Donald Miller's Blog, page 25

A Way Out Of Worry And Anxiety

Back in 2014, the company I founded, These Numbers Have Faces, went through a major stage of great growth. And while growth is something we all wish for with companies, I found the maintenance of it all really challenging.

For months I was waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. I thought my anxiety was taken care of in my life, but there it was, roaring back—all the while, hundreds of talented students were waiting patiently to join our programs in Africa.

To top it off, my wife and I were expecting our first child in only a few weeks time. We were thrilled of course, but the future was also downright scary.

We were feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Worry, fear, dread, regret. You’ve been there. We all have.

Like many of us do in times of trial, I rushed back to the foundations of my faith, praying in earnest for rest, peace, and spiritual renewal.

Photo Credit: Joe St.Pierre, Creative Commons

That’s when I stumbled upon the following 136 words that changed it all. 136 words that gave me the first leg up off of rock bottom. 136 words that, for the first time in a long time, quelled the battery acid of worry in my gut:

I am leading you step by step through your life. Hold My hand in trusting dependence, letting me guide you through this day.

Your future looks uncertain and feels flimsy, even precarious. That is how it should be. Secret things belong to the Lord, and future things are secret things.

When you try to figure out the future, you are grasping at the things that are Mine.

This, like all forms of worry, is an act of rebellion: doubting My promises to care for you.

Whenever you find yourself worrying about the future, repent and return to Me. I will show you the next step forward, and the one after that, and the one after that. Relax and enjoy the journey in My Presence, trusting Me to open up the way before you as you go.”

– Sarah Young, Jesus Calling

Did you catch that?

Your future is uncertain. This is how it is meant to be.
Secret things belong to the Lord, and future things are secret things.
Your worry is an act of rebellion.

Whew.

In my top office drawer I have a green folder that holds some of my most prized documents. They aren’t awards, certificates, or photographs; they are clippings of prayers and quotes like the one above. I’ve got some Henry Nouwen, a hearty dose of Dr. King, some CS Lewis, and a pinch of Thomas Merton.

These brief reflections, handwritten or printed from my office computer, act as anchors of hope in times of uncertainty.

Over the last few months, my little folder has grown and grown.

What has saved me during times of worry and anxiety has been the repetition of opening this folder every morning to read and reread its contents.

I set aside 20 minutes a day and let these familiar words pour over me. The same words from the same people, over and over. This repetition, this act of obedience, has become the foundation of my day. Miraculously, it has brought peace.

Are you going through hell right now?

Build your green folder. Allow it to become your spiritual and emotional survival kit.

It’s not out of the norm to keep a first aid kit in your car or a few gallons of water in your basement for an emergency.

We should follow the same guidelines for our souls.

In your times of mental clarity and hopefulness, place the quotes, phrases, verses, prayers, and letters of encouragement you know you will need in times of disbelief and despair.

You’ll be surprised at the way this habit will guide you into the future.

Aventures In Staying: What to Do With A Life That Stays the Same

A year ago my husband and I sat next to each other at a lawyer’s office to face a mountain of paperwork.

Photo Credit: Darren Johnson, Creative Commons

We were buying our first home and felt like two kids wearing our parents’ clothes, fishing our hands out of sleeves that seemed too long to sign our lives away for the next thirty years. 

We both changed addresses many times as kids.

I grew up a military kid of divorced parents and he grew up a pastor’s son. The calling to serve sent our parents packing and unpacking several times in our childhood.

I cried over friendships lost, over school years that must be interrupted to face a new city. 

I attended eight different schools between kindergarten and senior year of high school. I spent most years dividing my time between summers with my dad, stepmother, sister and two brothers in one state, and the school year with my mom and sister in another.

I’ve lived at seventeen different addresses in my life.

I’m prepared to pack luggage for any length of trip. I have mastered the art of travel size. I learned how to make friends anywhere and how to find something in common with almost anyone I meet. I took my first flight at 4 years old.

I lived on the west coast, in the south, the Midwest and Texas.

I don’t begrudge my childhood.

I am thankful for the experience of having lived in different places, sat at different tables, learned to make friends no matter what our class, culture or skin color.

This seemingly vagabond life prepared me for what I’m doing today: traveling, speaking, listening, performing, meeting new people from all walks of life and beliefs. 

