Managing Disappointment, Part One

I really dislike letting people down. Because I tend to be a reliable, stable, dependable person, it hits me hard when I come up short. And sometimes it’s just unavoidable.

It’s an inescapable reality both because I have faults and I’m not perfect; but it’s also due to the fact that I can’t control the world around me as much as I like to pretend I do.

Because of that, a few weeks ago I had to make a heart-wrenching phone call. Months ago, I had arranged for my students to go to Mexico for a mission trip and stay with an organization that I love in Ensenada. We were going to help build a second story onto a church building that exists because my youth group has been a faithful partner with them for ten years. We planned to do community outreach and show tangible love to the children of that impoverished neighborhood.

But there has been a growing amount of violence in Baja California, and the time came when my leadership team decided it just wasn’t safe to take teenagers across the border. The painful phone call I made was to tell my beloved ministry friends at Rancho Agua Viva that even though they were expecting us in 11 days, we wouldn’t be coming. It caught them by surprise and I was aware that my phone call had dramatically changed how they planned to spend a week of their lives. We talked through how to communicate this to the pastor of that church that was now going to have to wait for that second story on his building; I tried to emphasize just how much I regretted having to give this news, but I just didn’t have the words to tell them how hard it is to say no to being with them.

I know without a doubt that making that phone call was the right thing to do, and I shouldn’t bear the weight of disappointing them. But I still heft that burden onto my own shoulders, because I feel that someone must carry it. How tragic and irresponsible it would be if I were flippant about the impact that news carries with it. YET…the way I manage my disappointment in having to call is to know that the call MUST be made. Someone must be strong and have the courage to do a task that no one wants; so I picked up my phone, and as an act of love to my friends in Mexico and in Walnut Creek, I called with bad news. 

Living Into Unpredictability

It’s a feeling I’ve only experienced four times. It happens when I peel the wrapping off a new journal. I sit it next to old one and find myself surprised at how white the pages of the new one look. The old journal has walked through six or seventh months of life with me, and somehow has become beat up, yellowed, dented and in some cases torn.

But doesn’t that make sense? If the journal is capturing my life and thoughts, shouldn’t it carry the same kind of battle wounds it feels like I’ve had?

I think what excites me about the new journal is looking at the potential of what that book will contain; it represents the next six months of my thoughts, experiences and life. It makes me wonder what new insights will come in the next season.

Also, there is something about holding a completed journal and knowing that the last six months were real and tangible. It’s a confirmation of my growth and development, and perhaps most importantly, insight into who I am. As I flip back through the completed journal, I see prayers, sermon notes, joys, frustrations, quotes from friends and authors, reflections on my daily life and tremendous vulnerability at committing my feelings into words.

This rare feeling that comes with that new potential makes me wonder, where else is that available in my life? So much of what I do feels routine (because I thrive on routine) and maybe that gets in the way of seeing promise in the future. I love the journal because its impending contents are unpredictable. Maybe what I need is to let go of my routine and live into the unpredictable.

How Speeding Tickets Are Like Life

I’m pretty good at getting out of tickets. I know how to talk to a police officer. I just had a stretch of being pulled over 11 times without getting one ticket. About a year ago, the officer thanked ME before getting back into his car.

But highway patrolmen are a totally different thing.

Consequently, back in July I got a ticket on Highway 17 just north of Santa Cruz. Like so many other people, the first thing I did when that officer was out of range was to look over the ticket and see if he’d made a mistake anywhere. Maybe he misspelled my name or wrote down my license number wrong. I immediately looked for a way to fight this ticket.

Of course, I’m sure we’ve all heard the different ways to get out of a ticket. If you take it to court, the officer won’t show up. If there’s a mistake in the filing, you can get out of it. My first inclination was to try and find a loophole, even though I knew exactly what I was doing when I set my cruise control over the limit.

What is it about us that inherently thinks that things like speeding tickets are something we ought to fight? I was definitely driving over the limit and I clearly got caught; so why am I so quick to think this is something I can escape? Even though the mistake was mine, I wanted to find a way to make the officer at fault in order to excuse my error.

I wonder, is this something I do everywhere in my life? Do I seek to pass responsibility or blame onto others, or onto my circumstances? The problem really isn’t whether I’m doing the wrong thing, it’s that I’m so prone to trying to excuse my own behavior, even when I knew from the start that I was in the wrong. Loopholes are often my savior, and frankly, I need to unlearn how to talk my way out of tickets. So, instead of fighting this ticket, I’ve decided to pay it. And now that I’m $225 poorer, I might actually start driving slower instead of relying on my ability to talk my way out of a problem.

Why I'm Not Busy Anymore

Let’s get clear about something right now: my calendar is massively full right now. There’s a lot on my plate. But I’ve started refusing to say I’m busy. “Why,” you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. There are two reasons.

