Two Thousand Thirteen

2013. Brutiful. That's the only word that comes to mind. It's no secret, 2013 was a tough year for this guy - It was brutal, in every sense of the word. Those moments are found in the archives of this blog. But so are the beautiful moments. The redeeming ones. The unexpected adventures found amidst my reeling heart. And for the first year ever, I've been present for all of it. I didn't disappear. I didn't run from it. I walked straight into my fear, and I came out on the other side.

So I can't hate 2013, I don't have it in me. I won't be stuck in it. I won't regret it. I'm so ready for 2014. But I will remember it. I will hold it close. I will pick its memories up and throw them around when fear seems easier. I'll read the pages of this blog. I'll celebrate 2013, always. Because this was the year that Jesus changed everything.

During 2013, this is what I learned and loved and found true:

• Love always wins, always.
• Jesus runs faster than we do - So we have to stop running.
• Writing is art, and that's weird, because I'm not very artsy.
• "Oceans" by Hillsong United is the greatest worship song ever - I've been listening for 10 months straight.
• Love Does, so if you don't take action, you don't love it or them - Thanks Bob Goff.
• I read the Circle Maker and learned how to pray, really pray, with a different kind of momentum.
• Church planting is hard and messy and full of managing tension, but it's worth it.
• Jesus never gave up on anyone, and he still doesn't - We have to stop giving up on people, they need us.
• Grace doesn't exist in doses - It's all or nothing.
• Becoming an adult is not easy - Why doesn't anybody tell us this?
• Every single person wants to be known and to belong, whether they know it or not.
• The most significant conversations happen at kitchen tables.
• Saturdays are for adventures and mischief and Ultimate Frisbee, not sleeping in or tv.
• When Jesus tells you something, hold fast to it. Even if it doesn't come to pass in your time frame, it will come to pass.
• Love & War by John Eldredge is the greatest book on loving well - If you are, or want to be a husband or wife, you have no choice but to read this.
• Honoring a commitment is always worth it - You'll learn so much.
• Thursday's are for Circle and family and dinner and catchphrase and too many people in a living room.
• Sometimes what Jesus says is different from what everyone in your life says - This is hard.
• God will be faithful to complete in you the work he started - It's wild when you let him take control.
• The devil uses patterns to keep us from all that Jesus has for us. If you find yourself in a pattern, it's time to do something different. It's time to fight it. It's time to feel uncomfortable.
• "They were saved by the blood of the lamb and the WORDS of their testimonies" - Revelation 12:11. In the last book of the bible we're reminded that Jesus and our STORIES save us. It's time to tell your story. Start a blog. Meet with friends. Meet with one person. Someone needs to hear it.
• I wouldn't rather be anywhere than at Faith Church on Sunday mornings.

There are hundreds more, but I hope these few help propel you into the New Year. I hope you think about them with me. What did you learn this year? Have you ever stopped to think about that before you're on to the next one?

I hope tonight you're fully present and engaged and bursting with life. I hope you're with all the people and in the places you want to be. I hope that no matter what 2013 looked like for you, you know that you have a New Year and anything can happen. It's going to be wild people.

More to come - J

Sheep Gate Pool

A few months ago I wrote a blog called "Kitchen Tables." You can click on the link and read all of it, but it was mostly about my church and community and friends, and how they're all in Northwest Oklahoma City. I wrote about one friend in our group who decided that it was time for her to move from Moore to Northwest Oklahoma City. It was time for her to stop dipping her toe in the water and do a belly flop. I hinted around the idea that I might eventually take that plunge also, and I did recently. And Jesus continues to show me why it's worth coming to the table.

When you experience grace, you learn to give grace. It's when you're surrounded by people who continually give you grace through your mess, that you truly learn how to be gracious.That's how it's worked for me at least.

I'm not the most organized person. In fact, it's fair to say I'm the least organized person. I was moving out of an apartment that had seen the hardest and darkest year of my life. Although things had been better for a few months, it was almost as if the darkness hadn't lifted on that apartment. I can't think of one good memory there. Needless to say, it was a disaster when it came time to move a couple weeks ago. My room was a wreck. I hadn't the slightest idea which clothes were clean or dirty. There were plates and glasses and sunflower seeds and crumbled up Wendy's bags. Picture frames were knocked over and DVD's scattered the floor.

It had been fine, because only I had to see that place. I didn't invite anybody over, and I was never home. I just slept there. My friends offered to help when it was time to move, and you'd think with what I just described I'd clean so that they could help me clean. But remember that part about me being unorganized. It was now moving day, and my friends showed up and experienced the disaster. I'm pretty sure they were hesitant at first, "Do we really love him thisssss much?" Everything was such a mess that I wasn't even sure how to ask them for help. They were there, and willing, but I didn't even know what I needed. We all began arbitrarily packing things up. I was more embarrassed than I had been in a long time, and these are people that love me as much as anyone in the world.

 I'm pretty sure I was annoying the crap out of my friend Jacob, because out of my embarrassment I was trying to help everyone that was helping me. I don't even know if that makes sense to you. I wanted their help, but it was so awful I didn't want them to have to do anything. Every time Jacob and Thomas would pick something up to carry to the truck I'd try to intervene and take one of their places.

That's when Jacob said, "Dude, let us be your friends!" - This changed everything. He meant, let us love you. Let us come into your mess and get filthy and tired and pull you out of it. Let us spend two Saturday's moving in the freezing cold. Let us be disgusted and embarrassed with you.

Grace is never given partially. If it is, it isn't grace. My friends didn't load up the truck and drop everything at the front door of my new apartment. Instead, they helped me unpack all of it. They helped me create a new home and a fresh start. They didn't love me half way, they gave me everything they had.

This is what Jesus does for us, right? He comes into our mess when everyone else has given up on us. He gets dirty and messy and embarrassed with us. In John 5: 1-8, Jesus heals a paralytic who had been an invalid for 38 years. Every day he laid on a mat near the sheep gate pool trying to bathe. He never made it into the pool. He couldn't move and people would just pass him by. Jesus finds him there and heals him, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk."

What we miss in this verse is that this paralyzed man was trying to bathe, and had been lying on a mat everyday for a very long time. He couldn't bathe. He couldn't find a restroom. He couldn't change his clothes. He didn't have deodorant. Or soap. Can you even begin to imagine what his mat probably smelled like? What a mess it was? I think my old room was getting close to this. Do you think Jesus stood on the other side of the street and healed him so he wouldn't have to smell him? I doubt it. I bet Jesus was all up in this guys mess. Right there with him. Pulling him out of it. Healing him. And telling him to take his mat, as a reminder of that day.

I think at some point we're all this man on the mat. Whatever mess we find ourselves in, whether we created it or not. We don't know how to get out of it. Maybe we've even given up. Maybe the water is right there at the sheep gate pool, we're so close, and we just can't make it. So we settle for living on the mat.

It's when we're exhausted and broken and so tired of trying to get out of our mess that we stop and listen to Jesus saying, "Dude, let us be your friends!" - This is what grace looks like. This is what love looks like. It's messy and it comes to get dirty and pull us through every single time. So you will make it through the mess. You will experience grace that you don't understand. Friends will love you like you're their family. You will be made whole.

And when we make it through the mess, we've got nothing left to do but cannon ball into the sheep gate pool.

More to come - J

 

as long as it takes

So I guess it has been a few weeks since I've posted a blog. This hasn't been intentional. I wrote two blogs during that time and didn't post either of them. And I'm still not posting them. Not because I don't like them or don't think they're up to par. You'd feel inspired, I'm sure. They might be great, but my heart is elsewhere. That is after all, why I write. For my heart. It's how I work things out. It sets me free, if only for a few paragraphs. A few paragraphs on a free blog site that somehow turned into people texting and Facebooking and calling to ask, where's the next blog? Which is still hard to comprehend. People actually read my blog. This blog, might not be what they were looking for, but maybe you'll find some freedom in it.

