Category Archives: Ryan’s mind

Stop Being Spineless and Get Organized

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I’d like to say that I can’t believe that I never realized this before but that would be disingenuous because it’s fairly common for me to not realize things about myself. I shouldn’t really be surprised by this fact anymore.

Jessica and I often lament the fact that we don’t do routine well. All we’ve ever wanted for our family and for ourselves is to be people that are consistent, that live by a healthy set of rhythms, and that have a handful of specific (fun) patterns that shape our lives. Instead we often find ourselves scattered and on the go, random, and a bit all over the place.

Often when we get rid of the kids for a day or two our ideal time together is to go to Storables and figure out what we could buy that would better organize our lives. Maybe its just a matter of having a better calendar, a better app on our phones, or better shelving in our closet…or maybe the problem is just us.

It’s not all bad though. The thing is is that some of our best qualities as a family and as individuals exist in juxtaposition to a routine and organized life. We’re spontaneous, we’re relaxed and easy going, and we’ll generally scrap any plans if it allows us to spend time with people.

Here’s the awkward realization though…I am a fairly organized person and I am a very routine driven person. I shower the EXACT same way every morning, I put on my deodorant, brush my teeth, take my medicines, put on my clothes, etc. in virtually the exact same way every single day. I keep my backpack in a specific way, keep my computer files organized in a specific way, put my keys in the same spot every day, put the same three things in my pockets every day, blah, blah, blah, etc. etc. Routine is actually quite important to how I function as a person.

Jessica is driven by anticipation, by the next fun event. She moves through life looking for the next party or defining experience. She’s an incredible visionary because she has a knack for seeing what does not yet exist, she’s incredibly fun to be around because she’s excitable and entertaining, she’s passionate about moving forward and about growth. But her challenge is valuing the moment enough to live in it (rather than in anticipation of the next moment). So organization and routine do not fit who she is very well, it’s taxing and a great challenge to who she is. I, on the other hand, am driven by creating peace and stability in my environment. I want/need things to be chill, to have few extremes, and to be balanced. My tendency is to change my opinion solely based on whether or not I think it will create a more peaceful environment around me. So I’m easy to be around but I can be potentially spineless and can painfully undermine people’s feelings (if you’ve got an extreme feeling, valid or not, I’ll want to neutralize it in order to make things safer for myself).

The reason WE have a hard time being organized or living by a certain set of rhythms is that I choose not to bring who I am to the table all the time. I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose, I wouldn’t want to unsettle anything in a person or system around me by trying to make changes or hold others to something that I think would be valuable would I? That might shake up the peace…the peace that I crave so desperately.

So, yeah, I’m the problem. In life in general I’m learning to grow a pair, I’m learning to step out and own my own opinions, I’m learning to value others’ seemingly extreme emotions (and to even value my own), I’m learning that peace is valuable but not at all costs, I’m learning that to shut myself down is to be dishonest. I’m learning…at least I hope I am.

Two Faced–Who Am I?

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I feel like I’m lying sometimes. I feel somewhat two-faced. Or maybe a more appropriate way to capture it is that I feel like I’m living a double life. I’m living two different lives and I’m not sure which one is the real one, which one is the real Ryan. Who am I?

Healthy Ryan

Healthy Ryan does the dishes first thing in the morning while he’s making his family breakfast. Healthy Ryan goes on dates with his wife (ok, not as often as he should or would like to). Healthy Ryan goes to the neighborhood coffee shop and talks to people. Healthy Ryan is initiating a new movement in downtown Vancouver called the Grassroots Conspiracy. Healthy Ryan likes to read and learn. Healthy Ryan likes to hang out with people, have people over in the evening, and play legos with his son. Healthy Ryan reads books to his kids before bedtime. Healthy Ryan laughs at his wife’s jokes a lot (’cause she’s pretty funny). Healthy Ryan likes to laugh. Healthy Ryan is involved in his neighborhood, he’s an active participant in the life of the neighborhood. Healthy Ryan has negative atributes too (some pretty bad ones too) but if you compare him to sick Ryan he looks real good.

Sick Ryan

Sick Ryan is pretty boring. Sick Ryan just lays around doing nothing. He may watch movies, a few episodes of Law and Order, but sick Ryan doesn’t really read or learn anything. Sick Ryan sleeps a lot. He goes to bed early and takes naps throughout the day. Sick Ryan doesn’t really leave the house nor does he have people over. He’s kind of antisocial and reclusive. Sick Ryan isn’t involved in much ’cause he’s usually too sick to do anything. Sick Ryan doesn’t help much with parenting nor does he do much to care for his wife. Sick Ryan just sucks energy from those around him.

Which Am I?

