What I’m learning about. . . ambiguity.

I don’t remember the words he used, just the point. “He” was the new president at an international mission organization I had loved and worked at for nearly 12 years. I was the first to be laid off. I can’t tell you why the new president chose me to go first, but I know God allowed it. Obviously this was not a situation I welcomed, but when it was forced on me it was accompanied by a wash of peace and a splash of hope.

The realization that being laid off was God’s plan did provide peace, but then there was the question, “His plan for what?” I know it allowed me to escape from the painful collapse of the mission organization. I know I have been available to help family members in ways I would never had been able to before. He obliged me to evaluate what I was spending my coins on and to cut my costs, which allows me to live on lots less. All this I learned because of hindsight providing a clear perception. I can look backwards and see His hand directing my steps. But the question persists, “His plan for what? What’s next?”

Jeremiah 29:11 in The Message version says, “I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out - plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.” Linking the words I know to future seems like an oxymoron until I consider who is saying they “know.” The Lord has stated unequivocally that He alone knows. Not only does He know, but He has plans. Not for just an ordinary what-to-do-today agenda, but He has a long-term goal to flourish, thrive, and mature me.
Encouraging, but again, “What’s next?”

I have heard this kind of period in people’s lives described as the waiting room or the desert. I don’t care for those labels. I have decided to call it my University of Ambiguity. To be in a waiting room conjures up visions of a doctor’s office with old magazines, sick people, and unpleasant tests coming. I’ve been told there is beauty to be found in a desert, but I haven’t discovered it. The desert is a place at a loss for water, dusty, hot, and desolate for long stretches. University of Ambiguity communicates a time of learning and growth.

During this time I have realized that what caused a change in my perception is attitude. When I start to fret and agonize about not knowing what’s next, the desert winds kick up and I long for the simplicity of ambiguity. With ambiguity I have found a friend, a comfort, an ability to focus on the moment, to live right now without having to know all the answers. I have had to learn to live without certainty, but I have confidence in the One who knows everything.

I went on a wonderful series of interviews for a particular job. It was wonderful because I was relaxed and living totally in the moment. Neither of these was normal for me. For once I didn’t need to know all the answers. I could talk about the gift God gave me of being laid-off and mean it. I could say to them that my focus is to be right here right now, and it was. We had great conversations about life and things unrelated to the open position. It was a delight. It was through this experience that it dawned on me I was living happily in ambiguity, my ambiguity. I didn’t get the job, but was that why I was involved in those interviews? I don’t think so. The Human Resource Director told me their decision had been difficult because everyone enjoyed their time with me so much. In my University of Ambiguity days I have learned that many times the reason we believe something happens has nothing to do with the reality behind the event. Ambiguity teaches me to squeeze the life out of every second while grabbing hold of God. It all makes sense to Him. He has “my” plan under control.

James 5:11 tells me, “What a gift life is to those who stay the course! You've heard, of course, of Job's staying power, and you know how God brought it all together for him at the end. That's because God cares, He cares right down to the last detail.”

Be Encouraged-Don't Give Up!

By way of encouragement to all here are a few excerpts from “30 famous authors whose works were rejected by publishers” by Michelle Kerns. I hope their experiences will keep you keeping on the path. Don't give up!
1. Stephen King received dozens of rejections for his first novel, Carrie; he kept them tidily nailed to a spike under a timber in his bedroom. One of the publishers sent Mr. King’s rejection with these words: We are not interested in science fiction which deals with negative utopias. They do not sell.
2. William Golding’s Lord of the Flies was rejected by 20 publishers. One denounced the future classic with these words (which should be inscribed on the hapless publisher’s tomb): an absurd and uninteresting fantasy which was rubbish and dull.
3. John le Carré submitted his first novel, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, one of the publishers sent it along to a colleague, with this message:You’re welcome to le Carré – he hasn’t got any future.
4. Anne Frank -According to one publisher, The Diary of Anne Frank was scarcely worth reading: The girl doesn’t, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the ‘curiosity’ level. 15 publishers (other than this dope) also rejected The Diary of Anne Frank.
5. Joseph Heller - In an act of almost unparalled stupidity, one publisher wrote of Mr. Heller’s Catch-22: I haven’t the foggiest idea about what the man is trying to say…Apparently the author intends it to be funny – possibly even satire – but it is really not funny on any intellectual level.
6. J.K. Rowling - Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s (later Sorceror’s) Stone was rejected by a dozen publishers, including biggies like Penguin and HarperCollins. Bloomsbury, a small London publisher, only took it on at the behest of the CEO’s eight-year old daughter, who begged her father to print the book. God bless you, sweetheart.
7. George Orwell - One publisher rejected Mr. Orwell’s submission, Animal Farm, with these words: It is impossible to sell animal stories in the USA.
9. Tony Hillerman, now famous for his Navajo Tribal Police mystery novels, was initially told by publishers to Get rid of all that Indian stuff.
10. John Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill, was rejected by a dozen publishers and 16 agents before breaking into print and launching Mr. Grisham’s best-selling career.

