There’s something that Brian, our pastor, says about the word “believe” and the way we use it now versus the way Bible writers used it. I’m going from memory here, but the idea is that when we say we believe something, we mean it kind of as an acceptance of a fact; after thoughtful consideration (in some cases!) we decide we agree with a premise.

In contrast, in Bible times, the connotation was a little bit different. To believe something was more of an action, or an understanding from which action couldn’t be separated. You couldn’t “believe” something without being physically changed. Really, this perspective makes a whole lot more sense. If you don’t live differently as a result of a belief, then it’s questionable whether you really believe it. Brian’s standard example here is fire: if you believe that the building you are in is on fire, you’re going to do something (whether it’s escaping, or helping others, or whatever). You’re not going to just sit there “believing.”

This brings up a lot of my questionable “beliefs,” particularly the things I say I believe in my head but my heart isn’t convinced. In the ancient context, there’s no way those could be considered beliefs; I think a more appropriate word would be “doubts” (and that’s really pretty depressing).

One of the most concerning things I “believe” but don’t act on is the Bible’s clear indication of what will happen in eternity. I “agree with the premise” of heaven and hell, but I’m doing next to nothing to encourage people in the right direction.

I guess the big question is, “If I really believed that there is someone actively trying to lull people into an eternity devoid of all joy, happiness, comfort, and meaning, wouldn’t I try to prevent that?” Because if I had someone right in front of me who was suffering from some physical trauma that I could help with, I would, no question. Or if I could prevent someone from being injured in the first place by quick action, I’d do that, too. So why do I take the much more serious, much more important threat so much more lightly?

I’ve read that somewhere around 27,000 children die every day, mostly from preventable causes. If I really believed that their (and their parents’ and neighbors’ and friends’) eternal fate was hanging in the balance, wouldn’t I do something to give them a better chance to experience God in this life? If I believed Jesus’ exhortation to care for the orphans and the widows, how is that I could sit here in my nice American house and ponder the meaning of words?

So by now it’s clear that I don’t believe in as many things as I’d like to think I do. The question I really need an answer to is, “How do I ‘keep the vision of eternity continually in [my] mind and the value of it in [my] heart’?” How do I believe?

On a larger scale, it’s a bit more complex. The book mentions guilt, resentment and anger, fear, materialism, and the need for approval as things that drive many people. I don’t really do guilt or resentment and anger much, and fear comes in only when I’ve over-committed myself.

Materialism? That one gives me pause. On the one hand, I’m definitely devoting most of my time right now to making money, but I don’t feel like it’s the promised “stuff” that’s driving me. What I really want out of it is freedom to spend my time however I want, and as far as I can tell, you either have to have good savings or good passive income to do that. Yes, I do want that touring bike, but that’s so I can spend my time touring rather than working (though maybe I should satisfy myself with my road bike to be able to afford the time off…). I don’t feel like I’m looking for “money as security,” just “money as time freedom.”

Approval strikes a chord, though. I really hate saying no to people I can actually help, particularly in my work. I want people to like me, to think I’m cool or helpful or kind. This is probably a major factor in my tendency to over-schedule, which of course results in providing worse service and then feeling pressure to work too much to keep people happy. Arg.

All of this stuff about “drivers” comes back to the idea of purpose being in control. “Knowing your purpose simplifies your life. It defines what you do and what you don’t do,” says the author. Well, I can see how that’s true, but I come back to my ever-present tension between inspirational ideas and the pragmatic reality of my day-to-day work decisions. If I understand what God has in mind for me, how do I decide which clients to take? Which projects to work on today and which ones to schedule out a bit? Or maybe I should be doing something entirely different with my skills and interests? It just all seems so theoretical.

And here’s a quote that’s almost painful to my dabbling, flitting self:

If you want your life to have impact, focus it! Stop dabbling. Stop trying to do it all. Do less. Prune away even good activities and do only that which matters most.

I agree. In theory. But that just makes me want to wrap my arms around my knees and start rocking and humming.

