FRUIT.

Fruit.

It’s delicious. Nutritious. And, despite our best scientific advances, it can’t be created in a laboratory. Sorry to break it to you, kids, but Skittles aren’t a fruit.

Real fruit is the result of a long, intricate, seemingly mundane natural process.

A seed is planted. After years and years, it grows into a tree. Eventually, that tree becomes mature enough to bear fruit. Fruit begins to grow, and after a few more months, it’s ready to be harvested. Eaten. Enjoyed. Or, the fruit rots, falls, and releases more seeds, and the cycle begins anew.

For trees, being fruitful isn’t easy. It takes time. Patience. The right combination of sunlight, water, and soil. But it’s the only way the tree can reproduce, and the only way to create sweet, delicious fruit.

For humans, living a fruitful life isn’t so easy, either. We, especially in the West, live in a very results-oriented society, one that demands instant production without regard to the growth process. We are overworked, overstressed, overstimulated, and overwhelmed. Mother Teresa herself put it like this: “Everything is measured according to results, and we get caught up in being more and more active to generate results.”

We tend to demand the same level of immediate gratification from God that we look for in other areas of life, too. So you’ve given your heart to God, yet you still find yourself struggling with sin? With doubt? With old habits? You surrendered, but then plunged yourself into busying your schedule for God without taking the time to grow, in the secret, in the quiet place? Why is your life still tough? Why is your heart still broken?

Galatians talks about the “fruits of the Spirit.” Things like patience. Self-control. Kindness. Qualities that contradict our existing tendencies; go against what comes naturally to us. Qualities that take time to grow. These fruits don’t grow overnight, and don’t grow with concentrated, concerted effort on our part.

These fruits can only grow when we keep our eyes and hearts fixed on the only Source of Life. The Way. The Truth. The Life. Abide in the Vine, and you’ll bear fruit beyond your wildest expectations.

Simply put, seek Jesus first. Everything else you’re looking for will come out of this one decision to prioritize the only One who can change you from the inside out.

Paul says it like this: “When you intend to live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of grace. Meanwhile, we expectantly wait for a satisfying relationship with the Spirit. For in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love.”

God takes our inward faith and transforms it into the outward fruit that matters most: love.

Just as fruit doesn’t discriminate when it comes to who eats it, true love doesn’t discriminate when it comes to its recipient. All the religion in the world is useless if it doesn’t lead to love. Love for everyone. Muslim, Christian, Sikh, atheist. Gay, straight, trans. Asian, African, Arab, American, Antarctican.

Mother Teresa, again, nails it when she says, “The success of love is in the loving; it is not in the result of loving.”

We don’t love so that others can believe the same things we do. We don’t love only those who look like us, think like us, act like us. We love because we can’t help it: the love of Christ, burning inside of us, leaves us passionate about people. Gung-ho about giving. Crazy about changing the world.

This is the fruit an unbelieving world needs to see, to taste. An unbelieving world, fed up with Christians who say one thing and do another, sick of atrocities being committed in the name of Christ, and tired of judgmental, narrow-minded, legalistic believers, will never be confronted with the reckless love of a Savior if the closest they get to seeing Him is looking at a bunch of His followers whose love, or lack thereof, looks nothing like that of the Jesus they claim to know.

This is why Jesus tells us, begs us, to abide in Him. Let His Spirit do His work on the inside before we rush out to do His work on the outside. Take time to let the Master Vintner cultivate you, prune you, get you ready to bear His fruit.

God is far more concerned with who we are in Him than what we do for Him. Seek first the Kingdom of God, and fruit, yes, all the fruit, will be added unto you.

PEACE.

Just over two thousand years ago, a baby was born.

This baby promised to bring peace to a broken, violent world.

You probably know the story. A king sought to kill this baby, and in the process murdered thousands of other innocent children. This baby’s family fled.

Years passed. This baby grew into a man, a man who taught. Healed. Forgave. More often than not, though, his words divided. Incited riots. Caused many to plot his death.

