One Step Up and Two Steps Back

One Step Up -- And Two Steps Back :

Progress is Perfection

“When I look at myself I don't see, The man I wanted to be. Somewhere along the line I slipped off track, I'm caught movin' one step up and two steps back”

The apostle Paul says, "let us rejoice in the hope of God’s glory, not ours. Additionally, we must also rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that our current hardship produces patient endurance. In endurance, proven character is developed, and in this character, hope and a confident assurance of our salvation results." This brings us back to God’s glory. It’s a holy progression.

To quote Springsteen: “When I look at myself, I don't see, the man I wanted to be. Somewhere along the line I slipped off track. I'm moving one step up and two steps back." Don’t we spend our whole lives trying to move up a notch? To "get ahead"?

Progress is measured in so many different ways, but our tendency is to focus always on the goal: the quota, the grade, the sale, the child, the bonus, the end-zone, the accomplishment. The question is whether we can adjust our internal "success-meter" to focus on the great amount of progress made in learning, growing, changing, and adjusting to the inevitable ups and downs of life; instead of comparing and despairing in the futile illusion of being perfect, or reaching the “Goal”. Truth is, progress is perfection.

Instead of calculating our net worth, or assessing our self-righteousness on a lofty standard, could it be possible that God blesses us with adversity, teaches us through hardship, and honors our work of survival and resiliency? In light of eternity, earthly triumphs do not seem so valuable, and seeking perfection becomes narcissistic. Are these truths passed down to our children, or do parents constantly strive to protect them? What seems natural could actually be holding them back.

Paul also wrote that God wants us to focus on spiritual matters and rejoice in our suffering; even though we spend a lifetime seeking comfort. God promises that anyone who does what pleases Him will live forever; but we say that money isn’t everything – it’s the only thing. Man seeks pleasure, while God gives wisdom (through adversity).

Spiritual currency can be spent throughout eternity, but our earthly bank accounts are devaluing quickly. If we are broken, dependent, obedient followers of Jesus, our trials are heavenly blessings, because they cause us to draw near to Him. A christian must value Christ's sacrifice, and God's word more than their own timetable of priorities, but this is difficult. 

Otherwise, our comfort, wealth, and ease of living pushes us away from a Godly life, into a habit of choosing things, or following people outside of God’s will. It’s counter-intuitive but clearly biblical, that we are most fulfilled when we empty ourselves. (see Philippians 3: 7-8, and Mark 9:35)

God wants us close to him, in a relationship. Sometimes he uses discipline to open our eyes, recognize our weakness, and turn to Him for help. We can be following the wrong leaders, or accepting a counterfeit agenda as we navigate through our lives, so what do we do? It's one-step-at-a-time: first recognize the need, then accept the solution which is outside of ourselves, and then take up the vision (cross) of God, and follow.

We think He approaches with a warrant for our arrest, but God is serving us with an invitation to a massive party, celebrating His glory alone and not the world. Accepting this also requires we re-focus, re-calibrate, re-define progress, and re-frame setbacks as opportunities. ##

Blog post ©Mark H. Pillsbury

Open Letter to the Class of 1983

See you in September

I can’t decide whether I'm more excited about college football starting again, or the few weeks until my 30^th high school reunion. Thoughts go back to those years when your age seemed frozen and the future appeared far off in the distance; the way you feel when you have plenty of time before a flight, checked-in and ready—no pressure, no hurry.  We were comfortable back in the 70s & 80s.

My class graduated in late May 1983, and although we had no idea about Madonna when her album debuted that summer, we launched out from there; lives moving rapidly from one stage to the next, unevenly aligned with decades, but furiously reaching one road sign after the next. Most of us went off to college, many stayed in Texas, some even settled in Big D to raise their families. Won't a few of you from faraway lands come to this reunion?! It would be fun to guess who comes from farthest away. London, Hawaii, Australia?

How can we be at the third reunion? Each celebration so far has been unique in its theme:

• 10^th was just another big party like many of the weddings I attended; pretty nervous walking up to Winfrey Point clubhouse, I pondered why I hadn't given the concept much thought?
• 20^th was the “Vice-President Reunion,” as everyone climbed the ladder of success rapidly and came ready to show off their progress. (How could everyone in the room be a Vice-President?). I thought it a fairly insincere bridge from the early reunion to the upcoming milestone of 2013.

My impression is that with this class reunion, all who attend will feel lucky to be there, and everyone by this time has taken some lumps:  suffered through some bout of death, divorce, disease, disaster, and/or depression. It will be something from which we did not overcome with the same pride and fervor thought to have come so easily at our 20^th anniversary.

"That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond." From Ann Voskamp’s quote there is encouragement to seek conversations and renew relationships in a sincere, transparent way; allowing friends to see through the thin, torn patches in one's personal tapestry, for they are the passages by which one sees the real insides of my being, and hopefully the beautiful light of God beaming through them.

