Dump or Destination? (Friday Devotional)

For the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.

- 1 Samuel 16:7

Last Saturday, Lindsey and I took Andrew on a special field trip somewhere we knew he’d love. As we predicted, he ate it up. He got to see things he’d only seen in books, he got to take in a whole new world of sounds and smells, and by the time we left he was already asking when we could come back. It was, by any standard, a great field trip.

Where did we go? The city dump.

Now I suspect the local landfill is not normally your idea of a good time. You go there when you have to, and otherwise you just don’t think about it. But for a 2-year old, it was a magical place, a place where all the garbage trucks, bulldozers, and giant dumpsters were gathered together, a place unlike anything he’d ever seen before. For Andrew, the dump was a destination.

With his innocent sense of curiosity and wonder, Andrew showed me a new way to look at a mundane place. As adults, we have a hard time seeing familiar things with new eyes. The longer you live in your home, the more you start to dwell on what needs remodeling, taking for granted its amenities. The longer you’re in a job, the less you appreciate the highs and the more you get bogged down in the lows. The better you know something, the less you’re able to see it in a new way.

Unfortunately, the same is true of how we see people. As life goes on, we start to think we have nothing left to learn about people; our impressions of them become set in stone. We trust our eyes and our past experiences to judge people we don’t even know, assuming we can distinguish who is and isn’t worthy of our time, attention, and kindness.

But if you think you get it right every time, you’re fooling yourself—sometimes the most put-together people are actually empty inside, and sometimes God accomplishes incredible things with the last people you’d expect. God doesn’t see people through the lenses of generalizations, prejudices, and initial impressions, He looks at the heart of every person and draws His judgment from there. If we are to be obedient to Him, then we ought to do the same.

After all, even a dump can be a destination if you’ll look with eyes of grace. In the kingdom of God, a shepherd can be a king, a fisherman can be an apostle, and a carpenter can be the Christ. God sees beyond the outward appearance of a person to their heart—may the children of God do the same.

Something Worth Seeing (Friday Devotional)

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

- John 4:7-10

One of the quickest ways I can deduce the quality of a restaurant is by looking at its clientele. If everyone there is in their 20s, then the place is definitely trendy but may be better suited for Instagram than lunch. On the flip side, if everyone there is past retirement age, then chances are I’ve found a place whose best days came when I was in diapers, a place serving more nostalgia nowadays than creativity. If I go to an ethnic restaurant and every customer looks like me, I know to look elsewhere for an authentic dining experience. If I go to a so-called greasy spoon where everyone’s on break from their white collar jobs, that’s another red flag. You get the idea.

The way a restaurant immediately gets my attention is when the customers can’t be pigeonholed into one category. If a table full of maintenance men is seated next to a booth of executives catty-corner to a table of stay-at-home moms, then I’m interested. When I hear multiple languages being spoken in the restaurant, when I see multiple neighborhoods represented, when the college radical is as comfortable as the retired veteran—that’s when I know that there’s something worth seeing here.

The trouble, of course, is that there aren’t a lot of places like that. We are living in a time and place in which, sometimes unwittingly and sometimes willfully, we find ourselves segregated more and more from people who look, think, believe, and behave differently than we do. A yearning for comfort and security combined with the means to isolate ourselves has made it possible to go to schools, stores, events, and churches where we always fit right in—and where the ‘wrong kind of people’ stick out like sore thumbs.

What we have to remember is that Jesus didn’t just come for the ‘right kind of people.’ Jesus dined with religious leaders, but also with prostitutes. He loved his family, but he also loved lepers. The gospel he proclaimed, practiced, and embodied was not reserved for a privileged few, but was good news for the poor, freedom for the prisoners, and sight for the blind. The kingdom of God was never meant to be monochromatic.

The sinless, celibate, Christ could hardly have been more different from the Samaritan woman with five husbands in her past and a live-in boyfriend—yet those differences didn’t stop him from offering her living water. The disparities in their backgrounds were no match for the grace of God. As followers of Jesus, we must remember, respect, and replicate his willingness to reach beyond the boundaries of the comfort zone. A restaurant cannot be the only place where God’s people spend time with people different from them. There are ‘Samaritan wells’ all around you—if you’re going to bear witness to the gospel, then it’s time to drop by one sometime.

