Donald Miller's Blog, page 84

Ten Words that Drastically Changed My Relationships

A little over a year ago, my dad had a massive heart attack.

We didn’t expect it (which sounds weird to say, because who ever expects someone they love to have a heart attack) but it’s true. He’d never had any heart trouble before, he was only fifty-five years old, and you could find him at the gym at least a few times each week.

Then, out of nowhere, his just heart stopped beating.

In the weeks before I got the call we hadn’t been talking much. We were close, and had been close for most of my adult life, but I had recently gotten married and moved across the country, and things were hard, and weird with the transition.

Every time I would think to call I would say to myself, “I’ll call tomorrow…”

So when my sister called to explain what had happened, I felt all of the reasons I’d given myself to hold back from calling him crash against me like a river of grief and regret. “I should have called,” I kept saying to myself, in a blur of tears. “God, don’t let him die. Please, don’t let him die.” I prayed and I sobbed.

*Photo by Robert Gaal, Creative Commons

I was brought back to this moment the other day after getting in an argument with a friend.

It wasn’t a yelling-screaming fight, but we were both frustrated with each other and by the time we hung up the phone, things were weird, like they’d been my with my dad. We were still friends, but we were confused; we weren’t sure who should say what, or when. I laid awake in bed that night, going over the fight in my mind. I felt myself thinking, “I’ll call tomorrow…”

But instead, I sat up in bed and immediately sent them a text: “I love you and care for you, even when we disagree. We’re okay.”

It was simple. So simple. But at the same time, it changed everything for me.

• • •

My grandma turned 90 years old recently, and the whole family traveled to Chicago to celebrate. After the celebration we sat around asking her questions, gleaning from her wisdom about life and marriage and career and family.

My cousin asked, “Grandma, what’s the best thing you ever did for your marriage?”

She thought about it for a minute and then said, “Each night, before we fell asleep, we would turn to each other and say, ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you today. I love you.’” I smiled at her words and then, that night, when I climbed into bed, my husband looked me in the eye and said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you today. I love you.”

It was simple. So simple. But at the same time, it changed everything.

• • •

I wonder if this is why Paul urges us in Scripture not to let the sun go down on our anger — not because it makes God happy (although it probably does), but because he knows it will make us happy. Perhaps he knows our deepest desires, as well as our deepest regrets, come from the same place: Our connection to others.

By a beautiful miracle, my dad survived his heart attack.

But I live differently now, knowing my chance to say “I love you, Dad,” in person, was almost taken away from me. Before I go to bed at night I try to say — to my husband, and whoever else needs to hear it — I’m sorry if I hurt you today. I love you.

It’s simple. So simple. But at the same time, it changes everything.

Ten Words that Drastically Changed My Relationships is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why Self Pity is Ruining Your Life

I have a friend who can’t hold a job. He’s actually had some great jobs, but he can’t keep them. And for each job he’s lost, he has a story about how bad his boss was, how much they overworked him, how silly their systems were or some similar excuse.

Over time I’ve realized my friend suffers from a victim mentality. I noticed it because I used to have it myself. But in the last few years I’ve realized a victim mentality costs me success, relationships and inner peace.

A victim mentality means we consistently look for reasons life isn’t working out the way we want.

But here’s the reality… Very few things in life work out exactly as we’ve planned. But if we don’t play the victim, very often things turn out great and often they turn out even better than we could have dreamed.

Why do people play the victim? Because playing the victim means they don’t have to try, it means they don’t have to take responsibility, and often it means people will feel sorry for them and give them attention.

But make no mistake, it’s a spiritual cancer that in the long run may cost you everything.

Tim Schurrer, who runs Storyline, plays golf every so often with Olympic Skater Scott Hamilton. Recently while they were golfing, Tim noticed something. When Scott hit a poor shot, he only gave himself five seconds to be frustrated. He had such incredible control over his mind that he refused to dwell on his mistakes or misfortune. He’d likely learned this from all those years of training, where falling on the ice in competition means you have to recover physically and mentally at light speed. If you don’t you’ll never beat your competition.

What Scott does, as a knee-jerk reaction, is to make a quick list of why the bad thing that happened could actually be good. Missing a shot means he learns something about his swing. Missing a shot is humbling, so he isn’t tempted to get arrogant. Missing a shot means he gets to teach the people around him how to keep a disciplined mind. In seeing the world this way, Scott continues to get better and better. It’s the mentality of a champion.

Why Self Pity is Ruining Your Life is a post from: Storyline Blog

What I Learned Watching a Crowd Throw Candy at a Kid

Today I attended my first ever Bar Mitzvah. Not only have I never attended a Bar Mitzvah — I’ve never been inside a synagogue before.