We have walked alongside many of our friends as faith and calling has led them to cross seas, sell possessions, uproot comfortability, serve in areas that are underserved, and immerse themselves in a culture very different from their own. 

And yet this season has called us to stay.

As we have unpacked and settled in, the house has brought us new focus. God is calling us to a new kind of adventure, a journey of finding and keeping home.

As traveling artists, my husband and I will find ourselves in many hotel rooms, churches, venues, and tour buses, so we’ve learned to make home wherever we are.

But God has also given two people who are well acquainted with boxes, moving trucks and luggage, a place to unpack, breathe, rest, get to know our neighbors, serve our city and be a part of the art, creativity and community that is being built here. 

I don’t long for a far away adventure—

although if one comes along I’m happy to pack a bag and embrace the journey. I’m learning there are many times in life that God will call us to leave.

But there are also times God will call us to stay.

The lesson isn’t just in the staying or the leaving. The lesson is in continuing to follow the God who calls, whether it means we pack what little we have in a bag for a new address, or whether it means we unpack our life, put things in their respective drawers and cabinets, and make ourselves at home.

What Makes A Human Life Worth It?

One of the scariest questions we have to ask ourselves is how do we treat people who can do nothing for us? I think more than ever, especially in a world of social media and talk of leveraging “platform”, this is something we have to face up with.

Photo Credit: Joe St.Pierre, Creative Commons

Do we only talk to people or pursue relationships that can further our lives, agendas, and dreams? Or do we see that the very thing we should be “furthering” is our love towards other humans regardless of their status?

This problem isn’t old, it’s just with the internet it looks a little different.

One of the worst things a human can do, and something we’ve been doing since the beginning, is to take another human and turn them into a commodity—making them no different than bread, clothes, or our car.

We extort, stretch, and abuse developing countries for their resources, and we give nothing but a few bucks in exchange. It’s all about being the most efficient for the least amount of dollars.

Everything has to have a return on its investment. It’s all about the bottom line.

And that way of living has bled into our relationships.

In Exodus we see that Pharaoh demanded a certain quota for bricks from the Israelites. They were simply things to be used to squeeze out as much as he could in order to get a better return on his investment. But, it’s no coincidence that when God rescues them from Egypt He immediately institutes multiple things that directly show them He is not like that “god” Pharaoh back there in there past.

This is why the Torah was so scandalous.

When God calls the Israelites out of Egypt, he turns their perceived identity as commodities (you are only as good as what you do) to their true garden-given identity as image-bearers (you are good because you just are). God gave Israel a lot of the laws in the wilderness to turn their worldview upside down and say no.

People are neighbors to be loved, not commodities to be used.

This God was a God of love, not extortion.

People were neighbors to be loved, not commodities to be used. One thing is clear is that we are never more human than when we are holding up the dignity and worth and value of another human being as our fellow image bearer.

But this cuts against the grain in the same way it did during the time of Exodus. The Law given to Israel was a revolutionary document.

At that time most others used, abused, and extorted each other, but the Law said to love your neighbor as yourself.

Others said never stop working, yet the Law commanded Israel to rest, enjoy food and family.

Others said watch out for yourself, when the Law specifically put the commandment to give a chunk of your crops to the poor or the alien among you.

The question is, which side do we most line up with in our lives?

I know too often I’ve seen business leaders who claim to be followers of Jesus yet stretch their employees to the point of burn out.

If we are going to be people of resurrection then sometimes our business practices will be deemed “wasteful” by outsiders because we would rather someone feel whole, then to break them for the bottom line.

Sometimes this means saying no to a “better opportunity” because love stays.

Sometimes this means using our platform to elevate others, not using ours to get a bigger one.

A Quick Way to Make Sure People Talk Kindly About You

The other day an acquaintance of mine needed a ride somewhere. We were both leaving a coffee shop and it made sense for me to take him where he was going.

But truthfully, I didn’t want to.

I had some writing to do and it felt like my day was getting away from me.

The old me would have given him a ride but not been happy about it.

And likely the fact I wasn’t happy would have shown. The acquaintance would have thought I was a jerk, or at best distracted, and likely wouldn’t have had many nice things to say about me behind my back.

Photo Credit: AfroDad, Creative Commons

But then I remembered an important thing I learned from studying stories:

Characters who “save the cat” are more beloved by an audience of movie-goers.

