Lent Reflections

It’s not every day that God becomes flesh and dwells among humans on earth, moving into our neighborhoods and into our personal lives. The concept alone is enough to unravel the mind because 1) it starts with the belief in a God - a Being higher than ourselves, a being impossible to fully know or understand. That’s uncomfortable.

But what about when that Being comes to earth and dies?

Wouldn’t most God’s choose to reign and good God’s choose to reign and rescue?

Wouldn’t a God be above dying?

But what if this God feared nothing of death because the God was master of it and knew more of its gateway than we ever could?

To God - You lived, walked, breathed, faced humanity, died and showed us what to live for and what not to fear. Would you continue this in our lives?

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Thoughts and prayers from Lent and Fasting.

Living as One

I grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma. There were a lot of farmers, a lot of ranchers and a lot of Baptists. I knew who most of the farmers and the ranchers were, but I didn’t really know who the Baptists were; I just knew there were a lot of them, just like I knew there were a lot of other Christians who weren’t Baptists like myself living my small, rural town.

At the school I went to, I recognized kids from my church. I had known them for years, and I saw them on Sundays outside of school. But what about the other 300 kids in my class? I figured some of them went to other churches, some of them Baptist, others Catholic or Methodist. But I had no idea who believed what, who went were or ultimately, who held onto the same Hope that I held onto. I was isolated inside a shell with 15 other kids who looked like me, thought like me and had been my friends for years, which was a great thing. But there was always something missing.

There’s a story out of the Bible in the book of John that takes place right before Jesus gets stabbed in the back by one of his best friends. In the story, Jesus is talking with his friends and his followers about all they are going to experience in their lives: persecution, pain and rejection from the world, but also Help in the struggle and ultimately, joy. Really, He’s explaining life, a life full of the things we all experience as a part of the human experience.

At the end of the conversation, Jesus goes into a prayer for not only His friends and followers, but also people who will choose to call Jesus friend and follow Him in the future. In the prayer, He prays for a lot of things: to be glorified, to give God glory for the world to believe that He really was sent from God to bring Good News. But at the crux of the prayer, Jesus prays for His friends and followers, both current and future, to ‘be one.’

Some of the last moments of Jesus’ life spent with those closest to Him were spent asking the Creator of the World to keep His people close together, to keep them aware of one another, to keep them unified.

Why?

Because Jesus says that’s ultimately how the rest of the world will see and know that God actually sent Jesus into the world.

Through oneness, a testimony of Good is approved.

And when I was growing up, I felt that oneness was often missing. I didn’t know who all held the same Hope that I held onto. I didn’t know who had my back in tough times, and I didn’t know who’s back I should also have in their tough times.

But if we know, if we are One, if we are aware - the world can see more Truth. The world can see more love, the world can have more hope.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: God’s armor has our front and side, it’s up to us to have one anothers’ backs.

Stories We Hold On To

One of my favorite books is a book called, ‘John.’ It’s a book that translates the narrative of Jesus Christ into a narrative that is more than a fact-driven story. It’s a narrative full of poetry, symbolism and relate-ability.

In the book’s eighth chapter, there’s a passage that talks about testimony. In the passage, Jesus is having a conversation with some of the community’s religious leaders about mistakes, guilt, punishment and pardon. After that conversation, Jesus elaborates on Who He is and why He has knowledge, authority and wisdom on those topics, to which the community’s religious leaders question His story. They question His testimony. Jesus answers as only Jesus can, by saying He is Who is His and He is witness to himself that His story is true, for He alone knows where He comes from and where He is going, and the leaders have no place to judge those things because they do not know where He is from or where He is going.

And Jesus makes several good points here, but one that stands out to me is that others do not have the authority to judge our stories when they come from Truth. Others cannot fully judge what they cannot fully know, and therefore, our stories - our testimonies - are things that we can hold onto as Truth when the world questions and doubts.

I’ve always been someone who struggles with holding onto Truth and with holding onto my own story. But there is one piece of my story that I always go back to when the Truth I hold onto seems to be questioned the most, by myself or others.

