Vision

Confession time: I’m really bad at casting vision and setting goals. I don’t know if it’s the imposter syndrome or the fear of failure, but I don’t like to tell people where I am going. If someone else could just tell me what the end goal is, then I’ll make a plan. It will be a good plan with more details than are necessary and color-coded binders. But don’t ask me to determine the destination. I get overwhelmed and give up. And I never get anywhere.

I wonder if this isn’t why I’m sitting on my back porch in a new neighborhood with nothing practical to show for the past ten years of my life. I’ve written elsewhere about my grief over “wasting” my time in Radford. I know that it wasn’t really wasted because nothing in the Kingdom of God is a waste. What I mean is that, in terms of success in the world, it was all a waste. I have no wealth or career movement to show for all of that work. I cannot even say that I developed a “successful” program as the numbers fluctuated by the year and it no longer exists, thanks to my former boss. I know that I was doing what God wanted me to do, but I never took the time to think about how things could end for me in Radford. I never took the time to consider that I wouldn’t do that for the rest of my life. I never took the time to cast vision for myself. Honestly, to my shame, I just hoped that the right thing would come along and I’d go with it. This is how I have lived most of my life: prayerfully, obediently, but without setting clear direction.

There are some reasons for this directly related to my personality (see above), but there are also some theological reasons that I’ve failed to plan for my life. The most glaring is that, in my early twenties, when I was really taking ownership of my faith and stepping into my identity as an adult, I learned to be afraid of desire. Some lanes of Christianity (reformed, heavily Calvinist, to name my top two), put too much emphasis on the depraved nature of humanity. Of course, I believe that the world is not what it was intended to be. I haven’t met anyone, yet, who disagrees with me on that inside or outside of the church. Of course, human beings are responsible for the damage we’ve done, the lies we’ve told, and the people and nature that we’ve exploited. The Bible teaches that humans can’t really help this, either, being born messed up to begin with. BUT. And this is a really important “but”, the Bible also teaches that when God made the world, he called it “good”. Then, when he made people, he called them “very good”. Therefore, the original design of humanity was not evil, but good.

As I’ve said before, you can’t chop up the Bible into the parts that you like and the parts that you don’t. You have to take the whole thing or you can’t take it at all - that’s not a Christian idea, it’s simple logic and fits nicely with our all-or-nothing cancel culture. I take the whole Bible, so I take the inherent dignity and value of human beings with our inescapable proclivity for wickedness and evil. Tension is difficult for humanity to hold, so I understand why we tend to lean on one side or the other. Churches that lean heavily on the fallen nature of humanity do so because they rightly ascertain that, if we don’t uphold this doctrine, a lot of the point of Christianity falls apart. If people are good, then what exactly did they need saving from? If sin is not in the world and perpetuated by human beings, then why the heck did Jesus come to show us a better way? If we are so good, after all, why do we need a God to lead and guide us? I get it. The doctrine of depravity is important, but the way it’s handled is equally important.

In an effort to talk back to the bad ideas running rampant in our culture, pastors and teachers in evangelical churches teach the doctrine of depravity in such a way that leads people, especially young people, to believe that there’s nothing good about them and that everything they want, do, or say is tainted by sin. I don’t believe that the Bible teaches this. For one, if you have a relationship with Jesus, the Holy Spirit dwells in you and is constantly renewing everything about you. That doesn’t mean that all of your desires and impulses are suddenly holy, but it does mean that they are getting there and you can learn to trust your redeemed mind and hear the voice of God. Secondly, the phrase “total” depravity does not mean that you’re a total wreck and that there is nothing good in you. If it did, you would no longer bear the image of God. If you believe that the image of God is good, then there is good in you. Part of bearing God’s image is being designed in a specific way for his glory and the good of the world. This means that you have skills, talents, and personality features that he put in you on purpose. Would you call this handiwork of God anything but good? Thus, because God made you the way that he did on purpose and you bear his image out into the world, there is good in you. The phrase “total depravity” means that all these good things have been beat up, busted, marred, and impacted by sin. My mind has been impacted by sin. My emotions have been busted by sin. My body has been beat up by sin. My soul has been marred by sin. This is what it means to be “conceived in iniquity” (Psalm 51:5) and that “there is none righteous, not even one” (Romans 3:10). However, we would never call a person who has been harmed and harms others worthless, completely lacking in good, or irredeemable; at least, not in the Kingdom of God. So, why would we believe this about ourselves?

