Developing a Better You

Category: Personal Development (Page 42 of 56)

Do You Have a Child’s Perspective on Pain?

I was walking through a Pediatric Intensive Care Unit to visit my niece when I heard a child screaming. Loudly. I glanced through an open doorway and saw five doctors and nurses bent low over a little boy, performing some type of procedure. Whatever was going on, the young patient was not happy about it.

As I walked on, I tried to imagine what that child must be thinking. From his limited understanding and perspective, he just knew a group of scary strangers was causing him pain. He was screaming to let everyone know that he wanted the pain to stop. Now. I’m guessing that in the child’s eyes, the ones causing the pain were bad and out to hurt him. Given my interaction with the caring and professional staff, I had no doubt they were doing something important and necessary for the boy’s healing, but he didn’t see it that way.

That experience led me to ask myself a question – how often am I like that child? I face some type of affliction, and my first reaction is to cry out in fear and frustration and do whatever I can to stop the pain. Soon after, I start assigning harmful motivates to the person or God or fate or the universe or whatever I perceive to be the cause of my suffering.

Over time, I’ve learned that those reactions to pain are seldom beneficial. My perceptions about my own suffering often don’t match reality. Like the discomfort caused by the medical staff to that child, sometimes pain is necessary for my healing and long-term good. While far from being enjoyable, pain can serve as a healthy catalyst to my desired growth and development. And similar to a coach pushing an athlete through arduous training to help them achieve their goals or a parent disciplining a child to develop their character, sometimes those who inflict pain on us are motivated not by malice but by love.

I’ve come to realize that, like the child in the hospital, I’m often a poor judge of what’s best for me. My judgements tend to be extremely short-sighted. Time and again I’ve done whatever I could to alleviate my emotional, mental, or spiritual pain in the moment only to regret it later. I think this is caused partly by my own failings, partly by my human nature, and partly by the limitations of my brain. I have huge respect for what we human beings can accomplish, but our minds aren’t all powerful. We’re not equipped to grasp all the complexities of life or to see all the long-term consequences of our choices.

So if I want to make the best choices for my life and become the best version of myself, I need help from someone who can see around corners. Someone bigger and smarter. Someone who has a better grasp on the Big Picture and has my best interests at heart. I believe I’ve found that someone in God. I know that’s a non-starter for some of you, and I respect that. I’m just sharing what’s worked for me. By cultivating a relationship with God, I feel like I have someone guiding and helping me on my journey in a way that no one else can. It’s helped me to be less reactionary, more peaceful, and to see my pain in a more wholistic light.

So how about you? What’s your perspective on pain? As you experience the inevitable trials of life, I’d encourage you to pause. Take a breath. Look for ways the discomfort can help you heal. Make you better. Make you stronger. This won’t always be the case, but before jumping to assume harmful motives, consider the possibility that there’s something deeper going on, something for your long-term good. Maybe there’s actually Someone looking out for you. And regardless of where it comes from, as best you can, embrace your pain and use it to grow. If you do, you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.

Tackling My Identity Crisis with “The Litany of Humility”

It was a big change. After years of financial struggles, the church where I was working as music pastor merged with a giant church nearby. My heavy responsibilities of leading a small team to plan, produce, and perform at the weekend services morphed to light responsibilities of mainly singing and playing at the services as a member of a huge team. The performing side was what I enjoyed the most, so I was excited about my new role. The leadership of the church that enfolded us could not have been more gracious and welcoming, and I felt appreciated and valued. I was reveling in my significantly reduced stress level.

Over time however, I began to notice something happening inside of me. I felt a sense of discontentment and hurt, loss and confusion. I couldn’t figure out where these feelings were coming from. I wrestled with God, read widely, and talked with both my wife and my accountability partner, all in an attempt to understand what I going through.

As the months went by, I started to get greater clarity on the source of my feelings. In short, I was having an identity crisis. I realized that for the previous twenty years as a music pastor in multiple churches, I’d always been the right hand person for the lead pastor. I was consulted on every big decision the church was facing and led the organization’s most highly visible program. In my new role, I was just one of a long list of worship leaders, many layers away from the church leadership, and a full decade older than anyone else in our young music department staff. My influence, my role, and my importance rightly and necessarily diminished, not only in the overall church, but within the music team itself. While I welcomed the decrease in stress and responsibility, I was having a hard time letting go of my former status.

It was a humbling realization. I had always prided myself on not basing my identity or self-worth on my job, on what I did or accomplished. This role change, and the feelings that came from it, forced me to take a hard, honest look at myself. I had to face the reality that my job was a bigger part of my self-perception than I’d wanted to admit. I needed to work through the difficult process of reshaping my identity.

One Sunday morning during this season, I gathered with the other musicians and tech crew as usual before the services started. We had a tradition that one of us would take a few minutes to share something we were learning to help us get our minds and hearts in the right place before leading others. The person speaking that day talked about a prayer he’d found called The Litany of Humility written by Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val (1865-1930), who served as Secretary of State for Pope Saint Pius X. It goes like this:

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, hear me.

