Losing Him

As in getting lost, losing track, turn around and realize he's not there anymore.

Not because of anything he's done. Nope, its my own fault.

I feel like God isn't talking anymore. I haven't really heard from him in a while. Things have been getting treacherously dark and confusing, and it doesn't feel like he's going to show up. Things, mostly social, have been a lot harder as of late. Good things I do, no matter how noble, seem to turn to ash in my fingers. No matter how honorable, no matter what the intention, it all ends in nothing. At least on my side. Following leads ends in a brick wall, giving my time ends in mediocrity, worship... well I can't say there's been much of that.

But you know what's caused all this? Cause I figured it out.

Prayer.

I haven't been praying. I don't pray. Well, that's not true, I'll put in an occasional memo on safe travels or pass along a request if I get a text from someone needing prayer. But me personally, spending quality time with my Lord. No, none of that.

And you know what fuels most of this? I don't know what to pray. When I actually do think to pray I sit and stare at the ceiling going completely blank. I'm at a point where I've asked for the same things so often I wonder if its really even necessary to ask anymore. He knows, and it doesn't seem to be something he's ready to give. I think what to pray for other people and I immediately feel stupid and small. For one, I don't know what my friends and family need. And what I would pray for them might actually be a hindrance to them. God's plans are so much bigger and more intricate, that my "helping" would be like taking a monkey wrench to a pocket watch. This has been plaguing me for a few weeks now and to be honest, I'm not really sure how to get back with him. I've been walking through these woods and now that I've realized I've lost him... I don't know which way to turn to find him again.

This past Thanksgiving weekend a couple of cousins stayed with us. One, who I adore spending time with but haven't in... years, is learning how to play guitar. I learned in high school but haven't played much since. She brought her guitar for the weekend and we were going to jam, but we discovered that my guitar's strings were very old, very sharp and a little rusty. Thankfully she had some extra and we set about to putting them on. Together. I gotta tell you, her and I working diligently on that guitar, working together without any qualms of who got to do what, with the smell of fresh cookies baking in the next room, and the excitement of playing together once we were finished...

That's a feeling I wish would have lasted longer. We had such a bond at that moment. We were both content, enjoying the others' company and work, we were accomplishing something beneficial and fun. We were happy. It was perfect.

That's how I want to feel with God. That's what I want our relationship to be like.



... now if I could just find him again...

To Know Your Heart

The bible says that God knows our hearts. In fact, he knows our heart of hearts. The deepest parts of our hearts, the secret parts of our soul, the innermost places of our very being.

And when he talks about this he is concerned about how greedy and perverse people are deep down despite their outward glory. That's usually the view we take with it. You seem like a nice person but God knows your heart, he knows how bad you really are.

That's true. But yesterday I heard it again and it hit me in a different way. God knows my heart and sees the wickedness that no else sees. But he also sees my heart of hearts, the deepest places there are. The places so deep most often I don't even see them.

Yes, I am a sinner, yes I give into wickedness more than I should, but God sees my heart of hearts. He knows despite all that, that I love him. He knows that deep down I long to serve him in the best way, that I long to know him intimately. He knows that under all this sin, is a saint striving to live.

Like a man in the desert who looks at the sand, and can see past all of that to the treasures buried beneath. Yes, the sand is still there, but it can and will be removed. And one day the glory underneath will be revealed, and not by the treasure's doing, but by the man who could see past it all.


That's a comforting thought...

Action

I've been looking for a church for over a year now. I've been trying to find a stable full-time job since I graduated college. I've been trying to figure out what to do with my life for many years. And through all this time I've contemplated, searched, deliberated and prayed.

So mostly I just thought about it a lot.

There is a value in thinking. Thinking before you speak is a very wise thing. Meditating before making a big decision is prudent as well. But only for a time. If we all thought over everything until we were completely, utterly sure without a shadow of a doubt, we wouldn't move from the spot we were in for the rest of our lives.

I think that's been a factor in my recent life. I have thought too much. I've sat and waited for God to come out and go, "Surprise!" and then my life would move to the next step. I consider things, over and over. There's no movement, there's no flow. I'm, more or less, a stagnant pond. The water's there, but nothing's doing.

And God has really been pressing me lately with one idea, Action.

Do.

Stop sitting there thinking about it, go out and actually do it! How many times have you heard that? Its almost cliche. But for some reason it never really sunk in. I've thought about what kind of church I'd like to go to, scrutinized the ones I've visited, but while I was there... nothing. It wasn't until someone said to me, "Ethan, you need to stop looking for a church where you feel comfortable and start looking for a church where you can serve."

Whoa. All that thinking and that had never crossed my mind. So you know what? I'm moving now. I'm helping out with the Christmas service for the church I've been attending, and I might play drums for worship. I helped mom lead worship at the last Emmaus Gathering, something I was totally not comfortable with. Instead of grabbing a notepad and pondering over it for an hour, I just started writing the book. Start the project, have the conversation, give the money, kiss the girl. Just do.

Action. I believe God will guide the moving. To step out in a direction praying it is the right one, and then let God push whichever way he prefers. But he can't guide something that isn't moving. You can't tell a rock which way to go, and walls don't take direction very well. I have to move, I have to keep going. I just have to go out and do. Win or lose, at least I'll be accomplishing something.

Thinking is very wise, but Action begets life.

Courage to Make it Home

"Lord, give me the stones to ask the hard questions."

A friend of mine told me this prayer a few weeks ago. We were talking about the difficult situations, when you've been burned by someone you trusted, or when you witness a friend in the midst of something you both know isn't right. What do you do? There's really only two things: ignore it, or ask the hard questions.

Neither seem very appealing, to be honest. Confronting someone is a dangerous place. You're risking your relationship with them. They will either hear you out as a friend and trust that you have their best interests in mind, or they'll feel insulted and want you as far from them as possible. That's when you take a good look at the friendship and say, "What does this person mean to me?" Because, and God will always prompt you on this, if the person means a lot to you, you most likely will confront them. The less you think of them, the better chance you'll just ignore the whole situation.

That seems a little backwards but it isn't. If some guy on the street snubbed me, I'd just brush it off. But if a good friend stabbed me in the back I would want to know exactly what the hell they were thinking.

Can you let a friend stay in that mire of guilt or sin? Boy, it just kills me. And so, God took me a step further in faith and taught me another lesson. One I would have preferred to skip.

Another thought has been going through my mind, and it sort of has something to do with this. I've heard several times over the past few months the idea of a home I've never seen.

Created for a place I've never known...

I... love this. How incredible to think that this harsh world is not my home? To think that somewhere is a place so indescribable, and I'm a prince there. Its my home, my true home. I was created for it all along. And this world we live in is so beautiful and full of a grandeur... but my home is more than it. It is the potential of what this world never realized. Doesn't that just blow you away?

