What You Can Control

Every July, it’s a joy to witness the Hall of Fame Induction ceremony for Major League Baseball. This afternoon’s inductees included Ichiro Suzuki, CC Sabathia, Billy Wagner, Dave Parker, and Dick Allen. Every speech was unique, as one would expect from five distinguished players. But the one who seemed to shine the brightest was Ichiro Suzuki.

Ichiro at the ceremony for his induction into the Mariners Hall of Fame. (Daniel Macadangdang/Seattle Refined)

In their wrap up following his speech, the MLB network hosts were in awe. They celebrated his humor, his speaking in English, and the audience’s amazement and adoration. In stating what they most appreciated about it, one of them captured his message with this statement:

Focus on what you can control.

Even though he was told not to embarrass his home country…even though he didn’t speak English…even though he was told he was too small…he chose to focus on what he could control when starting and throughout his MLB career.

  • Like making sure his spikes were clean
  • Like setting goals rather than focusing on dreams
  • Like not letting team staff lace up his glove and doing it himself
  • Like not making excuses for failure and taking responsibility to improve

Many forces tempt us to focus on the wrong things. Sometimes they succeed. Reaching the goals we are called to requires resisting temptations, whether they’re mental, emotional, physical, relational, or spiritual.

Ichiro admitting having strong doubts in the beginning and along the way of his historic career. The one person he said never doubted him was his wife. She helped him stay focused on what he could control.

May we all pay more attention to what we can control, listen to those closest to us, and resist the temptations to do otherwise.

Attached to God (book review)

Last Fall I read Krispin Mayfield’s Attached to God.

I wrote one post about a lament exercise he outlined, but I never offered my thoughts about the whole book once I finished. Today, I finished rereading it. Time to share.

I’m a little obsessed.

My hunch is that anyone wishing to understand or improve their relationships with humans and with God would also believe Mayfield delivers on the subtitle’s promise of a practical guide. His effort to breakdown attachment science then connect it to one’s relational experience with God produces clarity and hope for any breakdown to be restored.

Of all my highlights, here are three to whet your appetite.

Distance happens in all relationships. (Chapter 1, “The Still Face of God”)

A friend of mine recently made a self awareness by saying, “I guess I live in a fantasy world.” I’d say that’s true for many professing Christians in regards to their beliefs about how close they are expected to feel to God at all times. Mayfield argues human relationship with God is like our other relationships-distance happens.

I was in my 30s before I fully accepting this truth. Many close friends moved and distance happened. It’s normal. That doesn’t provide comfort or easy acceptance, just normalcy. Learning how to respond to distance in a secure way is worth the effort, for you and for the relationship.

Information doesn’t change your beliefs, experience does. (Chapter 4, “Shutdown Spirituality”)

When religious folks get their head around this one, attachment shifts. And it’s a struggle. Why? We are programmed that attending church or a study group is the sole means of establishing beliefs. Any transparent pastor or counselor would most likely agree with Mayfield. They’ve seen how experiences affirm or alter beliefs, in their own lives and in those they serve.

From my experience, this has definitely played out the last 15 years for me. Traveling to other countries, visiting other denominational churches, and dialoguing with Christians on the other side of all kinds of aisles has made me check my beliefs. And yes, some have changed.

In any authentic relationship, there’s room for real talk. (Chapter 10, “The Risk of Trust”)

When people describe what the younger generations are looking for in their attachment to religion and God, the word authentic comes up regularly. I believe age doesn’t matter; we all hunger for it. This 57-year-old does.

RECOMMENDATION: For all your attachment seasons, secure or insecure in any relationships including God, this book deserves space in your library.

Deliver Me (book review)

Meeting writers after you’ve read their book or blog is an interesting experience. My experiences have always been positive. I can’t think of an interaction when I walked away saying, “They weren’t at all what I expected.”

There’s a whole different vibe when you know them before they are published or start a blog. If you thought you knew them well beforehand, you find out pretty quickly that they have layers, stories that have made them the person you know. In many ways, you walk away from reading their work saying, “What a gift they just gave the world!”

That’s my response to reading my friend Dawn Van Beck‘s latest book Deliver Me. Only having crossed paths this last year, we are still learning our layers and stories. Well, I guess I can’t say that as much now since that’s pretty much what Dawn does in this book. And she doesn’t hold back.

Dawn’s raw vulnerability as she addresses regrets, shame, forgiveness, and letting go relays her healing journey to freedom. You can imagine she states many life-giving lessons, but here’s the one that I most appreciated.

That’s what happens when you give God a little-He creates more. (chapter 11, “Releasing the Shackles”)

In describing a dream where she experienced the release from shame and the gift of forgiveness, Dawn paints a clear picture of what I believe she did by writing this book. One belief of mine: I believe she gave more than a little. She gave a whole lot more. And God is creating even more.

