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In step

Grabbing Some Solitude
. . . he would withdraw to desolate places and pray—Luke 5:16
Why are we men so bad at solitude? Our king did it quite well. As a man, Jesus knew his limitations. He understood his need to connect with his father—to his guidance and power. He knew how good that connection was. He wants us to know too.

If it’s so good, though, why do we struggle? Well, it’s a little because we’re busy. Solitude is hard when you’re working and/or married and/or have kids and/or have friends. And, it’s a little because we’re not well practiced. Our culture trains us for motion and multitasking—not for slowing and simplifying. And it’s a little because, deep down, we know solitude means confrontation. You see, solitude removes distractions and leaves us, for a few minutes, alone with God the Holy Spirit. Solitude is sometimes defined as being alone, but we aren’t. The Spirit dwells within us (1 Corinthians 3:16). God’s right there. And we never know what might happen when we’re alone with God. He might ask us to stop something we don’t want to stop or start something we don’t want to start. He might. He does that (Hebrews 12:5). But if we avoid his confrontation, we’ll miss his companionship, counsel, comfort, restoration, and rescue. So, we must take courage. We must not worry that we don’t yet do it well. And, we must make solitude a priority, just as Jesus did.
Okay, so what do we do?

Start small. Find something that works for you. Turn off devices and take a walk at work—at lunchtime or during a break. Get some air in your neighborhood after dinner. Slip outside just before bed and sit quietly in the dark. And, if you’re ready for more, take a half-day or full-day or overnight solo trip into the outdoors.
 
What You Love to Do? Do That!
Get away with me and you’ll recover your life . . .
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace—Matthew 11:28-29
We’re all built by the same creator. And we’re built by him to “come home,” every so often. This coming home is integral to the lives we're meant to live. God’s built us to need, and to receive, his loving care. He’s built us to be restored, by him. (Psalm 23:1-6; Matthew 11:28).

The thing is, many of us men don't know how to come home. We’re each designed to do it uniquely, so it takes some discovery. Few of us do that. If we do discover how, though, and if we begin to come home regularly, we live in a condition of abundance. We get filled up—and are able to overflow onto others, onto spouses, children, friends, people in need. We are able to give, for we’ve first received. We’re able to love and serve as we were meant to. We’re able to be who we were created to be and to do the work we were created to do.

If we neglect the task of discovery, if we fail to learn how to come home, we operate instead in a condition of depletion. We tend to try to pull what we (think we) need from other people. We tend to try to take from them, rather than overflow onto them.
Okay, so what do we do?

Make a list of ten to twenty things—things you truly love doing. Avoid obligations or things you “love” because other people might think you’re cool for doing them. List things that move your heart, calm your heart, or make it beat fast. List things that restore you, excite you, connect you to God, things that allow you to truly worship him in the doing. Once you have your list, commit to inserting your things generously into your daily, weekly, monthly calendar.
 
Unmitigated Genius
. . . he will teach you all things—John 14:26
What’s the Holy Spirit like? Well, we know he’s a genius, but not the kind we’re used to. His genius is “not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age” (1 Corinthians 2:6). His genius is beyond human discovery. He “searches everything, even the depths of God” (1 Corinthians 2:10). He’s an unmitigated genius. A perfect genius.

We also know, he’s here for us. He was sent by God the Father, at the request of our King, Jesus Christ, to bring truth “out into the open” and “make everything plain”—all to “bring out his best in us” (1 Corinthians 2:6-10; John 14:25-27 MSG). He was sent to take you and me “by the hand” and guide us “into all the truth there is” (John 16:12-15 MSG). Think about that . . . “all the truth there is” . . . suffused into our lives. Well, that’s his mission.

So, the only question is, what do we do? The answer is, not that much, actually. We just give him a chance, by doing the simple things Jesus taught: meditate, pray, study, fast, serve, confess, repent, worship, celebrate. He does everything else. Of course, the more we do, the better—though, even one of those, even imperfectly done, allows the Spirit to introduce some of his genius into our lives. When we fail to do even a little, though, it doesn’t: “The unspiritual self, just as it is by nature, can’t receive the gifts of God’s Spirit” (1 Corinthians 2:14-16 MSG).
Okay, so what do we do?

