Statics and Dynamics

Posted: Thursday, December 29, 2011 by Morgan in
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Do people change or do they stay the same? Are they static or dynamic?


This is a question that I don't know the answer to, and the answer to this question has a serious impact on how I live my life.

If people do change, there are some consequences. There is hope. There is uncertainty. There is something we can do to change ourselves and our world for the better.

If people don't change, there are some consequences. There is no hope. There is absolute certainty. There is nothing we can do to change ourselves and our world for the better.

I think both are true. People don't change in the sense that their personalities are consistent (that is unless they've undergone some sort of trauma that is so horrific and pervasive that it reaches into the deepest part of a person and fundamentally changes it. Like being forced to finish ALL your math homework before you could eat lunch. That will mess you up.). This is statics. For example, someone who is type A will always think type B's are messy and irresponsible and someone who is type B will always think type A's are OCD. An early bird will never enjoy being anything but unconscious after 10 pm and a night owl will always think that 6 am is a cruel joke. Pessimists will always think optimists are crazy and optimists will always think pessimists are suicidal (Realists, on the other hand, wonder why we can't all be crazy and suicidal). People who like to talk will always think silence is awkward and people who would rather think than talk will always think that silence is underrated. These things are static and people generally act according to their personalities. This modus operandi is fine and dandy as long as you're living up in the mountains training a peregrine falcon and carving yourself a house out of a tree. Because you (and your falcon) are all you have to deal with. This way of living falls apart when you rub shoulders with other people who might have, heaven forbid, a different personality.

This is where people do change in the sense that they can choose to change the way they behave regardless of how they feel. I talk more about this in my post about love (please read it, it will give you an understanding of the basis for what I'm saying and it might even change your life). Type A people can be around type B people and appreciate the creativity, freedom, and fluidity with which they live their lives and type B people can be around type A people and appreciate the order and planning around which they structure their lives. Neither must force their way of life on the other. Night owls can get up early to join the breakfast club (or coffee time) with early birds, and early birds can stay up late to watch (or sleep through) a movie with a flock of night owls. Optimists and pessimists can take the advice of the realist. Talkers can listen and listeners can talk, even though either will be hard for both. This is necessary when we live in community with others. We must crucify our own natural desires and tendencies in order to get along with (and show love to) others. Because we're not up in the mountains whittling a steam engine out of a pine log and hunting grizzly bears with a slingshot. We're late for work and the person in line at Starbucks can't decide whether to get a strawberry mocha with extra whip cream or a dirty chai and is calling mom to help them decide. We're driving in the Fred Meyer parking lot and the lady cuts us off and just waves at us because somehow that makes it okay. We're around people who aren't perfect and we all have to get along. Or else we'll end up like Albania.

So basically people can't change who they are but they can change what they do.

Love

Posted: by Morgan in
2

I came to a game-changing realization last week. Scratch that, God gave me a piece of the puzzle I had been missing for a long time. He helped me realize that my idea of love was all wrong, and that it was really messing me up. There are two parts to this realization.


Part I:

Love for me was a feeling, an emotion that a person had for the thing he loved. I thought that emotion was the indicator of how much you loved someone or something. I have since redefined what love is and learned that there are actually two stages of love. Love is deviating from your own nature and desires and tendencies for the sake of showing your beloved that they are valuable and worthy of honor. The first stage of love is euphoria and the second is commitment.

The first stage of love, euphoria, is one where you have a ridiculous amount of positive emotions towards the person you love. These emotions give you superpowers and a compass that points directly toward your beloved at all times. It makes love (going out of your way to show someone else honor and value) easy. I don't care that the time I get to spend with her is shorter than the time I'll spend driving to get there. I don't care that it's satan o'clock in the morning, let's keep talking. I thought that the most mature form of love was a state where that emotion was always present. The euphoria of love is something that comes on initially at the beginning of a relationship and then ceases to be so pervasive and powerful when reality strikes like a blindfolded kid who swings a golf club at a piñata and hits you in the face instead. The euphoria is not gone forever at this point. It will resurface at times, but it is generally indicative of the beginning of a relationship, not the culmination. There is not an advanced stage of love in which the euphoria returns and stays forever.

