You are holding in your hand a snow globe souvenir. What do you do with it? It’s just a matter of time before you willingly or accidentally shake it and disperse the glitter in the water. It looks beautiful and it is clear that the agitated state is “how it is supposed to be.” Eventually the dust settles and it looks less chaotic, yet somehow not quite as itself when things are calm.
Consider, in contrast, a miniature telescope souvenir. When shaken or disturbed, it becomes impossible to see anything through its lens - just a blur of unfocused motion and confusion. It's only when held with perfect steadiness that it fulfills its true purpose, revealing distant wonders with pristine clarity. Some things can only manifest their deepest nature through stillness, not through agitation. This telescope, unlike our snow globe, finds its truest expression in moments of complete calm.
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When I was in college (in the late 90’s), I remember going to a Friday fellowship event where there was a time to share with everyone what is happening in our spiritual lives. I can’t remember exactly what I was struggling with at the time, but I remember the distinct feeling that I was being crushed under the finger of life’s expectations.
In college I was constantly torn between (A) the drive to achieve something worthwhile that would give me a sense of purpose, and (B) the need to have as much fun as possible in every minute of every hour of every day of my young life. I found myself bouncing back and forth between a “let’s go crazy and have fun” phase, and a “hmmm, that’s not working out so well from a practical standpoint, maybe I should tone it down a bit” phase.
That night at the fellowship meeting I was trying to transition from a fun phase to a discipline phase, and there seemed to be an invisible force pushing me back to my desires. The voice said “this is not worth it” and “you were having so much fun, let’s just keep going.” Then another voice said “this is totally worth it” and “it’s time to put away childish things.”
It’s hard to put into words, but I shared with the fellowship group that night that on some level I understood what was happening to me was spiritual warfare. I was not just wrestling against myself, my difficulty with studying, or my desire to be social, but against “spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:10-18).
This spiritual struggle has not gone away, but has taken on a different feel, almost like the contrast between two of Beethoven's most famous compositions - my teens and 20’s were like his 9th Symphony, which erupts with dramatic shifts and passionate crescendos, while my 30’s and 40’s have been more like his Moonlight Sonata, which flows with graceful transitions and measured beauty. Both pieces and both periods of my life capture profound depths, yet one speaks through intensity and the other through serenity.
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<aside> 💡 Key Terms for this Chapter:
Fragility - The quality of being easily broken or damaged when faced with disorder
Durability - The ability to remain unchanged despite external pressures
Antifragility - The capacity to grow stronger through disorder and chaos
Unconscious Incompetence - Not knowing what you don't know
Conscious Incompetence - Becoming aware of what you don't know
Conscious Competence - Knowing how to do something but requiring focused effort
Unconscious Competence - Mastery that becomes second nature </aside>
We learned in the second chapter about God’s Eternal Present. Our spiritual experience is linear, but our spiritual interpretation must be informed by the timeless reality in which God exists.
Understanding these concepts helps us grasp how spiritual growth often requires periods of disruption. Like Joseph in Egypt, we may find ourselves in situations where everything we know is shaken up and dispersed.
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"God uses moments of chaos to create new patterns of beauty in our lives"
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This isn't just about enduring difficulty, but about understanding how God uses these moments to reshape us. When we look at Joseph's story, we see how each disruption led to a greater purpose.
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St. Cyril's teaching on Impassible Suffering, supported by St. Gregory of Nyssa's thoughts on apophaticism, shows us how to remain spiritually stable even when everything around us seems to be in chaos.
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Genesis 50:20 reveals Joseph's profound understanding: "But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive."
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The Royal Tune that is said on Palm Sunday is also said on the Feasts of the Cross. We thought we are welcoming an earthly king on an earthly throne, and instead we use the same tune to welcome a Heavenly King on an Eternal Throne.
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Like Maslow's stages of competence, our spiritual journey often begins with unconscious incompetence - not even knowing what we don't know. Life's disruptions can move us toward conscious incompetence, which is actually progress, as it makes us aware of our need for growth.
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When life shakes us, instead of resisting the disruption, we can: