October 13,

Work is difficult right now. I am doing a job that I am clearly not qualified to do and I am doing it...well, about as well as you would expect. I'm not great at it. In fact, some days it seems as if I haven't got a clue what to do and everyone else knows better than I do what my job is.

Yesterday was particularly hard. I'm not good at being bad at something. I am particularly not good at disappointing the people I work for. I take it as a personal point of importance that I erase problems for the people I'm working for. Ironically, that's part of the reason I'm not good at my current job.

But who the hell am I working for? I'm certainly not working for the clamoring throngs who look to me to fix their problems for them on a daily basis. And I'm not working for the people who see, in me, an opportunity to get out of doing their own work. And I'm not working for the people who figure it's easier to have me tell them what to do over the phone than it is for them to look in the help file.

I work for Him.

And as I write this, I am listing to something called Key Life, in which today's message is to do what God told you to do and don't do what He didn't tell you to do. You can't do everything. And neither can I. It is, in fact, somewhat arrogant to assume that you can. And self-absorbed to concentrate on the inevitable failure. (That last part is mine, not theirs.)

So even if the people I work for are unhappy with the things I am doing on my job, it is not them that I work for. It is Him. Now, this is a risky proposition. Paul very clearly indicates that we are to follow what our leadership tells us to do. So it is not our place to regularly tell our leaders to go pound sand. There is a reason they are where they are, and sometimes it is because they are competent and you can learn from them.

So what has God told me to do? That is where things need to start. And it starts with the Bible and your leadership and discernment and the confidence that comes from knowing that you are in Him.

October 11, 41

I have 41 years of time to account for today. I hope I don't die today because I can't account for them. I want to be able to account for my time better when I die than I can now.

My time, like yours, is limited. It is expensive and finite. And if you screw it up here, you don't get a do-over.

I don't feel guilty about it. But I feel sad. And excited about what might be coming up. I want it to be good. I have the toold and the knowledge to make it good. But I still need to make the effort.

In doing so, I can't make it about my past failings...and they are legion. I have to make it about the good that I can do. And that's hard work. Right now, I need to push aside the fatigue that I feel and do the work the Lord gave me to do today, rather than concentrating on the break I will get when I really need it. And it will be hard.

But I am up for the hard work. The day will come when my work is done, and then I can rest. In the meantime, today is all that I or you or anyone else has.

A guy named Ken Caminiti died over the weekend. He was the National League's Most Valuable Player just six years ago. He was a popular player, but he took steroids and had some legal problems and those, unfortunately, will be his legacy among those who don't know him. He, like me, was 41.

I'm just starting to understand the truth. I don't want to leave now. I want to put that truth to work.

October 10, Right Now (It's that Magic Moment)

In my Saturday morning men's group, we are doing a book about the 12 apostles and discussing how, though they were common men, their calling was uncommon. I bought into the concept of the book until one of the other guys said that he didn't think their calling was all that uncommon...that we are all called by God to serve Him. In a sense, we are called to the same thing.

I blanche at that. I know my insufficiencies intimately. They are the harlot lover that I know is bad for me, but I still can't manage to keep away from. As much as I know I should avoid her, as much as I know she will reduce me, I just can't stay away. I steel my resolve against her and she opens her arms to me and my resolve melts and I give in. Again.

Sometimes I am tired and I figure I deserve a little break. Maybe I don't have to try so hard. Sometimes I don't think at all. I just give in, and then here we are, back in the old insecurities again. Back wallowing in the knowledge of my shortcomings.

And sometimes she speaks to me seductive lies. It's okay for you. It's hard and you have every right to be ordinary or less. Stop being so hard on yourself. Stop expecting so much. Just do what you want, even if it is nothing. Or less.

It's a cliche that you get out of life what you put into it. But it's a cliche for a reason. We get one shot at this. One time to play the game. There's no do-over if we screw it up. It's there and it's gone, a full lifetime spun away when just moments before it seemed infinite in its expanse.

Life is hard. It necessarily involves pain and mistakes and things that are absolutely wrong that we do anyway because that's how we are sometimes. When she whispers to me, she tells me that I can be less because of these things. The pain and mistakes and baggage make it okay for me to kick back.

Tomorrow, I won't be 40 any more. About half my lifetime, maybe more, is gone. It seems like just yesterday, it was 1978 or 1985 or 1994. The time ahead of me isn't infinite any more. It is time to get things done. If I want to be something uncommon, I need to start today. I need to push aside the attraction to being less than I could be.

In the second half of my life, I need to understand that it isn't about me. It is about my son, who is seven today. It is about my daughter, who is starting the uneven road through adolescence. It is about my wife, who is still with me despite my disappointing her more times than I can count. It's about people I know who could see in me something to make a difference, but don't because I have chosen not to display it. It's about people I don't know yet, or never will know, whose lives I could touch if I only chose to do so.