The second stage of love, commitment, is the stage of love where you have a chinese fire drill and choice punches emotion in the face and takes the driver's seat. It is a stage where the euphoria is gone, in which you must make the choice every single day to love. And the act of love is one whose foundation is one of selflessness and deviation. This love is not necessarily motivated by the euphiroa that wipes away all faults and inhibitions and enables you (for a time) to be absolutely selfless, disregarding personal desires and convenience for the sake of your beloved. This love does not have the euphoria to sustain it and is therefore more difficult and more real and more valuable and more rewarding than euphoric love. It takes guts, true sacrifice, self-control, and selflessness. It shows both the lover and the beloved the depth of the love between them and shows just what kind of person the lover actually is when they're running on regular choice rather than high-octane euphoria.

Now all of this is not to say that euphoria is bad or wrong in any way. I'm simply saying it isn't to be relied upon in the long run. It should certainly be harnessed when it shows itself, which it will from time to time in any loving relationship, and things will more than likely be grand when it does, but it should not be the focus or goal of the relationship. Relying on euphoria to run an entire relationship is like relying on a Zenvo ST1 to take you snowboarding on Mt. Hood. It will be an absolute blast in the foothills and you'll ask yourself why the world even manufactures other cars until you hit real-life things like potholes and gravel and elevation and snow. It's fantastically reliable Italian engineering will cause it to break down, the $20,000 carbon-ceramic brakes will need to be replaced, you won't be able to see behind you, your passenger will be forced to hold the snowboards out the window and carry the gear in their lap, you'll crash, and everybody will hate you. At the same time, when the Zenvo appears in your driveway one day, you'd be an absolute idiot not to drive it. Because it looks like this. And has 1100 horsepower. And it's being driven in Dubai, which is the opposite of Mt. Hood.


Our culture is absolutely saturated with emotion and euphoria. It's all we want, and it comes with newness:a new car, new clothes, new job, new haircut, new girlfriend, new wife, new vacation, new music, new politicians, new, new NEW NEW NEW!

The euphoria we so desire does not last, and people think like I did that if the euphoria is not there, whatever produced it in the first place must not be worthwhile or right or valuable anymore. They think that the feelings are the goal, a sign and indicator the true love or contentment have been reached. This is not true, and if we cannot see that this is as much a falsehood as the everything Richard Nixon (or Tricky Dick, as some people call him) ever said on TV, the divorce rate will continue to hover around 50%, people will still live far above their means, there will still be broken relationships, absent fathers and single mothers, and a waste and neglect and disregard for that which is not shining and new.

Part II:

I have been placing my hope in euphoria with my relationship with God. I have been desiring that feeling, that passion, that euphoria in my relationship with Him, thinking that it would be the representative indicator that my relationship with Him is deep and full and real. I was sorely mistaken. The first stage of love for God occurred for me when I was very young. Four years old. It really did not last long. No matter how I feel about that, about hte justice or equity of that fact, it happened and I've struggled with it unconsciously, unknowingly, for years. I have been living and searching for the euphoric love for God and have been angry and disappointed when He doesn't provide it like I thought He promised. The relationship He promises to those who believe Him is much different and much deeper and richer than just a feeling. Loving God is not like a drug you take when you're feeling spiritually dry. Loving God is not "being in love with Jesus" in the sense that I and mosof my peers understand it. It is not serving the homeless in Portland or going to Swaziland or Cambodia out of a blazing passion and emotional draw to share Jesus (and the euphoric love that He will give you) with the world.

No. Loving God is living day to day, following after Christ, our beloved, and seeking to be more like him. That may find expression in ministering overseas, but it does not have its basis and foundation in a euphoria, in a romantic love for Christ. It can and should (in the long run) have its basis and foundation in a commitment and willingness to sacrifice even when we don't feel like it. A ministry built on that will be far more meaningful than any emotional decision to follow God's calling.

