I recently began reading President Jimmy Carter’s Faith: A Journey for All. Though I’m not very far into it yet (I’ve only finished the introduction and the first chapter), there’s been a great deal of one thought going through my mind as a response to how he presents these snapshots of his life. Why can’t anything be that simple today?
The thought comes despite Carter being among the first presidents to have the pressures of preventing nuclear war rest on his shoulders. So maybe it wasn’t so simple after all.
What I mean by simple though is this rare-yet-normal ability to just be present. Carter says of his upbringing:
It was a simple, family-centered, deeply religious, working existence, with interracial labor and play on the farm with my black neighbors. All the framework was done by humans or mules, and we grew corn as the common fuel for both.
…
I knew the Great Depression years to be a time of hope, when the economic situation in America was so bad that everyone believed it could only improve; when things became plentiful, we tended to want not only what we already had but also what everyone else had.
Faith: A journey for all, Jimmy Carter (p.13 & 16)
It’s an existence where we don’t constantly long for more and instead choose to find the blessing in what we presently have– to invest what we have now in the things that matter now, not just what will matter some number of years from now.
I admit that I’m quite guilty of not living this way. I wish it were as easy as it sounds to take the one talent and invest it not because I think the One I’m keeping it for might give me something, but simply because I want to do well by Him. Searching for a full time job has made this especially hard as of recently because bills do need to get paid somehow. I worry that I might not be able to in a few months time with my several part-times and the meager checks I’m able to earn of them. I worry that I may not be liked enough at one that I would be the first one to cut if they need to cut someone. I struggle to find joy in doing the work the Lord has presently called me to at another. I worry that I will not find another to replace the one that was only meant for a season anyway. I’m planning things out and excited for another, but it still does not begin for another few months. I’m up to my eyeballs in anxiety over these things; of course, while acknowledging these issues remains imperative moving forward, when these are the center of my attention I have no reason to wonder why the Lord has taken my peace. He has not taken His perfect peace or His presence from me, it’s I robbing myself of these things and throwing them away. How could I blame Him for my own wandering gaze? How could I blame Him for my own lack of faith?
And it’s because of this revelation about myself as of late that I begin to think of the log in my eye. I feel as though, over the process of the past few weeks of writing these blogs, I haven’t truly given full disclosure that these were not mere revelations to me– they were revelations about me. And maybe I have mentioned it, but I feel as if I didn’t quite make it clear enough that even as the author of these commentaries on the Lord’s revelation of wisdom to me, I do not stand on some moral or spiritual high-ground. Even as the author of these short excerpts of my somewhat scattered brain, I am not the Author. I would never claim to be.
I don’t think I could ever handle that much pressure. Full disclosure, I often feel as though I can barely handle the pressure of authoring my own work (or rather, the work He has trusted me to author well, going along with Madeline L’Engle’s reflections on art). Knowing how angry, hurt, and full of angst my work used to be… how little care, practice, or thought there was to it… the lack of intentional sitting and legitimately dealing with the darkest, most regrettable parts of my life… I look back at those pieces and pity them for the emotional upchuck they are.
And that’s why I often sit and simply be by being active in my being. I rest by meditatively working. I don’t sit idle. I don’t ride bikes, but the image came into my mind: is one able to easily balance on a bike that is not moving without engaging some sort of muscle? Whether that means peddling the bike and getting it moving, putting one’s feet on the ground, or having some insanely good core strength and balance, the bike and its rider only stay up when muscles are engaged. Only then do we somehow get to the top of the hill, then able to coast down for a bit before the next one.
A few weeks ago, (maybe about when I started posting here more regularly again), I’d started reading through Zechariah. I admit, I have not been as consistent with it as I’d like, but the Lord has still used that to highlight the right things about this book for me at the right times. Among those was the verse now in my Instagram bio:
For before those days there was no wage for man or any wage for beast, neither was there any safety from the foe for him who went out or came in, for I set every man against his neighbor. But now I will not deal with the remnant of this people as in the former days, declares the Lord of hosts. For there shall be a sowing of peace. The vine shall give its fruit, and the ground shall give its produce, and the heavens shall give their dew. And I will cause the remnant of this people to possess all these things. As you have been a byword of cursing among the nations, I house of Judah and house of Israel, so I will save you, and you shall be a blessing. Fear not, but let your hands be strong.
