10.26.2009
I like coffee (reprised)
I am not addicted. I can function perfectly well without it. I can quit whenever I want! Oh.... sweet creamy bliss! How I miss you this morning! But NO. I got plenty of sleep and I I wn't give in. Se?e I cjn blog with perfect4 clarity wit OR without c... c... coffee.
10.25.2009
Goosebumps Christianity
We respectable evangelicals aren't comfortable with pentecostals and their "goosebumps Christianity". Sometimes is seems like they get so caught up in their transcendental experience of the Holy Spirit that they forget to be normal, decent human beings. They can seem strung-out on the Spirit, unstable, disorganized, unorthodox.
As my generation of evangelicals lashes back against the eastern mysticism of our post-modern peers, we try to take God out of the realms of mystery, and seat Him firmly in our midst. Reacting against dualism, we attempt to incorporate God into the mundane, the secular. Our prayer life loses all formality, our churches becomes spiritualized coffee shops (rather than grand cathedrals), and Eugene Peterson writes... The Message.
God's incarnation in our lives is our favorite new doctrine. And to a degree, this is GOOD! Loose the shackles of legalism and religiocracy! Find a God who is REAL, who is RELEVANT, who dwells among us. In college, I loved to meditate on the earthiness of God. I wrote a song that said:
All the liturgies in flight could not lose altitude
to find where You hang out: among the dirt, the grass, the roots.
Yet I was missing something. God is also bigger than me, higher than me, and still chalk-full of mystery. And these days, when I experience God, I think it's funny that I get goose bumps every time. He is the needy, crying, pooping baby in the manger. But He is also the burning bush, the one enthroned above the wheel full of eyes, the just, the merciful, the profound. Our experience of Him must profoundly encompass both images.
Isaiah 58:15 says, "I dwell on a high and holy place, and also with the contrite and lowly place of spirit in order to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite." Yes, God is both lofty and low, ethereal and earthy, mystery and manifestation. So I propose that if you never get goosebumps as a Christian, something may be amiss. Let's work for a fuller picture. Let's be equally dedicated to both extremes.
As my generation of evangelicals lashes back against the eastern mysticism of our post-modern peers, we try to take God out of the realms of mystery, and seat Him firmly in our midst. Reacting against dualism, we attempt to incorporate God into the mundane, the secular. Our prayer life loses all formality, our churches becomes spiritualized coffee shops (rather than grand cathedrals), and Eugene Peterson writes... The Message.
God's incarnation in our lives is our favorite new doctrine. And to a degree, this is GOOD! Loose the shackles of legalism and religiocracy! Find a God who is REAL, who is RELEVANT, who dwells among us. In college, I loved to meditate on the earthiness of God. I wrote a song that said:
All the liturgies in flight could not lose altitude
to find where You hang out: among the dirt, the grass, the roots.
Yet I was missing something. God is also bigger than me, higher than me, and still chalk-full of mystery. And these days, when I experience God, I think it's funny that I get goose bumps every time. He is the needy, crying, pooping baby in the manger. But He is also the burning bush, the one enthroned above the wheel full of eyes, the just, the merciful, the profound. Our experience of Him must profoundly encompass both images.
Isaiah 58:15 says, "I dwell on a high and holy place, and also with the contrite and lowly place of spirit in order to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite." Yes, God is both lofty and low, ethereal and earthy, mystery and manifestation. So I propose that if you never get goosebumps as a Christian, something may be amiss. Let's work for a fuller picture. Let's be equally dedicated to both extremes.
10.24.2009
I like coffee
I used to hate coffee. It's bad for you. It's an addiction. It tastes gross. All around liquid Satan. I used to laugh at Debra for drinking it every morning and I would scorn her impassioned missives about the romantic bliss of curling up with a hot mug of dark coffee on a bright morning.
Now I'm hooked. And the curling tendrils of steam, the heady aroma, the arrhythmic *prk prk prk* of the coffee maker are so poetic to me that I feel compelled to blog about it! I like it dark. Darker than my car's oil after 8 months of neglect. Half and half won't cut it for me. I want heavy whipping cream. And no boring white sugar for me. Make it brown sugar, but not too much.
I was always a morning person. But now I'm a morning zombie, staggering about until I can sip off the top two inches of sludgy liquid joy. So... Have I sold out to the evil one? Mmmmmm..... probably.
I was always a morning person. But now I'm a morning zombie, staggering about until I can sip off the top two inches of sludgy liquid joy. So... Have I sold out to the evil one? Mmmmmm..... probably.
