The REAL You

You are not your sin; sin is no longer the truest thing about the man who has come into union with Jesus. Your heart is good. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you” (Ezek. 36:26). The Big Lie in the church today is that you are nothing more than “a sinner saved by grace.” You are a lot more than that. You are a new creation in Christ. The New Testament calls you a saint, a holy one, a son of God. In the core of your being you are a good man. Yes, there is a war within us, but it is a civil war. The battle is not between us and God; no, there is a traitor within us who wars against our true heart fighting alongside the Spirit of God in us:

A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death . . . Anyone, of course, who has not welcomed this invisible but clearly present God, the Spirit of Christ, won’t know what we’re talking about. But for you who welcome him, in whom he dwells . . . if the alive-and-present God who raised Jesus from the dead moves into your life, he’ll do the same thing in you that he did in Jesus . . . When God lives and breathes in you (and he does, as surely as he did in Jesus), you are delivered from that dead life. (Rom. 8:2, 9–11 The Message)

The real you is on the side of God against the false self. Knowing this makes all the difference in the world. The man who wants to live valiantly will lose heart quickly if he believes that his heart is nothing but sin. Why fight?

(Wild at Heart , 144–45)

I know many people might not agree with everything John Eldridge has written, but I feel like this rings very true, both as the predominating misconception in the church and also as the life-giving truth, like shackles falling off or a moment of realization, that the world is not as you thought it was—in a good way.

When you read that excerpt, what do you think? How do you react to the idea that maybe you are not sinful at your core? That your flesh, your "sin nature" has been kicked off the throne of your heart and is now an enemy within the gates, trying to deceive and tempt you, but is not you? Does that give you a sense of hope, of freedom?

The yellow flag that many Christians might raise, is to caution against being prideful or thinking we are good apart from God. But that is precisely why I think Eldridge's statements are so needed. We are so afraid of being prideful, which is sinful, that we balk at the idea of saying we are "good". Jesus Himself reserved that for God, didn't He? (context, context, context! Jesus was God! He WAS good. If Jesus wasn't good, then He wasn't God, so that's clearly not the explicit point He was making. We have to be careful with stuff like that...) However, somehow, through being born again by the Spirit of God, of being united with Jesus in His death, resurrection and ascension, we are not the same as we were before. We are not unchanged. Being a Christian means precisely, in some intangible way, that the Spirit of the Living God has made its residence in us, and we are one with Him (not in a pantheistic way, in which we ARE God—we are no longer separated from communing with God because of our sin). So, it is not to say, Christ saved us from our sin, and now, on our own, we are good and are capable of earning entrance to heaven or anything like that. I think we need to process that they go together... If we truly believe that we have become a new creation in Christ, that the old has passed away, that we have been crucified with Christ and He now lives in us and through us, that the Living God has taken up residence in our hearts, our inner being, then in that union, if that has happened and cannot be arbitrarily turned on and off, then who we are has fundamentally and irreversibly changed. We are now beloved and adopted sons and daughters of God, capable of walking in unity with the Spirit of our Loving Father.

The biggest area that seems to be affected by this line of thinking is in the area of my thoughts. If I still believe, contrary to so much of what the New Testament clearly teaches about what happens in the conversion process of salvation and redemption, that I am sinful at my core, then suddenly the thoughts I have and the feelings I have are untrustworthy. I have no way of discerning internally what is from God, from me or the devil. It creates a never-ending self-contempt that keeps me in a prison of second-guessing every decision, every thought. Because even if I think a decision is good or wise, in that framework, I am deceitful and wicked and can't trust my own motivations. How can we live that way? How can we live by the Spirit or find the kind of life-giving freedom that brings hope, faith and love, if we believe our sinful core is so incapable of being good? The only way that could happen would be for God to absolutely override our actions and decisions, like He was controlling a puppet or robot, not a living human who He created with the freedom and capacity to love Him in return in the first place.

I think a lot of my experience in church growing up had this wrong, unfortunately. What are your thoughts, blog readers? Is there merit in clinging to a concept of inner depravity, even after becoming a Christian? Is there deep dangers in letting go of that idea?

God With Us

Tonight I went with my parents to their church's Christmas Eve service, which was beautiful. My mom played in the handbell choir and the music was angelic, really. The responsive readings were entrenched with the gospel message, of the true meaning of Christmas, of how God became man to dwell among us and save us from our sin. The songs—classic carols and other sacred choral arrangements—were played and sung with a sacred reverence, filling the dimly, candle-lit room. Everything was very well done. The Dramatic Contemplation (read "skit") was thought-provoking and humorous, a perfect segue into the pastor's Christmas sermon. It really was a nice Christmas Eve service.

I understand that different people have different tastes and preferences, when it comes to forms of worship and church services. Some prefer traditional liturgies while others prefer upbeat and modern expressions. As the Christmas Eve service was ending, though, I was less concerned about the mode of Christmas worship, and more fixated with wondering if, in the midst of all the beautiful tradition and call to celebrate Christmas for the right reasons, people were missing it. I'm not saying that in an accusatory way. I just wonder if the people attending the Christmas Eve service knew and believed that God likes them. That they are special to Him. And that that's why Christ came. Immanuel. God with us. God with us, because we are special to Him. It's easy to say God came to save us from our sin and the eternal consequences of that. That's true. But when we stop there, and only articulate our sinfulness and God's salvation, it can tend to leave us with a guilt-ridden obligation to feel thankful. It can make the "message of Christmas" one of guilt and shame and re-doubling our efforts to be more thankful and to sin less. This really isn't intended to point fingers or anything. I'm just becoming increasingly aware that in the midst of the way we communicate the gospel, we sometimes fail to articulate as faithfully as we do our sinfulness and God's great mercy, the deep love that God has for us, that motivated Him to set His redemption plan in motion in the Incarnation of His Son that Christmas morning two thousand years ago (or so) in the first place.

Jesus came to save us from our sin. Not because that's His job. Not because God is love and therefore had to save us even though He'd rather not. It was His deep enjoyment of us that motivated Him. The Father doting on His beloved children, to give them the best and make a way for them to be with Him, to enjoy His love unhindered forever. The Incarnation shows us that God wants to be with us, so He came to us, when our sin had kept us from Him. He loved us first, He initiated.

And so, to bring this back around, I just wonder and hope that, in the midst of the very beautifully performed and orchestrated Christmas Eve service, everyone there understands the deep reality behind this time of year. That the Christmas songs aren't just words, aren't just traditions for the month of December. That "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" is not just some secret code-phrase for the those of us not sucked into our culture's commercialization of the holiday.

May we pause tomorrow and remember that God is with us. May we take some time in the midst of the present-opening, carol-singing and family-visiting to consider with renewed focus what it really means that Jesus put on humanity to be with us. May we know deeply why He did it.

He did it because He loves us. God loves us. God loves me... God loves you. You are special to Him and He likes who you are. You bring a smile to His face.

May that thought make your Christmas very merry this year.

A Better World For Nothing

(from USA Today)

I have been reading "Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, Resurrection and the Mission of the Church" by theologian N.T. Wright. This cartoon illustrates a prevailing mindset in most evangelical Christians. I'm not commenting, yet, on the rightness or wrongness of this, simply noting, as Wright's book and this cartoon imply, that we as Christians are acutely affected in the way we live this life by our view of what comes in the after-life.

If we think we just go to heaven when we die, and eventually God will destroy this world with fire and start over, then it makes complete sense as to why evangelical Christians typically don't really get very passionate about environmental issues, social change or alleviating suffering with long-term solutions. I'm generalizing, I know—there are many evangelical Christians who do care about these things.

My point is that I'm wondering if, somewhere along the way, we Christians have begun to think incorrectly about heaven and the "end-times", causing us to ignore or throw aside parts of what it means to follow Jesus, in a way that drastically reduces the relevance and hope of the gospel and the significance behind what Jesus' resurrection really means for Christians.

I haven't finished the book, and so I haven't reached a point of digesting all that Wright is proposing in his book, but he definitely raises compelling questions that deserve to be asked and wrestled with, especially if we view this world as irrelevant and passing away. We need to have open eyes and ears to consider that maybe these questions are valid. Maybe we need to do some self-assessment as to why we believe the things we believe. Because if we can't articulate what might be motivating our beliefs, our apparent lack of concern, in the world's eyes, about climate issues, social justice and the like, we are going to get caught looking very selfish, uncaring and unconcerned about the needs of the people around us. And if they don't believe that we care about their needs, they won't care at all what we say when we try to tell them about what we believe.

I'm not saying we need to blindly jump on the band-wagon of climate issues or any other global cause. That would be equally counter-productive and intellectually irresponsible as well. We just need to question why we are doing things the way we are doing them, and make sure we can articulate well, without hostility compensating for poor logic, why we believe what we believe and have the humility to change the way we live in the face of inconsistent or false ideas that might be motivating our decisions.

Hope and Desire

Desire fulfilled seems to be more pleasurable than a disappointment avoided.

Disappointment experienced seems to be more painful than the lack of desire.

