Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Life and Death


When I was younger, my dad loved to take us to museums. One of my favorite museums to visit was the Liberty Science Center in New Jersey, because they had so many cool interactive exhibits to explore. My first visit to this museum was particularly unforgettable for me because that was the day I thought I was going to die. Mind you, I had to be no more the eight years old, but that day, I just knew it was the end. When we arrived at the museum, the first exhibit was something like a cave. It looked really cool on the outside and there was this long line of kids waiting to go inside. Of course, this piqued the curiosity of the thrill-seeker in me and I immediately ran over to get in line to see what all the fuss was about. When my turn finally came to go in, the attendant told me to remove my shoes and gave me very specific instructions:

“Once you go inside the cave, the only way out is on the other side,” he said. “Remember to take your time, remain calm and listen for the sounds that will lead you out.”

As a child anxious to explore the cave with the rest of the kids, I barely heard what the man said before I was scurrying into the opening of the cave. The entrance was so low that I had to stoop down to enter it. Once I got inside and began to crawl, the tunnel got so tight that I eventually went from crawling on my knees to lying flat on my back in order to make my way through. As I moved further away from the entrance, the space got so dark that I couldn’t see anything around me, and so tight that I could feel my tiny chest pressing up against the ceiling each time I inhaled. Because it was so closed in, the air was very thick, making it difficult to breathe. The journey through the cave felt like it was never going to end and with every inch, I felt myself losing it. Like I said, I thought I was going to die. I began to cry out in panic. Tears began to stream down my face as thoughts of death began to somersault through my mind. Then, out of nowhere, I remembered the instructions of the attendant.  

“Remember to take your time, remain calm and listen for the sounds that will lead you out.”

Up to that point, the only sounds I could hear were thoughts of panic, despair and hopelessness coursing through my brain, but suddenly, I found a way to be still and listen to the sounds the man promised I would hear. That’s when I heard a soft, familiar voice speaking through the speakers installed in the cave. It was the attendant calmly guiding everyone through each part of cave until they reached the end. As I turned my attention away from the dark, hot, stuffy cave I was in and tuned in to the voice in the speakers, I eventually began to see a glint of light at the end of the cave. Minutes later, I was crawling out of the cave and dashing into my dad’s arms. Through deep sobs, I told my parents how scary the cave was and how I thought I was going to die. I was so angry with them for letting me go into such a dangerous situation and not even try to help me out of it. To my surprise, they started laughing.

“We saw you the whole time,” my dad said. “There were cameras in the cave that allowed us to make sure you were safe and until you got through to the other side. Even though you were panicking, the situation was totally under control.”

I was immediately embarrassed. The whole museum lobby could see me carrying on like that? It was almost comical to think of myself going crazy like that and everyone else knowing that I was ok. They all could see how close I was to the end, but I couldn’t.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about that experience in the cave and it made me think about my thought pattern and how I process things. There are so many times in my life when I feel like I am alone in a dark, stuffy, endless situation that is so tight I feel like I am literally crawling my way out of it. Sometimes there seems to be no end. I even allow my mind to get so cluttered with these negative thoughts that I can’t move. Negative thoughts have their way of paralyzing us in tough situations. We forget everything we know. We panic and lose faith that we will ever get out.

Many times, we even convince ourselves that we cannot control what we think. Negative thoughts seem to be like unannounced guests that don’t know when they have worn out their welcome. Some of us have grown so accustomed to thinking such degrading thoughts about our lives that it becomes a part of our personalities. But I am learning each day that what we think will determine where we go in life. If we choose to think we can’t make it, we wont. If we choose to think we can’t do it, we don’t. But if we use that same power of thought for something positive, our possibilities are endless. I encourage you to examine your thoughts constantly. See what you choose to think about throughout the day and test it to see if it brings life to your situation or does it suffocate and paralyze you.

God tells us in His word to keep our thoughts tuned into Him and He will keep us in perfect peace (Isaiah 26:3). Perfect peace does not mean that trials will not come. It doesn’t mean that temptation and negativity will automatically evaporate. And it certainly doesn’t mean people won’t get on your nerves from time to time. Simply put, keeping our minds on things that are positive will give us a healthy way of dealing with whatever life brings our way. Eventually we will find a way to endure and the exit to the dark caves in our lives will get closer every step of the way.The best part about it is that even when we feel like we are all alone, God is watching us every step of the way and ensuring our safe travel to the end.

In addition to ensuring that I never pursued a career in coal mining, that experience in the cave showed me how important it is to pay attention to what I choose to focus my attention on because it is unquestionably the difference between life and death.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Balancing Act

Last September, I suffered a football injury to my leg that had me in a cast for 2 months. Since then, I have been in an intense physical therapy program, trying to get back to my normal sports-playing self. One of the exercises I do in the pool works to improve my balance and requires me to keep my balance by placing one foot in front of the other as I walk across the pool to the opposite side and back again. Much like a sobriety test, my objective is to use my balance in order to keep my feet on the solid black line on pool floor.
I have never been good at balancing, so I already knew this would be a challenge, but the challenge on land is nothing in comparison to being in the pool. In the water, you are combating waves being made my others in the pool, and your increased buoyancy from the chlorine in the water adds another challenge to staying balanced. So as I began my first steps on the line, I focused my attention to the black line at the bottom of the pool, but it was hard because the moving water kept giving off the illusion that the line was moving. The harder I tried to concentrate on that line, the harder it became to keep my balance. Finally, after my third lap, I became extremely dizzy to the point that it was impossible to continue staring down at the line. Instead, I began to direct my focus toward my destination on the other side of the pool.  Suddenly I heard my therapist say, “You’re starting to get the hang of it.” Sure enough, I managed to walk halfway across the pool in a straight line without losing my balance.
It was at that moment that it dawned on me how little I accomplish when I try so hard to control something that is beyond my control. The harder I try, the dizzier and more off-balance I become. The moment I elevate my focus to my destination and ignore the opposition surrounding me, the task becomes so much easier to manage. In the water, focusing on my goal seemed to produce a sense of calm in my mind. I began to relax because I could no longer see or feel the waves threatening to push me off-track. Finally, all I could see was the progress I was making.
That experience taught me how to approach every challenge in my life. I may not be where I want to be financially, spiritually or otherwise, but I know that if I keep my focus on positive things and keep looking ahead, I will remain encouraged. Keeping my head lifted in the face of adversity reminds me of where my help comes from. It removes my pride and self-reliance when I look up and understand that no matter how hard I try or how good I think I am, my ability to move forward is by no strength of my own but by a God who loves me unconditionally and possesses complete power.  When I remove my pride from difficult situations, I feel less pressure and less self-conscious. I learn better. I take criticism better. I expect fewer congratulations when I do well and I don’t beat myself up when I fail. When everything is placed in the proper perspective, the balancing act becomes easier each step of the way.