A Life Worth Breathing

Matt Brown’s blog

Scroll to read! Pretty basic. Hope you enjoy.

  • Constipation Station

    Constipation Station

    Not often enough I find myself thinking forward. Ironically, almost everything that I love in this life requires specificity. Of course, all aspects of live require anticipation, planning, and looking ahead. I unintentionally, but most accurately, wrote the word thinking instead of looking.

    Even at this very moment I can sit at a local coffee shop – flexing quite literally the only hipster qualities in my body – I can turn my head to the left and see forward. In about two hours, I will quiet literally be driving down the road that is within my vision. I can see it, I can even watch other vehicles take the exact same route. I can see the yield sign on the round abound (shoutout to one of the greatest TV commercials out there #darthvaderroundabound) and the variety of vehicles failing to communicate effectively as they entire the cycle of repetition.

    Momentary break from this to offer your daily dose of fun adventure ideas: If you’re someone who loves chaos, doesn’t like offering up too much risk in your adventures, and enjoy throwing a monkey wrench into the mundane life of the observers around you – get yourself a car. Find a round-about. And just drive. In circles. For as long, as, you, want. There’s literally no rules to going around the full circle. It offers the thrill of breaking a thousand rules, and yet you break none. A level up from this is including a passenger in your vehicle without briefing them of your intentions. The mixture of fear and laughter that they will express is invigorating.

    Back to our regular programming.

    I can look forward without thinking forward. We all do. I’ve got tests tomorrow. I’ve got a business interview tomorrow. I’m making a sale this afternoon. Someone I love is hurting and I don’t know what’s next for them.

    Looking forward is not a negative thing. Let me start with that reminder. Observing the world and seeing what is to come, as an isolated act, is not a harmful thing to do or practice.

    I’ll pull from my own life to clarify my point here. College graduation and the aftermath: After four years of undergrad, I found myself in March of 2018. No goals, no job to look ahead to, no place to live besides my parents, and no plan on what I wanted to do next. In the eyes of those with aged wisdom I was going to fail. (Spoiler: I did, just not as soon as these predictive minds would have guessed). I was looking ahead. I knew graduation was coming. I knew I wanted to move back home. And I knew, at the moment, that I didn’t have something lined up. I wasn’t oblivious to my situation. I could see what was going on around me, and a little while down the path.

    As a Christian, I also believe that our faith gives us an element of looking forward when there is nothing to see. It is a difficult claim to make, because I do not consider spiritual aspects of our life to be definable by physical. Hebrews 11 describes faith as being sure of what we hope for certain of what we do not see. So does faith really allow us to see ahead, or does it offer us foundational hope when we cannot see? Does it give us a tangible sight into what’s ahead in our life, or does it simply give us encouragement and humility when what lies ahead is looming quicker than we’d like?

    Ponder this. What does your faith offer you in terms of forward thoughts? Do you actually get to see what lies ahead? Or is there power behind the part of faith that asks to believe without being able to look?

    Momentary break from the deep pondering to offer some clarity. If you know me at all, you know that at times I will remember a moment in my life, a time with friends, an inside joke, or a scene from a favorite movie, and break a smile. For most people, the moments in life that I recall seem oddly recollected and is often followed with “what made you think of that?” I couldn’t tell you. But, I will say, I do enjoy having memories pop up at the most unexpected moments. It’s almost like having an old friend following me along, frequently intervening on my own little world, interrupting my life with a gentle “hey, you remember this time when…” and laughing with me as we recall it. Quite a time.

    To answer the following question, a moment from the first guardians of the galaxy movie flashes through my mind. It’s near the end of the movie – maybe even the end credits (and heck, it may even be the second film): Peter Quill is leading the guardians to their next adventure, they decide to be heroes or ravagers. And they determine – “bit of both”. If you know the scene, you know the music plays, the Milano flies off into the galaxy, and the credits roll. It was exciting, and left you wondering what was next for them, and it also perfectly embodied the character who was saying the line, Starlord. Fantastic ending to a film.

    So, going back quickly to theology, I often visualize Starlord when people ask me hard questions. I’m not exaggerating – I can be in a deep conversation with someone on hard topics or theological standpoints and my mind goes to – “bit of both”.

    There’s usefulness in that answer. Here’s why: Faith does offer an ability to see things that others cannot. We have the Holy Spirit inside of us! There are moments in life where we all we see is darkness with our own eyes. Our physical bodies are quite literally incapable of seeing heavenly works without the hand of God. Faith is humbling. It allows you to truly dive into your own failure and see it all. Ephesians 2 & 4 tells us the truth that those without the spirit are unaware of the sin the have in their life. And, as young believers, Peter writes the church telling us that new believers are like babies. And, if you’ve never interacted with a baby, you wouldn’t know this – but, babies are not perfect. However, they have no way of knowing all of the mistakes that they make. And toddlers, well. They actually believe they are perfect. So. Being a believer doesn’t give us sight to see everything in our life that is full of sin, but it does open them. We can see.

    I knew, in march of 2018, that I was headed towards failure. I had nothing setup. I took job interviews, applied different places, and decided that my best option was to move home and work for my church – for the fourth summer in a row. It was then, during this summer, that God showed me what was next for me. And I could see.

