.: at the cross :.

The worship team at our church showed this video some time ago as a way of opening our service. It's message is a powerful reminder of what it means to join together as the Body of Christ and proclaim the praises and worthiness of our Lord and Savior!

.: crazy :.

"If believing in life after death makes one crazy, than I am crazy... I believe there is a God... I believe there is a God and this God is very big, and very powerful, and very wise, and very good, and wonderfully creative. I believe this God is a living God, a personal God who wants to know us and wants us to know Him. I believe this God made the universe, and that He takes special delight in the planet called Earth. I believe this God made us humans to enjoy Him, to be in His image, to enjoy creation, and to partner with Him in caring for the Earth... I believe this God made us for relationships, with the Earth, with others, with the self, and with God. The first humans, Adam and Eve, decided they did not want to live in this relational harmony. They did not want to live in dependence upon God (that is what the Bible calls sin...). And so they struck out on their own to be their own god. This decision resulted in the breakdown of the relationships for which we were created, a breakdown in the relationship with the Earth, a breakdown in the relationship with others (need I illustrate...?), a breakdown in the relationship with the self, and a breakdown in the relationship with God. But this God did not give up on us. This God really means for us to experience relational wholeness, so this God comes after us. This God comes all the way down after us. I mean all the way down. He became one of us. This God became a human. God became a man... And this God took the name Jesus, which means 'God saves' or 'God to the rescue'. Jesus lived human life the way it was supposed to be lived. He lived dependant on the Father. He taught. He healed. He forgave sins. He welcomed all kinds of different people into His company. That is, Jesus loves us. He loves us rebels, so much that He then gave Himself over to death to pay the price for our sin so that we could live again in relationship with God. He was crucified, a horrible death. But death could not keep Him down. On the third day, He rose from the grave. Crazy, huh? He was resurrected, never to die again. And now He is the head and progenitor of a whole new human race. Jesus is alive and He sits on the throne of the universe. There is a headquarters. There is a control room. And Jesus is there as Lord. And one day, He is going to come back to earth, and He is going to bring with Him a whole new creation, a new heaven and a new earth, where there will no longer be any sin, any war, any death." -Darrell Johnson

.: just thought you should know :.

If somewhere along the way I have gotten something wrong, please forgive me. I have allowed you to view my life from a distance, though you probably believe that you have me figured out by now. Needless to say, I have been honest all along the way - mostly through the Spirit, but too often times from the flesh. I have often chosen to let it all out rather than holding my tongue, and for all the places where you were offended, I offer my deepest apologies. I know that not everything that comes to mind is fit for print. But I have sought to live with both candor and integrity, offering glimpses into my own journey all along the way. Looking back, I easily could have overstepped my bounds and not let you into the joy that so often followed the pain. I indeed would hate for my words to point to anything other than the Spirit's work within me, and then through me. I guess in a way I never thought that it would come this far. And amidst my considering of all that I have offered to you, there are parts that I wish that I could erase, or better yet convince myself that they never came to the surface. But here and now, I confess that I am a sinner saved by grace, a soul in conversion from "life in hiding" to "a life so truly set free". I would hope that we all remember that even the poets of Scriptures shot from the hip and gave voice to their anguish and confusion. So I guess that is what I am aiming at here, to remind you that it was never my hope to only offer what is sound and true. And in part, I may have been hoping for something that was never truly possible - to let you hear my heart apart from the life from which it arises. You may want to know me, but you never could apart from being obligated to also consider the greater context of my life. I never claimed to have it all right, and I certainly would hope that you haven't as well. We are all in process, all living smack-dab in the midst of a human growing faith in, and understanding of, the Divine. So in most of the places where most others would have waited to have it all figured out before they offered their so-called "position", I have laid it out with the expectation that you would take my words at face value. That being said, I must admit that it has to be pretty easy for some of us to be overly critical of a soul that has made the effort to know and be known, all the while holding back so that he or she might guard themselves against the kinds of criticism that they now choose to let loose. I guess that is the price that I must pay for taking a chance by letting you get to know me. I pray that we all might be merciful when it comes to summing up a life according to the handful of thoughts and images that we take hold of. And may the Father call us back to trusting first and foremost in Him, rather than taking our cues from those we share in this life with.

.: james 3 :.

This is a short film by "Desiring God"

"From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so." James 3:10

.: something to offer :.

There is something that fails within me when I am called to remain patient. Having prepared for this for the better part of a lifetime, I cannot bear days such as these that seem to carry no significance at all. As the adage goes, if something is going to happen, I need for it to happen now. Or so it seems when I am faced with no end in sight. My heart has nothing to live for, nothing that I can put my hands and head to, and nothing to pour myself into. I have meaning and I can prove the weight of my substance, if only someone would take a chance on me. All this preparation and now not a single thing that beckons me to get involved. Everyone walking around with some sort of mission. But I am constantly haunted by the possibility that everyone but me knows this will never work out. I certainly can make things happen, if that is what is called for here and now. But even the ones that I thought might come looking cheer me on as they blaze their own paths. How frustrating it becomes when I sense that nothing will come of the letters that I have sent off into the realm of possibilities! Everyone is off doing what they love, and I am left to keep rehearsing what has been revealed to me. And maybe, just maybe, I have it all wrong. But all I can say is when the chance comes to invite others into action, to invest in another soul, I am going to do all I can to facilitate in their coming to life. That being said, the Creator has a plan, though He so often seems so slow to bring it about. But He has proven time and again that His timing goes far beyond each and every way that we have laid out the week before us. It will happen, My son; all in good time... in My time, according to My arrangement. It is just that I feel like I am losing any sort of advantage that I had when I first set out to use my gifts. But maybe that is the plan after all.

