One of the more significant happenings since my last post was the death of a former professor and administrator at the school I work. Doctor/Pastor Dave Plaster passed last weekend after an unexpected and brief illness.  Over the last two years of his life, he returned to local church ministry and was mostly away from Grace College.

While I was never one of the many young men (especially future pastors) that he individually mentored (sometimes called the “Plasterites”) I learned under him in at least 4 classes, admired his rare combination of intellect and heart, and considered him a friend.  And I, like so many others, have stories of his impact on my life.  Specifically, he helped me find a way to graduate when I thought it impossible, he encouraged me to marry the woman who is now my wife, and he advised me to stay on at Grace College when I decided to resign as RD.  In reflecting on his life and listening to stories of his impact this past month:

• Very appreciative of all I learned in his theology and church history courses - I’m convinced that I would hate those two areas of study with less of a teacher.
• I always saw him as an energetic and straight shooting person - he was easily one of the busiest people at Grace.  At the memorial service, his executive pastor described him as “busy but interruptible.”  As a fellow busy-man, I long for the same to be said of me.
• He was brilliant - his mind could have earned him accolades in many different fields, but more important than brilliant, he was focused.  He understood and pursued his calling - to lead the church and develop emerging church leaders.
• He loved and served his family well.  His son Rob shared that their family never felt neglected by their father’s many other responsibilities.  He said that proved how big his dad’s heart was - that he could love so many people and still love his family first.
• He valued time with people -mentoring, usually one on one.  I relate with that passion, and yet in recent years, I’ve done it less, and made is less of a priority.

I pray the example of godly men like Dave Plaster will change the way I live, learn, and serve as an educator, father, and leader.

Metanoia,
Aaron

So, I’m 3.5 days into my journey of thinking about rest - my commitment for Lent this year.  To review, I’ve decided to:

• intentionally reflect on the pace of my life as it relates to work, rest, and busyness
• read Buchanan’s “The Rest of God” and other readings about Sabbath
• take at least 4 days off before Easter
• get more sleep (at least 6.5 hours, generally in bed by 11 and up by 6)
• no caffeine after lunch and no food after supper

The harder I worked, the less I accomplished… My days were intricately fitted together like the old game of of Mousetrap, every piece precariously connected to every other, the whole thing needing to work together foe it to work at all.  But there was little fruit and stunted fruit… Here’s a secret: for all my busyness, I was increasingly slothful.  I could wile away hours at a time in a masquerade of working, a pantomime of toil - fiddling  about on the computer, leafing through old magazines, chatting up people in the hallways. But I was squandering time, not redeeming it.  And whenever I stepped out for a vacation, I did just that: vacated, evacuated, spilled myself empty…  The inmost places suffered most.  I was losing perspective.  (The Rest of God, 1-2)

Any deep change in how we live begins with a deep change in how we think.  The biblical word for this is repentance - in Greek, metanoia, a change of mind. (The Rest of God, 4-5)

I am tired.

Not falling asleep in class tired (trust me, I’ve experienced that numerous times), or out of breath tired. it’s not exactly sick-and-tired.  I’m not necessarily upset about this, in fact, if I’m being honest, I actually enjoy it sometimes.  It’s the tired you get when you continuously engage in a tiresome schedule and run at a tiring pace.  It’s a work + family + friends + church + house tired.

It’s a too busy for rest tired.

And it’s becoming a problem.

I’m not experiencing a “tired crisis” of any specific kind.  I’m relatively healthy, my family is relatively supportive and happy, my relationships are okay - maybe not great, but okay, and my walk with God seems fairly close.  But something tells me that this “tired” isn’t okay.

Living tired isn’t living.

Obviously, I’m having a bit of a hard time defining this.  But there are a few things I’m sure of: it isn’t healthy, it isn’t life as God intended, and I have a responsibility to do something about it.

Now, if you are reading this (welcome inside my head, by the way. I’m probably writing this more for the benefit of organizing my thoughts than to influence yours, but figured others might be able to speak toward or benefit from my musings if I threw them out here…) please don’t simplify this issue.  I don’t want to hear trite encouragements to “pray more,” or “take more time off,” or - my favorite - “prioritize.”  All those are truth, but I’m too tired to see clearly how to apply that advice.

This tiredness… this life-pace problem… this work/rest relationship is complicated.  I’ve been down this road a thousand times only to realize again and again that I’ve gone in a circle.  I’ve tried spiritual practices, being more health conscious, seeking wise counsel, and building better boundaries.  Both problem and solutions are multi-layered and potentially chronic.

So, I’ve decided on a first step.  I’m going to… here it comes… think about this more.

Perhaps that seems like a weak first step, but I’m pretty tired, and when I’m tired, intentional reflection is the first casualty.  So, I’m going to spend some time and energy (both in short supply) considering how I can overcome tiredness, find my rhythm, restore my soul, and start really living.

I’m grateful for some religious leaders at some unknown point in history instituted a time of spiritual preparation in the 40 days leading up to Easter called “Lent.”  I’ve adopted this practice at various times in the past to focus my life in one direction or another.  So this year I’m going to do some thinking.

For the sake of accountability and my own processing… here’s what this “thinking” will look like:

• use this blog to share some thoughts about topics like work, rest, sabbath, and pace
• read Mark Buchanan’s “The Rest of God”
• review 3 or 4 other books and articles I’ve collected on this topic in the last couple of years.
• be intentional to get enough sleep each night (goal: in bed by 11, at least 6.5 hours a night).
• take a “tithe” of these 40 days off - 4 days may not seem like a lot, but this is spring at Grace College.
• I’m not sure how this fits, but traditionally Lent has included abstaining from something for this brief time.  I’ve decided to cut out all food after supper and all coffee after lunch.

