Accountability - Take It, or Leave It?

I have not told many people about my running... 

One of the things about running, for me at this point, is that I MUST finish.  As each day [and now, each week] has been completed, a new sense of accomplishment and resolve has swelled over me.  It has been important for me to do this for reasons far beyond the two listed in my first blog on this topic (Weak One on Day 1).  My realization of things otherwise hidden in the recesses of my soul are being exposed - for some reason, this has been attached to my running.  I’m not sure I will communicate all of it, as some of it is quite personal [ironic considering this blog post discusses accountability].

I haven’t told many people about running until recently when I used it as a sermon illustration.  Until then, I was running early in the morning, sometimes right before light.  I wondered how many of my neighbors might see and ask me about it.  I know most of my neighbors - in a community such as ours, it’s hard not to.  I can easily identify more homes of people I know than homes I don’t along my running route.  Strangely enough, until this past week, no one has said anything to me about it.  I’ve liked it that way, too.  No accountability!!!!

That’s really what my shy secrecy boiled down to, no accountability.  But why?

Well, the obvious answer is the right answer - I didn’t WANT to be held accountable.  After all, what if if I didn’t keep up the activity?  What if I was just going to sudden extremes with an activity that really wasn’t going to stick?  If I told people about it, they might feel compelled to ask me about it.  If I kept it to myself, I didn’t have to deal with facing inability, embarrassment, failure or even quitting.  

This is so much like the Christian walk.  How many of us find ourselves NOT sharing aspects of our growth or commitments or need to improve in areas of our Christian lives because as soon as we do, we know someone might hold us accountable?  We seem to get in this mindset that flying solo in our walk with the Lord is somehow admirable.  A badge of honor, maybe.  I think it is an excuse.  It is an excuse that makes NOT following through easier.  It is easier to NOT race to finish.  It is easier to dip back into our sin of choice or tendency to be complacent.  It is an excuse that allows us a sense of security in an area with no real commitment if we change our minds.  If no one knows we are running to begin with, how can they very well know we have stopped?

It is a challenge to tell another about a personal commitment.  It is a challenge to be so vulnerable.  Vulnerability with others reveals a weakness in us that we assume other people don’t have or understand.  It is a challenge to say to another “look, I know I need to change in an area, and this is how I am attempting to do it”.  It is then also a challenge to face them if we think we are falling short.  

Accountability, real accountability, is always going to be challenging.  It is not to be confused with a group of people sitting in a circle talking about how often and how far they have fallen short and handing out milkshakes to comfort the sense of failure.  Those scenarios just turn into a cauldron of group justification in which everyone marinades.  No! Real accountability is in your face.  It drains the hot-tub of self justification and hands you a towel.  It screams like a coach and reminds you of your goal and desire.  It recognizes frailty without giving in to justify failure.  It builds upon the rubble and rises to the tough occasion of abrasive intervention.

I did tell a few people... very few.  I cautiously told specific people; mostly because I had to for one reason or another, not because I wanted to.  I told a seasoned runner friend because I was curious about shoes and I knew he could advise me in the right direction.  I told a physical therapist friend because I was dealing with some bodily pains and discomfort, and I knew he could help me understand what I was dealing with.  I told trustworthy family members because they are safe people to me, and they will encourage me no matter what.  All in all, what came tumbling back from each of them was nothing but encouragement and knowledge to help me in the process.  Each of them shares a certain commonality with me.  Each of them wants me to succeed.  Each of them is interested in what I’m doing.

That’s how it should be in our journey of faith.  We should be engaging people who are further seasoned in their walk with the Lord to encourage and guide us along the way.  Mature Christians know better than to ridicule a newer Christian’s efforts.  Mature Christians know better how to evaluate, disciple and mentor newer believers.  Mature Christians should be well equipped to help newer ones take steps in areas of commitment, growth, self-discipline, and maturity.  It is through those who have gone before us that we learn that it can be done, and how it is done.  