From the desire of being esteemed, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved

From the desire of being extolled

From the desire of being honored

From the desire of being praised

From the desire of being preferred to others

From the desire of being consulted

From the desire of being approved, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being despised

From the fear of suffering rebukes

From the fear of being calumniated

From the fear of being forgotten

From the fear of being ridiculed

From the fear of being wronged

From the fear of being suspected, deliver me, Jesus.

That others may be loved more than I,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I

That, in the opinion of the world,

Others may increase and I may decrease

That others may be chosen and I set aside

That others may be praised and I unnoticed

That others may be preferred to me in everything

That others may become holier than I,

Provided that I become as holy as I should,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

There are moments when you discover something that you know is exactly what you needed. Hearing this prayer was one of those times for me. I’d been given a tool to help me reshape my perspective, my attitude, and my identity. I fervently prayed The Litany of Humility nearly every day for months. It became like a surgeon’s blade, cutting away the cancerous, infected parts of my identity.

It was a painful, yet wonderful process. As the old layers of False Self dropped away, I found a new clarity on who I was, a deeper sense of my True Self. I learned to rebuild on the most solid foundation I know by defining my ultimate identity as this: I am God’s child. That provides me with a sense of self that won’t be shaken no matter how my job titles, relationships, health, wealth, abilities, opportunities, circumstances, or the opinions of others may change over the course of my life. Working my way to that realization has given me a deep sense of freedom, peace, and joy.

That experience was one of the catalysts that led me to start this blog. So many writers have helped me on my personal development journey, serving as guides in my search for my true identity. I want you to find that help for your own journey. If anything I share here can somehow shine a little light on your path, give you some encouragement or a tool to find your True Self, then my efforts will be worthwhile.

So how about you? How do you answer what many call life’s biggest question – who am I? On what do you base your ultimate identity? What false identities do you need to let go of? Do the work. Peel back the layers of your heart. Use The Litany of Humility or something else that’s a better fit for you. Share your struggle with those you trust. Dig deep. If you do, you’ll take another huge step toward Becoming Yourself.

For more on finding your identity, see my earlier post here.

What I Learned About Dreams on the Set of “Nancy Drew”

I recently saw my daughter Kennedy get recognized on the street. She’d just wrapped her first week of filming in Vancouver for a new Nancy Drew TV pilot for the CW network. After four thousand young women from multiple countries auditioned, Kennedy landed the coveted roll of Nancy Drew. Even though the first episode hasn’t finished filming yet, the press buzz about the project was enough to have a stranger know Kennedy’s name and ask for a photo with her.

It was one of a number of surreal moments my wife and I had while visiting Kennedy on set. We chatted with actor Freddie Prinze Jr., who is playing Nancy Drew’s father. At dinner with some of the cast and crew, we learned the director Larry Teng got his start working with James Cameron on the movie Titanic. The actor playing Nancy’s best friend, Leah Lewis, is set to star in a new Netflix movie. Tunji Kasim, cast as Nancy’s boyfriend, just wrapped a film with Helen Mirren and Gandalf himself, Sir Ian McKellen.

One of my favorite moments was watching the filming of a city street scene. While police stopped traffic and a few of the two-hundred person crew held back onlookers, the director yelled action, sending one-hundred and thirty extras into motion. Then came my daughter, her hair newly dyed an iconic Nancy Drew red, running through the street, her every move tracked by a crane-mounted camera. The director called cut, and as people clapped, Kennedy flashed me a smile of pure joy. I melted.

We all have dreams. Things we long for, hope for, and imagine as the ideal version of our lives. While it’s great to chase those personal goals, watching my daughter soar helped me realize something important:

SOMETIMES HELPING SOMEONE ELSE ACHIEVE THEIR DREAMS IS MORE FULFILLING THAN ACHIEVING YOUR OWN

There are things I dream about, like having one of my novels published, attaining long-term success as a writer, and traveling to my bucket-list places. But as Kennedy and I chatted in her trailer on set, I realized that nothing I could accomplish, no personal goal I might meet, will ever give me the joy I get watching one of my kids fulfill their dreams.

Kennedy’s dream-come-true came with a price. It took an incredible amount of drive, determination, and courage on her part, not to mention thirteen years of blood, sweat, and tears training as an actor. But it cost Lisa and me as well. The hours spent chauffeuring her to auditions, rehearsals, lessons, and performances. The uncounted less-than-stellar youth theater productions we attended. The complicated, high-stress college audition process, flying around the country attempting to get into a top drama program. Then the huge financial price tag that came with acceptance to Carnegie Mellon University, one of the best acting schools in the U.S..

Suffice to say, the cost of helping Kennedy nurture her dream was high. But standing on set that day, seeing her smile light up the street, made every sacrifice more than worth it. I would do it all over again.

So how about you? How can you help the people in your life achieve their dreams? Supporting your own child is an obvious example, but for you, maybe it’s a friend, a co-worker, another family member, or even a stranger. What sacrifice of time, advice, money, encouragement, or energy could you give to help someone else flourish? If you’re willing to help others shine, you just might find it brings you closer to the life you’ve always wanted. And you’ll have taken another step toward Becoming Yourself.

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