On Preparing for the “Other Shoe to Drop”

Screen Shot 2013-06-16 at 10.35.49 PMMaybe it’s happened to you before too…

You look at your child who may sleeping, or being themselves, or doing something they love …and your heart fills with a rush of joy and good pleasure. This is quickly followed by dread.

“Maybe it’ll all be taken away,” you think.

Maybe something terrible is about to happen. Maybe things won’t work out. Fear.

Or perhaps this sort of dread will surface right after a big personal victory or good news.

It’s like that perfect moment of happiness has a gremlin that pops up and spits on it. For many of us, especially if we endured a bit of pain or disappointment, our Joy is followed by foreboding.

This strange death grip on joy is quite common. With a self-protection machete we slash down joy or happiness with contingency plans and preparation for the worst. Upcoming disappointment won’t catch us on our heals, we think.

It’s all about avoiding feeling vulnerable according to Brené Brown who talks about this in her book Daring Greatly. She’s done the research and says that those who’ve done regular preparation to avoid pain still aren’t prepared when disaster strikes. Instead they are devastated, just like the rest of us. But sadly, they have mortgaged away their joyful moments in on-the-spot while bracing for potential disappointment and pain.

So what can inoculate us from from short selling our joy?

It’s simple: In-the-moment gratitude.

Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, push aside the tormenting doubt, dread, or mistrust. Sideline the foreboding that steals that moment and latch onto to gratitude. Hold on with both hands. Gratitude sustains joy. It’s like a Defense Against the Dark Arts skill, says Brown. She’s right. It works.

It might go something like this, “Oh, my, we’re all picnicking and enjoying a wonderful time outside. No one’s fighting and everyone’s happy to be here. Yes, it might not last, but my how grateful I am in this very moment, this perfect beautiful moment. I’m going to let it soak into my bones. I’m breathing it in.”

Stay with it as long as you can. There is a guiding light in gratitude… and gremlins, as we know, are afraid of light.

The truth is that joy and sorrow are linked. They do a dance our whole lives, really. But, hope and resilience can win the day. That’s an important bit of useful knowledge to give our children, too. With some intention, we can live in the Joy.

Oh, and when the other shoe drops, use it as a planter.

(photo source)

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Vulnerable = Lovable

It’s always an honor to hear someone really share their pain. Not wallow, mind you. Not over-exposing their fiery emotions and gory  details. Something real and raw from a tender and seldom seen place.

The heartfelt wounds that still hurt from some kind of past or unnoticed pain. The cries of the heart. The reaching out to be heard, and then the comfort realized.

It always strikes me that at the very time when someone is most revealed and open they are at the same time supremely vulnerable and yet exquisitely lovable.

Truly human. It’s not just an honor because it is so rare …(it happens usually through time and trust and other options are unfavorable)…it’s an honor because there is within that moment a genuine glimpse of glory.

“The glory of God revealed is the human most fully alive.” -Irenaeus of Lyons

We have a rebirth–a fully alive moment–in those sort of times: Vulnerability through the struggles and between destinations. There the messy becomes beautiful. Redeemed.

Even though it feels really risky, the chance to be truly seen and heard in our vulnerability engenders compassion because what is common between us transcends the boundaries that keep us isolated.

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Only Love Can Tame You

Confession:
I can’t read parts of The Little Prince without weeping.

I’m hardly the weeping type, and yet…

the aching truth on vulnerability and intimacy contained in The Little Prince cuts all the way down to my what turns out to be a gooey marshmallow core; it gets in deep.

In reading The Little Prince,
I learn afresh this:
Only love can tame you. Everything else that tames is just subjugation.

If you like that nugget…<click-here-to-tweet-it>

 

If you’re not familiar with this classic, or even if you are, enjoy this excerpt:

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Excerpt:

…it was then that the fox appeared.
“good morning” said the fox.

“good morning”
the little prince responded politely
although when he turned around he saw nothing.

“I am right here” the voice said, “under the apple
tree.”

“Who are you?” asked the little prince, and added, “You are very pretty to look at.”

“I am a fox”, the fox said.

“Come and play with me,”
proposed the little prince, “I am so unhappy.”

“I cannot play with you,” the fox said,
“I am not tamed.”

“AH please excuse me,”said the little prince.
But after some thought, he added:
“What does that mean—‘tame’?”

“You do not live here,” said the fox,
“what is it you are looking for?”

“I am looking for men,” said the little prince.
“What does that mean—tame?”

