Copycat: The Valley and Mountaintop

Every mountaintop comes with its valleys (taken in Oregon - November 2025)

No offense, but if you haven’t heard of Bluey, an animated show about a dog family, and the main character is a six-year-old – Bluey – who has a younger sibling (Bingo) and supportive parents who have as creative of an imagination as her, then you lived under a rock up until this very moment. I also forgive you if you’re not a parent or grandparent of a toddler in 2026, otherwise your chances of not knowing anything about the show just went up.

 

For me personally, it is an inspiration for how I can aide my own young son’s blossoming personality and imagination without sabotaging it. The show’s creators do an amazing job depicting Bandit, the father, as all-in and constantly coming up with games to engage his kids. Nearly every episode shows him actively participating in whatever Bluey and Bingo’s imagination concoct for that episode.

 

In one episode, Bluey wants to play Copycat, and the episode begins with her doing exactly what her dad does right when he gets up for the day. She does a remarkable job, until she spots an injured bird. Immediately, her instincts to care for the less fortunate kick in and puts all of her focus on caring for this bird.

 

Chances are high that if you’re a parent, you’re not going to spoil it for your child – if you do not have a child, you likely don’t care enough about the outcome of one Bluey episode to worry about whether I provide spoilers or not. Of course, if you do care regardless, don’t read further.

 

Here’s the spoiler: the bird dies.

(I promise it's a show for kids)

 

This is important because it looks to completely derail Bluey, and what child wouldn’t be?

 

Then, Bluey decides to do something that changes the trajectory of the episode: she plays Copycat with Bingo, her younger sister, and Bing plays the bird. In the episode, this is clearly Bluey’s way of coping with the pain. Bingo, like any young sister not older than preschool age, does little to follow the script, and it aggravates Bluey because she wants it to be identical to her bird experience with her dad.

 

She wants it to be the exact same.

Early on, when Bluey and her dad find the bird, the bird nips at dad and in response, with fist clenched, he whispers to himself, “Toughen up, Bandit!”

 

At the beginning of Bluey’s Copycat activity with her younger sister moments later, Bluey tells Bingo she has to nip her, like the bird did to Bandit. When Bingo bites Bluey, she tells Bingo that was not a nip, but then she whispers to herself, “Toughen up, Bluey!”

 

At this point, you’ll just have to watch the episode. At the end of the episode, while mom and Bluey are sitting on the porch steps and Bingo is flying around like a living bird even though she should be pretend “dead,” dad reminds Bluey that she forgot to stop copying him.

 

“Oh yeah!” She says, though she makes no attempt to keep the game going.

 

Yet, throughout the episode, she does copy dad, even when she is pretending Bingo is the dead bird. Not only does she tell herself to toughen up like her dad did, but when both Bluey’s dad and her found out the real bird died, Bandit said, “…there’s nothing we can do. It’s out of our hands.”

When Bingo stays alive as a pretend bird and flies around, Bluey initially gets frustrated because they are supposed to pretend as accurately as possible. When mom connects the dots and asks, “That’s not how you wanted the game to go, is it?”

 

“That’s okay. There’s nothing we can do. It’s out of our hands” – exactly what dad said.

 

When we have an amazing experience with Jesus, we want to copy him and everything he did and does. We want to change everything in our own lives and the lives of others, which is a noble desire.

But, because we are not God, we often come across points where we don’t intentionally mimic the way of Jesus. Oswald Chambers calls it, “the drudgery of the valley” versus the height of the mountaintop. When we have a breathtaking experience with God, whether in prayer, worship, long walks in nature, etc. these are mountaintop experiences. The valley is where temptations, humiliation, slip-ups, and un-Christlike behavior is likely going to occur. In addition, it’s also where it feels like there is distance from God – struggle, hurt, pain, obstacles, etc. But just because we’re in the valley, there’s no law against taking the Word of God and his presence with us. In fact, this is precisely what God wants.

 

When Bluey was temporarily interrupted from her time with her dad and focused on the bird, then with Bingo acting like a pretend bird, she didn’t forget her dad’s words. They were “hidden in her heart”, like Psalm 119:11 says.