10.23.2009
Isaiah 64 (remixed)
If the heavens would split and your person descend
And the lofty and firm place feel sunken and thin
As surly as fire makes water to boil
So your enemies shake at the sight of your hand
When you came working wonders which we did not expect
Then the firm-footed mountain found nowhere to stand
Through long ancient eras, not one has perceived
any God, any Other in whom to believe
Who acts on behalf of those waiting for Him
You meet with the just who remember your ways
but are angry with us who have tarried and strayed
for our sins have endured from old until now
So how then, can anyone hope be saved?
Now everyone's dirty, unrighteous, and sick
And our goodness, like diapers, are mired in shit
So all of us wither and fall like the leaves
And sin, like the wind, blows us further away
So nobody rises to call on your name
You had all but abondoned us, hiding your face
But now you're our Father, the artist, the shaper
and we are the Earthy, the pliable clay
And the lofty and firm place feel sunken and thin
As surly as fire makes water to boil
So your enemies shake at the sight of your hand
When you came working wonders which we did not expect
Then the firm-footed mountain found nowhere to stand
Through long ancient eras, not one has perceived
any God, any Other in whom to believe
Who acts on behalf of those waiting for Him
You meet with the just who remember your ways
but are angry with us who have tarried and strayed
for our sins have endured from old until now
So how then, can anyone hope be saved?
Now everyone's dirty, unrighteous, and sick
And our goodness, like diapers, are mired in shit
So all of us wither and fall like the leaves
And sin, like the wind, blows us further away
So nobody rises to call on your name
You had all but abondoned us, hiding your face
But now you're our Father, the artist, the shaper
and we are the Earthy, the pliable clay
10.22.2009
Atlanta!!
Can I tell you about my trip to Atlanta?
God has been putting the word "fly" into my mind for months now. I finally asked if He meant that He wanted me to go on a trip somewhere. Immediately the image of the acronym "ATL" came into my mind. Atlanta? I didn't know anybody in Atlanta. What could he want with me there? Alright, Lord. When do you want me to go to Atlanta?
"October 9-13." I was surprised with the quickness and clarity of His response. Turns out, it was a weekend. Alright. That's weird. I'll make a deal with you, God. I'll go if you get me a ticket under $130. No? Okay. How about $150? No? Well I guess I'm not going.....
A few days later.... "Why don't you just buy the ticket?" Fine! I guess I don't have much to lose, right? A little money, a little pride, but not much else.
As I packed, the Lord said, "Take ten dollars and a change of clothes." Oh great.... anything else? So I wandered the apartment, packing what he told me to pack: My bible, but not my journal. A book by Benazir Bhutto. A ball of string!!
Now... He told me to fly out of Midway. How do I get there? "Take the 2:30 bus." But that gives me half an hour to get on my plane!! "I want you to take that bus"
And surprise surprise. Ye olde bus got stuck in traffic. Resigned, I watched my plane's departure time come and go as I sat in traffic. *sigh* I suppose there must be some good reason for this. "Relax. Your flight is delayed. Just get to your gate." Yeah right Lord. "Trust me. You're flight is delayed." We'll see about that.
The airport monitors showed no delayed flights to Atlanta. So I meandered to my gate to try to get on the next flight. I meandered into a crowd of people beginning to board a plane to Atlanta. Its call numbers matched the ones on my ticket!
Because of the delay, I watched enraptured from my window seat as God masterfully painted the most beautiful sunset I've seen in years. The deepest crimson and orange, broken by clouds, followed by more orange and blue, climbing through another layer of cloud and finally breaking into an open sky of deep blue and steely gray ascending to the first star hanging alone in the night sky. I was tempted to believe He made it just for me. But at least I could say He wanted me to see it.
"Do you want peanuts and a drink," the flight attendant asked. Sure. I was hungry and the Lord had promised to care for every meal. This wasn't exactly prime rib, but I'd take it. Five minutes later another stewardess: "Do you want peanuts and a drink?" Sure. I smiled.
A couple hours later, I was eating a sweet potato with a friend from college who happened to live in Atlanta. Surprise, surprise. She had a guest room with a warm bed for me. I was expecting the Salvation Army, but I'd take this too.
The next day, I tutored refugee kids, attended a soccer game, had dinner with a neighbor from Chicago who HAPPENED to be there that weekend, and generally wondered what I was doing there. Sunday, I went to a Southern Baptist Church where the pastor greeted everyone in the pews (leaning down to kiss each head), the choir sang hymn after endless hymn about the blood of Jesus, and the lunch consisted of meatballs and sweet tea. Culture shock.
