31/52 one way street

The other day I read an article in Relevant magazine entitled "20 things to know before you're 30."
Number two on the list:

Say no to one-way friendships.

I have a ways to go before I hit the big 3-0, but I hope this never makes the list of life lessons I've learned. Why? Because I think it's totally inconsistent with the faith we claim to profess.

Jesus left us with the commandment "Love one another as I have loved you." How then could we dare sever the ties of one-way relationships? There was no more lop-sided love than God's love for us. He stepped down from the highest throne in heaven to dwell amongst the lowest on earth. He washed the feet of the one who would betray him with a kiss. He looked with love on the one that would deny him thrice before the end of night. He gave his life for the very ones who nailed him to a tree.

There was and is no greater love than this. Few things stir our hearts as unrequited love does, because we see in the lover the purest of loves. It exists not for the merits of or due to expectation of anything from the beloved. It exists simply for the sake of the beloved. To bring joy to the beloved. Yes, of course love hopes for mutual affection. But true love endures in spite of continued indifference or even outright rejection. It "bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."

So, no, do not say no to one-way friendships. Say no to conditional friendship. Love is not quid pro quo.

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them."-Jesus

bucket list

A good friend recently surprised me with a journal of sorts, in which every entry has been predetermined. It satisfies my obsession with structure, unlike my actual journal, which is more like a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts. Only once in a blue moon do I have those serious introspective reflections. (There was actually a blue moon this year.)

Today's list is the bucket list-- the list of things I want to do before I die. Only that's not what it says. The exact words are, "List the things you must do before you die" (emphasis added).

I appreciated the irony, seeing as some people think the world is going to end today. I don't. (I don't think it's going to end for at least another few centuries, unless the Church starts caring about missions more. I think Christians are supposed to be hastening Jesus' return, not wasting their time trying to predict the day. But I digress.) Nevertheless, it seemed like an appropriate list for today.

You see, I used to have a bucket list. I wrote it the week after my high school graduation because I had so many regrets accumulate over those four short years. Some time later, I threw it away. I've written a lot of stupid journal entries over the years, many of which I hope no one ever reads. But for some reason, that list was the only entry I ever felt compelled to tear out and throw away.

It wasn't like it was an entirely nonsensical list; there were arguably worthwhile pursuits. Like sponsor a child. Go on a medical mission. Buy a new kitchen for my mom. But those were far outnumbered by the stupid items. Like complete a 2000-piece puzzle. And lots of travel. Maybe I've just been reading too much of Randy Alcorn, but I now realize how those plans for traveling were so inconsistent with Christian beliefs. If I believe in eternity and a new heaven and a new earth, why should I waste my time flying around in crowded airplanes to see places that have been marred by human hands? Why not just wait until I can teleport and see everything in its full splendor and majesty?

Earlier this semester, I told my friend that I didn't understand why God chose Israel. They were so hard-headed and arrogant, I quipped. "How could anyone possibly be that stupid?" I'd asked. Looking back now, I am amused and slightly appalled at the irony. I am just as sinful, just as arrogant, just as slow to learn, just as quick to forget. God chose Israel for the same reason he chose me. The same reason he chose any human being at all-- because he is a God of grace.

A few days ago, a friend shared the story of the Parthian shot:

"Tomorrow, there will be an archery competition to find out the best archer," Drona said. "When the sun climbs over the horizon, be ready with your bows and arrows."

The students polished their bows. They sharpened their arrows. Next morning they gathered in the yard. Glossy bows and pointed arrows gleamed in the sun. The wind was still but the students' hearts fluttered with excitement. Drona stepped out. In his hands was a bird made of clay. He laid it on a tree far from them.

"See that clay bird perched on the tree ahead of us? Aim at its eye," he said. Then he called the first student. The student plucked an arrow from the quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked. "I see the sun, the clouds, the trees," the student replied as he released the string. The arrow shot forward and landed yards away from the tree.

The second student took his position. He plucked an arrow from his quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked. "I see the tree, the branches, the leaves," the student replied as he released the string. The arrow shot forward and landed near the roots of the tree.

The next student came forward, plucked an arrow from his quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked. "I see the bird, its legs, its wings," the student replied as he let the string go. The arrow shot forward and grazed the wings of the bird.