Do something, brother, right now. Even something small. Let’s all do something—and allow the Spirit to inject a bit of his genius into our lives, this day. He’s waiting. He’s right there, right inside your very being, right now . . . excited . . . waiting.
 
Living With Urgency
The night is about over, dawn is about to break—Romans 13:11-14
No question, a lot of us men are living in “I know, I know” mode . . . in “I’m gonna do it, but just not right now” mode. You see, we know what’s important; we’ve just convinced ourselves we’ve got all kinds of time. And, because life is crazy busy right now, we’ve resolved to get around to doing what we know we should be doing, later—when things slow a bit. We’ll change our ways, later. We’ll get around to actually living out our faith, later.

But, what if there’s no later? What if this day, today, was our last day?

It couldn’t possibly be. Waking up this morning was just like waking up yesterday. Tomorrow’s sure to be the same. There’ll always be plenty of time . . . right? Well, the Apostle Peter wrote that God’s right now “restraining himself,” because he loves you and me (2 Peter 3:8-9 MSG). He’s “holding back the End because he doesn’t want anyone lost. He’s giving everyone space and time to change” (2 Peter 3:8-9 MSG). But, warned Peter, it won’t last forever: “. . . when the Day of God’s Judgment does come, it will be unannounced, like a thief” (2 Peter 3:8-10 MSG). When the last day comes, the “space and time” God’s been giving us will vanish. So Peter made his appeal: “Since everything here today might well be gone tomorrow, do you see how essential it is to live a holy life?” (2 Peter 3:11-13 MSG). So Peter made his appeal: live with urgency.
Okay, so what do we do?

Take a look at your life. Where are you spending money and talent? Where, and with whom, are you spending time? What’s being neglected? What needs to change? Are you willing, brother? It’s time—time to shift into “I’m on it” mode.
 
It Matters
. . . work with a smile on your face
. . . you’re really serving God—Ephesians 6:5-8
How do you think about work, about your work? Is it awesome? Drudgery? A calling? A means to an end? Separate from your faith? An expression of your faith?

God designed us, built us, for work (Genesis 2:15). Work is his gift, not his punishment, nor even a necessary evil. It’s how we’re brought into how he’s blessing and helping his sons and daughters (Ephesians 4:28). You see, God provides his blessings and help . . . through people . . . through us. The blessing of a house, for example, is given by God, but through the people who build it; who assist in its purchase, like the realtor and the banker; who make and sell the furnishings; who maintain it; and even those who insure the house against its loss. All this seemingly secular work becomes sacred when it’s done (1) to love and serve God and his purposes, and (2) to love and serve God’s sons and daughters. It may not seem like it sometimes—especially with supply chains as long and complex as they are today—but it does. There’s no menial or meaningless work as long as it helps someone else in a positive way.

It’s in this, in being part of God’s blessing and helping others, that we find our purpose and meaning (Matthew 20:26-28). It’s also how we find joy. Our King, Jesus Christ, teaches us this: “You’re far happier giving than getting” (Acts 20:33-35; John 15:11-15 MSG). Contrary to what our culture teaches, we’re happier exhausting ourselves for the good of others—putting their needs before our own.
Okay, so what do we do?

Who are you serving? Who are you blessing with your work? How might God view it? Spend a few moments in prayer, asking these questions . . . and listening . . . listening for the Holy Spirit.
 
Gearing Up for Work
. . . you have put off the old self
. . . and have put on the new self—Colossians 3:9-10
At work, we serve. We serve the users of products and services that we and our companies produce and sell. But what about the people working alongside us? What about the people with whom we spend so much time (these days, maybe over Zoom)—our bosses, our teams, our peers, our rivals, our friends? What about those who inspire and teach us, or who frustrate and annoy us? Well, each one was designed and built by our Creator God. Each was found worthy of the great sacrifice of our King, Jesus Christ. And each was put into our lives for a reason. So our responsibility is clear: we must love them (Matthew 22:36-40). We must love (and serve and lead and influence) all the people with whom we work.

