But so much of the time, the online profile they’ve created for you to “experience” isn’t complete.

Sometimes, it isn’t even real.

We all do this.  We create a profile of the person we WANT others to see.  Then, we support that false self with our status updates throughout the day.

I know this is true for me.  It’s like Twitter and Facebook have given me the chance to reinvent myself for people who have never met me.

We could argue whether or not this reinvention of an online false self is healthy, or just normal, or just something we need to learn to accept.  But there’s one thing I can do that’s entirely unhealthy, and completely demeaning to the online community I’m a part of…

I can start to believe that I’m really that guy.

I can start to believe that I’m really the guy who always has a great leadership quote, or a consistent deep thought about our journey with Christ.  I can start to believe that I’m the guy who always makes my daughters laugh after a long day at work.  I can begin to imagine that I’m the guy who makes my wife swoon, simply from serving her breakfast in bed on our wedding anniversary.

But I’m not that guy.

Not even close.

It’s one thing to create an online profile of only the good stuff for you to see.  It’s another thing altogether to take that false profile, and imagine it into a false identity.

So to help combat this natural tendency, maybe today we could post something honest and risky about ourselves – about a struggle we’re having, or disappointment we’re experiencing, or about a therapist we’re seeing (or need to be seeing).  Maybe it’s more simple than that.  Maybe it’s just something like, “I’m scared of the future”, or “I don’t want to turn 40″, or “my kids are driving me crazy”.

I’ll start.  Here’s my Update…

Without the online protection of Covenant Eyes, I’d be dead in the water.

As I typed those words, I felt risk, and then joy.  And then fear.  And finally, boldness.

Your turn.

I’ve always experienced a version of low-grade depression at certain times during my week.  It’s not the kind of depression that encouraged Van Gogh to cut off his own ear.  And it’s not the kind of depression that anyone needs medication to resolve.  It’s not clinical.

It’s that debilitating feeling that I don’t want to be doing whatever it is I’m doing right now, and I can’t really think of anything else I’d rather be doing either.

It usually lasts two or three hours, and on rare occasions, I’ve experienced it for an entire day.  During these times, I lose any notion of mission or direction.  I can also get quiet and inwardly critical.

I thought I was alone until I started hearing similar stories from other artists.  I can’t believe how common this is.

And for me, I’ve figured out what to do when I’m in that pit.  That’s really the problem, isn’t it?  It’s easy to look back and analyze what happened.  But I want to be able to figure out what’s happening sooner than later, mostly because it sucks to be in that place, and it’s good to climb out.

So when I’m in that place, I’m learning to ask myself a simple question: “What triggered this?”  I usually go back to the last time I felt joy, then hunt around that time to figure it out.

* I could have received some bad news.

* I could have created a mini-movie that received harsh criticism.

* I could have been blasted on a blog somewhere.

* I could have been invited to coffee by someone I’m uneasy with.

* I could have experienced the disapproval of an important authority figure or mentor.

There are hundreds of triggers I could list, but you get the idea.  And in the case when I can’t identify any specific trigger, I figure it’s just the Enemy stealing my joy.  The Author of Confusion is just that.

Once I’ve identified the trigger, I can’t just move on.  I need to do something extremely important.  I need to invite Jesus into that trigger.  Something simple like this:

“Jesus.  I invite you into that feeling of diapproval, and ask that you bring healing at my core.”

“Jesus.  I invite you into the feeling of anxiety, and ask that you bring healing at my core.”

That’s what I do.  If you’re an artist and struggle with this stuff, I’d love to hear what you do when you’re at the bottom of this pit.

And never more beautiful than on this day.