Dawn, thank you for giving. Thank you for sharing your story. I pray God continues to create more.

“I Don’t Feel Safe”

In episode 10 of Season 11 of the Being Known podcast, Dr. Thompson named something that I instantly honed in on because I’ve experienced it.

Over the last few years, I’ve experienced several instances where someone explained their reaction to an event or moment with the phrase, “I didn’t feel safe.” That immediately appeared to me like a learned expression, something they’ve been educated as a way to express their reaction. Yet, that phrase in and of itself left me with questions. But they were questions I kept to myself lest I upset the person any further or potentially came across as not hearing them or lacking empathy. Frankly, I walked away wondering how best to respond.

Dr. Thompson explains his opinion about the usage of this phrase in this two-minute clip.

“The reality is I don’t know what you mean when you say you feel unsafe.”

I connected with that statement. It feels like the work of repair is somehow all on the other party, but it doesn’t seem clear where to start. Changing the statement to what is actually being felt instead of what is not being felt makes things clearer for both parties.

I’m curious about your experience of either using this phrase or being on the receiving end of it. How do you respond to Dr. Thompson’s thoughts about it?

Thank you, Black Beans!

His name is Yohel Pozo. St. Louis Cardinals’ fans know him…more by the day.

This photo from yesterday is his winning-the-game stance, waiting for his teammates to rush him in celebration after he hit the winning single in the 11th inning to end the game. As usual, there’s much more to his story than that one moment.

Before this season, 27-year-old Pozo, a native of Venezuela, had played just 21 major league games with the Rangers back in 2021. Believe it or not, only a year earlier Pozo and his family found themselves homeless and living out of their car. Why? Besides being out of work due to the Minor League season being canceled due to the COVID pandemic, his young son had suffered a stroke when he was just a few months old, depleting the family’s finances.

How has Pozo managed to stay focused and deliver once-in-a-lifetime results, such as homering in his St. Louis debut back in April? Based on this quote, it appears it’s having a foundation of fundamentals skills that make him a clutch, reliable hitter in any situation.

That type of routine may sound drastic, even unnecessary. But its results have sustained Yozo and his family, who are reaping the long-awaited benefits.

He’s having fun. The fans are too. We all can thank dad and grandpa…and I suppose black beans.

Sources:

https://www.mlb.com/cardinals/news/yohel-pozo-wants-grandfather-and-father-to-see-him-play-in-the-big-leagues

https://www.mlb.com/cardinals/news/yohel-pozo-homers-in-cardinals-debut

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend (book review)

First, I want to think my friend Megan for gifting this book to me. And I’m going to regift it as suggested.

You’re not alone if the name Sanford Greenberg is new to you. After reading his memoir, I suggest taking the time to get to know him.

His life is triumphant in numerous ways, most notably the journey of taking the tragedy of going blind and living life to the fullest in spite of it. How he accomplished finishing college and going after other degrees is one thing. But continuing to dream big and go hard in all areas is equally inspiring.

Knowing I’m regifting the book, I didn’t do any highlighting. Out of many elaborative thoughts and quotes, I’d like to share just one from chapter 14, “The Start of Something Big.”

I was bitten by some kind of bug. Once someone gets his or her resolve up and running, and gets it focused in a direction, it is hard to put on the brakes. In a word, there is momentum. Also, aggressive work habits form. For us blind people, it is especially hard to hold back because we are always concerned about security. Like those who survived and prospered long after the Great Depression but could never shake the habit of stockpiling food and cash for a rainy day, we never feel comfortable, in our guts, about sitting back and saying ‘Okay, that’s it. I’ve done enough.’

Sitting back. It seems to be an art form of sorts. Or at least some form of discipline that some do naturally and others work hard to pursue.

Security. It seems to be more and more pursued yet less and less attained.

Greenberg’s journey of learning to sit back and where to find security led him to this conclusion: “The only worthwhile things in the world are people and ideas.” These drove him to an extraordinary life that may have only been possible due to overcoming tragedy, striving for the light.

I’m richer for having read Sanford Greenberg’s memoir. I’m glad we met.

If it’s doubtful you’ll read it, enrich yourself by watching this video about his lifelong friendship with Art Garfunkel.

Receivers are Peacemakers

Two ongoing life wins today: Spiritual Directing and Being Known Podcast Listening

I’m up to episode 9 in season 11, which is entitled “Rupture and Repair.” This episode focused on mastering the art of repair.

23+ minutes into the conversation Curt said this:

Everybody needs the place where you can come and discharge…especially in the presence of someone else who can receive it. We need to know what needs to be discharged can be done in the presence of someone who can receive it.

He goes on to make the connection that everyone who pursues repairing ruptures is actually growing in their ability to be a peacemaker.

A peacemaker can then be someone who is growing in their understanding of how to manage their own ruptures.

A peacemaker is also someone who is a trusted receiver of someone’s responses to their ruptures.