It made me wonder about why this world is so difficult... why Christians are put through so much to finally get home. And what I realized is... comforting. Beautiful. God wanted us to be our absolute best when we finally got home. Think about it, a rich kid who grows up rich doesn't think he is. But a poor kid who struggles through life, when he is invited to live in a mansion...

It's magical to him. He's in awe of it all. He's grateful. He appreciates just how great it is, because he knows what it was like without it. That's us, I think. God puts us on this earth, guiding us through trial after trial, growing us, strengthening us, refining us into a being that is humble, sincere, bold, loving and confident. Something we could never be if Heaven was given to us first. And then when we finally pass through the gates and see the first glints of light from the golden roads, and hear the first brush of wings... we will be grateful. We will be in awe. And we will forever appreciate God and his home for us, because we remember what it was like without.



Walking, stumbling... on these shadowfeet
toward home, a land that I've never seen...
I am changing, less and less asleep
made of different stuff than when I began.

And I have sensed it all along...
Fast approaching is the day...

Transitions and Adventure

My head is swimming with so many thoughts, and I need to pour some out on the computer so I don't drown in them. Its weird. I feel unsettled. There's rarely a moment these days that leaves me content or at peace. Is that a bad thing? It almost feels like that weird dread you get when you're traveling and you suddenly get the notion that you left something important behind. Like an odd soreness on the backs of your arms and a bit of tightness in your chest.

What's that all about? Around a week ago God finally got me where He wanted me, and I cried uncle. And that was a big deal for me. It was... freeing. There's something about wrestling with someone for a long time, and you just get this bustling stream of pride that you will not let them get to you! Then you reach that moment when your head and your heart finally catch up to each other and you realize... I just can't go on. So you stop wrestling. For about a half second you feel like a failure, but then an overwhelming ease washes over you. You're done, you don't have to fight anymore. Sigh...

So shouldn't I feel at ease? No, I guess not. Because I feel like I immediately entered the dreaded Transition phase. No rest yet, don't indulge in that peace... you've got another step coming. And until then we will be transitioning. Have you ever felt comfortable on a 10 hour drive? How about a 7 hour flight? Did the time between one job and the next feel relaxing to you? Me neither.

So that's where I am. Moving away from my old hang ups and mindsets and moving to God knows where. I feel like I'm forgetting something. Every conversation leaves me with the impression that I missed something or snubbed the person. I'm having trouble coming up with the words to say, the reactions to have.

But let me bring up something else that has nothing and everything to do with this. Adventure. I am an adventurer, I love it. Exploring, trying new things, daring. But adventure is hard to come by most often. Then I finally came to a realization. Adventure rarely comes to you, you more often have to go to it. Scary, huh? I guess that's part of the risk of adventures, actually beginning one in the first place.

So me sitting at home writing on the computer or wasting endless hours on facebook will bring about an adventure about as much as locking myself in a crate and wishing really really hard. So on Monday I was off, and I looked outside, and it was beautiful. I grabbed some things and headed out to the state park. It was the best day. The woods were almost at the perfect peak of Autumn goodness and I wandered through the trees with my stories streaming through my head. It was cool, it was bright, it was what I needed. Near the end of the trail, I found a deer trail and followed into uncharted territory. I found a deer den complete with deer family, a neat little island in the creek, and a bunch of old glass bottles piled up in the leaves. It was like I was seven and pretending I was the very first person to ever step foot among these trees.

I was satisfied. One of the only times I've felt that these past couple weeks. And the next day we had that huge storm which tore most of the leaves down. If I hadn't gone out, I would have missed it completely.

So here's my reasoning, now that I have put myself in a position that God can use me, he is filling my soul with an undeniable desire for adventure, the next step. And he is making me uncomfortable in my transition so I will not stay where I am or never gather the courage to start the adventure. He is making sure that everything in me will leap for the next step, so that I won't miss the wonderful adventure He has planned.




At least, I think so...

Raw

You know when you try to open a jar that's on really tight and after several tries it finally pops open? Then you look down at your hands and they're red and it hurts to move them. Or how about when you have a sore throat for a long time, and you drink pop or lemonade? Hurts, doesn't it?

Is that your fault? No, not really. You've gone through a stress of some sort and it left that part of your body raw and sensitive.

I thoroughly believe that the spirit is as versatile and complex as the body. This past week has been drastic and volatile in my spiritual life, something I'm grateful for because I am growing from it. But now I realize that all that work God has been doing, all the scraping out of the bad stuff in my life, has left me sensitive and raw.

Every little thing is like lemon juice in a cut. Stupid things that people don't mean, stuff that I take out of context. Its like poking a burn. It wouldn't be a problem at all when I'm healthy, but now that I'm in recovery it hurts like a jerk. I guess that's what I get for being vulnerable.

Another lesson learned: When God does a work in you beware the weeks after. He may leave you so raw that things that didn't bother you before scrape against your sensitive new heart.

Changes

Wow. What a weekend I had. Roller coaster ride.

There was something I realized these past few days (among MANY things)... I have been selfish. Now that's not breaking news in my life, but what I realized was that I've been so selfish I've even been selfish in my sin.

Let me explain, think of sin as a good thing for a moment. I would be the most arrogant person you've ever met. It would be like I was saying, "I'm the best person in the world and you'll never be able to achieve this." Ok, now put sin back to being bad, and I'm saying, "I'm the worst person, and you'll never understand."

How arrogant is that? How selfish am I to believe that I'm more than you even in the bad stuff I do!

I was telling a friend this and he said, "Isn't it nice that the ground is level at the cross?"

Yes, yes it is; I'm so grateful for it. Many things are happening in my life right now, quickly and one after the other. I feel changes on the horizon and am past fearing them and now thoroughly looking forward to them. The music we sang at church yesterday had my eyes so watery that I could barely get the words out. I looked out the window at the sky and said, "Ok, God. Whatever you want."

Read these words, better yet, sing them. They can change your life.

Take my life, and let it be
consecrated, Lord, to thee;
take my moments and my days,
let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my hands, and let them move
at the impulse of thy love;
take my feet, and let them be
swift and beautiful for thee.

Take my voice, and let me sing
always, only, for my King;
take my lips, and let them be
filled with messages from thee.

Take my silver and my gold,
not a mite would I withhold;
take my intellect, and use
every power as thou shalt choose.

Take my will and make it thine;
it shall be no longer mine.
take my heart, it is thine own;
it shall be thy royal throne.

Take my love; my Lord, I pour
at thy feet its treasure store;
take my self, and I will be
ever, only, all for thee.

Have You Ever?

Interesting things today.

Have you ever had someone say this to you?

"Feel free to call anytime, if you have any questions... we want to be vulnerable for you."

.....

