Sometimes I run across something that is so meaningful, so provocative, and so timely that I simply stand back in awe.

What I’m sharing today is by way of Trevin Wax – one of the most first-class intellects I’ve ever experienced, and who is a joy to be around.

I was in a meeting with him a couple of years ago, and he shared with us some musings from Clyde S. Kilby.  I wasn’t familiar with this gentleman, but I’ve since learned that he was an American writer and English professor, best known for his scholarship on the Inklings, especially J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis. Kilby was born in Johnson City, Tennessee, and died in Columbus, Mississippi. That makes him one of my people.

If you know much about me, you’ll understand that this got my attention real quick.

Kilby wrote ten resolutions for mental and spiritual flourishing. I wish I had a fraction of his insight and writing ability.

I’m pleased to share them with you. Be challenged, and be blessed! It’s far better than anything I could have done on my own today.

1. At least once every day I shall look steadily up at the sky and remember that I, a consciousness with a conscience, am on a planet traveling in space with wonderfully mysterious things above and about me.

 

2. Instead of the accustomed idea of a mindless and endless evolutionary change to which we can neither add nor subtract, I shall suppose the universe guided by an Intelligence which, as Aristotle said of Greek drama, requires a beginning, a middle, and an end. I think this will save me from the cynicism expressed by Bertrand Russell before his death when he said: “There is darkness without, and when I die there will be darkness within. There is no splendor, no vastness anywhere, only triviality for a moment, and then nothing.”

 

3. I shall not fall into the falsehood that this day, or any day, is merely another ambiguous and plodding twenty-four hours, but rather a unique event, filled, if I so wish, with worthy potentialities. I shall not be fool enough to suppose that trouble and pain are wholly evil parentheses in my existence, but just as likely ladders to be climbed toward moral and spiritual manhood.

 

4. I shall not turn my life into a thin, straight line which prefers abstractions to reality. I shall know what I am doing when I abstract, which of course I shall often have to do.

 

5. I shall not demean my own uniqueness by envy of others. I shall stop boring into myself to discover what psychological or social categories I might belong to. Mostly I shall simply forget about myself and do my work.

 

6. I shall open my eyes and ears. Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are. I shall joyfully allow them the mystery of what Lewis calls their “divine, magical, terrifying and ecstatic” existence.

 

7. I shall sometimes look back at the freshness of vision I had in childhood and try, at least for a little while, to be, in the words of Lewis Carroll, the “child of the pure unclouded brow, and dreaming eyes of wonder.”

 

8. I shall follow Darwin’s advice and turn frequently to imaginative things such as good literature and good music, preferably, as Lewis suggests, an old book and timeless music.

 

9. I shall not allow the devilish onrush of this century to usurp all my energies but will instead, as Charles Williams suggested, “fulfill the moment as the moment.” I shall try to live well just now because the only time that exists is now.

 

10. Even if I turn out to be wrong, I shall bet my life on the assumption that this world is not idiotic, neither run by an absentee landlord, but that today, this very day, some stroke is being added to the cosmic canvas that in due course I shall understand with joy as a stroke made by the architect who calls himself Alpha and Omega.

Talk soon. Comments welcome!

You should never give up. It’s easy to just call it quits, y’know? And perhaps there are times when you need to say, “I got nuthin’. I don’t need to continue this track. I need to protect myself.”

Granted. That’s not what I’m talking about. In one sense, there are times when it’s absolutely appropriate to back away. Rather, I’m talking about throwing in the proverbial towel just because things are horrendously tough.

There are times when I’ve given up, to my own shame. Whatever challenges I faced before giving up may have even gotten worse because I simply quit … because I wanted to avoid any discomfort or potential hurt.

”Quitter.” Who wants that title? If you never give up, then being a “quitter” isn’t an issue.

I want to believe that “quitting” isn’t the same thing as being a “quitter.” But to never give up? That’s not always been true of me.

• As a youth minister, there were times when I’ve given up on a wayward kid. My attitude was “I’ve given you my best shot, but we’re done. I don’t love you any less, but we’re done.”
• There have been other times when I’ve given up on other people. Maybe I just felt like I didn’t have any reason to continue a relationship.
• Projects and goals? Have mercy. I have half-read books, half-written articles and even books, abandoned budgets, a couple , gazillion diets and health improvement gigs, and heaven knows what else.