Together peace is pursued.

Together repair is possible after rupture.

Rupture is coming. How can we grow in our response? Who can I lean on to be a receiver in my need for peace?

This was just one of many gems in this episode. Catch the full episode here:

NOTE: Spiritual Directors are receivers and peacemakers. It’s why I keep returning…and winning.

A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 (book review)

After reading The Lord is My Courage on hoopla, a related title was suggested which I decided to read because of the unique promise. That promise was a look at this poem from the basis of the author’s years as a keeper of sheep. It did not disappoint.

An overall takeaway is just how near death sheep can be unless their shepherd relentlessly cares for them. Keller explains that David’s poem actually addresses all four seasons in a year of a sheep’s life and what is necessary for the sheep to “not want.”

The strange thing about sheep is that because of their very makeup it is almost possible for them to be made to lie down unless four requirements are met…They are free of all fear, free from friction, free of pests, and free from hunger. (Chapter 3, “He Makes Me Lie Down in Green Pastures”)

In that same chapter he explains that a flock that is restless, discontented, always agitated, and disturbed never does well. Sound familiar? The value of being made to lie down is to our benefit.

The most vivid image Keller paints comes in chapter five, “He Restores My Soul.” He draws a parallel between another familiar David passage in Psalm 42:11, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God…”

Only those acquainted with sheep and their habits understand the significance of a “cast” sheep or a “cast down” sheep.

This is an old English shepherd’s term for a sheep that has turned over on its back and cannot get up again by itself.

A cast sheep is a very pathetic sight. Lying on its back, its feet in the air, it flays away frantically struggling to stand up, without success. Sometimes it will bleat a little for help, but generally it lies there lashing about in frightened frustration.

If the owner does not arrive on the scene within a reasonably short time, the sheep will die…Nothing seems to so arouse his constant care and diligent attention to the flock as the fact that even the largest, fattest, strongest, and sometimes healthiest sheep can become cast and be a casualty.

He goes on to describe what’s required when he finds a cast ewe, which includes rubbing limbs to restore circulation after picking her up one or more times until she regains equilibrium and starts to walk steadily and surely.

One final noteworthy thought is this one from chapter 7, “Even Though I Walk Through the Valley.” Keller shares that this is a turn in the poem not only from the viewpoint but also in the season being described, how summer and autumn look for the shepherd and his flock. Keller explains David’s firsthand experience by making this statement: “Never did he take his flock where he had not already been before.”

If you find yourself today in search of freedom, or lying on your back flaying, or walking through the valley, rest assured your shepherd is with you. He has what you need. He’s watching over you. I encourage you to find a way to read this book to let those truths grow roots in your heart, mind, and soul.

Photo by Peter Hoogmoed on Unsplash

Keep the Seeds Coming

Recently, after reading a book about the life of Jesus, I decided it was time to read through the Gospels. For the most part, I’m taking it a chapter a day.

This week I read the Parable of the Sower, one of Jesus’ most well-known parables, in Mark 4; it’s also found in Matthew 13 and Luke 8. The teaching focuses on four outcomes of the sown seeds: stolen, short-lived, choked, and fruitbearing.

Keeping your path receptive to the sown seeds requires diligence. Diligence against predators. Diligence to protect roots. Diligence to prioritize eternal things. Diligence to stay hungry and thirsty.

The featured picture on this post is from my back yard. Fortunate for me, HOA fees keep the community where I now live quite immaculate. In the month that I’ve lived here, it’s clear diligence is heavily disciplined.

The state of my heart and soul is no one else’s responsibility. I can’t pay a fee for someone else to be diligent on my behalf. Pretty sure that leads to wrong priorities, unprotected and rootless living. If my heart was originally set on eternity, it’s in my best interest to diligently maintain that origin.

Keep the seeds coming.

The Beauty of Singing Over Someone

Rewatched Rain Man last night. Worth it. So many layers that each time I watch I have different reactions.

In the scene that takes the plot in a new direction, I had one of those reactions. Watch.

The 40-second clip of Ray and Charlie singing is what grabbed me. The beauty of their reconnection through music is unique and priceless.

Singing over someone is beautiful. It’s not the same as singing to someone, like Ray had to Charlie. It’s not the same as singing about or with someone. Singing over them stands alone in the connection created, thus the unique beauty of the moment.

The reason this stuck out to me was I had the opportunity to witness the beauty of someone singing over someone just the day before. I won’t go into the details. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be there. I count it a joy to have witnessed.

When you sing over someone, no one cares about the elements and expectations of a grand performance like pitch or stage presence. In fact, it’s the opposite. The connection of hearts means the most in that moment. And that’s where the beauty lies.

As churchgoers attend church this weekend, I hope they’ll allow this connection to have room, whether they are being sung over or are doing the singing over.

As sabbath keepers embrace their time this weekend, I wish for them at least one moment of such beauty.