Failings and Shortcomings

...are all too familiar to me. I think I even try to set myself up for failure, because that's what I'm comfortable with. I am much more comfortable with failure, than success. That scares the heck out of me. I don't think I would know what to do with it. If I really think about it, what scares me the most is falling further. The more successful, the harder the fall. So I'd rather fail, and then I can just give up.

I've failed. I didn't meet my goal of publishing a post every weekend. I wanted to try and see if I could do it, and I didn't. I didn't make it very far. But there was actually another reason I wanted to set a mark that I didn't think I could attain. I kind of wanted to fail. In a good way. I wanted to have something that would be tough, and if I succeeded would be very rewarding, but I also wanted to have something that was tough in order to have a good chance of failing, and getting back on the old horse and keep trudging on. I am really, really good at giving up. I'm not good at getting back up. So I'm getting back up, not giving up on this goal. And though I'm publishing this late, I am publishing this, AND it's before the next weekend. That means I have a chance to keep somewhat on track.

Paul said something about God's grace being perfected in our weakness. I hate weakness (in myself at least). I want my grace being perfected in my perfection. That's not how God wants it to happen though. He wants (and deserves) all the glory. I know I have weaknesses, and so I try my best to not let anyone else know. What I need to be doing is resting in God's grace. Let my weakness show, don't strive to be perfect. To not give up and quit, but instead continue walking. It's hard for God's grace to shine when you shut down at every failure, which is what I normally do. So I'm going to try and not shut down, no matter how much I may want to. I'm going to try and continue through failure, so that God may be glorified when He, ultimately, turns it into His victory. (Something that may help me along this way is lining up my definition of failure with His definition.)

Hoarders and Hell

Sara and I watched the whole first season of Hoarders in a 48 hour period. She started before I joined her, so she saw a bit more than me. But small details aside, what a fascinating show.

Super super sad, but fascinating.

In case you have no idea what I'm talking about, Hoarders is an hour show on A & E (or in our case, Netflix instant watch on Wii) that follows two people each episode who are diagnosed as "hoarders." The intro to the show tells us compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder marked by an obsessive need to acquire and keep things, even if the items are worthless, hazardous, or unsanitary. The show then sets up an introduction for these two people with a psychiatrist or therapist of some sort, and a team of cleaners ready to help them clean up.

Here's a quick run down of what happens: the subjects spend some time explaining themselves. They say something like how they can't help themselves, but they hate it. They understand that it's not right, yet they can't seem to stop. They then seem to give off the impression of being scared, but optimistic; hopeful for a change. They meet their counselor who tells them they can do this. Change can happen. But the subject is in charge, and nothing will be thrown out that they don't want thrown out. Then they get to it. And the subject starts to get really anxious, and has to go through every little thing. They have a hard time giving up control, deciding on which things to throw out, and parting with a lot of things. Usually they work through it, but it is a slow and painful process.

I think this show is a dead on perfect picture of what Lewis describes as Hell. Which is simply, getting what we think we want. These people have created a god out of not only their items, but their control. They must be in control. I'm afraid to say that I know how that feels, at least on a smaller scale I hope. They are unwilling, in most cases, to allow anyone to throw anything at all away until they have approved. Most times they end up going back through some of the garbage and taking at least one or two items back out. This control, this inability to let things go, has led them to be literally overwhelmed with stuff. You would be amazed that people actually live in these houses. And more often than not it's with someone else, who loves the person, but usually is having a really hard time being committed to that as they drown in crap. The hoarders usually know this too. They know that they are living in a chaotic mess, and they know that it's hurting their loved ones. And they hate it. They hate it. Not enough to stop though. So in reality they love their god of items and control more than anything else on earth. They need this. And when it comes time to throw things away, they realize it. They realize how much more they love it than they hate it. Or more importantly, they realize how much it controls their life. How much life they actually get from it. How much they feel they won't continue to live if they were to allow these things to go. If they were to allow control to go into somebody else's hands. Once again they look to control for their answers, for their hope, and the more they try to gain control themselves, the more it actually goes into the hands of their items. The vicious circle continues.

That's where an outside force that knows what it's doing steps in and shows them a way out. They don't force them. They don't throw stuff away while they're not looking. That never works. Some family member try this technique, and it always ends up making the hoarder try to tighten their control and become more unwilling to let go of things. No, the expert allows the hoarder to retain control, or at least feel in control. They just gently push them and encourage them and show them that there is a way, that they can let go of these things and continue to live. They don't make them. They don't force them. But they give them a chance to get out of Hell, and I think that is beautiful.

Fall

Fall has officially arrived here in Oregon. Just one week ago it was getting in the seventies, but now it's crisp and overcast.

Today Sara and I went for a walk out in it, and I was reminded how much I actually enjoy Fall. I know Sara loves it. She says it's her favorite season. She likes the crisp air, kicking up fallen leaves, and all the "pumpkiney" stuff that comes along with fall. She loves pumpkin stuff. Both pumpkins themselves, and pumpkin flavored stuff. I, however, love Summer. All the sun and blue sky. And warmth. It seems all she remembers of Fall is the good stuff, and all I think about it is dreary, constant, gray, overcast wetness. For those of you who haven't been to Oregon, it rains here quite a bit. But more than rain, it's just wet. It's not really rain, but everything somehow is wet, and stays wet. And gray all the time. You can't understand until you come here. It gets pretty depressing. Amongst all that dreariness is a lot of beauty that I tend to forget about, and truly appreciate whenever I encounter it. Like the crispness of the air; the smell of fires in fireplaces; the leaves changing colors and falling, even all that gray wetness can be beautiful at times. Normally I hate that the sun starts setting early, but in the beginning stages of Fall, I even enjoy that. The gray skies are beautiful in their own way in those early evenings, and the rapid darkness forces people to turn on their lights, which to the outsider creates a magical world to look into. There's something so unearthly about light glaring into the darkness. I know it's not as magical when you get inside, but looking into from the darkness it sure does look great. Lewis even commented on this, and the ache for our true home that this creates. Us here in the darkness, looking towards the light and longing to be home and be a part of it.

So it turns out I actually like Fall. A lot. I know after I bit I will be tired and "bored" of it, because I'm a human, and a pretty ungrateful one at that. But also because Fall herself is a part of this fallen world, and she loses her beauty and grows old. I will try my best to seek it out though, and enjoy it while I can, both in the obvious good, and in the seemingly bad, much like I hope to do with this season called my life.