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Pastor Willie’s Introductory Comments (her pastor, and our dear family friend)

Emily’s Verbal Tribute (my niece)

Ally’s Verbal Tribute (my 16 year-old daughter)

Lindsey’s Verbal Tribute (my 19 year-old daughter)

Amazing Grace (Abby, Jenny, Cori, and Marty – 4 people I was lucky enough to pastor, back in the day)

Nick’s Verbal Tribute (third son, unofficially adopted into our family.  He actually cusses in a church)

Gary’s Verbal Tribute

Restless (Ally vocals, me guitar – I just stared at the ground the whole time, or I was gonna lose it)

All Creatures of Our God and King (my friend Bryan Hitch played and sang. Listen to the story he tells)

************************

Thanks for your ongoing prayers, words of encouragement, emails, tweets, and hand-written notes.  And food – thanks for your food.

And special thanks to Pat Callahan (sound mixing) and Terry Hitch (for media presentation).

But my heart felt lifeless and tired.

Come to think of it, whenever I’m asked to lead a group of people I don’t know, I always feel lifeless and tired afterward.

So on my drive home, I started talking with God about the relationship between leading and my very tired heart.  And to be honest, I had a Moses-burning-bush experience.  I even had to pull over to the side of the road (my way of taking off my sandals).  It was as if God said…

Spending that much energy trying to get people to like you will eventually kill you.

And there it was.

Truth.

Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve sought the approval of others.  Getting their approval has always been the prime struggle in my life.  And for people like me – people who are always secretly hoping they’ll gain the approval of others – we either renounce it and deal with it, or we do what I’ve becoming prone to doing.

We pose.

We exude false humility to force the hand of the encourager.

Our lives become a complex series of subconscious decisions, all designed to keep people near us, thereby gaining their approval.  And when we do it enough, we don’t even know we’re doing it.  It’s simply the way we live.

Gaining the approval of others becomes the new normal.

But this cannot possibly be the life Jesus came to give.  It’s not life.  It’s death.

And just typing these words, and knowing you’ll be reading them, is my confession.

And it’s life-giving.

And then, God speaks through His Word to me…

Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Gal. 1:10

This is my line in the sand.

No more.

I’M TRUSTING GOD MORE – At the most basic heart level, I have no other choice but to trust that God will prove Himself to be my Sustainer, my Provider.  For small businesses, this is a really scary time.  And I admit that my fear is forcing me to trust Him more.

I’M LESS ARROGANT – Unfortunately, we launched Floodgate Productions during a financially prosperous season (2006).  We experienced quick and easy success.  And even though it pains me to admit it, I think the success of Floodgate went to my head.  And you already know this truth – there’s nothing like a recession to remind us that the only One who deserves any glory is Jesus.

I’M DESPERATE – I think that’s just a good place to be in.  I pray I can stay desperate, without making stupid desperate decisions that normally accompany seasons like this.

I’M REACQUAINTED WITH MY CORE IDENTITY – Now more than ever, any label I’ve applied to myself in the past could disappear overnight.  And I live in complete awareness of this potential.  Teacher, entrepreneur, leader, artist, creator – all function great as titles, but are completely impotent when called upon to serve as my core identity.  I am a child of God.  Period.  That’s the only identity that can never change.  Ever.

I’M LIVING ONE DAY AT A TIME – I’m someone who enjoys longer-term planning, and feels comforted when all my ducks are in a row.  But as my friend Jason wrote recently,

God isn’t interested in MY ducks or MY rows. He wants me to walk…one step at a time…

I’M DRAWN TO THE POOR – During financially prosperous times, I think we actually neglect the poor more than we do during financially difficult times.  I have absolutely no data to prove this.  I find my heart leaning hard in the direction of the Third World during these times.  There’s probably a direct correlation with being desperate, and loving the least of these.

I need to be really clear on this.  I’m not saying that God caused the banks to screw tons of people out of their inheritances.  Not a chance.  God has a term for that – injustice.  And He’s not looking the other way.

I’m simply saying that, as a result of this very difficult recession, God has my attention.

And (I think) I’m listening.

Our deepest fears stand in stark contrast to our wildest dreams.