 

Maybe the injured bird of your life places you smack dab in the middle of a valley you never wanted. Who does want a valley? Maybe you shout, “This is not how it is supposed to go!” But then you remember to “Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding,” (Proverbs 3:5-6) or to “not be anxious about anything but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God…will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7). Bluey took her dad’s words and applied them to her own life when she felt like she was on her own in dealing with her pain. The words of her dad pulled her through the valley of losing a bird she cared for and about.

 

Chambers adds, “The last time you were on the mountain with God, you saw that all power in heaven and earth belonged to Jesus. Will you see it now in the valley?”

Little Chopsticks: The Finger of Doom

The Finger of Doom even terrorizes my Frenchies 

May 2026 was a big month for our son, Calvin – 14 months at the time. He gained multiple skills like finally crawling with his hands and knees instead of his forearms and his legs dragging across the ground like he’s in the Vietnam War. “This isn’t the army, Calvin” I would think to myself.

 

He also acquired the skill of picking my nose.

 

I call this recent development “chopsticks.” 

Now, chopsticks refers to anytime he pokes at something with one index finger or both. But telling you the nose-picking story out of all of the things he has been poking within his first two years of being alive is the most fun to tell. 

 

With mouth gaped open like he’s trying to disarm a bomb and the focus of a lion crouching low in the African savanna for his next meal, Calvin will whip out his chopstick fingers whenever I am laying on the ground with our offspring on top of my stomach.

 

Imagine for a moment that you are laying in a field facing the clouds, and as your heart is filled with contentment and gratitude, you see a balloon come into view from the left corner of your peripherals – you don’t move your head, but the balloon casually invades your view as it drifts off into the distance.

 

Calvin’s fingers are like that balloon. Instead of being a balloon drifting off into the stratosphere, it attacks you. From my view, I see an innocent pair of fingers, one on each hand, hovering above my face. Little do I know that in few seconds, those same fingers are looking to either do some dental work in my mouth or stab the very back of my nostrils.

 

Some days, when he decides to play dentist, it looks more like he dumped the ingredients of a delicious bowl of ramen in my mouth and is proceeding to mix it together with his fingers like they are utensils. Other days, I wind up with a bloody nose after he heads straight to the back of it with his little finger.

 

One day I was reflecting on this recent “skill” he developed, and I thought about how incredible God must be to already instill a sense of intense focus in our one-year-old boy. Nowadays, it is difficult for me to stay focused on one task at a time; yet someone who is 36 years younger than me is already focusing better than me.

 

Then I naturally got to thinking, What if I focus on God like this? What if the way Calvin’s fingers find their way up my nose can be applied to how I pursue God – with intense deliberation and focus.

 

I believe long before my nose started bleeding, Calvin already decided he was going to send his finger on a mission to see what was inside the deep, dark abyss of his dad’s nose. What if, long before my day starts, I decide to send my mind and heart on a mission to allow God into my day, my thoughts, and my conversations with others? What if I allow my ears to hear the heart of God and the Truth of Scripture and what He says about me to penetrate my mind?

“…letting the Spirit control your mind leads to life and peace,” Romans 8:6 says.

“Think about the things of Heaven, not the things of Earth,” Colossians 3:2 commands.

In my other post, “Larry, the Wise Racquetball Ghandi,” I mentioned how Larry told me “I play better when I don’t think about the last shot.” So much of my life is focused on the last shot that I derail my momentum with God. I lose sight of him in the midst of all of the chaos I stir up in my brain.

 

Corrie Ten Boom once said “If the Devil can’t make us bad, he will make us busy,” and when I am busy putting all of my attention on trying to do things on my to-do list, solve problems throughout the day, and worry about things in the future, without God, it creates the chasm the Devil wants to keep building. He loves to interrupt God’s plan, and if we let him provide us with a convincing argument to not think of the things of heaven, then he’ll come up with reasons that distract us.