.: undone by the call :.

I am starting to see how our very calling as followers of Christ undoes everything we might hope to accomplish in our flesh. If I am to imitate His example, how can I also carry the weight of making a name for myself? If I am to soften my heart towards the weak, how can I maintain the kind of rough exterior it requires to "make it in the real world"? And if I truly see this world as my home, how can I keep my eyes upon the eternal kingdom that awaits me? I guess what I am trying to say is that all my hopes of being something big are slowly being unraveled by the call to remain small and low. In those moments when I begin to pull away from the community of faithfulness, and I use any sort of advantage I may have at the time over another soul, I am seeking to undo (as it this were even possible) the very work that the Father wants to accomplish in and through all of creation. How can I remain a vessel for divine compassion and Christ-like tenderness when I am force-feeding a different strand of work in my life? Time and again I am captured by the beauty of idea of making myself nothing. The kind of obedience that I want to demonstrate has nothing to do with the various ways in which I use the random minutes of each day to scratch a particular itch of my fallen nature. And rather than throwing myself upon His grace, I blaze a path that takes me nowhere in an arbitrary collage of words and actions. I hate those days when I have let myself get away with throwing together a plan with me at the center and then carelessly making it my new ambition. Fresh and new have been enemies of mine at the most unexpected times. And the thought of being genuine has left nothing but a scattered mess of memories from a time in which eternity was the last thing on my mind. I grieve far too little for the times when I have exalted myself under the banner of doing a work that belongs primarily to the Spirit. And in those choice moments when I could have chosen to serve another, I only choose to serve myself. I am so far from what I was hoping to be. But am I anywhere close to where He longs for me to abide? I wish I had this sort of clarity about releasing my own baggage so that I can lift the load of my brother or sister. But I am arriving at the conclusion that real love doesn't bring with it a parade or spotlight, for simple obedience fills it with enough passion to carry it throughout the day. And this life was never meant to end in the belief that we ended up right where we always wanted to be. So with my own plans out of the way, I can now begin to work towards the benefit of another. But how do I carry this ambition with me, if it is not the voice of the Lord that I am pushing everything else aside to hear so clearly? He is teaching me to see how risking it all for the ambitions of one falls so short of working towards the deepening of so some many more. To serve and to be poured out so that He might see His will fulfilled. That in and of itself has far more beauty and fervor to it than days filled with making something of myself. This idea of building myself up so I can reap the rewards of being that one sought out is coming up empty right before my eyes. So I would be a fool to not work in such a way that I might catch even a glimpse of His kingdom coming to life in my own lifetime. For His love is stronger than every mistake that I can come up with, and it is moving forward whether I choose to follow His leading or not.

.: holding out for hope :.

This morning we talked. Better yet, this morning I decided to listen for once. In the midst of a transition, I found some silence in which to enter into a conversation, as one-sided as it seemed at the time. I wish this were more the habit than the exception. But rather than scold myself, I remained where I was before Him. My first movement was to confess the weight that I have been bearing, as well as fight back some unrealized emotions. I laid out my fears and frustrations in the hopes that He was listening clearly. I asked what I have been dying to know, with no quick responses in return. I owned up to some of the fleshly realities that have been dogging my heels for years and years. I confessed my apprehension and timidity, asking what exactly it is He thinks He is doing. And if there were any new truths that I stumbled across this morning, it was that He can use even me, that I am a deeply relational being, and that I have every reason to be concerned and no reason at all. So there I sat in the silence, with little to no motion. It has been far too long since I placed myself before Him with nowhere to be for a while. It felt good. It felt real. And it felt both disappointing and liberating that I have been reminded of such an event that I can so easily return to, given that I desire to do so from here on out. In those moments, I was reminded of all my unsatisfied promises and well-intentioned agreements. I recalled that I am being called to lead people into the very things that are still so new and undiscovered to me as well. And I was instilled with a fresh sense of hope, that I will be what I have been called to be in so far as I place myself where I need to, when I need to. You may not realize how being exposed in that space makes me want to hide. It makes me want to clean up my tracks and fill in the gaps lest someone misconstrue what I have felt the freedom to partake in. But with that comes the sense that I long to be a part of a community where both followers and leaders are genuine souls with genuine lives that are genuinely messy. Notice that I have not made provision for the flesh, for I do not want to do so many of the things that by my very human nature I choose to say and do. But how can I offer a real heart to both God and man without being governed by the fear that something I say or do may be taken out of context or used to discredit me in any way? I guess that I am forced to realize any sort of control over such things. But with that comes the sense that if I am who I am called to be (though I still struggle with being convinced that I can do that apart from His mercy and provision), I will end up being led to where I both need and desire to be. But this morning's words brought no sort of guarantee that I will get everything simply handed to me. Yes indeed, there will be some sort of work and effort demanded of me if I am to reach my goal. But by placing myself in His hands, I have the luxury of knowing that I can rest easy in His loving embrace, the very hold that demands faith and instills hope and love. By placing myself in His hands, I allow myself to be more fully equipped for serving others so that ultimately the body of Christ might be built up and strengthened. But that requires the sort of obedience that springs out of waiting and listening, far before running forward and doing.