God showed me that I have had the second sort of love for Him for a long time. I have had the steady, deep, serious commitment to deviate from my own desires to honor Him. I have had the most desirable kind of love that one could wish for and said, "Is this all that there will ever be?" I have been foolish and ridiculous and immature, wishing for the very beginning of love rather than basking and glorying in the deep, committed love He has allowed me to have for Him. I have despised His love for me and asked for that which will not be sustaining. I have despised the gifts of financial and familial and academic wonders which he has bestowed upon me and asked instead for emotion. Ah emotion, you fickle, hateful, beautiful feeling. How sweet yet how fleeting you are.

When I sat and wrote about this subject for hours last week, I felt as if I had unlocked the secret to life, love, happiness, and relationship. And God has been teaching it to me for years. He's allowed me to live in the second stage of love with Him without me realizing it. And he has blessed me immeasurably through it all with countless and wonderful blessings. The creator of the universe did all of that in my life.

Wow.

"Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky."
-The Love of God, by Frederick M. Lehman

Notes on Honesty

Posted: Sunday, December 25, 2011 by Morgan in
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Honesty is simply the absence of deceit.

If that's all you need, don't read the rest because it will probably seem very rigid and I'm almost positive it will be so boring that you will cry.

This definition of honesty was stumbled upon as I shared stories with a close friend who has recently returned home from college. We were talking about the importance of being honest and the importance of knowing what and how much to say. What we initially discovered was that honesty is best defined negatively as opposed to positively. This thought remained in my head for about a week, and then I thought about it for almost an entire shift at work earlier this week and scribbled down what I could during my breaks. It's very academic and ridiculous, but it was a good exercise.

Honesty is complicated. If we try to define it with the things we should say we will run into problems because it's not always good to just say everything that is true to everyone. It's not helpful to be a firehose of honesty. It's difficult to determine what level of honest disclosure of information is appropriate and it's much simpler and easier to determine whether or not deceit is present based on what we omit from the truth or what we add to it. We know when we're bending the truth by adding extra things that didn't really happen to our story or completely changing it to cover up something we are ashamed of or even when we say most of what is true and simply leave out parts that could tarnish our reputation or the reputation of others. That part of honesty is fairly easy.


The difficulty lies in how much information we should disclose to others when being honest. A definition that is nice in theory but unhelpful in practice is this: we should disclose just enough information in order to not be deceptive. How do we know what that amount is? Maybe the best judge is the conscience. Everyone has one, so it's not something you have to train or grow or develop. On the other hand our response to the nudgings of our conscience is something we have to train. We have to respond the right way to what our conscience tells us. (I could get into the origin of the conscience and the deeper philosophical and theological basis of what it actually is, but that would be possibly more dull and boring that this already is. This must be what it's like to write textbooks.) It may be as simple as something like social competence. Some people have it and some people don't. Some people know the right things to say and do around others and some people just don't. It may be the same way with knowing when and how much to tell people as we are being honest.

In the pursuit of honesty, it seems there are two main variables that determine how much disclosure is appropriate: the category of person with whom we are being honest and how much the target of honesty knows us. The categories of people are as follows: the self, the individual, and the community. We should tell ourselves everything without exception. We are doing ourselves absolutely no favors by keeping information from ourselves. When it comes to another individual, it gets a bit more complex. I think the amount disclosed to the other person should contain everything pertinent or critical to your relationship to them, and that anything beyond that should be carefully weighed against how much the extra information may help or hurt them. When we have to be honest to a large group or community, disclosure should be limited to the information that affects our relationship with the entire community. If individuals within the community find deceit in your honesty, it becomes an individual matter and extra information should be given if and only if it is any of their business. If they are simply looking for juicy information, you aren't helping anybody by giving it to them in the name of honesty. We can do just as much damage by telling people too much as we can by lying through omission.

