I was a repulsively good kid growing up. I don’t think I would have been classified as a “goody goody” – does that term even exist anymore? – but I just didn’t get in that much trouble. As an only child, I was pretty spoiled, and I didn’t want to mess with the good deal I had. 

Still, I had spectacular failures. I’ll not share those because they’re none of your business, and we don’t know each other that well. On one occasion, Mama laid on me the title of this article: “Michael Anthony Martin, you should be ashamed of yourself.” It’s always bad when parents call you by your whole name. 

So – being ashamed. I think there was a time when Southerners had the capacity to be ashamed because of something we did or said, but that may be a lost ideal. 

In our modern world, the concept of shame often gets a bad rap. It’s seen as an outdated, negative emotion, something to be avoided at all costs. But have we, in our quest to be free of discomfort, lost sight of the transformative power of shame? As Christians, we understand that shame, when understood and approached correctly, can be a catalyst for positive change.

The Lost Art of Feeling Ashamed

In a society that champions the mantra of “doing what feels right,” the idea of feeling ashamed for our actions seems almost archaic. We live in a world where personal truth often overrides absolute Truth, and the notion of feeling embarrassed by our negative behaviors is increasingly rare. But is this lack of shame a sign of progress or a warning of lost moral compass?

Shame in the Biblical Context

The Bible doesn’t shy away from discussing shame. In fact, it’s often presented as a natural response to sin and wrongdoing. Proverbs 14:34 reminds us, “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.” This reproach, or shame, is not meant to be a permanent state but a moment of realization, a turning point.

The Role of Shame

Shame’s true role is not to condemn but to convict. It’s like a mirror, reflecting back our imperfections, not to discourage us but to encourage us to seek better. In 2 Corinthians 7:10, Paul talks about godly sorrow leading to repentance: “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.” This distinction is crucial. Godly sorrow, or shame, should lead us to a place of positive change.

Moving from Guilt to Grace

Feeling shame for our negative thoughts and behaviors is a starting point, not the end. It’s where grace enters the picture. Ephesians 2:8 reminds us, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.” Grace doesn’t negate the need for shame; rather, it provides the means for moving beyond it.

Practical Steps to Growth

• Acknowledgment: Admitting our faults is the first step towards change.
• Seeking Forgiveness: This involves both asking God for forgiveness and seeking to mend our relationships with those we’ve wronged.
• Learning and Growing: Use your experiences of shame as lessons for personal growth.
• Resting in God’s Grace: Remember that your identity is not in your failures but in Christ.

Encouragement for the Journey

The journey from guilt to growth is not a solitary one. We’re reminded in Galatians 6:2 to “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Let’s not shun the feeling of shame, but use it as a tool for growth, encouragement, and positive change.

Have we lost the ability to feel ashamed? Perhaps in some ways, we have. But as Christians, we have the unique opportunity to reclaim shame as a step towards redemption and growth. It’s not about wallowing in guilt but about embracing the journey from conviction to grace. Let’s walk this path together, encouraged and ready to grow into the people God intends us to be.

Less than a week ago I had eye surgery. I haven’t said a whole lot about the nature of the surgery itself. I’ll say that it hasn’t been pleasant, but it wasn’t risky. I’m doing well, and can go back to work next week.

I’ve been homebound, which for an introvert isn’t the worst thing that can happen. What has been challenging, though, is that for the first few post-op days I had to restrict screen time – very limited computer, television, iPhone, all that. Nor could I read. Any of these activities made it feel like my eyeballs were melting and running down my cheeks. There’s an image for you – reference Raiders of the Lost Ark to complete the picture.

Thank God for Audible. There is nothing wrong with having someone else read to you.

What’s been interesting, and at times downright bizarre, is how aware I’ve been of time.

I never get bored. Seriously. I can always find something to do. Boredom seems to equate to time … the more you have on your hands, the more likely boredom becomes.

And yet, time rushes by. It doesn’t matter the state of your health, what you find to do with yourself, or how busy or idle you are. Time is time. Our perception of it is what makes it real to us. It doesn’t matter if you’re cleaning the bathtub or composing a symphony. It moves at the same pace regardless of my request to speed things up, or slow things down.

Laying on the couch with cold compresses over my eyes, in self-imposed darkness, I got to thinking about where the time has gone, and I’m talking about 67 years of time.

The usual thoughts crop up. Watching our kids grow up and start families. Experiencing body parts wearing out. Thinking about places I’ve lived, churches I’ve served, people who have crossed my path that made indelible impressions on me, and watching the seasons change.

To use a shopworn phrase: “It is what it is.” Time, I mean.

Know what I can do, though? In spite of the flow of time, I can make choices as how to use it. Things around me change all the time. I just need to make wise decisions in the midst of all that change. I am not powerless. I can choose. I have the power to choose.

You do, too. You can absolutely choose the quality of your life even if you can’t control the outcome of what’s happening around you.

What I’m seeing in these days are so many people yearning for a return to what once was, whatever that is to them. They don’t want to change unless it can take them back to a perceived better place.

Well, pilgrim, things do change, sometimes rapidly, and there is plenty that we’ll never go back to. We have to grapple with that.

