One of the many disappointing realities about the American political landscape is the lack of ownership. It’s not just politicians who shirk ownership – we all do. When my microphone sounds wonky, my mind immediately goes to the sound tech wondering if he will remedy his mistake, not to the more likely responsible party: myself. I probably moved the microphone or pulled the cord.
Of course we know that avoiding ownership usually backfires. Our esteem falls for those who dodge responsibility. But even still, the temptation to blame shift is strong in all of us.
“I am what I feel” sums up expressive individualism. Our culture frames identity around discovering what our deepest desires and longings are. To know our longings is to know ourselves.
In Billie Eilish’s 2023 song “What was I made for?” written for “Barbie,” Eilish reflects on the confusing journey to understand her feelings. It’s this journey, she assures herself that will lead to her happiness.
“The end is near!” “Repent!”
Have you ever seen a statement of prophetic warning spray-painted on a wall or in a subway station? got to be honest, I don’t take much notice to such warnings. But what if those warnings were for me and for you?
We are feeling all the feels. Our youngest, Soren, is about to graduate from high school. This has been a season of reflection for Angel and me and a season of preparation. In our children’s ministry hallways at New Life next to each age level we have containers that represent how many days of influence remain for you as a parent before your child launches. I recognize, of course, that there is no finish line for parenting, but one’s influence and role changes significantly in each season.
As we look back on our parenting, the most important things we taught our children were who God is and who they were.
Intrusive thoughts are unwelcome and hard to control. I can remember having intrusive thoughts from the time I was a child. When we drove, I often felt the compulsion to press one foot down on the floor between the telephone poles (and yes, I also hopped over the cracks in the sidewalk). At other times, when walking alone, I remember the persistent thought, “He’s watching you.” I would search the bushes and trees for the one my mind told me was watching me.
During the halftime show for Super Bowl 2003, serenaded by Shania Twain, I took a pregnancy test. Two lines appeared. Pregnant? How could I be pregnant? How does this fit into my plan? Tears began to flow. Not tears of joy. Tears of overwhelm.
The beginning of motherhood started to strip me of my selfishness and desire to control. I was forced into this land of surrendering my well-planned life.
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