A few years ago, myself and a group of friends were coming back from a road trip to Portland from Seattle when our 2002 Jeep broke down at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. We felt stuck, since no one knew anything about cars, and we were still several hours from home. It was late at night, and we knew the likelihood of getting one of our friends in Seattle to drive down and fetch us was slim to none.

So, we prayed.

We did the most cliche of Christian answers to solve what seemed like an extremely minor worldly problem.

Not 30 seconds after we finished our prayer, we saw the door of the truck stop diner up the street fly open, and a burly, bearded man walk out, a typical trucker if there ever was one. He looked at us from the door and immediately started walking our way.

When he reached us, he asked if he could help.

He said, “You guys looked like you were having some car trouble, and I think I have the fix. Why don’t you try inserting the car key into the outside, driver’s door lock .From there, try locking and unlocking it a couple times.”

As we all looked around at one another thinking, “There’s no way this works,” it worked.

Immediately after the engine roared back to life, the guardian angel turned around to leave with a low-key, “Looks like that did the trick. Y’all be safe.”

This is one of the moments I hold onto as part of my story, my testimony. A small, but truly answered prayer in the heat of a moment. Both unexplainable and explainable, but a moment that I refuse to chalk up to circumstance and a moment that others can’t argue with because it happened to me, for me, to share.

I believe we all have some of those moments, religious or not. We all have pieces of our story that shape us into who we are, what we believe in and that are un-arguable. And I think we should tell those stories more as we hold them tightly, not in ways to convince others or win arguments, but in ways to convince and remind ourselves of who we are and who we were created to be.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: “Even when it feels like God is absent, He is with us. He is always working, turning the world’s bad to His good.” - Tim Keller - And God is using story to do so.

Transforming Reality

Not long ago, I was a recent college graduate without ties to much of anything. I could go where I wanted to go, work where I wanted to work and ultimately, let my narrative feel out of my control and in the control of my Creator. It was a season, a special season.

Now, I have been out of college for nearly a decade, and I have several ties . I have roots, a steady job and a wife I love. My narrative has changed, and it has turned into something I feel like I have to control. It’s a new season, a special one.

But I have landed on a key difference in where I’m at spiritually. What once felt like God’s control now often feels like my control.

The other day, I was listening to a podcast on Faith and Trust. It was an episode relating to much of how i’ve been feeling, about how we should live out our narrative in a way that requires Faith to see the Spirit of God meet us where we are uncertain, ultimately to provide for us in ways that are beyond ourselves.

The host of the show shared that, ”Faith is the breaking of our Spiritual paths,” and he also shared the ancient story of a man named Abraham from the first book of the Bible, Genesis.

Part of Abraham’s story is God asking him to climb a mountain to sacrifice his own son. It’s a story that’s often followed with the reasonable question of, “Why would a loving God ask a man to kill his own son?”
But as the story goes, Abraham does climb the mountain, and before he can make his ultimate sacrifice, God shows up and provides a ram in place of Abraham’s son.

There are a lot of details and questions to ask and address in that narrative, but what the host of the podcast keyed in on was Faith and where we are led by it.

There are ways we learn to follow God and have Faith. Good things, comfortable things and things that make our spiritual routine what it is. The things we are used to. But Faith is the one thing that pulls us out of those comfortable things and out of our routines, and I believe the reason the Faith pulls us out of those things is so we can have rebirth.

Abraham seeing God show up with a ram on the mountain is the type of spiritual rebirth Jesus talks about in the Christian Gospel narrative. The rebirth in the Spirit and Faith in the Spirit.

When Jesus sends out His followers to do share His Good News, Jesus says, “Don’t worry about what you’re going to say, the Spirit will provide.” Just as what Abraham experienced on the mountain, what we need is provided.

God will provide the sacrifice when you get there.
God will provide the words when you get there.
We don’t have to have it all figured it out.