I suppose I should first explain what brought about this shift for me. Don’t worry, it’s connected to my reasons for changing. Whenever anyone has asked me recently how I’m doing, I have the same standard response: I’m busy. No doubt this has been my reply for a long time, but it is only lately that I’ve noticed that “busy” is my default answer. As I’ve thought about this, I’ve realized it’s a huge problem that my answer isn’t an answer at all.

First of all, I’m always busy. While I have seasons that are more or less full than others, I can always describe my plate as full and my calendar as packed. Doesn’t that therefore mean that “busy” equals “normal” in my life? If busy is the state I’m constantly in, that’s actually just my usual. Everyone I know describes themselves as busy, and no doubt that’s true; but if we are ALL ALWAYS busy, I think we need to rethink how we talk about it. To me, “busy” implies “moreso than normal.” So I’m going to stop telling people I’m busy when really, I’m just living my usual full life.

Second, when people ask me how I’m doing, I reply with what I’m doing. They want to know how I am and respond by telling them that my calendar is full? What’s up with that? It’s not to impress them or convince them that I’m important; I’m positive that’s not the reason. But really, there’s something wrong with my communication and my priorities when my closest friends ask how I am and I essentially tell them what I’m doing.

Who I am is not defined by what I do, and my language needs to reflect that. So I hereby declare that I am no longer busy. I am normal, and next time you see me, you should ask how I’m doing. 

Solitude at Altitude

A little over a month ago, I spent a week in Colorado. There are more than 50 peaks in Colorado higher than 14,000 feet, and it's my goal to climb half of them. Most of them aren't particularly difficult hikes, but when you get up that high it's brutally hard to breathe; getting to the top becomes less about your physical ability and more about your mental commitment to arriving. 

On August 22, I hit the trail a few minutes before six a.m. with the intention of making it to the top of three peaks. They're all part of the same range, so summiting all three in a day is attainable, but it requires around 3,500 feet of elevation change. 

The "warm up" summit, Mt. Democrat, took me about an hour forty-five and turned out to be the easiest part of the day. The stretch between Democrat and Mt. Lincoln (with a brief stop at Mt. Cameron's summit) had 35 mile an hour winds pushing me towards a 1,000 foot drop off on either side. But the cold and the wind were well worth it when I arrived at the peak of Mt. Lincoln and had a profound moment.

I had the peak to myself for ten minutes and it was a unique experience. At 14,286 feet you feel like you can see the whole world spread out before you. It was perfectly peaceful, and I was completely alone. In that moment, it seemed to me that I was solitary in the world, and the whole of creation was designed and wrought together solely for me. I wonder if it’s possible to capture such a feeling. Because no doubt, in that moment, God felt the same about me. We were alone together. For an instant, I truly understood that I am important enough for creation to exist; I’m that valuable. It was a brief flash and then gone, but I was left with the aftermath of a startling realization of what it means to be weaved into God’s story and what a grand, larger than life tale He’s telling.

The Real Reason I Say No

It’s hard for me to say no. I do my best to be diligent about knowing what I have time for and what I don’t but I constantly find myself with a schedule that’s too full. I love helping and being involved...I find it valuable to participate so I constantly say "yes" to lots of opportunities. Which is why a recent “no” was so unique for me.

I belong to a church that does things well and pretty intentionally. So when you get an invitation to lead something, that invite is meaningful. A few weeks ago, I was asked to serve in a capacity that I think uses my gifts and would be a great opportunity for me to grow. But as I said, my schedule is fairly packed. With school, my job, speaking engagements, a wedding that I’m officiating and trying to have time for normal friendships, I had to decline; I knew that I wasn’t capable of saying yes to another thing.

But after some time passed, I’ve realized that I said no not because I didn’t have time for it…or rather, the time crunch indicated the truth. Instead, I became aware that I had the time but not the capability. Because my church does things so well, I want to live up to that standard. I have the time to squeeze that opportunity into my schedule, but I don’t have the capacity to do it well. Because my church works so hard to do everything well, I wanted to honor that standard and knew that my plate was too full and I wouldn’t be able to live up to a commitment of quality.

How much does a full calendar become my excuse for passing on things, when in reality I need to acknowledge to myself that I’m only so capable? I think that’s the reason I have a hard time saying no…because that feels like admitting that I’m not Superman, able to meet everyone’s needs. Maybe that’s why I hide behind a full calendar; I’m scared to confess to people that I have limitations.

Why I Blog

One of the things I’ve discovered as I spend more time behind the lens of my camera is that my Nikon changes the way I see the world around me. Because I’m looking for a good shot, I experience my surroundings more deeply; I get more out of the world. When I want to frame my world through the camera, I see it all differently and somehow I’m more present with it.

So I wonder…what would happen if I learned how to shift the frame of my world on a more consistent basis? I’m not looking for a better frame really; just a more intentional, thoughtful frame. I don’t want to miss out on the unique in my everyday.

In order to do that, I need a tool to help my eyes see things differently. And that’s what this blog is going to be. I’d like it if others get something out of reading this, but really this hopefully habitual writing is to help me witness the world through a different frame and become better with the words that describe it.