Finding Your Purpose

In last Sunday’s bulletin, my pastor passed along a quote from the movie Hugo which he had recently watched. 

“Sometimes I come up here at night…just to look at the city. I like to imagine that the world is one big machine. You know, machines never have any extra parts. They have the exact number and type of parts they need. So I figure if the entire world is a big machine, I have to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too…Maybe that’s why a broken machine always makes me a little sad, because it isn’t able to do what it was meant to do…Maybe it’s the same with people…If you lose your purpose…it’s like you’re broken.” 

Hugo’s right, “When you lose your purpose… it is like you’re broken.” But the converse is also true: when you’re broken, it is hard to see “purpose.” When we’re hurt, disappointed, betrayed, left behind, abused or neglected we don’t experience our lives as purposeful, significant or meaningful. 

How Do We Discover our Purpose?

“Your true purpose is to be found in God.” is something I read and hear a lot. And while I agree, it is important to remember that this is a process. We don’t start there. We start by feeling significant to one other person–be them a parent, loved one, a spouse. Ideally our lives are a journey of seeing ourselves as significant to different people, different groups of people  whose affection for us enables us to see ourselves (and our purpose) in a God whom we cannot see.

Finding our purpose, our life’s meaning our “place in the machine” happens over time, one person at a time. In times of brokenness it will be most difficult to see. It is usually through reflecting on our lives, praying with our lives (as the sum of our relationships and experiences) that we come gradually to see God’s hand in it all.

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Prayer and Unmatched Socks

Prayer time often feels like an unsuccessful sifting through my basket of unmatched socks, saying “screw it”, throwing all of my unmatched socks in the trash and heading to Wal Mart to buy a new batch.

Today was much the same. Of the 50 minutes I sat on the couch in my office to pray my time was spent roughly like this:

20 minutes thinking about the stuff I have to get done.

3 minutes looking for the perfect pen and paper to record these interruptions.

2 minutes doodling because I’d forgotten what I wanted to remember.

5 minutes beating myself up for things that won’t get done or done to my perfectionist standards.

1 minute feeling guilty that my wife has to work and I don’t provide enough for her to stay home with our youngest son.

1 minute thinking about emails I received about my last article telling me how wonderful I am.

1 minute thinking about a recent Facebook post which prompted one person to message me suggesting I’ve forsaken my faith and God and were pretty sure I was on the verge of inventing a new heresy.

1 minute on my iPhone looking for an app on prayer.

Laughed when I thought about my friend choking on a piece of pizza last night when his mother in law greeted me saying “I hear you’re a renowned speaker. And then seeing my wife’s face which indicated she could substitute a number of other words for ‘speaker’ and knowing she’d be more correct.

Felt a sudden pain in my side and worried for several minutes I was having appendicitis.

Realized it was a result of the bologna sandwich, cheese puffs and diet coke I had slammed down for lunch in honor of my late cousin Howard–whom when we were four I allegedly (according to HIS mother) slammed a real phone over his head for finishing his cheese puffs and reaching into my plate and taking two of mine. Belly laughed out loud because I’d nearly done it again three years ago when we were 34.

Concluded I wasn’t praying well and I should do something productive.

Stood up and threw darts—missed the board, hit my damn diploma and sat back down to give God another chance.

Felt sad. Sensed God put his arm around me and say nothing.

Started to cry.

Stopped crying.

Sensed God say, “I’m really sorry about Howard.”

Nodded, and said “Its good to know you noticed and care.”

Felt awkward, thought about changing the subject to darts, but couldn’t bear to hear God validate the fact that I suck at darts.

Heard God say, “I know how much you loved him. I can’t imagine how much you miss him.”

Started crying again.

Got up to start working and said “I may not be here tomorrow, or the next day. And Sunday, as you know I focus more on the boys than I do you, so… maybe Monday?”

God smiled.

“But I may be back tomorrow, it just depends how I feel.” I said.