Zechariah 8:10-13, ESV
See, I don’t think that last part would have hit me quite as hard had I not looked into the historical contexts in which Zechariah lived and wrote this book from. In the days of the prophet Zechariah, Jerusalem was still in ruins. He speaks literally to the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem, but also through this book looks forward to the New Jerusalem. Zechariah was encouraging the people of Judah as they’d been freed from Babylonian captivity about fifteen years prior, and were losing hope and motivation to rebuild Jerusalem, let alone the temple that was destroyed.
Fifteen years they were waiting, trying what they thought they could, and still seeming to lose traction around every corner. No wonder they needed some encouragement– a kick in the pants, if you will.
They were waiting for a specific calling that they forgot to work with what they already had. They were looking back to the “glory days” of the temple so much, that they forgot they could presently have a hand in the glory days to come. I’ve been stuck there– am somewhat stuck there– and it’s been difficult to get back to the simplicity of the “simple, family-centered, deeply religious, working existence” that was much easier to enjoy as a kid before things started to get hard for me– whether that be how addictions tore rifts in the family, mean kids at school, or just feeling shoved off to the side most of my life.
But that being “shoved off,” I’ve learned, is an indispensable source of wisdom when you use it as an opportunity to observe. Being able to observe so deeply and often be undisturbed in doing so regardless of how crowded the space has played a heavy role in both the extortion and encouragement I’ve tried to apply to my life and pour out to others. Where there used to be nothing but social anxiety (which is still often present, might I add; it doesn’t typically just disappear), there is now an appreciation for the fear– that it reminds me I’m being given an opportunity to get to know people before getting to know people, to notice things going sideways before they actually do and (when the situation is safe enough and warrants it) being able to sometimes help keep things from going awry.
The rifts that certain addictions have caused in my family have ultimately brought me closer to my parents, and provided me with a deeper gratitude and understanding that even as it seemed my younger self was pushed to the side for the sake of my brother, I get it now that they would do it all over again for me too if I ever made the same mistakes. I get it now that they do that for me, and they always have, even through all the mistakes I have made. They continue to love him now, even when it seems impossible to do so from the outside looking in. And I know the same is true for me because, Lord knows I’ve not been the perfect daughter either.
The bullies when I was younger eventually taught me the importance of guarding your heart (think Proverbs 4:23). It was a long and personally grueling process; various mental health struggles arose, and I didn’t trust other people enough for a while to even go to a therapist, let alone God. I still don’t go to therapy, and I still struggle to swallow my pride at times and go to God, but I do. I go to God and only then am I ever able to get through my issues, regardless of whether or not they are solved. Do I still have the occasional panic attack? Yes. Do I still sometimes have flashbacks? Also yes. Is anxiety still an overwhelming weight sometimes? Yes, yes, and yes. But God.
It’s because I used to worry so much about ‘what if someone sees me cry‘ or ‘what if someone thinks I belong in a mental hospital should certain triggers arise,’ that I was unable to be present. That’s often why people have panic attacks in the first place anyway– an unclear or non-existent grounding in present reality. And it’s because I now have a foundation in a reality greater than the reality this world could ever offer me that I can face triggers and anxiety and still be present in the moment, knowing that I am safe in and loved by our Heavenly Father, who is there for those who earnestly cry out in their trouble and protects those He loves. And all this remains true regardless of circumstance or triggers or the highs and lows of emotion.
And it’s in the simplicity of this truth that I am able to continue my work– to let my hands be strong– and not fear, even when I am afraid. It’s because of this that I do not have to fear getting my hands dirty (as they often do, I love caring for flowers and painting and just about any artistic feat that I can afford).