Finally it was Arjuna's turn. He plucked an arrow from his quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked. "I see the eye of the bird," Arjuna replied. "What else do you see, Arjuna?" Drona asked. "Nothing. I see only the round black eye of the bird," Arjuna replied as he released the string. The arrow shot forward with a swoosh. It pierced the center of the eye of the clay bird.

By the second student, I'd figured out the moral and the ending. But this in no way diminished the significance of the story. It still drove home the conviction that in the years intervening between this one and the one during which I trashed that list, I've lost focus. I don't think I've ever had that perfect, singular focus, but there was a time when it was closer to the target than it is now.

As I reflect on this and other recent events, I realize this list is not going to be a list. Because there's only one target. There's only one thing I must do before I die: please Jesus.

There are a lot of lists in this book that I wish I could write more for. But I hope this list never grows for me. I hope it never expands beyond what is truly important. And even though it's not a list if there's only one item, it's an important one to reflect on regularly. It's important to think about death, because we don't know any better when we're going to die than when the world's really going to end.

drugs don't work in patients who don't take them

This week at rotations, a woman called in and asked me to help her identify a pill for her. As I was trying to explain that it could only be the Coreg, which she was no longer taking, she started going off on a rant about how she's still stage 2 hypertensive (240/110 or something ridiculous like that... I don't even know how that's compatible with life...) even though she's on almost every class of anti-hypertensive medication known to mankind. A beta-blocker, CCB and ARB combo, and a diuretic. She tried to blame her multiple doctors for her uncontrolled blood pressure, and it took all the self-control I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from blurting out, "Well maybe if you just took your meds like you're supposed to and weren't two freaking months late on your refills, you wouldn't have to doctor-shop and get another drug for a condition that probably could have been handled by just one doctor and drug." Okay, I would never actually say anything like that to a patient. But I think it several times a day at my rotation site (not at my job though).

It got me to thinking about how so often as Christians, we talk about how we have the solution to some condition or other, and yet so often, we ourselves refuse to swallow the pill. We won't accept the remedy that we know will cure our ailments. The problem foremost in my mind is worry. And at this stage in life, worry about school, career, and everything that hinges on the former. I am afraid that we have gotten too good at appearing not to be worried, rather than actually ceasing to be worried. This certainly does not apply to everyone, but I can't help but feel that many of us know what to say and do to make it look like we trust God-- when in reality we don't trust him nearly as much as we should. Perhaps the best example of this is praying or asking for prayer in handling the stress of doing well in school. If someone talks about just needing prayer to get through school, people tend to think, "Wow, he/she must trust God so much." But take it from someone who mastered the art of fooling everyone into thinking I was good with God-- this is a very dangerous way of thinking. It is exactly the kind of thing that led me into my crisis of faith months ago.

It just seems like the more we talk about trusting God with our grades and our futures, the less we actually do it. I can't help but think that if we were really trusting in God with those issues, we wouldn't be wasting so much breath on them. We'd spend more time talking about the problems that are actually important, the ones with eternal consequences. I can't help but think that we've become so proud of the fact that we learn to lay our worries at the feet of Jesus, that we forget we are supposed to leave them there. All too often, it seems, we get on our knees to unload a burden, only to rise and pick that burden right up again. But that is not the kind of relief that Jesus offers. Hundreds of self-help books are out there to help people learn to "not sweat the small stuff." The world has everything you need to forget your problems for just a while. But only Christ is the key to lasting peace.

Every Christian knows this. So why are so few of us taking hold of this wonderful peace? Because like the woman with the whole gamut of anti-hypertensive agents, we don't think it's that serious a problem. Or maybe we're afraid of the side effects. As Christians, we are meant to reflect the beauty of Christ. But if the "peace" we accept from him is only as good as-- or even inferior to-- the so-called peace of the world, who is going to be attracted to it? We've heard that passage in Matthew 6 so many times, and yet sometimes we still just don't get it. It's not simply telling us not to worry. It illustrates what it looks like not to worry, to get to that point where you no longer think about those things but instead take it as a given that God will provide. And despite all those stories you hear, trusting God won't always mean you magically get only A's and B's on your transcript. It might mean getting C's or D's, but still being absolutely sure that God's will for your life is good, pleasing, and perfect.