 

If you ever feel that God is out of view, you just need to “pick” your way through the outside noise and ground yourself in the Truth of who God is and how He sees you. Sure, what Calvin is after (the back of my nose) and what you’re after (closeness with God) are likely two different things, but the same means to each end can be exercised: deliberation and focus to achieve what you’re seeking. 

 

The good news is there are plenty of resources to use to develop and maintain the habit of being close to Him and grounded in the Truth.

 

First, be honest in your dialogue with God. Second, immerse yourself deep in Scripture, and third, surround yourself with people who challenge you in your faith and remind you to be in lock step with God.

 

Who knows? After developing these habits, you might be as focused as my son is at picking my nose.

Elmo, The Hippocampus, Paul, and God

Have you ever been in a Kohl’s or Target that is closing in 10 minutes and you’re one of 3 customers left in the store? You know it’s closing soon even without the intercom reminding you to head to the checkout lanes because that’s when the smooth jazz or Bruno Mars comes on. Sometimes, you wonder if you’ve heard the song before but don’t remember where from.

 

Well, I can now say I have entered into new territory when it comes to niche places to have music enter your brain and get stuck in the depths of it.

 

It was June 1^st, 2026, and my brain was playing this faint melody was doing that “smooth jazz when Target is closing” again. Only this time, I was at home and realizing there’s no way to look up the song when all that’s playing is the beat in my mind. Even as I write, I have drawn the conclusion that I can’t even write the beat down without the lyrics helping that beat come to life.

 

Though we usually remember him as helping toddlers with the ABCs, teaching us about how bees protect their queen, and interacting with other puppets on the famous Sesame Street, Elmo helped me in an unusual way: remembering the song that was stuck in my head.

 

Aside from changing poopy diapers, cutting up sweet potatoes into chewable sizes for a baby’s mouth, and playing Bluey on repeat for several hours, having Elmo’s “Letter of the Day: A!” song stuck in my head rather than any song an adult would hear on the radio is the ultimate indicator parenting season is here and there’s no turning back.

 

The point is, God designed the brain this way on purpose. What our senses capture – whether it’s hearing, tasting, feeling, sight, or smelling, our brain reminds us what we sensed. It’s why people who see something they wish they didn’t say, “I can’t unsee that,” or they cringe when an unwanted song comes on because they’re bound to spend the rest of the day trying to dislodge it from their brain – but too late, it’s stuck there.

 

By now, it sounds like God is using the brain to torture us, but here’s the truth:

It’s about what we choose to put inside our brain that counts.

 

According to WebMD.com, “[The Hippocampus’] largest job is to hold short-term memories and transfer them to long-term storage in our brains.” Outside of memory, the Hippocampus is also responsible for learning and emotion. WebMD also points out that since the Hippocampus of the brain deals with memories, and memories are involved with every day life, it plays an important, complex role. Therefore, it can “talk” to other parts of the brain, and it needs to if it deals with such a vital part survival. For example, we need to rely on what we remember about cooking if we want to feed ourselves. If we get a deep cut in our arm, we need to rely on memory and learned behavior to provide aid to the cut so it doesn’t become an infection. Or, in the corporate world, we need to rely on not only what we recall from memory, but our ability to adapt and learn better ways of doing the same thing if we are to remain effective in the work place.

 

One example from my own life of my senses developing a short-term memory into a long term one is when I bought the Newsboys album, Thrive (this was the Peter Furler Newsboys that I grew up listening to 20+ years ago) right before Spring break around 2002. I was in eight grade, and my family and I were headed to Gulf Shores, Alabama from Michigan in our little minivan, and that entire trip and this album will have an eternal bond that no one can break. When I hear “Million Pieces,” “Live in Stereo,” and “The Fad of the Land,” I am immediately transported back to the 2002 on 21^st floor of our condo overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. The sound of the album creates the long-term memory I had of Alabama and the fun times created there. It brings the memories from 25 years ago to the front of my mind like I went there just last month.

 

Back to Elmo, if I spend enough time with him through watching Netflix episodes, or listening to his music on Spotify, then his voice is going to play a big role in my brain and his catchy tune will transport me back to the many other times I listened and/or experienced Elmo.