Really? It was a first time for me, and it really struck me. Vulnerable for you. What an interesting choice of words. What an interesting sentiment. What a unique position he put himself in by offering a relationship like that. How many people have told you that? If they have, how many have meant it?

Which brings me to my next thought. The person then said, "It really was nice meeting you." Have you ever considered how shallow that phrase is in our culture? You meet someone, shake their hand and say, "Its nice to meet you." whether it is or not. Its as hollow as the mechanical, "How are you?" that has become a new greeting in America. We don't really care how you are. Its not really that nice to meet you. But here after a lunch a man shakes my hand and says that it really was a nice time meeting me.

Interesting. I like this.

I think I'd like to start being vulnerable for people, too.

The Next Steps

Has going to church ever made you depressed? It does most times for me. Several reasons why.

Church is so much more a life than a... thing to me. I feel like church should be this mysteriously desirable place because it doesn't feel like any other place in the world. Walking down the street feels one way, being in the woods another, in your car another, and sitting at home still another. So when I go to church, I keep thinking that it should have a distinct feel to it, something homey, something... alive. But when I go to church it feels like a business. It feels like a classroom. It feels like the BMV. Not exactly what I was hoping for.

I have been church homeless for a year now, and its been very discouraging to go from place to place and never find that uniqueness. A place that's been missing from my life, a place where the combined fusion of loving people with the Spirit of God creates something that feels... alive. A family, a home. Am I asking too much from this? Am I way off base?

The churches I've gone to, all are different. But there was something similar to all of them. It felt... staged. Where did this universal order of service come from? Is everyone doing it because everyone is doing it? It just all seems so strange to me. Stand up, pass the peace, sing in the dark, announcements, video, message with forced vigor, closing song, uncomfortable time between end of service and slipping into the car. That sounds very cynical, but I'm just telling you what I've seen. I mean, I've gone to a brand new church twice now and it is just like the old ones.

Does it ever feel like the congregation is watching the worship team worship? I looked around today and no one was acting like the people on the stage. They all sing with their eyes scrunched shut, arms out when they can manage it, singing the same chorus a dozen times. Then they let the instruments play alone while we can all "worship" on our own, but instead everyone kind of waits awkwardly till we go back to the chorus. Or how about when they play a familiar song, but the praise band leader jazzes it up so you can't really follow along, despite the fact that you know the words?

This is turning into a rant. Its just... I don't really know what to do about church. I can honestly say that church, is one of the most uncomfortable places for me on the planet. That's not good. And the more I see of church, the more I don't like it. Its a show, people don't want to be there, they're terrified to stand up or speak, the pastor has to prompt them to say, "Amen." It feels so hollow to me. Maybe I've just been going to the wrong churches.

Today I was very cynical, and I was a little disgusted with myself for not being able to see past the negative. The music was so loud people were having conversations behind me and no one could hear them. The praise team acted like a rock band, and not a very good one. The pastor dressed like a rock star, and even took his Starbucks coffee on stage with him. "What the hell, dude." actually went through my head when I saw that.

And then he gave the sermon, and dang it if he didn't give a good one. You know what it was on? Depression. Yup. Elijah running from Jezebel. Seeing only the negative in the situation. Being overwhelmed with not understanding what God is up to and feeling like he's forgotten about you. God spoke right to me.

Several things popped out. The pastor said that this new church would not be a negative environment, they would be a positive place. When you focus on the negative you magnify it making it more and more important to you. He said that God is there whether it feels like he is or not. Your feelings can lie to you, and its easy to believe them. Just because it doesn't feel like God is near, or that you still love that person, or that you are still a Christian, doesn't mean any of its true. Its how you're thinking of the situation. The only way to change those feelings, is by changing the way you think of the situation. The way you think changes the way you feel, which changes the way you act. He said that depression usually comes from comparing yourself to others, and seeing how far you fall short. We compare our insides with people's outsides. And that's a losing game.

Guilty, guilty, guilty. And I was getting what God was trying to say. But then the pastor brought up purpose. That was it for me. Elijah needed a new purpose, and from the flight from Jezebel and time in the desert, he was given a new purpose. Another reason people get depressed, their purpose seems to have run out, and waiting on the next one seems like it may never come at all. Boy, did that hit home.

So at the end of the service, he asked people to come down for prayer if they needed it. If anything spoke to you today... and especially for those who feel they need a new purpose. Well, you can imagine how quickly I got out of that building. I felt stupid, and more depressed walking away from that invitation, but I got in my car and started to drive away.

And then I pulled into another parking space and went right back in. The pastor was still there, and I just went to him and said, "I need a new purpose." So they prayed for me. I couldn't help cry because their words were exactly what I needed to hear.

They spoke on how its been a long road with lots of stumbling, but the time is coming when my steps will become more sure. They asked confidence for me in these new steps, give me strength and energy. Surround me with brothers who can encourage me, because discouragement would come. Stop wanting so many answers and trying to hurry things along, God has everything under control. Each thing an arrow in my heart. And then the pastor prayed, your life is like a terrarium that's been barren for a while, but little sprouts are starting to grow. Wherever there is life growing, that's what I'm supposed to work on, that's where I'm supposed to go.

I'm glad I went back. I was depressed before I went in, and I wouldn't say I'm jumping for joy now, but I feel better. So I must be thinking of the situation in better way. God has something in store, he's just taking his time. And I have to stop letting everyone else's progress dictate mine.

So I'll look for the sprouts that are starting to grow in my life...



... and go from there.

Prayer

I have just discovered something about myself. Songs are the best way for me to pray.

I have never been good at praying. Never been diligent enough, never focused enough, never delighted in it. Which, is pretty stupid because prayer is direct access to the God of the universe. That's a fairly precious thing. But I could never figure out how to pray in a way where I actually felt like I was talking to God and he was listening and speaking back. But I just had an epiphany (or apostrophe)... songs are the way.

I love how songs can say the very thing your heart is longing to say, and in such a poetic way. If eyes are the windows to your soul, then songs are the voice of your soul. They say what you can't say, they say what you need to hear the best.

So I listened to a song tonight, and while I sang along I instantly began to pray it to God. And I have not prayed to God like that in a long time. Every word I prayed earnestly, I could feel God nodding and smiling. It was beautiful.

Take a listen. Pray these words.



Does not your heart soar within you? Be thou my great Father, and I thy true son...

Scars & Promises

I've been thinking about changing the name of my blog since I started it. Oak like Faith seemed at the time like an admirable goal, but is becoming more and more out of reach. More a stumbling block than an objective.

So I've spent the last couple months thinking, and praying, over a new name. After a lot of debate, it came down to Scars & Promises. These two things I'm familiar with. These two things have made me who I am.

