The Greatest Gift I Gave Me

In 2006 I started a tradition, I believe the standard is that it takes 3 years to be a true tradition, so this year I guess it’s official. I decided that for my birthday I would benchmark/chronicle my life by writing myself a letter each year. When I started I had no idea what I was doing, or what it may yield, but at the time I was at a place where I saw fit to create a beacon to get back to that time in my life. Believe me I know this sounds like a novelty that a teacher would force upon a student as a cute literary and inspirational exercise…and I guess that’s not too far off. I have made a commitment to read them only around my birthday or the weeks leading up to it to prepare my thoughts, and then to put them away for the rest of the year…it has been a great gift from past tense me each year.

As I recall 2006, the year I wrote the first letter, it was a really hard year for me. By no means did anything catastrophic happen, and in no way were the challenges I faced earth shattering or insurmountable, it was just a difficult time for me. For whatever reason or reasons it was like I couldn’t get the ground beneath my feet, I had a general imbalance about me that was terribly frustrating. Every time I thought I had gotten through the worst of it, something new would emerge…it felt very much like the year of no respite. Yet despite all that, each year I read a letter from someone who found immense joy and peace despite those things.

I guess despite all my uncertainty, all the challenges and all the discomfort I did remember a few things that were inalienable that let joy prevail in my life. As I go back and read these letters, it’s amazing to reflect on where I’ve been. I don’t know how it worked out so well, but some of the tidbits I wrote in that first letter have been profound in keeping my heart and soul healthy and rooted in purpose, and on the right track. It’s sometimes easy to so caught up in where we are, what we’re doing, and where we think we’re going it’s easy to forget where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. Below are a few of the reminders over the past few years which I have left myself to remember where I’ve been…for what it’s worth here are a few themes that have shown up in my letters that have been encouraging for each of the past years.

1. A reminder of who I am – this seems trivial, but I am about as ADD as they come, and often times I get so wound up, distracted, and move so fast that sometimes its I forget who I am in my heart of hearts.
   
2. A reminder that God made me, God chose me to be his, that he loves me, and that I’m a steward of his work. I love the infinite “specialness” that is God’s creation work…I need to remind myself that God made me on purpose, to love doing specific things, to love people in specific ways, and most importantly to love him. This to me is no small deal, and can revolutionize the way you look at every moment of your life…if you let it.
3. A reminder to hold on to nothing, one of my best friends taught me 3 important words, “Let it go”. I believe that there is only so much room in our hearts, if we choose to hold on to too much of the hurt, the heartache, and the pain of this life, undoubtedly we will be embittered and callous patrons of this life. If we let that stuff go and melt away, we make room for love, joy, and peace that only God provides.
4. A reminder to keep “doing”…one of my biggest self identified risks is the risk of not doing anything. I need to be gently spurred to keep being outbound with my life, to make something of every minute of every day, I know this seems like stuff you’d read on a graduation card, but it’s worth repeating, it’s worth pursuing, and it’s worth living out each day
5. Finally, I remind myself to love people in my life freely and recklessly, this may be the single most important thing that past tense me has done for present tense me. It is really hard, to really love. When we open our hearts it makes room to get hurt, be let down, be disappointed…past tense me knew that, and saw firit to encourage present tense me to love anyways. It is a scary conviction to have, but I really believe that if we want to do anything with ourselves, it has to begin and end with love.
   

These letters have been a huge blessing in my life, and have been a great source of reflection each year, and while it feels like the distant past, it’s quite familiar. I know that I’m prone to wander, and while this is the case, each year I get a reminder of where home is.
I always seem to be on airplanes when I write these things…but that is probably circumstantial versus intentional, and oddly this week I’m flying to New York, which just so happens to be where I was flying from when I wrote my first letter. Sometimes life affords us beautiful poetic symmetry…

I’m not sure what I’ll write this year but I hope my letter makes it to future me, and I hope future me is encouraged by whatever it is… I’m thankful to have friends and a family who love me and make my life truly special.

Glad to have made it so far,
CP
http://Chrispanoff.blogspot.com

Oh the Humanity!