“Men,”said the fox,
“they have guns, and they hunt.
It is very disturbing.
They also raise chickens.
These are their only interests.
Are you looking for chickens?”

“No,” said the little prince.
“I am looking for friends.
What does that mean—tame?”

“It is an act too often neglected,”
said the fox.

“It means to establish ties.”

“To establish ties?”

“It’s just that,” said the fox. “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world….”

“Please–tame me!” said the Fox.

“I want to, very much,” the little prince replied. “But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand.”

“One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me . . .”

“What must I do, to tame you?” asked the little prince.

“You must be very patient,” replied the fox. “First you will sit down at a little distance from me–like that–in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . .”

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”

Have you been tamed?

If you haven’t been, and you want to be, just ask. 

 

This theme was worked into the book I co-wrote with Doug Jackson “Dog in the Gap”…

You may want to read it. It could change everything.

Traveling Light with Crazy Love

Francis Chan

We don’t just have upon us a crisis of faith, but also a crisis of faithfulness.

We’ve been reviewing Francis Chan’s book Crazy Love. I encourage everyone to read it. It’ll do you good. Also, it makes an interesting and thought-provoking small group study, or Sunday School class.

"Crazy Love" by Francis Chan

This last lesson was on Risk and Faith. Chan asked everyone to do something in their regular life that requires faith. He asked that we abandon the typical planning we do to minimize our risk. We should do something others could think of as silly, and allow ourselves to live and act in a more vulnerable way. We shouldn’t rely in our stuff to satisfy us. We should live bigger lives.

Along the same lines, Rolf Potts leads this sort of recommended simpler type of lifestyle. He calls it vagabonding. (I found out about Rolf through the Tim Ferriss site. Thank you, Tim.)For Potts, a travel writer, his style is not just a method of travel, but a way of life. It’s unlike the American way of life, because it does not trust in stuff.

I’ve wondered if it’s the case that in America we seem to act like “in god we trust” refers to the money itself, or the things we can buy with it.

We do a lot to feel safe. We buy insurance to minimize various kind of threats. We buy things we feel sure will help us, or at least soothe us. What is the lasting consequence of this approach? A false sense of control? Feathering our pillow of self-sufficiency? Other things…

Rolf Potts takes the theme of traveling light to a whole new level, as he now begins his No Baggage Challenge: Traveling to 12 countries in 6 weeks—With NO baggage (not even a man purse/satchel). [His blog details his travels, and his packing techniques are also quite useful.]

The journey of faith is the same way. When we seek out the comfortable, and we travel heavy, by preparing (mentally or physically) for every potential event, challenge, or threat–something important gets left behind. Perspective for one thing. But what else?

In the life of faith, “taking nothing for the journey” means that one must trust in God’s provision (and his way of providing), trust others, and build relationships. It’s not about what we’ve packed (prepared) for, it’s about the trip itself. It’s about being brave, and opening up to others, and the experience of not being weighted down (both literally and figuratively) by our presuppositions: What we think the trip should look like, and feel like.

You don’t like bumps, you say? Sorry, it’s bumpy. You just might have been insulating yourself. For some perspective… Think: padded cell.

The spiritual journey (journey of faith) is undertaken so optimal preparedness is removed as an option: It’s a method of living, not to be comfortable, but to survive, live, and eventually thrive, where you are, as you are. You come as you are. When the going gets tough–and it will–you stay. [The only thing you “plan on” is love and loyalty.] You work it out. You don’t let yourself have but that choice. You live has though you don’t have a chance/option to flee–like we are too often ready to do. We trust others, and God with abandon, despite the risks, or pain that may/will come.

Why? Because it is the surest way to growth, more rewarding experiences, and a sense of being in a Story bigger than yourself and your self interests. In spending ourselves, we gain our lives.

When we take a risk to help or love (without examining the our potential losses, and assessing all the personal risks) we live by and in faith, not by sight.

[Now, realize, I’m not talking about a life of folly, or veritable reckless behavior. I’m talking about being okay with discomfort, and sacrificing the known and manageable, for something greater at stake.]

What could that look like for you?
Please-Leave your ideas.

Maybe giving away the extra car to someone who needs it? Opening up your home for someone else to live in? Inviting a family to your home for supper once a week? Using a paycheck to buy someone groceries?

What kind of faith will you live by?

In this sense, a little pain goes a long way. Soon, our sights move away from ourselves in pursing selfless faithfulness.

AND-How light can you travel? (on vacation, etc.)

Comments, thoughts, and questions welcome.