Life Is Not Fair

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



In this video, Mike Rowe talks about a principle we toss around with frequency — particularly when it is convenient (in realms like parenting or mentoring) — but rarely do we ever take the time to consider how profound and difficult the truth of the statement is.

Life is not fair.

Rowe uses the example of a job he had earlier in his life and a generous holiday bonus he received with great joy — until he found out a coworker had received more than him. Rowe goes on to simply observe and accept the very honest reality that life is full of these moments and circumstances. I really appreciated that he did not spend any time trying to explain the details of “what could be going on” or why we may or may not be “seeing it correctly.” Instead, he simply stated it and accepted it as a common life experience: life is not fair. Life will be full of moments just like this one. Rowe spent no time trying to blame the bosses or talk about what is wrong with the culture of his former workplace.

Nope, this is going to happen in life. A lot. We can either accept it as a common experience or fight it (to no avail, I might add) at every turn.

And he rightly pointed out the two things I think are important about remembering how to respond to life’s unfair moments: circumstance and control.

First there is circumstance. Life happens. Each day you wake up, and life hands you your pieces of the puzzle. All you have to work with are the pieces of the puzzle you are handed that day. They might be more than what you need, and they might be wrong in every way. You might not have the right puzzle pieces, or the picture on the lid may be inaccurate. You might not have enough to finish the job. Whatever it is, each day presents you with another piece to play in the puzzle of your life.

So when that piece is lousy, what do you do? When the circumstances are off, and life is unfair, how do you respond? Do you jump on Facebook and rant about how things aren’t turning out in your favor? Do you blame others for the plot you find yourself in?

You certainly could. Of course, it just doesn’t make a difference with those puzzle pieces. It doesn’t change the circumstances. And if it does anything, it changes you from the inside — and not for the better.

But then there is control. There are things we can control. We can control our choices, and we can control what we are going to do with the mess that lies in front of us. No matter who is to blame, no matter how hopeless, and no matter how unfair, there is only one direction we can head: forward. We pick up the pieces, and we do the best we can with what we have. We do not concern ourselves with how our table of puzzle pieces compares to our neighbor’s. We simply do the next right thing with what we have to work with.

And as I have added throughout this series, this does not mean we cannot address injustice and that there aren’t proper ways to address things in life that are wrong. This is about being crippled by the idea that you are entitled to a different situation just because somebody else experienced something different.

And I won’t be taking the time to write some cheap blog post about this or that group and their “participation trophies” or their generational entitlement; those are easy straw man arguments to make, and the thick irony is that those who make them miss the very principle we are espousing here.

It is your path. Be grateful for what is on your path. Be grateful for the opportunity to walk your path and to make something of the hand you have been dealt. And do not calculate the value of your path by comparing it to your neighbor’s.

And as for your neighbor’s path? Be grateful for that, too. Cheer for their success and celebrate their victories. For their path will have its own turns and disasters — and we all need cheerleaders. And the negative internal change we spoke of above? It can be reversed by celebrating the success of others. Gratitude begets more gratitude.

No matter what life throws us today, let’s crack our knuckles and be glad to tackle it the best we can.

Missing More than His Limbs

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



This video is loaded with good stuff — perspective, inspiration, personal challenge. Just from the perspective alone, the video is worth a watch. We often have opportunities to see things, hear stories, or meet people, and each helps us put things in perspective. That is one of the blatant and surface-level takeaways from this video, at least for me. Some people have it bad — really bad — and it helps me to remember how my circumstances stack up against those of others.

I live quite a life of opportunity, comfort, and privilege. This video reminds me of that, as I’m sure it does many others. In addition, it reminds me that some of those comforts and privileges have come from the sacrifice of others. I don’t take that lightly.

It’s important to note that the power of these stories lies in the stories themselves — and the people who get to tell them because of their own experience. One of the dangers of this video is that people watch it from a place of opportunity and privilege, feel the conviction and the inspiration, and then project it onto everyone else from their place of comfort. I’m not faulting Rowe for this, but the danger is there.

The power is in the story and the inspiration of seeing life lived out in a compelling way.

The danger is when we take that inspiration, turn it into a principle, and then expect everyone else to do the same. We cannot do that. Travis has his story: He is a human being with unbelievable complexity and nuance, personality, training, context, relationships, etc. Every human life is different, and every human story is valuable. The story is powerful when it is shared and used to start great internal and external conversations. The story is dangerous when it stops being a story and becomes an expectation projected onto everyone who struggles.

The projection is doubly dangerous when it is being projected by people who speak from places of comfort, power, influence, and privilege. We need to be aware of those things. I am purposely leaving out political buzzwords that will set off my audience, but I think we all need to be challenged (on all sides of our many debates and conversations) to think about where and how we project those things.