Now, this kind of thing is undertaken best with action—not “in word or talk but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:18). It’s done by doing. It’s done by treating people with care; doing our work with care; doing the hard things, when the hard things are the right things. It’s done by allowing ourselves to become the people we’re meant to become. It’s done, actually, by simply becoming ourselves—our new selves. For that, though, we must first put on the proper gear:

“. . . dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love” (Colossians 3:12-14 MSG).
Okay, so what do we do?

What’s something you can do today, brother, to love or serve or lead or influence someone at work? Take it up a notch, maybe, and focus on the toughest person—the last one you’d normally choose.
 
Embrace the Fear
. . . for man shall not see me and live—Exodus 33:20
We’re made for fear. We’re made to live with fear, not without it, as we’d like. It’s just, as so often happens, we get preoccupied with things we can see and hear and touch. But these aren’t what we’re supposed to fear—not people, nor circumstances. About such things, our King, Jesus Christ says, “do not fear” (Luke 12:4-5, 22-24). No, we’re meant to fear a fearsome God.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Proverbs 1:7).

But what does it mean to fear God? Well, mostly it means keeping our thinking straight. It means seeing God, in all his power, in proper relation and proportion to the people and problems in this world. Though we sometimes act as if he were, God isn’t smaller than financial hardship, difficult work situations, difficulties with children. He’s not equal to them. He’s so much bigger, so much more powerful, even comparing doesn’t make sense. He’s alpha and omega. He’s the beginning and the end of everything.

What’s astonishing is this fearsome God, for some reason, chooses to love each of us with a fierce love—a love that’s good and will never relent. So, to him, we mustn’t respond as we’ve been conditioned to respond to fear—control, minimize, avoid, numb. We must respond by recognizing, every day, every moment, that he’s the most important, most powerful force in our lives, and that we’re his favored sons.
Okay, so what do we do?

Name your biggest fears. Write them down. Look at them. Imagine them as God sees them. How frightening are they now? The truth is, things we can see, hear, touch are never our ultimate threats, not when God’s around—and he always is. Our ultimate threat is choosing to live as if these things are bigger than he.
 
Refocusing the Drive
greatest among you become as the youngest
. . . leader as one who serves—Luke 22:26
We men devote so much of our mental attention and hard work to our own greatness. We plan for advancement; strategize next moves; put our heads down and grind. Deep in our inner machinery there’s something that drives us on toward securing greatness . . . of some kind or another . . . for ourselves. Maybe it’s on a small scale. Maybe on a large scale. Maybe in our work, maybe in our communities, maybe even in our faith. The drive is just there.

The twelve Apostles—men, human men—had this drive. In the upper room, a dispute “arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest” (Luke 22:24). But Jesus stopped them and taught them (and us) that this drive must be refocused. “But I am among you as the one who serves” (Luke 22:27). That’s our blueprint. His life is the blueprint for our lives. We must follow it and no other. We must reject all blueprints drawn by our pride, or envy, or selfishness.

Refocusing this drive, away from lifting ourselves and toward lifting those around us, is one of the most important things we can do, as men. It moves us into true masculinity—where we lend our strength to others, who need it, rather than use it solely for our own gain. We must trust that this is a better way to live . . . better for God, better for us, and better for those we are to love and serve.
Okay, so what do we do?

Look around you—today, this week—for people you can serve. Keep it simple. Whom will you come into contact with, naturally? Whom do you have influence over, in the normal course of your days? Whom might you have overlooked? Ask yourself, what do they need and how can I help?
 