Sensed God say, “I’ve got an iEverything now and have Hanging with Friends and Angry Birds, so I have plenty to keep me busy while I wait. Don’t worry about me. I’m good. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

Prayer: Lord, help me to pray as I can, not as I cannot. Amen.

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Choosing Forgiveness

Bud Welch’s 23-year-old daughter, Julie, was killed when the Murrah Federal Building was bombed in Oklahoma City on April 19, 1995. He wrote in 2001 about his journey and struggle in the process of forgiveness.

Statue outside the Murrah bldg in OK city. Below statue reads "And Jesus Wept"

“All my life I have opposed the death penalty. Friends used to tell me that if anyone ever killed one of my family members, I would change. But I always said I’d stick to my guns. Until April 19.

The first four or five weeks after the bombing I had so much anger, pain, hatred and revenge, that I realized why, when someone is charged with a violent crime, they transport him in a bullet-proof vest. It’s because people like me would try to kill him.

By the end of 1995 I was in such bad shape, I was drinking heavily and smoking three packs of cigarettes a day. I was stuck, emotionally, on April 19. I just couldn’t get over it. But I knew I had to do something about it. That’s when I went down to the bombing site.

It was a cold January afternoon, and I stood there watching hundreds of people walking along the chain link fence that surrounded the lot where the Murrah Building had stood. I was thinking about the death penalty, and how I wanted nothing more than to see Timothy McVeigh, and anyone else responsible for the bombing, fried.

But I was also beginning to wonder whether I would really feel any better once they were executed. Every time I asked myself that question, I got the same answer: No. Nothing positive would come from it. It wouldn’t bring Julie back. After all, it was hatred and revenge that made me want to see them dead, and those two things were the very reason that Julie and 167 others were dead….

Forgiveness is a struggle, but it’s one I need to wage. Forgiving is not something you just wake up one morning and decide to do. You have to work through your anger and your hatred as long as it’s there. You try to live each day a little better than the one before.”

Source: The Plough Reader Spring 2001

H/t to Inward/Outward

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The Myth of “Everyone Else”

One evening last week my wife, Mindi, was frantically searching for a “paper” that needed to be signed and returned to school with our 1st grade son Max. After

From Hugh MacLeod's Gapingvoid Blog

an exasperated, resigned sigh, she said “Why can’t we get it together? What’s wrong with us? It seems like everyone else has it all together except us.”

“I hear ya.” I said. “I feel that way too–alot. But I know for a fact that everybody doesn’t have it all together.”

Despite well maintained homes, vehicles, clothing, shiny credit cards, trendy Christmas cards, the latest in Halloween décor, and the smiles no one has it all together. The reality is that on any given day most people….

…feel stuck in the quicksand of grief watching life pass them by.
…put their lives on hold in order to take care of a sick relative.
…watch urgent items on their “to do” list fall through the cracks because life served them up something critical which demanded all their attention.
…worry they are not doing enough, saying the right things or doing too much for their kids.
…feel as though they should be doing something more meaningful, “purpose driven” with their lives.
…regret not spending enough time with or saying I love you enough to a loved one before they died
…live beyond their means
…get behind on their taxes.
…regret making poor decisions.
…sleep, eat, drink, spend, talk, surf, play too much.
…pray to little, not well enough.
…put off important things to play with their kids.
…put off their kids to get important things done.
…feel a mixture of guilt and anxiety about both of the previous two
…don’t exercise—or at least as often as they should.
…don’t follow their doctor’s, therapist’s advice.
…feel like they’re not getting anything out of Mass.
…believe everyone’s holier than them
…wish their kids would eat their vegetables.
…wish they ate their vegetables.
…see the connection between the previous two but don’t feel like doing anything about it.
…have messy houses which they scramble to clean (throw stuff in closets and under beds) or have cleaned before guests arrive.
…put off visiting our sick or aging relative.
…don’t go to the graveyard.
…don’t visit relatives or friends in the nursing home.
…forget to send thank you notes.
…have to borrow money from relatives, friends and institutions.
…have had days when they don’t want to get out of bed.
…wonder if God hears their prayers.
…wonder if God cares.