    Faith lets us see more than we might be able to see if we are blinded to ourselves and the hand that guides all of creation. An unbeliever can see the world around them, but by definition they are blinded. Scripture tells us that pharaoh was blinded to God’s work so that he wouldn’t submit to the Lord and believe in him. So, the reverse is true. If the entire world could see everything around them, they would not help but see God. And in God’s divinity, he has chosen who can see, who is still learning to use their new perspective, and who cannot. So, yes, faith does help us look.

    But, don’t be pompous. Looking is not thinking.

    Back to Hebrews 11.

    I believe we can have faith without living in it. Verse 6 tells us the truth that God can be pleased by what we do in faith. He is not simply pleased that we have it – although I cannot imagine the greatness of which He rejoices in His children joining His family – he is pleased in how we use his strength to work through our life.

    Those spoke of in Hebrews 11 chose to take hold of their faith and act on it. Simply put, your eyes don’t make you walk. Your body does.

    I don’t think forward enough. I can see plenty fine. Often times, I see too much with physical eyes and not enough with my spiritual ones. But even when I do see spiritual truth and God’s light, I don’t think of it. I experience His love on Sunday, I feel his grace on a Friday night, and I feel the love of His community every day. It’s quite literally ALL around me.

    But I don’t think of it. I don’t pause, soak in all that I am feeling, and juggling it in my mind. I don’t take an idea, grasp the fullness of all that I can comprehend, and wonder in its value. It’s almost like the experience of a morning coffee. I wake up, realize I need it, down some coffee, am grateful for what it does for me, I have the worst poop ever, and then I move on. In, out, next. By God’s grace his power is not a morning coffee. Add some constipation and we’re getting to the truth. I can try all I want to push it out, but sometimes even in my own desire I can’t push Him out of my life. I hope somewhere the Holy Spirit is slightly smirking at this comparison.

    I need to think on it. Much like caffeine, we can numb ourselves to the effect of the spirit in our life. We feel it, we use it, and we move on. In God’s grace, He has given me freedom to not pursue Him. He doesn’t leave me, but I choose to forget that He is there. There is power in the name of Jesus. There is a significance to what we can see through the Spirit. There is joy, humility, and power in understanding that we are held by the creator of the universe, and a Father who loves us intimately.

    Reflecting on why, I think back to riding the Metro throughout DC in high school and college. It’s truly something. Flying through the suburbs of downtown beneath the chaos of the sidewalk. You know whats happening. I mean you have to realize as an adult that you’re in a train, flying through tunnels, sometimes above the city on bridges, and that you are mostly safe. And if you look out the window, you can try to see whats going on around you, but its darn near impossible. The walls are flying so fast by your window that the lights on the tunnel almost appear as a straight line.

    And yes, I am tying this in with our life. Right now, my bubble is filled with fast paced chaos.

    We tell ourselves its organized. And yet, if we were to actually slow down and see how fast we were going. If we were to get a chance to actually think about what’s going on around us, who is holding us together, and what our Father is asking from us, we may realize that the speed we were going was all together too fast. But yet, in God’s grace, He is here with us. And, unlike the lights in the metro station, he makes himself visible. That, to me, is a mystery.

    In closing, I’ll say it for the umpteenth time (okay, wait. Microsoft word autocorrected my MISSPELLING of umpteenth? Is that an actual word? I’m shook to my core). I don’t pause, slow down, and let myself think about what is around me. He is everywhere, in everything, and here I am – focusing on what He has given and not the wonder of His character. A reminder, reader, to slow down, take a moment, go for a walk, breathe, and think about what you can see, what you’ve been shown, and the truth that is visible in His word.

    Until next time.

  • Buckets, I’ll drive.

    It’s been a while since I’ve written my last post. Also, hey new readers. If you’re new to my blog, go check out the other posts! I’ll warn you – some of them get pretty personal. So if vulnerability isn’t really your thing, totally get it. Something about having a lot going on at once around me makes it hard to sit down and write my thoughts. And I regret that – because I know I do have a skill here, and I have a voice that will help lift others up. That being said, I hope these thoughts give you a sense of rest and belonging here in a world that is spinning, and yet begs us to stand still. 

    Another note on my writing – I don’t really edit it a ton. I really like the feeling of writing something down raw and sticking with it. So keep that in mind, you clowns.

    If you haven’t read my posts before – let me tell you a little secret. Some of my words, my writing style, and my thoughts are intentionally ambiguous. They provide you space to find their meaning, and in some way I hope that they show you a part of yourself that you are not yet fully aware of. I hope that by looking into my life, you can see pieces of yours that are hard to walk down. I know I’m only like 24 or whatever, but I like to think my life is still worth learning from. Ha. ha. 

    Oh and.. uh. The title. It literally has nothing to do with this article – sometimes I just like putting inside jokes in my material so that I can enjoy a good laugh and relieve some of that enjoyable tension. You know me – always making jokes that only half the people understand.

    Ok. 