Thankfully my friend had sent a letter along with the invitation to her son’s Bar Mitzvah. The letter explained the ceremony, and also listed the things that were off-limits. No bare shoulders, no cell phones, no applause, no writing, and no monetary gifts.

When I arrived, a kind woman met me in the lobby and handed me two books — a copy of the Torah as well as a prayer book called Siddur Sim Shalom. Next to the books were extra yamakas (head coverings) and tallits (prayer shawls). The yamakas were manditory for all men and boys; the prayer shawl was only for Jewish adults. Since I was neither a man nor a Jew, I bypassed that part of the table.

I sat in the back of the sanctuary, listening to the congregation sing the Hebrew texts. Then it was time for the 13-year-old to read the passage from the Torah, which today was from Leviticus. He then gave his interpretation of the text. He said that many people look at the Torah as a list of rules, but he looks at them as opportunities to better the community and get closer to God.

At the end of the service, people in the congregation cheered and threw candy at him, and his father lifted his son up on his shoulders and danced.

*Photo by James Emery (Creative Commons)

And suddenly I was glad I’d chosen to sit in the back of the sanctuary, because I couldn’t help the stream of tears that was flowing down my cheeks.

• • •

Most of the time, the God in my head is punishing and unpleasable. I have to fight to believe that God is who He says He is — loving, patient, slow to anger, and abounding in love. But today, as I watched a glowing father lift his son on his shoulders, I didn’t have to fight to believe. I saw this reflection of God as a loving, proud father, who only wants the best for His children. Who presents us not with rules, but with opportunities to become more like Him. Who invites the angels to celebrate over His children. Who lifts us up on His shoulders and rejoices over us, and gently carries us Home.

What I Learned Watching a Crowd Throw Candy at a Kid is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why You May Be Tired

Do you like yourself?

I knew this girl in college. She doesn’t know this, but when I think about the type of person I hope to be one day, I think about her. And I think it’s because of this: She liked herself. How could I tell? She was confident, fun, funny and totally weird in the best kind of way. She didn’t wear make-up often and she usually had on this old, bright blue Northface jacket. The zipper was broken, so the jacket always hung lopsided. She wore it anyways. She had a sense of who she was unlike other people I knew at that time, and she was a magnet for not just me but everyone she came across.

People like people who like themselves.

More often than not, I like myself on a conditional basis and it usually involves popularity, looks and achievements–if I have them, I like myself. If I don’t, I’m falling short. But as I’ve learned recently, this is not true self-acceptance. Accepting yourself is not being proud of what you do or gauging how much others like you, that’s self-scrutiny. Liking yourself is much deeper and more difficult than that. Strip away all of the good things, the proud moments, the awards, friends and good looks. What’s left?

Maybe you too ride this rollercoaster of self-approval. It’s tiring work. In fact, I don’t think a rollercoaster is the right metaphor here. You ride in a seat or a car that is pulled by a rail and is operated by a controller; the work is done for you. When we accept ourselves only under certain conditions, we’re not riding the rollercoaster, we’re climbing on our hands and knees– up and down, hanging on tight as we round sharp turns.

*Photo by Toronto History (Creative Commons)

But one day your hands will grow tired, the splinters will be too much and you will have failed enough times to convince yourself that climbing this coaster is no longer worth it. And that’s when the question of liking yourself will become irrelevant–you obviously don’t– the question of who you are will come into focus.

• • •

Paul asked the Galatians a crucial identity question: “Are you foolish? Having begun in the Spirit are you now ending (or being completed) in the flesh?”

Having begun in the Spirit are you now ending in the flesh? Ouch. That hurts a girl who has claimed to follow Christ for so many years. If you are a Christian, you believe the Holy Spirit is in you. Therefore, this tiring, desperate journey of doing things that give you a false sense of worth is a walk in the opposite direction of the cross of Christ.

John Piper explored this passage from Galations in a sermon years ago, saying “The clear implication is, it can’t be done. If you try it, you will make a shipwreck of the Christian life. You did not get the Spirit, you did not become Christians, by working for God. You received the Spirit when God worked for you.”

If that’s true, that the work has been done, then more work will surely not lead to this self-approval I so crave. But quitting? That might do it.

Why You May Be Tired is a post from: Storyline Blog

Children Don’t Learn They Matter from the Bible – They Learn it From You

A while back, Matthew Perryman Jones sent out a tweet saying there was a princess party in his living room. You could tell the tweet went out from a moment of pure delight. How could you not delight in that picture? And earlier yesterday morning, I read a quote from John Sowers’ book Fatherless Generation about how quickly our girls wilt when their fathers leave, how they long to know they are beautiful and wanted and have the God-given power to endear a man. And for obvious reasons, the picture and the quote struck me pretty hard.

