Thanksgiving Struggles

If you spend much time at all online, I'm confident you've seen the sentiment being shared about all of the awfulness of 2020. It's a fair complaint, I think. This year has been rough for many people in many ways. 

For me too, really. The year 2020 has been a tough one overall. 

Our family did not face the sort of economic pressures that many did, as our jobs are secure and we were often able to work from home as needed. But we have also been very aware of how we are spending money and wanting to be stewardly and frugal in a just-in-case sort of way. I recognize the privilege of this position, even as I write this. But it's still something I think about, and an added pressure.

Pandemic teaching has stretched me far out of my comfort zone; I think this has been my most difficult year of teaching (so far) since my first year. The spring emergency distance teaching adventure was stressful. This fall's revolving door of students in and out of quarantine has been stressful, not to mention dual-mode teaching with most of my students as "roomies" in our face-to-face class meeting and a handful of "zoomies" joining in via web conference. The emotional labor of teaching has never felt more palpable and demanding.

Likewise, our church has been in a very difficult spot with our pastor abruptly resigning this spring. I've been serving as an elder, so this has been an extra burden of congregational care for me. The challenges of dealing with pandemic decision-making related to how and when we should meet, which ministries we should try to continue in the short term, and how to keep encouraging faithful worship and discipleship have been taxing.

And then the political drama of 2020: ooof! With all the political polarization in the U.S. this year--and all of the related ridiculousness on social media--several formerly-close personal relationships have been strained, with some of them perhaps irretrievably damaged. (Time will tell, I guess?) More than this, the social distancing of pandemic quarantining has left me feeling more socially-isolated than normal in spite of spending even more time online than normal. And while I have a pretty strong introverted streak, this has left me craving more normal social interaction. I miss being able to go out regularly and easily. But I'm willing to make the sacrifices for communal good, and trying to protect the most vulnerable folks in our community as much as possible. That said...I will be happy to be done with masks!

And...having COVID-19 was no picnic either! Overall, I can't complain too much--my case was pretty mild, all things considered. But even though I've been over it for several weeks now, I still find myself tiring out easily. And I worry about the long-term effects that we don't yet know. How concerned should I be about a lingering cough, and a little tiredness?

All together, this has added up to an emotionally exhausting year. And we aren't even to the end of it yet!

This week was Thanksgiving. Honestly, I wasn't feeling very thankful coming into the week. It was a crazy busy week for me with preparing for completing our academic semester (after a short Thanksgiving break) online. I had a lot of extra meetings with students and colleagues on Monday-Wednesday. And along with this, my wife and I were preparing to lead worship at our church's Thanksgiving Eve evening service on Wednesday.

And that's where things came together for me. In our Thanksgiving Eve service, our guest pastor (Ben Wiersma, who is a gem) preached on 1 Chronicles 29:10-20. This passage is mostly a prayer of King David, in response to the generosity of the gifts people had given to build the Temple. But it's significant that David's prayer is mostly a prayer of praise and thanksgiving to God and not about the things the people had, but about who God is. This really hit me...because so often Thanksgiving is about saying "thanks" for stuff. 

The song of response we sang was "Goodness of God" and it just hit me: this song might be my theme song for 2020. It helped me reframe (again!) that it's not about me. The chorus of this song goes like this:

And all my life You have been faithful 

And all my life You have been so, so good 

With every breath that I am able 

Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

If you aren't familiar with the song, here's a recording by one of the Dordt worship teams from this past spring--this video was used at our livestreamed commencement ceremony earlier this year:

The combination of this message from Ben and this song has been such a great reset for me...and it's helping me get over myself a little bit. The song keeps running through my head, and I keep coming back to the message of who God is as something for which I can (and should) give thanks. 

Is this a panacea that has suddenly snapped me out of my 2020 funk? Nope. But it's helping me reframe, and find that there are many things I am actually thankful for.

I love my wife and kids, and while it was stressful for all of us to be together so much throughout the spring and summer, we had a lot of great times to make memories. I'm grateful that we largely grew closer together through this experience.

I love my work, and I am so, so grateful for the team of educators I get to teach alongside. Not to mention the incredible future teachers I have the opportunity to serve!

I love my church, and while it has been a rough year, I'm grateful to walk with these people, even through the hard times.

I love my extended family and friends, and I am truly grateful that we've been able to keep in touch via technology, even when we can't always meet up.

I love that my health has been good enough that I met my goal of biking 2000 miles this year. In fact, I've pedaled 2020 miles for 2020--and I'm grateful that my body is functioning well overall.

It has been easy for me to lose sight of things that are actually important and the places where I can--and should--be giving thanks. There have been struggles, real struggles this year. But I am also thankful in spite of the struggles. 

God has been good to me; His goodness is running after me.

Take My World Apart

I've been playing my guitar a lot more regularly at home lately. I'm not 100% sure what that's about. Often I gravitate toward playing when I'm feeling sad, or upset, or having other big feelings that I don't really want to talk about, and instead they come out through the strings of my guitar. Tonight I wasn't really feeling any big feelings, but I still headed to the basement and pulled out my guitar for a while to make some music. 