I could go on, but I won’t, because I want you to have your own list in mind.

Make no mistake – as I’ve stated, it is acceptable to fold your tent and move on if it’s the thing to do. But when I say “never give up,” I’m talking about quitting just because it’s hard.

So you should never give up, and here are five reasons why.

1.  You’ll be better able to deal with your fears.

When we give up, it’s often because we’re simply afraid. There may be some boogeyman out there waiting to pounce … we quit because the unknown is really scary. Rather than take an acceptable risk, we just turn tail and run.

But if you persevere, you may just find that what was scaring you so badly was all in your head. So never give up just because you’re afraid.

2.  Your past doesn’t determine your future.

We all have regrets. There are things we see in our mental rear view mirrors that threaten to overtake us. We carry scars from bad experiences, bad relationships, and bad choices.

Well, that was then and this is now. While we are products of days gone by, we aren’t trapped in them. We can choose wisely because we’ve learned from what happened back whenever.

We don’t know the future. But we do know that it’ll be different from the past, and we have real choices as to how our future will unfold. Never give up just because there’s some bad stuff back there. Key phrase? It’s back there. 

3.  Failure is important.

Did you choke on that one?

It is important, and plays a big part in your desire to never give up. If you fail, you evaluate what happened, apply whatever lessons you can learn from it, and move the heck on. I’d classify this as “tough self-love.”

If you’ve failed, it’s evidence that you least attempted something. It didn’t work. It could have been a relational failure, a monetary failure, or just a dumb move.

Zig Ziglar said it best: “Failure is an event, not a person.” So don’t beat yourself up. If you’ve failed, it may end up being one of the best things that could’ve happened

4.  You’re better prepared for whatever comes your way.

I like this thought. Think about it. When you’re challenged and you’re ready to call it a day, you still want to never give up. It’s simple. Perseverance now leads to perseverance in the future.

You prove to yourself that you’re able to call on resources you didn’t know you had. And those little victories of self-control and self-discipline are building blocks for events to come.

Even now, you can probably look back on those little moments when, by golly, you held fast. You did it then; do it now.

5.  You can call on the supernatural strength that comes from God.

Don’t overlook this. You never give up because you aren’t facing life alone.

I think other writers have said it more eloquently than me.

“We are always in the forge, or on the anvil; by trials God is shaping us for higher things.” – Henry Ward Beecher

“God knows our situation; He will not judge us as if we had no difficulties to overcome. What matters is the sincerity and perseverance of our will to overcome them.” – C. S. Lewis

“Nothing paralyzes our lives like the attitude that things can never change. We need to remind ourselves that God can change things. Outlook determines outcome. If we see only the problems, we will be defeated; but if we see the possibilities in the problems, we can have victory.” – Warren Wiersby

And, of course, ancient script:

Romans 5:3-5

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

James 1:2-4

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

That’s some good stuff right there. I don’t have anything to add.

Never give up.

Winston Churchill never gave a speech in which he said, “Never give up.” But he did give one where he said “Never give in.” It seems appropriate, and I’d encourage you to read the whole thing for context. Here’s a quote:

But for everyone, surely, what we have gone through in this period — I am addressing myself to the School — surely from this period of ten months this is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never-in nothing, great or small, large or petty — never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense.

Talk later.

 

“Why me?” Have you ever asked that?

I have, and I’ll bet you have too. I don’t think it’s because any of us feel entitled, but it is a natural response when things are piling up on us.

Why me? It’s a hard question. I’ve prayed plenty of prayers that started out with “Why…?”

Several years ago I was serving a church in Florida. In a sister church in town, a young couple were in a car accident. The husband had a significant brain injury and was in a coma. His wife died on the scene. So when this man came out of the coma, he awoke to learn that he was a widower with two preschool children.

That seems horrifically unfair. His statement was simple, according to the youth minister at the church: “Why me?”

That’s a basic, primal question.

You may think about this story and think, “That’s not all that bad compared to what I’ve faced in my life.” Perhaps. It’s hard to be objective when you’re the one that’s hurting. We do tend to judge our troubles on a scale when comparing ourselves to others.

