The long way home ...

Got dropped off at my old "office" today – the Starbucks on Academy & Lanark. This winter, I moved to a new Starbucks in Tuxedo Village. Coming back to the Academy & Lanark store brought back waves of memories: writing sermons and essays; editing books; trading stocks; coding software; and, of course, drinking coffee (lots of it). One of my favorite memories is a meeting with Dave Balzer that led to a first appearance on the GodTalk radio show.

My afternoon at the Academy Starbucks was preceded by an unpleasant but not unnecessary reality check: a long conversation that was tremendously difficult, but incredibly powerful in its clarity. I don’t have these conversations often. I’m “too busy”. But I realized today that I’m too busy in large part because I lack the clarity and focus these conversations create. For the first time in a long time, the things that matter most appeared front and center in my mind ... and a lot of other things immediately fell off the wish list.

If I had the things that matter most, I wouldn’t want the other things.

“Good enough” is never good. And it's never enough. Ultimately “good enough” is not enough good ... and not enough God. “Good enough” can never get me to good. Trying harder won’t change "good enough" into good. Praying harder won’t do it. This is particularly true in relationships: if people in my life are happy with “good enough”, they’ll never want good (and I can’t make them want it).

I feel the church is guilty of something between gross negligence and grievous sin in its sanctification of "good enough". As a young follower of Jesus, I was presented with cavalier notions of life, love, and God. I was told that life was a mostly forgettable preparation for Eternity, that love was a superficial experience, and that conformity to a casual (careless) understanding of Scripture was a sign of God's will. I paid a huge price for these idiotic ideas: I threw away my 20's, I turned my back on true love, and I used the “will of God” as a sophisticated denial mechanism to cover up the loss.

In more recent years, I’ve discovered that life is a sacred trust (Matthew 25.14-30), that nothing is greater than love (1 Cor. 13.13), and that nothing less than "good and acceptable and perfect" can be called the will of God (Romans 12.2). When I embrace these notions of life, love, and God, I become aware of the incredible opportunities inherent in each moment. And I pray that I’ll never settle for good enough again.

Good things are happening in my life. New opportunities, new people, new possibilities. I can't enjoy them fully and completely if I make room for good enough.

When I walked home from Starbucks today, I came to an impasse: a low-lying footbridge submerged by the flooding of Omand’s Creek. I was forced to take the long way home, which brought to mind the 1979 Supertramp hit, Take the Long Way Home:

So when the day comes to settle down,
who’s to blame if you’re not around?
You took the long way home.


The song is a testament to a life of lost moments and missed opportunities. A life of trying to play the hero and winding up with zero. A life of giving oneself to causes, groups, and people that are happy with good enough. A life devoid of good. Autobiographical in more ways than I care to admit.

Today, I took the long way home from Starbucks and it cost me an extra 10 minutes. “Good enough” is long way home that will cost me a lifetime if I don't set my sights on good.

I'm grateful for all the good. I don't want to settle for "good enough".

He is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3.20).