The Farther Along Blog

Was there meaning in the little things that often went unseen? Was my impact valued? Well I suppose it all depends on my point of view. From the business side of things, I sincerely don’t know how that work was viewed, and to a point I don’t care. I can’t care because I will never have answers. 

It’s still not the whole story

It’s not your story

It’s not my story

I can’t stop crying when I think of those days.

I fight the regrets, overthinking the things I didn’t do. I am haunted by the opportunities I missed, the nights I was too busy, too tired, too distracted.

I can’t stop crying. Why didn’t I do better?

This year was a volcano, seeing challenges steadily rising up up like lava and ash spurting into the sky. Did you know the average length of a volcanic eruption is 49 days? That means this season is the equivalent to four volcanoes erupting. That feels right to me.

This volcanic season met a hurricane of a tornado, and often the result was total and absolute chaos.

I was driving down a winding road that was freshly covered with a layer of snow. It had been coming down for about an hour, and the roads were starting to get bad. My AirPods were in, the music was shuffling, and I was hopeful my twenty-two year old pickup truck would find enough traction to keep me moving.

One song finished and another began. The tune was familiar so my mind wandered for a few seconds. For reasons unknown, my attention snapped toward the song as these words played; 

They say I'm caught up in a dream

Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes

One of the most difficult moments I’ve experienced took place on a December day in 2007. As I sat at an intersection, I saw a nineteen year old girl named Kat sprint across a busy street. She had a near miss from a car racing down the 50 mile per hour road, and was laughing as she made it to the median. She and her friend stood next to my car. I was the first car in the left turn lane. Without warning, she unexpectedly decided to cross the rest of the street. She was immediately struck by a fast moving car. A couple of disorienting moments later, I stood over her lifeless body.

Over the past several years I have become more comfortable telling this story. For nearly a decade, I almost never shared this story in its entirety. I’d occasionally mention that it happened, or even share some details, but was reluctant to go deep into what happened. The story was too intense, too incredibly personal and straight up painful to tell.

The phrase “why so serious?” is such a good one., but it can be jarring. In the 2008 film The Dark Knight, the Joker, the late Heath Ledger gives a legendary performance. In one scene, he is going on a monologue about his father. He says:

Do you wanna know how I got these scars? My father was a drinker...and a fiend. And one night, he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not...one...bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me, and he says, "Why so serious?" He comes at me with the knife - "Why so serious?" He sticks the blade in my mouth - "Let's put a smile on that face!" And... why so serious?

Right now, as you read this, you have the opportunity to re-imagine the days ahead. To resume would be a mistake. It’s time to hit reset. It’s time to reflect, refocus, and re-imagine the future.

Yet we know now what they didn’t know then.

Even in the darkest moments, hope never faded, the story wasn’t over, God was still writing His ending.

Life is often lived in the moments between tragedy and triumph.

My problem is there’s a downside of going all in on Easter. It can be steep. There are so many pastors, leaders, even volunteers who will spend these three days teaching, speaking, shaking hands (maybe), singing, greeting, caring for children and more. Most people will never really see the incredible drain on these ministry leaders as they pour themselves out to go “all in” on Easter.

We fight against the darkness. We fight when things seem hopeless. We fight against the lies that say “it’s over.”

It’s not over. You may be surrounded, but there’s more to this picture than what your eyes can see. Jesus has surrounded whatever is surrounding you.

I’ve dreamed about being part of a group of people who pushed past the barriers and limitations and actually engaged in the power of the God who called us into this thing to begin with. I have longed to be with a group of people who focused less on the people who were already following Jesus and instead mobilized those people to engage in the mission they were invited into.

I used to HATE when people talked about their mentors. I wondered why they were so special. Imagine my embarrassment when I realized the problem was actually me.

It is so easy in this life to spend our efforts being who others want us to be. I spent decades thinking I was a round peg in a square hole, while believing this was simply the life I was created to live.

They chose to enjoy the moment. To find joy in the wonder they were witnessing.

Their eyes could have drifted to themselves, their focus on their own circumstances.

Instead, they were delighted.

I refuse to allow the division, the disorientation, the garbage to marinate in my mind.

This is why I fight. This is why I turn to Jesus. I need truth.