you know what time it is

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm still not a youth pastor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come- J

Mouthwash and Cabbage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 More to come.

Baseball, Family, and Mama Rojas

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

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

I love every second of it.

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

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

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

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

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

www.MackenzieBorden.blogspot.com

I think everyone should read it.

More to come.

Two Red Bandannas and a VW Bug

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

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

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

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

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

"Bob, I'm with you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who was present.

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

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

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

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

More to come.

This Is Why I Write

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Marianne Williamson

That's my goal.

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

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

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

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

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

This is why I write.

More to come.

Jail and Jobin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come.

Radioactive

Do you ever stop and think about what it means to be alive? That it's a miracle all by itself. Maybe that's a little nostalgic, but with the nostalgia comes perspective, and we could all use more of that.

Recently I was invited to a concert by some friends. However, the concert was on a Tuesday night. In a different city. Of course I wasn't going. I'd have to work 13 hours the next day, and I'd be exhausted from the 13 I just worked. I shrugged the invite off, but couldn't move past it over the next week. So I did the only logical thing....I went.

"Back then I'd be lying in bed or walking down a hallway at college, and the realization I was alive would startle me, as though it had come up from behind and slammed two books together. We get robbed of the glory of life because we aren't capable of remembering how we got here."-Unknown

 How quickly we forget the Psalmist David's words...

"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139 13-16 ESV

That's how we got here. You and me. With a purpose. We have always been seen by the only eyes that truly matter. There has never been a day when we haven't been known. "O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar." Psalm 139 1-2 ESV. He knows us, when we're on our knees proclaiming our love for him. Or when we're running from him as fast and far as we can.

There I was, at the concert. In a packed arena. On the front row of seats looking out at a mob of young people in the pit just in front of me. The guys high fiving and the girls slowly shifting their dresses back and forth.Waiting with great foretaste for the sounds of the newest indie rock sensation of sorts. The first guitar was amplified, and an outcry of monumental triumph quickly followed.

I could only think, what if people worshiped Jesus that way. Not just at a Hillsong or Jesus Culture concert. That's vastly limiting the meaning of worship. I'm talking about a life of worship. Living life with that kind of anticipation of the Lord. I found myself completely unable to enjoy the moment. But as the band kept playing I was distracted by how talented they were. Every single one of them was playing multiple instruments. Even two instruments at a time. Five or Six different types of drums. Guitars. Keyboards. Gongs. Tambourines. The madness was magnificent.

"When you are born you wake slowly to everything. Your brain doesn't stop growing until you turn twenty-six, God is slowly turning the lights on, and you're groggy and pointing to things saying circle and blue and car and then sex and job and health care. The experience is so slow you could easily come to believe life isn't that big of a deal, that life isn't staggering. What I'm saying is I think life is staggering and we're just used to it."- Donald Miller

In that moment life became staggering again. I was suddenly aware of how incredibly talented each member of this band was, and how the noise they were making, was what we call music. God had given each of them the ability and skill set to make 15,000 people stand to their feet and scream at the top of their lungs. That's staggering. The bible tells us that God is in everything. I was marveled by God in that moment. Even if it wasn't a Phillips Craig & Dean concert.

I played baseball in undergrad and before every practice and game we would pray as a team. There was one particular guy on the team whom everyone always gave a hard time after he prayed. His prayers took forever. He would say how thankful he was for the day. The trees. The birds. Baseball. His teammates. The weather. It always made us laugh. Maybe it was overboard. But when I think about it....life must have been so incredible to him that he just couldn't overlook all these little things. He was alive and it wasn't because of a temporary happiness. The joy that he knew, was staggering.

Because that's what God does, he loves to make us marvel at his glory, if we only stop to recognize the ways that he is trying to tell us how much he loves us. When it's not just another Oklahoma sunset in our eyes. When we stand in the rain in our favorite clothes. When we have the opportunity to listen to someones story. And the chance to tell them ours. When everything falls apart and you watch God put it back together piece by piece by piece. When we give of ourselves, and unexpectedly receive. When we end up at an unexpected concert with unexpected company.

There's no explanation other than he loves us. Since before we were born. And right where we are at today. Life is staggering, don't miss it.

I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones...welcome to the new age.

Give it a listen. It's the jam.

More to come.