The Red Pill Manifesto

Finding Your Muse Class #1

2011-01-30T22:06:00.000-08:00

So I’ve started taking a creative writing class with the Alexandria Writers Centre (http://www.alexandrawriters.org/). The class is called “Finding your muse”. I decided to take it hoping to give a bit of a jump start to my creativity. Had the first class last week & it was fabulous (class #2 this week was postponed on account of snow). First class was talking about a lot of writing theory & just how/where one gets inspiration & such. The Alexandria Writers Society subscribes to the ‘free fall’ method of writing where you try to turn off the internal editor & just let things flow out. The idea is to turn off the critical side of the brain & get the creative side going & spilling out. To illustrate we did a writing exercise in class where the instructions were to start with the phrase of “I remember when” and then just keep writing for 15 minutes without putting pen down, or pausing, or trying to come up with something. Just relentlessly put down on paper whatever came to you next without trying to force it. The hope is that in the creative outlet you find nuggets (i.e. gold) that you want to hang on to & build from.

So, this is what came out in my first free fall session:

“I remember when” is apparently not a phrase that triggers anything specific. Instead there is the jumble of thoughts. Memories of a boy in the prairies, some my own, some the imagery of the idealized prairie life… open fields, the wind in the wheat, great seas of grain whispering with the voice like the sound of many waters, stillness, blue/clear sky, open as far as the eye can see. A small stand of trees, Savannah-like. And now the trees come into focus, standing shade, gnarled branches, arching out & up from their base making lazy journey to the sky, hands reaching upwards in beauty, grace, praise and quietness. Going nowhere important but speaking in the silent hundred years journey from seed to sapling to tree to old growth, ancient with the knowing of years beyond what we can measure or hope to see. Long forms leaving marks of shadows on the earth around them, bringing shade, comfort, home, shelter for birds and animals and the occasional boy looking for place, for purpose, for home & belonging, and path & place. And so the dialogue begins between man & tree, pen on paper, whispers of wind through leaves, the ancient speaking without words to the finite, limited, sand through hourglass , days of the racing clock man who has not seen the summers and winters that shaped these branches to their open handed pursuit of sky, or the twisted turn of trunk to bend, move, embrace the path of time ahead, always moving forward, relentlessly, unchanging in desire for growth, to reach for sun, to sink down deep for moisture and nutrients, to find food rooted deep in soil and find a mirror through ground; reaching down as far as up. Sky & earth meeting, joined in union by one tree that embraces both worlds. The world of dark, dense, rich soil and the world of seemingly empty, open sky.

So, funny thing is that as I’m going along in this, I’m thinking, “wow, I sound like I’m on crack, talking to a tree. I so need to pull this back on track to something that makes more sense.” But I just kept trying to be ‘faithful to the work’ & put down on paper the things that came to me next.

And yeah, I’m pretty proud of the above. Not that it’s something I created exactly, I was just conduit. I just scribed down what I was seeing/hearing. Honestly, the above is teaching me a lot and I’m now contemplating a lot the ideas of the hundred(s) year perspective and wrestling with my perspective that the hourglass sand of my life is draining way quicker than I hoped vs. this idea of the slow ripple effect of a life that can impact generations to come. I’m also thinking lots about the idea of us as ‘anchors’ & ‘mirrors’ – embracing heaven & earth like the trees do… Anyhow, lots to think about & I was ready to not write any of this ‘cause I thought it sounded dumb.

Next writing exercise was just fun. We had to write down 3 descriptive phrases on a piece of paper. Then we pass the paper to the left & the person on the left picks one of the phrases & we include that phrase or something about the phrase in our writing. We write for 1 minute & then the next person reads a phrase & we have to keep the story going using that phrase. Kind of makes the writing a bit forced & contrived, but it’s amazing that you can actually get a half decent little ‘tale’ pumped out under pressure creativity. The other people in the class had way better stories than mine, but here’s mine. Oh & note the 4 phrases we had were:
- heartfelt wishes
- cabbage soup
- a grumpy old dog scowl
- the cactus garden

Her smile said more to him than words could ever speak. The way her eyes looked gently at him, embracing him without a word, speaking that she delights in being close to him hearing his words. /their hands touching, memories of his grandmother’s cabbage soup, the aroma, smell, the rich red reminders of home and family; the soup dark, red, like blood in veins, the flush of cheeks on a cold winter day. His grandmother, her scowl like a grumpy old dog, yet somehow beyond the scowl, worn from years of hard life, there was love. And so here, by the cactus garden in the zoo, this woman, once stranger, felt suddenly like home.

Advent Contribution: Love

2009-12-07T14:04:00.000-08:00

So, a friend has the fabulous idea to do a living advent wreath at church. The advent wreath contains 5 candles. The four in the corners stand for hope, joy, love & peace, the centre one for Christ. My friend wanted to have 4 people stand up representing each of the 4 candles. He asked me to represent 'love'....

As per usual, I'm never sure whether I got the task right or put together what was wanted. Ultimately, I just tried to be honest with where things are at for me. I was all inspired by a beat poet commentary on John 4 another friend used in their sermon & so I wanted to do something cool & beat-poet-y, but I've got no rythm & flow, so I did the best I could.

the ideas for this came together over a few days as phrases/thoughts/images came to my head as I was not doing other things that required active higher concentration brain functions (driving, walking, cleaning, etc.) normally when I write stuff, i try to do things on 'first take', as it seems more raw than editing a lot. This one I took the time to edit (& could probably still tweak it).

A person forgets how the vulnerable thing works. When I started writing, I was all 'no big deal', but then as it got closer & closer to sharing this in public, it all went to crap. The night before I'm printing it off thinking what utter crap this all is. On Sunday, I'm all wrecked from a sleepless night (too much on my mind with all this), feeling like what I've written is way too serious or isn't for the crowd assembled & realizing how few people I really 'know' at church anymore. Realized how much it felt like dropping your pants in front of a crowd of strangers. Also felt a lot like a suicide bomber - the incredible exploding man who for the entertainment of the masses/a cause blows himself up & splatters bits of his guts on everyone.

When I shared I was so nervous. Couldn't make eye contact, my heart was racing, adrenaline screaming through my veins, stomach flopping. And when I'd finished I was shaking & was covered in sweat.

Again, I guess it's the stuff I take for granted with some of the amazing friends I have that I can be fully vulnerable & it's all no big deal. But because of that I've forgotten what it feels like to be mass market vulnerable. I was probably acting like a jerk to people afterwards 'cause people wanted to talk to me & I was kind of brushing them off. I didn't mean to be rude, I just couldn't really talk. Not speaking was kind of my equivalent of going, "excuse me, I need to go find some pants to cover things.... "

And yeah, sharing this stuff has the added 'cost' of that it's kind of let the cat out of the bag in my own heart. I've been managing the ache OK for myself. I've been struggling with the ache of friends & trying to intercede for them. The intercession has been good, but I'm trying to hang on to hope for friends who feel like they have lost hope & that has gotten overwhelming. (I've taken to wearing my 'blue lantern' ring as a crutch - whole 'nother story there). But yeah, opening this stuff up for me has kind of broken some flood gates. Found myself sobbing at least twice on the plane (or maybe once before boarding & once on the plane, or maybe more than twice)... and now it's kind of touch & go whether I hold it together or not. It's maybe not that bad. I'm hoping it's all 'birth pangs', but it's starting to move out of the realm of manageable.....

Anyhow, here's what I shared

I ache for love
Her face haunts my dreams
I hear her voice on the edges of my thoughts
The sound of her laughter comes carried on the wind
her smile flashes
her eyes sparkle
Always
ever
Just out of reach

i ache for love
"She" is the woman I haven't met yet
or haven't recognized
She is the woman I love
My Eve
the one that makes me feel like I have seen
woman
for the first time

I ache for love
The ache,
the constant, open wound
like the place where adam lost his rib
is more manageable some days than others
There is an empty space in my bed
That I leave open for her
It reminds me of the person that isn't there
Most nights I sleep OK
Though most nights I stay up too late
to drive myself to exhaustion
So that the empty space doesn't swallow me
leaving me to stare at the ceiling all night
waiting for sleep to claim me
and put to rest the thoughts that torment me

I ache for love.
I am the sideshow
here for the entertainment of the masses
Step right up ladies & gentlemen
come see the 37 year old virgin
(you don't see many of these in captivity anymore)
This one's a real catch!
He's got a career,
a stable job,
his own house,
a good church going boy
He's good with kids
& he cooks!
and he's still single...

I ache for love...
Before, being single was a gift
finding freedom & community with friends
the solitary forming families
Now it feels like being single
is an obvious mark of defect
like my 'best before' date has expired
and I should be thrown out like old milk
It seems to others
that my singleness is something they can easily fix
So I endure endless suggestions
Have you tried eHarmony?
how about speed dating?
you're looking too hard
you're not looking hard enough
you should stop looking
you should get a new look
what about her?
You have so much in common
You're both old & desperate
How about that one?
She still has a pulse.
you can't be too picky at your age

I ache for love.
that kind of help I don't need
and I sure don't need pity
If you really want to help
find love
romance your beloved
bring her flowers & laughter
out of the overflow of love & joy
bring him tenderness and understanding
out of the fires of respect & adoration
Try to fill anothers ache for love
Maybe that will remind me
and my other single friends
That love exists
that fairy tales come true
that maybe,
just maybe
we will find the ones we ache for

I ache for love
Is she still out there?
Maybe the woman of my dreams
Is just a dream?
Maybe she doesn't exist
Maybe I'll never find her
Maybe I've missed her
Maybe she won't want me
What if I'm not enough?
Not handsome enough?
Not wild enough?
Not stable enough?
Not confident enough?
Not cool enough?
Not thin enough?
Not christian enough?
Not fun enough?
Not good enough
Not this enough
Not that enough

NO!!!!
LOVE ACHES FOR ME!!!
The love of Jesus pursues me relentlessly
I am the bride taken from His side
where the blood and water flowed
I am His prize
I am His favorite
I captivate Him
He delights in me
He is ravished with my feeble heart
He came for me 2000 years ago
and He fights for me each day
to keep me back from shame, fear and despair
It is His love that defines me
His voice that says I am worthy of love
And though the heavens feel like brass
and my prayers feel ignored
and it seems He's forgotten me
and doesn't feel my ache
I know somewhere beyond the knowing
that I am loved
that God is with us
That change,
salvation,
fulfillment of hope
is just around the corner

and so I wait
and ache for love
even so, come quickly

Single white male seeks relationship.....

2009-10-09T00:33:00.000-07:00

So have been thinking that I need to get into the internet dating world again. Just looking to find someone & realizing that my circle of friends is maybe not going to get any bigger without me trying to do something to expand it.

My previous experiences with internet dating have been pretty mixed. Met maybe a couple of really nice people (and the odd crazy - that is 'odd' as in an odd number as opposed to just one person that was both odd & crazy, though I think I met her, too). More of an issue was just the painfulness and unnaturalness of the whole process. In the last go round, I was trying internet dating and looking to buy a new car at around the same time. In the end I started putting together spreadsheets for both car selection and dating selection. You know, basically weighing out the pros & cons of each of the makes & models out there and trying to figure out which ones I should 'test drive'.... yeah, oddly enough kind of sickening....

...in the end I bought a car & really like the car....and i'm still single. Didn't really end up going on too many dates.... found that finding the best sounding profile means nothing. Romance is that mystery thing of where you either click with someone or you don't.

The whole thing of internet dating feels sort of degrading, though it's maybe one of the few ways to meet people these days as our communities are non-existent and we grow more & more isolated in our north american insanity. Again, one of the challenges is how do you judge a person by their profile? And on the flip side, what do you put in your profile? Reveal too little & you sound like everyone else out there. Reveal too much and you sound either odd crazy, desperate or well, naked & overexposed...

So, when it has come time to put together a new dating profile for this go round, I've been stuck for months on this question of what to put in a profile. What do i say about myself? Me who is so used to listening to other people's stories and seeing/helping others see the significance of their lives, I have forgotten how to hear my own story.... and so yeah, i was at a loss til one day in church I was thinking about it all and heard the phrase "once upon a time...." in my head...

...and so I felt that was an encouragement to tell my story in a profile. To try to distill 37 years of life into 2000 characters or so. This took a while to get around to & to let the story work itself out. But, last Saturday in the middle of a quiet morning at home, the story worked it's way out...

...and now that it's out, all the urges for internet dating, etc. have been sort of taken away.... (which is maybe just as well since they don't seem to be able to put my profile picture up).... I'm kind of back to being contented being me and more willing to let life come as it may.

In the end, I think I'm the one that needs to fall in love with me before I maybe find a woman who does. Looking at my 'story', I think, "man, that guy's weird, but I'd date him".... I know it sounds silly, but there's something healing in that.

Anyhow, here's my story/profile:

Once upon a time, a son was born to a carpenter who wanted to farm & to his beautiful bride who longed to teach children to read. The son & his 2 brothers were raised in the flatlands where they were taught to love God, love people, ive simply, give generously, stand up for the oppressed & savour the richness & beauty of the land that sheltered & fed them. As the boy grew he lived full of dreams; dreams of experiencing adventures, battling injustice & finding true love. As the boy grew to a teen he found the world was not as he was told; that image, popularity & conformity were valued over adventure, justice & love. The boy felt lost in this new world &, while he tried to fit in, he found himself more and more alone. As the boy grew into a man he continued to wrestle with this duality, splitting his time between a 'respectable' job & the dreams of his youth. In the wrestle, the man would spend increasing amounts of time trying to minister to the poor, to inspire creatives, to awaken hunger for truth in the hearts of people, to walk alongside the broken in their dark valleys and point them to light. All this 'trying' continued until one year when his God relentlessly tore it all away until all that was left was the man & God's relentless love for him.

Since then, the man has been learning. Learning to live in wonder, to see beauty that makes his heart ache, to find joy in each moment, to celebrate again the simple things and the rich gift of life. Learning to be; to let life flow out of who he is instead of trying to be someone else. Learning to find rest. Learning to live in hunger and to embrace ache without fear. Learning to be loved & learning to love relentlessly. Learning to dream again...

And the boy who grew into a man still dreams of finding true love; of a best friend and equal partner in adventure, life, battle and ministry. His search for her continues to this day.....

Lost enough to be led

2009-09-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

I stopped blogging a while back 'cause people were saying my writing sounded a tad on the crazy side.... well, maybe they put it better than that. But something to that effect. Something like, "a girl probably wouldn't be interested in you if she read some of the things you write." Again, not an exact quote, but you get the idea. So I stopped for a while.... and still single (though I guess I could not be if I wanted to... not sure my crazy writing would scare off some people)... so yeah, not talking crazy hasn't seemed to help the dating situation, so might as well just go back to being me & writing what comes to mind.

Last night felt like a total waste. Came home & watched 'City of God' which was supposed to be, from what I was told, a really beautiful/fantastic movie. It was about the gangs in the slums in Rio De Janeiro and yeah, maybe a good movie somewhere, but not really so beautiful. Found myself bored with the movie & just aggravated. There was so much evil in there, lots of crime and violence. I kept waiting for someone to shoot Li'l Ze' to end the little tyrant's reign. Just another stupid bully. As the movie wore on I was sort of hoping that everyone would get wiped out. It didn't feel like there was maybe even one soul that wasn't evil in that place, or at least substantially touched by it, or easily drawn into it....

... today in Wal-mart saw some dad yelling at his little girl promising to her that he'd never take her shopping again unless she picked something now. It is so hard to know when to step in. For all I know the kid could've been being a brat & this was the best way to try to bring discipline to her out of love. My initial reaction was that it was one more child in an adults body who had no idea how to parent & who is likely causing all kinds of damage to their kid, who will then damage their children, and their children after them.... looking at the cycles of abuse & damage, I left feeling kind of hopeless and thinking again that maybe God's judgement on our society is the most merciful thing he can do. Maybe it would be for the best if God wiped humanity off the planet. For all the ways we damage each other, maybe we'd be better off if it all just ended.....

... normally I'm the one begging for God to intervene, to show mercy. Normally I side pretty heavily on the side of people & cry out that we're sheep that have gone astray & we need our shepherd to lead and guide us. I am noticing more & more lately that I am less willing to intercede for humanity as a whole. I could've sworn that there is a passage in the Bible where, after all the times Moses reminds God of His promises and pleads with God to not wipe out Israel, Moses finally loses it & is giving God permission to wipe out Israel & God has to talk him off the ledge.... I can't find that passage any more. Not sure whether I just made it up or if it's some other kind of sign.....

... was listening to Rich Mullins' "The Jesus Project" today. Man that brings up memories. I put together an 11 week bible study framed around the songs of the album. It was a labour of love both for Rich, as he had died shortly before the album release, and Jesus. I had to fight so hard to get that in. I felt like I was constantly having to prove myself to Norm & constantly being talked about negatively by Steven. I just got this vibe from them always that I was doing the wrong things. Maybe I was. Not sure if they wanted me to do some Bible study book or what. Maybe I wasn't studying the Bible so well because we worked through topics/concepts/questions instead of just the Bible. I do remember moments from that study though, some that were beautiful, or at least seemed to be right & opened people to pondering Christ if not maybe encountering him. Who knows what happened. It was shortly after that that I switched up the group to being a sports night get together 'cause people seemed to be wanting something other than a Bible study. Maybe I read that wrong, too. It wasn't long after that that things started to fizzle & I ended up leaving anyhow.... that became the first of many Bible study groups that I've managed to kill off in my chain of failure/wake of destruction :)

Listening today is bringing back so many things and putting me in touch again with old truths and things that touched my heart very long ago & are speaking to me again. Mostly realized today how much the gospel confounds me. I so used to think I understood how things work and it gets less and less clear every year. Jesus comes to earth to be saviour and has three years or so of visible ministry and then lays down his life and dies, is raised to life and then leaves. And yes, this has changed the world and the ripples are pulsing through my life today, but it is all just so counter-intuitive. I feel so strongly the ache to be able to make a difference, to be an agent of redemption and yet God's message seems to be so small scale; receive God's love, learn to love Him and be captivated by Him, love others, enjoy each moment as a gift/act of worship. That's it..... and like Naaman I'm standing by the Jordan looking for something great to do when all He asks for me to do is to be loved & love. This doesn't sound like a strategy for dealing with gang in Rio De Janeiro or crap parents in wal-mart... or the endless need/ache in the world around me....

It's no wonder I sound crazy. You stare into the sun too long you go blind. You stare into the light of Christ for too long and, well, it messes with the way you see things. You maybe find yourself, as Rich says, "lost enough to let yourself be led"; totally confused by what God is doing, but yet in awe and worship of how incredible and incredibly other He is, of how He works so differently than the ways of man. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, that which is born of the spirit is spirit. In all the trying to figure out stuff, it feels like a battle of the flesh. God, may your Holy Spirit quicken my spirit afresh. Show me what the true power of the gospel is. Lead me in this place of feeling lost.

“If you’re hearing this, you are the revolution.”

2009-09-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

These are the words of John Connor in Terminator Salvation. Not the greatest movie, but these words were like a knife to me. In the movie the idea was that any human left who could hear his voice was, by default, part of the revolution to prevent humanity from being wiped out by the machines.

In many senses, especially in light of the recent vision I had, the same is true of us. In so many ways, there have been systematic attempts to wipe out humanity – both from our own stupidity, foolishness, selfishness, greed, arrogance, hate, evil, and, in my opinion, the darker forces of the demonic. And where the world hasn’t killed us, it’s tried to own us, to make us slaves and labourers, to kill, if not our bodies, then our spirits, hopes, dreams, passions. There has been so much in our world as a whole, and, as we think about it, our lives specifically where we are lucky to be alive…

…and I think somewhere in that gift of life, is the message that we are, by default, part of the revolution. The revolution against fear, prejudice, hate, the revolution against selfishness, idolatry, the revolution against oppression, slavery, injustice. Really it is the revolution of love – true, selfless giving of ourselves, our time, our possessions, everything….

And so in many ways, I feel that for each of us who have physical life, or who have the spark of passion, of hope, of love, of joy burning in our hearts in whatever small fragmentary embers remains that the world hasn’t totally snuffed out yet, we are the revolution. It is our voices that need to be heard in the world. We need to be messengers of life, of hope, of dignity & compassion.

This brings a weight to our words, to our lives. Every moment is meant to be lived. To savour & celebrate the uniqueness of our creation, the gift of being made in His image and experiencing the gifts of life and relationship. And so in each word we speak, in each flavour we savour on our tongues, each time we laugh, each moment we celebrate, or weep, or rage. Everything we do out of the truth of who we are whether it be big or small, significant or insignificant, it matters. Each of us living our lives brings inspiration to others to live their lives. As we share our passions, it ignites the passions of others. As we bubble over with joy, it becomes contagious. As we walk in beauty, others find inspiration. As we weep and mourn, others find depths of heart/feelings that have been locked for years. As we rage & make others uncomfortable with hard words, we stir up the itches that can’t be scratched, the underlying cry for justice & mercy that all of us feel, but few find voice for…..

…and so there is a great need to not be silent, but to speak, to live, to act, to be larger than life, or, well, to just live life to the full, unashamed, unhidden, to let our lights shine before men & women….

So speak…. You are, after all, the revolution…..

….are you listening?

Wandering lost

2009-09-27T21:39:00.000-07:00

Went on a prayer pilgrimage with members of my church community. Missing some, feeling closer to others than expected. Last week the pilgrimage was called on account of rain & I was bitter & angry and very, very unhappy. I felt the most lost that I have maybe ever been….and with my near monthly mid-life crises, that’s maybe saying something. The prayer week opened up a door in me again, let me taste the sweetness of presence. I felt His delight over us, saw visions of the ways the enemies have tried to exterminate this generation (and everyone before) and how that God has been sovereign over it all and, in the midst of all the death & despair & ache & loss has been raising up an innumerable cloud/horde of worshippers, intercessors, witnesses… voices that will not be silenced, can not be silenced, all crying out for freedom, for justice, for the night to turn to day & the dawn to come….

…and I’ve felt lost because after tasting that, how do you go back to normal again?! And the sadder truth is that it’s far too simple to go back to normal, to feel the fire of His kiss start to fade on your lips, to, like Moses, feel the glory fading from your face as you are further & further from the closeness of His presence….the memory of it all is still there, burning like embers in your chest, but all the while you’re going through the motions of the normal routines of life….

So today I wanted to join pilgrimage… or, well, to be more accurate, yesterday I wanted to join pilgrimage. Today I was dog tired and grumpy and felt none of the fire or passion or even desire to go. But I went, wanting to participate, to have the chance at experience….and so we walked & journeyed led by our messengers of enthusiasm & loyalty (Justice the dog & Daniel & Jenn’s kids).

The pilgrimage wasn’t what I expected. Lots of great parts of seeing beauty both in the sense of nature as we walked the trails and green spaces of Calgary, and in the sense of beautiful houses as we strolled through some of the more opulent neighbourhoods in Calgary. Most of these places I’d never seen before in the 13 years of being here. I enjoyed the ideas/concepts/discussions brought on by the walk & the ‘activities’. There was a beauty in making ourselves foolish in some of the moments. But yeah, just not what I expected….

.During the walk the words of Psalms 121 came into my head where David speaks saying, “I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from where does my help come? My help comes form the Lord which made heaven and earth.” Someone postulated the idea, and I’m not sure whether it was true or not, that the song is one of pilgrimage from the yearly journey to Zion for the day of atonement or some other gathering of worship at the temple. The person postulated that the reference to ‘lift up your eyes to the hills’ was from where the journeying worshippers would see all the places of idolatry set on the hills, the ‘high places’ as the pagan worshippers would assume the mountains put them closer to their gods. The person sharing this idea commented that they thought the psalm was David asking people to look at all of these places of false worship & to ask, where is your help really coming from? And the hearts of the true worshippers would say, “it is from the Lord, Jehovah, Yahweh, the maker of heaven & earth.”

I’ve head it said that the best place to see Zion, or even the temple is from outside the gates of Jersualem on the hill where Solomon let his foreign brides worship their false gods. This was beside Gehenna, Jerusalem’s garbage dump which burned with continual fires and became a metaphor for Hell.

As we walked today, metaphorically walking to Zion, I was hoping to see a bit more underbelly…. To have the high places pointed out to me, the seats of money & power in this city. The boardrooms and the backrooms, the places where lives are bought & sold. I was hoping to see the places of desperation, where there is ache & loss and heartache and people scrabble for morsels to feed their stomachs or their souls. I wanted to stand just this side of hell, to feel the stench fill my nostrils and the heat of the flame on my face…. Somewhere in there I was hoping to find desperation, and beyond the desperation hope, and beyond the hope was hoping to see revelation, again, of the only one who is our help.

But instead we walked & talked & saw beauty and clean. All of which is nice & great & there are lessons there… but it’s all harder to see, and I think I lost God in the middle of it all. Not that He wasn’t there, I just lost the sense of awareness. We talked about nice houses and money and need vs. want, enough vs. gluttony, nothingness & homelessness vs. just living vs. excess… and maybe in the end none of it mattered. As part of the journey they quoted Kierkegaard saying that seeking the kingdom of God isn’t about doing things or selling your house & giving it to the poor, seeking God’s kingdom is about seeking the kingdom, nothing else…. And as we wrestled with questions of money & life and what are we doing, all of which is good wrestle, we still lost the purpose which was to make the first commandment first and to just seek God….. and when we say we, really I mean, I because that’s all I can really speak for….

…. The rest of today has been a haze of tired & ache. I wanted to head to the U of C catholic community for mass tonight. Have never really been to a full mass & thought it would be a cool experiment just to learn what it looks like. Mostly wanted to go ‘cause I think the students that come to help at JLYS are fabulous people & they give a lot to our moms & kids & community and I wanted to go to the places where they are & worship with them, or at least see what worship looks like for them. But in the end, I ran out of time by trying to fit in making pizza and a having a nap and really needing to have just way more sleep. I should be cleaning my house, editing letters for Jason, putting together a dating profile, pulling in my hoses for winter before they freeze. But instead have been walking in a tired fog getting the bare minimum done to get me fed & have leftovers for lunches in the week ahead.

Watched the ‘Stone of Destiny’ tonight and that has led to a different haze. It’s a movie about four young people full with passion taking risks to steal back a symbol of Scottish freedom from the British who kept it under their throne as a sign of the subjection of the Scottish people. Watching the movie fuels the fires in me of ache for being significant, for making a difference, for bringing freedom to people, for igniting passion, for finding partners in crime and finding a courageous love. I’ve been all ache since finishing the movie. Restless. I’ve wanted to drive far & fast, to run out into the streets, to scream, to do something, anything to make me feel not caught in four walls, to not be caught in patterns of normal, not trapped by timidity or lack of vision. I want to talk to someone who understands this, to feel the strength of shared fire/passion. But in the end, many friends are away, or busy, or it really doesn’t matter. More talk maybe means nothing.

I feel the aloneness tonight of not being understood, of feeling foreign in my world & to my own people. I feel weak & cowardly because I talk instead of do. I feel foolish because I have no idea of what to ‘do’ and think that I should have better ideas & plans…

….and at the end of the day, the message is ‘love’…. That was what was spoken in ‘relentless’ voice to me in the middle of feeling lost… just love. It’s the simplest yet hardest, easiest & yet most courageous thing we can do. Love relentlessly like the relentless love we follow, who skips over mountains & hills……

Homeless

2007-06-19T23:30:00.000-07:00

I want to be normal, really I do. I've been struggling with comparison, looking at myself & not being quite satisfied with the collection of flesh & blood & thoughts & emotions & personality & experiences & random collection of stuff that makes up 'me'... i've been comparing myself too much with others.. Mostly it's that stuff of being Adam in the garden, feeling my nakedness & shame & that I walk from relationship & love & stand there going, "I was naked & afraid & so I'm hiding myself"... It's not hiding 'cause I'm so ashamed of who I am, it's hiding 'cause I'm afraid I won't be loved for being me...

& yeah, so I've been sort of trying to relax with this. For the most part it's been semi, psuedo-working... OK, so it works once in a while. Every so often, I'm cool & collected & feeling pretty happy & together. Other moments I'm comparing myself to others & either trying to be normal or extraordinary, or extraordinarily normal, or normally extraordinary, or some combination of impressiveness without weirdness that will make me look like a sane individual... someone who the world around could be friends with & sort of think is not off his rocker...

& part of this effort has been not writing. It hasn't been that hard. I've been busy, haven't had much to say, in general & specifically not for public consumption... But yeah, it's meant a hiatus from writing & posting things on the blog. 'Specially 'cause people read the blog & worry....

So yeah, again, overall there's been some really great moments over the last week or so where I've felt pretty comfortable being me. Even comfortable around people... Even went through a really low day feeling totally useless & like an oxygen thief (stealing air other people could be using) &, oh, managed to counsel myself off the ledge quite effectively & then ended up in a place where I felt 'useful' not in the sense that I did something grand, but just that I was me & God maybe borrowed my tongue for a while or maybe it was just that being me was/is actually a really good thing.

Anyhow. today at work, I had a good day. I was up super early (in a 7AM - super early for me anyhow). Managed to keep my spirits high even amongst all the BS & stupidity & managed to be sort of useful & productive & feel like I wasn't totally stealing my paycheck & managed to surf past tiredness & boredom to actually keep a flow of activity through the day....

...I felt normal... well, kind of...

I started the day ripping a bunch of music onto the computer to listen to. Started the day with Eminem's "Loose yourself". It's one of Em's tunes that I actually really like & listening to it today I felt again the desperation of

"You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo " - Eminem

and this song carried me through the majority of the morning. On the outside, I'm quiet, mild mannered engineer wandering the halls or sitting at my cube. Inside, I'm screaming the lyrics... feeling like this wild eyed, half crazed rapper with hungry kids, late on the rent, knowing that his families future depends on getting that one lyric right, seizing that one moment of being lost in the moment... feeling the desperation of life burning a hole through my chest, feeling the pressure of that one moment, that one shot, feeling the sand slipping through the hourglass knowing that there's only one life that I'm given & wanting to seize each moment & drink it deep...

This, by the way, makes it hard to not throw something at management & run into the sunlight to escape the 9-5..

...but I behaved &, after lunch settled back into being a good little worker bee without too much interruption. At the end of the day, I'm listening to Matisyahu's "Youth" & rediscovering the album after Rebekah & Nicoleta played me a track from it.... at the end of my work day, I end up listening to "Jerusalem" over & over again....

Jerusalem, if I forget you,
fire not gonna come from me tongue.
Jerusalem, if I forget you,
let my right hand forget what it's supposed to do.

In the ancient days, we will return with no delay
Picking up the bounty and the spoils on our way
We've been traveling from state to state
And them don't understand what they say
3,000 years with no place to be
And they want me to give up my milk and honey
Don't you see, it's not about the land or the sea
Not the country but the dwelling of his majesty

Rebuild the temple and the crown of glory
Years gone by, about sixty
Burn in the oven in this century
And the gas tried to choke, but it couldn't choke me
I will not lie down, I will not fall asleep
They come overseas, yes they're trying to be free
Erase the demons out of our memory
Change your name and your identity
Afraid of the truth and our dark history
Why is everybody always chasing we
Cut off the roots of your family tree
Don't you know that's not the way to be

[chorus]

Caught up in these ways, and the worlds gone craze
Don't you know it's just a phase
Case of the Simon says
If I forget the truth then my words won't penetrate
Babylon burning in the place, can't see through the haze
Chop down all of them dirty ways,
That's the price that you pay for selling lies to the youth
No way, not ok, oh no way, not ok, hey
Aint no one gonna break my stride
Aint no one gonna pull me down
Oh no, I got to keep on moving
Stay alive

[chorus]

And again, in the middle of my happy, productive day, my heart is captured again. I can't read my note's 'cause there are tears in my eyes. I start aching for a home I haven't seen yet, Jerusalem old & new whisper to me & call me as one of her sons to remember her stones & the dust of the city... my heart starts to pray for the peace of Jerusalem, 3000 years of struggle & conflict weighing on me. Isaac, Ishmael, their battle still raging through the centuries, promises of blessing for each & relationship with their true Father, the God of Abraham....