Be

Posted: Wednesday, December 21, 2011 by Morgan in
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I can finally be myself. I came to a realization yesterday that who I am and who I have been trying to become has not been genuine. I have had selfish ulterior motives. I have been consumed with pride about who and what I am becoming and I think I am able to let that go now.

I'm free.

Some of the lyrics to Shake It Out by Manchester Orchestra do an excellent job of illustrating my realization:

I felt the Lord begin
...to peel off all my skin.

I felt the weight within
...reveal the bigger mess
......that you can't fix.

Change

Posted: by Morgan in
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My desires are changing. I find myself wanting things that I have never wanted. My idea of entertainment has changed. I no longer want to do things like watch movies or tv shows or play video games. I would rather be outside or working with my hands or playing guitar or learning something new. I am attracted to things in other people that I never would have thought I would be attracted to. Instead of surrounding myself with people who run through life met with success after success and have all the answers, I enjoy being around people who, like me, wrestle with life and who do not have all the answers and who are not perfect. I don't look for the best in people anymore, I look for the reality in them. "There's beauty in the funk." I can't really describe this one as explicitly as I can the rest, but I can sense a change.

Manchester Orchestra: Virgin

Posted: Monday, December 19, 2011 by Morgan in
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We've made our bed and now we must lie in it.


Bicycle

Posted: by Morgan in
2

Owning a bike takes love, work, sacrifice, patience, and patience. It's full of ups and downs. Bikes aren't perfect and neither are you. They can be infuriating and pleasing, unsightly and beautiful, enslaving and emancipating all within minutes of each other.

The story of my bike is a good one. Her name is Margo. I was introduced to her by my roommate this summer. He had been building his own bike for some time before and I wasn't really interested. I rode my gross, heavy, tank-like Schwinn Ranger mountain bike to and from school for most of the year and I didn't care that much. Then I started looking on craigslist for single speed road bikes. I found one for really cheap that I could fix up and sell, so I did. I got all new parts for it and fixed it up really nicely and sold it. I was hooked. And then I found Margo. She started out as just a frame and some cranks, but bit by bit I built her up from parts I found on craigslist. I got her a nice wheelset, new handlebars, a comfortable seat, magnificent brakes (you'll see why this is ironic later), and all the extra little bits necessary to make a bike rideable. I made a lot of mistakes at first, but I loved working on Margo and the more time I spent with her, the more I knew she was the bike for me. She wasn't the prettiest bike to begin with: her cranks were a bit scratched, her frame was gangly and a little too big, her front fork was at a weird angle so that the pedals hit the front wheel when I was turning, her bottom bracket was a little rusty and used proprietary parts. But I didn't care. I was going to make her fly. I would do whatever it took. I still remember the first day I went on a ride with her, I had finished installing the brakes and putting the handlebars on. I put them on completely wrong. They looked ridiculous and my friends thought I was stupid and ignorant, but I loved them and kept them that way out of spite for a while. It wasn't until months later that I realized they actually were ridiculous and wrong. I fixed them and they were instantly better.

When I went off to school in the fall, I switched her from a single speed to a fixed gear. It was simultaneously the best and worst decision I ever made. My cycling friends thought I was stupid and hated Margo, but I didn't care. I had such a connection with Margo that riding any other bike simply felt awkward and undignified and pointless. We rode to school every day and I made sure she had a strong lock to keep her safe while I was in class. I put cards in her spokes and she wore them with pride. We went on short sprints through downtown Newberg, racing cars down hills and bobbing and weaving through the suburbs in the sunshine. She and I pulled my friends down streetlamp-lit roads on their longboards at night. It was a fantastic way to travel. A friend and I took her out on the back country roads at sunset and we cruised along long straight roads that bordered pastures and fields, just soaking it all in.

Then I took the brakes off.

