I can't wait to see what the view from the top looks like.

When I'm talking with my middle schoolers, sometimes I feel like I am teaching to myself.  Part of that is probably because there are nights when I am the only one in the group listening to anything I say.  I have found that sixth grade girls have a longer attention span than sixth grade boys, but not by much.  I think a bigger reason for it, though, is the richness of truth.

I've had this feeling of teaching myself multiple times, but never as apparent than during our discussion this week of the main point in Andy Stanley's book, The Principle of the Path.  

It is direction, not intention, that determines our destination.  

For a good half hour, we discussed goals and choices and how much more fun it is to watch TV than to do homework.  At the end, I challenged my girls to ask themselves this question:

Does this get me closer to or further from my goal?

We have a lot of goals, even if we never write them down or even verbalize them.  I think this is what Andy Stanley means by intention.  Of course I intend to be a good person.  Of course I want to be godly.  I know I should complete all my homework.  I hope to love all of my friends well.  I would like to be healthier, thinner, more disciplined.  I've always wanted to be responsible with my money.  

But what do my actions say?  I know what my end goals are; I know where I want to be... but what direction am I walking in?  Am I actively moving towards those ends, or am I accidentally moving away from them?  

A man I have learned many life lessons from gave me this wonderful analogy when I was in high school.  He said that life is like a hill, steeper in some places than others, and we are a car trying to drive up it.  Even if we put our car in neutral, we are going down the hill.  We get tricked into thinking that doing nothing means going nowhere, but it is even worse than that.  Neglecting to be intentional about our choices doesn't just mean that we aren't getting closer to our goals.  It means we are actually getting further from them.  Even if the front of my car is facing the top of the hill and I've got my eyes on the prize, I am going to be rolling backwards down the hill if I am not actively working to get up it.  

It is direction, not intention, that determines our destination.

Today I came home from work and ate a moderately healthy lunch.  At the sight of some leftover cake sitting on the counter, I decided I would treat myself to some after I ate.  A tiny voice in my head reminded me that I am planning on going to Applebee's later, which would be a less healthy meal, so I didn't need the cake.  A louder voice said, "Meh.  I want cake."  I cut myself a smallish piece and sat down to take a bite, when I discovered mold on the cake.  After I got my freakout out of the way (I almost PUT that NASTY in my MOUTH!), I laughed to myself.  This is going to be easy if cake is working with me for once.  

And I wish that was true.  I wish that cake I shouldn't eat always became inedible.  I wish the unhealthy food didn't taste so wonderful.  I wish the food would always run out before I was able to eat too much of it.  But it isn't.  The easy choices don't give resistance.  It is easier (and seems like a whole lot more fun) to roll down the hill backwards than to fight up it.  But after making all the easy choices, you are left at the bottom of the hill.  

This is the conclusion my girls and I came to on Wednesday.  The easy choices are easy, but the difficult choices are worth it.  I want to be at the top of the hill.  

Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.