...and yeah, maybe this is a good thing that in a moment I'm in this zone of aching, groaning for kingdom, for peace, for reconciliation, for the plans of God & the kingdom of God to be made manifest... but I feel like a freak. I thought about writing something on facebook - updating my status to "kirk is praying for Jerusalem", or "Kirk is thinking about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict" or "Kirk is homesick for the old/new Jerusalem" & I stopped myself 'cause I'm thinking people are going to come with the white jackets if I'm not careful about my self expression in public forums...

...and so my 'normal' work day ends as it began - calm on the outside, aching, craving, groaning, screaming on the inside... and somehow locked in prayer that comes in bursts of petition, and long stretches of soul-ache...

Finally home, I settle back into normality. Supper, some TV, start mowing the lawn. An hour & a half later, the jungle is tamed & the lawn is now at levels acceptable for the neighborhood beautification group, the nazis that worry about how tall your grass is & how many dandilions you have. I don't really know my neighbors, to my shame, but I feel fear of their impressions of my messed up little lawn...

Exhausted, I rest in the tub for a while, then flip on the computer to surf the web for a bit & decide to thrown on Tiffany's latest album. yes, Tiffany, the chick singer from the 80's. She's still producing music, to her credit. Albums are maybe not the most noteworthy, but they don't suck. They're pretty good actually. Honest truth is that I had a crush on her when I was 15 (she was 16) & so I buy her albums as they come out, partly to follow her career, partly supporting her career as someone from my generation still pursing her dreams, partly as penance or something for silly teenage crushes.

I'm half listening to the album while doing other stuff & worrying about how to fit things into my week, when I'm interrupted by this song:

Streets of Gold - by Tommy Wright

He stands on a street with a jar at his feet and his arms stretched t'ward the sky
God's word in his grip, there's a song on his lips I would not be denied
Winos walking past see the change in his glass and the devil takes control
They commit their sin for a half pint of gin to help fight off the cold
They laugh & they joke, tugged his old tattered coat saying preacher pray for me
Satan made us his slaves, can three whores be saved? Will Jesus set us free?

He prays Father please forgive them, oh they know not what they do
If there's no more room in heaven for these forgotten few
Lord, give this beggar's mansion to these lost wandering souls
and when I get to heaven, I'll sleep on the streets of gold

He lays down his head on the mission's last bed as they turn out the front porch light
There's a knock at the door, is there room for one more? I'm sorry not tonight
But he gives up his place for the sidewalk on 8th where the angels take his soul

to a mansion so fair built for many to share there by those streets of gold
He prays Father please forgive them for they know not what they do
If there's no more room in heaven for these forgotten few
Lord, give this beggar's mansion to these lost wandering souls
and when I get to heaven, I'll sleep on the streets of gold

And I'm broken open. I'm choking on sobs as I think about being homeless in heaven, about Paul going, "I'd rather choose hell if it would mean one soul of Israel makes it into glory", about the heart of sacrifice & how it's my heart, too... and i question my home in the suburbs & my normal, safe life & I question how much I give & yet just pray for those who are outside & who don't have & i know that it's kind of OK, too... that God's got this heart of mine & there's plenty of room for sacrifice to come, plenty of spaces to lose myself in the moment... I think of Zephaniah 3:12 that I read long ago & seemed to misinterpret (maybe) that there would be 'poor' people in heaven & that somehow this shows the true beauty of God's people that we are made to minister & we are never left in this place where we don't have opportunity to show love, to give, to serve, to care for those who are in need... Reading it now, I maybe don't see the context of 'heaven' at first glance, but I do see why Jesus tells us that the poor will be always with us (Deut 15:11, Matt 26:11, Mark 14:7, John 12:8). We all need. We all have things to give. The best parts of humanity are when we give with a liberal heart...

...and so yeah, again, in the 'safety' of my suburban house, I'm caught with this desperation, this call to love & action. What do I do about it? Well tonight, I write this stuff & I sleep. Is this good or bad? It just is... tomorrow the sands start flowing again for another 24 hours & we see what gets fit into the moment... as I live the tension between grabbing for each instance & trying to have the faith that God has numbered my days & will give me as many as I need to accomplish his puposes.....

But yeah, part of me is getting more tempted to say @*&# normal.... maybe I should just settle in to being weird.

Sword thoughts

2007-06-08T00:05:00.000-07:00

"I give hope to Men," "I keep none for myself,"
- Aragorn in "Return of the King"

Random trivia off of IMDB:
"The last words exchanged by Elrond and Aragorn are "I give hope to Men," "I keep none for myself," are taken from Appendix A, in which the Elvish translation of those lines (Onen i-Estel Edain, u-chebin estel anim) are the final words of Aragorn's mother, Gilraen. Estel, meaning hope, was also the name given to Aragorn before his true heritage is revealed to him."

Ended up watching part of the 'Return of the King' tonight with new friends Rebekah & Nicoleta. Funny/odd stuff: felt a strong urge to make it downstairs to watch with them before the movie passed the part where Aragorn receives Anduril, the reforged Narsil (the sword I own is a replica of Narsil)..... so I feel tugged to go down & I'm sitting down in the chair as Elrond is presenting the reforged sword to Aragorn....

the other odd bit is that the quote above was rattling around in my brain earlier in the week & I couldn't remember where it was from.... now I know & so it makes me wonder of what awakenings, what significance this may hold in my life...

another odd bit is that I actually had the sword in the trunk of the car today. packed it in the car to bring to the community house with the possibility of bringing it out in some symbolic gesture of fighting the spiritual oppression that they seem to have been facing over the last number of weeks. The sword didn't make it out of the car, but the fact that it was there was interesting & made me wonder if maybe it's God fighting for my soul more than me trying to get Him to battle for others....

Have been thinking of Ezekiel's dry bone vision lately.... & seeing Aragorn walk through the halls of the dead & raise a vast army from the dry bones spoke volumes to me tonight...

...again, don't know what this means, but it felt very significant.... so thought I'd note it here.

Flush....(gurgle, gurgle)...what else do you do with crap?

2007-05-21T08:11:00.000-07:00

OK, so this is not really for you (the unseen audience), this is for me.

My head has felt really full today & I’m worried again (as a typical hypochondriac) that I’m losing my mind or going to suffer some mental breakdown. Maybe it’s lack of sleep, or that my body is finally starting to catch up from lack of sleep (been pushing too hard & burning the candle at both ends in Calgary & now that I’m at my folks for the long weekend, I’m catching up on some rest)… but my head has been going a million miles an hour this weekend & it actually kind of hurts. I’ve been trying to read & my eyes won’t focus well on the page as the tyranny of thoughts just keeps flooding my head….. I’ve tried painting, but that’s not cutting it. Part of it is that I’ve got a bunch of ‘projects’ on the go (about 10 G.I. Joe figures) & I sort of need to fix their eyes to be able to progress the figures & I’m trying to do it too quickly & just making a royal mess & the eyes are looking worse & worse & I’m just frustrated with that, too….

…so yeah, that’s not helping relieve the pressure behind my eyes… & I’m randomly snapping at my family. I want to be heard, but want to be left alone… I sort of have nothing to say unless it’s a whole great litany of long rambling thoughts about what I’m thinking through & I sort of feel like no one needs to or wants to take the time to hear all of my crap & so yeah, that’s why I’m turning to this, the written word, to try to put it all down & at least then it feels like I’m sort of ‘heard’, by the page at least, ultimately by the divine as He listens to me try to still my thoughts… (He’s been hearing the cacophony of my thoughts lately & the random whine of prayer asking Him to make it stop, or to fight for people, or to help make sense of things….)

So yeah, random thing to start: I long to be heard. Most of us do, most of us don’t feel heard, don’t feel like people really listen & understand… I don’t or at least not so much. I am likely heard & understood far more than I think, but this is an area of my life that I sort of guard…. I have these ways of testing the waters with people to see how much they want to listen. The more attentive they are, the more the guard comes down… but I find I don’t share so much with a lot of people ‘cause well, they’re either not interested or don’t have the time to listen – all of which is fine… but it just means that people don’t hear my stories so much unless they want to sit down & listen to the longwinded rambles… I have a pretty select group of people that I feel take the time to hear me & yeah, it’s maybe too bad for them ‘cause then I feel like I talk too much & spill out too much info….

… but I haven’t had a chance to unload in a while… & so that’s maybe part of my issues….

So what’s bothering me? A chunk of it is community house/urban monastery ([um]) stuff. The [um] is working through defining purpose, trying to come to a ‘rule of life’ that guides this new monasticism. This has also brought up a lot of other issues amongst the house asking for things like ‘greater commitment’ & ‘being intentional’. Some of it has sounded good, some of it has sounded like putting chains on ourselves; trying to give ourselves rules to work by, which just feels more death like to me… other friends talk of a ‘rhythm of life’ & it’s amazing how one word can make such a difference. Rule of life speaks to me of rigidity, structure, order - it’s been described to me as a framework to help things grow, but it feels like a set of rules that removes our thinking – we do what the ‘rule’ says & follow the directives or the ‘life-police’ will come & hunt you down for your lack of commitment to the rule. It just feels like it robs the free choice & I already scheme of how to break & bend the rules before we’ve even decided on what the ‘rule’ is… ‘Rhythm of life’ on the other hand, sounds so freeing, it’s something I can dance to… sure it involves an order, a framework, a structure, but it’s more fluid, open, able to change as we/I change & to grow with us. Mostly it speaks to me of bringing a regularity to life (e.g. it’s a Tuesday, therefore I should be here/doing this) that is set, but flexible, able to move as the wind of the spirit blows & says, throw away you’re carefully crafted plans, the Lover brings the unexpected & calls you to come leaping & skipping in the hills with Him…..

… but a lot of the [um] stuff has been conflict. Some people are not happy. Others are intensely happy, but their voices appear to be overwhelmed by the unhappy ones… though perhaps this is good & gracious as we love those who are not doing so well… it’s been 8 people living together & there is conflict & pain & hurt… Some people sound pretty hopeless about the whole thing & like living in the house has brought dearth (famine, desolation) into their lives… I think everyone there sees both good & bad & some maybe have more good or more bad, hard to say….

But I’ve been looking this as a community I care about & my problem solving side has come out trying to figure out how to fix things. I sort of tried to mediate one of the ‘doom & gloom’ meetings & it was an abject failure on my part. I made the mistake of trying to mediate to make people happy. It failed. I failed… It failed partially ‘cause I don’t think people want to be happy in some ways, but more importantly it/I failed ‘cause I completely missed the point of the problem. It’s not about the stuff being done or coming to some compromise, it’s about, well, in some ways it’s about hurt feelings which go deeper than I can solve, & more importantly, it’s about God’s calling, dreams, hopes, etc. that are part of the house.

& yeah, I’ve sort of been indirectly told (which may be just a misinterpretation, but it’s the interpretation that I’m pulling out of things) that I’m not in the house. I don’t understand, so I should just let those in the house sort of house stuff. Likely good advice, though it still makes me ache. I’ve pulled away from the house in the past for various reasons. I just haven’t been as present as I originally thought I would/should be… Again, I had my reasons. & I feel like I’ve failed people in the house & haven’t loved or been there enough. On the flip side, it’s not like there was that much calling me or trying to get me to hang out, so yeah, it’s maybe all even, or maybe my presence wasn’t as needed or missed or whatever… but yeah, now that I’ve decided to try to be more present, I feel less needed/wanted ‘cause I’m an outsider to what goes on. I feel forgotten in a lot of ways, again, which is fine in some senses… but yeah, it’s just a tad alienating…..

…& so there’s the frustrations of powerlessness. I can’t help, maybe shouldn’t try… or maybe I should, but I don’t know how. I can listen, but all that is is me absorbing the venom of all the painful feelings & thoughts ‘cause I’m an outsider who can buffer some of this – listen to the venting so people can ‘deal with’ things without actually confronting people. Maybe this makes things better, maybe it just exacerbates the problem…

But ultimately I’m sort of back to being on the fringes, for better or worse. I’m not so happy about it, especially after seeing a bunch of e-mails talking about next phases of working this stuff through, but I guess I need to learn to step back & let people figure stuff out on their own. It’s not like I’m much of a help anyhow, I can’t even figure out my own life….

…and that’s been the other struggle, maybe the deeper one… I’m back to wondering what I’m doing with me… After the night of botched mediation I wished that people would just share their passions & dreams & then I’d help facilitate putting that together into a composite picture that embraced all of the dreams. This is the crazy stuff I think, but that’s part of the mix of being pastor & artist & storyteller – it’s trying to see how stuff fits together, looking at the pieces God’s put in place & go, ah, here’s the picture God’s trying to paint…. But yeah, thinking about this made me wonder what my passions were.. & for this I sort of have no answers.

As a pastoral/shepherd type person, part of my life & joy is lived in watching others grow. Want to see me near giddy? This happens in the places & moments where the people I love somehow ‘get it’ – where they gain some new understanding about themselves or God or their place in life, where they end up doing what they love, when there’s this moment where they come alive… See somehow that stuff makes it all worthwhile for me. I’ve had people speak words over me about me being a ‘bridge’ & I get this imagery of laying my body out across this chasm & people walking across on my worn out corpse to reach the higher places that they are destined to walk in… In some ways a good picture, some ways kind of depressing… It’s like a teacher who spends long hours preparing lessons & sits there most days thinking their lives mean nothing & then bumping into a former student who, years later, somehow credits that teacher with some of their success… it’s not a fun calling, but it’s just part of it. I live to serve in some ways, I live to try to make the world better for others & this brings me, well, it brings a lot of pain for the most part ‘cause the need is so great & I’m pretty small & it’s pretty rare between all the pain you endure & help others shoulder & the moments of where you see that your labour is not in vain are pretty few & far between, but in a funny sense, those few, rare moments of where you see someone step into the light of who they really are & you see them blaze with the brilliance of their creation, & see the supernova clarity of that smile that awakens as they realize the wonder of their lives, the deep, rich pleasure that God takes in them… well, these moments kind of wash away years of drudgery & kind of make you forget all the crap you endured to see these friends reach this point…

…it’s like the birthing process (from what I hear), that seeing the little one sort of makes the pain of labour become a more distant memory (again this is just what I hear – not sure how true it is)…..

…but at the end of the process, what am I left with in my life after the above? Well, I get a bunch of people who I’ve loved & been hairy-legged cheerleader for & lots of times I’m forgotten by them & I really didn’t do much to ‘help’… I was sort of there, God used me however He does & used a whole lot of people & worked in these people’s own hearts & brought them from darkness to life & there’s really very little I can claim as ‘mine’ or as ‘my legacy’ other than that I was maybe faithful to the work once in a while & maybe didn’t screw up too much &was more or less obedient when I needed to be…. And ultimately I just join with everyone else laying crowns down & saying, “worthy is the lamb who was slain to receive all honour & power & glory & praise”. At my very best, I’m an unprofitable servant, or a son who does what he sees his Father do….

& so my passion stuff, the things that makes me come alive are either the external stuff of helping others, which seems a bit more reactive &, at present, seems to be on an ‘as needed’ basis when I get brought into someone’s life in the crisis & am there for a bit & then they move on & I’m back to waiting for the next one. This makes me maybe too serious & not a lot of fun ‘cause I’m just looking for the next crisis, the next battle to step into…

…the other passion is intimacy – something I hunger for, but seem to never quite reach (which may be normal, as I’m learning). Both with God & people I hunger to listen to understand to know. God & people fascinate me & I live to understand hearts & the confusing mixture of what makes us us & what makes God who He is…

I also like to create & this is a necessity in my life….

Trying to sum this disjointing thinking up: Again, I gain joy from a) the sense of feeling like I’ve ‘made a difference’, 2) a sense of closeness/intimacy with the divine/with people, 3) being able to be challenged and/or to explore creative outlets… Is this good or bad? Fleshly or spiritual? Love or just self-love? I don’t know… I don’t know…. Is this noble or just selfish… maybe it’s all a load of crap & it’s just me looking externally to find a sense of self worth or to feel loved… maybe all of the above…

This is where the confusion comes in… A lot of things I’d trade just to latch onto one person to spend a lot of time with. I’m tired of saying goodbyes. I am afraid that I am no good whatsoever at relationship. The closest friends I have are still not seen that much. I feel psuedo-lonely sometimes – not a full blown loneliness, but it’s close… I would like to be married, or at least dating.. this all scares me ‘cause I don’t know really what those words mean & sort of expect to be not so good at either…. I’m hoping to find someone who will be patient enough to want to walk through my mistakes with me… someone who will take the time to listen to the stories I tell & sift through the crap to (hopefully) find a good & true heart buried under there… I hope that God makes my heart good, or true, or puts something beautiful there in…. I think there is, I suspect there is, but I worry some days that the dust has covered in & it’s now a little tarnished… or maybe wasn’t ever that noble & good to begin with….

…I’d like to think I’ve learned at least a little of how to love… it’s not perfect, but it’s kind of there… & I guess, like the community house, what you see depends on whether you focus on the bad or the good …. Lately I’ve been hearing the bad ‘voices’ (not real voices, thankfully) that sort of cast doubt on who I am… I haven’t fought that hard against them lately… the true me will be shown in the end. If I’m a man of low character, well, then I guess I should learn that sooner rather than later & can try to work on it. If I’m a man of good character & have a heart full of love, well, that’ll burn the dust away eventually anyhow…..

I’ve met some new friends, two ‘wild geese’ from Ontario who have helped turn my world sideways. These two women come into life here in Calgary & bring with them passion & prayer, laughter & scandal…. Mostly they bring true hearts, full of life & full of dreams & this belief that God is leading them & God will hear their prayers & God will move in their lives & the lives of those around them… Listening to them I hear my own heart from a number of years ago… In talking with them, the cynical part says “ah, they’ll grow out of that”, a statement which pisses off, well, pretty much all the rest of me & the warrior part comes out with this cry of intercession asking that God would make sure they never lose this passion, this crazy belief in who their God is… part of me wants to find some way to stage miracles for them – all painted backdrops & smoke & mirrors – to make sure their hope never dies…. Part of this is that if their hope fades, then the cynic is proved right & I really don’t want that… I’ve learned to be gentle with the cynic in me… really the dreamer & cynic in me are one… the dreamer is just the cynic on a good day where he believes. The cynic is the dreamer on a bad day where the dreams have been yet again disappointed…..

Ultimately these women need nothing from me. Their God (my God) will make His own miracles & handle His own PR, thank you very much… He’ll guard their faith (& mine)….but yeah, listening to them awakens part of me that has gone dormant…. I’ve backed away from ministry ‘cause it was my addiction. I gained a sense of worth from helping others & thought this is what made my life ‘valuable’…. I’m slowly learning that I am valued & loved period just because I’m me… but yet I’ve still been out of ‘ministry’ – not sure what that word means anymore & being afraid of picking up the needle again…

…and so the questions have been around what do I ‘do’ with my life. Do I find a cause, pour my being into it & hope it’s the ‘right’ cause? Do I wander around hoping that God will intervene & put me in touch with the people who ‘need help’ (if that’s a valid term)? Do I sit at home with my hobbies & g.i. joes & paint & try to feel happy about growing a personal life (which feels so empty in many ways ‘cause as much as I have learned to like being around me & just doing my things, well, it’s just me & it’s kind of lonely & empty without people (or at least someone) to share that with… At it’s very best, it’s like standing at Inish Mor alone hearing the thunder of waves & the beauty of this stark, stony green Irish island & having no one to share the joy of the moment with…..

So it seems that by just doing, I’ll expend my life & find no joy. By just being, I’ll enrich my life & find great joy, but none to share it with… & yes, life is about breathing in & breathing out, taking in life & then giving it out… So both the ‘doing’ & ‘being’ must find a rhythm in my life… but I guess I’m unsettled that maybe I’m not really finding either… or not the right balance… or maybe everything’s good cept that I feel alone in it…

…and I have a sermon to put together – trying to reveal the heart of Jesus through the foil of a scandalous woman… there are moments where the message feels brilliant & does Jesus justice in painting a picture of who He is. Other moments it feels like the biggest load of crap & trite sayings & a complete waste of peoples time…. How do you put into a 20-30 minute diatribe the wonder of who Jesus is when I barely feel like I’ve encountered Him myself….

… haunted by last night’s dreams of seeing gal friends in bikinis & wanting to stare & not wanting to stare – the mixture of being attracted to someone (both in a wholesome admiring beauty sense & in the unwholesome lustful sense) & wanting to stare & feeling awkward staring ‘cause they’re friends how are more than just a pretty face… the pull of lust as a coping mechanism has been tugging at me for the last week or so. Giving in in one way or another might bring some release from the noise in my brain – or at least numb it for a few minutes… but yeah, it’s been sort of nice this past week where thoughts of well, beauty, joy, good things, just this sense of feeling alive again, has sort of overwhelmed some of the coping mechanisms & makes me think I don’t really want to just cope anymore… I want to live…..

I don’t know what that means – this idea of really living – but I’ve been reminded of what it tastes like & I just don’t want to go back…. I was telling a friend about the Grand Inquisitor story in the Brother’s Karamazov & how at the end, after the Grand Inquisitor finishes his long tirade telling Jesus how He’s messing up the deal that the clergy have going, that Jesus kisses the Inquisitor on the lips &, shocked, the Inquisitor tells Jesus to ‘get out & never come back’… & then the parable ends about how the glow of that kiss haunts the inquisitor for the rest of his days….

I sort of feel like that, like God has brought this ‘kiss’ of life (figuratively speaking – no smooching for Kirkie lately) into my life & I’m standing at this crossroads of either changing things to risk & to live or that this kiss is going to haunt me for the rest of my days…. I’m sure this isn’t my last chance to turn things around, but I’m tired of the same things happening again & again in my life…. I just don’t know what to change or what to leave the same…..

OK, enough venting for tonight… has helped some…

Quote

2007-05-04T06:25:00.000-07:00

"To make life worth living a man or woman has to have a great love or a great cause... "

- Robert E. Howard's character in the movie "Whole Wide World"

Poetry to pass along

2007-05-04T06:24:00.000-07:00

I really liked this one:

Taken from the book "Good Poems for Hard Times" collected by Garrison Keillor

"At the Arraignment" by Debra Spencer

The courtroom walls are bare and the prisoner wears
a plastic bracelet, like in a hospital. Jesus stands beside him.
The bailiff hands the prisoner a clipboard and he puts his
thumbprint on the sheet of white paper. The judge asks,

What is your monthly income? A hundred dollars.
How do you support yourself? As a carpenter, odd jobs.
Where are you living? My friend's garage.
What sort of vehicle do you drive? I take the bus.
How do you plead? Not guilty. The judge sets bail
and a date for the prisoner's trial, calls for the interpreter
so he may speak to the next prisoners.
In a good month I eat, the third one tells him.
In a bad month I break the law.

The judge sighs. The prisoners
are led back to jail with a clink of chains.
Jesus goes with them. More prisoners
are brought before the judge.

Jesus returns and leans against the wall near us,
gazing around the courtroom. The interpreter reads a book.
The bailiff, weighed down by his gun, stands
with arms folded, alert and watchful.
We are only spectators, careful to speak
in low voices. We are so many. If we make a sound,
the bailiff turns toward us, looking stern.

The judge sets bail and dates for other trials,
bringing his gavel down like a little axe.
Jesus turns to us. If you won't help them, he says
then do this for me. Dress in silks and jewels,
and then go naked. Be stoic, and then be prodigal.
Lead exemplary lives, then go down into prison
and be bound in chains. Which of us has never broken a law?
I died for you -- a desperate extravagance, even for me.
If you can't be merciful, at least be bold.

The judge gets up to leave.

The stern bailiff cries, All rise.

Poetry

2007-04-23T22:12:00.000-07:00

Slow to wake once again today... the lack of sleep from just staying up later for no good reason has caught up with me... Have been fighting a bad headache most of the day... maybe it's from being too hot (making the mental note that spring is here & there is no need to wear a T-shirt under my dress shirt for warmth any more). Maybe from not hydrating enough.. maybe from change in air pressure, maybe from having too much hair & shaking my head to try to flip it off my brow (though it's not quite long enough for that), or maybe just from being tired.

managed to zombie through work today. Nothing pressing, nothing too exciting. Did some work & went home. Tried napping in my car over lunch & then returning to eat leftover fettucini alfredo & foccacia bread (both cooked yesterday for supper with a friend) at my desk. Had a nap after work, too. The mix of dreams sneaking in & leaving me restless as I (mostly) slept...

Awoke to a quiet house at 7 something PM, checked e-mail & facebook with not too much for new info from friends. Felt lonely in the middle of this, but again, parts of it was feeling generally grotty from the headache.

The headache just wouldn't leave today. After Nap II, ate some leftover stir-fry (chicken, veggies, cashews & a lovely orange-ginger sauce from safeway (V&H brand I think)) & watched an episode of Gilmore Girls. Garnered a few laughs from that... thought about proposals & marriage & kisses, which didn't necessarily help the loneliness....

Was hoping to relax tonight. To paint G.I. Joes & maybe do laundry. The headache sort of got in the way of my motivation, so decided to take the better part of valour & sink deep into a warm bath.... While in the tub fiddled with the assembly of G.I. joe parts into complete figures, trying to figure out the characters of the last couple of possible creations... thought about reading more in the adventures of the Green Lantern Corps, but settled in on reading some out of "Good Poems for Hard Times", a collection of poems gathered by Garrison Keillor that was recommended to me by two wise friends whose voices I deeply respect (one who owned the book, the other reading it for the first time)....

... last Tuesday, I had time to read the introduction to the book, along with Azar Nafizi's essay in the book "My sister guard your veil, My brother guard your eyes". Both passages both shook & comforted me. I've been meaning to write about it, but haven't sat down to scribble it all out yet. Both passages talked about the power of the written word & how many revolutions, & how many internal heart revolutions, are inspired by the written word. This has spoken to me deeply. It's funny how that in all my scheming of trying to figure out how to make a difference in the world, that I neglect my gift of writing. I wonder if it is a universal thing that we despise our own gifts because they are part of our nature - they are not 'easy', for truly most of our gifts cost us dearly, but they just 'are'.... I write because, well, that's what I do. It's in my nature, and so I don't treat it as something special - in the same way that I'm prone to not seeing myself as something special. I'm just me... Other people are amazing & breathtaking.. I'm just me. Maybe it's that I've lived with myself for too long & see all the mundane & forget the glory....

.... but this idea has been haunting me over the week. Especially in places like Sunday where I spent most of church in relative states of grieving. Weeping for the four characters from the Requiem movie, praying for sick friends & watching them to try to be there to catch them if they fell... in the middle of the frustrations, the 'heart sickness' if you will of hope deferred, of this sense of powerlessness of feeling crippled to help & make a difference in the world around me & the people next to me, there is still a voice that speaks of words to be written....

...though at the same time I keep hearing the words of Isaiah 40 quoted to me. In that passage, the Voice calls Isaiah to cry, to yell, to speak & Isaiah, or the voice in the wilderness, or Jesus oro someone, replies:

"What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: the grass withers, the flower fades: because the spirit of the LORD bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass. The grass withers, the flower fades: but the word of our God shall stand for ever."

Again & again, I think of 'what should I write', this is the words that I hear in my head. I have no great ideas of what to spill onto the page (other than the range of drivel & profundities that gets dropped into the blog).... & this quote doesn't help fill the gap or give any good story ideas or essay topics, or so I think. All it says is that we are fragile, we fade, we live in this moment of incredible beauty & then it's gone... all that is eternal is God, His words, His voice that speaks always....

...and there is an aspect of where this was felt in the poetry tonight... they are poems in the section called "Kindness to snails" & they are primarily poems of the incredibly mundane things - just life stuff. Lighting fires, starting cars, washing babies, cold mornings, being nice to a wayward snail... but in the power of words, all become touched with so much beauty. The artist's eye seems the moment, turns the lens of the literary camera ever so slightly to catch a different angle, a difference glint of light & in an instant the mundane whispers of glory. In a moment the flowers & grass become clothed more brilliantly than solomon in all his glory... and the most normal of things becomes extraordinary & leaves the reader breathless... in gratitude for the gift of another moment of life & in awe of being able to feel a fraction of what is being spoken....

In the middle of the words, while lounging in the tub, the headache faded, fog lifted.... yesterday at church we talked a bit about the speed of life & not leaving time for our souls to catch up... Somewhere in these moments of poetry, the soul finds home & rest.... and the loneliness fades as there is some connection between writer & reader, voice & listener.....

So I end my day, heart fuller than when I started. Head more clear. Tummy contented after being treated to chocolate ganache & strawberries. My skin still warm from the waters of the tub... there is such a beauty in the written word & I'm thankful that I have the gift to see that & be a part of it. Thankful to participate in the journey of 'the voice'... to speak & be spoken to, to know & to be unravelled in the process of being known...

Dipping in Jordan

2007-04-21T22:22:00.000-07:00

Catching up on some writing:

I've been dragged into joining the Facebook 'movement'. Haven't taken the time to figure it out, but, as a good thing, it puts me in touch again with some old friends who I miss deeply. (haven't e-mailed these friends so far or enough, but that's a whole 'nother story).

Thursday at work, I'm checking facebook briefly & see a friend who has been battling sickness comment that they believe they may have encountered a miracle.

At first my heart leaps. Miracles are what I & many others have been praying for for this friend. I search, I look for details on her facebook, then other people's walls, no mention of what this miracle is.....

...and then the questions seep in. I think well, how would this friend know that they were healed? Is it like "feeling a bit better" healed or "my body is totally back to normal" healed? What if the sickness has just gone away temporarily & they'll relapse back into pain again shortly? How long do you wait before you call a miracle a miracle? Maybe medicine is helping?

...on & on came the flurry of questions until I finally realized what I was doing & then I felt like carp (which is sort of like feeling like crap, but fishier - or just a typo - sorry, random attempts at humour in the middle of me berating myself... laugh time over, back to the winge-ing).

Here I am beating up on God for not 'answering' my prayers when I pray them & then I get this quick message that may indicate that God has healed & answered the prayers of a lot of people who've been carrying this friend to God night & day & what do I do? I don't believe it. I'm skeptical, I want proof.

And I think how sad this is. How rough I am on God, that He just can't win with me.... If He doesn't 'act' as I want him to, then I'm mad at him & walk off in a huff. If He does do something, then I don't believe that he's done anything & I'm inspecting his workmanship, looking for holes, waiting for it to fall apart so I can wave my finger at him & say, "see, I told you so.... you're not answering my prayers like I want you to."

My friend Sharon B., whose parent's are doctors, chides me for the way I talk about doctors like it's one big conspiracy & they're all trying to keep us sick. She reminds me of how I seem to keep asking doctors to be 'God' - to magically wave some wand & heal people....

... and I treat God like this, too. I blame him if things don't work on my schedule or according to my will....

...and the suspicion? well, maybe it comes from just an overactive desire to want to believe... I want to believe that divine healing is real... it's just a hard thing to 'prove' to others & hence hard to prove to me & yeah... like I said, God doesn't get a break.

