A Letter To Myself

Do you get consumed by the stuff around you?

I do.

I know better, but knowing doesn’t seem to matter. Natural disasters, mass shootings, political divisions–I can’t seem to turn away or turn them off. Too often I allow external clatter to become a defeating internal narrative.

I just haven’t figured out how to be “in the world but not of the world.”

I’ve been beating myself up over this lately. Honestly, I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself, sort of like I lost my sense of purpose. Maybe I’m getting too old. Maybe I don’t have anything more to contribute.

Silly, perhaps, but I suspect I might not be alone in this struggle.

Last week I ran across a three-year-old post. As I read my own words, I laughed. Seemed like I’d written a letter to my future self about the most important lesson I’ve learned from riding a bike.

When I first I considered our 1500-mile ride along the Mississippi River, I thought it was about Rich riding a bike. Dick Foth helped me understand the ultimate emptiness of a self-centered pursuit and the fulfillment that comes from writing a story bigger than myself.

It’s easy to take the next small step, to make the story about sharing a tale of hope or raising funds for victims of injustice. Good stuff, for sure, but still not the big story.

The real purpose, the BIG story, is that we do what we do to bring glory to God and point others to Jesus.

When I get cynical, when I start feeling sorry for myself because the world’s not behaving, I need to remember I’m not in charge.

“You will certainly carry out God’s purpose, however you act, but it makes a difference to you whether you serve like Judas or like John.” C.S. Lewis

I do my best and trust God for the outcome. I believe He can handle it.

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Next time: some practical steps.