It’s amazing to me to think that this post marks approximately 1 year of blogging. While my time spent writing has been sporadic, and clearly all over the map in terms of content, I selfishly couldn’t be more pleased with what this process has yielded in me personally. It may be selfish, but time and time again, I am reaffirmed in the benefit of putting myself out there, imperfections, insecurities and all. It seems that every day I am reminded that life is not about what we harvest, it is about the seeds we sew…and in this life we may never see the fruits of our work, but that fact is not an excuse, but rather an exercise in humility, diligence, and patience.

Over the past few weeks, I have been all over the place, I’ve had some high highs and some low lows, and despite it all I’ve somehow ended up in a place where I receive the all too familiar reminder of that life is not easy by any stretch for anyone, but it is good.


Last weekend I was with my family in Colorado and I had the awesome opportunity of heading out on a bike ride up a mountain pass. I left Estes Park, Colorado (altitude 7,000 ft) and headed up into the hills for the next 2+ hours to arrive just shy of 12,000ft, literally all uphill. All morning long it was slow steady progress, as I grinded away over the dozens of switchbacks, each pedal stroke a reminder of the shape I used to be in. Each tier of the ascent was like a new layer of the world was peeled back, and as I looked out along the mountains that sat on the horizon the World around me expanded..truly spectacular. With each meandering turn the air slowly thinned, my pulse quickened, yet despite my increasing strain I was reminded that in life (and in the mountains), that in order to have mountain top moments, we must first climb out of the valley…and sometimes those climbs are long and painful....the above picture is from half way up the mountain.


When I fail to venture out into the unknown spaces of this life, and sit quiet and content in the face of this life’s challenges, I know I miss out on the fullness and richness of life that is out there. It is as if we as people despite our deepest hunger, will not eat an apple because at its center, awaits a core. This life has thousands of things that are hard about it, and we can choose to make the fact that life is hard the centerpiece of the story or a sub plot. Whether it be uncertainty, fear, or discomfort that keep us from heading up the slopes of this life, we must press on…as Winston Churchill said, “If you’re going through hell…keep going.”… The sad part about my morning ride was that I almost traded the view and the satisfaction the hard climb brought for a quiet painless morning on the couch.


So even despite the fact that life feels a lot like a long infinite uphill climb, we must climb on. There are a lot of things that I know I must do that scare me to death, there are a lot of questions whose gaping uncertainty paralyzes me, and I am sure that despite my best efforts to climb, I will certainly stumble and end up in the valley over and over, however, I’m committing to dust myself off, pick up my head, push toward the summit. Yeah life deal’s some hard blows sometimes, but that’s life…me must learn to carry on.


In it all there is a balance to be had between the ferocity with which we live and the love that we give. We mustn’t let our desire to surge onward be done at the expense of the other travelers with us on this rocky road called life. In the end we must learn to live like the lion, and love like the lamb. Living life with a furious indifference to it, loving wildly, fearlessly, and with reckless abandon for those we love, but never compromising compassion, tenderness, or sincerity.


Christ’s ministry was founded on the principle of radical love; and loving as Christ loves requires us to recklessly love and pursue Christ’s people (aka All people). We are not afforded the luxury of choosing who loves us, but rather, we are afforded the luxury and given the invitation of loving, period, hard stop.


In the end, there is much to be done in this life, and while I do yearn to change the world and impact thousands and millions of lives…I realize that in order to change millions of lives, I must do so one at a time, with simple and small change. Being kind, loving others, making people smile, helping them laugh, loving in real ways…loving.


I don’t know who reads these posts, nor am I concerned. I just know this is part of putting my life to work and doing what it takes to climb some of the steep slopes. I hope you realized that a year ago, when I started the “Open Book Project”, it was not without fear or hesitation, and even to this day it is not without reluctance that I open my heart to the world to see the humanity in me, but it is the people around me who inspire me to keep climbing, keep loving, keep going, press on towards Christ…it is those who climb with me who keep me climbing.


Thank you for giving me the opportunity to open the book of my life to you all. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for loving me. Yet, it is my fervent hope that you might not see me in all these things, but rather that I would be merely a reflection of the light of God.

A year later, in a vastly different place, yet a place that seems quite familiar…planting seeds where I can.
CP
http://chrispanoff.blogspot.com/