But I digress in a serious way, because after writing a whole post on the dangers of this video, I actually really enjoyed its conventional wisdom. The video ends with Rowe asking two questions.

“If [Travis] can get through the day without whining and complaining, why can’t I?”

This is the dynamite question we can all be challenged with. This is the question that inspires me and challenges me today.

His second question, appropriately qualified, is where it gets dangerous:

“With respect, why can’t anyone?”

May we be challenged to live with less whining and complaining. May we be resolute in our commitment to pursuing our day with a more positive attitude. But may we also ask that second question with much less assumption and more genuine intrigue. May our personal conviction lead to a better life (a “good eye” to call back to our previous discussion), and our intrigue lead us to more compassion and a less assumptive, less critical spirit.

And in this, may we find and help create a better world.

Cheerfulness Is a Choice

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



I’m not sure I would add much to this conversation at all. I will just say, “What Mike said!”

In all honesty, I feel like if I were to write a few paragraphs, I would be trying to manufacture some deep, profound thoughts pulled from the pool of post-conventional wisdom.

So I won’t! There it is. Cheerfulness is a choice. May we all be challenged by the application of this in our own lives.

Bringing the "Awesome" to Anything

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



In this conversation, Mike Rowe speaks against this common idea of “following your passion.” I think Mike might say this idea falls squarely in the realm of the less mature, pre-conventional wisdom. He suggests passion is not something you follow, but instead something you bring with you.

One of the things we are intentionally working on at Impact Campus Ministries is the art of sacred vocation. We have a fundamental belief that all work is holy and sacred. There is a sanctity to a vocation that is often overlooked. Why is vocation holy and sacred? Because vocation is, in its essence, about the proper ordering and stewarding of God’s creation. For centuries, Christian theology has unintentionally (I hope) pulled apart soil and spirit, giving the impression that the “Kingdom work” is done by clergy and missionaries, while the rest of the parishioners essentially make money to help the real work happen. They rub shoulders with the unsaved at their places of employment. They bring the money and “the lost” to the conversation and the holy folks do the spiritual work.

But this is not grounded in good theology. God is putting the whole world back together, bringing shalom to the physical chaos of creation. What this means is that the real work is done by those people who have their hands in the soil (literally or otherwise). It is the job of the clergy to help others see why their work matters. The non-clergy folks are actually engaging in the ends and not the means to that end. It’s all holy and spiritual work, but the clergy are engaging in the means to the Kingdom end — we usually have it backward!

This is so important in the conversation Rowe begins above, and yet one of the hardest ideas to grasp is where the passion lies. For many, the conversation about sacred vocation revolves around the idea that they must find the perfect vocation where their true passion lies.

But as Rowe points out, this is backward thinking.

Passion does not lie in the content of the vocation; passion describes the way we engage vocation in the first place. I think some of us go through life looking for the thing in our future that will give us passion when that passion is already within us and would transform the way we engage with our present.

One of the values at ICM is passion. We use this word to talk about the energy we bring to our pursuit of God. In this case, it is fitting that Rowe’s point is we bring passion to our work. In the same way passion describes the energy we bring to our pursuit of God, passion also describes the energy we bring to our vocation.

We have all met people who remind us of Les (from Mike’s video). They aren’t driven by their circumstances but bring a passion that affects the circumstances around them. It might be a grocer who always makes you feel better by the time you are checked out. I once heard a speaker talk about the parking lot attendant at a local establishment; living in a major urban city, he will drive past two other stores of the same franchise just to interact with this parking lot attendant. Why? Because they bring passion to their job, and their job becomes a sacred kind of “holy.”

Some of these people have jobs that would impress us — jobs of influence and intense specialization and high salaries.

And yet, some of these people work incredibly menial jobs and have a similar impact on the world around them.

It is true we have been created with certain gifts and are wired to be good at particular things. It is true some jobs align with those gifts better than others and that some situations are suffocating and stifling the life that burns within us. But we are not created for a particular career. We are created to be a particular kind of person. Our careers are simply the place where we can let those things grow.

No Such Thing as a Bad Job

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



This is a great conversation to follow our last post where we talked some about persevering in the face of rejection. In this video, Rowe shares more stories about his youth and what he learned about work. His point in this video is that every job is an opportunity to be shaped and to learn. This is good wisdom, rarely spoken of or promoted as worthwhile.

And yet, I know many of my students would struggle with exactly how to apply this truth. Do you just say yes to every opportunity that comes your way? Usually not. Especially as life begins to progress and take off, you will be given more and more opportunities; and in fact, saying no to things will be the bigger challenge. There are some chapters in life where you are not given multiple opportunities. You feel like you aren’t being given any shots, and you take the first thing that comes along. Yes, this happens as well. Life is full of complexity and just about every experience you can imagine. We aren’t talking about formulas, but general principles and conventional wisdom.

