Love, Faith, and the Tension of Choosing Well, part 2

I've sold one car in the last two weeks.

One.

That's not quite gonna cover the light bill, if you get what I'm sayin'. I'm supposed to be making a living off of selling cars. This is supposed to pay my bills, support my family and give me some extra cash to one day put my kid through college.

One car.

Want to learn how to trust God? Become a car salesman. There are two days left in the pay period after today and I need to sell a couple more cars in that two day period. Certainly that is within the realm of possibility, but with traffic being down and the fact that I'm like a dog trying to chew on a rubber ball (meaning, I don't know how to sell cars), I'm starting to get a little nervous.

But I'm holding on to trust. And a little hope. Funny how those two things often go hand in hand, eh? I have no idea if I'm going to get those two or three more sales. And if I don't, I'm not sure where that leaves me financially. Or spiritually. Trusting in a God that you can't see, feel, or experience in the normal senses of those words, is a bit like trusting in the reality of a naugahyde chihuahua just because your cousin Larry told you they are real and that he saw one "with my own two eyes; almost hit it with my truck." I don't know if that analogy makes any sense at all, but I know that trusting God doesn't make any logical, earthly sense either.

But I still do. More now than ever before. I don't have any choice. I have to. I won't make it in this business or this life unless I absolutely trust that God is somehow going to care for my family even when cars aren't flying off the lot, a la right now. I have every reason to trust him. He's cared for me even when my faith is a disaster and I don't trust the reality of gravity, much less the invisible Gravity of the universe, holding all things together in Christ, including my blip of a life.

Is God going to send me customers that can buy cars so I can be taken care of financially. I hope so. I'm praying for it. Every night. During the day. Pretty much constantly. But I do now this: somehow He'll make the whole thing work out.

I'm holding on to that for now.

shalom, matt

Love, Faith, and the Tension of Choosing Well, part 1

At my parents house this evening I was leafing through some pictures that were sitting in the living room. These were pictures of various subjects: proms, vacations, baby photos, Christmas mornings, basically, what most people take pictures of, I suppose. I came across a picture of my wife and I sitting in a chair together. Obviously, the picture was somewhat posed, but there was something about it that stopped me in my tracks. Something profound stirred inside of me and I realized something.

I don't love my wife.

Let me explain before you call a lawyer and divide up my considerable estate.

You see, love is the most over-used words that we have in the English language. It has lost all meaning to the point where even telling someone that I love my wife seems vacuous and hollow, devoid of any depth of meaning or reality. I can't love Krispy Kreme in the same way that I love my wife. It's preposterous to even consider equalizing the two. As I gazed at the picture of my wife of almost 9 years (good Lord has it been that long?), sitting next to what can only appear to her as "second-prize," I realized another way of talking about my marriage, a way of talking about the depth of my spiritual, emotional, and physical involvement with my wife without cheapening it to the level of a donut.

I am in love with my wife.

Let me explain before you call me and complain about the two being exactly alike.

They aren't. Not by a long shot.

Love, in its infinite number of modern uses and associations, implies little more than an extreme form of liking, of giving my approval, of giving a great value to whatever the object of my love is, e.g., a donut or my wife. It is often mistaken for the feelings of lust that rise up in the untamed hormonal regions of the teenage brain, feelings they've never experienced before and have no language for, so by default they call it love.

Being in love, at least to me, suggests that I am in the middle of something deep and profound, something that involves my entire being, and affects change in me to the very core of who I am. Being in love implies a willingness to sacrifice, to die to self and exalt the object of the in-loveness. There is a covenantal commitment, unbreakable and eternal that is suggested in this simple turn of phrase.

There is something to this, don't you think?

After 9 years of marriage I can say that this has been the best year of our marriage in every way. After 9 years of marriage I'm more in love with my wife now than ever before, I've dived deeper into who she is (and she into me) than ever before, I'm willing to sacrifice more for her, work harder to provide for her, protect her and be gentle with her.

