Trust and Tiredness

Last night, we stayed up working on our robot until midnight.

This morning, we stayed up working on our robot until 8:30 am, when it shipped.

We worked on the robot for a long time. I am tired.

Still, I am not too tired to blog. Actually, my brain is so full of thoughts that they're coming out in droves upon what I wanted to call a canvas, but which is actually just a bunch of pixels displaying the graphical representation of code. Dagnabbit, just when I was feeling poetic...

So, one of my excuses for not blogging (something I really want to do pretty much all the time) is that I had no idea how to fit in the end to the saga of the job at the gas station. I still don't know how, so I'm just going to spell it out. I got the job, but I turned it down. Getting the job was an answer to prayer, but God's answers are always so much elaborate than the ones we want. I asked for a job, and he gave me a dilemma that required trust in him and faith in action, not to mention standing my ground for once in my life.

To put a long story into 424 words, the manager showed me the ropes one day, and I did not like the ropes. It would have been a challenging job, but that was not what turned me off. I actually think it would have been a growing experience for me, if it had not been for what I was asked to do. The guy was really cool, but one of the first things he said to me was, "Don't worry, man, I won't tell your parents about anything you do here. You're your own man now, right? Striking out on your own!" Then he laughed. I laughed nervously with him.

He then proceeded to show me specific things I would be selling, like cigarettes (barely legal for me), beer (still not sure about that one), and magazines designed to provide temptation for guys my age (products I am not about to provide). As the son who has watched his father's life be made miserable in part by a nicotine addiction, I was dead set against feeding the addictions of others. Beer? I mean, they're going to get it no matter what, right? Yeah. No. It's not going to be through me. The magazines kind of nailed the lid into the coffin for me.

I was still torn, though. It was a life-altering decision. Pretty much all decisions are, but this was tangibly so. I needed a job desperately, and it looked like God had provided one. On the other hand, this was not a job in which I would be happy, and I was not even sure I could do it for a year. It took a lot of prayer, but I knew the entire time what my answer would be. I couldn't do it. Saying no is always difficult for me, but it become more difficult when the guy tried his darndest to get me to change my mind. I was determined, fortunately, and for once I didn't let someone butter me up and push me around. I said no, and I felt good about it, sort of.

That gas station closed a few days after I said no. I'm unsure as to whether it was because I didn't take the job that they had to close, or whether I would have been out of a job a few days after I got hired. The guy did seem desperate, even though he said to me in his game show host voice, "I'm never desperate." I almost believed him until that last phone call.

So that is the answer to your question. I got the job, right? No. But I learned a lot and made some difficult decisions I had never before made. I had been faced with them before, but had never made the right choice when it meant giving up something for which I had thought I was destined.

Anyway. I tend to live my life with my hair in some crazy, ridiculous do. I do it to relieve stress, if you want to know. Yes, sometimes because I want to be cool (this is always a disappointment; it never works), but often to relieve stress. This morning I needed to relieve some, so I gelled my hair all to one side. And not flat against my head. Oh, no. Ever seen the movie The Country Bears? You know that part with the two cops who go through the car wash? I love that part. My hair looked like the white cop's. Except to the right, not straight back.

Sometimes, when someone tells me something that shocks me and changes my entire outlook on the day, I am tempted to let my hair down, as it were. I don't feel like the same crazy, goofy person. But it's just a feeling, isn't it? I am still the same crazy, goofy person no matter what someone tells me (unless they tell my that I'm not the same crazy, goofy, person, and they're right, which rarely happens). Sure, there's much more to me than the crazy, goofy parts, but they still remain. A sudden shift in circumstance doesn't change who I am.

I'm learning not to let circumstances change me. It has a lot to do with trusting God, one of the most difficult things for me to do. I've never before been able to say this, but I am starting to do that. Today, I had to make one of my most difficult trust decisions. Someone told me something that completely changed my view of certain things, and I really want to pursue that something with all of my heart. My heart's point of view changes a lot, though. It isn't very dependable. I'm learning that God's point of view is 100% dependable.

I'm learning not to trust my emotions. They can be very persuasive, but they are almost always fleeting.

I now have a Boston song playing in my head. It's more than a feeling!!

But is it more than a feeling? I think it's still too early to tell, some say, it really ain't no myth at all.

Now, that was Jack Johnson. Is my playlist showing?

But when you discover for a fact that someone else has the same feeling, does that lend any credence to it? Maybe, I guess. But that doesn't change the fact that God knows and I don't. It makes complete sense to trust him with my future and follow his plan. I'm actually starting to just accept that and obey him. Sometimes. This was one of those times, and it was certainly emotional. I just don't want to give up my desires. Why? Because I desire them so much!

