2011 May » Sean Durham

On Connecting and Compelling and EverydayMay

May 312011

I read a lot of blogs.

As someone desperate to write, I scan each blog for content. Why do I like this one and not that one? What about this sentence feels real to me? Is this interesting because it’s fancy or is it interesting because it’s interesting? What is the author saying, and what is the author saying?

What I’m coming to find (really, what I’m coming to realize) I think, Is a truth universal. We cannot compel unless we connect. And wanting people to connect with you is dramatically different than wanting to connect with people. Connection is everything. Marketers work tirelessly in research farms and force-feed babies in focus groups all looking for better ways to “connect” to their market. They pore over demographic data; your income, your weight, your purchasing habits all dictate and determine the ways in which they want to connect with us. And we let them, don’t we? Would any rational being buy a KFC double-down on their own?

And as readers, we have a keen sense of false living. We’re so inundated with media that we know when an author is posing, we know when a writer is condescending, or puffed-up or full of ego. We know when they’re faking it. I’m willing to bet your favorite author, your favorite book or song or painting means more to you than aesthetics. I’m willing to bet that it plucks a string of yours, your favorite string (or maybe your most wounded string) and it resonates throughout your body – echoing down to the deep parts.

Which is why I’m so thankful to have joined a group of writers who wrote plainly, honestly, truly every day this month. It’s been encouraging and inspiring and humbling to have walked (semi-faithful) with a group of such beautiful people. It’s been an honor to have played a small role in starting this thing and I’m way beyond excited to keep the journey going.

Andrew is suggesting a Jellyroll June – which I think is about burning all of the calories we collected over the last month sitting down to write. I may join him.

For the rest of us, we’ll write and we’ll connect and we’ll continue in community. What I’ve learned this month is that the words… are just words. They’re small vehicles and I’m so thankful to have found connection in them this month.

A Memorial Day Thanksgiving

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May 302011

This teacher deserves all of the attention she’s getting. Today, I am thankful that my sister isn’t doing shooter drills with her 2nd grade class. This is happening one country away and the reason most of us will never need this kind of bravery is because we’ve got rough men at the ready – guarding our borders, keeping America’s house in order.

“People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf”

We aren’t perfect and I believe we’ve got a long ways to go. But as I type these words into a computer I own, with wealth I haven’t earned, I am reminded of my undeserved nationality. And as you read this, your mind shaped into literacy by American public schools, I’m hoping you remember yours as well.

It’s memorial day, and I’m a thankful man.

Black Horse of Affliction

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May 292011

“The Lord’s mercy often rides to the door of our heart upon the black horse of affliction.”

Charles H. Spurgeon

Unexpected Bummers of Healing

everydaymay 1 Response »

May 262011

I was in an accident on Saturday. I wrote about it – it was rough.

As I hobble through the healing process (made a little better by muscle relaxers and pain killers) there are a few unexpected obstacles.

Goosebumps – Have become impossible to bear. The new skin on my back and the bandages and the ointment make getting goosebumps the worst part of any cold situation.

Hiccups – I literally pray against getting hiccups.

Rolling Over in Bed – My least favorite part of the sleep process. Something has been torqued my belly and it makes the “twisting” function incredibly painful. The strange thing is, I can roll to my left side, but rolling to my right from my back is impossible. The stopgap I’ve discovered is to perform an almost-full revolution, rolling over to my left and cruising until I land on my right. I’m sure God chuckles a little.

Overall, though – it’s been good. Of all the things that could have (should have) conspired towards me being really, really hurt, I am a blessed man.

The Worst Part about Following Jesus

everydaymay, God, Writing 6 Responses »

May 252011

I used to pray that God wouldn’t send me to Africa. Because I used to think that the Christian life worked on a linear progress-scale. I thought that, at some stage in your faith you were required (or something like required) to sell your stuff and live with wild animals in South Africa. And that terrified me. I was a spoiled child, to be sure.

Then, thankfully, I learned about the “many parts/one body” dynamic and I also learned something about “calling.” It put me at ease to know that those wildebeest-befriending missionaries weren’t just upended businessmen and PTA volunteers – they were hardwired for the missional life, and, for the most part were living in the center of joy because they were living in the center of their calling. No one goes unwillingly from the tract home to the teepee.

So, I’m older now but only a little wiser. I’m not scared anymore of Christian henchmen stealing me and sending me to Africa. But these days, I’m bound by another kind of reticence.

Most people talk about the fullness of God – the rich, deep joy found in following him – and, to be sure I’ve found those things to be true. But what I’m finding is that, in this story, there are immutable laws to which the Author chooses to hold us. Things are better in this story, but different.

This thing, this story, this fairy tale, this Christian life. It’s real, and if we let it, it changes everything.

Because “break my heart for what breaks yours” is not just another line in a worship song – it’s the most dangerous prayer we can pray. It’s what turns casual jokes at work into embarrassing displays of emotion. It’s what turns racist-political bumper stickers into genuinely deep sorrow. It’s what turns a dirty child, held too tightly by her father into a near outburst at the DMV.

But, it’s also what turns sunrises into grand orchestral movements and mountains into shoulders of glory. It’s what turns motorcycle accidents into movements of grace and turns conversation into conversion and people into poetry. It is a beautiful and full and messy and painful and glorious life that simply won’t be walked away from.