Are You Winning Your Race?

His left foot was fractured, but he ran anyway. He had to run. It was the last race in the last Olympics in which he would ever compete. Dave Johnson ran.

The stress fracture had happened a few months before the Barcelona, Spain Olympics in 1992. The hope was that if he stayed off it and didn’t practice it would get better and he would be able to compete. But the stress fracture became unbearable after the first day of the two-day Decathlon in Spain.

Dave had to complete the last of ten events, the 1500 meters, to medal. He put on a shoe two sizes larger, laced it up tight, and went to the starting line to run four laps. Dave told me that in the Decathlon, the competition comes down to the last lap on the last turn on the back side of the track in the last event. To further complicate matters, all your strength is gone after two days of all-out exertion.

Dave ran, forcing himself to put one step in front of the other, until he finished the race and won the bronze medal. He was the first American to medal in the Decathlon since Bruce Jenner had won a gold metal ten years earlier.
"If you doubt you can accomplish something, then you can't accomplish it. You have to have confidence in your ability, and then be tough enough to follow through." Rosalyn Smith Carter.
I had the privilege of knowing Dave Johnson during this period in his life. At that time, I lived in Southern California and worked at the church where Dave and his wife, Sherry, attended. The church's youth director was one of his training partners and my roommate dated another of Dave’s training partners. Terry, who was the track coach at Azusa Pacific University, where Dave attended and trained, also attended the church and was one of the elders.

Not long after I started working at the church I attended an after-church luncheon at Terry’s home. It was a beautiful Southern California day, so most of us were outside. I was sitting at a table with Terry, with my back to the some of the other tables. Terry began talking to someone at another table about a recent appearance on a talk show and some comments made by a sports announcer. That caught my attention.

After lunch, everyone just sat around and talked. I ended up sitting next to a very nice lady, just spending time getting to know her. During the course of our conversation, I noticed that she was wearing a lovely ring and she told me she had gotten it in Korea in 1988. (The Olympics had been held in Seoul, Korea in 1988). Perhaps I had been slow on the uptake, but now things began to add up. I took a closer look at this group of people and realized they were all in extremely great shape. Not just good – great! I asked my table companion, “Who are these people?”

As we talked, she began to point out different people; he is the world record holder in this event, he competed in the ’84 Olympics in Los Angeles, and he competed in ’88 in Seoul, and so on. To my surprise, I eventually learned that my friendly tablemate was none other than Sherry Johnson, the wife of Dave Johnson.

While this group of people was mostly world class athletics, they are also people just like you and me, with bills, fears, joys, friends, sorrows, etc. Dave would frequently say that anyone can train their body, but it’s the mental game where you win or lose. He had the chance to live out those words in 1992.

The lead-up to the ‘92 Barcelona Olympics was saturated with commercials from Reebok asking, “Who’s the World’s Greatest Athlete, Dan or Dave?” The Dan was Dan O’Brien, who went on to win a gold metal in the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta.

But 1992 was a different story. After all the hype stirred up by the ad campaign, Dan didn’t even make the Olympic team. During the Olympic trials he willingly passed on the lower heights in the pole vault and then failed to clear the bar in the next round after his three tries. The result was that he did not receive any points for the event and failed to qualify for the Olympics. As a consequence, Reebok refocused the ads to rally support around Dave.

Steve Young says, “The principle is competing against yourself.” In spite of the hype, Dave was competing against himself as he began his last race with the goal to the finish. That race required him to place one painful step in front of the other to finish and medal in the Olympics. Where does that type of strength come from?

