Just Dialed 9-1-1!

In 2010 I decided to run an ultra-marathon, which is any distance over 26.2 miles.  I tackled the race hosted by the canyon trails of the Texas Panhandle, a 50-mile venture.  Part of the running appeal is its individual nature - just me,  a pair of shoes (yes, clothes too), and dirt trails.  If completed I knew I would stand - okay sit, or at least lean on a post - and say, "Look what I did!  Just me!"  But I deceived myself!  Although my feet covered the 50 long miles, preparing and running an ultra was far more than an individual effort.  I needed help...

1. I relied on a 16-week training plan to get my non-athlete physique in shape.
2. If it were not for the company of Perry Noble, Steven Furtick, Rick Atchley, Matt Chandler, and Bob Babbit I would not have survived the 4-5 hour training runs.  Thank you iPod and long-winded preachers!
3. I fueled my engine with Gatorade and Cliff bars.
4. My wife gave up Friday-Saturday mornings so I could get up at 4 AM to trot around the dusty roads of the West Texas oilfields for 4-5 hours.
5. A headlamp kept me from dining on dirt.
6. On race day, the race organizers plotted a 12.5 mile loop.  After the 4th go around I knew to stop.
7. Carefully placed aid stations, stocked with PBJ's, chips, Snickers, pretzels, fruit, were beacons in the night.
8. Volunteers filled my water bottle with ice at every station (it was 86 degrees).
9. Encouraging words from fellow runners and spectators propelled me forward when my legs were screaming, "Stop, you idiot!"

So I finished 50 miles in 8 hrs and 55 minutes but I had help!  I needed help!  So do you.  Coiled somewhere in America's DNA is the independence lie - that somehow I can achieve and succeed based on sheer determination, ability, and perseverance.  We admire and "pedistalize" individuals who overcome great odds "on their own."  I stress to my boys, "You need to learn how to do this because one day I won't be here and you'll have to do this by yourself!" As a result, we hesitate to ask for help.  In fact, we tend to look down our noses at those requesting help!  But we all need help!

Take Moses for example.  I want his epitaph: "Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face, who did all those signs and wonders the LORD sent him to do in Egypt—to Pharaoh and to all his officials and to his whole land. For no one has ever shown the mighty power or performed the awesome deeds that Moses did in the sight of all Israel" (Deut. 34:10-12).  He was a powerful leader for Israel, the greatest of the prophets.  He stood toe to toe with Pharaoh; he led a whiny-baby group of people through the desert; he fought before God on behalf of the people, but even Moses needed help.

In Exodus 18, Israel has fled Egypt and taken up a nomadic desert life.  Moses' plate was full, so full he needed a salad plate for the extras.  Not only did he serve as God's mouthpiece but also as Israel's judge.  Some days Moses skipped lunch and his cigarette break to meet his dispute-settling quota.  He was on a one way train to "Burnout" when his father-in-law not only pays him a visit but offers some wise advice.  His father-in-law's advice? "Ask for help!"

“What you are doing is not good.  You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone.  Listen now to me and I will give you some advice, and may God be with you. You must be the people’s representative before God and bring their disputes to him.  Teach them his decrees and instructions, and show them the way they are to live and how they are to behave.  But select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain—and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens.  Have them serve as judges for the people at all times, but have them bring every difficult case to you; the simple cases they can decide themselves. That will make your load lighter, because they will share it with you.  If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied.” (Deut. 18:18-23)

Moses took his father-in-law's advice and went on to become the Moses we all know.  Perhaps if he had refused to ask for help he would have wound up popping anti-anxiety medicine and running far away from his calling.

As Americans, we glorify rugged individualism - Lone Ranger, Rambo, John McClane, Malboro Man... We hesitate to ask for help.  Actually, we avoid having to ask for help at all costs.  We see it as weak.  It is.  That's the point, we ARE weak!  We live under the illusion that we are self-sustaining and independent, but we are only one clotted artery away, or one ruptured blood vessel, or one driving text message, or one sinful decision, or one sinful decision by someone close to us, or one in-home spark, or one blown ACL, or one... from getting slapped in the face with reality - YOU ARE DEPENDENT and not just upon God and his Spirit but upon people.  God made us dependent!  God made us to need others.  When we ask for help we embrace the truth that life is greater than my existence, that the universe is large, that I exist by grace alone.


So, do you need emotional help?  Do you need spiritual help?  Do you need financial help?  Do you need mental help? Do you need marital help?  Do you need physical help?  Ask for it!  It is humbling.  It is hard.  It is weak.  But, it is REAL!

A Striptease

Although the human path is diverse and varied, all of us intersect at life's mandatory stops: the yearning to be loved, the need to eat, the search for meaning, the desire to have a high school experience like Saved by the Bell and dreams.  We all dream.  And here, at this intersection, many order the same drink.  In other words, there are individual dreams unique to you, then there are those dreams common to millions like falling and the classic naked in public.

 Setting aside nudists, Aborigines and the Amazonian Indians, most sane human beings aren't going to take a stroll through Times Square in their birthday suits.  So why is naked in public such a common fear theme? Because we all fear the shame that comes with being exposed. My uneducated guess is that naked in public has nothing to do with being attire-less, but rather with humiliation, embarrassment, negative attention and being seen without the ability to hide.  We like to wear clothes that conceal those parts of us we don't like--parts others would deem disgusting and that might shock and awe our friends and neighbors.

Naked in public threads its way through the human fabric because, I believe, we all fear being exposed. We don't want our acquaintances, neighbors, friends, families and even those who know us best to see those unlovable and disturbing parts of our hearts and souls. So we cover them up with layers of social clothing. We know if we shed our facade and disrobe, everyone will stare, some will run and others will point their fingers and condemn; and rightly so, because those parts of us are not pretty...not pretty at all.

But sometimes the clothes are too much. Either we get tired of wearing them, or more commonly, those dark parts of our souls break free from the dungeons where we've chained them and we find ourselves bared and naked. That's what I did. I'm guilty and as a result I'm living naked in public. All those parts of me I've tried to hide are now open topics of conversation for both people who know my brand of undies, to those whose extent of knowledge about me are the passing daily exchanges, "How are ya?"

"Fine. You?"

"Fine."

I cannot hide anymore. I cannot pretend anymore; and it's not because I don't want to, but because it's too late. In that very fact is both great freedom and great shame. But here's the truth: when you first stand on stage buck naked, in front of the world, you want to run, hide and wrap yourself in the curtain. But the longer you are out there and the longer you are exposed, the more those stares and jeers become routine. Eventually, being naked becomes the norm.

I'm not there yet, but this blog is dedicated to helping me become comfortable in my new-found nudity. I write here, not because I have something important to say, know something you don't, have impeccable logic or the answers you seek, but because I'm attempting to be honest, to trust in hope, and stand with the Risen Christ.

Perhaps you are somewhere on this spectrum: 1. with a secret in your heart too black to tell, knowing that doing so would lead to being disowned and shunned by all you love, 2. struggling to overcome sin yet feeling incapable of doing so, or 3. perhaps bared and naked!  I don't have answers for you ('cause I need answers).  I don't have 12 steps.  I'm not offering advice ('cause I'm searching for advice of my own).  But, I can relate.  I will listen.  I will accept you.  And most importantly, I will stand with you as we stand alongside the Risen Christ.


If you would like to visit with me, a fellow struggler, shoot my wife an email: mbt6675@gmail.com.  Give her a contact method and I'll get in touch with you.

Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ...[nothing] in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.