This is the very thing Paul did with new Christians and churches in the New Testament.  He held them accountable.  He was pretty brassy about it, too, often calling people out by name.  While holding Christians accountable, he strived diligently to be the example to others that they needed. He actually told some to look to him, and others like him, as the example.  In Philippians Paul wrote “Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.”

Most of us are quick to say “don’t look at me as your example, you’ll be disappointed”.  That’s often either false humility or actual truth - either needs to be dealt with.  People desire authenticity from others.  They seek those who they know can help them in specific ways.  People need to be vulnerable with someone trustworthy and reliable.  People are looking to others as examples.  It is the very reason certain people are the first we call in a crisis, or for prayer, for guidance, for confession.  We all know those who, when the moment demands, we call as our go-to in our faith.  They hold us accountable, they tell us what we need - not what we want to hear, and they prove to be legitimate, always.

1 Corinthians 9:26-27

So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.

Weak One on Day 1

Not long ago, I resolved to get in better shape.  It all started because of a couple of things:

1)  I was playing with a group of children one Wednesday night to the sudden reality that I was severely out of breath within a couple of minutes, and I mean literally two minutes - this is a problem. 

I have young children of my own... very young children.  I routinely calculate out my age as they grow to the troubling awareness that they might have to visit me in the rest home to show me their diplomas when they graduate.

And........

2)  I saw a recent picture of myself sitting at a table full of food.  The picture was a candid shot, so I had not prepared myself by sucking in my gut and convincing the camera that I have a flatter waistline than I do.  Instead, I saw my slumped, poor postured body with a gut....my gut, larger than it should be, touching the table.  It was not a pretty sight to these eyes.

For these two reasons, both in the same week, I decided to make a change.

[It is at this point I feel I should express some sensitivity to others.  I know that I am a guy with a significantly rapid metabolism. I have always been thin.   Even in my times of major illnesses I was only 35 pounds heavier or so.  Most of my life I have been downright skinny.  I know that to complain about my size could be a little insulting [perhaps nauseating] to others striving to lose or maintain weight.  Please know, insult is not my intention.  My intention is to relay a story of personal deconstruction and observations from the journey I am still traveling.  At the same time, heathy is healthy, and out of shape is out of shape.  I am decidedly out of shape.]

So, on a Wednesday was the breathless dodgeball game.  Thursday of the same week was when the picture was taken, and Friday of the same week is when I woke up much earlier than usual with a terribly strong urge to run [insert Forrest Gump reference here].

Here’s the thing.....I don’t run!!!  I have said many times that I run only when chased.  Since I, and the bullies who tormented me in elementary and middle school, have since matured, I have no need to run from chasers.  

I have friends who run, though.  I see their posts on Facebook about the miles or times or races they have run, it seems to be everywhere.  It’s not quite as common as seeing what people have had for lunch, or the pics of summer temperatures, but almost as much.  It’s nowhere near as much as people going on and on and on about their own kids or quoting things they say - oh, wait.  

I must admit, I have somewhat made fun of such posts of runners [just to myself, until now] and have thought why in the world would anybody want to run when you’re not trying to escape?  Nevertheless, running is the notion I had waking up that Friday morning.

So, I have an app for this.  It’s one of those C25K apps [that’s ‘Couch to 5K’ for the not so exercise-app savvy out there].  This one claims to be the official one.  I don’t know if it is, and I really don’t care either; it has been a good app.  It is extremely user-friendly and downright idiot proof if you ask me.  Apparently I’m running for breast cancer because there is a pink ribbon on all the pages.  Either that, or this grown man is using a girls app.  Oh well.

The app starts training with gradual body conditioning that takes the user to the level of running a 5K in only 8 weeks.  Day 1 almost killed me!!!!!  It literally felt like I was going to die.... or, at least have a really bad situation on my hands.  I ended up in the ER that day, no joke.

