“Potential” is a Dirty Word

I never thought I would start a blog post talking about football. Sorry, it’s just not my thing. But my husband Gary said something the other day that stuck with me. He said that in the NFL, “potential” is a dirty word.

When coaches and media talk about a player having potential, it means that although they are capable of great achievement, they have not yet captured it. There is a disconnect between what they should be able to do and what they are actually doing. In the NFL, no one wants to be labeled as having great potential.

Here is how that hits home. I grew up in a loving and supportive family with godly parents. My parents modeled to me what an authentic relationship with Christ looks like. They showed me Jesus in action. Basically, I have been given every opportunity to succeed and to thrive in my own relationship with Christ and to do God’s will. I know that not all have been so privileged, and I will never know the degree to which I should be grateful not having walked in the shoes of those less fortunate.

Today, I reflect on the question, “Have I captured my potential?” And to be honest, I feel a little uneasy. The answer stings a bit.

I made the decision to follow Christ, to be a disciple of his, when I was 12 years old—to follow this call: “Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.” (Mark 16:15)

Sometimes that call grows stale and distant. Words from well-known pastor Francis Chan surface from inside. They are eerily branded on my mind: “Are you truly a disciple of Christ if you are not making disciples?”

Ouch. It hurts to think about the opportunities that I have wasted. So what do I do to change things, to shift momentum?

I pray: God, make the most of me. Use every ounce of me for your purpose. I don’t want to squander opportunity. When I feel the Spirit pressing, I want to respond. When I have an inkling of, “I should do this,” I don’t want to wait.  

I want to trade uncaptured potential for purpose in practice—to trade the possible for the actual.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21)

I pray for courage to do his known and revealed will.

“This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:4)

How do I do his will practically? How do I capture potential? For starters, I have two little disciples in training right here at home. I have 18 years—talk about opportunity—to point them to Christ. So I model Christ to them.

I bring people into my home. I foster relationships for Him. I build new relationships for Him, breaking out of what is comfortable. I speak boldly on His behalf. Whatever I’m good at, I use the mess out of it. I expose it for the glory of the one who gave me that talent.

When I come to the end of my life, I don’t want to be known for having had great potential. I think of this old saying: “Reach for the moon. Even if you miss you'll land among the stars.” Well, the God who made both the moon and the stars, “who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20), can take my simple obedience to Him and add to the number of those who are saved. They will land beyond the moon and the stars—in a land much grander where potential is always captured.

“May the God of peace…equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” (Hebrews 13:20-21)

Why Blog?

I love Christian philosopher Edith Schaeffer’s statement: “Whatever form art takes, it gives outward expression to what otherwise would remain locked in the mind unshared…Art in various forms expresses and gives opportunity to others to share in, and respond to, things which would otherwise remain vague, empty yearnings.”

I truly identify with this sentiment. And those yearnings she speaks of—I feel them. That art form, in my case, is writing. One can learn so much about another’s heart and mind through his or her writing. And on the flip side, to be the releaser of thoughts and ideas through writing is freeing.

Martin Luther once said, “If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.” And then there’s Jesus Christ, who commanded me as a follower of his: “Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.” (Mark 16:15)

I don’t know about changing the whole world. That seems like a pretty big task. But I’ll write for anyone who may stumble across my words and care to listen.

Let me quote another wise man, who just so happens to be my husband Gary. He makes the task seem a little less daunting. “Tend your own garden. Do the work that is in front of you.” So I will tend my little garden; I’ll write for my little world.

But I don’t want this blog to be about me so much; I want it to be about what God is doing in me—through the wisdom of scripture, the power of prayer, the conviction of the Holy Spirit and the counsel of Godly friends.

Why the name “God Lens,” you may ask? Because my life looks different—clearer— when the God lens, that lens of truth, is applied to it—laid over it.

“For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.” (Hebrews 4:12)

I remember when I was in the fourth grade; I got my first pair of glasses, big and pink as they were. I sat in the back of the classroom at school and could hardly make out the words on the chalkboard. I was amazed at what those new lenses did for me. So this is what seeing is like, I thought to myself.

When my life is filtered through scripture and prayer; truth is revealed, lies are exposed and beauty is found in the mundane. I am beckoned to live transparently. In one of her books, Sheila Walsh refers to Paul’s first letter to the church in Thessalonica; he confessed: “We loved you so much that we shared with you not only God’s Good News but our own lives, too.” (1 Thessalonians 2:8) Walsh says, “That is my template. I believe in the power of the Word of God and the transparency of our own journeys.”

And how does the power of the Word work itself out practically in my own life? That’s what I want to explore here—not abstract theological philosophies that have no bearing on how I live, but how God’s word shapes my days, my attitudes and my actions. How does it transform me from the inside out? What does Christ-life look like for this 34-year-old mother of two when the God lens is laid over it?