Where's your passion?

This past Sunday a friend of a friend visited Faith Church (FaithChurch.me) for the first time. My friend was telling me how this guest was recently saved a couple weeks back. So awesome. We had a chance to catch up after church for a minute and I asked him what he thought about the service.

"Man, it was good. The head pastor, he's pretty passionate huh?"

 He seemed a little surprised. Kind of taken aback. The only thing I could come up with was "Yeah, isn't it refreshing?" I'm not sure exactly what he was thinking, but it got me thinking. About this blog. About Writing. About what it looks like to be a Christian.

All I could think of was when Jesus arrived in Jerusalem where crowds of people were swarming the market places and temple courts shouting "Hosanna in the highest heaven!" But as Jesus arrived at the temple courts the people were buying and selling all kinds of things. Tables were set up where all the money was being taken. Jesus became enraged and overturned tables of money changers and benches of those selling doves. "It is written," he said to them, "My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a den of robbers." (Matthew 21: 12-13)

I wonder what all of those witnesses and townspeople were thinking? Maybe they were confused? Taken aback? Shocked? I don't know for sure. But there's one thing I'm positive they were thinking, "he's pretty passionate huh." After Jesus dominated the temple he called for the blind and lame and he healed them immediately.  I often wonder why Jesus was so outrageous in this moment. I mean, he heals blind and crippled people...I'm pretty sure he could get these dudes to leave the temple without the dramatics. The only thing I can come up with is that Jesus knew what was on the line. Salvation. Eternity. Heaven vs. Hell.

I don't think Jesus was angry in this moment. I think he was passionate. Jesus came into Jerusalem and overturned tables and healed the blind and crippled in the wreckage without an ounce of regard for the pharisees and sadducees looking on. He was passionate about joy and hope and healing. He was passionate about doing whatever it took for people to understand what's hanging in the balance.

Our head pastor was created to preach. And he's doing it passionately. He doesn't hold back. He says what needs to be said. It doesn't always tweet well and it's often more challenging than people are up for on a Sunday morning. I look around and see people with these blank stares on their faces because they've never seen someone bring the word with such urgency. Sometimes I wonder if our pastor ever steps off the platform on a Sunday and is self conscious about how passionate he was. Like maybe just bring it down a notch broski. Maybe there's a message that won't be soooo, uhhh intense. Can't you just get on stage and pet a lamb or something. But then I remember he doesn't care. He has no regard for the pharisees and sadducees of today. He comes busting into Jerusalem and rips the tables over. He knows what's on the line.

I was created to write and I want to write like he preaches and like Jesus preached before him. More than I want to publish a book or post a blog on a popular website. I want to write without regard for anything but proclaiming Jesus. This is one place I do a lot of table turning. I may seem overly zealous and much too intense for your mid day Facebook scroll.  But with every passing day it becomes more clear what's on the line, so forgive me not.

You're no different. You were created for something incredible. Probably a lot of things.What are they? Really, stop and acknowledge what makes you come alive more than anything else. Now go turn some tables over. The world needs much more passion.

friday night lights

I love when a blog is inspired from unexpected things and places. As a writer I always think in terms of this blog. I can't help it. I perceive things a little differently. I observe. I listen. And then so often out of nowhere I'm stirred, and it's time to write.

 I started watching the tv series Friday Night Lights on Netflix (praise the Lord for Netflix) and I haven't been able to stop. I could write so many blogs about this freakin show, but my favorite part about the show is that it's realistic about how hard life is. And it's true, life is just hard. Sometimes it seems hard to simply wake up in the morning. We're faced with heartbreak, sickness, death, disappointment, rejection, abandonment, and who knows how many other things. Everyone faces them. There are no free passes. I think that's why myself, and so many other people relate to Friday Night Lights. I'll be honest, I related to certain aspects of the show so much that it made it really easy for me to feel sorry for myself about things I've gone through in my life. I don't do that often, but sometimes you get to the "when am I going to catch a break" or "when is _________ going to happen" point. The whole "why is this so hard" question.