Sunday afternoon, the Lord spoke. “Go to Atlanta at 4:00.” Okay… I parked near the Coca-Cola museum and started to wander through an adjacent park. Just as I started to wonder what I was doing there, the Lord showed me a man smoking a cigarette…. Quite aloofly. “Go talk with him.” No no no no no no no no no no no no!!!!! I did NOT sign up for THAT! I signed up for nice cozy personal relationship with God where He whispers sweet nothings to me about loving me and having great plans for my life. I was REALLY hoping that wouldn’t involve talking to strangers.
A standoff. I read my book. The man smoked his cigarette. God waited. I got desperate. The man smoked. God waited. Finally….. “Ahem… um…. Can you…. Spare a cigarette?” Well that was lame. I don’t even smoke! “Sure,” he replied. “Need a light.” Aaaaaaah…. I never enjoyed tobacco so much in my life. My stomach was inside-out.
A conversation. Where you from? What do you do? He was Kyle, a veteran, thoroughly messed up by his experiences in Bosnia and Afghanistan, now living at the Salvation Army. Finally, I confess, “Look, I’m a Christian and I felt like God wanted me to talk to you. Is there anything I can do for you?” No? …..well yes. There was one thing. He wanted to find a Reverend Smothers. He had heard her preach and had something important to tell her. By the powers of Google, we found her and called the church. They had a service starting in half an hour.
Kyle and I sat together in the front row of First United Methodist church in downtown Atlanta. He liked it, wanted to come back sometime. I dropped him off, gave him my number and asked him to call me sometime. He thanked me. I was the only person ever to befriend him in Atlanta. I think he was as amazed by the whole thing as I was.
The next day, I met with the director of a large para-church organization. My friend from Trinity works for him and she felt it would be good for us to meet. It was. For two hours over Chic-fillet and a gallon of sweet tea, Bob Dukes invested in me, encouraging and empowering me to pursue God’s calling in my life. I also shared a message the Lord had given me for him. Bob knew exactly what the message was about.
In a life full of meetings, this one was special. It stands out. It was exactly what I need in my life right now. More than a simple encouragement, I actually felt… anointed. Needless to say, it was well worth the trip to Atlanta. God is good. I had exactly enough money for the trip, every meal was cared for, God’s leading was evident… and I found my purpose for being there. Good story, eh?
God has been putting the word "fly" into my mind for months now. I finally asked if He meant that He wanted me to go on a trip somewhere. Immediately the image of the acronym "ATL" came into my mind. Atlanta? I didn't know anybody in Atlanta. What could he want with me there? Alright, Lord. When do you want me to go to Atlanta?
"October 9-13." I was surprised with the quickness and clarity of His response. Turns out, it was a weekend. Alright. That's weird. I'll make a deal with you, God. I'll go if you get me a ticket under $130. No? Okay. How about $150? No? Well I guess I'm not going.....
A few days later.... "Why don't you just buy the ticket?" Fine! I guess I don't have much to lose, right? A little money, a little pride, but not much else.
As I packed, the Lord said, "Take ten dollars and a change of clothes." Oh great.... anything else? So I wandered the apartment, packing what he told me to pack: My bible, but not my journal. A book by Benazir Bhutto. A ball of string!!
Now... He told me to fly out of Midway. How do I get there? "Take the 2:30 bus." But that gives me half an hour to get on my plane!! "I want you to take that bus"
And surprise surprise. Ye olde bus got stuck in traffic. Resigned, I watched my plane's departure time come and go as I sat in traffic. *sigh* I suppose there must be some good reason for this. "Relax. Your flight is delayed. Just get to your gate." Yeah right Lord. "Trust me. You're flight is delayed." We'll see about that.
The airport monitors showed no delayed flights to Atlanta. So I meandered to my gate to try to get on the next flight. I meandered into a crowd of people beginning to board a plane to Atlanta. Its call numbers matched the ones on my ticket!
Because of the delay, I watched enraptured from my window seat as God masterfully painted the most beautiful sunset I've seen in years. The deepest crimson and orange, broken by clouds, followed by more orange and blue, climbing through another layer of cloud and finally breaking into an open sky of deep blue and steely gray ascending to the first star hanging alone in the night sky. I was tempted to believe He made it just for me. But at least I could say He wanted me to see it.