Pain and pleasure, I've heard, are two sides to the same coin. They are the positive and negative expression of sensation, of feeling.

As I've been sorting through a lot of things lately, I'm discovered that, for whatever reason, I've developed the habit of viewing life through the same lens as Vince Vaughn's character, Peter La Fleur, did at the beginning of the movie Dodgeball. He said,

"I found that if you have a goal, that you might not reach it. But if you don't have one, then you are never disappointed. And I gotta tell ya... it feels phenomenal."

It's a humorous spot in the movie, some of us relating to that mindset. But the reality of living that way is that it doesn't feel phenomenal. It doesn't cause much feeling at all. We resort to that way of thinking specifically so we don't feel, because like I referred to before, pain and pleasure are just two sides to the same coin. We can't avoid pain without cutting ourselves off from pleasure.

Some would argue that a lot of people use pleasure to numb pain. To some degree, that appears to work on the surface of things, and many people function in that mode, but that's just it. They are merely functioning. There's a wholeness that is involved in finding healthy pleasure in things. They might be masking pain, with the use of something that appears pleasurable, but it isn't an open-eyed pleasure. The instant-gratification employed to ease the current pain looks like pleasure wins out, but the reality of the situation as a whole is that most "pleasurable" behaviors that people resort to in order to numb pain tend to cause more pain to themselves and others down the road, as most of those lesser, immediate pleasures lead to addictions...

So, despite that argument, it still seems clear to me that, when we avoid pain, we intrinsically limit our ability to experience deep, lasting pleasure. And, I have unknowingly allowed myself to operate in this way. Whether it was not trying out for the baseball team in college, for fear of wanting to be on the team but potentially finding out I wasn't good enough, or not speaking up when friends ask where we should go for dinner, a deadly numbness has crept into my heart, attempting to insulate myself from disappointment.

So, acknowledging this is the first step to recovery, I suppose.

I'm not sure how to go about changing. I'd imagine starting small would be helpful. Speaking up when I want to eat somewhere in particular, and then, letting myself feel the disappointment involved if I get out-voted. Or even bigger, pursuing something that will bring me joy and fulfillment, and being willing to work to get there, risking some hard work and potential setbacks and even failure, in the hopes that I will eventually get to experience that joy and fulfillment, etc.

I think our capacity for joy is proportionate to the amount of desire or hope that goes into it. If we are constantly shielding ourselves from disappointment, cynical that the worst will happen anyway, when good things do happen, we are merely slightly surprised and marginally thankful, before slipping into our next bout of cynicism that it will probably be taken away, so don't hope to enjoy it for too long, etc. I think this is a destructive way to live.

And while I don't think it has a death-grip on my personality, I do see that I have not let my heart really experience desire and hope and longing in a long time. I haven't been excited about many things... and it's time for that to change.

I'm not exactly sure how to go about re-orienting the way my heart reacts to desires and what not, but seeing these things is a start.

Heaven Without You

"I was recently asked by a non-Christian friend if I thought he was going to hell. I said, 'I hope not. It will be hard to enjoy heaven without you.'"
—Shane Claiborne

I just finished reading this article by Shane Claiborne on Esquire and this quote stopped me in my tracks. I actually sensed love in Shane's response, rather than simply a theologically accurate answer to the friend's question or articulation of a formula to convert the friend from one eternal destination to another.

As I continually sort through the good and bad of what Christianity has become, clinging to what is good, and abhorring what is evil, things like this stand out. Do those around us, who may not understand the good news that Jesus is, feel loved by us? Speaking truth is obviously necessary, but what good is truth if we are blind to the blatant hypocrisy in what we're saying? Loving someone does not equal telling them about Jesus in some pre-packaged way. Loving people is unique. It takes effort, sacrifice. It takes time out of our busy schedules. It takes interruptions. It takes some soul-searching and good listening, to understand people better and know where their hearts are, what their needs are. I think that creates the fertile soil to speak truth into. But if we haven't gained the capacity to genuinely love and care for the people around us, without the agenda of trying to "steer the conversation towards the Lord", our words about God will fall flat in the face of our lack of sincere concern. People know when they are being loved. People know when they are being pitched to. The gospel is not a pitch. The gospel is supposed to be a radical revolution of selfless love, rooted in a deep experience of the love of God in Jesus Christ, that pours itself out in an upside way, disrupting the kingdom of this world, the constant in-break of heaven's kingdom into the earth's.

May we who profess to be Christians be more focused on genuinely loving our neighbor with no strings attached than converting them... Let's let love define us, not causes or agendas or political platforms...

Life Goals

"Most people live life as though they were trying to arrive at death as safely as possible."

—Francis Chan

This really captures the tension I feel, between well-intentioned people constantly cautioning against risk and wishing me safety and the general discontented feeling always running beneath my surface, like an underground stream eroding away the soil under the structure of the status quo.

As I sort through who I am and what I want, it's really hard to come out from underneath people's expectations for my life, without throwing the baby out with the bath water. Where is true wisdom? Who do we listen to? The church? The culture around us? Our parents? Our pastors? Our friends? Books?

The world seems to have a complete system of how to arrive safely at death. The mindset seems to be to insulate yourself from as much pain or suffering as possible, have contingency plans in place for the adversity you can't control or avoid, and try to survive through life the best you can without rocking the boat or risking too much.

There's a balance, for sure, between responsibilities and risk. I'm not sure how to find it, and I know that I am currently in a season of life without a lot of personal responsibilities (no wife, no children, no mortgage, etc.), but I live without any even calculated risks or adventure. I could understand that if certain responsibilities meant sacrificing that freedom and spontaneity. But without those current responsibilities, I'm constantly at a loss for why my life seems so planned and scheduled, and that discontentment eats at me.

Is that the point of life? Just getting to the end? Just making it safely to death at an old age?

Something about that just doesn't sit well with me at all. I can't put my finger on it...

Drinking Alcohol

This is the reply I sent back to the person whose confrontation prompted my previous post. I had to clean it up a bit for this post:

...I wanted to let you know that I've thought, studied and prayed about the drinking issue a lot over the years. I don't believe drinking is wrong. The Bible is VERY clear that being drunk is sinful, but it is also equally clear that A) drinking is not wrong at all in and of itself, B) as Christians, we are to be very sensitive and obedient to the Holy Spirit's prompting and convictions, and C) we are also to strive to live in freedom in Christ through walking by that same Spirit (Paul had a lot to say to the Galatians on this, esp. Gal. 5:1). So from that, because I do not believe that the Bible at all condemns drinking (except when, in excess, it becomes drunkenness), I also don't believe this in anyway damages my testimony for Christ. Having a drink, in my understanding, is no different from having a cup of coffee, a Twinkie, a piece of birthday cake or 12 oz. filet mignon—all of those things in excess would become sinful, showing a greater love for that thing than Christ, or showing an unhealthy reliance on that thing more than Christ.

I'm not at all trying to argue or seem rebellious or anything like that. I just wanted to convey that it IS deeply important to me what people think about God and Jesus based on how I live. And since I don't believe it is scriptural to say drinking is sinful, I also don't want to add that to the gospel. There's a VERY clear difference between having a drink socially and getting drunk (and the myriad of reasons people do that), and people know that! The only people, in my experience, who have been offended by drinking has been Christians. I've had several conversations about Jesus and what it means to be saved by grace through faith with friends who are not saved while having a beer with dinner, etc. I'm far from perfect, but I think everyone who knows me and knows that I am a follower of Christ and trying to walk with God, knows my heart and knows I don't encourage getting drunk or being dependent on alcohol, and that I drink responsibly [again, I've failed in this area before]. But since I also strongly believe it is not a sin to drink alcohol, I don't want to give the impression that to be a Christian means you aren't allowed to drink. Bottom-line, that's legalism. I grew up in a very mean-spirited, legalistic church and God rescued me from that and continues to break my heart with compassion for people whose understanding of God is so distorted by man-made rules and traditions that they want nothing to do with the love of Jesus... So, all that to say, I think, study and pray really hard about what is essential for what it means to follow Jesus and what God is really like, and THOSE are the things that I want to communicate very clearly. If someone, who wasn't a Christian, came up to me and said, "Hey, I thought you were a Christian, and I saw you drinking. I thought Christians aren't allowed to drink?" What an opportunity! "Yes, I am a Christian. And actually, the Bible doesn't say it's wrong to drink at all, it just says that it's wrong to get drunk, because we lose control of ourselves and lose our ability to walk with God by His Spirit that lives inside of those who have placed their faith in Jesus Christ..." That would spark such an open, honest conversation about God, Christianity and what the gospel really is, the Bible, etc.

This has gotten long. It's just because it's important to me that you know I don't take this lightly. I'm not trying to quench the Spirit or dodge my conscience. The Bible is very clear that we are supposed to live with a clear conscience before God and men. To have integrity and listen to the voice of God's Spirit working within us.