But I found out it's not just me and you and Tim Riggins who ask these questions. It's Jeremiah, too.

Jeremiah was a prophet, and in Jeremiah 12 we find him crying out and pleading with the Lord, asking why his enemies are thriving when he had been obedient, only to find himself and his family suffering hardship after hardship. See, it's not just me and you who fall on the floor and cry out, "WHY?" "WHY is this so hard?" It's Jeremiah, too. One of the greatest prophets in the bible. He's struggling with his family too. He's struggling with his wife too. Life isn't easy. He doesn't see God's plan come to fruition immediately.

That's all great and comforting and everything. I can relate to Jeremiah. Congratulations me. But God's response to Jeremiah wrecks my perspective. It humbles me. It puts me in awe of God's bigness, and my smallness. God hears Jeremiah cry out about these sufferings in his personal life and responds...

"If you have raced with men on foot, and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses?" -Jeremiah 12:5

It's right there. If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. It's written down. It's been in there for thousands of years, and God is still answering you and me the same way he answered Jeremiah. I know son. I know daughter. It's hard. I'm sorry, and I'm here and I'm preparing you and I'll pull you through. But then God doesn't miss a beat and grabs us by the shoulders and says IF YOU FOLLOW ME, THERE IS MORE. There's more pain and more suffering and more attacks from the devil coming. They're coming and on a scale you've never seen, because you're called. YOU ARE CALLED. You have a purpose and a gift that nobody else can fulfill, which you must unapologetically embrace. And for that you will be a target. When you run with the horses you will face opposition that you must be PREPARED for. God doesn't coddle Jeremiah. He basically says, if you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.

Jeremiah went on to be attacked by his own brothers, beaten and put into the stocks by a priest and false prophet, imprisoned by the king, threatened to death, thrown into a cistern by Judah's officials, and opposed by a false prophet.

God's response to Jeremiah's cry called Jeremiah forth, and he had a decision to make. And we have a decision to make. It's either fall back and retreat when you feel the heat. It's easier. You can manage. You can somehow walk with men for the rest of your life and you'll have the same problems we all do and think life is all about you. Or. Or you can go deeper when you feel the heat. You can grab your problems and your dreams and tenaciously run with the horses where you're called even though you know there will be a price to pay. I don't know what it looks like for you. I don't know where you're called or who you're called to go with. But I do know we are never told it will be easy. We are told it will be hard. Harder than anything we've ever done.

I know that the story God is telling is bigger than each of us. I don't mean to say He doesn't care about our lives and our sufferings. I'm saying, do we even care about His plan? Or just ours? What if His plan looks different than ours? What if the path to the dreams He placed inside of you looks more like imprisonment and opposition before His promise to you is fulfilled? The dreams He gives us are not to make you feel good. They're to tell His story. To spread his Kingdom. Sometimes there's great joy in that, and other times, great suffering. God turns both for good.

So as always, this blog is a prayer, a prayer that we'd learn from Jeremiah. That we'd have the courage to say yes to wherever and whoever we're called despite the heat. That we'd turn our eyes on the God of the entire universe. The God who parts seas and shuts lions mouths and turns water to wine. And may we be reminded of God's promise to Jeremiah over and over as we face life and struggle and those who stand in opposition of where God calls us, "attack you they will, but overcome you they cannot." Because our lives and our stories only matter to the extent we embrace the larger story that God is telling. It's not all about us, and until we realize that, we're just going to exhaust ourselves racing with man, when we're called to run with horses.


More to come - J

in between an army and a red sea

Last Sunday at Faith Church we started a new series on leadership. We're looking at the life of Moses, and taking a walk through Exodus. I openly admit, I don't find myself reading in Exodus very often. But during service I ventured further into the book and read about Moses and Aaron and Pharaoh. You know, the infamous line from Moses and Aaron..." Pharaoh, let my people go!"

I'm sure you know this story. The Israelites have been stuck in slavery in Egypt for 430 years! Egypt and Pharaoh are the largest world power at the time. God calls Moses and Aaron to go set His people free. Moses is far from perfect. He murdered and stuttered and got drunk. But none of those things defined Him, God was too big for that. God saw too much of Moses' heart.