June Reading Log

Now that I'm settling in to our new home and new church, I'm getting back into the swing of things, reading-wise. Here's a look at the books I spent time with the past month!

3 Articles I Like This Month

"Stephen Colbert on the Political Targets of Satire" by David Marchese, The New York Times Magazine. 19 minutes.

When I agree with him and when I don't, I have a great deal of respect and admiration for comedian and Late Show host Stephen Colbert, and he is always a terrific interview. This one is no exception. My favorite quote from it: "Faith is not trying to change God. Faith isn’t trying to change the order of things. Faith isn’t trying to maintain your position. Faith isn’t trying to make less of the other. Faith is asking God to change you."

"Christ and the Camps" by Caitlin Flanagan, The Atlantic. 6 minutes.

The best piece I've read about the ongoing crisis in U.S. migrant camps, bar none. Whatever you think about President Trump or immigration, this essay does what I wish we all would: focuses on the children, like Jesus would.

"Why Donald Trump Will Win in 2020" by Joshua Whitfield, The Dallas Morning News. 4 minutes.

The clickbaity headline notwithstanding (the physical newspaper had a different headline), this article is not really about Donald Trump, and definitely isn't about partisan politics. It's about the societal shift toward the demons of our nature instead of the better angels, the willingness to accept an agreeable narrative instead of objective truth. Whether you like the president or not, I encourage you to read what this essay has to say.

BECOMING A WELCOMING CHURCH by Thom S. Rainer
WE WANT YOU HERE by Thom S. Rainer

You gotta love free books, especially when they're helpful. Becoming a Welcoming Church, which I picked up at the Baptist General Convention of Texas's Annual Meeting earlier this year (only to find another copy waiting for me on my first day on the job at South Garland Baptist Church), is a short, simple look at small steps churches can take to make sure they're being hospitable to visitors. Every church, author and former Lifeway CEO Thom Rainer notes, thinks its welcoming, but the proof is in the pudding.

If I had to describe the two big takeaways, they would be these: a hospitable church cannot be sloppy and a hospitable church cannot be unsafe. Whether you're talking about the parking lot, the signs (inside and outside the building), the website, or the children's area, visitors notice whether or not a church has its act together, and a church that plays fast and loose with safety or cleanliness loses people long before the sermon starts. The things that longtime members take for granted (for good and for ill) are new for guests, and every church owes it to themselves and to the kingdom to look at things from the perspective of a visitor.

We Want You Here is a companion book, one Rainer wrote so that churches could distribute it as a free gift to visitors. Essentially, it's 80 pages restating the book's title over and over again, promising that at this church visitors are important and respected, and that this church wants to show you God's love. Nothing wrong with the message, but its so generalized that it rang false to me. After the first 10 pages or so, I skimmed this book more than I read it.

Becoming a Welcoming Church, while occasionally feeling more like a book about customer service than ministry, nevertheless offers excellent tips for churches big and small, as well as some good resources in the appendix. We Want You Here is headed to Half Price Books, where I suspect they'll give me exactly what I paid for it.

THINKING THROUGH PAUL: A SURVEY OF HIS LIFE, LETTERS, AND THEOLOGY by Bruce W. Longenecker and Todd D. Still

This was a first for me: I read a textbook cover to cover. But with Todd Still—dean of Truett Seminary, a world class New Testament scholar, and a dear friend and mentor—as one of the authors, I had determined a few months ago that this was a book worthy of more than just occasional reference work. So in daily 30 minute increments (albeit delayed for several weeks by a vacation to Europe and move to Garland), I worked through the book, learning and reviewing the life and thinking of the apostle Paul. By the end, my experience largely mimicked the classes in which I sat under Dr. Still's teaching: I was both better informed and eager to apply what I'd learned to the work of ministry.