I am not exempt from how life keeps moving in me and around me. And there’s a conclusion that is certain: unless Jesus delays his return (and I’m so dang ready for that!) then I am going to pass away. You too.

While that sounds grim, it’s really not. Our deaths should be a healthy consideration, because it helps us determine what we need to be about in the meantime.

It’s simple, really. We need to make wise choices. I can’t spend my life paralyzed thinking about how awful things are. I mean, we live in a fallen world. Should we expect anything other than awfulness?

What are we supposed to do, then?

Slow down a bit. (I’ve been forced to do that, and it ain’t all bad.)

We live in the midst of chaos, and it will continue relentlessly.

Try standing still.

You know what the end game is. I get the picture of storm-driven ocean waves crashing against a rock – the waves part and spray and the rock stays firm.

Beloved, you can actually choose to be that rock. Read that again. It’s absolutely true. Don’t play the victim. Don’t bemoan how awful things are. (And my mantra: Avoid the news, except for the things you can actually take action on. Feel free to watch sports and weather, though. Most everything else will put you in a dark place, and you don’t need to do that to yourself.)

Yeah, there are changes that need to be made. I’m not advocating abdicating your responsibilities as a parent, son, daughter, friend, citizen, church member, or anything like that. There are things to be improved, values to embrace and defend, and priorities to set.

Know this: if we’re going to make any changes, it’s time to do that right now, because time is limited. You have to choose, and you’re supernaturally equipped to do just that. Life is a gift, and a long(er) life isn’t guaranteed. How you choose will impact your present and shape your future.

In October of 2016 I gave up worrying. It didn’t seem to help. I recommend doing that.

Don’t let yourself get overwhelmed. Maybe just “whelmed.”

Ancient script has some good stuff to encourage you.

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Ephesians 5:15-16

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12

As always, believer, I feel obligated to share this: Whatever you’re facing, it’s gonna be alright. It always has been, and always will be. Without fail. Easy? Probably not. The ultimate victory? It’s all yours.

Choose wisely and make things more fulfilling and rewarding for yourself.

Talk later! Responses are encouraged and welcome.

What does it look like to be whole?

I want to be whole. I’ve been on this kick of moving from brokenness to wholeness. You probably have recognized this.

I’ve figured this out – not because I’m all that brilliant, but just because it’s self-evident. The thought is to be complete in Christ. That’s what it means to be whole. Without Him, there are simply missing pieces.

The implications are huge. It means that you thrive spiritually. It means that you live strong. It means that you are whole and complete.

So what does that look like? Let me share some good stuff from scripture. That’s my authority.

7 thoughts.

1 – It means that you aren’t looking for wholeness in places apart from God.

2 Corinthians 12:9 reads, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

It means that no one but God Himself can return you to wholeness. This is about grace, and the yearning of your heart. There are quick fixes out there, but they don’t last because they’re based in something that has no foundation.

Psalm 73:26 reads, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

2 – You can’t realistically expect other people to meet the needs only Jesus Christ can.

John 15:11 reads, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Relying on God is the only way you can be healed and fulfilled. This is a companion thought to #1. This one, though, has more to do with what you think people can do to make you whole.

I had a student tell me once, when referring to her boyfriend, “He completes me.” I get that; we need others, and we especially need others in relationships that help us with our shortcomings. Still, we’re still talking about completeness in the flesh here. Aim for eternal completion. Jesus does that.

Psalms 107:20 reads, “He sent forth his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave.”

3 – You realize your worth is not defined by your appearance, job performance, human relationships, or anything apart from your relationship with God as His child.

2 Corinthians 5:7 reads, “We live by faith, not by sight.”

This is tricky. We don’t think we’re whole because we aren’t measuring up to some standard out there. Truth is, though, that the relationship with God I’ve been speaking of is the only flawless source of your sense of worth. It’s not how you “look,” or how you think you’re perceived. How does God see you? He is what makes you whole, not some self- or society-imposed standard.

4 – Don’t say “It’s impossible.” God gives freedom. You are forgiven and loved no matter what. You show God gratitude by living in His light and making wise choices.

1 Peter 5:7 reads, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

You aren’t stuck. You are not broken forever. You can be whole. This casting anxiety thing? It’s a promise, because He does indeed care for you.

5 – You don’t live your life to please other people. Instead, you strive to please God by discovering your purpose in Him and living that to the max.

Psalm 94:19 reads, “When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.”

Can I just ‘fess up here and tell you that I want people to like me? I mean, the alternative is for people to dislike me, and that’s not especially appealing. You can’t please everyone, right? So, the obvious tactic is to please God. He’s got you here for a reason. He isn’t hiding that from you. Work that reason. Be joyful.

6 – Stop yourself immediately when an unhealthy thought enters your mind, and challenge it with “Does this thought line up with the word of God?”

Psalm 42:5 reads, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my savior and my God.”

What takes up headspace in your life? Here’s an absolute, incontrovertible truth: you are what you think about. Man, I could riff on that all day. I don’t need to, because you know exactly what I’m saying. It’s true.

7 – The battlefield is your mind, first and foremost.