The issue of being a "stumbling block" is very important to me. That's something I'm still studying and praying about. This message would get very much longer if I went into my thoughts, understandings and questions about what that means, who our "weaker brothers" are, whose consciences are we supposed to abide by, etc. I'm still sorting that through... and I've found that honesty, gentleness, patience, etc. can go along way. If I had a new Christian friend who struggles with partying or getting drunk, I would be very hesitant to flippantly drink in front of them, but I would also be involved in their life and would be walking with them, encouraging them to stop the destructive, counter-productive behaviors that are keeping them from growing in Christ, with the goal that eventually, unless God gives them a firm conviction against drinking at all like my dad seemed to have for over 10 years after becoming a Christian, I would hope that they would grow in their love for God, that freedom and love, through walking by the Spirit would allow them to see that drinking isn't wrong. The goal of discipleship should not be more and more rules and stricter obedience of the will, but of life-giving freedom in the Spirit, where we can say with Paul, "All things ARE lawful for me, but not everything is beneficial", etc. Paul would eat meat offered to idols or not, depending on who he was with. Is that hypocritical? Or is that wisdom? I'm not sure... But Paul taught the churches this very thing: all things ARE lawful! So if they are lawful, it is immaturity and ignorance that says things are unlawful—and while that might be acceptable and understandable for someone who is new in their faith in Christ, that is not the goal! God wants us to grow in our relationship with Him, so we understand the freedom that exists in loving Christ and so that nothing—not alcohol, not food, not shopping, not caffeine, not exercise, not the praise of men—competes for our love for Christ, and yet can be enjoyed and appreciated as good gifts from a loving God. When we are mature in our faith, we should be able to enjoy these gifts, without being controlled by them, with the freedom to lay them down if it is causing a brother or sister, with a weaker, more sensitive conscience about that issue, to sin. But like I said, I am still learning and praying and studying to understand what it means to avoid being a stumbling block, because that's clearly something Jesus warned against.

What do you think? Was it too wishy-washy? Was any of it under-handed or passive aggressive? I hope not. I don't want to run from confrontation/conflict since that has been a weakness of mine over the years, so speaking what I think is true, in a loving way, in response was necessary for me to do.

When You Get "Confronted"...

How do you respond?

Have you ever had someone tell you that they felt obligated to confront you about something you had done? They call upon your ties as a fellow Christian. They appeal to the sake of your testimony for Christ. They express concern over possible missed "witnessing opportunities"... I'm sure all these are done with good (I hope), though misguided, intentions...

What is the appropriate response for a Christian who is confronted by another Christian concerned about a behavior the latter believes is wrong?

My initial reaction, because, yes, this just happened to me, is indignation. Something like passion rises up in me and I want to put the person in their place. I want to lambaste them for their judgmental heart, for the hypocritical application of personal holiness and for their incorrect assumptions and interpretations of scripture. I want to quote Jesus to them, with a venomous "Woe to you, Pharisees and teachers of religious law!"

Somehow, I'm checked by love's higher calling, doubting my own motives, wary of my own arrogance, and I opt for not responding right away. Truth may need to be spoken, but the medium is as important as the message.

The issue was that I was in a picture on Facebook with a beer stein in my hand, celebrating someone's birthday in a pub.

So, as a Christ follower, what do I do when I completely disagree with another Christian's interpretation and application of scripture? What is the loving thing to do?

Drinking alcohol is not wrong according to the Bible. To say that it is, is un-biblical and adds to the gospel something that isn't there. That's dangerous ground. Paul had some strong words for those who were doing that to the Galatians, in chapter 3 of that book, and also, in chapter 5, where he said:

"For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."

Some people were trying to persuade the new Galatian believers that they needed to adhere to these particular Jewish laws in order to follow Jesus, to be Christians, to be part of the holy group, as it were. Paul vehemently spoke against this anti-grace mindset. He didn't give them license to do whatever they wanted, but admonished them to live by the Spirit of Christ in love, and don't let anyone force them to abide by a particular set of rules to measure spirituality by.

In our present context, we see this a lot. I saw it a lot in the Baptist church I grew up in. Christianity was defined, and still is in some cases, by external behaviors. A good Christian doesn't swear, drink, smoke, dance, listen to rock music, go to bars or clubs, watch R-rated movies, etc. This is actually directly counter-productive and antithetical to the argument against drinking that was used against me, claiming that drinking could "damage my testimony for Christ". Perhaps it damages the testimony of Christ and salvation by grace more when we make up rules that are not scriptural, enforce them without grace or mercy and cause division among believers (something the Bible says God hates)?

Even as I type this, I have to take a step back. I get pretty worked up over things like this. I don't mind so much that someone approached me and confronted me. There's an element of that that is motivated by love and concern, that speaks up when someone is doing something that is perceived to be harmful. That's a good thing. I do mind, however, that the nature of the confrontation is rooted in a completely un-biblical and illogical application of scripture, that simply upholds a particular tradition's rule.

As Christians, we are called to walk with a clear conscience before God and men. If we feel or know something to be wrong, we are responsible not to do it (and vice-versus for things that are right). We are told not to let anyone force us into bondage, instead, to pursue lives of freedom through walking by the Spirit of God. When we see someone blatantly sinning, we are first required to examine our own lives, to gain perspective and acknowledge our own sinfulness, hypocrisy and general disqualification in casting the first stone.

I could go on... I already have! This feels like a long post. I want to be grace-filled, to the hurting and to the arrogant. I want to show love to the guilty and the accusers. That's what I believe being a follower of Jesus Christ means. Jesus himself said, "They will know that you are My disciples by the way that you love each other".

He did not say, "They will know you are My disciples by how many rules you can come up with and faithfully adhere to."

I'm still not sure how to respond to the message I got. Is there value in trying to articulate to that person some of what I've typed here? Is there value in confronting their incorrect interpretation of scripture which has made a law out of something that the Bible in no way prohibits? If yes to either of those, how do I do that gently with love? Is it better to ignore it? Is this a situation of casting pearls before swine, not wasting words or energy on someone who is stuck in their ways? Are we stuck in our ways? Is there always hope for redemption and repentance? Should we always operate out of the faith and hope that people can and do change for the better?

I hope so.

You may have noticed, in reference to drinking, I didn't address the "stumbling block" issue, which needs another post all its own.

Conflict

"We are a conflict avoiding culture."
- Donald Miller, Interview with Relevant Magazine

How true is this. I want to think about this more and process how far-reaching its effects go. Everything in our culture is aimed at making life simpler, easier, quicker, less painful, etc. Every solution has to be advertised with phrases like, "For only $29.99" or "In just 3 weeks", catering to our aversion to conflict, hard-work and suffering.

What about my own life?

Are there things, habits or decisions that I choose based on avoiding conflict? I know in conversations that's a tendency I have. But what about other areas? Do I always choose the path of least resistance?

I wonder what it would do for our lives if we faced conflict head on, with strength and courage and humility and gentleness? I wonder what my life would look like...

All The Way From Michigan Not Mars

I just watched Rosie Thomas' All the Way From Michigan Not Mars DVD last night. It was pretty amazing, amusing and inspiring. I actually laughed out loud, literally. That was probably the only time I could've typed "LOL" and not been exaggerating. It made me want to go see her play, but she's only on the west coast currently. The movie, which was a mixture of documentary and live shows, did a great job of capturing Rosie Thomas' personality, which is wildly enigmatic to me. In person, in interviews, she is chatty, almost as if she has ADD. She's very bubbly and cheerful, in an artsy way. Once she starts singing, however, it's like time slows to a crawl, the audience falls silent and something beautiful happens. It's like a 180. Several times in the movie, she was on stage with Sufjan Stevens and Denison Witmer, joking around and laughing pretty hard, only to go into the next song and have the audience, and me for that matter, on the edge of their seats and a million miles away, feeling so deeply something that refused to be named or identified. I'm not sure if it's empathy, nostalgia or longing. Something in Rosie Thomas' music is pulling. It sucks you in and rolls you around and around and around, in the most mellow way you could imagine. And then, when the song was over, it was like coming up for air. And she makes that air very vulnerable, yet easy, and free from any pretension. It's like her music and personality strips away all the pretense, all the show, everything that tries to present itself in a better light, and leaves room for us to be ourselves and not feel alone or awkward.

I kept saying to myself as I watched... "I want to make music like this."

(I highly recommend getting the DVD. It comes with a vinyl, too.)

Coats and Hats and Being Your True Self

"...the world sets in to making us what the world would like us to be, and because we have to survive after all, we try to make ourselves into something that we hope the world will like better than it apparently did the selves we originally were. That is the story of all our lives, needless to say, and in the process of living out that story, the original, shimmering self gets buried so deep that most of us hardly end up living out of it at all. Instead, we live out all the other selves which we are constantly putting on and taking off like coats and hats against the world’s weather." (emphasis added by me) - Frederick Buechner

I read this this morning and it wrung sadly true. I wish I could say I was living out the phrase, "Let people feel the weight of who you are, and let them deal with it." Unfortunately, I know I'm not. There's something strange and sinister at work in this world, that makes us hide from each other.