Many of his followers misunderstood his mission. They thought he came to free them from oppressive Roman rule, not from sin.

Ultimately, he was executed brutally. The friend who had betrayed him hung himself. His followers scattered.

Where was this promised peace?

This man rose from the dead. Went back to heaven victorious, to sit at the right hand of God. On Earth, though, things spiraled downward for those who believed in him. His message spread all over the world, but those who carried it were imprisoned, persecuted, crucified, hanged. Burned at the stake. Disembowled.

Finally, his teachings were made the official religion of a powerful empire. Things got better for his followers, but only those who believed certain doctrines. Those who espoused heretical beliefs like salvation by grace and baptism by immersion? Hunted down.

Wars were fought in his name. Against his name. Inquisitions. Atrocities. Genocide.

An entire race was enslaved, then freed, then still oppressed by a country founded on freedom for all. They were granted equal rights, then ruthlessly shot by police in cold blood.

An entire religion was rounded up, worked to death, gassed.

Catholic against Protestant. Hutu against Tutsi. Sunni against Shiite. Arab against Jew. ISIS against pretty much everyone.

Openly racist, misogynist candidates won elections on platforms of hate throughout the ostensibly civilized Western world.

Aleppo. Rwanda. Belfast. Ground Zero. Mogadishu. The list goes on.

Where is this promised peace?

I believe that one day, this man over whom so many wars have been fought will return, not as a crying, helpless baby in a barn but as a king in his glory. He’ll put an end to war, to death, to sin. There will be peace on Earth.

But could it be that we, like the Jews who he lived among over two millennia ago, have misunderstood his mission?

They looked for someone to free their country. He came to free their hearts.

Perhaps we, too, have been looking for a Messiah to right this world’s wrongs. To end wars. To eliminate suffering. To advance some holy political agenda. To make our lives better. Less stress. Fewer tears. Fewer spilled lattes. A personal Messiah who lets us sit on his lap and tell him what we want for Christmas.

It’s brutally obvious, though, that this sort of Messiah never came. The world is a mess. Our lives are still broken and full of pain.

Could it be, though, that the peace he promised to bring is already here, in the midst of the maelstrom we call Earth? In the midst of divorce, bankruptcy, unemployment, loneliness?

Perhaps real peace doesn’t come once everything is made perfect. Once everything is the way we’ve planned. Once we’ve fashioned a Savior in our own image.

The Prince of Peace puts it this way, in the Gospel of John: “I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”

The angels who announced the birth of the Prince of Peace are often misquoted. They didn’t proclaim some utopian age of peace. They didpromise peace to those who believed in the newborn Savior. Not the peace the world gives, but a peace that can’t be shaken, come whatever may.

This peace doesn’t come by trying to avoid difficulties. Peace comes in how we respond when the difficulties inevitably arrive.

The Prince of Peace himself gave up everything to become a crying baby. The Light, who took all our darkness upon himself, lived a tumultuous life. Died a violent death. His thirty-three years on Earth were hardly a portrait of peace.

Yet, he was at peace. With his Father. With his mission.

Peace comes by trusting in a God who didn’t stand idly by as we ate the forbidden fruit. As we wrote this Earth’s story, a story of war, of death, of hate, of pain.

Peace comes by trusting in a God who entered our story. Who rewrote it. Who gave it an ending far better than anything we can imagine. Who, while we are here on this Earth, has promised us a peace that passes all understanding. We can’t even wrap our feeble, finite minds around it. But it’s real. It’s here.

It’s not a magic wand; it’s a journey. I trust God, yet I still doubt, worry, fear. I try to find peace in so many lesser things. All the while, the Prince of Peace graciously invites me, and you, to be co-writers in his story. In our new story. A story of peace in the middle of the storm.

This is the peace we’ve been promised.

A SLAVE TO THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR.

I’m stuck.

Not under a rock for 127 hours, hacking off my own arm, although that’s what many of you think will inevitably happen to me on one of my climbing adventures.

