Seat-Between Syndrome

I'm stoked to start up our Life to the Fullest guest post series this week! If you haven't already, consider submitting a post!

As a Christian, I notice a lot of odd phenomenon among our sub-culture of America.

For instance...

We "like" some pretty terrible music. Those who willingly participate in the  K-LOVE challenge are my primary witnesses to this fact.

We make things more complicated than they have to be. Oh, what's that, you say? Jesus had "disciples?" Why don't we just call them "students," 'cause, ya know, we speak English, not Bible.

We get caught up in the petty and often overlook the egregious errors of our ways. The horror that was/is the overlooked abuse of Jessica Ahlquist is enough to get us all to shake our heads in shame.

Most of these oddities are chronicled in the writings of Jon Acuff (over at Stuff Christians Like), but every once in a while, something slips through the cracks.

That something has been happening to me and many others for as long as I can remember. It's a condition of Christians that I like to call...

Seat-Beside Syndrome.

SBS, if you're lazy and don't want to type all of that (like me).

SBS has plagued churches across the nation for years. For as long as churches have been packed out, this has been a problem. And the only remedy to it is often an awkward announcement by someone up front that we all need to "scoot to the middle" of our seats.

Don't worry, though. You can easily self-diagnose whether you're at risk for having SBS by noting a couple of things next time you go to church (or any other social setting, for that matter).

Here's an example of the climate in which SBS thrives.

First off, do you find yourself looking for an empty row of seats (or even an empty section) to sit in during a church service? This isn't actually SBS, but is a symptom of a much larger problem.

Secondly, when you are relegated to sitting near other actual people, do you find yourself spreading your stuff so no one sits near you? Again, this is another very serious symptom of SBS.

Finally, when you do sit next to someone, do you experience a slowing of time, as if you may be stuck there forever? Do you experience feelings of dread at the thought of such an occurrence? If so, it is very likely that you may have SBS.

If you find that these three symptoms regularly apply to you, please seek immediate professional assistance. It is very likely that you suffer from SBS.

So what exactly is SBS, you ask? Well, it's simple. Here's how you actually diagnose the disease:

When you scout out your seat during a church service, you find the perfect spot. You approach the row of seats, only to find others sitting near there. So, without thinking twice, you allow your SBS to take over, and approach those people. You choose your chair and take a seat, again, without hesitation.

Now, after you've firmly staked out and claimed your seat of choice, diagnosis is easy. Are you ready for it?

If there are people two seats away from you, who aren't reserving any places around them, and you don't choose a seat next to them, but sit a seat down from them, then you have Seat-Beside Syndrome.

I know, I know. You're a little scared. You aren't sure what to do. Is there a cure? Will you ever be rid of this disease? Don't worry; I've got some answers.

Seat-Beside Syndrome is curable. In fact, it is often a signal of a much larger problem. We haven't been able to diagnose it yet, but research is being done at a breakneck speed to pinpoint the root cause. Here's what we do, know, though:

First of all, you might be scared of people. If this is the case, though, you probably already know it and very rarely go to social events (like church) in the first place. If this applies to you, then I have no words for you, since going to church would be enough of a struggle for you in the first place.

If this doesn't apply to you, then I've got some bad news. You, like myself, might just not like other people. Sure, friends and family are okay - they don't count as "others." But we really just don't care much for the person sitting (sort of) next to us.

It's sad, really. A body that doesn't cooperate or enjoy other parts of itself. Like a hand that refuses to grasp something because the thumb has a certain distaste for the middle finger (hence their separation by the pointer finger). Sounds ludicrous, doesn't it?

If you don't have SBS, then you're probably not sure what to make of this. But if you do, then you're probably saying, "Oh, I've heard this sermon before. Get on with it."

This is more than me preaching at us, though. People, we are messed up like no other. Not only do we shield ourselves from people whose beliefs are different from our own, but we put up defenses to avoid those who we claim to call brothers and sisters. It's embarrassing for those without SBS, to be frank.

You don't even have to get a shot to curse SBS!

So do yourself (and the rest of those people without SBS) a favor. Sit next to someone at church this week. Not near them. Not around them. Next to them. And then, maybe try out this thing that the guy you follow (Jesus, in case you forgot) proposed: loving them. And not in a "I don't have to like them - I only have to love them" kind of way. That doesn't even make sense.

For the sake of all of those around you, stop leaving empty seats between you and others. Take a baby step toward building up your community of faith. Next thing you know, you might actually enjoy sitting by other people. And before you know it, you'll be rid completely of SBS and all of its symptoms.

