The Turtle

This was a journal entry I wrote today but I decided to also make it my entry for my writer's group exercise tonight, in which we had to work in the words "Pop" and "Filter." I didn't get to go to writer's group due to a freelance assignment that came up at the last minute, so I figured I'd share it here. Enjoy!

Today I decided to take advantage of my week off work by heading to the park for some reading by the creek.

I staked out a spot on a bench by the water and sat down with my book, letting the sun soak in and the babbling of the creek provide a peaceful soundtrack. I opened a bottle of pop, took a sip and flipped open the pages, letting myself get caught up in the narrative.

About five minutes in, just as the outside world was fading away and I was lost in the story, I heard a frantic "Hey! Hey you!" from across the creek.

I glanced up and saw a man in his 40s excitedly waving at me. I scanned the creek bank, hoping he wasn't talking to me. He was. I sighed, closed my book and got up from the bench, walking over to the water's edge.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to conceal my irritation.

"Turtle! look at the huge turtle! You have to see it!"

Seriously? This stranger had called me away from my book to look at a turtle? I sighed and looked at the water; didn't see anything.

"Uh, yeah...nice," I said, hoping to close the matter.

"No," he said, pointing upstream. "You're not looking in the right place! You have to see this!"

I sighed again and followed his finger. The bubbling of the water and the glare of the sunlight made it difficult to see anything in the creek.

"Sorry man, I don't..."

I stopped. There it was, a bright green shell under water, the size of a large rock, moving slowly but steadily downstream.

"Oh!" I said, surprised by the excitement in my voice. "There is is! It's moving!"

The two of us stood on our respective creek sides for a good five minutes, watching the turtle make its way down Paint Creek. After awhile I went back to the bench and picked up my book, but he stayed. I peeked over the top of the pages as this man pulled hikers from the trail to look into the water and they excitedly pointed and watched the turtle on his journey. A fly fisher upstream heard the fuss and wandered over, wanting to know what all the excitement was about. It was as if this man was a public relations manager for nature, pulling people out of their routines to stop and take a look at the beauty and wonder of the natural world, something more meaningful and profound than could be heard on our ipods or written in a novel.

As I write this, I'm sitting at a picnic table not far from that bench and I'm reminded of ow many similar experiences I've had recently, reminders that life is not about myself, my work and my life, but about bigger stories and passions. This weekend, another amphibian--Kermit the Frog--pulled my mind off my worries about work and career by reminding me that someday the lovers, the dreamers and me will find the Rainbow Connection. Later that weekend, as rain threatened to ruin a trip to an amusement park and I panicked about turning 30, the innocent and pure laughter of my 1-year-old niece and nephew reminded me that life, at its core, is magic, not drudgery or pain.

I need these experiences. They act as a filter for my life taking my selfishness, anger and pride and replacing them with the reminder that life is a wondrous, mysterious and beautiful miracle, woven by a good, just and glorious Storyteller, who has placed me at my job, at this age...and, at the right times, in close proximity to turtles.

-C

No regrets?

One of my biggest addictions is online surveys.

I don't know why--perhaps it's just narcissism--but I love taking those online questionnaires that ask me "what's your favorite movie," "who's your crush" and "what's your favorite cheese" (I have encountered this final question on more surveys than I care to mention).

One of the more interesting questions to find on those surveys has to do with regret. The popular answer given by myself and others is to answer that we have no regrets because everything we've done, good or bad, has made us into the people we are today.

It seems like a solid answer, one that respects the sovereignty of God and does not dwell too much on the negative. There is a certain serenity in being able to look at the past and realize that our decisions and actions have not destroyed us but have been instrumental in making us the human beings we are at the moment.

I recently, in anticipation of the big birthday, spent some time thinking over the past 10 years or so of my life and the subject of regret began to cross my mind. I began to question whether I really believed that life could be lived with no regrets and, more importantly, whether a GOOD life could be lived without any regrets. And I've come to the conclusion that regret is a good, necessary thing for us to have, particularly for Christians as we go through the process of sanctification and become more like Christ.