In movies, characters have to “save a cat” to endear themselves to the audience.

What that means is they have to do something nice. If a storyteller wants us to like a character, the character, early in the movie or book has to call his mother or help a lady across the street or, well, save a cat.

The reason this is true in story is because it’s true in life.

We don’t just like people who win or are good looking or are smart or all the things our culture holds up as successful. We like people who say nice things to us or do nice things for us.

Those are the people who we talk kindly about behind their backs.

The whole thing reminds me of that truth Malcolm Gladwell shared in one of his essays.

He studied doctors who had been sued for malpractice by their patients and found out that doctors who make the most mistakes aren’t necessarily the doctors who get sued the most. The doctors who get sued the most are the ones who made their patients feel neglected or not cared about.

In fact, if a doctor simply spends an extra minute sitting with his patient catching up a bit, he is far less likely to be sued.

That’s all it takes—an extra minute.

Here’s how this translates into our lives:

Regardless of who we’re talking to, taking an extra few seconds to make chit chat and to genuinely be interested in people’s lives is our real-life way of saving the cat.

We endear ourselves to people very quickly and it doesn’t take much.

When I gave this new acquaintance a ride, instead of being frustrated and dropping him off, I asked a few questions and then when we got to where he was going we sat and talked another minute in the car.

Then, because I actually liked the guy after getting to know him, I got out of the car to shake his hand and say goodbye. It cost me hardly any more time and my guess is the guy probably thought I was a pretty decent person. Easy.

Anyway, lesson learned. I’d never create a lead character in a story who doesn’t save the cat, so why would I want to be a character in my own story without doing the same?

Five Articles I Sent My Staff This Week

As a staff, we are committed to learning and growing, both professionally and personally. One of the ways we do that is by reading. Below are some of the most current things we’re reading together.

If you’re in need of something great to read this weekend, start here.

12 Things Successful People Never Tolerate

via Lolly Daskal

This could easily be a list of things we don’t allow in our office. Complaining. Negativity. Control. An accurate picture of leadership and a good reminder for us all.

How Managing Your Emotions Can Help You Get Ahead

via Lewis Howse

In this podcast interview, Lewis and Tom talk about having a clear value system, the importance of wanting something and how getting control of your emotions can help you get ahead.

5 Keys to Change Your Company Culture From The Inside Out

via Marie Forleo

I happen to think we have a great company culture, but what I loved about this post was the focus on every person in a company being a leader. This is a perspective I want my entire staff to have.

What Small Businesses Can Do Better Than Corporate America

via Fortune Magazine

It’s easy to wish our company could be bigger or have more resources. But advantages do we have because we’re a small company? It was great to read those advantages in this article.

Why Creativity is A Process, Not An Event

via James Clear

I so appreciate the perspective that creativity does not happen in a single moment but evolves over time. If more of us took this approach to creativity, we’d see more creative production in the world.

An Encouragement for Those Who Are Really Bad At Change

If I had to catalog the things I really don’t enjoy, “change” of any kind and/or degree, would always make the short list.

Photo Credit: wondersofsam, Creative Commons

I started thinking about the big changes I remember in my life and it’s comical how similar my memories of these moments are, in that they pretty much all involve tears. In everything from crying in the driveway with a best friend before I left for college to biting my lip standing in our new kitchen last year when my husband and I moved (to a house on the same block of the same street, mind you)—

Change is not my forte.

Because I’ve always had a hard time with it, I have often treated my aversion to change like something I needed to conquer, to overcome completely so I could be one of those adventurous, brave, awesome people who just can’t wait for all the new experiences.

It felt wrong for it to be momentarily heart-wrenching to enter new seasons—not ones brought on by something traumatic or devastating, but the good, natural, inevitable shifts that move us through life and help us grow—transitions it seems many people take right in stride as exhilarating and fun.

In what was the changey-est season of my life to date—

I had just graduated college, and was about to get married and move to a new state all in the span of about a month. (Today, our party line about this quick succession of major life events is, “Whooo whee! It didn’t seem as crazy to us then as it does now!” Alternate: “Who let us do that?!”)

I remember one afternoon during the weeks anticipating all those big tick marks on life’s timeline when I began to let myself off the hook a little bit on the not-good-at-change thing.

For the first time, it dawned on me that it was ok to admit that transition can be bittersweet.

