Winning the Battle of the Mind

Recently I found myself in a familiar battle — the battle of my mind.  For me at least, I find I’m deceived and deluded at times, and my mind threatens to leap off great precipices into unknown and perilous abysses.  Not always, but often enough.  I think it’s pretty normal for many of us.  

Anxiety is often a sign that we’re imperilled spiritually, especially when we’re tempted to see others as enemies.  A form of cognitive bias imagines others motives as bad and ours as good (technical name: motive attribution asymmetry).  We need to overcome this bias by seeing it for what it is and agreeing to change our minds.  

Winning the battle of the mind means we acknowledge that spiritually we don’t ‘wage war’ with flesh and blood but with powers in the spiritual realm — powers that battle for control of our minds, wishing to influence our hearts, contorting our feelings.  

Winning the battle of the mind starts with an openness of heart.  It takes humility to be open to reflect on being wrong.  None of us enjoys this.  But it is key to relating well with others.  It is also key to being at peace with ourselves and God.  

If I can genuinely ask the question of myself, “Could I be in error (even in part) here?” I stand at the doorway of my relational freedom with others.  

“Where I have offended them, I can work my way back.”  

“Where I have created distance by my actions, however well intended I was, I can foster forgiveness through apology.”  

The good thing about accepting our responsibility to correct ourselves when we’re wrong is that we have power to influence ourselves.  We don’t have that power of influence over others.  

The peace of God is ours when we live right with others.  When we have won the battle of the mind and we no longer see others as enemies.  

What a beautiful world we can enjoy when we’re not demonising people.  

Of course, there will always be those who don’t party along such lines.  Let them.  For us, however, there is life to be had in reconciliation with those who also wish to live this way — happy to be wrong, willing to initiate the reparative work of relating one with another in humility.

The darkness of the depressed descension

The darkness descends with no announcement but its very presence.  

Suddenly out of nowhere, the mind vacuous somehow, the body emptied of energy, the spirit bereft of the purpose to exist.   

Nobody can discount the enigma of the depressed descension; it confounds ‘the best of us’.  Indeed, the times we most think we’re beyond its ravages is the time we may be most vulnerable.  

Like loss and grief, depressed moments, and clinical depression, are respecters of no persons.  I’ve met 50-year-olds who were stunned when they plummeted for the very first time into the abyss of a mental health crisis.  

I normalise it here for you.  You are one-in-two.  50 percent of people will suffer some form of depressed descension in this day.  And we can think of it as a gift even if it’s terrible.  

It’s a gift because it opens our eyes to the horror of debilitation, to the presence of despair despite the apparent hope all around us.  Once our eyes have been opened to these horrors it piques the conscience of our sensibility.  Compassion comes alive in us!  

Think of a world where every single human being is blessed with the gift of compassion.  What a beautiful world that would be.  It is better to be compassionate than not be.  

But that is not our world, and at times it can be something other humans do that disrupts our spirit, triggering us.  There are just as many times when we’re perplexed and have no rationale for why we feel the way we do.  Be validated, this is normal, and no amount of searching will uncover it until we make meaning of it at a later stage.  

Peace can seem impossible amid the battle.  The more we let go and let God, the quicker peace re-enters our life.  The wisdom of lament advises us to divest the frustration and anger and invest in the truth of how we feel — it’s sorrow or fear.  

If we can go to our sorrow and face it as it is, nothing will overcome us.  Nothing overcomes us when we accept this state we, in this moment, cannot change.  

The depressed descension is a horror to our anticipation.  If we can sit with it, pour out our heart, surrendering to it, we may more easily rise out of it.  

Go gently with yourself, gentle soul.  Fret not, it only takes us to darker places.  Get some support around you, and reach out to Him who hears your soul cry.  

When Failing Is Succeeding

None of us plans to fail.  None of us likes to fail.   But fail we will!  

We know that striving for success inevitably leads us to deplore ourselves when we fail.  

We cruel ourselves in fear, guilt,
and shame when we fail.

