Driving to Pike Place is for Suckas and Chumps.

Hey again. It’s been a few days, but I was at home in Bellingham, WA for President’s day weekend. I ate too much good food and played silly games (like parcheesi) with my parents. All in all, it was a great weekend. I noticed something odd though. Recently people have been asking me if I’ve been working out more. My dad brought it up when I got home. It went like this (it happens like this more than you know):

He said “have you been going to the gym more?”

I said. “Not really.”

“Doing Push ups?” He asked.

“Sometimes.” I said.

“I thought so.” He responded.

Just what does that mean? Seriously. Let’s take a minute to analyze why this confuses me. Firstly, I haven’t worked out in a consistent manner since the summer. I’m very off/on. Secondly, I stepped on a bolt while running on the first day of class (september 24th) and then sprained a ligament in my knee a few weeks later. I’ve been out of the game that they call “regular exercise” for a long time…but for some reason I look more built…This is really confusing for me, especially since I feel better about me when I exercise regularly…It’s interesting that when I stop/get lazy people think I look better…

Moving on, I went to Pike Place market today. I got some barbequed pork on a stick. Always a good choice. Then I came to a “aha.” moment. I always take the bus to Pike Place and as a result I never have to deal with parking there. Ever. Today it was a madhouse of cars trying to find a place to park in the midst of a busy place with people who are already there milling about in the way of cars. I don’t mind getting in the way of cars there because the way I see it, driving to Pike Place is for suckas and chumps. I really don’t mind getting in the way of cars most of the time (mostly the fancy ones) because let’s take stock here: I am 6′6″ and roughly 250 pounds. If a fancy Audi or BMW hits me, they have to pay bank to get it fixed. So they don’t hit me and I get in their way. It works. Trust me, but don’t try it at home.

Another thing. I saw a girl I knew in high school at Queen Anne Cafe today. I was there having lunch with my parents and she rolled in. Do you ever have those people in high school (or college) that you thought were attractive and knew that it would never work out? She’s that person. She’s pretty and also lives in a completely different sort of lifestyle than I do. I’m sorry folks, but I need any girl I date to love jesus…she doesn’t…at least she didn’t in high school. I asked her to homecoming once…she mostly ignored the request. I am glad she did. I don’t in all honesty think that it would ever be good if my feelings met some sort of similar feelings in her. I really don’t want to date the girl. Yet, at the time I saw her I was on my way to the bathroom and I looked in the mirror when I got there and made sure my hair looked good and evaluated who I was since the last time I saw her. I wondered what she thought about me now. Was I different from high school? Was I more attractive? Did she even recognize me the way I recognized her? Very probably not. I was confused by this. Why did it matter what she thought? I mean really. I never see her. We’re not friends. We’ll never date. I don’t want to…but somehow I had this sense of value riding on the whole encounter. If she’d looked at me and waved I would have felt more valuable…Why?

I suppose that the reason this happens is because I don’t know how to find my value in who I am and in the love of Christ that defines me. Let me make it clear. I think somewhere we’re all looking for validation. We’re all looking for someone to say: “you did that right, and so I accept and love you.” Even if it’s something so trivial as having good looking hair. I am learning to see that this doesn’t matter. Somewhere along the line we were all fed a lie. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), the things I do right or wrong don’t define me….even if everyone says different. My accomplishments and failures don’t define me…even if the job market says so. What I am learning to let define me (and everyone else) is the fact that God loves me. He loves me in my brokenness. He loves me regardless of anything I do. He doesn’t love me in a “Hey Chauncey, I bought you a cupcake!” sort of way. It is a love that is a dynamic powerful flamethat breaks down walls in my life, drags me towards wholeness, and helps me to do what is otherwise impossible for me: feel valuable. God loves me and as such I am valuable. I am not valuable because I think well or can write clever blogs (hopefully). I am not valuable if girls from high school or real life dig me. My value lies in the fact that Christ loved me so much he died for me. That’s the story of the cross. We’re loved into eternity. Nothing else works to make us worthwhile.

I usually try to end this in a creative and silly way, but I’m gonna end this blog with a crazy verse that JJ Kissinger gave us at staff meeting. If you don’t like it…well, you might as well drive to Pike Place market…That’s right. If might as well say you’re a chump or a sucka if you don’t like the way I end it. Because really, if you’re reading this to get an idea of my head. These are the things I think about.

“Therefore this is what the LORD says: ‘If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me; if you utter worthy, not worthless, words, you will be my spokesman. Let this people turn to you, but you must not turn to them.”

-Jeremiah 15:19

Y’all probably think that repentance has to do with stopping sinning and at some level it does, but the greek means something to the effect of “turn around”. It’s more than a call to stop sinning. It’s a call to turn back to God. To abandon your old way of life and your way of thinking and change it all. Everything. Completely different. That’s what the love of God does. Even if you’re a sucka or a chump.