The word love by itself doesn't cover all of that ground for me. In love touches more deeply the emotional, spiritual and physical attachment that I have for my wife.

Segue into Jesus-y stuff...

How many people do you know who claim to love Jesus? Probably quite a few of them I would imagine. But of those people how many would you say, based on the above thoughts, are in love with Jesus? How about you? Do you love or are you in love with Jesus?

shalom, matt

Bad Blogger

I'm not doing very well at keeping everyone satiated with relevant and engaging posts.

Sorry.

I'll try to post something good this weekend.

shalom, matt

And the Award...

...for Ignorant Parents goes to this couple for trying to name their newborn son 4real.

Seriously. I'm all for expression and whatnot, but come on, give me a break.

These are the kind of people that you want to take out back and box on the ears.

shalom, matt

WWJD? (or I Have No Idea What to Do Here!)

My search for how to conduct myself as a car-salesman and a Follower of the Way simultaneously has resulted in a recipe made up of large portions of trial and error, several cups of "That-didn't-feel-right-to-me," a small helping of confusion, a pinch of compromise (followed by a forgiveness chaser), and a dash of humility and self-forgiveness. I understand now why the late 90's/early 2000's phenomenon that was known as WWJD? is oversimplified and, well, frankly, stupid. No one has a freaking clue how Jesus would act as a car salesman. Why? Outside of there being no record of Jesus selling a 27AD ox-cart or a used Pinto there is just not enough guidance to cover every situation in life. The Bible isn't that black-and-white when it comes to every situation that we face in life. Now, I know that there are some general principles that can govern my treatment of human beings, also known as customers--respect, honesty, dignity, etc. However, there are situations that arise in the car business, and in most secular work environments as well, that fall into that giant chasm of grayness that most fundamentalist pretend doesn't exist. Sometimes asking WWJD? only leaves you with the answer, "I don't have a dang clue." Sometimes it's a decision that has to be made at the moment, that can't wait for an in depth study of the subject or a call to your church community for guidance. Sometimes you just have to act and hope that the life you have desired to live in Christ is sufficient to the task of producing the outward actions that Christ is trying to work into you through his Spirit. You hope that you are becoming enough of a new creation inwardly to start acting like one outwardly without thought, automatically and unconsciously; that somehow God in Christ is on cruise control through you and you are acting like his Son to the best of your ability and limited human ability and fragility.

Stop asking WWJD? and start acting according to what God has ingrained in you through His Spirit. We don't always know what Jesus would do, but we can trust that the Spirit is always leading us into all truth, and will guide us even when the recipe that we are trying to concoct gets a little screwed up.

shalom, matt

As I Sleep the Sleep of Death

Perhaps a bit dramatic on the title, but the last 10 days of my "life" have come fairly close to ringing the death knell for me. I'm so freaking tired I can't even see straight, crooked, or behind me. Since Wednesday, June 6th I have logged somewhere in the neighborhood of 120+ hours out at the fairgrounds in the vain hope that I might sell a few cars (which I have, but not as many as i would like). Stop and contemplate that number for a minute. A normal work week is 40 hours. I've worked three weeks worth of hours in 10 days. Most of my day consists of sitting around under a tree waiting on people to drive up so I can take my turn at accosting them to trade me their hard earned money for a car. In a given day I might meet with three customers. Three. In twelve hours. Lots of down time. I've entertained myself by playing Yahtzee! on my phone (set a few record scores this week), doing crossword puzzles, solving Sudoku, or aimlessly walking around in the used cars, pretending like I'm doing something moderately useful...which I'm not.

I have one more day of this crap to go and then I can get back to a somewhat normal schedule. Might even get to see my family a little. I'll post more later about the world of auto sales and some crap I've discovered along the way.

shalom, matt

The Taming of the Sale

I have officially sold my first two cars. I'm feeling good about being able to provide for my family through this job. I'll be posting more on this in the near future.

I'm working a lot of hours in the coming week so I won't be posting anything much around here until after next week. Check back often anyway.

shalom, matt