And all this led me back to how important it is to not only have Faith, but to also tell your story and to seek out a story to tell that requires Faith so we can experience more of the Spirit of God showing up when we need it. That we should be able to have the freedom to do what Abraham did and go out on to a mountain with a belief, and have that belief fulfilled.

Abraham carried the belief of a good God, but it wasn’t until he got to the mountain that he saw that belief lived out. And when we do that ourselves and see Faith become Reality, then Reality changes.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Never grow too old to seek out living a story that requires the Thing beyond oneself.

Thoughts on Empathy, Story and the Death of an Anonymous Child

This past weekend in Oklahoma was a cold one. Temperatures were well under freezing, the sun was hidden behind the clouds, and snow flurries were fluttering down from the icy grey side outside the windows of our home.

For some reason, it’s weekends like this when watching Harry Potter seems like the only thing to do. So, that’s what my wife, Sarah, and I did. We made a frozen pizza, poured some wine and turned on the tube to watch the most-recent Harry Potter spin-off, “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.”

Sarah and I weren’t half-way into the movie when the first death occurred on-screen. The murder wasn’t of a significant character; however, it was of a child. A baby.

In the film, you didn’t actually see the crime committed, but you knew what happened. The movie’s villain had just taken over a family’s home that he would be using as his ‘headquarters,’ and after he murdered the adults, he stumbled upon a nursery with a baby playin in its crib. The scene shows the villain dismissing his followers to the other room, and as they close the door, the villain raises his weapon to commit the crime. The entire scene is fleeting, running under 30 seconds, and then, it’s off to to the next scene, as if the child and its’ family had never existed.

We continued to watch the film, and about an hour after the scene of the anonymous family being killed, my mind went back to them.

I started to think about how I could watch something so awful and not feel anything. Sure, there was an initial shock, but overall, I felt no which way about the family that was killed. It was a short scene in a long movie with no-name characters. But life was still lost, and it had not affected me.

I began to contrast this same situation with another character, another baby, in the World of Harry Potter - Harry Potter himself. We are introduced to him a 10-year-old kid, and we get certain glimpses at his life as a baby along the journey of his story. We see how he was loved, how his parents sacrificed their lives for them and how he ultimately, avenged their deaths and saved the ‘wizarding world,’ and i’m quite certain that if he had died somewhere along the way, I would have felt something. I would have been affected.

Harry Potter had a name, and I knew it. He also had a story, and I knew that too.
The child in ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’ had no name, and there was no way to know it. The child, while young, also had a story, and I didn’t know that either.

Knowing one another’s stories is important. It’s so important that, in my opinion, without knowing others’ stories, would would lack the ability to empathize.

I have spent countless hours with Harry Potter. Reading the books and watching the movies has occupied a portion of almost every ‘snow day’ i’ve had since I was an 11-year-old boy sitting by the fire at my parents house. I took time to know him.

On the other hand, I had no time to get to know the anonymous child, mostly because the director didn’t allow for it, but the lesson rings true: To know someone, to spend time with them and to hear their story changes our entire paradigm when faced with loss, gain, adversity, celebration, misunderstanding and triumph.

When we know another’s story, it changes our life, and it changes our ability to interact with theirs.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Knowing story leads to empathy.

Hating the Sound of Your Own Voice

My dad and I used to go to college football games together when I was growing up. We would sit up in the stands about halfway up at Oklahoma State University’s Lewis Field, and we were always surrounded by the same people every year. They all become somewhat of our fall “family.” From season to season, we’d always pick up where we left off the previous season’s conversation on work, kids and life.

There was a guy who always sat behind us, and he was louder than every else in the stands. He talked a lot too, and my dad would always say, “That guy must like the sound of his own voice.”

And I never really knew what my dad meant at the time because I was six years old, but now I do, and I can’t tell you how much I’m the opposite - I hate the sound of my own voice.

I was just promoted to the Youth Director position at my church, which has led to the development of me hating my own voice. Until now, I’ve never been in a position where I have to continually lead and drive a conversation. Public speaking is new to me.