Here’s the fact, though: In this life, you’re going to have challenges and pain. It comes with having a pulse. Your reponse might be to ask, “Why me?”

I’d encourage you not to feel bad about asking that. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or unspiritual. It just means you want answers.

Here’s a scriptural reality check:

• Yet man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward.  – Job 5:7
• Anyone born of woman is short of days and full of trouble. – Job 14:1
• For all his days are filled with grief, and his occupation is sorrowful; even at night, his mind does not rest. This too is futile. – Ecclesiastes 2:23
• Why did I come out of the womb to see only struggle and sorrow, to end my life in shame? – Jeremiah 20:18

I could go on, but I don’t need to. These are honest statements that could easily lead to a “why me?”

There is a companion thought, and this won’t win me any popularity contests, especially here at Thanksgiving: “Why not me?”

If problems and heartbreak are part of the human condition, then “why not me?” is an equally valid question, even if it’s unpleasant to think about.

Whatever grief you’re facing, you aren’t unique. You aren’t singled out.

You may be familiar with my testimony of recent months: floods, surgeries, cancer, brain injury, murder, have all been part of my story. And this isn’t a plea for sympathy, or me using this platform to play on your emotions. My story is your story. We all have troubles. It’s universal, right?

I can  ask “Why not me?” knowing that I’m not special. I am not alone.

There isn’t any inherent comfort there. So I have to dig a little deeper. If I want to be truly thankful, there are a few more layers to peel back.

I’ve come to realize there is a natural progression for me. Maybe all of us, if we’d just take time to evaluate things.

I’m about to go all scriptural on you, because that’s all I have. It’s also all I need.

Check this out:

Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in everything; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” – 1 Thessalonians 5:16 – 18.

There is an obvious truth in these verses. The command is not to be thankful for everything (how could you be thankful for the death of a child, for instance?), but rather to give thanks in everything. There is quite the difference.

It’s a matter of recognizing that we gratefully acknowledge God’s hand in all circumstances. Circumstances change, but God does not.

The challenge is for us to remain aware of God’s goodness regardless of what things seem to be on the surface.

I don’t have to tell you that’s not easy, especially when our emotions have gripped us and our feelings are all over the map.

Part of it is just realizing there is a lot going on around us that we’ll never be aware of. That’s where the “why me?” comes in. Maybe part of it simply means that we are to be open to God in all situations and recognize that not only is He aware of what we’re facing, but that He already knows the outcome.

We can, then, ask “why me” but we also understand He’s under no obligation to answer. I’m guessing that has something to do with faith and free will.

There’s a third step, then. Here’s the progression:

• Why me?
• Why not me?
• Why me?

That third “why me?” There are some sweet promises in that one.

Here’s a hypothetical:

Say a man loses his beloved wife. He asks, “Why me?”

Then he comes to realize that people lose loved ones. All the time. There is nothing unique in his loss, even as much as it hurts. He comes to be able to sincerely say “Why not me?”

As time goes on, he grows into acceptance that he wasn’t picked out of the crowd by the hand of a capricious God Who delights in inflicting pain. He realizes that death is part of living.

The result is that he is able to identify and empathize with others going through similar challenges. He’s able to touch lives that otherwise he never could have – it’s a matter of “been there, done that.” He realizes that things happen not only for his growth and maturity, but so that he can minister in God’s name to others.

The result? He realizes that he’s supernaturally blessed. Now he can say, “Why me?” He realizes that triumph has grown from tragedy, and he has a cause greater than himself. He can’t believe how fortunate he is to serve.

This is an idealized scenario, perhaps. “I could never be so accepting of my loss,” you say.

I don’t have an answer for you. You know yourself and your heart.

My point is simply we do have so, so much to be grateful for.

Why me, indeed:

• I woke up this morning in a warm bed.
• Breakfast was simple and good.
• My car started.
• Lunch was good, too.
• I have a job.

I could go on, and belabor the obvious, but we can all rightfully say “Why me? Why do I have so much and why am I so blessed? Why is there always hope? Why was I given another day here?”

It’s because you ain’t done here yet.

O be joyful.

Typically I blog on Mondays and Thursdays. This week, however, I’m taking some time off. It’s Thanksgiving, y’all, and we have plans! So I’ll see you again next Monday. Be blessed! ~Tony~