the smell of competition...

One of the CleanPlace teens and I got into a discussion last week about competition. I think I rather surprised her when I said that I find little value in it and have never much cared for it. Since she is a rather driven young lady who competes in several things (debate and music competitions), she was trying to convince me of the merits of competition. She pointed out that it can help build character, sharpen skills, and encourage you to be better. For herself, she loves what competition has done in her life.

And while competition CAN do those things for SOME people, I had to point out that it does not do that for a good lot of people. Many of us, if given the chance, decide not to be competitive.

Personally, I dislike competition for several reasons. First off, I find it to be negative. There is one winner and the rest are losers. I don't care what the competition is for, but I would put good money down that those "losers" were often very good at whatever skill it was they were competing in. But because there can only be one (or three, if we go Olympics style judging) winners, the rest must, by definition, be losers. Just because I'm not as good as Judy Jumper at long jump doesn't make me a loser, it just may mean that Judy has longer legs than I do. But how many kids have cried and though something wrong with themselves because they didn't win at long jump or the talent show? Too many.

Second, competition is selfish. You know the old story of the race at a Special Olympics where one of the runners falls down? And all the other runners stop racing and help that one up, and help him or her to the finish line. You know why we all forward that message? Because despite the fact that they are supposed to be competing, these runners set aside the prize for the sake of others. Competition says "me," "my," and "mine". "My team" will crush yours. "The prize is mine." But we were not created to be alone--we were created to live together.

And that brings me to the third point, which is the newest, and came to me after the conversation (as I was reflecting and polishing my thoughts). Competition is, perhaps, unGodly. God did not set it up so that only one person gets to go to heaven. He welcomes us all. God did not say that only the person who prays the best prayer will get to heaven. Nor the person who can speak in the most tongues. God never asks us to be better than any other one of His children--He simply asks us to be the best WE can be.

As I thought more about it, I realized that since God created us each uniquely, that to pit our gifts and talents (yes, skills!) against each other may not be glorifying to Him. He would rather see us each excel in the gift, use it to the extent that He gave it. And since the talents come from Him, we should not lord it over our fellow man if God did not give him the same measure.

My young friend (who was really just enjoying a debate, she does see some of my side, though I'm not sure she will ever agree with it, loving competition as she does) feels that the positive aspects of competition outweigh the negative. I, on the other hand, see other ways in which to get the positive aspects without the negative. I don't need to compete against my fellow writers in order to sharpen my skills--I can work with them in critique groups to polish both their work and mine. I don't need to go head-to-head against a friend in order to learn about their skill--I'd much rather sit down and have them share and teach me. As for the character building that they always say comes with losing, well, life is full of loss. I hardly need competition to hand me that lesson.

So, what do you think? Do you like to compete? Has it been a good or bad experience for you? I'm interested to hear your thoughts!

(Note: I am all up for friendly, goofy competitions like games and silly stuff. It's the serious stuff that I'm more addressing. So yes, I'll crush you at a game of Nertz, but only as long as I know we'll not think the less of each other at the end of it!)

generosity quagmire

(Note: I’m not pointing fingers at anyone here except myself. I’m just trying to wrestle with my own humanity.)

I’ve been thinking a lot about generosity. Seems simple enough. It’s about sharing and giving, about open hands and hearts. But as with most subjects, start to dig and you find out there’s nothing simple. God is pretty clear that He wants us to be generous with our love, our resources, our very lives. So I think it’s worth pondering.

I have a friend who thinks she is very generous. She has a good job she’s able to give a lot away. And she does. But recently, when she was giving to me, I noticed that her giving always has strings attached. She expects something in return—sometimes that’s attention, sometimes praise, and sometimes a bowing to her will.

And that got me thinking—does generosity have strings attached? Can we be generous if we expect something in return? Is generosity about filling a need or about giving abundantly? What if we DO get something in return, does that negate the generosity?

Let’s go back a few years to a time that I was without a car and without a job. One friend had a car that she wasn’t using (she was traveling). Other friends (a married couple) had two cars, both of which they used regularly. The first friend said I could use her car, but only if I needed to go to a job interview. The other friends handed me the keys to one of their cars and said, “take it for the week, it’s yours.” Loaning me the car was no inconvenience to the first, and quite an inconvenience to the second (it meant more carpooling and getting rides in order for them to accomplish everything they needed to do as a family). Both were meeting a need, but was only one being truly generous?

I like to give stuff—and yet I find myself sometimes feeling jipped when my gifts are not acknowledged. Earlier this year I took a meal to a family who had been through some rough times. I was happy to help out because they had a need. Yes, I spent more in making them a meal than I usually spend on food for myself for a week (because I’m one and they are four). I dropped it off at the house with a note.

And I never heard anything from them. They never mentioned the meal, never said “thank you.” Nothing. I waited three months, and still, no word.

