Casey's Awkward Confessions: #5

I HATE IT when I’m driving home in the middle of the night from some outrageously awesome party because I’m so cool and popular (i.e. I fell asleep on my parents couch while watching my big fat gypsy wedding) and I get stuck at a red light. And there is not a single car in sight. But I stop at the red light anyway, because years ago some dick named Murphy made up a law that says the one time I drive through a red light at 3am in the morning on a completely empty road, a cop will appear out of nowhere and take all my money. If you ask me, Murphy should have got a hobby and a wife and left the law-making to the professionals.

So I’m sitting at this red light, waiting for no-one, twiddling my thumbs, writing incredibly rude letters in my head to local councils, town planners, the inventor of the traffic light’s grandchildren, President Obama and the Queen complaining about the sheer frustration of sitting at this traffic light. Then, of course, a car drives up. And the light they are driving towards is green. And instead of waiting patiently and gracefully for a red light, like I have been doing for what seems like the past six thousand years, they get to drive straight through. No stopping, no waiting. They don’t have to earn their green light. They just skip straight to the happy ending of reaching their destination in uninterrupted driving merriment.

Awkward confession #5 : sometimes I feel like this whole ‘God has a plan for you’ thing is a myth. All my life the next step has been obvious – finish year 1, move on to year 2; finish high school, go to uni. Everything has been nicely straight-forward and pre-planned. But now some foolish sucker decided it was a good idea to release me into the wild and forgot to give me a map. There are a bajillion jobs in the world and I am expected to find the one thing that I’m good at, that I enjoy and that I’m ‘meant to be doing’?! There are billions of men out there, and I’m supposed to find one that I am compatible with and that I want to marry (or the more difficult task of finding one that wants to marry me). My decisions have far greater impact on the rest of my life, and it’s so much harder to determine what the right decision is.

You know that old saying “man plans, God laughs.” Sometimes I feel like I am God’s personal comedy channel. The number of twists and turns my life has taken would give anyone whiplash, and I have a horrible feeling that I ain’t seen nothing yet. I like to be in control and know where I’m heading, but my picture of what my future is going to be has changed so many times over the years. I was supposed to be living in a different country right now. I was supposed to be a lawyer. I was supposed to be travelling. I was supposed to be a missionary in Cambodia. I was supposed to be famous. I was supposed to be changing the world. I was supposed to be married to a prince (OK, I’ll admit that last one was a long shot).

What gets me is that so many people around me seem to be getting things right. They have their dream jobs, they are marrying their dream boy/girl, they are living the elusive dream. In  a society of ‘do whatever YOU want to make YOU happy right NOW’, I often find myself wondering why is it that everyone else has the green light to skip ahead to their happy ending, while I’m still stuck at the red light wondering when I got left behind?

A little while ago my dream job became available. I was super excited to apply, until I realised I would need to drive for the job. I’ve just been diagnosed with epilepsy which means I’m not allowed to drive for a year. A bit of a fly in the ointment. I was furious. I felt so ripped off. Why couldn’t something just work out? Is it really too much to ask to have my dreams come true now? Why is it that I have to wait in amongst the crap while other people get to be happy? (I will admit, I have spoilt-brat tendencies when I am upset…)

I get so incredibly frustrated when things don’t work out, but at the end of the day who’s to say that if everything went the way I planned my life would actually be better. Or that I would be better for it. The happy ending I pine for wouldn’t be a happy ending at all, it would just be the beginning of a new chapter that would most likely bring with it just as many challenges as the last. When I’m at my most unreasonable I have to make a conscious effort to remind myself of this, to try and contain the spoilt-brat within.

The real challenge is to try and find the path God wants for me. I’ll be honest, I have no idea what that is and my discernment isn’t always trustworthy. There have been times where I’ve got it wrong. I’ve had a lot of road blocks that have sucked, but kept me on the right path in times when I wouldn’t have listened if God had tried to just tell me. So much good has come out of the unexpected. I’ve learnt so much, I’m so much stronger.