The first section of the book is probably what I'll return to the most, a basic biography of Paul. Drawing primarily from Paul's letters, secondarily from Acts, and finally from extant sources and archaeological findings, Still and co-writer Bruce Longenecker weave together a coherent biography of the apostle from his early life in Tarsus to his conversion on the road to Damascus to his missionary journeys and eventual death in Rome. Tackling questions where it's difficult to reconcile different parts of Scripture (particularly Acts' account of Paul's journeys versus what we can piece together from Paul's letters), the writers do an able job both of presenting the different theories and of stating which they believe to be most likely. The biographical section is extremely helpful for pastors and teachers needing a reminder on the details and chronology of Paul's life.

The second section addresses the New Testament letters attributed to Paul. Acting as sort of mini-commentaries, these chapters do a good job dealing with issues of authorship, providing background information, explaining the general themes of the letters, and ultimately giving a linear (but not verse-by-verse) breakdown. As a reference tool, I'd say these chapters fall somewhere between a study bible's aids and a full length commentary—they are scholarly but necessarily broad. Most helpful in my opinion is the work the authors do in laying out the book's big themes and how they connect to Paul's larger theology.

The final section deals with exactly that, Paul's overall theology. It is here that Still and Longenecker seem to have two goals in mind: 1) to explain in typical textbook fashion what Paul believed and 2) to clear up some common misconceptions about Paul's thinking. In both areas they do an excellent job, defending Paul from modern criticism when warranted while never losing sight of the primary goal: teaching, not debate. This section of the book is one I can see myself returning to again, particularly in preparing longer studies on Paul's letters.

Overall, this is an essential reference work for anyone wanting to learn more about Paul—and to my delight, was pretty easy to read straight through! I knew I'd be pleased by Drs. Still and Longenecker's work, and I was not disappointed.

THE YANKEE YEARS  by Joe Torre and Tom Verducci

I so wanted to enjoy this book, and I really thought I would. Tom Verducci is one of my favorite sportswriters, a legend whose Sports Illustrated articles are some of the finest baseball writing the magazine's ever seen. Joe Torre is a man and a manager I greatly admire. And the period being written about (1996-2007) is when I came of age as a baseball fan. So by all rights, this book should have been perfect for me.

....it's just not very good.

The first problem comes when Verducci (because, despite Torre getting first billing, this is clearly Verducci's book, with Torre providing anecdotes and quotes) describes Torre's first five years as manager of the New York Yankees, a period that saw the team win 4 World Series in 5 years, a level of success that hasn't been matched since. The descriptions of this period are pure historiography, where by Verducci's accounting, Torre and his acolytes could do no harm. Players like Derek Jeter, David Cone, and Paul O'Neil (all of whom, perhaps not coincidentally, provided Verducci lots of access) can seemingly do no wrong, and Torre is portrayed as having a golden touch for managing personalities, game strategy, and leadership. Are these Yankees teams worthy of praise? Of course. But the unbridled praise and two-dimensional storytelling gets old fast.

Then, from 2001-2007, the book suddenly shifts from a "let us now praise great men" story to a tell-all, with Torre providing juicy anecdotes about unpopular Yankee players, chiefly Alex Rodriguez. If Verducci has nothing bad to say about David Cone and Co., he has nothing good to say about A-Rod, balancing every begrudging nod to his talent with three or four jabs about the star's inability to fit into the clubhouse and his off-putting need to please. I'm not a big A-Rod fan (though my bitterness over his departure from the Rangers has mostly subsided), but Verducci and Torre's cattiness had the opposite of the intended effect, making me sympathetic to a player who won two MVPs in New York but never won over the fans and media.

Throughout both sections, Verducci is weaving a flat narrative about the 'Yankee Years' that paints Torre as the captain of the ship, whose brilliance guided the Yankees to success and whose record suffered in later years only because the front office stifled his authority and charted a new course. It's a narrative that works in some parts, but undoubtedly overstates Torre's impact and turns complicated men like GM Brian Cashman into cardboard villains. For as talented a storyteller as Verducci, it's inexcusably lazy.

The Yankee Years was an easy but frustrating read, because I know it could have been so much better. If you want to see the old-school conventional wisdom about that period in baseball history solidified, this is the book for you. If you want some original thought or complexity, look elsewhere.