What do you do when you graduate with your degree, and you are looking for that career? I know many, many students who are paralyzed by the fear of screwing their life up at that moment. Young adults at this age are crippled by the choices, often believing if they make the wrong decision in these moments, they will drastically change the trajectory of their life.

This may be true. But that is what life is about, and you have no other options — except, of course, to do nothing.

We do the best with what we have; we make the best decisions we can. What I see most of my students doing is trying to remove all uncertainty from the equation before they move forward. This is foolishness — the opposite of wisdom. All of life is a calculation of high/low risk, high/low reward situations. You make the best choices you can with the best conventional wisdom you can muster. You make the decision, and you move forward.

As much as I might have tried to convince myself otherwise, I have never made a life decision with a complete absence of uncertainty. There is always the unknown. Sometimes I have made decisions where I felt 90% confident (and I’ve been wrong about some of those, by the way). I often make decisions about things that I feel 75% sure about. And sometimes life has thrown me situations where I needed to make a decision immediately, or in the near future, and I made decisions I felt only 50.1% sure about (in non-mathematical terms, an “I have no idea, but I’m just barely leaning this way” decision). This is a part of life and a part of moving forward. It is necessary.

We will make mistakes; we will judge things wrongly. We will make honest mistakes, and we will make mistakes where we certainly knew better and chose wrongly anyway. This is all a part of life.

And every chapter we walk into will provide us with an opportunity to learn and be shaped by our circumstances. The moment after we make these decisions, it is no longer about the decision, but about the way we respond to the circumstances. What we learn, what we take with us, the way we will be different because of this chapter. These are the things that matter.

So press on and make decisions. Know that you will probably have to do things you hate and go through periods where you don't have “the right fit” and struggle to find yourself. This is a normal part of the human experience in the modern world. Resist the existential crisis and push on to the good stuff that will go with you into the “next.”

[Maybe] The Best Thing to Ever Happen to You

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



Rowe took time in this video to share multiple stories of rejection he experienced on the path to his own calling. While I’m not a major fan of the phrase “pursuit of happiness,” I really did appreciate his overall point. But I would like to add something I don’t feel he touched on.

Throughout his story, the obtrusive question I kept thinking about was, “Why did he keep going down this path?” I do not ask that question with an assumption of the negative (“He should have tried something else!”), but rather an assumption of the positive (“Why was he driven to persevere?”).  The fact of the matter is that Rowe would have never learned this great life lesson to share with the rest of us if he had not kept going back, again and again. But because he did, he learned a very important lesson about rejection.

I believe some people have an internal awareness of the thing they are made to do. There is this inner voice that tells them they exist to be a part of some idea or create a certain experience. Because of this, they keep getting up and walking down the same road. I do not want to give the impression that I understand the psychology behind this reality; certainly, insecurity rears its ugly head in many different ways for so many of us.

I do know what I have experienced with my students, though. Many of them are very quick to question what we are doing and who we are becoming. Many of us see obstacles and frustrations as signs that we’re not made to do “this” and we change our track. I often feel like every time we do this, we begin to suffer an increasing lack of resilience and rising levels of doubt about ourselves.

This is not to say that obstacles and pushback are not powerful tools to help us make decisions and find the best fit in life, but I want to recognize that there is a tacit awareness, a resonance of the soul, a leading of the Spirit, that wants to guide us to who we are becoming. When we find that thing, we need to run down that path with a resilient commitment to the calling. We need to trust that calling and learn from our mistakes — which is another thing I feel like Rowe didn’t address. He probably learned a great many things from those experiences of rejection. Still, we push on, knowing that if we keep pushing toward the good, we will experience hardship and rejection. And yet, through it all, the relentless pursuit of our calling might just lead us to a place better than we could ever hope or imagine.

A DAY IN THE LIFE: Personal Time

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the second week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

“OK, Marty, but what do you like to do for FUN?”

I get this question a lot when I talk about my life. It’s a good question and it’s important for all of us to find space to do things that we love — personal space built to refresh us and let us simply be who we are, unplugged.

This part of my life used to be a lot larger, that is for sure. Some of that is OK. I love my job and find it incredibly fulfilling. There are many parts of my job that don’t feel like a job at all. Moments when I get to teach, preach, or speak to a group of people are awesome times that fill up my tank. It is what I am made to do. I also find that whatever free space I have is going more and more to my children. I think God is teaching me to be OK with this. I’m not sure any alternatives are the right option. My children are becoming my joy and that is just fine.

However, it’s still important to make sure you don’t always have to be “on” all the time. In years past, I used to enjoy major commitments to different video games. I had a long, long affair with World of Warcraft that than turned toward Star Wars: The Old Republic (yes, I was an MMORPG guy) and I’ve had my seasons where I flirt with Skyrim or Call of Duty, but those are short-lived. Too often as I’ve grown older, these relatively brief seasons turn into watching different TV shows or documentaries.

