When Life Gives You Sh*t, Make Fertilizer

“Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident.”

~Psalm 27:3

“Do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose”

~C.S. Lewis

Have you ever heard anyone say: “What I’d really like for my 30^th birthday is a colonoscopy”? No? Well, that’s what I got, then one month later, a laparoscopy, then five days after that (this last Saturday) I received the gift of an auto collision!

The last month or two haven’t been the best of my life, neither were the twelve or so that preceded them, which included getting my heart broken by the man I loved, visiting the ER, and moving into my mother’s place.

Now, before you assume you’re about to attend a pity party, I would like to insert a BIG BUT… 

BUT, these things do not define me nor do they define my existence.

Though I shed many tears, vocalized some profanities, and turned to a few glasses of wine, ultimately, through it all I always returned to my hopeful disposition. Why? Well, not only is the alternative (self-pitying, disaster-dwelling) disposition not conducive to a joyful and meaning-filled life, but also, the LORD has shown me that He loves and leads me, and the best way to allow Him to do so is to give Him my tears and do my best not to try and take them back.

Life can give us sh*t. Sometimes it flings sh*t at us like a chimp in a zoo. The way I see it is: the best thing to do with that sh*t isn’t to dwell in it and smear it around only to muck up our entire existence. No, the best thing to do with sh*t is to make fertilizer.

Nothing grows in a pigsty (aside from the stench), but so much can grow in fertilized soil.

I bet you’ve all heard this before: God throws more sh*t at those He knows to have the strongest potential (did your mind just go back to my chimp imagery? Sorry. Luckily, I believe God has an amazing sense of humor). This expression has become a bit cliché, making it easy to brush off and ignore. However, it also happens to be true (think of Job!).

So, what does it look like to make fertilizer out of the sh*t of life? We all innately know that it is best to take heart and move forward. But, how do we do it? Especially when we are right in the eye of the  sh*t storm?

Making fertilizer is seeking God’s Wisdom. When you read Scripture and hear the stories of God’s most cherished people, there are two factors that are always present: They suffer through great trials and they cry out to God for guidance. Being pursued by his enemies did not keep David from singing “Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning, for in you I put my trust. Teach me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul” (Psalm 143:8).

Making Fertilizer is stepping out of the worry and onto His path. Once I was able to step away from the pain and worry of my sh*tty circumstances, I was able to see their fertilizing capabilities. For example, going to the ER put me on the path of taking my physical pain seriously and being left without a job provided me with the time needed to visit doctors and get the rest necessary for healing.

Making Fertilizer is Giving Him praise and realizing that your circumstances don’t have to define you. I am writing this, in the middle of a sh*t storm, with a heart swelling of love and praise for God. I praise Him at present, not because my problems have disappeared, but because, despite the fact that they are still flying straight at me, it is well with my soul.

I still don’t have a medical diagnosis, but it is well with my soul.

I still don’t have a source of reliable income, but it is well with my soul.

I am still dealing with car insurance claims, but it is well with my soul…

The point here is: for the remainder of our time in this world, we will continue to have to dodge sh*t being thrown at us from different directions (c’est la vie), but we don’t have to let it dirty up our lives. We can use it to encourage growth and a closer walk with God (c’est l’amour de l’Eternel).

I have been met with much suffering during my three decades on this earth, but O! how I’ve grown from it! I met God through trials, learned to love Him through tragedy, and came to trust Him through tribulation.

Handing our problems over to God does not mean giving up, it means being human. To be human is to have limits, yet continue to move forward. To be perfectly human is to do so with the strength of God and knowledge that He is always there with a plan and joy unending.

The Free Man's Prison

Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews then said, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking about the temple of his body. When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the Scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken. 

~John 2:19-22~

In the desert of the heart,

Let the healing fountain start;

In the prison of his days,

Teach the free man how to praise.

~W.H. Auden

We are arriving at the end of lent, this is the point when many people are coming off of a purge and preparing for a binge. Whether you gave up soda, shopping, or sarcasm, it's likely that right about now, you're ready for a fix.  

But, hopefully this experience has been one of growth and all are realizing that Lent and fasting isn't just about letting go of things and feeling the sacrifice of their absence; it's about preparing ourselves for God and making room for His presence in our lives. 

Because we are free creatures we have the capability to choose for ourselves what fills our lives. The problem is that there are so many choices; we have so much stuff surrounding us in life that distracts and has the capability of imprisoning us.

The free man's prison is made up of his own devices. Relying solely on self shuts out others and closes us off from greater possibilities and a more promising life. When we attempt to build our future by our own strength and works alone, we are simply erecting a prison in which to exist, not a life in which to prosper.

