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.