Even when we’re going from good thing to good thing—

it’s all right for the closing of one chapter to elicit a little sadness. In fact, in a way that seems backwards at first—that sadness itself can be a way of being thankful for something that was sweet and meaningful enough to merit being a smidge sad over.

The last night with the college roommates and the final ride in the first car (still mourning my ’93 Ford Explorer) don’t have to be events we skim over as we fast-forward to what’s next, but instead can be moments whose very celebration might involve a couple of tears.

Those bittersweet moments can be a celebration of their own, in a way.

I have this urge to scoot all the hard and challenging parts of life over into one corner, nice and neat, and keep the fun and easy and perfectly pleasant parts in another.

Unfortunately, real experience hardly ever stays in the corners and categories I make for it.

Part of what makes change daunting is forgetting that good changes can come mixed up with sadness, and still be good changes. For me, encountering change gracefully means neither magically making myself ecstatic-only, nor getting bogged down in glory-days-nostalgia.

Instead, it means going ahead and owning the bittersweet-ness up front—celebrating what’s before me because I’ve nodded to the best parts of what brought me there.

By learning to look transition right in the eye, and see the value of the season that’s going at the same time that I anticipate the good that is to come, I’ve gotten a little better at finding my footing when life moves forward.

A Word of Hope For Those In Transition

I was reading a book on a plane the other day called Change Your Trajectory by Bishop Dale C. Bronner. This isn’t the type of book I expected to make me cry, but it did.

As soon as I read this:

“Transition is a terribly uncomfortable place for you to be in your life. You will start hurting and not even understand where; you’ll think, I’ve never hurt like this before. I’ve never dealt with these kinds of problems. I’ve never been at this point in my life before.”

There is something about a writer articulating for us exactly how we feel that is just so helpful and comforting and healing. When I read that paragraph, I began to cry because I thought, “Yes, that’s why I’ve been so ‘weird’ lately because I am so freaking uncomfortable all the time!”

Now I can put a word to it.

Bronner went on to speak to my soul by explaining the difference between “change” and “transition.”

Photo Credit: Grant Harder, Creative Commons

In short, change is external whereas transition is internal. You move to a new house – that’s “change.” You have a breakdown during your first month in the new house because your miss all of your old stuff and want to go back to the things that are familiar because change is hard – that’s “transition.”

“All change requires transition;” Bronner writes, “it requires an internal adjustment that our flesh recoils from.”

I’ve experienced this recoil and I bet you have too.

I quit my job exactly a year ago, and I’m still recoiling against the change in pace and hours and workplace. I’m recoiling against the uncertainty that comes with being a freelancer and the wonderful things that come with it, too.

It’s like I’ve just been fighting through uncomfortable feelings for a year and honestly, I’m tired. I want things to feel steady and normal again, but I’m realizing that more than that, I want to learn how to weather change and transition.

Because I’m beginning to suspect that those are the constants of life.

After reading Bronner’s definition of transition, I’ve decided there are three things that are important for me, and all of us, to do during a time of change.

1. Be Aware

I remember when my parents helped me move to England for school. They were there for a week and I was a complete terror the entire time. I was moody and short-tempered and for seven days I declared that nothing was going right for me or the way I wanted it to.

I hated that I was acting this way, but I couldn’t stop myself.

It would have helped if I had been aware of the internal things caused by transition. I could have told myself while I was boarding the plane to Heathrow, “Ok, this is going to be hard. This is a big move and you may experience big emotions as a result.”

It might be helpful to make the loved ones around you aware of this too. Give them a head up on your crazy. It might prevent some potential fights.

2. Give Yourself Time to Process

I think in a time of transition, I need to be extra sure I’m giving myself time and space to process things. This could look like simply journaling or using whatever outlet you use to think about things intentionally.

Or it could look like talking to someone.

A few months into my recent transition into freelancing, I hit a wall of anxiety. I couldn’t get out of it. My thoughts turned dark and weird and I felt out of control, so I made an appointment with a counselor I had gone to a couple of years ago.

On a white board, she drew a diagram of my brain and what the brain looks like under severe times of anxiety. It was so helpful just to sit with a professional and talk things through. Some seasons in life call for extra help.

