Mr. Tweed-Suit Man: At Your Service

Over 10 years ago, 2013, it was my first year at EDUPRIZE Charter School in Gilbert, Arizona. It was the beginning of the school year, which meant most of Arizona was God's oven and we were his delicious cookies, hoping to not to melt. But it wasn't the heat that had me worried. On this particular Friday afternoon, we had a half day with the students, and the second half of the day was meetings with the staff. This staff meeting included a special announcement:

"One of the great honors of being one of few A+ rated charter schools in Arizona," our principal began,

"Is that we are a model school for other principals and administrators to look to for ways to improve their own school and also get that A+ rating that we already have." 

She paused.

I gulped.

She continued, "Next week, we're having principals from other schools tour our school, and some of them will pop into your classroom for a visit. Since you're the reason our school gets that A+ rating, we want you to show them how it's done." She smiled that warm smile principals are known to have. I did not share that same smile at the time.

Are you kidding? This is the beginning of my second year. I'm a rookie! No way they're going to see me as the reason we're getting A+ marks. In fact, the reason we have an A+ is because the evaluators haven't been in my room yet! 

I'm not sure if I thought those very words at the time, but I remember being nervous and not having the kind of confidence needed to blow anyone's socks off. But, they were coming, and I had no choice but to pray that they'd either not come in my room or God would come down and turn water to wine - or some kind of miracle that would allow me the opportunity to escape the work day embarrassment-free.

After a sleepless weekend came and went, I was as ready as I could be. Monday morning also came and went, and I was able to breeze through the lessons without worry because there were no visitors popping in; no adults accept me. It was heavenly. I was thankful because it looked like I would escape the day unharmed by these upper-level visitors. I'm pretty sure their workday would be just as productive if they just searched "Incredible teachers" on YouTube and watch those videos, then tell their staff to be like them. Why do they have to come to my classroom to see what cool teachers do in the classroom? I'm not suggesting principals and superintendents are awful people (after all, I got hired by one), but they have expectations and probably drive Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs. In addition, most of them have gone through multiple certifications, all of the teaching positions, and various forms of experience in the school system before being hired into the position they currently held. For them to be inspired by me, I need to show them something amazing. Isn't that how it typically works? While their expectation was to see a great teacher in action, my expectation was that these visitors were the Grim Reaper, and this experience would be the death of me. 

Then the door opened to my classroom. Here we go.

I just started my reading lesson, and in walks a bald man with glasses and brown tweed suit with matching pants. He had a yellow visitor sticker on his right pocket, and he pulled up a chair in the back right corner of the room.

He just watched. The same thing a visiting principal would do. He was clearly that man.

It was my time to shine. Time to put my big-boy pants on and make my principal, my parents, my future kids and their kids, proud. I knew I couldn't toss him out of my classroom, so I did what I knew was best.

I walked over to this tweed-suit-man and introduced myself. 

"Hello, welcome to our school. My name is Mr. Fitz." Get ready to have your mind blown, I guess, I thought.

"Nice to meet you," he replied, standing up. He held out his hand to shake mine. Nice and strong. He had the handshake of a principal and even sounded like a principal. Obviously he ran a school 20-30 minutes from mine, and he probably ran it like a champ.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No, I just wanted to stop in and see how it's going."

"Absolutely, and we're glad you're here!" I replied outwardly. Inwardly, Why me? God help me.

Boy, did He. I decided to go rogue from my written plans and put all of my best training to practice. Spring Arbor University, my Alma Mater, would be proud. Kids 20+ years into the future would be proud. I ran reading centers, made my expectations for the kids clear, infused technology and art into the lesson, and cracked jokes to keep the kids entertained. I did what administrators know as differentiated, monitored students' progress, and managed the behavior and discipline like a professional parent. It was incredible and still ranks in my top-10 best lessons taught to this day.

After I took a moment to catch my breath from the spectacular performance, I noticed the principal standing up to get my attention. 

"Wow, that was amazing. It's good to see my daughter's teacher in action -- oh, I'm sorry --" the tweed-suited man interrupted himself. "I didn't introduce myself...

I'm Ron. Ron Moller. Allison's dad."

Allison's dad? As in, parent of one of my students? I thought. 

