you probably–without noticing it–turn your shoulders (even slightly) as well. This inadvertently turns the wheel ever so slightly. Without you realizing it, turning your head causes the wheel to turn. The lesson: You’ll go where you’re looking.

So I’ve got to ask: Where have you been looking? I’d bet that more than likely you’re right where your sight has led you. But vision is different than seeing. Bring that vision into the forefront and daily make decisions that propel that vision. Let’s call these “vision decisions”. One day during a round of golf with my dad, we decided together that we’d change our definition of a good shot as “closer to the hole”. That’s it. I could top the ball, slice it, hook it, shank it, or anything else you could do when trying to hit a golf ball. As long as it moved closer to the hole, that was a good shot. Maybe you need to redefine for yourself what a good shot is, and celebrate them. One vision decision per day. Super doable.

Next, bring in outside help. I’ve said it before and it bears repeating: Deciding to do something and telling no one about it is as good as not deciding to do anything. So who’s it gonna be? I have a person on my life that I meet with every other Wednesday. We keep track of direction, decisions, and vision and I tell him where I’m at with the vision I hold. It has quickly become one of my favorite meetings. I look forward to it every time, even when I haven’t moved forward much because I know it’s going to help me recalibrate and reset. So, who’s your outside help?

I recently read “Liturgy of the Ordinary” by Tish Harrison Warren. It’s such a great book. In it, Tish walks us through what would we would think is another mundane day and shows us where and how to see and experience the presence of God, even in the moments that are seemingly unremarkable. She pulls back the veil that oftentimes clouds our vision and stops us from seeing things in a far better light than just “that was another Monday”. In the closing chapter, Warren talks about sleep and its impact has on our entire existence. I wonder how you’re doing in that department? Most adult humans in America are not doing great when it comes to rest. The attitude seems to be that there’s not enough time and too much to do. But the issue of rest is so pivotal not just for your body, but for your mind, heart, and spirit as well. Think honestly about how you can get more of the rest you need. Do you even know how many hours your body needs? (I’ve learned my optimal amount is 7 hours exactly.) Make a decision about earlier bed times, midday mindfulness and mental rest exercises, naps, or a better approach to structuring your daily/weekly workload so it’s not so overloaded. If you’d like to see the tool I’m currently using to structure my week, email me and I’ll send you a copy. Figure out how to gain an extra hour of sleep tonight. Next week, add another half hour. In a week’s time, you’ve gain a whole extra hour of sleep. Go for another one if necessary. See what happens.

The most powerful step you can take is your next step. And I don’t mean to downplay it, but it doesn’t matter much what it is–just that you simply take it. So, decide. Are you going to make that call? Set that appointment? Invest in that tool to help you move toward that goal? Structure the day differently? Seek the advice of that person in the field who’s out there doing what looks a lot like your vision? Just decide.

We’ll move from exhaustion to exhilaration when we keep the vision God has placed in our hearts at the forefront of our minds, and make daily decisions that align with that vision, moving us in the direction of where we truly want to go. We’ll move from exhaustion to exhilaration when we release the excuses, the “yeah, but’s”, and the pride that so often keeps us from the forward motion we desire. We’ll move from exhaustion to exhilaration when we lift up our head and begin to see the opportunities instead of the obstacles. We’ll move from exhaustion to exhilaration when we take even the smallest step from where we are to where we’re going.

As always, I’d love to hear from you on anything you’ve read here. What steps are taking? What obstacles are you facing? I’d love the chance to encourage you and share with you on an even more personal level what I’ve been through, experienced, and how I wrestle to overcome those things. Email me at jvarner@southsidechurchva.org or text me at (804) 304-4669.