Not only was I pasty looking and lightheaded, and my chest pounding with a racing heart, but the sharp pains piercing from front to back through my chest seemed almost unbearable.  I came home, tried not to be overly alarmed, shared the news with my RN wife, and was soon being driven to the hospital for tests.

I knew it wasn’t a heart attack, but I was concerned that I was experiencing blood clots in my lung - I’ve had them before and know what it feels like.  At the same time I felt so stupid.  How out of shape must I be that on day ONE of what I think has been as much a spiritual journey as a physical one, I find myself strapped to a heart monitor getting chest X-rays and a CT scan?  I didn’t even want to tell the doctor I had been exercising.  Could I even accurately say I had been “exercising”?  Does day one even count to say “exercising”, or is it just extra activity?  It’s really more like an orientation isn’t it?

I felt even dumber when he said everything looked to be okay.  He said “there could be very small clots in there, but the good news is, those never killed anyone.  Give it a couple of days, and see how you feel.”  I felt relieved, but still dumb.

I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t hoping he might tell me I shouldn’t try to run, that would feel like a relief.  It would be an excuse to quit that I could call a reason.  At the same time, I just felt like running was something I was supposed to do.  Personally, I feel like it has been a prompting of the Holy Spirit to do so, and is certainly why it has felt so spiritual to me.  That first day, though taxing and physically scary, was so exhilarating.  I can’t convey the way I felt when I was done [beyond the whole thinking I was going to die part].

As a result, I have been jotting down some of my observations through the process and thought I might share them here in multiple blog posts over time.  All of them together are too many for a single blog, especially from someone who might be called a long-winded preacher from time to time.

But hey, that’s the beauty of blogging - it’s win, win, win, win for everyone:

  

• I get to write about it, which I feel compelled to do - win for me.  
• I finally have activity again on what has otherwise been a dead blog - win for me (and maybe you).  
• You get to read it and laugh at me - win for you.  
• You don’t have to read if you don’t want to - win for you.  We all win.

So, for today, I suppose the observation is simple - starting anew is not always easy.  Whether it is in exercise, or our walk with the Lord, starting anew can sometimes feel more painful than doing the same thing we’ve been doing for so long.  

I told my wife, after going to the doctor [twice so far], that I was seeing the doctors less when I was slothful and lazy.  The truth is, there are pains that come with the progress, those pains remind us of the work it takes to get to a better place of existence.  I know I’m not where I want to be, but I’m not where I was either - physically or spiritually.  I just want to be a better version of me. 

1 Corinthians 9:24

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.

I Hate My Job... sometimes

Sometimes I really, really hate my job.  My responsibility.  My calling.  My role.  Yesterday was one of those days... yet, the job must be done.

The job, the calling, the role, is parenting.  Being a parent is tough.  It is truly not for the faint of heart or the sap - especially when it comes to discipline.

I had to punish two of my boys; more extremely than a simple talk, sending to their rooms or taking something away for a while.  This was physical.  Yes, I am aware of the possible risk of publishing physical discipline in a blog.

Know this, we are spankers [you can say it like the Farmers Insurance commercials if you want - We ~ Are ~ Spankers! bum--bum,bum-bum,bum,bum].  I know that does not sit well with all parents, but I don’t care.  We are not abusive.  We do not punish in the heat of anger.  We use only a specific tool for the job - a paddle [not a belt, spoon, stick, water hose, inner tube, lit cigarette, etc.] all of those items have different jobs, and I do not use them to strike my children.  I know that sounds condescending and pointed; good.  I have strong opinions on various forms of physical discipline. 

Discipline is the point, of course.  The point is not to have an outlet to express my own frustration and anger, it is to correct and straighten my child’s incorrect behavior and understanding of what is acceptable.  Yesterday, I hated having to do that job.  I always hate having to do that job.