I wanted to slap him. Of course he couldn't introduce himself as Allison's dad at the beginning. Of course he had to wait until the end of my spectacular lesson to finally tell me who he really is. My reading lesson was so good, it would be the top video trending that administrators would find on YouTube if they typed "Incredible Teachers" in the search bar and hit enter. 

But who was it for? Who was I trying to impress?

Allison's dad.

Forget he students, I did all of this performing and doing what great teachers did for Allison's dad.

All this man wanted to do was watch me teach his daughter how to infer using quotes from a passage. He wasn't even visiting to help me grade assignments, hang art on the wall, teach a mini-lesson on story structure, or show my students how to juggle. He was there, on the same day principals and administrators were also visiting classrooms mind you, to be convinced his daughter was in good hands being educated by me. 

I don't blame him. He loves his daughter, wants what's best for her, and desires for her to get the best education a 5th grade teacher could offer her. And it's highly unlikely for him to know other schools were coming by to check us out too.

I blame myself. 

After all, I was not hired to inspire parents of fifth grade students. I was not entrusted 25+ students so that their parents could be in awe of my detailed weekly newsletter, amazed by my communication via e-mail and telephone, and be taken aback by my ability to thoroughly conduct parent-teacher conferences with the confidence of a 20-year veteran educator. So, why was I trying so hard to impress Mr. Tweed Suit Man? I knew in my heart I was teaching because I wanted to make the student's lives better, not a late-30s man in a suit watching me teach for the first time. It was meant to be, "Hello Students, Mr. Fitz, at your service," not "Hello Mr. Tweed-Suit Man, Mr. Fitz, at your service." A subtle distinction, but important.

Unfortunately, Mr. Tweed Suit Man is a representation of how easy it is to lose sight of the real mission. Allison's dad symbolizes every time I get swept up in how I am perceived by others in order to gain their approval. Forget how God sees me and the important role he has me playing when I am trying so hard to impress the Tweed Suit men of my life.

Sometimes he is disguised as my wife. Sometimes my boss, or the parents of students I teach. Even myself, perhaps. I often try so hard to prove my worth - to prove I am enough, that I deserve to be a teacher of children. Worse, I continually reflect on my work and tell myself it wasn't good enough even if I have plenty to smile about. 

No matter who dons that suit and sits in the classroom of my mind and heart, I spend so much of my energy devoted to pleasing that person or people, that I forget who I should actually be doing the best work for. Under the topic of teaching, the obvious answer is that my best work should be done for the students. After all, they learn best when I put my best foot forward. 

However, even the kids should not be primary reason why I do the work to the best of my ability: "So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31). It may sound cliché, but when we allow our daily mission statement to be to reflect the glory of God in everything we say and do, it changes our inward mindset and outward posture. Our view of the day is seen through the same lens of God. Our problems, obstacles, and issues seem miniscule in the grand scheme of God's design. Even our victories are only a small fraction of the bigger picture God has in mind.

What does this mantra of doing everything for the glory of God look like on a day-to-day basis? Answer: The theme song of my childhood, sung by none other than my dad. 

This is the day
This is the day

This is the day that the Lord has made

That the Lord has made

I will rejoice

I will rejoice

I will rejoice and be glad in it

And be glad in it.

I couldn't tell you who sung the song, and I am almost certain it didn't win a Grammy, but it doesn't make the message behind it any less powerful and true.

What resonates with me about this song is what it emphasizes. We can all rejoice in anything to the point of idolizing it. According to Merriam-Webster, rejoice means "to feel joy or great delight," so if we want to rejoice in a great Netflix documentary or having a three-day weekend to celebrate an obscure holiday, we could. But this song is emphasizing who made the day and taking delight in it. Dallas Baptist University** defines glorifying God as "to mirror His image, which is to love, and to love generously, as he does." I believe God takes great delight in what he made, and if we are to take delight in each day he made, we are mirroring his image by loving what he loves in the way he loves it. This song takes my heart and mind back to why I even try to be my best in all I do. 

Secondly, Matthew 22:37 says, "Love the Lord your God with all of your heart, and with all of your soul, and with all of your mind." Loving the Lord looks like being your best with the right motives, motives that glorify God. Solomon once prayed to God, "Give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong" (1 Kings 3:9) - as the story goes, God granted wise Solomon this wish, and gave him a lot more than just what he asked for, making him the richest king in human history. Solomon doesn't ask God to give him the power to please the man in the tweed suit with a mind-blowing lesson plan, or to move up the corporate ladder. No, he asks that God will give him a discerning heart. Why? It glorifies God.  

