I know for many people, doing the 60-60 can be both exhilarating and frustrating all at the same time. The reality is that the exercise of seeking constant mental connection to God’s Spirit and maintaining a willing spirit is strenuous—it does not come naturally because we’ve been trained most of our lives to live independent from God (even if we’ve been professing believers the whole time). This is why we need training. But reality is a back and forth struggle sometimes. Let me tell you about my Monday.
After a full day of work, my wife called to see if we could do something fun since the kids were off for Columbus Day. We decided to go out to the lake to eat and watch the sunset. I was feeling tired from Sunday, and the beeps throughout my day became more background noise than reminders. At 5pm I left work and stopped by a mechanic friend’s house to get him to check out my wife’s car—the engine light came on the day before. It took longer than expected because he said it could be the clutch, but he said driving it should be no problem.
I met them at the lake at 6pm, and as we ate Chinese food from our picnic table, looking over the beauty of Lake Travis, I noticed I wasn’t really present. Everything was wonderful, my wife and two kids and their two friends were all laughing and enjoying each other, we were surrounded by a beautiful sunset on one side and a full moon rising on the other—but I was not there! My watch beeped, and I realized I was missing the moment—hydroplaning over it in my mind. Kathy left the drinks in the car, so I volunteered to get them and made an effort to walk slowly and thank God for the beauty and my family. When I came back, my experience of the moment shifted and I began to enjoy it.
As we were driving back, I drove Kathy’s car (fortunately) because the clutch went out at the top of a steep incline—I coasted into a parking lot. Kathy followed me into the parking lot, and we spent about an hour on the phone with towing services and mechanics as the kids all found a way to enjoy the detour. I however, was getting frustrated and irritated more and more. This was not how I wanted the night to end, sitting alone in a parking lot waiting for a tow truck, knowing a huge auto bill was about to slap us in the face. Kathy said, “Let’s go to Walgreens and get candy!” My first thought was sour, “No, this is supposed to be a miserable experience, don’t try to change it.” My watch didn’t beep, but I caught myself. “Lord, why am I not willing to try to make something fun out of this?” As I asked Him to change my attitude, I began to experience this frustrating situation with more patience. But it required a mental choice.
We finally got home around 9:30. My son had been waiting all day for me to help him with some recording software I bought him so we could have fun recording music together. As I was helping him and the software was not obeying my will, I noticed how easily I was expressing irritation toward my son. Even though several times that evening, God had rearranged my bad attitude and made something good out it, I defaulted back to irritable and impatient—for no real reason. After catching myself screwing up again, I opened my mind to the Lord: “Lord, what’s wrong with me? I bought this software so Justin and I could enjoy it together and I’m letting my irritation push him away from me. Help me.” As I submitted my will to God’s will, I sensed I needed to put my hand on Justin’s shoulder and just silently start thanking God for my son. As I did, my irritation calmed down. Though we didn’t get it fixed that night, we ended the night laying in his bed reading a novel we’ve been enjoying together, and I found myself filled with gratitude rather than filled with frustration and irritation.
That’s a typical day—back and forth—one minute connected and responsive, the next minute I default into old ways and find myself out of God’s will. That’s why I cling to the promise of 1 John 1:8-2:3:
8 If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. 9 But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. 10 If we claim we have not sinned, we are calling God a liar and showing that his word has no place in our hearts. 1 My dear children, I am writing this to you so that you will not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate who pleads our case before the Father. He is Jesus Christ, the one who is truly righteous. 2 He himself is the sacrifice that atones for our sins—and not only our sins but the sins of all the world.
Thank God he is like a loving, patient parent (unlike me). He teaches us to walk. As toddlers, when we fall, he picks us up and helps us keep trying—two more steps and another fall—but soon we start to walk across the room. This is how confession works—when we fall down (go our way instead of his), we admit it and reach out for his hand to pick us up and help steady us to walk forward with him again.