Light It Up . . . Right Where You Are
You are the light of the world—Matthew 5:14
The strongest evidence that we are where God wants us—in our jobs, in our careers, in our cities—is simply that we’re there. God Almighty knows where we are. He sees us (Luke 12:6-7). He is with us (1 Corinthians 3:16). There is a plan. King David sang to God, “in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16). So, where we are—right now—is no accident. And until further notice (which may come), we’ve got to assume that where we are is where he wants us to be . . . for specific reasons, for his specific purposes.

High on that list of God’s purposes is that we’re his light in our existing regions of influence and impact (Matthew 5:14). Jesus tells us to not hide the light that radiates from us when we follow him: “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). Our lights dim, however, when we get too comfortable with the cultures of the places where we find ourselves—in our jobs, in our careers, in our cities. We must, therefore, resist adoption, whether conscious or subconscious, of the prevailing beliefs, codes, or values of those places. We follow Christ. We believe him. That’s our code. Our values are his values.
Okay, so what do we do?

Look around. How would you describe the top two or three most apparent and distinct values/beliefs in your place of work or your city? What is the accepted “code” for someone in your career? Be specific and matter-of-fact. Now, give it some thought . . . what do you think about the answers to those questions?
 
We’re Here, Now What?
Love one another with brotherly affection—Romans 12:10
We can’t live the full lives promised to us by our King, Jesus Christ, if we’re not in regular, authentic community with other guys. And the Church* can never be the Church—not as God intends it—if men aren’t connected in that kind of brotherhood. There are many ways the Church is supposed to work, but through men in community is a primary one.
Okay, so what do we do?

The Apostle Paul gave us a framework. He wrote that we must be devoted to one another (Romans 12:10). We must make a handful of other men a priority in our busy lives, setting them above and ahead of other things—not God, of course; maybe not our families; but, really, most everything else (Philippians 2:3-4).

Paul wrote that we must commit to honesty and transparency (Ephesians 4:25; 2 Corinthians 12:9) and accountability (Galatians 6:1-2). Community doesn’t work without them. It just doesn’t. And we must not presume we know how to “fix” each other, but rather should trust God the Holy Spirit to do all work that needs doing (Romans 12:3). Without meaning to, we can do damage—spiritual, relational—when we offer fix-it advice to men who’ve been vulnerable in sharing struggles. It’s much better to listen and ask open, non-judgmental questions and pray—something else which Paul says we must do together . . . a lot (Romans 12:12).

He wrote that we must encourage one another to live boldly and confidently in our faith, keeping each other “fueled and aflame,” and we must support one another, so that no man burns out (Romans 12:11 MSG). He wrote that we must stand with one another, helping each other through hardship, so that no man falls away from God in hard times (Romans 12:12; Galatians 6:2).

* Note: The word “Church” here does not mean any building or denomination, but rather all of the people gathered together by God the Holy Spirit to follow Jesus Christ.
 
Ready to Go? Let’s Go.
For I am ready . . . even to die in Jerusalem
for the name of the Lord Jesus—Acts 21:13
When we follow him, God will—sooner or later—ask us to do something we don’t want to do, to go someplace we don’t want to go. Maybe his “ask” will come through a nudge or as a thought in prayer. Maybe it will come as a prompt while reading Scripture. Maybe through the encouraging or challenging words of a friend. However it comes, it will come.

After visiting Ephesus and Macedonia, the Apostle Paul got an “ask” from God the Holy Spirit to go on to Jerusalem (Acts 19:21). The Spirit warned him, however: if he went there, he’d be arrested. Paul’s friends begged him not to go. Paul answered: “What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be imprisoned but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus” (Acts 21:13).

For us to become the men we were created to become, for us to become the men the world needs us to become, we must act with the same boldness and confidence. Paul was bold and confident because he trusted two things: God’s in charge and God’s good. We must trust those too. For they allow us, like Paul, to trust one thing more: our affirmative answers to God’s “asks” are ultimately good for us, good for others, and good for God’s Kingdom . . . and will very likely become the proudest moments of our lives. Indeed, these “asks” lead us into the very adventures for which we were created.
Okay, so what do we do?

What do you feel God might be asking of you, right now? Is there anything you just know he’s prompting you, quietly, to do? If so, resolve to trust him. And today take a practical and measurable step—bold and confident—toward that thing.
 