No. Far worse, actually. I’m stuck in life.

Why? Because, like Sisyphus, I’m chained to something that I hate.

Money.

In fact, I would posit that most, if not all, Americans are slaves to the dollar in one way or another.

I’m working 40 hours a week at two different bars, and spending another 20 hours a week working on my various entrepreneurial endeavors. For what? So that I can take another trip, buy another house, plan for the future.

But why? We’re not even guaranteed tomorrow, much less retirement at 65 or 75 or 85, since Social Security will be bone-dry by the time I’m actually eligible.

We work. We all work. Except those who lazily sit at home watching Netflix and collecting unemployment, never applying for jobs or working very many hours lest they lose their government benefits. Benefits that come out of working class pockets. But, that’s another blog post altogether. I digress.

We justify our slavery to money with lines like, “Well, my family needs to eat!” or “I’m just trying to be smart financially!”

All the while, the bonds of slavery tighten.

Are you stuck? Do you feel like you just can’t get ahead? Do you tell yourself that once you’re in a different place financially, or once you get that promotion, or once you get a different job, or once your kids are grown, you’ll do things differently?

What does “getting ahead” even mean? It means more. Bigger houses. Faster toys. More first-class tickets.

What good is it if a man gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?

Contrary to popular belief, I’m not independently wealthy. In the least. I have no kids, no wife, no car payment, and no student debt (or debt of any kind, except mortgages), which enables me to spend money on a lot of things that I enjoy. Then, I go back to work and save up and do it all over again.

Some may point to the things I do and say that I’m an inspiration, that my photos and adventures inspire them to get out and do more, that my music touches them. I definitely appreciate hearing those things. However, much of what I do is based around me. I’m selfish to the core.

Hiking, travel, and real estate aren’t bad things. In fact, they’re positive, when part of a balanced approach to life and finances. Unfortunately, I lack that balance.

Sure, I sponsor some children in Africa and India. Sure, I donate a portion of each album sale to MercyCorps. And I pat myself on the back smugly and go right on living a selfish life, a slave to the dollar and what it can do for me.

Do I say I trust God with everything, including my money? Yes.

Does my life demonstrate that to be true? No.

Here I sit, in my comfortable house that cost me hundreds of thousands, wearing clothes that cost me hundreds, drinking organic kombucha that cost me $5, writing about money and sacrifice.

What would it take for me to step out in faith? To quit my job, to sell almost everything, and to move to a place with a lot of need? To give my life, and money, in service to others, not from a stage but behind the scenes? Would I finally learn to rely on God, to give Him control of my wallet as well as my heart?

God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He doesn’t promise to make things easy for us. In fact, just the opposite. The Message puts Matthew 10:38–39 this way: “If you don’t go all the way with me, through thick and thin, you don’t deserve me. If your first concern is to look after yourself, you’ll never find yourself. But if you forget about yourself and look to me, you’ll find both yourself and me.”

I’m comfortable. I’m stuck. I don’t deserve Him. And I can’t find myself.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a man who wants to give more. Who wants to serve more. But because of my dependence on the almighty dollar and the security and happiness it brings, I can’t. Or won’t. My first concern is to look after myself. So I remain stuck. Stuck in a barely bourgeoisie bubble of comfort and cowardice. My savings account gets fuller while my soul is sucked dry.

What’s it going to take?

My Westernized brain tells me to include a disclaimer here. To say something about how saving and planning are good and balance is necessary. God calls us to be faithful stewards, after all, in a famous parable.

In reading that parable, though, it’s easy to forget that the money that we’re supposed to steward is His, not our own. Do we believe that? Do we actually think that He can provide? Do we go search for our own beef instead of trusting in His cattle on a thousand hills? Do we hedge our bets against His faithfulness with our 401ks and investments? What could He do with our money if we trusted Him with more than ten percent of it?

I don’t have the guts to find out. I wish I did. I hope to.