I don’t necessarily hate my own voice because of the way it sounds; I mostly hate the sound of my own voice because of the pressure that comes with listening to it. When one is speaking and speaking publicly, most all eyes & ears are on you (and if they aren’t, it’s a bit discouraging). But being a focal point, leading a conversation, teaching & instructing and drawing attention to myself is new to me and something I’ve never been comfortable with.

So now i’m wondering, does it ever get easier?

Will I always lack confidence before I speak?
Will i always cut my sentence short because I think others are board?
Will I will get self conscience when I see someone looking at their phone?

Or will I become okay with silence?
Will I find confidence in who I am and the story God has given me to tell?
Will I embrace the awkwardness of the human experience and climb out of my shell?

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: While I don’t want to be the guy who likes the sound of his own voice, I do want to be the guy who is confident in who God has created him to be.

A Story of Rescue

One of the first memories I can recall from my childhood comes from a summer day at Vacation Bible School held at the church I attended growing up. 

I was probably in first grade. 

I was sitting in a circle full of other kids my age, and our Bible School teacher was taking us through the “Christian,” ABCs. 

Admit (you are a sinner)

Believe (Believe that Jesus is God’s Son, that he was born, died and rose again)

Confess (that Jesus is Lord of your Life)

After she finished teaching us the song and what it meant, she asked if there was any one of us who wanted to say their own ABCs and be saved.

Everyone around me raised their hands, so I did too.

We all closed our eyes, said a prayer asking Jesus to come make a home in our hearts, using the ABC method of course, and then we opened our eyes and went to the gym play kick ball, drink milk and eat cookies.

After Bible School was over that day, my mom came to pick up with in her blue Ford Explorer, along with all the other moms. She asked me how my day was, and after I told her it was fine but that I had spilt my milk, she asked me if I had made any “Special Decisions” that day.

Of course, the Bible School teacher must have already told her about my raised hand and closed eyes at the pick-up line, and so I told her what I could remember of closing my eyes and praying through my ABCs.

To my mom, this was the best news of her life. A day I’m sure she had been praying for. Me, on the other hand, it was just another day to be upset over spilled milk. I had no idea what I had done, what I was doing or what I had prayed.

I grew up in the church, and I went almost every Sunday and Wednesday night from the time I was in diapers to now. I was around it all the time, and when you’re around something all of the time, it creates things inside you. Both good things and bad things, and in me, the church certainly created good things,

but it also created bad things, and one of those things was cynicism. 

Growing up in the church for me looked a lot different than it did for my peers. Church was always a family event for everyone around me. Kids would ride to church with their parents, sit with their families in the blue pews and then all go to lunch together after the service.

For me, church was lonely, at best. 
My parents went to separate churches.

They had their reasons. My mom played in a worship band with another church, and my dad took me to church so I could be with my friends, but it was never a family event, from childhood into middle school and high school, I felt mostly on my own.

When I entered the youth group - cue “youth Sunday” transition here - it was huge! The ministry was thriving, and the youth minister at the time, who was there from my 6th grade year to the end of my 9th grade year, took a lot of time and effort to grow our youth group. He poured into teaching, music and the experience of it all, and he even created a “youth council” of promising kids who were smart and involved to be the leaders of the group.

I was not in the youth council, and It was about the time I hit 8th grade that I felt like I didn’t fit the mold of a “youth leader.” Or that’s what I thought at the time, but really I think it’s just hard to pour into each and every kid on a personal level when there’s 150 of us running around. But still, that lonely, isolated feeling continued and fostered.

So that’s where my cynicism grew. Lots of questions left unanswered, bitterness and jealous of what I saw around me and didn’t have, but still yet, the church remained constant. It was a staple of life, and it was good.

When the first youth pastor our group had moved on, our youth group shrunk.. kind of like televisions did from the 90s to now. It took the church a while to find someone to fill in, but eventually they made a hire and things picked back up.