I do enjoy the Cincinnati Bengals whenever I can (which isn’t very often the way that they play).

And I have some other vices that involve tobacco pipes and distilleries, but we don’t need to pull that apart here.

One favorite hobby of mine comes around each fall and involves solitude, silence, and beautiful mountain scenery — hunting. I recently finished another season of hunting and enjoy this annual activity so very much. I love fall/winter, I love the mountains, I love the practical nature of filling my family’s freezer with meat that I harvested myself and can be confident was taken and butchered humanely (I am not trying to offend my vegetarian brothers and sisters; I respect you very much). I enjoy guns and the sport of hunting (while not acting like common-sense gun legislation is a ridiculous conversation). [My goodness, why all the disclaimers? What a world we live in.]

At any rate, I do make space for personal enjoyment. I love lots of things, but I also love hunting and here is my short video. (Don’t worry, there’s no bloody animal at the end.)

A DAY IN THE LIFE: Support Raising

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the second week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

It’s the part of our job that very few of us love. I don’t think there are very many of us who get into this support-based ministry gig because fundraising is one of our life goals. However, it’s the part of our job that empowers us to do the thing we are called to do, and oftentimes God uses this portion of our work week to bless us immensely. Whether it’s the ability to trust in God’s provision, grow in our communication skills, work hard to build healthy relationships, or grow in our professionalism, this part of our jobs makes us into better ministers.

Support raising is a job never finished. With the way Impact Campus Ministries does fundraising, it’s incredibly hard work up front, often taking 1–2 years to reach fully-funded status. Once this is done, the hard work is mostly over, but continual and consistent maintenance is needed to stay at a healthy place for your ministry financially.

How do we do it? Well, 90% of good fundraising is done by sitting down, face-to-face, and getting to share your heart and vision for the ministry work you do. Forget the slick presentations and infographics; you don’t need a lot of smoke and mirrors to impress people or trick them into giving. You simply need a great story and vision of how you feel God is calling you to do ministry. We have opportunities to share that vision and ask people if they would be willing to come alongside us as financial supporters. We have supporters of all kinds. Some give large annual gifts and some give $25 a month. We all enjoy having supporters who really power our ministry by being $200 monthly supporters or more. Sometimes, these same people will even show up and give above and beyond their commitments for special campaigns or year-end gifts.

The generosity of others is always a great lesson and encouragement to people like us. It affects us and makes us different people as a result. I know for me, it makes me less and less cynical and more gracious and generous with my own time, money, and other resources. I am thankful for this.

And so one of the things I do every week and month, as we consider A DAY IN THE LIFE, is support raising. I have to make sure it’s something I engage on a regular basis. Whether it’s running a crowdsourced campaign on Facebook to raise funds for a trip, or shouting out to all of my alumni to ask them to consider to giving back, this is an effort that is constantly needed to do what we do.

I suppose it would be a real missed opportunity not to offer a link so that you — YES YOU! — can become a part of our support team. You can go to this link and sign up to give a one-time or recurring gift. You can choose to support the work of my family directly by finding my name, you can choose to sponsor the work I do with students by finding BEMA Ministry on the “Ministry Team” tab, or you can even support the wider work of our organization by selecting the General Fund.

I recently just got back from a summer of support raising. This is my very brief video diary about fundraising, recapping the experience for you to enjoy:

Top 12 of CiHD: #7

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (the first week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

We continue our look at the Top 12 Blog Posts at Covered in His Dust by introducing the seventh most viewed post in the history of the blog. This is the first post I ever wrote for this more-than-four-years journey; it was written all the way back in February of 2013 and served as the launching point for my entire body of work. It is titled “SABBATH: A Trust Story” — and you can find it here.

In this series, as we look at each post, I want to ask three questions: why, what, and what else? Why do I think this post got so many views; why were others drawn to it? What do I hope people found when they got here; what do I hope they heard? Finally, what else have I learned about this; what else would I say about these ideas?

WHY THIS POST?

First of all, I’m super happy to see that this post made it onto the “top 12” list. This is the foundation of my entire body of work. The first time this idea was presented to me, it changed everything. I began to orient my entire theology around this idea. It was the approach that I believed (and still do) maintains the most hermeneutical integrity, logical consistency, and compelling potency.

There are a lot of reasons people might have found this post. They may have been researching Genesis 1 and the creation narrative. They might have been trying to study Sabbath. I know this particular post has been shared by many, many students and people connected to my ministry. People who know me well know this lesson is where it all begins and where it all keeps circling back to.

For me, this is it. It doesn’t matter so much to me why they got here — but I’m thrilled they did.

WHAT DO I HOPE THEY FOUND?