Unless, of course, you enjoy being sick. But take a word of advice from someone who's been there: if you don't treat a sickness, it only spreads and infects the rest of the body. If you don't take steps to remedy SBS, it is contagious and will affect those around you. It may even morph into a stronger disease that has no cure.

So let's vow to nip this in the bud. We know the disease (SBS), and we have a cure (true love), so let's stop it once and for all.

... ... ...

Questions: Have you ever thought about SBS before? Do you think it's a problem? Is it something you struggle with? What are some other peculiarities of Christians that you've noticed over time?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading! 

photo credits: Leonardini and emailrober - sxc.hu

Win of the Week

Did you hear about the epic guest post series we're starting up? The first post will be next week, so get your submissions in ASAP! Here's my e-mail if you're interested: awaller1990@gmail.com. And remember, you don't have to be a writer or a blogger to contribute!

If ever a week was a roller coaster, this one would be it.

Thankfully, the ride is just about over. The bar is about to lift, and that pressure will be gone. We can step off together and breathe a sigh of relief that we survived.

There were highs and there were lows. There were moments that flew, and others that crawled with anticipation.

Here, in our celebration of this wonderful day known as Friday, we spill with our successes, our brightest moments in the past seven days. We share our Win of the Week.

Now, like I said, this week was a roller coaster for me. There were points when I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up in the middle of next week. There were also a couple of points when I wanted to freeze time and take comfort in the joy of a moment lived well.

The moment that I'm proudest of, though? Well... That would have to be yesterday's blog post.

It was the least viewed of the four posts from this week, but it was also one of the most difficult for me to write. First of all, I was feeling like death the night before and the morning of that post. I couldn't shake a nasty headache and an overwhelming tiredness. Secondly, I'm not one to spill my guts often. I'm open if you ask, but I don't usually volunteer personal information like that.

I'm grateful that I did it, though. I got some great responses from you guys, as well as some responses from friends who had read my blog that day. It was a moment of vulnerability for me, but it was worth it.

So that, my friends, is my Win of the Week.

... ... ...

Questions: What is your win of the week? Was it something small? Something big? A moment of vulnerability like my own?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading! 

The Awkward In-Between

Writer by day. Secret agent by night.

I have this really bad habit, guys.

It isn't biting my fingernails, though I definitely do that. Is it really a "bad" thing, anyway?

Nor is it leaving the toilet seat up after I use the restroom. Because I love my wife like that.

And in case the thought crossed your mind, I don't live a double-life as a secret agent. Well, there was that one time...

No, my bad habit is far beyond any of these ridiculous things. It's not something I'm proud of, either, which I suppose is why I haven't shared it yet. It's one of those things that I keep tucked away in my mind, for nobody else to see. It's like a club that only me, myself, and I have a membership to, and we haven't been accepting new members since... forever.

And at this point, you can probably see that I'm stalling.

So, at the risk of losing every friend I've ever had, I'll spill. But you have to pinky-promise not to judge me too much.

Here it is:

A lot of times, I don't believe my friends when they tell me things.

Okay, so that doesn't sound so awful. But let me give you an example.

Let's say a good friend of mine told me that he hasn't been feeling well. Unless he shows me the thermometer that read his fever, as well as a second one verifying the first, I struggle to empathize. Especially if he's good at hiding it, in which case I usually tend to believe he's trying to get "out" of something.

Now it still may not sound that awful, but it gets worse (in my mind, at least).

You see, I suffer from chronic illness. I sleep with oxygen at night and do breathing treatments and chest physiotherapy every day. But frankly, I don't want my disease to define who I am, so I try my best to hide it. Now, mind you, my rolling backpack does make people wonder why I don't carry a bag like everyone else, but I don't typically draw attention to myself when I don't feel well.

Like this past week or two. I've been so tired. All. The. Time. And I want people to believe me so badly. But they don't seem to have any sympathy, because I'm still going to school and I'm still working on this huge paper we have due in two weeks. By all accounts, I'm normal. And hey, who isn't tired in college?

But I want people to know it's different for me. It's the worst kind of double-standard. I expect people to believe me and to sympathize with me, but I have the hardest time giving people I love the benefit of the doubt.

Somewhere alone the line, I fed into the lie that I matter more than they do. 

And maybe that's the real confession here. 