2 Corinthians 10:5 reads, “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

Again, I’m piggybacking on a previous thought. But your mind, y’all! That’s where it goes down.

Here’s the cool thing. You have this superpower that distinguishes you and separates you from all the rest of creation:

You can choose. You can make choices. You can even make good choices.

That’s a big deal. By God’s grace and empowered by the indwelling Holy Spirit, you can choose the quality of your life. You can’t control the outcome of things – God does that – but in aligning yourself with Him and acting in obedience, things work out. Every time. Maybe not in the way you wanted or planned, but in a way that honors God and leads to your ultimate success.

I think that’s amazing. That’s being made whole.

Thoughts that lead to brokenness are the devil’s way of blocking what God wants you to know about who you are in Christ. You have to take those thoughts about yourself and lock them up. Make your mind listen to what God has to say about you. If you do, you will find wholeness.

Comments welcome. Talk soon!

I’m convinced that a huge chunk of our problems are caused by us being unable or unwilling to be quiet and still – to simply settle down.

Our default position in life is to be busy. We’re all busy, right? We have stuff that needs doing. We feel vaguely guilty if we aren’t doing something. We look at people who aren’t doing things and assume they’re lazy or unambitious.

Some even take pride in their busyness. It’s an issue of going to work, getting kids to places they need to be, voluntarily cramming days full of activity, and approaching life like a hummingbird in a hurricane. Gotta go. Gotta do. You can’t settle down.

Maybe this is a 21st century thing. Maybe it’s a uniquely western culture thing. Settle down? No way. There’s too much that needs doing. 

Here’s the question: do you take time to think? Do you self-evaluate? Do you work hard at being busy so that you purposely don’t have time to know who you are and what you should be not doing?

This is not the same as overthinking. (Tony raises his hand in acknowledgement of guilt.) No, this is simply saying “I need to settle down. I need to pause. I need to reconnect to Bigger Things. Busyness is not a virtue.”

Or, as the wise man said, “If the devil can’t make you bad, he’ll make you busy.”

Actually, this transcends good advice. It’s more like a command to settle down.

Psalm 46:10–11 (ESV): 10 “Be still, and know that I am God. 

      I will be exalted among the nations, 

      I will be exalted in the earth!” 

      11 The LORD of hosts is with us; 

      the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

Why do we not hold “being still” as a virtue any more? Why do we have to work so hard at being busy?

I’ll ‘fess up to having an overactive mind. (At least I still have a mind. I’ve decided not many folks do … or at least they don’t use them much.) My mind races. Thoughts stumble over each other. Focus is elusive. I’d say that many folks simply live life frantically. 

You may have an active family – you’re always going somewhere, or taking someone somewhere. It may be that in relationships – friends, families, romantic partners, mates – you can’t find the time for each other you need. You may be overwhelmed at work, and it reduces you to bone-crushing fatigue. Even church stuff … I’m reminded of the Methodist lady who said, “I’d be a Baptist if I thought it wouldn’t ruin my health.” We’re supposed to participate in a lot of church activities, right? And don’t get me started on the constant demanding bombardment of media – social media, news media, the vortex that is the Internet, and all the rest. Your brain can take only so much.

I guess the tendency bred into us early on is the sense we should always be doing something. To not do something is to be idle. We can’t settle down. 

So, I’ll take us back to that little phrase from the Psalmist: Be still, and know that I am God. That doesn’t seem to be optional. It sounds like a command to me.

God wants you to settle down. 

Here’s how this can happen. And I understand that sometimes busyness isn’t a choice. What I’m talking about is elective time … those moments when you choose to be still. And I won’t launch into a rant about time management, that you make time for what’s important, that everyone has 24 hours, your life isn’t any more busy than anyone else’s. You know that already, and I don’t need to remind you. Time is the great leveler in life. Everyone gets the same ration.

So, choosing to settle down. Here are five thoughts.

1. Concentrate. This is about focus. This means when you have something that needs doing, you just do it. It’s being singleminded. It’s saying “for the next 25 minutes, I am not gonna let anything disturb my thought process.” That means no outside influences. And you may be thinking, “dude, I have toddlers.” I just bet that at some point they sleep. Or that you can get up before they do. This also means no multitasking. I don’t know who in the heck put that idea into our heads that we need to juggle a bunch of things at once. It doesn’t work. Concentrate on the task at hand. Focus, focus, focus. 
2. Meditate. This is all about spiritual focus. Jesus time, if you will. It, for instance, means grabbing a Bible passage, soaking in it, seeing God in it, and giving yourself time for it to take root. I personally don’t think you can achieve a true godly meditative state in five minutes, but it’s better than nothing.
3. Think. Gosh, y’all, this is so self-evident. How many times have we wounded ourselves because we did or said something without thinking? We were created to be emotional creatures, and that’s fine. But, so help me, believe this: while most decisions we make are ultimately rooted in how we feel, feelings are lousy when it comes to dictating choices or behavior. Settle down. Think. Then act.
4. Consider and pursue. This is Thinking, Part 2. Weigh options. Be open to counsel. Seek to have the Mind of Christ. Settle down, make the choice, and go for it, as in pursue the outcome. I can be indecisive with the best of ‘em, and I am prone to second guess, but ultimately, it’s putting your hand to the plow and not looking back.
5. Lie down in green pastures. I love that imagery from Psalm 23. Lie down. That’s taking “settle down” to the next level. I like to think of myself flat on my back, under the shade of the canopy of a tree, and yet still being able to see white clouds and blue skies. Just be still. Shhhh. Don’t disturb me. God may have something He wants me to hear, and I can’t hear if there’s a lot of racket going on.

