.: when grace speaks :.

If and when our lives are truly touched by the grace of God, we cannot help but respond. And that response is not just inward, but by the power of the Spirit of God, it is also outward. When our lives are touched by grace, that grace cannot help but cause us to speak.
And, my friends, when grace speaks, it does not steal from that other person, but it introduces even greater grace into the lives of those that hear it.
When grace speaks, it does not communicate a grudge that it has been holding onto, but it lets that person off the hook that we put them on in the first place.
When grace speaks, it does not obligate others to think like we think, but it frees them up to think their own thoughts.
When grace speaks, it does not brag about what it has accomplished, but rejoices with what others have done in life.
When grace speaks, it does not parade all that it knows in front of that other person, but it draws out their own thoughts and feelings about an issue.
When grace speaks, it does not seek to weigh another soul down, but it lifts it up through encouragement.
When grace speaks, it does not humiliate a person because of what they have said or done, but it allows them to save face (even at the speaker's expense).
When grace speaks, it does not judge a person upon what he or she does or does not know, but it affords them the chance to teach as well as (possibly) be taught.
When grace speaks, it does not trumpet all that it has achieved, but it rejoices in what others have accomplished.
When grace speaks, it does not work to impress those around it, but it allows itself to be impressed by someone else.
When grace speaks, it does not pride itself on all its various ambitions in life, but it works to nurture the hopes and dreams that lies in the hearts of those all around it.
When grace speaks, it does not compare itself against those who are supposedly inferior, but it realizes that God is doing different things in different lives.
When grace speaks, it does not assume that it is the first to speak the truth to that person, but it understands that the Spirit is already engaged in some sort of conversation with them.
When grace speaks, it does not proclaim its own agenda under the guise of spiritual truth, but it calls every individual to live within the freedom that Christ has won.
When grace speaks, it does not say one thing to one person and the opposite to another, but it is consistent with everyone who hears it.
When grace speaks, it does not stir up strife between anyone (itself included), but it speaks words of peace that cause others to drop their guard.
When grace speaks, it does not allow itself to damage or destroy another person's reputation, but it takes that other person's heart and life into consideration before it even utters a word.
When grace speaks, it does not come to collect on whatever debt it feels like it is owed, but it releases that other person from any kind of obligation.
When grace speaks, it does not sing its own praises about all that it has done for the Lord, but it celebrates when God has been glorified, no matter who was involved.
When grace speaks, it does not show favoritism towards those that it prefers, but it chooses to bless everyone who it interacts with.
And when grace speaks, it does not act artificial so that others might be impressed, but it is genuine and open with everyone whom its encounters.

But what will it cost us to speak like this with one another?

.: assured by sunrise :.

This morning I woke with the deepest sense of self, deeper than anything that I have felt for the longest time. I woke to find that I am less afraid than I have been all week, all year, maybe even all my life. I woke to discover that I could not be any more in love than I am already. I woke to find that my heart feels so in touch with genuine beauty, it is almost frightening. I woke to find that immense knowledge no longer intimidates me. I was awakened by the rediscovery that warmth is one of the greatest senses of safety. My eyes opened, only this time I find that I see much deeper and wider than ever before. Something has struck a chord in me, and every passion is firing off in me with the hope that I can share it with the entire world. Something eternal is making itself known to me, revealing that I get to play a central role in the greatest event known to humankind. My hands feel like they could save someone or something. I woke to find that I am capable of moving in a way that protects the weak and brokenhearted. Though I have feared death for so long, something within me has stirred in such a way that death no longer holds its grip on me. I am awake and alive, thriving on the thought that so many of my expectations will soon become realities. This morning I was stirred by the truth that I could not be any more filled with life than I am right now. My soul feels like it has years and years left in it. I am in a place where moments of heartfelt joy feel more like home than the confidence of a filled mind. I woke this morning with the impression that I have nothing left to fear and no regrets that I will carry to my grave. My heart is overflowing with the sensation that comes right before finding that you have been fully set free. I woke this morning with the feeling that I am only moments away from being released. I have known that there is something to fight for. But only now do I feel fully prepared to engage in the battles that are calling me out. I no longer need to draw from the wells around me. For I have woken with the sense that I can now begin to give what has been fixed and fitted within me. No longer must I be inspired, for now I am an inspiration. There is no one more to impress. This morning finds me in a place where I can fully be myself, for that is more than enough.

.: my existential wish list :.

I wish that I could walk around this world and remain unaffected.
I wish that I did not have to look certain people in the eyes.
I wish that I could disconnect from the things that make me cry in my sleep.
I wish that I lived further away from the broken people that surround me.
I wish that I was not so aware of the places that they have been.
I wish that I made greater connections with the joy all around me, rather than all the pain.
I wish that I was better at communicating with a simple smile.
I wish that I could remain detached from the endless expressions of suffering.
I wish that I could wake to a world where there were no poor or underprivileged.
I wish that I was not so familiar with defeat and loss.
I wish that I was not so good at finding so many other places to go to escape.
I wish that I could hold off the reasons that demand so great of a sacrifice.
I wish that I could make it so that what everyone had was exactly what he or she required.
I wish that I could face every sickness and disease with brighter eyes.
I wish that I could fix it so that anger and resentment was not a way of life.
I wish that I could let my sadness reach only so deep and no further than that.
I wish that I could enforce laughter as a mandatory rule of being.
I wish that I was better at keeping it all together myself.
I wish that I could promise others that all the confusion serves a noble purpose.
I wish that I could provide a way for others to escape their fears.
I wish that I could settle my soul with the truth that no one is alone.
I wish that I was better at mending a broken heart.
I wish that I could get away with using more than only what I truly needed.
I wish that I could convince everyone of something greater than simple survival.
I wish that I could provide them with a safer place to live.
I wish that I did not have different sides to pick.
I wish that I could allow every child to keep their innocence throughout their early years.
I wish that I was surrounded with sweeter melodies than the dirges that more often fill my ears.
I wish that I could take away the shame that weighs everybody down.
I wish that I did not feel so bound to my neighbor.
I wish that I could find a way to silence the inward urgings to make a difference.
I wish that I could suddenly find myself in a better world, with or without a reason.
I wish that there were far fewer questions than convincing answers.
I wish that my words were a cure for it all.
I wish that they made even the slightest difference.
I wish that my happiness was more contagious and incurable.
I wish that my every hope was here and now.
I wish that I was not so aware of all these ideas in my head.