Too Good to Miss
When I am afraid,
I put my trust in you—Psalm 56:3
Most of us men struggle not with the fact that we’re designed for adventure. On some level, we can accept that. No, we tend to struggle rather with what, exactly, we’re willing to call “adventure.” We like to define, on our own terms, what is adventure and what is not.

The word itself conjures images of climbing mountains, or jumping from airplanes, or backpacking deep into the backcountry. And these are adventures, sure. But . . . what about when God calls us to confess to our Christian brothers something embarrassing to our pride (James 5:16)? What about when God calls us to risk a friendship by engaging in a tough conversation (Ephesians 4:15)? What about when God calls us to take a risk with our careers or our finances (Matthew 19:21)? What about when God simply calls us to serve others in a way that makes us uncomfortable (Matthew 25:40)? Are these less worthy of the title, adventure? No, of course, not. And, truly, aren’t these things more likely the adventures for which God designed us? Don’t they align much better with Scripture than does . . . skydiving?

The problem is that we tend to mistakenly view God’s adventures as unwanted interruptions, unpleasant hindrances, or unnecessary risks to the safe lives we’ve worked hard to create for ourselves and our families . . . rather than the mythic things that they are. And so we miss the great days, the great moments, and the great stories that God so wants to share . . . that he dreamt of, so long ago (Ephesians 1:3-6, 2:10).
Okay, so what do we do?

Begin to reorient. When confronted by interruptions, hindrances, or opportunities for risk, take a few seconds to ask yourself, might these have been intentionally placed in my way by a loving Father God?
 
Good . . . How?
. . . and he will give you
the desires of your heart—Psalm 37:4
When the Apostle Paul wrote the word “good” in the passage below, what did he mean?

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Ephesians 2:10).

He certainly meant the works—the things we are to do, the ways we are to serve—are good things, in and of themselves. And, of course, he meant the works are good for others, good for those people we are meant to serve. Going a bit further, though, could it be he also meant the things we are to do, the ways we are to serve . . . are good for us, too?

Of course he did; of course they are. That’s precisely what Jesus was getting at when he said it’s “more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35) . . . or, as Eugene Peterson translates: “You’re far happier giving than getting” (Acts 20:35 MSG). It’s been nearly two thousand years and that notion is still counterculture. But the truth is . . . to give, to serve, to notice, to care, to love, to offer our strength to others, to live for others, is actually what brings purpose, fulfillment, joy to our lives. It’s how we men actually get to fully-alive and what-you’ve-always-dreamed-of kind of stuff. It’s one important reason why King David sang,

“Delight yourself in the Lord;
and he will give you the desires of your heart”
(Psalm 37:4).
Okay, so what do we do?

It’s simple. The only way to figure out whether Jesus was right on this or not, is to test it—personally. Someone needs you today. Someone needs you, right now. Look around. Who is it? Reach out. Go ahead and help him or her . . . and then, examine the state of your heart after you do.
 
Confession? Ugh . . .
. . . for all have sinned
and fall short of the glory of God—Romans 3:23
Confession—real, raw confession—is a critical component of a healthy spiritual life. It’s also an essential element of robust Christian brotherhood. We may not want to admit it, but we men need to be known, truly known . . . and be accepted by our brothers still.

We’ve all believed, though, that to be accepted we can project images that are only partially accurate. It seems so right, at first. But make no mistake—it’s not. It’s a lie from our enemy. As long as we conceal parts of our lives, we cannot know the true depth of friendships. As long as we hide, brotherhood is never tested. As long as we hide, we harbour doubts: would they stand by me, if they knew the real me? This leads to shame, and we forsake the compassion of true Christian community. “Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy” (Proverbs 28:13).

Moreover, if friends see us only partially, they cannot fight for us—because we obscure what’s going wrong. But we’ve all “sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). And when we fall short, we need others to see . . . to step in, to help, and to pray. “Therefore, confess your sins to one another . . . pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power” (James 5:16).
Okay, so what do we do?