And it’s not for lack of trying. Believe me, I’ve tried to write a hundred different stories. Stories about lust or ambition or pride…or even just good stories, the kind about stucco walls and safe, sparkling teeth.

But I can’t, I can’t outrun or out-write the inescapable, inexplicable pursuit of the Jesus story. The one about glory and sunrises and healing and restoration. I’ve tried to find these things on my own, I’ve dug deep into my pockets and every time have pulled out sweaty, empty hands.

The worst thing about following Christ is not the persecution you face (in America, almost none) it’s not the promotions you miss because you don’t go to the strip club with your boss. It’s not the 10% missing from your disposable income.

It’s that you can’t go back.

You can’t. And thank God for that.

My Apologies

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May 232011

EverydayMay – I have neglected you. I won’t offer an excuse, but it’s been a rough 48 hours.

I’ll have a full update tomorrow.

On Grace and Gauze

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May 212011

I’m not a fan of dramatics, but I’m currently blogging from the hospital bed.

I rolled a quad today, came in a little hot around a trail and it threw me off and down into a ditch, I hear it was about an 8 foot fall. Inertia did as it always does and sent the quad tumbling off of the same trail edge, resting finally on top of me.

I remember the impact, my back against the brush. I remember feeling a strange, quiet chaos. Both peaceful and painful.

And, when the quad came tumbling off of the edge I remember thinking that this could be really, truly bad. I covered my head and the quad hit and I felt the impact of the seat and some tires. I remember my body compressing.

I stood to my feet and took inventory of my body. I remember wriggling my toes to make sure I could, and feeling my arms and legs for their bones.

I walked slowly and found encouragement in my slow, labored steps. “I can walk, that’s a good sign right?” I remember the quad’s engine sputter and stop, it on it’s side.

So, here I lay face down in a hospital bed, the nurse preparing me for scrubbing. My back, exposed and cold. My left arm has an IV, and I just had a ct scan.

The doctor told me that there’s a man down the hall who also flipped his quad earlier today. She asked if we were together – his brain is bleeding and it’s not looking good.

So here I am, still wriggling my toes, wrapped in as much grace as I am in gauze.

On When and Why

everydaymay, God, life 1 Response »

May 192011

I’ve a friend who is a good father. He’s got four kids and knows what he’s doing.

We were talking last night about my ‘need’ to know the ‘why’ in every situation. I was sharing my story of God calling and me waiting like a spoiled child insisting to know “why” before listening to his father.

A beautiful thing about God is that he’ will meet us in our “why” – eventually, because he’s a good father. But I believe that if we keep insisting that He does, our sanctification will be spread out over a long, half-satisfied lifetime. We will to be so busy making God prove himself to us that – we might actually run out of time to live in the abundance he’s aching to give us.

So, my friend explained that when he sees his son in the street – and there’s a car approaching, he demands that his son obey and move. Quickly. Maybe his son sees the car, but maybe he doesn’t and simply obeys his father. So after he does, the son asks his father why he had to move.

Because my friend is a good father, he’ll explain that he commanded his son to move because, from his perspective, he saw that his son was In danger. And his son’s obedience is what allows for the dialogue and communion and life they’re experiencing now.

I believe God delights in satisfying our need to know why, and he’ll pore over the reasons He’s designed us for life with him, but we have to listen, move and get out of the street. So it isn’t wrong to want to know the “why” – it brings us into intimacy.

So, I’m learning (thanks to lessons from a good father) that it’s not about the why, it’s about the when.

On Writing and Distraction

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May 182011

Sometimes I wonder if doing the hard work of writing (or any art) is harder for our generation than it was for the ones before us. There’s literally unlimited distraction on tap, ready to pour at us from the same screen most of us use to do the creating.

I wonder if there isn’t some strong spiritual war raging around us, turning our heads, quickening our minds and keeping us from participating in the sacred act of creation. We call it “ironic” that our generation has seen more technological advancement than any before it – and yet, we’re more distracted than ever.

I wonder if there’s something deeper.

Writer friends, what do you do to stay focused?

Ok, I Give Up

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May 172011

Ok, my ENFJ friends (everybody) – I have a secret. I’ve been mascarading as one of you for some time now, but I just can’t stand myself anymore. All the deception, the posturing, the cover-ups and the sleepless nights…all of it ends now.

I
Am
A
“p”

{Deep exhale}

I’d given up wanting to be a “T” awhile ago, though it was tough. “A man should be a “thinker”" I’d say. Cool and indifferent and detached and…not me. But, I was wrong. My idea of masculinity had been distilled to it’s basest forms – so there has been freedom both in the realignment of my definition as well as my identity.

But this P/J issue has not gone quietly.

What I’ve come to experience (through the Godshape classes) is that, who you are when you’re at peace is who you are. So, while I value order and structure and concrete boundaries – those don’t bring me peace, they bring me…money.

I’ve put a literal value on the “J” dynamic because it (at least in my flawed definition of it) is what my job requires of me. But peace? Not so much.

So, I hope my ENFJ friends don’t disown me for turning in my badge.

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