Power

In the sermon today, Tyler asked the question how should we feel as Christians about power? He didn't answer the question. And this, along with ambition, is something that holds my interest. So needless to say, my brain immediately dove down that rabbit hole and I missed whatever he said next.

Let's define power as the ability to change the world around you. I borrowed this definition from the book Thou Shall Prosper: Ten Commandments for Making Money, by Rabbi Daniel Lapin. Eating steak instead of rice and beans counts as power. Driving a car instead of walking 2 miles to work every day counts as power. Getting your kids to do their chores counts as power.

Power is something that we need spiritually and receive physically. Spiritual things cannot be taken. The very act of taking them imbues them with poison. Spiritual things must be given - forgiveness, love, faithfulness, obedience (aka power). Our power is in the authority God gives.

I think the Bible bears this out. Proverbs talks about not taking a prominent seat (aka a seat of power). Instead, it says to work diligently with excellence and allow someone higher to give you that seat. Jesus said that everything He did came from God's direction, not His own. Yet we also know that He exercises power over heaven and hell. His authority (aka power) was given to Him.

Does that mean the desire for power is wrong? I don't think so - considering that it's a fundamental need in our lives. The desire for power, however, leads us in the wrong direction.

Frameworks

As a computer nerd, the term framework is all too familiar. God's very first command to humankind said subdue the earth and rule over it. In other words, exercise power. The idea of power provides a great framework for discussion. It gives a physical presence to an otherwise spiritual concept. I can express what my spirit knows in terms of power that everyone else understands.

I can put real world actions behind the idea of obtaining power. And then measure the outcome of those actions against it. I believe the problem comes when I measure my value by those outcomes.

Like any measure, power can reveal a facet of the spiritual reality. As we please God, He entrusts us with more power. In that sense, my power reflects His pleasure. I think that's the important bit - His pleasure. Power is given when I reflect God.

Pursuing power itself puts the creation (physical) above the creator (spiritual). Like ambition, a desire for power should spur me into a closer relationship with God. When I pursue God, He entrusts me with some of His power.

And that brings me to my generalization, well, because I like to generalize things. Spiritual things are consequences not goals. Power, as a goal, causes all kinds of trouble. Power as a consequence of obedience, however, looks very different. I think we ask the wrong question - is power good or evil? I think the question should be who am I pursuing? Take my eyes off the thing (power) and put them on the one (Jesus). 

One day, this might sink in.

Just Being With You

I watched an episode from the TV show Monk last night. The police captain stays with Monk for a few nights. While he's there, the captain keeps straightening the coffee table. If you're not familiar with the TV show, Monk is a detective with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). When they argue about the table, the captain observes that every other piece of furniture sits at a clean 90 degree angle. But Monk keeps setting the coffee table askew.

At the end of the episode, they show a scene of Monk with his late wife. She is sitting on the couch with her feet on the coffee table. She asks Monk if he's tired. He says yes, lays down and puts his head in her lap. The coffee table is positioned for her feet.

That picture, the comfort and safety he found by curling up and being with her. They exchanged something. I'm just not sure what. She gave him something. And it meant so much that he keeps the table the way it used to be. It was a spiritual exchange.

It reminds me of two people and conversations we've had. With one person, their significant other says "I just like having you here." It upsets this person. Makes them feel like an empty show piece.

The other person is someone I tell "I just like being with you." At first, I wanted them to feel comfortable with the silence. We don't need to fill the empty spaces with words. We can have our own social contract - one that benefits us. In a sense, we exchange something spiritually. I don't quite understand it yet.

What makes the same words a comfort to one person and an insult to another? Is there something underneath the words that matters more?

Consider the first person. If the words are all there is, then even if I told them that I enjoy just being in their presence, I would also be insulting them. It would be impossible for this person to ever have someone enjoy them. But if the words are merely a physical manifestation of something spiritual, then the person who says those words can make a difference in the outcome.

Or in language I've used before - the quality of the fruit depends on the quality of the tree. Saying the words doesn't make them true. And it certainly doesn't guarantee a result. There is something - Someone - deeper, underneath the sounds and definitions.

Why is this even bouncing around in my head? I'm looking for hope. I'm looking for a reason to trust. That's hard when all words look like lies.

Love and Need

Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other. (Dali Lama)

Yes, this a million times over. This defines the difference between obedience and compliance. Compliance does as little as it needs to get what it wants. Obedience goes above and beyond not just to avoid punishment, but to genuinely please someone.

I've wondered why God made it so easy for us to forget just how much He does for us. Our brains are designed - by Him - to shunt away things that repeat. Can this be one reason?

I don't know about you, but my brain has limited capacity. What if I spend that capacity loving Him instead of thinking about everything I need from Him? Shouldn't that be the basis of my relationship with Him? My love exceeds the need? And it's a lot of big needs.