 

When Paul wrote to the church in Philippi, his desire was for the people to focus on good things; in so many words, to fill the Hippocampus with things of God: “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” (Philippians 4:8-9, NLT) But then, he adds this zinger: “Keep putting to practice all you learned and received from me – everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then the God of peace will be with you.”

 

I believe this: to allow Elmo to truly invade the Hippocampus of my brain, I need to listen and put his words to practice. More fitting would be if my toddler listened to Elmo’s catchy song, then practiced what the little red puppet monster sang in the song. Next thing you know, Calvin is speaking in full sentences by two years old because of Elmo’s hit song.

 

Or, in my case, put people like Paul in my life and fill my day the words of God on a daily basis that draws me closer to the Truth and what God says about me. The Hippocampus wants and “thrives” off of connection with God. Why wouldn’t it? If Paul is as connected to Christ as he says in all of his letters – in Acts 20:24, he says, “None of these things move me…so that I finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus”) – then if the church in Philippi would be wise to practice all they “learned and received from [him].”

 

Choose today to fill your brain with Paul’s words, Jesus’ words, and the words of God. Choose today to surround yourself with people who love God deeply. Fuel your Hippocampus with memories with the Lord, and let it transfer those short-term memories to long-term.

 

“…Then the God of peace will be with you.”

 

According to Paul

 

“What’s the letter? Clap, clap. What’s the Letter? Clap, clap.”

 

According to Elmo.

 

Larry, The Wise Racquetball Ghandi

       

             Sometimes you watch the Jeep who cut you off in traffic is the same one you watch get pulled over, and sometimes you get pulled over instead for retaliating when the Jeep cut you off. Sometimes you get cut from the basketball team when you watch the kid who cheated on the math test get a starting role on that team. Sometimes you hit the game winning home run, and the next day you strike out three plate appearances in a row. One day you sell $25 of lemonade and the next day you barely crack a dollar.

 

               And while we love to say “Life’s not fair!” as if it will immediately cure our sulky moods, we simultaneously suit up for another day of life’s up and downs, because as upsetting or joyous they can be, they are just as unpredictable too.

 

               I didn’t get pulled over recently, but me getting pulled over for getting cut off took shape on the racquetball court back in April 2026. Although it would be neat to drive around like a maniac on a racquetball court, that’s not how it went. It involved life not being fair and me throwing a gigantic fit about it. You know how it goes: you throw a fit, embarrass yourself and possibly burn some bridges in the middle of your tantrum, then realize it isn’t remotely as big of a deal as you thought after you’ve had a full-scale meltdown.

 

                Have you ever played racquetball? All you need is a racquet, a blue rubber ball, and glasses to protect your eyes. A glove for the hand you use to put your racquet in is optional. Let me spare you the detailed rules and put it this way: try to hit the ball towards the front wall with your racquet in a way that prevents the opponent from returning the shot before it bounces twice.

 

                Regardless of whether or not any of that made sense, I’m sure you can relate to doing something that is designed to be fun, but turns into a day you wish you could do over the second you think about it. If you’re like me and think you should be able to crush everyone in the sport because you play 3 times a month for less than a year, you have to work extra hard to not take a humbling loss personally.

 

                At this point, it would be best to introduce Larry, a fitness nut who, let’s just put it politely, doesn’t move on the court the way his age suggests; and without revealing his age directly, his kids are around my age. Yes, Larry is much older than me but moves on the court like he’s younger than me – and it’s frustrating. I should add that he’s on my wife’s side of the family, but in a lot of ways, he’s like a father figure to me. Don’t get me wrong, my own father far exceeds the average father, so I don’t need an extra father figure in my life because I need an exceptional father. However, it’s nice to know God blessed me with numerous father figures in my life that I am not related to by blood, and Larry is one of them.

 

            Back to racquetball: he pulls off shots that can only be successfully executed if you’re retired, play games against semi-pros, and don’t mind getting absolutely decimated by better players with the sole purpose of learning from them to get better.

 

            In summary, I just described Larry and a big reason he demolishes me every Saturday morning for two hours.