When I pray for someone, I want this surge of electricity to flow through me, I want my hand to grow hot, enflamed by some holy energy that surges into the person I'm praying for & I hope for the rush, the gasp of breath, as the person I'm praying for feels God's power moving through them, reforming cells, knitting things back together, dead or broken tissue reformed & recreated... and then to see them leap & jump knowing that they are healed & they'll never have to face this particular disease again.....

...but it doesn't seem to work like that. A lot of it is communal healing. We pray, we cry for each other, we hope, we get angry together, we laugh & tell jokes & try to make light of it & cheer up the person who is in pain.... we secretly curse our weaknesses & wonder if it's us that's breaking the chain, if it's us that doesn't have the right quota of faith & is somehow blocking the miracle from taking place.... but mostly we love. We show that we care, that someone matters to us enough that we'll kneel, we'll surround them with hearts aching for their well being & wellness....

... maybe in this cold world, this circle of love is healing in itself. Maybe this display of tenderness is more precious than our bodies which decay & fall apart.....

.... I think of all the people Jesus healed, even those he raised from the dead. Eventually all of them had 'relapses' - they all died & are buried in the ground.... but it's the healing of hearts, of souls that matters in eternity & is why we still read their stories today....

.... maybe true healing comes with less flash, less showmanship... maybe it comes in secret, after the praying is 'done' (though really it's never 'done').... maybe we wake up some day & go, "wow, I think I've experienced a miracle" & we wait for weeks to ensure there's no relapse & we don't shout it from the mountaintops 'cause we're really not sure what brought healing... but somewhere in our hearts, we hold on to the secret, the hope that it was a touch of the divine transforming our lives....

.... maybe healing seldom happens in the instant. Maybe it happens more over time. (Maybe I'm full of it & should stop trying to figure it out)....

... I feel a lot like Naaman, though... wanting healing, but wanting the big & flashy instead of wading into dirty old Jordan.....

Sorry God for being a putz & being so hard on you... not that you're not used to it by now, but still, you do lots of good things & I treat you pretty bad. Sorry.

Requiem

2007-04-21T21:29:00.000-07:00

requiem

noun
1. a song or hymn of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person [syn: dirge]
2. a musical setting for a Mass celebrating the dead
3. a Mass celebrated for the dead

In music, a Mass for one or more dead persons, containing biblical passages and prayers for the admission of the dead to heaven. The term has been loosely applied to other musical compositions in honor of the dead. A German Requiem by Johannes Brahms, for example, uses texts from the Bible but is not a Mass.

I'd been warned.

Quite some time ago, a friend recommended the movie "Requiem for a Dream". Well, no, actually she recommended the music from the movie. Me being the obsessive collector type that I am figured I'd hunt down the movie & have had it sitting in my collection for nearly a year now. I'd heard it's a not-so happy movie & so have been waiting for a night where I didn't need to be happy for a while after.... I'd been warned by friends that it's a fairly devastating movie....

...so figured I had time tonight & after making a lovely stir fry sat down to watch the movie in the quiet of my house (roomies are out tonight). i'd braced myself, expecting it to be hard, painful... and had actually maybe overcompensated at the start. For the first half of the movie I'm thinking, where's the carnage? This isn't nearly as bad as people have told me... mostly just beautiful cinematography & characters that you start to really like in their messed up lives.... But the movie just builds & builds. By 70 minutes into the film, I'm trying to find the case so I can figure out how much longer this goes & hoping it will end swiftly & mercifully. At about 85 minutes in, it all goes in the crapper as the tragedy begins to reach conclusion & you watch the 'reaping' of seeds sown, watch lives crumble to bits as the fatal flaws emerge & the steel trap slams shut on these lives... 15 minutes later you reach the end, breathless, broken, watching lives of good people swallowed whole by the quest for significance, for love, for excitement, for a dream.....

I feel very alone right now. I crave the empty house & the roomies return will not solve the ache... I 'absord' in some ways the characters that I watch in movies. Right now I've got 4 peoples eyes & tears floating around in the imagery in my mind... that & the blasted soundtrack - beautiful, haunting, enticing, terrifying, hopeful... my heart & mind, the whispers of prayers reach out across the city tonight... the prayers search for lost souls in need of hope.... the prayers reach back to the past, both praying & thanking God for bringing friends through & bypassing the possibilities of the devastation that could have been.....

I think about the young girl last night, coming out of the movie theatre. She, like many of the rest her age, is dressed in tight clothes & showing off her cleavage. I hear her talking to a friend about calling for a cab & I see her walk back into the theatre & return a few minutes later. A silver car drives up & a door open. Her & a friend climb in & the car leaves.... A friend sees me looking at the girls leaving & comments, "yeah, I remember when I'd leave the theatre & all the pretty girls were actually my age".... but I'm lost in thought, begging, please God, let that be someone she knows in the car. Please let it not just be some guy she met. Help her get home safe....

... talked with a friend today about a lot of things... some of it was about dreams.... both of us have maybe sort of lost dreams we've had. I talked of dreams of being world changers & my friend commented that he couldn't remember ever having a dream like that.... I argued with him about that.... I remember bits & pieces of those dreams... partly 'cause they sounded like mine....

... I have lived a very sheltered life. I know that there is good & bad to this. I feel deeply & so have suffered things of the heart more than I maybe should for someone who has lived a pretty safe, pretty comfortable life.... I'm often theorized that I've felt enough pain to be able to relate, but not enough to debilitate me... there is some way that I am meant to be 'healer'... to bring whatever comfort I've recieved & share it around....

... what is the level of responsibility we take for each other? for our city & nation & planet? In the past I burned out my life trying to 'be there' for people & just flailing at the wind... now I sit more sheltered up in my house, my fortress of solitude & my heart looks out on the world through movies & books.... but where is the place of meeting, of getting dirty, of joining in the dark places to bring light..... do I even want this? What could I do for the four in this movie? What would I have to offer with a greater pull than the coke? There's not enough love in me (though I am connected to the source) to fill their voids of longing & liberate them from dependencies...

Just before Christmas I started seeing how limited my resources are & that's a part of why I joined up with the urban monastery community. I need to look less at me & more at the greater resources of community & ultimately of Christ to be able to change anything... but yet what to change... there are so many injustices & I think I talk more than I do. Dream more than act... Sure I love (more or less - pretty flawed & weak, but maybe a teeny bit) those I encounter, but I fear need, too. Fear being swallowed by it - fear that I'm not enough. That & I'm selfish. I want a life for 'me' - not that it's maybe that impressive of a life, but it's mine. I want friends, time, quiet places for creativity...

...and there is the dichotomy... I think I'd love to stay here in the quiet & live out my days in my quirkiness... but these 'windows' to the outside world open up longing... watching the four in the movie tonight, I take it personal... the same way that on Easter I took the lack of healing for a friend personally... I look out & think that 'my' world is under assault.... & I realize again, that none of this is mine. That even my breath is gift.... I claim nothing.... but it's a different sense of ownership - maybe it's still wrong - but it's this place of stewardship - this thing where you join with the One whose world it is & grieve & cry & ask for deliverance....

Maybe the sane people of the world don't wrestle with this stuff. Maybe others have the balance figured out. Have their 'boundaries' all set well (this after remembering a friend of mine pointing out the 'Boundaries' book in my library - a book given to me because I apparently 'suck' at boundaries. I'm still sort of bitter about the book & haven't really read it - first chapter or two, but yeah)....

... I look again at the mystery of the burning bush, the one that drew Moses in. "I must go & see this, " said Moses, " why is the bush not burnt up?" It was a miraculous sight - a bush all aflame, but yet not utterly consumed, not burnt to ash. How do we live this way? Aflame with the overwhelming ocean depth of God's love, poured into the thimble cup of us.... how does it not burst us wide open? I know we must live 'cracked' (how else does the light seep out), but how can the infinite indwell the finite, how can we love with the capacity that He loves with & not be destroyed by it....

"he that tries to save his life will lose it", says Jesus, "but he that loses his life for My sake shall find it".... I've recently come to embrace the idea that this means that we give up our quest to be 'somebody', that we stop trying to impress the world or prove ourselves to others.... we stop wearing the masks. I've started to embrace the idea that losing your life is to accept the reality of who you are, to walk in the full richness of your being, to live fully in the now, to realize that you are a gem in the crown of God, an arrow hidden in his quiver, the apple of His eye, the beloved of Jesus..... all of these are gifts given, not prizes earned.... death to self means receiving life from God & living in who he's made you to be instead of trying to be someone else that's 'better' than plain little old you....

...maybe this is a perversion of Jesus's words. Maybe it's exactly what he meant - or maybe it's somewhere in between. Time will be the tell... but maybe there is a requiem for each of us.... some song of grace that calls out to the ways we keep trying to destroy ourselves & beckons us to hope & life.... maybe some of us have been lucky enough to hear the requiem playing in the background before the train has jumped the tracks... maybe I'm one of those souls who 'got lucky' & somehow was 'weak' enough to drop my guard & let grace embrace me early in life... but there are so many others who need to hear the music, to listen to the siren song of melody that pulls them back from the edge, that calls from death to life, from hell to heaven.... how do we, how do I, be a people whose words, whose lives leave others unsettled? who are the fragrance of life that entices people to be embraced by grace instead of trying to fix it in their own way......

Celebration, Mediocrity, Dying, Resurrection

2007-04-15T22:04:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not one to toot my own horn normally, but yeah, I'll make an exception:

I think I hosted a pretty damn fine party on Saturday.

Had a bunch of friends old & new over at the house on Saturday & yeah, it went well. Pretty chaotic for me. Little tiny 1-2 minute conversations & then being pulled away or distracted to something else. But people seemed to enjoy themselves, so that's what matters.

I like hosting. I like serving. I find joy in it. Maybe I'm gifted with hospitality. Maybe it's just heart stuff... I still remember the line from "Life is beautiful" where the main character's dad smacks him upside the head for mocking their role as waiters. 'God is the first servant', the old man says. And i feel this is true. So my service of humanity in any big or small way is joining in with the servant heart of God & taking joy in seeing other's joy & of making their lives some tiny bit richer. This is why I think Jesus can say that giving a cup of cold water in His name is an important thing. It's maybe not so much the action, but the heart of love that calls us to bend, to kneel, to posture ourselves to place others needs & wants above our own.

Anyhow, it was fun. People looked happy & so that makes me feel all warm & fuzzy inside. Thanks to all who attended for making it a 'success'... made me feel rich with all the great people in my life.

Was thinking about the ideas of celebration & how it may be weird to thank people for coming out to a party & such, especially since it was sort of a psuedo-belated-birthday party for me. Normally b-day parties are all about the person who is celebrating the birthday & in an odd sense, I felt this was like that too though no one was all waiting on me hand & foot or anything. The celebration for me personally came in just realizing how much these people have blessed & enriched my life, past, present & (hopefully) future. My live would not really be worth the living if it wasn't for good & valued friends.... Even in my introversion & love of personal space, I'd die if I was alone.... or pray for death....

Quieter day today. Yesterday was spent cleaning & a bit of baking (icing cakes & making rhubarb crisps). Today was spent relaxing. Could've cleaned more, but the mess will wait. Pretty low mess party though - next to nothing to clean up. People ate most of the food, so just dumped the empty safeway trays in the garbage & picked up the loose paper plates & plastic cups.... very simple. Have to pull the exercise equipment out of the furnace room where it's hiding, but that's about it for remaining cleanup.

Random bits from the day:

- Batman Beyond: An episode where an aging Bruce Wayne is given a chance for youth again. Thought about what it would feel like to be a great hero, someone who has made a difference & to become old & frail & crippled. Wept at those thoughts. Wept at the idea of great men & women who are discarded & made a mockery of as they get older. Thought about Ecclesiasties & how Solomon laments that the good are forgotten like the evil, sometimes more quickly & how that no matter how much you do on this planet, nothing done under the sun will last. And, contrasting this with Song of Songs, thought about how maybe the only stuff that lasts is love & relationship & how that maybe it's enough to go through life just having loved one person & making their life better. Maybe that's all we really need to do to make a difference here on planet earth. Maybe it doesn't make a difference to only affect one life, unless you happen to be that one life & then it means everything.

- Finished the readings for this week. 1 Corinthians 15 & Isaiah 61. Again, both comforting & maddening passages. 1 Corinthians 15 is the great resurrection passage, the one that speaks that the resurrection, along with the cross, is central to our faith. If Jesus wasn't raised from the dead, then Christianity is a lie & completely false... if there is no risen Christ then everyone who talks of Jesus as more than just a good man or a good teacher is deluded at best or pathetic at worst. Our faith, my faith, relies on the reality of a risen Christ.... & yeah, this is again struggle place for me (see previous posts)... I believe that He is risen indeed, but I'm looking for the moments where I can feel His life coursing through every vein. Reading the passage today, I was looking to see if there's any place where it mentions that this new resurrection body happens this side of the grave & there was nothing. I wonder if instead of looking for resurrection power, of healing & casting out devils & things like this, instead I should be looking for weakness, frailty, fumbling & seeing God work through my limitations.

Isaiah 61 is likewise the passage that speaks of Jesus' (& our by extension) to preach good news, to lift up the brokenhearted & to set prisoners free.... it's a beautiful picture in this passage of bringing liberty & freedom to a people who have long been enslaved. For years I've taken this as a set of 'dream' verses. They stir deep within me a longing & an imagery of wanting to speak the words like Jesus did in Luke 4, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your ears'. This sounds like what I want to see: prisoners given freedom from whatever keeps them enslaved... but again it's hard to see that in the now - it seems so far away like some myth, some intangible dream....

Both passages speak of planting. 1 Corinthians speaks of all of us as seeds, our bodies planted in the ground awaiting new life. Isaiah talks that righteousness & praise will grow up like plants before the nations. I am reminded of Jesus' words in John 12:24 about how that unless a seed falls in the ground & dies it is alone. Once it dies it bears much fruit as new life, a new plant, grows from the broken, fractured heart of that seed. Is that what this life is for? In the middle of our dying is new life begun? Is this the only way to impact those around us, by dying? What does this 'dying' mean....

- in my conversations with one of my wonderful friends, I am becoming more & more aware of how much science & art have their common ground. There are industries to promote growth of these ventures, but yet they are run often by people who don't understand art or science & who only provide funding if they believe there is some return on investment. Those who can jump through the right hoops get funded. Those who don't, well, don't get funded. It seems that the really good science, like really good art, sort of gets overlooked because most true science & true art involves a lot of 'failure' - a lot of trying & finding that something 'doesn't work' or 'isn't the answer'. The artist & scientist learn that this 'failure' is just part of the process of exploring. It's finding what doesn't work that is as important as finding what does work in the end. For some reason the really great discoveries & great art come at a cost, a cost of lots of life given to pursue the 'truth' of what you're seeking.... But our society is geared for mediocrity. Those with the flashy stage acts or the popular scientific studies get funded. Those who will hide in a lab testing theory after theory, or in the quiet of their rooms with a guitar or spending years in smelly bars playing for 2-3 drunkards, the ones who at the end find their 'eureka' moment & produce something of relevance, these ones get overlooked, or have to barely eke out an existance before anyone recognizes what's actually there....

This too is vanity & vexation of spirit. Makes me feel like the world is a sucky place (oh & by the way, I think I see this at any of the engineering firms I've worked at/known, as well). Pop tunes get the airplay, deep soulful balads barely get heard....

- Had a brief chat with my brother & mentioned my complaint about a friend who is not well & I told him how it 'wasn't right' that this friend is suffering with sickness.... He wondered how I could make that statement - especially me as mr. shades-of-grey... I don't know. I probably suck in blaming doctors & blaming God when things aren't magically fixed. I don't think so rationally when it comes to friends & sickness... Maybe there is a higher purpose & I can't be so black & white. But I don't see it now, so I'll react out of my emotion & rebel against what is...until the darkness bleeds daylight.... (or until the Dayspring shows me how the light is going to come through this darkness)

- Talk with the community house tonight was good. Nice to work things through in community & hear the heart of everyone there. I'm not the only one in struggle, in wrestling. So this is maybe good. It excites me to watch people choose to be true to themselves & to chase the things that are on their heart. It's great to watch the internal compasses of people point 'true' & drive them into following what is their dream & passion...and it's beautiful to see passionate people go, "I can't do this on my own & I need the rest of you". Learning to grow in love & let our rough edges get honed by those who care about us.

I sort of alluded to my wrestling & started to get all overwhelmed & teary again... life just feels really 'big' right now.... which isn't a bad thing, just overwhelming

- Sort of related to the above: one more observation from the Green Lantern:Rebirth TPB (trade paper back). The battle in the series is the power of will against the power of fear. The only Green Lantern who does not become a puppet of Parallax, this embodiment of fear, is Kyle Raynor, the 'weakest' of the Green Lanterns. Or at least he feels the weakest 'cause he seems to be the only Lantern who knows fear, who lives with it every moment of every day. In the metaphor of the story, it is only the one who knows fear who can escape it's grasp. Only those who know their weaknesses who can admit their fears, name their fears, & not be held hostage by the need to look strong, be strong, all the while being manipulated by fear.....

this was encouraging for me with my 'much afraid' heart.... tonight at the meeting at the community house we talked about the things we fear are our weaknesses are the things through which strength will come eventually. Our failures bring wisdom, gifts, refining, revelation... the many little deaths we experience in the day to day somehow bring life... hope...resurrection for us & for others....

Great Big Sea

2007-04-13T12:12:00.001-07:00

Slipped out at lunch today just to be away from the office for a while & hope for a break from the damned if you do, damned if you don't perspective. On the way back, listening to CKUA heard a Great Big Sea song called 'Lucky you, Lucky me'. A few tears into it, was reminded again that this is the reality we live in. We live with a God who makes (& keeps) covenant…. Who pledges things for as long as the rivers run, as long as the moon & sun endures. We exist in grace. Prisoners of hope, in the continual fairy tale of where at any moment night is turned to day, mourning to dancing, ashes to beauty….

200th post. 13 Apr AM notes

2007-04-13T07:17:00.000-07:00

On the drive home last night, stopped in at a Chapters to pick up a poetry book that was praised during the gathering last night. Was in the middle of my funk & hoping that there'd be someone there, some divine appointment, who'd stop me & rescue me from my melancholy. Of course there was none, but at the same time had the realization of how much I'm an object in motion & how it would be harder to track me down 'cause I keep moving & not sitting still that long - maybe at home I rest, but there aren't that many others at home.

So left sort of daring God to come find me. While drifting off to sleep later that night wondered if that was a good idea or not. Lots of things he could do to 'stop' me… burn my house down, leave me crippled after an accident, health stuff… who knows… my fragility makes it easy for me to be stopped & I'm not so invulnerable or unstoppable as I think…

… dreams were there tonight. Woke with at least some memory of things. Was somewhere with community house people. Maybe at a church thing. Was out for a meal afterwards with people. David & someone were off in some other corner of the restaurant. I was with (maybe) Andy & a girl I don't recognize. She was newer to the city & trying to find her way. Had some discussion with her about her wanting to find roots & me feeling like a tumbleweed. I think I told her something to the effect that the drive for her to find roots & the drive for me to stay in motion maybe come from the same source & maybe it's God's leading. Sort of remember thinking even in the dream that I may have been feeding her a line of BS. Not sure if I believed what I was telling her either. She may have even been subtly asking me to stay, subtle flirting, but I didn't catch it strongly enough to give me reason to stay & so I was off again & wandered from the restaurant. Headed into some arcade, driven by an urge to play some racing game where I found myself not so in tune with the controls as I tried to move this car/future car/spaceship. As I tried harder & harder to control this vehicle, my head got closer & closer to the video game screen. Finally going through the screen & I found myself instead flying some D shaped ship barely bigger than myself. I was laying flat in it & it was sort of translucent & as you soared & dived, you could feel the rush of wind & the lurch of stomach as I rushed to keep up with the others in the race…. Seeing myself in my minds eye I may have looked Kree for a moment (one of the space races in Marvel comics)… but yeah, can't remember. Woke up somewhere after that.

Not as tired as I should be this morning, but still in a grump. Into work early after dropping David at the airport, so have had time to read the passages for today instead of jumping into work first thing.

As I open Isaiah 58 & read the opening lines, I start to condemn myself for my 'wickedness' & 'sins' & begin to lament that this passage should be encouraging, but I'm walking under this 'curse'. As I keep reading, I get to verse 6 & my perspectives change & it does become encouraging again. I'm reminded that the 'fast' God wants, the spiritual disciplines God wants are not necesarrily the random religious practices that I feel like I fail so much in. He calls for the 'fast', the discipline of serving & loving others, showing love, living justice - doing right to people & protecting, supporting, delivering the weak & oppressed. & yeah, that's what I've been whining about all week (& beyond) that I want to live in… and so yeah, this passage again becomes both encouraging & frustrating in that I've fallen into beating myself up 'cause of my non-religiousness & then get the sense that maybe it's OK. Who knows.. I feel kind of confuzzled… & don't think I'm thinking so straight right now….

Mark 5 confirms Isaiah 58 in the sense that it's just a big long story of Jesus doing exactly what is described in the latter half of Isaiah 58. As Messiah, Jesus is casting out devils, healing people, raising the dead. He lives His justice, setting prisoners free wherever he goes with just a word, just a touch & life & light floods into the lives of people who have been prisoners for far too long…
Interesting to see the responses of the people in the three miracles. After Jesus liberates the demon possessed man, the people beg him to leave 'cause He's disrupting their economy. In healing the woman with the bleeding that won't stop, the disciples, Jesus's friends, think he's crazy as He asks, "Who touched my clothes?". Finally in raising Jairus's daughter from the dead, the people laugh at & mock Jesus 'cause He figures the girl is only 'sleeping' when they 'know better' that she's really dead. I wonder how much I join the crowd of people in my response to Jesus's working in the world. How much do I feel inconvenienced, think he's crazy, or a fool in seeing what He does or promises to do?

Interesting, too to note His response to those who are healed. The demoniac He charges to go tell his story (the only place Jesus does this) & lovingly sends the man away to blaze the news of his liberation across the land. To the woman he speaks gently & tells her that faith has made her whole & he tells her to go & live in wholeness. He tells Jairus & family to eat & not talk about the whole thing… Again, He is unpredictable & not as expected…

Well, will start the day…. See what happens with this one.

RRRAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!! - 12 Apr something

2007-04-12T22:18:00.000-07:00

I think attempting a spiritual discipline for me always seems to default to showing my how undisciplined I am or how I'm just not good at spiritual disciplines or that I just gear my life differently than how spiritual disciplines work.

Over the course of this week I've been trying to follow through with the community house in morning & evening prayer (see previous posts of the writing exercises). Mostly it's been trying to find time to read the sections of the Bible suggested for the day & then write some & maybe 'pray' - though for me its the thoughts/conversations in my head with God or with myself that sometimes sneaks into being conversation with God, or is just me talking & maybe (hopefully, likely, of course) God is listening to me yammer on about whatever crap is running through my head. So it hasn't really felt like I'm maybe really doing 'prayer', but I guess close enough for me.

But even with this, it's been harder to fit the moments in. I'm realizing I do not gear my life well to doing this sort of thing - which is why I haven't done it for years. Waking for me is a process of groaning awake, dragging myself out of bed groggily & then pushing the clock to get to work before whenever I need to. There is no breakfast, no reading, no musing, no pause before heading out. OK, well, sometimes there is, but those are mostly on the procrastination days where I stare at my computer blankly for a while & check e-mail & random G.I. Joe message boards & other less brain capacity consuming things so that I can slowly wake up & feel human. The end of the day is the lingering in awake-ness for too long of trying to cram in all the list of things I wanted to fit into a day, but didn't, or just the empty search for that moment of significance to close the day....

And so, morning & evening prayer, that discipline, seems to not work so well....

...today was into work at 7:30 to prep for an 8AM meeting. Was all there on time & ready & not my usual disorganized self & felt kind of proud of that. Had a few moments between getting ready & the meeting start & so read Lamentations 3 while waiting for the others to join the conference call....

...this is what started my day & has helped spin the day to whatever it is now.

... Lamentations 3 is the middle of this book of mourning. It's Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, watching his beloved city destroyed, his beloved people butchered, slaughtered, raped, pillaged - he is watching the destruction of Jerusalem, the city of promise, Zion, the city of the King, the light of Israel.... and the book is where he pours out his lament....

...I remember long ago I read Lamentations over Bowness. It was back when I was working with the youth there & it tore my heart to watch good kids being chewed up by life - abuse, drugs, neglect, bad choices. This was the time where I spent so much time arguing with God, pleading with him to help these kids & it felt like nothing was happening, there is no release - no break from their pain, no release of grace or deliverance from heaven. And so one saturday I went up to this bench on Home road that overlooks bowness & read lamentations out loud - which I don't do. I'm a quieter person & so reading things out loud when no one's around is not so normal.

I remember the shift that happened in chapter 3. Reading it out loud, Chapters 1 & 2 & the first half of chapter 3 are all just hopeless, filled with grief & mourning for the destruction of a beloved people. Chapters 4&5 & the last part of 3 seem to be the same, but there is this shift that happens in chapter 3 - that I'd never seen before - where the perspective totally changes. The first half of the book is, well, like what I do, almost a passing blame onto God, or just being so overcome by grief that it's just sorrow without relent. But in the middle of three, Jeremiah becomes keenly aware of God's grace, His heart, His unfailing love & mercies that are new with each dawn... in this He realizes that God's heart is for him & his people & not against them & that this destruction is for some other, better purpose. Somewhat it is the destruction they/we had brought on themselves, but part of it is this refining process to cut out the cancer & bring (eventually) healing to his/His people.... and then the rest of the lament in chapters 4 & 5 are actually prayers of intercession, prayers of hope, realizing that God is present & wanting to rescue.....

...and so this is what I was reminded of. Reading Lamentations 3 today I was put back in that place - the place of struggle with God, the longing for deliverance, the not seeing His help for sure - pretty much what I expressed for Sunday....

And then the meeting started. Today was a day where all of the prep work with no results from days past suddenly all came together & we sort of saw almost results. It was a tad unnerving in some ways. For days, weeks, I've been trying to get to some projects, finding hurdle after hurdle, one more hoop to jump through after another. And today, things just accidentally came together - they just worked out & I was able to do a test in about 1/2 hour that I haven't been able to get to for weeks. And things seem to work. It's been this pending crisis that no one will ante up to investigate & they sort of have been waiting on me & giving me dirty looks 'cause I haven't gotten it done yet (mostly 'cause I'm swamped with other stuff). Today we sort of figured out that it's not going to be an issue & so it sort of became a non-event. People go, oh, great, that's not as broken as we thought & that's it....

So it was a bit of a let down. You put all that effort & prep-work in & the 'achievement' feels pretty dang hollow. But maybe that's all work (though the art stuff I'm doing doesn't feel like that - I like the process almost as much or more than the finished product).

Busy day. Ran from 8 til 2:30. Finally nuked some chili & ate it in the lab while listening to people try to debug a problem.

Other heartbreaks: One of the guys at work found out his wife might be leaving him. This stuff eats away at me. It's not my relationship, but it hurts when I hear of break-ups & it sits in my gut & gnaws away there. Listened to a woman at work talk to me of how her work is being hampered severely because of the cattiness & gossip of the other women in the office. And for whatever reason, management is more wanting to appease the catty women than to do anything for this woman & it's actually costing us business. It's crazy. I guess I don't understand gossip. I'm normally amazed that people talk about me & maybe I have low enough expectations of what people may or may not say about me, that I don't really worry about gossip. Maybe I just haven't been on the receiving end. Maybe it only hurts for me when the people close to me seem to misinterpret my actions/intentions... but yeah, I've somehow escaped the sting of gossip, but it's bad where I work & bad among women. It's crazy the stuff people say & the rumours & stories that get spread & it's just devastating the effects... it also makes me question again whether I should be moving companies ....

... came home after the rushed day & had a nap before heading to the community house. Woke up 'funny'... must've been tired 'cause I was out cold quickly & the nap seemed to go by quick. The negatives of all of the above thoughts had seemed to settle in & so I was struggling, wrestling with it all on the drive down to the house.

....it seems that scripture, the Bible, scares me... opening up the book again this week has left me feeling undone every time I read. Again, it just speaks of a world that is so real, too real... it just paints such desperate pictures of risk & danger & hope & deliverance & this God who is so big, but who could kill you with his love..... somehow everything He does is to save us, but He's crazy & while He's so gentle, he's sort of not, too - He's this wild man who will destroy nations to save his people, who will burn up everything you have to purify that one little nugget of gold that rests somewhere buried in your heart... He is so not safe & while He may be good, it sure scares the crap out of you in the process. He doesn't come to Abraham saying, "look, I'm going to ask you to kill your son, but really it's just a test. Follow through with this & at the last second, I'll stop you & it'll be all good".... Nope, instead He goes, "Abraham, go kill your son, your only son. You know the son I promised you. the son you ached for all your life. The son who all my promises are supposed to come through. Yeah, that son. Go off & kill him for me." And yeah, what God tells is brutal 'cause it doesn't tell you the end. Though really knowing the end wouldn't make it better. If God explained exactly what the trial was for, I'd probably go, "Uhm, great. Can we just say I've learned that lesson & skip the whole process?".... ah, yes, but where would be the art in that, eh?

Combined into these thoughts came thoughts from the 'Green Lantern: Rebirth" trade paperback. This one has caught my imagination as it contrasts fear & will. The thoughts tonight focused on the premise that the Green Lantern's rings project constructs made from the will of their wearers & that somehow the GL's are forcing their wills through the rings & each time they do this, it hurts. This got me wondering if everything good in life comes with pain. Does every act of will come with pain? Does every moment of love come with pain? Maybe everything good involves pain? & then I thought, hrm, well, so likely does everything 'bad' come with pain... and then I thought that maybe everything in life involves 'pain'. That nothing we do can escape suffering.... but then thought that maybe pain is the wrong word, maybe the word is 'cost'.... nothing comes free. Everything at a price. Someone's price anyhow... I don't like using 'cost' either. Too many snooty religious folks toss it around & ask us if we're willing to 'pay the cost' required to live the 'Christian life'... and they point to whatever their going through as this great cost & seem to minimize whatever you're facing. Maybe they're right. But I tend to think that there is maybe something wrong when you brag about how much you paid for something. Normally we cheer when we get a good deal on something. Where we get something great for little to no cost. Instead these people are bragging that they paid a whole bunch for not that much. This seems wrong & a tad vain, which sort of makes me suspect. Usually paying a cost wipes out our vanity.... and in light of the One who paid the ultimate cost, we should all recognize we're just riding his coattails & sponging off His riches....

... so this was the thoughts betwen my house & the community house.... weights from the day at work, wrestling with a God who I long for & who terrifies me, feeling like the world is a very desperate place full of risk that I'm not so sure I'm up to the challenge of & hoping for some emerald beam to let me fly some where or cut into the darkness around me or in my own soul to give some sort of release.... that & the history of mambo music which was playing on the radio at the same time - pretty interesting & a nice deviation from the madness....

... but all of the above left me choking on my self... rage, insanity, fear, isolation, hope, longing... I was not so present tonight. Hid mostly on the periphery. At the edge of the table, edges of the room, the edge of conversations, sheltered in dish washing, finding refuge locked away in the bathroom. Not a comfortable night for me. I get into these places. My friends would gladly talk with me about it, would gladly listen & a number asked how I was & stuff... but I push back. It's taken me this long to flush my thoughts on paper & still it barely makes sense in written form. Let alone when I try to talk & none of it comes out right & I ramble on about a million unrelated things to try to explain why i feel what I'm feeling, all the while feeling dumber & dumber & less & less understood (& likely more crazy) with every word spoken... I was tempted to ask for a computer to purge my thoughts so I could be normal (or as close as I get) around people... but yeah, didn't make it to that... and besides, why drag people into the vortex of my craziness... a vortex which'll likely pass once I can spill it out on paper.

