Take Your Brain Off Autopilot!

Here’s a little exercise I conducted with the young people in my literacy program. I’ve never done it in print, so I don’t know if it works the same, but walk with me…

Okay, say the word “stop” out loud three times. STOP. STOP. STOP.
Now spell the word “stop” three times. S T O P. S T O P. S T O P.
Now answer this question: What do you do at a green light?
If you answered “stop”, you’re wrong. You should stop reading this and go back to the beginning of this paragraph.

If you reread the paragraph above more than twice and are wondering what the answer is, the answer is “go.” Seriously. Try this out on your friends. When this exercise is performed live, 90% of the time, people get the answer wrong on the first try. That’s because we often allow our brains to work in “autopilot” mode. We go through a large percentage of our lives not really thinking about the things we do or the reasons we do them.

Putting your brain on autopilot has its benefits. It allows you to multitask. You can simultaneously perform automatic functions such as drinking your coffee and downloading files while engaging in activities that demand a little more attention, such as reading your email and answering calls. But if you wanted to do something inventive, such as write the next great American novel or create something truly unique, autopilot just won’t cut it.

1 Peter 5:8 tells us “Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” As Christians, we have to not only take our brains off autopilot, but our praise and our worship, too. Do a new thing! Read a book of the Bible you’re completely unfamiliar with. Spend a random day fasting just to hear a new word from the Lord. Visit a church you’ve never visited before and fellowship with Christians you don’t know.

I’m taking my brain off autopilot.

Lessons from Liberia – Finale

‘Cause I gotta have faith.

Those of us who grew up in the 80s sang along with George Michael, belting out the lyrics, especially the last line, “I gotta have faith-a-faith-a-faith.” Isn’t it funny how even in popular culture certain spiritual principles ring true? Hebrews 11 is regarded as the great Hall of Faith. There you’ll find accounts of people who were led by faith, even when everything around them seemed lost.

During our stay in Liberia, we visited and fellowshipped with the Mount Nebo Baptist Church, which was located in the Sinkor section of the capital city of Monrovia. They held a revival that week with the theme, “Walking by Faith.” As I got to know the people of Mount Nebo and learned more about the recent history of Liberia, I was overcome by the faith that flowed through the country.

Walking by faith, indeed. During the war, which lasted for 14 years and ended in 2003, the country was devastated. Children as young as 8 were taken and “drafted” into a horrific army where they were brainwashed and given guns to use at will. The so-called leadership at that time ended all public services. There were no formal schools or hospitals. Basic utilities such as electricity and running water were terminated. People were forced to leave their homes to seek refuge. It wasn’t unusual for families to flee at a moment’s notice on foot. I heard accounts of mothers, children, and the elderly walking for days and weeks at a time. “Where were they walking?” I asked over and over again. The collective answers I received revealed that it wasn’t a matter of “where” that made the difference, but “how.” They walked by faith, knowing that hope was ahead of them and grace would get them through.

The Liberia I witnessed during my visit was a country in transition. Under the leadership of current president, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, the public school system has been reinstated. The main roads are being reconstructed. I was speaking to a woman who shared her thoughts on the rebuilding of the country. She told me that some still worry that although the guns have stopped shooting, the war is not truly over. But at that, she smiled at me reassuringly, patted my arm, and said with her lovely Liberian accent, “Ah, but you know? I gotta have faith.”