Which made me feel like my gift had been scorned and unappreciated. I gave because I wanted to bless them. There’s no rule that says you have to say thanks, but it is polite. But because they didn’t, my desire to share another meal in the future is dimmed, squashed, even snuffed out.

When it comes to giving to people I don’t know, I’m even worse—I want to make sure they use the money or resources wisely. Yet I have no control over what they do, so I don’t give. And that’s me being ungenerous. And that bothers me.

So all of that to say that I’m struggling with how to be more generous. How to give with an open hand, to not put requirements or expectations (even “thank you”) on my giving. It’s hard. I haven’t figured it out. I’m glad I have some friends who do this well—I keep watching and try to learn more from them.

What do you think? How do you see generosity? Can we be generous with expectations? Should we give until it hurts? Talk to me!

upon watching the lunar eclipse...

Tonight was one of those once in a lifetime events--a total lunar eclipse on the winter solstice. I almost forgot to go out, but thanks to Facebook, I remembered in time. I was able to catch the last minutes before the moon slipped entirely into earth's shadow. The poet in me had this reaction: the moon is no longer a glowing orb, but a pearl hanging amid a sea of diamonds.

And then the shadow overtook the moon, and I was amazed at the transformation. What normally appears as a flat disk in the sky suddenly was a planet--a ball, round and small, hovering in the atmosphere, as if I could reach out and pluck it down. And I thought how often the sky appears as a two-dimensional blanket covering our three-dimensional world. But it is not--no! Outside our own little ball the universe is full of moons and suns and planets in three-dimensional glory. Solid and tangible (and sometimes not so solid, like Jupiter, and yet so real). How often do we forget this?

But that's not the end of the eclipse (though it is the point where most people retreat inside, seeking warmth and bed). The moon was still in shadow, but it would emerge. So I stayed, watching, waiting for light to return. And as the light returned to touch the moon's surface, I was reminded that the moon itself produces no light; all the light of the moon is really reflected sunlight. Oh how like the moon we should be!

I know I'm cold and stony--made up of dust. But God, creator of the universe, is the sun, with enough power and light to illuminate even my dark soul. And though sometimes a shadow will step between me and God, the shadow will not remain. When the shadow passes, when I am turned and danced away from it again, God's light will touch me once more, allowing me to shine His light down to those who are in darkness.

See--sometimes it's worth staying up late!

a little thing called trust…

I’ve never really been one to trust easily, it just doesn’t come naturally to me. And this translates into my spiritual life and relationship with God. And this makes for some interesting conundrums.

See, I want to trust God, and in my head, the thinking part of me, I do. If I were all brain I’d be all set in this area. But I’m not. I’m at least part heart. And my heart doesn’t listen to logic, it doesn’t listen to much of anything, to be honest. It just reacts and yearns and generally makes trouble for me. And when I come to those points in my life where the only thing I have left is trusting God, well, let’s just say that’s when I want to just crawl in a hole and never come out.

Before you all freak out, let me just say that yes, God has never hung me out to dry. He has seen that I’m provided for, cared for, and has not struck me dead.

And yet I come to points like the one I’m at currently, a point where I am trying to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, trying to have a willing spirit, being ready to leap off the cliff when the Holy Ghost says “jump”, and I feel like my trust is run over by a Mack truck (yes, possibly one driven my Mickey Mouse, but that’s another song).

The trouble being that in times like these, being a non-truster, I could use a little help, a bone, if you will. But I never seem to get one. Call me silly, but if I were teaching someone to trust, I’d use baby steps. A small trust is answered, and another, and another. Instead, I feel like I try to trust big and get…nothing.

Maybe I dream too big—that I will trust God and He’ll send me a miracle. And far be it from me to disallow such a thing. I thought we couldn’t dream too big for God, and yet I haven’t had a single dream of my life come true. And I try to keep my eyes open for answers in smaller, more subtle ways…and yet, too often I find nothing. Feels a lot like a hot, dry dessert in the middle of day and my water bottle has been empty since dawn.

I should also point out I have a lot of trouble trusting people—I could list for days the times when people broke trust with me: promised jobs, promised friendship, promised anything.

The difference is that once a person breaks my trust, it’s gone. It’s super difficult to get it back (it can be done, but we are talking decades to restore…and that’s come down from never). And since I am at least part mind, and that mind knows that God is good and that He has reason that I can’t begin to fathom, I keep trusting Him, even when I’m afraid it will turn out just like the last five hundred times when things never went forward, never resolved, never got better.

These are the times that I think Moses had it easy—God spoke to him with a loud, clear voice, He sent fire and miracles. I wish sometimes that God would deal with me the same way, because honestly, I could use a strong voice about now, a burning bush to set me straight, to show me the path and just tell me that I haven’t screwed things up so badly in life that it can’t be turned around. Yep, that would be nice.

Guess it’s good that when it comes to God I seem to be a hopeless truster…always willing to try again…