So when God says "GO!"....Moses immediately jumps up and races to Egypt like he's taking on hell with a squirt gun. Okay, I'm lying. Moses basically says...."Me? No chance." "There's no way the Egyptians will listen to me. My own people won't even listen to me." Wait...Moses....nobody told you you're not supposed to say that to God, you are MOSES after all. The star of the Old Testament.

Why does knowing this about Moses make me breathe a little bit easier? Maybe because Moses was so freaking human. The God of the universe is audibly speaking to him, and Moses doubts himself and God. Me too Moses. Me too.

"But the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron again and gave them a charge about the people of Israel and about Pharaoh king of Egypt: to bring the people of Israel out of the land of Egypt." Exodus 6:13

A charge. Man this is getting good. Here we go. The team is in the locker room and the coach gathers them up tight and gives a pregame speech for the ages. The chants start and the players sway back and forth and jump up and down and bang on lockers. At least that's how I picture God and Moses and Aaron.

So off they go to Egypt all jones'd up. But God warns them that Pharaoh's heart will be hardened. In other words...this isn't going to be easy and Pharaoh is going to tell you no. Moses and Aaron get to Egypt, find Pharaoh, and proclaim "Pharaoh, let my people go!" - Pharaoh doesn't. And God says he's going to multiply signs and wonders in the land of Egypt. Apparently to convince Pharaoh to let the Israelites go. In come the infamous plagues...

Water to blood

Frogs cover the land of Egypt

Gnats cover the land of Egypt

Flies cover the land of Egypt

All Egyptian livestock Die

Boils cover Egyptian people and animals

Hail storms pound Egypt

Locusts cover the land of Egypt

Darkness in Egypt for 3 days

Before each plague Moses would say "Pharaoh, let my people go!" And each time Pharaoh responded "no"....the plague would come...and Pharaoh would beg Moses to ask God to remove the plague, and in return Pharaoh claimed he would let the Israelites go. God would remove the plague, and Pharaoh wouldn't let the Israelites go.

Are you exhausted yet? I am.

Finally, there's a tipping point. The Passover. The first born of every Egyptian family is sacrificed, including Pharaoh's. God has Pharaoh's attention now. Pharaoh lets the Israelites go...and they're out of Egypt in a flash.

The Israelites find themselves free. Can you imagine what that must have felt like? They'd been dreaming of that day for a year, or 430. I bet they never thought this day would come. But it's short lived. They're on the banks of the raging Red Sea, and off in the distance they hear Pharaoh's six hundred chariots and hardened heart coming to reclaim his slaves. How could God's faithfulness suddenly disappear? The Israelites cry out "What have you done taking us out of Egypt? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness." Exodus 14:12

Behind them is the greatest army known to man, and in front of them is the Red Sea- two things that the Israelites can't fight against. They're exhausted, broken, hopeless, and seemingly stuck. That's when Moses responds...

"Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent." Exodus 14:13-14

I don't know what's in the deepest part of your heart as you read this. But you've made it this far in the post, and this far in your battle. So if you're exhausted, this is for you. If you were encouraged and jumped and yelled in the locker room, and now the battle has taken its toll, this is for you. If you've waited 1 year or 430 years for your promise, this is for you. If you've been told no, despite many wonders and signs, this is for you. If you've fought, and risked it, and left the comfort of the known for the wilderness, this is for you. This is for you who had your promised land and freedom in your grasp, but you looked up and found yourself between an army and a Red Sea...and you no longer have a will to fight.

This is for all of you. But this is also for me. I don't know how long you've been fighting, but I've been fighting (sometimes valiantly, and sometimes shamefully) for a promise for about 5 years, and I'm tired. Sometimes I wonder if I made the promise up. Maybe it wasn't really God. Maybe all the wonders and signs didn't really happen. It's been a long time, and over the years the promise was attacked, and there has been a lot of hurt because of it. I'm sure this sounds dramatic compared to waiting 430 years. But I don't really care. I'm giving myself permission to embrace the fact that it's not all on my shoulders. It's not all on your shoulders either. It's just not. Maybe now is the time to do nothing but stand firm. Because God sees the Egyptians coming, he sees our battle, and he's fighting for us even when it looks like there's no way out and he completely forgot about us.