Am I sick Ryan or am I healthy Ryan? I know (duh) that I’m both. I know that. I realize that. Clearly. BUT there is such an strong dichotomy between the two Ryan’s that at times it becomes hard to reconcile. They are absolute oposites and they can swing from one to the other in a moments notice. I never know who I will be from day to day, I can never plan a week ahead, I can never count on which Ryan will apear. My kids don’t know if they’re getting sick daddy or healthy daddy, my wife doesn’t know if she’s getting the present or the absent husband, I don’t know if I can spend time with people or must hide out. I’m dying to know which more defines me! I’m dying to know which one I am more of, which one will dominate my existence! Who am I?

Who Are You?

I can only write from my own experience, but I know that this is true of you too. It may not always be as clear and obvious as it is in my life but you know that at times most of us struggle with deciding which person we are. Are you the dude that’s the life of the party or the guy that secretly questions whether he belongs? Are you the lady who everyone things is gorgeous or the one who questions whether she stacks up to others? Are you the guy who passionately loves his wife or the guy who secretly finds his passions fulfilled in pornography? Are you the spiritual contemplative person or the person that can’t exist without the noise of a radio or tv? We’ve got our varied identities that create two us’s–two people that shouldn’t exist in unity…and yet here we find ourselves. We exist and we drive me crazy.

The Best Option…

Maybe our best option is to give up. Maybe our best option is to throw our hands up in the air and resolutely declare: This is me, I am us, I might make no sense to myself but I am me. Sick Ryan and Healthy Ryan don’t mesh very well but they’re both Ryan. Sick Ryan kind of sucks…but he is a part of me. As I seek to understand what integration of my multiple selves looks like my life moving forward my hope is not just for Sick Ryan to go away (while I do hope for this my hope cannot be solely in it) but for Healthy Ryan and Sick Ryan to learn from each other and believe that both are of value. The problem is that I get caught up in the economy of it all: Sick Ryan doesn’t seem to have anything to offer while Healthy Ryan has much to give. Worth, therefore, is found not in identity but in commerce (what a crock!). Worth (I want to believe) is found in who I am (healthy or sick) and in who I am loved by (by God for certain by humanity I hope). As I learn to live into this reality (that my identity is found not in what I offer the world but in who I am created to be) I believe that the integration of my two worlds will become a more safe venture. How ’bout you?

Amulets and Charms

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I’m not a superstitious guy whatsoever. I’ve never had a lucky pair of socks, I’ve never had  a lucky number, I’ve never avoided a black cat. I see the world to practically to be much in to superstitions and I’m probably too laid back to spend much time thinking about them anyway!

But if you looked in my pocket these days, if you glanced around my bedroom, or rifled through my closet you might think otherwise…and maybe for good reason.

Every day I put two things in my pocket:

  • A coin that my sister-in-law purchased for me at the Grotto from the patron saint of cancer patients, Saint Perigrine. The coin says that cancer “Cannot defeat the soul, cannot shatter hope, cannot depress faith, cannot destroy homes, cannot limit humanity, cannot kill friendships, cannot silence courage, cannot ruin the soul, cannot reduce the spirit, CAN be overcome…” I’m not Catholic nor do I pray to saints but I do value what it represents. It represents hope, it represents God’s power to heal, and it was a gift from someone I love. As I walk around with my hand in my pocket I usually flip that coin round and round between my fingers and am reminded that cancer CAN be overcome. I love what that coin represents. I need to be reminded of that.
  • A shard of kyanite stone. To be perfectly honest I grew up believing that crystals were evil, that they somehow represented a satanic power or something. A word like “energy” would have never been used with regard to healing (nor did we speak of ‘holistic healing’ of any kind). Today I find myself fascinated by the mystery of how God has fashioned our bodies into being, how much depth there is beyond the tangibly physical and how much reality there is to our ‘energy’ as individuals and as a community. Anyway, a friend suggested that I carry around this stone, that it aids in bringing energy balance and healing. Honestly I don’t know if that’s true or not. It would make sense to me that like food provides healing for the body, or like how animals often provide comfort for the emotions, other parts of God’s creation would also bring with them additional properties of value. Regardless I carry around this stone in my pocket not because I think it’ll do a magic trick in my pocket but because it reminds me that God CAN bring about healing and he HAS created a world that was intended to function a certain way that nurtures health and vitality. Granted I am a constant reminder of how broken God’s intended reality has become…but as I rub that stone in my pocket I am reminded not of my brokenness but of God’s ability to bring about healing. I like that. I need that. I want that.