One of the greatest gifts of growth in life is when we’ve let go of our perfectionism — suddenly we’re able to experience the simplest joys from our work.  They are suddenly within reach when we’re not looking for the problems within it.  

And when we lower our standards of ourselves,
we lower our standards of others,
and we are more loving and less judgemental.  

In recent days, I’ve performed several public speaking roles, moderating a panel at a conference, awarding an award at a ceremony, preaching a sermon at church, delivering an ‘industry address’ at the Governor’s Chaplaincy Awards.  Whilst I did all these speaking tasks capably, the way they were delivered was far from perfect.  Would I have liked to have done them better?  Yes, but… I think it’s more important to lead in not being perfect — to show people there is dignity in part failure.

I’m comfortable with being conspicuously average or even under par — because I’m not perfect and never will be.  I even catch myself giving the chase for perfection away — it’s a beautifully freeing thing to do.  

If I’m not good enough for some people and situations, so be it.  Why should it bother me?  If it did bother me, I’m sure I wouldn’t be capable of doing what I do because my increased anxiety would get the better of me.  

Here is a paradoxical thesis for you:
FAIL and do so with joy.  

I’m not suggesting you fail at anything that hurts others, but fail at something that bruises your ego.  

When we achieve this, we have put one of our fears into the shade and it no longer has any power over us.  We can allow ourselves the imperfections due to any human being.  

