Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

discipleship

The most #Overratedbook you'll ever read

Seattle pastor Eugene Cho has a new book out, his first, and it is SO Overrated.

No, really. It’s Overrated.

That’s the name of the book.

Overrated.

I didn’t have to even read one page to know that this book is not to be taken lightly. (Disclaimer: I received an advance e-copy of the book in exchange for my review.)

Cho does not mince words. He does not coddle. He does not accept excuses.

He asks the question that needs to be asked: Are we more in love with the idea of changing the world than actually changing the world?

He puts it like this:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kqvd12mEEK4]

And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I’m guilty of wanting to change the world, of wanting to make a difference but doing very little to back that up.

Overrated BookCover-3DSo this book is hard to read. It’s like seeking advice from a friend who tells you not what you want to hear but says the hard things and challenges you to do what needs to be done.

While it’s a book about justice and the Christian’s role in justice, it’s also about discipleship and generosity and intentional living and passion and purpose. It’s about these things working together in the life of a disciple of Jesus so much that the world can’t help but notice.

And Cho does not speak as one who has done it all perfectly with impure motives. He does not preach what he doesn’t live. He offers his own confessions, failings, and wrong motives as testimony that this call is not just for other people but for him as well.

Here are five of the most challenging statements, for me, Cho makes in the book:

“Isn’t that what makes discipleship so uncomfortable and challenging? God often leads us on journeys we would never go on if it were up to us.” (26)

“I believe you cannot credibly follow Christ unless you pursue justice.” (43)

“The inescapable truth about justice is that there is something wrong in the world that needs to be set right.” (52)

“We should be about the marathon, not about the transactional sprint for instant justice gratification.” (105)

“We cannot speak with integrity about what we are not living. We don’t need more dazzling storytellers; we need more genuine storytellers. And the best way to become a better storyteller is to simply live a better life. Not a perfect life, but one of honesty, integrity, and passion.” (178)

I could go on. Nearly every page contained a nugget of truth that lodged in my heart and wouldn’t let go.

ChoOverratedFascinateGraphic

I forced myself to read it slow, take one chapter at a time and really let the words sink in.

And it doesn’t have to stop with the end of the book. As part of the message of the book, there’s a 5-day challenge, by e-mail, to help you avoid being overrated. Click here for more information about that.

The book officially releases Sept. 1, but if you preorder it today, you’ll have immediate access to an interactive e-copy. Find out more here.

I’d put this book at the top of my list of recommended reads for churches, youth groups, ministry workers, seminaries–really anyone who desires to do good in the world because of their relationship with Christ.

Overrated won’t condemn you for your actions, or lack thereof, but it will challenge you to let your life be about more than Twitter-style justice and passionate ideas. It’s encouragement to dream big, yes, and think hard and press on in the long run.

Cho often ends his Facebook posts and even a chapter or two with these words: Your move.

After reading this book, I firmly believe that.

It’s my move. What will I do with the challenge set before me?

Will I let myself be overrated and ineffective? Or will I seek the bigger picture and let God lead?

Will you?

Your move.

My move.

Because God is on the move.

And He’s going with or without us.

Learning to ride a trike

“I caaaaaaaaan’t!”

There we were, in the middle of the block, my 3-year-old wearing a dress and rainboots, sitting on her red tricycle, and wailing. (Said 3-year-old also had not had a nap, therefore everything was Tragic, capital T.)

Meanwhile, the boy, recently turned 20 months, was numerous yards farther down the block, scooting his three-wheeler along like it was his job and he had no intention of quitting.

And me, in the middle, as usual, wondering if it was tough love time for the girl who refuses to pedal, if the boy would listen when I tell him to stop, if any of the neighbors were watching and laughing, if I should haul everything back to our yard and take the kids inside, once again giving up on a “walk” around the block with the kids.

I’m happy to tell you that we pressed on. There was more wailing. Some frustration. A moment when the boy nearly rolled himself into the road. And another moment when I nearly dumped the 3-year-old off her tricycle on accident helping her over a bump.

But there were also brief moments of joy when the 3-year-old realized she could actually pedal the tricycle and go farther and faster than she could trying to scoot or drag it behind her.

She grinned as she cruised down the block, then cried out when she stopped pedaling and couldn’t get started again.

“Keep pedaling,” I told her again and again. “It’s easier if you just keep going.”

The words ring true not only for riding a tricycle and but for following Jesus.

“I struggle with forward motion,” the band Relient K sings.

I thought of this as I watched my daughter start and stop and start and stop and grow frustrated with the whole process of riding a tricycle. She really wants to graduate to a “big girl” bike. I insist that she must learn to pedal the trike first.

Christian growth can be like this: a repeated stopping and starting, becoming frustrated with the progress (or lack of it), tempted to give up on the whole idea.

Pedaling was hardest when the path was uphill. It was then that my daughter most needed my help. I pushed. I pulled. I guided. It was tiring, but we had to get home.

Life is often hardest when the road is uphill — sickness, trial, unmet expectations, unforgiveness, unrelinquished sin. It is then that we need someone else, someone more experienced, older, who’s been through this before, to journey with us. To hold our hands. To encourage us to keep going. To push us ever closer to Christ.

Even when circumstances are not as dire, we need each other’s help.

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” (Hebrews 10:24)

Working together, not in competition. I know my daughter, a feisty redhead if ever there was one, was not happy to be lagging behind her brother the younger. One time, she almost passed him. But their methods are not the same. He does not pedal. And his tricycle sits lower to the ground. She is working toward a different goal. And she is a different person.

The same could be said for our Christian brothers and sisters. Some of us are growing in tangible and noticeable  ways. Some of us seem stuck where we’re at. But we’re all on different vehicles, with different skills.

“… let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (Hebrews 12:1)

The race marked out for us. Is it possible the race is marked out differently for each believer? I don’t know for sure, but I know it’s dangerous to compare spiritual growth and “progress” in the Christian life between believers.

I don’t know when my daughter “should” be able to pedal her tricycle, but I know she won’t learn how by sitting inside the house watching movies or walking when she could be riding. She will have to do it. Over and over again.

The Christian life requires discipline. And practice. It’s a relationship. It takes time. And effort. Frankly, it’s hard. But it gets easier, for moments, until you move on to the next level of growth. The “big girl” bike, if you will.

Keep pedaling, friends. We have to get home.