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.

Your Gethsemane vs. Your Agenda: Revisiting Your Priorities

 

Meet Diggs, a French Bulldog who is a bulldozer driven by a spatially unaware, uneducated, and unnecessarily aggressive brain. You may see a dog who loves his naps, but don't let his relaxed disposition fool you. Once you show any desire to play with him, he's like a little football player who has no off switch and will do anything to secure a loose football - like rolling back a wind-up car until you hear the loud clicking noise, then releasing it.

If those metaphors don't do the trick, imagine you have a squeaky red ball in your hand. Less than three feet in front of you is a drooling dog struggling to remain seated in an effort to get what he eagerly desires: to catch the elusive ball and show how inferior it is compared to him. If you were to put ADHD, obsessive compulsion, and squeaky ball idolatry into one animal, it would be Diggs. 

A story like the one above is only the tip of the iceberg full of stories that make our pup adorable, quirky, and unique from the rest of his canine counterparts. To say he has a personality is simplest way to describe him. His response to any toy would prompt anyone to reasonably ask, "What is going through Diggs' head?" The answer: "Toy" and "I will show I am better than toy." 

"Treat" and "Food" are alternatives, but we'll save these additional hobbies for another time.

The funniest, yet mildly most dangerous part about Diggs and his fascination for squeaky toys is how clumsy he is when the toy is dangling in front of him. He will jump, run over Stella, slide into walls, and even bump his head on coffee tables just for the pleasure and joy of claiming the toy as his own and proving he has control over it - even if it ends in an all-out tug of war competition. 

Unfortunately, what drives Diggs' ineptitude and unawareness is his overly aggressive, intense pace in which he lives his life. For example, his sister Frenchie, Stella, the smaller and feebler of the pair, will lovingly approach me in hopes for an encouraging "Who's a good girl," a pat on the head, a belly scratch, or any combination of the three. Once Diggs catches wind of this, he will go Bulldozer Mode into Stella to get an equal amount of attention, which is where I see his aggressive nature come out most.

Unfortunately, Diggs doesn't know when he's not careful, and he certainly doesn't know how to be more aware of his surroundings even if we gave him treats to help him. We can train him to sit and wait, which he does do while violently shaking like a K9 police dog being held back seconds before attacking a drug lord. But to tell Diggs to stop or calm down in order to master awareness would be like trying to teach a carrot to use self-defense before getting eaten. 

In fact, I have found that the only difference between training a carrot to use self-defense and Diggs to use manners through mindfulness is when I can promise him food 5-10 seconds later. Rarely, Diggs prefers his red ball over food, so food is a clear favorite no matter what. That being said, the only way he will voluntarily slow down the pace of his life is if food is in the deal.

At this point, you're probably thinking, "Duh. It's a dog. They don't think about mindfulness the way we do." I can't speak for you, but I often feel I am closer to Diggs' mindfulness level than I am to Gandhi. I am as impulsive as they come, especially when, right in front of my eyes, is something I really want to do or have. The moment a "toy" is dangling in front of me, I will do anything to grab a piece of it, even if I bump my head or plow into other people to get it. I lose all sense of what my priorities are in order to accomplish what I want or get what I am after. My wife calls it "fixation," and she couldn't be more accurate. When I become fixated on certain parts of my day, thoughts in my head, or the whereabouts of a misplaced item, everything else gets shoved to the backburner for a period of time; if longer than a period of time, my wife often has to dig me out of the mental and emotional mess I made through the unnecessary fixation grave I fall into. 

It would be unfair to put everyone under the same umbrella of impulsivity and mindless thinking, especially the type A personalities who can pridefully create a daily agenda and pound it out with perfection with little to no distractions derailing the schedule. But in a general sense, we live in a distraction-filled world more now than ever before. As Rich Villodas writes in his book, The Deeply Formed Life: Five Transformative Values to Root Us in the Way of Jesus, "Our world continues on, faster and busier, and we are reminded that our souls were not created for the kind of speed to which we have grown accustomed. Thus, we are a people who are out of rhythm, a people with too much to do and not enough time to do it." We may say we've nailed down the perfect routine, but the more we fill our days with things to do, the more other needs get pushed aside.

Unfortunately, and more often than not, our time with God is what takes the back seat; in fact, sometimes we even kick him out of the car altogether when we idolize other aspects of our agenda.