YOU SHALL KNOW OUR VELOCITY! by Dave Eggers

I'm beginning to think I just don't like Dave Eggers' writing. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, his debut memoir, was fun but a little precious for my taste. The Circle, his cautionary tale about Internet privacy, was an easy read but too on-the-nose. What Is the What, his story about the Sudanese Lost Boys, was a well told tale, but one that never really landed for me. Zeitoun, his journalistic story about a Syrian-American man who rides out Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, is probably my favorite of his books...at least until his largely heroic account of the protagonist was discredited by a first degree murder charge and a stalking conviction. So by the time I opened up You Shall Know Our Velocity!, I think it's reasonable to say I'd already given Eggers a fair shake. Unfortunately, this book was perhaps my least favorite of the bunch, a meandering novel that never reveals its point.

You Shall Know Our Velocity! is ostensibly the story of two friends, Will and Hand, who go on a globetrotting journey to distribute $32,000 to random strangers. This strange trip is Will's idea and is seemingly coming as a reaction to two traumatic events, the death of their best friend Jack and a savage beating Will recently suffered. As you progress through the first half of the book, you witness Will and Hand bounce between mishaps, meetings with interesting strangers, and more.

But then, nearly 2/3 through the book, there is a 50 page section in which the narration shifts from Will to Hand and [spoiler alert] Hand tells you that much of the foundation of the book is totally untrue. There is no Jack, Will invented him for unknown reasons. Same with the beating Will suffered before the trip. Will's mother, whom he calls multiple times on the trip, has been dead for years. So what you've got is an unreliable narrator, either Will or Hand, and the last hundred pages of the book does nothing in my estimation to clear up who's lying or why. So a device that was intended to intrigue the reader instead left me profoundly frustrated and, as I got closer to the end, less and less invested.

Just to make sure I'm not an idiot, I read several Goodreads reviews of the book and, as best I can tell, even the people who love the book can't really tell you what it's about other than vague inspirational platitudes about living life to the fullest. Sorry, but after 400 pages I want more than that. Dave Eggers, I've given you a lot of chances, but this sinks it...I respect your impact on contemporary literature, but you're just not my cup of tea.

ESSENTIAL TOMB OF DRACULA VOL. 1-2 by Marv Wolfman, Gene Colan, et al.

The 1970s were a golden age for horror at Marvel Comics, which was doing its best to seize on a cultural fad that movies like The Exorcist and books by Stephen King had stoked. Some of these comics I've already read and reviewed (and there are more to come, specifically Essential Monster of Frankenstein, Essential Tales of the Zombie, and Essential Werewolf by Night Vol. 1-2), but Tomb of Dracula was without a doubt the crown jewel of Marvel's horror oeuvre.

Written and drawn almost exclusively by Marv Wolfman and Gene Colan, respectively, Tomb of Dracula is a rare case of a villain being able to carry his own title, with Dracula facing off issue after issue against a motley cast of heroes. From Rachel van Helsing (descendant of Bram Stoker's vampire hunter) to Quincy Harker (ditto) to Frank Drake (a descendant of Dracula himself) to Blade (in a 1970s getup that the Wesley Snipes movie wisely veered away from), none of Dracula's foes ever come close to matching his inherent charisma or power. It takes no time at all for you, the reader, to find yourself rooting for Dracula when he faces off against these would-be protagonists.

What's remarkable in reading the 50+ issues contained in these two volumes is that the stories never get redundant. You'd think that eventually story after story about Dracula fleeing and ultimately overcoming his hunters would start to get dull, but Wolfman and Colan keep things fresh with new locations, new characters, and a reliance on the serialization of comics (while each issue's main story is typically self-contained, secondary stories often run for years without resolution). Relying on Bram Stoker's classic novel for background information, but never making themselves slaves to it, Wolfman and Colan slowly create their own Dracula mythology that is fascinating to watch unfold.

Worth noting: Gene Colan's criminally underrated art is incredibly well suited for these stories. His Dracula is an imposing, dynamic figure, and his portrayal of the dark lord is probably one of the chief reasons why I found him so much more compelling than the heroes I was ostensibly supposed to be rooting for.

