Jesus of the 2nd Chance

So I recently learned about this cool non-profit called People of the Second Chance. They're pretty much what they sound like, on the site it states -

"People of the Second Chance gives voice to a scandalous movement of radical grace in life and leadership. We challenge the common misconceptions about failure and success and stand with those who have hit rock bottom in their personal and professional lives. We are a community that is committed to stretch ourselves in the areas of relational forgiveness, personal transparency, and advocate for mercy over judgment."

Hmm, sounds a bit like this Jewish dude from way back in the day. I really love the idea of reaching out in grace and mercy to those who have failed, who have screwed up, who have hit the very bottom. I can't really think of much else that is more Christ-like.

I love that Jesus spent time with the sluts and whores, the disabled and lower-class. I love that he met people where they were, not demanding that they rise to a certain standard before he offered them truth, life, healing and restoration. I love that Jesus said -

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

I love Luke 22:32. I love that Jesus knew Peter would fail, that he would betray him. But yet even there he is praying for Peter beyond his failure, already looking past Peter's betrayal to his 2nd chance.

And I love that he's not surprised when I screw up or fall short. That even in the midst of my failures he's there working with me through the process. That with unfailing mercy he's brought me through my second chance . . . and third . . . and ninety-seventh . . .

One of the most shameful things in our culture is to fail at something. We use failures as warnings, to frighten people into working better or trying harder. We especially scorn those who have failed because of their own selfishness, laziness, or incompetence. But maybe, as those who have received a second chance, we are uniquely qualified to share with others that failure is not the end of the story. But it can be a beautiful beginning.

Hope Deferred . . . Then Misplaced . . . And Finally Abandoned

Saturday night I climbed into bed, tried to calm my racing mind, then finally woke up my wife and asked her to pray for me. I was trembling, drowning in anxiety and suffocated by feelings of dread. Apparently panic attacks really aren't that fun.

It's such a humbling experience to be so helpless. Reason and logic were not sufficient to overwhelm the crushing weight of anxiety. I could do nothing but ask my wife to hold me, and ask Father to rescue me. The next morning I woke with my mind calm, but questions as to why this happened.

It's true that work has been a little more stressful lately (compounded of course by the fact that I thoroughly hate it). With summer coming to an end I'm facing my usual "oh crap here comes months of winter" depression. Our lease on our apartment is coming to an end and they don't want to let us renew it for less than a year. I was hoping to be out of Syracuse in less than a year, but I really hate the thought of moving to a new apartment for the third time in four years.

But still, I think it may be something deeper. I think this may stem from a very damaging agreement that I made years ago. It may be the result of a subtle thought that has gradually grown into an actual life philosophy.

In college I majored in Economics and minored in Finance. I took a couple courses that were about "Financial Planning" (I even briefly considered this as a career). A financial planner is just someone who works with a person to help them be financially prepared for various life goals. They'll help the person with a variety of matters, including having money saved for retirement, college for their children, etc.

One of the first things you learn in Financial Planning classes is the idea of "managing expectations". This just means making sure your client's expectations are realistic. If your client expects a 30% return, but their investments return 20%, they'll be disappointed. If you help them realize that a 15% return would be excellent, then a 20% return would be a very nice surprise.

I had no trouble grasping this concept, because it was something I had been doing pretty much my entire life. I learned at a young age that reality rarely (if ever) lived up to my expectations. I learned that hoping for something was simply a precursor to disappointment. And so I taught myself to expect little, to plan for the worst, and then to be pleasantly surprised if something good happened.

Little did I realize that this approach to life was self-sabotaging at best. Little did I realize that all those verses in the Bible about hope were actually important.

I'm learning that living without hope isn't a way to defend myself from being disappointed. It's not even living. Yes, at times it seems that disappointment and heartache is inevitable. And maybe sometimes it is. But maybe hope isn't what sets me up for disappointment. Maybe hope is what brings me through it.

I'm going to try to let go of "hoping" for a specific desired outcome. I've been "hoping" to get out of New York. I've been "hoping" to find a job I don't hate. I've been "hoping" the Yankees win another World Series this year.

But what if my hope is not an outcome, but a person? What if my hope isn't for something to happen, but rather for someone to be intimately involved in whatever my future brings?

"Managing expectations" has been my code phrase for trading hope for a bleak resignation that life brings only disappointments. I'm trying to let go of managing my expectations. I'm even going to try to let go of all my expectations, other than the constant hope that Father will be with me through it all.

Because if Father is part of my future, how can I not have hope?