Two of my boys were disobedient with me to a degree that not only made me angry, but also seemed to indicate they had no care that they were out of line.  That is a huge problem.  It is one thing to need to modify behavior, and another thing entirely to modify attitude.  See, the minute my verbal instruction and cues are disrespectfully disregarded and then that behavior [and attitude] left unattended, a downward spiral of continuing disobedience and disrespect can ensue.  By itself, that moment of disobedience may be blown off by me as “no big deal”, but that demonstrates a lack of self discipline in me as a parent [and biblically you might say it also demonstrates a lack of love].  Over time that in itself "disciplines" them into an entirely different way of thinking.  As Barney Fife would have said, “you have to nip it in the bud.”  

We were 20 minutes away from home when I began my speech about how disappointed, angered and deeply bothered I was by what had just happened.  I could see it all over their faces, they knew they were in for it.

They knew that when we got home, they would be sent to their rooms immediately.  They knew they would sit their wondering what would be next.  Would Dad just come in and talk?  Would Dad take something away?  Or, would Dad come in with the spanking paddle?  

I guess to some degree I contemplated all of those things as well.  However, I knew.  I knew my step was to go in with the spanking paddle.  The sheer terror of that alone is disabling... for me that is.  It kills me to have to do so.  

I hate having to crack open that door and see a face change from hope to conclusion.  I hate seeing that instant when the reality of the next few moments sets in.  I hate the sound of the pleading, the crying, the begging for a stay of execution.  It makes my heart hurt.  Let me also clarify that these moments are actually pretty rare for our house.  There are many forms of penalty that we implement before and instead of spanking.  But sometimes...well, anyway.

I always know my plan before going in.  I also strike my own leg to remind me of the “feel” of the paddle and the sting produced.  This is a practice I have always done to reinforce and remind myself that it is the effect, not necessarily pain that matters.  That being said, it does hurt.  This form of punishment requires so much energy, and focus, and enough time to be correct in it.

The worst part, for me, is immediately following the punishment.  I dread what may come from the mouths of my children.  Are they going to scream that they hate me?  Are they going to declare that I don’t love them?  Are they going to weep in a pillow and refuse to listen to anything else I have to say?  So far none of that has happened.  None of those words have been verbalized.  Tears? yes. Weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth? Dramatically yes.  Grabbing and rubbing their own booty?  indeed.  Saying things they regret?  No, never.

They will will ultimately come to me, sit next to me, climb into my lap, rest their head on me, snubbing (mostly from fear and anticipation more than actual pain), and then... they listen.  

This is where it all comes together.  This is when the effect of mature parenting and discipline must take place.  It is at that moment when the full lesson of the importance of self-discipline, obedience, and love is fully reinforced.  It is at this moment when they see an authoritative, stern, focused, restrained, and loving father communicate the importance of good personal judgement.

I always tell them how important my job as their Daddy is.  I always tell them how much I hate having to punish them.  I always tell them how much it hurts my heart.  I always tell them how much I love them.  And, I always tell them that I love them too much to allow them to get away with whatever they want.  And then, there is repentance.  There is forgiveness.  There is restoration.  There is course correction.  And there is peace.  

Most times, one of the greatest opportunities to demonstrate God’s attributes to our children is in times of discipline and course correction.  After all, God disciplines us as well... because He loves us too much to not correct our course.

Hebrews 12:5b-6; 11

5b MY son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor faint when you are reproved by Him; 6 for those whom the Lord loves HE disciplines, and HE scourges every son whom HE receives.

11 All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.

A Little Box of Soap Today

Yesterday I was listening to a conversation between two men about duck hunting.  Of course, too far into a conversation about such things gets me a little lost.  I usually nod like I know what they are talking about and locations they reference, but usually I don’t.  I did pick up on one statement from one to the other about duck hunting with his son; “If you teach him to do it, you’ll never have to do it for him.”