Intended or not, the message was delivered and received that there was nothing good in me and that I could not trust myself. Teaching on listening to and trusting the Holy Spirit was nonexistent because, in this lane of Christianity, they’re so afraid of getting it wrong that they never even try to begin with. This reveals not only a weak understanding of the Holy Spirit, but also a lack of belief in the extent of God’s grace.

So, I was scared of desire and I learned not to trust myself. I was paralyzed by getting things wrong and anything that I did try was like throwing spaghetti at the wall because, not only did I lack proper support and training, but I was also not taught how to get insight from the Holy Spirit. And I never cast any vision. I couldn’t handle the potential failure and shame that would come with getting it wrong. I couldn’t handle the rejection. The sad part was that the rejection was coming my way regardless because I’m “not a good fit” for the evangelical world. 

But, over the past few years and really in the last few months, I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that I have to learn to trust the Holy Spirit and part of learning how to do that is simply doing it and getting it wrong sometimes. I also have to believe that God is good and gracious enough not only to absorb and forgive my mistakes, but also to lead me right where I’m at, not where I should be. I used to ask friends of mine, “Do you seriously think that if your heart is set on pleasing God and doing what he wants you to do and you’ve sought wise council, searched the Scriptures, and prayed over your decisions that he’s going to just let you fall flat on your face with no warning?” He’s not cruel.

All that being said, I’ve been working on vision. For the first time publicly, I’d like to talk about what I’ve been working on. I’m finishing up a coaching certification program. It’s not specific to any kind of coaching, so I’ve gotten to think, plan, and dream about what kind of coach I’d like to be. For right now, I’m focusing on burnout, specifically in ministries. People who work for or volunteer in churches or ministries are literally always tired. I know because not only was I one, but I’ve talked to and lived life with many of you. And it’s not just those who are involved in church or ministry, I actually think that Christians in general are tired. Some of this, I will attribute to our culture of haste, busyness, and speed. This has certainly bled into the culture and theology of our churches, but I think there’s more at play and I think it’s related to the theological missteps that I discussed above. Burnout happens when you try to do too much and you don’t get the proper rest and refueling. This can be mentally, emotionally, physically, or spiritually. For the sake of argument, let’s take the cultural narrative out for a minute. Why would you run yourself ragged in a Christian church or ministry whether you work, volunteer, or participate in it? 

A few reasons come to mind. One, because that’s what everyone else is doing. Two, because that’s what you’ve been told and/or think it means to follow God. Three, you’re trying to earn something. I could go on, but I think that these cover the majority of folks experiencing this. Why? It’s a misunderstanding of grace and a shrinking of God’s character. We burnout when we try to control things that we can’t control (i.e. God). We burnout when we think that, once we’re in the door, we have to retroactively earn the sacrifice that Jesus made on the cross. We burnout when we think that this is just what following Jesus is all about because we’ve either ignored or never been taught what Shalom, Sabbath, and the Kingdom of God are really about. We burnout when we think the salvation or spiritual journeys of others are our responsibility, not God’s.

This is close to my heart and something that makes me angry when I see others experiencing it. The problems that I have had with the church and Christians are what motivates me to take the steps that I’m taking and boldly start to cast vision for my life, even if I’m afraid. Here’s what I’ve got so far.

Over the next several years, I’d like to build a coaching business that will accrue enough money to be my full time job. Once that happens, I’d like to work for myself not only in coaching, but in writing, podcasting, and teaching as well. Then, I hope to buy some land, put a bunch of tiny houses on it, and have a retreat center for burnt out Christians. I want to have gardening, hunting, art, and all sorts of slow, restorative, creative endeavors for people to come away to and rest. I’d love to offer retreats where I coach people through burnout and also open the center up for others to use it for those same purposes. 

I want to see a generation of ministry workers and volunteers begin to lead the way towards slowing down our spirituality and centering it back on Jesus, not what we know or what we do. I want to help heal and restore the damage that’s been done by bad theology and inept Bible teachers. I want to provide a safe, welcoming place where people can come and know that they are valuable and worthy because God says they are. Full stop. And I want to leverage all that I have and all that I am to start putting the world back together through rest and restoration.

That’s my vision. That’s my hope. And if you think you’re someone who would like to be on my team or could benefit from coaching of that sort, would you do me the honor of letting me know? I’ve got to practice and I’ve got to get started somewhere. I’d love the beginning of these labors to be helping my friends.

Thanks for being along for this part of the journey. I cannot wait to share with you as this vision takes shape and we see the world come alive with the whole and healed children of the living God.