Maybe He's about to part the Red Sea, and out of nowhere provide the perfect path.

More to come - J

Settle

My favorite thing to hear people say about my blog is that it's "raw." People tell me a lot of things about this blog. But I get that one most often. Raw. Maybe it's the way I write, my style. Maybe it's the topics I choose. Maybe it's conveying openness in a way that makes people say, "me too." I'm not sure of the exact reason, but it feels true when I hear it. And because of that I don't write to just write. I don't write to make deadlines or pay the bills. I don't write just so people consistently have something to read. Or so I get a certain number of "like's". I don't even write to be insightful or theological. Sometimes I remind myself of this, like now, in front of you all. Blogging for the sake of blogging becomes watered down. And who wants a watered down version of anything.

I can't completely explain it. I may write a blog, or read a blog, and I think "that was really great and insightful and I need to remember those lessons." And then, there are the other blogs. The ones that feel like the Holy Spirit typed them up himself. The words are so alive that they're jumping off the screen and filling you with new life. Line. By. Line. Mark Batterson, author of The Circle Maker, says...

 "The right book in the right hands at the right time can save a marriage, avert a mistake, demand a decision, plant a seed, conceive a dream, solve a problem, and prompt a prayer. That is why I write. And that's why, for me, a book sold is not a book sold; a book sold is a prayer answered. I don't know the name and situation of every reader, but God does, and that's all that matters.”

 

And so, I sat in church yesterday morning and knew it was time to write again. I could feel it inside of me. I say "it", but it was the Holy Spirit. It was like a twilight zone. I kept hearing the same two sentences over and over. And then the same word over and over.

 

"God is for me, he is never against me. Settle this in your heart today." Settle this in your heart. Settle this in your heart. Settle this in your heart.

 

Settle.

 

Settle.

 

Settle.

We all have something we don't understand. Maybe a lot of things. Things that hurt. Things that confuse. Things that don't seem fair. Jesus might have been the only one that knew my heart wasn't settled on Sunday. Why doesn't he just let us hide? Sometimes I just want to hide. But when God says he's for us, he means it. He always runs us down. He doesn't cause us harm, and he doesn't give us everything we want. He see's the big picture, and he goes before us. He turns tragedies and wrong decisions and broken things around and works them all for our good.

  

Every Thursday I get to hang with the Faith Church Young Adults. They're my family. They're really family. It gets messy and we don't always get along, but the common ground is Jesus and that we all adopted each other. A girl in our family lost her husband two years ago. Their son was just a baby at the time. Last Thursday was the 2 year anniversary of her husband's death. A lot of us cried with her. And I prayed over her, the only two things I knew to pray in that moment....that she know this family loves her and is for her, and that her heart would stay soft towards Jesus and she'd know He's for her too. I hadn't heard Sunday's message yet, but that prayer is a little too ironic. There was nothing I could say or do to provide understanding for this girl. But I knew the only way she was going to find joy in the morning was to settle it. God is for her. We are for her.

I don't have all the answers for how we get here. Especially when it doesn't feel like God is for us. Or when it doesn't feel like God knows what he's doing. It doesn't feel settled when we don't understand.

 

"We shouldn't act surprised, when we don't understand what a God who says He passes all understanding is doing with our lives." - Bob Goff

 

Our pastor said some other things I'm sure, but this is all I heard. This and something about an Escalade, maybe. Regardless, God is for us, and if we haven't settled that in our hearts we will never move forward. We'll continue to question his goodness. His holiness. His grace. His plans. His timelines. We'll doubt the future. The next step. We'll question the calling and the vision. There are no buts. No exceptions. This has to be done. So let these words be a prayer over your life. Let them reach out and shake you to your core. It's time to settle this in your heart.

More to come- J

 

 

 

 

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.