Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Crucible

cru·ci·ble [kroo-suh-buhl]; noun; 1. a container of metal or refractory material employed for heating substances to high temperatures.
There is a play by Arthur Miller that shares the same name as this post, yet that is as far as my post and the play are alike. I refer to a phenomenon in my life where multiple trials and tribulations coincide, putting me under almost unbearable pressures over (thankfully) short periods of time. I am also thankful that I don't find myself in The Crucible often, yet that refers to history only. It could change at any moment.

Trials are a given in life. When life becomes perfect, I'll assume I'm either in an extended dream state, plugged into a poorly programmed Matrix construct, or enjoying the glories of Heaven. I've never naively assumed that life should have no problems and have reluctantly accepted their presence, yet I do think it is generally abnormal when they pile up.

I've recently spent a short while in The Crucible. You find yourself rethinking decisions you've made and wishing that there was something you could do to reduce the heat. It's a time for second-guessing and irrational thinking. It's a time when you seriously consider major life changes with no more reason than it would allow you to escape the present turmoil. Escape, of course, is a short-term change and fixes nothing, but when you are in The Crucible, you don't care. Emotionally speaking, to me the feeling would resemble someone sitting on your chest, making every breath difficult. All you want is for the pressure to be gone and to breathe one unhindered breath.

In the midst of The Crucible, I look for a quiet place where I can evaluate my circumstances and see them in uncolored light. I strive to find a moment where I can center my life and recalibrate my senses. I remind myself of the central truths that are foundational to me. I remind myself that the present state is temporal. I look for purpose in the midst of the dark cloud. I do any of a number of things sharing the purpose of sweeping away the false notions that begin to fill my thinking.

In the end, I find that The Crucible does to me what it does to more elemental things. Impurities are burned up and I later leave it cleaner than I entered it. I'm not quite pure enough yet that I react favorably to it from the start, leading me to believe that I still have lessons to learn. I just need to become a better student.

 And I will put this third into the fire, and refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. They will call upon my name, and I will answer them. I will say, ‘They are my people’; and they will say, ‘The Lord is my God.’”  ~  Zechariah 13:9

Monday, July 11, 2011

Musings on Music, Lofty Dreams, and Responsibility

If you can truthfully say, "Music has played a big part in my life", you will find yourself in the company of most others that have been born in the last 40-50 years. Music is a big part of the American experience, touching the lives of most of us in some way. For some, it is more integral, more essential, more pivotal. For others, it is more or less a soundtrack to our life's story. A song brings back a flood of memories, linking to to a time, an event years ago. Those of us who love music have this in common, yet the soundtrack is as varied as the art form itself is.

Many of those in the smaller subset of music lovers, those for whom music is more pivotal, long to weave music into their daily lives in a bigger way. Young men and a few young women want to join the ranks of music creators and performers, those who are on the cutting edge of that scene to which so many of us are connected. I am one of those and have been since my early teen years. For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a musician. I've wanted to perform, to give to others what has meant so much to me for so many years. Yet it seems that adulthood responsibility pushed my musical aspirations aside years ago. You'd think that the passing years would have tempered that desire with reality, but not so. It's as strong now as it has ever been. Reality is there, but I try and ignore it. I am deep into my adult years, almost certainly past the halfway point of my life, so reality is there to tell me my ideas are childish and unrealistic. Yet they remain there, nagging me and disagreeing with everything that seems realistic and sensible.

Some have their dreams tempered by a lack of initiative and/or a lack of talent. When I was in high school, a friend and I were going to start "a band". One Christmas, our parents bought us a bass (him) and an electric guitar (me). I set out to learn what I could teaching myself. I would play all the time, but my playing was mostly without focus and definitely without a more knowledgeable, guiding hand. My friend, on the other hand, didn't practice, didn't learn anything, and didn't even know how to tune his own guitar. When we would get together and "practice", he would noodle around with no real purpose and trying to teach him something was like trying to communicate with a foreigner. He seemed happy in this state, whereas I was frustrated with my own (and his) lack of progress. Other opportunities didn't show up, so my early aspirations withered on the vine. At each stage of my life though, I have retooled the dream to fit that particular stage. I have continued to play the guitar (now the bass, my true love), and have made slow progress. Skill-wise, I find myself where I should have been 30 years ago. I have been, as the saying goes, "all dressed up with no place to go."



Some weeks ago, I read parts of a book my wife had been reading. It had been written by a young woman back in the 60s, Ann Kiemel, and was titled, "I'm Out to Change My World." I found it quite inspiring. She spoke of hopes and dreams and desires with a confidence that was certain to see them become reality. That kind of thinking makes unlikely things happen, I thought. I began to wonder how such a positive attitude would work for me. If I set lofty goals, then began to work to make them happen as if my efforts were all it would take, would they happen? Ann made me believe they would.
Traditionally speaking, I'm a realist. Not a pessimist, nor an optimist. I look at the environment I'm in, weigh the evidences I can see, factor in unseen variables, then draw a conclusion as to an outcome. Some would say that is slightly pessimistic. It doesn't factor in certain unseen forces and powers. Ann's thinking always factored in the unseen variable of God's power. She always knew that her strengths would bring nothing to pass, but God's limitless power and his boundless means can make anything happen. OK, I thought. I believe God can do all this. My question is will He do all of this for me and my dreams?

This, I feel, is an important question. God's will is not bent by ours. Our prayers do not cause him to shift his purposes. He already knows what we can do, what we will do, and how our lives can bring His kingdom the most glory. For me to think that I can pray hard enough or wish for something hard enough or even work hard enough and it will come to pass is naive. It doesn't take into account God's ultimate purpose for our lives and how that purpose might differ from ours.

