It’s Not About Me

I read Francis Chan’s book Crazy Love the better part of a year ago, and I’m going back through it now with our small group. It’s a short book and a quick read, but I think I’ll always be measuring my life by some of the standards it touches on. Reading it alone the first time, I felt overwhelmed. This time through, as I begin to talk it out (I’m such an external processor), I’m seeing some things I hadn’t before.

There’s not time now to explore what I’ve come across, but here’s what I’ve been chewing on recently:

It’s not about me.

Such a simple and self-evident statement pertaining to the sort of impassioned and self-sacrificial life I believe a faith in a good God requires. But I really don’t get it.

It’s not about me.

The roadblocks to the life I really want are all about me. What I have or don’t have, what I can or can’t do, what I will or won’t do. These things keep me in my current day to day life. Which is a fine life. But perhaps its defining characteristic is that it’s about me. This other life, or way of life actually, is not.

Signing off, mid-ponder.

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