For me, glorifying God is taking delight in each day as an opportunity to serve the students with incredible opportunities to learn and grow; glorifying God is using wisdom to distinguish between right and wrong so I can help the students know the difference too. It's not about the man in the tweed suit, gaining national notoriety, or making more money than needed to survive. When it becomes about my own advancement, it changes who I serve and glorify. My god becomes about me, my agenda, and making my needs the highest priority when I take my focus off of God and how to glorify him. This is what caused the downfall of Solomon. He took his eyes off of honoring God and instead focused on how his wealth, prosperity, and position could make him his own god. At some point, the tweed-suited man distracted Solomon from what initially crowned him king.

If you struggle with fixing your eyes on God and using your life to glorify him, it helps to identify the tweed-suit man in your life. Maybe you've got great intentions, but your motivation is wrong. For example, me putting together the right lesson plan that was flawless is a noble endeavor, but doing it to impress who I thought was the principal of another school was wrong. Or maybe, you're in the muddy part of life, deep in sin and rebellion and you desire to put to death those ugly habits that overshadow a life protected by the love of the Father. In the end, you're not glorifying God, but the flesh.

In either case, a good starting point is to recognize where you stepped away from God and what caused it, then allow God to train your heart and mind to turn to him rather than the motives of the flesh. As you dig deep into this heart change, don't forget to put on an attitude of gratitude, rejoicing in each day that the Lord has made. 

I try my best to make each day at school about the kids and glorifying God by how I teach them, but I'll admit, the tweed-suit man often comes through my heart and mind and likes to toy with it. Sometimes, he comes in the room in the form of my boss, and I begin to craft my lesson around pleasing her. Though I do tend to lose focus on the mission at hand: honoring God through the way I teach and love my students, I am grateful for the infinite opportunities to come back the following day stronger than the days leading up to it. 

Through God's grace, I can refocus my attention back on who I am here to serve:

My Lord Jesus Christ. 

At your service.

**"Christ: Our Model for Glorifying God" - https://www.dbu.edu/

Spiritual ADHD: Asking Dumb Questions, Forgetting God, and How to Stop Doing Both

Having worked over a decade at the same charter school, in the same grade (5th), with the same academic standards, and virtually the same 8-10 minute drive five days a week and 180 days a year, I have had my fair share of experiences with students I have taught in year's past come back to visit me in my classroom: three feet taller and hopefully a profusion of knowledge in that ever-growing brain of theirs. I have also experienced kids much younger than 5th grade, approach me at school practically yelling, "Mr. Fitz! My sister was in your class!" And while the confidence they have to approach me in such a manner is inspiring and their excitement to chat with me is flattering, I am not as hard on myself for forgetting who it is I am talking to compared to when it comes from a former student five years older and three feet taller.

After all, there was once a time when I taught them 30+ hours a week, 180 days out of the year. All that time, and the best I can do is think, Who are you and why do you look so familiar? My logic is, if I truly formed a solid bond with that student, I should know them by name no matter how many years passed. I should recall vivid memories, because my entire year was formed around molding that child academically, socially, and emotionally.

I'm not one to forgive myself quickly and easily, especially in the aspect of teacher-student relationships. I pride myself in my ability to connect with the students in a friendly, silly, encouraging way that reminds them they matter and are seen, heard, and most importantly, considered a valuable part of the classroom and the world. So when I forget, it feels like I never connected with them when they were in my classroom full time. Then I feel worse. I should know this student because I put my time and energy into loving them, I think to myself. 

Then I consider the disciples, who are just like me, and it becomes so much easier to forgive myself for these blunders.

Throughout the New Testament, there are numerous "I forgot" moments the disciples have in Jesus' presence: ones where Jesus must have been thinking, Have you gone mad? Are you deranged? Like a coach should have unswerving confidence in his players representing the team, I'm certain Jesus had a similar attitude towards his disciples. But sometimes you have to wonder why Jesus chose them in the first place.