 

            He doesn’t complain, pound his racquet against the wall, and throw tantrums like I do, yet he’s the one who should be getting angry when he messes up because he’s put in far more work than me. Yet, he’s a calm as a cucumber with its sunglasses on. If I could read his mind, he would probably be thinking, onto the next shot, and that’s where his mind goes because he plays just like it.

 

            When I learn from him, it’s less about racquetball and more about composure and not letting the humility that comes with losing the point turn into embarrassment from how you respond to the humbling moment. Don’t get me wrong, he also teaches me techniques, strategies, and location of shots, but I learn the most about behavior on the court based on how he plays.

 

            Larry once told me that the best racquetball players he’s played against “never think they’ve got it all figured out. They believe they could always get better, and they are constantly learning.”

 

            Whether it is intentional or not, Larry is speaking straight from Scripture, which has a lot to say about being humble and learning no matter where you’re at in life:

Instruct the wise and they will be wiser still; teach the righteous and they will add to their learning.

                                                            Proverbs 9:9 (NIV)

            What I believe this verse is saying is simple: Wise people are coachable; righteous people never stop learning.

 

            But to learn, you need an attitude that matches it. I have discovered the hard way that my antics on the court do not give me the opportunity to learn – you can’t learn when you let your emotions carry your head to another place of personal offense.

 

             In fact, the times I get close to beating Larry, or experience the rare opportunity to beat him, my approach to each point is what helps me execute and finish strong. In one of our racquetball meetings, Larry told me, mid-game, “I can tell you play better when you don’t think about the last shot. You slow the game down and let it come to you. I can tell it helps you stay in the game.”

 

            Being coachable and humble slows the game down because you take time to learn from every shot, good or bad. The shots I refer to are not just exclusive to the court. At work, when I get caught up in the to-do list and having to rush through all of it, I can tell I get impatient with my students. When I breathe, take time to learn from my day, and rest – slowing things down – I approach my students with more grace, energy, and love.

            Don’t stop learning and growing. Don’t let the speed of life discourage you – instead, listen, add to your learning, and develop wisdom along the way. Larry has taught me a lot – not just through pickleball. I hope I use each opportunity I have with him to learn from his own experiences and how he approaches life.

 

            I also hope God has given you or gives you someone to learn from, because he has a funny way of bringing these people into your life.

 

            When they do step into your life, be glad they did: it is often God’s way of saying you need to learn a few things.

More Than a Child's Play Thing?

 Have you ever been confronted by another human who tried so hard to convince you that you are not a space ranger? That you’re just a human? Maybe not, but there is a lot more in common with you and Buzz than you think.

Toy Story has a lot of aspects that I love about it, number one being that the concept of toys being living things when the humans are not present is such a classic idea for any sort of film. It is also one my entire childhood identifies with: I played with all of my toys like they were educated, English-speaking humans who lived their daily lives the way humans do.

 

Sometimes, my sister and I played with Barbies and Hot Wheels cars/Legos the exact same way Toy Story portrayed the relationship between living toys and the human race. She would play with the Barbies like they were real human beings, and I would use my Lego collection to pretend they came to life when no one was looking and use the cars as their transportation.

 

Mostly, though, we didn’t incorporate the toys becoming fake again when humans were around, but we did give our Beanie Babies, bead lizards, Hot Wheels Cars, stuffed animals, even Kohl’s models we’d cut out of catalogues lives, personalities, jobs, hobbies, and adventures they’d go on every free moment we had to play with them. It was what our childhood imaginations gave us when video games, television, and Rollercoaster Tycoon on the PC were only limited to 30 minutes a day. God bless my parents for helping us develop such strange, yet creative imaginations.

 

For example, my little sister and I pretended the staircase leading from the second floor to the main floor was a gigantic waterfall only comparable to Multnomah Falls directly south of Seattle (which I’d recommend for anyone who loves hiking, amazing views, and/or waterfalls). While the fake waterfall did what real waterfalls do, our Beanie Babies, for reasons unknown to this day, were all trapped on the edges of that waterfall, and the only way they would survive is to make it to the top of the stairs.