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 comes to my mind as a fitting passage:
Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.

And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown.

Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air.

But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.

In Paul's day, a laurel wreath of victory was awarded to the victors in a race. In the ancient Olympic Games the “crown” was made of branches of the wild olive tree, but these were corruptible crowns. Paul continues on in the passage illustrating his own behavior, using the example of a boxer. He does not punch at the air as a boxer hitting at the shadows, but with direction and determination he keeps his eye on the true prize.

Verse 27 “is like the horses in a chariot race, which must be kept well in hand by whip and rein if the prize is to be secured" (Robertson and Plummer). Paul’s body would not be his master. He worked towards self-discipline to “bring it into bondage.” Paul was determined to withstand the test and not be disqualified.

Are you winning your race?

What Makes You Come Alive?

A fine misty fog drizzled and rolled over the ground. As morning light broke, I sat on the back patio steps anticipating the day to come. Normally the fog would have been a welcome change to the typical Southern California weather, but not this morning. I had paper flags, streamers, and tablecloths decorating the tennis court, surrounding walkways, and other event areas. At 11:30 a.m., over one hundred people, in full costume, were going to be descending on this location for a medieval party. As a group, we had emptied out every costume store in the San Gabriel Valley.

The planning committee for this event was made up of people I chose because I knew they enjoyed having fun and believed in creating the impossible. The committee (I use that term loosely) had met over a period of several months, planning and having a good time during what we loosely called meetings. This event was just something I wanted to do for fun. That was the stated goal; fun! Members of the committee went on a recognition mission to The Medieval Times, a Southern California medieval theme dinner theater attraction. We went ostensibly to do some fact-finding and to gather ideas for our event. To be truthful, if all we had was the enjoyment of the committee meetings, it would have been enough. But there was more to come and it only got better.

We arranged for two guys dressed up as jesters to be parking attendants. We set up gaming sites, refreshment booths, craft areas, and then, of course, the tennis courts turned into the banquet hall. We placed eight-foot long rectangular tables around the outside edge of the courts, divided into four sections. Each section had its own theme color. As people arrived, they checked in at the registration tent and received a color marker that matched with their dining area. This color would also indicate the jouster they would root for throughout the event.

Yes, a jouster! Our decision to have jousters brought about one of the questions we needed to conquer during our planning: how do we do a joust that utilizes a horse on a tennis court? In the end, I found stick ponies colorfully painted in different colors. I’m sure you rode one of these when you were little, but the question for us was, would grown men ride them? Surprisingly, the answer was yes!

Another question that came up was whether the men would wear tights to this event. Believe it or not, they did! We had knights, jesters, monks, jugglers, peasants, minstrels and all sorts of people dressed in medieval clothing. Every guest came in costume. Most of them rented their costumes, but some borrowed them from Renaissance Fairs, and a few people even sewed their own. It was utterly amazing to see how everyone got so thoroughly into the spirit of things!

One big concern for me was that in order to be true to the period, we chose not to use eating utensils. How would our guests react? To me this decision would add to the atmosphere and the authenticity of the event. But it brought additional problems with it, such as what we would feed the people and how? We finally decided to assign men to dig a big pit and we cooked Cornish game hens with red potatoes and a few vegetables in oven bags wrapped in foil, right there in the ground. We even had suitably attired “wenches” serving the food.

One of the event's highlights was a best costume contest, with the winners being crowned king and queen of the event. For entertainment we had the jousting team, which was made up of four men. Our jousters included three very fit and handsome college-age men and one, let’s just say, much older man. I had met with the men before the joust and it had been decided that the older gentleman would win the event. Yes, it was rigged, but what great fun! The whole event was wonderfully enjoyable! Our goal had been met.

Why this story? Because I believe it is incredible what people can do, what joy can be had and how it can spread, and what astonishing things can happen if one person has a vision, believes it is possible, and then surrounds themselves with great people that get on board and catch the vision. This is just one possible example, but oh, what a pleasure it was! I look back and I still find it unbelievable to realize what we accomplished. Men in tights! I mean men of all ages, even manly men . . . in tights! Everyone got into the spirit of it, bought into it, and lived and enjoyed that day of fun.

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive. Howard Washington Thurman