A year ago at this time I had never heard of Casey Tygrett. Now he is one of my new favorite authors. His words in his newest book, Becoming Curious, came at just the right time for me. If you are surrounded by people who don’t let questions linger in the air too long before they feel compelled to answer them, Casey’s words will be an anthem of hope for you, too. Grateful to introduce you to him here today.
I remember sitting in a night class, shoulders rounded, eyes heavy, crafting schemes to stay awake for the remainder of the time. The most nauseating method I had was to make a pot of coffee in the morning and let it sit all day, then pour equal parts cold coffee and Mountain Dew into a travel mug and hope for the best.
It was a long semester.
As I sat in that particular class, a handout landed on my desk. The first line caught and held me.
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. – The Invitation, Oriah Mountain Dreamer
In front of me, in my caffeinated haze, I saw a new question emerging. The question would move from the simulated adulthood of my college years to the grittier realities of family and work today.
What I recognize now is this: A job – your profit-making, mortgage-paying work – is good and necessary. You need to eat. You need to pay the bills. You need to wear clothes. Those are sorted and set aside.
But there is something else.
What I heard then – and what I hear now – in the first line to Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s epic poem was a deeper vein of gold running below the surface, below the obvious. To that point my whole life and faith had been wrapped up in definite answers and facts.
God is holy. You are not. So fix it.
In this line of thinking, aches and longings were actually part of the problem and needed to be solved rather than hopes and possibilities in need of exploration.
Here was a Bible college professor placing an idea in our minds that was quick and clean like lightning and just as explosive. What if, in the context of life and faith there was a space – a light and tidy space – to explore the aches and longings within us?
The ache of that dating relationship that isn’t what we had hoped or prayed for but we stay in it because we truly love that person.
The ache of that job, the drain and the strain of it, and the paradoxical joy that comes when the job allows us to live out our passion.
The ache of moving from one spiritual tradition or set of beliefs and understandings about God to another and the hard conversations with those who remain in the country we are leaving behind.
The ache of why she left and now I am raising a family on my own.
The aches of watching injustices accumulate like Michigan snow.
The longing to see beauty instead of only bland usefulness.
The longing to know something good that transcends the clock and moves into time that’s outside of time.
The longing not to simply work, but to create and bring beauty into the world with intensity and courage that surprises everyone – including ourselves.
The longing to let simple things like washing dishes, paying bills, and attending meetings become moments of wonder and miracle.
The ache and longing of being a caregiver to an ailing parent or partner, wanting what is best for that person in whatever shape and form they may require.
What do you ache for today?
Why?
What are you willing to do in order to find it?
What might God be welcoming you to explore, question, analyze, and re-envision in order to pour out those deep pings of your spirit in front of Him and onto your world?
Class ended and I took up my things: the mug with the half-ingested caffeine syrup and the poem that shifted my plane of vision.
Some years later, I look up from my desk. I see the poem tacked up on my bulletin board in an office where I hear from people whose expectations have been disappointed, teenagers who want to know that they’re valued and beautiful because they’ve heard a different story all of their lives, and marriages where what was attraction and mystery has faded to common space and quiet rejection.
So I ask the question: what do you ache for?
What if faith, God, and prayer are all about exploring those things?
What if the crisis in which we live is less about capturing the right answer and pacifying our image of God and more about learning to ask the questions that are already deep within?
We talk and I sip my tea. A new story starts to unfold.
Casey Tygrett is a pastor, writer and spiritual director living in Rockford, Illinois. His first book, Becoming Curious: A Spiritual Practice of Asking Questions is available now.
Learn more about Casey here on his website and find him on Twitter @cktygrett, where he will continue to say things like this: “Maybe your rich, honest, holy questions are more important than even your unshakable certainties.”
Uh-oh. This brought tears; you know what that means! Thanks for sharing it.
Absolutely beautiful! I am sharing with my husband and kids… it’s THAT important. Thanks so much for sharing.
Pay attention! Yes. Love it. Very good!
i feel the ache, but as i sat with the question i realized my initial answer is; “i don’t know.” a number of years ago i sat with a similar question in just the same way; Jesus: “what do you want…” (matt20:32), me:”i don’t know”
“What if faith, God, and prayer are all about exploring those things?
What if the crisis in which we live is less about capturing the right answer and pacifying our image of God and more about learning to ask the questions that are already deep within?”
thank you for the challenge, the encouragement, and the reminder to sit with my Shepherd and unanswered questions, not so much for answers, but to find rest for my soul.
Thank you so much for posting this. I really needed it today.
Hmmm…this is something I shall chew on. I do have some questions, I think. I’m glad to have read this.
My heart aches for our country right now. It aches for believers to shine their light brightly into all the darkness that feels like a fog right now. My heart aches for a revival. My heart aches for the few words I write to make a difference.
Well written, and so very thought provoking. I’ll be pondering… 🙂
Sometimes I wonder if I have too many questions. If they are annoying to those I love. If in asking them I’m somehow alienating myself from them. When I ask my questions in prayer, how do I know if I received an answer? I ache for exactly the same relationship, work and spiritual questions as the writer. I don’t know how to find the path to the answer…
I wonder, though, if in some ways the path *is* the answer. I know that sounds hokey maybe, but sometimes, at least for me, being willing to ask the questions, to carry them honestly and openly in the presence of God have drawn me closer to Him and in turn, helped me to know myself. I have experienced (not always, but in some cases) that my need for answers fades as I receive His presence with me in the asking.
Thank you. My mind is always a myriad of questions, ideas, and wanderings. I used to be upset because I thought my “daydreaming” wasn’t productive…ha. Now I know that because it’s the way God made me, it’s very “productive”.
I ache for lots of things. The ache is what motivates my world. I ache for beauty, for joy, for healing for every broken heart. I ache for every person to be all that God created them to be. For all of us to be free. Free indeed.
Hi Emily
Just read One Question That Could Change Everything. Here’s what I liked about it, and why. First off, I got curious by the title. What could that one question be? Secondly, I found the book title interesting that you write about – becoming curious.
I haven’t heard of Casey Tygrett until now, but he sounds worth reading. Thanks for introducing him to us. You’re right, a job is vital, and so is this ‘something else’ that comes next to it.
Sounds like an inspiring Bible college professor you had. I love when I experience this shift in perspective like you describe when we learn and see life from a new perspective, both in regards to faith-related topics, but also just in our daily life.
I ache for being a caring person both professionally and in my personal relations because I want to lift others rather than take them down. I seek to do whatever it takes on a daily basis to live according to this rule. Sometimes it’s difficult.
It’s a good question: What if faith, God, and prayer are all about exploring these things? Your point about life perhaps being less about capturing the right answers and more about learning to questions status quo could have far-reaching positive consequences if we take the leap of faith and see what’ll come out of such a journey.
Look forward to reading your next post, will share this one on Thursday.
Sincerely,
Edna Davidsen