I wish that I could remain untouched by it all.
But more than all these things, I want to be awake and alive.

Even so, I cannot find a way to embrace all such realities with my whole heart.

.: 7/30/07 :.

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good."
- "Funeral Blues", W.H. Auden -

Life is made up of memories that we so often find we wish we could remain within. Those memories typically revolve around the experiences that captured our senses. But even more, they are deepened by the people that we once shared them with, men and women that we were drawn to because of our having gone through it together. That being said, there are memories that I have of my friend, Jason Kessler, that have returned to me in light of his recent death. Jason and I attended the same church and youth group throughout our High School years, and later attended college in Southern California for three of our four years down there (including a semester in Israel). During that time, we grew up together amidst the same communities and faced so many of the same issues. There was a time in our lives when we felt like the poster boys for pastoral ministry at our church, considering the fact that we were both heading in that direction academically.

But life and time have a funny way of trying to dissolve even the closest of friendships, and in the years that followed our individual college graduations, we slowly but surely began to head in two different directions. We often tried to carve out time together, to simply catch up and remain invested in each other's lives. But over the past couple years, we allowed ourselves to become accustomed to less and less times such as those, and we became satisfied with occasional exchanges while passing on a street or in a hallway. My last encounter with Jason was during a break in our church service. I had seen that Jason was home and had made it to church, so I rushed back to give him a hug (something that we never failed to do as ongoing friends) and let him know about the love of my life (whom I would propose to only months later). Good intentions gave way to missed conversations and we let each other get away without moving any deeper in our initial exchange. I have carried with me since that morning the hope that I would one day get to introduce him to my new bride. I have carried with me since that day the hope that we would one day get to catch each other up on all that was happening in our lives. But I remained far too neutral about seeing such hopes be fulfilled, and death has silenced them all by stealing away my friend.

In my heart, I know that we were once close. But I now carry with me one question; "Were we alright?" Was everything okay between the two of us? Truth be told, I did not always know exactly what to do with Jason. He was a man who never settled for pat answers, and he drew life and passion from delving deeper into every mystery that stood before him. He was talented and often allowed his capacities to serve as an encouragement and inspiration to me. But I never had him figured out, partially because he always held his cards close to his chest, and partially because I struggled with my own insecurities. But there are incredible memories that I carry with me of adventures that he invited me into, whether it was giving the gift of a dry ice bomb at two in the morning to our pastor, or me giving him a lift ten feet up into the classroom through the narrow window, only to watch him fall hands first (one of which were stitched up) to the floor. Watching him run to disarm the alarm, only to be caught by the ringing sounds that woke up the entire moshav, was just one of the handful of memories that I have to remember my friend by.

Now? Now I live with the sense that I both miss him dearly and am saddened by the fact that I never did anything to continue on while he was still alive. But as happens in all of our lives, we remain in fellowship with those whom we share a common path with, and Jason's and my path was only for a while. My eyes are now opened to the fact that my friend gave his life away for a cause that he saw as great, as worth defending, as worth laying his life down for, if and when the cause called for it. But I never once believed that the cause would ever call for the sacrifice of a life such as his. He and so many others (friends and family) had not too distant futures to be shared for years to come. And the deepest pain that still lingers in my soul is that we will never get to share what we had been planning for for so long. The years of our youth were spent dreaming of how we were going to change the world, years filled with days of constantly pointing each other towards the same goal in the hopes that we both would remain awake and alive. But with his death, I cannot help but feel like one of the greatest stories ever told to me came without the sort of climactic ending that I had been anticipating. Chapters and chapters both written and revealed to me, to us both... only to have the story come to an abrupt stop when I first heard of the tragedy. My heart is still breaking at the reality of one less happy ending.

Our friend, our son, our brother, and the love of our life; he has been stolen from us, even when we least expected it. The questions that we knew he carried with him were seemingly never answered, though he and the Father know far better of the conversations that took place in his final days. What sense are we to make of the loss of a friend at such a young age? No sense... only the conviction that not everything is as it seems right here and right now. We have little to no answers, and yet are still invited into our own continuing journeys, with the divine hope that we will remain open to His hands and veiled intentions. He is good, even when His divine providence feels like a sucker punch to the stomach. Does He owe us any answers? Yes and no. Does He want us to know? I am not so sure, from where I stand right now. But He is definitely up to something. And I know that He longs to bless us, as He did throughout the 29 years of Jason's life. So we mourn the years that we thought would be ours, as well as rejoice with the years that were given to us (as fast as they seemed to come at us). I will miss my friend for as long as I walk the same earth that his feet once trodden. I am proud to say that I was a friend of his, for I am deeply proud of him! Some days will be harder than others. Unfortunately, this feels like the first of many to come. May God grant us the strength to continue on amidst pain and confusion, the eyes to see how life ought to be lived (to the fullest, as Jason sought to live it), and the enduring hope of being reunited with those who share our faith in the Father - a faith that He alone sustains!