...so I basically leaving the whole night. Slunk off towards the end & headed for home. Tried to escape the people so I could be alone & wrestle with the madness more.

I feel again on the verges of losing it. I don't think I'm crazy 'cause I'm always worried that I'm going crazy. Odds are good that if I was crazy I'd maybe think I was right about things & that I knew stuff & that it's all interconnected & I'm somehow in the middle of some great drama. I do think these things or question the possibilty of them, but always conclude that I'm just making this stuff up, so this is how I figure I haven't lost it.

It's so funny 'cause Saturday night I was talking with Andy & telling him how contented I felt. About how happy I am with my life & my own company & how I'm not all wrestling with stuff or trying to find/do/accomplish anything. I felt sort of guilty for saying it. Felt like I wasn't doing much as a Christian if I wasn't in some kind of turmoil or flagellating myself about something... but I didn't feel that guilty 'cause I was enjoying myself.

It's amazing then how in a day it shifts & I've been entrenched again in the feelings of insanity. Most of which I'm blaming on God. I could try to blame this on Andrea 'cause she picked the bible verses & prayer/writing exercises for the week, but I figure it's not her fault (or at least not directly). Tonight in one of the retreats to the washroom ended up reading the other passage for the day, Romans 14 and yeah. So far this week I've found so many links/similar themes running through the days passages. Romans 14 & Lamentations 3 - if there's similarities, I can't see them. Which sort of throws me. Knowing Andrea, she has either painstakingly selected each of these passages with great care & is using them to tell stories of journey & lead us down a path that likely she's walked at great personal cost. Or she just picked them all at random 'cause they looked like good passages. Her personality is such that she could've done either, or both, all depending upon how the moment strikes her or the spirit leads...

...and so Romans 14 throws me 'cause it doesn't seem to 'fit', though it fit the chaos of my head. Do or don't do. It doesn't matter. All is done to God & so we're free to do whatever. But we're to be careful not to mess up those weaker than us. So what does that mean? Who is weaker? I understand the rationale when you say you shouldn't drag an alcoholic to the bar, to put a recovering addict in the middle of the patterns that stole their lives.... but the church uses this passage as a protection of legalism. Those who set up certain 'rules' of conduct - which may or may not fall in line with the thoughts in the Bible - seem to get offended when people break these rules... and then they plead the 'weaker brother' card. "Please stop, what you're doing is offending me." And Jesus seems to come skipping through this hanging out at parties with prostitutes & hugging lepers...

... the chapter ends saying that we are damned if we doubt as we do stuff. Whatever is not of faith is sin. & being someone who questions everything I feel damned. Damned if you do. Damned in you don't. Lately I'm choosing to 'do' & let the chips fall where they may. Earlier in the passage, Paul chides us to say stop judging other people. We're the servants of Christ & He as master will make us all to stand, to thrive. The end of the chapter says happy is the one who doesn't condemn themselves in what they're choosing to do. I likely spend a chunk (mistyped there & said 'junk' which may be appropriate) of time judging myself & being not so happy.... but yeah....

... let loose a scream on the drive home. Again, something I don't do 'cause of the bands of quietness. I wanted to scream all night but figured that'd interrupt dinner & people would be sure I was crazy at that point.... or to scream while people talked about hockey, but I figured that was just bitterness & I should really learn that sports are more worshipful than I give them credit.... so yeah, the car seemed like an appropriate place. For once the scream came out as more of a roar. Which I try to do & it doesn't work out. Like the rest of my work today, the successful roar came out almost by accident... or maybe just honesty of the moment....

...felt a lot better after that & better after writing this.

Apologies to friends. Not that it maybe really matters. But yeah....

not so much writing exercise: 11 Apr PM

2007-04-11T22:07:00.000-07:00

Hrm, well, may not make the prayer/writing exercise prescribed for today. Pretty tired. Need sleep. Have a meeting early tomorrow.

Relfections on the day:

- work went by a lot more slowly today. Again, progress on issues. No solutions. Things you think should take you a bit to do always seem to bring up more issues & problems appear like onions with layer after layer of problem... I guess just keep slogging through it all....

- stopped in at the comic shop between work & Jesus Loves You Society. Again, nice to enjoy geekdom....

- JLYS was good. Not too much for thoughts from there. Did dishes, tried to keep up. Chatted with people. Enjoyed good food...

- caught up on e-mails & stuff at home. Andy came to watch the hockey game with David. Caught the occasional moments of conversation, snacked & thought about how to install some mini-guns on the new helicopter... (for those of you just joining in, these are toys, no need to worry about real weaponry).

- I totally don't get facebook.

- finished up a Green Arrow trade paperback. Interesting to watch his strategies of trying to rebuild a city.

- the tiredness has seeped in & is affecting my mood. The buzz & noise of being around people at JLYS has faded & I'm enjoying the quiet, but feel cut off in the moment... it's just the tiredness talking, but yeah...

nothing profound today. There were thoughts, but they are long forgotten in the hubbub of the day...

Writing exercise: 11 Apr AM (close enough)

2007-04-11T11:11:00.000-07:00

Well, it's sort of still morning. Groggy today. The bed was very comfortable & sleep was nice. Hit snooze a lot & delayed my getting ready until the last possible moment. Felt a bit delinquent about that, but it also felt luxurious to delay waking for a bit longer. It's amazing how the warmth & coolness of the covers can caress & cocoon your body & make it so hard to leave the shelter of slumber….

No real memories of dreams. Less prodding on the wake up. More just remembering I had a meeting this morning & trying to calculate how long I could delay & still make the meeting.

Was late going to bed last night 'cause I ended up reorganizing some of the G.I. Joes to fit in the new helicopter & zodiac that I got in the mail. Had to move around some stuff, but everything fit in & it looks good. This brought a good feeling to my geek little heart & so it helped me go to bed contented… the thoughts from the writing last night left me feeling a tad undone & so it was nice to 'relax' with the reorganization… I find the whole organizing & stuff to be creative. It's similar to the sub-creator/creative urges that drove Tolkien to create a whole world, peoples, characters, languages for Middle Earth (though mine is a tad less expansive than that).

I delay sleep for far too long, but I think this is just being a bit like my niece. There is so much to do in the day & since I'm more alert at night, I don't quite want my day to end until it has to… this does make me like a zombie in the morning & I miss out on the early parts of the day, but still it's just what it is…

Read the passages for the day (Ecclesiastes 3, Proverbs 12, James 5) in between meetings this morning. Not sure what is driving Andrea in picking these, but it's cool to see the correlation between passages & the common theme that comes through in reading the passages at the same time. There is a theme woven through these three passages of justice; railing against those who oppress the poor & calling for those who are 'righteous' to stand up in the defence of the oppressed. Will have to reflect more on this later & hanging out this evening at the ministry serving single moms may throw a bit more light on this theme, too… (though doing dishes maybe doesn't seem like that much of a defence of the oppressed). But yeah, more to come on these passages tonight.

Writing exercise: 10 Apr PM

2007-04-10T22:24:00.000-07:00

Maybe I don't try to reflect on my days 'cause then it takes me too long to write stuff down. Feel like there's a lot & I'll try to summarize. Maybe the thinking about reflecting at the end of the day makes one more conscious of the moments.

- Work flew by today & felt rather unproductive. I get paid to solve problems basically & it seems like solving problems involves a whole lot of discussion & running around trying to find data to get closer to finding solutions. Today I was trying to work about 3-4 different problem areas & wasn't keeping them always straight & basically made incremental progress on all, but not enough to really solve anything. Not a big fan of days like this, but at least it went by mercifully quickly.

- went for lunch with a friend today which was lovely. Enjoyed the food & the conversation. Circumstances & conversation reminded me of other friends who I miss & so it was kind of a bitter-sweet lunch. Good times mixed with longing. Thought about the wine of memory on the way home tonight. With the people you really love, no matter how sweet the memories are, they're never enough. You long for the continual now with them.... and so even the best & sweetest memories have their bitter taste 'cause they remind you that you're not with that person at the moment... this is one of the reasons heaven appeals to me.... the endless now surrounded by those you love where 'goodbye' is forgotten...

- was contemplating if I organize some kind of weekly prayer organization thing like what I'm in the middle of here. Was contemplating exile & our cosmic loneliness.. of how all of us are continually home & yet not-home....

- ended up thinking about Jessica Simpson far more than I'd have expected (guess I saw her in a trailer for another movie before watching Crank last night - so it's not just the John Mayer connection). The comments from the last writing got me thinking & I was figuring that if I had a beautiful woman throw herself at me, & assuming I wasn't interested in anyone else, which is where I'm at at present, then I'd likely be prone to at least spending some time with the woman... would likely feel pulled to more than that. Got me thinking that if it was just dating or 'just' sex, i.e. some temporary relationship, I could probably be with anyone... or at least I think I could... maybe that's just telling myself stories... but it's a totally different thing when you think about being with someone forever. With that you look for something different, you look for a someone, not just a warm body or a set of curves... you look for heart, for smiles, for the quirks that somehow fit you... & hope that you find someone who can grow with you through the years....

...was thinking about the idea of 'just' a body & how perhaps I place far too little value on the physical. I'm all about the soul as in the mind, will & emotions of someone - their personality, the collection of characteristics that make them who they are. This, to me, seems to be the vast, incredible 'universe next door' that I love to explore as I get to know people. It's this aspect of people that fascinate me... but yet we are beings made as a unity - body, soul & spirit - and to focus on only 1 aspect of our being is to sort of deny or cripple the rest. I perhaps am not as happy with my body 'cause it limits me in space & time. It is my anchor in finiteness & fragility. Without it, I have no carrier for soul & spirit & they both dissolve into the ether (in theory to be reunited with God, but one can't 'prove' such a thing until after you've taken that journey (& few come back to document that trip)...

but yet, as Genesis says, God sculpted our body from dust of the ground, or formed it around a rib... David says in Psalms 139 that we were 'knit' together in our mother's wombs... and so God appears to have taken as much care with our bodies as He does in shaping soul & spirit.... and so maybe thinking about 'just' a body is to insult God's creation & his artistry...

..there have been the very few times of where I've been close enough to someone that i can 'explore' the physical a bit more... I look forward to the day of being able to explore every inch of my wife & to try to understand the majesty & miracle of her creation, the beauty & fragility of how she is formed....

.... and so yeah, not sure how Jessica fits into all of that other than being the springboard to the thoughts... David's had me watch one or two episodes of her newlyweds show & she just seems really clueless & self-absorbed... I have a hard time dealing with these characteristics.... Maybe she's secretly brilliant & masterminding the media circus, but yeah, hard to say... I just value people of 'substance' - not that i know what that means... just that there is something real, something heartfelt in their expression of who they are....

- my friend Leah came over for supper tonight. Cooked a roast - which is so easy to do & such a great reward of really, really good food... it feels nice to eat at home & to enjoy my own cooking... we had a good chat, though I felt like I did most of the talking - which is odd for me, though it happens around Leah. We caught up & I showed her pictures of niece & nephew & she listened to kid stories & then I showed her my G.I. Joe's that I was painting & the package of stuff I got in the mail & explained how my head writes little stories for the characters/figures that are bought/made & then showed her some of the custom websites & Marauder, Inc. (http://www.marauderinc.com ). It was totally geek central & I felt sort of bad about it - though she seemed to be interested (or at least was a good liar about it). It felt kind of good to be able to tell stories & to have someone listen & be interested. It's nice just to be heard & it's nice to have someone not point out that your hobby seems somewhat juvenile & silly... It's nice to be able to enjoy something & just have someone listen... maybe it's the kid in us yelling, "look at me! look at me!"....

- I remember being semi-not so happy for chunks of the day... but feeling pretty good now. Tired.

- Psalms 25: again the idea of putting hope/trust in God & the prayer that He will not allow us to be put to shame... Perhaps our credibility is always at risk when we trust... we could look the fool at any time if God appears absent... This is hard on us 'cause God's a tad unpredictable... maybe that's why David prays these things...

...David asks for his enemies to be put to shame & not allowed to triumph over him... I echo this prayer... though also sort of wish that my enemies seemed more tangible... evil wears so many masks. Half the time it looks like me in my apathy... but some days it seems easier to think about some physical enemy out there as opposed to the enemies of the spiritual, of social structures, of our own dark hearts... it's maybe hardest to pray these prayers when you're praying against the seeming enemy within... though maybe that's where we most need to ask God for victory....

So much of the middle of this psalm is about pathways & about God teaching us how to walk. Again there is the mention of 'the truth' that keeps us & guides us & becomes the path...we ask God to remember us & to remember His goodness... we ask Him to remember not our evil... wow, reading this passage again... it's overwhelming... my mood shifts again. I remember now about how coming back from lunch I was listening to CKUA & was feeling kind of what I feel now. The music just evoked this response to beauty & my gut got all tight & I felt short of breath (figuratively) & heart beat faster & it's this sense of being overwhelmed... that somehow reality has dropped away to reveal this expanse of awe - this great limitless expanse of 'wow' . Reading the latter part of this Psalm brings this sensation back.... there is such a desperation here. I love the Psalm 'cause it's not about polished theology or about the too safe, complacent life I live in North America... The Psalm is very primal, very heartfelt, very real. It's someone praying to God to fight for him, to rescue him from his enemies & from his own evil. It's the very core stuff of religion - a very finite human making requests to an infinite deity & asking for help, for guidance, for rescue. There is such a desperation in the prayers here. You feel the sense of panic or at least the urgency in David's voice as he prays... you feel like that if God doesn't come through, David's in trouble... and so hence the 'let me not be put to shame' is a very urgent cry....

...and this is perhaps so much the heart of faith, this risk. It's a risk I so often don't take. I live with 'plan b' & often try to figure out what my plan is if God doesn't 'come through'.... maybe that's 'responsible' to always have a plan, but maybe again it's just not 'faith'... or maybe I'm not living in the places with enough risk that I have that level of urgency... or maybe it's that my quiet prayers, the hidden ones, the deep & groaning ones are that desperate, are that needy, & I just am waiting in the middle of the Psalm for the answer to the prayers.....

Hebrews 12: I love this passage & it's such a great summary to Hebrews. All of the book of Hebrews is speaking how Jesus is a fulfillment of & improvement upon the 'old covenant' or the covenant of 'law' that was given at Sinai (where the 10 commandments were received). Hebrews speaks over & over of how Jesus's new covenant, the new promise made through the sacrifice of His own blood, is so much better than the covenant of law & it sets us free from being people who tremble in fear at God & changes us to people who find home, find family with Him. We are no longer exiled, but welcomed. Again at the end of the passage there is that desperation. The promise that there is a shaking coming that will wipe out everything that can be shaken & leave us with only that which can't be shaken (which is the only stuff we really truly have anyway - & the only stuff that matters). I've lived in this a bit & will live in the shaking more & it's painful & beautiful at the same time....

Hebrews 12 ends with a quotation from Deuteronomy 4:24 about God being a jealous God & Mike Bickle from Kansas City points out that this whole idea of God being a 'consuming fire' is just that He's so in love with us that He'll burn away everything that stands between us & His love... & ultimately in this the imagery changes from an angry God who wants to smite us to a God of great passion who is enflamed with love & there is nothing that will keep us from the tenderness of His embrace....

And so God, to close the written portion of the day.. I...I... well, I'm left with the groaning. I'm left with trying to speak words that are unspeakable... I stand at the edge of the brink overlooking the expanse of your majesty & beauty & overwhelming love & I'm undone. I'm terrified to jump in, but aching to be consumed by you... I feel sort of lost. I'm not very good at this christianity thing... I know longing & I know fear. I am learning love. maybe how to give, maybe how to receive... I need to receive from you, I need you to love me, to notice me, to hear me, to take pleasure in me & to explore every facet of me, body, soul & spirit, even though you know every part so well...

...I want you... and yet fear you.... please help me with that.... help me to trust & to stay on the path instead of getting scared & trying to climb up your shoulders... can our hearts really hold the expanse of you without bursting? God, why is there such an ache? why is there so much longing &, as it seems, so little finding? You say you will be found when we look for you? (though as you've told me, you are also found by those who don't look for you)... am I just missing the obvious or over thinking it all?

More to say, but it feels like chaos & desperation & it's all garbled. Thank you for beauty, for feeling, for bodies that move & hearts that rush & tongues that taste & savour good food & good wine. Thank you for friendship, for laughter, for creativity, for love, for hope & joy & all the good gifts you richly supply.

Writing exercise: 11 Apr AM

2007-04-10T09:38:00.000-07:00

morning observations woven around discussing bugs at the bug review:

- can't remember dreams. Woke up groggy. Had some psuedo half awake dreams of being in some schoolroom with other people & wanting to stay in the dream/sleep & had some teacher type figure (maybe me) prodding me to keep going & wake up & not hit snooze so often & actually try to make it in for this bug review meeting.

- Apathy was running high this morning. Had 'Vicarious' playing away in the internal stereo. Got all shaved & showered & dressed. Got a roast in the oven for tonight. Roads weren't as bad as I thought. God help us if this rain freezes on the roads... (may be an interesting commute for lunch today).

- Radio on the drive in. Listening to the normally very good morning show on CKUA. No deep thoughts. Had some song with Herbie Hancock & John Mayer. Tempted to buy a ticket for his concert. Mostly so I can catch Kathleen Edwards who is supposed to be opening for him. I hear John Mayer is fantastic, but I think he's the guy who is hanging with/chasing Jessica Simpson. She impresses me as being like the chick in the movie last night. Pretty, but not too bright. Maybe I'm just hard on people. I respect people with enough smarts to protect themselves... maybe the blond not so brainy chicks are still great people with sweet hearts & who just have fun & laugh & enjoy life... Maybe my love of thinking, contemplating, exploring humanity & emotion & philosophy & stuff just makes me no fun & chokes my enjoying things... so maybe it's all perspective... Maybe I could learn something deep & profound from Jessica Simpson (uhm, or not).

- Intrigued by Patti Griffin's music. Heard a song about some old dude riding a bus to who knows where that I like & realize it's one of her tunes. Seems to be some metaphor for life that there is a ride to be experienced/enjoyed, but direction/destination is not always so clear.

- bugs suck. I've got limited time & no tools to really investigate these, but can't push them back to the developers as 'broken' unless I basically completely diagnose the issue for them... bleh.

- Psalms 25 & Heb 12. Will have to look at these more tonight. Psalms 25 felt 'new'. I'd forgotten what's in it, if I ever knew. Heb 12 is sort of been ingrained in me.... The 'surrounded by the great cloud of witnesses', then running the race looking to Jesus. Then the section on chastening. Forgot about the strengthening the feeble part, but remember Esau & his tears & the contrast between Sinai & Zion, old covenant vs. new & then the quote from Haggai about God shaking heaven & earth.... good passage, but I likely (almost) take it for granted out of familiarity...

Interesting to contrast this with Psalms 25. David repenting for his sin. Hebrews 12 opening with Jesus enduring the contradiction of sinners... It's maybe good to realize that we are both those who are saved, those who Jesus died for, and also the murderers of Jesus, our sin being what nailed him to the tree.... but liked Psalm 25... good, real prayers - asking God for help & deliverance...

more to come later in the day.

Writing excercise: Apr 10 reflections.

2007-04-09T23:22:00.000-07:00

Bah. I should be in bed. It's the early morning Bug review meeting tomorrow & I should probably try to be up for that & should maybe try to beat the traffic 'cause the roads will likely be crap tomorrow after the rain we're getting tonight turns to ice (though maybe I should just stay home & avoid the carnage)....

Anyhow, I'm attempting to write stuff to reflect on the day. The urban monastery folks (http://www.urbanmonastery.ca/) are trying to provide a more structured/consistent pattern of morning & evening prayer that the community joins in on. Since I've now figured out that I don't have to show up at the community house at 6AM & 9PM every day to participate, I figure I should maybe join in.... so far I'm already behind & not sure how I'm going to fit in stuff this week, but we'll give it a whirl & try.

Reflections on today:

- goal was to spend the majority of the day at home in quiet, paint G.I. Joes, watch some stuff, cook some, meet with Marie at 2, cook some more & slack in the evening & hopefully clean some in preparation for the party this weekend.

- morning started as planned. Bit of painting, then watched the final episode of 'Justice League Unlimited: Season 2'. This rattled me. The series ends with the forces of Apokolips invading earth & hero & villian alike have to band together to defeat them. There is a set of scenes where the heroes assemble, as individuals & groups & they are all teleported one by one to join the battle.... this imagery of heroes assembled, of the gathering of courageous souls to fight one last fight against the overwhleming darkness & evil, left me weeping uncontrollably.... wasn't really sure all of the why's for that, it just happened. More tears came as Superman let loose on Darkseid... where he finally unleashed the full extent of his power instead of holding back for fear of hurting something in the 'world of cardboard'.... and more tears at the return of J'onn J'onzz.... Maybe it's just tiredness. but something there shook me & this affected the mood for the rest of the day.

- after that, more painting. Have been fiddling with heads. Forming heads are a pain in the butt. Have finally maybe started to figure out a technique to do eyes. Realized that mostly you can just draw a black line on the upper rim of the eye & this looks like the dark line of eyelashes & then a black dot in the middle for the iris. Instead of painting eyes last, I'm starting the heads by roughing in the eyes & then painting over anything that looks like a mistake... it is funny how even in this, the figures sometimes take on a life of their own & somehow it just looks 'right' to put a brushstroke or dab of paint in one area or another.....

- I think I got stressed with the figures & time today. Wanted to put a lot of time into the painting today & ended up with various interruptions.... not bad interruptions, but just not what I'd had planned. Unsuccessfully attempted tech support for dad with computer stuff, had lunch with Marie & chatted for a few hours. Had to pick up roomie Dan from the airport which ate a 1 1/2 hour that I wasn't planning on. But I was sort of pre-occupied with how much time I'd get to spent painting... stressing about finding time to relax... maybe there's something wrong in that. Or maybe it's a good shift of craving the creative time & the place of solitude.... I made good progress. Have some of the figures coming together well. Some where the faces look like actual faces. Others that are likely salvageable.... Some figures where the colour schemes & the rough outline of how they'll be painted are coming together nicely. Got a good start on about 5-7 figures & finished coating & assembling 10 other figures, so it felt nice to see some finished product after a long time of fiddling with them.

- ended up with tears & such while in the shower getting ready to leave the house. Was listening to Tool's "10,000 days" & the opening track 'Vicarious' - it's a song about humanities tendancy to observe carnage & destruction from a distance. He proposes the theory that we do this as a power trip, that vicariously we watch the world crumble & burn around us & we remain unscathed in our being outside of the disaster zones... he figures maybe it's some dark god urge that wants to wipe out the planet & to still remain in power & alive.... Again, not sure the source of the tears for that... I like the song. The melody ripples with power & crunch.... maybe I just crave the sense of feeling empowered.

- Marie was busy at the Lazy Loaf when I arrived, so I had time to sit there by myself & observe & reflect as I ate my sandwich that was too tall for my mouth. Kind of felt a bit like I'm going crazy. My head felt like I was thinking through a fog & yet crystal clear... thoughts like molasses & yet instantaneous.... I was preoccupied with the stuff from yesterday, the random tears from today, the call/lure of solitude & creativity.... so maybe that was it... tried to share about the thoughts from yesterday, but that didn't go very far - no answers or clarity at least....

- after the return from the airport made chili & watched 'Crank'.... not the most intelligent movie.... Honestly found it kind of slow in a lot of places... Figured the dude should die from lack of adrenaline 'cause I was bored & assumed he'd be too... I shake my head at the chick in the movie... it sort of saddens me to think that there are women who are maybe like that & who seem to be pretty dang clueless.... pretty yes, but just not really thinking so well.... The ending was odd... All that movie about rush to try to say that we should slow down & smell the roses more often... Though who knows, maybe there's a message for me in that woven through the theme of the day....

- reading passages: I sort of skimmed through the passages for today... they speak hope & taunt me at the same time. I am both encouraged & angered by them... the anger is of course longing & a sense of powerlessness to reach/encounter what is longed for....

- John 17. Out of all that Jesus prays when he prays for us, it seems the most important to Him is that we are one. The Father is in Him, He is in us & we are all one... He wants the world to know that the Father has sent Him & that He has loved us (verse 24). Again, His prayer is not that we'd do a bunch of things or convert a bunch of people (though that may come as part of the package), but His prayer is that we are united with Him & (in theory) with each other - that love reigns & unites....

-Psalms 104: vs. 2& 3 - God clothed with light, heavens like a tent & the beams of his chambers are in the water. The idea of laying beams in water intrigues me.. There is so much of the structure of this planet that I don't understand. How is the land held up? What exactly is in that ocean down there? God looks wild, uncontrolled, unpredictable in this passage. He looks sovereign, ruling over all & in control of everything... There is a majesty in this passage & a beauty of God's intimate involvement with the planet & His creation....

John 17:17 asks to sancitfy us through His word & says that His word is truth... I've been having the potential of conflict with my family over me drinking wine. Part of me twinged with this passage & the 'vino veritas' - in wine, truth - which was much the reason for me getting started into really trying to learn to enjoy wine. The twinge was why seek for truth elsewhere when truth is found in 'the word'... I've been reading a wine tasting book recently & it's been explaining that wine does not lie because the condition of the grapes & the processing will definitely be found in the taste of the wine... and so I'm understanding the 'truth' that wine brings... and it's nice to see here in Psalms 104:15 this idea that God brings wine as a gift to make the heart of men (& women) glad... He doesn't comment on the morality of alcohol or on drunkeness, etc. It's just a statement that God provides all of our needs, all the things that we seek & want....

... I find the comments on darkness & leviathan interesting. The whole passage is like taking a 'day in the life of God' & watching Him 'get up' in the morning to go out for 'chores' & to tend the earth. He lights the sun, rides on the clouds, sets the foundations of the earth & keeps the waters in place. He then tends to the animals & people, providing them water & food & sustenance... and part of His day, part of those 'chores' of God is to 'make darkness' - to provide time for all the beasties to roam & devour prey, to let leviathan (a great sea-serpent & often metaphor for satan) 'play'... God's discourse in Job ends with God giving Job a lesson in the anatomy of leviathan... and Mike Mason, in his "The Gospel According to Job" book seems to think that this is God showing His response to the problems of pain & suffering in the world. God doesn't answer the questions of why there is pain or why He allows evil to exist & have reign & to consume & destroy & chain & kill.... Instead all He does with Job it to pick leviathan up, turn him over & spin him round & open his jaws & basically it's like God taking this fearsome dragon & like some great child playing with it like it's some plastic dinosaur... God's lesson to us about suffering & evil is to show us that He is greater than these things & more powerful than even the most terrifying of villains in our stories....

...verses 28-30 & really the end of the Psalm.... Shows everything's reliance on God. If He breathes into us, we live. If He takes away the breath we crumble to dust... but at any time He can breathe again & resurrect us... but yet in all of this, He remains unchanged, eternal.... and so this goes back to yesterday where I'm waiting on His breath, the spirit, to move.... all He has to do is speak one word & it's done.... but yet He waits.... I have come to realize that sometimes He just outlasts us... His eternal constant-ness just waits for us to give up, to stop our fighting & fall into His arms.... some of us take longer to stop pounding his chest than others....

- John 15 - again, the connection... We abide in Him. He is source, we are just conduit...

-Jeremiah 33: Ah, yes, this passage. It starts out with the tantalizing, "Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not." This & the passages about healing & restoration both cause my heart to soar & crushes it to pieces... These are the promises of God, the reality we are supposed to live in, but yet it seems so far off... the scriptures seem to tease, like in Song of Songs 5, he comes to the door & calls & I rush to the door, hands dripping myrrh (the fragrance of suffering & of a crushed spirit) & yet find Him gone... lost in the night, leaving me lovesick & desperate... I ask for great & mighty things & the revelation seems to give only the same stuff - the same promises of a faithful & good God that does above & beyond all I can ask or think. A God who keeps covenants for as long as sun & moon endure... and I believe this stuff. I trust all of this, but I want to see it's reality....

...I feel a kinship with Jeremiah. He was the weeping prophet. He was the dude whose heart broke for his people. He cared probably the most for the people He prophesied to out of any of the prophets. And he was given at times the hardest messages to deliver to them... and at the end of the day, after all that care & compassion & faithfulness, I'm not sure that Jeremiah saw a single 'convert' (i.e. someone who actually did what God was speaking).... and then there's Jonah who was hoping that God would smite the people he was sent to & the whole city repents....

...but yet Jeremiah was given visions like here in chapter 33. Imagery of a restored Israel. A people healed & set free... & I wonder how he responded to these visions... How did He react? Did it leave him weeping with joy at the beauty of what God was going to do? Or was he stuck looking at the 'now' & seeing how far things were from the coming redemption?

OK, that's more than my quota of writing/thinking for the day. Time for bed.

Resurrection Morn

2007-04-09T00:07:00.001-07:00

Today in church, in the middle of resurrection morn, I believed for a moment. It was some where in the singing of songs that resonated, somewhere after the words of liturgy which spoke stories of the One who had ransomed us all with His death, somewhere in the middle of trying to sing my heart out, to push the full force of air from lungs past lips to shout/sing, to trumpet this good news; somewhere in that moment I believed fully that Christ has indeed risen. Idea, concept story sublimated in that moment & became reality. Spirit revealed, the truth of heaven merged with human experience & confession & on this rock Jesus forms His church....

...it was breathtaking. I was lost for words & wept & wept at the beauty of the risen one. I wept like Magdalene, seeing the Jesus she loved alive after she'd thought she'd lost him for ever....In the moment I felt like Abraham looking up at the stars, somehow suddenly it all made sense. Suddenly the idea that a man in his 90's could father a son connected with him. The words God has been speaking to him for the last 15-20 years suddenly seemed real & he believed & it was counted to him for righteousness... and it felt like that today - that the reality of the risen Christ that I'd heard about, read about, thought about in theory suddenly felt so real, so true, so complete.....

...and in the middle of this place, I started to pray for those around me, to let my heart stretch out to feel the needs of the people I know & love... & so I prayed for healing, for hope, for strength, for love.... prayed for resurrection miracles, for Him to make all things new - to turn ashes to beauty & mourning to dancing....

...there was a momentary paralysis in this. I was up at the front, alone, in quiet of heart, the chords sounding from the speakers washing over me & resonating through me. I was in temple, in that quiet place, coming boldly before the throne, just me & the divine, talking about Him unleashing healing, hope, joy, love to friends, to children he loves.... and I prayed believing in the prayers, but afraid to turn around to see if the results were happening/not happening....waiting, hoping for shouts of joy, of healing revealed, to come from somewhere behind me as one of the prayers took hold & the Risen Christ unleashed a miracle to change bad to good, darkness to light....

... but turn around I did... & I wandered back to join the circle of friends praying for one of the friends who has been suffering under sickness for far too long.

& again, I prayed, speaking out the release of healing with a boldness, a defiance... less request, more command, hoping that this boldness would echo faith, would somehow show belief, that I trusted God could do what he says he can do..... and..... well... nothing.... or at least from what my eyes/heart could see at the time.

This brought a whole nother kind of tears & a different kind of thoughts.....

What good is it to be indwelt by the risen Christ & to not have His resurrection power to flow out from me? I have been told that I am, in some senses, the incarnation - that the Word indwells me & once again has become flesh..... that Jesus/Spirit/Father walks the earth wearing a Kirk suit. His voice echoes in mine, His heart loves through me. This is what I believe. & so, as I have been told, I begin to expect that as I speak, that the words come with His authority, that the voice that spoke creation into existence speaks through me. That the voice that shook the earth & calmed the waves & sea somehow speaks through my stammering tongue. His hands which brought healing to many are felt in my touch. He lives in me & flows through me.....

