Yah, but...

We've all heard people say it. We've said it ourselves. We might agree with a sentiment, but doubt its possibility. We might think something is too good to be true. We may wish for it, but feel too fearful to try.

Writer Jeff Goins says these words "Yeah, but..." can kill your dreams. I agree that they can be deadly words. At the very least they can immobilize us. I have done my share of giving in to fear or discouragement by using those words. I might say "YES!" in my heart to what I'm reading or hearing or imagining, but then immediately think of all the reasons why it won't happen or it can't work.

Does it have to be that way?

...

I love to mark books up when I read them. In fact, I often don't enjoy reading a book as much if I don't have a pen or a highlighter in hand to mark the best parts.

I have been known to scribble "YABUT" in the margin of books I was reading - my shorthand for "Yah, but..." Yah, this is good stuff, but I'm skeptical. Or this is wonderful, but I don't have the confidence to try it. Yah, I love this concept, but there are just too many obstacles.

Or there might be another reason - a pretty good one actually. I might read or hear something exciting. Yah, it may sound good on the surface, but I need to think it through a little more. Yah, I like this, but it doesn't line up with what I believe - which can then provide the catalyst for evaluating what I really believe. (Yes, I know that is a scary thought to many people, but I think it is very healthy to evaluate what I believe and why.)

...

Then something interesting happened...

Somewhere through the years, instead of my old "YABUT" I noticed that I was writing "YBH?" in the margin. "Yes, but how?" Yes, this is good stuff, but how can I do it? How can I work through the obstacles to make this happen? How can I figure out how to accomplish this in my own life?

...

Back to real life...

I'm happy to note that we seem to have incorporated my "YBH?" from my book-marking habit into some of our real-life circumstances. Case in point: When we suddenly felt "released" from this place three years ago... This peaceful lovely tree farm that had been our home for 40 years... We found ourselves so excited about getting the freedom to travel and explore and try living somewhere else. Not surprisingly, we began the "Yah, but..." line of reasoning. Yah, but we have a mortgage. Yah, but how will we sell this place? Yah, but do we really WANT to sell the place? Yah, but what about all of our stuff? Yah, but we have SO much stuff!!! Yah, but how will we finance any of this? Yah, but where will we live? Yah, but will we be able to let go of it all? Yah, but would we regret it?

They were good questions. Valid questions, valid concerns. Legitimate obstacles. These questions, these objections, these obstacles... had the power to stop us cold in our tracks, right where we were. Or they could push us to get creative in our problem-solving and our evaluating of the situation. We made the tough choice to begin the hard work of discovering what really mattered to us and then tackling those obstacles one at a time. I'm really glad we did.

Instead of getting stuck on "YABUT..." we moved on to "YBH?" Yes, we really want to do this thing, but how in the world can we make it happen? One step at a time, one obstacle at a time, we continue to assess what it was worth to us. Some things were hard to let go of, but we decided to make the sacrifice, to pay the price - for something even better. Other things we choose to keep, to cherish and protect and preserve and treasure.

...

So what about it? Is "Yah, but..." a bad thing? Always? Should I ever listen when I hear it?

I want to be alert to that phrase when I hear myself (or maybe even someone else) say it. I guess I want to pay attention to the sentiment, but not let it control my decisions. I think I'm learning to take an honest look at the objections. Are they valid? Is this a red flag I see? Is it there for good reason? Is it a warning?

Maybe I mostly want to be alert to whether I am using "Yah, but..." as an excuse for not doing something that I could or should be doing. Certainly there are obstacles, but have they become excuses or cause for whining or pity? Maybe I should set about the business of dealing with them. Maybe it's time to scratch out my "YABUT" from the edge of my page and think "YBH?" instead. "Yes, I love this idea enough that I want to figure out how to do it."

YES, but how?!?

　

　

One a day?

Piles. So many piles. 

Piles await my attention. 

I pile things up. Things that I need to deal with today. This week. But then I don't get it done today.  Or tomorrow.  I might not even get it done this week.  It gets piled on last week's pile. Before ya' know it, there's another pile from next week. The pile just keeps getting higher and higher.

What am I going to do about these piles? When am I going to take control of them? When indeed?

Maybe I need to tackle one pile each day. One is better than none. Even a small one is better than none.  I am trying to remind myself of the power of one.  I've tried it before and wrote about it here.

But how will I motivate myself to do it? How can I enforce it? Or maybe more importantly, how will I remember?

I don't suppose anybody else has this problem. I'm sure you don't pile things up and then forget about them. So how do you keep current on things that threaten to hang around and pile up? Do you have any tricks that might help me?

Stupid Sappy Sticky Stuff!!!

I just got all sticky! Again. I hate getting stuck!  It happens far too often.  You'd think I'd learn.

Nope, I'm not talking about getting bogged down with something. Instead I'm talking about getting all sticky and then getting stuck on everything else. There are lots of sticky things in life - pancake syrup, dried soda pop or Kool-aid, forgotten drips of ice cream, and the moms among us can think of a whole lot more - but maybe none so nasty sticky as tree sap, also known as pitch. Stupid sticky stuff!  Yuck!!! I really do hate the stuff. At our new place my lawn chairs keep getting attacked by sap dripping from the trees above - setting the stage for mega-doses of frustration. You'd think I'd learn to protect them - and I do try, but not always successfully.