3. Be Nice to Yourself

Did you have a spontaneous breakdown in the grocery store? Have you been crying at stupid things? Did you snap at the technical support guy on the phone? Don’t beat yourself up about it. Don’t let the weight of shame press down on you. Let yourself feel what you feel and don’t “should” yourself too much.

It just adds to the pressures that change has already brought.

Transitions take time to adjust to, and they are uncomfortable. Let yourself feel uncomfortable for a while.

Here’s What I Learned When My Life Didn’t Pan Out

So you made a great life plan and watched it go up in flames?

Yeah, me too.

I’m that girl. I love plans, career counselors, conferences like Storyline, good therapists and anything else that will guide and inspire me to craft a life that’s worth living. I planned my story out, complete with dreams, goals, purpose and a sense that God had called and equipped me to start down the path.

Photo Credit: Leo Hidalgo, Creative Commons

My husband and I were in a band we loved, playing sold-out shows across the country. We had major radio success and were crossing the 100,000 mark in c.d. sales.

That’s when it all began to unravel.

Two major thefts (including our van, trailer, musical gear and merchandise), one head-on collision, one RV fire, and emergency surgery for our 11-month-old daughter all hit in under a years time. We found ourselves financially ruined and emotionally incapable of continuing down the path we were on.

The band that I had poured myself into for eleven years was forced to disband, my husband and I were on the brink of bankruptcy and I watched as my life plans burned to the ground.

Left with broken dreams and no clear direction for my future, I was 30-years-old and completely lost.

Here’s what I learned when my life plan didn’t pan out.

It’s ok to be lost.

Our culture and churches have NO idea what to do with lost people. Most wanted to fix me as quickly as possible and put me out of my misery.

My heartache was uncomfortable for them. My not knowing what came next didn’t bode well for a God who should magically fix things or for a woman who should have her life all together by now.

Unwanted job suggestions, horrible theology, and pithy sentiments of new doors opening flooded my inbox. True empathy was in short supply. I was tempted to rush into the next phase of life simply to put a bow-on-it for everyone.

“Look, see! God is good and immediately fixed it!”

What I found instead was a God who invited me into a season of lostness and provided no quick answers or magical fixes.

Living without answers and a life plan became the season where I finally found faith in a God who was with me and for me despite my not knowing what came next. God felt especially near in those lonely moments and I slowly learned to trust that he knew how to re-purpose my plans. My prayers became centered around knowing God’s presence rather than getting God’s answers.

The spiritual invitation was clear: Sit in the tension. Don’t rush this. It’s ok to be lost because lost things get found.

It’s ok to grieve the life-plan that will never be.

Not knowing what came next, I wanted to throw myself into being a stay-at-home-mom. The only problem was I didn’t know how to do anything domestic-y. I was at the grocery store on the spaghetti aisle when I realized I had spent years eating back stage in green rooms and in airports and had no idea how to cook for my family.

The spaghetti noodles taunted me and I felt like a complete failure.

Grief washed over me and I longed for life to be the way it used to be. An all out ugly cry ensued. I left my grocery cart in the middle of the aisle and ran to the car sobbing. I called my mom and she said, “Jenny, this is your invitation to grieve what was.”

And that’s the moment I was finally given permission to mourn.

We often think that grieving is an act reserved for the death of a person. But I’ve learned that grieving should extend to our dreams and life-plans as well.

I’ve heard so many people say, “I have no idea why I am so upset over this. It’s just a _____.” Fill in the blank with job, church, friendship, community group, trip, dream, goal, early miscarriage or life-plan. As if the loss of those things are not worthy of deep grief.

What a lie. A loss is a loss no matter how small.

We rob ourselves of the most basic human experience when we limit what is grieve-able and deny ourselves space to mourn life’s losses.

Grieving is ultimately the gateway to moving forward.

Before a new life-plan can take root, the old one has to be properly mourned and laid to rest. Give yourself (and others) permission to grieve.

It’s ok to dream again.

After you have watched your plans unravel you might be tempted to play it safe. Why chase dreams when there is no sense of security in their staying power?

My initial response was to play it safe and live in fear of the what-ifs. But five years later I know better. Why not chase my dreams? I’ve experienced the worst and know how to hold my plans a little more loosely now. I’ve got nothing to lose. Plus, I’ve watched as new dreams have taken root, dreams I would’ve never known to dream up five years ago.

Now I know new life comes out of lostness.

