“A quiet conscience makes one strong!”
― Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl
ISAIAH 19-21
JOURNAL
PSALM 37:7
“A quiet conscience makes one strong!”
― Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl
ISAIAH 19-21
JOURNAL
If you've got pain
He's a pain taker
If you feel lost
He's a way maker
If you need freedom or saving
He's a prison-shaking Savior
If you've got chains
He's a chain breaker
Zach Williams - Chain Breaker Lyrics | MetroLyrics
ISAIAH 16-18
The power that we possess in Christ is the equivalent of what raised Jesus from the dead...what? How can that be? This is what Ephesians says...this is scripture and it is not taken out of context. This is the word Paul sent to the Ephesians. This is the power that opened his eyes to all that Jesus is...this is the power that performed miracles and saved lives. This is the power that lives within us. What then am I to fear? What am I to shrink back from? Why would I ever doubt the path he leads me down...he can take all the pain, plow the way, open the prison and break all the chains. Do I believe it? That is the question....JOURNAL
“What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on account of the position and work, but on account of the word and faith from which the obedience and work flow.”
― Martin Luther
ISAIAH 13-15
Thinking through this whole concept of carrying each other's burdens. I think of how one of the greatest joys in life is knowing that you are not alone...that someone understands...that someone connects with how you feel and is willing to sit with you in those times and places when you feel lost and alone.JOURNAL
“Spirituality is not to be learned by flight from the world, or by running away from things, or by turning solitary and going apart from the world. Rather, we must learn an inner solitude wherever or with whomsoever we may be. We must learn to penetrate things and find God there.”
― Meister Eckhart
ISAIAH 10-12
JOURNAL
Yesterday I went fishing, and at one point I stopped, found a place in the water, and simply sat down. I had my waders on, so I was perfectly comfortable sitting there among the rocks, listening to the water rush around me and spill over stones that had been there for millions of years. I wasn't trying to catch anything. I wasn't trying to accomplish anything. I wasn't thinking about what needed to happen next. I just sat there and absorbed it. The water, the rocks, the trees, the sound, the cool air, and the incredible beauty of a place that had been slowly carved into existence long before I ever arrived.
Eckhart's words make more sense to me after a moment like that. Finding God doesn't require escaping life. In fact, maybe it is exactly the opposite. It is learning to become present enough to penetrate the ordinary things of life and discover God already there. Yesterday God was there in the water moving across those ancient rocks. He was there in the quiet. He was there in my ability to see it, hear it, and experience it. I didn't have to manufacture some spiritual experience. I simply had to stop long enough to recognize the sacredness of what was already happening.
There is something beautiful about Isaiah writing, “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” Sitting in that water yesterday, I realized again that so much of my life is determined by what I am drawing from. My mind, emotions, and habits have been shaped by years of experiences, fears, successes, failures, wounds, ambitions, and expectations. If I continually draw from those things alone, then they will determine how I experience the world. But God's Spirit gives me another place from which to draw. I can pause. I can become quiet. I can recognize that my first thought isn't necessarily truth, my first emotion doesn't have to control my next action, and my circumstances don't get to determine the condition of my spirit.
Maybe that is what it means to “keep in step with the Spirit.” It isn't escaping the world. It is learning to walk through the world differently. It is being able to stand in the middle of pressure, disappointment, conflict, responsibility, uncertainty, and even fear while drawing from something deeper. Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. These aren't the fruits of a life where everything goes my way. They are the fruits of a life increasingly in tune with God.
Yesterday the water was constantly moving, but the rocks remained. Water had rushed over them through countless storms, floods, droughts, winters, and summers. The conditions surrounding them were always changing, yet there they were. It reminded me of the image I keep returning to of the blue sky behind the storm. Clouds come and go. Wind comes and goes. Rain comes and goes. But beyond all of it, the blue sky remains. My emotions are weather. My circumstances are weather. Fear is weather. Success and failure are weather. None of them are permanent. God is the constant.
The goal, then, isn't to arrange my life so that there are never storms. It is to become so in tune with God that I can experience His peace in the middle of them. To sit in the moving water and recognize what remains. To stop fighting every current and realize that beneath all the movement there is something solid.