Sure enough, the silent enemy sat lurking on the arm of my chair today, lying in wait for the next unsuspecting victim - who happened to be me. Once I discovered the damage, it was too late - even though it was only the beginning! I now had sap on my elbow - so since we live on a Christmas tree farm I headed for the bottle of pitch remover.  I scrubbed and scrubbed until I thought that I got rid of it and then re-scrubbed with soap and water to wash off the pitch remover. Alas! To my dismay I discovered sometime later that I had NOT indeed gotten rid of it all, but that there were still a couple spots that had now been generously transferred to the corner of my desk as I typed.

Go for the pitch remover.  AGAIN. Think we have it all off this time. Clean off the corner of the desk as well. Put everything away. Back to work. Oops! Still sticky corner and sticky elbow - although unsure this time which is villain and which is victim. Which is the stick-er and which is the stick-ee. Grrrr...

What in the world?!?!? Evidently, something is inferior and ineffective about my method of cleaning - even though I have gone back to the bottle numerous repeated times and although I have gotten more aggressive with each repeat. What am I to do? One side of the napkin that I grabbed to try to run interference is now sticking to the desk, the other side sticking to my elbow. In the meantime, my shirt has picked up a piece of the action as well (of course!) so now I also have to figure out how to handle such matters on a laundry level.

How frustrating! Makes me want to stomp my feet and scream about how much I hate sap. Yah, I'm pretty sure that would help me feel so much better and would instantly solve everything.

...

Then I start thinking about other messes and other times that I get annoyed or stuck. I get into a sticky situation which then messes up everything else that I try to do. Over-commitments, unrealistic and unmet expectations, not getting my own way, not getting enough sleep, too much clutter, too little patience, my tendency to control things and fix people, my need to be right, frustration and irritability spilling out in harsh words... all of these can land me in sappy messes. The harder I try to clean it up and move on, the more places my mess seems to show up.

Why do I let myself get into such sticky spots? And how do I extricate myself without causing further unnecessary damage.

Often the trigger is something beyond my control but there are times when I could have avoided the whole mess if I had paid more careful attention before sitting myself down. Healthy boundaries, regular de-cluttering and other wise practices can be good preventive measures, but must be regularly monitored and repaired when necessary because boundaries will be busted, clutter builds up again, and selfishness surfaces quickly.

As for a solution once I have gotten into the sticky mess, well, I'm afraid I still don't know of any pitch remover that really works magic. Sometimes I have to work hard to scrub away the mess, but I am really sad to say that sometimes I guess I need to just let that sticky sap wear off - even though it will take time and I do not like that feeling. When that lesson is applied to my other messes, it is really hard for a fixer like me to just "let it go" and let things work themselves out but sometimes I have to. 

...

Sure enough; that's what I've been learning lately - that I can't always fix things.  Drats!  That sometimes I just have to accept what is.  Phooey.  That's not comfortable; not comfortable at all.

Adventure and Inconvenience

“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered.
An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.”  
          ~ G. K. Chesterton

Rob Bell and a new American Christianity - a book review

I have previously read several books by Rob Bell and have now read a book about him by James K. Wellman, Jr. - entitled rob Bell and a new American Christianity.  Before being asked to write about Bell, Wellman had little knowledge of him, but has done a commendable job researching and pulling together an overview of Bell's life and ministry, but particularly of his spiritual journey.  However, this book chronicles not only Rob Bell's story, but also at least one slice of history of American Christendom.

Wellman tackles several of the labels that others have attempted to hang on Bell (i.e. subversive, celebrity, radical, heretic) and investigates each one - and in fact, wrote entire chapters around some of them.  The result of his work strikes me as a fair and helpful summary of Rob Bell's theology and his ministry methods.  I appreciate the balance between questions like "Did Bell go too far?" (p. 94) and "Did Bell go far enough?" (p. 109)

Through the years I have watched the nooma videos, I have read Bell's books, I have visited Mars Hill, I have stood in a little huddle with him as he prayed for my daughter and son-in-law who were heading off to India.  Yes, I have generally appreciated Rob Bell's teaching all the while realizing that he is just a man, an imperfect person - so I don't automatically believe or agree with everything he says.

This biography provided me with a time line of Bell's journey that in several ways has paralleled my own.  As I continue to wrestle with my own study of theology, it was helpful to read again Bell's interpretation of the story of salvation.  He asks the question, "Does it begin with the fall?" and points out that our focus will be different depending on whether we start in the first or the third chapter of Genesis. 

I appreciate Bell's lofty view of God and I tend to agree with his assessment that "the God we construct is always too small."  Bell believes the gospel "is always and forever revealing itself in actions of charity whether inside or outside the church" but that it "can be distorted by dogma and obscured by those who seek to own it."  (p. 154)

I have learned some things from Rob Bell.  For example, I have been inspired to study carefully and to think responsibly.  His illumination of the Jewish culture in Jesus' time has encouraged me to dig into what a passage really meant within the original context.  I have also been challenged to believe the best about God but especially to go beyond belief and take action, to participate in the life of Jesus - in the word becoming flesh.  Since reading this book, I have been reminded of those lessons - and my sense of mission has been stirred and renewed.

So do I recommend the book?  To those who have been warned to stay away from Rob Bell and who are fearful of "contamination" I will not try to convince you to read it.  But if you might enjoy an outside perspective of Bell's theological journey, then yes, I would recommend it as a good read.