MY BLOG POSTS

Go to any bookstore – online or in person – and you will find rows and rows…and rows and rows… of shelves housing books devoted to “self-esteem.” Most seem to focus on loving yourself, forgiving yourself, being good to yourself. Because we just don’t think enough of ourselves.

Riiiight.

Here’s what I think: our problems with self-esteem aren’t that we don’t think enough of ourselves. Our problem is that we think of ourselves WAY too much.

At least I do, anyway. I don’t think a day goes by when I don’t think about myself, my needs, my wants. When I don’t feel frustrated that I am not being treated well enough. I look at people and wonder what they are thinking about me – do they like me? Are they talking about me to their friends? Are those conversations positive or negative? They better not be saying bad things because, believe me, I know some stuff about them…Yeah, um, you get the idea.

But plenty of days go by when I don’t think about others: the needs of others, the wants of others, whether or not I am treating others well enough. I am an expert on being self-centered. In fact, I could write a book about that! But being others-centered? I need some help there.

Good News!

I have help there: it’s called the Bible, and it is SO much better than any self-help book on any real or virtual bookstore on the planet. The Bible has a whole lot to say about how we should think about ourselves. The verse I need to be reminded of most often is this one:

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,

not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” ~Phil. 2:3-4

The English teacher in me has to point out that those verses are imperatives – the “bossy” sentence. That’s Paul (lovingly) sticking his finger in our faces and saying, YOU – that’s right YOU – stop being so selfish! Worry more about others than you worry about yourself. The rest of the chapter (which I highly recommend reading) goes on to demonstrate how Jesus lived out this principle. He set the example for a selfless life, and we will experience great joy if we follow that example.

So if I really want to make ME happy, I should think about ME less.

Because my self has enough help.

Predictability has gotten a bad rap, lately. I read a lot of book and movie reviews and the most consistent negative comment is “It’s so predictable.” And reviewers get so angry about that. A predictable movie makes people crazy. A predictable book? A huge waste of time.

Let me go a little “Full House” on you and ask (cue music) “What ever happened to predictability?” (Come on, you know the rest…”The milkman, the paperboy and evening TV…”)

And let me throw something crazy out there: Predictability is NOT necessarily a bad thing. In fact, (cue “teacher mode”), in ancient Greece, the winners of “Best Play” were not the ones with the most original script. Not by a long shot. The winners were the ones who told the best story. Same with Shakespeare. He didn’t invent the story of Romeo & Juliet. Or Hamlet. Or most of the others. He just told them better than anyone else. In fact, Romeo and Juliet gives the ending away at the beginning. Predictable? Sure! One of the greatest works of literature ever? Um, mostly yes, though dying for a love that you’ve had for less than a week isn’t all that romantic to me, personally, but whatever…

A great story isn’t defined by whether or not you can guess the ending. Stories aren’t math problems. The joy is sucked out of reading or watching a film if all you’re looking for is the “who did it?” or “Which boy does she pick?”

The joy of reading or watching (or listening to) a good story is the telling of it. How is the plot developed? What are the characters like? Do we love them? Root for them? Are we transported to a different time or place? I love when I’m in a movie theater and the lights go up and I suddenly remember I am in a movie theater. I was so engrossed in the world of the movie that I totally lost track of reality. A good book will do the same thing.

Let a good story take you away. I *predict* you’ll be glad you did (cue groan). 🙂

I recently finished my second reading of John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. I can’t say that I enjoyed the book. Those of you who have read it understand. It isn’t enjoyable. But it is good. Ultimately, though, for me, the author’s hamartia is far more fatal than the characters’ disease.

The story itself is a tragedy, but the heroes’ tragic flaw is not fatal pride, like Oedipus; fatal passion, like Romeo; or fatal optimism, like Gatsby. Their flaw is in themselves – literally – the cancer that kills them IS them. Unlike the classic tragic heroes, Hazel and Augustus are fully aware of their tragic flaws. They are not in denial, not surprised by death. They know their days are numbered, that their “infinity” is shorter than others’. It is heartbreaking to become attached to characters who are dying. I like happily-ever-after. That’s not in there. Green doesn’t sugarcoat the fact that death is ugly and mean and can destroy the living as well as the dying.

Augustus loves metaphors, and the novel is full of them. The ones that stick out to me most, naturally, are those that reference faith. Support meetings take place in the “heart of Jesus” – the basement of a church. But those meetings are meaningless, full of empty repetition and one upmanship. They are led by a fool who can only offer mantras and the same story over and over again. That man is a modern-day eunuch who has lost his manhood and has nothing lasting to offer to anyone. Nothing of value happens in the church, only talk of death and death itself. To Augustus, there is more life and hope in video games than there ever could be in “the heart of Jesus.”

“Why are we here” is the unspoken question each character asks, a question that is discussed, but never answered satisfactorily. The fictional book Hazel loves so much is, I believe, a metaphor for the pursuit of purpose. She is desperate to know how An Imperial Affliction ends, what happens to the characters after the narrator dies. She travels across the globe to find those answers only to discover, in a wizard-behind-the-curtain moment, that the author is a fool. She rejects him then, and she even rejects him when he pursues her. He is not worth knowing.

The only divinity hinted at in this novel is the divine Universe, a Universe that deserves to be recognized and appreciated while you can recognize and appreciate it. The Universe is powerless to stop evil or sickness or death, but it will live on. Man will eventually die out, the sun will eventually burn out, but life creates life, so the Universe will remain. The best we can do is to appreciate being part of it for however much time we have. Because we will all eventually be forgotten, whether we are Shakespeare or the person about whom he wrote Sonnet 55.

As a Christian, I read this book, and my heart breaks for the author and for the millions of people who think like him. To them, faith in God is an impotent belief system, good only to create sayings to be hung on walls and cross-stitched on pillows. Living in heaven is as fanciful an idea as living on a cloud. Intelligent people must reject that notion, they must stop trying to seek immortality and just embrace our own flawed mortality.

The ultimate irony is that the God who created John Green gave him that incredible mind – the mind that has the ability to write beautiful stories. The God Green rejects gave him the free will to reject him. The God who Green sees as, at best, helpless, and, at worst, abusive, created the Universe that we should enjoy.

As I finished this book, I prayed for John Green, that he comes to know the true God, that he sees Jesus isn’t Patrick the Support Group Leader or Van Houten the Author, or just an idea constructed to help people deal with the painful circumstances of life. He is so much more than that. Life is so much more than just these mortal bodies enjoying this immense universe. I prayed he would see that love DOES make life worth living, but true love, true purpose, cannot be found in another human, but in Christ Jesus. The fault, John Green, is not in our stars, it is in our hearts. And what we are all looking for is not Alaska, but the Savior.

Our lives are a story. And just like any good story, we have conflicts, obstacles, dynamic characters, plot twists, themes, protagonists and antagonists, even foreshadowing. And like the great stories, we have no idea how our stories are going to end.

But I like knowing the end! When I read a book or watch a movie, I constantly try to guess the ending. And I’m pretty good at that, I must say. I knew Anna wouldn’t marry Hans from the time I heard Kristoff singing to his reindeer.

So when it comes to MY story, I do the same thing. I see the elements of the story, the character development, the direction the plot is going, and I try to guess the end.

There’s just one problem with that…

IT’S NOT MY STORY!!

But I want to be the one about whom the story revolves. And, in this world, it’s easy to get caught up believing I am. We get messages all the time that tell us just that.

It’s one thing to acknowledge that God is the Author of our story. It’s another thing entirely to acknowledge that we are characters in HIS story.

But this story that we’re in is God’s story. He has been writing it for all of eternity. He has purposes for us in His story that will bring us fulfillment far beyond what we could experience if we live believing WE are the central character.

But, because He is the greatest storyteller ever, we won’t know the end. We’ll never be able to guess it. That’s what living by faith is…trusting the Author and surrendering to His plot twists, allowing Him to develop our characters, being used to help develop the characters of others.

God is the greatest Author ever. To be part of the story He is writing is an astounding privilege, a grace undeserved, free, and amazing. To surrender to His purposes brings joy and peace. We were made to tell His story. And, though we don’t know the earthly endings, we do know the ultimate finale: a Happily Ever After that puts every other story to shame.