Young men and young women really do want the same things; to know they are important, to know they matter, to know they can impact the world, to know they are wanted and so on. Of course, these desires are expressed in different ways, but children of both sexes gain early on a confidence that they are on the earth for a reason and not as a mistake. And they don’t learn this from a book, not even from the Bible. The idea we matter is more important to learn in childhood than in any other stage. And they learn from adults, from whether or not they get off the phone, make eye contact, get mad too quickly, love them enough to stay married to their mom, love them enough to protect them from danger, even from themselves. The message God wants to communicate to children is entrusted to you, to the way you look at them or celebrate them when they walk into a room. If they get that message, the Bible will confirm it for the rest of their lives. And if they don’t, they’ll struggle to believe the overwhelming obviousness of God’s love.

The acclaimed poet Maya Angelou, when asked how she had become such a great poet, responded by saying she’d become a great poet because when she was a little girl, her father’s eyes lit up when she walked into the room.

Love your sons. Love your daughters. Teach them what’s already true; that they are delightful.

(this is a re-post from the archives)

Children Don’t Learn They Matter from the Bible – They Learn it From You is a post from: Storyline Blog

How Focussing on Pain Can Bring Happiness

Every Sunday, we feature a sermon from an unlikely source. This week’s video is about an artist who has found beauty from brokenness.

(If you’re interested in learning more about People of the Second Chance, please visit their website.)

How Focussing on Pain Can Bring Happiness is a post from: Storyline Blog

The Best Viral Videos We Found This Week

The winner last week was The Mower Gang. Which of these videos is your favorite this week? Vote below in the comments.

The Best Viral Videos We Found This Week is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why It’s Important to Move Towards Confusion and Pain

I sat on the concrete steps outside of our tiny apartment — halfway down, halfway up — not quite sure if I was going or coming. Two kids were circling the building, one on a bike, one on foot, so every few minutes I would hear the pitter-patter of small feet, and the screech of their voices as they rounded the corner and disappeared again.

I leaned my head against the iron hand rail, and closed my eyes.

Had I ruined everything?

Would there ever be a way to fix this?

I had been married six months so far and, honestly, things weren’t going well. I wanted them to go well. We both wanted them to go well, but they weren’t. And neither of us knew what to do, or who to ask, or who to tell.

The worst part was, I felt like it was all my fault.

I had heard all of the warnings about getting married for the wrong reasons, so I had checked myself so many times during the process. I had given myself permission to change my mind while we were dating, once we were engaged, and even after all the invitations were sent to all of our friends.

But I didn’t ever want to change my mind at these moments. I wanted to marry him. As far as I could tell, I wanted to marry him for all the “right” reasons.

I wanted to serve and love him.

I wanted to share my life with him.

I wanted to be a part of what he was doing.

*Photo by FaceMePls (Creative Commons)

But now, sitting here on this concrete step, watching the “movie” of our relationship play behind my closed eyelids, I realized I had been wrong all along. I did have bad motives. The worst, most toxic and selfish kind of motives a person could have when walking into something as delicate as marriage — I needed him to fix me and complete me and give me something I didn’t have on my own.

Now my motives were ruining everything.

I was worried that this thing called marriage was beyond repair.

• • •

To be honest, I had lived most of my life pausing, stalling, holding back, and sitting on the outside in fear of something like this happening — my bad motives were leaking out all over other people and myself without even knowing it. I held back in relationships, my career, and in every area of life. I just simply, and instinctually, held back.

It was far better this way. Fewer people would get hurt.

But then I met my husband, and he was so different. He was different from me, and different from anyone I had ever met. He was different from the guys I had dated before, who had always held back with me, because of me, or because of themselves. He didn’t hold back anything, ever. He charged forward. And I charged with him.

He could fix anything, I figured. He would take care of everything.

And with that, bad motives crept in.

He would be everything I needed him to be, I assumed — the guy who would heal the wounds I had garnered before I met him. He would reverse all of the stereotypes in my mind, and all of the assumptions I had made about men and myself. He would be the one to pick up my broken pieces when I fell apart. He was scared of nothing, phased by nothing, and held back by nothing.

But of course, now I could see how unrealistic and unfair it was to ask one person to bear that much weight.

Unfortunately, now that I could see my bad motives, I was too far in to back out.

Should I have waited to get married? I wondered as I sat on the steps that day. Maybe if I had held back like I usually did I could have avoided this mess.

Now, looking back, I wonder why I was so obsessed with avoiding my messes and bad motives. After all, the first step to changing bad motives is realizing you have them. And sometimes I wonder if the only way to realize we have them is to move forward without really knowing what we’ll encounter ahead. I wonder if the only way to discover our true motives is to quit holding back in fear of them — to just get going.

It’s messy. The whole thing is really messy.

But I realized something that day I had never known before, as I stood up, wiped the dirt off my pants and climbed the stairs back into the tiny apartment that didn’t yet feel like home: It is possible to do a good thing with bad motives. It is possible to change your motives, even once you’re already in the mess of them.