Truly living means taking the gift of free will and using it to choose to give God precedence in our lives.

Humans are really good at taking good things and tainting them; we strip beauty and depth out of experiences by trying to simplify that which is wondrous and compartmentalize that which is complex.

We condemn the actions of others because it is easier than caring about their hearts. We try to achieve perfection on our own because it is less painful than allowing God to work in us. We build temples because we want a concrete place to which we can turn, a physical door that we can open with our own power.

Prison is loneliness; it is separation from love and meaning. Often in an effort to clasp onto freedom, we try to create meaning by building temples from the ground, when the most freeing thing we can do is to put down our hammers and lift up our hands in praise of the grace and mercy that God has bestowed upon us.

The only temple that man can conceive of without Christ is one founded on human pride. 

Jesus' crucifixion has redeemed us and His resurrection has shattered our conceptions of life and death. He taught us that true life comes after death. Luckily, we don't have to wait until our bodily death to partake of the life He offers; we simply have to die to self.

Sometimes our temples need to be torn down in order for us to truly live and for proper righteousness to be restored.

The escape from the free man's prison may be simple, but it surely isn't easy. Though, as we've all heard before: few things worth having come easily. So, it logically follows that the road to a meaningful life is the most rewardingly tragic struggle that any of us will ever face.

The Mystery of Personality

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. 

~Psalm 139:13-16~

Within the last few weeks I have twice faced the reality of death. This has made me think of my life and how much it is reflecting (if at all) the person that I  am. I have taken a good look at myself and asked: am I living as my true self or as an image that others have projected onto me?

I don't know about you, but I love it when I have time to re-visit some classic literature. This week I was reminded of my most recent encounter with Marcel Proust's Swann's Way. I remembered that as I sat down with a cup of coffee and enveloped myself in the book, I thought of the great felicity that comes with Proust's writing; his artful prose and epic sentences are known to stir up memories long forgotten, awaken new insights, and expose neglected realities.

Perhaps I am giving Proust too much credit. However, his words scratched on the surface of my mind, calming an itch I had learned to ignore.

As I was reading the story of Swann in Love, one aside seemed to scream from the page:

"For one thing love and death have in common, more than those vague resemblances people are always talking about, is that they make us question more deeply, for fear that its reality will slip away from us, the mystery of personality."

Proust is speaking of the love a man has for a woman, and no doubt he does this justice, but as I read this I could not help but think of the deepest love I have ever known and will ever know, l'Amour de Dieu. 

God's love is so strong, pure, eternal, and genuine. There is no reason to fear that it will fade away or that He will lose interest and leave us. Yet, for some reason, despite His affirmation that His love is True and deep, we fear. What is it that we fear? We fear that we will lose ourselves, just as a man can lose himself in a woman or a woman in a man.

In Proust's book, when Swann realizes that he is in love with Odette, he shifts his interests to be the same as hers, he drives himself mad and completely alters his life in order to please her and keep her interest. This is all too common an occurance when people "fall in love", so it is only natural that we would compare this to devoting our lives to God.

When I first decided to give my life over to God, I was afraid. I was afraid that I would have to become a completely different person. I wondered: does this mean that I will no longer be able to make jokes? People think I'm funny (at least I think they do) and I enjoy making them laugh... will they continue to enjoy my company? Does this mean I will have to like completely different things? I enjoy "secular" music and books... will I be able to relate to other Christians? Will I still be me, or will I have a completely different personality?

I believe we are all born with unique personalities. One can find evidence of this in the behavior of infants and young children. As we grow, our outlooks and actions are influenced by outside sources, such as our parents and geographical location. But, can anything alter the very essence of who we are? Do our personalities ever change?

In Christ I did change, but not into a person that wasn't myself. I gained a healthier outlook on life and my actions started to reflect those of a person less concerned with self and more concerned with others. Though I did change, my personality remained; I continued to make jokes (albeit, my jokes became less inappropriate), enjoy rock 'n roll, and read Proust novels. By succumbing and diving completely into God's love, I simply changed into a better version of myself. I found my true self. 

In Him, our personalities are fulfilled, not stifled. After all, it was He who made us who we are in the first place. 

So, Proust was right: as in death, in love we fear the loss of self; we fear that we will cease to be. However, in True Love there is no need to fear because the true self blossoms. God's love gives our personalities  room to breathe and the strength to come to the surface.

Joy In a Time of Melancholy

The hope of the righteous brings joy,

but the expectation of the wicked will perish.

~Proverbs 10:28~

For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart.