This concept is the result of me piecing together two separate teachings that impacted me and changed my theology forever. The many questions and observations I had compiled over years of study and Bible college education finally found expression, and over the course of a few years I was able to package them in a way that finally “clicked.”

To give appropriate credit, the first teaching was one I heard in person at the Black Sheep in Colorado Springs. It was the Everything Is Spiritual tour by Rob Bell, and I got to see an earlier version with additional material that never made it into the recording. This was before Bell’s more provocative days when he became such a controversial figure. I also listened to a sermon from Mars Hill Bible Church on August 16, 2009, that finally dropped the last few pieces into place for me intellectually.

What had bothered me for years was the fact that almost all schools of Protestant theology I had been exposed to had made the story of Christian theology about the entrance and removal of sin. As I studied the Text, though, the story seemed to be about something much wider, deeper, and comprehensive than that. Sin was certainly a part of the story, but it seemed not to be taking its proper place in a larger theological narrative — it had become the narrative.

To hear a teaching that spoke of the importance of beginning where God started His story and ending where God ended His story was like throwing the lights on in a dark room. I realized the theology I had been handed started a tad late in the biblical story. Even if Genesis 3 was only a couple chapters later, skipping the first story (or rendering it irrelevant because of the second) was a major theological faux pas.

Obviously, I want to keep writing about this, but that is what my four-and-a-half-year blog series was for. Suffice it to say that I hope people found a refreshing way to reframe the biblical narrative, and perhaps a different way to begin to understand God.

WHAT ELSE WOULD I SAY?

I’m not sure there is much I would add to this post. It’s relatively thorough. Over the years, I have continued to learn, shape, and adapt this teaching in different ways. There might be nuances I would approach differently, but I would be nitpicking. There is a lot of material here to get introduced to beyond just the theological shift. This whole teaching is bathed in a combination of historical-contextual and literary hermeneutics. There are conversations about chiasms and other Hebraic literary devices. There is a lot in this post!

I can also appreciate the way Rabbi David Fohrman’s teachings have shaped the material in this post (and even more so over the following years). I would certainly recommend his online academy (Aleph Beta) for those looking to learn more from an orthodox Jewish perspective. While Fohrman is not a follower of Jesus at all, his approach will help one become familiar with how Jews interact with the Text, and his conservative perspective will temper the progressive overtones of a voice like Bell for those who struggle to accept that.

Overall, I’m thrilled to have this make the list. Here’s to trusting the story!

PULL UP A CHAIR: Stories on Pursue

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the fourth week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

Lowell Kosak is the Director of Staff Development for Impact Campus Ministries; he lives in South Bend, IN with his wife Katie and two sons who are grown and on their own. Besides being a great personal friend, Lowell has a tremendous heart for spiritual health and our personal pursuits of God. His voice rings with passion for God and a care for His heart. I could think of nobody better to share stories about our discussion last week than Lowell.

I am inspired by Henri Nouwen. He compared his yearning to become more intimate with the Father to a trapeze performance. There is a special relationship between the flyer and the catcher. The daredevil flyer swinging high above the crowd lets go of the trapeze and simply stretches out his arms, waiting to feel the strong hands of the catcher pluck him out of the air. The flyer must never catch the catcher; he must wait in absolute trust. For Henri, and for me, there is a yearning to fly in the spiritual life, but only within relationship and yielding more and more into the loving hands of the Eternal Catcher.

More often than not, I am that flyer who is reaching out to try to catch.

God has recently been teaching me a lesson about my intimate pursuit of Him. Just one week before Christmas, my dear Katie suffered a mild stroke. We are so very thankful for God’s gift of grace that we were able to get to the hospital right away and that she suffered no brain bleeding or significant damage. While she is making a complete recovery, the time and extent of her therapy has been slower and more difficult than either of us had anticipated; not because it was medically unexpected—she is making great progress—but that we were not ready for the time, the slow down, and need to wait and be patient.

In just a short amount of time, I was ready to get back to it, to travel, to work, and to achieve. While I teach differently, that our identity does not flow from our accomplishments and production, I certainly was not living out my words. I was proceeding as if I was indispensable. May I confess to you that I like to think that I’m one step ahead of the game and close to arrival. But in reality, in reaching out to catch the Catcher, I’m not trusting God’s story for me. 

Of the importance of the pursuit for the spiritual leader, the vocational pastor… How can I announce joy, peace, forgiveness, and reconciliation unless they are part of my own flesh and blood?

How can I do this?

How can I know this?

I must have need of them and humbly admit my utter emptiness without them. I must surrender my life story to the Gospel, the story of God, and there he meets me.

So joy is birthed from the agony, disappointment, and sorrow that I feel.

True peace only comes when I am honest with myself and the rage and anxiety that comes from deep inside.