The truth is, I don't trust God. At least not very much. Not in every area. Oh, is that too honest? Surely I can't be the only one who is fickle. Haven't you ever felt that way? Like right now you could cast a mountain into the sea or believe for the blind to see and it would happen, but when it comes to_____________, there's no way God could do it, right? I've trusted God over and over in my life. I've trusted him in big things and in little things. I've believed and I've prayed through. I've seen him work in my life over and over again. Divinely. Inexplicably. I trusted him when my mom passed away when I was 15, when I had a terrible relationship with my father, when I didn't know where to go to college or law school, what job to take, if I'd somehow pass the bar, or if I was ever going to find a church in Oklahoma City. All of those were hard and all of them broke my heart. I still trusted him even if it felt hopeless at times.

I keep coming back to Proverbs 3:5-6, you know, the verse that's on everyone's Facebook profile..."Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge him and he shall set your paths straight." I think we all like the idea of our paths being straight. But I've been missing it. He says, trust in me "with ALL of your heart." All of it. All of it. All.Of.It. All. Not the areas that are easy for you. Not the areas where you see hope. Not the areas where you've already been given favor. It's your whole heart or it's none of it. I've seen God come through so many times, and still I withhold this part of my heart from him. I withhold the part that dreams of a wife. It's what I want the most, and it's what scares me the most. My mind is finite and I don't have the ability to understand why I can place my trust in him in every area but this one. Why I can trust that he will bring my wildest dreams to fruition so I can serve him in the way he's called me. Why I can still love him without my heart hardening and being bitter with him for not healing my mom 16 years ago. So then why, why does my heart struggle to believe that he can and will at the perfect time bring a woman into my life that surpasses anything I could have ever dreamed of in my wildest of dreams, and I'll wake up every day wondering how I can call somebody so incredible, wife.

The weeks of October. My lack of trust. All of my heart. They brought me to Peter. This account of Peter where the storms are raging in the sea and Jesus calls Peter out on the water and Peter steps out of the boat and stands on the water. Seconds later Peter loses his trust and his faith, and when he takes his eyes off Jesus Peter starts to sink, but he doesn't drown because he finds himself in the embrace of Jesus. His Saviour. It's only a few short chapters later where we find Jesus in the villages of Caesarea Philippi, changing Peter's life forever, Matthew 16:13-20 goes like this:

¹³ When Jesus arrived in the villages of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “What are people saying about who the Son of Man is?”

¹⁴ They replied, “Some think he is John the Baptizer, some say Elijah, some Jeremiah or one of the other prophets.”

¹⁵ He pressed them, “And how about you? Who do you say I am?”

¹⁶ Simon Peter said, “You’re the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

^17-18 Jesus came back, “God bless you, Simon, son of Jonah! You didn’t get that answer out of books or from teachers. My Father in heaven, God himself, let you in on this secret of who I really am. And now I’m going to tell you who you are, really are. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church, a church so expansive with energy that not even the gates of hell will be able to keep it out.

¹⁹ “And that’s not all. You will have complete and free access to God’s kingdom, keys to open any and every door: no more barriers between heaven and earth, earth and heaven. A yes on earth is yes in heaven. A no on earth is no in heaven.”

I believe that God wants to take us deeper. That he wants to take us in his embrace when we haven't trusted him with all of our heart, and now it's a few short chapters later. And he's pressing us, about who we say he is, about what his promises are, about the desires he's placed in our hearts to serve him in ridiculous ways. And I only want to say, you're the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God. He's answered, and told me who I am, who I really am. His son, Josiah, a pastor, a speaker, an attorney that leaks Jesus in a courtroom. A dreamer with a vision , a vision so expansive with energy and passion that not even the gates of hell will be able to stand against. And I believe those things with every fiber of my being.

What I'm learning is that I can't be a husband or have a family if he hasn't pressed me, if I haven't proclaimed who he is and listened to who he says I am, who I really am. He's wanted me to have this "come to Jesus moment" more than I ever wanted a wife I'm sure. The thing is, this moment never looks like we think, or fits into our schedules. My moment is going on a year and just recently. Okay, it was last night, my prayer changed...

"I don't want easy answers or quick answers because I have a tendency to mishandle the blessings that come too easily or too quickly. I take the credit or take them for granted. So now I pray that it will take long enough and be hard enough for God to receive all of the glory. Change your prayer approach from as soon as possible to as long as it takes." - Mark Batterson

This isn't the blog where I conclude I don't need a wife. That I'm content with only Jesus because he fulfills my every need. That's dumb. Sure he fulfills all our needs and is our only source for life. I get that. But he also placed the desire in each of us, at our core, to want a wife or a husband for the very reasons he created Eve in the Garden. We need a teammate. So my desire hasn't changed, but I have. Because he asked me who I thought he was and I told him, and for a year now he's been responding and telling me who I am. So that's why my prayer is changing, because maybe right now, this very morning, he's telling my wife who she is...who she really is. Maybe he's been telling her or maybe he's just started. Maybe he's not done telling me. But either way I'm in, for as long as it takes. And I'm praying for her specifically and intentionally, even if that doesn't make me tough or manly, or makes a really good Nicholas Sparks novel. I don't care. I've got massive dreams and things to do and they all involve her. When she's ready. When I'm ready. When God says we're ready. Whoever she is. Because it will be worth it to look at her every single day and think, she's more incredible than I ever imagined.

More to come - J



big ass circles

Recently I started reading  a book called "The Circle Maker" by Mark Batterson, and it's incredible. It's based on a story of a man named Honi who lived in Jerusalem the generation before Jesus was born. The people in Jerusalem had gone a year without a drop of rain. The prophets of the Old Testament had died off, and hearing from God had become an afterthought for most. But Honi, believed that even if he couldn't hear God, God could still hear him. So he walked out in front of the entire city hobbling on his cane and began to draw a circle around himself in the dust. A large crowd had gathered to see what was going on. He then got on his knees and prayed aloud, telling God that he was not leaving that circle until rain fell upon their people. Can you imagine that crowd? I know I probably would have scoffed at ole' Honi. But not moments later sprinkles began to fall and the desperate people began to rejoice. Dancing and Singing. Honi hadn't moved an inch. He again prayed aloud and declared that these sprinkles were not the rain he had prayed for. But rather, he had prayed for rain that would sustain and provide. Seconds later it began to downpour. Raindrops as big as eggs fell from the sky and the people scattered. The city was flooding, but Honi again didn't move an inch. One more time he prayed aloud and cried out not for a rain that wouldn't bring destruction, but a rain that would be gracious and bring life and favor upon his people. And in that moment the rains calmed. It went from a storm to a shower. That day became known as "the day."

I was lost in thought for awhile after I read this. I just sat in silence as I came to this realization: I've been standing in the crowd.

Honi's story is one of my favorite stories to date. More than anything it makes me realize that so many of us are standing in the crowd watching  the few and far between Honi's. Think about it. The story makes clear that these were a people of faith. God wasn't punishing them. It just wasn't raining. They were dry and they were starting to die. They couldn't comprehend how or why Honi would even do such a thing and think God would listen. Before Honi's prayer it was impossible for them to believe, after it was impossible for them not to.

It's interesting because each person in the crowd still received the blessing, right? Even though they weren't in that circle. Admittedly, I've been in the crowd for far too long. This doesn't mean I don't believe or pray or receive blessings in my life. But what if there's more than mist? What if God has been sitting there this whole time waiting for us to call to him and pray boldly and specifically for the things and desires he's placed inside of us. What if he's offended by how small our prayers are.