Consider one example. Jesus revealed to the disciples the suffering, unforgivable torture, and eventual death he would endure after being arrested and placed in the hands of the chief priests. Peter staunchly replies that it will never happen to Jesus, no way no how. Anyone who had ever read this part of Matthew knows what happens next. Without hesitation, Jesus calls Peter, "Satan" and a "Stumbling Block" (Matthew 16:21-23). Can you imagine being the other 11 disciples in that moment? You could probably hear a rabbit munching on a carrot in the nearby garden of Gethsemane. Matthew probably whispered "No he didn't" to Phillip to cut through the awkward silence like a sharp knife.

"Glad I didn't share what I was thinking," one disciple. "Did he call him Satan?"

"Do you actually think Peter is Satan?" Another disciple.

"Suspend him without pay," a third disciples whispers.

"Bro. We're not getting paid," pause. "Wait, are you getting paid?"

"Someone give Petey a hug. He needs it." 

"He needs more than a hug...if you know what I mean."

"Andrew! You naughty dog!"

Regardless, Peter's famously bold statement that caused Jesus to call him Satan is not the only incident that would cause most to wonder what was going through the minds of the disciples, who gave up their old lives to spend every waking moment walking with Jesus and getting to know him. After all, if you were to invest all of that time, effort, and energy following Jesus' every footstep, listening to every word, and copying every behavior, you should be able to discern what to say and not to say during his most tense moments.

But this moment is not just a stand-alone. Peter acting a fool is not an abnormal incident where a disciple misspoke and expressed a thought that was misaligned with Jesus' mission - and it's not just Peter.

Enter Phillip, another one of Jesus' disciples, who had a whoopsie moment in front of Jesus. A "You've been with me all this time, and that's the best question you've got?" kind of moment. In fact, I'm pretty confident my translation isn't too far off from what was actually said.

In John 14, we see Jesus sitting with his disciples, talking to them and preparing them for the future - a future, mind you, without Jesus' physical presence. Fortunately, the disciples had already spent a lot of time with Jesus up until this point, so there would be no reason to believe what teachers in the school setting would try to avoid calling a "dumb question." But, as most, if not all teachers know, dumb questions do exist, and Phillip proves just that. 

He asks a dumb question.

I'll also happily admit that I tell kids the only dumb questions are ones that have already been answered less than 5 minutes prior. What's wild is that Jesus insinuates Phillip's question is profoundly dumb because Jesus spent his entire journey with the disciples answering the question Phil asks. Take a look:

"Phillip said, 'Lord, show us the father and that will be enough for us.'

Jesus answered, 'Don't you know me, Phillip (you know it's real when he calls him Phillip, not Phil), even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'?" (John 14:8-9).

There is so much unpacking we can do here, but to stay on point, this is exactly what Spiritual ADHD looks like, because Jesus essentially tells Phillip, "Where have you been?" Maybe Phil didn't forget - maybe he was just afraid of what a post-Jesus world would look like. Or maybe through fear, Phil forgot who Jesus is and what his mission was when he was on earth. Either way, Phil's woopsie moment goes down as one of the Hall of Fame "I Forgot" moments.

***

While it would be easy to lambaste Phil for asking such a disrespectful question, it would be even easier for Phil to criticize us for our lack of faith and understanding. After all, we're the ones living in an age where streets are abundant with churches we can freely worship in without condemnation and a prison sentence awaiting us. We're the generation that has WiFi access, Bible apps and Christian e-books just one click away. Don't care for digital books? Go to Amazon and have a physical book delivered to your door in less than one week. You are not frowned upon for loving God; in fact, enter any church and you likely find someone else who wants to walk the spiritual journey with you - and speaking of walking, you don't have to. You can drive, and if you can't, you can find someone who does. The point is, most people don't have restrictions to their faith the way the disciples did back then.

And we have "I forgot" moments like Phil did all the time. Even in a society where the Bible and Christ-inspired believers, pastors, and authors are right around the corner, on the internet, and within our friend groups just a text away, we still forget how mighty, loving, gracious, powerful, and wise God is. We forget that He is on our side, and He does not just have the answer...

He is the answer.

So, how do we avoid falling into these "I forgot" moments that so many of the disciples got swept up in?

1. Seek Christ with your entire being: "Those who seek Christ, shall find him," according to Matthew Henry Commentary on Luke 24, "he will manifest himself to those that inquire after him..." 

Since I have worked at EDUPRIZE for a while I have seen many faces - most of them I know because they spent approximately 180 days in my classroom. The students I see outside of the classroom are on the way to dropping my students off at specials (PE, Computers, Science, Music, etc.) or at lunch, when other younger grades are outside as well. Because I am not engaged with these younger grades on a daily basis, they know my name but I often don't know theirs when they shout mine. 