These days I’m less interested in life plans that succeed and more interested in living well no matter how the plans pan out. This leaves me free to dream big, fall hard, and trust that newness is always on the horizon.

When your life plan doesn’t go the way you thought it would, don’t dismiss the holy seasons of lostness, grieving and re-dreaming.

There is room at the table for each of these steps in the healing journey and they ultimately pave the way for new life to find its way out of the ashes.

What Being in A Music Video Taught Me About My Identity

One of the ways I worked my way through grad school was taking small acting jobs here and there. The pay wasn’t always great, but it was a unique experience and I always had fun and learned something.

One of the most profoundly divine encounters in my life happened when I was cast in a rap video.

Photo Credit: MADE ON, Creative Commons

One day I got an audition notice from my agent for the new Missy Elliot music video. The call said “WE ARE LOOKING FOR A HEAVY SET GUY WHO CAN MOVE HIS FEET FAST!!!” If there was a picture of me in the encyclopedia, that would be the description under my head shot.

I responded immediately and booked an audition.

When I arrived at stage 11 of Center Staging Dancing studios I walked into a room filled with “real” dancers. Meanwhile three guys matching the description in the notice went ahead of me into a little room.

When it came my turn, I stepped into a room where I found a casting director, a cameraman, and a Dance Dance Revolution mat hooked up to a Wii and TV. They asked me to take off my shoes and get ready to dance with the game. They hit go and I hit high gear.

I dance dance revolutioned my butt off.

I didn’t try to hit any of the steps. I just tried to keep a focused face and be funny.

The cameraman and casting director cracked up and waved to people through the window to come watch. When I was done, I noticed a small crowd gathered out the window, laughing and applauding.

I stood back for a bit while they talked things through, trying to act like I hadn’t lost my breath in the 45 seconds they had been filming.

They said they would call.

About a week later I got a call. As odd as it sounds, I was going to be in a Missy Elliot music video.

When I walked on set, security pointed me toward the assistant director. I walked toward him to introduce myself and he replied, “Ah, here’s my fat Michael Jackson.”

This caught me off guard a little, “No, I’m here for the Dance Dance Revolution scene.”

“Ya, as fat Michael Jackson” he replied. “Nobody called you to tell you to learn how to do the moonwalk?”

My mouth dropped.

At first, I thought he was joking, but quickly realized he was completely serious. He got on the radio and I heard him say, “Fat Michael Jackson is here, but he doesn’t know he’s fat Michael. That’s still the case, right?”

The response came back affirmative.

Michael Jackson? I’m supposed to be fat Michael Jackson? Evidently, the day before, a “skinny Michael” had filmed a scene and today was my day to shine.

I paced for the next hour, as the crew called things over the radio like, “Did Fat Michael Jackson get his wardrobe yet?”

“When do we need Fat Michael Jackson on set?”

Around 6:00 I heard over the radio, “Please put Fat Michael Jackson in his outfit so Missy can approve.” That was my cue to head to wardrobe. I was placed in some highwater black pants, black shoes, and custom socks made from silver star glitter glued on to knee-high socks wrapped in plastic wrap to keep the glitter from falling while I danced.

The wardrobe guy handed me a white T-shirt that was size medium.

“I’m sorry.” I said. “This isn’t going to fit me.”

“It’s not supposed to,” came his reply. “They want your belly fat hanging out. Go ahead and put it on and pull it up a little higher.”

All pride and excitement I had previously felt instantly went out the window.

I had told all of my friends I was going to be in a rap video. I had such a good time at the audition making everyone laugh. I suddenly realized that I wasn’t in on the joke. I was the joke. I was ashamed. I was angry. I wanted to get out of there.

I was putting the FAT in Fat Michael Jackson.

For the next hour I sat in shame, trying to figure out what to do. Not only were they going to show all my fat, but I was going to be humiliated because I couldn’t even do any moves like Michael Jackson.

After wallowing in self pity for a while, I began to pray.

I asked for wisdom, I asked for strength, and I may have asked for a fire to burn down the set before I had to be humiliated. As I sat in silence, I felt a gentle nudge say, “Your identity is not found in a music video. You are mine and you are loved. You represent me and it is time to go be the best Fat Michael Jackson this world has ever seen.”

In the midst of my shame, in the midst of questioning my worth and identity, in the midst of my fear, I realized I had been listening to the wrong voice. My belly might be hanging out over my highwater pants and my silver socks might be reflecting the florescent lights above, but I had a choice.