    Let’s do this. Time to dig in. Grab a cup of coffee, turn on your favorite slow songs, and let’s do this. I recommend Juniper Vale, but hey – you do you. 

    Last weekend, I found myself helping a new friend of mine with her painting business – which meant organizing, cleaning, and thinking through how best to use the tools that she had collected over the years. As we got to a stand still in the work – my eyes drifted to the pile of fifteen buckets – all used, dirty, some stuck together through the months of paint drying and forging them together. These weren’t just any buckets either – we’re talking the home depot, orange, bad boy, ten gallon buckets. Big deals.

    As I took out the first bucket from the pile, I was almost discouraged at the amount of paint that had dried to the inside. In my mind – the job wasn’t finished until every spec of paint was out of the bucket, and it was left perfectly clean. A lofty goal, but it felt as if it was needed. Work done half-way is no work at all. Or something.

    The paint doesn’t come off. I mean, I’m scrubbing, chipping, spraying it with water, everything. I get most of the loose paint flakes off, but there is still SO much to clean. If you know me well, you’d know that in the midst of this struggle, the great C.S. Lewis story of Aslan and Eustace Scrubb came to mind – a story for another time. Just ask me about it, I tell it every other day so I’m more than happy to tell it twice. But I couldn’t help but think – if I don’t get this bucket clean… will it be thrown out? And, even worse, to paraphrase Bucky (so tempted to make a pun here) Barnes – if this bucket has no worth, what about my own worth? Of course, these are fleeting thoughts… 

    “Do I need to clean all of the buckets? Like this one.. It’s not quite done, but I got the flakes off…”

    I guess they weren’t that fleeting.

    And, of course, the answer was simple and encouraging. “Yeah, the stuff we can’t clean – we will use for sorting and storing supplies.”

    Ok ok. So… let’s go back in my head for a bit. 

    So if I can’t get the bucket clean, and it gets thrown away the lies I believed were this  – that it is a waste of time, a sign that I can’t do the work or I’m not willing to finish the work, and that if somehow this bucket resembles me… will God just throw me away? 

    If I fail enough, won’t He get tired of scrubbing off the dry paint? 

    Or even worse.

    Have I already been thrown away, and I’m recklessly trying to live a life that is already doomed to fail? Has He already found someone else to fill the role He had wanted for me?

    And yes, this is where my head goes. Frequently. It’s funny your average tasks can spark the darkest and most insightful thoughts and fears. Funny isn’t it – how God doesn’t meet us in the high places, but in the mundane and average parts of our life are where Christ loves to meet us.

    Alright, back to the buckets. Three buckets down, I’ve learned to quickly assess if a bucket is worth spending time on. Because – and get this – I’m a human, and I don’t have all the time in the world, and I can’t do miracles. So the bucket that I can’t scrape paint off of – isn’t getting paint scraped out of it. I’m no lion. Oh and keep in mind – that bucket is still useful, even if it’s not squeaky clean.

    Then the fourth bucket hits. I mean this thing is covered in grime, what looks to be paint, and dirt. I mean it’s just filthy. I start off the same way I had for the other buckets, and for whatever reason, it cleans. Like. Easily. Within five minutes, it’s sparkling clean. I mean, I’d literally eat CTC out of that thing. 

    It felt like a win. Like – finally, my work is doing something! Let’s go! We have a bucket that we can actually use for mixing fresh paint, or whatever we need! It’s clean!

    In some weird way, I was almost proud of the bucket for being one that was easy to clean. You know, like when you’re carrying that .23 KD teammate to a verdansk victory, and you’re proud of them when all they did was gas you up and tell you about their weekend plans. I mean it’s really your dub, but it’s not.

    As I cleaned the rest of the buckets, my shoes were soaked and my clothes were covered in paint scraps. Like – shoes are ruined, no shot I wear them out anywhere. What else is new.

    And this is where it hit me.

    Every bucket is worth putting work into, because we can’t tell from the start if it’s one that will clean easily, or take ten years to wash clean. It’s until we really genuinely start the work that we know if it’s worth us doing the time. And if you don’t have a power washer at hand, it ain’t your job to wash that puppy. And that’s okay. 

    Those buckets are us. Some of us have been through shit. Oh yeah and in case you need to hear this – it’s not the bucket’s fault that it’s hard to clean. And there’s someone out there who loves the journey and work of cleaning every little speck of dirt – even when you, your family, your partner, your loved ones, your therapist.. Even when they get tired of the dirt. He doesn’t. And He never will. 

    A bit of a warning – the last half of this post is a bit.. Poetic. I got in my feels and just started typing. I do apologize if it’s a little hard to follow along. You get the idea.

    “So next time you come across someone who’s scared, hurting, and covered in dust – take a look at yourself first and remember your rust. Remember that the life you have lived took more than your life to live it. Take a second and believe that that person in front of you is in the middle of it. Remember the pain you felt when those wounds you tried to heal healed over just to be ripped apart – remember the Lord who has told each of you that He is ready to be the center of your heart. To care, to love, to heal, to clean – these are the things that we have been offered as His redeemed. 

    He doesn’t see a bucket, He sees His child. He doesn’t see the paint – He sees the harm. He wants to help you, and it takes time.