It was freeing. Margo and I were so close and so good at communicating that I simply found I didn't need them. It was a beautiful feeling. Just me and Margo, no barriers between my feet and the drivetrain. She translated every move I made perfectly into the pavement. I knew exactly what to do in every instance. When I was riding, Margo and I were one. I hadn't used my brakes for months and the high-end Shimano 105s were simply extra weight to us. So off they came. I hadn't needed to use them except for once, and even then they didn't help me at all. I crashed into the curb anyway. We were both fine so I didn't think twice about it.

Then came that fateful ride.

We went out to the back country roads again with the same friend, but this time we were hungry for hills. It sounded challenging and exhilarating and I knew that Margo and I could conquer anything geography could throw at us, brakes or no brakes, gears or no gears, coasting or no coasting. Oh boy was I wrong. And it cost Margo everything. We climbed and climbed and climbed, I was thrilled with how well we were doing going up all of these winding hills. Elevation couldn't touch us! We didn't need gears! Who cares if my legs were on fire and I was short of breath? WE WERE CLIMBING HILLS ON A FIXED GEAR. And then I gave out. I simply couldn't pedal any more. I was tired and ready to blast back downhill. So we turned around. It was incredible. We were absolutely flying down the mountainside, going 30, 40, maybe even 50 miles per hour at one point. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. Raw untamed speed, all caused by me and Margo and gravity. Then my friend passed us. I thought to myself, "So what if she has gears and brakes? WE CAN GO FASTER! Come on Margo, let's show them what we can do."

And then came the corner.

I saw it coming. I knew it couldn't end well, but it was too late. My feet were still in the pedal cages, I wasn't wearing a helmet, I didn't have brakes, I was still going upwards of 35 or 40 mph. I started to resist pedaling to slow down, Margo started to wobble. We had never done anything like this before. I could see and hear my friend using the brakes on her bike. As I started into the corner, still wobbling and going too fast, "Come on Margo, we'll just take it wide because I don't want to strike your pedals and launch us both into the air. We'll stop after this and regroup before we hit another corner, okay?" I leaned into the corner, pedals and legs still spinning too fast. We missed the apex, swinging a bit wide, but we made it around. At this point, we were on the knife edge of the border between the right side of the asphalt and the bumpy, dirty, grassy shoulder of the road. I had a choice, and to this day I regret the split-second choice I made in that instant. In that crystal clear frozen moment in time it was like I was on a tightrope and I could either keep my balance or take a rest and step off for just a second. I chose the latter. I chose to veer off ever so slightly onto the shoulder to finish the wide sweeping turn we made. Margo followed my lead, faithful and trusting as she was. I had never led her wrong before. Well maybe once, but there was nothing I could have done then. We went off onto the shoulder and her front wheel hit a bump or pothole or something the incredible forces in action wrenched her handlebars ninety degrees to the right of where they should have been and I completely lost control. I grunted, bracing for the crash I knew was inevitable. I closed my eyes as I pitched off of Margo to my right and it was over. Impact. Something kicked in right at that second. I knew where my body was headed. I knew what kind of surface I was landing on. I knew how my body would react to different types of landings. I knew what could happen if I messed this up too. My right shoulder took the brunt of the impact and I made a wheel shape with my arms and my back and rolled as much as I could. I landed, rolled once and stopped.

I opened my eyes. I was lying in the ditch. My right shoe had come off and was lying uphill about 10 feet away. I felt alright. Nothing was broken. Nothing even hurt yet. I got up and retrieved my shoe and then went to check on Margo. She looked okay from a distance, and then the stark, horrible reality washed over me as I saw her front wheel...

Oh...

God.

What have I done?

There she was, lying on the shoulder, stem and handlebars wrenched from their normal position and front wheel bent and mangled into the shape of a potato chip. Margo, my faithful friend and companion through all those months, through all those rides, through all the ridicule from friends and mistakes made by me. She had always been there, never asking anything of me and always willing to take me wherever I wanted to go. And now as she lay there in a pile of wreckage, I knew it was over. I knew she was too broken to go on. I had asked too much of her and she had answered in the best way she could. I had failed her and I knew it. And the worst part about it was that I had come out of the wreck essentially unscathed. My shoulder hurt for a week or two afterwards, but other than that and some scratches, I was completely fine.

