One word away from a total nervous breakdown

I saw my grandfather for Christmas and he asked what I was doing. He wanted to know where I worked and I tried with a sentence or two to prove that I was somebody he should be proud of. He nodded his head for a while, moderately impressed, and then said, “What about on the education front? Are you going to go to business school? It’s great on the resume.” I responded, “Oh yeah, F*** you, old man!” in my heart; and then said out loud, “Oh yeah, that’s true.  I will look into that. I’m going to get some more eggnog, you?”

What is the problem with my life, grandpa? What am I doing that isn’t good enough? What more do you want from me? Will it ever be enough? Why business school? And who cares about my resume?

I believe that “God’s grace is sufficient for me;” that my “faith is credited to me as righteousness;” but I am one word, one word of law, away from a total nervous breakdown. I know this because all the little words, mere words implying imperfection send me spiraling.

-          My grandfather tells me that he’s disappointed in me.

-          My boss tells me that I need that I need to work on my proofreading.

-          My wife starts crying and I can’t stop it.

-          A stock turns the wrong way.

-          I get lost driving and stuck in horrible traffic.

-          My mother tells me to “be nice.”

-          My fitness level is worse than the year before.  

This is a confession that I am one word away from a total nervous breakdown. My belief in God’s grace is so fragile that almost any word of the law can plunge me into the abyss and send me running to my bed like a child in shame. I wish that I was stronger, but the law is always standing at the door ready to convict me. It is always there ready to tell me that I am not good enough; that nothing I do will ever be good enough; and I am always ready to believe it.

What do I want? I want to not be so easily crushed. I want to hear the law spoken by my grandfather, or mother, or boss and have it fall right off my back. Good luck!

I think that this comes from knowing yourself and knowing that the accusation is true and probably is worse than anybody, even my grandfather, knows: I have not “lived up to my potential”; I could have done things better. What was that story that FitzAllison retold? About a captured allied soldier being questioned and the interrogators asking questions to try and find a point of guilt in the soldier? There was something about the soldier, a Christian, having confessed all the things that were brought against him already- that there was nothing that they could pin on him, to which he hadn’t already confessed a much worse offense. I want to be like that. I want to hear what someone else says and not spiral on down, but know that it is much worse than they know and yet I am forgiven. I want to truly confess my weaknesses- that I beautifully and wonderfully made, but there is “no health in me”. Despite my weaknesses, I know that the work of Jesus on the cross has silenced the demands of the law. “Where, oh death, is your victory? Where oh death, is your sting?” There is nothing that the world can bring against me that the work of Jesus hasn’t already satisfied.  Jesus has silenced the demands of the law. The law, the power of death, no longer have a grip on me. “For the law brings wrath, but where there is no law there is no transgression.” Praise be to God, through Jesus Christ.  

forgetting

most mornings i wake up with a determined sense that "i've got to get stuff done today." as though somehow my agenda can reshape all the ways in which the things i did wrong yesterday can be made right today... but it seems like the harder i try, the worse it gets.

the more i think about it, the worse i think most religions are at having something to say to the loser. i mean what happens when you lose? what happens when your best isn't good enough? when your cancer isn't going to recede? when your father just won't love you? when your wife knows you're a failure as a husband?

most everyone in the world you'd go to for advice under any of those circumstances offers a cursory set of solutions:

"just keep trying"
"just hold on, it will get better"
"it's not that bad"
"let's come up with a plan of action"

but what if you're really at the end of your rope? i know i've been there. when you're at the end of your rope, there's nothing a motivational speech is really gonna do. you might reluctantly coax yourself to get out of bed, but in your heart, you know that that the pain of your shame from failure or the pain of life's sometimes horrible realities can become insufferable. if you wait long enough, maybe you'll forget, but that's certainly not a stable reality.

i realize that lately, i've been under attack. i have been taking for granted that since i might understand intellectually some (though certainly NOT all) of the things going on in my heart, that i have them "under control." those are demons that since i've "brought to light," i "don't need to worry about anymore."

but, of course, that simply isn't true... i'm really under attack. i feel pressure to perform at every level in my life -- to be a good husband, to be a good caretaker for my firm, to be a good father, to serve the church, to scribble on this blog... to be good.

but i'm not good. i'm a failure. and i KNOW it and no stupid aphorism about "trying harder" will sedate the pain of my heart from understanding that.