Did the words of Jesus somehow take on a different meaning over the last two millennia? Did He ask more of his followers then than He does of us now? Does writing a check to a charity really count as giving up everything to follow Him? Or have we become numb to the stark reality of what Jesus has called us to do: to trust Him with everything? To sacrifice everything?

What if Jesus Himself, after thinking things through, would have decided not to give it all? What if He would have come down wrapped in glory, said some positive things about self-improvement, and then ascended back to heaven, never having tasted death or suffering on our behalf? Our eternal future would look a lot different, that’s for sure.

In conclusion, I don’t have answers. I don’t know how to unchain myself, but I know that some big changes are necessary. And they’re coming.

I don’t want to be Sisyphus. I don’t want to be stuck.

Money is replaceable. Time spent chasing it is not.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

Have We Lost The Ability To Be Satisfied?

Last night, as I streamed music from Spotify across the room to a Bluetooth soundbar, I thought back to the long-lost days of my childhood. Days of cassette players. Of rewinding tapes with a pencil. Of burned CDs.

Now, with a tap of a smartphone screen, I can access any song, anywhere, anytime.

Faster. Stronger. Bigger. Better.

The world as we know it has changed dramatically in my lifetime alone. Technology has vastly improved our efficiency as human beings. What have we done? Sat back, relaxed, and spent more time with our families and friends? Of course not. We’ve piled more and more on our already-burgeoning plates in a scramble to keep up with a tech-powered world that shows no signs of slowing down.

I’m writing this blog as I’m sitting in a leather seat at 35,000 feet, connected to inflight WiFi, headed from Portland to Montreal in less than 7 hours.

Technology has brought about some astounding achievements. We’re closer than ever to eradicating some deadly diseases. We’re more connected with loved ones across the world than ever before. We have eliminated the need to know by virtual encyclopedias at our fingertips. Our phones can do the work of 20 different gadgets, all for less money than a couch.

However, technology also has a dark side. And I’m not just talking about nuclear proliferation, loss of interpersonal communication skills in today’s youth, genetic modification threatening to blur the lines of what’s human in the near future, or even the autotuned career of Katy Perry.

What I’m talking about is even more dangerous, and it is this: we have lost the ability to be satisfied.

More. More. More. More. More.

We can’t simply sit and watch a breathtaking sunset anymore. Now, we have to post it to Instagram or it didn’t happen. Family dinners? Forget it. Everyone is on their phones. We want to live longer, but we do less and less of lasting value with the time we do have. We want the latest heart medication, but would rather pop a pill than stop eating cheeseburgers on the daily. Kids post Periscope videos of their friends getting raped. Everyone sits and tweets, and nobody takes action, while Bill Nye The Science Guy almost dies onstage.

America is engaged in a very crucial election. Our country is on the brink of putting the next Hitler in the White House. Yet, I guarantee you that nine out of ten Americans know more about Game Of Thrones than they do about an election with very real, very disastrous implications.

We need more. More right swipes on Tinder. More likes and loves on our Facebook posts. The best makeup, jeans, bike, phone, car, house, whatever. Still, when we get what we want, we want even more still. We battle with depression. Loneliness. Suicidal thoughts and actions. As prophet/comedian Louis C.K. puts it, “Everything is amazing, and nobody’s happy.”

Meanwhile, on our own planet, millions and millions of our fellow humans have no access to clean water, have to scavenge and beg for food, and have never heard of the Internet. They are probably happier than we are.

I’m in no way insinuating that we return to some sort of Luddite stone-age society. I’m not saying that we should stop trying to better ourselves, put a wrench in the spokes of the wheels of invention, or stop purchasing technology that improves our lives in meaningful ways. I am suggesting, though, that we will never truly be happy until we learn to be content with what we have, and content with who we are. The endless quest for more can be as addicting as any opiate. We’ve got to find a way to detox, as individuals and as a society.

When will we collectively say that enough is enough?