I'm so glad that God is patient. It took me eighteen years to obey his will once or twice. Now I just have to continue. I'm finding out that the more I trust God, the more I love him for his perfect planning and love for me that is so evident in what he asks me to do. You have no idea how long I've waited to love him. I'm seeing just a glimpse of what Jesus meant when he said that we love God by obeying his commands. It never made sense to me because I had never tried it.

Can I tell you right now that it works?

So, today I gave up control to God. Boy, was that tough. I'm still not in total agreement. I'm still just sitting here hoping that he does what I want him to do. In other words, I still have the wrong attitude. Have I mentioned how much I want to go with what both myself and the second party feel? It's so hard. Life is hard. God is good. I'm putting my faith in the latter, and I'm doing it with my hair held high.

Discipline.

A note: This post was originally begun in early May and it's taken me until early June to post it. How's this for some irony? The reason it's taken me so long to finish a post about discipline is that for once I've actually been disciplined when it comes to my schoolwork. I have only a few days left to finish it and I'm cramming in lesson after lesson after lesson. I'm finally becoming disciplined in my academics. Maybe now I'll finally become disciplined spiritually. Let's hope so.

Discipline.

D-I-S-C-I-P-L-I-N.

Discipline.

*DING*

Ten letters.
Big word.
Bigger implications.

Does anyone else feel this way, at this moment? That the thing that's holding them back from what they want more than anything - like, I don't know, let's say... a living, breathing, bleeding relationship with the Everything that created the universe and brings meaning to it - is a lack of discipline? For so long I've felt disconnected from God. Not that God wasn't there - he was always there, and I knew it - but that there was a wall separating me from him. God could have broken down the wall, but he chose to wait patiently for me to figure out how to get over it first. I realize now that the wall in front of me is not something to be chipped at and eventually torn down, but a challenge - something to be climbed, surmounted, with his help. But he isn't about to reach over it and do everything for me. Why? Because that wall is discipline.

In saying that discipline is a wall, I mean that to have any sort of a relationship with God, I need to know him, and I can't know him without discipline. The word "discipline" comes originally from the Latin word disciplina which means "instruction given to a disciple." So discipline is being given instruction and learning from the person who is discipling you. Disciplines are the ways we learn from our discipler. I want to be like the disciples in the Bible; I want to be Jesus' disciple. I want to learn about him, I want to learn how to love him, to follow him, to know him.

So how do I know him? Some of the most basic disciplines we're taught are fellowship with other people attempting to follow Christ, reading of the holy Scriptures, and talking to God one-on-one. (I told my friend once that I talked to God, and he said, "Really? Directly? That's pretty good." He thought he was a psychic.) You know what? The only one of these I do regularly is go to church. I mean, I talk to God all the time, if we define "talking to God" as throwing out words to nobody in particular that I happen to address as God. God hears the words, but we're not having a conversation. I am not listening to him with my spirit, and half the time I'm so busy worrying about meaning what I'm saying that I don't mean what I say. The most embarrassing lack of discipline I am currently displaying is my inability to read my Bible every day. Every time I do, I am so glad I did.

Can I possibly be so busy? No, I really can't. I spend hours every day lying around, playing video games, watching movies that are a complete waste of time (read: watching The Tale of Despereaux), et cetera. I spent the last hour trying to finish this post when I was supposed to be doing math. Sometimes I do nothing but think about how I have nothing to do. Does the thought of talking to God, talking with someone about God, or reading his word cross my mind? Very, very rarely. It seems I have time for everyone and everything but God. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are nothing but a comforting thought. Do I engage? Heck no, I'm trying to beat the next challenge on Skate 2.

I spend a lot of time at MCA now, doing homework and whatnot. It's a quieter place than my house, and it's easier to get my subjects done there. How's this for a sad reality? I have no time for God, but I set aside a time every day to work on school all by myself. I even go out of my way to make sure I have a place to work uninterrupted. I seem to be very eager to learn about physics, learn how to love physics, to follow physics, to know physics. I say the same of myself about Jesus, but which one do I follow through on? This is the ultimate truth of my current existence, and it's humilating to say it. It's so humiliating that I can't even say it here. Click on this link so you can go away where I won't see you reading it.