.: the weight of a loss :.

Never have I lost a friend so close to my heart as the day that I lost my friend, Jason Kessler. A year has now passed and not a week has gone by where I have not been haunted by either fragments of our past or the bitter recollection of his present absence. I must confess that the first time that I met him, he carried himself like a rebel. Funny enough, he never quite escaped that mental image in my mind, much to his own intentionality. He had a way about him that seemed to never allow himself to fade into the background. If there was a cause that he saw as worthy, he was the first to lead the charge. He was addicted to chivalry in a way that was contagious. He made me want to discover what it meant to truly live, to be a man above all other men, and to love boldly. We would spend hours together trying to find deeper ways of breaking through the facade of growing older. He made me want to stop pretending, if in any way I was doing so. He taught me what it meant to defend the weak in any and every way. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I used to get so frustrated with him for constantly pushing me to be someone better than I already was. But as the years have past, I have begun to understand why he urged such feelings in me. He never seemed to be the sort of man that was satisfied with who he was, never fully satisfied with what he had already done. There was always something better to invest in, and someone within to discover amidst the day-to-day living. Even when he felt like he had nothing more to give, he refused to let up on himself. He knew what it required to be someone great, and he refused to waste his life on anything less than that. What I once saw as criticism, I now see as his wanting me to live out the full potential of who I am. He was a man that was determined to discover genuine love, genuine relationships, and a genuine life. His was a life in progress. No question was ever off the table with a guy like him, in terms of seeking to wrestle with the fullness of what it meant in either its accuracy or deception. He was authentic through and through, which so many found tremendously threatening, and others tremendously liberating. And this is the soul that we lost when we lost Jason.

So often we talked about the end, but never did I truly believe that I would experience a life further than his own. He had a way of allowing me to escape from the weight of life so that I could then continue on in the fight before me. The times in which we shared life together will forever serve as the photographs within my heart that have played since the day he was stolen from us. He was both a model and a flawed creature. I loved him as a brother, and yet so often wrestled with what made him seem so exceptional. He was the first to admit an error and the last to bear his weaknesses. Nevertheless I cannot help but feel that too much time was spent on deep discussions concerning the very things that have all changed by now. But who knew it would all turn out like this? I know we so often confess to the assuming belief that we will have someone in our life forever. But never once did I think that to ever be untrue of Jason. I grieve how the most recent years brought fewer connections with my friend, but how could I have ever guessed that they would come to an unexpected close. We had possibly thought that there were more chapters to write together, but the book has now been deemed to remain incomplete. No human relationship is without mistakes and sinful assumptions, but ours was one that held some kind of common ground beyond our different directions. We were both souls caught up in the quest of learning how to live alive. He was the type to follow up a wrestling match with a sincere hug. In many ways, he was a man's man, all the while searching for ways to break such a stereotype, or better yet, to help refashion it into the noble calling that it once held. Never have such words fallen short when I admit that I am going to miss him now that he is gone. Even with this past year serving me a variety of chances to continue on in a life absent of his words and compassion, only now am I coming to the reality that the grave was never a reality that we ever grow used to. Never once did I ever face even the slightest suggestion that I would live so few years before suffering such a loss. Jason was a man who taught me how to give more than I take, to lay my life down for the beauty of another. Deep was his mercy for those that knew of no compassion. Wide was his understanding of the weightier beliefs that have stood the test of time. And rich was his laugh, an event that I know now I took for granted for far too long. He taught me how to honor a soul above my own, and in that one act, he showed me the liberation of being set free from what has cost so many so much.

I miss you, Jason! Nothing has allowed me to ever forget all that we discovered along the way together (not that I have wanted to). Those simple pieces of life make up the very memories that only now stir such grief and sadness within me. Thank you for the gift that was continually given me by you through every blessed encounter, every late night conversation, and every shared connection!

.: throwing in the towel :.

