3:13 Toilet

So I have this toilet, if you aren't careful, the handle will get stuck and the thing will run until you tap the handle and set the plunger. This use to worry me during the drought because the toilet would keep trying to fill itself but would never get full, and it would waste a lot of precious water. To this day, if you aren't careful the handle will get stuck and the commode will run and run until someone fixes it.

I don't know what this means, but it seemed important. Maybe its you and maybe its me.

namaste

Vaya con DIOS

Things Break, Fix Them

As it often seems. After a time away, usually involving spiritual renewal, you get hit in the face with something that is a shocking reminder the world is not where I want to spend eternity.

Today I got back from Gulfcoast Getaway. There, I clapped my hands, spun in circles, tackled strangers, painted my face, cheered for friends, YELLED til my voice was no more, and danced before God. I've never danced before God before. My first year at GCG I watched as a guy just screamed and shook and moshed during worship. My uptight self did not understand this, and I judged him a fool. Later (a couple of years), I regretted judging the guy. I mean he was only responding to Him. Now, I realize my judgement was correct the guy was a fool, except he was being a fool before God. When I realize David was naked before all Jerusalem, a little jumping is nothing.

In years past, I have felt a strong pressure in my chest during song worship at Gulfcoast. Literally, the urge to tear my shirt and chest open to relieve whatever was happening. This, year I resolved to not let myself get in the way of my response to HIM. (Just in case I wore western shirts with snaps) I lifted my hands when I felt like it, I sang soaring tenor parts that would eventually wreck my vocal chords (the long i sound doesn't come out now), I opened Scripture at every mention, lobbied for missions, and ran towards to the stage to dance with and before strangers. That set me up for the last song of Gulfcoast. Based off of Psalm 30 "You Have Turned My Mourning into Dancing" brought out a side of me never seen to anyone that has existed in me from the beginning of time.

Five years ago, I would've hated myself. Literally, I would have existed with self-loathing. What changed? Me? Well yeah. How? I don't know, I've always known something wasn't right. As Jim has astutely observed, I want an answer for everything. I'm not okay with the unanswered questions of life. I don't leave pondering until I come to a satisfactory conclusion. I realize my answers are sometimes (read often) wrong. But I'd rather have a wrong answer than none at all. (Thats pretty dangerous).

Anyway this weekend was about realizing heaven and hell exist on Earth. Heaven is here and now and so is Hell. And you cannot exist in both. Through suffering I know there is a kingdom that is not yet, but joy tells me there is a kingdom that is now.

I get home and I here a hissing sound, turns out my outlet hose on my hot water heater has broken (the intake hose broke a few months ago). Great, I've been home 15 min and I have to deal with this temporary, broken world. The "emergency" maintenance line said it will be fixed tomorrow.

I don't like fixing things tomorrow because it always remains tomorrow. But, if there is a time set, I'm okay with fixing it later. Things break, things fail, the world is broken and there are terrible calamities that befall the most vulnerable of people.

Fix it, fail better, open your eyes to the Kingdom on Earth, and 1600 college students can raise 27,000 dollars to bring water to the thirsty, aid to injured, hands to the fallen, hope to the hopeful, and redemption to every man, women, and child that inhabits this sphere all while dancing before God.

namaste

vaya con DIOS

The One You Love

One of the things that I will always remember from my short time in Virginia is the time you spend at night. During the day, I would futilely fill out job applications and drive around to figure out where I was. But, around 5:00 I would get bored until Kyle came home. To stave off boredom, I would cook dinner, and put on music to dance to in the kitchen. I would meticulously plan so that dinner would be finished the exact moment he walked in the door (much to his delight).

One thing I noticed was how fun it was to come home at the end of the day and there not be a dark apartment, but the smell of a warm meal and warm reception. Even now, Kyle jokes about me coming up to be his cook and how I'll make a good li'l housewife one day. There wasn't much in the way of planning. Just buy groceries and cook what you had. Nothing absolutely astonishing came out of the oven, we decided what to eat the night before.

I like living with a dog now. Chester is always happy when I come in the door and it makes for a warm welcome. I think I understand why people have dogs, because whoever gets home first isn't denied a loving hello from someone who misses them.