The other man has been spending the last several years doing just that.  Teaching the skill.  I stood there for a moment thinking about the statement and wondering to myself if there is something to the sport of duck hunting that makes that statement especially significant.  I mean, that makes sense to me when I think of fishing and cleaning your own fish.  Who really wants to spend time cleaning someone else's catch?  But, isn’t that true with any type of game?  who wants to field dress (that’s a term I know) someone else’s deer?  I’ll just have to ask one of my hunting friends when I get the chance.

Anyway, as I stood there I began to think upon the wisdom of the statement when it occurred to me that such a precept is true in all areas of parenting.  I suppose it is the same concept of teaching a man to fish instead of giving him a fish (might as well stay with the sportsman metaphors).

I began to imagine what it would look like if I was still tying my 9 year old’s shoes.  What about when he is 20?  What if I were to still be hand feeding my daughter, as a perfectly heathy and capable little girl when she is 15?  Sounds stupid, I know, but this is the truth in other major developmental stages of parenting.  I know of parents who currently do the homework of their high school students...they literally do the work for them.  Are you kidding me?

I immediately began to think upon the application of this principle in other areas from the most basic tasks on:  Teach him to clean up after himself.  Teach him to manage his money.  Teach him how to relate to others.  Teach him how to think for himself.  Teach him how to exercise common sense.  Teach him how to read and write.  Teach him how to eat with utensils.  

So many dysfunctional parenting relationships have rolled out of childhood and into adulthood because the concept of teaching instead of doing has not been followed beyond the basic skills and into the more complex areas of living.  Too often this reality becomes a terribly enabling relationship between parents and their children, and sometimes the cycle is never broken.  In many cases, adult children still act like children because they have never been taught to be adults.  They have relied on a parent to do things for them instead of learning the skill.  Both suffer the difficult consequences of that arrangement.

I know my readers who have adult children may not agree, or may feel there is nothing to do about it now.  While I’m sure it feels that way, changes can be made; perhaps that is a discussion for another blog.  In the meantime, for my readers who still have younger, impressionable children in their care, be diligent in training them in all things of life and living.  What profit is there in being a champion duck hunter and a worthless husband or father?  

The Bible instructs us to train up our children in the way they should go.  Such instruction is not limited to learning to tie shoes, button coats, or use the correct duck call.  It is a direction of self worth, right living, integrity, and building character.  It is teaching them what it means to be a man or woman.  It is teaching them what it means to follow a godly code of living.  It is teaching them to be well rounded individuals ready for this thing called life and culture.  It is teaching them to be a contributor to family, church, and community... not filling in the void and making excuses for them over and over, and over, and over.....  

1 Corinthians 13:11

When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.

August 13th

I love my wife for so many reasons (see last years blog 17 Years and Counting).  One of the things I love about her, and our relationship, is that in all our years of marriage, we have neither become tired of each other’s company nor exhausted our conversations.

I remember when we were dating, we would look around a restaurant and notice seasoned couples who seemed to have nothing to talk about.  They just sat and looked at their plates, eating and never said anything to each other.  I remember telling Jennifer many times that when we are older and married a while, I don't want to be like that.  I don’t ever want to sit in a restaurant across from her and have nothing to talk about.  That would just make me feel so sad.

We always have something to discuss.  We always have stories to tell each other.  We always have things to laugh about.  We have spent many nights over the years sharing a bowl of chips and Queso or salad and endless baskets of breadsticks while having the best conversations of our lives with each other.  I love those moments.  I love those memories.

Those orchestrated moments have been farther apart and fewer in number in recent years, but Monday I look so forward to having one again.  We will celebrate 18 years of marriage on that day and though there are many things about that to which we look forward, the thing to which I look most forward is sitting down across a table for lunch and just enjoying our conversation.

We will sit and discuss the fact that it is just the two of us and we will try our best to recall what we did with our time before our children required it.  We will joke about what it is like to simply ask for a table for two instead of seven.  We wont need kids menus or high chairs.  We will be excited that the cost is significantly less as a result, and we definitely will not be getting stared at while seeing our kids being counted by others and the details our life theorized.  People are funny.  