Last week, my friend and co-worker, Dan Huber, and I were asked to co-teach a couple of hours in the “Gender and Sexuality” course on the topic of “the Essence of Masculinity.”  I initially thought it must be some sort of joke, but no, the invitation was legit.  

So, with only a week to prepare, we set out on the task of understanding and facilitating a conversation on this topic - a process which consumed 5 or 6 movies, gallons of coffee, and at least one all-nighter.  Two things were instantly evident: 1) There is a lot of content pertaining to men, male issues, and the roles men play in the family, church, workplace, and society, but not much on our specific topic. 2) This is a very personal issue.  When you start defining and identifying “masculinity” major defenses rise up inside a man.  Every definition I came across (and there are not many out there brave/stupid enough to try to define it) was, internally, a measurement of my own worth and competence.  So, I had to try to get over myself quite a bit, but in the end I had a ton of fun with the topic and really enjoyed teaching with someone as talented as Dan.

Basically we decided to lead the class in identifying positive characteristics they have observed in the men that have fathered them throughout life (dads, brothers, relatives, teachers, mentors) and then use that context to build a working definition of masculinity.  We then shared with the class our working definition:

One who takes responsibility for himself and others by engaging, cultivating, protecting and providing.

 As I mentioned above, this is not a term on which many are willing to pin a definition, but we’re new at this and don’t know any better.  We spent some time fleshing it out and answering questions about how well this captures the “essence of masculinity.”  Finally we identified four general ways in which men respond to their masculinity.  This gave us a way of categorizing common issues men deal with.  

Over compensation (The Man’s Man)  flimsy expressions of masculinity – safe places of comfort and competence where men retreat to appear masculine… 

Disconnection (The Mama’s Boy)  When the label of “masculine” doesn’t feel right, is rejected, or is simply met with passivity…  

Control (The Escape Artist)  the places men go to feel powerful and in control – over people or situations or themselves…

Embracing Masculinity – owning and accepting our masculinity as a central part of our identity and calling in life…

With each of these responses, we illustrated the response with a list of ways this response could demonstrate itself in behavior.  We also shared ways we’ve seen these played out (anonymously) on our college campus.  We also shared examples from the bible of men responding in these ways.

If anyone is reading this - I know I have only posted twice in 5 months - I’d LOVE to hear your thoughts on our (working) definition and these four responses.  Defining anything can be dangerous, but the process of defining is a great teaching mechanism.  Clearly, in this case, I am learning much more than I could have possibly taught.  

Metanoia,
Aaron

So, in (let’s see…) 4 hours Sarah is scheduled to deliver child #3 via c-section.

I’m up early as #2 has a pesky cough that he can’t shake.  I offered him a cup of water which he seemed relieved to receive, but then sleepily poured down his neck.  We both laughed - an unexpected moment of joy at 4:40 in the middle of the night.  Now I can’t sleep.

This is literally a moment pregnant with anticipation… expectation… hope…

To be completely honest with myself - and I guess you the reader - the excitement is peppered with other moments, brief moments of uncertainty, anxiety, and fear.  I bounce between dreaming of wonderful future experiences with another daughter and rehearsals of “worst case scenarios.”  So, then I get all tied up in my thoughts - wanting to be positive yet realistic, wanting to cherish the moment but not ignore the risks.

So who can sleep?  Sarah’s not, I hear her tossing and turning, sniffing and sighing in the next room.  Do we even need to verbalize the confusion of these moments?

So, I pray.  I thank God for the opportunity to reflect on this moment.  Really, all of life should be viewed from this level.  I wish I were always aware of the imminent potential for joy or pain in a given moment.  To know that the stakes are high all the time. Life or death…  good or evil… success or failure… laughter or tears…

“Blessed be Your name when the sun’s shining down on me, when the world’s ‘all as it should be’ blessed be Your name. And blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering, though there’s pain in the offering, blessed be Your name.  Every blessing You pour out I’ll turn back to praise.  When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord!”

Metanoia,
Aaron

CLICK for photos of our Donut Date!

So today I was the guest of my firstborn daughter at her preschool’s “Dads and Doughnuts Day.”  As you might have guessed they are learning the letter D.  It was fun to spend time with her 1 on 1 - meeting her friends whom she would tell me she “loves” but then walk up to them and ask them their name.  It would make for an interesting study of men.  The 7 or 8 of us who accompanied our children mostly sat as far away as possible from each other sinking into our chairs with our attention fully on the one person we knew in the room.  We weren’t completely rude to each other, there were plenty of customary head nods and half smiles.  No eye contact, are you kidding?

In short, it is probably the exact opposite of what you’d have seen if it was a group of mothers with children in the same stage of life sharing a few plates of delicious doughnuts.  They’d have left the room 90 minutes later with everyone’s name memorized and a weeks worth of play dates and “coffees” planned.

Why are guys (and especially me) so hesitant to initiate new connections and introduce ourselves?  What makes me too proud or passive to stick my hand out, introduce myself, and ask questions to get to know someone?  When I look back on experiences like this today I feel like a coward.  Why does my fear show up in situations like this?  Why don’t I initiate relationship that doesn’t somehow benefit me?

In the beginning “God created man and women” - sometimes the distinction between those two is very clear - like at preschool open houses.

Okay, I’m not sure where all that introspection came from -  the time with my daughter was priceless and the doughnuts were Dang Delicious.

Metanoia,
Aaron