Resoulutions

Well its the end of January, how are you're resolutions doing? Since, my birthday is within the first two weeks of a new year, I usually don't begin resolutions until then.

My are not doing well in some respects, but well in others. As you can see by the number of post in January, my resolve to post more has been lacking. I've posted the same in a month that I've wanted to post in a week. Why do I want to post? Well, I would eventually like to write a book, and I need to improve my writing style. However, the more I think about that the less I want to write. One, there are a lot of books by Christian authors out there. Two, most of those books are crappy. They are written by people who want to write a book like me. If I do eventually write a book, I want it to say something to the world that will actually make a difference, not just fill shelf-space at Lifeway Bookstore for six months. Also, I've gotten a few back issues of Christianity Today from some of the people I work with. Inside are ads for books and colleges that promise to make you into a better person, more able to connect with the current culture, more like Jesus (or their founding theologians), and all for the glory of God. I have this fear that whatever I write will have an ad in these magazines and some snot-nose student will see it and judge me (typical post-modern cynic brat). Also, I've read some really good books by some really good authors, and I've got to admit... I'm intimidated by their success and vision.

Personally, my resolution for physical betterment is a half-and-half. I have been able to limit myself to one cheeseburger a week (which is a great success), and I have had several days a week where I haven't eaten meat. Abbie and I are running at least three days a week. I guess next up is daily sit-ups and push-ups.

Why do we make resolutions? What is magical about January 1st that makes it seem like we can start over. Its like we can drop all of our baggage and bad habits from last year. Yet, we are haunted by the specters of the past and feel sad when we fail. I think if we realize we have a past and it colors our present its easier to understand where we are going in the future. Doing the same things the same way and expecting different results is foolishness as some wise person whose name I can't remember said. Lets here now resolve to "redouble our efforts and do something with our lives" (as Meriwether Lewis sort of said)

namaste

vaya con DIOS

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