I know my limitations as a musician. I can play fine enough--particularly if I have the chords for a song--I can play pretty much anything, but it won't necessarily sound like it does on the radio. I mostly make a joyful noise, if you know what I mean.

I got my first guitar as a high schooler. I was 16, and I took lessons for a few months. I learned enough to get started, but I didn't exactly take to it immediately. But my guitar came with me to college, and I think that's where I really started to learn for real. I still have some chord sheets that I printed off from the On-Line Guitar Archive in the mid 1990s. (Ah, OLGA...I remember you when...) Maybe you can picture me with a mop of blonde hair (with a center part, because, you know, the mid 90s) and wearing flannel and jeans with holes in the knees, strumming away on my acoustic guitar in my apartment? I can admit now that I harbored some secret dream of being part of an acoustic alternative rock group--it was the age of MTV unplugged and all that, after all! But that's a late-adolescent imagination, I suppose.

Still, it's funny how the songs I played then are the ones I still know by heart. "Time" by Hootie and the Blowfish. "Run Around" by Blues Traveler. "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something. "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers. "Untitled" by Collective Soul. "Walk on the Ocean" by Toad the Wet Sprocket. "All for You" by Sister Hazel. "The Freshman" by the Verve Pipe. "Lightning Crashes" by Live. (Oh, so many songs...) Some of these bands you might know...others probably not. But they left a mark on me, and they are still part of me.

And, of course, my favorite band of all from that era, Jars of Clay. Jars was my go-to Christian band for...well, honestly, for the past 25 years. As my taste in music has changed and expanded over the years, this is one band that stuck: I'm a forever-fan of these guys, and the way they take their faith so seriously, and the way it informs their musicianship. Their self-titled first album...I must have listened to that one a hundred times during the 1995-96 school year. And, here I am 25 years later... and I can still play many of those songs off the top of my head--by heart.

But it's interesting how we talk about "knowing songs by heart," isn't it? Somehow, these songs that I played so often in my apartment got deep inside of me, into...my heart?

And tonight, that's where I was, in the basement, strumming and singing. Like it was the spring of 1996...I was playing one of my very favorite Jars songs, "Worlds Apart." If you're not familiar with the song, I'd welcome you to take a listen:

I love these lyrics. I love the music of this one. The poetry of this song speaks to me.

And in this contemporary moment, where everyone--me too!--seems outraged about everything, maybe this is the prayer that I need to be praying again. (Maybe you too?)

I am the only one to blame for this 
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus
I collide

With a world I try so hard

To leave behind

To rid myself of all but love

To give and die

...

To love you, take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, broken on my knees 

All said and done I stand alone
Amongst the remains of life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me

Did you really have to die for me? 
All I am for all you are
Because what I need
And what I believe
Are worlds apart
And I pray 

To love you, take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees 

To love you, take my world apart

To need you, broken on my knees 

...

Not out of any self-righteousness here...but I needed to sing this song tonight. I needed to pray these words tonight. I need to get over myself. I need to stop thinking so highly of myself, and my opinions, and my self-assumed rightness, as if I can look down my nose at people who think differently than I do, judging them as wrong, because I must be right.

Right now, I'm feeling that I need to humble myself a little bit. Try to be a little more like Jesus. Stop trying so hard to build my own kingdom, and care more about building His. 

Take my world apart.

Certainly this is not scripture...its poetry, music. 

Take my world apart. 

But I think this song captures the gospel.

Take my world apart.

Help me to care more about loving You, loving my neighbors, loving my fellow humans who are created in Your image, loving this world you have made.

Take my world apart, Jesus. 

And let me step more and more into Your world, Your kingdom, Your way of being.

Do the Next Right Thing

I am grateful that I have colleagues who check in on me regularly. My dear friend and colleague in the office next door asked me this morning how the weekend was, and I shared a few of the highs and lows. I'm feeling a lot of anxiety and concern for the church, and the world, and our fractured political climate in the US right now, but being able to share this with a friend who really listens sure helps. As we concluded our short conversation, he reminded me that sometimes we just need to "do the next right thing."

And so, I headed to my office and got on to the many tasks of the day...and I found a song from Frozen 2 running in my head...

And, perhaps strangely, I'm thinking about Psalm 119:105 right now:

Your word is a lamp to my feet

and a light to my path.

I once heard a sermon where my pastor pointed out that the psalmist doesn't say God's word is a spotlight that makes every step on the path clear to us. It's a lamp, perhaps so dim that it only gives enough light for us to see our feet on a dark and unfamiliar path, enough light for us to take the next step on the journey. And that's what faith is about, I think. Not that we have every step of the journey plotted out, but that we have confidence that God goes with us on every step of the journey, and that He already knows the path ahead of us, and that's enough.

And I guess that's my reflection for today. Not the "gospel according to Disney," or anything like that. But when I feel like my world is too chaotic and out of control, I'll just take the next step in faith, make the next move that I can in harmony with the message of the gospel, ...and "do the next right thing," trusting that God goes with me, and that's enough for today.