Actually, most of the time I’m delighted to be alive right now, because I’m so excited about all the amazing things that the Internet is facilitating. I’ve been on the web since its early days of public availability, and it’s sort of a backdrop for a lot of my life. I love that. And now that I think about that, it seems highly likely that God had my current career in mind for me; is it possible that in another time I would have found fulfilling work that has nothing to do with a non-existent or evolved-beyond Internet? I’m sure that it is, but the fact is that God put me right here, in middle class America at the turn of the millennium for specific reasons, so maybe my line of work is inherently more meaningful than I give it credit for.

Of course, the flip side of that premise is a little harder to face: that God specifically chose some people to live in miserable places, like drought-plagued areas of Africa. Though come to think of it, those areas wouldn’t be nearly so miserable if humans would reject selfishness. I read recently that there’s a very large underground lake in the Darfur region of Sudan, where there have been such brutal actions taken, essentially over resources. There’s a tremendous resource right under them in this drought-prone region, but they’ve been too busy terrorizing their neighbors to develop it. (And that’s not to say that we in the first world nations have done nearly enough, either; it’s just an example of how human selfishness keeps people impoverished and exploited.)

I was reading an article in Good last night that talked about Buckminster Fuller’s vision for humanity:

He believed we could use human ingenuity and existing resources to solve global problems, as long as we committed “egocide.” “Selfishness”, he declared, “is unnecessary and … unrationalizable. … War is obsolete.”

Fuller was one of the first thinkers to publicly identify the global crisis of unbalanced resources that remains today. He set out to put that imbalance right by inventing models for efficiency based on nature. His motto was: “Do more with less.” He firmly believed that technological advances, if applied correctly, could allocate and manage the world’s resources in such a way that every member of the human race could live the luxurious life of a billionaire. “Technologically,” Fuller wrote in 1981, “we now have four billion billionaires onboard Spaceship Earth who are entirely unaware of their good fortune.”

I think that’s absolutely true, except that we haven’t grasped that selfishness is unnecessary and unrationalizable. We rationalize it every day. But if God has given us everything we need to live without fear (of scarcity and violence), then I guess the blame for miserable lives lays squarely with us, doesn’t it?

I have a hard time with this somehow. It seems like purpose and my personal goals should be the same. Well, I guess they can be, but only if you go from purpose to goals, instead of from goals to purpose. One of the other major points is that, not having created ourselves, we can’t claim to determine our own purpose (the analogy given is an invention trying to decide what it was invented for). So to try to determine our purpose based on our preferences is backwards. I guess that makes sense.

So what does that mean for today? How am I supposed to go to work now and live like I believe it? The easy answer is to “make my goals God’s goals” but how do I do that? Today I have three client projects that need my time. I have several internal projects that also require my time. What does God want me to do differently? Does living for God’s purpose mean just doing work for charities and churches? Another pat answer that comes to mind is something along the lines of “do the work you have to do with integrity and as if for God.” I think that’s biblical but it seems so trite…

A life devoted to things is a dead life, a stump;
a God-shaped life is a flourishing tree.

Proverbs 11:28 (The Message)

We’re doing the 40 Days of Purpose (going through The Purpose Driven Life in groups and in the sermons) again at The Experience.

Even though I’ve been through it twice already, I’m looking forward to it. It’s always a different experience because 1) I’m an ever-changing person and 2) I’ll be going through it with a different group of people.

The timing is also good. Lately I’ve been struggling with the question of how to put my whole life together. On the one hand, I have my work life, which consumes most of my waking hours. I like my work pretty well, but my constant goal in that part of my life is to make enough money (both by saving it and by creating passive income) to not have to work. I have that goal in common with many folks, I think, and it’s generally considered reasonable.

But on the other hand, I go to sites like Kiva and hear how such a small amount of money is changing lives so drastically, and then I want to throw myself into doing “things that really matter.” I have a hard time reconciling the pursuit of money for my own comfort with the state of the world and the Great Commission.