If you looked around my room or closet you’d stumble across a few things too:

  • Draped across the chair in our room is a prayer shawl made for my wife by my aunts and my grandma. Hand knit by a group of loving women, anointed with symbolic frankincense oil, and given to us with a special prayer it represents not only the love of my family but the hope found in prayer.
  • On Jess’ side of the bed lays an extra blanket (I get too hot for it to be on my side!) that was quilted by dozens of hands from my sister’s church up in Federal Way, Washington. Hand stitched and prayed over by that community, the quilt was finished only once they added dozens of cream colored loops which represents all those fighting central nervous system cancer along with me. This blanket reminds me of those who are praying with and for me from both far and near–strangers and loved ones.
  • A box sits in the top of my closet and is filled cards, notes, drawings, and gifts from all of you. Most of them are from when I was in the hospital, though not all. I’ve kept virtually every note sent to me during the last eight months and I hold onto them as precious commodities. It’s clear what that box represents–you. Your love, your care, your concern.
  • (I forgot this all-too-important bullet point in my first draft!) An old case for glasses sits next to my bed stuffed full of origami cranes. One night when my children were being babysat they worked with their babysitter in an effort to fold 1000 cranes for me. I think they maxed out a little closer to ten. But after making the cranes both India and Jones quietly whispered a prayer onto each crane before putting it in the case. During my radiation treatments I always carried a different colored crane with me to the clinic. I love those little cranes, I love what they represent, I love that my children covered them in prayer, I love that my children never told me what their prayers were, I love that my children are praying for me.

This week I’m going to get my ears pierced and start slowly gauging them. I don’t know if I’ll look particularly well with my ears done and I’ve always thought it might come off a little goofy on me. But I feel like it’s something I need to do. It’s symbolic. Like everything else above it represents something beyond its tangible reality. Everything in my life is about fighting cancer, about maintaining energy, about restoring normalcy (or something that we dare to consider normal) and everything in my life is temporary. We can’t plan far out ahead, we can’t commit to much in life because we don’t know what the next day, week, or month will bring. So by gauging my ears I am telling myself that I can do something that has no other purpose that to be fun in and of itself. I am telling myself that I can do something that requires longevity (gauging your ears is a long process). I am telling myself that my life is more than just fighting cancer. It’s symbolic.

Coins, stones, cards, blankets, jewelry…they’re all inherently worthless…but they represent a reality. A reality that I want to more fully live into. A reality that I want to continuously be aware of. A reality that doesn’t often seem very…well…real. That I can get better. That I will get better. That people do care. That prayer does make a difference. That there is more than the last eight months.

It's Enough: Paying Bills and Finding Jesus

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This photo was taken almost exactly one year ago as Vancouver got its first snowfall of the season. India, who loves the snow, ran to the window and sat there in her own little world admiring the beautiful falling snow. As she sat there we heard her murmur to herself “It’s enough” only to then later exclaim to mom and dad “It is, it’s enough!”

Tonight I was blessed to worship with the Renovatus Church community. They’re an amazing crew in general and for a period of time are spending their Sunday evenings reading and listening to the words of Jesus. Tonight the dialog was built off of Jesus’ words and this photograph of India.

For all of time humanity has been looking for answers, most often for easy answers. Generally our questions are about wants, needs, necessities, and preferences. How can I get what I want, why don’t I get what I want, why did I receive what I did not want? The way the narrative of Scripture was written (at least the portion read tonight) was such that the crowds of people were dying for tangible signs of God’s reality, they (like their ancestors) wanted God to meet their needs. So Jesus met their needs with bread and meat. Quite a few thousand people ate bread and meat till their stomachs were filled. But bread and meat were not primary on Jesus’ mind.

Later as he continues to dialog Jesus makes a strange point by saying that HE is in fact the bread/sustenance that they’re looking for–that satisfaction, that their needs and wants are not going to be met by bread and meat (whether it falls miraculously from the sky, is handed over by the hand of Jesus himself, or is found through hard work or labor).  Jesus makes the audacious claim that he is enough. If you’re looking for bread and meat that’ll actually satisfy you’ve got to look at him. Oddly, though, it wasn’t that he was inviting people to look TO him for provision but instead to look to him AS the provision itself.

Needs Met

Over the last eight months my family’s needs have been in amazing ways. Financially speaking we are in a strange place. Major medical bills aside, if we were to make enough money to make our budget and pay our monthly co-pays/medicines/non-insurance covered visits/etc. we would make too much to qualify for our partially subsidized health insurance. So our options are: keep insurance and don’t pay for medicine or be uninsured with my prescriptions. Quite the pickle! (I could go into more detail, but that’s not the point) What has allowed us to make it is that there has always been a small amount of money trickling into our savings account through family and friends generosity. That extra non-salary income has allowed us to make ends meet. Here’s the cool part though, at least on four occasions our savings account has gone down to zero only to be replenished with varying amounts within at least 48 hours. Each time we scrape the bottom of the barrel there seems to be another shovel full of flour to be used for baking.*

And while that’s all awesome and I’m overwhelmed by the beautiful reality of it…it’s not the point. Not everyone who goes through our situation is taken care of by friends and family so effectively…and who’s to say that if this doesn’t drag on that eventually bankruptcy or something financially painful isn’t a part of our future?! The point is not that God has promised to provide us enough bread and meat!

