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Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Unshackled Moments ~ February 1, 2017 ~ Perspective Matters

Yesterday evening on the way to the jail to visit with someone I received a text from Leah telling me that my stepson had been in a car accident but that she thought he was OK. I am so very grateful that she was right and that he wasn't hurt, although I suspect he'll be sore. The part of the story that got stuck on replay this morning in my mental Mp3 was Leah telling me that he started the conversation with her to tell her about what happened with a simple and vague text saying I can't catch a break, followed a short while later with photos of his wrecked car.

I can't catch a break. That's how he felt, and I can certainly understand where he's coming from. My stepson is an awesome young man who works hard to take care of himself and his son. He's smart and has a good work ethic and is very capable, but for some reason it seems that the dominoes refuse to fall just right for him since finishing his Air Force service. I'm sure that he feels like every time he gets close to the point where he can touch bottom with his head above water there comes another wave to not only cover him again but also to push him back out toward the deep.

Maybe I am projecting because that's how I feel for him or how I would feel in that situation. I don't think he is wallowing in self pity, but I do believe he is weary and discouraged. Who wouldn't be? These are discouraging and fearful times. A lot of things just don't seem to be going right or are falling apart, and it is so easy to imagine that what is not bad is turning that way. It's natural to see things that way, it's easy, and it feels realistic and honest. It's so much a part of our life that we aren't shocked or surprised when someone expresses how they are feeling after another set back or in the face of anxiety and stress by saying here we go again, or I can't catch a break, or when it rains it pours, or we are living in a dystopian society.

OK wait, I must admit when I heard that last one it caught me off guard. My first thought was really how can any American believe that to be true? Dystopian society. America. Seriously? Dystopia - noun: an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one. Now I understand how some can say, with a straight face that America is dystopian. Its how they imagine the world to be due to their great discouragement.

And please don't misunderstand me. I am not saying imagined as in they are making things up. I am saying imagined, as in: 1. form a mental image or concept of - synonyms: visualize, envisage, envision, picture, see in the mind's eye; 2. suppose or assume -synonyms: assume, presume, expect, take it, presuppose; suppose, think (it likely), dare say, surmise, believe, be of the view, figure. Imagined is a great word for how we see the world, our lives and reality. It is the assumptions and deductions that we make based on our perceptions of reality.

Reality exists. It is real. But we aren't realistic, and we can't see, feel or experience reality, not truly. Our perceptions of reality are illusions, imagined, because we make deductions and conclusions and assumptions based on our experiences, which we never clearly see from all perspectives and objectively, and can't rise above to see from the outside. Observation from within the problem skews the results. That's why we can have Christians in America crying persecution over being picked on or called a name or mocked on social media while in other countries people sit in prison and will die for their faith today. That's why in a country where it is almost impossible to starve to death, where there's an emergency room not far from the majority and in which even the poorest and the criminal can receive care (unlike countries where people are watching their children die from easily treated sickness or starve because there are no provisions), where both sides of the political spectrum feel threatened and begin crying totalitarian and dictator when first Obama and then Trump begin wielding their pens signing executive orders that are questionable and disliked (meanwhile in other countries with real totalitarian dictators political prisoners starve and leaders are slaughtering thousands in political oppression and genocide), and where free people able to speak their minds can truly feel and believe that we have reached a point where everything is unpleasant and bad and call it dystopian while with the same breath try to advocate for the thousands upon thousands of people trying to enter the country because it would mean hope and a better life.

I am not making fun. I am serious. It's our perspective from the place of pain and fear and discouragement that makes for dystopia in our life. My stepson felt overwhelmed and discouraged and battered by life (this is my imagining of his feelings, my assumption based on my perspective of what I heard and saw and not a direct statement from the observed), and yet regarding the same situation his mother and I rejoiced greatly. No, we weren't happy to hear about the wreck or rejoicing over his suffering and discouragement. We rejoiced because he was not hurt and neither was anyone else. We rejoiced because his car can still be driven and the other vehicle wasn't damaged badly. We rejoiced that He is OK. It could have been so much worse, totaled cars and hospitals and funeral parlors. But I don't blame him for not going there first.

My father left the country Sunday for a missions trip. He told me Saturday that I contributed to the missions by giving him peace of mind that things would be taken care of here. I had volunteered to care for his animals, among other things, while he is gone. Sunday, before he even arrived anywhere beyond our borders, I learned of mechanical issues with my mom's van that Leah and I, as well as my brother and his family, use. Monday, Dad's trip barely begun,  one of his bird dogs broke her chain, got loose and killed some laying hens and destroyed the chicken coop they were in. My natural response is to feel like I failed and let Dad down, I failed to clear the blocks before the race even got fully started. But my mom's first instinct was to be grateful it wasn't the horses that had gotten out, hurt or killed, etc.

