My wife and I dated long-distance for the first three years of our relationship.

Year 1: I was in Indianapolis and she was in Florida.

Year 2: I was in Nashville and she was in Florida.

Year 3: I was in Nashville and she was in Indianapolis.

Year 4: I was in a jewelry store.

Nurturing a relationship over a thousand mile span sucks, especially when the only phone is attached to the wall and cost $0.33 per minute (my kids don’t believe such contraptions ever existed).

But there’s one strange paradox that distance brings to a relationship: Focus.

Mandy just returned from 10 Days in Cambodia (sounds like a Brad Pitt movie, doesn’t it?). While she was engaging in the lives of some of the world’s most beautiful yet poverty stricken people, I was 8,700 miles away successfully keeping three kids (and unfortunately, the dog) on this side of the dirt.

Something very special took place (as it always seems to) when we’re forced to spend some time apart.

We grew closer.

Why is that? It doesn’t make sense. Except that it sorta does.

Thanks to FaceTime and global wifi networks, we were able to talk multiple times each day. And every interaction we had was precious. Intentional. Focused. She had my undivided attention and I had hers. She arrived home closer to me than had she never been away. That’s worth examining.

I’m not one to lament the cultural decline brought on by Facebook, iPhones, or cable television. Abuse of any of these mediums isn’t the core of the problem, it’s just a symptom.

But it does make me wonder, in the midst of a manic culture where we don’t have to find distractions, distractions find us, how do we re-engage the focus that seems to elevate the quality of human connection our souls long for?

Relationships grow when we give them our attention. (Yeah, I know…it’s sorta “duh”).

Do you have an important relationship that needs some renewed focus?

Actions speak louder than words. This is true. Nobody likes a lazy motormouth or a idle theorist. But words aren’t unimportant. In fact I’d even say they’re vital.

(Probably not a surprise from a regular blogger).

My wife has been in Cambodia for 9 days now (have I mentioned this?). Her absence brings stunning clarity to my feelings for her, and these feelings have given verbal expression to things I wish I said far more often. (Thank you FaceTime, email, SMS, and Viber).

The mundane makes us lazy. Entitled. We don’t speak because we presume there will always be time to say it later. When we’re less tired, when we’ve had a better day, or when the ballgame’s not in the 4th quarter. The assumption of endless moments gives no urgency to this one.

So we stay silent. And that’s a shame.

I want to say it more. What I feel. When I feel it. Even when I don’t (sometimes feelings follow the action).

Who do you need to call, text, FaceTime, Viber, IM, Facebook, write (yeah on paper), HeyTell, Tweet, email, sky write, or carrier pigeon right now?

Tell them how you feel. What they mean. Why you love them.

Say it clunky. Say it uncomfortably. Say it imperfectly. Just say it!

Seriously, right now. Go! You won’t regret it.

Last Friday night I was driving across town to a dinner party. Alone. Melancholy was the self-indulgent vibe of choice. After all, I was nursing a few emotional challenges:

My wife is literally on the other side of the globe.

I’m a (temporarily) single dad of 3 living in borrowed housing.

My Peyton Manning jersey is now a throwback antique.

I know there are serious pressing global issues to address, but cut me some slack. I was relishing in some good ol’ fashioned self pity, and I had just the soundtrack to complete the party: Neil Diamond’s Greatest Hits Volume 2.

This is my go-to album when I need to feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Neil Diamond was the first live concert my parents ever took me to when I was a kid, and this cassette tape played non-stop in their brown 84 Cadillac during a majority of my pre-teen years. I can still smell the new leather as soon as I hear the intro to “Hello Again.”

I didn’t choose Neil, Neil chose me. The smoky tones of his vocal styling forever intertwined with a simpler and safer time in my life.

I really like Neil Diamond.

We all have our Neils. Things we like or don’t like. Preferences and opinions. Traditions and culture. Things that help us enjoy or make sense of this life. But sometimes we try and attach spiritual mandates to these personal positions, and that’s when things can get weird. We split churches. Engage in holy wars. Give cynics their ammo. We grieve the Father.

My brother-in-law developed a little chart he shared with his church awhile back that might make this a little clearer.