If we can understand and forgive failure in ourselves,
we can understand and forgive failure in others.  

~~~

The problem with perfectionism is we can NEVER achieve it.  

It sits ever there on the horizon, five kilometres away, always promising to be seen but impossible to reach.  What folly to chase it like the wind.  

Better by far to go gently with ourselves in conspicuous moments of failure that reveal themselves to us in guilt or shame.  

Here’s a practice for you: fail.  Yes, you saw that word and noticed it’s a verb.  You can DO it.  Again, I’m not suggesting you fail at anything that hurts others, but something that hurts your ego.  

Fail well and we show humility — a much prized character trait.  

Let the cards fall where they will, and then experience the power of living without that fear.  

So when is failing succeeding?  When we can consistently forgive ourselves in failure we are successfully living with more joy and freedom.

The Love Languages of Pastoring

I love coffee and drinking it with others is a favourite pastime — especially supporting people who are going through a tough time.  

But it got me thinking about what people being supported might prefer.  Does everyone go for the “quality time” of spending time with a pastor or chaplain, or do people prefer other forms of support?  Certainly, drinking tea and coffee together is a common mode of care in receiving pastoral care, counselling, wisdom, mentoring, etc.

When I reflect, there are people I’ve supported who have not so much needed or even wanted my time.  Some just appreciated a simple word of encouragement or hope.  Some find incredible support in the concrete hope of verbal or written validation.  Some pick up these mementos of encouragement and re-read them (cards, notes, texts, emails) again and again.

I know others that simply like being helped practically — they who really like serving often like it when people serve them back.  It’s a unique form of consideration to help someone who is always helping others.  For many, it’s a practical love language; if they’re struggling, the offer of practical support is really appreciated.  

Some like getting a gift or giving a gift, loving with a tangible generosity.  Many people feel loved when they receive a thoughtful gift, just as some feel loved when a person receives with gratitude a gift they’ve given.  

And particularly in my work supporting firefighters and emergency services personnel the physical touch of hugs often works well.  There are some situations where I’m cautious of offering or giving hugs or other physical gestures, but there are times when it’s a great way of showing love.  

How do you like to receive support from your pastor?  

IMAGE: my 2025 Father’s Day gift from my five grandchildren.

What if in losing, we win?

This idea relies on having a faith in justice — an ultimate justice — a justice we could and should all fear with a good reverent fear; that there is One who sees all.  

What if in losing out to somebody — call it intimidation or manipulation or coercion — we won in terms of compensation?  What if every wound inflicted against us was brought to their account?  For them to repay.  What if?  What if the things we don’t own up to become part of the case against us?  What if none of us gets away with anything?  What if there is One who sees it all.  

I believe in this God.  I believe that the bad things I do and have done will be reckoned to me as judgement, but I also believe in Grace that covers it all — but that our acts really do echo in eternity.  What if justice is perfectly executed in the next life?  What if Ecclesiastes is right:

“Here now is my final conclusion: Fear God and obey his commands, for this is everyone’s duty.  God will judge us for everything we do, including every secret thing, whether good or bad.”  (12:13-14)

What if in losing when we do what is right, that One sees, the One that matters, and victory is imputed to us?  Even if it feels like and looks like defeat in this life.  

What if we could believe we really have cleared ourselves best when we get out of God’s way, and transfer the debts to ourselves to God?  

When we leave judgement to God,
we can let go of what we cannot control,
and peace is realised as we let go.  

We cannot change a person’s heart.  We can only speak truth in love — that’s our role.  Beyond this, we need to leave those who transgress us to the only One who can hold anyone to account.

I can’t think of a better way of living well, pleasing God and being impervious to the wiles of unscrupulous others, than getting out of God’s way, and blessing those who persecute us — as Jesus himself reminded us (Matthew 5:10-12; 5:44; John 15:20).

Of course, blessing those who persecute us can seem impossible, especially with a sincerely kind heart.  But when we take the opportunity to forgive the person in our heart who hurts us, we respond in the only godly way we can.  We prove that evil cannot have its way with us.  

It doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be consequences for the person acting belligerently.  There should be, and there is.  

It needs to be said that in getting out of God’s way we ought to cooperate with justice in this world when it catches up with the person who hurt us; that can certainly require courage, and humility.

The underpinning assumption in all this is that we live for the glory of One alone.  If we take life seriously enough to imagine our acts really do echo in eternity, we will do right and live right as much as we intentionally can.  

Justice in this world has its ultimate trial before God.  Each judgement will be tried.  Each unfair verdict will be righted.  There is a time.  

Our Responses Reveal Us

It dawned on me afresh recently that our responses to others reveal more about us than they reveal about the person we’re reacting to.  

On a worldly level, we may be forgiven — or at least understood — for reacting to others’ poor attitudes and behaviour.  But our acceptance that we cannot change or control other people is made operationally noticeable here, when we do not react or respond in ways that only result in us ‘judging’ others.

The inappropriate behaviours of others are witnessed by others.  We’re often not the only ones to see.  And our calling these behaviours out needs to be done in such a way that we actually endeavour to hold the person doing the inappropriate behaviour to account.  

There is a subtle though stark difference between highlighting behaviour to embarrass or belittle and otherwise responding in quieter ways that sincerely seek to nip the inappropriate behaviour in the bud.  One response is crass, the other is transformational.  

Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit,
a sign that wisdom reigns,
and to withhold a response
is to weigh the witness
of behaviour that all can see.  

Accepting that we can no sooner control the behaviour of others as it’s already done, there is wisdom to watch and to record and to wait.  As a general rule, we all reap what we sow in a cause-and-effect world; the eternal perspective from the rule of faith is that everyone will be brought to account.  

Being able to allow others the dignity to behave as they decree, our focus is intrinsic to responding in ways that are right for the time and situation — not coerced by pressure to right the wrongs the way WE judge is right.  Our focus is not to be deflected by our judgment of another’s action.  Our focus is to be fixed on what we’re accountable for alone.  

When we react to others’ behaviour, at times we get it wrong or we go over the top.  It is very hard to see the error in others correctly whilst also finding the right words and deeds of response.  Too many factors blur us, including our biases.  And when we get it wrong — and often we will — it goes against us, not the person we’re commenting on.  

When we exhibit self-control, we exhibit the peace that accepts the things we cannot change — in this case, other people’s behaviour.  And we look wise, simply because we have resisted the urge to act.  Much of wisdom is inaction.  In life, wisdom often equates to ‘less is more’.  And in the mode of inaction, reflecting and weighing whether we ought to act or not, we’re more likely to respond in good ways.  

When we ‘react’ to others’ negative or inappropriate ways, we can inadvertently attract non-productive and self-defeating attention to ourselves where justice may be failed.  

Considered responses give justice its opportunity that truth would reign. 

Reflections 11 Years After Disaster Struck

ELEVEN years ago, on a cool, sunny Tuesday morning, we endured the worst surprise — news that changed the course of our lives.  This year’s July First is a Tuesday morning, as it was then.

11 years ago this July 1st, about 11:30 AM,
our world changed, for disaster had struck.  

Not only were we destined to lose our precious Nathanael four months later, that period of life was to become an uncertain storm-tossed journey — yes, 122 days of occasional numb and often sad days, some with the most harrowing hours full of tortuous minutes. 

As that massive storm approached, dark melding into dark on the far horizon, clouds of uncertainty combining with clouds of tempestuousness, building layers bleak upon bleak, with peels of thunder and lightning flashing all around us at times, we staged ourselves for danger, our faith and many prayers carrying us through that four-month series of crises, and in the months of grief that followed such a traumatic stillbirth.

~ ~ ~

JULY FIRST each year is special.  The pain felt in 2014 is very different to the redemption of peace within the sea billows of sorrow that roll wistfully now.  There is something irrepressibly healing in the sorrow that can only be redeemed in the peace of the Lord.  We can say this having heard the powerful story of a pastor friend and his wife having had their perfect baby boy having been told their baby may have had abnormalities.  We didn’t get that kind of miracle.

When Prayers Aren’t Answered

There is much more to be experienced in the life of faith than any of us are prepared to expose ourselves to.  But, as we know with grief, life exposes us to some things beyond our capacity to bear.  It wasn’t losing Nathanael that revealed to me what I’m about to share, but losing him reinforced this holy principle that is forever set apart from those who have never suffered.  I learned this principle I’m going to share through the grief of having earlier had God say ‘No!’ to my prayers for healing — for my first marriage. When God also said ‘No!’ to healing Nathanael as he grew in my wife’s womb toward that fateful day he was stillborn, we were granted entry into the deeper secret faith life that is available only for those whose prayers aren’t answered.  Yes, you read that right.  In not answering our prayers for healing and comfort to be given to us the way we wanted it, God gave us a comfort and a healing that blew apart our superficial notions of healing and comfort.  God blew those superficial notions away so we could enter something eternally deeper.

Today we are invited to sit and ponder our grief and to ask the God of the universe to show us the way to peace, even as grief threatens to tear us apart.  Peace doesn’t come overnight, but that journey of a thousand thoughts and million feelings along the way starts with that first, most bravest step today.  And it continues by humble patience and solemn acceptance of faith as each storm rises up within us, often when we least expect it to.

Over the years, I’ve written the following articles on the July 1st Anniversary:

Nine Years — Redemption of Peace with Sea Billows of Sorrow

Eight Years — The Longest of Afternoons, Evening, and That First Morning

Seven Years — The Impact of Those 8 Amnioreduction Procedures

Three Years — A Day That Changed the Course of Our Lives

Two Years — When a Routine Ultrasound Makes Ultrasounds Routine No More

It happened.  It was harrowing.  Yet in so many ways, and so many times, our experience has proven of value to others over the years.  This year, I just note that it’s the same weekday that the anniversary falls on — a Tuesday.  I’m so thankful for God’s presence with us at that time, and always, throughout the 4,018 days since 1 July 2014.

~ ~ ~

How to conclude?  The reflection is this: you do not know what tomorrow will bring, and you cannot prepare for the emotional and spiritual cost of that.  You’re eligible too — for pain that has no answer.  I have seen too much loss that swept into people’s lives like a whirlwind.  

Holding the moments of our lives lightly is the secret, knowing that one day it will be our day.

Wherever you are, live it.  Wherever you are, be all of you, there.  Make the most of the precious moment, boring or relentless.  Knowing one day it will be all over.  

Living as if life was all we had is the most important life lesson.  Wear your nice clothes.  Ask the riskier questions.  See what you can.  And always do the right thing, as much as that’s possible, for nobody is perfect.  Forgive others, and forgive yourself.  Never be lost in stolen moments.  And thank God for a good conscience, and for the power of apology to right a relational wrong.