 

To make matters more interesting, each step filled with our favorite Beanie Babies were backstories and pieces of information pulled directly from our brains about each Beanie Baby. Information about how they got there, their level of motivation to make it to the top, and how willing they were to help the others out were shared with great energy, enthusiasm, and detail. If you’re thinking we wouldn’t last 20 minutes until we got bored, you’re wrong. We would take a break for dinner, but if anyone messed with our setup, we would excommunicate them from our lives.

 

The second thing I love about Toy Story is the depth the director goes into with character development. The older I get, and the more I watch it, the deeper I go into the minds of Buzz, Woody, and any toy that has a more than three lines in the movie. For example, the average viewer would say Woody is jealous of Buzz being so much better than him and all of the other toys. But the reason Woody is jealous is only revealed to the audience member who strategically performs an exegesis on the movie and the main characters. I guess you could do an exegesis on Mr. Potato Head, but it might be more difficult than, say, Buzz or Woody. My theory is Woody is jealous of Buzz or any other modern toy replacing Woody, which means Woody has some abandonment issues that a therapist needs to take him through – especially considering that literally every toy (even Bo Peep) loves the addition of Buzz except for Woody.

 

Recently, I watched Toy Story with my 5^th grade class and there is scene that stood out to me among the rest – to me, this is representative of what makes Toy Story so special: the more you watch and rewatch the film, the more that is revealed to you. To set the scene, Woody and Buzz are trapped in Sid’s room, and Sid is still asleep. Either Sid is missing school again or it’s Saturday, but since Andy is also home and it’s right before the big move, I lean towards it being Saturday. Buzz is strapped to “The Big One,” the firework that Sid planned on blowing Buzz to smithereens with the day before but the weather postponed the event. Woody was about to be the one who is strapped to the firework right before the rain delayed Sid’s plan, but he makes it to a blue milk crate in time to hide while Buzz, depressed from learning he is not just a toy, but a toy that can’t fly, receives his rocket fate without fighting it. In fact, Sid is right about to head out to the backyard to follow through with the plan until rain comes pouring down. Sid winds up his alarm clock and goes to sleep, which gives Woody time to give Buzz a pep talk that eventually snaps him out of his depressed funk and leaps him, rocket strapped to his back and all, into action:

Buzz: No Woody, for the first time I am thinking clearly. You were right all along. I'm not a Space Ranger, I'm just a toy, a stupid little insignificant toy.
Woody: Whoa, wait a minute. Being a toy is a lot better than being a "Space Ranger."
Buzz: Yeah, right.
Woody: No, it is. Look, over in that house is a kid who thinks you're the greatest, and it's not because you're a Space Ranger, it's because you're a toy. You are his toy.
Buzz: But why would Andy want me?
Woody: Why would Andy want you?! Look at you! You're a Buzz Lightyear! Any other toy would give up its moving parts just to be you! You've got wings! You glow in the dark! You talk! Your helmet does that, that, that whoosh thing! You are a cool toy! As a matter of fact, you're too cool. 

When I watched this scene with Buzz and Woody, and I take out the fact that Woody spends a majority of this film acting petty, insecure, and constantly compares himself to a toy out of his league, these lines sound a lot like me talking to Jesus trying to convince him I’m just some stupid, insignificant person who can’t shock the world with my amazingness. Then Jesus responds by redirecting my thoughts to believe in what is true.

I’ve spent a majority of my life playing the role of both characters, Buzz and Woody. Not because I think I landed on Sector 12 instead of Earth, or I think I can fly, or I have a string attached to my back that says, “There’s a snake in my boot” when pulled. I have shared the same mindset as Woody, who lost sight of himself when a shiny, new toy with better gadgets and lights shows up on the bed; he even admits it at the end of the scene mentioned above:

“As a matter of fact, you're too cool. I mean, what chance does a toy like me have against a Buzz Lightyear action figure? …Why would Andy ever want to play with me, when he's got you? I'm the one that should be strapped to that rocket.”