St. Paul said it best: we all fall somewhere short of God’s glory. This isn’t a pass to be a “slacker”, but does help to explain why no one has nor ever will have it all together. It invites us to trust a God who dwells within and among us who does hold it all together. It points to the counterintuitive love of a God who cares more about being together with us than us holding it together for him.

Prayer: God, give us the grace to allow you to be the Lord of the Messiness and Untogetherness of our Lives. Amen.

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Five Needs of Young People

As you read this brief list, don’t think “I do this.” or “I don’t do this” but rather “How well do I meet this need in the young people in my life?” “What is one thing I can do, one shift I can make to do better in this area?”

1. Attention

Such a basic human emotional need that we often take it for granted when life gets busy and other things become more urgent. Young people especially need our attention. Contrary to what some suggest, our greatest fear is not rejection (per se) but being ignored. When we attend to young people we, in a very real way, they experience us “seeing them” and thus validate their presence as worthwhile.

2. To Feel Heard

We all need to feel heard, but this is especially important for children and adolescents. Hearing a young person involves more than simply listening to them. It involves a committment on our part to listen to them until they feel heard. And very often until they (while talking) become clear on what they’re trying to say.

3. Intimacy

We are created to live in union with God. We participate in that union sacramentally and in relationships in this life. More than anything else young people desire a meaningful relationship with their parents (or other significant adults) but when they cannot get that, they will settle for other people, things and experiences.

4. Access to the Sacred

Youth don’t need religious data as much as they need us to provide and create for them spaces where they can “connect” with the Sacred. In addition to Mass, these include retreats, mission trips, prayer experiences, times of silence and focused meditation. As young people learn to access the sacred in a focused way the foundation is laid to access the sacred in the events of everyday life.

5. A Safe Place

This isn’t always a geographical place. For many youth, home and school are not safe places which drives them to seek relational safey. Teens often say “When I’m with _______ I feel like everything’s going to be OK.” Many adolescents find this in their friends and in a special way in their boyfriends and girlfriends. Even when these relationships are short and/or transient, teens still experience them as vital because they meet such an important need in their lives.

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God–Everywhere

 

 

 

H/t to Hugh Mcleod

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Four Reasons We Avoid Prayer

There are times when it is easy to pray and there are times in all of our lives when we cannot make ourselves pray, no matter how bad we may want to or try.

When I find it hardest to show up to spend time with God, I’m usually battling one of the four enemies of prayer.

1. Noise. Mother Teresa said “God speaks in the silence of the heart.” From iPods to iPhones we are inundated with noise. It is difficult to hear God’s “still small voice” in our noisy lives.  While this doesn’t mean that we must adopt the lifestyle of a monk, we might consider seeking out times during our day where we can be with God in silence.

2. Busy-ness. When we are in “busy” mode, we are usually in productive and efficient mode. Prayer is neither. It is a relationship. And when our schedules get tight, prayer is usually the first thing to go When we make prayer our highest priority, we may not get as many things done, but we are more likely to get the right things done.

3. Being in a Hurry. The first cousin of busy-ness is being in hurry. When we are busy we often try to move faster. It’s difficult to have a meaningful conversation when we’re preoccupied with the next thing on our “to do” list. God wants to converse with us on the deepest levels. When we slow down long enough we are more likely to hear God’s Standing Invitation to intimacy.

4. Past Hurts. We often underestimate the power of broken relationships, abuse, loss, grief, illness and disappointment. Slowing down enables us to quiet our hearts and gives the pain a chance to capture our attention. No one likes to hurt, and so we avoid, often unconsciously, memories of past hurts which bring that pain into our present moment. Prayer is the safest of places to bring our hurts, wounds and disappointments. It is a place where God seeks to reaffirm his love for us and lead us through the process of healing and forgiveness.