I wanted the title to speak of brokenness. I've found that brokenness is a staple of humanity. Every person I've met is broken. I learned this especially in college, meeting friends who would slowly show me their scars. Brokenness, is a fact of life, and something that I see glaring in myself. But as I grow, the scars heal it.

I love scars. I don't see them as mars of people's flesh, I see stories. Something extreme had to have happen to maim a person to the point where they can't go back to the way they were. That scar means something, its important. And for Christians, scars can be testaments to how God has worked in their lives. Scars can be a door to show others what God is capable of.

This weekend I was on an Emmaus walk, and it was amazing. The stuff God did, the lives that were moved, the hearts that were opened, the scars that were healed. It was spectacular. God worked on the pilgrims over the weekend, and yesterday, he worked on me. It felt like I had a roto rooter taken to my soul. And God pointed out several places where I was still broken, and in need of a scar.

Which is the rest of the title, the Promises. God may use the hard things of life to make us better, but he never allows a trial without the promise of something better to come. I really have to cling to this because I tend to convince myself that the better things will never come. But God says its different. I will have purpose, I will impact the world, I will have close friends, I will have my own family, I will make God proud.

At times like this, when the Scars are more apparent, I look to the Promises to keep me going on.

The Best Time of the Year

This is my favorite time of the year.
I submit, the best time of the year. I call them, the Bers.
There are four Bers and they grow in increasing amounts of wonderful as time goes by.


First is Septem. This is such a glorious Ber. It may be the best. Summer has just lost its hold on the world, leaving the weather cool enough to go outside without melting into a puddle, but not so cold you need to wear warm clothes. Septem is the herald of the best season, Autumn. It ushers in the leaves, the cloudy skies, the festivals. And there are a few important birthdays in this Ber.


Second is Octo. Octo is when Autumn really sets itself up over the world. It brings the leaves into their vibrant splendor, revealing the uniqueness of each leaf that had been hidden under the ubiquitous green all Summer. Forests blaze like fire, as if to ward off the coming cold of Winter. Corn fields turn to seas of gold, with the promise of the bounty after a long season of work. Festivals pop up in every other small town, with parades, hot cider, fried carnival food, and fun. And most especially, Autumn's greatest attribute starts springing up all over: Pumpkins. One of God's greatest creations. Their homey look, their warm color, their artistic capabilities, and, of course, their endless possibilities of tasty food.


Third is Novem. Novem is the last Ber of Autumn's rule. So it is beautiful, and a little sad. The ruckus of Halloween has passed leaving only the good bits of Autumn left; harvest, bonfires, togetherness. The leaves have passed their splendor on, leaving it on the ground declaring Winter's coming, but giving people that satisfying swish as they walk through them. And it is officially the time for hearty food. Stews, chili, cornbread, pumpkin pie, hot chocolate. A perfect opportunity presents itself in Novem to celebrate these foods with the great holiday of Thanksgiving. A time for families to come together to celebrate all that they have by sharing as much of the harvest bounty with each other. Such a great Ber.

There is a magic in Autumn. A smell in the air, a feel in the sky. Its like no other time, a specific flavor to the world that God gives for a short while. Autumn gives you a feeling for how wild the world is, as the clouds churn gray and the wind whips through the leaves. It creates excitement and possibilities of places to discover amid the forests and back roads. But it also gives a feeling of home. The cool weather bundles you up, inspires you to gather with others. The warm colors make you want to build a fire and spend the night talking with loved ones. It calls people to come home. Nothing will ever be like Autumn, it is a magical, magical season. And one that reminds us how alive the world is, and how very abundant it can be.


The last Ber is Decem, the herald of Winter. Although it takes away the magic of Autumn, it replaces it with a magic of its own: Christmas. Christmas takes the homey feeling of Autumn and culminates it in a time of true family gathering. There's no place like home for Christmas. The fresh snow is exciting and clean, it blankets the world as if to say, "Let's start over again." Because its been gone for so long you don't even mind the cold it brings. Instead, snowmen ideas start popping up in your head, the urge to sled down the steepest hill takes over. Cookies, cakes, hot meats, come into every meal. The lights, the singing, the charity, the love all take over the Ber, leaving nothing but goodwill.

But Decem holds a higher honor than all of that. It has one of the most sacred holidays in existence. Decem gets to celebrate the time when a beyond loving God placed himself into our world, to show how much he cared. A God who decided to forfeit his life in order to save his creation. Decem is quite a holy Ber, and from this holiday springs forth all the joy and love and comfort that Christmas holds. It truly is the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

And those are the Bers. The magic of Autumn, the honor of Christmas. I am going to cherish every second of this year's Bers.

I hope you'll do the same.

Tired

Tonight is first night since... sometime last week that I don't have to go somewhere, or do something, or see someone.

I approve.

Not to say that what has been filling my time isn't good, but they've all piled onto each other. This Saturday is the culmination of most of the summer. I will be previewing my talk for Emmaus, something that I'm not as nervous about anymore. I like the direction it went, and I think I'll enjoy giving it. Just have to work on those posters! Saturday is also the Called to Belong Worship Event that I've been practicing for. 2 and a half months of Mondays in Ashland all culminating at 6 o'clock. It should be wonderful. If the last few practices have shown me anything... its gonna be amazing. Saturday is also my cousin's birthday, who just left for college at Miami (Ohio). She lives across the street and is very much like my sister. Only been gone for under a week, but the first few days were very rough on her. I think she's been doing better now that classes started. And Saturday is the Restoring Honor event in Washington, something my parents really wished they could have gone to. Expect revival to start sweeping the nation because people are going to start proclaiming God from the marble steps once again!

So I'm tired. But its been a good summer. Lots of family time, no sunburns, fresh veggies, bonfires, and good friends. And next week will be the beginning of my favorite time of year, which I will post on later. But it starts with birthday week.

My brother's birthday, my birthday, my sister-in-law's birthday. All within a week of each other. Bring on the cake.

Love Each Other

I admit that [loving your enemy] means loving people who have nothing lovable about them. But then, has oneself anything lovable about it? You love it simply because it is yourself. God intends us to love all selves in the same way and for the same reason: but He has given us the sum [already] worked out in our own case to show us how it works. We have then to go on and apply the rule to all the other selves. Perhaps it makes it easier if we remember that that is how He loves us. Not for any nice, attractive qualities we think we have, but just because we are the things called selves. For really there is nothing else in us to love: creatures like us who actually find hatred such a pleasure that to give it up is like giving up beer or tobacco...

- Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis

New Mission

Well its official. I'm a table leader for the next Men's Emmaus Walk. (!)

Its amazing how quickly things change. Like, a few minutes ago, before I called Lee, I was feeling fine. Now, a few minutes later after the call, I have a sinkhole in my stomach. Can I be honest with you? I'm terrified of doing this. If there is one thing I REALLY don't want to screw up, its talking about God to someone else. That's one of those things that has a lasting effect on people. I know so many people who've had one bad encounter with a Christian and BAM, they're off God for good.