It's not about wallowing in my weaknesses and expecting perfecting and beating myself when I fall short. That is the harlot talking. It's about understanding that I am not perfect, but not expecting perfection. It's about making myself more than the sum of my failures and releasing myself from them so I might be able to be more.

It's taken 40 years of hard work for me to understand. I've tried and failed and not tried and tried a little and failed and been afraid and I am finally starting to understand. I have an obligation to live according to my understanding. Just as you have an obligation to live according to yours. And to take chances and to not be common.

It is bigger than me. And when it is gone, I will have to take my regrets with me. I prefer to travel light.

The only question is whether there is enough courage and faith to do so.

October 9. On Baseball and the Saux

The headless horseman galloped about on a mild autumn night, chasing Ichabod Crane like so many ghosts of his past, until what had once looked like sweet salvation became the end of everything.

Such is the life of a Boston Red Sox fan. Through the ages, the names echo with devastating clarity...Denny Galehouse, Johnny Pesky, Bucky Dent, Bill Buckner, Aaron Boone. And last night, Saux fans were preparing to add a name to that list after the hometown team blew a five-run lead in the game that would have clinched the Saux a spot in the AL Championship series.

I've read stories of how, after two Mets reached base in the fleeting moments of October 25, 1986, Saux fans knew it was over. How they knew what Bucky Dent would do. So they can be forgiven if they were ready to add Chone Figgins or someone of like stature to the list.

But a strange thing happened...the curse was at least postponed. And the name of David Ortiz joined Dave Henderson and Carlton Fisk on a much sorter list of storied heroism. And the Saux will move on to face either the Yankees or Twins in the ALCS.

Something is different this year. The curse may be waiting or it may have departed New England only to settle someplace else. Chicago, maybe.

October 5, The Danger of this Message

One of the points I have made recently is that you can only achieve freedom in the absence of ego. It gave me pause to see the same concept here. I haven't done a ton of research into this establishment, but it doesn't look healthy. Its invitation to eliminate "SELF" is similar to what I have written, but not the same.

I still believe what I wrote, but I also believe it needs to be clarified, or it becomes an invitation for flogging yourself.

In my opinion, the ego must be diminished to make room for the freedom of God. God gives us freedom when we obey Him. But God also gave us a set of tools to help figure out what that means. We aren't to be told God's will and to follow it blindly. We were given tools to determine the will of God and we are to use those tools to find discernment.

One of the key concepts of the Catholic belief is the importance of conscience. Your conscience if formed by looking at the facts and applying your moral beliefs to those facts. It should feed your decision-making process.

Your community should also feed it. The Bible clearly indicates that we are to seek wise counsel. And the Word of God is pretty clear about a lot of things.

So while we are looking at obedience and the making less of self, we need to look at it in the context of conscience and wise advice and the Bible and prayer. Anything else is an invitation to domination.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made. We screw up, but we are here to help each other and guide each other to the finish line. Anything that doesn't feed that is clearly wrong.

October 4, Sometimes you just get tired

Maybe it is the lack of vacation. I've had a day here or there, but nothing in a row since Christmas. Anyway, I am tired. I need some days off.

Fact of the matter is, I am incredibly blessed to live in a time when days off are a possibility. For most of human life, days off have been rare, even unheard of. In fact, paid vacation is a luxury we in the westernized world take for granted. Then again, we aren't out trying to build a hut for shelter or hunting for or growing the food that will feed our children.

So right away, the key thing to do is to thank God for the gift that He has bestowed that allows me to have a day off where I don't have to work on things. Right away, that simple change of perspective sort of cuts down on the tired.

Still, I need some recharging. And I will get it. I'm supposed to take time off this week. But that could still fall through. Even so, I have some time off later in the month and Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming.

The point is, nothing is forever. And when the pile of garbage starts to get bigger than your ability to grapple with it, eventually, rebirth will come. You just have to be on the lookout for it and believe it is possible.

As soon as you don't believe, it won't happen.

October 3, The Prisons We Build Ourselves

If you believe, and if you ask for God's forgiveness, you will receive it. Period. After that, you are free. After that, the bottom line is that sin no longer holds you captive. You might fall from freedom from time to time; in fact, you almost definitely will fall. But your freedom is your heritage at that point if you claim it.

The prisons from that point forward are of our own making. We build them and we live in them, straining against the bars that keep us captive, all the while not realizing that the door is unlocked and we can leave.

I don't want my prisons any more. I want to walk out of them free so that I can do the things I know that I have the ability to do.

I don't want the prison of "I'm not good enough." I am through with the prison of "I am a bad person." And I will never live again in "Because of my sin, I am worthless to God."

