The Power of Need

I think needing may be better than giving.  It’s just a suspicion I have been twiddling with, but I can’t shake it.  The response to need and weakness is very powerful.  It draws forth a power that changes lives.  It seems often, to bring more pleasure to the giver than the receiver.  The position of need is modeled by Christ in two of the most powerful moments of history and he talks about it a great deal in all four gospels.  It seems to me that the response to need is an evidence of how the universe works.  Maybe it’s different than we thought?

I have seen a version of this response lately in the actions of many of my friends and neighbors.  They have offered to cook and bring food and help serve neighbors for a Christmas Dinner on Christmas Day.  They have delighted to take tags off the Giving Tree and bring gifts for people they do not know and do not expect to meet.  I know they have smiled inwardly and felt a deeper, more pervasive sense of enjoyment than when they do these same things for their own personal benefit.  There is something powerful about the gift of need.

We have undervalued it.  I suspect that, in this Kingdom of Heaven we have been invited to, the value of need may be just as significant as any other gift, perhaps even more valuable.  It may even be possible that being in need is the greatest gift that has ever been given.  For, if we were not in need, we could not be in relationship.  Without relationship, our eternity would be forfeit or at least void of meaning, joy, hope, love, discovery, beauty and awestruck wonder. 

Soon after Jesus introduced this invitation to the Kingdom of Heaven, he describes the residents and property owners of his Kingdom.  They are poor in spirit, mourning and meek.  They hunger and thirst after righteousness, they are merciful, pure in heart, peacemaking and persecuted.  This new realm is designed as the home to return to for originally perfect humans. They were cast out of the garden, ruined.  His kingdom is made for the broken.  The new residents of the Spiritual Realm where love, faith and hope bring restoration are those whose need is clearly evident and submitted to.  And they are blessed.

Jesus spends his days reaching into the lives of the people he touches.  He touches them with power and changes them.  One real interaction with the power of his love and they are free, shouting for joy, smiling through tears and telling everyone they meet.  Can you imagine his satisfied chuckle as he watches a running, skipping, hollering former leper he has just told to “tell no one”?  I can just see him muttering sarcastically to Peter without a trace of annoyance, “They never listen…”

When questioned and challenged by the super-religious who thought it was unbecoming that he spend so much time with the unruly, unclean and unrepentant, he said, “It is not the healthy that need a doctor.”  Isn’t it the greatest feeling in the world to go to the doctor, worried about some ailment’ you’re sure is deadly (maybe that’s just me) and find out that it’s just a common issue and a couple helpings of little pills will make it go away?  Or better yet, go see the magic chiropractor, Dr. Allen.  Show up in pain and leave breathing deeply.

In my life over the last few years, I have experienced the pain and fear of subtraction.  Much of that which I have relied upon for life and security is gone.  I relate to people who have seen heaven open and received job loss, debilitating illness and broken relationship.  Things that can’t be fixed.  Funny thing, crazy idea… I’m not sure I want to go back.  When people have said to me, “Don’t worry Curtis, you’ll figure it out and before you know it, you’ll be right back where you were,” I shudder and my mouth tastes sour. 

I caught myself in the middle of a conversation with Jesus about how cool it would be if he gave me a million bucks.  We were running along (maybe he was floating…) and the conversation just fell flat.  After awhile, he said, “really…?” in that thought provoking way that implied his awareness of my wisdom juxtaposed with curiosity about my stupidity.  A few steps later the light slowly came on.  It’s on a dimmer switch like the one in my dining room.  It’s a pretty cool set up called a three way switch which is nice in the dining room since it’s nearly nine feet from one end to the other and it keeps me from having to walk all that way to turn the light on or off.  We can do it from either end of the room.  In this case though, one of the switches has both the switch and the slider thingy for dimming.  So, if the dimmer slider is in the down position, you can furiously flick either switch to your hearts dismay and nothing will come on.  You can even run back and forth, muttering foully under your breath, growing in volume switching one up and down and the other back and forth and … nothing.  If the dimmer is not quite all the way down and you flip the switch, the light will come on dimly and accompanied by a undulating high frequency squeal that will eventually cause the grey matter cells in your to head vibrate and explode.  We lost a few hamsters in this unfortunate scenario.  So, you gotta move the dimmer switch all the way up if you want the light to be useful and not just create tripping hazards.  That is very much the story of the light that Jesus has to work with in my head.  He is very patient and when he mutters, it is mostly gentle teasing (as far as I can tell).

