Being Right

Walter Sobchak: Am I wrong?
The Dude: No you're not wrong.
Walter Sobchak: Am I wrong?
The Dude: You're not wrong Walter. You're just an asshole.
Walter Sobchak: Okay then.




I used to think it would be nice to have the answer key to life, the universe, and everything.  Trying to maneuver through life using only instinct and guesswork has always been uncomfortable for me.  Everything would be so much easier if I had something that told me exactly what to do and say.

And I've approached much of my Christian life the same way.  I tried to use the Bible as a book of answers that could solve any and all of my issues or predicaments.  The whole point of being a Christian seemed to be to get all the right answers so I could live the right way.  Those who professed to have the answers seemed to be the most spiritually mature.

But eventually I began to realize something.  Having more answers didn't make you a better person.  Even when I felt like I had a lot of the whole God-thing figured out, my life was a mess.  And I began to see it in others as well.  Talking a good game loses its luster when you start to see through the cracks of the facade into a person's broken life.

So now I was really lost.  If getting all the answers wasn't the point, what the hell was I doing?  Where was I going?  What did I have to show for all the time and effort invested into getting it all figured out?

Why worship being right when you can be right and still be an asshole?

It was really in the midst of this confusion and loss that Father gently and quietly began to invite me into something else.  Something that was even better than having the answer key to life.  He began to show me how my desires were misguided and how there was something much better than what I had been looking for.

He invited me to know a Person instead of a theology, to know a Father who loves me beyond my comprehension, to know a Jesus who is actively at work around me and asking me to join in.

It is, in some ways, a much more difficult path to walk.  I like concrete solutions to problems.  I am somewhat of a linear thinker.  I like to have a toolbox full of principles that I can use to fix any situation.  Learning to hear Father's voice and walk alongside him in everyday life can be scary at times.  Letting go of my need to control things has been a difficult transition.

But you could not pay me to go back to my old rule-driven, paint-by-numbers religious life.  Knowing all the answers in the world can not give me a fraction of the peace as enjoying a quiet moment with Father.  Life is more unsettled now but it is finally life.

And this has really begun to work through into other areas of my life.  I'm less concerned about being the person who is right, and more interested in truly hearing other people.

I've begun to realize that to have really meaningful dialogue, all participants need to at least consider the possibility that they're wrong.  Once I let go of needing to be right about everything, my conversations with other people became so much more enjoyable and rewarding.  People have started to be more important that my own agenda.

And lest you think I'm trying to simply preach a different set of answers, let me assure you that this is all still very much a work in progress.  This is not something I think I am going to master in this lifetime.  Some days I do better at quieting the noise and distancing myself from distractions in order to create a space for Father to speak.  Some days (or weeks) I remain consciously unconscious, choosing meaningless busywork because it can be much easier.

But now we see another example of why knowing a Person trumps the quest for answers.  If I stumble on my walk with Father I am not given a failing grade and told to go study harder.  On a journey together there is grace to sustain me when I falter, there is loving correction when I screw up, and failure is never the final word.

A New Day

But I can't stop thinking

How you just keep making

Sense of all that was broken before

And I won't keep faking

'Cause I'm done with taking

'Cause with you, I'm not broken anymore

~Not Broken Anymore (Blue October)

I've never been one for New Year's resolutions.  I don't really get the concept of waking up one day, making a list of things to do better, and then magically becoming a different person.  I just don't think it works like that.

Sure, some Type A driven people probably thrive on that kind of thing.  But for me it would simply be a new list of things I failed at, a way to track my shortcomings.  Plus, on January 1st I'm usually deep in my sun-deprived winter blues and am only focused on surviving 'til April.  Suffice it to say, I am not really a goals-oriented person.

Still, though, the somewhat arbitrary distinction of a new year does provide at least the illusion of a fresh start.  And that may not be a bad thing.  Maybe that helps us understand grace a little better.  Maybe it lets us take stock of where we are and look ahead to the promise and potential of the future instead of being mired in the pain and disappointment of the past.

Ok, ok, that last sentence was a bit much.  But I do think the idea of a clean slate is important.  And maybe that's not something that should be relegated to only one day a year.  What if every day was the start of something new?  Yes, that's nauseatingly trite, but does that make it wrong?

It's easy to accumulate loads of baggage as we maneuver through our days, becoming weighed down by a thousand regrets.  And it's not that we should ignore our pasts, there are wonderful lessons to be learned there.  But maybe there's more than one way to see our past.

One option of course is to let ourselves be defined by all the things we wish we had done differently.  That's generally what I choose.  But those lyrics at the top of the page really resonated with me when I first heard them.  There's something amazing about the idea of Father taking everything that seems broken and showing us how he's fashioned something beautiful from our messes.

Even though I don't make resolutions, it's nice to be reminded that a new year is beginning.  And this year, I'm going to try to see each day as a fresh start, a chance to try again, an opportunity to learn how my mistakes and failures are woven into a beautiful tapestry by Father's hands. 

It's not easy, and frankly I don't really feel like doing it.  I read what I've just written and I can't honestly tell you I believe it all.  But I know changes are needed and I'm going to try to exercise my ability to choose how I think. 

This is a new day.

This is water.