Yesterday I went fishing. But for a few minutes, sitting quietly in that water, I think I understood a little more clearly what I am actually seeking. I don't want to escape the world to find God. I want to become so present, so surrendered, and so in tune with Him that I find Him everywhere. And then carry that presence with me when I get out of the water and go back into the world.
“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven..”
― John Milton, Paradise Lost
ISAIAH 7-9
The first time I read those words from Milton I was in college. It made a definite impact on me as I realized the truth and how I could see this play out in my own life. I have one life to live. I have today, how do I live it? What do I want to make most important? Do I live as a slave or as a free child of God?JOURNAL
“Because here’s something that’s weird but true: we don’t actually know what a positive or negative experience is. Some of the most difficult and stressful moments of our lives also end up being the most formative and motivating. Some of the best and most gratifying experiences of our lives are also the most distracting and demotivating. Don’t trust your conception of positive/negative experiences. All that we know for certain is what hurts in the moment and what doesn’t. And that’s not worth much.”
ISAIAH 4-6
JOURNAL
One of the unexpected gifts of teaching and coaching seventh graders is that I get a front row seat to human nature before we have learned how to disguise it very well. I see every variety of self-sabotage, dishonesty, manipulation, excuse-making, blame-shifting, and avoidance. I watch kids make a bad decision and then compound it with three more bad decisions trying to escape the consequences of the first one. Sometimes the lie is so unnecessary that it almost makes me laugh. Other times it makes me incredibly angry.
But I am beginning to realize that what often makes me the angriest is not how different their behavior is from mine. It is how familiar it is. They are a mirror.
I recognize the kid who lies because the truth might cost him something. I recognize the kid who manipulates a situation to protect the image he wants other people to have of him. I recognize the kid who sabotages something good because failure on his own terms somehow feels safer than risking failure after giving everything he has. I recognize the kid who blames somebody else because accepting responsibility would require admitting something painful about himself. I recognize these things because, in different forms and with far more sophisticated explanations, I have done them too. Some belong to my past. Some, if I am willing to look closely enough, still belong to my present.
Every day I am surrounded by mirrors. And the mirror is not always comfortable. It shows me how hurtful some of my own actions have been. It shows me that manipulation does not have to be malicious to hurt someone. Dishonesty does not have to be elaborate to damage trust. Self-sabotage does not only affect the person doing it. The people who love us get caught in the wreckage. Perhaps most painfully, I can see how unnecessary so much of it has been. So many lies told to avoid consequences that would have passed. So much manipulation used to control outcomes that never needed controlling. So many relationships strained because fear convinced me that honesty, vulnerability, and surrender were more dangerous than deception.
Maybe this is part of what it means to become more in tune with God. I stop looking at the behavior of another person merely as something to condemn and begin asking what it reveals in me. The seventh grader standing in front of me may need correction, but perhaps God is correcting me at the same time. “Blessed is the one whom God corrects; so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.” Correction becomes grace when I am willing to receive it.
That also changes how I see these kids. Their worst decisions are not necessarily declarations of who they will become. I know that because mine weren't. The selfish, dishonest, frightened, manipulative parts of my story did not have to be the final chapters. God has continued to expose them, discipline them, forgive them, and transform them. If that grace has been extended to me, then I should be capable of extending it to the seventh grader standing in front of me.
Perhaps that is why some of life's most uncomfortable experiences eventually become gifts. The mirror hurts, but I need the mirror. It reveals what is still out of tune. And rather than becoming angry at the reflection, I can allow God to use it. I can correct the kid while also allowing God to correct the coach. I can teach honesty while becoming more honest. I can confront manipulation while surrendering my own need to control. I can challenge self-sabotage while recognizing the places where fear still causes me to sabotage myself.
Maybe one of the greatest privileges of teaching and coaching these kids is that while I am helping them become who they were created to be, God is using them to do the same thing in me.
“Decision-making based on emotional intuition, without the aid of reason to keep it in line, pretty much always sucks. You know who bases their entire lives on their emotions? Three-year-old kids. And dogs. You know what else three-year-olds and dogs do? Shit on the carpet.”