I wasn't really thinking as I picked her up and put her on my shoulder. There was no emotion as I lifted the wreckage off the ground and started walking down the hill. My friend realized that I was not behind her and had turned back to see what had happened. She came back and called a friend to come pick us up. I tried halfheartedly to fix Margo's front wheel while we waited, but it was no use. The damage was done. She was unrideable. As we loaded our bikes into the car and drove back home, I was still processing what had happened. When we arrived at the garage, I took Margo out and leaned her against the wall like I always had when we came back from wherever we were. But this time I knew I wouldn't be coming to get her again any time soon. I didn't really know what to do after that. I had to ride my scooter to school, which was fine, but it wasn't Margo. I would see her in the garage, leaning broken against the wall and would think, "I don't have the time or money to fix that wheel right now," and go on with my life. I had abandoned her and my responsibility to her. For months.

Then Christmas break rolled around, and I had decided to make things right. I would get Margo a new wheelset and fix her up so we could ride together again. I owed her at least that much. I put her in the car as I drove home (minus the front wheel) and did some shopping when I got home and found the perfect set of wheels for her. Beautiful white deep-V's with skinny white tires. I bought them and put them on, working through all the kinks and fixing the handlebars and making sure everything was in good working order. It was like old times again. Then I took her out for a nice evening ride. We rode all around through Milwaukie under the streetlights and trees. I was more careful this time. I slowed way down, took the corners with perfect control, and made sure we could handle going downhill as well as uphill. We even went fast, but not too fast. I did not want a repeat of our last ride. It was beautiful. Margo was beautiful. She still had the scars from her crash: a slightly tweaked fork, a little hesitation in the chainline, a little bit jittery at times. I loved her despite the faults that I had caused her. And these things reminded me what we had been through, reminded me what I had done, reminded me what I was never to do again, reminded me never to ask of her more than she could offer, reminded me to lead the right way.

It's really a beautiful story.

Natural (Better Part II)

Posted: Tuesday, December 13, 2011 by Morgan in
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The key issue here is that of responsibility (or lack thereof). Those who have shortcomings and use their identity as an excuse to ignore those flaws do not take responsibility for their actions and tendencies. We should take responsibility for who we are. We should not be lazy or apathetic about our character because that is one of the most important things about us. We can't necessarily change our circumstances, but we can change our response to those circumstances. If we just let our natural self take over, our response will almost always be negative. But people argue that we should all simply "be ourselves" and everything will work out. They say, "This is the way I was made, why should I resist it? Why would something that comes so naturally to me be so wrong?"

Let me put it this way. I would like nothing more than to eat Kraft Macaroni and Cheese for every meal (because it's SO FREAKING GOOD). That is my natural desire for something that tastes good. But if I were to do that my quality of life would plummet. I would become overweight and out of shape and unhealthy. So I resist that very natural urge. The resistance of that natural desire is good and healthy, while the natural desire itself is harmful and unhealthy in the long run.

A more comprehensive and applicable example would be this: I desire relationship. I want to fill the role of a husband and father. I want to love and be loved in return. But I know that it's not a good idea right now. I know that I am not ready to fill that role yet. I'm barely able to take care of myself, let alone another person who is dependent on me. I am still going to school, I don't have transportation, I still live in my parents' home, I have no steady employment as of yet, I'm not mature enough to be the leader of a household. So I resist that natural desire. I've seen what can happen when people who aren't ready for a relationship pursue one anyway. It's not pretty.

Let's all take responsibility for who we are. That means you too Morgan.