I'm just beginning to see and understand this in myself. It feels at times like a subconscious prison that I don't realize I'm in, but that completely keeps me from being free and fully alive. "Our original, shimmering self"... Do we really believe that who we are deep down is worth letting other people see? That they need who you really are, not who you think they need? That reminds me of another quote, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive. Because what the world truly needs is people who have come alive."

Expect another blog post about this soon...

If It's in You, You Have to Write

"If it's in you, you have to write."

That's one of the many quotes I wrote down from this past weekend's Songwriting Boot Camp near Seattle, WA. It was an amazing time, filled with lots of music theory, song critiquing and speakers encouraging us aspiring song-writers to write, write, write.

I came back a sickness. I caught the songwriting bug.

The only downside to that is not having the time to do it as much as I'd like. That, of course, causes a plethora of what-ifs and internal scheming, grasping at straws for anything that would restructure my busy life to allow more downtime for writing. How do we find that ever-elusive balance of living from our hearts and meeting our responsibilities? I feel as though far too many of us, as Americans, whether through resignation or lack of opportunity, give up on our hearts and simply do what's expected of us. We take whatever jobs we can and pay the bills, without much thought to what makes us come alive. In this particular economy, it comes across even more so as a luxury. It's part of the American Dream, though, to be able to enter the free market economy and sell your goods or services and make a life for yourself. Somewhere along the way, it seems like many of us stopped asking what makes us come alive, and just started asking what the world needs and what the world will buy. We've sacrificed passion on the alter of pragmatism.

Is there another way? Are these questions just the ranting of an ungrateful, spoiled American who doesn't appreciate the opportunities and privileges that he has? If so, what do we do with our desires and passions? The only option in the face of such condemnation at these questions, is to let our hearts die the slow death of safety and tenured employment.

I'm aware of the need for us to be content, to be truly grateful for the jobs we have and the pay checks we receive and I don't want to swing the pendulum completely the other way. Starving artists may be living from their hearts, but they're probably also malnourished and mooching off their friends and family in a way that is straining relationships.

So how do we live from the hearts that God has put in us, while accepting the responsibilities that we've been given and need to be faithful to?

A Waste of Perfectly Good Emotion

I was reading David Dark's book, "The Sacredness of Questioning Everything", last night and came across a section that grabbed my attention and wouldn't let me keep reading. I had to put the book down and just ponder what I had read as I fell asleep.

He was quoting something he had read or heard, someone's response after watching a particular movie, that perhaps had Tom Hanks or someone in it. When asked about it, the man responded favorably, that he had liked the movie well enough. But after seeing the man's hesitation or that he clearly had more going on under the surface, he was asked what else was on his mind. He responded, "Seemed like a waste of perfectly good emotion."

That struck me. As Dark went on to discuss the evils of our TV-infatuated society, I started drifting off on a rabbit trail of my own. I started thinking about the emotions I experience when I watch movies or certain shows and started considering that quote...

"A waste of perfectly good emotion."

The inspiration of Biggest Loser, the excitement of Monday Night Football, the persevering love in The Notebook, the warmth of family and love of Love Actually, the justice and compassion in Extreme Home Makeover... so many random emotions. And I started wondering, are these wasted emotions? These shows and movies are not bad in and of themselves. Not at all. They can be beautiful glimpses into what makes us human and what makes life beautiful. But, for instance, even before reading Dark's latest book, I couldn't stand Extreme Home Makeover because I felt manipulated. They got my eyes to tear up and I didn't even know them. I think I resented being taken advantage of emotionally. Part of why that show is so emotional is because it speaks to something deeply human in us. I'm not questioning that at all. What I am questioning is what good is that? What good does it do for me to get a little teary-eyed at the end of a show in the comfort of my living room? I simply change the channel, or shut the TV off and go about whatever is next in my day. Then, it really does feel like a waste of emotion...

Instead of sitting on the couch for an hour, getting a little misty-eyed with compassion for a family that is struggling and gets help, what if I took the time to get to know my real neighbors and found out what their needs were? What if I spent that hour, which would have been spent sitting on my couch watching people I'll never meet or help, helping a real neighbor of mine? What if my tears were because I really helped a friend who was discouraged, or helped a neighbor fix their fence or shovel their driveway? Would I be moved to tears then?

Yes. I would. It's happened. Not to the point of sobbing like a baby. But after a silly situation where I went 5 minutes out of my way to help one of my physical neighbors, I was flooded by an over-whelming sense of emotion. I'm not even sure what it was. Compassion? Gratitude? Or just a deep realization and sensation that we are broken people and something transcendent takes place when we choose to love each other?

Disclaimer: The situation above does not happen regularly. In fact, truth be told, I drove past my neighbor and had to battle my own selfishness until I finally turned around and went back to help. I definitely don't want to paint myself as a saint.

Thinking back on the emotions that came with helping someone, with no thought of getting something in return, I am puzzled why I don't seek out more opportunities to help my neighbors more. There was something freely and alive in me during, but especially afterward, as I drove on my way. I felt changed. And I think that was because those emotions weren't wasted. I interacted with a real human. His needs were met and my heart was expanded.

I don't think we need to throw out our TVs and start picketing outside Comcast's offices. But maybe I need to be more intentional with how I spend my time, to balance my movie-watching with participating in the real-life stories of the people around me.

Think of the millions of people who probably watch Extreme Home Makeover. Think of their combined salaries and time. Think of the neighborhoods that those millions of people inhabit. Think of the neighbors, in adjacent houses who are hurting and could use some help and compassion. And think of how many hours we just sit on our couches, tearing-up that some random family somewhere in the country got a really big house when they were down-and-out, oblivious to the people around us who may even be watching the same show, wishing someone would help them like that...

I hope that's not manipulative or guilt-inducing. That's not my intention. I'm simply wrestling with my own self-centered life and wondering about the ways that I could love my real neighbors more, and in doing so, experience deep emotions that aren't wasted.

What Lies Have You Fallen For?

As I've been processing things lately, I have been bumping up against thoughts and words and phrases that come up to the surface in the midst of emotional upheaval. Phrases like, "I felt like God pulled the rug out from under me", "God doesn't seem to really be that concerned with me" or "It's like there's something deeply wrong with me..."

I've read a few books by John Eldridge in the past few years and while I am frustrated by the way he tends to proof-text quite a bit (pulling verses slightly out-of-context to support an already-assumed-to-be-true statement... It's like, Dude, what you said is true—you don't need a verse for it...), I have been introduced to some spiritual/psychological concepts that ring extremely true. He talks about how we experience emotional wounds as we grow up, and that our enemy, the devil, uses these in his hatred for us and God, to deceive us and lie to us and get us to agree with his spin on what is real and true about God, the world and ourselves, imprisoning us in a mire of self-preservation, fear, anger and loneliness.

I am finding that there are a lot of lies that I believe, bits of experiences that have been distorted to push seeds of doubt deep into the soil of God's character. Once they've been planted, so many experiences after that only serve to water and nourish those lies and deceptions, causing deep emotional and spiritual strongholds that we erect in order to survive and cope with the things we've experienced, the pain we've dealt with and the confusion we've struggled under.

If the devil isn't real or there isn't some personal evil being in the world that is set against me, the pain and suffering in this world can only be blamed on two people. God or myself. Maybe you could say the physical, material world, but that would fall back on God's shoulders (in the absence of a real Villain in this Story). So, in light of the pain in this world, God is holding out on us and we can't really trust Him. Or there is something deeply broken and evil in us that is beyond hope and we deserve all the misery that we experience.

That is the lie. C.S. Lewis, in The Screwtape Letters, talks about the primary tool used by satan and the fallen angels with him is to deceive us humans into believing that evil spirits do not exist. And if we believe that they don't exist, when they actually do, we are forced to make false conclusions about the world around us because we have this innate and God-image-bearing tendency to cry out for justice. Someone is to blame for evil. God, me or the devil. And if the devil can make me dismiss him as a real player in all this, then evil is God's fault or mine.

I don't know if that whole thought process makes any sense to any of you. I know that was kinda paradigm-shifting for me. The devil is kind of like the bogeyman in a lot of churches... not really talked about. And then so many people go over-board with the whole "spiritual warfare" side of things that it caricatures that reality into some hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo. Especially in this post-modern, science-worshiping culture of ours.

The reason I think it's critical for us to acknowledge this is because we're crippled if we don't. We cut ourselves off from most of the spiritual and emotional healing that is possible if we're casting blame in the wrong place. It would be like refusing to go to the doctor because you somehow conclude that since medicine cures the flu, and the doctor has the medicine, but allowed you to get sick in the first place, the doctor is evil, when in reality, he is the one you need to see most. Or worse, that you deserve to be sick, so you don't seek help at all.

I've found that these "lies" in my life only surface under emotional pain. I don't typically notice them when I'm just going through the motions of life. But once the status quo is jostled off its center and things aren't coasting along normally, I find strange thoughts just beneath the surface.