"When you live by faith, it often feels like you are risking your reputation. You're not. You're risking God's reputation. It's not your faith that's on the line. It's his faithfulness." - Mark Batterson

I think that's what the crowd, and myself, don't realize. Honi isn't afraid to kneel in the circle. He's not afraid to pray out loud and let every single person know what he's believing for. When it starts raining he's not afraid to pray for a different kind of rain. He prays specifically for a specific type of rain. And when he gets a sprinkle....he doesn't say, well, maybe this will work...?  He digs deeper and he expects more because he prayed for greater things. The kinds of things that make Jesus famous.

For me, it feels like I'm risking my reputation over and over. If I pray for specific things it's easy to get my hopes up. It's easy to get discouraged when those prayers don't immediately come to pass. It's even embarrassing. I thought maybe, just maybe I could stand out there with everyone else and survive off of the light mist that lands on the crowd while we watch the Honi's of the world get drenched with audacity.

I've decided that I'm tired of standing in the crowd. I'm tired of hoping that someone else will be audacious with their prayers. If you're a regular reader (I like to say this as if there are thousands of you) then you know I started leading the college and young adults ministry at my church this fall. Our church is only two years young so we don't have the big budgets or man power for extravagant things. Six months ago there were 7 young adults/college students and today this ministry looks like 25 people stacked in a living room on Thursday nights. It's incredible, and it has changed my life. But just like Honi when it started sprinkling, I know there's more and for the first time in my life I'm drawing a big ass circle. There are four college campuses within 20 minutes of our church, and the only significant college ministry I can find is 35-45 minutes away. I Google church after church in Oklahoma City and I can't find any college ministries. If they do actually have a college web page I can't even decipher where they meet or what time it's at.

The silence is deafening in this city. I can't take all four campuses at once, but today I made my first connection at my first campus. We had a lunch meeting two miles from campus and talked about potential connections and all the possibilities for growth there. After lunch I did the only thing I could think to do...went two miles up the street and drove circles around that campus and prayed over and over for God to give it to me. For him to give me the entire thing. For the right relationships and resources to come from the nothing I have right now. For the way the vision he's given me is going to continue to unfold. For a ministry that connects students to the Jesus that is completely ridiculous and full of adventure. The same Jesus that walked on water, turned water to wine, put mud in peoples eyes, and talked to everyone that he wasn't supposed to. For a ministry that compels students to stop standing at the door of life until they graduate, but invites them to clutch the knob and swing the door open to a city that needs freshmen and sophomores and juniors and seniors to start organizations now and feed the homeless now and show the Oklahoma City prostitutes the love of Jesus now. It probably won't happen over night, and it might look really lame before it's really awesome. But I know that I've been given a vision, and now I've got a circle....and that's a dangerous combination.

So that's why I've been scared to get in the circle in the past and that's what I'm doing about it. You should know God is begging you to put his reputation on the line and draw a big ass circle around your marriage, your future job, your best friend, your biggest dreams, your next meal, your bills that keep stacking up, your addiction, or whatever else you might think is too big for him. And just for the record, if you feel like an idiot praying for it, or telling someone, or writing about it because it seems impossible...you're probably onto something.

 More to come- J

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I'm Feelin September

It's almost fall and I'm so ready I can't even take it. It's absolutely my favorite season. The days are cooler. The nights are crisp. The leaves change colors. Football is on, playoff baseball begins, and fires will start burning. C'monnnn somebody I'm getting fired up (a la Josh Cossey). But it's still September and people post their new fall clothes on Instagram because it's not cold enough, or at all, to wear them yet. I hear Starbucks even released their Pumpkin Spiced Latee early this year - making money off of your anticipation. I'm guilty also, I'd probably be willing to throw away the rest of September like all of you. But I have to slow myself down and remember what the rest of September offers; with the last bit of summer, we're offered all kinds of moments, and that's something we can never get back This isn't another cease the day blog. Not another "#YOLO" anthem. I'm not telling you to live your life to the fullest and skydive and travel and stay out too late. I'm not telling you not to look forward to things. I'm telling you to feel the moment to the fullest, the real moments, the big ones that seem so small but later loop in your mind like a six second Vine.

Doesn't it feel like we live our lives waiting for the next big event? The next season. We're a bunch of moment wasters. My college baseball coach shared a story with the seniors every year, "the marble story", to remind the seniors just how few moments we had left to run out to our positions, slide in the dirt, and get grass stains on our white pants like 10 year old boys. It's kind of long and throws off the flow of a normal blog. Luckily there are no rules on this blog, so give it a read if you have time.

"The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable. A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the basement shack with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning, turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it...

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net. Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whoever he was talking with something about "a thousand marbles".

I was intrigued and stopped to listen to what he had to say. "Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital."

He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles." "You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years." "Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime.Now stick with me Tom, I'm getting to the important part."

"It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail", he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy."

"So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round-up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in the shack next to my gear. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away." "I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time." "It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band.

73 Old Man, this is K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!" You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast."

"What brought this on?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, nothing special, it's just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles."

So, how many Saturdays do you have left, and how many have you wasted? I think life is all about moments. Saturdays are really just the greatest opportunity for moments. I don't know what season you're in. Maybe you're in an incredibly fruitful season and you never want it to end. Maybe it's been the worst season of your life. Maybe it's neither, and you are just muddling along through each day somewhere in between. You could be starting your freshman year of college or just realizing you're a senior. You could be looking forward to your wedding. The perfect vacation. Falling in love. Chasing your dreams. You could be facing tragedy. Struggling to get up each morning. Finding it difficult to stay sober. Avoiding admitting you were wrong. Starting a new ministry. Or rebuilding a baseball program.

Wherever we're at we have to remember we only have so many moments. No season will last forever, whether good or bad or in between. We have to face it all. We have to be present. We have to feel heartbreak and fear and pain and suffering. We have to feel disappointment and let down and being unsure and confused. We have to feel our hearts beating out of our chests with joy and excitement. We have to feel love and grace and compassion. We have to find the ability to be real. If we're not facing the music we're not living. 

"She wasn't waiting for the good part. She knows that these are the good parts, even while they're the bad parts. She wasn't shut down, going through the motions. She wasn't holding tight till this season passed. She was right there with me, right there with her kids, right in all the glory and pain and mess and beauty of a spring night in between everything." -Shauna Niequist

There's something about all the moments and all the months. There's something about staying present that is so risky and so fulfilling. There's something about not just passing the days and numbing yourself from the bigness of a moment. Right? That's what makes the moments bruitful. Beautiful and Brutal. They both make you feel alive. I can't help but think that Jesus gave us all the feelings and all the moments for a reason. So I can't just throw away September while I'm waiting on October. I can't throw away being diligent and learning while bigger dreams are unfolding right in front of me. I can't throw away learning how to be a husband while I'm waiting on a wife. I can't throw away Saturday mornings. I can't throw away any of those times, not when it's easy, not when it's painful, not when it's boring, not when I'm waiting for something great to happen.

This September I dare you to feel as many moments as you can.

More to come- J

eighteen days

For the first time in a long time, I haven't known what to write. I haven't been able to find the topic or the story. I've been doing fun things. There have been awesome moments. I have some great stories. But still, I've had nothing to say. It has been eighteen days since I last blogged. Sure, that's not forever. But sometimes it feels like it when you don't know what to write. 

One of my dreams is to be a writer. I'm not really sure what that looks like. I want to write a book. I want to have a blog that thousands of people read and are somehow filled with life. But while that dream exists, I've also come to this realization. Writing is a business. Most prolific writers have contracts and agents. Deadlines and schedules. Suppose you're Donald Miller and writing is your full time job. You have a contract and you've got to write three, or four, or five books in a year - or however long. You probably don't have eighteen days to not know what to say.