    So next time you look in the mirror, and assume your worth…

    Put the gloves on, do the work. Take rest in being His beloved, and rest in the fact that it’s not your job to clean every little spec, every little mark. But let that encouragement push you on, because the battle isn’t over, but it’s won. 

    Next time, Matt, you see cleaning that needs to be done – whether in a mirror, in another, or in someone that’s gone – remember, remember, remember – don’t let it define you, don’t let it cause fear.”

    Let me end with this.

    I don’t know what each of you is going through right now – we all have something. In our life, in another’s, or in the life of someone we loved that we were forced to leave behind. 

    I know for myself, that every day I face the challenge of picking what to believe about myself: will I assume I’m a bucket that is well past it’s time, or put in the work in the trust that I will someday, somehow, be worthwhile in the way that I hope to be.

    Here’s my encouragement, and it may not feel like one. 

    That battle is never going to stop. The moment you believe you’re enough in yourself is the moment you’ve lost. And for me, the moment I know I’ve won – is when I look in the face of my Father above and he smiles and says, “well done”. There is no other ending for me – no other drive. There is no way I live in this world if in anything else I take pride. I will never be enough to find strength in myself, that’s why in Him I trust. In Him only can true value and worth be found. You can try, and you will fail. He is the only one that will love you, heal you, and carry you to rest. 

    Oh yeah, and I almost forgot to add. God has this cool characteristic where he can delight in you, in every little thing, without shaming you, hurting you, or demanding that you change before he delights. Pretty cool, right? 

    I’m almost mad that that rhymed. Like what is this, Dr. Seuss? Goodness gracious. Should I delete it? meh. I’ll leave it for a good laugh. Tension, and all that.

    Aight. That’s all for now. 

    Tootles.

    As always – reach out if you need to talk, want to ask questions, or are deeply frustrated or challenged by something I wrote. Celebrate the small things in life. Like, I don’t know, JB finally eating a bagel. Peace peace and GGs. 

  • Sincerely, A Gamer

    An Open Letter to the Questioning Thoughts of Those Who Aren’t

    I was sitting in the back seat of a four door. It had been a long week, and an even longer weekend. Its important to note that the kind of long we are talking about is not the kind where you are left feeling like you never want to think about that time again. No, it was the kind of long that held so memories you wonder how two days could be so full of every emotion. It was the kind of weekend that gave me memories to hold on to while also taking me back to memories that I had forgotten. The beautiful kind of a long weekend. 

    After moments like these, moments where I can let go of a memory and know that someday I will find it again, I have peace. I have that peace because I know that letting go of how sweet a moment was is just the beginning of experiencing that moment in its fullness. As Judah & the Lion once said, “the best is yet to come.” And in some weird way, I believe the best to come in the present includes the sweet and bitter memories and all that’s in between. 

    So there I was, in the bittersweet moment of letting go of a present feeling and knowing that it won’t be the last time I feel this moment. I hope in some way you can understand what I mean. 

    Back to the backseat. 

    I don’t remember the conversation, I honestly don’t remember much but one line that stung. And much like the rest of that weekend, it stung a little different than the normal sting. Because what was said was not a shot at me, or what I care about, or what I had done – it was a shot about people I love, moments I love, memories I will forever cherish, and a place that I know has given life to lives that were desperately close to falling into an unrecoverable place. 

    It was a simple sentence, but one I will never forget. 

    “You know, those relationships you have while you’re gaming, they aren’t… real.”

    I’ll let that one sink in for a second for those of you that are gamers or intimately care about anyone who is. It wasn’t, “be careful about the relationships you have”, or even “how do you feel about the people you’ve met through gaming?” It was just… they. Aren’t. Real. 

    Ok. so my first response is one hundred percent to just tear that statement to shreds and explain why it’s so false and so absolutely harmful. In so many ways! But that doesn’t really help any of us, because it doesn’t get at the real problem with that statement – the fact that it comes from somewhere. 

    I can’t completely blame the person who made that statement – because I do understand where they are coming from, and I – unfortunately – have heard every angle of that opinion and read countless statistics that seem to apply to said opinions. In some moments I’ve even held these beliefs.

    That being said, I can very happily blame the worldview and perspective that allows those opinions to go unscathed. 

    So, what is all that based in? I would argue the past. I mean just look at how the stereotype for gamers has been built. Think about it for a moment – if you were alive before 2010, or have seen any pictures of renditions of video games in that time – you know a little bit of what I mean. Here are a few words that might be racing through your brain – soda, chips, dark, basement, moms house, overweight, unhealthy, addicted, catfish, waste, useless… the list goes on, and on, and on. 

    If I’m being completely honest with myself, and with you – I get it. I have had moments in my life where the things that I love have fallen short to take care of me, and if I don’t keep them in check they become the very thing that is close enough to my heart to destroy it. I’m painting with a broad stroke here intentionally – and I hope you anticipated that. 

    Every part of life, if we love it too much – if that is even love – will eat us alive. Sometimes slowly, and sometimes in a blink of an eye. 

    “Did you hear about that guy who DIED playing video games?”