The truth is that there are things in my life that I regret saying or doing. I regret paying $2,160 for a dating service several years back (Great Expectations? Not all I hoped for.) I regret sending an e-mail to my district manager at Family Christian that I intended to be a clarion call for strong theology and Godly business practices but was, more realistically, just a showing of my hubris and self-righteousness. I regret having a good friendship that I squandered by becoming judgmental and pious instead of loving and forgiving in the face of sin. I regret angry words to friends and family, idiotic purchases and times when I chased after my own selfish desires instead of submitting to the joy and will of God.

Have those things been instrumental in making me the person I am today? Certainly. But regret has been an instrumental tool in affecting that change.

Regret, in the right light, can be a gift from God. Regret is simply an emotion, a strong dissatisfaction with the things I have done. Regret is the reminder of the fallout and consequence of my sin. When I look back at the times I have wandered from the fold, regret is the shepherd's crook that pulls me back. It's a reminder that says, "remember how that felt? Let's not go down that path again." It is a practical and powerful tool that reminds us of our mistakes and puts us back on the right path.

Regret is a reminder that I am a fallen, sinful man in constant need of cleansing and forgiveness. Regret is the kick in the ribs that forces my eyes to the cross to reveal the need for a savior. Were we to live life without regrets we would likely not take time to remember the blood shed to atone for our mistakes and the life lived to give us the strength to continue on in obedience and improvement. Regret is a powerful and much-needed way of reminding us of our need for a savior and its stinging rebuke is washed away in the blood of Calvary.

I don't think that people who answer the surveys the previous way would disagree with me. I think we all, whether we admit it or not, have our regrets. Like I said, it's important that we have regrets if we ever want to improve and grow as human being. I suspect what people actually mean when they say they have no regrets is that they try not to live a regret-filled life. They regret decisions but don't dwell on them. They look at the mistakes, feel a twinge of shame and foolishness and then move forward with the resolve not to make the same mistake again. That's not a life without regrets--that's a life with healthy regret.

Of course, at the end of life, the Gospel teaches that only followers of Christ can live truly regret-free lives. As John Piper is fond of saying (and I have long-since forgotten who originally coined the phrase), "Just one life, will soon be passed; only what's done for Christ will last." How horrible it will be for those who have not trusted Christ to look back at the end of their lives and realize they've wasted it, that the one true source of life and joy was refused. And yet, for the follower of Christ, there will be the reminder that no matter our sins and failures, the cross was our uniting point, our goal and our life. The problems we encountered, the sins we committed...they are washed away in the blood of Christ as we realize that a life lived in light of the cross, by the power of Christ and for the glory of God is a life that we will never regret.

And in that, Christians can rejoice in healthy regret, knowing that it is the prodding of the Spirit to become more and more like Christ. We often give our mistakes too much credit--it is not the mistakes that have made us the people we are today, nor is it our initiative to move forward with an attitude not to make those mistakes. We never should thank our sins or our own feeble motives and we should always look back on them saying "I can't believe I did that; what a foolish mistake."

But after that twinge of regret should come an exhalation of praise. Yes, we have sinned. And yes, we are right to regret that sin. But that's not the end of our story. Because we have a sovereign and wonderful God who takes even our sins and faults and turns them into something glorious and beautiful so that even a life full of regrets should never be a regretful life.

-C

On 30.

I May Be Old, But at Least I'm not like all those other old guys--Five Iron Frenzy

All my life I've pictured 30 as being the age of no return--the age when you officially become a grown-up.

I suppose it was because I remember my parents both turning 30. I remember the "Over the Hill" balloons, the surprise parties and the jokes about having one foot in the grave. I didn't understand all of it then, but I did get that there was some kind of change. Because I'm the oldest of my siblings, cousins and most of my friends, I had very few people around who hit that age before me. The few 30-year-old friends I had were the butt of my jokes about old age and biological clocks.

With that mentality, I guess it's no surprise that I freaked out in the months, weeks and days leading up to my 30th birthday. I realized that my youthful days were over, that I'm now a man with responsibilities and that many of the things I used to enjoy are in my past. I began to think more about death and how, in the next 10 years, I will likely have to say goodbye to some people I dearly love. I also began to think about the dreams I used to have and began to question whether it was still wise to have those hopes and plans or whether I should just abandon them and settle for jobs that are practical and allow me to survive. All the while, the echo in my head was of the Captain from "Wall-E" saying: "I don't want to survive, I want to live."