Better

Posted: Monday, December 12, 2011 by Morgan in
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People are a certain way. They were raised to have certain tendencies, responses, and habits. Sometimes these characteristics are good....And sometimes they simply aren't. Sometimes they are annoying, problematic, and unhealthy. Too often I've seen people hide behind who they are and refuse to take responsibility for their natural shortcomings. My generation and the generation that is currently being cultivated and trained have been brought up in the self-esteem era. We are taught that if we have a pulse, we are wonderful. Although this idea stems from a nugget of truth, it has been twisted and stripped of its value by giving value to everyone and everything they do regardless of their actual merit.


We were created in the image of God, so we all have intrinsic worth in the eyes of God.

BUT.

We are also messed up. Every. Single. Person. And we need to change. I can't just go through our lives as the messed up person I am without even a hint of change and expect people to love me because "it's just who I am." That would be unreasonable. People don't like people who do have characteristics that go against their beliefs and convictions and interests and values. They don't like people who have characteristics that they do not respect. There's definitely something to be said for loving people in spite of who they are, but there's also something to be said for being someone who people love because of who they are. I think everyone has the capacity to change, and I have the utmost respect for those who seek to cultivate that positive change in themselves.

I'm not perfect. Not remotely. I'm just as messed up as the next person and I'm saying all of this to myself. I hope I can change. I hope God will change me.

Prodigal

Posted: Friday, December 9, 2011 by Morgan in
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One of my friends from Hillsdale posted this on her blog last year. The thing that is so appealing to me about this video is the truth contained in it. This song is a story about each and every one of us. We all have the same offer of peace and glory and love, we all reject it and turn to our own strength and pride for guidance and security, and we all must come crawling back in repentance to the open arms of Jesus if we are to gain the incredible gift he offers us.

All of that sounds awfully harsh and depressing, but it all makes sense and is presented appropriately in the video.

Watch it.

Untitled

Posted: Tuesday, December 6, 2011 by Morgan in
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What is it about us that makes us want to stand out from the crowd, to be different (in a good way), to be better, to have what others don't have, to be what others can't be.


And then what is it about us that makes us bitter toward the people who do stand out from the crowd, who are different, who are better, who have what we don't have, who are who we can't be?

I think the answer is pride. C.S. Lewis says this about the issue: "Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man...It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest." I think he's right. And I think the comparative and competitive nature of pride is what also makes us despise those who are better or nicer or richer or smarter than us.

I was talking with a friend the type of people for whom I have no respect, and after I thought about it for a while, I realized that the things I did not like about these people were the very things I wanted to be. It hit me like a freight train. I was revolted by the gross hypocrisy I was committing. I don't know how to change my desires, but I know that they need to change. I am judgmental and two-faced and treacherous beyond hope. Only God can fix me, but it seems that he is refusing to do so.

That's where faith comes in. There must be a connection between belief and action and between faith and works. I think faith is that connection. "So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." I don't understand any of those virtues. But I know the truth about God. I know that doesn't change. I know He changes people. I know He loves me. I know Christ died for me.

I know I know I know

I KNOW I KNOW I FREAKING KNOW.

I'M DOING THE THINGS I'M SUPPOSED TO DO! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

Wait.

Wait.







Wait.



















Wait.

Excellence, etc.

Posted: Sunday, December 4, 2011 by Morgan in
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I went on a run tonight and thought about excellence.


Here's how my thought process went. It was almost exactly like one part of myself talking with another part of myself.

Morgan: "Self, I want to bleed excellence."

Self: "What?"

Morgan: "You know, I want everything about me to be the very best it can."

Self: "...how do you mean?"

Morgan: "I'm so sick of being mediocre and apathetic. I want to go above and beyond in everything I pursue. I want to be the best."

Self: "Okay but..."

Morgan: "I want people to see me and say, 'Now there goes an excellent man.' I want excellence to define who I am. I want to be so excellent that it explodes out of me and wraps itself around everyone I come in contact with and infects them with its awesomeness!"

Self: "Are you sure you want that?"

Morgan: "Absolutely."

Self: "Alright, but it seems a bit... you know, prideful in a way."