And in a 'round about way I think of my future family. One day I'll probably open the door and some rugrat will come and wrap itself around my leg, there will be evening plans and I will get to enjoy the love of a family. And today, I realize I couldn't live alone because I need someone to be there, not as a crutch but as a reassurance that I'm not the only soul in this world. That other people smile and hurt and live and breathe like I do except that they live a life separate from mine.

One of my favorite memories is my parents kissing each other three times before they left the house or after they arrived. It taught me to always come home to the one you love, because often times they love you right back.

It's 4:35 on a Monday and now I'm going home to see Chester and hopefully Jim is there already.

namaste

vaya con Dios

What magazines do you read?

Recently, (this morning) I was reading a magazine for Christian ministers. Amongst the articles covering an Assembly of God convention, music reviews, and a touching piece on the lawyer called the "Conscience of China's" disappearance, there were countless advertisements. Books and colleges dominate the purchasers of ad space. Quick note, I'm not accusing Christian magazines of selling out; they need ad revenue to keep subscriptions cheap.

Dominating the wording in the ads were adjectives like extreme, revolutionary, relevant, and the like, all describing how these various books could change your life and the world. Nestled in the bottom corner of one page was an editorial cartoon with the caption, "You say you have interest in ministry, but you don't drink craft beer, haven't seen a Wes Anderson movie, nor have you grown a goatee." All these things are intended as to be relevant to a modern twenty-something culture. The cartoon didn't come down on these things and I realize it is making (a very accurate) stereotype (says the goatee sporting, craft beer snob who recently saw 'The Darjeeling Limited').

But, I guess the thing that gets me is that we, Christians, use this language among ourselves. As if we have lost the meaning of Scripture and need a couple of self-help books and a cool CD to reintroduce the Bible to us. It makes me question why I do the things I do. Why do I say I enjoy the outdoors when I haven't been camping in over a year? I like mountain biking, but my tires are worn from riding miles on the pavement and not the trail. I have a goatee because I can't grow a full beard and Abbie likes it. Why am I pursuing a life in ministry? Do I want to fight making a religion that has never nor ever will be relevant to culture, relevant to culture? The 'Conscience of China' saw the followers of an ancient Chinese religion being tortured, and he, because of his Christian worldview, sued the government; while in America we (Christians) hear about prisoners being tortured in Gitmo and do not demand the government be true to their call to be the last, great hope. No we left that battle to the Left because we were to busy arguing that homosexuals can't call themselves married while half of our followers file for divorce and have unwed mothers.

I guess I want to believe I'm going to be a part of a group that is more concerned about the state of man's soul than the color of walls, order of worship, or style of singing. I want to be a part of a group that will not worry if they are relevant and just be true to their hearts seeking after God.

namaste

vaya con Dios

I Need a Francis Fix

I was asked today whom I was listening to, which doesn't happen often. I live with a guy who introduces me to most of the music I know.

I told the person who asked that Hootie and the Blowfish was one of my favorite bands growing up. Maybe a little bit odd for a kid in elementary school, but it was the 90's and music was better. While most of my friends listened to Nirvana and Marlyn Manson, I listened to 'Cracked Rear View,' 'Fairweather Johnson,' 'Scattered, Smothered, and Covered,' and 'Musical Chairs.' Yeah I bought them all. Later, when I was in college, 'Looking for Lucky' spent an entire month in my CD player.

I started thinking how my taste in music now figure into my taste then. Now, I like decidedly more bluegrass styled music, and Hootie was rock, right? Listen to the later albums. It takes a definite bluesy, grassy shift.

The second thing that remains the same is the passion. Comparing The Avett Brothers' and Hootie's singing, I actually believe their lyrics. The way the song is sung means a lot to me. I want to feel what the artist is feeling, see what they saw, rip my heart out and give it to them. That's one of the reasons I don't listen to a lot of contemporary Christian music. Everything seems canned, polished, ...fake. I'd rather hear someone scream and cry out lyrics of jubilation than to hear someone hit a perfect high C. (Reasons I didn't and don't listen to Celine Dion and Mariah Carrey.)

Some things change and somethings never do.

Last night just as I was about to go to bed the power flashed on and off several times then shut off completely. The wind howled outside.

This morning you could tell there was power last night. Piles of leaves were heaped in the roads that still shone with the rain from last night. The wind blew all day long trying to rip leaves that trees that stubbornly held on to. You could tell there was strength. Strength beyond human control. Yes, we harness the wind for energy, for transportation, and for fun. But, we have no control over it.

