Mark Johnston

Fall off the Ball

A month ago, my doctor gave me a wake-up call.  Apparently, I haven’t escaped the family predisposition toward high cholesterol.  Really high cholesterol.  So he sent me off with a prescription and stern instructions that changes would have to be made.

I haven’t had a dessert, croissant, or white bread since then. (Given my previous carb addiction, this is tantamount to saying I haven’t had a meal.)  And I’m frequenting the gym as well.

Last week I was perched precariously on an exercise ball there doing crunches when I became aware of something.  Bending up into the crunch went fine, but on my way back down each time I had this fleeting second of paranoia.  A little voice in my head whispering the same thing over and over:

“Don’t fall off the ball.”

Have you heard that little voice?

There are, after all, people around.  They’re in better shape than you.  The best thing you can do is stay thoroughly inconspicuous.  That means not falling off the ball.

(The problem is I’ll never get Vin Diesel’s abs that way.  Cautiousness doesn’t translate into an effective workout.)

Then it struck me, sitting there: maybe the best thing that could happen for many of us is to fall off the ball.  We used to fall off the ball all the time, remember?  It was called “childhood.”  We took risks.  We were more in touch with our faith than our fear.  Yes, we walked away with some scraped knees – maybe even a broken bone or two.  But would you trade it?  When we tell stories about being kids, it’s falling off the ball/bike/table/roof that’s most riveting.  Curiously absent are the tales of times we shrank back, listened to our fears, and failed to risk big.

If what you’re going to do today is the right thing, maybe you should do it so hard, so fearlessly, so all in that you risk falling off the ball.  Maybe you’ll never get where you want to go practicing caution instead of courage.  Maybe it’s been so long since you “failed” that you’ve grossly exaggerated what falling off the ball will cost – and entirely underemphasized the price you’re paying to avoid it.

Maybe you should knock on your boss’ door today and say, “I know it’s a difficult economy, but I think I have more to offer.  How can I take the next step?”

Maybe you should read the Bible to your kids tonight even if you’re terribly insecure about your own understanding of it.

Maybe you should hire that person you can’t stop picturing on your team.  Or fire the one dragging everyone else down.

Maybe you should take your wife to dinner and tell her you’re sorry you’ve been a jerk lately and you’re going to do better.

What’s the worst that could happen?  You could fall off the ball.  Which will mean… you’ll just have to get back on.

The downsides aren’t as bad as you think.  Take the risk.  Vin Diesel’s abs await.

Oh Yeah, I Know Him

My planning retreat ends today.  Each year, I spend a few days away alone recalibrating and planning for the year to come.  One of the things I work on is my life mission, which starts with knowing God.

What does that mean, exactly – to know God? 

I used to think it meant living a moral life.  In the Bible, our connection to God is repeatedly described as a marriage.  If we think in these terms, living a moral life is like a wedding ring.  It’s a symbol of our devotion; a tangible reminder of who (and whose) we are.  It’s a visible deterrent to would-be lovers who might otherwise seek our attention.  It testifies to our commitment.

But living a moral life isn’t the extent of knowing God any more than wearing a wedding ring is the extent of being married.  It’s a sign, but not the substance.

At times I’ve assumed that knowing God meant feeling spiritual.  Spiritual feelings are like the best moments of a marriage: flashes of physical intimacy and romantic euphoria.  They’re powerful installments of togetherness.

But anyone who’s been married any length of time knows these moments are more exception than rule.  In the same way, spiritual feelings aren’t the same as knowing God.  They’re a spark, but not the substance.

Finally, for a while I imagined knowing God meant accumulating knowledge.  Certainly the more I’ve learned about the person I’m married to, the closer we’ve become.  More of her life data is always emerging, like puzzle pieces that when placed together reveal her character more clearly.

But there’s a difference between knowing a great deal about someone and knowing them.  Accumulating knowledge isn’t the same as knowing God.  It’s a step, but not the substance.

Knowing God includes all of these things but is limited to none of them.  It isn’t anything that can be captured in a single term or phrase.  It’s a blend of purity and passion, a headlong rush into moments of mystery and a deep contentment with stretches of monotony. 

Like marriage, knowing God is learning more every day while being at peace with what one still does not know.  It’s sacrificing and experiencing and growing; it’s failing and rebelling and forgetting.  It’s all of this in the safety of a relationship you both know will still be intact tomorrow, whatever comes.

Do you know God?  Or have you settled for living a moral life?

Do you know God?  Or are you just caught up with spiritual feelings?

Do you know God?  Or are you satisfied with merely accumulating knowledge?

There’s no simple step of practical application.  I just want to stir you to settle for nothing less than really knowing him.

By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him… (II Peter 1:3 – NLT).

Please Pray for Me

Have you thought about how much you know about other people’s lives lately?  It’s a side effect of the explosion of social media.  Sally’s kid is having his tonsils removed.  Henry’s company laid him off.  Francesca has had a terrible week at work.  (I’ve always wanted to use the name “Francesca” in an illustration.)

The crazy thing is you found this all out during 60 seconds of scrolling Facebook or the look you snuck at Twitter during a boring meeting.  It can be a bit overwhelming.  And what can be even more overwhelming is that some of these updates are cries for help – more than just random information, but petitions for your sympathy and prayer.

What’s a follower of Jesus supposed to do?  Since the scriptures call us pointedly to pray for each other, simply ignoring all the needs that flash across our screens and hearts is not an option.  So how should we respond?  Here are some of my thoughts:

1. Don’t pray for everyone.  You’re not responsible to take on every need, because you’re not the Messiah.  Trying to pray for everyone is like trying to be best friends with everyone: it gets superficial in a hurry.

 

1. Pray for someone.  The reverse is true as well.  In fact, not praying long, drawn-out prayers for everyone’s needs should free us up to pray for someone’s needs.  Choose a few and focus in with laser-beam precision.  Make those prayers count.  Ask for specific direction and results.  And offer yourself to God to help in any other way you can.

 

1. Pray for someone you like.  If you’re struggling to decide who to pray for, gravitate toward someone you naturally care about.  Life moves at the speed of relationship, and prayer is best when it’s combined with a connection we already have with another person.  Don’t be afraid to prioritize and pray for your friends.

 

1. Pray for someone you don’t like.  Praying for people we already value and appreciate strengthens our connection with them.  Praying for people we don’t particularly value or appreciate develops our character.  It isn’t just people’s needs that litter Facebook and Twitter: there’s plenty of bragging there as well.  And some of it is probably coming from someone you can’t stand, are jealous of, or are tired of hearing about.  You’ll be startled by what God does in you when you pray for them.

The next time you’re checking in on social media remember that knowing some small thing about someone’s life may be all the empowerment you need to pray for them.  You don’t have to pray for everyone, but each of us should make praying for someone part of our spiritual development.  Start with someone you like; graduate to someone you don’t.  And you’ll grow.