Christianity has something to say me. the message of the gospel begins well before i would have started my measurements for a self-assessment test. Christianity starts with the basic supposition that

1. i've already failed.
2. Trying is evidence of my failure.

see when i forget that i already failed, i try harder... i think i have to do something to "make things better." but no human can do that... i mean PRACTICALLY, of course i can do little things, but the big things in life -- where will i work, will i get sick, will my family be ok... the things that MATTER and give shape to life... all those things are well beyond my control. so i try to ignore them and "focus on the things i can control." but even those things aren't really under my control and so because i spend all my time focusing on the uncontrollables that i THINK i can control, i wind up half crazy and totally discouraged.

God's standard across everything is perfection. It is that simple. It is not a half-measure. it is not just being "better than the other 99%" It is perfect.

I keep forgetting that. i keep thinking that i haven't really failed. that each day is a new slate and that trying harder will fix something. but the ARROGANCE of that presumption is all the evidence God needs to condemn me... who am i to challenge God? who am I to challenge his standards? they are absolute, not relative. i have no hope to meet any of them. what a pathetic little pion i am to even try to do it on my own.

Christianity actually STARTS with the message that our failure is real and concrete. life's agonies are undeniable and shouldn't be surprising in a broken world with broken people... life is hard.

i think richard rohr puts it best actualy:

"Understanding that your life is not about you is the connection point with everything else. it lowers the mountains and fills the valley that we have created... I am grateful to be a part -- and only a part! i do not have to figure it all out, straight it all out, or even do it perfectly by myself. i do not have to be God. It is an enormous weight off your back."

so i confess. i forgot this morning. i forgot that i'd already failed, before i even began... that i fall short of God's standard... that i'm in desperate need of His grace. that when i woke up today, it wasn't my "goal" to love God, but to "use" him to serve my own ideas about what will make "me better" or the "world better" or whatever idiot scheme i had in mind. i let the world's demands and demons... the world's ridiculous and ephemeral and changing standards be my benchmark and not God's. I am sorry.

please pray for this peccator. God, I ask you to help me engage in community, to seek out and confess all that nags at my heart, to give my life into Your hands. I ask you help me to do nothing but through your strength. Help my life be a simple testimony to two certain facts 1) my inadequacy and 2) your unending grace. What can I really be hoping for if not greater commune with you? How miserable and insufficient any other desire would be...

CPP

my christmas miracle(s)

I was reading the passage in exodus where Moses, with the Lord’s power, begins performing a series of miracles in an effort to convince the Pharaoh to release the Hebrews from bondage… I noticed something that, as usual, I missed the first time I approached this text. For the first several miracles, even though they are clearly achieved by God enabling Moses (and Aaron), the “sorcerers and magicians” of the Pharaoh are able to replicate the same results.

For instance:

“So Aaron stretched out his hand over the waters of Egypt, and the frogs came up and covered the land. But the magicians did the same things by their secret arts; they also made frogs come up on the land of Egypt.”

The somewhat predictable result is that wonder of God’s first few miracles are lost on the Pharaoh and “he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses.” It isn’t until God produces a series of increasingly complex miracles that the magi can’t replicate that anyone dares to point the Pharaoh to the inevitable conclusion that “’This is the finger of God.’” Of course, even this interpretation is wrong, because it was the finger of God the WHOLE time, not just in that singular instance… After a series of refusals, the Pharaoh eventually cedes to the sovereign demands of God to release the Hebrews (though we all know he quickly changes his mind on this).

What struck me as I read this was how often am I just like the Pharaoh and the Magi? How often am I witnessing the daily miracle of God and assuming that it’s from my own power or human power?
Sadly, I know the answer. It’s all the time.

It is only in moments of extreme stress or circumstance that God’s miracles become apparent to me. Of course, He is REALLY with me all the time; daily performing miracles... In fact, given how corrupt my heart is, it’s a miracle that I don’t get into even worse trouble than I do. God is constantly saving me from situations where he knows I would fall short… and yet I consistently pat myself on the back for my “self-discipline” when I should instead be praising the “finger of God.”