As I allow the Holy Spirit to open me up and expose my wretchedness, I also know Jesus’s forgiveness that he freely gives.

While I am so inadequate to take on the mantle of leadership, God reconciles me to Himself and sends me on a mission of bringing His peace and love into the world.

This prayer of Charles de Foucauld has become a prayer for me this year.

Father,I abandon myself into your hands;do with me what you will.Whatever you may do, I thank you:I am ready for all, I accept all.Let only your will be done in me,and in all your creatures –I wish no more than this, O Lord.Into your hands I commend my soul:I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,and with boundless confidence,for you are my Father.

I am learning to accept being expendable. I have to become not so important in my eyes that I can and will stop and rest. Sometimes we can’t help but stop in times of crisis, and in that, we have to be ok with the time to just release control and stop. But in day-to-day, week-to-week living, I must also learn to have regular rhythms of work and rest.

In Sabbath, I am letting go, I am waiting and trusting God to do the catching. As I stop, I only hear His voice that calls me His beloved and His son. Paul’s words in Romans ring in my ears:

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children. And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.” (Romans 8:15–17 NLT)

MY BLOG IN 2018: Week Two

I have been wanting to take some time each month this fall to share with you a little bit of what to expect on my blog in the coming year. Starting in January, I will begin a weekly rotation of blog themes that will drive the conversation in 2018. In the last post, I spoke of how I will be taking the first week of each month to share the Top 12 Blog Posts of Covered in His Dust. We’ll look back and see what posts have been used the most and I’ll enjoy speculating as to why they are the favorites.

The second week of my rotation will be dedicated to a series I’m going to call “A Day in the Life,” and it should be a collection of different things I do in my job each day. For many of my supporters, they have commented on how nice it’s been to see updates and the occasional video where they get to see what I do secondhand. It’s just one more way we can make our world a little smaller and I can invite you to see what it’s like to be a campus minister and/or President of Impact Campus Ministries.

Some examples of this might be the work I do with students or showing you some of the groups I teach here on the Palouse. I might do a post on discipleship and “take you on a walk” with one of my disciples. I might show you a meeting or two, such as those with the staff of ICM. I might introduce you to some of the staff at Real Life on the Palouse and talk about my partnership with the church there. And maybe I’ll even do a post on what I enjoy doing with my free time. There are so many things to invite you into!

None of these posts will be designed to be instructive or profound in any way — they’re just a fun trip into my day-to-day life where you get to see a little bit of things from my perspective. Of course, I’m sure there will be some cameo appearances from my family (they are who everyone really wants to see, I know) and we’ll have some fun.

So I look forward to inviting you into my life next year as we explore “A Day in the Life.”

PHILIPPIANS: Joy

It has always been hard for me to believe Paul didn’t have favorites because of his letter to the church in Philippi. Compared to some of his other letters, the epistle to the Philippians reads like a gushing love letter to a group of his best friends. Paul has shown us his tough sides in some of his other correspondences. To the Galatians, he was astonished, perplexed, and furious. To the Corinthians, he was confrontational and prophetic, demanding his voice be heard as a voice amongst the apostles. But to the Philippians, Paul has nothing but joy in his heart.

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

Paul seems to go in and out of praise and encouraging exhortation; Paul will let his joy spill over into a charge for the Philippians to keep being all God called them to be.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.

Again, before the chapter is out, we find another round of praise and encouragement:

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

More joy, followed by:

Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Then, whether I come and see you or only hear about you in my absence, I will know that you stand firm in the one Spirit, striving together as one for the faith of the gospel without being frightened in any way by those who oppose you.

This exhortation flows into chapter 2, one of the better known passages of Philippians. Paul encourages them to have the mind and humility of Christ, who did not consider divinity something to be held onto, but was willing to become a servant. Paul encourages them to live lives that are worthy of such a master and imitate their teacher and Lord. He tells them to work out their salvation in fear and trembling and to do everything without grumbling and conceit. In a similar call to the one given to the Ephesians, Paul seems to be reminding them that if they don’t have love for each other, they will have very little to say to the world around them.

Paul then calls the church in Philippi to imitate him, as he’s asked so many of the other churches to do. He invites them to join him in rejoicing, no matter their circumstances. 

As far as the context to the church in Philippi, I am not aware of too many scholars who see the Philippian church as a huge and powerful body of believers. In fact, the Text would seem to suggest the opposite. This might not surprise us if we read about the church’s humble beginnings in the book of Acts. But it would appear that the body of believers here is small and possibly quite poor.