I think we need this. We need to go deeper. We need to scrape away the topsoil and see what's underneath. Especially because anything less leaves us treating the symptoms of brokenness with little behavior-modification band-aids. And it keeps us from being honest and authentic with God and each other. It's the whole, "If you walk in the Light as He is in the Light, we have fellowship with each other" thing. Life has created some dark cracks and shadows in our lives, that the devil has whispered into and brainwashed us with. We need the healing light of redemption and transparency and healing if we are ever going to experience wholeness.

So, don't necessarily comment on here about it, but take some time and think about the emotional pain you experience or even the things that you "struggle" with in life and go deeper. Ask yourself why you do them? Ask how it feels? What do you think about God or yourself in those moments? I'm finding that I've wasted a lot of time going through the motions of pursuing God, when in reality, I've not been real with Him and faced up to situations in the past where I felt betrayed and abandoned by Him. I'm not exactly sure where to go with that, for as a friend said, "Clarity does not equal healing." But I know it's a start. Hopefully, a small step towards a deeper, more authentic and life-giving experience with God.

Come on! You only live once!

We've all heard someone say it.

Strangely, after hearing someone prodded towards a particular decision with this phrase, I got lost in my own world of wondering why we say that so flippantly, whether we really believe it and if it was really true, how our lives would be so drastically different.

You only live once.

If people really believed that there is nothing after death, then yes, do what you want, try new things, take risks (calculated ones—don't want to accidentally end it too early), because we live one life and then we die. Others of us believe there is, in fact, something after death, another life. So, we shouldn't use the phrase, technically, because we're advocating behavior based on something that we don't actually believe. Am I splitting hairs? Or do we, in practice, show that we don't really believe as confidently as we'd like to? Or that the life to come is somehow going to be limited or diminished in its potential for Life, resulting in an urgency to try things and do things in the moment in this life, since the opportunity in the next won't be there? Do we think it will be boring? Or has this phrase just come to embody the warning against procrastination that means we may miss opportunities in this life that won't repeat themselves? That's probably it, though you would think we'd come up with a different phrase, like, "Chances don't come twice." or something like that. We tie it to living and imply that after death, live won't be as vibrant or exciting.

You only live once.

I guess it just gets me, because I rarely think about heaven. Do you? Do any of us who profess to be Christians? Is it just wishful-thinking for the oppressed and suffering? I don't think it is. I think there is something True behind our desires for peace, and love and the absence of pain and suffering, etc. Our desire for perfection and our sense of the way things ought to be, I believe, does, in fact, come from a time and reality somehow outside our own in which all things are set right and made to be as they should be. I guess that's why that phrase, "You only live once" got under my skin tonight. This life is hard. It's complex, painful and confusing. And that phrase just sounds like grabbing at what little happiness you can get in the moment, because, despite all the pain, this life is our only shot at feeling alive and whatever comes after won't really live up to our expectations. Certain seasons of life make it hard to take your eyes off yourself to see what's going on around you, let alone what might go on after we die.

As a Christian, technically I believe we live twice. We don't know exactly what the next life will be like. A long boring church service? Floating through white, puffy clouds? Playing football and golf forever? A big, happy family reunion? Procreating with virgins to fill our own planet? A happily ever after where we know and feel and experience the deep, abiding love of our Creator and Savior and Lover and King that never wavers, in which we are utterly free with child-like wonder to explore and learn and grow and create and love with no bounds and no worries and no fears and no pain?...

If we really believe that last picture of heaven is mostly accurate, shouldn't it affect our lives more? It doesn't seem to, at least not in our daily actions and interactions. Is that a unfair expectation (I realize I have a lot of those when it comes to spiritual things...)? Why do we live with such a limited, near-sighted vision of this life and the one to come? I would think, if we truly believed heaven to be all the good, beauty and truth that this life has to offer only more so and perfected experience, we would live differently. Obviously, like Paul said, it would be better to be with Jesus, but killing ourselves to get there earlier seems... counter-intuitive or sabotaging... leaving the option of living THIS life in a particular way. What way? What is the proper way to live this life that is an appropriate response to the desire and hope of the better life to come?

Perhaps that's where C.S. Lewis' observation rings true, that with every decision, we are becoming a creature more fit for heaven or a creature more fit for hell... So, as I anxiously await that happily ever after, is the point of this life to teach us how live within heaven's kingdom? Or simply for us to tell other people to cry out to Jesus to save them so they can go there, too, leaving us scurrying for converts so we can feel like we're succeeding?

I am currently wrestling with finding some purpose in life, if you can't tell =)

It's late. Thanks for reading... Goodnight!

Distrusting God

I haven't been doing much thinking of any kind lately since I've been sick for almost a week now, with some kind of bronchial infection, but medicine is bringing back mental clarity along with the good health, so it's time for another blog post.

“Satan came into the Garden and whispered to Adam and Eve—and in them, to all of us—‘You cannot trust the heart of God . . . he’s holding out on you . . . you’ve got to take matters under your control.’ He sowed the seed of mistrust in our hearts; he tempted us to seize control.

It’s the same lie he is using in your life today, by the way: “Trusting God is way too risky. You’re far too vulnerable. Rewrite the Story. Give yourself a better part. Arrange for your own happiness. Disregard him.”

(Epic , 54, 55)

I am finding this to be true. I understand that we all have differing beliefs and experiences regarding the supernatural and spiritual warfare, but along with believing in God's existence, it is logical for me to believe in the existence of a real personal evil being, which the Bible calls Satan. For me at this point, it's just acknowledging that there is a real presence of evil in the world, apart from humanity's imperfections, that is actively working to keep us from experiencing God and all the good, beautiful and truthful expressions of Him in the world. In the quote above, I think Eldridge really captures the root of the story in Genesis of the fall of mankind. The questions that the serpent posed to Eve, "Did God really say...?" aren't blatant attacks on the character of God. The serpent didn't pop out of the bushes, apparently, and say, "God is evil!" or "Worship me instead of God!" ... the serpent simply, innocently asked Eve to double-check what she thought was true. Are you sure God has your best interest at heart? And faced with that uncertainty, the uncertainty that is necessary and inescapable in a free world with love as the ultimate goal, Adam and Eve decided to make a backup plan and chose to err on the side of caution, just in case God was lying or wouldn't take care of them.

The quote above really hits home for me. I can see, from experiences I've had, that I have had those same questions whispered to me in the dark, from the imperceptible corners of circumstances, causing me to build up walls to protect myself from being abandoned or betrayed by the God I thought loved me or would care for me.

So now, I am trying to slide out from underneath those questions and deceptions, and at some base level, come honestly to God. I don't want to simply shake my fist in frustration or hunker down for the long winter of resignation to fear and uncertainty. I don't want to assume that I know what's best, but at the same time, I want to hold up my experiences to the light and be honest with God with the situations that have left me confused at His inactivity or doubtful of His love. I'm not sure where this will go. I'm not sure if I'll have some grand epiphany where God explains the mysteries of pain to me, but I figure it's a start. And hopefully, at some base level, coming to God honestly is showing a sign of trust that matters to Him. That He won't squash us in His wrath when we can't see clearly what He's doing and when it hurts and He didn't seem to do anything about it.

It's a weird thing, to hope that God is how I hope He is. Somewhere beneath the surface, there is this deep hope that God is infinitely understanding and forgiving and merciful. A hope that our questions don't piss Him off. That our doubts, though they might sting a little, don't send God into a fit of wrath where He sadistically plots our punishment at the moment when we least expect it. The vengeful, wrathful God of the Old Testament seems so radically different from Jesus, that it is still hard at times to hope that God is tender towards us and infinitely patient with our struggles. Not our habitual sin, but the fears and doubts and questions and confusions that life keeps bogging us down with...

The Bible says God is love. I really hope that's true...

Reason vs. Emotion

I'm learning that most of our rational or intellectual hangups about God are rarely the issue. I mean, if God was able to be comprehended completely by simply using reason and logic, I think a far greater number of people would believe and follow Him. There's a lot of smart people out there! But that's not how we relate to each other, so I'm beginning to see that we don't relate to God that way either, try as we might. The way we know a person is completely different from the way we know our way home or how to do long division (if we remember how!)...

The real issue that we have with God is when He doesn't do things that we think He's supposed to. I'm not even meaning that we think we know better than Him and He should do things our way. I'm talking about the times when our experiences with God and the things we've been taught about God have lead us to expect certain things from Him, or to assume He interacts with the world a particular way. And when He doesn't, it hurts. It confuses us. I thought God cared. I thought if I trusted Him, this wouldn't happen to me. So, in an effort to understand our pain and confusion, we start deconstructing the things we thought were true. And this is dangerous territory, I think, because as I believe God is real, then I must logically allow for the devil and fallen angels and spirits to be real. In the midst of pain, we can succumb to all sorts of deceptions and false conclusions. Sure, God loves the world, but I guess He doesn't really love me. Something must be wrong with me that this happened. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe God just doesn't care. I guess I'm alone in this. We take concepts that we were taught to be true, like that God is good, and let our experiences become the deciding evidences. At least, that's what I tend to do.