I know it seems like I have it all together when I write, and that may be true. Writing is a place of solace and serenity for me. I can shed my suckiness and dress myself in a facade of words. And that's nice, for a moment or two. Until I realize that my writing can't heal me from who I am.

But when the words are stripped away, and it's me and you, the truth is, I'm not any better than you are. You and I, we both have our struggles. We both have our successes. We both have our ups, downs, and awkward in-betweens.

And right now, I find myself in that awkward in-between. I don't feel well, but I'm still healthy enough to live somewhat normally (besides being a 22 year old on oxygen). So I ask you to accept me where I am, even if you don't totally understand it. And I pinky-promise you that I'll try to understand when you're there too.

... ... ...

Questions: Do you have any bad habits? How do they affect your daily life? Can you sympathize with my struggle here? Why do you think we often set double-standards for those we love the most?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

photo credit: mzacha - sxc.hu

Woman Talk

Don't forget about the guest post series we're starting up! I've gotten a few great submissions, but I'm definitely looking for more! Don't be shy! Write 'em up and send 'em my way!

Just out of curiosity... how many languages do you know?

5? 7? 2?

Or do you just know 1? (Hopefully no one knows less than that)

I think a lot of us fall under the same category that I'm in: a language "sampler."We know bits and pieces of about 10 different languages, but if we had to survive in a country that spoke any of them, we'd die.

It's not a bad thing. It's just how things are.

For instance, I know bits and pieces of Spanish, French, Chinese, and Krio. I also doknow how to read Ancient Greek, but that's about as useful when speaking as knowing how to swim while standing on your head.

However, what I didn't realize until just recently is that I'm slowly learning a new language.

What's funny about this new language I'm learning is that it isn't really voluntary. I'm being immersed in it every day, without reprieve. But I need to know it to survive. And many others out there are going through the same thing right now. Some have only been learning for a few days, and others for decades. But none of us will ever truly master the language known as...

Woman talk.

I know what you might be thinking (if you're a woman, anyway). "We don't speak a different language! Guys just don't listen!" And you're probably right. But in our defense, we don't listen because we don't understand! It's like planting us in Japan and expecting us to navigate. It just doesn't work.

You girls speak a different language! 

I have proof, too. Anecdotal proof, but proof nonetheless.

You see, my wife is a beast and loves to run. She's about 37 billion times more in shape than I am. And that's no exaggeration. So she tries to go running everyday.

One day, she went to go running right before we were about to leave to go somewhere. She looks at me as she's leaving, and woman talk starts pouring out of her mouth. It sounded something like, "I’m running 3 miles and then I want to leave." But I'm a woman talk rookie, so I can't be 100% sure. I've consulted experts, and they're still baffled.

Thankfully, though, God blessed me with a wife who knows that I'm as dumb as a rock when it comes to understanding what she's saying. So when that inevitable blank, confused stare passed from my eyes to hers, she nodded in understanding and translated for me.

What she said: "I'm running 3 miles and then I want to leave."

What she meant: "Shower while I'm gone."

Now just look at that. How could any sane human grasp such a ridiculous language? There's no pattern! It makes no sense! What does her running have to do with my personal hygiene?! I haven't a clue!

If you're a guy and you're reading this, you know what I mean. You're nodding your head in understanding as you read, and you're probably trying to figure out a way to crack their code. Don't worry, fellas, it can't be done. I've only been married 2 years and I know that much.

If you're a girl and you're reading this, you're probably shaking your head in disapproval. It seems obvious to you that when my wonderful wife told me she was going running, she meant that she wanted me to shower. It makes total sense to you! However, it does not, and will never, make sense to us guys. So be patient with us.

We're learning. Slowly... Very, very slowly.

(Crud. My wife just left to go run. Better get in the shower!) 

... ... ...

Questions: Have you ever experienced something like this? Does your spouse sometimes say something that you know means something else? Any funny stories worth sharing about this? 

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

Disclaimer: This was a repost from June of 2011.

Are We Selfish?

Have you ever been in a class that you could never predict? You know, the one with the zany professor who always has something new up his sleeve? Didn't that class drive you crazy?

Well, my friends, for me that is my Elementary Statistics class. Oh me, oh my.

First of all, our professor is an ex-MLB player. That should be enough to make you wonder. But it gets better.

I secretly think our professor also wants to be a preacher, because somehow, someway, he always manages to segue into a spiritual conversation (even though we're supposed to be talking about "math"). 