We don’t have that rule you hear in sit-coms about not discussing the children on our date - we love to talk about them.  While doing so, we will also reference the fact that we are without the constant need of our children wanting crayons, trying to reach the chips, playing with the salt & pepper shakers, or having to go to the restroom at the same time.  We won’t have to worry with forks loudly banging on the table, spilled beverages, straw sheathes blown from the straw at us, or deciding whether to bribe with ice cream for good behavior.  We will find ourselves enjoying the moment of childlessness.  It takes a little bit for the stillness of that moment to sink in.

For me, the alone, adult time is nice, but not so much because they are not around.  It is because when the children  are not around, I also see that it is each other we still so deeply enjoy.  Moments such as these are not void ones either - there is no awkward spot where suddenly we don’t know what to do with ourselves.  Though our children are missed, they are not what holds our relationship together.  Their absence from us, even for a little while, reminds us that it is not our children that have kept us committed in our relationship - it has been the relationship itself.  Our calling to submit to oneness with one another.

My bride has been my bride since before the foundation of the world, and I have been her groom.  We have weathered many things together by now and anticipate an array of experiences to come.  Our life has been so full and blessed with surprises thus far, and has been an adventure beyond anything we would have knowingly signed up for 18 years ago.

I love my wife, and I still love calling her “my wife”.  I love that she loves me.  I love that we love being together.  I love that I love her far more today than I did back then.  Back then I didn’t think I could possibly love her more...but, I do.

I Corinthians 13:13

But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.

A Word from the Lord? Forget about it. Put it out of your mind.

No, this isn’t a word to you from the Lord...I guess it could be on some level, but this is about a word from the Lord to me.

A few weeks ago while away at a conference I was in a moment of deep reflection, meditation, and prayer (sounds extra spiritual, right?).  Though maybe sounding cliche, it is the truth - I was in the midst of all three of those descriptions when I felt a tremendous prompting of the spirit to do something when I returned home.  I decided that perhaps I was simply caught up in a moment and dismissed the prompting as my own thoughts.  Actually doing so proved difficult.

I remember back when I was wrestling with my call to ministry.  After having come to a breaking point of conviction, I shared the news with my personal mentor, teacher, and minister.  His words to me were, and I quote, “Just forget about it.  Put it out of your mind”.

What?!?  Are you kidding? After all this struggle, rebellion, denial, disobedience and running?  No way! 

He told me that if God was truly calling me, then such advice would be impossible for me to follow.  He said “God wont let you forget it”.  It was an interesting measure to help me affirm the Holy Spirit’s quiet voice among the resounding noise of my own thoughts.  I have used the same advice for others over the years now.

Well, after my encounter a few weeks ago I chose to take a similar approach to what I believed to be the Holy Spirit pressing upon me in a specific area.  I knew the spirit seemed to be telling me to do something, but nothing about what I was hearing really made sense.  I felt like God wanted to use me in a particular event, but in order to do so, I would have to explain this to the organizers of the event... and I would have to come out and ask to preach it.  This thing has been in the works for months, and the details (or at least the major ones) have been worked out.  I decided I may be letting my own heart and desires interfere with my moments of reflection.  

For weeks now I have been unable to release the thought of this prompting and have since decided it is a genuine word from the Lord with no ambiguity.  But how?  How was I supposed to do what I felt like God wanted me to do?  All I could think of was to simply ask, but asking would feel so presumptuous.  Almost egocentric.

I’m a pastor and a preacher.  For those who might not realize, those are very different things and not everyone is good at both.  Some excel in one which helps allow for the tolerance of weakness in the other.  It is my personal desire to be excellent at both - I am still a work in progress.

For the preacher side, the opportunity to preach outside the normal week to week church environment is usually a welcomed one, but is also an opportunity preceded by an invitation by another.  I have never requested to preach anywhere.  Yet, I felt God’s leading for me to ask to do so.

