Stephen Covey created a diagram of concentric circles made up of: Our Circle of Concern; within that circle, our Circle of Influence; within that, our very small, Circle of Control. Of all the things that concern us, there are only a few that we can influence and even fewer that we can control.

Whereas reactive and passive people spend their energy talking and thinking about their many concerns, proactive people concentrate on what they can actually do something about.

Reactive and passive people tend to be unhappy, trapped in victimhood; and they attract others just like themselves. Proactive people tend to be energetic and happy; “birds of this feather” also tend to “flock together.”

A partner diagram might be: Circle of Thought — What I am thinking about; Circle of Talk — What I am (only) talking about; and Circle of Action — What I am doing something about.

Here is a good test question for me when I am “concerned” or “bothered” or want something to be otherwise:

“What specific and concrete goals have you set, and what specific and concrete physical actions have you taken to address this concern?”  

If any of you hear me grousing or prognosticating a dismal future, ask me that question.

This will quickly reveal if it is something I can influence or control.  It will also reveal how serious I am about it.  

Life is short and I want to focus my energies strategically.  

What follows may see too simple. All I can say is that this has worked amazingly well for me, and on that basis I commend it for your consideration.

Disappointment comes when our positive expectations are not met. [When our negative expectations are not met, we call that relief.]

Our expectations exist on spectrum of certainty, comparable to betting odds.

We visualize our expectations on a spectrum from vivid to vague.

I call these visualizations of what we hope for, “pretty pictures”.

When reality does not match our “pretty picture” we instinctively blame reality. Our fast brain tells us that it should have matched, that we have been wronged, that we have a right to be disappointed.

It is easy to find others who agree.

Our slower and wiser prefrontal cortex knows that reality “is what it is” and that we were the ones who created the pretty picture.

Here is the maxim: Disappointment just means we got it wrong.

Being wrong beats being wronged every time, at least for me.

It’s one thing to be disappointed (wrong) about the weather when you planned a picnic, quite another to be disappointed (wrong) about a person you hoped would match our expectation.

We know it’s silly to be mad at the weather, but with people it feels different. They could (and therefore should) have behaved otherwise! Why didn’t they?! What’s wrong with them?!

Have you ever been blamed for failing to match someone’s pretty picture of you? It feels unfair. The shoulds and oughts begin to fly.

Do we dare to say calmly, “I guess you were wrong about me?”

Or, when the shoe is on the other foot, can we say, “I guess I was wrong about you?”

Can we own our expectations?

And can we see the expectations of others for what they are–their expectations. Theirs.

Food for further thought: What about when we disappoint ourselves? Some of us would rather take an internal (and often eternal) beating than to say, “I guess I was wrong about me. “

After watching a number of clips from a recent popular TV series on YouTube I realized that almost every one depicted a violation of at least one of the Ten Commandments.

Murder was a big one, of course. Who doesn’t enjoy a good crime drama? Gotta kick things off with a murder.

Adultery? Yes.

Theft? Aren’t those guys clever! Hope they get away with it, don’t you?

Lying? Plenty.

Taking the Lord’s name in vain? Almost continuous.

Disrespect toward parents and other elders? Yes.

Valuing anything more than God? How ’bout valuing EVERYTHING more than God!

Idolatry? No “graven images” but we don’t need to carve our images anymore. Screens are brighter and lighter than stone idols.

What if we committed not to watch any violation of the Ten Commandments on our screens for one week? One day?

If that is too much to ask, what if we decided just to keep count how many violations we notice?

This might be a worthy exercise when consuming “content” with children. And a creative way to teach them the Ten Commandments. Make a tally sheet.

Next time someone asks, “Whatcha watchin” you can say, “Oh, just some people breaking God’s law and God’s heart.”

“Is it any good?”

Brain research is revealing a lot about “mirror neurons.” We actually experience in our brains what we see others do. And we are hardwired to replicate it.

Romans 12:2 Be transformed by the renewing of your mind…

Last night at Prayer Meeting I was having a hard time getting started. I decided to do a little “house cleaning” using the Collect for Purity:

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid, cleanse the thoughts of my heart by the inspiration of Thy Holy Spirit…

In the recent “thoughts of my heart” I found some pretty strong irritations, judgments, envies, angers, and couple of borderline resentments. I began to pray my usual, “Lord, help me to love so and so, etc.”

Response: “Not even I can help your selfish self to love anybody. He can’t be helped, strengthened or cured; only crucified. What say we put him out of his misery?”

I knew it was true. I know that guy too well. He’s hopeless. He has to go.

Upon further reflection, I realized that most things that grind the gears of my selfish self hardly bother Jesus at all. When I feel irritation rising, I’m learning to ask, “How much does this bother Jesus?”

I can hardly imagine Jesus being bothered about anything. Heart-broken? Yes. Bothered?

Galatians 2:20 I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. 

Romans 6:6 We know that our old self was crucified with him …

I sometimes hear people say that they don’t want to “bother God” with their personal needs when he has a whole universe to run, or when the needs of others are so much more important.

It reminds me of one of my classmates at Asbury. He booked an appointment with then president, Dr. Dennis Kinlaw. When I asked him how it went, he said, “Oh, I told him I didn’t really want to talk, I just wanted to give him a few minutes of free time. And I left.” I can only imagine how grateful Dr. Kinlaw was for this moron’s generosity.

I’m sure God is also grateful that we don’t have any big requests for Him today. That will free up His schedule for more important things. Maybe He will be able to finally get caught up!

Addicts and those who try to help them acknowledge the need to “hit bottom” before recovery can begin.

Do things really have to get worse before they can get better? Or is this just a coping mechanism, to prepare ourselves in case things do get worse. (“But, please God, don’t let them.”)

It is painful to watch a loved one go deeper into dysfunction and pain. Naturally we try stop or slow the descent. Love demands it! But hoping we can buy them a little time to come to their senses, we end up supporting otherwise unsustainable behavior and soothing painful consequences, thereby sabotaging any motivation for change.

The Enemy is the Master Enabler. He and his helpers do everything in their power to soften the consequences of sin. They teach us how to quiet our consciences and blame the pain of natural consequences on others. There are always sympathetic ears to reassure us that we are “good people” and that none of it is not our fault.

The 12-step process begins with a heart-felt confession that “our lives have become unmanageable” and so we recognize and cry out for the help of God, a.k.a. “a higher power.” If this is sound, then the sooner a person’s life becomes unmanageable, and the pain unbearable, the better. It is hard to wish this on anyone, much harder to pray for it.

Most of us have learned to manage our pain. We live with a low-grade fever. It’s not so bad, really. Others have it worse. It’s certainly than better than the alternative. Until the pain of status quo exceeds that pain of change, we will keep on coping.