Last week was one of his best days, though. We began class by watching three "music" videos. I'll save you some excruciating pain and just let you know that one of them was called "Where's the Line for Jesus?" I can't link to it with a good conscience, so I'll let you find it for yourself. Oh, the horror...

The third one we watched was pretty intense, though. It's worth me sharing with you, so here it is, in its entirety:

Now I don't claim to agree with every word this guy says, but his delivery is unique, to say the least. One of his lines hit me square on the forehead, though, as I sat twiddling my thumbs in my Stats class. Skip to 2:57 in the video to hear it. And on the off chance you're lazy and don't do that, here's what he says:

"Even your good acts are an extension of your selfishness."

Now normally I would have shrugged off this video as another one of this class's weird quirks. But, because of another class I've already had, that quote wouldn't let go of me. So I had to address it.

We try and we try to be good. Whether we're influenced by the God we believe in or by our personal moral ethic, most of us strive to be "good" people. We help others out, give to those who are poor, and sacrifice ourselves to love those around us.

And if you're not at a place where that's a regular part of your life, I'd love to hear why.

Undoubtedly, though, Christians are among worst offenders. We wear our good deeds like Girl Scout badges.

"Can you believe I spent a week there?"

 "I sacrificed my summer without pay to do this."

"Well I support a child through this or that program - they'd be hopeless without me!"

And keep in mind, I'm keeping this inclusive. My hands as red with guilt as anyone else's.

It's clear to everyone but ourselves that we're anything but selfless. "Even our good acts are an extension of our selfishness," remember? Something tells me you don't like hearing that. I didn't either when I first heard it over a year ago. It didn't seem to mesh with my view of the world and myself, so I threw it out and didn't give it a second thought. But somewhere inside of me, I knew its premise to be true.

In one of my past classes, we studied a wide variety of theories concerning families. One of those theories was known as Social Exchange Theory. We all threw a fit when we heard about it, because we didn't want it to be true. Basically, it posits that every decision we make is weighed by a cost-benefit analysis. We think, "What will this cost me?" and "What will I gain?" as we strive to make everyday decisions in life.

For instance:

Say I decide I want to spend a night with friends instead of my wife.

Cost: A night with the love of my wife that I'll never have back.

Gain: A potentially fun night that I'll always remember with my friends.

For you, this might look different in the exact same situation. But that's basically how I weigh it, and about 85% of the time, I choose my wife, because I really like her (in case there was any doubt).

The same kind of thing happens when we decide to do a "good deed."

For example:

Say you're asked to serve at a soup kitchen, giving out food to the poor.

Cost: Some time and maybe a little dignity (if that sort of thing shames you).

Here's where the controversy lies.

Gain: A good feeling. Another good-deed badge on your figurative Girl Scout vest. Or maybe the food that you get to choose from after you're done handing out food to others.

Replace any situation with the one given - I guarantee you'll find the same thing. It's nearly impossible to escape. Consider this: even Jesus being crucified (something a lot of people consider the highest form of selflessness) was for something.

Doesn't it drive you crazy? You don't want this idea of Exchange Theory to be true, but as far as we can see, it is.

So why don't you give in to it? Why don't you want to admit it's right and that you do everything for yourself in some way?

Oh, that's right. Because it would make your "selfless acts" null and void. When you stand before Jesus, you'll have nothing to cling to. And that's exactly the point.

Even our good deeds are an extension of our selfishness.

Why do you think Jesus was sent to be crucified in the first place? There's was nothing we could do about our standing before God. And heck, there still isn't anything we can do. We can prop up our good deeds all we want, but once we remove their shell, what's left behind is nothing more than a menagerie of our ugly, broken selfishness. To Jesus, they're worth nothing more than rusty old Girl Scout badges.

It sucks. Your good deeds aren't inherently "good." But the truth is, they were never meant to be. So don't walk away slumped over, shaking your head about how hopeless we are. For we have hope.

Keep fighting the fight. Keep running the race. 

And remember, even though you're doing good things and think you're a good person, this was never about you in the first place. It was never supposed to be. Keep doing those good things; I never said they were wrong. But stop fooling yourself into thinking that they're good, that you're good, or that they somehow make you good. That couldn't be further from the truth.

... ... ...

Questions: How does this jive with you? Do you get angry when you hear about Exchange Theory? Or have you been nodding your head all along the way? What do you think your reaction to it says about yourself? Does this mean we should never do "good" deeds anymore?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

photo credit: igoghost - sxc.hu