And so, without going into detail, I have realized that my intellectual hesitations are probably just defense mechanisms to bury or distract myself from unhealed emotional pain. I feel like this is a good first step. To realize this, that is. The next step seems to be allowing myself to feel the weight of that brokenness and crying out to God, by being honest.

I'm thankful for friends who are walking with me through these things and praying for me.

Yes, I Love Technology, Always and Forever

A long time ago, I wrote this song lyric:

"Little plastic boxes pressed to our heads
Sending through space all the things that we've said
Now we may never lose touch,
But we forget how to feel
Deceiving ourselves that that contact is real
Technology is winning..."

Now, admittedly, technology is also doing a lot of good, so just railing against technology as a blanket statement is not fair. It is amazing to think about how quickly technology has advanced, even over the past ten years, and what is has done to our communication landscape. Letters have become emails, discussions at the coffee shop have become online message boards, chat rooms (does anyone use them anymore?) have become comments back and forth on Facebook and casual interactions with the people you see daily have expanded exponentially to all the people you know or have ever known, through text messages, Facebook status updates and Tweets. Now we just post things about ourselves and hope people notice us by commenting on them. It seems like the whole cultural landscape has become so narcissistic. I confess, I'm tempted these days to delete my Facebook account, and at least retreat technologically back to communicating through email.

Is this technology creep we see in our communication a good thing? Text messages are definitely convenient, but is the convenience worth the way it cheapens conversation and relationships to a simple exchange of information or answer to a question? I completely admit how quick and easy a text message is and all the instances where it seems to be a benefit. But I can also think of the countless times where it is easier to text someone and get a short response, rather than engaging them and having a conversation.

I think why this has been on my mind lately is that time is so fleeting and hard to find. We are so busy with life and are living at such a high speed that we need our communications to keep up. We are so busy with work and tasks, that we are squeezing people in and around the things we have to do. I don't think this is a good trend. The car has become when most of my phone calls and text messages happen. Which means, for the bulk of my communications, I'm sitting by myself, rather than with the person I'm communicating with... so I lose tone of voice, body language, etc.

What can we do to slow things down? I know some people that don't get text messages on their phones... And there are still the few hold-outs that don't have Facebook...

Maybe we should go back to letter-writing?

Your Feedback and God's Goodness

I know there are 7 of you following this blog. Do you check back often to read posts or check if I've posted new ones? Let me know!

I hesitate to post this post, for I have a feeling it will sadden or frustrate some of you... But I'd rather not have these thoughts rattling around in my head alone... Welcome to my over-thinking.

In my current phase of life, I am wrestling with the idea of God's goodness. Some people claim that simply by knowing that God sent His son to die for us is all the proof we need. For them, that settles it and anything that questions that is ingratitude and heresy. Some people look to the bulk of life in general, and are thankful for all the basic normal things in life that are so easily "taken for granted". You woke up today. You can breathe without intense pain in your lungs. You can get out of bed without someone's assistance. You are rich enough to afford transportation to a job that many people don't have right now. You know how to use a computer and you aren't blind and are able to read this blog post. There is no end to the mundane aspects of life that, if taken away, we would be worse off without. This is all attributed to the goodness of God, or His infinite patience and mercy. And since we are so evil and vile, it is purely mercy that God doesn't torture us instead as punishment for our depravity. The latter form of gratitude borders on obligation, when contrasted with how wicked and undeserving we apparently are.

I can see truths hidden in both of these concepts. It makes sense to me to have a sense of appreciation and gratitude for the basics of life, that for some, are a luxury. I don't want to take things for granted. And believing that God sacrificed His own son to reconcile us to Himself is such an extreme example of selfless love. Believing God would go to that length to provide salvation to us is deeply humbling.

So that brings us to the present. There is a tension between experience and what I mostly believe to be true. Unanswered prayers, confusion, fear, deep emotional pain... all these things scream out for explanation. Why does God seem inactive or passive? Why doesn't He communicate clearly if these situations are supposed to teach us something? Why doesn't He empower us to overcome the things in us the bind us and frustrate us? Why does He allow the devil and other evil spirits (if that is a legitimate factor in why life hasn't turned out like we want it to) to defeat us? Why does He allow fears and insecurities and emotional wounds to go unhealed?

I'm not sure. But that's the root of why I am wrestling with God's goodness. I want to believe that He is good. This is not my attempt at throwing off the shackles of religion so I can do what I want. These questions are at the heart of the gospel. I suppose, in some sense, I don't trust God. At least not for healing. Not for interaction. I can trust that Jesus died 2000 years ago and that God wants us to trust Him that we can't earn salvation and must risk and trust that Jesus' death covers our sins and makes us right with God. But that feels worlds different from trusting God in the face of constant disappointment, unmet desires and ongoing captivity to fear, confusion and over-thinking.

Someone suggested maybe I've never actually experienced God as He truly is. Maybe the version of God that I'm so frustrated by and feel abandoned/neglected by isn't the real God? Maybe the church I grew up in painted a picture of God that was distorted and untrue. An idol, a facsimile. It is hard to say at this point.

I'm not giving up on this yet. I'm just trying to be honest with my feelings, thoughts and questions, while not losing sight of the fact that I am human, and therefore, I do not know everything. I understand and submit to the fact that God IS higher and more transcendent than I am. He does not have to do things my way, because my way is decidedly myopic. But I can't avoid the parts of me that feel broken, or the silence and frustration with the idea of a personal relationship with God. I can't pretend that those things don't haunt me and wear me down.

I'm trying to find hope that God still has mercy towards us, even if we feel like we're losing sight of who He really is. I hope He understands, in this fallen, broken world, how difficult it is for some of us to believe and trust Him. It would be nice to shut off this brain and just simply believe everything. That'd be a hell of a lot easier. Thinking through all this stuff feels like such a burden, but I don't know how to shut it off.

Or maybe it's not a head issue? Maybe it's a heart issue and my heart is unwilling to risk trusting God... maybe I'm too afraid that He will let me down and disappoint... and if God lets us down... what then? There's no safety net after that.

And maybe these posts are too vulnerable and incriminating for the interwebs?! DANG.

The Big Three Oh

I am now 30 years old.

I still don't really feel like I know what I'm doing and haven't learned how to shut off my brain and just live in the moment. That makes strange distinction, implying one is either smart and self-aware OR one is dumb and just gives in to the current emotions, desires and impulses and makes decisions in the moment. That's not exactly what I meant.

I realize "30 is the new 20", which, honestly, doesn't do much for the sake of easing the mixed emotions of turning thirty. Our culture is drastically different from 2o or 30 years ago. With the internet, cell phones, video games, etc. our cultural landscape is and has shifted. Most of us are in a perpetual state of "arrested development" (Hey, that's the name of a show!) We are raised by our families and schools and churches to progress through the hoops of ever increasing levels and accomplishments. First day of school. Graduating middle school. Getting a driver's license. Graduating high school. Graduating college. Once you do that, get a job that pays your bills... and then? If you choose (or it works out in your favor that way), you can get married and have kids and become a bystander on their journey through those rites of passage... vicious circle.

What do you do once you've graduated from college and you have a job that pays the bills? The American Dream says get all you can to live comfortably and safely. Buy more stuff. That's just garbage. It doesn't make anyone happy, it just dulls the pain of not having a freakin' clue about what makes life worth living and how to find deep lasting satisfaction. But, if you can't put your finger on how to live, it's so easy to slide back into being comfortable. Settle for a nice, quiet life. Be content with that. Eat, drink and be happy.

Is that it? I know the book of Ecclesiastes concludes that about life, especially when you take God out of the picture. But that doesn't seem consistent with the whole of the Bible... if it that's simple... God wasted a whole hell of a lot of His and our time in preserving all these other things in the Bible... Christianity is obviously more than just eat, drink and be happy. Otherwise, Jesus wouldn't have had to come to earth and die on the cross, etc. That just wouldn't have been necessary...

Is it "telling people about Jesus"? Getting people "saved"? There's something so flat to that, in my experience. The church I grew up in lacked so much in terms of understanding the gospel in a holistic sense. They had no idea how to train disciples of Christ, they just knew how to make converts. I think this has been true of a lot of churches in America. That's not a huge stone that I'm throwing, because I know there's a lot of good intentions behind that. But just telling people that they are sinful and Jesus died to save them... seems shallow and irrelevant. Because, so if they say a prayer and believe what you scare them with, what then? You've now just created a Christian who is scared of hell and the whole of Christianity to them has been introduced to them as fire-insurance from hell that has NOTHING to say about regular day-to-day life. There's nothing loving... well, there's something loving in that, maybe, but it's so incomplete and insufficient at explaining the good news that Jesus Christ supposedly is...

All this is coming around to say this:

The culture around me gives an explanation for how to find life, the American Dream. Be selfish, greedy if necessary, to amass as much stuff as you can to live comfortably and safely and free from any kind of suffering.

The version of Christianity I've experienced for most of my life taught me that life is found in serving God by trying to get people saved, by telling them they are bound for hell unless they pray to receive Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

These two avenues for finding life are pathetically lacking. Jesus said, love God and love your neighbor as yourself. That seems a little more simple, yet powerful, and difficult to do. But it's a start... but that really just deals with the day to day living...