The optimistically pragmatic among you are probably thinking, “Well, easy. Take the money you make with your business and put it into Kiva or other things that matter.” If I was a less-disjointed person, I’d do just that. But I want my money for that new touring bike I’ve been eying, or to afford more cycling vacations, or just to have Daniel around more. There might be some “mattering” side effects (like doing more work on the church website or contributing to open source software if we didn’t have “jobs”), but really, I’m in it for my own personal comfort.

Something has to shift. I think God’s going to have to help me shuffle my priorities or I’m going to go nuts. (Only I hope He’ll wait until after I get the touring bike… and sadly, I’m only half-joking about that…) Maybe He’ll show me how to use my resources better, and give me the desire. I’m really hoping I don’t have to learn by losing everything, though if I continue to be selfish, that may be what it comes to! Definitely prefer to avoid that.

So maybe this 40 Days of Purpose will give me both tools and inspiration to get my priorities straightened out. That’s what I’m hoping for.

As far as blogging it, I’ve learned my lesson… I’m not going to promise to blog every day, but I will blog whenever it makes sense and I have time.

Because I am a nerd and like frameworks, I decided to go role-by-role and state (in the present tense) something I have, something I am, and something I do for each of them (this is particularly nerdy because this is a takeoff on security as articulated in Sneakers).

And do note that they’re in the present tense even though that’s not accurate to my life at this point, because “the unconscious mind chooses a path of least resistance.” So if you read something in this list that makes you go, “Oh, brother. Sarah is nothing like that!”, take it with a grain of salt, know it’s what I’m aiming for, and tactfully tell me how I could get closer.

My personal mission statement

I am a…

Child of God. I have the attention and love of the Creator of the univers. I am confident and compassionate in His love. I draw others toward Him.

Devoted wife. I have a committed, God-given husband. I am secure and interdependent in my marriage. I serve my husband joyfully and show him my love in daily acts of kindness.

Thoughful friend. I have been blessed by God with meaningful friendships. I am vulerable and available in these relationships. I treasure my friends and show them regularly that I care through small acts and sincere words.

Diligent worker. I have been given many talents by God that can be used to help others. I am responsible and big-picture oriented. I respect my clients’ time, resources, and viewpoints.

Student. I have God-given curiosity and a desire to understand His world. I am inquisitive and open to new ideas. I share what I learn in order to help others.

The premise of the book is that sometimes evangelism is not about having a polished testimony, or knowing all the texts meant to convert people, but rather, it’s just the willingness to notice another person and reach out to him.

This concept certainly isn’t a new one, but I like its presentation in this book. The author illustrates this idea clearly through a bunch of personal stories. He also tackles the deeper question of “why isn’t this our first instinct, anyway?”

One of the questions at the end of chapter one tackles this a bit. It is actually a set of true-or-false statements:

• I believe that every person I know would be better off living God’s way.
• I live my life in such a way that others around me know I believe this.
• I want to become more of a walk-across-the-room man or woman who jumps all over evangelistic opportunities God lays in my path.
• I’m willing to let go of other passions so that God’s people can take top priority.

I don’t know about you, but for me, some of those questions are hard-hitting. For the record, my answers:

How do you answer these questions?

Lately I’ve been reading mostly non-fiction. However, if you look at the sidebar section entitled “I Just Finished”, you’ll see that I’m not actually finishing non-fiction (I’ll note for future reference that at the time of this writing, my three most recently finished books are all fiction). This is because I’m a perfectionist.

When I’m reading a book and it tells me to do something, I want to do it (believe it or not, this stems back to enduring regret about not doing an exercise assigned at a conference many years ago). I’m the annoying person who actually fills in the workbook and feels compelled to finish the assigned reading when everyone else decides to wing it. Despite the fact that this sounds like a good trait (and may be, long term), it’s decidedly unproductive in the short term. This is because I’m a procrastinator.

I fully intend to do the assignments given to me in my work and recreational non-fiction reading. However, I put them off because there’s no set deadline. And I won’t go on in the book until I’ve done my duty, either (because I’m realistic enough to know the likelihood I’ll go back to the assignment). This results in me approaching meals and other prime reading opportunities with a tragic loss of reading material (I’m not really a “mindful eater” yet; maybe that’s the next step in my evolutionary process). So what choice do I have but to “just glance at” another book until I have a chance to finish the assignment?