If you like classic horror stories told with tongue planted firmly in cheek (especially as the title matures and figures out what it wants to be) and with a bent toward action, this is the title for you. And compared with the other Marvel horror books I've read so far, it's an absolute masterpiece. Two more Essential volumes to go; keep an eye out for more Dracula next month!

Running in Church (Friday Devotional)

But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”

- Matthew 19:14

“No running!”

Over the course of Vacation Bible School this week, I’ve heard those words shouted again and again to children making their ways through the church hallways. It is, of course, a perfectly sensible command. First and foremost, we want to make sure nobody gets hurt. Furthermore, we don’t want anybody to get so far ahead of their class that they get lost. Finally, we want to instill a proper sense of reverence in the kids, an understanding that this is God’s house and it’s worthy of more respect than a playground.

So whenever I’ve heard a weary teacher telling one of their kids to stop running—or when I’ve said it myself—I’ve fully understood the valid reasons behind the instruction. But as the week has progressed, hearing those words over and over has also made me ask myself a question: when was the last time I was so excited in church that I wanted to run?

You see, the children who have raced down the halls this week have all had something in common—they’re happy to be there! They’re in a rush to get to their next activity. They’re eager to catch up with their friends. They’re excited to see what more the Lord has to offer. And so they do what children have done since the days of Jesus—they run to him.

As adults, we tend to favor moderation and restraint; we try to disguise what we’re feeling because we’re afraid of standing out or looking silly. But children don’t share our hesitation—they are beautifully reckless in their affections. And while our adult sensibilities tell us that enthusiasm needs to be tamped down, Jesus says something else: “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”

God loves you with the fierceness and audaciousness of a shepherd who leaves the flock of ninety-nine to chase after one lost lamb—and He longs for you to love Him the same way. He wants your eyes to light up with wonder when you worship. He wants your heart to swell when you pray. He wants the church to be a people of joy. Ours is not a God who wants reserved, cautious faith from His people—He wants us to come to Him like little children do, full speed ahead. In other words, for all the importance of safety and reverence, maybe we could use a little more running in church.

Reflecting on the Problem (Friday Devotional)

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst.

- 1 Timothy 1:15

In 1908, with political alliances fraying in Europe and rumblings of war already beginning, The Times of London posed a big question to some of the leading thinkers of the day: “What is wrong with the world?” The answers were as varied as you might expect. Some pointed to political instability, others to social issues, and some scapegoated specific leaders and groups of people.

But it was the response of G.K. Chesterton, one of the most renowned Christian writers of the 20^th century, that is remembered today. Asked what was wrong with the world, Chesterton’s response was succinct:

“Dear Sirs,

I am.

Sincerely, G.K. Chesterton.”

When we think about problems—whether in our families, our churches, our nation, or our world—we rarely take Chesterton’s perspective. We look outward before we turn inward, ready to find fault and cast blame. Sin is something we are victimized by, not something we are guilty of. Other people are the problem.

But the apostle Paul took a different perspective. Instead of seeing himself as the hero of his story, he understood himself as the worst sinner of all, someone utterly unworthy of salvation on his own merits. When he thought about his past deeds, his present temptations, and the inadequacies he struggled with every day, he could only draw the same conclusion G.K. Chesterton did 1,900 years later: he was the problem.

But Paul didn’t need to despair any more than Chesterton did in 1908 or you do today—because while we are the problem, Jesus is the solution; Christ came into the world to save sinners. The grace of God is great enough to save even the worst of sinners if you will come to him in repentance and faith, trusting him to redeem you.

When problems rear their ugly heads, sin tells you to look anywhere but the mirror, to find someone you can blame, someone you can condemn, someone you can hate. But sinners saved by grace ought to have a different perspective, looking with humility at our own culpability and then seeking forgiveness and redemption. Instead of leaping to judgment in times of turmoil, may we turn first to reflection.

Sleeping Through the Sirens (Friday Devotional)

Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.”