On the outer ring are opinions and preferences. Everybody has them. And that’s OK, everybody can and should. Styles of music, political leanings, style of decor, architecture, food. You like it because, well, you like it.

The middle ring are traditions and culture. These are, in essence, shared opinions and preferences. We tend to find like minded people with like minded tastes and interests

But in the center are the essentials. The things that really matter. Unfortunately, human beings are really good at trying to make spiritual essentials out of our opinions and traditions. Mandates of our preferences.

We all do it. Old school or contemporary. Conservative or liberal. Young and old. Rich and poor. Big and structured or small and organic. Obama or Romney. Paper or plastic.

There’s room for a massive mosaic in the Kingdom of God. A melting together of endless opinions, preferences, traditions, and cultures around the ultimate of essentials: Jesus Christ. Don’t miss Him while you’re out lobbying for your Neil Diamond.

You can hear my entire message on this topic by clicking here: EncounteRespond–The Essentials. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

I’ve gotten to know myself pretty well over the past few years. Why I think the way I think. React the way I react.

Why I wrestle with making decisions.

Why I want you to feel good about me before I feel good about myself.

Why I usually start from the assumption that my gut instinct is wrong.

Why I back down from my opinion if I sense you disagree.

Lots of things I’ve disclosed and processed here on the blog. Self awareness is more than just cathartic. It’s important.

You’ve got your own list, too. Some of you are just more aware of its content. Your own sin. Your own brokenness. The effects of a dysfunctional and fallen world pressing in around you. It’s there.

But let me give you a key piece of advice:

Self awareness is only half the battle, but sometimes we want to stop and hide there. It’s one thing to understand the lies that feed your brokenness, it’s another thing altogether to step courageously into the truth.

It’s great to be able to acknowledge your people pleasing tendencies when someone challenges your character. It’s even better to live into the truth of who God made you to be in the mist of all those questions.

It’s great to understand why you avoid intimacy when things get tough. It’s even better to learn to push into relationship when everything in you says to run.

It’s great to comprehend why you stay quiet about your perspectives when you’re in a large group of people. It’s even better to boldly express what you really think and let others be responsible for how they choose to respond.

Self awareness is so important. Dig up your ugly roots. Study them. Grab a microscope. Diagnose.

But don’t stop with just understanding your brokenness. Start living into the truth. That’s the most important part. The part that really matters.

The part that requires the most courage.

Last week I said goodbye to my house.

Today I reluctantly kiss my wife goodbye for a 10 day trip to Cambodia.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I now apparently have to say goodbye to my Hall of Fame quarterback, too? (I propose all Indianapolis area golf courses be permanently reduced to 17 holes in honor of #18).

All of today’s posts will officially be 83% more melancholy.

Goodbye sucks.

Goodbyes are fear factories.

Even though Mandy’s adventure lasts just a week and a half, the fear of loneliness, potential danger, and me trying to cook (the kids have sincerely and understandably expressed this) overshadows the immense joy of what my wife (and really, our whole family) will be a part of during these few days apart.

(Colts fans just fear becoming the Kansas City Chiefs, but that’s a whole other story).

My wife will be working with our partners at Mission of Mercy on a Dream Center in a remote area of Cambodia. This center is a brand new project where children from Mechrey who don’t have family in the city can come to live so they can attend middle and high school. It’s changing the trajectory of these children’s future, and she gets to play a small part in seeing that happen.

You can read all about the new Cambodian Dream Center and Floating School (yep, it really floats) by clicking here.

If we want to make a difference, we have to be willing to be inconvenienced. Spend some resources. Risk food poisoning (sorry kiddos). Maybe say goodbye (even if it is only 10 days). As much as I crave steady, I know it’s true.

So say a little prayer for my beautiful wife, my mother in-law, and an incredible team of women literally traveling to the other side of the globe to try and play their small part in creating something beautiful. I know she’ll have some incredible stories to share very soon.

And just think, after today’s goodbye to our beloved Peyton, maybe we’ll be able to watch him help some other poor, dysfunctional NFL city rise from the ashes to national prominence.

Yeah, I know. Doesn’t quite conjure up the same emotions, does it? #PeytonMourning