The truth is, I don’t know where I’m going. I can’t possibly know where I’m going. If there’s anything I’ve learnt it’s that life is FULL of surprises. Sometimes the surprises are awesome. Sometimes I’m disappointed. Life is a bit of a mixed bag. At times not knowing my future really scares me. The unknown scares me. The possibility that I might get it all wrong scares me. But in general, when I’ve got my head screwed on the right way I can trust that it will all work out one way or another. God’s got my back. Even if I go a mile off in the wrong direction, He will still welcome me home. My discernment will get better. I will get better.

One day, years from now I’m going to be chilling with my 20 cats, leaning on my Zimmer frame having a good old-fashioned LOL about how my life turned out. If the first 23 years are anything to go by, it’s certainly going to be an interesting ride.

In the meantime, I’ll try choosing streets that have roundabouts.

Casey's Awkward Confessions: #1

It’s come to my attention that I’m a bit of a weirdo. My colleague calls me ‘an education.’ I think what he really means is ‘get away from me crazy lady.’ I have feelings I’m not supposed to have, I have doubts I’m not supposed to have, I have questions I’m not supposed to have. I also have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not the only one. So, in an attempt to sort through the chocolate-induced madness that is Casey Murray’s brain, I have decided to record my thoughts. I realise this is a dangerous endeavour, but let’s be honest, you are the one that’s silly enough to actually be reading this right now. If you know me, you know what you’re getting yourself into. If not, I promise I am actually semi-sane in real life.

I’m 23 and I’m having a mid-life crisis. I just got home from a 21st where I was talking to a 21 year-old about how when he thinks about his future he always thought that by 23 he’d have it sorted – got the job, got the girl, got it together (then awkwardly admitted that he’s not looking good on any of those…) I turned 23 yesterday, I’m very single, I don’t like my job and I still don’t really understand how to actually live.

When I was younger, people in their 20s seemed so old and mature and responsible. It came as a shock to realise it’s all a bit of a sham and despite my best efforts I’m still just a bit lost. The more I learn, the more I realise I don’t know a thing. Where I thought I’d find answers, I’ve just found more questions. I’ve experienced more – more success, more fun, more failure, hurt and brokenness. But somehow I still just don’t get it.

Awkward confession #1 : I have no idea what it means to ‘give your life to Jesus.’ I feel like I’ve heard this phrase a million times but I don’t understand what it looks like in my real life. My life isn’t something I can pick up and hand over to God, it isn’t something I can actually see or touch. It isn’t a feeling like love, that I can demonstrate by showing affection. My ‘life’ is an abstract concept where I stumble around in the world, trying to do the right thing, pay the bills, go to church, be nice to people, then time passes, I go to bed, get up the next morning and do it all again. How exactly do I give that to someone?

I get the concept, making a commitment to follow Christ etc etc. But this morning I got up late (again) and went to work late (again). I sat around looking at how messy my desk is, wondering how a girly girl like me ended up in a job where I have a box of nails and a palm nailer sitting on my desk. I replied to some emails, then had a 1 hour phone conversation with my boss in which he successfully managed to increase my to-do list by a full page. He then called me back just so I could listen to a birthday card which, when opened, played a South Park character yelling obscenities. I ate half a box of roses chocolates, went out to buy lunch, complained about how hot the air con was (first world problems!), re-wrote my to-do list, sent a couple of emails, then went home to get ready for the 21st at which I had the conversation that sparked this little rant (aren’t you glad?). What about that shows I’ve “given my life to Jesus.” Not exactly the inspired life of a super-Christian. Oh wait, when I was driving home I was thinking about a friend who is in hospital and thought I should pray for him. It went along the lines of ‘God, I don’t even know what to say. This sucks. Please fix it.” Super spiritual right there.