Pounding headaches and insomnia have accompanied me most of February.  And I’ve done what most guys do.  Nothing.  So without my request, my wife called our family doctor, and scheduled an appointment for me.  At 4:30 on Friday afternoon, I sat with our amazing family doctor, who is also a mature Christian man.

By the end of our time together, I wasn’t sure if I should pay him a medical fee, or a counseling fee.

In short, he told me that all my symptoms are caused by stress.

After a good amount of talking it through, I walked away with a potentially life-altering truth to implement in my own life as a leader.  Maybe yours too.

I CAN’T OWN WHAT I CAN’T OWN

There are things in my life that only I can own.  Example include:  The direction of my life.  The direction of the company I’m a part of.  The books I read.  The stuff I watch on cable.  The amount of time I spend socially networked.  Creating time and space to clearly hear His voice.  Creating time and space to clearly hear her voice.  Bitterness.  Anger.  Resentment.  Joy.  The mood I bring to the environments I sit in.  These are all mine to own.

But there are also things I can NOT own.  I mean literally – I don’t have the God-power to own them.  Recessions.  Success.  Other people’s personal and spiritual growth. The spending habits of churches and non-profits.

That’s a pretty good list.  But here’s the one thing I really need to say.  Out loud, thrown into the air.

I cannot own whether or not my partners and I get a paycheck two times every month.

I will work hard, and wise, and diligently.  I will stay connected to the Vine.  I will subscribe to the most spiritually mature RSS feeds I can find.  I will keep the crappy stuff out, and let the good stuff in.  I will listen to the right Podcasts. I will love beauty.  I will create art from pain.  I will craft a date with my wife every Friday night.  I will be fully present to/with my daughters.

But if, after all of that focused attention, the owners of Floodgate still can’t pay ourselves, I simply need to mourn a bit, smile a bit, and know that God knows our financial needs better than we do.

Really.  I’m not just spouting some “God is in control” crap.  God really is in control.  And as a part of His control, He gives me control of some things.

But He doesn’t ever give me control of the results.

Not me.

So my confession is hard to admit, and I never thought I’d be saying it…

I have left the land of dreaming, and crossed over into the land of fearing.  And if I plant myself in that land, I end up in a very unhealthy place.

Funny thing – My heart already knew what my body has been expressing.

I stand in that land.  Now.

But the roots haven’t grown deep.  I’m not planted firmly there.

And the walk back across the border won’t be easy.

Welcome to my current life.  Hitting “publish” wasn’t easy on this one.

It was 3:00am this past Monday morning.

Then it was 4:06am.

Then it was 5:23am.

As I continued to toss and turn, pulling the covers on, then throwing them off, I was battling with my deepest fear.

This thing I get to do called “Floodgate Productions” is my wildest dream ever.  But it’s also my deepest fear.  And during that particular night, I was battling with the fear part of the equation.  The fear goes something like this:  “Gary.  You are responsible for figuring out how to feed, not only your own family, but the families of five of your closest friends too.”  The fear then takes a turn toward the impossibility of growing a business in a recession, especially when your primary clients are churches who are financially strapped – now more than ever.

At the Floodgate Monday staff lunch, I emotionally barfed all over everyone.  The projectile vomit was far-reaching enough to warrant apologies to all involved.  Fear, driven by emotional and physical exhaustion, was winning the battle.

But it didn’t stay that way. Fear doesn’t have to win.  Even when we’re at the bottom of our depressive barrel, we have a way out.

I have a friend who totally gets this part of me.   He’s running his own company, in the same industry, in the same recession.  So I picked up the phone, and called him.  I told him that I didn’t need any advice, but that I simply needed to say some things out loud.

This is the key, so please read it slowly…

I needed to get words out of my heart, and into the air.

You may think that’s health and wealth, TBN theology.  But that’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about confession.  I’m talking about taking words you’re feeling in your heart, then choosing the right person to speak them to.

Out loud.

He responded exactly like I knew he would.  He was gracious, encouraging, and helped me see clearly.