I believe this time the grace of a group approaching their 50s outstrips our natural tendency to fudge, judge, or peacock in front of our classmates. This platform of life takes time and skill to climb onto; and so we welcome our friends to a wonderful point in which the pretense of success, status, and class, pale in comparison to the love and joy we will experience as we share each other’s foibles, struggles, and humility.

At first it will be difficult to peel the layers of the onion back; we’ll fall back to the natural, “I’m great, the kids are super; Yes, I do have it all put together just as it seems.” However, as we break through to authenticity, it's fortunate that we really made it here at all, considering what has happened; at this point there is hope for a renewed camaraderie among humble old friends. This reunion presents a rare opportunity to re-connect, review, and even de-construct some of the "archetypes" manifested in previous meetings. But how many of the graduates have the courage to show up and tell their (real) story?

My story certainly has some twists and turns too strange for fiction, and I know that your story will take my breath away at some point during its telling. It’s been such a long time since we thought of each other, but thankfully there’s still so much we have in common. There are strong mysterious links which enchain the heart to the regions where the morn of life was spent.

With all due respect to the writing of Gail Godwin in her novel The Finishing School, I am expecting to meet two kinds of people at my 30^th high school reunion:

“One kind, you can tell just by looking at them at what point they congealed into their final selves.

It might be a very nice self, but you know you can expect no more surprises from it.” These people are doing just fine with themselves and I say, “more power to ‘ya,” or to be perfectly frank, and to use the phrase so enthusiastically used in the South when we just don’t quite know what to think: “well, bless your heart?!”

Godwin’s character Ursula continues, “Whereas, the other kind keeps moving, changing. With these people, you can never say, “X stops here,” or “Now I know all there is to know about Y.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re unstable. Ah, no, far from it. They are fluid. They keep moving forward and making new trysts with life, and the motion of it keeps them young.”

“In my opinion,” Ursula says, “They are the only people who are still alive.”

One unambiguous characteristic of this second group of people will surely be that they seize life with gusto. Contrary to the self-doubt that creeps into my mind sometimes when I think of the ups and downs of my career path; at least I had the courage to change, when the time to change was apparent. I will likely gravitate to and appreciate those who took on life’s challenges with passion, and I look forward to reliving some of my friends’ most perilous moments. 

To quote Jack London’s credo as told by a reporter named Ernest Hopkins:

“I would rather be ashes than dust!

 I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.

 I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.

 The function of man is to live, not to exist.

 I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.

 I shall use my time.”

For those of us who make it back to HP in September, may that credo be the cry of the class of 1983.

©Mark H. Pillsbury

Didn't We Almost Have It All, by Whitney Houston

Didn't We Almost Have It All

“Every last one, Patrice!”

“I can’t have grey hair and sing on the Grammys®,” she said vainly.

The pungent scent of alcohol filled the air around the stylist chair, but Patrice worked on Shelby even though disgusted with her. Sometimes Shelby would rummage around in her over-sized drawstring hobo purse, extracting various bottles of potent medications such as Valium and Xanax, popping them like vitamins.

Watching the precipitous slide into destruction was sad, but how often does a hairdresser get to work on “The Voice?” It had been ten years now; she would call and come down with her dwindling entourage to this crumbling L.A. neighborhood which strangely reflected Shelby Austin; it too had seen better days.

“Girl, I don’t know how I am going to sing on Sunday night,” Shelby said. “I'm not the force I used to be, getting old is such a bitch!” “Do what you gotta do, Patrice; and so will I?!” Ironically, Patrice assumed what she meant was they both relied on chemicals to disguise the truth about this superstar.

Shelby followed fame’s path where it inevitably leads when you become what you worship. Worldly things she pursued were not to blame, not even her former husband Gerri Green, who turned her onto the lifestyle that had ravaged her talent and beauty. Shelby’s demise was her own fault. It was a heart issue, and Shelby had done it to herself. When you gaze in awe, admiration, and wonder at something, or someone, you begin to take on something of the character of the object of your worship. (N. T. Wright)

In her heart, the idols ultimately disappointed her, and far from being obedient to the God of her youth, she clung to youth itself, as Patrice knew firsthand.

Past glory could not hold the weight of Shelby’s expectations. Her pursuit of the way it used to be: the look, the voice, the man, the parties, the fame, all that went with selling 200 million records; she was sure that the outcome would have, should have, been different than it turned out to be.

She was a celebrity of the highest order with all the accoutrements, and an equal amount of delusion. Shelby made lifestyle choices, formed alliances with people, and exploited connections which did not work out best for her career. At the same time her production did not keep up with her expenses, and the harsh reality was that she was so broke she would have to save up to be poor. Patrice only took cash.