There seems to be no room in my life right now to quit. Everything that I have been working on has been a "working towards". This is all going to mean something greater than just the routine chores before me. My rehearsals and memorizations have been preparing me for the next step. But where is there any sort of place in me to take advantage of any sort of out? How might I go about calling this whole thing off and finding a pause within which I can readjust? The world isn't exactly begging me to take it easy... or is it? Somehow everyone took an extra step while I happened to be glancing away. And now what lies before me feels threatening, and may intend to expose me for what little remains. I guess that it is just the ever-growing weight on my shoulders that seems at times to be too much to bear. If I could only cut away from these little things that are filling up the space of each day, maybe then I could find a way to fix this condition of fear, which is feeding upon my apathy. No thanks to you all, I have been busily working away at trying to make the world a better place, one soul at a time. I do not make that previous jab because I am left alone in this. More so, I feel like I have been far too guilty of taking my cues from a world in love with its strenuous work ethic. All one needs to do is just close their eyes and allow themselves to dwell upon the ways that we have driven ourselves so merciless in the past. A little hard work never killed anyone, or so they have claimed all along. But let me be the first to express that I cannot take one more burden of existence, no matter how crucial you swear it to be. My life has been thrown between scores of souls that have staked their claim upon one way of living and one mode of thinking. And wouldn't you know it, no one seems to agree with each other any more (as if they ever did). I wish that I could say that these past few years have produced in me some kind of intelligence. All they really have done is filled me with more questions, along with the sense that I may not even remember what had been cleared up for me along the way. Am I playing small or possibly shying away from being known? Who is to say? All I know is that when I cross that stage and receive what I have worked long and hard for, there is no reason for me to believe that I am any further along the path towards being able to help others in the same direction. And what is to even be said for those seemingly dead set against the whole thing to begin with? What do I have to offer them, in terms of a well-crafted argument or refined skills of refutation? This whole thing could drive a soul mad; trust me, it is doing that very thing right now! So I guess that I am resolved to be one of the lone voices claiming that we must confess what we know, and be honest with that which we do not. No one soul holds the keys to all the questions, though some may claim to hold more than others (myself included). I certainly know where to look, where to point, and possibly how to pursue it. But my memory only serves me in retaining the basics, with a certain awareness of where we go from there. I have been taught to be unsatisfied with such. But I no longer see how I can hold both of these in comfortable tension, the knowledge of that which I am not more fully aware of, alongside of the deep contentment of knowing who I am and what I have to offer.

.: all i cannot seem to say :.

I want the Spirit to have His way, first in me and then through me. I want to find that this life that I am entering into is actually becoming the reality and less of an ambition. I want the things of this world to pale in comparison to the glorious beauty of God's goodness. I want every day to be lived with the reminder that I am in Christ. I want the words of my mouth to bless those that I once used to use as a punch line. I want a joy that will sustain me through the darkness. I want the pressures of my life to expose me to all the philosophical idols that I live by. I want His name to be the first and last thing on my mind throughout all my conversations. I want to turn to Him before I end up running out of other places to run to. I want to know that He is listening closely to my heart as I pour it out to Him. I want to learn what it means to die daily. I want to be ready to die before that day comes. I want for there to be no words left unsaid when I am gone. I want to see healing in all my fractured relationships. I want to feel the Lord's compassion in the midst of being completely overwhelmed. I want to know right here and now that this will all work out for His good. I want to know why I really thought those things would satisfy me to begin with. I want to feel the full weight of my helpless human state. I want to acknowledge that my God is the same God of Moses, David, Peter, and Paul. I want to know more fully the God that I am dealing and wrestling with. I want to get to the real meaning of the various stories of Scripture. I want to speak as they spoke. I want to see His return in my lifetime. I want to eradicate every motive I have for making God my inferior. I want a fresh sense of the Father's readiness to forgive His loved ones. I want to know that He is indeed not indifferent towards our circumstances. I want to bear the full expectation of a divine response. I want to feel how I want to feel. I want to know what a truly godly life looks like. I want to find myself in that place and remain there. I want His hands to draw together all my divided interests. I want to be sincere and genuine, and not just real. I want the first words of each day to acknowledge what the Father He has already done for me. I want to see that this isolation is just not working for me. I want to learn to give up my comfort for far greater things. I want to share in the sufferings of Christ so that it might change how I see the world. I want my ever-changing situation to no longer dictate my perception of the character of God. I want to be released from the burden of my ever-growing bitterness and resentment. I want to truly believe that God is good in the midst of my frustration and weariness. I want to be comforted by the fact that God cares. I want to sense the Father's presence at the center of my pain. I want to quit hurting those that I love. But over all these things, I want to quit hiding behind the facade of an upright and moral life, and I want to enter more fully into what it means to take up my cross and follow Christ.

.: not today :.