When I called Lee tonight, he asked the verdict and I told him, "I'll do it for ya." Then he said jokingly, "Well, I hope you're doing it for God." I gave him a chuckle and while he was rifling around for a pen and paper I just closed my eyes and whispered..."I'm not ready for this." That phone call proved it.

To be blunt, I'm not good enough to preach about God, or lead people. I feel wholly inadequate for this. Everything in me is screaming to run, but I have no excuse to. And I know these feelings aren't of God, so why am I still so concerned?

I've deleted the next sentence six times at least. I just don't know what to say. My head is well aware that God will be there, that He will be speaking, that I will grow through this, that my ability has nothing to do with any of this. But I'm still kind of freaked out. I don't know how to make my heart understand what my head already knows.

You gotta pray for me. I'm gonna need it.

(freak out)

Growing Perfect

He warned people to 'count the cost' before becoming Christians. 'Make no mistake', He says, 'if you let me, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand that I am going to see this job through. Whatever suffering it may cost you in your earthly life, whatever inconceivable purification it may cost you after death, whatever it costs Me, I will never rest, nor let you rest, until you are literally perfect - until my Father can say without reservation that He is well pleased with you, as He said He was well pleased with me. This I can do and will do. But I will not do anything less.'

And yet - this is the other and equally important side of it - this Helper who will, in the long run, be satisfied with nothing less than absolute perfection , will also be delighted with the first feeble, stumbling effort you make tomorrow to do the simplest duty. As a great Christian writer (George MacDonald) pointed out, every father is pleased at the baby's first attempt to walk: no father would be satisfied with anything less than a firm, free, manly walk in a grown-up son. In the same way, he said, 'God is easy to please, but hard to satisfy.'

- Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

Wow.

Pondering

Have you ever felt like your brain was going to just... shut down? For some reason I cannot concentrate on one thing. Not one. Every thought on practically every aspect of my life is jostling for the forefront, beating each other to a pulp for the front of the line. Job decisions bashes prayer life in the face, while Friendships are kicked in the groin by thoughts on marriage. Money troubles has my book and Spiritual life down on the ground kicking it over and over and over, and I think issues at the coffee shop just got knocked unconscious, by what I should eat for dinner. It makes for a confusing metaphor, and an overloaded mind.

What to do? I'm pondering life at the moment. I have no job I have joy in, because I'm not looking for one. My book is getting no where, because I'm not working on it, or motivated enough. I have no money, because all I want to do is sit around. I rarely see my friends because of distance, but I'm not trying to make new ones. I'm getting chubby, because I never exercise. And my spiritual life is tanking, because I'm not trying hard enough.

Why? It seems like the major component to my downfall here, is me. So how do I get me out of the way? If there's one thing I've learned about myself, its that I want to better myself. If there's two things I've learned, its that I'm incapable of doing it.

Or am I? What do you do? Do you have these thoughts, or am I the only one? Do you wonder about life, and what's to come of yours, and wonder why you are where you are? Are you your own worst enemy, like that jerk, Ethan, is to me?

Just to clarify, I don't hate myself, but I sure am confused by him. He's much more contradiction than man. And I wonder if that will ever change. I know by the Grace of God it can happen, but will I ever let it?

Brain starting to shut down, too many thoughts to think.

I think I need a change. And that's why I'm just...


...pondering life.

Brotherhood

I feel like I talk about this a lot, but it is the most poignant revelation I've had in a long time. Brotherhood is the lost sacrament. It seems like this essential part of life just got forgotten over time, which is hard to believe seeing that it is such a necessary thing! There's a reason Jesus picked several men to band together and invest in each others' lives. It wasn't just for them. Almost everything Jesus did was to be an example. So why have we disregarded this one? In my opinion, its because no one knows how to bring it about anymore.

The only people I can think that still gain brotherhood today are military men. Those men train side by side, seeing each other at their very weakest and their very strongest. They go out into dangerous situations completely willing to die for the man next to them. Its sad that we have to subject our guys to something so fierce to experience this, when its available right here, right now.

Ever since the Emmaus Walk in September, I have been learning of this lost sacrament. It came in the most unlikely package, which I am very grateful for. It had a very subtle beginning with a simple invitation. From the first time I met with the guys I knew this was different, this was something I had been looking for and didn't know it. These men laid face down on the ground, crying out to God to help us grow closer to Him. I couldn't really take it in at the time.

But the more amazing thing has come from months of being with them. Brotherhood is not a moment, it is a lifetime. You will know when you have attained a brotherhood when you look back on your past and see how difficult life was before you met them. How you struggled to follow God, but couldn't quite keep it up. How your wife, your pastor, your friends were always there for you, but for some reason things never got past 'good'. But then it changed. A group of men, dying to know the intimate secrets of God, His deepest desires, came into your life. They came, you didn't make them or find them, because God wanted to give them to you. And because these men loved God so much, they were able to pass that Love on to others. They pray fiercely for each other, not just for protection and prosperity, but for God's will. If you needed broken they would pray for strength as God broke you. These men who care about your struggles and victories, who never flinch or shy away as you bare your scarred soul to them. In fact, they respect you more when you open yourselves to them, and they return the act of trust to show just how human they are too. These men, who take joy in your friendship, who get frustrated with spiritual apathy when God is so abundant, who cry openly at the saddest and happiest moments in their life, and never... ever forget how much God has done for them.

When you look back on your life and see those men there, you will know that you have discovered the Lost Sacrament. And how blessed you are because of it. Men NEED Men. The biggest problem with our lives and country and Church is that men are still boys, wandering around lost. There is a reason Jesus brought several men together. He intended for us to band together. I have never felt so supported, so able to grow in Christ, so encouraged to do so! They speak words into my heart, inspire me, convict me, listen to me, and most importantly, love me... no matter what, forever showing me what the Love of God is like.

I have always wanted friends like them. And I would gladly lay my life down for them, in a heartbeat.

This weekend seems appropriate to write about this. I have a good friend visiting from Kansas, one who once told me that he didn't think of me as one of the guys... but more like a brother. That was the first person to ever tell me that. And it changed things. He is bringing his new son to show off and I'm very excited to meet him. At the same time, a friend I have known for a very short time is driving away to follow God's will at the bottom of the country. I will miss him, but am grateful that I even got to meet him. The next day a new brother and very dear friend is preaching at his church, the place he was 'birthed'. It is his first time and I am pumped to hear what God has been whispering to him these past couple weeks.

I love that God created this wonderful sacrament for men. And because it is so forgotten in our culture and Church, I feel I need to spread the word about it.

Ditto

My brother Kenny wrote this. Go read his post. I couldn't help agreeing. Every man should have this.