There's a fairly new song out by Jimmy Needham, it's called "Clear the Stage." It goes like this:

Clear the stage and set the sound and lights ablaze
If that's the measure you must take to crush the idols
Jerk the pews & all the decorations, too
Until the congregations few, then have revival
Tell your friends that this is where the party ends
Until you're broken for your sins, you can't be social
Then seek the lord & wait for what he has in store
And know that great is your reward so just be hopeful

'cause you can sing all you want to
Yes, you can sing all you want to
You can sing all you want to
And still get it wrong; worship is more than a song

Take a break from all the plans that you have made
And sit at home alone and wait for god to whisper
Beg him please to open up his mouth and speak
And pray for real upon your knees until they blister
Shine the light on every corner of your life
Until the pride and lust and lies are in the open
Then read the word and put to test the things you've heard
Until your heart and soul are stirred and rocked and broken

I've had this song on repeat the past two days. Sometimes I catch myself thinking, woah, chill out Jimmy...you're a little intense there. His words are almost offensive...and I get defensive. I think this is sometimes the way truth works. It's the way the gospel works. It offends us by nature. We either clinch our fists and get defensive or we fall to our knees with our palms up.

What I'm realizing after eighteen days is there are times you have to clear the stage. It doesn't matter if you're doing great things or awful things. You can build a church, make best friends, feed the homeless, or run an organization. You can make memories and take awesome trips. Dominate your job. Have the biggest crush on someone. And maybe all of those things are God honoring. But despite all of it, there's an insatiable desire for more. 

Jimmy sings..."Then read the word and put to test the things you've heard until your heart and soul are stirred and rocked and broken." All great things can become a distraction and none of them can take the place of talking to Jesus, of falling on your knees and listening to him speak. 

So last night I did that. I stopped going a million miles an hour with all the great things going on in my life. I did nothing in silence and I listened while I did it. I got rid of the outer distractions, and found the inner distractions that make us always so welcoming of the outer. But there I also found the overwhelming presence of Jesus. The kind that pulls at your heart and reminds you of his bigness and goodness and faithfulness. The kind that makes you cry like an 8th grade girl because you don't know what else to do in his presence.

When you clear the stage, Jesus always meets you there because that's his promise. Despite our likeness of Peter, of David, of Abraham, and Adam and Eve. He's faithful. So I dare you to clear the stage. To go Youtube the song, and listen to what Jesus wants to tell you and nobody else. He desperately wants to talk to you.

"Somewhere we know that without silence words lose their meaning, that without listening speaking no longer heals, that without distance closeness cannot cure." - Henri J.M. Nouwen

I'm thankful for eighteen days, for silence, and for words with meaning that brings life.

More to come - J

wisdom from a seven year old

Why is it that we aren't typically interested in learning about anything until our feet are to the fire? Maybe this is only me, and if so feel free to stop reading now. But seriously, why do we do it? I know learning about something can't ever really prepare you for the experience of it. Whether it's marriage, a new career, a new semester, a new friend, being a parent, or even just a new day. I think we should continually seek wisdom, knowledge, and understanding.

The first chapter in Proverbs is entitled "The Beginning of Knowledge." Proverbs 1:1-5 has been my go to the past few months. For some reason I can't get past it. Maybe it's because I've never been in this place before.

"The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel: To know wisdom and instruction, to understand words of insight, to receive instruction in wise dealing, in righteousness, justice, and equity; to give prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the youth- Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance..."

It reminds me of the people in my life that I can only think to describe as, wise. You know, the select two or three that you would swear are on a different wave length with Jesus. The ones you just have to talk to when you're in a real pickle. And you often wonder, will I ever know or love Jesus as much as they do? I love those people and I hope I grow into one of them someday.

However, recently I've been learning from a seven year old little girl. Here's just a few things shes teaching me.

How to be Fearless.

She goes to my church and I first met her about a month ago when the church took a trip to Six Flags. She's seven and she rode every single roller coaster that day. I love roller coasters so I also rode them all. But I know I wasn't as brave as her. It was near the end of the day and the whole group met back up to ride a couple last rides before we called it a day. The Texas Giant was all that was left, and of course she rode it. She rode it with me and we sat at the very front. I remember slowly creeping to the top and feeling pretty fearful. She was just talking away and looking out into the distance. And then we got to the peak. I gripped the cart for deal life, but she let go and put her arms in the air as we plummeted straight down.

She taught me that letting go and putting your arms in the air is the only way to do it, getting on the ride isn't enough. Taking the job isn't enough. Moving isn't enough. Being in the relationship isn't enough. Showing up isn't enough. Sending a text isn't enough. You can't just put your toes in the water. You're either all in, or you're still holding on to the cart and missing out on a whole lot.

How to Stand Your Ground.

Our church just finished Vacation Bible School this week for all the grade school kids. It was only three nights, but it seemed like a month. It was definitely worth it, though. The first two nights were great and we taught a lot of kids about Jesus. I was able to spend a lot of time with my seven year old friend over these three days. But I remember the last night vividly. At the end of each night we'd have praise and worship. And each night we'd ask if there were anyone who needed to give their hearts to Jesus. The first night a few kids went down to the altar. The second night more kids went down. The last night every single kid went down in a frenzy. As soon as we asked the question there was a stampede to the altar. Except my little friend didn't go. She just stood next to me, and looked up at me and said "woah!"

I smiled and asked her if she wanted to go with the other kids. She said "no." I asked her if she would like me to go with her, and again she confidently said "no thanks." - I don't know for sure what she was thinking, but I had peace about it. It was almost as if she were looking at the other kids like they were crazy, like she wanted to tell them....you asked Jesus into your heart last night and the night before...what the heck are you doing? He loves you, He's not going anywhere.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Or maybe you just weren't there to see the confidence in her face. We already know she's fearless, remember?

How to be a Dad.

I have three nephews I'm incredibly close with. They're probably the most important things to me in the entire world. Unfortunately they live in Kansas City so I don't see them as much as I'd like to. They teach me patience, and a lot of other things that it's probably going to take to be a dad to boys one day. I haven't been around little girls very much. So I'm learning a lot recently from my friend at church. She was a little bit shy at first. After our Six Flags trip she'd come find me on Sundays at church, grin and wave, and disappear. But then one Sunday I went and found her and bent down and asked her how she was and told her how beautiful she looked for church. Ever since then she'll come and find me, throw her arms around me, and I'll tell her how beautiful she looks.

During VBS I was able to spend a lot of time with her. We'd play and laugh and be goofy together. She'd always want me to sit with her. She'd wave to me from across the room. But there was a moment I lost it. Probably the first moment I thought, I can't wait to be a dad someday. On the last night after she had stood her ground, we were going to end the night praying over all the kids and leaders who helped make the week happen. All of the kids gathered around the stage and her friends came and grabbed her arm and drug her off to the other side of the stage like little girls do. I didn't follow, I just stood around the other kids. But as our pastor got ready to pray I looked over and she was leaning back peeking at me around all the other people. And when she saw me look at her she just left her friends and ran back over to me and held my hand as we prayed. I was done for. I had just the slightest glimpse of what it must be like to have a little girl.

I don't have kids. I'm not even married. I don't try to be her dad just like I don't try to be my nephew's dad. They both have great dads. But I do try to learn and catch a glimpse of what it might take. Because I want to be a dad someday. The same way I want to be a husband someday, and I'm trying to find out all that it will take to be a great one.

There she is. I'm thankful for her friendship. I'm thankful that I've been able to learn from her without her even knowing it. I'm thankful that she always reminds me to have faith like a child.