It was in that season, between my sophomore and senior year of college that not only did life start coming at me fast, but so did the intentionality of our new youth pastor, John. 

This was the season of life when not only was my cynicism was growing, but so was the sins of lust, lying and living for myself. 

And as my questions and struggles with sin grew, so did the opportunities for me to ask questions and understand grace with the help and listening ear of John.

John met me every Friday morning for breakfast. He entertained all my questions and doubts and helped me understand it was okay to have those questions and that someone else actually cared about me. And that’s a big reason why I am doing what I’m doing today. Having an adult, that wasn’t my parents, care about me as a smelly teenager, was vital. And if I can do that for another kid on any level, then I think that’s important. 

My biggest questions at the time were, what was that prayer I prayed that I barely remember from VBS? Did that count for anything? Does that count for everyone who closed their eyes that day? Is that salvation? And, we worked through those questions, and the more we did, the more I began to experience God’s grace through Christ for my mistakes, and that was salvation more than I had ever known. 

Growing up in the Church can be ugly, but isn’t It beautiful? 

The Church and leadership I grew up with had it’s brokenness, as we all do, but it also taught me much. It showed me who I was, Who I needed, and who that made me to be, in Christ.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: My story of rescue isn’t your story of rescue, but I hope you find it and tell it one day.

Time for Rest

My dad is a farmer. When I was growing up, he would teach me about farming using stories from the Bible. He would teach small lessons and big lessons, both practical and spiritual.

I remember one Saturday, he explained to me how fields need rest, just as people need rest. That whenever we plant a certain crop in a field one year, we can’t plant the same crop the next year. And every seven years or so, we didn’t plant anything at all. We let it rest.

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“For everything there is a season,
a time for every activity under heaven…
a time to plant and a time to harvest.
a time to be silent and a time to speak.

There is also a time to rest and a time to work.

Right now, it is time to rest, to rest from this platform.

I have spent the last six months cultivating this platform into a consistent place to create, post and process. As 2021 comes to a close, I feel it’s time to give the platform rest. To come back to it in the new year and see if I want to change it or keep rolling with the consistency that I have built.

I am slowly but surely finding my way to becoming a writer. To showing up day-in and day-out, punching the clock and hitting the keyboard, even when I don’t want to. And now, as the holidays arrive, the days get shorter and the nights longer, it is a time to rest here. While there may be an occasional post or thought, the next couple of months will be spent strategizing both at work and on the keyboard with what’s to come in 2022.

So, cheers to 2021, to consistency and to us all taking the small steps toward who we want to be.
Thank you for reading Cliff Notes;

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Rest is just part of the process.

Feeling Full

Last night, I had a lot to do after work. I needed to rake leaves, clean the house, stack fire wood and go to the grocery store. We’re preparing to host a party, and there are things that need to be done.

In all of the chaos, I had to find time to eat dinner. I opened up our freezer to pull out a frozen pizza we had, an easy, quick option that cooks while I continue to clean. As I was eating my fourth slice of pizza, a new thought I had never had before popped into my head: What all do I put in my body?

In that moment, I didn’t feel great about myself. One rarely does after they eat half a pizza, but this time, something stuck out to me. How much am I killing myself, taking years off of my life, for not eating like I should.

I go to the gym regularly, but I still eat like I’m in high school. Fast food doesn’t bother me, and neither does shoving my mouth full of sodium-packed frozen foods. Sure, a few of these options here and there aren’t bad at all, but the rate i’ve been going lately can’t be sustainable for good health.

It’s almost the New Year, and as cliche as it is, I think I’m going to make a resolution to eat healthier for the first time in my life, focusing on feeding my body the things it needs to be healthy and fueled, rather than eating to simply feel full.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: I’m not in high school anymore, so I should stop eating like it. More greens and less browns.

Short Seasons

Where I come from, the seasons are short.

Winter comes and goes with only a couple of snow falls to account for.
Spring rushes in with rain and humidity.
The humidity brings summer alongside it.
Fall arrives and disappears faster than the leaves do from the trees.