Morgan: "Come on, aren't we called to be set apart? Technically we're called to perfection as Christians. I don't see the problem with getting as close to that as I can."

Self: "Ok, but you've gone down this sort of route before with resisting sin and temptation and your soul pretty much shriveled up and died for a while. You didn't like that very much."

Morgan: "Yeah but this is different. I'm not trying to resist sin by beating my physical desires into submission. It's not evasion this time, it's pursuit. That's biblical."

Self: "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God."

Morgan: "Don't bring the bible into this. I just want to be better. What's wrong with that?"

Self: "You're in grave danger of cultivating a pharisaic heart."

Morgan: "Seriously? What's wrong with you?"

Self: "Excellence isn't being better than other people. No matter what you say about biblical imperatives (you really need to stopt using that phrase by the way) concerning being a good witness, you really just want other people to see you as this awesome guy who has everything under control. Who is a good leader and responsible and smart and humble and caring and loyal and sacrificial.

You can't fool me.

I am you.

You aren't any of those things, Morgan. Your heart is so proud. All of those things I listed are the opposite of what you really are. You just cover over your passivity and laziness and irresponsibility and stupidity and pride and lack of compassion and treason and entitlement by temporarily killing those things in yourself. You're a reactionary. Who you try to make yourself takes an incredible amount of focus and mental effort and self control. There are too many forces fighting against each other in your head and your heart. You're going to absolutely lose control sooner or later and then you'll be all the things that you hate. You can't do keep this up.

Morgan: "Will you please shut up."

Self: "Nope. You need to hear this. You can't keep this up on your own."

Morgan: "I've done it this long, what makes you think I'm not strong enough to live my entire life with restraint and excellence?"

Self:
"You can't fool me.

I am you.

We've been over this."

Morgan: "I'm just so sick of seeing all the things I hate about myself in other people and I just want to be different. I want to be better. I want to be excellent."

Self: "There you go with the excellence thing again. And the pride thing. You have got to change your focus or else you're going to crash. Hard. You felt yourself slipping last month. Do you want to completely lose it?"

Morgan: "No, so I have to work harder!"

Self: "You can't."

Morgan: "Yes I can! You have no idea what I'm capable of! I can be excellent! I can be all the things I want to be! Those things are good, don't tell me I shouldn't strive for that!"

Self:
"You can't fool me.

I am you."

Morgan: "STOP F@CKING SAYING THAT!"

Self: "I do what I want."

Morgan: "THAT'S MY LINE!"

Self: "Ok this is getting ridiculous. If it's your line it's my line."

Morgan: "..."

Self: "Because we're the same... Oh never mind. You're hopeless. You're arguing with yourself, you realize that's weird right?"

Morgan: "It wouldn't be so weird if you weren't so infuriating... Never mind, you were saying something."

Self: "Right. I'm not saying your pursuit of excellence is necessarily wrong, it's just that you're going about it the wrong way. You have got to change your focus. Your definition of excellence is all wrong. You can't do any of this in your own strength. We're called to be like Christ, not some super type-A overachiever who leads a virtuous life. He was perfect because He was the son of God. You're not God, you're just a man. A pathetic man."

Morgan: "Thanks... jerk. You realize you're saying that stuff to yourself, right?"

Self: "You are such a baby. The thing is that you should pursue becoming more like Christ. That's the whole point of being a Christian. But you've seen for yourself that you can't do it. You have to let Him do it."

Morgan: "I'VE TRIED THAT AND IT DOESN'T WORK!"

Self: "Bullshit. You're just impatient. God has a perfect plan. He's cooking awesome sauce in your life, you just can't taste it yet."

Morgan: "Ok. I don't care what you say, that was totally my line."

Self: "Well maybe you should believe it then."

Morgan: "Ok well we're back on our street. Can we talk about this later?"

Self: "Sure. Just think about it. Maybe you should even *gasp* pray about it."

Morgan: "Don't even start with prayer, you know I don't have a freaking clue what that thing is all about. I'm walking through the door. I'll talk to you later."