commitment

Earlier this week, as I was sitting at my desk at work, daydreaming about how glorious a snow day would be, I received an email from my friend. It simply said,

“Deep.

Ham and eggs. A days work for the chicken, a lifetime commitment for the pig.”

Deep.”

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I laughed pretty hard, and thanked my friend for providing me with a humorous intermission during my somewhat monotonous day. However, this quote kept replaying over and over in my head, and I began to think about the truth behind it’s statement.

I know, I know… Gosh Tory, why do you have to make everything so serious and deep? Well, simple answer: Because I can. I love humor, and I definitely enjoyed the humorous angle to the above statement. But I also love when I discover profound thought and truth in simple things, especially when it smacks me over the head, as it often does.

I began to think more about this quote, and actually found some interesting alternatives. One such alternative reads:

"The difference between involvement and commitment is like ham and eggs. The chicken is involved; the pig is committed.”

I use the term “committed” so loosely sometimes. I’m committed to eating healthier (which is why I’ve eaten too many pieces of banana bread today). I’m committed to writing a “quote series” on my blog (which is why I haven’t written for three days). I’m committed to becoming a better photographer (and yet, ask me how many photos I’ve taken in the past month – it’s pathetic, really). I’m committed to following Jesus (which is why I daily have to remind myself of that commitment). So often do I say I’m committed, and so often do I fail to truly understand what that means.

However, I don’t think commitment is something to take lightly.

I’m not always so flippant about commitment… In fact, it is a trait I strive to own. Take when I worked at the Mission… I worked so many hours off the clock, spent so many dollars of the money I made while actually punched in, and gave a huge piece of my heart away to children and friends I adored. I lived and breathed everything that was going on while I was there. I loved it. It was my passion, and I was committed to it 110%.

However, I started to think about the things I’m NOT so passionate about… Where I currently work, being one of those things. I am committed because I signed an agreement that said I would be an employee of ASQ. I am committed because working there pays my bills – if I don’t work, I don’t have money to pay rent, which would mean I ultimately wouldn’t have a place to live. I’m committed because I gave them my word that every day, I would show up at 8, and work until 5. However, I’m not passionate about it. It is just a commitment I have made that day in and day out, I keep to because I have to. It’s not really an option.

The thing that stuck out to me about commitment in the story of ham and eggs though, and the difference between situation one and situation two is this idea of sacrifice. How far does my commitment go, and what am I willing to sacrifice for it? This became tough when I started looking at other areas of my life, and how committed I am to them.

How committed am I to going to and being a sacrificial member of a church?

How committed am I to loving my neighbors, no matter what the cost?

How committed am I to loving my co-workers, even if it means I don’t like my job?

How committed am I to following Jesus, no matter how messy it gets?

How much am I willing to sacrifice for these things?

I began to wonder if I’m more like the chicken – simply a donor of minor proportions; or more like the pig – who gives his entire life for the cause. Sadly, I think more often than not, I’m a chicken.

I wonder if that’s where the taunting phrase came from. You know when you’re a kid, and you’re afraid to do something – they yell “Chicken!” To some extent, what they’re really saying is, “You’re scared to commit. You’re scared to see what could really happen if you let go of it all… You’re too afraid to sacrifice it all for this one, big thing.”

That’s me… all the way. I’m scared to commit to what I don’t know or understand. I’m scared to see what could happen if I really let go. And I’m scared to sacrifice it all, even though I know it’s for something far better. Basically, I’m scared to be the pig.

But scary as it may be, commitment requires that I be the pig. It requires that I move beyond being a passive donor, and move towards being a sacrificial contributor. It requires that I no longer give just part of me, but all of me.

May I be a person who provides the ham, not just eggs.

(ps. check back later this week for a drawing I created in my journal to go with this post... should be up in the next couple of days)