But maybe that’s where we all come from - places where the seasons seem short.

We are often in a complex. We want what we do not have, and we want to be where we are not. We long for a world that isn’t our present, and we get caught up missing where we are for where we wish.

This weekend I took my favorite scenic drive in SE Oklahoma. That’s where the leaves change most dramatically in our state. On the drive, I found myself wishing I had gone earlier in the year to see more trees. But then also wishing I had gone later in the year because maybe it would have been colder and cloudier, more dramatic.

The entire time I was wishing, I was missing where I was and the beauty that was around me. I let regret take hold instead of letting the peacefulness of the place I was in have its time of rest in my soul.

I missed out, and I took a note for next time: to embrace the world as it is around me.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Feel the breeze on your face; smell the scent of the trees; taste the coffee; see the beauty. Breathe deeply.

What Unity Lacks

There’s a quote I came across from American writer, David Dark after the US Capitol attack in 2021.

“Unity without reckoning is marketing.”

I haven’t read much of his work, but this statement shook me to my core for a couple of reasons. One, because it contains the word ‘reckoning,’ which as far as words go, is as strong as the final dregs of your grandpa’s cocktail. But it shakes me even more so because I can put myself at the bookends of this quote. I am both:

1. a person passionate about unity, and

2. a person with a career in marketing

And so while I often speak of unity, I’m terrified that all that will come out of my life is the marketing of unity’s goodness and potential, without any real action toward it. Because action and reckoning are really what unity need.

True unity calls humans, as God’s creation, toward true confession and recognition of mistakes and toward reconciliation. There must be an agreement that mistakes have been made, that there should be accountability held for those mistakes, and that at the end of the road, grace and forgiveness await.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Reckoning does not have to be a part of cancel culture. It can instead be full of rehabilitation and life.

Why is Resting Difficult?

It’s Friday morning before work. I’m drinking a cup of coffee, and there’s cool jazz music playing in the background while the sun comes up from behind our fence line in the backyard. The world looks still.
But it doesn’t feel like it.

I can hear traffic coming from the expressway to the west of us, and like the cars, my mind is racing.

I’m not sure why it’s so hard for me to rest, both in mind and body, but it is. Even in the moments that feel like they should be most restful, my mind carries to things I could be or should be doing. Tomorrow the weekend starts, and rather than rest, I see a list of things I need to get done.

How do we rest when the world continues to add onto our to-do list?

I’ve tried breathing deep.
I’ve tried focusing on what I can control.
I’ve tried not getting distracted.
I’ve tried a lot of things.
But still have not found the right thing.

You probably know by now that this blog rarely ever contains answers. Rather, it contains questions and problems that I believe we all struggle with in life. I think that’s the point of it - to be with you in your own questions and problems and let you know that you’re not alone.

So, as you seek rest, so I do. Let’s just both not stop seeking and let those around us help us slow down, breath and realize there will always be work to be done - and it can wait until tomorrow if it needs to.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Seek rest, even when you can’t seem to find it.

Problems with Evil & Suffering

Our world has a terrible history to its credit.

Global hunger.
Genocide.
Racism.
Abuse.
War.

To name a few.

How does anything good ever come out of what we take in?

We read about these things in history, science and sociology classes, and we rarely read about the good that comes out of these things. Sure, if you read about:

Global hunger while living in America
Genocide while living a world away from it
Racism as a white man
Abuse as an abuser
or War as a victorious country

Then you might be able to read about some good between the lines because of hindsight or privilege. But what about the history books from the other side?

The problem with evil and suffering is a problem humanity will always wrestle with. If you’re religious, you might call it sin, if you’re not, you might call it what it is and that it’s here to stay. But no one really has a great answer for the why of it all… I read the Bible, so I try to see hope there. I try to see how “God makes all things for His good and His glory,” but often times, there’s not enough time to have the hindsight to see those things come to reality in our own lifetime.

History is messy. The world is brutal. Life is difficult.
On small scales personally and on large scales globally.

But where does one find their hope?