I think that today I would just like to be left alone. I do not want to hear of another soul's joy. I cannot bear the weight of another soul's complaint. Today I would simply like to ball up inside and live this existence by myself. I do not think that I could cope with one more person's happiness, though I do not feel any sort of sadness that would resist such an emotion. It is just that I feel far too broken to have my life filled with anyone other than me. Maybe it is a case of the "blahs". Maybe it is me being bested by my selfish pride. But there is something deep within me that wants to begin a spring-cleaning of my soul, pushing everyone away that has a story to tell. Can I find the words to say it; I just do not care! No, actually it is that I just do not care right now. That's great that your life is so simply wonderful. But it just seems that I have far too much going on right now to have the perfect set of ears to hear. I cannot face one more group of people that have it all figured out. So I disconnect from my past. I disconnect from my future. I disconnect from everything that is going on all around me. And with one loud resounding cry, I proclaim my dissatisfaction with everything and everyone. Out go the humble, out go the emotionally needy, and out go the self-righteously pure of heart. I cannot take it anymore. Away with your diagnosis, even you souls that sit this very minute trying to make sense of these inward expressions. Do not try and make sense of my desires to bend my world into something far more manageable and suitable. No worries, for my joy will soon return. But it escapes me at moments such as these when I am begging for some sort of release from my social obligation to you. I do not have the perfect words for your reckless questions. I fear that I just will not be able to deal with it all today, at least for the time being. And though my eyes drift upon the images of a life at its best, nothing but the worst seems to be consuming my hopes of staying connected with you. It is not a case of my life being worse than yours. It is just that I cannot seem to find what it takes to keep up with this foolish exchanging of days and years. Yes, I truly am happy for you. But those actual words will have to wait for now - I am just not in a place where I can utter them. I guess all I can ask for is that you bear with me as I stumble through this reconciliation of my heart and my head. But do not expect that I can appease you while I am in this state of mind. There are parts of me that seem to have disconnected from the rest of me. And a disconnected creature cannot help but disconnect from the communities all around, even from those that look to him for any sort of reason or action.

.: somewhat unbearable :.

If you love me, then why did you let me go? If you care so much for me, why did you turn away? Where were you in the moments of my greatest need? When I sought an answer, I got everything but a response. Never has it been so clear to me that you have no obligation to never leave me exposed. And now your movements have succeeded in only leaving me numb. I feel a sadness that wrenches away all hopes of sharing in another soul's joy. Was the pain that I felt in those hours enough to accomplish what you were hoping for? I was nothing short of completely foolish to ever think that I was untouchable. I had no doubt that both good and unpleasant have their place in the lives of those that follow and those that do not. But in times like there, I am only left wondering if I truly do stand where I have staked my claim so many times before. These are the days that consume the barricades of my heart and soul, melting away anything that does not have some sort of substance to it. And I have kept myself quiet long enough, or so I think, long enough for you to make your presence felt. But I fear you may have come and gone in the time that it took me to gather my thoughts and give credit where credit was due. Is there any way that you could speed things up, maybe allow the time that you hold within your hands to heal all my gapping wounds? Oh me of little faith, but I could have sworn that you said that you would be with me through it all, giving me nothing that would push me beyond my limits. This right here feels pretty deafening. Hard or soft, my heart may never be the same past this line on the floor. All the elements of life and death have served in volleying me between hope and discomfort. And I repent of taking anything and everything for granted. Shame on me for believing that I could trust in the One that holds my life to not expose me to that which purifies beyond recognition. I mean, can I really ever get my hopes up again? Or should I let disappointment guide my every mixed emotion? There is little to no honor in these words, but they come from a soul that is learning to rebuild a life one piece at a time. Far below them are attempts to know for certain if this is a sign of things to come. Have all these glances towards glory been to prepare me for when the rug would be completely pulled out from under me? Or has it been to make known all the doubts and dismissals that I have swept under it? I pray that what this has cost me is worth it in the end, for I would hate to think that you are in the business of overdoing it to simply prove your point.

.: the passing of a blessing :.

I found myself in the middle of a divine appointment today. A lunchtime call sent us up to the hospital, thinking that we would be speaking our final words to a passing friend. But when we got there, word came back that he had already gone. Never have I ever walked into the kind of setting that I found myself in today, surrounded by friends and family impacted by the loss of a loved one. There he was, a soul that said so much to everyone without saying a single word. He was a man who made me long to end my life in the sort of place that I saw him living in. He lived in a place of incredible contentment and selflessness. His life spelled out for everyone he knew what it meant to live with grace and compassion. There are very few people who have laid their lives and ambitions down for my own sake, but he was certainly one of them. He showed us that life was best when it was shared. And there he was, a soul that had fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith (2 Tim 4:7). A number of times, I found myself looking at his life and longing to be where he was years from now. Rarely did he ever allow the conversation to remain on him, always shifting the spotlight to my own life and situation. Even towards the end as he faced incredible personal pain, he never missed the chance to show how deeply he cared for me. I must admit, I was not ready for that moment when goodbyes could no longer be spoken face-to-face. Now all I can do is weep and rejoice, broken by his passing and lifted by his finally being released from the suffering found in his earthly body. I will miss him more than anything, for his was a life that gave life to everyone around him. He knew what it meant to give himself away. He spoke love and hope to me in every encounter. He cared himself as a man who deeply loved Christ, and longed to honor Him in any and every way. He proved that he was willing to pay the price to be used by the Father, investing in lives that continue beyond his own. He possessed such a resonating joy and contagious delight. He had a way of helping others realize what the Father has in store for those who abandon themselves to His control. And by His grace, I will never forget the example set by this man who was so devoted to the loving heart of our Heavenly Father. I rejoice on such a sad day, for this is the day that he receives his eternal reward for a life well-lived. We were truly blessed to have him with us!

