Intersection

Val often tells me a story about how brother attending church.  Her brother is an extremely talented guy.  I knew him before I met her and we had some good times growing up.  Over the years, he had visited a church or two but never really found one he’d liked.

The story goes that he was visiting a church where the youth pastor happened to do the message that Sunday.  He did the sermon barefoot first off (something that would weird me out also) then started talking about how great his life was.

The moment you hear a supposed man or woman of God talk about how great their life is and how you never suffer as one who follows Jesus, feel free to get up and head towards the door.  You’d learn more about Jesus at the Dunkin Donuts down the road.

The church stigmatized anxiety in a world full of it.

There’s a line in one of my favorite Bret Easton Ellis novels, Lunar Park, that I loveThe gist of the book is Ellis writing himself as the main character with his creations coming to life, including killer Patrick Bateman from his most famous work, American Psycho.

His character states that, as he drove down the road, every intersection was one turn away from a car accident waiting to happen.

The thought has stuck with me for years as a dad and husband.  Many days the car accidents feel one intersection away.

pexels-photo-27702

We are allowed to be anxious.  Yes, friends can rattle off verse after verse about faith and hope, where our help comes from and casting our cares on Jesus. These are all good things.

They can coexist with anxiety.

I heard a pastor once say that faith and fear can’t coexist.

He’s wrong.

I have days of both.  Some weeks Faith is called Monday and Fear is called Tuesday.

As men we often try to pad things.  If you are reading this and married to one of us, know that the waters run deeper than we show. For me it is a constant feeling of electric tension, like a power line running through my chest.  I check my phone more often, waiting for that text message or voicemail of bad news.

Even if none seems on the horizon.

Anxiety opens the door to voices that can try to sell you wrong messages. You start talking circles around the tension in an attempt to beat it down. The words build on the feeling and you end up back where you started, looking at the ceiling as the night drifts past.

If this is you tonight, know that the sun still comes up tomorrow.  The story isn’t over.  Your worries carry an important lesson.  They can be a compass towards a better future.

It takes one step to move forward.  I know it isn’t easy, but movement is the key.

Thomas, the one stating he would only believe Jesus had risen if he appeared in the Upper Room, he personified anxiety and was, by far, one of the most human disciples. He is us.

“Yeah I get it, he’s alive and all, when I see it, I’ll believe. When I touch his wounds, I’ll believe.”

Jesus appears and holds out his hand offering Thomas a chance to do what he asked.  Thomas had to reach out to make it happen.  He could have stayed in his feelings, even staring face to face with Jesus.

He chose to move and see his faith complete.

~Matt

The Beginning of The _nd

The last post and this one combine to give you a preview of one of my upcoming projects.  Here is the introduction to The _nd, a story of transformation, redemption, and a life worth living. I hope you’ll hang in and follow as the story unfolds…

I got down to a knee on the gym floor facing a trio of first graders, my son Carter in the middle of them. The youth basketball game happened behind us. We were getting killed; I mean not even a competition, by a team older and more experienced. The boys were dejected in the special way that young boys can get, faces down, tears just hovering on the surface. I looked at them in the eye.

“It’s not over,” I said.

“Yes it is,” Carter told me. “If we were better, it would be different.”

My father logic searched for an answer. I tried to explain the thinking behind sports and competition, dipping towards an eternal lesson they could take into their adult lives. I pictured them accepting awards one day saying, “this guy that helped my basketball team when I was younger, he told me…”

The best I could do was something about small victories, about taking a fight one step at a time. They nodded. I added some of the usual sports clichés, patted them on their respective shoulders, and went back to yelling instructions at our players across the gym.

How many of us are sitting on the sidelines, heads down, looking to get out?

The opposition seems bigger, stronger, more experienced. The score is not in our favor. It may be real numbers like age or finances. It may be a force like an addiction that will not go away. We try and try, putting in our best shifts on the court, yet nothing works.

So we limp over and wait for the final buzzer.

blue-basketball-american-basket

This project is about more than motivation. I’m not throwing on my spiritual Richard Simmons workout gear. This is about a major shift in our narratives.

For every life is a story.

We are born with divine purpose, called to dreams beyond our belief and comprehension. We are meant to push our limits, exceed expectations, and feed off endless hope.

Then our past kicks in.

We grow and build the stories around us. The first lines often come from parents, positively and negatively. Kids internalize everything. They remember and start shaping stories early

When conflicts come, it is these stories they fall back on. If they are flawed, which humanity dictates they will be, fear and anxiety result.

We must start listening to a new voice. One that tells us the ending has yet to be written on our lives, that we can break free and start fresh, that we can push towards higher destinations on the journey….

Stay tuned and check back as we continue this path of the unwritten ending.  Share with anyone you know needing some hope and I pray you’ll find some too along the way.

~Matt

Writing Your Legend

If you don’t follow Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson on Instagram, start doing so today. He’s entertaining, funny, in shape like a superhero, and an overall genuine guy. Last night I watched his version of Hercules.

I had wanted to see it as when Johnson was shooting the film he posted numerous behind the scenes pics and stories.

In the movie, the director takes a different shot at the usual Mythological Epic. We are given a hero who may, or may not, have lived up to his hype.  He’s at the end of his career working as a mercenary taking out the bad guys for gold. There is a constant interplay between the truth and the stories that set up the truth.

A character asks Johnson, in one of the pivotal scenes, “What do you believe?” He is forced to come to terms with the truth about his life. The legend, and the man, must become one.

hercules-the-rock-trailer

Our roles, as we define them, come with our own legends.  What does it mean to be a father, mother, son, daughter? Employee or supervisor?  What does it mean to be successful?

We hold ourselves up against the image we project. If we do this for too long we end up worn down.

Your coworkers see the supervisor, the sixty-hour week, the large house and luxury car–You see your parents calling you a failure.

Your husband sees a spouse in great shape that has it all together–You look in the mirror and fight to melt away the “imperfections” with just one more hour on the treadmill.

Your son sees a hero–You can’t escape the anxiety that you are getting this parenting thing wrong so hiding behind a cell phone screen is the only way to make it through.

When the self inside doesn’t match up with the self outside, chaos reigns.

Join me and make a goal this fall to get back in balance, to simplify, to strip away the excess in life and gain a clear direction. Know that your story isn’t over. The legend can be the truth.  Start a new journey. Pick up the pen and turn to a blank page.

Your path is waiting…

~Matt