Isaiah knew a little about this … check out Isaiah 30:15:

This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:

“In repentance and rest is your salvation,

    in quietness and trust is your strength,

    but you would have none of it.”

I don’t know why we would “have none of it.” Maybe we’re afraid of repentance, rest, quiet, and trust. I need to think about that a little more.

All this means is that there is an absolute necessity of rest. Relax. Settle down. Through this you gain strength, your mind is clearer, and you can face all of life’s crazy challenges supernaturally ready.

This: you just have to take time to think through what you’re facing in your life without overthinking. You can’t just go blasting through situations forlornly hoping things will improve. You have to be refreshed by God’s mercy, goodness, grace, and faithfulness – and you can’t do that if you’re running around. You have to settle down.

When you settle down, know that you will receive encouragement. You’ll be sweetly refreshed. You’ll be able to care for those you love without depleting your own reserves. God calls you to be still and know Him.

That’s your plan.

Talk later!

Let’s talk about the judge and the hero. This is sort of a heart cry for me today.

I know this isn’t literally doable, but think what it would be like to write down every thought you’ve ever had and giving it to someone who would read every word.

Every single word.

And after reading it, they would judge you.

Speaking for me. Bruh. That’s downright scary. It doesn’t matter if they have any power over you because of their knowledge. Just them knowing is terrifying enough.

Believers and non-believers both, here’s the truth. God is the judge. He sees our list.

We are guilty, oh yes we are. But then our hero comes.

When our hero – Jesus – comes, and we come fully to grips with our sin, then we can come to fully treasure Him. Because of His sacrifice, God looks at us and sees the sinless life of Jesus. He doesn’t see the darkness of our hearts, but sees purity instead.

This, of course, is not some new revelation. It’s Theology 101. This is a bedrock of our faith. The problem is that for a whole host of reasons we struggle to internalize this and make it a reality in our lives. If all this is too simplistic for you, you can safely navigate away from this blog. But I got more to say.

As long as we live on earth, that new and pure spirit we received when we believed is going to do bloody, messy battle with our old sin nature.

So I want you to struggle right along with me today. Buckle up.

This all comes from a verse that fundamentally gripped me earlier today. I can’t shake it. Here ya go:

Jeremiah 17:10: I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward each person according to their conduct, according to what their deeds deserve. (New International Version)

And from the New Living Translation – you know, for variety:

I the Lord look into the heart, and test the mind. I give to each man what he should have because of his ways and because of the fruit that comes from his works.

That circles us back around to the idea of our judge and our hero … one in the same, actually. How do you balance this?

• Yes, I’m guilty. Yes, I am forgiven.
• Yes, You judge me. Yes, You cleanse me.
• Yes, I deserve Your wrath. Yes, Jesus takes the full force of it.

Have mercy. Mercy.

This stirs up a lot of questions. I think it’s appropriate to ask “Lord, is there anything in my life right now that would keep me from hearing from You? Because I don’t want to block or hinder You … I need to receive.”

This scripture needs to be teased out, because it’s critical to our understanding.

• I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind. Well, yeah. He’s God. And it’s not like He has too much going on to not be aware of everything in your head and heart.
• To reward each person according to their conduct … Apparently what we do and how we act does have some bearing on how our lives go.
• According to what their deeds deserve. So, in other words, we get what’s coming to us, and what that is is totally up to God.

How does that make you feel? Burdened? Heavy? Fearful? Shame? How does that make you feel about Jesus? Because – and this is huge – He takes what you deserve. That’s the hero part.

Maybe you’re feeling something new or unexpected as that sinks in.

There are several things to be thankful for here:

1. The Creator of the universe knows you.
2. He is concerned about your heart.
3. He has provided relief in Christ.

Jeremiah was called the “weeping prophet.” His heart ached for his people. His book is all about God’s judgment on Judah for its runaway, awful idolatry. They were putting their own motives and desires ahead of those for God. (Sounds kinda familiar … even in the church.)

It was a timely message then, and a timely message now.

God knew their hearts. He knows ours. Yours. Mine.

My convoluted mind takes me in all sorts of directions. I can imagine myself sitting in the presence of God, trying to write out all my thoughts. I can imagine Him correcting me when I leave one out.

I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I’d like for it to feel cleansing.

Think about emptying yourself before God. It’d be like a complete moral inventory. This might be a good time to take a deep breath and ask Him for that feeling of being cleansed.

Don’t choke on this, but the wrath God feels toward the sin in your heart – your inventory – is the same it was when Jeremiah wrote this 600 years before Christ.