I have kept this a matter of personal prayer for a couple of weeks and finally decided I needed to bring it to the attention of the event organizers.  Knowing that preachers are lined up pretty early, I decided to share the story of my realization and simply offer myself as a back-up in the event the booked preacher could not attend suddenly.  

I decided I need to prepare something in case something unexpected occurred and he could not show.  I am absolutely convinced that I am specifically supposed to preach this event (This doesn’t mean I would have sabotaged another preachers travel ability to force the situation, i.e. slashed tires, syphoned gas tank, give him the wrong address, etc., I was just thinking ahead in consideration of God’s providence).  Anyway.

As it turns out, I was in a meeting where the event was being discussed to discover no one had been booked.  Are you serious!  I couldn’t believe it.  It had been accidentally neglected and the man in mind had never been contacted.  As I sat in the room, I felt myself become fidgety and nervous with excitement.  As with other times in my life, I was seeing God’s plan coming together before my eyes and in my presence.

I finally decided to speak up and tell the story I just relayed in this blog.  I ended with saying that I know it is not up to me, but I believe God wants me to do this.  Just then another man in the room made the statement that “this is definitely a God thing” and that he was planning to ask if they might ask me to do so anyway instead of the other guy.  My heart feels like it skips a beat just recalling it all.  I tell people all the time that God has no trouble communicating himself to his people, and here I am once again experiencing just that in a real and immediate way.

I have no idea what will come of this event, but this I know - I am not going to miss it for anything.  Doing so will be me stepping outside the very will of God.  That is something none of us should ever want to do.

A Burden's Prey

Recently I have felt heavily burdened with a ministry concern swelling through my mind and heart.  It is interesting how burdens seem to take on different characteristics for us.  I feel many burdens in ministry that are simply burdens of the mind.  They hold a place in my thoughts for processing and may even give me a headache as I think upon them.  They are often burdens requiring calculated thought, logic, and problem solving.  They may even be suitable for the old “pros and cons” assessment.

Sometimes there are burdens of the heart which seem to manifest themselves through emotion.  These are those burdens that may result in a tug of heartstrings, sympathy, empathy, compassion or heart-ache, and often all at the same time.

Then there are burdens that prey upon our whole being.  They fall under all possible categories of expression. Burdens that pressure the intellect as well as the heart in ways that are difficult to articulate.  My bones feel weakened, my body fatigued, my mind spinning in thought, my eyes burning in concentration, my heart breaking and my stomach in knots.

I feel just such a burden.

I was standing in the kitchen looking out the window and thinking that I was actually feeling that feeling of pressure upon my shoulders that people often speak of when describing turmoil.  It’s not that I haven’t felt that before, it just always amazes me how literally physical it feels.  I was standing there thinking it feels like a tremendous weight pressing down upon me.  I was thinking that I actually felt as though there were two hands - one on each shoulder - pressing upon my frame.  

As I stood there I finally decided to call in the troops, so to speak.  I thought for a moment and decided I needed to let someone else know that I needed prayer.  I know prayer works. I know prayer matters.  I know there are those who will pray for me in a moment, and they don’t even have to know the details, they’ll just do it.

I sent texts to four of these people.  My text was a generic, non-alarming text requesting prayers of wisdom.  Within minutes... nay, even seconds I began receiving replies of prayer affirmation, each with its own personal words reflecting four distinct prayer personalities in the texts.

I’m so thankful for such people in my life.  I must admit that I was quickly misty eyed to see the response texts back to back.  The burden is still there, but with the prayers of others, it is significantly more bearable.

I write this with no particular intention of conveying any universal truth to possible readers, but rather as a means to express myself - I’ve grown to understand that people identify more with our weaknesses than our strengths.  We Christians should always remember the importance of interceding on behalf of others and seeking such intercession when needed, which is really more often than not.

“For this reason also, since the day we heard this, we haven’t stopped praying for you. We are asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, so that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him, bearing fruit in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God.”  - Colossians 1:9-10