Lord, I pray that you would help me to be more aware, more present in being a witness to ALL of your miracles. I know I want to take them for granted, assume that all is being done under my own power, but help me recognize that your benevolent hand is with me each day and in each moment. Help me to be mindful and grateful – aware of your awesome life-giving power and wonderful love for your creation, despite its persistently malfunctioning heart. Praise God.

CPP

I need a friend of sinners

The hardest part about confession is admitting that I am not who I thought I was. Sometimes the incident that puts me over the edge is too brutal to even confess; to painful to admit the event that hit me in the face like fist, or showed who I was like a mirror. I don’t know how the alcoholic gets up at a meeting and does true confession. I don’t know how they get up and say, “That’s right. I stole money from my kid’s piggy bank to buy booze” or whatever it is- at a moment when it seemed like it couldn’t get any worse it did. And maybe that’s why people don’t go to AA. Maybe that’s why people quit cold turkey, to avoid the pain of confession, of admitting how low you have been and have potential to go, on any given day, for your whole life.

Well, I don’t want to be a dry drunk. I don’t want to go on with my life and pretend like I’m not stepping over dead bodies to get to the kitchen every morning. I want to be human. I want to admit that I am not who I say I am. I am a hypocrite. I want to admit that I’m not better than anyone else. I am just as bad. I want to admit that I don’t do the things that I should do and every time that I say in my head that I will never do that again I do it the next night or the next week and I do it worse than before. My will power is weak. Most of all, I am sorry for the ways that I cover it up and hide it. I am also sorry for the ways that I look down on others who are “weaker” than I am, people who merely can’t cover it up or control it at the right time the same way that I can. I am sorry that I look down on those people as if I can’t relate.

I need help to admit my weakness and not hide it. I have heard that “God’s strength is made perfect in my weakness.” I have heard that God is a friend of sinners. I have heard that he is strong when I am weak; that the poor are rich in him; that he loves me no matter what. Please help me to be weak and trust in you for all things. I don’t want to rely on my self, on my own ability to perform. Please help me to be weak, to be poor, to stand with the sinners. Please let me know your love and forgiveness for a poor, weak, fragile, lonely, lame, desperate, empty man.    

fix-it girl

I have always been mechanical, well, for a girl. I am (pardon my pride) exceptional at setting up printers, assembling bookshelves, super-gluing, moving large pieces of furniture, unscrewing tight lids, etc. Most people find these attributes surprising given my stature and personality. Nevertheless, I find a sense of self-worth in being able to complete mundane tasks. Pathetic, I know. Unfortunately my "I can fix it" complex compels me to attempt to handle life's problems all on my own. Though un-screwing a tight lid does not require prayer or fasting, I all too often dismiss my need for the Lord's guidance and strength while in the throws of life's tight lids--the really tough, tight lids of losing loved ones, and complicated family dynamics, and facing new opportunities.  Sure, I recognize my need for more prayer and scripture during these times; however, after the prayers have been uttered and the scriptures have been read, I find that my heart continues to ache and my mind continues to churn, pumping out possible scenarios and alternatives for facing the challenges ahead. Why can't I simply "be still and know that He is God?" Why must I routinely cast myself in the role of head mechanic? Can't I lean on His "ever present help in times of trouble" and find rest in His "good, pleasing, and perfect will?" Today, I pray that this peccator could cast away her pride and ambition, and focus on His almighty power, His perfect peace, and His infinite wisdom, so that I may rest in His assurance that He indeed has plans to give me "hope and a future."
>
> RSP

fat and happy

candidly, in the last few weeks, i have noticed a worrying trend...  self-satisfaction.  it's not always obvious, but can perniciously show up in many different ways.  often, i will give verbal acknowledgement to my need for God and for His grace, but, in my heart, i feel:  


"i'm not really that bad.  i think i've got this thing figured out.  things are under control..."


this pattern of behavior for me is sadly too common.  i will go through a cycle of genuine stress during which my need for the Lord is transparent...  in those moments, i feel acutely aware of my need for His love and the connection to His grace -- i am temporarily brought to peace by being driven to my knees and reminded of His presence and promise.  