- Luke 10:30-33

This past Sunday started and ended as a lovely, sunny day. But as everybody in North Texas knows, the afternoon was another story. For about half an hour, all you could see was a torrent of wind and water, as 70 mph gusts blew pouring rain in every direction. Trees bent sideways to their breaking points, debris flipped down the street like tumbleweed, and every car on the road either pulled over or slowed to a stop in the middle of the road.

And I slept through pretty much the whole thing.

After a morning that had started at 4:30 and included preaching in two worship services, I came home wiped out, ready to take a good nap before returning to church for the evening. But when Lindsey and I laid down to rest, we heard the rain pounding on the ground outside, so we went to see what was going on. After staring at the storm for a few seconds, dumbstruck by its violence, I nevertheless shrugged and went back to bed. Just as the tornado sirens began to blare outside, I drifted off to blissful sleep.

Sometimes it’s tempting to go through life like I did that afternoon, ignoring the storms we think are beyond our control. The attitude is that if a crisis isn’t my problem or my family’s problem, then it’s none of my concern.

But in Jesus’s famous parable of the Good Samaritan, we are given a biblical correction to that mindset. In the story, an innocent man is beset by robbers, beaten, and left for dead, only for two different men, both religious leaders, to then come across the man and choose not to help him. Whether because they feared for their own safety, because they were worried about becoming ritually unclean, or because they simply couldn’t be bothered, neither man was willing to make somebody else’s problem his own.

Only when a Samaritan—the least likely person to be the hero of a Jewish story—came upon the scene did help finally arrive. The Samaritan, far from disregarding the crisis before him, was moved with compassion and took extraordinary steps to help this stranger, going so far as to treat his wounds, take him to a nearby inn, and pay for the duration of his stay there.

Jesus makes clear from the story and the command which follows it—“go and do likewise”—that your neighbor’s problem is your problem, that mercy is not something reserved only for your inner circle. The call upon every follower of Christ is to practice grace as he did—generously, ungrudgingly, and without partiality. When storms are raging outside, believers can’t just sleep through the sirens.

The world is frequently a frightening, complicated, and dangerous place, and we don’t have the time or the resources to solve every problem—but that doesn’t give us license to shut our eyes, plug our ears, or throw up our hands in despair. Instead, look to the Good Samaritan’s example, refusing to walk away when God puts you in a position to help. Only one man could be the Savior—but you can be a neighbor.

Your Power Source (Friday Devotional)

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up the other; but woe to one who is alone and falls and does not have another to help.

- Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

There are few everyday stresses which can match the instant anxiety produced by a low battery alert. Whether on your phone, your laptop computer, your iPad, or some other device, the sight of the battery icon suddenly turning red is enough to send anyone frantically searching for a charger and an outlet.

The trouble is, unless your device is brand new, one charge rarely seems to be enough to get you through the day. If I want to be able to work on my laptop throughout the day, I’ll almost certainly need to plug it in while I’m working or it’ll die mid-morning. If Lindsey and I want to watch a movie on her tablet after dinner, we’d better have charged it at lunch. And as for the ever-present smart phone, sometimes it feels like it only has two locations: its charger or my hand.

No device can run on its own power forever—and no person can either. Nevertheless, some mixture of pride, social pressure, and desperation makes us try to get through life with as little help as possible. Somewhere along the way we decided that individual accomplishments were more important than community accomplishments, that going it alone was nobler than sharing the work, the credit, and the rewards.

But like an electronic device, we simply weren’t built to run on our own power forever. God created us for relationship, both with Him and with our fellow human beings. That’s why God gave the first man a partner in the Garden; that’s why God’s promise to Abraham was that he would become a father to many; that’s why Jesus passed his mission on to an assembly of followers—a church—instead of a singular heir. As God says in Genesis 2:18, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

One of the greatest lies we’ve ever been told is that you can’t count on anyone but yourself, that the best life is the one built solely on your own strength, wits, and capabilities. The truth is that God calls us to give to one another and receive from one another—He doesn’t want us to be a collection of individual Christians, but one united church in Him. So as you go into the weekend, ask yourself: am I reaching out to others, or pushing them away? Am I willing to rely on what others have to offer, or am I stubbornly trying to go it alone? Am I running on my own power, or am I drawing from a power greater than myself?