...but yeah, it seems like there is a disconnect. It feels like there is something waiting, something that is 'not yet' that holds the flow, the power back. When I pray for others, when I place my hands on them as a sign that I walk with them in their struggles, I expect to be a conduit, a lightning rod, to let God's power flow through me & be unleashed to others - not that he can't unleash directly to them, it's just that He somehow lets/chooses His sons & daughters to partner with him in the process... but ultimately we are nothing in the process but channels - pathways - pipes open at both ends, first to receive & then to let His grace pour out through us....

and so as a conduit, I am nothing. If I was to fill myself with my own importance, it would stifle the flow.... I would try to turn His power into my own & use it to lay claim to some sort of fame or vainglory - but instead, I am just empty. All I care about is seeing friends healed... for this friend, I have prayers for dancing feet, for a soul unchained & no longer tied down & earthbound, but free to praise with abandon & without limitation......

....in the past people have given me so many theological explanations for the 'blockage' for the 'not yet'. There are dozens of elaborate explanations that get God off the hook for why He doesn't appear to do big flashy miracles today. Mostly I think these explanations are bogus. I could believe the ones that say that if I'm not pure enough or something then He won't move through me.... but if that's the case, the world is without hope 'cause I know maybe 5 people that may be pure enough of heart that they might qualify & even then I think that's just 'cause I can't see the fullness of who they are. No, the Jesus I love speaks always of grace and the scriptures are full of screwed up men & women that God moves through to bring redemption & to tell His story.....

....and so there is no satisfying explanation. There is only the heartache of praying your heart out for people you love, believing that God hears & answers & then watching them hobble out of church, still not whole....

... and so I ended my time at church today in tears. Today feels like I'm tugging on this great rope, trying to drag the new Jerusalem into our space & time... and the physics is getting in the way, the stuff of heaven seems to be blocked by the things of earth, the reality of heaven seems to get stuck on the edge of the atmosphere & I'm not able to pull hard enough to somehow puncture that bubble, to let Heaven's reality seep into our own.....

.... and yes, i know that miracles aren't always as you expect them. There were probably great miracles & great healing today. Maybe the miracle was seeing the worshipper friend surrounded by the sisterhood & friends who cared, all of us groaning & weeping & petitioning heaven for her release. Maybe this show of love reminds her of her worth & value to us & to God.... maybe there is healing that she doesn't feel alone (if she ever did). Maybe there were miracles today of friendship. Of lonely souls finding people to listen to them. Of being able to speak hope & worth into a friend who feels they've wandered astray. Maybe I had my own miracles of not retreating to wrestle alone, but instead choosing to join people for lunch - where none of my questions were voiced or discussed..... and maybe there was a miracle of grace in me not being all grumpy with the conversation & raging like some angry prophet, but instead listening to people talk about economics & the housing market. (Part of my grumpiness was likely mitigated sitting next to a friend who loves this stuff & who is good at it... it makes me happy to see her joy in this & I hope she makes a gazillion dollars 'cause she'll probably give most of it away to help the poor)...

...but walking back from lunch I passed a prostitute on the other side of the road. I stumbled along, avoiding her gaze, not wanting to further degrade my mood by having to deal with the awkward questions as she walks the lonely, heartbreaking back & forth walk, waiting for the next customer to come, looking to survive, looking for maybe more.... but this too was a reminder of the blackness.... a soul in chains as a prize of the enemy reminding me that heaven seems to not rule this place .....

...yet.....

...and this is where I sit... in the 'not yet'.... there's a really bad episode of the old G.I. Joe cartoon where Cobra unwittingly releases this badly drawn biological-germ-cloud-thingie that somehow is impervious to bombs & lasers & it eats up all the tanks & jeeps & it basically devouring everything in it's path like any other bad B-movie creature. The brilliant solution proposed by the brave G.I. Joe team is to poison it with the trace amounts of cyanide found inside apple seeds and so the team loads up all their trucks & guns with apples to blast into the germ cloud (see, told you it was badly written)

Anyhow, towards the end of the show there is a scene where one of the Joe's refuses to leave the line & keeps pitching apple after apple at the beast. When asked what he's doing & why he's not running, he says something to the effect that one of those apples is going to give the final dosage to stop this thing & it may be the next one he throws in, or the one after that.....

....and somehow, this badly written bit of schlock sticks with me.... & today it resonates again... today the prayers didn't 'work' (i.e. I didn't see the miracle I was expecting).... but the next prayer may be one that will do it... or the next one after that....

They say that insanity is doing the same thing over again & expecting a different result & so I feel the insanity of my heart, the foolishness of belief... this is the place where we 'kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight' - of where we know the kingdom of heaven in near, that there is healing, hope, justice, freedom, love, just waiting to be poured out freely & maybe today will be the day we see His truth revealed & the lame will walk, the blind see, the prisoners loosed & love will reign as king....

...and if not today, then maybe the next day....

...or the one after that....

bloody savage

2007-04-05T22:31:00.000-07:00

Hrm.... well it's Easter week. One of the 'high holy' weeks of the 'Christian calendar'. Most years it's a non-event for me. Because it shifts each year (i.e. isn't always on Dec 25 or some such date), I always seem to be caught by surprise for when Easter is, so half the time I forget that it is Easter until it's too late & then usually I'm heading home to hang with family or up to Edmonton to see Preston & catch a groggy sunrise service at his church.

This year, mom & dad are down to get dad's pacemaker 'fixed'. The docs figured one of the leads was starting to come loose & they had to re-attach. Well, after opening him up they found that the pacemaker is dented & both leads were fractured off. They figure it's from using the shotgun & the recoil from the gun busted up the pacemaker. They weren't real happy about that, but it's replaced now & Dad's in some pain, but reasonably good - superb shape compared to the last time we went through this.

Anyhow, so this puts me in town for Easter. Which gives me a chance to explore (hopefully) some churches & explore some of the more liturgical expressions of Easter - which have fascinated me ever since Marilyn Elliot led a class on them way back at Foothills Alliance (years ago).

Anyhow, went to a Maundy Thursday service tonight. It's 'holy thursday' & they use the service to remember Jesus's washing of the disciples feet & the last supper (& a few other things - look it up on wikipedia & it'll tell you lots more).

Well, yeah, it wasn't too bad. Not as profound as expected. It was at a church with a different denomination than what I'm used to & so that sort of left me noticing some odd bits (or odd to me). The song we sang sort of mentioned God once & was mostly about us sort of finding rest & stuff.... good words for the most part. It was half decent poetry with likely a dash of bhuddism thrown in. The thoughts expressed in it were reasonably good/fit my thoughts of being reasonable things to say for the most part. A few flags, but yeah, no biggee....

... a lot of the service felt like there was a pause, like you were waiting for something big to happen & it never did. One of the leaders poured some water into a basin while talking about Christ's servanthood & then, well, we just sat there for a while & I'm going, "Isn't someone going to wash someone's feet? Something?" but nothing. A musical interlude & they progressed.

When it came time for communion, it struck me as interesting that the bread and cup were referred to as "the bread of justice broken open for you" & "the cup of service, poured out for you".... now here is maybe where I show my bigotry, if I haven't already, but, yeah, this, too, left me wanting something more.

In my background, we call the bread & wine the 'body of Christ broken for you' & the 'blood of Christ, shed for you'... I was raised where the idea of the Eucharist - that the bread & cup become the literal body & blood of Jesus - is foreign to me. The bread & cup were just symbols. Powerful & important as they may be, but still just symbols.... & so I'd maybe feel odd if someone was all worried about me dropping crumbs of jesus on the floor or letting drops of Jesus spill down my chin... but this was equally odd.

For me the metaphor of 'the bread of justice' or 'the cup of service' sort of mean nothing. I was waiting for definition on these. More than that, it's that these symbols/meanings lacked the power that I was hoping for.

It made me realize how messy my views of Christianity are. At the core of my faith is the person of Jesus & sort of the central event of his life - that cataclysmic event, that 'cross'roads of where He purchases redemption for all - is a very visceral, very bloody, very messy event as Jesus is beaten into hamburger, torn & shredded beyond recognition as a man & then nailed to a cross where he is tortured & dies a slow, agonizingly painful death...

The service tonight makes me feel like a bit of a savage - a happy savage, but savage nevertheless. I kept thinking through it all "Where's the blood?" Where's the agony? the drama? the heart of Jesus bursting from love for us & the pain of Gethsemane, the scourgings, the way of suffering & the cross?

I think about what I grew up reading. My parents just gave us the Bible to read & so we chugged through it over time. When you really look at it, it's not a 'kids' book - or not by today's standards. Really it's a great kid's book. It's just so real & messy & larger than life and yet so much like life. There's good & evil. There's brave heroes & dastardly villians. There's people who do right, people who do wrong. It's like reading fairy tales in some ways except maybe more real....

...but there is lots of blood. The book is violent. Tons of battles & murders & all manner of bloodshed. There are sacrifices a plenty & stories after story of how worship of God demanded blood some how... How many rivers of blood flowed throughout the course of history? It's all messy. You feel in someways a slight kinship with the angry aztec deities & their thirst for blood. It feels very primal.....

...but all of that blood shed in the old testament was just a picture, a foreshadowing of the greater tragedy, the greater injustice, that Love would come to woo His bride, humanity, & she/we/me would tear him apart - body broken, blood shed - so that we could continue our rebellion as we ran from love & chose stubborn, selfish, independance - as we refused to have a God to reign over us & as we enthroned ourselves as masters of our own lives.....

....and then the great miracle, that our evil was turned for good. That our slaughter of the lamb of God instead brought our redemption, our salvation from our own insanity & self-destruction. & all of this is purchased though this mystery of the shedding of blood - Jesus's blood....

.... and yeah, in Leviticus, there are a bunch of sacrifices & if you really study hard, each one shows a different aspect of what Christ's sacrifice on the cross/life on planet actually acheived. & maybe each denomination of Christianity shows a different aspect of God's heart & this idea of 'bread of justice' & 'cup of serving' go hand in hand with a chuch that wants to be about social justice issues....

...but it just felt like it was missing something. I kept wanting to stand their like a savage crying out fo blood.... from what I know, there is power in Christ's blood & I was waiting/hoping for that to get unleashed....

I paint?!

2007-04-02T23:08:00.000-07:00

Had a lovely week vacation traveling out to BC with my Mom & Dad to visit one of my brothers, my sister-in-law, niece & nephew. Had a pretty fantastic time. Mostly relaxing & playing with the kids.

While there, my mom wanted me to make use of one of my Christmas presents & to paint something using the acrylic paints that mom & dad bought me for Christmas. So she sent my dad & me off to Gyro park to paint & well, the above is the result. First attempt at painting with acrylics (other than on the G.I. Joe's which has some similarities, but a number of differences).

Took me two sittings to finish it. The first at Gyro, the 2nd back at my brother/sis-in-law's house. During the 2nd round of painting, my two year old niece was all excited to get in on the action, too ("I paint! I paint!") . So I donated a canvas to her & they set her up with her little easel & smock & paints & she went to town creating a, well, somewhat more abstract piece... had some great brushstrokes in it & some cool technique - including the two handed, two brush painting style. & yeah, she sort of ended up painting her easel as much as she did the painting, but it was all good... lots of colour anyhow.

Had a sort of divided focus while trying to paint & watch my niece. This led to one slight catastrophe. I was painting away & watching her out of the corner of my eye & saw her rinsing her paint brushes in a little cup of water & then pulling the brushes out of the cup. No big deal I figured. Great that she's cleaning her brushes. What a good uncle I am that I've obviously passed on to her the importance of keeping her brushes clean.

Then out of the corner of my eye I see her pick up the glass & before it really dawns on me what's happening, she starts chug-a-lugging the water/paint remnants in the glass. Once I clue in I yelled, "Wah!! Put that down!! Don't drink that!!!" - The loud yelling scared my niece & she started to cry... so yeah, felt bad about that, but at least it stopped her from drinking in too many paint particles... after that we went to get her a glass of clean water & tried to explain to her that the paint water was bad - no drink - yucky....

Other random funny niece story - there's likely a few, don't hang out with me for too long or I'll start repeating all of them. My other brother had given me a south american cookbook for my birthday, so I decided to put together a feast for the family. Was going to make a Mango Sorbet for the dessert & so had gotten a package of frozen mango pieces from the grocery store. Started making the mango sorbet the night before & when I pulled the package of mango pieces out of the fridge, my niece comes running up saying:

"Me want one!! Me want!!'

"Kid you don't even know what these are. How do you know you want them?"

"Me want!! Me want!!"

"These could be cow tongues. Would you want cow tongues?"

"Me want cow tongues!"

"This could be frozen monkey brains. Would you want frozen monkey brains?"

"Me want monkey bwains"

"Sigh... you don't know what you're saying. OK, here's a piece."

My niece grabs the mango chunk I extend to her & promptly puts it to her tongue - makes a face & hands it back saying, "Me no want!!"...

Tried to warn her, but no..... stubborn oldest child syndrome (me being one of those, I know it well).

just people

2007-04-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

"You're a relic. In this world, power is the only thing that matters. You and those other no name heroes, you're just people. In the great scheme of things, nothing you do has the least bit of significance. ... I'll waste you and a billion like you before I let any power rival America's. It's my duty." - General Wade Eilling

"You don't know what the word means" - Shining Knight

"You can't win." - Gen. Eilling

"I'll die as befits a knight..defending the weak." - Shining Knight

"Why don't you give up?" - Gen. Eilling

"Why don't you?" - Shining Knight

- Justice League Unlimited Season 2, Episode 7 "Patriot Act"

It's scenes like this that help show why I love comic books, cartoons, basically the whole super-hero - or just hero - mythos. Ultimately they are morality plays; stories that help you ask the questions of what is good & what is evil? what is right & what is wrong? How do we as people pattern our lives to bring out the best in our humanity? How is it that we stand always on the verge of slipping into evil ourselves & becoming what we hate?

Eventually I'll maybe put down an essay on explaining the appeal of the super-hero mythos, but for tonight, i want to keep it short. There are so many days where I feel like Gen. Eilling's speaks the truth; that we as mere humans, as 'just people' will never make a difference, that nothing we do will have true & lasting significance. After all, doesn't Solomon, one of the wisest that lived come to the same conclusion that everything done under the sun is meaningless & vanity?

But for whatever reason, there is always a part of me that (foolishly) refuses to fully embrace this idea. Some days it's a very small part of me, but it's always there... this naive belief that individuals can make a difference in this world. That regardless of whether we can or can't change things that it is still good, noble, right, necessary to do what is right, to stand up for people, to protect the weak, to care for others...

... and it's random things like Sir Justin, the Shining Knight's, words that help fuel this belief, that puts the fire in my veins...

Rudderless (?)

2007-03-20T22:14:00.000-07:00

"Depression is just anger without enthusiasm."

Heard this on the radio last night while heading off to pick up one of my brothers from the airport. Things didn't go as planned last night. Was to meet Preston at the airport at 7:11 & then find some nice ethnic restaurant & enjoy good food & good conversation. Worked a bit late & hung out in the NE waiting for the flight to come in & Preston started phoning to say that the plane would be late. Mechanical troubles & the plane to bring him from Edmonton was still in Calgary being repaired. After the second call which bumped the arrival time to 9 something, decided to head home. This after grabbing things to nibble on so I didn't sugar crash & having been past an old lunch haunt that made me reminiscent & left me missing good friends. I came home & waited & watched the arrival time of the plan get later & later. Didn't manage my blood sugar right & went into a sugar crash - eyes grainy, headache like a knife through my skull, emotions churning between sadness & plain meanness... short temper mixed with ready tears.....

Finally got together & had supper at 11. Not quite the chat we were hoping for, but still good to catch up (& got to hear that the company he's working for is insane, too - made me think about moving out into the bush & storing up food waiting for the world ot end).

Tonight didn't work out as planned either. Had scheduled myself for a quiet night of painting & laundry & a bit of TV. Got home a pit early & sat down to paint & didn't have the drive. I've got a bunch of figure pieces across the desk. Most are in final stages of touch ups & other fiddly bits, so stuff that would require some concentration....and I was tired. In bed at 1, up for a 7:30 meeting at work (actually made it on time for a change). So napped for a bit... got interrupted by loud roommates, but was too exhausted to yell at them. Semi-slept through most of that. Woke up & growled at the loud roomie on the way down the stairs.... set to making pizzas to use up leftovers from Saturday night & to give me some lunches for what's left of the week...and then sat down to watch Serenity.....

...I've heard that Inara is coming to town. Morena Baccarin & Christina Hendricks (Saffron) are going to be guests at the Calgary Comic book convention at the end of April (see http://www.calgaryexpo.com/ for details). Learning this got me thinking about the crew of Serenity & so I figured I'd re-watch the movie to re-familiarize myself with the cast & characters.... This was sort of on the agenda for this week, but seemed to eat up more of the evening than I expected....

I've missed Serenity... this place that felt like home (or at least a picture of it) for a while... I've still been looking for it. Have been to places where I thought I'd find it, but have sort of short-circuited some of that (maybe)....or maybe the reality of Serenity doesn't look so serene as you try to live through it....

...the film is darker than I remember. I could've sworn that a lot of the scenes were brighter in the theatre... I also remember more laughter on the Serenity... though I guess that's likely from the Firefly series & less from the movie... Captain Mal seemed grumpier than I remembered... but I found I could relate again.... a leader with no plan.... no rudder guiding ... just following the flow of where life seems to take him.... both fearing & longing for someone to 'fog it all up' - to unseat even the illusion of direction in following the wind.... someone who is not sure what they believe any more.... or maybe rather, some one who believes in too much & who can't quite figure out how to sculpt it to make a difference in a rather screwed up world other than looking after that small group of people you call 'crew' or 'family'....

The movie left me rattled, unsettled, again. Very different than the last time... Tonight I was frustrated.... deeply lonely.... & so I did what I usually do when I get in this state: get in the car, head to the starbucks/chapters, wander, hope to meet people, hope to bump into someone that will help things make sense, look for a friend, a love, look for something to buy, some retail therapy, look to just be around people, something to take the edge of the numbness & the great unknown....

... when I got there, i wished I'd brought a book. wandered for a bit, decided not to buy anything other than the latest copy of Paste Magazine (http://www.pastestore.com/) & grabbed a chai & sat to thumb through the magazine & look for buzz on what's new.

Funny thing was little bits of the magazine - single words - left triggers... A Bill Mallonee write-up triggered a memory from Saturday of listening to some jazz guy give advice to aspiring jazz artists. He told them that if they could find something else to do, if there was another option for them other than music, that they should take it. They should only stick with music if they had to - if there was something in them that needed to, had to, create & they couldn't escape it. If that was the case, then they should stay with music 'cause they had no choice - they just needed to play & play & play.... & this has been something that's been nibbling at my brain since then... the reality that I am who I am & there is a part of me which needs to be this weird, which just sees the world differently & it's not like I can shut that off.....

... saw the word 'serendipity' which reminded me of fortune cookies. On Dec 21 I got a dual fortune out of one cookie. One fortune said to be spontaneous - Serendipity!, the other told me to mark the date 'cause 3 months from now something good would happen. I ended up eating chinese for lunch today (one day before the 3 month time frame) & got a fortune that I'd be involved in many humanitarian projects. (who writes these fortunes ?!) . I don't put a lot of stock in these things, but I do sort of play games with God & the whole fortune cookie thing.... but yeah, all of this went together to remind me about that unpredictable-ness talked about a while back... that somehow it is good that I live somewhat rudderless.... or driven by heart more than some 5 year plan...

Saw a pretty gal there. Well, likely saw a few. But this one I knew. She was a gal at the College & Careers at Foothills for a bit a long time ago. I remember her, partly 'cause she's a pretty gal, partly just 'cause I don't forget too many people... but she doesn't remember me. I sat at a table a little ways away, stole the occasional glance at her in between magazine & sips of chai. Listening to her & her friend talk, I caught snippets of conversation about houses, cooking, cleaning, refrigerators, home decorating, turning on light switches, watching TV... I wasn't really listening, but would catch bits & pieces here & there & it just made me go, "Is this all there is?".... Today at lunch I went out with a couple of guys from work & it was work talk & sports.... again, is this all there is?

Made me think about what I talk about. When I'm in public, I suppose I don't talk that much. When I'm out with friends, it's mostly listening... Asking questions, probing (sometimes too much), searching, trying to understand, to know. People fascinate me & I love hearing their stories, things that 'matter' - something that feels real, that feels like it's borne out of soul or heart or spirt, or body - something real, something that has 'cost' perhaps... why do I do this? Why is this the shape of my conversations? Maybe just 'cause I don't have other options....

& so actually of this helped break the funk... left chapters angry... generally growly....maybe with the quote for last night, anger isn't such a bad thing....

Blessings & Curses part 5: Redemption

2007-03-18T21:32:00.000-07:00

The theme for these posts actually comes from, oddly enough, the movie 'Ghost Rider'. Not the world's greatest movie - fun if you have low expectations - but a movie that struck me nevertheless....

The whole thing is, in some ways, someone looking for redemption - looking for some way to change his curse into blessing, or at least looking for a second chance to make things right.

All through the movie, the words from a Steve Bell "Listening In" CD where Steve & his dad talk about the middle eastern concepts of 'the blessing'. In the talk, Steve's dad says something to the effect of that you can 'change a curse into a blessing if you hold it with holy hands'....

...this is a principle that I see in the Bible & see in life & has been my meditation over the last number of weeks. Jesus has this way of turning water into wine, turning evil into good, darkness to light, death to resurrection, despair to hope, rags to robes, mourning to dancing.... & as people loved by God, blessed by our Father, we live in this continual state of where our world could be flip-flopped at any moment, where tragedy turns to comedy, where the barren womb gives birth to Isaac (laughter) & the fairy tale becomes reality....

... I have spent much of my life cursing who I am & who I am not. I have spent many years berating myself for being 'not enough'. I look at others & live in this constant comparison. I see their gifts, their blessings, & feel cursed because I am not them. Then I look at me & my quirky, weird, odd little life & heart & think of how limited I am in my being....

... but there is the shift in me over the years.... I have begun (& start again) to hold me & my opinion of myself with more 'holy hands'... instead of looking at all that I am not, I am starting to look again at who I am. I try to begin to recognize the grace, the beauty, the wonder & goodness of who I am & who I'm made to be...

It is funny in a depressing, self-destructive kind of way as to how much we limit ourselves by looking only at what we are not instead of looking at who we are. We are made in the image of the divine, we bear His mark, His likeness... & in this we carry the mark of greatness, or simply the mark of being chosen, being loved divinely & limitlessly.... but we live most of our days oblivious to the blinding beauty of who we are, blind to how lavishly we are loved....

.... but it is this subtle shift of moving from looking at what we are not (our curses) to looking at the gift of who we are (our blessings) that the transformation happens.... the divine works in our hearts to draw us to this place, to woo us into seeing ourselves through the eyes of love, but it only really brings change as we start to believe it, as we start to embrace the truth, receive the gift of grace & love....

I had intended this to be a much longer, hopefully more profound rant. But I have spent my day listening to stories of redemption - of lives rescued and of stories of redemption just waiting to unfold. My heart is full of how good God is & for the moment I exist in a trust of His ability & abundant grace to turn stories around & change things in our lives (often I don't trust this, so I'm enjoying this moment of 'faith')....

...it's just beautiful for me to dwell on this idea of how God transforms all that we once thought was our 'curse' & shows us how all of it was blessing all along - all the evil we've done or have had done to us somehow, eventually, gets turned into goodness....

Hymns for wayward Daughters & Sons

2007-03-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

"Judas Skin"
by Bill Mallonee of Vigilantes of Love (Slow Dark Train)

What is it you need to hear?
It's on your lips and in your ears
If too much static or unclear
Still He holds you dearly

Hound of heaven on your trail
Keen sense of direction and smell
Knows your need before you do
And when you bleed, He does too

On my own again
On my slow dark train
How is it I am found in my Judas skin spinning down?

What is it you need to know?
You don't already understand?
When You offer me a drink, and I just keep you at arm's length

What is it that I fear?
Why is it I don't trust?
When hiding out becomes career, what am I covering up?

On my own again
On my slow dark train
How is it I am found in my Judas skin spinning down?

What is it you need to find?
Love Your Spirit working overtime
And when I come out of this spin and I see You're still my friend

On my own again
On my slow dark train
How is it I am found in my Judas skin spinning down

"No Alibis"
by Andrew Osenga, The Normals (Coming to Life)

So is this what you wanted
Is this what you tried so hard to be
To play the part of what Id longed for
You'd never prove yourself to me
Its just a wall of glass youve built around you
Cause you and I could be a pair of aces
I've never lost a hand
All it takes is just one word and grace is
Your wish and my command

It's just one word just one sigh
Just one heart with no alibis

I know how clowns are frightening
It seems the smiles have soaked through to their minds
Is this the part where you get scared and run away
On your way out dont forget your lines
Please believe me when I tell you that I love you
'Cuz you and I could be a pair of aces
I've never lost a hand
All it takes is just one word and grace is
Your wish and my command

It's just one word just one sigh
Just one heart with no alibis

And all I have and all I want
And all you can give me
Well I can do without you
I can do without you
I can do without this pain
But love stands in my way

You and I could be a pair of pilgrims
Torn and bruised and full
All it takes is just one word
And a broken heart is beautiful

Just one word one sigh
Just one heart and no alibis
Just one love just one life
Just one mind with no alibis
Just one you just one me just the truth
Cause there is nothing else to see
Just one heart with no alibis
Just let the truth run wild

"We are the Beggars at the Foot of God's Door"
by Andrew Osenga, The Normals (Coming to Life)

We are gathered in cathedrals on a Sunday
We are shrouded in our pride and lusts despair
We have heard that You said to go to where your hearts once were
Trusting wed arrive to find You there

We have known the empty senses of a funeral
We are haunted by the promises of death
We have asked to see Your face and noticed nothing
But a well-timed honest smile from a friend,

Oh we of little faith,
Oh You of stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of Gods door

We have grown cold to the kisses of our lovers
We have rolled the windows up and driven through
The forests of the autumn,
The innocence of snow
The metaphor of Jesus in the dew

We have known the heated passion of the cold night
We have sold ourselves to everything we hate
Were hypocrites and politicians running from a fight
Weve cheated on a very jealous mate,

Oh we of little faith,
Oh You stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of Gods door

We have known the pain of loving in a dying world
And our lies have made us angry at the truth
But Cinderella's slipper fits us perfectly
And somehow were made royalty with You,

Oh we of little faith,
Oh You of stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of Gods door

And You have welcomed us in

Blessings & Curses Pt 4: This is SPARTA!!!

2007-03-12T22:42:00.000-07:00

Just back from watching '300'. Sort of planned my evening around it. Headed down to Chinook after work to grab tickets, mail something, get food, shop for some stuff for niece & nephew & then see the movie. Showed up at a little after 5 to find the 7PM IMAX showing was sold out, so debated & then picked up a ticket for the 7:15 showing. The rest of my tasks were over too quickly so I had lots of time to wait in the theatre, which was maybe just as well 'cause the theatre packed out quickly....

.... well worth the watch, well for me anyhow. Fair bit of nudity, tons of violence & gore.... more blood splattered around than I think I've ever seen in a movie. If these things bother you, uhm, maybe don't go.... but if you can stomach such things I'd recommend it.

Definitely a guy's movie, though I was impressed by how many females there were in the theatre - not exactly date movie material in my books, but yeah, unlike the other Frank Miller movie (Sin City), this is a movie I'd recommend to some females (perhaps a select crowd)... As with Sin City, this is very much a boys movie, though while Sin City has nothing really in it worthy of a woman's attention, Queen Gorgo in '300' is a fine example of a warrior bride, a free woman who is more of a man than a number of men in the movie (or in real life)... she makes one compromise in the hopes of helping her husband, but her strength & courage shines through.

The movie is fascinating from a historical perspective. It's a great story & well told/well sculpted... It paints a stark & incredible picture of a wild time in history. The initial parts of the battle are an amazing look at the battle techniques & strategies of the ancient Greeks.

It's a fascinating movie to place in this time in history. In talking with one of my brothers, he mentioned that people were comparing this movie to gulf war stuff & I originally scoffed at it, but I can totally see it now. If this story was told at any other point in my history I would've thought it was just a good story... but it really makes me wonder what was in the minds of Frank Miller & the filmmakers in choosing now to retell this ancient epic when currently the forces of 'democracy', 'freedom', 'liberty' battle against what once was the seat of ancient Babylon & rumors of war with Persia keep cropping up over & over... It terrifies me to think that Mr. Bush will see this as some prophetic vision of his rightness. Though it does inspire me to respect & honor the soldiers who battle in places like Afghanistan & Iraq. Right or wrong, the individuals are, in theory, standing for some ideal.... so maybe I can admire that... or at the very least I can admire someone who has the courage to stand in that place of hell.... Being at work gives an interesting perspective. A number of guys there are ex-military & they have buddies in Afghanistan. You hear much different stories when you talk to them than what you hear on the news. Talking to the guys at work you hear about individuals doing courageous things - both on the battlefield & especially off (there are apparently a lot of soldiers who spend a lot of their off-hours over there building schools & such)....

As expected, the movie stirs me though... it calls out to some part of my soul that longs for battle, for bravery & courage, for violence & brutality... I am a lot of things, writer, artist, feeler, friend, loyal, giver,.... My heart wears so many faces & identities.... but one of the identities it longs to wear is that of warrior.... & perhaps of king...

Movies like this speak to that part of me.... they make my blood burn with passion & make my eyes weep in a lament that we do not see more like Leonidas, weep that I am not more like him....

...leaving the theatre, blood boiling, heart aflame, I wanted to go out & battle, to find adventure, struggle conflict.... what I did was brush the snow off my car, drive home while trying to stay in the lanes & not get killed, drop off cookies with some friends, shovel my walk, unload the dishwasher, pour myself a glass of wine & a bowl of ice cream.... all of this was done with a certain level of ferocity ('cept for scooping the ice cream... it's hard to be ferocious towards ice cream, especially with a name of 'Cherry Blossom')....but yeah, it's not the same....

I don't think I fully understand what it is to be a man. I look at the portrayal of Leonidas & see a true man & wish that I acted more like him. Too often I fear I am like the other 'free greeks' - men who are not soldiers by trade & who live with their fears more than with their courage. I long for battle, but question if my blood turns cold in the heat of the fray.... I wonder what there is to fight in North America, in this land of comfort & excess. I wonder what there is to fight as a Christian, as we are to be a people of peace since our battle is not against flesh & blood, but against evil in spiritual places... In the movie, evil wears many faces - corrupt rulers that proclaim themselves as god. politicians & opportunists who live for their own avarice, people who trade their honor for momentary pleasure & who are cursed by the blessing of 'may you live forever'... perhaps evil comes in the guise of those who do nothing, those who live with apathy or fear... & it is hard to know how to battle these things - to battle ideas or motives instead of flesh & blood warriors.....

.... and what of our Christianity? Should we always live constrained & pacifist? In some ways, yes, but yet we have the Christ flipping over tables, lashing those who would bar free access to God... we have the psalmist say:

"God standeth in the congregation of the mighty; he judgeth among the gods. How long will ye judge unjustly, and accept the persons of the wicked? Selah. Defend the poor and fatherless: do justice to the afflicted and needy. Deliver the poor and needy: rid [them] out of the hand of the wicked. (Psalms 82:1-4)"

and as Job cries:

"Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and [him that had] none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me: and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me: my judgment [was] as a robe and a diadem. I was eyes to the blind, and feet [was] I to the lame. I [was] a father to the poor: and the cause [which] I knew not I searched out. And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoil out of his teeth. " (Job 29:12-17)

Tell me if you don't hear some level of violence, or at least forcefulness in these words... Again, I don't think these speak of uprisings & overthrows & killing people, but I think there is some level of this that calls to the warrior in each of us, that cries out for brave men & women who will burn with love for others enough to stand up to the injustices done against them.......