The facts were clear, she was “washed-up” and wrung out; Shelby Austin was a shell of her former self, which was one of the biggest pop icons that the 80s and 90s ever produced.

Now, an addict, a burden, bitter about her divorce, her descent, and subconsciously bitter about her dereliction of the greatest singing talent that God ever gave to a woman born in the 1960s, Shelby was suffering. However, real suffering is not the same as sadness over lost expectations. Shelby was a victim of many things, but most of all she was a victim of her own attempts to cure herself of lost youth.

“Those who worship money become, eventually, human calculating machines,” said N. T Wright, “Those who worship power become more ruthless.” Ultimately, starlets who worship their younger success become zombies walking through a drugged reenactment of yesteryear. Anna-Nicole Smith had none of the talent of Shelby Austin, Amy Winehouse was a good singer but not like Shelby was good, and Heath Ledger was a pretty-boy but not as beautiful. She had it all, and when her music came on, people got up to dance.

Patrice did the best she could.

©Mark H. Pillsbury
[part I of a fictional series]

Ultimate Texans » Photos: Texans fever

Ultimate Texans » Photos: Texans fever:

'via Blog this'

After ten years in this city, the Texan franchise has finally reached the high plateau of the NFL meritocracy, The Playoffs.

Like a contagious disease, Houston's citizens caught fan fever this week, and across the 4th largest city in the US, today they suffer from Texanitis.

As the sun broke over clear blue skies this morning and Houstonians got out to youth games, the grocery store, or the local coffee shop, all the talk was about the game this afternoon at Reliant Stadium, in the shadow of the old AstroDome. Fittingly, the new breed of professional football players see the shrine to the Oilers right next door, the 8th wonder of the world: the AstroDome. The creepy, dark, out-dated, concrete monolith to the past; where the last Houston playoff victory took place over 20 years ago.

There is nothing like the football euphoria of the playoffs. In a town that prides itself in entrepreneurial grit, civic pride, teamwork, courage, and success--which has largely eluded the city on the gridiron since the Texans started ten years ago; this football team overcame years of under-achieving and the hardship of a roller-coaster season to land its first NFL party since Super Bowl XXXVIII was played in Reliant Stadium in February of 2004.

Predictions are bold. Chips and salsa are flying off the shelves. Only the lucky and the patient are actually going to the game. Traffic around my neighborhood will be terrible this afternoon. But the city is buoyant with excitement. Being a life-long Dallas Cowboy fan spoiled me, but not anymore! The Cowboys are no shoe-in, having one playoff win in the last 15 years. Since I arrived in Houston the fall the Texans started, I have followed them closely every year and could not be any happier to see them succeed. Like any of the millions of Houston transplants who want our team to do well, I'm riding high today, waiting for kickoff.

used with permission: ©K. Woolet 

It should be a low-scoring affair, and with our 3rd QB starting the game, the Texans will have to rely on the Defense (led by the last Cowboy coach Wade Phillips). Turnovers usually change momentum, so look for that to be the pivot-point.

The buzz in the city today is red-hot (Battle Red), the fever is true-blue (Liberty Blue), and for one bright shiny day in Houston, we are all Texans!

©Mark H. Pillsbury

Listen to this sermon at www.christtheking.com (Aug. 7, 2011)

Christ The King Presbyterian Church in Houston, Texas
Click on the hyperlink above to the front page of CTK website: you can listen to the most recent sermon:

Rev. Eric Priest's sermon on Psalm 10 this Sunday August 7, 2011 talks about the idea that we tend to judge life by success: the point of life is to get ahead and then stay ahead! Eric discusses Psalm 10 in light of 3 types of atheism, which was a fascinating way to see modern worldviews. It made me think of a couple of things I read recently:

“In a world where success is the measure and justification of all things, the figure of Him who was sentenced and crucified remains a stranger and is at best the object of pity. The world will allow itself to be subdued only by success. It is not the ideas or opinions which decide, but deeds. Success alone justifies wrongs done… with a frankness and offhandedness which no other earthly power could permit itself, history appeals in its own cause to the dictum that the end justifies the means… The figure of the Crucified invalidates all thought which takes success as a standard.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Ethics (published 1955)

“In direct contradiction to the American Dream, God actually delights in exalting our inability. He intentionally puts his people in situations where they come face-to-face with their need for Him. In the process he powerfully demonstrates his ability to provide everything his people need in ways they could never have mustered up or imagined. And in the end, He makes much of his own name.” David Platt's Radical (Random House 2010). (thoughts on 2 Cor. 12: 9-10)

How do you feel about your weakness, and what is your Achilles heel? On his blog, Rick Warren recently talked about what Adam and Eve did to hide from God and said additionally, "what is your fig leaf?"