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Evil isn’t everything.

Cosmic Promises

An old family friend used to tell me that, “God’s promises are greater than life’s problems.”

I always liked that saying, from the way it roles off of the tongue to the truth that the words themselves contain. It’s a saying that’s also hard to believe in moments when I’ve needed to hear it most. Hard times make it hard to believe there can be any promises of good being kept, in seasons of waiting, doubt and difficulty.

But today, I had promise fulfilled. It’s been 13 years in the making, but fruition finally showed its face.

Ever since I was a 17-year-old, I wanted to work as a youth minister. And I genuinely believed God wanted me to, as well. Until now, the timing was never right, and the opportunity was never there, but today, God said, “Remember my promise?”

I had a real meeting with a real church leader about a real opportunity to help impact youth kids at the church my wife and I go to, and it reminded me of God’s real promises - God’s promises for good, even when we forget about that.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: “God’s promises are greater than life’s problems.”

Pressing Pause

It’s 7:08a, and it’s mostly dark in our home. There’s a lamp on in the corner of the house, while the sun is just starting to peak through some of the slow rolling clouds outside the window in the den. It’s chilly outside, too. This is the first time this fall that we’ve needed to turn on our heater, so our home has that warm, welcoming feeling as you walk across the rug to sit on the couch with a morning cup of coffee.

While I sit here, I’m thinking about a conversation I had yesterday with a friend, who’s also a writer. We were talking about why we never talk about our writing or why we never promote it to anyone. We talked about how we would much rather our writing stay tucked away for the world not to see. Not because our writing isn’t good, his is great, but because the world will find it and can ruin it. We talked about how the world can also ruin us. How something we write or have written in past years could be dug up and spun into something it was never meant to be. How someone can twist our words, once used for good, and turn them into something damning. Because that’s what the world wants to see these days.

The world wants to see perfection. It wants to see justice. It wants to see reckoning.
And I don’t blame it. I want those things too.

But now, the world leaves little room for mistakes, little room for grace and little room for peace.

I hope we soon found out how we can have all of these and hold them equally, without the objective of ruining each others lives, but rather have an objective of help other build better ones.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Don’t hit cancel; press pause.

Screentime & Stress

In 2016, I got my first “real” job, a job that would require me to sit at a computer all day. I would write content, create graphics, edit photos and post on the companies social media accounts for 8-10 hours each day.

I got a lot of headaches at that job.

As I switched up jobs and continued to sit at more computers, the headaches continued, and I began to wonder, “Are these screen headaches or stress headaches?”

Both can be fixed. There are blue light glasses available, and stress can be managed, but one of those fixes is easier said than done.

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The other day, I saw a job posting from the University of Kentucky basketball program. They were hiring a digital media manager role, much like the role i’m in now and much like the role I was in when I got my first “real” job. The major difference was, the University of Kentucky was only going to pay $20,000/year for the job to be done, which wasn’t much different than I made at my first job.

An unfair and abusive use of an employee.

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I think the world sees digital media marketers as less-than. They see social media and think, “Anyone can do that, why should I pay much for it.” When those of us in the industry know that’s note the reality. Digital media and social media are stressful. It requires a person to always be connected, always be on call and always be the funnel of the dissemination of all information and storytelling. You’re at the mercy of everyone around you, and most times, no one understand the work involved.

This creates a lot of screen time. This creates stress. This creates headaches.

At the end of the day, if you’re in digital marketing, take care of yourself. Take breaks, know your limits and know where you can push back and say, “This is too much.” Because in a world that’s full of content being put out 24/7, sometimes it’s okay to say, “This is too much.”

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Headaches can be avoided if I look out for myself.

Leading with Light

I’ve never started a blog post off with a definition before, but I’m going to revert back to middle school on this one and kick it off with this from Merriam Webster.

Leader - “a powerful person who controls or influences what other people do : a person who leads a group, organization, country, etc.”

I’ve never looked up the definition of leader before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting something that vague.