It is in our warped human nature to think that it only takes good intentions to please God. We feel that we can make choices that please us, and as long as our intentions are basically good, God is pleased as well. Not true. God will always make the best choice for us. We rarely do. Our choices are poisoned with selfish motives. Apart from aligning ourselves with the will of God, even our best choices and intentions are tainted with this self-centeredness, disguised behind what we try and convince ourselves is a saintly motive.

Psalm 37:4 says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." We want to believe that "delighting ourselves in the Lord", whatever that means, is all it takes to make our dreams come true. I'm pretty sure that's not what it means. God is not a genie, hanging out in his heavenly bottle or lamp, waiting for us to summon him with our delight in order to make our dreams become reality. I believe this means that delighting ourselves in the Lord changes our desires. It makes us want different things, all of which the Lord is willing to freely give. We no longer will want those things that feed our selfishness. By making the Lord as the source of our delight, we begin to see through the charade where we try and convince ourselves that we want to be rich and famous for no other reason than to be a better witness and example of God's goodness. A better witness, my foot! We want it for ourselves, to feed our selfishness and to elevate ourselves to a position where we are bigger and better than other people. It's hard to be that honest with our inner man. We want to believe that we are better than that and that there is a nobility in what we desire. We trust the opinions of that inner man. He is, after all, our favorite person. Yet, he lies.
And now an example from my life...

On several occasions in this very forum, I've joked about wanting Adam Clayton's job. I've mentioned taking over when he decides to retire. Though these things were mentioned thoroughly in jest, I'm compelled to acknowledge that there is a tiny thread of truth in them. The fact that it is more likely that I would sprout wings and fly that get Adam's job doesn't change the fact that deep in the secret recesses of my heart, I wish it would be true. There is still something in me that wishes that a miraculous turn of events would bring it or something like it to pass. I think about what a great idea this would be. I think about how this position would allow me to proclaim God's name in the public square. I think about the great example I could be to so many people who could really use a good example. I think about how absurd this all sounds.

Luke 16:10 reads: "If you are faithful in little things, you will be faithful in large ones. But if you are dishonest in little things, you won't be honest with greater responsibilities." (New Living Translation) This sheds a lot of light on the flawed thinking I use in my musings. An elevated position or an opportunity to better use certain gifts or abilities doesn't guarantee that we will use them to honor and glorify God. "You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much." Responsibility doesn't spring out of great opportunity. It is born in small opportunities, where it is nourished by small rewards, small gains, and humble circumstances. A mighty oak doesn't rise out of an acorn. It rises out of a smaller oak, which rises out of a sapling, which rises out of an acorn.

So if you haven't been exactly faithful over the small things in your life, give up on your lofty dreams, at least for now. Work on your contentment. Work on being the best you can be where you are right now, whether that be as a CEO or a greeter at Wal-Mart. Delight yourself in God's goodness that is evidenced in your everyday life. When you can do this, you will stop looking for these great but unrealistic opportunities. There's no telling what might happen when the Lord sees you being faithful in the small things, but the sky is the limit.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Heaviness of Failure

I just spent some time today reading different "inspirational" quotes about failure. There are many perspectives, but most every one addressed the inevitability of failure in this life. Many paraphrased, in one way or another, the notion that simply not succeeding was not failure, but not trying was. Others focused on the learning aspects of failure.

One of the most interesting ones was attributed to Confucius: "To be wrong is nothing unless you continue to remember it."

In general, it seems people need encouragement concerning the failure in their lives. I need this myself on occasion. It's nice to know that your failures are not defining moments. It's nice to know that the chance for success is always right there next to failure and the only way to avoid both is never to try. Other quotes addressed that particular thing--not trying--as the true definition of failure.

Simply not trying doesn't seem to be a fitting definition of failure, or at least is not a practical working definition. We all try and fail and it still seems and feels like failure no matter how you slice it. We all know what failure is. We aim, we miss, we fail. Whatever the reason, whether it be due to poor planning, poor training, superior competition or some unknown factor, we know failure when we feel it. Therefore, although not trying is failure in one regard, trying and missing is also failure, yet it is not the type of failure we should be ashamed of. It is a natural consequence of of life and of trying and striving and attempting to make our lives better. It should be our goal to not view both types of failure the same way.

This being true, then we do make choices and we do make mistakes. Our judgments, assessments and appraisals of life's situations are always imperfect. They are often clouded by bias, ignorance and a selfish refusal to see things as they really are. Even on our best day, when we make the best decisions possible, outside forces act against us and our perfect aim ends up falling short of the target. Perfection is not within our grasp.

Ultimately, we should strive for perfection, even knowing we can never attain it. Then when we fall down, we get up and try again, knowing that there is at least one more path we should avoid in our endeavors. Aiming for perfection while knowing we can never reach it isn't necessarily pointless. Aiming high, you will always do better than not aiming at all. In striving for perfection, we may not be able to reach it, but our best efforts will bring us closer and closer with every attempt. As a musician, you do this. In learning a piece of music, most of us start out with a very imperfect rendering, practicing over and over, getting better with each attempt. Hopefully, eventually, after hundreds of play-thrus, the mistakes disappear or are lessened to an insignificant level.

So failure helps us to move toward perfection, and as long as we don't store up our failures like trophies on a shelf, we can't be crippled by them. Confucius pretty much had it right: "To be wrong is nothing unless you continue to remember it."