What Are You Looking For?
Yesterday at The Red we examined the first recorded words of Jesus in the book of John:
“What are you looking for?”
This sounds like a simple question. But when I directed at myself, I found it difficult to answer.
What am I looking for?
* * * * *
I think the main problem lies in trying to decipher the difference between what I’m looking for in life and what I’m striving for. I strive for money, but only because I don’t want to be confined by a lack of it (there’s a strange paradox). I strive for success because I’m looking for adulation or acceptance.
Sometimes the things I strive for are even the opposite of what I truly want: I strive for comfort but actually desire adventure.
Some people strive for sex, when what they really want is intimacy. Some go after revenge, but the core of what they want has to do with justice.
Are these all bad things? Of course not. But major disappointment ensues when someone spends a long period of time, perhaps even their entire life, striving for something they don’t really want. Because the thing is, most people, if they are dedicated and focused enough, will eventually get what they strive for.
What are you looking for?
Are you living a life that will help meet you discover the primary things you are looking for, things like love, joy and peace? Or when you reach the top of the mountain you’ve chose to climb, will you be disappointed by the view?
* * * * *
Henri Nouwen writes that “without a clear goal, we will always be distracted and spend our energy on secondary things.”
Maybe this is why it’s the first thing that Jesus asked his disciples. “What are you looking for?” He knew that if they couldn’t answer that question, they would be distracted and easily discouraged from persevering.
Incidentally, the disciples’ response to Jesus’s question is just as insightful:
“Where are you staying?”
That’s what they wanted: To follow. To discover more.
So, how about it? What are you looking for?
The Opposite of Love is not Hate
There are many things in my life of which I am not proud.
One of these things is that 99% of my friends are, more or less, exactly like me:
Male.
Caucasian.
Christian.
Straight.
They are, more or less, me, and I am, more or less, them. It begs the question: what kind of a person is friends only with themselves? Read more 
Go Through the Pain – Not Around It
Recently, at 8 Weeks in the Red, we’ve been trying some alternatives to church as usual.
This week, we spent about fifteen minutes meditating silently on a portion of Psalm 143:
I remembered the old days, went over all you’ve done, pondered the ways you’ve worked, Stretched out my hands to you, as thirsty for you as a desert thirsty for rain. Hurry with your answer, God! I’m nearly at the end of my rope. Don’t turn away; don’t ignore me! That would be certain death. If you wake me each morning with the sound of your loving voice, I’ll go to sleep each night trusting in you. Point out the road I must travel; I’m all ears, all eyes before you.
We sat there quietly, eyes closed, hands in a fist in front of us. In my tightly squeezed hand was something I knew I needed to give up. And as the verse was read to us again, we all opened our hands.
Release.
* * * * *
We took some time to hear from one of the men in the group. He shared his experience of hitting midlife and realizing there were areas of pain he had never adequately worked through. In fact, when these pains surfaced at different times in his life, he managed to go around, and never through.
“Healing,” he said, “requires going through the pain. Not around it.”
I listened to him, thought about how many times in my own life that I had dug a nice hole in the dirt and buried my pain, my questions, my doubt.
* * * * *
Robert had posted on our Facebook page that week:
What is unique about the Christian God and emotional pain is that the pain has somewhere to go – not just out to a person, or a group, good as that is, but into the cross, into the Christ of the cross. The Gospel makes a provision for the processing of emotional pain through a suffering savior – When you see Jesus dying on the cross to receive your pain you realize that your pain has a destination – it has a place to go, does not need to be held on to because there is someone who knows what it is, what it feels like, and suffered the ultimate pain of the cross so that we can experience freedom.
I thought this was an interesting take on Christianity.
And it made me wonder some things:
What were your “old days” like? What road lies before you? What do you need to release in order to move forward?
Christian or not, what practices have you found helpful for processing emotional pain and finding healing? Maybe by sharing your process you can help someone else who is reading the blog today.
Arguing With the Air
The other day I was innocently driving along when suddenly I realized I had been arguing with someone in my mind over something that happened about a year ago, something I never brought up with them and never planned on bringing up. I was really letting them have it, and in my mind I felt vindicated because they were finally feeling terrible for the way they treated me.
I am a very, very disturbed individual.
Do you spend as much time as I do thinking about the future, reflecting on a recent rejection, regretting something said (or written) the day before, or wishing things could be just a little bit different?
If the brainwaves in your noggin are as overactive as mine, check out Henri Nouwen’s thoughts on thought and prayer:
Our minds are always active. We analyze, reflect, daydream, or dream. There is not a moment during the day or night when we are not thinking. You might say our thinking is “unceasing.” Sometimes we wish that we could stop thinking for a while; that would save us from many worries, guilt feelings, and fears. Our ability to think is our greatest gift, but it is also the source of our greatest pain. Do we have to become victims of our unceasing thoughts? No, we can convert our unceasing thinking into unceasing prayer by making our inner monologue into a continuing dialogue with our God, who is the source of all love.
Let’s break out of our isolation and realize that Someone who dwells in the center of our beings wants to listen with love to all that occupies and preoccupies our minds.
Join us this week at The Red as we talk about prayer.