But the morning of my 30th came and went. And rather than wake up to questions and dread, I found a renewed sense of optimism and hope, a shot of energy and motivation that has been missing lately. Rather than feel that I was at the end of my 20s, I realized something else: I'm at the beginning of adulthood. I spent 10 years wrestling with identity, plans, hopes and fears...now that I know myself better, maybe it's time to dance.

I'm sure part of that was the result of a much-needed vacation. I spent four days in the Cincinnati area with my family and came home refreshed and relaxed. Not because of the trip itself, mind you. It wasn't the roller coasters at Kings Island that did it or the fish at the aquarium, although that was all a lot of fun. Rather it was the time spent with family and realizing that no matter what changes in my life, these are the people who I will be surrounded with...and that I couldn't ask for a better group of people. As I watched my 1-year-old niece and nephew take in the sites of the trip I realized that what matters is not the things I do at work or the accomplishments I may or may not have as a writer. Rather it's the need to be a good role model and positive influence in the lives of these two young persons and the hope that, 10 years from now, I'll have my own kids looking up to me.

Another part of it was that I happened to come across some old journals yesterday, written anywhere from 10-15 years ago. And as I read my old entries from high school and college I realized just how much was pressing on me at those times that, a decade later, is forgotten or laughed about. There were entries where I moaned about the "worst day of my life"...and I realized I'd forgotten all about it. There were worries about being stuck at the same job forever...and I realized I've changed careers several times since then. There were the pinings after women I was sure I loved...and I realized I'd forgotten most of their names and faces.

Many of the questions I asked in my late high school and early college years are the same questions I still wrestle with. But perspective calms one down a bit. As I thought back on my 20s, I realize just how much had changed and shifted--I've changed careers three times, churches twice and acquired several new groups of friends. I realize that change slows down a bit in the 30s as you become more established, but there's also the exciting realization that some things WILL change. I have a good job right now, but I don't know that I'll be there 10 years from now...I'm excited to see where I go from there. I've started recreational writing again this year...could I be published 10 years from now? Will I still be in Michigan? Will I get married? Become a father? What will I know 10 years from now that I don't know now. If my 40-year-old self visited me today, would he laugh at the beliefs and ideals I hold now, cluck his tongue at my habits and sit me down and tell me that things are about to get really exciting?

Because I have a feeling the 30s might just be fun. This grown up thing could have its benefits. And although I'm sure I will look back on my 20s with nostalgia, the truth is that on this side of the 30th Birthday I'm looking forward and chomping at the bit to get started.

-C

New blog. New decade. New hopes.

First off, welcome to Chrisicisms!

For the past five years I have kept a blog at www.xanga.com/thedubbs. Feel free to pop over there if you want a better understanding of who I am. The blog was my sanity point for the last five years of my 20s and I'm very grateful for the readers I gained during that time and hope many of them follow me over to my new home.

I've started this blog because I felt a new decade in my life deserved some changes. The xanga blog was great but, to be honest, became more of a journal too often than not. And with the popularity of Facebook and Twitter I've found that I don't have a need to write too many entries about my day-to-day life any longer. Rather, this site will be an outlet for my thoughts, views and questions on a variety of subjects, although I suspect that faith will be the cornerstone for it. Having grown up in the church, I still find my faith in Christ to be central to my life. But as I grow and learn, I learn that I'm a continual Christian agnostic--questioning, running away and then coming back to my faith time and again. As culture changes, my faith doesn't...but questions still arise about how to live it out and what it looks like in our modern world. What does it mean to love our enemies? To treat others as we'd like to be treated? Is it possible to preach the Gospel at all times and is it ever possible NOT to use words?

These are the questions I have that I find myself wrestling with and asking time and again. What does faith look like in political engagement? What does it look like when it mixes with our culture? How is faith expressed through the arts? This is what captures my interest and stimulates my thoughts and I invite you to take this journey with me. I invite dialogue and discussion, although my request is that we always keep it civil. We don't learn anything when we just listen to people we agree with nor do we grow without debate and argument. But those must be done in a manner of respect and thoughtfulness.

I look forward to this dialogue. I look forward to meeting new readers, growing new friendships and learning new things. Let's both approach the Gospel not with a sense that we have it figured out but with the idea that we're about to try and take a sip from a fire hose...

Now let's get drenched.