Vigilance

“Be vigilant; guard your mind against negative thoughts!”

—Gautama Buddha

I have never in my life been angrier with God than I have been this past year. I shouldn’t be. I’m blessed beyond measure with an amazing wife, great children, a job I love, and a close-knit family where support, compassion, and joy is immeasurable. I feel selfish that my anger focuses on God’s inaction by allowing my mother to suffer through a tumultuous battle against terminal cancer. This blog post is a way for me to gain some perspective, sort through my anger, diminish negative thoughts, increase my vigilance, and find some peace in the arms of my God. Mom’s found it…she’s more in love with Jesus now than she’s ever been. Isn’t that typically the case?

The warm sun pours through the eight-foot-high windows of the west-wing of the Orange City Area Heath System—the hospice wing. I grab the corner pillar, glower up God, and weep uncontrollably. My daughter comes over to me and gives me a long hug and her love pulls me from my grief temporarily. My son asks if I’d like to play a game of chess. I agree with hopes of diverting my mind from where it’s dwelling onto something less morose.

I’m horrible at chess. I am exceptionally unobservant and I’m tactically impaired. Within a few moves, my son had already annihilated me. Why? Because I lack vigilance. My brother recently mentioned, during his best man’s speech at my wedding, that I’m a dreamer. Or as my dad so graciously put it, I—at least on occasion—have my head up my butt. My former coworker nicknamed me “The Happy Wanderer”. My head is always in the clouds because I dream…and I lack vigilance. There’s a proverb that reads: “At the end of every victory procession lies an open manhole.” Meaning, even when you think you’ve accomplished victory, don’t become over confident, throw your nose up in the air, and ride high on your horse, because you’ll fall straight down the manhole at the end of the parade route. Be prepared. Be vigilant. I know that I need to be more observant in preparation for that eventual manhole waiting for me at the end of my parade route.

After my embarrassing defeat to my teenage son, I tip my king over, lean back in the chair, and begin to listen to a conversation occurring between my siblings.

“Makes you wonder if you should have a scan performed every year just to make sure everything is okay,” my brother says to my sister. “Maybe these horrible things could be avoided if we did. Maybe doctors could catch these things sooner. Maybe we could prevent disaster, avoid tragedy, keep a careful and diligent watch for danger, disaster, and attack.”

Again…Vigilance. I think the biggest problem for me is I confuse vigilance with worry. There is, nonetheless, an enormous difference between the two. Vigilance is tactical, controllable, practical, and effective. Worry is impulsive, irrepressible, unviable, and incompetent. How unfortunate for me that I’m a proficient worrier who lacks vigilance.

As I read through my next passage in the book of Judges, I’m struck by a peculiar passage. Judah and Simeon start attacking the Canaanites to possess the land God promised them, and they chase down the Canaanite king, Adonibezek. When they catch Mr. Adonibezek, they cut off his thumbs and big toes, take him back to Jerusalem, and hold him there for an indefinite time. Later, while in Jerusalem, the king dies. Seems cruel to me, but this was an act of mercy. They would amputate thumbs and toes to incapacitate soldiers and impair them for future service. It’s difficult to swing a sword or pull a bow string without thumbs. It’s even more to march on the battlefield without your big toes (Judges 1:1-7). Judah and Simeon were vigilant instead of cruel here. They were saving the life of the king, while protecting their kingdom from future attacks. Win-win! Vigilant and merciful.

How can I learn to be vigilant without sacrificing the personality God so distinctly created to thrive within my own soul? How can I continue to dream while increasing my preparedness for inevitable evil and pain? How can I learn to be grateful for God’s providence and blessings amid grief? How can I prepare for danger, guard my mind and heart against negative thoughts, avoid worry, and dwell in peace? How can I, like my mother already has, dwell peacefully in the presence of God—this same God with whom I’d currently like to “THROW DOWN”!?!?