 

When I’m not Woody, I am Buzz refusing to accept who he really is because he has been programmed to believe he’s something he is not. Does Buzz have control over it? That’s for another blog; however, like Buzz, I am blinded by lies. I believe what makes Toy Story 1 a masterpiece is that these two toys with incredible strengths and weaknesses are bonded together over time, but they both are so relatable to how I behave when I wander from the truth about how God sees me.

 

The ultimate point is this: even if I am a space ranger, that’s not what makes me amazing. Andy doesn’t love Buzz because he acts like a space ranger, it’s because he’s a cool toy. God doesn’t love me because I’m a teacher, and he doesn’t love you because of your occupation. He loves you because he thought of you when he made you. He loves you because he put time into designing you just the way you are.

 

Furthermore, just because a space ranger shows up in my life, doesn’t mean I am less loved by God. Often, I do this with people who God has allowed me to cross paths with in my lifetime: I’m less awesome because Blake owns a Tesla and I don’t. I’m less distinguished as a teacher because my fifth grade team is all caught up on grades but I’m not. I am not a good father because my wife knows what  to feed him and I still don’t. Lies. Just like Woody believing he’s being replaced because he doesn’t have a laser pointer on his wrist, wings that pop out of his back, and a space helmet that covers his face at the push of a button, among the many other buttons.

 

Woody or Buzz,  I am just like both, whether I am refusing to accept my true identity, even if it is much better than being a Space Ranger, or I am busy comparing my existence to someone completely unrelated and worrying about being replaced. Either way, both mindsets are built on a foundation of lies, causing me to stray far from the truth I should just staple to my forehead at this point:

Psalm 139:14: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

 

If I am pointing fingers at anyone, it’s me. I spend so much time crafting the perfect classroom – when one piece gets ruined, or my day doesn’t match my vision when I created the lesson plans for the week, I throw a tantrum similar to the one Woody has when they are stuck at the Dinoco gas station under the large semi-truck:

 

Woody: “This is the perfect time to panic! I’m lost, Andy is gone, they’re going to move from their house in two days and it’s all your fault!”

 

After Buzz tries to deflect blame back to Woody, Woody refuses to accept any responsibility and accountability for his own flawed belief:

 

Woody: “Oh yeah? Well, if you hadn’t shown up in your stupid little cardboard spaceship and taken away everything that was important to me –”

 

The path of lies Woody chooses to walk down causes him to isolate himself from a partnership with Buzz, who could ultimately help get them back to Andy. This same path also convinces Woody that thinking logically is out of the question and relying on blame to ease his mind is the only solution – in fact, it’s the reason the movie is over 1 hour long!

 

Imagine how the conversation goes if Woody let the Scriptures guide him:

Woody: “While I do feel sad and upset that I am separated from Andy, I trust Buzz and I can work together to get back to my owner. In fact, I could use this opportunity to form a bond with Buzz that will hopefully allow us to get back to Andy and even coexist in the same bedroom!”

 

Of course, then the movie would end 30 minutes into the film, but it’s a good reminder of how much drama I let into my own life when I forget my roots in Christ.

 

To be fully invested in what Christ thinks of me – to wrap myself tightly around the truth of how God sees me – is to remove any distractions from a life well lived. God’s truth empowers us, because when we are empowered, we step out in faith to look like Jesus in the midst of obstacles that come our way. The truth calms us when the pressure of the world around us feels to immense, and it grounds us when the lies feel too similar to the truth.

 

There’s no better way to conclude than to bring to the light one of the steadiest Toy Story characters in the film, Bo Peep:

“I know Andy’s excited about Buzz. But you know he’ll always have a special place for you.”

God is overjoyed when people live in his truth about them, but he always has a special place for you – after all, unlike Andy, he made all of creation, which includes you. Of course he has a special place for you, and you are irreplaceable.