    Yeah. Did you hear about that guy who died while he was pooping? 

    The number one rule about preventing damage or harm – in a hobby, lifestyle, or really anything at all – is to help people acknowledge the good in whatever it is and give them the tools to effectively manage the negative. There are parts of life that you can argue need to be completely removed to avoid harm, but you have to be completely naive to throw video games into that category. 

    At this day in age, I think its very safe to say that there isn’t anyone standing on that soap box, just ripping PS5’s out of teens hands in the name of safety. And to be clear, I don’t think my friend driving the car was attempting to take this stand. What I do think, however, is that the statement that he made was made from an unchecked place of allowing this old stereotype and ideology to impact his opinion on something he has never experienced at the level that he was making a broad statement about. In other words, he was biased, uneducated, and casually disruptive with his words. 

    In the moment, I wasn’t really sure what to say. Honestly, I was a little afraid to speak up. Maybe in part because I’m jaded against all the times where I have heard this narrative, and I am tired of speaking up and sharing my own story about it. And maybe in part because I knew I would be opening up my life to an unneeded lecture. If I wanted a lecture, I’d have my parents pay another $45,000 for overpriced cafeteria poops. Maybe I should change this blog title to something about poop. 

    Mostly joking – I do enjoy lectures because it helps me learn, but I do not enjoy them when they are unempathetic, undereducated, opinionated, and negatively charged to a subject that is near and dear to me. 

    For those of you who need to hear it – video games, video game communities, friends that you make – wisely of course – through online relationships and communities… they are more than “the guys” you hang out with after work at the local pub. They aren’t just “the dude that’s always here on Tuesday”. 

    Let me tell you what. 

    When I was a freshman in highschool, I was playing the LEGENDARY Call of Duty… Modern Warfare Dos. 

    Its just Modern Warfare 2, but I needed some writing humor for the weight of this blog so far. YUH. 

    While playing this game, my parents allowed me to play online games with – *gasp* – strangers. Don’t worry, my parents do love me. I wasn’t neglected. 

    I was given boundaries, my parents asked me about my games, and until I was age appropriate I was not given a microphone. In one of these famed matches, I ran across this kid who was close to my age. What a clown.

    11 years later, I am still close friends with that teammate. For years throughout highschool, he was my safe place. When I had emotions I didn’t even know I had, let alone knowing how to process them, I would get on and play games with him. When life got tough and all I knew how to express in my life was outward anger and inward depression, he was someone I could talk to until 3am, no questions asked. When all I wanted in life was a place where my brain wasn’t constantly questioning myself and doubting my every move, I had that friendship.  When I felt alone, I wasn’t. 

    Later on in our friendship, I learned that only months before we played our first game together, he had lost both of us parents. He had moved to a completely new state across the country. He was going to a new school. And all he had to listen to and talk with was woodsntrails. Me.  

    Okay maybe that last part is a little exaggerated… I know he had other supports. But for a while, playing Call of Duty was a mutual escape from pain for both of us. A needed escape for healing. 

    Now let me clarify on what I don’t want you to hear. Not every relationship online is going to be healthy, and parents should be invested on learning about those friendships just as much as they should be invested on hearing about their classmate Joe from English 2. In many ways, I think I got blessed/lucky with finding Miguel. 

    But the good stories of health, healing, and community don’t stop there. And I could on, and on, and on, and maybe even on, about how I have seen the presence of a safe place online change the lives of teens, adults, grandparents (okay maybe not), and families around my world. 

    It’s interesting I bring up the world, because games that you play online actually make the world bigger. Surprise. 

    It gives you a window into others’ worlds that you wouldn’t have otherwise. It gives you different worldviews. It gives you a better idea of how different people handle stress.

    As a wise man once said. 

    “Just lay down, reload, and play the game, dude.”

    Sorry… misquote. 

    “JUST LAY DOWN, RELOAD, AND PLAY THE GAME DUDE”

    Quote belongs to some random guy that totally doesn’t rhyme with woodsntrails.

    There is more here that could be said, there is always more that can be shared – there are negative stories, there are horror stories, and there are neutral ones. Video games can be a waste of time, they can be an addiction, and the can ruin peoples lives. 

    So can literally – *breathes* – everything. Else. You. Will. ever. Do. In. Your. Life. 

    Health, intimacy, intentionality, healthy relationships, exercise, focus, mental health, time management – all of these things can grow in ANY hobby you choose – as long as you are properly educated, have the proper support, feel loved, understood and heard… and you enjoy what you are doing. Or at least, enjoy a part of it. 

    Come at me bro. 

    Sincerely, 

    Woodsntrails. 

    P.S. I would LOVE to talk with you one on one about these issues and all thoughts if you disagree, agree, want to share a story that means a lot to you, or what have you. Firm believer that having conversations is the best way to get the results listed above. Love all of you. Peace peace. 