At Home

This is something I tried to teach my daughters. Following rules is where toddlers start. I expected you to do not just what I asked, but above and beyond. Do it with excellence. Cleaner than I expected. Notice that it needs doing without me telling you. Understand what I want, and do something I never asked you to do.

Obedience becomes a vehicle for learning. We become more like the person we "obey". Too often we think of obedience as following commands, like a soldier in the military. Like soldiers, you're not supposed to stay a private for all your life. You learn, you grow, and you take on more responsibility. Eventually, you shape others as much as others have shaped you.

Obedience leads to responsibility, respect, trust. God wants us to rule the world. That was His first command to Adam. The more we become like Him, the more responsibility He gives us. God didn't create robots to be programmed. He expected us to grow. He expects to give us more.

That's what I want for my girls. I expect them to move out and have their own families. To take responsibility for themselves, then someone else.

Childish

In her book Thinking in Pictures, Temple Grandin describes her emotions as childish. Surprise, surprise, I was having another conversation in my head. This is one of the things that really stood out in that book. And by stood out I mean sounded familiar.

I spent the last two days trying to deal with, I guess, depression. I wanted to be alone, eat junk food, and watch TV. Is that the right word for this stuff? Anyway, I always want to understand why I feel the way I feel. What leads up to it? What's the pattern?

I believe this episode came in response to helping a friend. This person had a very difficult week emotionally. A lot of stuff just went wrong all at once. I've learned, in these cases, that I listen and let them draw strength. And I'm glad to do it.

Emotionally, stuff like that brings a high. I assume it's what people mean when they say connection. So I'm going to say that I feel a connection. When the connection breaks, though, the emotional "high" dissipates. Like a sugar rush, there's a crash at the end. The crash is what I'm calling depression.

See, this happens a lot. Even being in a lot of meetings can lead to the same place. Anything that involves people eventually leads to the crash. The depth and/or duration of the connection affects the depth of the crash. The crash seems to be my brain's way of trying to feel again, almost like an addiction.

Does that sound weird - trying to feel? If you can't tell, I think a lot. I spend a lot of my time in thinking mode using system 2.

How It Feels

I believe Vania goes through this too. Dr. Grandin posited that people on the autism spectrum feel and express their feelings in terms of base emotions. For example, some cry because all emotions come out that way. Some get angry. The point is, instead of processing their emotions, the emotions simply become another one. Which other one often depends on up bringing.

I get angry. I think Vania cries. I know growing up I heard how much I needed to control my temper. What I really heard was stop feeling that way. My feelings were bad, because they all came out the same way. I don't want Vania to hear that.

I feel like I'm back at a point in my life where I was many years ago. Only this time, I know at least one path that doesn't work. I just don't know what does work. I can't teach Vania what I don't know.

I do know that I can listen to her. Let her express her feelings in her own way - cry, yell, whatever form it takes. Correct behavior, and make sure that she feels loved.

One of Those Days

As the blog name implies, I imagined a conversation while walking today. The person on the other side just got kicked when down. You know, bad things come in threes. Anyway, even in my imagination, I had the temptation to say the ever banal everything will be alright.

It just sounds so dismissive. You shouldn't feel bad because everything will get better later. Okay, my job is done. See ya! Not very helpful.

Now, if you have a long talk. They purge their emotions. And you want to leave them with a sense of encouragement. Then, maybe, you can say this with some good eye contact as real encouragement. See the difference? Investment, connection.

I'm reading a book about project planning. The author makes the point that "the plan isn't important, the planning is." The words aren't important.

Feeling Small

Somehow I went from this line of thought into the story of Job. Towards the end of the story, Job is feeling really down. He gets upset. God lays out this whole speech asking if Job can create the leviathan in the sea, a behemoth on land, change the weather, put x-rays and other particles in motion so they intersect a spinning dirtball at just the right time. I feel small.

Job felt so bad that he pretty much breaks down. And Gods ends the sequence by saying that Job is important to Him. He puts Job in the context of all this stuff. Then dismisses the stuff and calls Job valuable. 

Connecting

What do I really want to say to the person on the other side? It's okay to feel awful. It's safe to feel awful. Grief is overwhelming. Everything else just amplifies it, like stubbing an already broken toe. There may be no other way than through, but you don't have to go alone.

Unpleasant Realization

I had an unpleasant realization Saturday morning. Renee has all the behaviors of an abuser - empty promises to change, denial of a problem, blaming the victim, insincere kindness trying to pretend she never did anything wrong. It was the insincere kindness that caught my attention.

Renee is substituting politeness for repentance. This is a pattern that I've seen over and over. She did exactly this after having hallucinations and neglecting the girls. What really makes me angry is that someone has told Renee all of this makes her right. They believe that I owe her because she's made an empty gesture.

I'm loathe to say that Renee abused me. I'm sure she tried. Renee used abuse as an excuse - a way to make me (and other people) feel sorry for her. It's left a bad taste in my mouth, emotionally speaking. So in my mind, the important thing is her behavior. See, I can't even call it abusive behavior.

But it was. Still is.