The answer is to push-in rather than hold back, to get into the thick mess of it, and to put you’re whole weight into it.

It is messy. And people do get hurt (you included). But it’s possible.

And, for me, this realization has changed more than just my marriage. It’s awakened me to more than just a deeper, more satisfying, more intimate relationship with the man I now can’t picture my life without. It has given me the freedom to fully engage all aspects of my life, to stop being a spectator, and to throw my whole weight into it.

Because, no, my motives aren’t perfect. They do make a mess of things.

But they are also the driving force behind the clean-up process; as long as I keep my heart and spirit open, as long as I admit that I don’t have it all figured out, they are constantly being shaped and formed and made into something new.

Why It’s Important to Move Towards Confusion and Pain is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why You Should Look Past Your Peers

Here’s a secret I learned long ago. It’s a big one and it’ll propel you into a future of greatness…

STOP TAKING SOCIAL CUES FROM YOUR PEERS.

Instead of taking social cues from people your age, take cues from people ten and twenty years older than you. Are you looking for a church that has a lot of people who are your age so you can hang out? That’s fine, but try looking for one where most of the people have families and perhaps a little grey hair.

Why?

*Photo by Javier Parra (Creative Commons)

Because the sooner you can relate to their priorities, the sooner you’ll be ready for the next stage of your life. I’m in my late thirties but I’m more interested in hanging out with people who are retired. What’s it teaching me? It’s teaching me that what ultimately matters later in life are friendships, family and love. In matters of faith, what they value most is not theological debate, but closeness with Jesus and unity with other believers.

(a repost from the archives)

Why You Should Look Past Your Peers is a post from: Storyline Blog

An Essential Step to Becoming A More Positive Thinker and Doer

It was my son Hunter’s first soccer game of the season. And like most youth soccer games, the five-year-old boys, with shirts down to their knees, looked like a swarm of bees, oblivious to the coach’s instructions to “spread out.” Still, they managed to get the ball up and down the field, and all but a few ‘intense’ parents had a great Saturday morning.

One day, the coach put Hunter in as the goalie. Inexperienced at the position, he was eager to put on the special goalie outfit (complete with a brightly colored shirt and gloves). Soon he was standing there in all of his splendor. When the first ball went past him, I didn’t think much about it. After all, I’ve seen professionals miss a ball or two. After the 6th ball hit the net behind him, I began to get worried.

When the opposing team’s score hit the two-figure mark, I began to sweat. The competitive parents began whispering things and I knew that my son would soon get a nickname like “Colander” for his ability to let things go through him.

By the game’s end he had saved two goals, but frankly I can’t remember the number of goals the other team scored (let’s just say their total was more like an NBA basketball score, while ours was in the single digits). I was sure it was going to be a long ride home.

*Photo by Niklas Hellerstedt, Creative Commons

As we got in the car, I knew my son must have been feeling awful– a good dose of shame just slammed into him, directly in front of a crowd. In my sensitive fatherly voice, I said, “So pal, how are you feeling?”

“Great!” he said with enthusiasm. “Can you believe it? I stopped two goals!”

The smile that came over my face almost broke my jaw.

“Yes you did son!” I said with a loud, laughing voice. “Yes you did!” And then we high-fived and went to Sonic for a milkshake, as winners do.

In one of our recent dinner conversations, I retold that story. My wife and sons laughed and laughed, remembering even more stories of the times we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

Later that night, I realized something. If we are truthful, life sends a lot of soccer balls our way. They often fly past us as if David Beckham kicked them, soaring through the air with an impossible bend. Some of them come straight at us and go through our legs. Others catch the top corner of the net causing the other team to scream with delight. There are a lot of misses out there.

But every now and then, we see the ball coming and we’re at the right place at the right time and we stop that sucker. We thrust our arms upwards, hitting the air with our fist as we yell, “I stopped a goal!”

Maybe we need to give one another (and ourselves) a little break. With so much pressure for success, what if we celebrated the small, day to day wins instead of waiting for the BIG ones that are elusive at best?

“I stayed sober for one more day!” Yes you did!

“I did one selfless thing today.” Yes you did!

“I made it through the day without cynicism.” Yes you did!

“I wrote one page in my novel.” Yes you did!

“I exercised for fifteen minutes.” Yes you did!

• • •

My friends, we muff it up a lot. We miss so many things, goof up more than not, and often do harm to others. But almost every day we do at least one thing well, yeah, maybe even two. We’re kind to a stranger, give up our seat on the train, or give the weary waiter a big tip.

I think it’s about time we give those moments some good press. Next time something like that happens, let me know. The milkshake is on me.

An Essential Step to Becoming A More Positive Thinker and Doer is a post from: Storyline Blog