A couple of years ago, God grabbed my hand in the darkness of my darkest moments. And He walked with me. Through all my crying and fighting and wailing, He walked with me, guiding me out of the dungeons I built. Easing me forward, sometimes so slowly that it seemed like I wasn't moving and that I would never move.

But over time, the changes became evident. The air became sweeter and the darkness eased. And the weight on my heart and soul melted. And I have come to realize that I am no longer there any more.

I am outside and it is pleasantly warm. The sun is cascading down upon me, caressing me with its warmth. There is a slight breeze and the colors are vivid, almost to the point of overwhelming me. The sky is so deep in its blueness, that it seems as if it should be dark. But it's not. The grass tickles slightly as I walk though the meadow.

The prisons are almost out of view now. And I can bask in the light and love of the Father who led me here and who will keep me from going back.

October 3, Of Humble Origins

My men's group is starting a study of the Apostles this week. It's a 13-week program, I believe, but we will probably be able to cover it in six months. We tend to really dig deep on things sometimes.

The major point of the study is that the Apostles were twelve ordinary people. None of them were scholars or visionaries or rich men or leaders of important movements. They were fishermen, a tax collector, various others whose life consisted of working hard and trying, for the most part, to do the right thing and obtain economic security to some degree.

And yet, nearly 2000 years after their deaths, we know their names. Most of us don't know the names of the people who were important in roles around them. The head of the local temple, the merchants who bought their fish, the people they had to tread lightly around or life would be difficult.

Yet, we know about these twelve. In worldly terms, they were nothing special. They were more or less like the people around them. Yet they were called and answered the call.

In a similar way, we have the ability to answer the call and be something special, too. It's just a matter of understanding who you are and, if you are inclined to think this way, whose you are. These guys weren't super heroes. And they weren't Godly and perfect, either. They screwed it up as often as not. And yet they made a difference.

Their humble origins, the fact that they often failed, and the fact that in the end, they made a difference anyway is significant. It means that for all our faults, for all the things that we believe make us unable to make a significant difference, we can. We just have to have the faith in our actions and the courage to take a chance. And if we do that, maybe it will make a difference.

October 2, On Haiti

Imagine having a storm come through your town. Imagine that it is so bad that you can't count the dead. Imagine that there are so many dead people that they load them into dump trucks and dump them in a hole and cover them over.

That's what's going on in Haiti right now.

Imagine that your adult child lives on the other side of town and you can't locate him or her and you spend weeks looking. And you figure more and more that the person whose fragile body you once cradled in your arms was tossed in a hole with a mess of other people. But you will never know.

This isn't taking place across the world. It's a few hundred miles off the coast of Florida, in a place where cruise ships pass by and stop.

Imagine that there is so much wrong that no matter what you do, it will not cause any major changes for the better. Imagine looking out on people and knowing that the food you have to give them will feed only a fraction.

Imagine standing in the mob that is waiting for food and knowing that you timed it wrong and got there late and that your kids are going to be hungry for the next several days as a result.

We live in a wonderful land. I can walk to any of three supermarkets and get food without waiting in line. And I can get food that I really like there, and just pass it up if I don't like it. I have never had to send my children to bed hungry because there was no food. I have never had to listen to them cry themselves to sleep because they don't know when they are going to eat again.

It seems to me that when we look at the problems of the world, this particular one should be more important than it is. But how do you fix it? What can you do about it? With a corrupt government, you can pour all the money in the world into the problem and it won't make a difference. Freedom--political freedom--is vital for people to prosper.

But we aren't talking about prospering. We're talking about mass starvation and pits in which piles of what used to be people are placed. I can't imagine the level of heartache there.

October 1, Freedom is Hard

I'm not much of a jumper. Never have been. I could jump respectably when we played volleyball on a gym floor in college, but never off sand. My flippant assessment of that was that the sand monster reached up and grabbed my legs. The truth was, even in college, I was a little overweight and could have been in better shape.

The same is true of freedom. There are things that reach up and grab me as I try to exercise my freedom. The things I've screwed up, my insecurities, that voice within me that takes small things that I have done and turns them huge. And they do their damnedest to make me nothing more than a sum of my shortcomings.

One of the hard things about freedom is being freed from these things while still taking responsibility for your actions. We have all fallen short. We have all screwed up. We all have more than enough things that make us cringe inside when we call them to mind.

Those things are real and they can never be undone. Even when we fix them, they still happened. And in some cases, they caused great harm. And that can sometimes be fixed, but it, too, can never be undone. And sometimes it will come back and bite us over and over again, exploiting that insecurity.

I believe that we have a foe and that foe knows and will exploit our weaknesses. He will heap guilt upon us for things for which we are forgiven. He will do the same for things that need no forgiveness. And he is skilled at disception and manipulation.

For me, the hardest part of freedom is standing firm in the face of that foe. He cannot take away your freedom, but he can convince you that it is not yours to have.