We can't forget to slow down. To open our eyes and see what's around us. What or who can we learn from? And how can we get that knowledge to our hearts?

More to come- J

kitchen tables

I've been going to my church for about 7 months now and I've met some amazing people and friends. The majority of whom live on the northside of OKC, because that's where our church is. There are others who live on the southside of OKC. And I live somewhere in the middle near downtown. When I started going to church there I quickly noticed how all of the northsiders would continually lobby for everyone else to move to the north side. 

I thought it was so annoying. I thought, why the heck does it matter where we live? We come to church. We meet up to hangout. We have plenty of "community". Really, what is 25 minutes of driving time?

That was 2 months in and there was this part of me that used to think everyone was out to get me. That the northsiders could only want us to move there for self serving reasons. It wasn't anything they did, but just my own struggle to trust people and see things for what they are. It's something I'm learning how to do with each new day.

Today, is 7 months though. And last night I helped one of my best friends move some of her things from the south side of OKC, to the north side of OKC. Really, I wasn't much help. She had been moving things all day and I just went by after work to see how it was going. However, one of the things she did need help moving was a table and four chairs. Jacob and his wife Brittany now live in the neighborhood just across the street, so they met up with us and we carried the table up the stairs to her new apartment. It was late and most of us had worked all day and then worked more at the church for a good portion of that night. But despite being exhausted and not having eaten lunch or dinner we freed the table and chairs from their protective plastic coverings with a couple car keys and a grueling effort, because it was her new apartment and first table and four chairs to purchase all on her own.

With the exception of this new table the apartment was still empty. There was nothing on the walls and no other furniture. No pretty pictures and no throw pillows or candles. We put the chairs around the table, but we didn't sit in them. Jacob sat on the floor and Brittany eventually sat down close to him. I love that she wants to be close to him. Mackenzie and I just stood there and took a deep breath. The girls said how "pretty" the table looked. We talked about having dinner at her table. And filling her apartment with people and life. I'm pretty sure we were all exhausted and ready to go home, but we just looked at the table for a little bit. It was in this moment I realized, all of the northsiders wanted us to move closer, because they wanted us to come to the table. 

The table gives life and it pushes us. It's where we talk and listen. It's where we fight and make up. It's where we dream and get focused. Where we eat together and play cards. It's where we cry and forgive. I think about the last supper and the disciples asking Jesus where he wanted to eat the Passover, and Jesus told them about a man in a city, who had a house...with a table. Jesus said to go there, and he would meet them and eat the Passover. Most of us know those verses and the discussions that took place. But I love that the disciples had to find a table, it was time to engage. Jesus didn't lead them onto the water in that moment, or atop a scenic mountain with a star covered sky. He wanted them to come to the table.

I think a lot of times the table gets drowned out by everything else in our houses or apartments, and our lives. We decorate the entire place and surround it with so much stuff. There are so many other things to look at. We pile junk on the table and use it for storage. If we happen to sit at the table we turn the TV on. We complain of being too busy. And if we're being honest, we don't like what the table brings. It causes us to slow down. It causes us to focus on each other. It causes us to talk. The table says, it's time to engage. And it's not the table that's significant, it's the opportunity. The opportunity for community, for relationship, for doing life with people who love you.

So a 25 minute drive may sound insignificant, and we may still hang out with the northsiders all the time. But what I've started to realize is it's better to live at the table than visit it. It's awesome to live across the street from your best friends and go to each others' houses and eat each others' food like it's your home, because it is. In case you're wondering, I still live in midtown, but I think sooner than later I'll be moving to the table.

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful,

committed citizens can change the world.

Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.

Margaret Mead

More to come- J 

 

you know what time it is

Sup everyone. Have you heard the news? I caved. I'm on the line...Exchange O Gram...it's completely different than Instagram. But really, after holding out for a couple years I finally joined Instagram, and it makes me think of the Internship every time. So enjoy the clip.

I guess this blog is more about how I ended up "on the line."

If you follow the Blog at all you know I'm coming up on a year of living in Oklahoma City. My first year as an attorney is almost over. My first year dealing with all the joys of being an adult has come to pass- it has been a year hard fought. I graduated law school in Florida and moved back to Oklahoma. I love Oklahoma. My dad was a judge in Tulsa for 20+ years so I have ties to the legal community. Most of my family lives in Oklahoma and Kansas. I had every reason to justify the move home. However, I had a best friend and girlfriend of 3+ years...who was in Oklahoma. I told her I wasn't moving home for her, more than once or a hundred times. I told everyone I wasn't moving home for her. The truth is...I moved home for her. It's interesting how at the time it seemed more risky to tell her I was moving for her than to actually move across the country with no promise of a job. I moved, and nothing turned out like we planned. Being an attorney is nothing like watching Suits. It's demanding, and it drains you. And it flat out kicked my ass. I suffered as a person, my relationships suffered, my faith suffered. Somehow it brought every impurity  in my life and past to the surface...like a fire. My girlfriend and I broke up. Actually, my girlfriend broke up with me. Mostly because I was a miserable person to be around. I had no friends. No church. No faith. No girlfriend. And a job that I was sinking in.

I know, am I done feeling sorry for myself yet. I'm not the first to experience it, and I won't be the last. But that doesn't make it easier for anyone. After all of that I just had this time with God, because really I had nothing left. For the first time in my life I was picking a fight with Him. I told Him how I really felt about all the things that had happened in my life. I told him I was pissed. I told him I didn't understand. I think he had been waiting for a long time to hear those things. To hear me be honest. And eventually, when God thought I was ready, I bumped into my church. I met new friends and new family.

I can't help but think about how different things are from a year ago. How God brought me to the perfect church at the perfect time. But I still had a choice to make. I could attend church and love it and enjoy the friends I had made. Which is great, and that's ideal...grow spiritually and live in community. But for me, it can't stop there. Not anymore. I had to get some skin in the game.

Joan of Arc is one of my favorite people in history. If you don't know much about her you should just Google her name. She was an uneducated peasant girl in fifteenth century France who had all odds against her and persisted to fight for what she believed was right. She led the French Army to several victories before she was captured by the enemy, betrayed by her own, and eventually burned at the stake. By the time she was 16 she had proclaimed herself the virgin warrior sent by God to deliver France from the English, and said that she received counsel from angels for three years. Since Joan was human she protested to God for some time, but she knew what God was telling her. And eventually, she undertook the quest that she had been prepared for.

She was feverish in her determination to succeed at what was, by anyone's measure, a preposterous mission. She knew not how to ride or lead in war; and yet she roused an exhausted, under equipped and impotent army into a fervor that carried it from one unlikely victory to the next. Defying the cautious strategies of seasoned generals to follow inaudible directions from invisible beings. - Kathryn Harrison

That pulls at everything inside of me. It makes me want to save little kids in Uganda or young girls in Cambodia. Maybe even run through a brick wall. I love that she rose to the occasion. She went against the grain. She told war generals and veterans they were wrong. She rode into war with only a flag declaring "Party of the Kingdom of Heaven." The doubters doubt. They say she was crazy and believe she had symptoms of schizophrenia, epilepsy, or tuberculosis. Stories are told about her praying for and healing little children and her prayer for the wind to rise up when her boats' sails had stalled at sea.

One Wednesday at church when I was 7 years old I went up for prayer with my mom. You don't remember much from when you're 7, but I remember this. I'm pretty sure I just followed her up, because that's what 7 year old's do. I didn't know why we were going up for prayer, but I remember being prayed for, and I remember when it was over. My mom asked me what I thought. I told her I was supposed to be a youth pastor. It just makes me laugh. I don't think I had told anyone that story until about 2 months ago. I suppose there are many reasons I held it in.

I'm still not a youth pastor.

However, starting this fall I am the college and young adults pastor. It took 19 years, a bachelors in psychology, and a law degree; here's to taking the long route. But here I am. Lawyering during the day and doing things in whatever capacity I need to at the church by night. We're a young church, and we don't have hundreds of college kids yet. But we have this vision. I have this vision.

I don't know what's going to happen from here, but it felt a little bit crazy when I was sitting there with the pastors in our church and the head pastor looked at me and said "You're a pastor now!" and looked at them and said "He's a pastor now!" I felt like he was a little crazy because I've never been to bible college or seminary. But I also felt like I had been waiting 19 years to hear those words.

This blog isn't about you becoming a pastor, or how hard the past year was. It's not about quitting your job or changing your major. It's not about where you're going this summer or who you're going to marry. It's about getting some skin in the game. Whatever game in this life you find yourself in. It's time to get up and go. There's things to be done. Places to go. People to love. It's time to join the worship team. It's time to be the youth pastor. It's time to invite your co-worker to church. It's time to mail your friends handwritten thank you's because sometimes technology just doesn't suffice. It's time to make the call. It's time to do what is hard. It's time to just do something.You know better than I do what's on your heart, but it's time.

"Extravagant love isn't satisfied just dangling its feet over the water in people's lives; it grabs its knees and does a cannonball." - Bob Goff

This is how I ended up on Instagram. Even though I think it's ridiculous. Even though I never take pictures. I do now because all the high school kids do. Because all the college kids do. And I want to cannonball into their world and not dangle my feet or take the stairs into the water.

Joan once said "I'm not afraid, I was born to do this." - she had some skin in the game. I want to be that feverish and I want to be that preposterous. It's time.

More to come- J

Mouthwash and Cabbage

Sup everyone. I've decided if I ever get paid to write a blog I'm still going to say, "Sup everyone". But I digress.

 On Sunday at church (www.faithchurch.me) we talked about the 4th a little, and prayer a lot. My pastor shared a story about Richard Henry Lee. Maybe some of you have heard of him? I hadn't. So I did some research also. I'm sure every history buff knows of him, but he doesn't get much street cred. Richard Henry Lee did a lot of increidble things as Politician and Activist in the 1700's: as a member of Virginia's House he publicly spoke out aginast slavery and put the highest tax on slavery anyone had ever seen (keep in mind this is 1759...and at the time actions like this were putting your life on the line), he co-authored the Westmoreland Resolves which became a book of sorts speaking out against the Crown in a major way for the first time, and my favorite thing he did was unite the colonies in their fight for freedom by creating the Committee of Correspondence, which basically compelled the colonies to work as one and share information and resources as the fight for freedom moved forward. He saw something that everyone wanted, everyone was fighting for in their own way, and he brought them together. I love it.

 However, Richard Henry Lee is best known for the Resolution of Independence he submitted to Congress, which eventually led to the Declaration of Independence. It's often called the movement that set the train in motion. It turns out Richard Henry Lee also loved Jesus. In 1775 he was part of the first national day of prayer. And a little over a year later he was presenting the Bill to Congress that would change the world forever. What most don't know is that leading up to the presentation of that Bill, Richard Henry Lee prayed and fasted for 7 days straight. I can't really imagine what his prayers might have been. I'm sure he had a dream. I'm sure he knew a little of what was at stake. But everything I've learned about stories tells me that he probably didn't know he was in such a great story. We usually don't. I'm not sure why. But I now know Richard Henry Lee prayed furiously before presenting that Bill.

 Last week I was talking with a co-worker. He's Muslim, and he was telling me that Ramadan is about to start. It started today actually. He will be fasting from sun up to sun down for the next 30 days. Yeah, 30 days. No food. No water. Just mouthwash every couple hours because the stomach acid makes your breath smell like rotten cabbage. This blog isn't a debate about the difference between Islam and Christianity. But talking with him certainly stirred something in my heart as it relates to my faith. I've fasted. For one day a week. Or one meal a day. Or maybe fasted Facebook or some other nonsenical thing. Maybe those all count, I don't think there are "rules." I know at certain times in the Old Testament God commanded his people to fast. In the New Testament there is no "requirement" to fast that I know of, but like prayer and worship it draws us closer to the Lord. In Luke 5 Jesus tells the disciples that His followers will fast "when the bridegroom is no longer with them." That's now. Physically speaking at least.

 There are so many things going on in my life and the lives of those I love. So many decisions to be made. Maybe all the crossroads we're at aren't that big of a deal. Maybe it doesn't matter if we pray or fast because God is soverign and all will just work out. But maybe they are a huge deal. Maybe the outcome of all these decisions people I love are making will change the world forever. Maybe these decisions will change the direction of a family lineage for generations to come. Maybe they will result in a future president of the U.S. Maybe it's a school in Cambodia. A Priscilla and Aquilla tent building Paul training type team. Or maybe they create a Committee of Correspondence in the sex trafficking industry that changes everything. Maybe one family staying together could change the world for 500,000 or a million families, or maybe just one other family.

 When Jesus was overwhelmed with the crowds and exhausted from everything he went to pray and fast. He went away. So did many others in the bible. When crazy and overwhelming things were happening they went and did whatever it took to be closer to the Father. I don't know what's going to happen with so many situations in my life right now. But I know I can pray bold prayers. I can pray for the people I love to have wisdom. For truth to be spoken into their lives. That they would have courage to listen and move. To live by what they know and not what they feel. For restoration and forgiveness. For healing. And that I would have and do the same. I can pray expectently and mean it and stand on it.

 I guess you could say my prayer life has been challenged. I talk to Jesus more than ever these days, but still, something in me is stirring and unsettled knowing that more is available. I have a sense of urgency. Richard Henry Lee fasted and prayed for 7 days before presenting a bill that would change the world, forever. A Muslim friend and co-worker is fasting because, well I don't really know? Is that too honest? I suppose because he's focusing on his faith. He's denying himself something vital, to focus on another. I can't say he's doing it for the same reason as Christians. But he's doing it.

 It is interesting, because well, Jesus died on the cross so we didn't have to. We don't have to sacrifice ourselves or animals. We don't have to suffer to be in right standing with God. But I don't think this is about suffering. I think this is about loving. We have to choose to love God. And sometimes. Most of the time. Loving involves sacrifice. Sometimes we have to tell Him I want more of you no matter the cost. I want more of you more than I want food or water or sleep or Facebook or money or clothes or the mission trip or the girl.

 We want to experience His love and His presence. In the midst of America, our family, or relationships hanging in the balance. We want more of Him. I think that's the reason to fast and pray.

I don't have it all figured out, and I'm not saying I'm going 40 days without food. I'm saying I want more of Him, and I'm learning how to sacrifice.

 More to come.

Baseball, Family, and Mama Rojas

I'm learning that most of the time God gives us people. Regardless of what we're going through, praying for, or think we "need." Maybe it's because God knows people have stories. And every single one of us desires to be part of a story, whether we know it or not. God doesn't just give us anyone. He's intentional about it. He's thought it out. Mindfully crafted friendships to impact our hearts with only one goal in mind. Drawing us closer to Himself.

I've become more aware of this over the past month while I've been playing in a baseball league in the City and reliving the glory days of college. I have so much fun. There's something unexplainable about playing baseball on a perfect summer day and spitting sunflower seeds at shortstop. But even more fulfilling than that is the little Sunday routine my friends and I have developed. We go to church, go to lunch, go to the pool, and then I leave the pool early to go to my game. However, more often than not I look up from shortstop in the third inning and see my friends walking up the bleachers. It might seem lame. It might seem insignificant. But it tells me I matter. They could be doing anything with their Sunday afternoon and they pick me. They pick me at worn down fields all over Oklahoma City in a men's baseball league that doesn't matter to anyone else. They bring me drinks and sunflower seeds. They yell "HASSSSSSS"  when I make a play in the field or get up to bat. They wave their arms like in Angels In The Outfield.