.: the world at our feet :.

I guessed we have all grown up by now. It did not take as long as we might have thought. And yet we wonder where all the time has gone from then until now. We are not the same as we once were, as hard as we fought to hold onto our roots. The view is different from all the way up here on our soap boxes, touting the virtues that we have learned to market ourselves with. Our paths have strayed for a time, only to bring us back together at the least critical time possible. And it is not only us that have changed along the way, but those onlookers that sought to shape our very nature. Our heroes are now mortals. Our closest friends are now tales told across tabletops. Gone are those that we thought we would have with us for years to come. Adventures have been exchanged for the meeting of heaped-up expectations. It is as if age and distance have caused everything in our worlds to grow silent. Our dreams only appear here and there, reminding us of how tall we once stood before them all. The excitement has dulled and we have learned to run the race as those before us. The years now afford us the opportunity to laugh at ourselves, only this time removed from the pain that seemed to endure for so long. Here and now, our stories become far more common than they were before. In every happenstance meeting, we run through the lists of "done" and "will do", since there seems nothing better to do than just live. We have come full circle, seeing each other now for who we ended up turning out to be. And judge or compare, we all now bear a strength that has been taught us in ways too deep to demonstrate. We must admit, we truly do love it here! The masks have finally come off, though we do now don these new ones. But there is a sweet release in knowing that we made it through everything that threatened our very existence as those that wanted to change the world (or at least the piece of it in which we lived). Yes, the rules have all changed. And at this point, we must now turn our hearts back to the truths that have managed to slip through our fingers along the way. We can be who we are in this very moment and be enjoyed for what we have to offer one another, even rejoice for those that finally got a hold of what they fought so hard to have. We stop and take in all the realities that make up these lives that we could only hope for in the past. So this is what it feels like to finally be here! I must admit, part of me deeply grieves over the fact that it is here and no longer far into the future. There was something special about being able to paint our stories with colors far brighter than the ones that shade our day-to-day. But then again, there are elements of each day that we find ourselves in that are made up of the moments that we never thought were possible. The stories told of our childhood now setup the unfolding of the years beyond. There is more to reminisce, there is more to forget, and there is more to lament over our loss of. Here and now, we can finally be happy for each other. We made it through the thick and thin, through all that we feared and every occasion that we tried not to face, and we refuse to go back.

.: the elaboration of our finiteness :.

The hope of any interaction that might take place between you and I is not just authenticity for its own sake ("I say who I am and that is enough?'). Rather it is so that our hearts and lives might lay exposed before the Gospel that implicates us all, and liberates those that come. We do not put everything on the table so that we can either feel better or worse about ourselves, but it is so that God might be seen more clearly amidst our situation, whatever the case may be personally. We ought not gather together so that we can know more about each other, but ultimately so that we might know more about Christ and be encouraged to know Him at even deeper levels. You see, there is a great difference between "being honest" so that we might wear the badge versus being honest about who we are so that we see our great need for a Savior. The journey of unwrapping the layers of our lives hopefully arrives at a place far beyond just being able to say that we are genuine creatures. We ought to be far more concerned with arriving at a place where we are closer to the heart of the Father Himself. All that to say, my story is insignificant apart from the reality of Christ's work in and through me. If my goal is to simply subtly elevate myself through public defamation, I cannot help but think that we have missed the point of gathering as fellow members of the Body. The parts must soon give glory to the head lest they believe themselves to be independent of Him completely. No doubt you and I have all experienced those occasions where we are called to be more truthful, only to feel that much emptier because of our selfishly inward bent and focus. Each moment of time holds the possibility of being released. But that cannot happen until we see the heart of the Christian life beyond our own experience of it, though it is not as if it does not concern it whatsoever. The Spirit has been at work in my life far longer than I have had the hope of making sense of it all. So when I leave it at that, the victory of the Cross remains untold in and through me. It is almost as if we fail to see God and His work as significant in our lives, all the while remaining content to fill our time with each self-effacing motion. The goal of our salvation is not our being repeatedly trampled down, but His being continually lifted up before us all. My moving deeper is only begun so that I might soon move outward and upward. At the heart of us all are conversations between the Spirit and our own, most of which revolve around our passions and fears. But the telling of those elements is only one part of it all. Realness does not end with our gut-wrenching "oneupmanship", all in the quest to see who has a more sordid past. Realness begins and ends with our rejoicing in things no longer being as they used to be. We cannot see ourselves clearly until we see Christ for who He is. And we cannot see Christ clearly until we see the bit parts that we play in the larger story of history and eternity. He is not just Savior just to us individually, but communally as well, as far as the ends of the earth. So to disarm self through giving up the facade of our makeshift existence only proves beneficial when we then enter into the fullness of our lives in Christ. It is not so much about our coming to Him as it is about His glorious coming to us in the moment of our greatest need, the event of His greatest sacrifice. The bearing of our souls with one other must culminate in its bringing to light every way in which we find our design fulfilled by its Creator. Everything else is simply aimless chatter about our shortcomings, as if that is still our state of being; apart from Him. For we are those that know so much better, and are known far better than we might admit.