How do I understand where I am today? As a 30 year-old, what do I do with this desire for a tangible purpose? Try to silence it? That doesn't seem wise, responsible or plausible.

So, I guess that's what I'm questioning right now. What's the most important thing for me to be? To learn? To strive for? To do? I feel like I'm in a weird transition season of life, but transitioning to what?

I've read things by John Piper and others, who quote the Westminster Catechism, that says something like, the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

But what does that look like? How do we enjoy a God we don't see, taste, hear, touch or smell? How do we glorify a God that we barely understand or experience, who seems unkind or passive or cruel or altogether absent to so many?

These are just some of my questions at the beginning of my 4th decade on this ball of dirt spinning its way through the cosmos. Life is so short... What makes it count for something?

Body, Soul, Spirit

I have never taken the time to think through this much, and I'm not confident it is necessary, but I have been listening to a podcast of Peter Kreeft's and he explained that the body is our relation to the world, our soul is our relation to ourselves and others, and our spirit is our relation to God.

I thought that was a pretty insightful explanation and support for the body/soul/spirit idea versus just the body/soul idea.

But like I said, practically speaking, I'm not aware of the immediate implications of believing one way or another...

When Life Is Too Busy To Actually Live...

I think I've posted about this before, but I am definitely feeling the weight of the "tyranny of the urgent".

How do we slow down? How do we say "no" to more things and prioritize which things to say "yes" to?

Life is too short to live it without knowing what you're living for. That's what I'm trying to figure out. What will make my life worth living?

Deism?

To you who may read this, in your experience, what helps you recognize and put rational faith in God's active intervention in your life? How do you have sense of God's working in and around you? How do you know what prayers God "answers" and what to do with those "answers"?

I feel like God is pretty passive, or at least that's how I tend to interpret the events of my life. It is ridiculously difficult for me to see/recognize/believe that God is engaged and active with me. In my experience, sometimes I feel like I am a deist. I believe God exists, but I have precious little to go on that says He is alive and active in my life today... I believe He IS, but that belief hangs on a thread most of the time and is so hard to put words to...

If God IS truly working in and around me, I want to recognize it more. I want my senses and mind to be trained to distinguish what is His activity versus just life happening. Or is God active in everything? Is this email divinely directed? Are the words I'm choosing to type pre-planned and part of God's plan to bring about good? I've been really wrestling lately with my own personal experience with God. The head knowledge is strong and logical, but the spiritual experiences are flimsy and sporadic, stained with doubts and questions. And my inability to find solid experience to stand on, tends to erode at the things that I think I believe to be true. Then everything starts to get weird and existential and exhausting.

Any thoughts?

Or is all of this just a weird emotional by-product of being too busy and not spending time with God?

Practical Agnostics

This is from the Daily Reading email I got a few days ago:

"So long as we imagine it is we who have to look for God, we must often lose heart. But it is the other way about—He is looking for us. - Simon Tugwell

Can it possibly get any more uncertain than this? We so long for life to be better than it is. We wish the beauty and love and adventure would stay and that someone strong and kind would show us how to make the Arrows go away. We hope that God will be our hero. Of all the people in the universe, he could stop the Arrows and arrange for just a little more blessing in our lives. He can spin the earth, change the weather, topple governments, obliterate armies, and resurrect the dead. Is it too much to ask that he intervene in our story? But he often seems aloof, almost indifferent to our plight, so entirely out of our control. Would it be any worse if there were no God? If he didn’t exist, at least we wouldn’t get our hopes up. We could settle once and for all that we really are alone in the universe and get on with surviving as best we may.

This is, in fact, how many professing Christians end up living: as practical agnostics. Perhaps God will come through, perhaps he won’t, so I’ll be hanged if I’ll live as though he had to come through. I’ll hedge my bets and if he does show up, so much the better..."

This really captures a lot of the subconscious struggle I have with God. I don't particularly want to be a deist, but I am really bad at seeing and recognizing God's action around me. And I understand that it is faith either way, to say "God provided this opportunity" or to say "This just happened to fall into my lap". So, how do we choose to take our faith in the direction of believing that God is intervening in our lives, actively and attentively, without surrendering the rational, intelligent part of ourselves that needs some logic on which to base decisions on.

Why does it matter, you ask? It matters because so much of Christianity is predicated on the active love of God, pursuing us. I don't want to diminish Jesus' death on the cross to pay for my sin at all, but... how do I put this without sounding heretical... It's a starting block. Or at least, it should be, in my eyes. Take it to a marriage analogy. If the husband signs the marriage license, what kind of husband would he be if he never spoke to his wife, never cared for her in ways that she recognized? And when she would question or ask about his lack of affection or visible signs of his love, what if he would bring up the fact that he signed the marriage license and would shame her for being ungrateful? I can't picture God being that way. Even if the initial act was so powerfully loving, initiating a potential lifetime of intimacy and joy, if he didn't continue to show and express love to her in ways she recognized, what kind of husband would he be?

That seems fairly accusatory of me and that's why I can't really get behind that sentiment. The next logical conclusion I come to is that I really suck at listening to and recognizing God's current care for me. Or, allowing for the spiritual realm to be real, the devil is also actively warring to keep me from sensing and knowing God's active love for me.

Underneath all of this, I feel like I am just too busy. I am not making time to be still and quiet, so I don't feel any deep peace or centeredness. I am just running from task to task, conversation to conversation and I think over several weeks, I've just lost my bearings a little bit.

Christian or Secular?

I had someone ask me today, if the music I write is Christian or secular... and I was dumbfounded for a split second. It caught me off guard and I didn't know how to answer. I don't mean this to sound condescending at all, but it has just been so long since I've interacted with anyone who operates in those categories in relation to music that I probably looked at her like she had two heads at first. My response was a question, hoping to clarify what she meant, "What do you mean? If I'm a Christian, does that mean the music I write is Christian?" I think she wasn't expecting a question in response, because it took her a second to answer and she definitely seemed like she hadn't been asked to expand on what she meant before that. As I somewhat anticipated, she went on to distinguish between songs about God and living life for Him, versus songs relating to relationships and love, etc.

I hope I am bringing those two worlds together under the same roof. I don't want to operate in a secular mode and then a Christian mode. I want to find God's presence in all of it, without losing my ability to relate with the physical and emotional realities around me. I'm not sure about how to gently prod and push those who still operate in this mindset. There are probably some benefits, some glimpses of good intentions behind it. On the whole, I think it is a harmful and divisive way of viewing the world and I have a hard time accepting that it's a biblical view. Music is a gift. For me, it's a medium for expressing my thoughts and emotions. I have no agenda. I hope it is consistent with who I am and who I understand God to be. But is this post Christian or secular? Is my job Christian or secular? Is the last conversation I had with you Christian or secular? If we are truly following Christ and experiencing God in our daily lives, then everything we do should have the scent of heaven in it. There should be an intentional union between the mundane and the holy in our lives. I have not arrived at this, by any stretch. But after this morning, I'm reminded that I want my life to be this way. I want my ordinary daily interactions and actions to be honest and unpretentious, but at the same time, soaked in or haunted by God's reality and presence. Especially for the Christ-follower/believer, God is always with us, so nothing should be considered "secular" and everything should be "Christian" which would make the label unnecessary. It would be like asking if my music is human music...

Assumed Expectations = Irrational Fear of Failure

So I've had a bit of a revelation lately. Perhaps an epiphany, if you will.

I've continued to question and search through the reasons why I am single as I approach the ripe old age of 30. Not that 30 is a magical number, because I would be asking the same questions if I was still 27 or if I was single and 34. Relationships have always been difficult for me, for some reason. Exploring "why" has been a vague, convoluted and often discouraging process. But I think I'm coming to a light at the end of the tunnel (hopefully, not a freight train coming at me, like Metallica sang). There might be some more turns and introspective discoveries left to unearth, but the past couple of days have been shedding light on something for me.

I am afraid of failing. That might not be so abnormal for men, since we are typically very task-oriented, rather than relational (stereotypically true of women). When it comes to relationships though, for whatever reasons, I have a deep fear of failing that keeps me from opening up and letting my heart love/trust, etc. And—this is the epiphany part—I'm pretty sure it's because, in my task-oriented brain, I assume women have an expectation of me. They expect something of a boyfriend. They expect something of the pursuit. And the source of my fear comes from not knowing what their expectations are. They don't hand out a Expectations and Requirements Document on the first date! So I have spent years and years, basically guessing at what various women want, trying to be "successful", trying to be what they want, but never settling into a peaceful, joyful relationship of honesty and intimacy. This insatiable need to be what someone wants has only led to heartbreak.