.... on the drive home I thought again of the battle between the idealist & the opportunist in the movie. The idealist is asked to choose 'what would a free man do?' & somewhere in his heart he knows the answer to that question. The opportunist asks, 'what is freedom?', 'what is liberty?', 'What is courage?' & scoffs at them all as concepts that cannot be defined.... and I thought about this in light of a few posts down - that dreams when defined seem to lose their purity.... as a wordsmith, I try to define words like 'freedom', 'truth', 'love'... these are concepts, ideals that I aspire to, but it seems that the definition of these words are elusive... no matter how I bang away at it, the words of description never do justice to define the ideal behind the words.....

....and I think now that, while things like love, freedom, truth, hope, while these things can't be defined, yet our heart of hearts know what the words mean..... oh sure, we can tell ourselves stories & convince ourselves of the lies we live in, but deep down we know what love is... what freedom is.... or maybe more truthfully, we know what it is to feel the absence of love & long for it in it's purist form... & we know what the chains feel like around our souls....

Recently had some friends call out 'words' for me. I 'failed' to speak words over them 'cause I got nothing &, I think, it was as much an exercise in me learning to be comfortable with getting nothing - to recognize that I speak when I am given words & remain silent when I'm not.... but the friends spoke words over me: 'orator', 'guardian', 'lover'.... all of which are words/identities that I doubt & believe in in my own life. The movie calls out again the importance of the orator, of the storyteller... it speaks of the power of inspiration, of how that somehow words, the stories of battle, are very much part of the victory as is the fighting... One man/woman can give his or her life for a cause, but the story of that one can raise up thousands in their stead.... There is great power in story & while Xerxes attempts to block out all memory of Leonidas, it is the story of the '300' that blazes in the heart of ever Greek as they crush Xerxes under their foot....

... have been thinking about how I doubt myself, of how I doubt the story being written in my life.... I no longer fear these doubts. The question of 'who am I?' pushes me to put myself in the crucible again, to sit there in the night, in the solitude, roasting my being over the open flame... In the fire, the dross is removed, the true worth is shown, burning ever purer within the furnace of flame.... I trust more & more the Christ who indwells me & whose heart burns through me... His flame is an unquenchable one, the fires of love unfettered & limitless, unconditional & wild. His story is the one that speaks & inspires, it is His word that becomes flesh in me.... & so I burn....

Stranger than Fiction

2007-03-11T00:41:00.000-08:00

Have had another couple of very quiet days. Yesterday (Friday) was 'quiet' 'cause I spent a chunk of it in a sedated state.... went to the dentist to get a couple of teeth turned into crowns (well, the teeth get turned to stubs & then they put the crowns on top... right now they're rough, funny tasting plasticky bits masquerading as teeth...both of them drive my tongue crazy as it, over & over again, is drawn to investigate these new occupants of my mouth....) Did the sedation dentistry thing, so I was right out (well, cept for the wild dentist-like dreams - the frantic part of me trying to tell them I'm more awake than i should be & feeling things in my mouth & being asked to 'bite down!!' on things....) . My wonderful friend Sharon went above & beyond the call of duty in babysitting me & making sure I was looked after & wasn't going to fall over or injure myself from feeling woozy from the after effects of the medication. It was nice to be looked after, though I'm not very good at it. She had to tell me to sit down a number of times instead of me getting up to get something or serve in some way....

Sharon woke me up at 4PM, the 'operation' ended at around 12:30 & I'd slept pretty much from then on. The rest of the day was spent chatting & watching movies & nibbling on food...

Today was another extra quiet day. Kept life still to just rest & to ensure the after effects had fully worn off before venturing out. Ended up not venturing out much at all... spent a quiet day watching a movie, fiddling with G.I. Joe figures & taking a long bath... Only ventured out to the airport to share a quick (er) supper with my wonderful friend Rachel & to enjoy rich conversation with her & then back to my hidey hole to watch 'Syriana' (which I didn't understand at first & then didn't want to understand at the end - freaky movie - really good, but freaky)....

And yeah, the other common thread from the last two days - other than rest & quiet, valued friends & watching movies, was watching the movie 'Stranger than Fiction'. Watched it on Friday night with Sharon & then watched it again tonight 'cause I'd promised David I'd watch it with him. I really value this movie & wanted to share it with both Sharon & David & yeah, you can tell a rich movie when you watch it two nights in a row & you're still on the edge of your seat in breathless anticipation & still moved by a story that grows ever more complex the more I watch it....

... but yeah, am inspired by the movie, both last night & tonight, to bake... Was planning to bake cookies today, but Sharon's planning to come 'round again tomorrow night & so figured I'd save the fresh from the oven cookie experience to be shared with a wonderful friend. It's been a long, long time since I've made cookies.... I'm thinking about the old family recipes - oatmeal chocolate chip & spice cookies - these are the cookies I most remember from childhood. I remember many a time helping mom make these & then later making them more independently... the way you mixed ingredients & shaped & formed the dough into balls (& the way a lot of the dough was 'sampled' before it could get made into a cookie).... my mouth waters remembering the feel of fresh from the oven cookies - the warmth & gooey goodness as they melt against your tongue...

....so it's my sole goal tomorrow to bake cookies. Two double batches of cookies... I'm not sure of why, or if there's ramifications... maybe it's just one of those obsessive compulsive moments that I get into... or maybe just one more creative thing... something to connect past to present... celebrations of simple things... or, as hinted by the movie, maybe it's just one more of those everyday things that is there to save our lives....

Blessings & Curses Pt 3: Unpredictable

2007-03-04T23:24:00.000-08:00

Started the day off today (after the weekly phone call to my folks) with some 'Rage Against the Machine' & the thoughts from last post working through m y head. Though about how raging against the machine maybe doesn't do anything unless you take action....

...headed to church, saw '300' advertised on a billboard by McMahon stadium on the way down. Was practically vibrating through church. Very much all on edge, looking for action, looking, well, to pick a fight in some ways. It was likely a good thing that Cheri M was leading worship today. I was looking for some excuse to rage against the machine, but as I've mentioned before, I trust her as a worship leader; a true heart who is there not for her glory, but simply to be the vessel that points to God, or, maybe more acurately, just pour out her heart in worship...

...so the overflow of energy got diverted into the songs. Each song became declaration of war, recognizing God's Kingship & rule over all (which made me think of Kings in exile & how the majority of the world doesn't want God as sovereign & He doesn't force Himself on them)... but yeah, sung myself hoarse....

...managed to sit still & not explode during the two messages today... in between the two messages one of the leaders asked if anyone was hearing anything from God about what they should do. I wanted to pipe up & say that I thought we should go for lunch - 'cause I was hungry, it was past noon & I was hoping that lunch would bring about some point of contact or some 'mission' of being able to have some kind of 'action' in touching people's lives in some way.... but I chickened out. Figured lunch wasn't spiritual enough & my tummy was maybe rumbling louder in my ears than it should & maybe others had real reasons from God to stay there.... few others voiced anything & we ended up with a 2nd sermon for the day... nothing horrible, just another 20 minute delay before the clean-up process.

Wanted to add unpredictability to my day & ended up helping Cheri take her keyboard home (it fit in my car better than it fit in her already near full car). So dropped it off there & was in the SW so went to Moxie's 'cause that seemed sort of less predicable than what I'd had planned.... ordered a lovely painted turtle shiraz (yummy red wine... really liked the flavours on this one) & the chicken enchiladas & read some more in Azar Nafisi's "Reading Lolita in Tehran". I've been berating myself for how slowly I've been making it through this book, but felt a bit better about it today as so much of what I read on her thoughts on 'The Great Gatsby' & the 'fall' (or 'rise' depending on your perspective) of Iran into full Islamic based control...

This may make more sense in context & I very much recommend the book. Not a fast read, but an incredible look into Iran & it's history & people. It really shows so much of just what they've gone through & are going through & how not everyone thinks the same way over there....

But some quotes from chapter 21 of "The Great Gatsby" section that spoke to me:

"Gatsby fakes everything, even his own name. .... yet what Gatsby inspires is curiosity tinged with awe. The reality of Gatsby's life is that he is a charlatan. But the truth is that he is a romantic and tragic dreamer, who becomes heroic because of his belief in his own romantic delusion.

Gatsby cannot tolerate the shabbiness of his life. He has an "extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness," and "some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life." He cannot change the world, so he re-creates himself according to his dream. Let's see how Nick explains this: 'Jay Gatsby of West Egg, Long Island, sprang form his Platonic conception of himself. he was a son of God - a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that - and he must be about his Father's business, teh service of a vast, vulgar and meretricious [alluring] beauty. So he invented just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen-year-old boy would be likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end.'

...... The dream, however, remains incorruptible and it extends beyond Gatsby and his personal life. it exists in a broader sense in the city, in New York itself, and the East, the harbor that once became the dream of hundreds of thousands of immigrants and is now the mecca of Midwestereners, who came to it in search of a new life and thrills. While the city evokes enchanted dreams and half-promises, in reality it harbors shabby love affairs and relationships such as Tom and Myrtle's. The city, like Daisy, has in it a promise, a mirage that when reached becomes debased and corrupted. The city is the link between Gatsby's dream and the American dream. The dream is not about money but what he imagines he can become. It is not a comment on America as a materialistic country but as an idealistic one, one that has turned money into a means of retrieving a dream. There is nothing crass here, or the crassness is so mingled with the dream that it becomes very difficult to differentiate between the two. In the end the best ideals and the most sordid of realities all come together....

.... He could be dishonest in life and he could lie about himself, but one thing he could not do was to betray his own imagination. Gatsby is ultimately betrayed by the "honesty of his imagination." He dies, for in reality no such person can survive.

....[the novel] is also about loss, about the perishability of dreams once they are transformed into hard reality. It is the longing, it's immateriality, that makes the dream pure."

Somewhere in the reading of this, I caught the sounds of Bruce Cockburns' "Lovers in Dangerous Times" being played through the restaurant & I began to weep....

"Don't the hours grow shorter as the days go by
You never get to stop and open your eyes
One day you're waiting for the sky to fall
The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time

These fragile bodies of touch and taste
This vibrant skin -- this hair like lace
Spirits open to the thrust of grace
Never a breath you can afford to waste
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time

When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime --
But nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight --
Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
And we're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time "

The rest of my day was perhaps predictable. Oil change, car wash, home to rest, nap, watch TV, eat, tidy, bath.... but kept thinking on these things... so what does it all mean? Should we pursue dreams? Do they fall apart when we reach them? Can we change things? Maybe I should become a charlatan, turn my life into a big drama & become fool & spectacle... Maybe I should grow into a modern Don Quixote, seeing dragons where others see windmills & pure princesses where others see putrid prostitutes.... Would that insanity bring inspiration? Make people scoff & jeer & yet look into their own hearts & find that longing for something more, that hunger for dreams long forgotten or buried in the push to build a retirement package or pay a mortgage or to just afford that next meal.... Would any of it make a difference? In the 'Man of La Mancha', Quixote's life changes Aldonza to Dulcinea, his insanity helps her see the beauty of her own heart, the reality that she is worthy of love & this transforms her for eternity... Is that enough for me? If in my life I affect only one human soul, will that be sufficient or will the hunger for change, the drive of the dream, keep me chasing always something more....

....and yeah, I have been told (through Anne Lamott's & Madeline L'Engle's books) that the writer, the artist, the creative, must be 'faithful to the work'... Each 'creation' somehow comes from beyond us & we cannot figure the piece/project out before hand, we much let it evolve into whatever it is going to become. Trying to hold it to a rigid ideal will destroy the work - it will become contorted & contrived & have no real value (other than a sample from which to learn from our mistakes & practice our craft).... but to truly create means to listen to the piece, to try to hear & see what is being created......Maybe I should stop trying to find the one key that will bring the darkness crashing down, but instead remind myself to keep kicking at it & waiting for the cracks to appear....

...at the end of the day (& I use this phrase knowingly), I've thought again that I just need to be 'faithful to the work' in letting my life story play out as it will... there are things I can consciously change & improve, but there is a story being written for me that I need to listen to & follow.... You can claim it's God writing the story, that everything is controlled by His hand, or destiny or fate. You can say that it's the limitations of my environment, personality, genetics, etc. that bind me to choices, whatever you want to say, I figure that I am being created as much as I am creating.... I'm being chosen as much as I'm making the choices... and so I want to be faithful to the creative process in my life... to live in the moment & try to listen to what direction the 'work' is going.... I can't figure it all out before hand & then try to move towards making something happen (maybe, as hinted at in the book, trying to reach this rigid idea of the dream ends up killing the dream in the end). I need to live in the continual now & let myself shape & be shaped....

The Grand Inquisitor: Essential Parable for our times

2007-03-04T00:54:00.000-08:00

I keep recommending this story to people. Few read it 'cause it's long & not easy to understand.... It's one of the true-er & most terrifying stories I've read & it explains so much of the history of the church (& government) over the last number of centuries.... It's the parable of the Grand Inquisitor in the Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. You can find it online here:

http://www.ccel.org/ccel/dostoevsky/karamozov/formats/karamozov.txt

Search for "The Grand Inquisitor" & you'll find the section I'm talking about.

This is such a relevant topic for our time, or any time, & shows one more example of how & why we've traded off freedom for safety... & given up choice, responsibility, growth, being our own people, for the sake of being happy & contented...

The passage terrifies me & mostly makes me wonder how much I'm part of the problem instead of part of the solution, part of the disease instead of part of the cure....

Blessings & Curses Part 2: Effects of Pop Culture

2007-03-04T00:53:00.000-08:00

Took today to 'turtle' - to stay at home & relax. Paint G.I. Joes, watch TV, make waffles, rest.... went out long enough to start getting my license renewed & to pick up a few groceries & things. But otherwise it was time at home.

Throughout the day had various bits of pop-culture helping direct my thoughts. Finished reading the Marvel Comics 'Civil War' series. It's been running from the summer on. In the story a group of heroes try to take down a villain who causes a major catastrophe that kills a school full of children. This sparks public outrage & the government quickly passes an act that all superheroes have to register with the government, reveal their secret identities, receive training & act as agents of the government. Some heroes sign up quickly & back the government & public opinion & decide that it's right to be registered as human weapons. Others feel it's an invasion of privacy, a restriction of free speech & a taking away their rights. This causes a huge split in the Marvel comics universe & leads to many, many books of hero fighting hero - mostly in an attempt to suck in fan boys like myself to spend lots of money buying various Civil War tie in comics.....

.... the story ends (assuming of course that the rest of you sane people aren't going to ever want to read these things) with a huge battle that destroys part of New York. In a pivotal moment in the battle, Captain America, champion of rights & freedoms & leader of the anti-registration side, is battling Iron Man, champion of the pro-registration side, & Cap ends up being attacked by a bunch of average guys. Cap pleads with them that he's fighting for them & their rights & they tell him that he's not 'cause the battle is wrecking the city & Cap sees this & surrenders, refusing to put any more people in harms way & feeling that he's gone astray in his quest to fight for personal freedoms 'cause he's now hurting those he's sworn to protect. Later Cap is lambasted in an interview with a reporter who was previously one of his strongest supporters & who now berates him that he's fighting for an america that doesn't exist. She asks him if he knows what MySpace is or who won the last American Idol. She tries to show him that he doesn't know what america is really like anymore & she sums up her argument by saying:

"Your problem is that you're fighting for an ideal -- it's all you know how to do. America is no longer about mom & apple pie... it's about high cholesterol and Paris Hilton and scheming your way to the top. The country I love treats its celebrities like royalty and its teachers like dirt. But at least i walk its streets every day. At least I know what it is."

& then later in the book, the same reporter ends up applauding Iron Man for manipulating circumstances, causing crises, using villains to murder people to stir things up... all for the sake of causing fear/crises that would make people want to embrace the pro-registration side as the only way to keep the peace & stay 'safe'....

This has bothered me for the rest of the day.... I felt betrayed by the conclusion to the story. I know, I know, the story will go on & the folks at Marvel comics will use this to sell more books & create more stories & make more money off of the controversy or the unknown of all the changes... but yeah, I sort of don't care or have the money to find out. I felt like the writers were being irresponsible with this conclusion, though in reality it doesn't matter. The writers write to sell the books &, hopefully, also to tell story. The story has made me think, moved me (made me mad), etc. So this is all the qualities of good story telling that you've connected with your audience in some way... but yeah, being an idealist, this is not the conclusion I was looking to hear.

Spent a lot of the rest of the day wondering if anyone wants to be saved any more.... Saved from what? Well, I don't know... here in North America we live a safe life. We live 'free'. We have our restrictions, sure. We pay taxes, we keep the law, we work our 9 to 5 & shovel our walks & keep our neighborhoods clean & happy. We are free to work, to earn, to buy what we want, go where we will, do what we want. We can read anything, say anything. We live 'free' here, so what do we need saving from?

But somehow still, our souls are choked by fear. We live in a society that speaks constantly of fear... Fear of death, fear of loneliness, fear of being unlovely, unloved, fear of not having enough. And so we live in this fear that calls us to hoard, to barricade ourselves in houses & urban assault vehicles (SUVs) & build up RRSPs & portfolios & to provide 'cushions' & 'buffers' for ourselves. So much of our consumer society is driven by this fear. Most of our advertising slogans speak subtly that we will not be enough/have enough unless we get this or that product... and there are so many distractions to keep us occupied, distracted, medicated.... we try to protect ourselves from feeling... we keep running on the treadmill to try to stay happy, to stay one step ahead of the things that pull at the corners of our minds, the depression, the sadness, the great expanse of endless longing.... we numb these voices because they mess with our sense of 'freedom', of security of satisfaction &, if they ran rampant, would point out that we are living hollow lives in a hollow shell of society.....

... watched the trailer for '300' sometime later in the day. It gives me goosebumps... there is something about it - 300 men standing as free people to fight a losing battle against a million... Watching the trailer made me want to scream out "This is SPARTA!!" & kick people down wells.... watching the trailer brought up all kinds of violent thoughts... wanting to get into a fight for the sake of fighting, for the sake of feeling something.... for testing mettle, for finding out if you are really 'enough' deep down... when really all you feel like is that you're some pansy engineer with more flab than muscle & who wouldn't know the first thing about brawling, let alone staring down an army of a million strong....

....been thinking about the movie Ghost Rider (more on that later) & the line about those who sell their soul for love can change the world (likely bad theology there, but whatever). The caretaker in the movie says this & then goes on to say that becoming cursed for the sake of love is doing something for the right reasons... that losing all for love maybe puts God on your side & this, the caretaker says, makes you "unpredictable"....

Today in the parking lot of safeway with thoughts of Sparta on my mind, I so longed to be unpredictable; to do something 'off the radar'... something unexpected. In Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird" she speaks that this is where the story becomes interesting, powerful, when the characters suddenly do things outside of what is normal for them. It's these sudden twists & turns that really moves the plot along, that changes the story from something routine & brings the story to a point of crisis - some place where character is revealed or established....

But yeah, nothing too out of the ordinary came. I chose to stay home instead of going out with friends. Chose solitude & rest instead of companionship & the unknown possibilities. Why? 'cause I felt like it. In an odd sense, staying home is confronting fears (though maybe embracing others).... Staying home instead of going out makes me a 'loser'.... I have nothing to do on a Saturday night but be by myself... heading out with friends makes me feel like i'm active, like I have a social life, like I'm a somebody. Maybe I'll meet people, Maybe I'll meet a girl. Maybe I'll find some moment of destiny, some revelation of who I am or what I'm here for.... and so all of these thoughts of possibilities whirl through my head & my gut/heart says 'stay home' & rest. & so choosing home means choosing to trust what my heart wants instead of listening to the voices of not-enough telling me what I'm missing out on by running to the next thing.... (again, not to say that time with friends is 'bad' - it's the heart motivation out of fear that's the sketchy bit that I have to fight against).

So watched 'Demolition Man' tonight to help fill my quota of violence & mayhem... But again, the same message is there. The tension between safety vs. risk, security vs. freedom. The movie paints a picture of a society that, out of fear, out of seeing chaos & bloodshed, decides to turn itself over to a higher power of government that will solve everything for them & give them safety & security in exchange for personal freedoms....

.... so much of life right now - in North America & in my own heart - is this battleground. Life is in the living. Living involves change & risk & choice - there is suffering, failure, brutality, danger in life & the only way to have the stuff that really matters, the things that make life rich, we have to fight for them in some way or another- they don't just seem to fall in our lap... but it's so much easier to live the security, to work hard to be 'safe' instead of being alive... & so often we trade off our freedom, our ability to choose, & hand it to someone else to make decisions for us... we do this with government. We do this especially in the church... again, we don't take responsibility for ourselves, we instead look to others to guide us, lead us.... and yeah, that somehow always leads to chains....

& so we live in this tension.... safety vs. risk, security vs. freedom.... both are blessing & curse rolled into one & living with the tension is doubly so... too many days I live like any other sheepy.... far too compliant..... God I long for being unpredictable (though am terrified of it at the same time).....

Apparently I don't enunciate

2007-02-28T23:32:00.000-08:00

I get home late tonight & am unloading my lunch dishes to prepare to put them in the dishwasher.

"Oh, no", I lament, when finding a cling film wrapped lemon slice in the lunch bag, "I forgot to squeeze the lemon juice on the leftovers of Sharon's soup."

"Why is that such a big tragedy," my roommate Dan asks?

"Because," I reply, "the lemon juice really brings out the flavours in the dhal soup."

"Wow.... well, I won't tell Sharon you said that."

"Said what?"

"What you said about her soup."

Puzzled, I think for a minute & finally clue in.

"I said dhal soup. D-H-A-L. Not 'dull' soup."

Dan, "Oh, gotcha."

tears

2007-02-25T22:38:00.000-08:00

Went to a memorial service today & it affected me deeply. Lots & lots of crying & I'm still weepy. Ended up starting to cry at a few places in the oscars tonight, so you know I'm an emotional wreck.

Want to write great & profound things tonight, but spirits are low & i don't have the energy... will try again tomorrow....

Blessings & Curses: Part 1

2007-02-23T21:35:00.000-08:00

Part of the beauty & heartache, the blessing & curse, of being human is our limitations. We are fallible. There is no guarantee that anything we say or do is ever 100% true or 100% false.... we perhaps always live in the mixture of the in-betweens....

....have been pondering what I wrote last night. In the moment I was convinced of it.... & maybe still am. Maybe everything we speak is our truth (or carries the possibility of truth) of what we believe in that moment. Does that mean it is real truth, absolute truth? There are no guarantees....The Truth is a constant. There is one reality of what (or rather, who) is Truth... but for us, here in the temporal plane, here caught in time & space, it is 'our' truth that can shape us & guide us in the moments. We hope, we long to be true, to be part of what is real, but again, we are never sure that we line up always with what is true.....

...last night I wrote passionately (though rather disjointedly) in repentance of the ways I stifle people around me, the ways that my desire to protect can sometimes choke others, prevent them from growth, from taking on their own responsibilities & living out of their own core....

...today I've questioned a lot of that. Is that really me? Do I really do that? Why? Maybe I don't? Maybe I have good motives for everything I do? Maybe not?

.... there is such a fine line in knowing our motivation, our motives, for any action. How do we know when we act out of love, true, blazing, unconditional, unadulterated love & when we act out of self-love, some extension of trying to stroke our egos or to build up ourselves... How do we know when we are acting out of fear, trying to save our own skins or our own desires, or when our fear moves us to act on someone's behalf..... Last night in the midst of thinking about me trying to keep the cup of suffering from those around me, Sherry was reading about Job breaking the teeth of the wicked & rescuing the innocent from their jaws, about his battles for justice. Where is the line between keeping someone from the cross & their destiny through the path of suffering & the place of fighting for them, defending them, living up to our own destinies as deliverers....

& so yeah, I still believe my apologies & repentance from last night. There are definitely places & people that I've stifled, not out of bad motives, just out of forgetting to trust & being more concerned with safety than growth & freedom.... but last night there was likely a lot of places where I took the "I'm the devil" thing maybe a bit too far... I forgot the dichotomy, the living in constant tension - always balancing the opposites off...

I've concluded today that I will be both an incredible parent & a horrible parent & I will flip flop between the two in grand phlegmatic fashion.... one moment I'll smother my kids & they'll hate me, the next I'll be so free with them that they'll feel like the floor has dropped out from under them. Then in the next moment I'll be there to love them, to listen, to hear their hearts & they'll know that their dad loves them deeply & then in the next moments, I'll encourage them to reach for the stars & dream & watch them take risks & soar & go, 'that's my daughter, or 'that's my son' (& yeah, maybe I should start saving now so I can pay their therapy bills).....

...but in the end, I am just me. I have flashes of truth, abysses of error & most of my days spent somewhere in between...I live in moments of love so pure it makes you weep for the sheer beauty of it, in moments of pride, arrogance & avarice so vile that it twists your stomach in knots & again, most days I live somewhere in between....

....and so when I speak, I will speak often in blacks & whites, trying to make great summarization statements - "at the end of the day", I say & then launch into some tirade about what I think is true.... & then in the next moment I'll go, well, wait, maybe that's not the case....

...as a true perceiver, one who sees only in shades of greys (or, as I prefer to say it, in 'rainbows'), I should probably try less to sum up humanity, to try to explain things for all of us & instead just talk about my journey... speak 'my' truth.... if it resonates with someone & feels like their truth, or even better, if it sounds like The Truth, then, well that's great.... but I've really got to watch myself in trying to explain things.....

... I long for those I care about to see the truth of who they are (& yeah, this is sort of my wish for humanity).... being able to see people through the eyes of love changes forever how you perceive them.... & I listen to a humanity who seems so unable to truly see who they are & I keep trying to tell people, crying like a voice in the wilderness, but yeah, nobody really believes you 'cause you're talking about stuff they can't see.....

...and the reality is that I live with the same vision problems... I can't see me as others do, I can't see (though am starting to) the Kirk that is a beloved friend & son & brother.... (Again, this is much, much better than it's ever been, but still not where I want it to be.... though it feels like it's on the edge a lot of days - close & just waiting to get tipped over)....

...& yeah, I realize that again, the Truth is that we are loved. We are made in the image of God & chosen by Him. We are the bride of Christ, the one who captivates His heart with even one glance from our eyes.... but this truth means nothing until it gets inside us, until we own it - until the weight of it rests on our heart & sets us free to soar... this is the only place where it will matter, this is the rock on which Christ builds His church - the place where the Truth of heaven meets with the confession of human hearts.... Where 'our' truth starts to align with His Truth....

& so yeah, I am one voice of many... there are moments where I resonate with the sound of The Voice, there are moments where I sound like the accuser, there are moments where I sound like Job crying for a mediator, or where I join with the voices of others - the one, the thousands, the humanity of history - in groaning, longing for more, for deliverance, for love.... & yeah, as I prayed last night, I have to really start to 'own' my voice again.... to remember that I don't speak for others or speak for humanity... I speak for me.... I tell my story 'cause it's the story I am given... but yeah, if it happens to resonate with something more, then great....

.... I chose this title of 'Red Pill Manifesto' hoping to script some great book that would make a declaration of revolution - something calling us to, as in the movie the Matrix, to take the red pill & break free from illusions & realize who we truly are. I sort of tried to start the first chapter on the book & it all went in the crapper.... & I sort of realized that I can't write that story, that declaration. I can write my story... I can declare my own freedom, the freedom granted through love at the cross... I can speak of my own revolution to throw off the chains of self-hatred, of false-humility & of all that holds me back from being who I truly am....

...and so yeah, whatever... this all sort of went sideways of where it was intended to go.... & I'm not sure where it's going now.... other than that the inspiration has lifted & I'm back in my room without the weight of vision & image flooding my head... words dripping off my fingertips.... I could fight to try to get something back. I wonder if I did something wrong or took a wrong turn a few paragraphs back (shortly after the one voice & the part about joining the voice of the accuser). I wonder if I stopped believing in the words, or got hungry, or my mind wandered.... but the words are mist now.... & I am sort of hungry.... nachos & batman beyond here I come... (though I may be back).

Acting like the devil & other revelations

2007-02-22T23:02:00.000-08:00

Was driving away from the community house tonight & listening to something on the radio (CKUA), some weird poem about time & memories that was at first really goofy & then really, really profound & beautiful... one of those poems that at first you're thinking what a joke it all is & then nearly in tears 'cause it's, well, it captures the heart of a moment & takes your breath away... and it was followed by an Eliza Gilkyson tune that I've heard a number of times, but suddenly in light of the poem it became so meaningful, so 'true' - all about time & how we're caught in it & how things change & slip away, & how much we try to grab ahold, how much we try to understand the moment, live so much with this 'furrowed brow' - all of humanity trying to figure out why we're here & what it's all about & yeah, somewhere in this I just realized afresh how that true revelation, those moments when we finally 'get it' do not come because we figured them out through our own merit, through our efforts of thinking. Instead it's these moments of where stuff that's been brewing on our heart & brain for days, weeks, months or sometimes years suddenly becomes blindingly clear..... & these clarity moments come when we are not expecting them....

...like just now, the word clarity strikes me. At work I have to come up with random passwords each month & somehow in this months & wove 'clarity' into one of the passwords because at the time, thats what I needed. My thoughts were a jumble of loose ends & rabbit trails & I couldn't find a way to unravel it all... so clarity is what I needed. Got some clarity on things earlier in the month & was grateful for that, but yeah, realizing that there is so much more clarity to come. It struck me in just this moment that I've been looking for 'changes' each month of this year, things to turn the titanic around, to reshape my life so it's very different in the end of 2007 than what it was when I began. In this moment I see that 'clarity' is what this month is about - and maybe it's just going to keep going.

& it feels good with the work/life confusion to realize again (as wise friends have mentioned to me), that the truth of what is 'next' will just dawn on me eventually....

....but yeah, other revelation: From listening to the song "hold fast hope" off a Thrice album that Nolan's lent me - realized again how much Jesus draws parallels between his life & Jonah's. Both end up fast asleep in a boat in the middle of this crazy storm. Both end up calming the sea. Both end up three days & three nights in the 'grave'. Both of their 'deaths' cause gentiles to praise & worship God. Both find 'resurrection' after three days.

You'd think out of all the people in the Bible that Jesus could compare himself to, Jonah wouldn't be one of them, but yet Jonah, in his running from God ends up becoming metaphor, becoming a picture of Christ in so many ways.... & this is just wild, that some how the stories of rebellion can still point to the only obedient one.... I think of Samson, too, who 'did more in his death than he did in his life' & how even in this, we find something that points to the cross, some strange parallel between Samson's last thrust of strength to topple the pillars and Jesus's triumphant cry of 'it is finished'.....

...and so it's wild to realize that our lives, in either running to or running from Him, all points to Him.....