Since we’ve dug this deep, let’s dig some more. This might be a real challenge, but join me anyway. I’m gonna invoke your sanctified imagination.

Imagine standing in the ring with the heavyweight boxing champion of the world. Currently it’s Tyson Fury (a great Avengers name). This guy is a massive human … a walking picture of strength and power.

Here’s some scary trivia: The average professional heavy weight boxer hits at between 1,200 to 1,700 pounds per square inch, or psi. Legendary boxer Mike Tyson had a punch that was measured at 1,800 psi, or almost one ton of force per square inch. Pounds per square inch is usually measured using pressure gauges, but for boxing measurements, special machines are used. These machines calculate how hard a punch is by measuring the power of the punch at impact, calculating the size of the impact zone, and converting that to psi. So if a punch is 1,500 psi and covers four square inches of space, it is the equivalent of 6,000 pounds of impact. That’s about the weight of three black rhinoceroses.

Now, imagine getting struck in the chest by those three rhinos. You can’t imagine that. Try anyway.

Imagine that punch being the wrath of God. The judge. You receive His full fury because of your inventory of sins.

Okay. So now – imagine Jesus stepping into the ring and in front of that punch. He takes the full force of it, all of it. Imagine that. Let it be your prayer.

What do you whisper to Jesus as He stands up from that punch? As He is resurrected from a punch intended for you that should have killed Him? What do you say to Him?

What do you say to your moral inventory?

God is both the righteous Judge and merciful Father. He’s all good, and by His nature He can’t have anything to do with evil. You have evil in your heart, as do I. Think of the things you’ve thought and done and said.

He knows those completely. And yet, we’re forgiven completely.

It’s entirely appropriately to ask God to purify your thoughts and to root out the  darkness in your soul.

Here’s an optional extra credit activity. Begin to literally write out your inventory. Open your heart to God’s examination. Be thankful to Jesus for scratching out each one of them in real time as you write them. I’ve done this in the past, and it was nothing less than a little miracle.

He’s your judge, but He’s also your hero. Claim that.

Talk later!

“Change, and the world will change for you.” That means that I am responsible for much of my well-being.

That’s another one of those quotes that I can’t credit to anyone, other than noting it’s not original with me. It didn’t show up in a Google search. Maybe it was Napoleon Hill. And it’s a good’un.

Here are the implications:

• The way things are now aren’t the way they have to remain.
• If you aren’t happy with your current situation or circumstances, you can choose to make it different …
• … OR if change is out of your control, then you can change yourself. That is NOT out of your control.

This is so not me, by the way. My self-discipline, even on a good day, is on life support. And I am responsible for that.

It is infinitely easier to be a victim. It’s easier to state or believe that everything I experience, everything I am surrounded by, is due to some malicious intent on the part of God, who delights in making me miserable. He does this by engineering events, putting me in the path of jerks, and inflicting me with pain of various sorts.

Not.

That’s not the God I know.

I haven’t wanted this blog to be preachy, because I cordially dislike being preached to myself. I try to be mindful of folks reading this, because if their belief system doesn’t match up with orthodox Christianity, I don’t want them to get bored and wander off. Having said that … what I want to share is deeply rooted in my Christian worldview, and if that’s not your bag, stick around anyway. I’ll post something more palatable for you later. Or not; I’m gonna be true to who I am and what He means to me. I just want you to find real value here.

Anyway. In order for this to take root, you are going to have to learn to say an unpleasant phrase, and mean it when you say it:

“I am responsible.”

Did you choke when you said it? Then you must not have meant it.

Because here’s what you’re saying: You are saying that the condition of your life, your state of mind, your emotions are all your responsibility. Other people aren’t responsible for them. Your mama isn’t responsible for them. Society isn’t responsible for them. The government isn’t responsible for them. Nor are other family members, your boss, your professor, your coach, or your mynah bird. You are responsible.

This is both terrifying and liberating. It’s scary because now you don’t have anyone to blame for your situation. It’s liberating because now you don’t have anyone to blame on your situation. You wrestle with it because now your attitude is “I am responsible for this,” and you are right. So to get your situation  right, you must get yourself right. You do that by assuming you brought things on yourself, and even if you didn’t, you’ve brought your mindset onto yourself.

Don’t get all high and mighty on me. “Now Tony,” you say, “you don’t understand what I’ve been through. You don’t know the toxic people in my life. You don’t know what seeing my mama wrestle a bull when I was two years old did to me.”

Fine. Point taken. But your story is my story. It’s a universal tale. We all face grief and hardship. We all struggle. And more often than not, we are responsible for it all.

If you want to prove this to yourself, here’s a little exercise for you. It’ll sober you up pretty quickly.

• Take a sheet of paper. Draw a line down the middle of it.
• At the top of the left column, write “Unhappy Situation.” At the top of the right column, write “I am responsible because…”
• Start writing. Write down a situation, and across from it, write how you are responsible for it.

This can be an excruciating exercise. If you enter into it with the intent of being honest, you will learn some things about yourself that you may wish that you didn’t have to acknowledge.

There are some followup questions to make this even more telling:

• What are your major excuses for not making progress or changing?
• What are the situations that make you mad?
• What are you blaming on others when you become angry?