Every man in this picture is a gift given to me by God. Every man has spoken words of encouragement to me at some point...usually when I needed it the most. They have spoken words of wisdom that I have needed to hear. They have shown me the love of Christ by their generosity, their unconditional love, their grace, mercy and forgiveness. Their testimonies have strengthened my own faith walk. Their passion and love for the Lord has strengthened me in my times of weakness and doubt. I need them, I value them, I admire them, I respect them, I love them, but above all else I thank God for them.

Ditto.

Men's Retreat

This last weekend I went on a retreat with some very dear friends to a ranch over the hills east. What a wonderful time; quiet, comfortable, intimate, revealing. There is nothing like the brotherhood I have fallen into by the Grace of God, but I will write about that later. Right now I want to tell a little story of my trip.

There was a time to go walking in the woods, by ourselves, to wait on God. Kenny encouraged us to bring something back, something you wrote, something you heard, a rock, a leaf, anything. Just something to share when we all came back together. I set out around the fences determined to find my "spot", where God would speak to me. The ranch is 500 acres and is covered in woods that are crisscrossed with muddy cow paths and electric fences. The going was especially rough with all the wet weather we have been having so ground sunk with every step, and all the cow paths were rutted and littered with landmines. I was soaked with sweat in a matter of minutes. After passing one of my buddies on a fallen tree I found the electric fence barrier. I really wanted to go past it and head deep into the woods so I followed along to find a way over. A cow path ran alongside it, and the easiest spot to traverse was between the fence and muddy hoofprints. One little slip and, ZAP. I finally figured that there was no way over the fence so I headed back into the woods.
After crossing the tiny creek, I came upon a field. It was very weedy and I didn't really want to run through because of ticks. So I turned and found a little path through the trees. I trudged through some thorns and mud to find a nice view of the valley. I turned to find a log toppled right at the beginning of the hill creating a perfect natural bench. My Spot.

I settled down and began to listen. I asked God to speak, and I waited. Instead of revelations I got insects. Everything came out of the woodwork, literally! Flies, mosquitoes, daddy long legs, even jiggers! I wasn't down with any of this. But I wanted to hear from God, so I waited. I kept thinking of what Kenny said, to bring something. Right at my feet was an enormous seed growing from a plant. I thought that was exactly what I should bring back. After a minute of staring at it, though, I realized, that seed meant nothing to me. I would be sharing it for sharing's sake, and that plant had worked so hard to make it. So I waited some more, batting the bugs away.

Finally a few raindrops started to fall, and I didn't want my papers getting soaked. I went back to the field and dashed through it to a cow path on the other side. When I traveled down it in the direction of the lodge I came upon the muddiest, steepest trail yet, and there was no way around, I would have to go through or go back. Slowly but surely I stepped from grassy spot to grassy spot in the mudslick. I even tried to use fallen branches to walk across but that ended badly. Finally I got to some water at the bottom of the hill, and washed my shoes, all the while looking for the "thing" I'm supposed to bring back. Nothing there. I hopped up the other side of the hill and broke the tree line. A buddy spotted me and yelled from the lodge, and I started around the fences back up to him. The rest of the way there I kept thinking how disappointed I was. That God hadn't spoke, that I hadn't heard him, that I was soaked, tired, muddy... and empty handed.

Right when I stepped onto the path next to the lodge, I looked down. And I saw something.

Before we went out we had been discussing names, new names, and what they meant. Rev. 2:17 was brought up: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it." So when I looked down, I couldn't help but smile. This is what I found.


A little white stone. When I washed it off (along with myself), I discovered it was pearly and completely smooth. I loved it. I found it interesting that in my endeavor to go out and meet God in a moment of my own choosing, my real revelation came in the journey itself. I saw more of life's lessons in walking the edge of two undesirable paths; in realizing the rocks were the most stable places to walk when crossing the mud; in seeing God's details while watching a daddy long legs use his front legs to tap out a path on a leaf. God came over the whole experience, not in one moment. And in the end, once I had overcome the woods, bitten, muddy and sweaty, I was given a white stone.

So where is the name, you ask? Well there wasn't anything on the outside, but that just brings us to the end of the story. I had actually found two, and one I gave to a friend who I thought could use it. He discovered the stone was actually a bit see through. He asked if I had looked in mine and of course, I hadn't. So he took it, trying to find the best light, finally finding it in the bathroom. After a moment he called me over and told me to look through. There, in just the right light, very faint, was a cross.

My name may not be written on the stone, but a more important one is etched inside it. And that is the name of the One who helps us overcome in the first place, because He truly Overcame.

Two Powerful Words

I'm pretty sure that two of the most powerful and life-changing words in the history of the human language are... But Jesus.

If you think about the context you can put those two words into... there's not a lot left out. A man is a drunkard and beats his wife and kids, and is completely sure there's no way to change himself... but Jesus. A woman is a liar and loves to know people's miseries so she can spread the news to everyone she knows... but Jesus. A person is at their lowest and has nowhere to turn, you've run out of money and have no job in sight, loss of a loved one, divorce, injury, zealot of another religion, home destroyed... a hatred in one's heart that scares even themselves...

... But Jesus. But Jesus can save. But Jesus can grow them into greater people. But Jesus can make a way when their seems no way. But Jesus, Loves. Maybe the third most powerful word.

You may have wretchedness, hate, destruction, sin, underconfidence, doubt, worry, murder, lust or just plain apathy in you... But Jesus. But Jesus Loves.

Thank God those two words are available to me. Because this person is too far from God to ever think he's worth something to Him. But Jesus... loves me anyway, knows there's something more inside of me, won't give up even if I do.

This life may be hard and this world may be rough...

... But Jesus.

My Imagination

This is where my imagination goes...

... I've been inspired.

In the Hall

I know I post a lot of Lewis, but he just strikes me.

"I hope no reader will suppose that 'mere' Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions. ...It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals. the hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable. It is true that some people may find they have to wait in the hall for a considrable time, while others feel certain almost at once which door they must knock at. I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wiat. When you do get into your room you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not camping. You must keep on praying for the light: and, of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling. In plain language, the question should never be: 'Do I like that kind of service?' but 'Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?'

When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house."

- C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

This, is my life. I am in the hall.

Weddings

This weekend's gonna be busy. I'm going to a wedding in Delaware on Saturday afternoon, and another wedding in Mansfield on Sunday night. Sat - family, Sun - friend.

It got me thinking about how many weddings I've been to. I honestly can't even tell you. Since I started college I've probably been to 3-5 a year consistently. Recently, the number has increased I'm sure. A wedding weekend is nothing new to me. I'm actually getting quite sick of the things in general. Other than these this weekend, I can think of four more just this summer. I even had a friend today tell me their relationship was moving into marriage prospects. Its a bombardment, really.