Growing up, we’re all taught that leaders are successful.
Leaders of the class.
Captains of the team.

The list goes on.

But the word “leader” alone leaves much to be desired. Sure, it’s a powerful person in control.
But what about the adjectives that should go alongside leader? The traits.

Good leader.
Team leader.
Brave leader.

The list goes on.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the type of leader I am and about the type of leader I want to be.

Right now, I’m not a very positive leader. I lean toward pessimism, and I that brings down the team I’m on.
Rather, I want to be a team builder, a contagiously positive leader, and I want to be a leader others look to as a source of sunshine.

Leaders are all around us, and as we are led, we can learn how we currently lead and how we want to lead. There is always a chance to grow, to learn and to lead.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Lead with Light.

Finding Strength in My Weak Arm

“Hakuna Matata” is tattooed on the inside of my left bicep. Most of the time, I think that part of the body is reserved for other words. Words like “strength,” “carpe diem” or a family surname. Sometimes even barbed wire. But as for me, I went with a quote I first learned in a Disney movie.

Often times, I forget why I have tattoos, while often forgetting about them all together. Much like hair and fingernails, they ultimately just become part of one’s body. But really, they’re much more than that. They’re more than part of a body, they represent part of one’s story.

This morning, I read Philippians chapter four for the first time in several years. Initially, that was the chapter that inspired me to get “Hakuna Matata” written on my skin. There’s a line in that chapter that tells people to not worry, but to pray instead, not only asking God for what you need, but also thanking God for all one has, ultimately leading to ultimate peace. I think it helps put life into perspective when we can focus on all we have been Given and be grateful for it, while simultaneously knowing how we are Provided for in our need and worry.

I think there’s a lot of truth in that, and today, I’m thanking God for the reminder of why I have that tattoo on my left arm. I’m also asking God for the discipline and drive I need to continue typing these words. And in that, I am finding peace.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: No worries, just prayers.

Death Row

Imagine watching death.

Imagine watching death by choice. To tell a story.

Imagine seeing a human lay down on a table in front of you, restrained, waiting for death to take them.

Death comes through the door in a uniform, shirt tucked in.

Death carries a needle. Actually, make that three needles.

The human screams, seeing death too.
And pretty soon, we’re all screaming.
One of us on the outside. The rest of us on the inside.

Death enters the human body. Vomit exits the human body.
Death enters the heart. Life leaves the human.

Death is unimaginable until it’s real. In front of us, or in us.

Death shouldn’t be this way. We shouldn’t watch it this way, like a movie on a screen.

But we do. And we write about it, as I did.
Because maybe, just maybe, stories can change the narrative.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: This is a refection moments after reading about the execution of John Grant, a death row inmate who was imprisoned in Oklahoma for more than 20 years. I don’t know much about judgement. I am not the judge. But some people are, and some people have to make decisions that end a life like this. I don’t know if I will ever understand.

Holiday Thoughts in October

It’s October 28, and that means the holidays are creeping up. Halloween, but also Thanksgiving and Christmas. This will be the first year for the holidays for my wife and I. The first year we’ll have been married for them, and the first year in our own home for them. Exciting times.

Planning for the holidays takes a lot of planning. I never gave it much thought before because I’ve never had to, but it seems to take some thought to figure out traditions, meals and activities, especially if one is hosting the holiday themselves. It would be absurd to hold oneself to a movie’s standard of holiday festivities, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Call me Chevy Chase.

I’m writing this to hold myself accountable - I don’t want to be consumed by the holidays and miss the real meaning for each celebration. I’m the type of person who wants everything to be perfect, always. And that is impossible with holidays. I always want to make sure everyone is happy and that the food is perfect, and in that:

-I don’t want to lose sight of time with everyone I love, which is precious.
-I want to give thanks to God.
-I want to reflect on the histories of why we celebrate and remember.

The holidays are holidays for a reason. It’s more than food and presents. Let us remember those reasons.

-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Let the holidays unfold themselves, with the love of those around you. Some planning may be required.