Most of us do not claim to be actors.

Very few of us have ever taken the stage or been in front of a camera.  We have never been taught the finer points of how to bring a fictional character to life for an audience.

And yet, many of us have been acting in an uncredited role for much of our lives.  I know I have done it.  I have spent much of my adult life pretending.  I have made up a fictional version of myself, a version of myself that I want people to believe is real.

The problem is that I have often spent so much time and energy pretending to be something, when I could just actually be the person I’m pretending to be.  

If the make-believe version of yourself is so great, if that’s what you want people to believe you are, then why not make a change?  Why not be the person you pretend to be?  Don’t give people the fake version of you.  Just believe that you can be the great person you want to be.  Be an artist, a writer, a singer, a superhero.

It’s the most important role of your lifetime.


What do you wish you were?  What are you pretending to be today?  What if you decided to stop pretending and just started to be?


This week, I largely avoided the news.

There comes a point when the events of the world are just so frustrating, so maddening, that it does me no good to try to keep up with it.  I simply shut it all out.  I know, I’m kind of a fatalist.  Things are going to do what they are going to do whether I read about it or not.

However, I was pleasantly surprised at just how fruitful everyone else was this week.  Here are a few things that fueled me.

On My Calendar

It occurred to me recently that it has been a very long time since I tried anything new.  When was the last time I actually did something where I might fail, where I have to be a student, an amateur?  

Enter Thursday nights.  I’ve had an itch in the back of my mind for a couple of years now, and I’m finally scratching it.  I signed up for a basic woodworking class at our local guild.  Not because I have to, or I want to start a new career or open an Etsy shop.  I don’t care if what I bring home looks like a child made it.  I am so thrilled to just try something new.

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You may have seen it in the news.  Recess is

A school in New York recently made headlines by banning traditional sports balls from recess (allowing soft Nerf balls instead) as well as games of tag, cartwheels and other forms of “unorganized” play.

And although this is just one school, it is happening everywhere.  Schools in my own city are doing the same thing.  No soccer balls or footballs.  No rough games.  Basically, no fun.

Now, I’m not saying that a trip to the ER is my idea of fun.  But the issue that is raised in my mind is the negative and downright false lessons our kids our learning from our hyper-vigilant safety crusade.

What could be so bad about keeping our kids from getting hurt?  How about this…

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Everyone is looking for a formula, a plan, a few steps for better living.

And the people who aren’t looking are the ones who are selling us the formulas, plans and steps.  Good living is just so easy…well, as easy as a few easy payments.

I don’t buy into much of the self-improvement fad.  I scoff most of the time when a pastor or motivator or leader tells me that my life can be better with three or five easy steps.  If I just do “X, Y, Z,” then my life will be complete.  Usually, one of those steps involve giving the expert my money.  I think step one of their formula for better living is “Make up a formula for better living.”  Step two: “Sell your formula to a lot of people.”

But I like Mary Oliver’s formula.  There is no cost involved.  It is simple.  Anyone can do it.

Most of us are not even completing step one.  We just go through the motions and then wonder where the years went.  We feel cheated, simply because we didn’t bother with step one.

Step two is even more elusive.  It takes a certain amount of faith, a particular level of childish joy in a person to do step two.  Even if people do step one, most of them don’t get past this one.

And finally step three.  I’ve come to think that if people have not done steps one and two, and are trying to skip to step three, then whatever they are saying is probably not much worth listening to.  It’s only by doing steps one and two and we actually find our voices.

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So which step are you on today?  Don’t worry, it’s probably best to start at step one every day, isn’t it?

510yS4Z0TgL._AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-46,22_AA300_SH20_OU01_Have you ever been on fire?

Not like, for real in flames.  I’ve never spontaneously combusted.  Like in the Jesus-y spiritual, feel-good sense.

My blog-buddy, Addie Zierman is releasing her first book next week, When We Were On Fire: A Memoir of Consuming Faith, Tangled Love and Starting Over.  I can’t tell you how happy I am for her or how excited I am to talk about this book.

Why?  Because if you’ve been a Christian for a while, you’ve probably been there.  You’ve been on fire for Jesus.  Being on fire was all the rage when we were kids in the nineties.  Even for us Methodist kids, there was still a little bit of that Holy Spirit fire.  It looked different for some of us, depending on what part of evangelical culture we were raised in.  For some of us, it was WWJD bracelets.  For others, it was trying to evangelize your friends at school or going on mission trips.

But then, somehow, your faith hits the rocks.  The flame, which is supposed to be eternal starts to flicker.

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I have a confession to make.

It might not seem like a big deal to you.  But it is a big one to me.

For a long time, I have dealt with a lot of self-doubt.  A lot of insecurity.  A lot of anxiety and even occasional depression.  I thought that all of these things might have many different causes.

It has taken me nearly all of my thirty years to realize that virtually all of the sufferings in my mind all come from one source.

The source of all my frustrations and anxieties is this: I care…

I care about what people think of me.  I care about it a lot.

I care about it at work.  I care about it in church.  I care about what you think of me.  It really is true.  I am not speaking in hyperbole.  I have tried to hide or deny that fact.  I have tried to act like I don’t care.  But trying to cover it up has caused me so much suffering.  I care profoundly about what people think of me.  Maybe that makes me a narcissist.  Now I’m afraid people might think I’m a narcissist.

Perhaps in our age of social media, it’s easier than ever to get caught up in what others think of us.  There are so many more people whose opinions we can care about.

This is what I’m trying to do to recover from my obsession with what people think of me.

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