I love every second of it.

When the game is over they're waiting for me and I give them all big sweaty dirt covered hugs. We go to Mama Rojas and have dinner together. Just celebrating life really. We make friends with our waiter, John, Sean John. Because that's what we do. We meet people and we invite them in. And every Sunday night I drive home thinking about this family I have. It's like any other family. We argue. We get sick of each other. We hurt each other's feelings. But we're family.

This morning I discovered one of the members of this family has a blog. She just started it, June of 2013. I think it's so cool when people I know start blogging. Not because it's cool. Or because they're cool. But because they're making art. And her blog was and is incredible. Maybe I think that because I think so highly of her. But I'm convinced that's not the reason. She can write, I'm sure of it. She came into this family not long after I did. I've been slowly learning about her and from her ever since. I guess at some point recently I looked up and realized she's one of my best friends. I know I can talk to her about anything, or not even say a word and she still understands. I think she knows this, but I should probably tell her.

People. God sends us people who have stories. People who want and need to tell their stories. Stories that we can learn from and people that will be part of our stories, and us theirs.

After reading her blog on Facebook this morning I was just going to repost it, but the caption for the post kept getting longer and longer. And now it's a blog. I suppose this is a little bit of a follow up to my last post, but that's okay. I'm thankful for Sundays. For this family of friends. For their stories. That they are with me, either way.

Her name is Mackenz, and I'm so thankful for her, and that I get to learn from her. She has a story worth sharing and this is where she's telling it:

www.MackenzieBorden.blogspot.com

I think everyone should read it.

More to come.

Two Red Bandannas and a VW Bug

Not long ago I read the book Love Does by Bob Goff. It's incredible. I think every single person should read it. Often times I'm guilty of reading a book so quickly that I don't slow down and really let things resonate in my heart. I get fired up with every chapter, story and paragraph. So I love to go back and revisit the chapters of a book. I don't necessarily re-read the book in order again. I just peruse the chapters like I'm scrolling through the archives of my favorite blog. This is what I'm learning...

"I had a down vest, two red bandannas, a pair of rock climbing shoes, seventy-five dollars, and a VW Bug. What else did I need?" - BG

Bob tells this story. About a boy named Bob (yes himself). He was a junior in high school. Bob decided at the end of his junior year it was time to be done with high school and time to move to Yosemite Park and climb mountains and live out his dream.

While Bob was in high school he became great friends with a Young Life counselor. He was Bob's mentor. Bob wasn't completely sure about Jesus, be he knew there was something different about the counselor. Something about the way the counselor was interested in his life. Something about the way the counselor would give up his time for Bob. If nothing else, Bob knew most people just didn't do that kind of thing.

Bob thought he'd stop by the counselor's house and tell him he was skipping town. Bob knocked on the front door and told the counselor about his great plan to drop out of high school and live out his dream in the mountains. The counselor disappeared inside momentarily and came back with a backpack, a sleeping bag under his arm, and four words,

"Bob, I'm with you."

Bob recounts the Counselor's words, "Something in his words rang right through me. He didn't lecture me about how I was blowing it and throwing opportunities away by leaving high school. He didn't tell me I was a fool and that my idea would fall of the tracks on the way to the launchpad. He didn't tell me I would surely crater even if I did briefly lift off. He was resolute, unequivocal, and had no agenda. He was with me."

The two headed to the mountains in the beat up VW Bug, stole a night at the camping grounds, and failed miserably on their first day of attempting to find Bob a job in the small town. Bob briefly lost hope until the ccounselor reminded him "Bob, you can do this thing if you want. You have the stuff it takes to pull it off. These guys don't know what they're missing. Let's try a few more places. Either way, Bob, I'm with you."

The next day the friends struck out on the job search again. Bob was out of money. And after a long silence coming to the conclusion that going back home to finish high school was the thing to do. The counselor told him "Man, whatever you decide, just know that either way I'm with you, Bob."

I'm with you. This compels me over and over.

Every one of us makes big decisions in our lives. We decide what sports to play in high school. What college to attend. What our major will be. Where we'll live. Who we'll marry. What job to take. Who comes and goes from our lives. What church to attend. What house to buy. Everyone in our life seems to have an opinion on these things. Sometimes these opinions can pull us in a thousand different directions. Sometimes these opinions drown out our hearts. But is the outcome of these things really the question?

When I read the bible I don't always see people getting answers. When I pray I don't always get answers. However, I do see we are offered peace. And it comes from God being with us. Isn't that what He promises? He will never leave nor forsake us?

"I learned that faith isn't about knowing all of the right stuff or obeying a list of rules. It's something more, something more costly because it involves being present and making a sacrifice." -BG

I think about the important decisions I've made in my life. My biggest joy's and my biggest scars. They all come down to one thing, who was present. Who looked at me and said, either way, I'm with you. Who sacrificed to be present. Who drove too many hours. Spent too much money. And didn't get enough sleep. Who skipped the meeting. Figured out the plans. Didn't turn in the homework just to sit with you. Who bought the plane ticket. Who moved across the country. Who jumped for joy when your team scored the winning run. Who surprised you a day early. Who planned a night of theatre when 3 years of schooling was hanging in the balance. Who skipped the concert. Who missed the graduation. Who didn't make the trip for homecoming. Who sat and listened. Who always answered the call. Who didn't give up when your heart was withering away. Who danced when the movie was over. Who didn't dance in the rain. Who was at the big game. Who yelled at you when you struck out. Who picked you up on the worst night of your life.

Who was present.

The people who love you are present. Those people sacrifice over and over. They have no agenda. They don't have a stake in the outcome. They look at you and say, I'm with you, infinity times out of infinity. When you identify those friends, those family members, that person...you will be present. And they won't be perfect. And someone in those relationships will always lose heart. But when the time comes that you're standing there with two red bandannas and a VW Bug, you'll get a look that says, I'm with you. When you don't deserve it. When I can't understand. And regardless of the outcome.

"The world can make you think that love can be picked up at a garage sale or enveloped in a Hallmark card. But the kind of love that God created and demonstrated is a costly one because it involves sacrifice and presence. It's a love that operates more like a sign language than being spoken outright." - BG

What you don't know is that Bob showed up on the counselor's door step the day after the counselor's wedding. We don't find out, but I'd imagine the counselor's wife was immediately disappointed when her new husband said he was leaving on their first weekend together for some high school kid. I'd also imagine she quickly realized exactly why she said, yes.

Who are we with? What are we sacrificing to love them?

More to come.

This Is Why I Write

Awhile back I posted a blog for the first time in a long time. I talked about why people blog. Why I blog. Every now and then I like to go back to that. Why I have a blog. Why I write. Why I don't write. It keeps me up to date.

"It took three attempts but, after hours of pacing and fidgeting, I had a good writing session. The fight was to get back into my heart."- Donald Miller

Sup everyone? I know, what a lame greeting. Somehow I always say "sup". I'm sure that's not cool anymore, if it ever was. But it's what comes. Sup. I like to pretend I have thousands and thousands of people waiting for my next blog and now I'm greeting all of you again. In reality I probably have less than three people waiting for my next blog. I'm okay with that. It doesn't change my dream of writing, and it doesn't mean 40 or 50 of you won't randomly stumble across this on social media and actually click on the link. And Sometimes, you only care what one person thinks of your blog.

It's funny how this works. I often set out to write about one thing and end up writing on another. It's my favorite part. There are no rules. Nobody is grading it. It can't be put in a box. I have a blank page to say what I need to say. To say what is burning inside of me.