soon enough; however, i have forgotten the heartfelt transformation that comes through my confession and gratitude for His sacrifice and i am back to "doing it myself."  why is it so hard for me to stay mentally present with the Lord?  i am constantly "compartmentalizing" my faith and looking instead to create a false moment in life where i am "fat and happy" -- where everything is going well and there is no stress.  what a falsely stable sense of security...  how much better for me would it be to live instead in constant stress and transparent need...  continuously receiving the gift of Grace with little claim available to my own righteousness?  


someone once said to me, "you know, CPP, the only thing people have in life to give them any real security is some money."  in one sense for many, i suppose he was right, but in another, much more meaningful sense, he was completely wrong... how quickly, at least in my case, a "little bit of money" becomes another obligation that _I_ have to manage.   _I_ have to protect.  _I_ have to grow.  it becomes an idol for me so fast that i'm worried about losing it well before there is any credible reason to fear its loss.  i'm in total bondage to it.  fat and happy, indeed...  more like fat and delusional.  


as C.S. Lewis observed, "Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak.  We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.  We are far too easily pleased."


and why do i do this?  why do i insist on coming apart from God and chasing after butterflies?  because my heart is selfish and broken.  i want everything -- i want comfort without pain, i want security without sacrifice, i want righteousness to exist where only sin lives...  so i confess my heart's greed to live apart from the Lord.  i confess that, try as i might, i can't seem to live in the tension that my faith demands; to allow the Holy Spirit to do good works through me, but without me claiming credit.  please pray for me.  please help me remember that the only real satisfaction in life is found in my relationship with Jesus -- who mediates my relationships with all people and things in this broken world and promises the perfection i am really after with Him in His kingdom.


CPP
    

The Ends Justify the Means

I have my heart set on being king- to have the most money, to have the highest title, and if I had it all… to be the fastest bike rider in the world. And in order to get there I will do anything to anyone and hardly blink an eye. This was made especially clear to me when I decided to quit marathoning and start bike racing. I bought a bike and immediately started putting on heavy mileage. I would go out for 4-5 hours on Saturday and Sunday. Everyday I would wake up early and wake up my increasingly frustrated wife on the way out. My wife would want to have breakfast with me, but I would respond, “Sorry honey, DRP has to get his fitness level up. There are only a few months before the first CAT 5 race of the season. I’ve got to get ready.”

I was humbled by a review a couple months ago of “The Doper Next Door: My Strange and Scandalous Year on Performance Enhancing Drugs.” A year on steroids finishing middle of the pack in CAT 4 (low low amateur) bike races: to what end! To write a book, I guess. But me, I don’t need performance enhancing drugs to help me ruin my life. I can ruin my life all by myself. And I’ll do it in order to finish middle of the pack in an amateur cycling race. In order to be the best, I’ll show up to work late; I’ll postpone time with my wife; I’ll go to the emergency room because of a fall in New Jersey; I’ll swear at European pedestrians who get in my way while I am doing hill repeats. What won't I do?

For me, it doesn’t stop at bike racing either. How else do I do it? My boss has recently been reaching out to me and my wife. He had us over for dinner. He invited his friends over to meet us. And all I kept thinking was “When is the right time to ditch this guy? When is the right time to leave and go somewhere else?” Someone asks about him or his work and I immediately think to criticize rather than praise. “He’s ok,” I say, “A little bit sloppy, but I clean up his messes.” Never do I lead with praise. The first thing that pops into my head is always how to criticize and make myself look better. And, for what? For my own sake, of course! I want to finish slightly better than the middle of the pack in my job. It like my bike race, I will cut off five people, cause a crash (maybe get in a crash) to try and finish 12^th rather than 16^th. What kindof person am I?

I am a person that believes that the ends justify the means. I want to get ahead. To where, I don’t know. But I will do anything to get there.

The Sermon on the Mount says that the ends do not justify the means in heaven. Even worse than just saying “It matters how you do it” like my mother might say, it says, “It is what you are thinking about that matters.” My thoughts betray me. My instinct is never towards heavenly things or other people, but my instinct is like an animal who wants to kill and eat. I want to climb any ladder I can no matter where it goes and no matter who I have to climb over. I want to be king.

Lord, Have mercy on me and despicable sinner. Nothing I do is good. Those things that I don’t want to do and the things that I want to do, I have no power to do them.  Please have mercy on me.