I hung up the phone, and immediately started dreaming again.  I came up with an idea for an IPhone App.  And I came up with a video idea for a different market.  I don’t know if these ideas will go anywhere, but that’s not the point.  The point is that I started dreaming again.

But it was only AFTER I verbalized something that was embarrassing, weak, and stupid to a friend.

Out loud.

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.  James 5:16.

I’ve often viewed this verse in terms of a cause/effect warning – that I won’t get healed until I confess.  Maybe I need to view it, not as a warning, but as an opportunity.  That, if I can find one person to verbalize exactly what’s on my heart, I will then experience healing in the deepest corners of my soul.

Our deepest fears stand in stark opposition to our wildest dreams.

But those fears get an ass-kicking when we speak them to one person.

Out loud.

As I was driving home from work, I turned the radio to the AM dial, and listened to some sports talk radio.¬† They were discussing Tiger’s situation.

And they were killing him.

Verbal murder.  Sexually explicit comments. Terrible imitations of his wife in a Swedish accent.  It was horrible.

I think that’s the only way some people know how to process something like this.¬† They stand at a distance and throw stones.¬† These guys were throwing boulders made of humor and ridicule.

There will be another stone that’s thrown here – the stone of shock and disbelief.¬† They’ll openly question why in the world Tiger would cheat on his wife?¬† She’s a runway model for goodness sake!¬† People will write words like “stupid”, or “idiot”, or worse on their stones, then hurl them at Tiger.

When Jesus stood in front of a group of Nobody’s, he talked about lust.¬† I wonder what He would have said if Tiger Woods was in the crowd.¬† I think He would have said something like, “You have heard that Tiger Woods cheated on his wife.¬† But I tell you that any man who looks at a woman with lust in his heart has already cheated on his wife.”

It would be a poignant moment for me, if I was in the crowd.

The problem with Christianity is this:  I am in the crowd.

I think I’d be reminded of the times I’d allowed lust to go unchecked in my own life.¬† I’d be drawn to many embarrassing moments when I’d chosen the false beauty of pornography over the authentic beauty of Christ. I’d be assured that lusting after a woman is only one kind of lust – that whenever a desire becomes a demand, lust is lurking.

I think I’d be reminded that the only stone I can throw is the one I intentionally aim at my own heart.

And I think I’d be drawn to pray for this poor family.¬† For a wife who will always feel the overwhelming pain of betrayal.¬† For two little children who will hear something about this on the news in a few years.

And for this man, Tiger.¬† I’d pray that he spends more time on his knees than on the links.¬† I’d pray that a counsel of Godly men would surround him, and that he would allow it.¬† And I’d pray that he could earn back the trust of his wife.

And finally, I’d pray that God would protect my own heart from anything that would blast it apart.

Because if we ever think we’re above these life-altering decisions, we really need to think again.

Worry.

Anxiety.

Planning.

Deadlines.

My eyes were too heavy to keep them open, but my mind was too riddled to go back to sleep.

So I began peeling away the layers of the Thing that was overtaking my heart.  And when I got to the core of what was present in me, I was a bit surprised.  I thought it would be the Devil, or a creative idea, or a stupid idea, or a concern about some relationship gone sour.  I found none of that.

At the core of my inability to sleep was, of all things, a question.  A haunting question.  A question that drives me. And I bet it drives you too.

The question echoes still now in my heart:  Am I gonna be okay?

This question drives everything else I put my hand to.  And I have learned to craft a lifestyle as an affirmative answer to this question.

If I don’t go into the office today and create something the Church loves, will this company survive financially, and will I be okay?

If something terrible happens in El Salvador (a clean water dig I’m participating in Oct. 17-24), will I be okay?

If one of my children ends up on the other side of the spiritual spectrum, will I be okay?

Here’s the funny thing about this question:¬† Jesus never asked it.¬† Why in the world would Jesus ever need to ask an absurd question like this?¬† His relationship with His Father was so trusting that, He always knew He’d be okay – even on a cross.