"Most great art is created when the artist feels they are channeling something rather than trying to communicate something."- Donald Miller

I used to think in a well written blog the author never talked about themselves. It had to be inspirational, but generic and have the ability to "communicate" to every single person. Now I know, real people are dying to hear a story. Real people are dying to take off their masks and tell their stories. Now THAT applies to everyone.That's why I love Donald Miller so much. He talks about himself a lot in his books, but it's so raw and so open, and that's a risk. Deep down it's what we're all craving and too fearful or prideful to reveal.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us;
It's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we're liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

- Marianne Williamson

That's my goal.

I don't give a play by play of my life, like a long Facebook status update of what I had for breakfast or where I went on vacation. I don't spout off emotions in the moment I'm hurting the most. But I do try to be as open as possible and share my shortcomings and successes in whatever I happen to be blogging about. Because even if you don't want to know, someone else does.

A few weeks ago I had a chance to add to my story with one of my best friends. We had both gone through some rough times in the past year and although he was living in Florida and I in Oklahoma, we committed to being there for each other during this season we found ourselves wondering if we'd make it one more day. We prayed. We talked about Jesus. We talked about basketball.We talked about girls. During this time we became better friends than we already were. It was almost like we were on an island together. We discovered that neither of us had ever been baptized, and neither of us had really told anyone. While we had both been saved for a pretty long time, baptism just never happened for a ton of reasons. At first it was out of our control. We didn't grow up in families that would be taking pictures of us on "Baptism Sunday." But later, we weren't obedient. We shrank back. I know for me, I never wanted to be found out. I had this reputation, I had been in leadership positions in ministry. It was just another area in my life I had held onto controlling for so long.

When we're not risking, we're living in fear. So I bought a plane ticket and I flew to Florida to be baptized with one of my best friends. By my mentor. In the ocean. I'll never forget it as long as I live. My entire group of friends from Florida had no idea until that trip. For me, that was a risk. And for me there was never more joy in being found out than standing on the beach praying with all of them before I walked into the water.
 
So this is why I write, because stories aren't just inspiring or heartwarming. Stories aren't just sad or happy. Stories aren't entertaining or compelling. Sometimes it's my story, and sometimes it's someone else's. But the words don't just stay on a page or a screen. They can't. Because we've got risks to take. Someone needs permission needs permission to share their story. And sometimes, stories about Jesus, basketball, and girls change your life.

"And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even when faced with death." -Revelation 12:11

Stories have the power to put a beatdown on the devil. To save lives. To buy plane tickets.

This is why I write.

More to come.

Jail and Jobin

Anyone who knows me at all knows I love love. I'm not afraid to admit I'd have no problem watching The Notebook or Pride and Prejudice without being forced to do so by a pretty girl. I've always been a hopeless romantic of sorts. So the ground I was standing on was shaken when I found out I didn't really know what love was. How ironic.

I thought I had clearly distinguished in my mind the difference between loving someone as a person and being "in love." The obvious difference is, romantic feelings and attraction don't exist with every single human. Apart from that, I'm not sure much else is different. We're commanded to "love one another as Christ loved us", and husbands and wives are commanded to love each other "as Christ loved the church"- "us" and "the church" are synonymous, because we (the people) are the church. It's the exact same command. Interesting.

In terms of romance, God gave us this window to "fall in love", which propels us into marriage. It may be physical attraction, emotional connection, similar personalities, or any number of things. But I think the command is the same because God knew what he was doing, obviously. He knew your first 6 months or year of falling couldn't last. It couldn't stay that way. Of course romance should stay alive, and I believe couples have to fight for that. But love will ALWAYS require more than romance, no matter how hard you're swept off your feet.

I heard a story recently. A story of heartbreak, destruction, and redemption. A story about a prominent youth pastor. He was married with little kids. Trusted and loved in the church and community. It turns out he had been struggling with infidelity. Except he wasn't just having an affair. He was paying for sex with male prostitutes. It's kind of hard to describe what you're feeling and the thoughts you're having right now isn't it? I was enraged when I heard the story. Now imagine what his wife must have felt, because I know you and I can't even comprehend it. This youth pastor was arrested while purchasing a male prostitute and was taken to jail. He called his parents with his one phone call and begged them to come pick him up. His parents had a standing rule since he was a teenager. If you get arrested and taken to jail, you're staying there at least 24 hours. I think that's a great life lesson. The youth pastor's dad was now charged with calling the wife and telling her why her husband wasn't coming home. The dad made the phone call and proceeded to tell the wife what had unfolded, and what his policy was on jail. The wife was silent for a short moment, and then said "Go get my husband right now." It wasn't anger. It wasn't abrasive. What it was, was determination. That wife gathered her parents, her husbands parents and her husband in the living room of their home that night. She and her husband sat in the middle of the living room while both sets of parents stared at them. She looked at her parents and said "I have forgiven him and love him, and so will you." She looked at his parents and said the very same thing.

I don't know what their road was like after that night. But I do know that the youth pastor got help. He was accepted by another church, and eventually, given another opportunity to be a youth pastor. His wife never stopped loving him, and never left his side. I also know that night she didn't say "Go get my husband." because she remembered how she felt in the first 6 months of their relationship. She didn't remember the flowers or romantic dinners or even the things he never said. She remembered Jesus, and it had nothing to do with what her husband deserved or didn't deserve, who he had been, or how bad he had failed.

You see, this is what I now know. Love isn't a response. It never will be. Whatever you respond out of, isn't love. You respond out of pleasure, passion, desire, self, emotion, fear. But not love. Love just is. It doesn't waver. It chooses to engage. Love always chooses to find a way to express itself. Regardless of what's returned. It's an invitation over and over again...and this invites the other person in. And everyone wants to be invited.

It wasn't long ago I was going through one of the most difficult times in my life. Everything I thought I knew came crashing down and I was no longer sure of anything. About two months later I met someone I now consider one of my very best friends. We'll call him Jobin. What Jobin gave me was an invitation. Over and over again. He loved me right where I was at. He was present in my life and the story that had begun to unfold. I've learned a lot from Jobin in the short time we've known each other, and I'd like to think he's learned a thing or two from me. What I know about Jobin is that I get his friendship and nothing else. There are no strings attached. Nothing on the other side of the equation. That's how Jesus was. He was present. He gave invitations. And he offered Himself and nothing else.

"The bible says the only weapon any of us really has is love. But it's love like a sword without a handle and because of that, sometimes we'll get cut when we pick it up." - Bob Goff

That sounds risky, like it might even cost me a limb or two. But that's how I want to love. And that's the kind of romance and friendships I want to have. Relationships that involve completely imperfect people who refuse to give up. I don't know if it's a product of current society or if friendships and relationships have always been disposable. But we just throw them away. In the words of the great poet often known as Jay-Z..."Onnnn to the next one." In every form and fashion. In every type of relationship. On to the next one.

I don't know much, but I know that at one point or another we're all in jail like the youth pastor. And everyone thinks it's a good idea if we just stay there for a night or two or they just forget about us. But when love comes into play, the way Christ loved us and how he told us to love one another and our spouses, there's someone that says "go get my husband out of jail", "go get my friend out of jail" - because they just simply refuse to give up.

"Ryan's love was audacious. It was whimsical. It was strategic. Most of all, it was contagious. Watching Ryan lose himself in love reminded me that being "engaged" isn't just an event that happens when a guy gets on one knee and puts a ring on his true love's finger. Being engaged is a way of doing life. It 's about going to extremes and expressing the hope that life offers us, a hope that makes us brave and expels darkness." - Bob Goff

We need more wives breaking their husbands out of jail. We need more Jobin's. I want to love like them. I want to be audacious to the point it doesn't even make sense.

More to come.