… and the biggie –

• What will you do differently because of what you have learned?

Obviously, there is no quick fix. Actually, that’s not completely true. I believe making the choice to accept responsibility can be made immediately, at any time. The process of life change because of that decision might take some time.

I can encourage you. As I’ve pointed out before, you can change whenever you want to. Change should give birth to hope, because it proves you aren’t trapped. Best of all, you are in the grip of One who loves you immensely. Roll with that.

“Do the next right thing.” That’s pretty much a call to action, right?

The problem with follow-through is complicated, though.

• You have analyzed your situation until you’re paralyzed.
• You’re not comfortable where you are, but it’s more comfortable to stay there than it is to take a risky step.
• You aren’t even sure what the next right thing is.

If you’re a Disney fan (and, unapologetically, I’m one of the most passionate), you may recognize “The Next Right Thing” as the title of a song from Frozen 2. If that leaves you saying “Huh?”, never fear. I’ll get you caught up.

© Disney

Without getting bogged down in the plot (which is really dense and thought provoking), we have a character named Anna. Anna is one of two sisters from the mythical kingdom of Arendelle. (Maybe it’s not all that mythical!)

You’ll need to watch Frozen 2 to appreciate this (and Frozen too, of course. Trust your Uncle Tony on this.)

At the darkest point in the movie, when Anna thinks she’s lost her sister Elsa and the beloved snowman Olaf, she sings this:

I’ve seen dark before
But not like this
This is cold
This is empty
This is numb
The life I knew is over
The lights are out
Hello, darkness
I’m ready to succumb

I follow you around
I always have
But you’ve gone to a place I cannot find
This grief has a gravity
It pulls me down
But a tiny voice whispers in my mind
You are lost, hope is gone
But you must go on
And do the next right thing

Can there be a day beyond this night?
I don’t know anymore what is true
I can’t find my direction, I’m all alone
The only star that guided me was you
How to rise from the floor
When it’s not you I’m rising for?
Just do the next right thing
Take a step, step again
It is all that I can to do
The next right thing

I won’t look too far ahead
It’s too much for me to take
But break it down to this next breath
This next step
This next choice is one that I can make

So I’ll walk through this night
Stumbling blindly toward the light
And do the next right thing
And with the dawn, what comes then?
When it’s clear that everything will never be the same again
Then I’ll make the choice
To hear that voice
And do the next right thing*

This. Do the next right thing. The song is a study in depression – not what most folks would anticipate from a Disney movie.

Kristen Bell portrayed Anna. Here’s what she said about the song:

A lot of people feel that feeling: What do I do when I don’t know what to do? My personal mantra is you just do the next right thing. It also stems from when I am experiencing anxiety and depression. What do I do when I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning? You just do the next right thing, and that’s stepping out of bed. The next right thing is brushing your teeth. The next right thing is eating your breakfast. The next right thing is looking at your calendar and going to work. This idea of having an intrinsic motivation versus extrinsic motivation is something that as a parent I know is incredibly important to show kids and to help them cope. I really wanted Anna to be representative of that.

You’re probably way ahead of me already. This is a blog about encouragement.

Between the song lyrics and Kristen Bell’s astute observations, I don’t have a lot to add. But I’ll try to help us collectively determine what the next right thing is for us.

• You may be in a mental and emotional place that is really bleak. Or not; perhaps you’ve been there in the past and know you could easily be there again. It’s in your nature, right?
• You look toward the future. Maybe it isn’t hopeless, but it IS discouraging at the very least.
• You tend to project your anxiety because of all the “what if’s.”

Let’s make some progress here.

• You are not psychic. Maybe you think you are. Fact is, while you may have some sense of what’s coming next, there is no way you can know every detail of the future.
• If you’re a Believer, then your future is already secure. That doesn’t mean that you won’t face some excruciating challenges, but the final outcome is settled.
• If you don’t know what to do – right now – then take some counsel. The next right thing might be to simply stand up and stretch. Eat something. Latch onto at least one thing you are thankful for (a pulse? Somewhere to sleep? An upcoming meal?)
• After you’ve done that thing, take a deep breath. Then do another thing.
• These are baby steps, but they are steps. They are actions. They are little victories. Compounded, you can engineer a whole stretch of wins.
• Don’t wait until you feel like doing the next right thing. Do something anyway. Your feelings will catch up.
• There is no shame in letting someone you trust know you’re struggling. I can’t stress this enough. And if you don’t have anyone trustworthy enough or understanding enough in your life, there is plenty of help available.

This is all personal to me, no doubt. Since my head injury, depression is an unpleasant addition to my life. I am progressively getting better, and I’m so grateful for that. I’ve learned, though, that my improvement is largely in my own hands. I can’t passively sit around wishing things were different. I’m not ready for postmortems yet.

Sometimes you simply have to act. Do the next right thing.

Be blessed.

Tony’s Question: Without going into any detail – a simple yes or no would work here – do you know what the next right thing is in your own life? Share, if you’re comfortable doing so.