The first night on trail I spent in Glacier NP, I lived in fear of the invisible wind. We camped in a valley between Pitamakin and Triple Divide Peaks. The wind seemed to slosh in the large bowl. It would rush down the slopes of one side, down through the valley, and up the opposing slope where it would lose its energy and slip back down to assault the valley once more. We were surrounded by tall pines the creaked and groaned and ached against the wind. Standing up more from tradition than resistance.

I thought back to when Elijah was on the run from Jezebel and was led to a cave to talk to God. God sent three signs: wind, fire, and an earthquake. But, He was not in any of the three. The wind He sent cracked the rocks. Today, there were many branches that were tossed down by wind (one of which landed on my power line). I understand wood being cracked and splintered by storms, wood heavy with water buffeted by gust cannot withstand for long. I see pictures of palm trees bent by hurricanes and oaks lifted by tornados, but rocks being cracked? That's a wind. The LORD finally spoke to Elijah in a small voice. After He flexed His muscle, God showed Elijah that He didn't need to speak loudly to be heard because He holds all power of creation in His hands.

So today I walked around in God's power, every gust against my face, every leaf whipped around my feet, the ominous sky all reminded me that I serve the LORD God who, not only holds all the power of creation in His hand, but also upholds me with His hand. I had an odd bravery today. Like God has set a hedge around me that will never fail. I could almost see the angels that were revealed to Elisha that stood guard all around. They defended me from Hamlet's slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and I am grateful.

namaste

Vaya con Dios

Jesus Movies for Atheists

So I realize that most of my post take a religulous bent, but that what I'm dealing with and so its what I write about.

Last night I watched, the first part of Bill Maher's "Religulous." No, I didn't throw a hissy-fit and storm away (like some Christians in the movie), I had to go help a friend with an art project. Going into this movie, I knew that Bill is an ardent atheist claiming agnosticism. That sounds weird, but it basically means he wants others to doubt religion like him and doesn't seek to understand others. Kind of like Bill O'Reily or Glenn Beck. They just ask questions to badger their source to either make them look stupid or not get any answers. Knowing this and realizing that I would just sit there and fume the entire movie if I took this attitude. I decided to take notes on it. Writing down questions asked, answers I would have given, and in-congruencies in either Bill's or the interviewees logic.

What I came away with was a look into the mind of a modern (excuse me) post-modern atheists. First off, Bill never sought out a qualified source. The only doctors he spoke to were the director of the Human Genome Project and a former Four-Tops who called himself doctor yet did not have a doctorate. At no point was any professor of religion from a divinity school questioned. Maybe I'm jaded and way more knowledgeable about sourcing interviews, but that's where I would have started, not the truck-stop church with the Flava-flav look-a-like preacher. (Interesting note, Bill thanked them for being Christ-like after they prayed for him). Second, there were too many cut scenes where the answers to the questions were cut off. It seemed if the answer wasn't what was expected, Bill did not further pursue it, as a seeker would have, he just moved on to the next question. In the cut scenes, which took place in the van the crew traveled in, Bill repeatedly insulted those he just interviewed or was about to interview. I also noticed how some of the people would stop the interview in the middle of it if they perceived they were losing. But, one time (I chuckle as I write this) a rabbi wouldn't let Bill say anything till he finished answering the question. Bill, visibly upset, stopped the interview and left.

Here are some of the things I took away from "Religulous"

Why is faith good?

Where do I stand on subjects such as evolution, homosexuals, existence of Jesus, virgin birth, veracity of scripture, after-life, and love?

Most people will equate Catholicism as what all Christians think, unless they handle snakes and speak in tongues.

Do I live like Jesus?

If heaven is so good, why don't I commit suicide?

How do I approach other religions; do I think their claims are to outlandish to be believed?

How much do I actually know about the Bible?

Do I love others?

If you interview or have a discussion with a person hostile to your views, pre-set the rules of engagement and use a paper in pen to jot down rebuttals instead of interrupting.

Know the signs of a seeker.

Know how you live your life and how God has told us to live in order to give an answer (1 Pet 3:15).

Above all be Christ-like so that no one can fault you as hypocrite.

The last thing that struck me was the perceived loss of freedom that religion brings. And while that is a whole post in itself, what is it that binds me: the love of/for God, or the traditions of men?

namaste

vaya con Dios