Elon Musk and SpaceX want to colonize Mars. Part of me thinks it’s ludicrous to invest trillions in space exploration when our own planet is a mess.

Another part of me, though, thinks that Earth is in a downward spiral from which it will never recover, and we might as well get out if we can and go screw up another world. I’d like to apologize in advance, Mars.

When will enough be enough? When will we understand that just because we can doesn’t mean we should? Can we get off this ride before we forget what it
means to be human? Can we put down our phones and enjoy the beauty this world has to offer before we ravage and kill it entirely? Can we unlearn how to
Snapchat and relearn how to actually hold a meaningful conversation?

If I were a betting man, I wouldn’t put my money on us turning this ship around.

I ask you to take a minute. Put aside your financial goals for a second. Put down your phone and tablet. Turn off your TV. And, think. Alone. Think about all the things you are grateful for. Think about the ways in which you ARE satisfied. Think about the people you love, the people who love you.

Disconnect and reconnect.

Satisfaction is a choice. Life doesn’t come with a refund policy. You can’t take it back to the store if you’re not satisfied. As Jim Carrey said so profoundly, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”

What is the answer, then? What are we all looking for? I can’t answer that question for you, but I can answer it for myself. I crave a simple, authentic life. I want to collect experiences, not things. I want genuine relationships with God, my family, and my friends. I want to make a difference, tangibly, whether big or small.

Maybe you can’t put the brakes on society as a whole. Maybe you can’t change the world in a monumental way. But you can change your world. Choose to find happiness in the things that matter. Choose life.

Enough is enough.

MR. TRUMP, YOU'RE AN IDIOT.

Mr. Trump:

You’re an idiot. Actually, idiot doesn’t even begin to sum you up. Monster might be a better term. Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower, you have.

Congratulations on doing your best to capitalize politically off of the heinous tragedy in Orlando.

Patting yourself on the back and issuing an I-told-you-so on Twitter in the wake of 50 needless deaths? Classy, Donald. Classy.

Want to implement your racist, Hitler-esque proposal to ban Muslim immigration? It wouldn’t have helped. The shooter was born in the US.

Think that arming everyone would have prevented this shooting? Think again. There was an armed guard at the nightclub. How did that work out?

Why should anyone be able to buy an automatic or semiautomatic weapon, anyway? Oh, you’re going to hunt deer? I think not. You’re going to hunt humans.

You’re all of a sudden trying to present yourself as an advocate for the LGBT community? How many times have you come out against gay marriage and equality? How many times have you made derogatory comments about everyone from Caitlyn Jenner to Michael Sam?

You, Mr. Trump, and those who share your xenophobic, homophobic, bigoted, ignorant views, are the reason ISIS and terrorists worldwide hate America. You absolutely sum up all of the reasons why we are under attack. If all Americans were like you, I wouldn’t be too fond of this country either. Our biggest threat is coming from within: Americans who have realized that this country stands for something pretty far from the values it was founded on.

Deluded Donald, you are truly an awful person, to your core. You have spent your entire life in a high tower of wealth and affluence. You are absolutely clueless on foreign policy, and all policy, really. You respond like a bullied toddler when someone attacks you. You rejoice when the market crashes, so you can make money. You flip-flop on everything, including political parties. You’re a liar. A cheat. A bigot. A fraud.

You bring a bulldozer when a surgical scalpel would suffice.

Judd Apatow put it like this on Twitter: “Is it possible to be a more self serving, terrifying dumbass than you? Congrats on that. You won that contest.”

Want to make America great again? Shut the hell up, and withdraw from the presidential race in disgrace.

FISTS OVER FLOWERS.

Why Socialism Will Never Succeed In America.

I’m a socialist, of sorts.

I’m also an American, of sorts.

I would love to see these two identifying characteristics coincide. Sadly, despite best efforts, policies, and intentions, socialism will never succeed in the United States.

Why? Because Americans are simply too damn selfish.