Which is how I got to the point where I’m at right now: stalled at the end of chapter two of “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People“, because I’m supposed to be writing a mission statement; starting chapter nine of “The Search for Significance“, because I’m keeping in time with the group; and at the end of chapter one of “Just Walk Across the Room“, because I “glanced” at it instead of doing my mission statement.

And guess what? “Just Walk Across the Room” has questions at the end of each chapter! And they’re not just stupid questions that I can dismiss; no, they’re good questions, questions that require mulling and probably bloggingb efore I can move on. Yes, it’s a tortured life being a perfectionist procrastinator!

(In other news, I’ve just ordered “Do It Tomorrow and Other Secrets of Time Management“, “The Type-Z Guide to Success: A Lazy Person’s Manifesto to Wealth and Fulfillment“, and “Projects in Less Time“…)

I have picked up a lot of interesting things from the book, though, and it’s changing the way I look at the world around me. The book’s “big idea” for Christians is this:

I am deeply loved, completely forgiven, fully pleasing, totally accepted by God, and complete in Christ.

I always have a hard time internalizing things like this, but I have seen glimpses of these truths, and it’s amazing.

I’m also struck by how many people believe the lie (my self-worth = my performance + other’s opinions). I guess I shouldn’t be, since I believe it a lot of the time, but I was hit by it again this morning while reading people’s answers to a prompt in one of my dieting groups. The prompt was “I am proud of myself today because…” and almost every response was totally performance-driven. Either they were happy because of something they did, or unhappy because they didn’t do something. None of the answers were “be” or “are” answers; they were all “do”.

On a different but related note, I really like this quote from Karen Hancock’s blog:

Great messages lately in Bible class, particularly the one about how “God is able to make all grace ABOUND to you, that ALWAYS having ALL sufficiency in EVERYTHING you may have an ABUNDANCE for EVERY good deed.” ~ 2 Co 9:8

Just a reminder that I have everything I need — the talent, the wit, the time, the energy — to complete this task in accordance with His will. I am keeping myself focused on that, and not the scary speculations that want to raise their very ugly heads from time to time.

Many of us are hurt emotionally, relationally, and spiritually, but because we are unaware of the extent of our wounds, we don’t take steps toward healing and health. Our problem is not stupidity but a lack of objectivity.

The author suggests that there are a variety of reasons for this lack, ranging from thinking our situation is “normal,” to trying to be in control, to protecting others (like our parents). But regardless of the reasons, we tend to “develop elaborate defense mechanisms to block pain and gain significance.

Several of the examples hit home for me: compulsive perfectionism (well, when I bother); driving myself to succeed; helping people to feel appreciated; trying to say “the right thing” to be accepted.

Too bad this chapter is mostly just casting light on the problem, rather than telling me (in just five easy steps!) how to fix myself (though obviously that very suggestion shows how much is wrong with me). However, I found this encouraging:

Experiencing His love does not mean that all of our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors will be pleasant and pure. It means that we can be real, feeling pain and joy, love and anger, confidence and confusion.

Well, I guess that might not sound encouraging, but I like the idea of being authentic even in the worst parts of life. And speaking of the worst parts…

…Paul instructs us to put on the armor of God so that we can be equipped for spiritual battle. However, it often seems that unsuspecting believers are the last to know this battle is occuring, and they don’t know that Christ has ultimately won the war. They are suprised and confused by difficulties, thinking that the Christian life is a playground, not a battlefield.

That’s a point that I agree most of us miss. There’s a lot of confusion about what the point of being a Christian is. I think I’ve ranted before about the perception that being a Christian is about being a good person. To actually follow Christ is a harder task (well, at least when compared to looking like a good person), but I have this idea that it’s deeply tied in with our self-perceptions, too.

I’m looking forward to the “practical” parts of the book.