God's Word promises we will find Him when we look, and unlike my EDUPRIZE interactions with kids I do not know, he knows your name! When we abide in him and store our treasures up in Heaven, not on our earthly problems, he will manifest himself to us - what an incredible gift! 

2. Limit time spent "admiring the problem": Do not confuse this with 'considering' the problem. Yes, we do need to consider the problem, but as a means to an end. Problems should only garner attention in order to come up with adequate and appropriate solutions. When we're confronted with spiritual ADHD - lack of focus on our solution - we should spend more time developing solutions through God's wisdom rather than focusing only on the problem and its deadly ripple effects. As Kaye Otten and Jodie Tuttle says in their book How to Reach and Teach Children with Challenging Behaviors, "...we need to use [time] wisely, focusing more time on problem solving than problem admiring." Though Otten and Tuttle's book applies more to children and their misbehaviors in the classroom, we can easily apply this rule of thumb to how we approach our spiritual journey with God. 

From my own experience, sometimes I get so wrapped up in my problems, I fuse God to them and make myself believe that He takes delight in engineering my problems just to make me miserable. Out of uncontrollable anger and unrelenting negative emotion, I demand God do something in my favor, rather than trust Him that He is already doing something far greater in me than I can ever ask or imagine. In the end, I expend far more energy fighting against God rather than allowing his wisdom, guidance, providence, and everlasting love do the fighting for me. 

 If we are patient, slow down, and admire Him, we might find the solution faster than we can fully reflect on the problem.

3. Believe God is Smart Enough - "...What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived --- the things God has prepared for those who love him. These are things God has revealed to us by the Holy Spirit." Sounds too good to be true, right? It is, but it is also true - it's found in the Bible: 1 Corinthians 2:9-10. For context, Paul says even the rulers of the earth couldn't understand it. 

One evening, I met two friends of mine for coffee. The goal in meeting was to uplift one another through prayer, Biblical wisdom, and general anecdotes that relate to our prayer requests. 

One of these friends is the type of guy who has the gift of words. You know the type; their prayers are Hall of Fame conversations with God - fueled by intense emotion, commanding enunciation, and an exceptional string of vocabulary words that I would never think once to use in my prayers. You would think he rehearsed these prayers before showing up to our bi-monthly meetings. As we were nearing the end of our meeting, he shared that we need to "believe God is smart enough." On my 16-minute drive home, my friend's exhortative words rang loudest of all of the wisdom he shared.

Believe God is smart enough.

Even if you did use over 35% of our brain, any version of intelligence you can think of does not come close to what God has planned. But how often, when confronted by a problem, especially those enormous ones that don't seem to go away, do we only use ourselves and everyone else except God. Mostly, we get down on our knees by our bedside when we're at our wits end, down to our final straw, and spending our last $6. We don't use God and his infinite wisdom first. He is usually our last resort.

I am not comparing myself to God here, but it reminds me of when a child misbehaves because another student "made him do it." My typical response is, "Why didn't you come to me before it got worse? I could have helped you navigate through the problem without you getting into trouble!" Like any student who misbehaves in response to another student's behavior, we are always responsible for how we respond. If you agree that God is smarter than you and I, raise your hand. I'm sure you raised your hand as your staring at these words, because of course he is. But we don't. So often we don't.

We can approach the throne room of grace...and find grace to help us in times of need (Hebrews 4:16), or not go to God in the middle of trial. God lovingly gifts us with free will, so the bottom line is: Did you go to God? Or did we forget how intelligent and wise he is? 

***

Maybe you don't give God enough credit in your day because you only seek God when it's convenient, you admire the problem too much, you don't believe God is smart enough to solve your problems, or a combination of the three. Or maybe, "none of the above" is the reason you're forgetting that God made you, he loves you, and he knows you by name. 

Is Jesus asking you the same question? "Don't you know me...even after I have been among you such a long time?"

Your desire to pursue him does not weaken or strengthen his desire to pursue you. Unlike me not knowing the little ones' names when they say hello to me at school, God knows you and wants you to know your problems can be solved because He is smart enough. 

"If you seek Him, you will find Him." 

You will also find the answers you're looking for. 

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.