I just got back from a trip to two of the world’s model socialist countries, Norway and Sweden. Their societies consistently rank among the safest, happiest, and most fulfilling on the planet.

Yes, people in both countries pay taxes. A significant amount of them. But, they also receive a litany of important benefits. For free. Healthcare, education, social security that isn’t going bankrupt, you name it. I worked my butt off this past year, and qualified for a higher tax bracket. I paid over $14,000 in taxes. Yet, I still paid almost $300 a month for my healthcare premium, not to mention the thousands I’ve spent fighting Lyme Disease that haven’t been covered by my insurance at all. I also pay into Social Security that I will most likely never receive.

Here in America, the argument is frequently made that socialism is misguided, because why should those who don’t want an education have to pay for those who do? Why do those who don’t need healthcare have to pay for those who do?

Well, I didn’t want a war. Or two. Yet my taxpayer dollars helped fund Iraq and Afghanistan, and they continue to be used towards our multi-trillion-dollar defense budget, against my will.

Capitalism does NOT always give you a choice.

You’re telling me that if healthcare were free, people would milk the system? Possibly so. But as the country with the first world’s highest obesity rate, people are milking the system anyway. And, it’s whole milk, not skim or soy. Rather than eating right and exercising, they’re spending their food stamps (socialism!) on Doritos and hamburgers, then costing taxpayers trillions of dollars in raised healthcare costs to treat diseases and conditions that could have easily been prevented by simple healthy choices.

The truth is, you’d be hard-pressed to name another society that is simply as me-first and selfish as American society today.

In theory, socialism is a phenomenal system of governance. In reality, when put into practice in individualistic societies such as that of the United States, it fails miserably.

Ironically, it’s Republicans, who often identify themselves as Bible-believing Christians, who want to do away with the very social programs that Jesus Himself taught: taking care of the poor, the sick, the needy, the widow, the orphan.

You think Jesus would’ve voted Republican? Think again. The love of money is the root of all evil, Mr. Trump. (Not that Trump has ever actually opened a Bible, but if he did, he might find that verse in there.) Look at the early church in the book of Acts, the one that guy named Jesus founded. Everyone shared everything for the good of the community. Everyone was heavily involved in serving the less fortunate. Everyone wanted to live the selfless life that that guy Jesus had lived. Ever heard of turning the other cheek? Don’t worry, neither has Donald Drumpf.

Every socialist society recognizes that when the good of the group is sought after, when the needs of everyone in society are met, one’s own needs are met in the process.

Just because you don’t put yourself first doesn’t mean that you can’t take care of yourself. In fact, quite the opposite. It’s in recognizing that the greater good is greater than just yourself that we find that others are doing the same. We find community. Authentic relationships. Love. Things that this disconnected, entitled, mass-shooting-prone, sociopathic society are sorely lacking.

I hate to break it to you, right-wing Trump-touting Christians: Jesus was a liberal. A socialist, even. He advocated SO many ideals that you vote against. What happened? The religious right murdered him. Open your beloved Bible, and look past the three verses on gays and look towards the three thousand on grace.

This country will never boast the utopian, peaceful, communal society that I wish it would. Guns will always outsell Super Soakers. War will always outsell peace. Crimes will always outnumber acts of kindness.

Fists over flowers. Hate over heart. If our country is idiotic enough to put a racist, misogynist, completely underqualified, fraudulent, petty bully in the Oval Office and anywhere near the button that controls our thousands of nuclear warheads, I’m leaving. For good. It’s not about Democrat versus Republican. It’s about one qualified candidate that I certainly don’t love, versus a certifiably insane “candidate” who is endorsed by the KKK and Putin, and would be endorsed by Hitler, too, if he were alive. Just ask Anne Frank’s stepsister. Making America great again doesn’t mean an isolationist, imperialistic foreign policy. It doesn’t mean hearkening back to the dark days of constant racial discrimination and hatred. The things that make America great don’t involve Confederate flags, internment camps, and segregation.