However, this does not mean they are a weak people. Consider Paul’s words in the last chapter:

I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles. Moreover, as you Philippians know, in the early days of your acquaintance with the gospel, when I set out from Macedonia, not one church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only; for even when I was in Thessalonica, you sent me aid more than once when I was in need. Not that I desire your gifts; what I desire is that more be credited to your account. I have received full payment and have more than enough. I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

More joy from the Apostle! Paul speaks to them about having little and finding contentment, and he seems to hint at their current position and his amazement at their willingness to help — even when they lack. He recalls how other churches struggled to support his work. Even wealthy churches like the one in Corinth (you might remember we got to hear the other side of that coin [no pun intended]) seemed to be unwilling to give. But this body of believers has shared out of their own provision more than once. Paul brims with appreciation and healthy pride in the way they understand the Kingdom. He prays God will pour out His blessing on them for how they have been willing to bless others.

In the midst of all the harsh words and tough exhortations in Paul’s letters, I have always found the letter to the Philippians encouraging. My prayer has often been that I would do my part and belong to a body of believers who stands on their shoulders well. As we read about in Hebrews, may we remember that “only with us will their work be made perfect.”

She Giggled (part two)

Continued from the last post...

O YOU OF LITTLE FAITH

There is a story in the gospels we all know quite well. It’s the story of Peter walking on the water. It’s an amazing story that fascinates us to no end. Our western minds are blown away as we consider the possibility of a man pursuing Jesus out onto the waves of the Sea of Galilee, performing such a miraculous feat to mirror that of his rabbi. It’s almost too much for us to believe. And then, just as we’re beginning to become skeptical, Peter meets all of the worldly expectations and succumbs to the failure we’ve all been wishing he would defeat as our representative. He wavers, he fails, and he sinks.

I’ve seen the look in too many people’s eyes as they read that story. It’s this look of hopeful disbelief, followed by a “that’s what I thought would happen” expression on their face (even if they’ve read the story a thousand times, I will see this expression or hear this tone). We then listen as Jesus scolds Peter’s faith — while we all readily put ourselves into Peter’s shoes and share his scolding — and we nod.

But there is so much more taking place in this story. Much has been taught about this story already, so I don’t want to be accused of plagiarizing anything. Ray Vander Laan had an excellent treatment of this subject in That the World May Know, a series put out by Focus on the Family (DVD 6, “In the Dust of the Rabbi,” Zondervan). Rob Bell treated the subject very well in Velvet Elvis (Zondervan, 2005). And another great and concise source of reference for this story can be found in the NOOMA video entitled Dust (flannel.org), among many others. I could not recommend these resources enough (or any others from these teachers, for that matter).

The first-century concept of discipleship was such that the most “successful” thing you could do in the Jewish culture, the thing they valued the most, was the study of Torah. One of the pinnacle experiences of the Jewish school system was being given the opportunity to become a talmid — or as we say it, a disciple.

If you thought you had what it takes as a student of the Torah, you would apply for discipleship under a rabbi. One of the greatest honors a boy could receive would be the acceptance of a rabbi to be his talmid. If a rabbi chose you as a disciple, he was in essence saying to you, “I believe you have what it takes to become just like me.” It was a great honor. So, the path of a disciple was a path of memorizing the rabbi’s teachings, taking on the rabbi’s set of interpretations, and — most importantly — becoming just like the rabbi.

This meant you spent all day, every day, trying to mimic the thoughts, actions, and teachings of your teacher. Some Jewish scholars say they have seen a rabbi proceed into a restroom and in his wake are ten or twelve young disciples.

You want to be just like your rabbi.

If your rabbi does it — you do it.

And you know that you can do it — because if you could not have done it, the rabbi would never have called you. The rabbi’s call is his affirmation in your ability and potential.

Peter finds himself in a boat that night with the other disciples and they end up encountering Jesus, who happens to be walking on the water. If Jesus is walking on the water, what does Peter want to do? He wants to be just like his rabbi.

“Lord, if it’s really you, call me out to you on the water.”

“Come.”

And Peter does. He walks on the water. It’s an incredible story. Peter is a true disciple.

And then Peter sinks. But why does Peter sink? The answer for many of us is that Peter loses faith; he sees the wind and the waves and he loses faith. This is correct, but as Bell asks: whom does he lose faith in? Jesus?

Jesus is not sinking. Jesus is doing just fine.

Does Peter lose faith in Jesus’s ability to help him walk on water?

Or, does Peter lose faith in himself?

Jesus rescues Peter, pulls him into the boat, and then asks, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Is this actually a rabbinical scolding of Peter’s failure to accomplish his task? Or is this question of Jesus actually driving at his belief in Peter?

“Peter, if you didn’t have what it takes to walk on water, I never would have called you out. You had everything you needed to do this! I believe in you, Peter! You can do whatever I call you to do. I will never ask you to do something you cannot do.”

Listen to what Bell says in Velvet Elvis:

So at the end of his time with his disciples, Jesus has some final words for them. He tells them to go to the ends of the earth and make more disciples. And then he leaves. He promises to send his Spirit to guide them and give them power, but Jesus himself leaves the future of the movement in their hands. And he doesn’t stick around to make sure they don’t screw it up. He’s gone. He trusts that they can actually do it. 