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Thank God It’s Friday (for only 12 more hours…)

A snapshot of my day (mind) last Friday…

Perform random act of kindness for a stranger.
Feel proud.
Hide a box of Girl Scout Cookies from Mindi for my Midnight snack. (and as a passive aggressive payback for putting us on a budget).
Feel devilishly proud.

Leave home to go minister.
Make the sign of the cross in front the Church.
Make a profane gesture to some jerk who wouldn’t let me out of my driveway.
Refuse to look at the lady who’s screaming at me for not letting her out of her driveway.
Think about handing her my card and a Lexapro.
Think: “cards are expensive and I need the Lexapro.”

Work hard trying to help people.
Drive home committed to being nice to fellow drivers.
Open a beer but remember I gave beer up for Lent (since I seldom drink it).
Think: “Damn.”
Uncork a bottle of wine.
Wonder: “What was I was thinking giving up alcohol for Lent? No more M&M’s it is!” I resolve (quietly in case I need to change again).

As its’ Friday forego the $4 hamburger for $50 worth of boiled Shrimp and Crawfish.
Think, “It’s good to be Catholic.”
Begin thinking about tomorrow night’s supper.
Think, “I should have done the Stations of the Cross.”
Ask Mindi what she thinks about tomorrow night’s dinner.
Remember that she eats to live, while I live to eat. And its 10pm and she’s sleeping.
Wonder if I’ll be up past midnight to enjoy a leftover link of boudin…
Resolve to make it happen.

Think about my Cajun Catholicism as I hear my mom’s voice (while she’s mauling a Popeyes fried chicken thigh on Good Friday and stuffing other items from the buffet in her foil lined purse) “Baby, Jesus didn’t have boudin on the cross.”
Feel guilty, because dispite the evident hypocrisy, I know there’s some merit to what she’s said.
Admire mom’s piety, paradoxical as it may be.
Think: “I should be more pious.”
Resolve to think more about that next week when I’m not meat deprived.
Start preparing evening soliloquy (prayer).
Wonder if my Friday fast will pay off on the scale tomorrow.
Think: “That’s the least God could do.”
Feel twinge of guilt and remember the people of Japan.
Resolve to play with the boys all day tomorrow.

Open an email telling me a recent talk was unclear and un-Catholic.
Think: “Doesn’t this person know who I am?”
Remember: “I grew up in a trailer.”
Think: “They may be right.”
Get a call from a recent host saying my words changed their life.
Obsess about the first call.
Call three friends hoping they’ll tell me I’m a good person.

Remember: “God loves me in my mess.”
See God grin at me in my mind’s eye.
Resolve to do better tomorrow.
Hear alarm go off to remind me its boudin time…
Pray: “Thank you Lord for boudin…and for my faith…and for loving the complete mess that I am. Amen.”

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Persisting Through Resistence

Persistence is More Effective than Pushing

When young people are not interested in us or our message, many will either back off completely or try to push through their resistance in one big push. Neither of these are effective over the long term.

Most of our contact with young people won’t occur at one time events. That’s why persisting, rather than pushing through their resistance is important. When we stay engaged with them long enough applying our  presence (rather than pressure) over a longer period of time we will earn trust. Trust is important when you’re asking someone to give away their lives to Christ.

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Young People Don’t Need Another Book

This April the Youcat will be released. It is a contemporary translation of the Catechism for young people. It is sure to be an amazing work, asCardinal Schoeborn is a brilliant theologian and Churchman.

But youth don’t read.

They connect. They watch. They listen. And they interact.

Out of displeasure with this reality many shout “It shouldn’t be that way!” and then cite this as another symptom of young generations’ waning faith.

But this is not a matter of faith—it’s a matter or common sense. It’s a matter of marketing. It’s a matter of understanding your audience.

Young people don’t need another book. They need adults willing to meet them at the intersection of faith and real life. They need adults who will remain with them long enough to reveal God in the messy contradictions of their own life.   This is a thirst of the heart more than a question of the mind. It  often goes unmet, because its easier to hand them a book than offer your heart.

Young people don’t need another book—they need you.

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