JOURNAL
A musical instrument does not become beautiful because the music is easy. In fact, the most demanding music often reveals what the instrument is capable of producing. But before any of that matters, the instrument must be in tune. An instrument that is out of tune cannot reveal its full beauty no matter how skillfully it is played. The problem is not the difficulty of the music. The problem is that the instrument is not properly aligned.
Maybe the same is true of me. When I am out of tune with God, I begin trying to control circumstances, avoid discomfort, manage outcomes, and follow whatever emotion happens to be loudest. Fear, frustration, pride, anxiety, and desire start determining how I respond. Mark Manson's point about emotions is important because emotions are real, but they were never intended to be the sole authority directing my life. I need something greater by which to tune them.
Paul writes, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." That changes the objective. Surrender is not losing myself. It is allowing God to tune me toward the person He created me to become. His Word, prayer, quiet, obedience, and the Spirit continually bring me back into alignment. They allow me to recognize when fear, emotion, ego, or habit has pulled me out of tune. Isaiah says, "Learn to do right; seek justice." Learning implies practice. Tuning is not something done once. An instrument must continually be brought back into tune, and so must I. That is why coming before God each morning matters. It is not simply a religious routine. It is recalibration. I am reminding myself who God is, who I am, what matters, and how I want to enter the day.
Perhaps the narrow road Jesus describes is not a life without difficulty at all. It is a life increasingly aligned with God in the middle of difficulty. I don't need every problem removed. I need the power, love, and self-discipline to meet the problem in front of me well. The hard things may even become the music through which God reveals what He has placed within me. So the question is not, "How can I make today easier?" It is, "Father, how can I become more in tune with You today?" Because when I am in tune with God, I can more fully become what He designed me to be and engage the life He has given me in a way that is good, beautiful, courageous, and life-giving.
Thank you, Father, for Your Word, Your Spirit, and another day. Tune my heart toward You. Let me stop asking You to remove every difficult note and instead surrender myself to Your hands so that my life can become the music You created it to make.
“A disciplined mind leads to happiness, and an undisciplined mind leads to suffering.”
― Dalai Lama XIV, The Art of Happiness
SONG OF SOLOMON 6-8
JOURNAL
Teaching seventh graders has a way of holding up a mirror. I can watch a student become frustrated, embarrassed, bored, excited, or angry and then immediately act out whatever he is feeling. From the outside, it is easy to call it a lack of self-control. But the more I watch them, the more I recognize myself. I may be better at disguising it, but I often do the same thing. I feel something and immediately believe I need to respond to it. Anxiety says worry, so I worry. Restlessness says move, so I move. Frustration says react, so I react. Fear says avoid, so I avoid. The emotion becomes the command, and I become its servant.
Even as I sit here writing this, I can feel the urge to get up and walk around. There is an energy telling me to move on to something else. But I don't have to obey it. I can notice it, allow it to be there, and continue typing. That seems incredibly small, but perhaps this is exactly where discipline begins. I used to think discipline meant fighting my emotions, suppressing them, or somehow making myself stop feeling them. I am beginning to understand that real discipline may be something very different. I can experience an emotion without becoming the emotion. I can feel fear without being controlled by fear, anger without reacting in anger, anxiety without chasing every anxious thought, and an impulse without obeying it. There is tremendous freedom in realizing that.
Maybe this is part of what Paul is getting at when he asks, "Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?" Something is always asking for my obedience. Other people's opinions, my emotions, my fears, my appetites, my desire for comfort, or God. Discipline is deciding which voice gets authority. That also changes the way I think about the discipline I am trying to teach my students and players. Discipline isn't simply behaving correctly when a teacher or coach is watching. It is developing the ability to create space between what I feel and what I do. It is learning that discomfort does not require escape, anger does not require reaction, fear does not require retreat, and desire does not require satisfaction.
Perhaps that is where real confidence comes from. Not from believing I will always feel strong, peaceful, or motivated, but from knowing that whatever I feel does not have to determine what I do. A disciplined mind isn't a mind without emotion. It is a mind capable of experiencing emotion, listening to it, learning from it, and then choosing its response. My emotions can inform me, but they do not have to command me. God has given me the ability to choose what I serve, where I place my attention, and what I do next. That is freedom, and I am beginning to believe that kind of freedom is at the heart of discipline.