Private schools pwn public schools, although homeschooling does pwn them all. I'm so glad I took a class at MCA this year. The socialization was great, for one thing. Homeschooling does not equal a lack of socialization, but there's something about seeing people almost every day that connects you to them, almost like the way a family works. Sometimes you can't stand one another, but you feel connected to them in a special way because of the amount of time you spend with them. However, the most encouraging thing for me has been the teachers. I have had an experience that is pretty unique, being sort-of a member of the school but in a way set apart. I spend a lot of time, sometimes whole school days at MCA, but I homeschool there, if you catch my drift. I get to talk with them from a different perspective then the full-time students there do. In truth, everyone who goes to that school could see it that way, but it's harder for them to because teachers are the evil people who live to give them more homework. One teacher in particular - I'll call her "Mrs. Longval" - has been an incredible encouragement to me. There's no way I can quantify how much of an encouragement she's been to me, but that's okay. If you ever need an example of someone earnestly seeking after Jesus, look no further.

Lately, we've been discussing teaching, because I really want to become a teacher in some capacity. She says that the being a teacher is basically composed of giving your whole heart to your students and then letting them break it. Wow, that's got to be tough. And I can see it on the faces of all the teachers. That must be something like how God feels when he pours his love into us and we break his commandments to his face. We don't even make an effort most of the time to keep them, never mind keeping an active relationship with him. I want an active relationship more than anything, but I can't get the discipline thing down. I started to tear up as I thought about this, and she asked me if I wanted to pray with her. We prayed, and I felt better, but a few weeks later and I'm still not reading my Bible and I still feel distant from God. Now, maybe I'm being too hard on myself. After all, most good things worth doing require hard work. But then again, the essential things in life, like breaths and heartbeats, come naturally.

It all comes down to the Fall (no pun intended). I believe that a real relationship with God is completely essential. So why isn't it like breathing? That's the thing - it was like breathing for Adam and Eve before they sinned. I was reading the account of the Fall in Genesis chapter 3, and there's a cool passage in verse 8 that reads, "Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden (Emphasis added)." Now, somebody can correct me if I'm wrong, but that seems pretty literal to me. Can you imagine this? Adam and Eve literally walked with God physically. How incredible would that be? I'll tell you. Infinitely incredible. And then they had to go and sin. Suddenly God was distant, and is distant, at least in our default sinful state. It's as if our sin actually grips us, holds on to us, and we have to fight that sin nature in order to try to get close to him.

Now, one of the cool things about God is that he uses events in my life to show me his will. Here I am thinking all about discipline, and then a few days later I go on a fine arts field trip with the school to the Community of Jesus Ecumenical Monastic Community in Rock Harbor, Cape Cod. It's a mouthful, but basically it's a modern monastery, convent, and friary all rolled into one. The place is incredible, absolutely incredible. The place is dedicated to the use of the arts to glorify God, and that basically is my alley. My life feels like an Adventures in Odyssey episode where Eugene goes to a monastery to learn about discipline (episode 366, "Solitary Refinement," to be precise). Except that in that show, Eugene actually became a little more disciplined. I didn't get to do any of that solitude stuff. No, we took a guided tour. While it was fascinating to see all of that indescribably beautiful artwork, I didn't get to do what I really wanted to, which was talk to the monks and the nuns there. Not just the cute 20-year-old nun that I developed a short-lived crush on, but as many of them as I could. I wanted to ask them, "How do you do it? How do you keep all of those vows? How can you possibly be so disciplined?" Yes, it's true, monks mess up too - we could tell whenever they did because they did this quick little bow thing to confess to God that they said the wrong words in a Gregorian chant (which I actually got to sit in on - so cool!) or whatnot. But their capacity for obedience seems to be so much greater than mine, at least on the surface. Maybe I should take a vow or something.

Ending this post is difficult, because I'm not at the end. But I may as well wrap it up, because if I wait until I'm at the end, I'll never get to post it. After a month of writing this post, discipline is still a big word to me. If it was a word in the Scripps' National Spelling Bee, I would fail to spell it. Not because I can't spell the word, but because I wouldn't ever get there. I love watching the Spelling Bee on TV - call me weird if you will, and I know you will - but I couldn't do it. I always wanted to do it (the first time I saw it was the year I was too old to compete), but I don't think I would have the discipline. I would rely too much on my natural spelling ability and wouldn't spend enough time learning word roots.

So I'm not disciplined. What do I do? I fight the sin nature inside me. I resist the urge to take the easiest path. I look up word roots. I make an effort. It will be difficult. It is difficult. It might be impossible, or at least infinitely improbable. But I have a penchant for infinitely improbable things.

Discipline. Can I have the etymology, please?

"It's from Latin to French to English."

Discipline. Can you use it in a sentence?

"Andrew decided he needed to become more disciplined in his walk with God."

Discipline. Is it from the Latin disciplina, which means instruction given to a disciple?

"You're on the right track."

Discipline.

D-I-S-C-I-P-L-I-N-E.

"That's correct."

Fortunately, unlike the Spelling Bee, God gives us grace. We're allowed to try more than once, and I'm so very happy for that.