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.