You must figure out what to confess and to whom. What is easy: whatever you haven’t already. There shouldn’t be anything in your life that someone doesn’t know. Who requires you to ask God and to search your own heart. He’s put men into your life specifically for this type of transparency. Reach out to them today and have a conversation.
 
Confession Isn’t Sufficient
But if a wicked person turns away from all his sins
. . . he shall surely live—Ezekiel 18:21
Confession is necessary, but it is not sufficient. Sufficiency is achieved only when confession is connected with repentance. You see, confession is making our sins known—to God, to wives, to trusted brothers. Repentance, though . . . repentance involves a turning: turning away from those sins; turning our backs on our old selves, on the men who committed those sins. Repentance is saying, we don’t want to be those men anymore. Repentance is turning toward God. It’s a willingness to become new men, loyal followers. Confession is critical, but it’s only the first step. Repentance is the ultimate step.

Ironically, confession requires great courage, but repentance just requires a soft, willing heart. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, Jesus taught that it’s not sin itself that imperils us, but rather a hard, stubborn heart, an unwillingness to turn, an unwillingness to repent. The younger son lived a life with ostensibly more sin. The older brother simply harboured resentment and jealousy. The younger repented of his sins, though; the older did not. The father welcomed the younger and celebrated his return: “for this your brother was dead, and is alive” (Luke 15:32). The father pleaded with the older to also join in celebration, to soften his heart. He would not. Without repentance, we continue in our sin. Without repentance, we continue on our own path . . . toward death. Said Jesus, “unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:3).
Okay, so what do we do?

That stuff that you need/needed to confess, brother . . . yeah, that. Repent of it now. Turn your back on that man, that man who committed those sins. Soften. Be willing to listen to God. Astonishingly, he’ll always let you start anew. “Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out” (Acts 3:19).
 
Anatomy of an Adventure
. . . unless a grain of wheat falls . . . and dies, it remains alone;
but if it dies, it bears much fruit—John 12:24
When men head off, toward something in the distance, toward something good and worthy—but also into unknown obstacles, detours, deprivations, dangers—those are adventures. We tend to think of them as journeys of ascent, like climbing to a summit. But are they, really? Aren’t adventures actually journeys of descent? And, actually, doesn’t therein lay their power? Our culture teaches that ascending brings us life: ascending in school; our careers; our social standing; in the sizes of our houses and our bank accounts. Our King, Jesus Christ, teaches the opposite. He teaches that we come alive, instead, by descending. And he teaches that we come alive by listening to God, trusting God, and relying on God.

That’s why adventures are so important. On them, we descend voluntarily. We forgo “comfortable” and “secure.” We welcome discomfort and danger. We relinquish control—all toward a far off, good and worthy goal. We put ourselves, quite literally, in the hands of God. On adventures, we allow him to teach and shape us, awaken and recharge us.

Jesus’ road to the cross was the ultimate adventure. He set upon something of immeasurable goodness and worth. He faced obstacles, detours, deprivations, dangers. He descended . . . but he didn’t do it so we wouldn’t have to. He descended to show us how. “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:39).
Okay, so what do we do?

Adventures are all around—great opportunities to descend into situations that’ll make you apprehensive, that’ll make your heart pound even: walking beside someone who isn’t at all like you, but needs your help nonetheless; confessing to brothers that thing you’ve never confessed to anyone; giving monetarily, until it hurts. Take some time, today—notice the adventures around you. Then, pick one and go.
 
Carrying the Right Stuff?
Strength is for service—Romans 15:1-2
Carrying burdens is something we do . . . as husbands, fathers, friends . . . as men. It’s hardwired into how God designed us, built us. We carry literal burdens; we carry figurative ones. Very little of our life is not spent carrying some burden or another. We’re made to find purpose and meaning in the carrying.

