Was this my idea
There is a Christian music song that has the lyric “complexity haunts me for I am two men.” It seems to me today that all of us have a little bit of that in us, whether we will admit it or not.
One of my kids had a social media post over the weekend that really made me stop and think. It was an excerpt from a book by American author Glennon Doyle. It posed questions on individuality, and sent me into a deep introspective of my own life. It said, “I looked hard at my faith, my friendships, my work, my sexuality, my entire life and asked: How much of this was my idea.”
Now, Glennon Doyle is a best-selling author and the founder of a non-profit that helps more people that I could ever imagine. So, despite the fact that I may not agree with her on everything, there is no doubt that she is a great writer, and humanitarian, and how can you not laud those characteristics.
The little excerpt really made me think. I reread it about 10 times as I lay in bed last night, looking for peace, and sleep, with neither coming.
How much of what we do in life really is our idea? We get up and go to work because we have bills to pay, and we pay our bills because we live in a society where it is almost required to have “things.” We practice our faiths a certain way, we conduct our business a certain way, and we conduct our lives a certain way because that is how we are told we are supposed to. But, are we really?
I don’t know about any of you, but it so often seems that my life is on a never-ending hamster wheel. A wheel that I can’t seem to get off of, and one that keeps my head spinning. It makes me often think, “Is this what I am really supposed to be doing” or maybe “Is there anything else?”
I can’t ever seem to come up with the answers to those questions, can you? If you can, why don’t you give me a call and give me some instructions on how you pulled that off.
In a few days, it will be September 13. September 13 will be a Sunday this year, and most all of you will be in church, or watching a service online. Most Sundays, that is what I do as well. But not on Sunday, September 13.
September 13 is the second anniversary of the day my wife left this place and went on to a better place. For her, it will be another happy day in Heaven. For me, it will be a dark, desolate day where I will question my existence. I will question why I am still here, and she is not. I will cry, I will be angry, and I will not be a person that many will want to be around.
Yet, I know some of the answers to those questions. I know the reasons for my existence. The reasons come in the faces of my children. Each one of them are the reasons why I am still here. Despite their insistence that they are “grown ups” now, they still need their daddy. The reasons come in the cherubic faces of my grandchildren. I only need to look into the face of Chunk or his newborn baby sister Charlotte Jean, and I see my reasons for being here.
For so long my kids have had the notion that my work came first. That being here in this office doing what I do was of a greater importance to me than them. There have been times when I gave them reason for this thinking. I have put my health at risk, to ply my trade. So, sometimes they were right.
I wonder how many of you do the same?
So, these days, I ask myself today, how much of this was my idea? Maybe you should too. Is what we do on a daily basis really what we want to be doing, or is it programmed into us by society. Are we lemmings just plodding along waiting to go over the cliff? Think about it, the way I am today.
Almost always here at the end of column, I will offer a scripture or some other gleaning from the life of Christ, as an encouragement for us all. Today I wonder, has that practice been programmed into me by years of “Christian service” and “doing the right thing.”
So, I offer you this. Look inside yourself, and simply ask the question…How much of this was my idea.