*Written by: Kristen Anderson-Lopez, Robert Lopez

Lyrics © Walt Disney Music Company

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

I’ve been thinking about what we’ve lost in recent months. Those of us who are baby boomers are living in, uh, interesting days. Bob Dylan nailed it when, decades ago, he wrote “the times, they are a-changin’.” We of a certain age were alive when Sputnik was launched, and when man walked on the moon; we remember where we were when Kennedy was assassinated; and in later years, we remember Viet Nam, Nixon’s resignation after Watergate, the Berlin Wall coming down … we may even remember Woodstock and the 60’s. Those were days of extraordinary social and political upheaval. We see the world differently because of those days.

Now we are in a period of social change that I believe, subjectively, dwarfs what went on in previous decades. It seems that what was once good is now evil; what was virtuous is now a lie; and what were once the moral pillars of our society are crumbling. It seems that change is upon us daily, and it is not change for the better. It’s what we’ve lost that is so troubling. 

It seems we’re balanced on a knife’s edge – one haphazard move and we slip off into the Abyss as a country.

As believers, we watch centuries of the best of biblical scholarship and Christian orthodoxy become twisted to fit unholy agendas. We see double standards at work in the media, where Christians are maligned but other religious groups are accommodated and embraced in the name of political correctness.

My response to all this is a profound sense recognizing what we’ve lost.

Sometimes I think about the plight of Native Americans in our country when the Europeans came. I’m not going to debate the why’s of their often terrible treatment – what’s done is done. But consider: here are these indigenous people, living their lives without intrusion, when others come and stake claims on their lands. Before long, wars break out. The mindset among many newcomers toward the Indians was “We’re more enlightened, more educated, more cultured than you are. We know what’s best for you. And through the reach of our government, we are going to see to it that you comply with our laws and mandates. Cooperate, and all will go well for you. If you choose not to cooperate, there will be penalties.” These newcomers were persuaded they were on the right side of history.

This may be a tortured analogy, and certainly it would be naïve to compare what American Christians are facing these days to what American Indians were subjected to.

But I think about those native peoples who had their lives turned upside down.

I’m sure they felt extraordinary loss because their way of life had been wrested from them. It appears that American Christians are losing their way of life too – not in dramatic ways (we aren’t being persecuted as other believers in the Middle East are, for instance), but in the most subtle and subversive of ways. It’s seeing what we’ve lost or are losing. We’re being told “We’re more enlightened, more educated, more cultured than you are. We know what’s best for you. And through the reach of our government, we are going to see to it that you comply with our laws and mandates. Cooperate, and all will go well for you. If you choose not to cooperate, there will be penalties.” There are many in government and in society who feel they’re on the right side of history, too.

However, think about this: for the Christian, this is as bad as it will ever get. But for the non-believer, this is as good as it’s ever going to be.

I’m not advocating retiring from humanity, climbing a mountain, and waiting in solitude for the End of Days. I would suggest, though, that we be mindful of the truth that this is not our home. We are pilgrims here. Exiles. We are, by birthright, out of step and out of synch with the culture. If we conform to the changes around us, then we can’t be salt and light to the culture. At the same time, if we don’t engage the culture, then the salt remains in the shaker and the light stays under a basket. We have to adapt as missionaries, but we also have to confront wickedness.

The challenge is plain. The world won’t love us for the stand we take.

We have to embrace the biblical combination of conviction in God’s truth and compassion for His creation. We don’t do that by standing off at a distance and hollering. All of us should love others, even those who hold views contrary to ours and might even want us silenced. I see the world as perverse, abnormal, and destructive – and we must be willing to lay down our lives in love for those who are citizens of that world. Christ Himself personified this.

His example is our call.

I was thinking earlier about the moment I became a grownup.

That’s probably a false statement. I may not be a grownup even yet. This adult thing hasn’t worked out well for me.

Still, you and I can look back on events in our lives that were real mileposts. Markers that changed our lives, for better or worse.

There are little things along the way that led up to the moment I became a grownup.

I was raised in the little southern Alabama town of Elba. It is the county seat of Coffee County. It’s my ancestral home. My parents were both from there.

I never lived anywhere else until I went to college, and Troy [State] University was only about thirty miles down the road. It was close enough for me to run home between classes to drop off some dirty clothes and pick up some clean ones. God bless my mama. She looked after her until she wasn’t able to anymore. She died of cancer; died with dignity. She was like that.

I was an only child – or, technically, I grew up an only child. I had a sister, Jill, who was born several years before me. Jill only lived seven hours. I still tend to think of her as my little sister. I’m looking forward to meeting her one day.

I was spoiled. Not spoiled rotten. There is a difference.

So the moment I became a grownup had to be because I’d risen above that secure little cocoon of my home and town.

I graduated from Mrs. Clark’s kindergarten – that was a big deal. I was grateful I hadn’t been held back because I failed flower bringing or something. At our graduation, we wore pastel caps and gowns. I think mine was a pale green.

That wasn’t adulthood.

I remember the first day of first grade at Elba Elementary School. Mrs. Violet Rainer was my teacher. My first meal in the lunchroom was a hamburger, french fries, applesauce, and milk. The milk wasn’t in a carton. It was in a conical little cup, nestled in a metal pedestal stand. I didn’t eat my applesauce.