And this reminds me of another part of President Carter’s book, in which he recalls a dinner he had with a pastor not long after he announced his running for state senate. I sent this to a friend who similarly has been running for public office, as I figured it might be a good reminder to go back to, so I figured I should put it here. Regardless of our professions, I think we all need this witty reminder that Carter quickly gave this pastor when he asked:
“How can you, as a Christian, a deacon, and a Sunday school teacher, become involved in the dirty business of politics?” Without thinking, I gave him a smart aleck response: “I will have 75,000 people in my senate district. How would you like to have a congregation that big?”
Faith: A journey for all, Jimmy Carter (p. )
I found this to be reminiscent of Peter’s vision in Acts 10. Do not call common what [God has] called clean.
It’s because I used to worry so much about ‘what if someone sees me cry‘ or ‘what if someone thinks I belong in a mental hospital should certain triggers arise,’ that I was unable to be present. That’s often why people have panic attacks in the first place anyway– an unclear or non-existent grounding in present reality. And it’s because I now have a foundation in a reality greater than the reality this world could ever offer me that I can face triggers and anxiety and still be present in the moment, knowing that I am safe in and loved by our Heavenly Father, who is there for those who earnestly cry out in their trouble and protects those He loves. And all this remains true regardless of circumstance or triggers or the highs and lows of emotion.
And it’s in the simplicity of this truth that I am able to continue my work– to let my hands be strong– and not fear, even when I am afraid. It’s because of this that I do not have to fear getting my hands dirty (as they often do, I love caring for flowers and painting and just about any artistic feat that I can afford).
And this reminds me of another part of President Carter’s book, in which he recalls a dinner he had with a pastor not long after he announced his running for state senate. I sent this to a friend who similarly has been running for public office, as I figured it might be a good reminder to go back to, so I figured I should put it here. Regardless of our professions, I think we all need this witty reminder that Carter quickly gave this pastor when he asked:
“How can you, as a Christian, a deacon, and a Sunday school teacher, become involved in the dirty business of politics?” Without thinking, I gave him a smart aleck response: “I will have 75,000 people in my senate district. How would you like to have a congregation that big?”
Faith: A journey for all, Jimmy Carter (p. )
I found this to be reminiscent of Peter’s vision in Acts 10. Do not call common what [God has] called clean.
I wrote some about this in my first post after going to Bermuda earlier this year. Whether that means you look at your mistakes entirely with regret, guilt, and shame, or if it means you refuse to go into a career or an environment that “isn’t Christian enough” for you, do not doubt that God can and will use it all for the good of all to His glory. Getting to Bermuda was an amazing experience, as cruise ships tend to be for most who don’t have their trips ruined by seasickness, but for me it was just a lot. There was a lot going on, few quiet spots to escape to, and the constant lurking temptation of alcohol everywhere. But still, I had my parents there to hold me accountable, there were a few people I got to briefly meet and be a light to, some of the shows– however “non-Christian” they may be considered– inspired parts of my faith that needed a little reviving. On top of that, I didn’t expect a beautiful vacation destination to be so rich with church history or densely packed with churches of nearly all denominations.
So, circumstance. I feel compelled at this point to wrap up what I’m saying with a bit more of my English-nerd fascination with etymology (and by that, I mean I Googled the etymology of the word “circumstance” because I seem to be circumventing idea a lot here).
- circum– : word-forming element meaning “around, round about, all around, on all sides,” from Latin adverb and preposition circum “around, round about,” literally “in a circle”
- -sta : Proto-Indo-European root meaning “to stand, set down, make or be firm,” with derivatives meaning “place or thing that is standing.”
- root definitions quoted from www.etymonline.com
I guess what I want to ask, given this information, is two things:
- Regardless of your circumstance, where are you standing? What do you firmly believe will never change? Is that what you stand on? Why or why not?
- Are you aware of all your circumstances? Yes, circumstances in this physical realm, but are you also aware of the deeper eternal reality that this physical word is temporarily coexisting with? Which of these circumstances hold greater weight in your life? Which of these sets of circumstances drive more of your decisions, take up more brain capacity, and/or spend more of your energy each day? Why?