Weddings are strange to me. They're like the stars, if you think about them too long they don't make any sense. There is so much work for so little. Gobs of money and time and thought and stress and compromise and money go into a day. People are invited from the farthest reaches of your family to come see thirty minutes of a ceremony. A ceremony that for some reason requires so much preparation for the participants to ... speak. That's it. A wedding is just about two people coming together in front of God, a pastor (or judge), and family to say, "You know what? I love you so much I want to make a contract that I'll never leave you. That's how serious I am."

This may sound like a rant, but its not against weddings, per say. Its more against how weddings are done now. Its not a concert, its not a grand opening of a hotel, its not Christmas in New York... it shouldn't cost thousands of dollars.
$1200 wedding dress? $2000 for flowers? $700 in tuxes? A full meal for all your guests? AND you invited 350 people?

Does any of this make any sense? I think all the pomp and preparation that goes into a modern wedding drastically takes away from the actual meaning of the day. Its, "all 500 of the invitations are made and they misspelled my name," not, "soon I'm going to have your name." Its, "I hope the DJ doesn't say anything lewd or the mother-in-law go out to catch the bouquet," not, "I can't believe we'll get to be together all the time." Its turned from something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue... into that church's too old, I want gold china too, your sister can't be a bridesmaid, her skin doesn't match my colors- ivory and blue.

What happened? Where is the "marriage"? The day is about two people. Not six attendants on each side and making sure they're all sober. Its about vowing to stay with each other till death, not spending the down payment on a house on one party for a fling that lasts a year. Its about a family... the ones who actually know the bridegroom, being apart of a momentous day. They get to hear two people say, "You're worth so much to me, I pledge myself to you. I want to make sure you'll have someone to take care of you when you're sick, work extra jobs when you're poor, hold your hand when your family/job/church is driving you nuts... and celebrate when none of that is happening."

I'm a drama major and I'm saying, all that pomp and production is distracting people. Its taking away from the couple as they plan, its taking away from the guests on the day, and its taking away the glory, from God.

Before you say anything about me not understanding because I haven't been through it, I've been in six weddings. Two I helped in the planning stages. One I was a best man. I even was in two on the same day! My family calls me 27 tuxes.

So make it simple, people. Maybe then you won't get cold feet, or have bruised groomsmen from getting drunk, or feuding families because of details. Look nice, get together, say the real vows (sickness, health, richer, poorer... PROMISE THINGS), and make sure you remember...

... God gave you that person. Thank Him.

Personality

The more we get what we now call 'ourselves' out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. There is so much of Him that millions and millions of 'little Christs', all different, will still be too few to express Him fully. He made them all. He invented - as an author invents characters in a novel - all the different men that you and I were intended to be. In that sense our real selves are all waiting for us in Him. It is no good trying to 'be myself' without Him. The more I resist Him and try to live on my own, the more I become dominated by my own heredity and upbringing and surroundings and natural desires. In fact what I so proudly call 'Myself' becomes merely the meeting place for trains of events which I never started and which I cannot stop. What I call 'My wishes' become merely the desires thrown up by my physical organism or pumped into me by other men's thoughts or even suggested to me by devils. Eggs and alcohol and a good night's sleep will be the real origins of what I flatter myself by regarding as my own highly personal and discriminating decision to make love to the girl opposite to me in the railway carriage. Propaganda will be the real origin of what I regard as my own personal political ideas. I am not, in my natural state, nearly so much of a person as I like to believe: most of what I call 'me' can be very easily explained. It is when I turn to Christ, when I give myself up to His Personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own.

- C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Feeling Creative...

Wow, I feeling really creative!
First of all, I now have in my possession, physical copies of my book. Oh...yeah. I have to tell you it has not, for one second, felt like I had written a book until my brother handed me those stacks of bound paper. On the way home I just kept looking through them, brushing my fingers over the inked words on a real piece of paper. Wow...

So that has really gotten the creative side of me up and moving. I'm kind of getting bombarded with artful things. A friend of mine is sending me some of her songs she's written and just listening to her sing, and sing something brand new, excites me! I've been reading Carlos Whittaker's blog Ragamuffin Soul, which is very encouraging for a Creative Christian. The last post came from his blog. He's also clued me in to this, which I love. And this, which I really want to go to. I mean, isn't that coolest website ON EARTH?

I will tell you one thing. If there is one thing in this entire world that will stimulate your creative soul, it is a walk through the woods. I just couldn't waste the day, I had to take advantage of the sun and trees. It was beautiful. There is a smell in the woods... like wet bark and sunshine, it is the best smell. The light flickering through the green leaves, the mud under my sandals, the birds singing an opera, and as we were heading back I got a whiff of one of the most comforting and powerful smells on earth... a campfire.

I can assure you the deep part of my heart where creativity burns is blazing like that campfire.


Let's see what we can create...

Now That's More Like It...

This song is fun...



And this is powerful.

Just FYI

I find myself wanting to write more. Which is a little strange, but every time I log in I stare at my last post and think, "Is there anything new to talk about?" I know that's one of the oldest and lamest excuses in the history of writing, but it truly affects me. I just don't know what to write about.

So instead I read. I read books, devotionals, pamphlets and other blogs, and you know what a lot of them say (when they're talking about writing)? Write what you know, tell your story. Well, that's good and all, but when it comes down to it, my life isn't terribly write-worthy. Heck, I don't talk about the majority of my day in my daily conversations. So what's there to write about?

I did all this thinking while brushing my teeth, and then I looked down at my new toothbrush. You know how the new ones have those ridges on the back of the brush so you can clean your tongue? I gave it a shot and almost threw up. Not a good thing with a mouth full of toothpaste. Sorry, Oral B, this is one tongue that is not going to be appropriately hygienic.

Its such a well intentioned invention, but it makes me gag. And that made me wonder, how many other well intentioned inventions disagree with people? For that matter, how many good foods, medicines, charities, churches, well intentioned ideas, words, converstations....


actually make people gag?

Working on it...

I was reading Carlos Whittaker's blog today and found a post from eight days ago. It was called, Will you please give it up?

"You are on the verge of giving up on your dream.
You are tired.
You are broken.
You are weak.
You are done.
Guess what?
You are finally at the place where you can achieve your dreams.
“For we rejoice when we ourselves are weak but you are strong” – 2 Cor 13:9

You are sitting at the place where you can give up your feeble attempt of living the Christian life and finally let Him live this impossible life FOR YOU.
So in your weakness…may your dreams finally begin to rise."

Be encouraged ragamuffins.
Los

Boy, does that speak to me. I'm starting to understand. Today I found these two verses posted by friends on facebook.

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!"

Isn't it interesting that when God made Himself nothing He made Himself a human? I am beginning to understand. Beginning to scratch the surface of starting to grasp the generality of the concept of Me = nothing without God. Our weakness makes us strong. Our "strength" makes us weak. I'm working on it...