I made it through elementary school unscathed.

I’m not a grownup yet.

Then there was middle school, and high school. In retrospect, all this was pretty uneventful. I was a repulsively good kid. I just didn’t get in any trouble. Any rebellion I had was internalized. I made decent grades (and was always reminded how much better I could do if I would “just apply myself.”)

There was a girlfriend or two in those days. Nothing really came of all that. At the time romance was the biggest deal ever. Looking back, it was still a big deal to young Tony. Having worked with teenagers for decades, I know not to make light of relationships. As they say, puppy love isn’t easy if you’re the puppy.

My life pretty much centered around church and band. Back then, band was cool. It’s still cool; just a different kind of cool, I suppose. I loved it.

Church was the ever-constant anchor. I was uber-involved. I received Jesus Christ as my savior when I was eleven. Then I acknowledged a call to full-time Christian vocational ministry when I was sixteen. (Or, as is quaintly said, “I surrendered to the ministry.” That makes it sound like there was some horrific struggle. I didn’t struggle. It was just the thing to do, and I’ve never doubted that call.) This was the single most important event in my life, but it still wasn’t the moment I became a grownup.

I graduated from high school in 1974.

I’m still not a grownup, even after I turned eighteen. I guess, legally, I was an adult, but it had all to do with what the calendar said and not how I thought or felt.

So I’ll return to my college experiences.

I took the CLEP (College Level Examination Program) while in high school. I don’t know if its as widely accepted by colleges as it was back then. If you did well on the test, you were able to bypass certain classes, because it counted toward college credit. I did well enough to skip my freshman year and enroll as a sophomore. And no, I’m not that smart. I didn’t do anything to prepare. I’ve just historically done really well with those sorts of tests.

So here’s Tony, small town, conservative kid, thrown into college life. It was an eye opener. Oh, Lawdy. It was parties, and drinking, and all-night debauchery, and I’d never seen the like. There was a little school thrown in the mix, too.

I started out as a journalism major. It seemed like fun, because I’d always loved to write. After that first quarter, I added a second major – speech and theater. More fun – I’d auditioned for and got a role in a play, “The Visit.” I thought “these are my people,” and you can keep your snarky comments about theater majors to yourself, thank you very much.

I got close to several of my peers. The drama group at Troy was a mixed group, I can assure you. Think “Glee.” There were gay and straight, musically inclined and others who were tone deaf, dancers and non-dancers, devout Christians and some anything but, partiers and sensible conservative types – you get the picture. Yet we were all in this thing together, and for the most part did we not only get along, we enjoyed each other’s company.

The moment I became an adult, though, was around the passing of a young man named Ken.

I’ll share how his life intersected mine next week. This was the moment I became an adult.

Tony’s question: Is there a significant moment or event in your life that you believe was the time you became a grownup? We’d love to hear your story. Comment below!

How do you know if you’re part of change that lasts?

A phrase I’ve heard a lot here lately is “tipping point.” In our current context, the question is: “Is the horrific death of George Floyd the tipping point to bring racial inequality to a resolution and change?”

I don’t know.

There have been plenty of events in history that were indeed tipping points. They brought about change that lasts. It hasn’t always been good change, but change nonetheless.

Subjectively again, the George Floyd tragedy somehow “feels” different for me. Ask me in 10 years if this was indeed a tipping point. We should know something by then.

What I’m more interested in today is your personal tipping point. What happens in your own life to bring about change that lasts?

Here’s my thesis: If it was genuine, it will last.

We’ve all been caught up in emotions and had all the “feels.” Then, when the emotions subside and the feels go away, we’re back to where we once were. I’m not discrediting the human need to feel good. We all know that feelings can be great betrayers. They will for sure lie to you.

So how do you recognize authenticity? How do you know if something is genuine?

If you want change that lasts, it needs to be because God has ordained it.

We could spend some time discussing what it means to hear God’s voice, how to distinguish it from the myriad other voices we’re being bombarded with. For me, it tends to be a still, small voice – although there have been times when God has had to holler at me to get my attention.

Here’s what I mean. Let’s say you’ve been faced with a personal crisis or need. If you’re a believer, you sought God for clarity, comfort, and direction. You acted as best you knew how.

You felt great. Life had purpose. There was a sense of direction. You forged ahead.

And then …

• After a few weeks, you went back into the world.
• You lived like the world.
• You acted like the world.
• All the promises you made vanished.
• Your head is back to just like it was.

Sure you got emotional. Things “felt right.” You got emotion. You thought you had change that lasts.

If you got it from the Lord, though – if it was of Him and not of you – then I want you to know it will last. 

Less of me. More of Him.

That is one of the great errors of our time. I’ve heard plenty of persuasive arguments. It would be easy to go with the ones that “feel right.”

If they are wrong, then history – personal and public – will eventually tell the tale.

Guard your heart. Make wise decisions. Don’t be swayed by populist voices if they aren’t from God.

And if it’s from God, even if you try to run away from it, you won’t be able to. That’s change that lasts.