God has an incredibly high view of people. God believes that people are capable of amazing things.

I have been told that I need to believe in Jesus. Which is a good thing. But what I am learning is that Jesus believes in me.

I have been told that I need to have faith in God. Which is a good thing. But what I am learning is that God has faith in me. 

The rabbi thinks we can be like him.

TO HAVE THE ABILITY TO GIGGLE

I often watch my children and wonder when it was that I lost faith in myself.

Now, I’m not talking about a narcissistic faith that seems to elevate my standing in God’s created order and lacks humility. I’m certainly not trying to promote some humanistic worldview that seems to assert that the answer to our ills somehow lies within us. I truly and earnestly believe the hope for all of this world’s brokenness lies in the power of the resurrected Christ and the reality of Jesus.

But I’m talking about the faith in myself that recognizes I’m made in the image of God — the kind of faith that might actually be willing to believe there must be something worth loving and worth saving if God was willing to save it through the story of the cross.

I wonder, as I watch my children, how it was that my innocence was somehow connected with my confidence. (Boy, there’s another chapter or two waiting to be written, eh?)

Jesus tells me that if I were to watch children for a little while, it would probably do me some good — that if I cannot change and become like little children, the Kingdom will be out of my reach.

One of the things that I’m noticing about children is they have incredible faith in themselves. They know Dad is there and they know Mom is there and they know they are loved and they just want to play and smile and laugh and tumble.

It seems like later on in life, we begin to question all of those things.

Is Dad really there for me? Am I really worth loving? Can I really do this?

And we try to do the things we know in our hearts we were created to do. We step out of the boat and we begin to walk, but we know the wind and the waves are out there somewhere, just waiting to sabotage our one fleeting moment of weak courage. We try and we sink.

And we’re not surprised, really, are we?

We knew it would happen just like this. There’s no way we could ever walk on water. So we grab for our life preserver and we climb back into the boat and we hold our gaze on the floor and we take the scolding we knew we had coming. O me of little faith. O me the big doubter. It’s just another failed attempt to live out what God intends for my life. When will I ever learn? I should just get used to this and stay in the boat next time; it will save me the humiliation and the pain and the failure. It’s much safer and nicer here in the boat.

Yeah. Next time, I won’t be so silly.

I picture Jesus grabbing me by the chin and jerking my head up, waiting for my gaze to meet his. And with a divine sparkle in his eye, he looks into my soul — the soul he knows intimately because he personally knit it together — and says, “You can do this.”

I go back in my mind and remember my daughter on that slope.

Twenty times. Thirty times.

Ten minutes later, we have finally traversed the twelve feet that leads to the top of the slope. And she laughs and she giggles and she prances and waddles along the now-level ground and she is thrilled to be at the top and to run and play with ease.

Of course, she was happy to be at the bottom of the slope, too.

I’ve come to a new realization: I want to learn how to giggle.

Now, I would never suggest we trivialize sin for even a moment. I’m not saying that failure is somehow okay and God doesn’t care about our success. I am not one of the Jesus followers who seems to whip God’s grace around like it’s a “Get Out of Jail Free” card from the Monopoly game of real life. In fact, I’ve noticed it’s the very fact that I take my sin so seriously that I end up being incapacitated.

But there’s something here I’m supposed to learn about my daughter.

There’s something about that slope in the park that’s bringing me closer to the Kingdom of Heaven.

I’m tired of being immobilized by my failures. I’m tired of being the guy who knows there’s no way he can pull this off. I’m tired of having a laundry list of excuses. I’m tired of letting this stinking slope get the better of me. I’m tired of wondering whether or not my Father is there for me. I’m tired of trying to decide if I’m really worth being loved. I’m tired of worrying about what the world wants from me and expects from me and thinks of me and says about me.

And I can’t just snap my fingers and make the slope go away. My problems and my hiccups and my sins are things I’m going to have to deal with. I’m going to have to get over the problems that seem to keep me down. The Spirit of God is trying to complete the work within me that He started a long time ago. I have some falling to do, and I have plenty of getting up to do. And I have a salvation that needs to be “worked out with fear and trembling” and it’s going to take some effort.

But I wonder if God would rather sit in a boat and say, “You of little faith…”

Or if He’d rather sit on a park bench and watch His children learn how to walk. I wonder if He could actually sit back and enjoy Himself if we could learn how to fall and get up and fall and get up and keep believing and keep getting back up and keep refusing to give up because we’re going to make it up this slope and we’re just so glad to be with Dad and to be loved and to know that we’re okay.

I know that I love to watch my daughter learn new things and not be stopped by her failures.

I love to watch her giggle.

I want to learn how to giggle.