  • Religion and Mental Health – Starting the Conversation

    She was born to a nobody. In many ways, she was a nobody. Her home had been ripped apart by war and chaos – wreckage from war vessels filled her town, a constant reminder of pain and death. Her parents had left when she was too young to remember them. She dealt with anger – as anyone would in her situation. She knew it was an issue, but also was able to find peace in the routine of life. She was a scavenger – she survived by selling off mechanical parts that she had managed to pull away from crash sites. Somehow, someway, she excelled at finding beauty in the wreckage of life. Unfortunately, destiny took her away from the mundane routine that was her savior. But, in an moment of resiliency, the skills she had learned, the narratives she had been told, the absence of her family – stuck with her on the new journey beyond her home.

    There was doubt. There would be fear. There would always be pain, death, war, love, and hate. And she never would turn those things down or turn a blind eye to the pain of those around her. She always believed in others. No matter what.

    Of course, this story is taken from the latest chapter of the Star Wars saga – and is the life of Rey. Spoilers.

    Ok. Why would I bring in a story about Star Wars to talk about religion and mental health? For a few reasons… I love Star Wars, and I deeply resonated with the story of Rey by the end of episode 9. Let me fast forward to the end of that story to explain why I love it.

    At the end of the film, Rey finds herself ending the stories and legends of old by burying the lightsabers of Luke and Leia. Now, why would she do this? In my mind, she understands the damage the Jedi Order has done. She understands that many have been slaughtered in the name of peace. She gets that civilizations and lives have been overlooked because they were not following the Jedi way. She understands, that by holding the saber of old, she shuts herself off to the lives of those she cares about – because for them, seeing the blue glow of a saber is death, not peace. Instead, she wants others to see the beauty of the force through her.

    She also sees how being obsessed with the Jedi way has consumed the hearts of Jedi before her, and turned them into the darkest of dark.

    But most importantly, she finally saw that there was more than just “light” and “evil”. There was more to her world than mystical powers, religious scripts, and warriors that played ‘saviors’ for light and dark.

    There were people. People that needed strength, tangible hope, and an untainted leadership. The past heroes made a mistake – they turned hope into a person. It was Anakin, then it was Obi-Wan, then it was Luke. It was a flawed, religious, and broken hero who had no right to play savior. Instead, Rey would recognize her own evil heart – she was born into it – and offer hope in a different way. Hope, peace, healing – it doesn’t come from being perfect. It comes from realizing that anyone can reach out to that perfection, that untainted hope and leadership. For her, it was the force.

    So, how does she embody this belief? I would argue she does this in a beautiful way. Instead of throwing away her old life entirely in shame and pain, she embraces pieces of herself that her story had made her to be. Her new saber is made from the staff that she grew up using to fight. She embodies a new name – and denies the pain of her old one.

    And then there is the color of her saber. For the average viewer, it probably didn’t have much significance. Ah, but the symbolism.

    In traditional Star Wars lore, a yellow saber signifies a very particular type of Jedi. This Jedi is one that relies heavily on their “natural” ability. For Rey, that would be her mechanical skills – by wielding a yellow saber, she is proudly stating that being a Jedi does not define her entirely. Or, perhaps, that anyone can be a Jedi – because being a Jedi doesn’t mean you are consumed by the doctrines of old. It simply means you are in touch with the force.

    And then there’s the imagery of her saber being double bladed.

    Think back for a second. Where did we see the first double blade saber in the Star Wars film universe? Darth. Maul. A sith. Now, was there Jedi with a dual blade saber? Yes. But what do we remember? What do we associate it with? Evil. Death. Pain. But she rewrites that story, because evil is not an action, it is not a look, it is not even a person. Evil is a mindset and in the heart.

    Where do we see a double blade saber in episode 9? The Sith version of herself that she fights on the fallen death star. So, by choosing a double blade – she admits that part of her feared self is true. Instead, she changes her story. Again and again, she breaks the mold.

    I think it’s fair to say that many were upset at the last words of the film. “Skywalker.” By saying this, she’s implying that anyone can be a Skywalker. The title of the film, “The Rise of Skywalker”, has so very little to do with Rey or Ben. Instead, there is an implication that anyone can be the chosen one. Anyone can change the world – even those born in the dark.

    What in the world does that have to do with religion and mental health?

    Let’s soak it in for a second.

    And let me start by saying – I believe in a God who sent his Son to die for everyone who believes that they need a savior and that He is the only path to live. And I believe that part of being a “Christian” is that you receive the Holy Spirit. I also believe that every second of your life has been planned out, intentionally, with tears and with joy, by a God who has never miscounted a hair on your head. He knows exactly how many LEGOs I have and he knows how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep. And I do believe, that the Christian life asks you to embrace you’re worldly life with a new perspective.

    For too long, there has been shame in living a “worldly” life. There is guilt in not being a missionary. There is shame in simply having wealth. And there is anger in not having enough of what we want.

    If we spend a second of our lives trying to understand the “non-religious”, we find ourselves questioning our very existence. We turn to psychological help, and we are treated as if we have denied the Lord himself. Or maybe, for you, it’s subtle.

    “You can love the world, so long as you love Jesus more.”

    “You can enjoy this world as long as you’re doing it in a love for Christ and His children.”