So, when the light came on, I got this lop-sided Charlie brown grin on my face and realized that I didn’t really want a million bucks.  I want to see Jesus come through.  He is so cool that way, when he shows up, comes through.  Those moments that I realize that God is actually involved in my life in both the intimate, mundane details and the glorious, stadium shaking pinnacle moments; those are the moments where life is most real and most breathtaking.  It is when I need that I find the ecstasy of rescue and the joy of salvation.

I’m trying to take Jesus at his word.  When he says that the poor are blessed along with those who mourn and hunger and thirst and make peace, I’m trying to believe that.  Most of the time it is an unsubstantiated choice for trust.  But here and there (certainly not everywhere) the light shines and I can see some evidence.  Funny that most of the time, I have believed for a while before I see evidence.  In this particular case, the idea of the undervalued position of need has been sloshing around in my head for a couple days.  I suppose, precipitated somewhat by the Christmas season. 

I propose, taking his word for it, that need is just as valuable, maybe more valuable than gift.  It may in fact be a gift.  Here is my logic.  If it is better to give than receive (no one really argues with that), then isn’t the receiver giving the “better” gift?  What is harder to offer, humble need or generous giving?  Who is looked down on, the needy or the self-reliant? 

What about the body illustration?  If I am a liver, it is true that I am vital to the body.  Due to my vital-ness, I have an important gift to give – I am so important.  But I cannot survive, function or provide any benefit at all unless I am in constant fulfilled need from the rest of the body.  Without the supply of blood from heart and vein, the removal of waste by kidney, bladder and bowel , the processing of oxygen by lungs or the protection of muscle and bone, I would be a lump of meat.  What I have to offer is in tension with my need.  The true glory of the other parts of the body comes into play when I am broken and they work together to bring healing.  That is where deep connectedness grows from dependence and gratitude.

Back to Christmas - when the time had come for the final battle, the fulfillment of promise, while the Israelites were watching for the invasion of a conqueror and his mighty army, an embryo was formed by the miraculous interaction between the Holy Spirit and an egg in the womb of an unmarried teen-age girl.  A baby was born in a cave with a bunch of smelly livestock.  Dirty, outcast shepherds were the first to know.  He grew up poor and hard working and lived his public life jobless and relying on the generosity of his friends for food and shelter.  The most incomprehensible demonstrations of the power of the creator were the invasion by a helpless baby and the culmination of his ministry in his death on the cross.  He needed.  He was alone with our need.  He cried, wracked by the pain, sorrow and hopelessness of my lost-ness and yours – our need.

Jesus has been present at every point of my brokenness, the causes and the outworking.  He has heard and felt the messages that I have received and known the doubt and sense of powerlessness.  He has been betrayed, left out, overlooked and unheard.  He has been accused, forsaken and cast aside.  For you and I, he bore every pain, hurt and sin we have ever or will ever interact with and at that point he needed.  Somehow, in his great power, he needed and somehow, out of his need he has given the gift of life – restored life.  Clearly, this is a great mystery.

And so, those that seem less honorable, we treat with greater honor.  Those who are in need are blessed.  Not the got-everything-figured-out’s but the oh-crap-what-do-I-do-now’s have been invited to repentance and participation in the Kingdom.  The guy who rescued us did not come galloping up to Bethlehem with chariots and swords drawn (at least not in this realm).  In our world he came crying, needing his mother and he ended up dying, needing his Father. 

This mystery is a mystery.  It cannot be solved, it can only be wondered at and trusted…or not.  It’s intent is to reveal, through the saints, the manifold wisdom of our Father to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms - the realm of the Kingdom of Heaven that, here and now, we have been invited to.  It is the gift of needing that he introduced with power that first Christmas.  And it is very much worth celebrating.

For more on this, check out Matthew 9, Ephesians 3 and 1 Corinthians 12.

Watching Momentum

It’s all about the shoes.  At least for me, this time, the shoes were the X-factor.  You know that feeling of freedom and joy that comes when you were broken and now you’re not?  The day you realize your back doesn’t hurt anymore, your head isn’t filled with mucus or the results came back saying your were healthy; that is a good day… if only we could remember. 

I am a runner.  I am not a fair weather runner.  I am not a competitive runner.  I run to be outside, to pray, to live well, to think clearly and to know that I can run.  I catch myself, sometimes, watching my feet change places rhythmically.  It’s wonderful to see forward momentum.  I love country roads and the frogs croaking, crickets chirping while the trees turn dark against the wide colored sky.  It makes me chuckle and holler with unbridled, happy energy. 