If Jesus set His alarm clock for 6:15am, and He woke up at 5:15am with some huge question on His heart – a question that would motivate Him to act during the coming day – I think that question would not be “Am I gonna be okay?”¬† I think Jesus’ question would be…

Is the world gonna be okay?

Yes.¬† That’s most definitely the question that seemed to haunt Jesus as He walked and talked with those who chose to follow Him.

I wonder what kinds of things we would all be compelled to do today if our primary question changed from “Am I gonna be okay?” to “Is the world gonna be okay?”.

One thing’s for sure:¬† I’d stop using the word “I” so much.

After the laughing, and some much-needed fingernail flossing, we started talking about being fathers.  I felt incredibly safe Рone of those rare times when I knew I could say whatever was on my heart, and it would be fine by him.

I talked about some specific ways I am NOT a “good Christian father”.¬† The following confessional has been brewing for these past 18 years – the same 18 years I’ve existed inside the Christian bubble.

And it took some killer BBQ to help me get here.¬† So here’s my laundry list…

I confess that I never really read the Bible to my children at night.  Instead, I chose to make spiritual discussions part of the norm, at any time of the day or night.

I confess that, after each daughter graduated sixth grade, there weren’t many nighttime prayers with my children.¬† It just sort of… stopped.¬† Instead, I started going into each of their rooms after they were asleep, and prayed one thing over them – courage.¬† Not safety, peace. or joy.¬† But courage.¬† If they have courage, they’ll have all that other stuff in bundles.

I confess that I would rather my children learn 70′s rock, over most Christian music.¬† And with the advent of Guitar Hero, that wish has come to pass (how cool is that my 12 year old can sing every word to “Tom Sawyer”?).¬† Christian music is great, but so is a lot of other music.

I confess that we didn’t really spank the girls.¬† Maybe a couple of times, but it just didn’t sit right with us.¬† I know… “Spare the rod, spoil the child”.¬† But I don’t know many shepherds who beat their sheep with a rod.¬† Spanking may be fine with you, but don’t use that verse as permission.

I confess that we never worshipped together as a family.¬† I confess that I don’t know what “worship together as a family” really means.

I confess that – even as a paid pastor – I regularly encouraged my wife and children to just “ditch” a Sunday or two.

You’re probably reading these confessions as mistakes I’m admitting – even as sins I’m finally getting out in the open.¬† “Dang.¬† It sure must feel good for Gary to get that crap out in the open.”¬† But that’s not what I’m doing.

I’m saying that, for my family, these were some of the best things I could have done as a dad.¬† There is no Christian book available (that I know of) that encourages fathers to do any of the stuff I’m confessing to.¬† But that’s fine with me.¬† My children all feel very safe, very trusted, and very independent.¬† There is a ton of love in my family, and Jesus is very present and personal in our home.¬† We’re learning to live with eyes focused outwardly.¬† We’re learning that redemption is something that God initiated in Christ, but that we partner together with Him to offer to the world.

I do not want to create a nice Christian family.  I want to create a revolution.

And, because this is my confession, I’m turning off the ability for anyone else to post a comment here.¬† And if you’re a Facebook friend, please don’t post over there just because you need to.¬† This is SO VERY personal, and is SO OPEN to such great debate.¬† Just the kind of fuel the the Enemy would use to get you and I to miss the point.

The point is the Christian bubble.

We have surrounded ourselves with Christian books, Christian eating plans, Christian music, Christian mints, Christian apparel, Christian blogs (like this one), and Christian parenting techniques.¬† And, after we’ve spent the last twenty years living within these surroundings, fewer people than ever in North America want to have anything to do with Christianity.

So my goal is not for you to look at my parental confessions and mimic them.¬† I’d rather you disagree with them.¬† Fight them.¬† Commit to never being the kind of father I am.¬† That’s all well and good. But my most sincere hope is for you to read my life, and ask hard questions about any Christian bubble you find yourself living in.

Courage to you as you do this.

And peace.  Lots of peace.