N.T. Wright introduces the paradox of living in union with God by writing, "It is only when we slow down our lives that we can catch up to God"* The more I ponder this concept, the more I identify with it. The rise of Social Media since the early 21st century (Facebook: 2004, Twitter: 2006, Instagram: 2010, Snapchat: 2011, VSCO: 2011, Discord: 2015, etc.) has sped up our lives. And it's not just social media and apps on 5G Wi-Fi that speed our lives up. On TV,  a shot that cuts to a new viewpoint on television changes every 7-8 seconds on average, according to a Salisbury University study. Even the way TV shows are filmed train our brains to expect our eyes to see things at a greater speed! However, the digital and technology age we live in is not the only aspect of our lives to blame - we organize our daily agenda to fit as much as we can within 24 hours; fast food restaurants, expedited shipping, and Instapot meals also aid us in our desire to go through the experience quicker so we can move on to the next item on our to-do list at the greater speeds than a gazelle being chased through an African Savanna. Downtime is seen as a waste of time, and resting from all of the hustle and bustle is seen as optional in an effort to be productive. In fact, I would go a step further and say the digital and technology companies and apps are as successful as they are because doing things more efficiently has always been a priority for the customer.

"What is efficient is not always effective," Bob Goff, author of his book Dream Big, writes. It's difficult to agree with Bob when the fast food, online shopping, and 5G Wi-Fi gives us every reason to believe our effectiveness has improved because these things make us efficient. However, Bob adds, "Love’s goal isn't ever efficiency; it's presence" - and if anything is eliminated from our agenda with the introduction of these hi-speed additions influencing our decisions, it's presence, because to be present, we have to slow down. How can you properly love the journey if you're constantly trying to find shortcuts? How can you build a proper relationship with those around you if your constantly cutting back on time in order to save it?

When Jesus was just a short time away from his death, he was "overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death" (Mark 14:34). What did he do? He went to be alone for an hour. An hour! My average prayer length is 3 minutes! Even when I'm journaling, meditating, or worshipping in song, I barely crack 20 minutes. If there were any example of slowing down in the Bible, this is it. Going away for an hour just to pray, which was the first thing Jesus said to his disciples before he went off to be alone with God (Mark 14:32), is quite impressive. 

If I were Jesus, I would be creating a to-do list, writing my last blog post, teaching one more writing lesson to my 5th graders, and cleaning the garage for my wife. Maybe I would finally delete all of the store promotion spam e-mails filling up my storage if I have time before the chief priests send people to arrest me. The point is, my go-to habit is to do something, knowing that efficiency is the motivation for doing it. I certainly would find it difficult to fit in 1 hour of prayer!

Most of my life, I have been told to be like Jesus and to read the Gospels to see how Jesus acted. If this is true, which it is**, then Jesus' moment in the garden of Gethsemane should resonate with us and teach us to do what he does to be in the presence of God. 

The world promises us the reward we get from speeding through it is efficiency. If Diggs slowed down and showed patience, he would be rewarded a treat or dinner at 6:25 instead of 6:27. The point is, Jesus knew slowing down his day to meet with God was a gamechanger, because he knew the reward that came with being with God was peace in the midst of chaos. "Abba Father, [Jesus] said. "Everything is possible  for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will" (Mark 14:36). Jesus knew meeting with God was a priority. 

Jesus could have filled that hour with more teaching, healing, hanging out with mom and his other loved ones, and preparing for his death by traveling around and sightseeing. I'm sure no one would have blamed him. Instead he brought himself and his heart before God in the stillness of the garden. 

Do we have this time allotted in each part of our day, or do we fill it with more of our agenda? Do we buy into the lie the world tells us that efficiency is always most effective and to fill your life with activities that are done quickly so you can have spare time to do more? 

In Paul's letter to the church in Philippi, he talks about the reward for knowing Christ, and to him, it far outweighs anything on his agenda. "But whatever gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:7-8). In other words, Paul has concluded that he has falling so deeply in love with knowing God that he is willing to purge his agenda, his past idols, and anything that stands between him and God just to walk with him.

This is what Bob Goff and N.T. Wright are talking about. To effectively know Christ Jesus your Lord," efficiency is not effective. "Slowing down to catch up with God" is the most effective and rewarding thing you will ever do with your life. Paul didn't say he wants to fit God into his busy schedule; he considered everything in this world garbage compared to knowing Christ. Garbage!  Therefore, make walking with God a part of everything you do, and that includes building Gethsemane into your day. 

Through seeking your Gethsemane with God, you slow down, and through slowing down, you find yourself knowing your Creator in ways you never thought could be possible. 

As a child, my dad referenced Psalm 46:10-11 a lot, and it is the perfect fit to close out:

"'...Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth.'

The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress."

Are you with him?

*Taken from Rich Villodas' book The Deeply Formed Life: Five Transformative Values to Root Us in the Way of Jesus, pg. 7, chapter 1.

**In John 14:12-14, Jesus told Phillip that those who believe in him will do what he has been doing; in Luke 6:46-49, Jesus compares us to a wise builder if we hear his words and do what he says but he also compares us to a foolish builder if we don't listen to his words and do what he says; in James 1:22-25 we are told if we don't listen to the Word and do what it says, it's as if we look in the mirror and forget our appearance when we leave.