.... and one last revelation - the big one for tonight, which is something I've somehow been pondering for unrelated reasons, but it just came together tonight... I,uh... we.... we were listening to a sermon my Martin Luther King, Jr. tonight. I've never really heard him speak before (other than the 'I have a dream' bit)... but it was rich. Didn't agree with everything, but most everything was fantastic & he was talking about Mark 10:35-45... it's where James & John come to Jesus & ask to be seated on his right & left in his coming kingdom.... and Jesus looks at them & goes, 'you don't know what you're asking. Can you drink of the cup I that I drink of & be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" & they reply "yes" to this.... & yeah, the thoughts of the cup (& a zillion other thoughts) have been stuck on my brain afterwards... Jesus looks at James & John & their bold reply & says, "Yes, you will indeed drink the cup I drink & be baptized with my baptism"....

the cup is the cup of suffering, the baptism, well, I maybe don't understand that yet... but it leaves me thinking. Out of the 12 disciples, it was James who tasted that cup first. He's the first of the 12 (not counting Judas) to taste death (Acts 12) & to experience the same sufferings that Jesus did. John is the last of the 12, alone on Patmos.... These two men bookend a trail of martyrdom amongst the original 12....

...Andy put a cup of wine in the middle of the room, to represent the cup of suffering & challenged us to take of it.... my first temptation: to rush over there & chug-a-lug it all down. Why? Not to quench some thirst or to satiate some longing for wine.... it's the symbolism. I've tasted, in limited senses, the cup of suffering & it's part of the life I've chosen. I've picked to embrace Philipians 3:10 - this prayer that I long to know Christ, the power of His resurrection & the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to his death.... I was counseled years ago to not pray that prayer by someone who prayed it & has reaped the sufferings (& some degree of wisdom). I was warned to not pray this 'cause of the 'cost'.... but yeah, maybe I have a silly heart like James & John & go, "meh, how bad can it be?"... & yeah, haven't regretted it. It means maybe a darker path at times, but it's a rich path & I wouldn't have it any other way....

But I find that, for as much as I value the lessons suffering brings, I tend to fear for those I care about & try to shield them from any form of suffering. Maybe some of this comes from a good heart, maybe it's all well intentioned, but yeah, I had it pointed out to me (in a sermon, so not directly to me) that Peter's advice to Jesus in Matthew 16/Mark 8 telling him, "Look, stop talking about this crucifixion stuff. You don't have to die. You'll be fine. " was actually the voice of Satan talking to Jesus (& the phrase 'get behind me satan is paralleled in Luke 4:8)....

... it's this thing of where a big part of Jesus's purpose here on earth was to die, to lay down his life as a sacrifice for the sins of the world.... Peter's call to turn from the cross was actually the voice of the enemy calling Jesus away from His true task.... and part of the revelation tonight for me was just how much I likely become the voice of satan some times to those around me by 'protecting' them from their crosses....

... there is a place of where we have to let go those we love. There is always the moment (or really a series of moments) where we release those we love to face suffering, to face the great dark & the worst suffering of all, facing these things alone.... We all must go through Gethsemane & find our friends sleeping in the moments when we sweat blood & tears... there is always the via dolorosa in our lives, the way of suffering, where we must march up the long road to gologtha, the place of death & be nailed to the cross, to face our myriad sufferings....

...I've walked these places many a time. In every moment I've looked beside me & somehow found Jesus waiting there with me - the one who faced these alone for me now refuses to let me be alone in these moments - He weaves himself in so he is closer than my skin, our breath, our tears combine & so it is hard to tell whether it's me weeping or His tears streaming down my face.... these have been the most intimate moments with God perhaps that I've had.... as we've shared the dark places.....

... and yeah, I have watched friends I love walk through these places. In some places I've somehow seen my powerlessness & had no choice but to step back & watch those I love most be stripped & hoisted high above to be objects of ridicule & scorn, bloodied trophies for a world that doesn't deserve to have people that good walk the soil of this planet. & I've stood there like the Marys... parent's heart breaking... or like Mary Magdelene, watching the embodiment of love be stolen from you by cruel hearts who never understood who they were really putting on that cross.....

...and yeah, it's this thing of where I am so comfortable in some ways with the cross for myself that it's 'easy' (ish) for me to face this, but so hard to watch others that I care about go through even the tiniest of sufferings.....

... and I mean, it's great that I want to help, want to be there, want to stay awake in Gethsemane, but yeah, in doing so, I rob friends of the intimacy of the shared space, the fellowship of sufferings, with Jesus... & yeah, in the end, I stand with the accuser to keep friends from their true places of growth....

.... was listening to another radio program last night that talked about risk & how kids today live in such a 'safe' world that they have no idea of how to take responsibility & don't feel like adults 'cause they never get to risk.. So they join gangs, do drugs, have sex young, all kinds of things just to take on something where they can feel like they've faced a risk & were able to overcome their challenges. The guy on the radio talked about how that parents can 'protect' their kids right into all the wrong things 'cause we as humans are made to, long to, find our maturity in learning to stand on our own two feet, to live the life of risk - to face uncertainty & possible collapse & find that we are enough to handle the situation.....

...so yeah, not sure if this is making any sense - it was clearer to me in the moment than what I'm able to put down now. But yeah, to my friends who I have 'sheltered' far more than I should have, I apologize. I forget that sometimes love stands aside & lets you go through pain so that you can grow & find confidence in your own heart & own strength.... I'm sorry for the places where I didn't trust God's hand of leading in your lives & recognize the places where your suffering produces good fruit in you.... I see the richness borne of pain in your lives & it's this depth of heart that I love about you all. I just forget that to get there sometimes means going through the crucible.... forgive me for trying to pull you out when God's trying to put you in...

... I'm learning slowly....

At the end of the day....

2007-02-20T21:23:00.000-08:00

Finished '24' season 5 tonight. Took a bit longer than expected. I figured I'd be home in time Sunday to put food in the oven, get toilet paper (found out the hard way that I was out - kleenex anyone?) & blaze through the last 4 episodes. But when I got home, my house was full & it took me much longer than I figured to get stuff done (& i was tired so fit in a nice 1 hour nap).

But yeah, no 24 on Sunday - instead cooking & resting & a lovely moroccan meal (cooked in the new tagine - in the oven this time with no cold water around) & great conversaton with a wonderful & dear friend. Got to talk science/engineering & tore the old dead-cell phone apart to show my friend the work I used to do. Realized that it's been a long time since I've done 'real' engineering (i.e. got my hands dirty) & designed circuit boards or programmed code. I miss that. There was some cool learning/challenging/creative moments in past work...

Monday night I got in 2 episodes. The roomies were both home wihich never happens, so we watched a movie together. Picked 'the War Tapes' a documentary from 3 National Guardsmen who wore/used cameras for their 16-18 month tour in Iraq. The movie's good. Gives you enough information that any bias could apply in the movie. Shows a lot of the good & the bad. Pretty upsetting & not so cheery movie though. Leaves me thinking that our planet is #$@#ed & I should move to the boonies & start stocking up canned goods & water... or maybe use my car less.... it's hard feeling powerless when you're watching the world you think you know crumble away & you see past the veneer that it's all about money & power... & those of us who know the real truth - that it's all about love - seem so unable to stem the tide... to plug the holes in the dam....

Felt pretty unhappy after this. Called a good friend to chat. We both likely needed to hear a friendly voice.... (or maybe just me more than she).

So tonight, the house is empty, all quiet, all to myself. Only sounds are random road & house noises & the occasional sound of falling Sigma 6 figures (man, I can not figure how to make those guys stay up - maybe it's the oversized weapons). And yeah, ate leftovers from Sunday night while watching the final 2 episodes of Season 5.

At the end of the 'day', at the end of the 24 episodes, it ends as it always does. Jack saves the day, but loses personally in the end... (though if he would've listened to me & took 10 minutes to upload stuff to YouTube, he might have saved himself some of the hassles) I remember resonating with Jack at the end of season 3, watching him weep & then brush the tears away to follow up on the next task, the next mission, the never ending battle of Jack Bauer...

& yeah, Jack looked happy (or as close as he gets) for a least a tiny bit at the end of the day.... sort of wish he could've stayed there.... that the day ended at 23 hours & 50 minutes & that 50th minute lasted for a long, long time..... I know, I know, we need to have season 6 & it's all exciting & stuff, but really, Jack's been through the wringer, we all need to cut him some slack & let someone else deal with the crises.....

I'm bummed. I want to say 'depressed' or 'lonely', but those words lose meaning for me 'cause I've used them too much. Maybe the better words to use are just to say that the 'void' is felt tonight... the empty places... the 'hollow way' that is in part my name & destiny... I've realized the redemptive power of my name - that I am here to walk in the hollow ways, to find people in the empty places & help them on their journey, to point to the light, the mountain tops, the next step, to keep them from staying forever in the hollow place & letting it consume them.... the only flip side of that is to live this you end up being in the hollow places a lot.... sometimes it's yourself that you have to coax out of the empty places & encourage to keep journeying....

.... Tonight I feel bulletproof, I feel unstoppable. I sense the reality that in Christ I cannot be halted or waylaid. I will continue to walk & journey through this life & pursue love &amp; joy & truth & freedom & light & life no matter what.... but this reality can co-exist with the reality of the empty places... I feel alone-ish tonight. I haven't been around people so much the last few days. This has been good, but I over think friendships & contemplate whether it's worth it to pursue trying to grow friendships or just to hide out at home with the TV & g.i. joes & random hobbies & live my life maybe waiting for things to come to me. I will choose to pursue, but yeah, the whining is there. My body longs for sex. I haven't tasted that fruit per se, thought about it a lot, but haven't gotten to it yet. Doesn't stop the cravings. Been thinking about an ex-girlfriend again. I want to see her to apologize for not being better to her. But part of me has the darker urges & that's part of why I miss her... my body remembers hers.... I also remember that she really liked me &, well, that was just a nice feeling to have for the time that it lasted....

... & so at the end of the day, this is where I sit. I don't want to do a lot. I write 'cause, well, I can. I may paint. I may go to bed early. Sort of want & don't want either of those... but at the end of the day, I sit in the empty places trying to make the best out of it & hope tomorrow looks a bit brighter.....

I use the phrase 'at the end of the day' a lot lately. It's like saying 'in conclusion', or 'when it's all said & done'... Really it means that once all of our trying & thinking & processing & trying to make sense of it all, the reality we are faced with is...... and yeah, maybe I'm not qualified to make statements like 'at the end of the day....' 'cause I sort of don't know what the end of the day, the conclusion of the whole matter, holds.... other than what Solomon tells us, "hear the conclusion of the whole matter, fear God, keep his commands for this is the whole duty of man"... and then he launches into Song of Songs, the epic love poem of the bride & groom, the two beloveds, Jesus's romance of humanity....

At the end of the day, there is love... &, I hope, there is redemption. At the end of some days we are left in the sunshine with the girl, smiling & breathless. At the end of other days we are left in the darkness of our darkest dungeons. But in all of it we are given life, given a chance for another day, another kick at the can, another shot at seeing good & living well... As long as there is breath in our lungs there is hope. His mercies are new each morning. Hope rises like the dawn.... blazing like the morning star.... in Him we live & move & have our being... we give, we try, we fail, we hurt, we succeed, we laugh, we get through, we survive, we manage, we cope, we live, we dance, we celebrate, we find joy, we hug, we smile & see others smiles... at the end of the day we are human & we are gloriously loved... & this lights the lanterns on the path of at least this hollow way...

Muse-ic

2007-02-18T00:10:00.001-08:00

Ended up in another rant today about the "Before the Music Dies" (B4MD) documentary. I seem to rant about this alot. Had a number of good running rants with Marty over lunch on Monday about the DVD. And had a good one today talking about how we're mortgaged the soul of our nation for the sake of quarterly earnings & shareholder profits...

...but yeah, suffice it to say that today was a day to thing about music, among other things.... thinking about the power of 'voice', of how you never know if one person could be the messenger for a generation, about how essential that could make one person's words or song... and yet, how God seems to layer His 'voice' & sends multiple prophets usually... though there is still this dynamic of where if one voice fails, God'll raise up another, but the message must still be told, sung, whispered, shouted...

...maybe one voice can't change a generation, but yet there are these songs that somehow become part of our collective conscious/unconscious in society & so maybe one song, one word, one voice can impact a culture for at least a moment of time in history...

... was hunting around on the net for where to pick up more Kathleen Edwards CD's. I've fallen in love (well, in a manner of speaking) with the album 'Failer' & was looking to hear more & found that Kathleen has another album out there. While following the links from her website to the 'Rounderstore.com' music website, I came across an artist listing for the Branford Marsalis quartet - another name from the B4MD video.

I've been quoting Branford a number of times already in a number of B4MD rants. One point he makes that echoes with me is that people usually won't 'get' the new music. We're all used to listening to what we like & so the truly new, truly innovative music is usually met with a certain level of apathy or disdain. The new stuff grows on us eventually & eventually we realize it's true greatness. Artist after artist has met with this, that their initial works are completely misunderstood & eventually people somehow 'get' it - likely at around the same time the artist is thinking about giving up 'cause no one understands.

But I think this is true of everything, not just music. Christianity is plagued with this, as is the rest of society. We usually crucify the 'new' stuff & then about 5 years later, for better or worse, totally embrace it. We're just about 10 years behind in our embracing of what the rest of society has already embraced.

Anyhow, I was mesmerized by the write ups on his disks & promptly ordered his "Braggtown" disk along with Kathleen's disks. But it was the write up on his record 'Eternal' that really caught my eye:

"Branford Marsalis knew that his quartet had achieved a new level of eloquence when two listeners told him on separate occasions that a ballad by the band had made them cry. "I had rarely heard that said about jazz before," says the acclaimed saxophonist, "and the comment made me realize that the quartet and I were achieving emotional development as musicians." The revelation led to Eternal, the September 2004 collection of original and classic ballads that realizes Branford's goal of "aiming for what Billie Holiday could do, which was to get to the emotions of each song." "

This has left me pondering for the rest of the day. I have to admit that I usually don't 'get' jazz. This, I know, automatically disqualifies me from being an audiophile... I feel bad about this. Lots of musical friends that I really admire love jazz, it's a part of their lives & they seem to 'get' it (if jazz can be 'gotten')... But yeah, so much of jazz is a mystery to me. I recently picked up a Stan Getz & a Chris Botti album on the recommendations of Jim Wilson. Both are fantastic albums, but they don't grip me, they haven't moved me... Maybe it's just that I haven't been paying attention. I listened to the Getz album while painting G.I. Joes & then later at work. Both cases may have left me distracted from treating it as more than background music (tonight while painting I was sort of only half way hearing all the screeching/ yelling/ screaming of Alexisonfire, so yeah, guess I can tune out anything while painting).

But, as Branford's note says, I don't think I've ever cried at jazz.... I've listened to some of the greats: John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis - all of them I enjoyed, but no tears....

...and this sort of says something (don't know what yet) 'cause i cry at everything....

... so wandered down to the Urban Sound Exchange & walked out of there with an Alexisonfire, Danko Jones & Branford Marsalis album (try to pin that to a demographic or marketing strategy!!) . They has a number of Branford's CDs. Looks like he's been around doing his thing for quite some time now (well, at least 15 years - that's the crazy thing about jazz - it's not like you get good artist recognition in the mainstream media ('cept for maybe Norah Jones- though I'm not sure if she counts, likely does, I just don't know)

Being there got me thinking about the progression of our music tastes over time. We seem to go through phases of what we love for music as we get older. It made me wonder if maybe all of us progress to loving jazz by the end of our lives.... made me wonder if maybe jazz is this elevated state of consciousness that we arrive at after years to wandering through the blues & rock & country & hiphop...

..got to thinking of my own musical journey & the soundtrack of my life and how much following the trail of CDs in my life would mirror the trail that my heart journey has brought me on... I thought about trying to chronicle that, but realized it would take days & would make my post painfully longer than the already painfully long length that they're usually at. But yeah, musically, my life has moved from the hymns to flirting with rock& roll & 'secular' music in my teens, to finally owning my first album, Rich Mullins, in my early 20's. Then it moved into various other Contemporary Christian Music, while mostly listening to Rich's stories. Then to indie Christian music, opened up by the world of the web & sites like Grassrootsmusic & PasteMusic which introduced me to rich lyricists like Bill Mallonee and Don & Lori Chaffer. And from there, the Christian artists introduced me to the 'spiritual' secular artists. U2, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Bruce Cockburn... and it's just kept going from there. This so mirrors the story of my life from being rooted in the church & the foundations of deep theology to seeing a world with temptations & brokeness & yet beauty & something good in it,too to moving into a life of Christian service & ministry & being 'in the church', to slowly more & more being expanded to see the greater world around & recognize that The Voice, the Living Word, speaks for all to hear & whispers through even the most broken & wretched vessels... (often more so in the 'pure' & polished ones)....

And I know that for most of my generation & the generations following that we can trace our growth as people by the changes in our music. But then again, I realized that this was likely true of my parent's generation & even while they didn't listen to the 'secular' music out there, Artists like the Beatles, Elvis, Johnny Cash, the music these people created impacted even the pseudo-sheltered world of my parents living in small town christendom.

And I wonder if maybe every human in every culture has a soundtrack to their lives. In tribal cultures, it is the songs that tell the stories of the tribe. History & knowledge are stored in music & rhyme. Children are sung to sleep by lullaby. Lovers sing to each other. Songs for drunken revelry abound. Nations have anthems, sports teams have songs. Warriors sing songs to prepare for battle or to sing of victory & mourn defeat... Asaph whispers some prophetic psalm asking "how can we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?"... somehow music, songs, are woven into the fabric of our everyday & it is this music in some ways which charts, or at least bears witness to, the events of our lives....Sometimes shaping, sometime reflecting how we are being changed, or how we are growing to be fully oursleves....

... so bailed on the community house people tonight (sorry) & declined the lovely offer to go for chinese food. I'd sort of planned for a quiet night at home to be able to cook & watch 24 & maybe paint & write some.... Partly just wanted a quiet night, partly wanted to cook to have leftovers for the week ahead, partly just wanted the night at home just because.... but anyhow, started my evening my making spaghetti, sipping on a glass or red wine & letting the notes of Branford's "Requiem" spill over me. Trying to absorb the music rather than try to understand it...

...Jazz is this strange kind of music (& to all the true Jazz lovers out there, please forgive me as I try to describe what Jazz 'feels' like to me. I mean no disrespect, but am just fumbling towards understanding...) In so many other types of music, the song is the key thing. There are notes to be played that follow a progression, that communicate a thought or a range of emotion. All the instruments, no matter how layered & textured the music is, they all point to that one thing & sort of speak to that one voice, the one story, or parable, that the song is communicating....

Jazz does not feel like this, or at least not the instrumental jazz that I often hear & heard tonight. Jazz somehow pulls together a collective of masters, experts at their own instrument & puts them together in this loose structure called a 'band' & the instruments/players then dynamically collaborate with each other. If there are notes to follow, some overarching direction that they are taking, it's imperceptible - the music seems to wander like my train of thought, it moves in & out, sometimes loud, sometimes soft, sometimes one instrument emerges, to become the lead or the solo, but other moments it's a cacophony of noise, instruments playing on top of each other, sometimes all in different timing & melody... It is this odd, odd place, where somehow the musicians seem to be solely individuals playing, but yet somehow they are one & singing one song, though the song breaks, defies, the rules of what a song should be. Any stories told here, must be felt, as your heart is caught by one instrument, lifted to blazing heights by one solo string of notes & then abandoned to come crashing down onto the next stream of sounds...

Sometimes I think that the solos in jazz are just people showing off who can move their fingers the fastest... like some strange competition to determine who can shove as many notes as possible into a minute of time... Tonight though, the flurry of notes sounded more like ecstatic utterances, like babbling in tongues, the person somehow caught by God & unstoppably declaring mysteries & revelations that only the heart can hear....

Maybe it is hard to cry at jazz because it is such happy music... or well, happy is the wrong term. In jazz it feels more like the musician is caught up... captured & captivated by the complete giving of themselves to the music & the moment. For the collaboration to be great, you must give yourself to the moment, listen to the other players around you & let their song inspire yours & you build off of each other until the point of where you are racing to keep up with the pace of what you are creating/what is creating you... the music comes faster than you can get the notes out & it is a struggle to keep up... This is a 'holy' (or perhaps rather 'wholly') place of where you must be fully present, fully surrendered & there is perhaps no sadness in that. Sadness may come from the exhaustion at the end of the night, but in the moment, there is only the song, only the music, only the next notes - the player becomes the instrument & breath from somewhere beyond begins to blow on the player, coaxing & caressing them to bend & move & sing to a tune greater than themselves...

...this results in an 'excellence' in jazz - a place of where people become disciples of the creative process & have to dedicate themselves to being the best they can be & this shines in the music of the great jazz masters...

At the end of the day, I was left to wonder if all we'll sing in heaven is Jazz.... Jazz is the melody sung by the slaves as they gained their freedom & in heaven there will not be a one of us who will not sing the song of the redeemed. All of us have been slaves here on planet & none of us enters heaven out of our own merit. We call come as slaves liberated by the true emancipator. In heaven, we trade in faith & hope for certainty & seeing & we hang on to love... Maybe we trade in our blues for joy, the anger of our punk for peace, maybe in seeing we are left with only music with no rules, music where we all get to play our part & while somehow it sounds like we're singing different songs we all sing that one song of the slaves that are freed, celebrating the beloved who has set them free...

..or as Brandford says, maybe the music of heaven is something we've never heard yet. & we may not even like it at first, but I'm sure we'll get used to it.....

Voices

2007-02-18T00:09:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow AM is first time back at converge/epic since David's messenger/message thing....

...pray that we don't go silent....

Maybe my dad is right after all...

2007-02-16T21:26:00.000-08:00

.... well, he often is - right that is. He's always telling me I need to go to bed earlier & need more sleep. Last night I went to bed well sometime before 11PM instead of the normal midnight, 1 or later AM... & yeah, woke up feeling good about me & about life & work actually went well & I'm still in a good mood (though starting to feel tired, now).... but yeah, may have to try to make a lifestyle change.

This would not be easy. I've an evening person in a generation of evening people (well, at least most of my friends are night owls, too). Hanging out with people means being up late - though then there's always my staying up later processing life after I get home. But yeah, maybe more sleep should actually solve half of my emotional struggles (but where would be the fun in that ?! - just kidding)....

...anyhow, we'll see how that goes. Tonight it's now 10:30 & have a friend wanting me to go for wings... so yeah, not a great start...

Hour 16

2007-02-16T21:23:00.000-08:00

EEP!!! Apparently I may have misjudged President Logan.....

... will have to keep watching to find out.... though not tonight... another 3 episode run tonight... I've likely had enough adrenaline for one night....

Ugh....

2007-02-16T06:47:00.000-08:00

Too many nights
of not enough sleep
have finally caught up with me

Chose to bail on the community house people half way through the evening. Found myself exhausted & coughing & fighting a cold... just generally feeling crappy. So took the 'better part of valor' & retreated.... tired of being a zombie & 'stealing my paycheck' at work, too.

Got a bit more sleep last night & feeling psuedo-decent this morning. Looking forward to a less-planned weekend with hopefully time to catch up on some sleep (if I'm smart enough to do so).

Heart full of surrender: P.S.

2007-02-13T22:36:00.000-08:00

Forgot to mention in the post, that I had the urge tonight to go back to that same spot & try hitting that approach/left hand turn lane again at about the same speed (when no traffic was around of course). Wanted to hit that thing over & over again until I conquered it & conquered fears with it...

...this is maybe part of the change in me... making mistakes & learning how to overcome the 'failures', inadequecies, challenges, etc....

Pillow Talk

2007-02-13T22:01:00.000-08:00

This maybe doesn't fit well with the seriousness of my mood right now (see the post below).... but had a thought while staring at my computer screen last night that one of the many things I look forward to having when I'm with someone/married is pillow talk. This place of being able to end (& maybe start) your day next to someone you love, to share your heart of hearts & summarize/bookend your day sharing the final or opening thoughts of the day with someone who your story matters to & whose story matters to you.....

...had a thought that maybe this is why i delay going to bed for so long. I'm looking for those moments for the last thoughts of the day to filter through... Once i hit the pillow, I drift into the subconscious quickly.... Sort of psuedo realized that maybe I should turn these things to prayer & let God be my 'pillow talk' buddy instead of just filtering through my own thoughts while staring blankly at the comptuer screen while playing solitaire or reversi....

...anyhow, hope you all, single or couples, have a fantastic Valentine's day. I'm really, really happy about Valentine's day tomorrow. I'm sort of psuedo-celebrating not being interested in any one, in not having any 'potentials' on the radar & being free to just be single & sort of throw away the longings for finding someone... I have seldom lived in this place & I'm trying to prolong it for a while... I have lived most of my life single, but have had a tendency to go from crush to crush.... holding on to the ideas of 'potential' women like they were some security blanket.... some faint hope that I won't die alone 'cause this or that person is out there & maybe they'll like me... Right now I'm just trying to concentrate on liking myself without crutches...

But yeah, this somehow makes me really happy about Valentine's day 'cause I see it as a celebration of love &, man, if there's anything that should be celebrated it's love... Love's the greatest gift we give & receive.... & receive in the giving/give in the receiving, whatever...

It's just nice to be free to celebrate this with the rest of humanity instead of doing the "woe is me, poor single me" stuff that I may have done in the past....

Heart full of surrender

2007-02-13T21:59:00.000-08:00

I left work today contemplating whether I should sell my car & get a new one. The mileage is getting up there, maybe it's time to trade things in. This got me thinking about finances & longer term stuff. What if I quit my job? Maybe I could become a radio engineer for CKUA? How much do they make? I wouldn't know how to do the work, but I'm sure I could learn....

...then got thinking about the icy roads, about car accidents, about death, trying to protect people in my car from pending accidents, me dying, etc....

Merged onto John Laurier on the way to pick up Jason to go for supper. Roads looked clear, I got cocky. Was driving along just fine & then went to turn into the left hand turn lane to turn onto Charleswood.... There's a car at the bottom of the hill &, as I press on the brakes, I find it's all ice & no traction beneath me..

They say in accidents that everything goes in slow motion. Not so sure this is true. Everything seems to happen in real time, it's just that your brain is running so fast processing options that you're not able to give solutions/action to the rest of your body to react fast enough & everything feels like you're moving through molasses....

... so I start to skid. My brain starts sending images of crashing into the back of the car at the bottom of the hill. I panic, suddenly forget all the good winter driving skills. The car skids to the left, I compensate to the right & worry about turning into traffic coming behind me. Then I turn left & the car keeps pulling for theh meridian. I wonder if it'll stop me - maybe that's the solution. Portions of a radio conversation from days ago flood my head. Someone's calling about a car jumping the meridian on John Laurier & crashing into oncoming traffic. Fatalities... I press the brake harder, trying to stop & the skid pulls me all the way around.....

...and in that moment, I gave up. I stopped fighting, stopped trying to come up with the solution to the problem. I surrendered to defeat, expecting to hear the crunching shattering breaking sounds of car on car. I expected to be spun around, thrown into traffic, the car (& maybe me) mangled beyond recognition... for the moment that it was in it was an oddly peaceful place.....

...but no crunching came. Somehow the car spun 180 & stopped - neatly in the left turn lane facing back up the hill towards traffic.... somehow in the middle of a rush hour commute, I hit a pocket, a window of time & space where it was 'OK' to go spinning in a 180 on a busy road....

...it took me a few minutes to collect my thoughts, to calm down & go to work of solving how to get turned around. People saw my predicament & were nice enough to stop to let me turn around (again, a small miracle for Calgary drivers). & I managed to drive off unscathed.... though shaken to the core....

I started beating myself up after this. What was I thinking? Why did I lose my brain? I know how to drive in winter - stay off the brake, try to steer out of the skid? What kind of 'man' are you that you couldn't handle this?

Most of all, I hated the heart full of surrender. I don't like the ways that I give up, where I throw in the towel easy. Where was that fight that I talk about/long for? Where was the lion's heart to never give up? Why is it that I'm willing to let go, say goodbye, end life? Where's my tenacity? Why didn't I keep fighting to the bitter end?

I sat there going, "wow, I got lucky"... & kind of felt the unexpected voice correct that to say that, "No... you were preserved....protected"... Felt the sense that this was again something to say that I'm in His hand - despite the ways that I forget this & feel that I'm on my own here on planet earth....

... There are places where the heart full of surrender is the right thing.... moments where your fight for control is the last thing you need. If the surrender hadn't come, would things have worked out with the car, or would I have made it all worse? If I hadn't surrendered & stayed calm, would it have worked out? Who knows. The hard part is knowing when to surrender & when to fight.... it's hard to know in the moment. It's hard to know even in retrospect....

... I did a lot of 'penance' driving after that - driving real slow & cautious, taking back roads - trying to remove myself from being a menace to society.... Jason missed my not-so-subtle hints of wanting to vent; "Pay attention to me, I could've died!!".... probably just as well. I'm not always a fan of my drama queen persona either....

Still shaken... muscles are tense. Will try a hot bath to see if it calms my nerves...

Tracing the threads of Kingship

2007-02-11T23:20:00.000-08:00

Decemberish 2003: It is the year after my sabbath year. I've started work at GD. Started going to Epic/Converge. I've been through my first two 24-7 prayer rooms. The first brought life & new friendships & excitement & hope & shared dreams & a sense of wonder that anything could happen. The second, I allowed my pride & false identity to burn me out. God spoke to me of rest, I didn't listen & lost.... lost hope, lost dreams, lost passion, lost the sense that people were there for me/with me & I felt pretty desolate after that.

In December, on some chilly winter night, was at the Sunridge spectrum with a number of friends to watch "Lord of the Rings: Return of the King". About half way through the movie, Elrond comes to Aragorn to present him with Anduril, Flame of the West, re-forged from the shards of Narsil, his father (or forefather)'s sword... & in that moment, Elrond says to Aragorn: "Leave the ranger behind, become who you were born to be".....

...and this one line strikes me with the impact of a freight train & I realize, or feel, that it's a message from my Father to me to call me away from my ranger lifestyle - being on my own, trying to serve others, look out for others, fight for others, but all on a very limited, hit & run, very alone basis - and move into walking out my calling as a priest-King, as one of the sons of God.... This calling would mean walking in community, exercising authority, believing that I have this authority, walking as a king instead of someone hidden always in the periphery.....

...and so this excites me. I am commissioned. I have a new calling, new perspective. I go out the next day to a local sword shop & buy 'Narsil' - they haven't released Andurils yet for mass public distribution, so this is the closest i can get in that moment to having the sword that helps seal this message of kingship.... & I show off the sword a lot to people, tell them about what I 'heard' & about how this is going to change me, etc......

March 25, 2005: It's the day before my birthday. I am awakened by a dream that feels significant. In the dream, I am walking around what feels like the park at the entrance to Bowness by the John Hextall bridge (forget the name - there's a swimming pool there). I pass by the bridge to go down to the footpath that runs under the road. While walking under this road, I'm 'assaulted' by some black haired kid/ageless being wearing a white robe (now that I think about it, he looks kind of like the Jesus figure in the movie 'The Messenger' (which was a very faith affirming movie for me, unlike for most people) 'cept much happier). & this kid - he looks like he's 10-12, but I get this sense that he's somehow old & young & just without age - is full of joy & life & he has some plastic tube lightsaber type thing & suddenly I have one & the kid/ageless being basically 'sword fights' with me using these plastic tubes all the way under the bridge & up to the surface again (where the scene seems to shift to what feels like some of the concrete plant pots beside the Kensington Safeway. And I'm partially annoyed by this kid 'cause he won't leave me alone & I have to work really hard at the sword fighting to keep up with his play & 'defend' myself, but it's hard to be mad at the kid when it's obvious how much he's enjoying himself. Anyhow, we get to the top & I sit there resting trying to catch my breath & the kid/ageless being, now perched on top of one of the concrete things, asks me (hrm, forget this part exactly, but I think this is right), "Does your sword have a name?" & I pause for a while thinking & then say, "I have a sword at home named Narsil"....another long pause.... "it's the sword of the king".... and at this point in the dream, I burst into tears, big huge sobs wracking my body, my emotions torn between a release & the shame of how I felt that I haven't grown into kingship over the last number of years.