~Ecclesiastes 5:20~

You've heard it said that "life is a gift", but have you ever wished that it were a gift that you could exchange, or even return? I have. O, bitter melancholy! It makes you feel helpless and worthless and makes life seem meaningless. And unfortunately, it's not something that, once defeated, is forever gone; it returns over and over again. 

So, if life is folly, as Solomon said, what keeps us from giving up and fermenting in the bile of our sorrows?

Good fortune is a requisite for happiness. When things go wrong in life we become unhappy. The word happy is connected to the word happenstance, meaning that our happiness is dependent upon our circumstances: the happenings of our lives.

It's no wonder people chase money, power, and lustful pleasures: they really do make us happy! The problem is not finding happiness, the trouble is keeping it. Happiness is fleeting. Happiness is grounded in life here and now; by its own definition, we cannot be happy all of the time. 

And then there's joy. Many use joy as a synonym for happiness, but they are two different creatures. Joy can exist in the midst of bad fortune; it can be present regardless of circumstance. Joy is eternal. Joy is rooted in hope and promise. It is steadfast for it comes from our God. Joy gets its strength from the future and it is the source of delight. Joy looks to possibility.

Happiness is an effect; joy is a cause.

We are obsessed with happiness. There are even websites dedicated to happifying our minds and training us to be more satisfied with life. This is all good and well, but maybe we are focusing on the wrong things. Maybe happiness is not the answer (not to say we should not pursue it, it is our right as Americans after-all). Maybe we can't get no satisfaction (insert Mick Jagger voice here) because we are looking in the wrong place. Though the stuff of this life can bring us happiness, the grace that God freely gives offers us a joy that lasts forever. 

When you've got that joy (joy, joy, joy) down in your heart (where?), melancholy doesn't ruin your life and render it meaningless. Joy picks you up, joy gives you reason to keep on truckin' through heartbreak, disappointment, struggle, and all the other crap that life throws your way. 

Joy means thriving despite sadness. 

I would never claim that I am a "happy" person, yet I laugh and smile every day. I have lived a life full of pain and lingering sorrow, but I have persevered. I am a maker of delicious lemonade because I know that this life and all of its lemons are not all there is. As Psalm 30:5 says: "Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning."

 

I Bet You Think This Blog Is About You

Those of low estate are but a breath;

those of high estate are a delusion;

in the balances they go up;

they are together lighter than a breath. 

~Psalm 62:9, ESV~

Breaking up is hard to do. It is difficult to cope with suddenly having an empty space in your life that used to be filled with someone you loved. Whether it be due to unrequited love, difference in beliefs, betrayal, distance, or other life changes, a relationship’s end is not something that you immediately move past.

One thing I have found helps me work through the emotions that come with relational change, is writing songs. There is something freeing about putting my feelings to words and then words to paper; the process of my turmoil becoming rhythmic relieves my burdens and steadies the beating of my heart.

Not too long ago, I sat mourning the loss of a love, experiencing the hurt of feeling expendable. I wrote lyrics that expressed my thoughts toward a love that didn’t care about me as much as I cared about him. Later, I read what I wrote and I thought: Have I ever made someone feel this way; have songs like this been written about me? 

An even more humbling thought: how often do I make God feel this way? I can’t possibly love Him as much as He loves me.

I would posit that David often had similar thoughts. We see in his psalms that he had many relational struggles with men, women, and God. This giant-slaying musician king was no stranger to anguish.

One thing I appreciate about the Bible is that it does not allow us to lift too high its “heroes”. We aren’t just told about the good in the men and women God called, but we are informed of the bad and ugly as well. 

There is a reason why Scripture includes the messy bits. Being human is a messy disposition. Even David, the man after God’s own heart, did things that wrecked the lives of others (adultery, murder). Reading about the mistakes of God’s chosen heroes, and experiencing those we make ourselves, is meant to humble us. No one, especially self, is to be lifted above the LORD. 

It is easy to fall into the traps of sorrow that lead to self-centeredness. It is important that we not only process our pain, but know when to step outside of it to recognize the impact that we have on the lives of others. Just as we are capable of sharing an immense amount of love, we are capable of causing an extreme amount of harm. When we focus too often on self, we don’t see how we hurt those around us, and how we ignore God.

Our emotions are legitimate and should not be brushed aside. However, none of us should assume we are the only ones that get left battered by relational disturbances. Every soul hurts. When we are lacerated by grief, we must face it with God so that we can mend and grow instead of increasing its negative impact and passing it on to others.

So, write a song or sing a song to get through your tears, but do so with the awareness that there are others out there doing the same. That song you’re singing may just be about you.