I could continue trying to find my validation from Hollywood and these strangers who I just met, or I could step back into my identity as a child of God and celebrate, enjoy and learn from this crazy opportunity I’d been given.

So I looked at that man in the mirror and decided it was time to make a change.

Missy was still shooting another scene when I got to the sound stage so the producer had me sit in the viewing area where I could watch monitors of the different camera angles.

Missy worked the microphone with Don King hair and a big fur coat.

I had already decided I was going to own being Fat Michael Jackson, so by the time I got to Missy I was confident in who I was. I wasn’t Fat Michael Jackson, I was J.J., a fun guy who likes to bring joy to people and loves them in the process.

Missy came over and I started moving around again, dancing, smiling, and shaking everything I had. She was laughing again and loved it. She approved the wardrobe and I began to head back up stairs to wait to shoot my scene. But as I walked away she called me back.

She said, “I think that shirt is too goofy. Pull it down or give him a bigger size. His face is funny. I want to see his face on camera.”

Quite possibly the greatest compliment I’ve ever been given.

After 45 minutes of competing with Missy on DDR, the assistant director announced “That’s a wrap for Mr. Peterson.” Everyone clapped for me and offered kind words as they walked off set towards the burrito bar and grilled vegetables set up for dinner.

I went back up stairs to get out of my Michael Jackson outfit.

I sat for a few minutes reflecting on what had just happened. I came very close to walking out of the shoot or potentially ruining the shoot by questioning everything about me. When I stopped for a moment, I was able to see where my identity came from.

Our identity comes from Christ—and nowhere else.

Being in a rap video gave me more than just a great story to tell at parties. It also gave me instantly credibility and likability with college students when I became a professor, and opened doors to speak to high school students.

All because I chose to listen to the right voice and be the best Fat Michael Jackson this world has ever seen.

Why It’s Sometimes Best to Ignore Your Feelings

I’m a 4 on the Enneagram with a strong 3 wing. Enneageeks know what this means. It means I’m in touch with my moods, my feelings, my thoughts more than the average person (the 4 side) which can sometimes be a pain.

Being a 4 means you can only “create” when the weather is good. But I’ve got a 3 wing, which means I need to succeed, I need to get work done and I need for that work to be better than anybody else’s (3 = need to succeed).

As you can imagine, these sides war with each other.

Here’s a bit of my internal dialogue in a given day:

My 4 personality: My stomach hurts. And I’m feeling like a loser. I’ll write later.
My 3 wing: You’ll write now, you wimp. How else will we win?
My 4 personality: But I don’t want to. I’m torn up inside and I’m pretty sure it’s because of my childhood.
My 3 wing: That’s gold, man. Write about that stuff. Write about the pain. We could win awards for that sentimental crap!

And on and on it goes.

After a while, though, the 4 personality really does become a chore. It’s like having a moody artist living inside you. And the tension with the 3 wing always cracking the whip is enough to drive you crazy.

So here’s what I’ve learned to do about it: I ignore them.

I honestly never knew I could, and maybe it just took getting a little older to develop the ability. But I’ve discovered I don’t have to obey my moods at all. If I suddenly don’t feel like writing, I just let the feeling pass as I sit down to write.

If my stomach hurts, I ignore it (I doubt it’s terminal) and if I feel like a loser, I ignore that feeling, too.

I’m learning to do more and think less.

I’m a big fan of thinking, but there really are some of us who do too much of it.

The best medicine for an Enneagram 4 is to ignore their moods and thoughts and sit down to do the work, regardless of how they feel.

And I’ve found something to be true in this process:

The work is healing.

The thoughts and moods are never healing, but just accomplishing something, just finishing that chapter or researching that data and getting it down on paper is satisfying. It’s as though my rich imagination is the seed and the soil but the only thing my body can use for sustenance is the food that grows in the work.

You ever spent too much time in your mind? Have you tried ignoring your mind?

The best way for me to ignore my mind is to work. Quicker than a pill, the work usually helps me forget anything I was worried about only moments before.

I hope this helps.

***If you’re interested in reading more about the Enneagram, this resources is a great one on personal development and understanding others using the Enneagram. Richard Rohr has also written about the Enneagram from a Christian perspective