2012: Year of the Honey Badger

Today is the last day of 2011.  Instead of making resolutions that I most certainly won’t keep for the New Year, I am giving myself a mission statement. which will help guide my behavior, my attitudes, and my time.  My mission statement is inspired by one part Tim Tebow, one part Bible, and one part age.

My mission: Be me.

I know what you are thinking. “Be me,” sounds like a platitude that you would see someone post on Pinterist. “Keep Calm and Be Me,” it would say. That probably exists.

I don’t mean in it in a frivolous way. I mean it in the Jeremiah 29 way. God created me a certain way and he has plans for me, and if I don’t live the way that he intended me to live, then I am missing out on a lot of joy and also on who he intended me to be.

God made me to love him and my neighbor. He put inside me a deep desire to love my wife, to be a peacemaker, to love art, to love food, to make music.  Those yearnings and passions are in me for a reason, and to ignore them is a mistake that makes me miserable.  That’s the Bible part.  Now, naturally, comes Tim Tebow.

I can’t even imagine how many words have been written or read about Tim Tebow in 2011. The thing I love about Tebow is that he is who he is and everybody knows it. He is comfortable with his faith and his life.

In my own life, I have often found myself uncomfortable with displaying my actual self to the world. When in public I will often hide my journal, a book I’m reading, or even my Bible. I’m ashamed to admit it, but for a lot of my adult life I have hidden my Bible from my peers. I didn’t want people to think I was weird or judgmental.

Sadly, hiding my Bible is a giant act of judgment. It assumes that anyone who sees it will judge me, think that I am stupid or naive, and will cut off any relationship with me. It sounds like I’m being judgmental. It also sounds dishonest.

The lesson I’m learned from Tebow is that it’s ok to be who you are and to be brave enough to allow others to see who you are. Otherwise, you’re missing out.

The last influence in my mission is just age. The older we get, the less concerned we become about middle school-level politics. (Hopefully.) I’ve also spent enough time worrying about silly things and shielding myself from others’ view that I’ve learned it’s not the best way to live.

So, thanks to the Bible, Tebow, and the school of hard knocks, I’ve decided that 2012 will the year in which I am unashamed to be me. I want to love God and my neighbor. I want to be a good husband, a loyal friend, an excellent professional peacemaker, an artist, an athlete. I want to find peace in God and trust that who he created me to be is good.

God bless you and yours in the new year.

A Christmas Story

I hate the holidays.

That’s how I’ve largely felt for my entire life.  Too many disruptions, too much anxiety, too many expectations. Too many social situations.

When I was six years old, I had an anxiety attack on Christmas morning. I had to go lay down and drink a glass of water.  As a high schooler, it seemed that bad things happened to people around the holidays. Illness, accidents and the like. As a college student, I could not in good conscience feel happy at Christmas with so much injustice in the world.

This year, Christmas has snuck up on me.  The holiday season has barely blipped on my generally full radar screen or neuroses. I’ve been too busy – searching for the perfect gift(s) for loved ones, reconnecting with old friends,  rediscovering old creative interests, trying to offer a hand where I can.

The strangest thing has happened – this year I’ve enjoyed Christmas.

“Fear not, and behold. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people.”

Christ the Savior was born.  The one who would make the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers clean, the deaf hear.  The one that would raise the dead. The one who would sit with the foreigner, the orphan, the widow. The Lamb of God.

If you were here with me right now, you would see a slow smile spread across my face as I think of this Jesus, coming into our dirty world to make us clean and heal us and protect us, to destroy the work of the devil. You might think I was reflecting on a profound theological truth or discerning  some sage insight into our existence.

What you would not expect would be my pure nerdish joy at this Jesus, whom I picture as a cross between the Fonz standing up for Richie Cunningham and Superman flying through the air to meet a meteor headed to Metropolis. I see the meteor’s momentum slow and reverse as Superman saves us from our certain demise. In my heart, these images are joy embodied.

I see this Jesus standing in heaven with the ones that we’ve lost this year, I see him handing a coat and a burger to the mentally ill man who walks by my office every day.  I see him digging a well for clean water in Gulu. I see him praying over a friend’s baby bump.  I see him whispering in the ear of the hopeless, convincing them to keep trying.

He’s my brother and Lord, he’s a lamb and Superman, and we have put up LED lights on and around our houses to celebrate his birthday. And that’s all cool with me.

Merry Christmas to you and yours.