Four months ago, I got a new pair of the wrong shoes.  I ran less than 60 miles before my knee got all disconnected from itself.  I discovered this disconnectedness when I bent down to put a tire on a trailer and it popped.  My eyes popped wide from the realization that I had just inadvertently quit running for some indeterminate length of time.  “Oh Shucks!,” I thought, “well, maybe it will get better really fast…”  I didn’t really think “oh shucks,” but this is a PG story.  So, I bent down over and over that day, putting on trailer tires.  My knee didn’t get better really fast.  I let it rest for a couple days, then went running in those shiny new shoes; just a couple slow miles.  Then a few days later four miles; ouch.  So I let it rest a whole week then ran a 10k.  I had to get the shirt.  The bummer about that 10k, the Pints to Pasta, was the parking.  It was a 10-minute walk for a healthy person and a 30-minute walk for a pretending-to-be-thoughtful-while-I-try-not-to-cry-because-my-knee-oh-my-knee-hurts-so-bad.  And yes, I do drive a little truck with a clutch. 

I let it rest even longer, this time because I could barely walk.  I studied and determined it was the little band (MCL) that connected the top bone to the bottom bone on the inside of my left knee.  My symptoms indicated only a level one sprain.  Then I ran again, just a tiny bit.  No good, I could tell it wasn’t going to work.  So I went to see my magical, mystical, only $45.00 per session chiropractor.  He pressed, pulled and popped and said it was fixed.  I could run two days later on Friday and he would be in on the weekend if I needed it.  I waited.  Aren’t I disciplined?  A full week later I strapped on the shoes and went for a short, achingly slow run.  It still hurt.  By now, my nice guy patience was transparent in most places and see through in all the others. 

I started riding and swimming.  My sitter ached, my hair turned to burnt broom strands but it didn’t hurt my knee.  I didn’t even try to run.  Like I said – discipline.  I even tried hot yoga.  It was hot.  I would have quit that but I was in a room full of small women and my wife was right next to me.  That wasn’t discipline; I just didn’t want the humiliation.  All this time, I feel sad, I feel lost and empty.  I’m irritated by everything.  My mind goes too fast and I’m unpleasant to be around.  I’m considering either becoming a monkish or just giving myself over to junk food and B movies on late night TV… and infomercials. 

Then, here is where the story turns; I got my Somnio Line Up Device.  See, for the last several months, I have been considering being a “Somniac”.  This is the moniker for a person who represents Somnio Shoe Company and helps people solve their running problems.  Somnio is a new company that created a customizable running shoe.  Using different inserts and cushioning options, a Somniac can create a shoe that perfectly matches the biomechanical needs of each foot and leg of a runner.  So it is possible, with 650 different options, to create a different shoe for each foot.  The Line Up Device uses lasers to determine a runner’s angle of pronation.  I am “supposedly” an over-pronator. 

So, I got my Line Up Device.  I watched the video.  I tried it out on myself.  It said I’m not an over-pronator.  I scowled in consternation and tried it again.  Same thing.  I scowl some more and pull on my beard (it helps me think).  I look at my old running shoes and watch a couple more videos.  Suspicion starts brewing and I walk around aimlessly for awhile, muttering to myself and postulating to my kids and my wife.  They look and me and roll their eyes.  I have my daughter run the line up device and tell me what my knees are doing.  She confirms my suspicions.  I call Somnio and run my theory by them.  They confirm it to. 

I have been wearing the wrong shoes.  I am the opposite of an over-pronator.  I had essentially, with those shiny new shoes, strapped a brick to the inside of my foot.  What is called medial posting, intended to halt foot motion, was banging the crap out of the joints in my right leg.  So, every time things started feeling better, I put those shoes on and went for a little run… Yeah, kind of like trying to heal a scab by rubbing it with 36 grit sand paper.  Or like fixing a cavity by holding 300 gummy bears in your mouth for 12 hours.  It’s just not going to work.

Somnio sent me a new pair of shoes (for free).  I had ordered a motion control version back when I was an over pronator.  While I waited, I started running just a little in my old shoes.  And…nothing.  Nothing hurt.  I iced, just to be safe and to prove to my daughter that I was tough enough to do for five minutes what she did every day for 20.  I ran again and again, even in shoes with over 750 miles on them.  I got my new Somios and ran a 5k with my wife.  I’m ok.  My knees don’t hurt.  I ran this morning in the rain and cold with my soggy running dog getting my leg wet.  Splashing through puddles, I smiled really wide in the gray morning. 

The lesson here – I did not know who I was.  I wore armor that did not fit and it broke me.  I could not be me in the wrong shoes.  I am a certain kind of person.  I can’t be another kind.  If I know who I am, it tells me what I should do.  When I then try to do that thing – it works.  Even if it doesn’t look like it at first.  Even if it feels awkward.  If I be me, it works.  The whole wide world is ready for me.  I’m ready for it, but only in the right shoes.