"Do you want peanuts and a drink," the flight attendant asked. Sure. I was hungry and the Lord had promised to care for every meal. This wasn't exactly prime rib, but I'd take it. Five minutes later another stewardess: "Do you want peanuts and a drink?" Sure. I smiled.
A couple hours later, I was eating a sweet potato with a friend from college who happened to live in Atlanta. Surprise, surprise. She had a guest room with a warm bed for me. I was expecting the Salvation Army, but I'd take this too.
The next day, I tutored refugee kids, attended a soccer game, had dinner with a neighbor from Chicago who HAPPENED to be there that weekend, and generally wondered what I was doing there. Sunday, I went to a Southern Baptist Church where the pastor greeted everyone in the pews (leaning down to kiss each head), the choir sang hymn after endless hymn about the blood of Jesus, and the lunch consisted of meatballs and sweet tea. Culture shock.
Sunday afternoon, the Lord spoke. “Go to Atlanta at 4:00.” Okay… I parked near the Coca-Cola museum and started to wander through an adjacent park. Just as I started to wonder what I was doing there, the Lord showed me a man smoking a cigarette…. Quite aloofly. “Go talk with him.” No no no no no no no no no no no no!!!!! I did NOT sign up for THAT! I signed up for nice cozy personal relationship with God where He whispers sweet nothings to me about loving me and having great plans for my life. I was REALLY hoping that wouldn’t involve talking to strangers.
A standoff. I read my book. The man smoked his cigarette. God waited. I got desperate. The man smoked. God waited. Finally….. “Ahem… um…. Can you…. Spare a cigarette?” Well that was lame. I don’t even smoke! “Sure,” he replied. “Need a light.” Aaaaaaah…. I never enjoyed tobacco so much in my life. My stomach was inside-out.
A conversation. Where you from? What do you do? He was Kyle, a veteran, thoroughly messed up by his experiences in Bosnia and Afghanistan, now living at the Salvation Army. Finally, I confess, “Look, I’m a Christian and I felt like God wanted me to talk to you. Is there anything I can do for you?” No? …..well yes. There was one thing. He wanted to find a Reverend Smothers. He had heard her preach and had something important to tell her. By the powers of Google, we found her and called the church. They had a service starting in half an hour.
Kyle and I sat together in the front row of First United Methodist church in downtown Atlanta. He liked it, wanted to come back sometime. I dropped him off, gave him my number and asked him to call me sometime. He thanked me. I was the only person ever to befriend him in Atlanta. I think he was as amazed by the whole thing as I was.
The next day, I met with the director of a large para-church organization. My friend from Trinity works for him and she felt it would be good for us to meet. It was. For two hours over Chic-fillet and a gallon of sweet tea, Bob Dukes invested in me, encouraging and empowering me to pursue God’s calling in my life. I also shared a message the Lord had given me for him. Bob knew exactly what the message was about.
In a life full of meetings, this one was special. It stands out. It was exactly what I need in my life right now. More than a simple encouragement, I actually felt… anointed. Needless to say, it was well worth the trip to Atlanta. God is good. I had exactly enough money for the trip, every meal was cared for, God’s leading was evident… and I found my purpose for being there. Good story, eh?
10.16.2009
ye olde blog beginning
Blog. Blog. Blog. Why on earth am I writing a blog? ...I think I want to share what God is doing in me, to me, through me. It's been surreal to see it happen. Like.... "what?! You mean you're actually real?!" Yet there he is, bigger and more real than any spiritual allegory and I like it. I hope it can encourage some folks.
I also want to secrete my pent-up creative juices all across cyberspace in ways liberating and therapeutic. I'll share songs, pictures, and MSpaint drawings of my family on the lawn in front of my house with the sun smiling brightly above. I will be so witty and satirical that you will all bow down and call me "Rapier-Tongue". Nah... how 'bout I just tell you what's going on? k... where to begin.
I hereby begineth this blog
I'll dream up this stuff while I jog
I hope it's productive
and a little seductive
So you'll read it while sipping your grog
I also want to secrete my pent-up creative juices all across cyberspace in ways liberating and therapeutic. I'll share songs, pictures, and MSpaint drawings of my family on the lawn in front of my house with the sun smiling brightly above. I will be so witty and satirical that you will all bow down and call me "Rapier-Tongue". Nah... how 'bout I just tell you what's going on? k... where to begin.
I hereby begineth this blog
I'll dream up this stuff while I jog
I hope it's productive
and a little seductive
So you'll read it while sipping your grog