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There it is, tucked prominently near the beginning of a strong exhortation by the Apostle Paul, that word that is uttered by every teenager at least once a day, and yet here with a much different meaning: “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father . . .” (Colossians 3:17). Whatever? Whatever! What a word! And a terrible filter it really is! Can you and I really allow whatever we do to undergo the scrutiny of the Most High? This is the mandate, and one that ought to give us pause with every breath. Yet it seems too surreal, somehow of another world, frankly–dare I say it–impossible.

It makes sense to me, but I must admit that I had never heard the term. Frankly, when it comes to this sort of thing, I’m somewhat ignorant. The term? Get this: Critsit. It rolled right off of my friend’s tongue as if it were as common as salt on a McDonald’s french fry. Surely I would know what critsit is. Don’t you?

No? Well it is business shorthand for “critical situation,” and in the context in which this word was first introduced to me it was about a critical situation my friend was going to have to deal with upon arriving at his place of work. “I have a real critst to deal with today,” he said to me. I of course nodded knowingly as if critsits are those things I deal with all time, while quietly wondering, “What in the world is a critsit?”

Then it dawned on me: I do deal with critsits all of the time; indeed, I do know what they are! I wake up each morning and they are standing in my room waiting to greet me. I suppose if they had hands they’d extend to me my cup of coffee (in the “Charles Spurgeon is my Homeboy” mug, of course) and place my slippers on my feet. And the ones that aren’t in my room are no doubt lingering outside in the hallway awaiting the chance to flutter all about me filling me in on the emails that arrived before 4 AM and pointing out the schedule of my upcoming day. Faithful companions they are, always there to occupy my attention, ensuring that I am never alone.

Critsits.

I realize that critsits come in two forms: those that are created by others and which I must engage, and those that I create for myself. Both of these kinds of critsits are challenging, dictating the terms of what my moments will be, capturing my energy and attention. The first kind, the one that it created by others, can be a rather painful critsit because so much of it is beyond any of my control. I typically have to just be instead of do, and that is hard for some like me. The second kind, that which I create for myself, is just frustrating because it is usually profoundly unnecessary. In effect, I have shot myself in the proverbial foot. “Duh” is typically the exclaimation uttered at such times, and that only if I’m choosing to embrace my sanctification.

The other thing about critsits is that they can be either real or imagined. The real ones are, well, real. There is often real pain and heartache, real intensity with purpose, real progress, etc. These are what I would characterize as critsits worth engaging. They are terribly frustrating at times, can be all-consuming, and yet they seem to justify lots of effort because of the ends that are produced.

But then there are the critsits that are only imagined. Sadly, these seem the most common, and are typically within the realm of the petty. I tend to think that these critsits are developed within the boiling cauldron of self-validation. Some people cannot live if they have not concocted some kind of crisis with which to mark their otherwise mundane days.

This, of course, prompts me to caution you about reading any more of these musings. Indeed, I should probably just stop. You see, if we’re not careful then the very thought of critsits running around our rooms at night preparing to pounce on us as soon as our alarms ring may create for us some kind of anxiety attack or indigestion. We might even break out into hives. Indeed, we may create–even unwittingly–a critical situation with which we must deal.

And we already have plenty of those, don’t we?