    I’m going to be honest, at first, nothing feels wrong with that statement. But, let’s look at this way. If we are taught this as a child, we slowly begin to believe that the world itself is evil. We slowly find it harder and harder to swallow that this world is God’s world. Is it broken by sin? Yes. Should we feel guilty for loving this world? NO! Loving Jesus and loving His children are not too separate tasks or emotions. They go, hand. In. Hand. It’s almost as if we are taught to constantly excuse our involvement in the world. “I’m friends with her, but only because I’m doing ministry.” “I take medication, but my faith is strong so it’s really fine.” “You can go to a therapist, but only after you’ve resolved your doubt in Christ.” “You’re just getting help from counseling because you don’t have enough faith. You’re just avoiding what the real problem is.”

    If you disagree with me, check out James 2:16. Prayer is unbelievably powerful. But do not make the dark mistake of throwing away the gifts of healing that the Lord has provided to us in this world.

    So, to start this conversation, I will ask you to do one thing. Bury the tales and laws of old. Put away the stories of light being people, and not the Spirit. When we are asked who we are, tell the truth. We are children of God. But don’t stop there! Show those around you that you are broken. That you were born in sin. Do as Paul did, and sincerely confess that you are chief among sinners. For we have seen, grace, we have seen this untainted hope, and continually chosen to rely on ourselves. And then, in that, speak proud about the one who has chosen to love you, despite your mistakes, despite what He knew you were born into! Being a Christian does not mean abandoning who you were before your faith. Oh, and don’t be afraid to use Star Wars as a way of speaking eternal truth. 😉

    “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” – Ephesians 2

  • A Legions’ End

    In lieu of my last post, I thought it could be worth while to share this poem that I wrote. If you haven’t yet heard or read the story from Mark 5:1-20, please read it. This poem is written from the perspective of the possessed man, and is a reflection of my own life as well. Here it goes:

  • Confidence is Key

    We were down about 0 to 5. It was our last game of the day at our conference tournament – win or lose, we would make it to the next stage of playoffs. Down by five, our coach decided to let the second string players get some playing time. Finally, I was going to play more of my favorite sport – Ultimate Frisbee.

    The second string had spent nearly all hours of the day relentlessly supporting, cheering, coaching, and affirming our teammates who had fought a good days fight. Honestly, I loved offering supporting. But as I looked around, most of the dirt and grass stains belonged on the jerseys of our first string players. They were drained, heart broken, injured, and sore. They were tired enough that barely an eye lifted to watch us play.

    It was no man’s game – nothing to lose, and seemingly nothing to prove.

    At one point in the first half, I caught the disc on the sideline. I immediately spotted one of my teammates twenty five yards down field, with several defenders between myself and them. It was zone defense.

    With the right throw, I could get the disc around my defender, over the head of the others, and right into the arms of my teammate. I had made the throw countless times in my life – in practice, with friends, with youth group students. Something inside me held it back. It’s the playoffs. The safe play is throwing it to the middle. Better to be safe than risk the play and turn it over.

    I drew the defense to the sideline with a quick fake up field to the ‘open’ receiver. With the middle defenders drawn to the sideline, I turned back to the center and quickly dished the disc to my teammate at the middle of the field. Success. I had moved the disc zero yards without a turnover.

    Someone else can make the big play.

    As the game went on for a few more points, I continued to be satisfied with the short gains. Let someone else take the risk. And take the risk they did – discs were hitting turf, flying out of bounds, landing in defenders hands – all the risks were resulting in turnovers.

    At halftime, our assistant coach – Gabby – pulled me aside.

    “Brownie. When you had the disc on the sideline, did you see Four Square (my teammate) open up the line?”

    “Yes.”

    “Do you think you could have gotten it to him?”

    “Yeah!”

    “Brownie – I’ve seen you make that throw plenty of times in practice, in worse conditions. Try something new. Now is the time to open up and try these throws in real time. Try it.”

    I wish I could tell you I had some sort of earth shattering internal pep talk with myself like …I am speed… I didn’t. Those words from my coach were enough.

    In the point following the half, I found myself in the same situation. I caught the disc on the sideline in mid stride. The defense was playing zone – meaning that their players were spread out – a flat, straight throw wouldn’t make it to anyone. A high, curving blade of a throw would easily make it to my teammate downfield. There was wind, but I knew from practice that wind would actually help my throw reach it’s target.

    I let it rip.

    The defense let out an audible sigh of frustration – I had broken their zone, requiring three of them to sprint with me down the field. As I ran, I thought about my next move, which I had learned through countless practices: Crash through the zone defense, give the receiver an easy throw. No more than five yards. At full tilt – a monstrous 2 mph – I let the three zone defenders catch up as I ran past my teammate with the disc and slammed on the breaks, letting the defenders own weight carry them further. It was an easy throw for my receiver to get it back to me.

    One throw and run after another, I was leading my team down the field. I found a confidence that evening that could only have been driven but what others saw in myself.

    I wish I could say we scored a point that game. I selfishly wish the story would end with me throwing a back corner blade to Four Square in the end zone. It didn’t. Six points later, we still hadn’t scored. As hard as I tried, my teammates were dropping passes, missing their coverage assignments – I even had one teammate drop the pass because he was looking at the sky.