The Race Set Before You

 

When you let someone or something cut in on your spiritual race, you run into a dead end - no prize will meet you at a dead end

Ask my parents to summarize my Chelsea High School Cross Country experience, and they will probably use words like “Shin Splints,” “Stairmaster,” and “Bath Invitational.” You might be asking, “What does Bath Invitational have to do with your experience in high school?” Bath Invitational was a Saturday tournament 58 minutes from my high school home, and I wouldn’t know how long it took to get there from the high school because I slept in that morning and missed the bus. See, the way it was supposed to go was my parents were going to drop me off at the high school so the bus would take me and my team to the event, but when your mind has already been made up about how much you hate running, your body follows suit in agreeing that sleeping in was the far better choice.

 

My parents would likely tease when they use those words because my attitude was always less than pleasant when it came to running. Shin splints was my number one excuse, and I would strategically bring it up to my coach after finding out we were running 8 miles in the humid weather, on dirt roads, nose deep in cow manure smells, and at an impossible pace that messed with your mind when you ran. I swear any sign I am crazy came from running cross country for two years and my coach yelling out his “Pain Is My Friend” mantra to motivate us.

 

Well, I was never motivated in high school.

 

So, I acted like my shin splints were worse than they really were, became closely acquainted with the Stairmaster to get out of running, and slept in through the ungodly early weekend tournaments against superior high schools.

 

Fast forward more than 20 years later, and it’s 2023. I just wrapped up my first 10k with a pace of around 9 minutes and 30 seconds, and I suddenly wish I didn’t use shin splints as an excuse. I also wish I didn’t quit Cross Country after 2 years.

 

This is what happens when you don’t allow yourself to see the good that God is producing through the pain. A lot like my experiences with Cross Country, Paul did the same in Scripture – he used running as a metaphor in our spiritual journey.

 

In Galatia, the church was being pulled in the wrong direction by false teaching – Galatians 1:7 says, “Evidently some people are throwing you into confusion and are trying to pervert the Gospel of Christ.”

 

When it came to the church, they were letting false doctrine cut them off from “running a good race,” according to Paul. This race is the closest metaphor for walking in step with the Truth of the Gospel and not letting shin splints and sleeping in deter you from walking boldly in the direction of the Gospel of Truth.

 

Currently, I am training for the next 10k, and whenever I make the bold decision to not let the next excuse distract me from doing what I set out to do, my mind inevitably drifts to wishing I stuck with cross country and even running after high school concluded. In my late 30s, I discovered I have “Runner’s Knee,” the unscientific way of saying I have arthritic knees. Training now means I have to use arthritis cream for both knees to reduce inflammation. Without slathering Voltaren on each knee before my runs, I can’t make it past ¾ of a mile before Runner’s Knee shows up and I feel the intense pain that makes me have to stop. I don’t regret needing the cream to train, but it does make me sad that I didn’t spend more time entering races and training for them when I didn’t have to use CopperFit compression sleeves, an inhaler for asthma, and the Runner’s Knee ointment.

 

Spiritually, I also find myself drifting to spiritual laziness from time to time, and when I want to start back up, I feel like it sometimes takes more work to get back into it. Don’t underestimate the power of spiritual momentum, because often the words God gives you in yesterday’s devotionals will apply to tomorrow, as often is the case with running and exercising. The times I train by running 4 miles will eventually help me run 6 miles races more smoothly.

 

Don’t let shin splints take you out of the race. We live in a world that is cloaked with distractions that feel better in the moment than running the race. Is it fun to wake up at 6am to prepare for a 3-mile run on the weekend? No, and I don’t think Paul and Jesus said that it would be.

 

They also did not say that’s why we do the running. We don’t run because it is always fun, but we run the race “so that we may obtain [the prize]” (1 Corinthians 9:24). The eternal prize is a life devoted to Christ, a life lived with purpose.

 

With running comes purpose, and when that purpose is directed to Christ, it is a life that follows his will. When the shin splints of life try to steer us away from running with Jesus – staying on the couch instead of getting out there – we let the world prevent us from running towards the eternal prize. We quit running before we even start.

 

The voices you hear that tell you to stop running, postpone it, or question why you do it are not of God. They are designed to derail your devotion to God’s will and direction in your life. Continue running, even when it is hard and the comfort of your couch feels better.