Cynicism

My church hosted the Orange Tour this past fall. It's an exciting two days of main sessions and breakouts and providing a physical space and environment for ministry leaders to refill. It truly is one of my favorite events of the year. An honor to be a part of the hosting. 

One of the breakout sessions this time was led by Carey Neuiwhof called "7 something habits for leaders something something." Sometimes those titles are cliche to me, but I decided to sneak in and listen because I like the things Carey does. So, I snuck in the back and started to listen. 

He was talking about leadership and unhealthy habits that we don't see coming. 
And then he started talking about cynicism. 
And then I started to get uncomfortable. 
I headed to the bookstore, bought the book, and read the first chapter in the lobby during breaks.

Umm yeah. I am cynical. 

The sentence that really got me - "cynicism is born not because you don't care, but because you do care."
I CARE. I CARE SO MUCH. About the world and about politics and about the criminal justice system and about the state of our country and the influence of the Church and about my vocation and my calling and about you and about me. The tension of the news tears me apart. The frequency in which Christians turn on one another keeps me up at night. The plight of the Church is a lifelong calling. It's all so much and I care so deeply. And so, lately, the only way to survive is to give up. 

How tremendously sad. Cynicism is a tragedy. 

I didn't used to be this way. I am a natural problem solver at heart. You've heard me talk about it before - I am an Enneagram Type One and so I am naturally driven and analytical. A world set right is a dream. I thrive on creativity and using my brain space for the good of others. I am naturally curious - I believe curiosity is our most holy gift - and I am a question asker at heart. But lately, I can't find an outlet that satisfies my internal frustration. All the time, it threatens to overtake me. My personal circumstances and the circumstances of the world are numerous. LET'S MAKE IT BETTER. But when there are barriers that I feel like I cannot cross, my creativity is stifled. And then I feel stifled. It's why #thethirdthing has been so life-giving. 

All of that to say, it is a dangerous place to be. I feel it affecting every core of my being. 

Carey writes in his book that curiosity is the antidote to cynicism. I see that and I hear it and I tip my hat to it. But I think, well, curiosity is a part of what got me here in the first place.

So, maybe on a practical level, the answer is curiosity. Never stop asking questions, return to the root of how and who God made you to be, take time to dream. All good things, all great things. But maybe there's a deeper answer. Maybe it's more about surrender than anything. A conviction that we live in the "already, not yet," in the very tension of both the death of this world and the resurrection of the Kingdom. The process of refinement and rejuvenation is hard, but each moment is holy. There are parts of my story that are riddled with wounds, but I can choose. I can choose to become cold and hard or I can choose to return these things back to the One who is always on the move.

But also, there's great value in discerning when cynicism may be telling you something else. When a physical surrender may be what God is asking you to do. Maybe the roots have stopped growing and sprouting because the soil has gone dry. And that's something to grieve, but not something to stop the flow of hope in your life. 

Hope is oxygen. 
Okay, back to my book.