I think we forget that life can be just so ordinary. As a church we thrive on inspirational stories of passion and miracles, rather than the nitty-gritty, practical reality of doing Christianity in our every-day lives. Not the ‘and then the pain in my hand went away’ or the ‘after I prayed for her she gave her life to Christ’ or even the ‘I felt God say to me…..’ The boring stuff. The days you don’t have an amazing spiritual experience. The days you don’t open your bible. The days you barely think about God at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a good inspirational story. I’m not denying that amazing spiritual experiences do happen. I just think that when we only hear stories of great triumph and uber-spirituality we get scared that because we don’t feel like that all the time we aren’t doing it right. It builds an unrealistic expectation of what the every day life of a Christian is. For years I was let down by my own unrealistic expectations. I would go to church and watch as people got up and shared testimonies of the amazing things God was doing in their lives. I would go home and cry and beg for something, anything to make me feel what everyone else seemed to be feeling. To be a part of the adventure everyone seemed to be on. I had this idea that Christianity was like a game with different levels – “congratulations, you have earned 10 God points. Collect one spiritual gift and move on to level 3. Choose wisely, level 3 may contain a SPIRITUAL ATTACK!!!” All I wanted to do was to get to the level where I felt like I could be satisfied that I was a ‘good’ Christian with a ‘strong’ faith and a ‘close’ relationship with God. I felt like everyone was in on the secret, except me. I thought it was my fault. Clearly I wasn’t worthy. Clearly I wasn’t loved.

It has taken me a long time to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t actually anything wrong with me (OK, that was a big call. There are definitely more than a few things wrong with me… But that’s for another day). I have had to learn that I’m still a Christian even when I’m not feeling ‘in-tune’ with the spirit. I’ve had to learn that sometimes we go through quiet times. I’ve had to learn that everyone’s different and that maybe I wasn’t created to have incredible visions and life-changing prophesies. I’ve had to learn to find God in the small things. More importantly, I’ve had to learn to find God in the hard times as well as the victories. I’ve had to learn that God works in ways I cannot begin to comprehend. I’ve had to learn that I can’t always be in control.

So I continue to stumble around doing this thing called life. I still have my freak-outs. I still have lessons that I need to learn and re-learn. I still have 66 million questions and not nearly as many answers. But I will keep looking for them. I will keep searching for God among the mess because at the end of the day, even if I’m a bit confused about the journey I know I’m working towards something great.

I am very much a work in progress. But that’s OK, it just means God hasn’t finished with me yet.

on the 103rd floor

The skies were partly cloudy, the tempurature was 68 degrees, the wind was out of the west at 10 miles per hour. A beautiful day. At 8:45am, people working on the 103rd floor were pouring in their morning coffee, straightening their desks, reviewing their Tuesday appointments, bantering with office mates, glancing at the harbour...

One minute later none of that mattered. Twenty floors below, a 757 transected the building, leaving the 103rd cut off, trapped, hopeless. But not yet dead.

When you have ten minutes to live, what are your thoughts? What is important in the last seconds? As a tribute to those nameless faces staring down at us from the smokey inferno, can we stop what we are doing long enough to listen to them? Seeing death from this perspective is not morbid: on the contrary it can help us see life.

Those who found phones called - not their stockbrokers to check the latest ticker, not their hairstylest to cancel the afternoon's appointment, not even their insurance agents to check coverage levels. They called their spouses to say 'I love you' one last time, children to say 'You are precious', parents to say 'thank you' one last time. Through tears they called best friends, neighbours, pastors and priests and rabbis. 'I just want you to know what you mean to me'. And surely those standing on the brink of another world thought of God - of truth and eternity, judgement and redemption, grace and the gospel.

Imminent death has a commanding power to straighten life's priorities with a jolt. At such dramatic moments, people suddenly realise that priorities matter.

Tragically, however, chronic overloading obscures this truth. How we live influences how we die, and misplaced busyness leads to terminal regrets. If we don't move to establish and then guard that which matters most, the breathless pace of daily overload will blind us to eternal priorities, until one day we too stand at such a window and look down. Perhaps with regret.

William Law said 'If you attempt to talk to a dying man about sports or business, he is no longer interested. He now sees other things as more important. People who are dying recognise what we often forget, that we are standing on the brink of another world.'



This video is incredible.