.: ran the race :.

Yesterday my wife and I had the privledge of running in the St. Patrick's Day Dash in downtown Seattle. We were two of the 15,500 people that showed up for the event, all of which made for a beautiful "sea of green". The 5K (3.5+ miles) fun run began at the Seattle Center and stretched all the way to Safeco Field. It was a blast being able to run down streets that we normally would only be able to drive on. Our favorite parts of the race included the Battery Street tunnel (where a number of runners/walkers were scribbling their names into the dirty walls), as well as all along the Alaskan Way Viaduct. Despite my throbbing ankle, which had been aching for most of the week leading up, we finished the race in 46:20. We both can say that we ran for most of the race (at least 80%), outside of the hills that we used to catch our breath by walking. This run will stick with me for some time as an example of the need for encouragement at times in our lives. Kelly is the reason for why we finished the race as well as we did, at least from my perspective. Her promptings kept me going, even when my tendons were screaming and my feet had gone numb. But there is nothing like coming around that corner on Royal Brougham Way and seeing the finishline in the distance. My mind shifted from begging my body to stop running to suddenly shouting to keep moving as fast as I could. In fact, I seemed to move even faster once I saw all the freebies they were giving away just beyond the end. What a wonderful adventure for both Kelly and I to have taken part in! We are looking forward to doing more of these kinds of runs, as well as taking part in larger races in different parts of the Northwest.

.: hard to behold :.

I have been caught up by the wonder of all these pretty little things. These days, I find myself wandering from town to town - a place where I can find safety and comfort. Every time it plants that unsettling seed within my heart, I am moved to try and do nothing at all. But it is not like I have been dying all these years, simply growing satisfied with who I am and where I belong. Nevertheless these things keep coming to me. Their effect cannot help but be that much further behind. I would prefer that they move along. Maybe find another soul to antagonize. All around me, there stand the graves of souls that were probably just as weary. Do they really have nothing better to do than to steal these precious moments from me? They come at a time when I cannot collect my thoughts. Where do I find the courage to take my stand, or at the very least plan my escape? Did they plan to move in as subtly as they did? There is a beauty far beyond it all, if only I can see this for what it truly is. I fear that I have misplaced the notion that the most dangerous cries are those that come as softly as these. Just behind the paradise that they offer lies a trap waiting for me to throw myself upon. But could I really pull it off? Or is all this simply the reflections of the hope that I am still a person of substance? These trials come in pairs. But it scares me how I almost recklessly thirst for them, as if they make all the difference. I would love to make a clean break from what lies before me, so that I could be salvation to even ones such as these. But it truly is not that simple. My hands are stained by the foolish pride that pushes me to continue forward. Soul, listen closely... there is nothing for you here!

.: unrequited :.

One broke my heart.
One could not make up her mind.
One was more concerned with appearances.
One did not share my beliefs.
One thought that we would be best to keep things simple.
One played coy as if there was nothing going on.
One let me hang myself on my own words.
One missed my heart by a million miles.
One was too nervous to ask.
One staked her claim on a maybe.
One simply wasted my time.
One stole time from me.
One was not ready to fall.
One made me wish that I was not so brave.
One refused to ever be tied down.
One hid behind the facade of virtue.
One was too afraid of losing it all.
One saw it as a subtle compromise.
One turned down the chance to believe in me.
One did not think that it was a good idea.
One could not bear the weight.
One buried me in my own regrets.
One just did not feel like it any more.
One behaved like a child.
One lied when she said that this was forever.
One was thrown off by what it possibly suggested.
One quietly backed away.
One quickly ran away.
One was drawn by the fun and games.
One kept us from any and all clarity.
One could not see beyond the surface.
One claimed to be the genuine article.
One was caught up in the eyes of another.
One simply could not find the words.
One taught me to mistrust love.
One hid herself behind all of the tears.
One was caught off guard.
One had a lousy sense of timing.
One could not find the strength to say what she needed to say.
One was too weak and simply let go.
Than one more came, one that I was not prepared for.
Than one more came, one that I had foolishly overlooked and taken for granted.
Than one more came, one that responded amidst a world of fear and silence.
Than one more came... and turned my world upside down.
Than right side back up, the way that things were meant to be.

.: weakness in numbers :.