A problem arises, though, when we carry the wrong ones. It’s easy to do. Sometimes we carry them for selfish and self-serving reasons. Sometimes we carry burdens for others, but only to get credit from the original owners—bosses, co-workers, acquaintances of some strategic value. Sometimes we carry burdens for others simply because we can . . . and because we hate to say, “no.” Sometimes we carry them because we don’t trust that anyone else will, if we do not. Make no mistake: none of these is a good reason to pick up and carry a burden.

God designed us, built us, to be able to lend strength to others, to those in need. It’s one way we fulfill the second of the two great commandments: love other people at least as much as we love ourselves (Matthew 22:39). So there’s no question about it, we must carry burdens for others. But, we must also bear the right burdens, and for the right reasons. We mustn’t let burdens that we aren’t meant to carry weigh us down, wear us down, and occupy our strength . . . while the burdens we are meant to carry go unborne.
Okay, so what do we do?

Look around you today. What real, practical needs do you see? Which of them fit your talents, your gifts? Which ones move your heart, make it rise? Which ones cause your heart to fall? Let that intersection—needs, talents/gifts, heart—guide you. And then move in and lighten someone else’s load.
 
Asking For Help Stinks!
God opposes the proud,
but gives grace to the humble—James 4:6
So, carrying burdens is something for which we are built . . . and something which we are supposed to do, as men. God designed us, built us, intends us—to lend our strength to others, to those who need it. “Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). The problem is, most of us read Scripture one way only: that we are to carry burdens for others. Few read it the other way: that we must allow others to carry our burdens too. We don’t really like that reading. That reading causes our pride to rise up.

Like it or not, though, any one of us can carry only so much. Sure, we can “gut it out” with burdens that are too heavy . . . for a while, at least. Before long, however, they begin to grind us down. Anger, anxiety, burnout, depression and despondency, isolation and loneliness, or rebellion and sin emerge . . . simply because we’re neither designed, nor built, nor intended to carry our burdens alone. “One's pride will bring him low” (Proverbs 29:23).
Okay, so what do we do?

Is there something you’re carrying that’s feeling too heavy? The burden of being a provider? Fears about finances . . . about work? The burden of children living up to expectations, in school, in athletics? A hidden sin? A hidden addiction? Another burden, perhaps?

If so, look around for that person with whom God intends you to share it . . . your friend, your wife. Go to them today. Die to pride. Let them in. Explain the situation and let them respond. Fulfilling the law of Christ also means that we must, sometimes, surrender our pride, surrender the images we have of ourselves, get over ourselves, and ask for help. We are meant to live free and fast and light . . . and together.
 
Confession Isn’t Sufficient
But if a wicked person turns away from all his sins
. . . he shall surely live—Ezekiel 18:21
Confession is necessary, but it is not sufficient. Sufficiency is achieved only when confession is connected with repentance. You see, confession is making our sins known—to God, to wives, to trusted brothers. Repentance, though . . . repentance involves a turning: turning away from those sins; turning our backs on our old selves, on the men who committed those sins. Repentance is saying, we don’t want to be those men anymore. Repentance is turning toward God. It’s a willingness to become new men, loyal followers. Confession is critical, but it’s only the first step. Repentance is the ultimate step.

Ironically, confession requires great courage, but repentance just requires a soft, willing heart. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, Jesus taught that it’s not sin itself that imperils us, but rather a hard, stubborn heart, an unwillingness to turn, an unwillingness to repent. The younger son lived a life with ostensibly more sin. The older brother simply harboured resentment and jealousy. The younger repented of his sins, though; the older did not. The father welcomed the younger and celebrated his return: “for this your brother was dead, and is alive” (Luke 15:32). The father pleaded with the older to also join in celebration, to soften his heart. He would not. Without repentance, we continue in our sin. Without repentance, we continue on our own path . . . toward death. Said Jesus, “unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:3).
Okay, so what do we do?

That stuff that you need/needed to confess, brother . . . yeah, that. Repent of it now. Turn your back on that man, that man who committed those sins. Soften. Be willing to listen to God. Astonishingly, he’ll always let you start anew. “Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out” (Acts 3:19).
 
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