Is He Enough?

The question that Jesus invites us to ask and answer is…is he enough? Am I satisfied with finding my hope in a resurrected Jesus? Am I satisfied in the invitation to follow him, to live with him, to die with him? Is Jesus enough? If everything else in my life fails is Jesus still enough? Is there hope beyond life being tidy, beyond things working out (as I think they should), beyond getting better? I think there is. I think that’s part of what made Jesus so radical–he was wholly connected to the pain and reality of this world while completely transcending it. He provided bread and meat but he invited people into a deeper reality–a more real reality (good grammar right?).

When India was staring out that window there wasn’t all that much snow on the ground. But it was enough for her. Even if it melted that afternoon she was willing and ready to take joy in what was given. I too want to take joy in what’s given, to find satisfaction in what I receive. Even if it all melts away before I’m ready I want to choose to be disappointed by hope than to never hope at all. But hope, true hope, is not founded in what we receive but in who we are given to or who gives themselves to us.

 

* (Late Addition) Let me clarify some by saying that through it all we are still working as employees of Renovatus as one of their daughter church plants. While things are moving slower than intended due to my health we have continued the work and continued drawing a part-time salary. Some have questioned where our income comes from and if it will ‘mess insurance things up’ if they send the church money. The answer is no, we are always in need of new financial partners to support Grassroots Conspiracy. If you’d like to join you can do so here: http://su.pr/1VwRyQ . Hope that clarifies!

Bastards, two dads, unplanned pregnancies: the Birth story of Jesus

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What a crock! Have any of you paid attention to the lyrics to “Away in a Manger”? Really? Jesus didn’t cry as a baby? Have you ever bucked hay before? Try sleeping in it! You ever see a baby that never cries? That song is just one example of how we have romanticized and thus taken away some of the power of Jesus’ birth story.

How cool is it that Jesus was the bastard child of an unwed teen mom? How cool is it that Jesus has two daddies? How strange is it that Jesus was poor? That he grew up as an illegal alien? That he spent his formative years in the ghetto? That he pooped his pants as a baby. That Jesus had to be potty trained. Potty trained!

The story of Jesus’ birth is not a romantic pretty story of God coming to meet his subjects. No, it is a story that completely captures the experience of humanity in so many ways. When we dull it over we ruin the reality of the story. We miss the beauty of the gift.

Here’s the Christian birth narrative–

A divorced God* decides the only way to bring hope and restoration back to humanity is to work within it. So he sends himself in Jesus as an unplanned pregnancy to a poor teenage mom. He was a child who had to not only hold the tension of having that stigma but he also held the tension of having two dads, one was Joseph and the other was Yahweh–both fathers, both real, both belonging to him. He was born in a barn ’cause apparently daddy number two wasn’t on good speaking terms with his family in Bethlehem. Their impoverished family soon had to flee to Egypt where he grew up as an illegal alien until he was able to return back home to Nazareth–a place that you NEVER want to live and always want to be leaving. It’s the ghetto, it’s Detroit (sorry Detroit).

We’ve missed the story and I think we’ve missed out because of it. Christmas season should propel us to reorient our lives not only around the ideals of the Kingdom of God but around the manner in which that Kingdom was brought to earth. Single moms in our neighborhoods must be cared for! We can’t give them the ugly eye when their kids act up with the store, we must extend grace! The ghetto can’t be avoided as a place too dangerous for us in the burbs (or wherever you live) because Jesus grew up there. That’s his hood…and I  if I were you I’d try to go where Jesus goes ’cause I think he was on to something. Whatever we think about gay marriage maybe we should have space to honor any two individuals regardless of gender who want to love on a child–Jesus seemed to do alright. Maybe we should be gentle with those who come across our border because like Jesus it’s quite possible they’re running from hell on the other side. Maybe the Christmas story is even more than just a season of giving (though that’s pretty frickin’ important and totally fits the story too) but it’s also a season of reorienting our view of humanity because of how Jesus chose to redeem all of it…even Detroit.

 

* All throughout the Bible a metaphor is used referring to God as a jilted lover. As someone who has given his bride (us) everything only to have us turn our backs on him and demand a divorce. Even though he repeatedly says that he hates divorce (’cause divorce so often sucks. We know that) he, in fact, within the metaphor (and everything when talking about God is in fact a metaphor isn’t it?) is a divorced and hurt groom still waiting for things to be made right. God totally gets divorce and thinks that it sucks.