For years I have been someone who found comfort in the company of those that thought like me. Today I want to be someone that any soul could bear itself to. The past is filled with days of rubbing shoulders with those that stood in the very places that I longed to be. But today I wake to find myself wrestling with the desire to remain in the place where all can come. My fears have been motivated by not having the right answers, but today I choose to no longer hold so tightly onto the thought that the truth could fit in the grip of one man. For good reason or for nothing at all, I have resisted walking the paths that might confront me with the very things that unsettle my reassurance. I guess that it has only succeeded in making me that much more unsure of the validity of all such supposed righteousness. So as for today, I will stay here with those that leave me with little to say. I will stand with those that I have been taught to resist. And though we are not the same, we are not as different as I once thought. Where was it that a human being forgot how to treat another humanly? Grace has been the last thing on our hearts and minds for far too long. When will I finally come to the place of resigning myself to being who I truly am? When will I no longer expect anything better than the best that I have to give? As it was once said, it is hard to put down the whip that we have driven ourselves with for so long. Maybe it all begins with forgiving ourselves for failing anyone at all. But I want with all my soul to leave this place of thinking that my feet will never find solid ground amidst the need for greater faith. Heartless obedience is not for me to demand of another. All I can do is ask them to seek alongside of me, no longer looking for ways to fit in with all the rest. No question, I am who I am because of how the mercy of Christ has been granted to me. But I am not in a solitary position of having arrived, nor am I able to expect the salvation of others to not be in stark contrast to my own. Because of grace, I do not need to fear questions, any and all. But even more, my not having the necessary answer at any and every moment is not some sort of failure on my part. So I need not fear the company of all souls, the men and women that surround me with pain indescribable that has caused questions unfathomable. It is not as easy as it might seem to make out the reasons for avoiding certain people at times. But above and beyond the possibility of being shamed is the occasion to simply be who I am, to offer what I can, and to be open and honest about the very things that separate me from my Savior. I want to learn to move beyond the perception that I need someone to simply believe a set doctrine, with the hopes of being able to bear witness as one of so many souls that have been set free. That reality makes me no greater than the soul that remains in bondage, for grace cannot be afforded by even the noblest of efforts. I am simply in a place where I risk my reputation for something far less fragile. To remove myself from the fear of being proven wrong seems to have all kinds of liberating repercussions. Maybe my words can be used to move both them and me along even one step further in our journeys towards wholeness. And maybe they can be just words that are not ready to be received. But I long to be removed from the kinds of fears that play right into the hands of the Enemy who longs to prove all believers as nothing more than hopeless romantics of a makeshift primitive deity. In humble honesty, I can help another soul in process, as well as be helped by them in return. To love in tangible ways seems to move us beyond the danger that is so often found in mistaken assumptions about another person. But within that love must be the truth or it is simply fear refashioned as something other than its true identity. Therein lays the tension of being who we have been called to be as those in Christ, surrounded by those that reject everything that has to do with Him for some reason or another. Our hearts must remain committed to loving them rather than acting upon the impulse to promptly remove all their reasons and excuses.

.: resolved to reality :.

When it comes to the Christian faith, I seem to have the heart of a realist. My eyes are open to what lies ahead of me, and in each necessary moment, I tend to speak the truth. Somehow we have conceived the ideal believer as a person who moves beyond feeling and throws themselves into dutiful action. I, on the other hand, tend to stand back and give myself the needed time to investigate why my spirit is so resistant to that particular call. I have been raised by communities led by those that teach us to assume that it is just the right thing to do, and how it sits with me inside has little to nothing to do with our responsibility. They call us to disconnect from the alarms going off within us. But after all these years, each and every one of us has suffered for it. I have no doubt that life is far too precious to spend most of it sitting on the sidelines wondering if we really have what it takes. But it is also far too divine for us to disengage from what our hearts are telling us in every situation that we encounter. For every man that calls me to do what is commanded of me, my response is more often than not one of considering what that requires of me, matched with the search for absolute resolve to make that a dynamic of my vision and passion. Christ is crafty, is He not? He has a way of always meeting us right where we are. The stories of the Gospels record narratives about a man who seemed to have a fresh approach to every situation that He found Himself in. To the brokenhearted, He became a balm through words and actions. To the stubborn and insincere, His words cut like a knife through all the facades and got right to the heart of the issue at hand. Never did He raise His voice in a moment that did not clamor for it. Slow and methodical; only some of the fascinating dynamics of the Christ figure that we read about in the Scriptures. Not just someone who acted or reacted to the crisis before Him, but rather a soul that knew that to overreact might cost Him an opportunity that had been long in the making. That is why I long to be someone who takes the time to care. That is why I long to be someone who ponders the various elements before moving on incomplete plans or information. But even more so, this is a part of my foundation as an individual that so often sees a weakening heart beneath the outward shell of a person "sold out to God". I am content to leave the shouting to the leaders at the so-called front lines. For I am someone who longs to know another brother or sister for who they truly are, no matter how far they fall from the call to follow Him. I am committed to investing myself in the stories that are being written all around me to the extent that I am allowed to do so. And though others may not be, I am more than fine with calling things as they truly appear, even at the cost of being dead wrong at first glance. I long for deep honesty, the kind of integrity that desires to be truthful about where one is at, even if it costs them their reputation and granted respect. I want to be the sort of person that can brush aside what everyone else says about me, and can look clearly at where I am at in the process of being and becoming. I would far rather be in a place where I can call myself out than to rest in the accolades of witnesses that have no clue what lies beneath the surface. And I would far rather be in the sort of place where I am able to invite others out of hiding and into the kind of light that grants us freedom from the impressions that we feel forced to give. That is the frontline for me, the place where the Enemy most often seems to attack us, at the point of our greatest temptation and weakness. And by God's grace, that is where you will find me for years to come!