There are pessimists and optimists and people who call themselves realists. The latter are usually pessimists who claim not to be negative but rather real. We can't be realists. We aren't capable. But we can be close, or at least make the effort to be objective and see the big picture. But that doesn't mean that we will, or have to, become pessimists or negative in the name of keeping it real. I am not an advocate of the power of positive thinking in any way, and Pollyanna suffered. Positive thinking will neither prevent nor eliminate our pain.

If you look around your life, home, country, etc. and see utopia, you're delusional and living in an imagined extreme that isn't even close to the reality that we can not completely observe. But, while that is true, so is the opposite. If you look around your life, home, country, etc. and see dystopia, you're delusional and living in an imagined extreme that doesn't actually exist. Positive thinking is not the answer to our discouragement and suffering, but perspective does matter and affects things.

I know this is getting long, but please bear with me for an example from my life. This is why I can relate to my stepson's discouragement. Just the facts.....

Through running from God, rebellion, addictions, etc. I destroyed my life and razed my future. I spent 7 1/2 years in prison. But God worked healing, freedom and restoration. I got clean and sober, began living in service and ministry. Things improved. I got a job that, with my wife's salary, came close to paying our bills and had a future. The ministry God called me to begin to grow and become established. Things looked like they were getting good and heading toward hope.

Then disaster struck. My past left me vulnerable. I found myself in an adverse legal situation facing false accusations I had fought hard to protect myself from through change in lifestyle, accountability, rebuilding trustworthiness, showing through my life and actions that I am not the man I once was, etc. Years of effort rebuilding my reputation were wiped away in an instant. Relationships were lost. People jumped to the conclusion of smoke means fire. I lost my job. I suffered through reliving an experience I never believed I would face again and having the PTSD symptoms I  had almost completely found healing from resurfacing, and I've struggled with those symptoms since. Some of the damage done to my reputation and relationships have gotten worse and have yet to be repaired in the two plus years that have followed. The stress overflowed to my wife who had to deal with crap because of her relationship with me that I never wanted to expose her to.

In the meantime, my wife's health has deteriorated. She suffered a serious heart attack and developed an autoimmune disease. She has had to struggle with the pain and anxiety and limitations of a weakened body and immune system, and (selfishly) I have had an increase in anxiety and discomfort caused by having to observe her suffer while being powerless to make it better. I have had to face the fear of losing the love of my life so soon after God gave her to me. These are facts, and seem so negative and overwhelming and discouraging. They lead naturally to the questions of when will I ever be free of my past and when will the suffering ever end?

These are also facts over the same events and time period. God protected me and my family, and the attack against me did not prosper. The legal issue was proven false and squashed in a short time and at little cost. The vast majority of damage to relationships and my reputation was restored in even less time. The ministry was not destroyed and actually continues to grow. Both Leah and I have grown closer to each other and to God and learned even more to rely on Him. I witnessed my wife live through a heart attack and her health improve. She was treated despite our lack of resources. Her illness has not destroyed her life, spirit or ability to care for others. Despite losing my job, we have had our needs met and are secure in that continuing. The last few years have been some of the best of my life, and many relationships and burnt bridges have been rebuilt.

Life is hard but good. There has  been suffering, but there has also been blessing. We do not live in heaven or utopia, but all is not lost and all is not bad. Living in the extremes of delusional optimism leads to disaster and heartache when the illusion finally falls apart. Living in the extremes of pessimism and negativity leads to hopelessness and misery as our fears and pain cause us to lose perspective.

There is and will be suffering. This world will never be utopian or right as long as the effects of sin and the curse continue to reign. But when we choose to look past our pain and fear, we can still find evidence of love. We can still see that there is goodness fighting against the tide of evil in our lives and in the world. In relationship with God, we can find comfort in the midst of suffering, we can see protection from the worst case scenario and the truth that life is not truly all bad and that there can be purpose and good come from even the worst of situations. There is no evil or pain that can overcome the love of God when we embrace the latter instead of focusing on the former. And in relationship with Him we have the sure expectation that one day the suffering will finally end to be replaced with perfect peace, fullness of joy, unhindered expression of love and understanding of the big picture that we can not see. Perspective matters. If we focus on the solution and look for the hand of love we can find it and we can be a part of its expression in the world. Or we can focus on the fear and the problem and live overwhelmed and struggling to breathe.



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