The freeing part of this epiphany is that my assumption is wrong. Women may have expectations, desires, etc. but it is not my place to guess what they are OR try to fit into what they want. I need to learn to be myself and be okay that if it doesn't work out, it is an okay kind of "failure" (in the sense that the relationship didn't end in marriage). Like Einstein or Bell said (I forget), when asked about the thousands of failures when trying to discover... a conductor for the light bulb... or something, "I didn't fail, I found X thousand elements that don't work". I don't know why I have tried to be what a woman wants. I suppose it is a form of validation, a desire to be liked. Understanding that it really doesn't count and is artificial if I'm not being myself is crucial. So I am still processing this, but I feel like this is an important discovery about myself. I don't need to try to guess at whether or not I will say the right thing or do exactly what's necessary to "win" a girl over or whatever. I will probably be awkward. Or forget a birthday. Or completely disagree on something. That's okay. I'm not perfect... I shouldn't expect myself to be, because no realistic woman is expecting that of me, either.

The convicting part of this epiphany comes when I take the plank out of my own eye... Do I expect things of other people? Is that why I assume women do the same for me? Is expectation the wrong word? Is it simply that we all have desires and wants and that's okay when they don't mesh and result in marriage? It's challenging to consider that I might hold people up to a standard of perfection that isn't fair...

In any case, I feel a small burden lifting in this area of relationships. I'm thankful to God for even this seemingly basic revelation. Maybe most of you readers are thinking to yourself, "Duh.", but for those of us who missed that bus back in high school, it's amazing the promise of freedom that is offered when I start believing I don't have to guess how to get a girl to like me, do everything perfectly so she doesn't stop liking me, etc. I can just be myself... Strange. So cliché, but so necessary and for me, hard to do.

Eat My Flesh, Drink My Blood

I read something in "Battling Unbelief" by John Piper the other night and it really got me thinking. He was talking about how believing, if we view that as agreeing with certain facts, does not equal the same thing as... finding satisfaction in something. In the Bible, Jesus talks about being the Bread of Life and about being Living Water. He said crazy things like, "Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you". What does that mean? He didn't say, unless you believe that I am the Bread of Life. He said, "Consume me! Let Me satisfy your hunger and thirst." There's something about consuming, enjoying, experiencing, partaking in, being satisfied by God that goes way above and beyond just agreeing with facts.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but I know it helps put words to the typical discontented feeling I have towards Christianity in general when it is reduced to believing certain statements and doing certain behaviors. There doesn't seem to be anything life-giving in that. But, in those times when I question where the substance of those things lies, I remember the stories of Jesus talking with the lady from Samaria, and Him telling her, "but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again." There's something satisfying and filling that we should experience with God that goes so much deeper than thinking that something is true. I believe we landed on the moon (mostly) and the Bible says that demons believe in God and tremble at Him... so there has to be more to Christianity than assenting to a set of ideas.

I Met Bill and Pondered My Life's Purpose

I just finished watching the movie, "Meet Bill". I can't whole-heartedly recommend it, as there's some unnecessary stuff and many could easily be offended by it. But the major premise with the movie seemed to be about the main character, Bill, and his coming to terms with how badly his life sucked and how he wasn't living his life for himself. He was completely passive and living out of duty and obligation, simply catering to whatever people expected of him. The movie is sort of his awakening and journey towards breaking free from that.

And it makes me wonder... am I happy with the life I am living? Am I proud of it? Am I pursuing something that is fulfilling, satisfying or purposeful? Am I just doing things because they are expected of me?

It seems like life just keeps rolling past, and if we aren't careful, we will miss the moments, the opportunities to grab it by the reigns and make something meaningful out of it. I imagine it will take some blood, sweat and tears, but it will be worth it in the end.

Who are you? Who am I? What do we want to be known as? What kind of person do we want to be remembered as?

Do we have the luxury of asking these questions? Is it too youthfully naive? Too idealistic? Should I be more practical and prudent? Should be more grateful and content with where I am? Should I accept my lot in life and just be happy with where I am? ... Do other people ask these questions?

I'm not sure where these questions are going, but... I think it's crucial I ask them... Life is simply too short to just coast through it doing or being whatever is most convenient or expected or demanded of us. The path of least resistance just doesn't seem like it's the path worth taking.

The Passive Man and Fear

I've been learning a lot lately about passivity. Hmm, let me rephrase that. I've been recognizing lately the unhealthy effects of being passive. (It's not like I've been studying to understand passivity better). And more specifically, I'm realizing that being passive is antithetical to being a strong godly man.

Being passive is being fearful.

When I don't make a decision or let someone else's decision dictate what I do, I am revealing that I'm afraid of failing and afraid of succeeding. This might not be how other passive people operate, but for me, it's an indication of deep fear. For me, being passive is a cowardly way of avoiding responsibility. If I don't make the decision, I can't be held responsible. While that mindset points towards a cowardice in me, it also reveals a deep distrust in the heart of God towards me. It shows that I'm still operating out of a performance mentality. God must only be pleased with me because I'm doing things just right and if I choose wrong in this situation, I will be disconnected from Him with no clear way to fix it. I think that's what I must think in times of indecision. I fear that by choosing wrongly and "failing", that God will not stay with me or something. I'm learning that that's not true. God has promised explicitly through the words of Jesus that He will never leave me or forsake me. Even if I choose poorly, or stupidly. Even if I cause a shit-storm of pain and harmful consequences. He will still love me and He will still walk with me through the aftermath. And! What I'm also seeing is the pain and numbness that passivity causes in me. Something dies in us with inactivity. Someone once said to me, "God can't steer a ship that isn't moving." That sounds like it belongs on a church sign... but I can see some deep truth in that. Moving, acting, risking... all these things reveal a deep trust in God's abiding love for us. We aren't afraid to mess up. But if we cower back from decisions, because we're afraid to incur His wrath by choosing incorrectly, OR to mess our lives up and cause ourselves deep pain, we start "losing heart". Literally, our heart starts dying. I don't get why, but it does. Being passive and being passionate, while having similar letters, are almost mutually exclusive. Unless you're passionate about being passive... but then you aren't being passive about being passive... eh, I'm digressing. We have no passion in life if we are afraid to act, to choose. And I read this awhile ago, but it haunted me:

"But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death". Revelation 21:8

Now, I'm not good at talking about the wrath of God and I disbelieve strongly in motivating people through fear, but this jumped out at me. Cowardice is in the same list as sexual immorality and murder. (Obviously, there is forgiveness and new life in Jesus Christ, so this isn't intended to cause alarm as to one's salvation or anything). I just never thought of cowardice as something that God didn't like, nor did I consider bravery something to admire or extol. And it's easy to leave the bravery to soldiers and firefighters and leave the cowardice to the Judas's and the Ceasar in Gladiator who stabbed Maximus with the knife before fighting him... But what about our lives? What about the cowardice that keeps a guy doesn't ask a girl out? What about the bravery involved in telling a friend a hard truth of something unhealthy they are doing and sticking around for the backlash and restoration? We don't typically think of our lives that way—at least I don't. What if God is frustrated, no—angry—when we shrink back? Like a father who would be disappointed and hurt if his child didn't do something because of their fear of failing and that it would somehow make their father love them less? What if God would rather have us DO something even if it meant it wasn't best, rather than not making a decision because we couldn't see a safe and comfortable outcome? What if our decision making brings the heart of God deep joy because it belies our unwavering trust that even if this situation doesn't go well, God will walk with us through it? I don't want to live with these kinds of fears anymore...

So this is what I'm learning. Also, in relation to the fear of success which I mentioned earlier, I am not sure why, but something about succeeding, about winning is awkward. I'm not sure if it is a fear that pride will creep in or a fear that succeeding will raise the bar of performance too high for me to continually reach? I haven't figured that part out yet.

I do know this: when we don't grasp how deeply that God loves us, that He has adopted us into His family in the best sense of the word, that He delights in us and nothing we do can separate us from Him, we will always be afraid to succeed or fail. I know I have been. But if I will rest and abide in His loving presence, then I can fail without losing heart and I can succeed without having to find some false humility or bashfully accept compliments. I can accel and falter along the journey, with a freedom and a peace that I am deeply loved regardless. And I think if I lived this way, and if you lived this way, the people around us would see that, the freedom in that, and would want the same thing.

Hearing God

I started reading Dallas Willard's Hearing God, and only on the first page, it was piercing through me, directly to the pains and confusions that have surrounded this idea in my life for years. Here's part of the first page of the preface:

Among our loneliest moments, no doubt, is the time of decision. There the weight of our future life clamps down upon our hearts. Whatever comes from our choice will be our responsibility, our fault. Good things we have set our hearts on become real only as we choose them. But those things, or those as yet undreamed of, may also be irretrievably lost if our choices are misguided. We may find ourselves stuck with failures and dreadful consequences that must be endured for a lifetime.

Then quickly there follows the time of second thoughts—and third, and fourth: Did I do the good and wise thing? Is it what God wanted? Is it even what I wanted? Can I live with the consequences? Will others think I am a fool? Is God still with me? Will he be with me even if it becomes clear that I made the wrong choice?

As soon as I read that part, I admit, I had tears running down my face. Those questions are the exact ones that plague me constantly. I'm not sure how I got to this spot, so haunted by what-ifs, so fearful of an unknown future resting on my ignorant decisions. But I'm really looking forward to reading this book. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.