So, you call yourself an American? Please, I beg you: think. Vote for anyone but Trump. Do your part to remember that we’re not called to question the motives or the choices of those less privileged than us. We’re called to help them. By God Himself. Don’t believe in God? That’s fine too. Shouldn’t the fact that less fortunate people are human too be reason enough?

Choose flowers over fists. Choose heart over hate. Together, we can make America great again.

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN TOMORROW AND TODAY.

I’m stuck.

Somewhere in between tomorrow and today.

In my heart, I know that life is short and none of us are promised another sunrise. I know that being present in the moment is the most meaningful way to live. That waiting for a better time means our time may run out before that better time comes.

In my head, though, I know that the future matters. That throwing all financial, relational, and spiritual responsibility to the wind in the name of #yolo is a careless and ultimately self-destructive way to live. That it’s important to invest in relationships, in Roth IRAs, in real estate.

My heart wants to blow all my savings on travel, on giving, on experiencing, on making memories.

My head wants to save, save, save. Get better at adulting. Pick up another shift. Another job. Buy another house. Put my nose to the grindstone until it bleeds the blood of responsibility.

I’m stuck somewhere between tomorrow and today. Perhaps you can relate.

I know there must be a balance between the two. I just don’t know how to find it.

Last year, I only went on one international trip. I worked 70 hours a week. I saved relentlessly and made sacrifices. I invested in the future, invested in the things my head wants. Until, that is, I came down with the devastating mystery illness that made me want to die, that put me in bed for 15 hours a day, that required months of testing and hordes of doctors in order to ultimately be identified as Lyme Disease.

This year, after several months of antibiotics and drastic lifestyle changes, I’m on the road to recovery and feeling a solid 50% better. As a result, my heart once again dominates my decisions. I just got back from Greece and Turkey last month. I’m going to Norway, Sweden and Denmark in less than a week, and to Quebec and Vermont in June, two trips that I cannot and should not afford. I’m taking nights off work, impromptu, to stay at the beach. I’m investing in the present. Investing in the things my heart wants.

You see, I could die tomorrow.

Or, I could live another 70 years.

Nobody but God knows my future, and He’s not being all too forthcoming about it.

So I search for the balance between tomorrow and today, between the head and the heart.

As with most things (except for maybe lead in Flint’s water supply), moderation is key. I need to strive to find balance, to live for today while planning for tomorrow. I dare say that no workaholic who reaches the end of her life wishes she would’ve spent more time in the office. Conversely, though, no party animal who ends up homeless and penniless wishes he would’ve spent more of his money on frivolous things, either.

The common thread that sews together today and tomorrow, I suppose, is purpose. Why am I here? What was I put on this earth to accomplish? To become?

I believe that I am here for two things: to love God and to love people. Most days, in my pursuit of either present happiness or future preparedness, I fail miserably at loving anyone but myself. But, in the midst of the clutter and clamor of today and the uncertainty and anticipation of tomorrow, there is One who was, and is, and is to come. And His love is unbelievably perfect. Unbelievably selfless. Unbelievably, we are the objects of His affection.

He made the ultimate sacrifice to live in our present experience, to live as a man on a wicked planet, to walk a mile in our shoes while carrying a rugged cross. Having conquered death, He started planning for the future. He went home to prepare a place for us, so that we could spend forever with Him in a world full of none of the questions we now face. Because He lives, we can face tomorrow, and today.

In the light of what I believe really matters in this life, it’s still wise to plan for tomorrow while living for today. I will still strive to find balance, to slow the wild pendulum that swings back and forth between my head and my heart. Mercifully, though, we are not in control of our own destiny, in control of how many sunsets we will live to see on this pained planet. So, we live in each moment while looking towards the future. A future far better than anything we could have concocted on our own. A future far better than a Social Security check, a pension, and a bad back and arthritic hips. A perfect future, crafted by the Maker Himself.

A future where every day will always have a tomorrow, and each day will be better than the last.