    The game ended without us scoring a single point.

    However, I left that game – that season, in fact – having learning lessons that I will never forget.

    1. Taking action as a team should never be about you. I knew I could make the throw at first – but the fear of being the one to turn it over overshadowed the step forward. And because of that, my teammates who were less prepared were forced to make harder throws.
    2. Practice is not only effective, it is necessary. I never would have been as natural at throwing that day without the daily practice I was encouraged to have by my coach Charlie.
    3. When you are on the sideline, it’s for a reason. I wasn’t ready to be an on the field leader. I hadn’t shown off the field commitment to staying in shape – and didn’t show confidence invested practice time. Those two things were the key to my success – our success – and I let them go. God used me to help our team – but I regret the chances lost where I could have done more.
    4. When you doubt yourself the most, turn to someone that has watched you grow, practice, and fail. Not only can the encourage you, but they trust you!
    5. Taking a risk doesn’t always mean that everyone is going to be there to back you up. Sometimes, your teammates are stuck looking at the sky. And that’s ok – they’re learning too. Shake it off, call them out, and trust them again.
    6. Every experience in your life is there for a purpose. If you don’t search for that purpose, those experiences have been wasted – most likely, at the expense of others.
    7. Listen to those who have a close eye on you, and who are more experienced and qualified than you! And trust them.
    8. Don’t let regret and past failures lead your decisions about future risks. Treasure is always hidden under risk. Risk never equates to failure.
    9. In a team task, doubt of your abilities can lead to unbalance of overconfidence in those around you. When a hole needs to be filled, and you are the one that should have filled it – it’s likely that it will be filled by someone who is less eligible, or less experienced. Be bold in humility when it’s your time to shine.
    10. Thank those who have brought you up. Big thanks to Charlie, Gabby, BA, and Aaron – who continually boosted my confidence and expertise.
    11. My head coach, Charlie, just retired after a great career with the Messiah Falcons. The #11 will always be reserved for you! Congrats!!!
  • “We are far too easily pleased.”

    “We are far too easily pleased.”

    It seems that the writings of C.S. Lewis have always found a place in my life: guiding me through spiritual warfare, offering a perspective of humility, coming alongside my worst writing efforts, encouraging me in times of despair – his work has been one of the dearest gifts of this world. In recent times, this quote has summarized the emotions and thoughts that recklessly bounce around my head with no care for the desired sanctity of peace. They have been a solace amidst waves of confusion and doubt. When you don’t have the words to say, there is undoubtedly another who has already written your heart down themselves. Literacy is the web that connects generations, nations, religions, old dreams and new ones. This world is not nearly as mysteriously fantastical as I once believed it to be – for there is one continual thread throughout history. 

    We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by a holiday at sea.

    We are far too easily pleased.

    post

    Look again at this picture. Take in what it shows you. At first glance, I desperately wanted to dive in to the water, enjoy the setting sun, and lose all the care in the world. For just a moment, I desired the peace, beauty, and rest that this photo gives hope of offering.

    And yet here I am. Comfortable sitting on a couch, worrying my heart away about the concerns of tomorrow. Certainly – if I truly wanted – I could travel to the nearest ocean, swim out into the flowing waves, and arrive just in time for the setting sun. I could have it all.

    And yet here I am. Why? Why haven’t I stepped out into this possibility?

    In reality, there is much that limits me – the time it takes to drive, the fact that my car needs an oil change, the fact that I am about to eat dinner. And yet, for the sake of my point – if this experience was truly the best for me – I would have no real reason to not throw away my trivial concerns and jump head first into the adventure.

    Let’s say this holiday is indeed the best for me – what keeps me glued to this sofa, endlessly writing about passions and seas?

    Perhaps, it is because I have believed that what I am doing now – a mere taste of what could be – is the very experience itself. Yes, my heart may leap at the thought of a woman whom I admire – but seeing her is entirely more exhilarating. I may get lost at a picture of this setting sun – but the reality of being there is unknown, rewarding, and by far more worthwhile than looking at a photo.

    Get to the point, Matt.

    The point. All of us have glanced at that ocean from afar. Perhaps through the delight of our children, the smile of a loved one, a thank you from a stranger, the majesty of the Rocky Mountains, or the evidence of a job well done. This is God offering us a taste of what he can give us in eternity.

    This blog is designed to work through my own walk of finding light in a broken world. There is a moment, in everyone’s life, when the mud pies fall to bits. As the mud slips through your hands, you shutter in the despair of the reality you have sold your heart upon.

    That is where the hope of eternity comes in hand. When all has failed, and you see the earth for what it is – a mockery of God’s glory and grace – be reminded that we are always invited to His holiday at sea. When you reach that despair, and all slips through…

    Your eyes may lift up to your King offering out His hand to something better. Something eternal, that will never falter. Something beyond our comprehension. And as your eyes drift down again to the mud that you so desperately had clung to, it is re-shaping. You see now that it was never meant to satisfy, but instead to be a reminder of what your Father has offered you. Perhaps it will always be mud – perhaps it was never meant to be a gift – but it will, with the Spirits help, always point you towards the true treasure.