True Solitude

"No Christian and, indeed no historian could accept the epigram which defines religion as "what a man does with his solitude." It was one of the Wesleys, I think, who said that the New Testament knows nothing of solitary religion. We are forbidden to neglect the assembling of ourselves together. Christianity is already institutional in the earliest of its documents. The Church is the Bride of Christ. We are members of one another.

In our own age the idea that religion belongs to our private life - that it is, in fact, an occupation for the individual's hour of leisure - is at once paradoxical, dangerous, and natural. It is paradoxical because this exaltation of the individual in the religious field springs up in an age when collectivism is ruthlessly defeating the individual in every other field... There is a crowd of busybodies, self-appointed masters of ceremonies, whose life is devoted to destroying solitude wherever solitude still exists. They call it "taking the young people out of themselves," or "waking them up," or "overcoming their apathy." If an Augustine, a Vaughan, a Traherne, or a Wordsworth should be born in the modern world, the leaders of a youth organization would soon cure him. If a really good home, such as the home of Alcinous and Arete in the Odyssey or the Rostovs in War and Peace or any of the Charlotte M. Yonge's families, existed today, it would be denounced as bourgeois and every engine of destruction would be leveled against it. And even where the planners fail and someone is left physically by himself, the wireless has seen to it that he will be - in a sense not intended by Scipio - never less alone than when alone. We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and privacy, and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship."

- C.S. Lewis

This was written in 1949. Sounds familiar...

Making Changes

When I was in New Zealand, I bought a spiral bone necklace at an outdoor market. I really love this thing, its tribal and has a fierce little design etched into it. I put it on November of 06, and have not taken it off for one day since.

Its sitting on the desk in front of me now. Something compelled me inside to just, shed it. I needed a change. I needed some piece of me outwardly to change. So I took it off. Easier said than done.

There were six knots on the string. It took me quite a bit of time just to get the first two undone. I worked and worked, but finally I realized I couldn't get the rest. They were too close to me, and I couldn't see them. I kept trying to undo them myself, but finally I resigned to go ask for help. That didn't work so well either. She got the next knot off but the rest were too complex. They were knotted over top each other, and after three and half years, were almost melding into one.

After she gave up too, I got a needle and tried to pull the tangle of string apart. You see, my problem was that I wanted to keep the necklace string intact, in case I ever want to wear it again. So I was going out of my way to try to undo these wretched knots, when deep down I knew there was no saving them. Finally, I did the only thing left I could do. When the scissors made their defining 'snip' and the bone swung down in my hand, I felt an odd mix of sadness and relief. I held it in my hand, staring at the yellow stain it has become, from soaking up all my sweat and dirt from all these years.

I was sad to see it go, but so glad to have it gone. I was comforted by having it there with me all the time, but now that its been cut from my neck, I know change is coming. I feel like this little necklace has demonstrated my life recently.

I'm making changes in my life. I'm tired of the old way. I'm tired of the old me, and my ditch-way of thinking. Last night I was encouraged to forget thinking about making new steps, and start taking them. So I started small today, I began to clean my rooms. And do you know what happened? One of the first few drawers I started to empty, there at the bottom was a letter opener, an ornate letter opener that I got in Spain and have been looking for for four years. It was like a little nod from God.

If you start getting rid of all the crap in your life, you'll find all the good things that have been buried underneath.

Deeper Roots

In a vineyard there are two types of grapevines.
The first is watered generously, and bears a lot of fruit for about two to three years. After that it won't bear anymore and the workers have to tear it out and start all over again.

The other only gets watered a little. The vine wants more water, as much as the other vine, but the workers refuse to give it more. They wait until the plant is just about to wilt, and then water it again. This puts a considerable amount of stress on the plant and puts it in a seriously uncomfortable position. The plant must dig its roots deeper into the soil, searching for the natural water that always flows beneath it. And when it finally reaches that water, its roots and leaves are stronger, and bear better fruit, up to 10 years.

Being in uncomfortable times is no fun, but its not a bad thing. Being stressed by your situation is frustrating, but its not the end of the world. In those times God is making you dig your roots deeper, to find that Living Water that is always there. And when we do reach that fount, we're stronger, we're healthier, and we bear fruit longer.

This is a thought from Alyssa Barlow, and it touched my heart. I hate the uncomfortable times when God is teaching me how to work really early, how to persevere through some mundane tasks, and more often than not, patience. I get so frustrated with the stressful times when I have no money, or I have to talk to people I don't want to talk to, or I feel lonely. But because of those lessons, I have deeper roots. I can't stand them when I learn them, but I never regret them after.

So in your dry times, are you digging deeper?



Because I think its worth it.

The Reassuring Hand of God

You know those times of your life where every thought in your head whirls around like the remains of a trailer park in a twister, never seeming to EVER land? And though more seems to add to the mix, nothing is ever answered? And you get so desperate that all you want is just one answer, just one.

Well, I can't seem to concentrate lately. On anything (that always makes prayer difficult). But I think in these times of chaos the devil takes advantage of your confusion and heaps more than your little mind can bear. Instead of just wondering about jobs, friends, money... life, the universe, and everything, he shoves in a little doubt here, a little guilt there, and whispers how bad a person you are.

I think that's been my life lately. And for me, in these times I am so desperate to hear from God because every time I do, the chaos settles like a storm. A few days ago I got to the point where I didn't know where to turn. I just needed an answer, and I couldn't think of who would be able to give me the answer. That whole night was just a slow depression easing itself onto my shoulders. And then an idea popped into my head. An idea so random I knew it was from God. Write to an old friend.

This friend was an integral part of my college life. And sadly, I haven't spoken to him in years. So I went to the computer, sat down, and just poured my heart out to him. When I hit send I said to God, "Please speak to me in this response."

The next day I got a response. It made me cry. You're told God cares about your issues, you read that nothing is too small for God to notice, but you don't really understand these things until you experience them. I was surprised at how quickly I got my answer. I was surprised at how astute my friend's answer was, something that spoke directly to my heart. ... I was surprised that I had to look up an old friend to get it. When you pray, you should believe that God will answer. And yet, I'm surprised God gave me an answer at all.

I've been praying for a few things for a long time and God keeps postponing them, giving me alternate things instead. I ask for a career that I can be in for several years, and he gives me a part-time job at a coffee shop. Stuff like that. I guess I've gotten to the point where I didn't expect to get what I asked for anymore. I always pray knowing the answer may be no, but I think I just turned that into I pray knowing the answer is no.

That's not a good thing.

But you know what is? That response. I can never understand God's love or why He cares at all, but I am grateful He does, and that He reassures me of it. And even though its still hard to concentrate, its not a twister anymore...



Its just windy.