Jan 27th, 2007 at the community house: I'm sitting in a room full of people. The 9 from the [um] (Urban Monastery - 10 if I count me), Paul & Corey & kids, Phil & Steph, and I'm overwhelmed by a bunch of kingship imagery. I'm suddenly seeing, no, rather, feeling the spheres of influence carried by each of the people in the room & sensing that I am in a room with mighty queens & kings, rulers over art, business, peoples, nations, etc. etc.... In the middle of all of this, my heart starts pounding like it's going to jump out of it's chest & I feel we're to pray for Andy & crown him 'Arthur' - a leader among equals, a king among queens & kings & this imagery is confirmed by RJ who has the same thoughts/visions. In the middle of this, my kingship thoughts come up & thoughts of 'adoption' & I tell the group that I need their 'adoption' of me 'cause without it, I may not enter into the full release of my kingship/authority (again, I've been feeling that the ranger/king - alone/community contrast is there & I've felt in the past that part of what's standing in the way of my 'release' is maybe my lack of community)

& yeah, now I'm just not sure. I am sorting through the 'authority' stuff. The imagery/lessons are coming up over & over again in both my life & the lives of my friends. I see us stepping into this place of recognizing truly who we are & living out of that & recognizing that we are sons & daughters of God, joint heirs with Christ & that somehow (& yeah, I know this sounds like i'm on crack), the wealth of who Jesus is at our command... we have no idea who we really are & the true extent of the authority we walk in as priest-queens/kings....

& yeah, so that's what I'm trying to sort out lately. Even more than figuring out what I'm doing with my life, I'm trying to sort out the deeper questions - who am I? Do I live out of the core of who I am? Do I believe that there is greatness, goodness, love, strength, authority, wisdom, courage, nobility, etc. at the core of who I am? Do I believe truly that Christ indwells me, that He in me is the hope of glory & that His life flows through me & floods every cell & vein & synapse.... ?

I think perhaps the answers to this will ripple through the rest of my life & as each of us steps from behind our shadows, our own masks that hide our true 'glory', we will see our lives & the world around us transformed.... but part of this will not happen if we refuse to shine, refuse to be seen, refuse to believe the truth of who we are....

...and yeah, guess that's the hard part. Not so sure than any of us really 'sees' each other (& especially not ourselves) as we really are. The lies are always easier to believe than the truth it seems.....

...but the tectonic plates in me are shifting, the continents of my heart are moving, rumbling, some parts being crushed & burned in molten fire, other parts being reborn in flame & light... new things are coming....

space

2007-02-11T23:18:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to say I'm doing well & happy (or as close as I get :) ) & very thankful for good friends & chances to grow.

Things I learn from TV: Leadership in '24'

2007-02-11T23:17:00.001-08:00

Have started blazing through 24 season 5 this week. It's been sitting on my shelf since early Dec. I pick up the season set DVD's right away when they're released & then wait for a space in my life to open up where I don't have a lot of other activities on the go & so can power-watch through the show. Once started, you get caught up quickly in the excitement & keep wanting to find out what happens next in each episode.

It's likely a good thing that I'm watching these shows on my own in the privacy of my living room in an empty house. I a lot of my 24 viewing time swearing & shouting advice at the TV. That & i'm all kneeling on the floor, perched in tension, or waving my hands around, pulling at my hair, other random signs of tension... Yeah, it would be a pretty sad sight to see if someone suddenly walked in on me. Mostly it's just that I get pretty wound up in the story & it's a tad tense at times... which makes me a tad tense. I think I've got some sore muscles from the stress...

Today I power watched through 3 episodes in a row & made it to the 1/2 way point of the series. I should likely try to limit my 24 exposure to a couple of shows per day. Three episodes in a row may be a bit much for the heart to handle... I was all sweaty feet & beating heart & one big stress ball by the end of it (& yeah, swearing a lot). David came home near the start of episode 12 (the 3rd episode I'd seen today) & so I had to tone it down a bit, but there was still a lot of cursing going on at the end, just quieter.....

... I'm finding that the show, both in this season & in past seasons, is really contrasting the decision making abilities of the various 'good guys' in the show. So much of the theme of 24 seems to be wrapped around making choices and then accepting/dealing with the repercussions of those choices (which was also one of the main themes from Babylon 5, another show I tended to power-watch). The very normal people in the show begin to take on heroic proportions as they are confronted with really hard decisions & they choose to risk, make decisions & then work through the consequences of those decisions. The, for lack of a better term, weasel people in the show are people who are supposed to be the 'good guys', but they're more worried about saving face, image, vying for power.

This contrast is seen starkly between the old president from seasons 1-3 & the new president in seasons 4&5. The old president was faced with numerous hard choices & he tried to stick to his integrity & walk those choices through. Sometimes he made the 'wrong' choices, chose to listen to those around him & try to cover things up. This always cost him & in the end, he accepted that cost, embraced the consequences & worked through those consequences to move back into a place of integrity & being true to his values. The new president on the other hand, can't make a decision to save his life (one of the main reasons for my swearing lately). He constantly looks to his advisors to tell him what to do & then blames them when something goes wrong. (which reminds me of some managers I've worked for... I'm sure you could teach a whole slew of business classes analyzing the different management styles shown by people in 24.)

In more recent years, God's been moving me from servanthood into sonship and I find the messages of these TV shows constantly resonating with me. I seem to have struggled in my past with decision making. I'm a 'perceiver' as part of my personality type. This means I seldom see things as black & white. Most times it's seeing all sides of an argument, all possibilities of a decision. This has had a tendency to paralyze me as there are no 'right' decisions, only a range of decisions some with possibly more favorable outcomes than others. As part of my INFP personality, I naturally run away from conflict & so this is often another factor that challenges my decision making processes. In the past, I've received various wounds in my decision making ability from conflicts from parents & other respected people. I spent a lot of my early 20's trying to make good life choices & found myself told often that I was making the wrong choices & being 'irresponsible' 'cause I wanted to do ministry stuff (help the poor, counsel people, etc.) more than the white picket fence stuff (career, house, etc.). Some of the wounding in decision making comes from this expectation that I will always pick the wrong thing. Some of this was reinforced as a teen working with my dad & being sent somewhere to find something or do something & I never seemed to get it right. Often times I'd start looking for something, realize I wasn't finding it, then start to look frantically & try everything to find what I was looking for, expecting my dad's yell at any time... and eventually I'd reach a point where I'd just give up & wait for my dad to come find me, yell at me & pull out in a few seconds the thing I found so hard to find.

I've noticed in the past, that there are the occasional days at work where I have hard choices to make & I sort of sit there, waiting for my boss to come yell at me & make my decisions for me.....

...and this extends to God stuff, too. I think so often, I've left my life up to looking for 'God's will' instead of making choices of my own 'cause I was afraid that I'd always pick the wrong choice. Prayer became begging for signs, for Gideon's fleece, for some clear cut demonstration that I was to take one path or another. Often I got frustrated with God 'cause the signs didn't come, or weren't clear enough. Or other times, I thought I was reading the signs right & it seemed to turn out all wrong & so I'd go off blaming God that He's led me down the wrong path....

... but yeah, that has been changing over the last number of years. I still pray for direction, but I sort of don't expect much. The prayers become more conversation than begging, more talking stuff through with a good friend than requesting direction.... Other times it's the prayer of "God, this is what I'm doing... if you don't want me to go down this road, you'll have to intervene & help put me on a different path".

I am starting to loose my fear of failure, my fear of mistakes. I'm starting to realize that every choice made has consequences, both good & bad. Choosing one thing means saying no to everything else & so you, as a being caught in time & space, begin to make decisions based on what you want, or think you want, or what you think is right for this moment in time.... This will result in a whole chain of events that you will have to walk through because of the choices you've made. One choice always leads to another series of choices. Every choice holds consequences of how it will shape the next moments, the ongoing path of your life. Running & hiding from the consequences will do you no good. The only way to get through life is to choose again & again & again....

.... there's a scene in a Joan of Arcadia episode (& I may have commented on this earlier, I'm starting to feel senile with my blog 'cause so much of what I'm writing now seems like re-runs of past posts) where God is talking to Joan & reveals to her that He is always about "what are you going to do now?". The show paints a picture that God doesn't tie us to our past like it's some great anchor, instead He asks us over & over again, "So what are you going to do now?" & we have to live in the eternal now making choice after choice....

Watching 24 makes me think through this process in my life. Makes me ask the question again of "what am I going to do now?". I've spent the last number of months in a process of trying to decide what to do with my life. I've made some choices & changes, but there's still much more to go. I'm trying to figure out how to take the plunge from the engineering world into... into, well I don't know what.... the 'life of faith' is the only clear(ish) words I can use to describe it.... it's leaving to live in the places of my passions, to live in the great black unknown mystery of whatever is next in my life...

...and I haven't taken the plunge - yet. I haven't just leapt off the platform into the air hoping that God'll catch me. Some days this choice ('cause choosing not to do something is still a choice) curses me & the voices tell me that I'm acting like the new president on 24, waiting for someone to tell me what to do... Other days, the other voices, reinforced by kind words from good friends, remind me that the engineering world will wash away like the tears of longing I've cried at work & life will melt into the new choices... the next things...

And yeah, in this moment, I believe in who I am growing to be. I am starting to become a man who makes choices, takes ownership of things, both with work & (far more importantly) all of the decisions/people/things that fits into my sphere of influence. The twin responsibilities of choice & consequence are things that I carry with me now & I start to see that maybe I'm not so bad at choices as I maybe think..... Not always that good, but definitely getting there....

This transition is so much a part of the maturing process (& hence is something I maybe should've figured out a long time ago, but hey, I'm starting to get it now, so it's all good).... Without taking ownership of our own choices & life & the consequences of that, we never fully step into our own or into the fullness of being who we are meant to be. We are not made to live in someone's shadow (other than perhaps that of Jesus, but even there He calls us to be a mature bride, a full partner in our adventure with Him). We are made to shine, our light is not to be hidden under a basket &, like with 24, the heroes are separated from the weasels in their commitment to take responsibility, take ownership, of their choices.

Galatians chapter 3& 4 (& really the whole book) in the Bible talks about this transition from servants to sons/daughters. There is a transition in authority that comes with this. Servants are only living in authority when they are doing exactly what their master tells them to do & they have no authority other than the word that is given them by their masters. Sons & Daughters on the other hand carry the weight of the family authority. They are part of the bloodline & speak for the 'house', for the tribe, the line, the name.... ultimately for their Father...

Again, contrasting the two presidents in '24'; the first president actually acts like he's the president. The second president seems to be president only in name. So, too we, who live as sons & daughters of the most high, we carry the full weight of authority of being heirs with Jesus, but so often I think we don't really believe that, or know what that means.... Taking responsibility for our lives & our choices is, I believe, a huge step towards this. It's learning to exercise 'rule', acting as a king/queen, over the 'sphere of influence' that is currently in your life. As you become more & more comfortable in 'ruling' over what's currently in your 'sphere', it seems that the sphere always expands to open a wider sphere of influence. (this is discussed well in Bob Sorge's book on Envy).

The apostle Paul, writer of a lot of the new testament, keeps throwing in these random comments that he figures should mean something to us & it's great.... I'm always going, 'whoa, could you explain that to me in a bit more detail 'cause I have no idea what you're talking about?" In 1 Corinthians 6:3 he throws out this random statement: "Don't you know that we shall judge angels? how much more things that pertain to this life? " & yeah, I have no idea what this means, but it says to me that God is working on training his sons & daughters & teaching them to lead. To 'rule' - which to Him means to be the servant of all, to show strength through caring for the weakest & standing up for the oppressed & needy.... (again, characteristics seen in the 1st president in '24' & not so much in the 2nd one).

Lucky

2007-02-11T00:35:00.000-08:00

Spent the evening chatting with another friend & she mentioned something to the effect that most women she knew, especially Christian women, were waiting for some guy to save them.....

....and I sat & pondered this & thought through the wealth of fantastic gal friends & acquaintances that I have been fortunate enough to get to know over the years & a smile/smirk started forming on my face.... this from the realization that, well, I don't really know very women who are waiting for a guy to save them.....

... my gal friends, past & present, for the most part want to find love, they want to be swept off their feet & romanced & to have a man fight for them & sacrifice for them & all of that, but this is an entirely different thing from being 'rescued' or 'saved' by a guy....

... nearly all of my gal friends are vibrant women, women filled with passion & life & heart. They have a richness of being & live to pursue the passions of their heart. The women I'm lucky enough to be friends with are women who know themselves (or are at least learning who they are) & they refuse to be boxed, chained, or be told what to do.... The idea of a guy 'saving' them would be met with at least confusion & at most utter disdain.... on the occasional times where I've been foolish enough to try to 'rescue' my gal friends from whatever perceived 'danger' they were in, my efforts have been met with either a kind rebuke to complete hostility &, while I may look all hurt & winge-y at the time, I wouldn't want it any other way.

There is an aspect of where as humans we all need a 'rescue'. We all need to be loved. We all need to be freed from our self-destructive tendancies. We all need to be reminded of hope.... but ultimately we find these things in Christ & the places where we find them in others are really only shadows of His greater rescue....

....but yeah, I'm thankful for the reality that my gal friends are strong women, that they are not fragile flowers waiting for some man to come riding to their rescue... my gal friends are beautiful, feminine women, but yeah, the majority of them are warriors in their own right & not people to be trifled with.....

...so yeah, walked away from the evening feeling very lucky for the richness of my friendships & for the gift of having a life full of friendships with gutsy women (including my mom)... & so thank you, as me & as a man, to my brave & courageous female friends who continue to battle to find their path, to discover who they are, to life & love to the fullest & who live to liberate others... you all have set a good example for me & for many others. Keep living the flame of your life & let no one, no man, steal that passion, that fire, from you..... blessings & peace.

Wouldn't want to cause diversity, now would we?

2007-02-11T00:25:00.000-08:00

Was chatting with a friend today & they were mentioning some conflict they were having with others & how they were kind of being silent about the whole thing & hoping it would go away. My friend explained the rationale behind this as being that they "didn't want to cause diversity"....

...what my friend meant to say was that they didn't want to cause 'division' over differing strongly held opinions, but what came out of her mouth was so much more interesting & so telling....

... the richness of humanity & the richness of the church is our diversity, all of us are unique, none of us will every be duplicated, not now, not ever... the random collection of cells & tissues, thoughts & ideas, emotions & personality, soul & spirit that make up each of us are put together in such a way that, while each of us shares a lot of similarities with the rest of the human race, each of us is so extremely different, that we can well use the phrase "the universe next door" to describe those around us. Each one of us is this vast, unreachable expanse of mystery.....

...and this is our richness. Because of our differences, we can learn from each other. We don't have to fit everything into our one finite lifespan, we can learn so much from listening to others, from hearing of their experiences & using that as a bridge or stepping stool to reach to even greater heights (or decide to repeat the same lessons as others, just 'cause we want to).... in our uniqueness we get to be who we are instead of trying to be everyone else....

... but this is so stifled in society & especially the church. We are told to conform, to think the same, act the same. We worry a lot about being 'right' & compare our degree of 'rightness' with those around us, always trying to show that we are more 'right' than another... and all the while we become more & more alone & often lose more & more of who we are in our uniqueness, all for the sake of avoiding 'division' --- which again, is perhaps just avoiding 'diversity'....

... we need to embrace our diversity, we need to listen to each other, even when (& sometimes especially when) it's not what we want to hear or it's something different than what we're used to...

Joni

2007-02-09T00:04:00.000-08:00

Have been enjoying the gift of slowly experiencing Joni Mitchell's music... Her lyrics are a rich tapestry & I'm stunned by the depth of her storytelling.... & yeah, I could gush for a while, but all my spewing won't do her work justice, so here's some samples, just to show you what I mean:

The Magdeline Laundries - by Joni Mitchell

"I was an unmarried girl / I'd just turned twenty-seven / When they sent me to the sisters / For the way men looked at me / Branded as a jezebel / I knew I was not bound for Heaven / I'd be cast in shame / Into the Magdalene laundries

Most girls come here pregnant / Some by their own fathers / Bridget got that belly / By her parish priest / We're trying to get things white as snow / All of us woe-begotten-daughters / In the steaming stains / Of the Magdalene laundries

Prostitutes and destitutes / And temptresses like me / Fallen women / Sentenced into / dreamless drudgery / Why do they call this heartless place / Our Lady of Charity? / Oh charity!

These bloodless brides of Jesus / If they had just once glimpsed their groom / Then they'd know and they'd drop the stones / Concealed behind their rosaries / They wilt the grass they walk upon / They leech the light out of a room / They'd like to drive us down the drain / At the Magdalene laundries

Peg O'Connell died today / She was a cheeky girl / A flirt / They just stuffed her in a hole! / Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring! / One day I'm going to die here too / And they'll plant me in the dirt / Like some lame bulb / That never blooms / come any spring / Not any spring / No, not any spring / Not any spring"

Don Juan's Reckless Daughter - by Joni Mitchell

"I'm Don Juan's reckless daughter / I came out two days on your tail / Those two bald-headed days in November / Before the first snowflakes sail / Out on the vast and subtle plains of mystery / A split tongue spirit talks / Noble as a nickel chief / Striking up an old juke box / And he says: / "Snakes along the railroad tracks" / He says, "Eagles in jet trails" / He says, "Coils around feathers and talons on scales / Gravel under the belly plates" / He says, "Wind in the Wings" / He says, "Big bird dragging its tail in the dust / Snake kite flying on a string"

I come from open prairie / Given some wisdom and a lot of jive / Last night the ghosts of my old ideas / Reran on channel five / And it howled so spooky for its eagle soul / I nearly broke down and cried / But the split tongue spirit laughed at me / He says, "Your serpent cannot be denied" / Our serpents love the whisky bars / They love the romance of the crime / But didn't I see a neon sign / Fester on your hotel blind / And a country road come off the wall / And swoop down at the crowd at the bar / And put me at the top of your danger list / Just for being so much like you are

You're a coward against the altitude / You're a coward against the flesh / Coward caught between yes and no / Reckless this time on the line for yes, yes, yes! / Reckless brazen in the play / Of your changing traffic lights / Coward slinking down the hall / To another restless night / As we center behind the eight ball / As we rock between the sheets / As we siphon the colored language / Off the farms and the streets / Here in Good-Old-God-Save-America / the home of the brave and the free / We are all hopelessly oppressed cowards / Of some duality / Of restless multiplicity / (Oh say can you see)

Restless for streets and honky tonks / Restless for home and routine / Restless for country safety and her / Restless for the likes of reckless me / Restless sweeps like fire and rain / Over virgin wilderness / It prowls like hookers and thieves / Through bolt locked tenements / Behind my bolt locked door / The eagle and the serpent are at war in me / The serpent fighting for blind desire / The eagle for clarity / What strange prizes these battles bring / These hectic joys these weary blues / Puffed up and strutting when I think I win / Down and shaken when I think I lose

There are rivets up here in this eagle / There are box cars down there on your snake / And we are twins of spirit / No matter which route home we take / Or what we forsake / We're going to come up to the eyes of clarity / And we'll go down to the beads of guile / There is danger and education / In living out such a reckless life style / I touched you on the central plains / It was plane to train my twin / It was just plane shadow to train shadow

But to me it was skin to skin / The spirit talks in spectrums / He talks to mother earth to father sky / Self indulgence to self denial / Man to woman / Scales to feathers / You and I

Eagles in the sky / You and I / Snakes in the grass / You and I / Crawl and fly / You and I"

There is a house in New Orleans....

2007-02-09T00:01:00.000-08:00

It seems like the lyrics of Amazing Grace can be sung to nearly any other song on the planet.... well, this is likely a bit of hyperbole, but I do remember back in the day going to Hope Mission in Edmonton with the church group I was part of & singing Amazing Grace to both "the Lion Sleeps tonight" & to the theme song from Gilligan's Island. (the former was met with silence by the assembled homeless people/worshippers, the later was met by comments of protest saying that the poor guy who wrote Amazing Grace was spinning in his grave).

This morning on the snowy, backlogged drive into work, I caught a rendition of Amazing Grace by the Blind Boys of Alabama singing the lyrics to the melody of "The House of the Rising Sun".... It took me a while to recognize the tune & when I did, the voice of the protesting homeless guy sounded for a little bit in my head... but I got over it. Oddly enough it was a really beautiful rendition of the song & oddly, powerfully redemptive...

The 'musical quote' (I love this concept - we 'quote' in writing all the time, never realized that you can do that in music as well) from 'The House of the Rising Sun' has been appearing in another tune that's been nibbling at my brain lately.

"The Saints are Coming" - U2/Green Day ( by Richard Jobson & Stuart Adamson)

There is a house in New Orleans, They call The Rising Sun.

It's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one of them.

I cried to my daddy on the telephone, how long now?

Until the clouds unroll and you come down, the line went.

But the shadows still remain since your descent, your descent.

The saints are coming, the saints are coming.

I say no matter how I try, I realize that there's no reply.

The saints are coming, the saints are coming.

I say no matter how I try, I realize that there's no reply.

A drowning sorrow floods the deepest grief, how long now?

Until the weather change condemns belief, how long now?

When the night watchman lets in the thief, Whats wrong now?

The saints are coming, the saints are coming

I say no matter how I try, I realize that there's no reply

The saints are coming, the saints are coming

I say no matter how I try, I realize there's no reply

Back in my days at the Gathering, I got caught up in the hype that God was leaving messages for us in the world around us & would look at everything as being somehow this secret hint from God about something he was up to. I'm not saying that I don't still kind of do that now, I'm just more cynical with it... Part of me totally believes that God whispers to us through art (& everything else) around us... but the other part of me knows that I have an overactive imagination & so I don't trust myself so much anymore with the 'insights' that I think I get.... (it's no wonder I fear becoming crazy when I sit there waiting for God to talk to me about what He's doing on the planet... though you've gotta wonder how often the prophets of old thought they were going bonkers... not saying that I'm a prophet, I'm just saying that to open yourself up to the possibility of the divine voice speaking into your live means that you open yourself up to walking the fine line between sanity & the funny farm).....

... keeping this in mind, I've been captured again & again by this song. Before Christmas it was on near constant repeat on the internal tuneage in my head... Over & over again - the saints are coming, the saints are coming... I ended up giving the single for the tune to a couple of people for Christmas hoping to catch their heart/spirit impression of the tune. Haven't heard anything from either of them, so i assume it doesn't really register with them as anything of significance & so maybe I'm just over-reacting.....

... the video for the song throws an entirely different slant on the song, too. Proceeds from the song go to support relief for Hurricane Katrina victims (hence the New Orleans connection) and the video shows 'news footage' of the hurricane Katrina victims crying out for help & then the headlines read that the military is called back from Iraq to help the hurricane victims & you see these lovely doctored/computer generated images of apache helicopters & bombers/cargo planes flying in & dropping off supplies (it almost looks believable 'cept for the occasional magic hovering plane)... & yeah, not sure what to think with the statements that are being made. I'm torn with the war in Iraq. Some days I think parts of the war is good, some times I think it's a really bad decision. Maybe most days I think it's both....

...but I have to admit that some of the imagery in the video sends shivers up my spine....

...maybe it's just that I sense the 'groan' through this song.... Romans chapter 8 in the Bible talks about how all of creation 'groans' in birth pangs, waiting for the new, the 'condemning of belief' (in that once we see what we hope for, we don't have to believe/hope for it any more 'cause it's there in front of us).... For years & years, maybe my whole life, I've felt this groaning - longing for the better country, for the city made without hands.....

....and yet we live in the place of groaning, the place of continually asking 'how long now?', in the land of a million little disappointments & little deaths... life ain't easy.... for me in general day was good - lots of lessons of being 'late' & learning that it doesn't really matter - that God has me (trapped/caught) in His timing & my moments are ordered by His hand.... so it was a good day to live in grace, to live in learning to rest.... but yeah, the people around me go through their tiny victories & disappointments... & yeah, I feel the groans....

....maybe it is only those who have been to the house of the rising sun who experience the riches of amazing grace.... maybe we only really understand grace, are amazed by it, after we have let the groans make a shipwreck of our lives... where the ache in our soul, the void deep within each of us has tried every other door, every other pleasure/pain in the hopes of finding something that makes us feel alive, maybe after we've failed at everything we finally fall on the cornerstone in brokenness & this is the place where grace really happens...

...maybe I don't really know....

Wind & Eden

2007-02-08T00:16:00.000-08:00

Have been contemplating goodbyes today. There seem to be a myriad of goodbyes in our lives. Big ones, little ones. Some for short times, some for forever.

I'm not very good at any of them. I cling when i should release, I stick my heels in when the goodbyes must be said, I hide from goodbyes & try to pretend they're not coming (when my friend Rachel left to move to Vancouver, I sort of tried to put off that goodbye 'cause yeah, didn't want to think about it... I'm trying to pretend that May won't come this year & my friend Sharon won't head off on her next adventure). I keep a very small collection of people close to me. They're a rag-tag bunch - all the best of the best of course - but they're an eclectic mix & i miss them when they're not around... Maybe it's just that there's not a huge number of them & so their presence is missed more when they go away... or maybe I'd feel this way even if I had a zillion friends. I guess you miss them 'cause they matter to you & if they didn't matter so much they wouldn't be good friends....

... but have been thinking about my 'good bye' processes today. Back when I was at the Gathering, I was pretty sure that I had some 'abandonment issues'.... it was sort of popular (or so it felt) to have some kind of issue or something in your past that could be cast out through prayer or whatever & so i think I probably took on this idea/identity hoping that I could find some 'root cause' for why I get clingy in relationships & why I sort of expect everyone to leave me eventually & why I fear this... I prayed about this a lot, but never really got any clear answer. Only imagery I got was something from childhood where there was a blizzard & my parents were away & i had to stay at my Granny's place for a while - I may have mentioned this here somewhere in the past - but yeah, that still didn't seem like enough to really cause some life-long neurosis....

So I've been contemplating this again. Thinking about how I miss 'reading' people's 'stories' when they're not around. I miss seeing the drama of what goes on in their lives. I miss most of all watching the Master Artist at work as God sculpts & changes their lives before my eyes... He is brilliant in how He sculpts us in the tiniest of ways in the smallest of moments... this blows me away... & yeah, I have to admit I'm sort of addicted to seeing this process in friends lives. It's not like I really get to see it that much, I'm not around people that often. But I love every chance i get to see the 'work in progress' artistry that is shaped in those that I value... & miss it when it's not there. It's sort of like trying to watch '24' (have finally started season 5 & am loving it) where you skip every two or three episodes... you kind of can get the general understanding of the story from the recaps at the start of each episode, but you miss the details, the fine points of the story.... it's like with my friend the Angel.... we both get busy & don't e-mail for months & then it's huge long e-mails to try to catch up... & we likely have face time once every 3-6 months... and in between those times you go through relative times of missing each other... some moments are pretty bearable. The people only enter your thoughts once in a while. Other times, everything reminds you of them & you ache to find out even the smallest bit of news about what's been happening in their lives...

So today on the drive down to JLYS, I'm thinking about all of this & thinking about how much I'm going to love heaven 'cause there, it's going to be one big long story-telling time.... We'll all get to sit around one big campfire & listen to everyone tell the details, every escapade, every adventure, every sculpting moment of their days & every part of the tale will show that Jesus was there the whole was, loving, supporting, freeing, growing us... & it will all be beautiful & it will all fit into the one big story of the Great Romancer winning the heart of His bride....

...and yeah, in thinking about this is struck me that maybe I'm not as neurotic as I think. (well, maybe a little)... Maybe I'm not afraid of abandonment - maybe I just realize that eventually all relationships end... we live in transition, we move around as the spirit leads & so we can't hang on to people 'cause God keeps shuffling them around the planet.... no matter how close the relationships get, there is always the day when you are parted by death.... every relationship on this world, on this side of heaven, ends.... and so my 'fear' is not being paranoid, it's recognizing the reality of it all...

...and I realized again, that, for whatever reason, I remember Eden well... my heart knows what that felt like - it's not something I've experienced; it's just a memory that is there just beyond my grasp. Goodbye was not a word that was made to exist in Eden. It's a word that was invented the day we bit the fruit..... and so it's no wonder I suck at goodbyes... We as humans weren't made with that as part of our make-up... we've had to learn to manage with it while having hearts that don't understand the concept of 'good bye'....

...and yeah, oddly enough, this realization is really freeing. It speaks to me that I'm not so screwed up as I thought & it again helps me hold on less tightly to the people around me... the stuff I admire about my friends is that they are children of the wind - they are moved by the spirit as He wills them, and like Philip you see them one moment baptizing someone & then suddenly whisked away miles away... it's just a reality that I have to learn to live with..... watching God move people around as He wills.... & yeah, that's sort of exciting & I like that idea.... I sort of always feel like the person being left & not so wind-blown, which sometimes is not so much fun, but yeah, guess that's OK, too... can always look forward to the eventual reunion & swapping stories whenever they happen (had a friend who I haven't heard from in 8 years e-mail me after finding my blog, so you never know when you get the chance to catch up with old & dear friends)

Anyhow, so yeah, feel kind of less clingy & more free with that all.... always nice to have thoughts that you're not crazy anyhow....

Songs that make me cry lately

2007-02-07T23:45:00.000-08:00

An old Hasidic rabbi, Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev in the Ukraine, used to say that he discovered the meaning of love from a drunken peasant. The rabbi was visiting the owner of a tavern in the Polish countryside. As he walked in, he saw two peasants at a table. Both were gloriously in their cups. Arms around each other, they were protesting how much each loved the other. Suddenly Ivan said to Peter, "Peter, tell me what hurts me." Bleary eyed, Peter looked at Ivan. "How do I know what hurts you?" Ivan's answer was swift: "If you don't know what hurts me, how can you say you love me?"

- from Brennan Manning's "Reflections for Ragamuffins, March 7 passage

I've always liked this story. It rings true. There are so many levels of friendship/intimacy/love. Every human is like an onion - which is always a stinky metaphor (get it? stinky...er, yeah..uhm) - nobody likes being called an onion, but it's one of the few things with layers... maybe roses have layers, too, but once you pull away all the petals, there's really nothing there - mind you this is true of onions, too....

...anyhow, the whole point is that when we first meet someone, all they see is (unless we're having a really odd day) the surface streets - we talk about the weather, sports scores, other totally benign topics... as we move from strangers to acquaintances to friends to best-buddies, we reveal more & more of who we are at our very core, we become, in some ways, more & more naked with the people we're close to (which may fit with the onion/rose metaphor)... we grow into having less & less secrets, barriers, blocks in place to protect the core of who we are from the prying eyes of those around us. & yeah, it's a bit of a cold world & so all the security measures of protecting our hearts are maybe necessary in lots of ways....

.... I think the story about the two peasants sort of highlights something. Often we think that we hide the very best for only those who we are closest with, that single gem that really captures the true beauty, the true essence of who we are.... but maybe this is not so true. I find that maybe in my life & in others, there is a tendency to be in such a rush to grow into true friendship/relationship that we maybe give away the core of us too quickly into the hands of those that maybe don't care as much as we figure... I've got lots of gal friends & have watched them give their hearts away to twit guys & it's admirable of the gals that they believe & trust in people & the possibility of love. & hence this is maybe one of the reasons I'm so hard on guys is 'cause I've watched too many dumbbells just not treat these friend's heart with the reverence they deserved.... (though I suppose I've probably done my share of not being as careful with hearts as I should)... I've been lucky in some ways... the gals I've fallen for have been semi-gentle, or maybe it's just that my core is either stronger than I figure, or it's been beaten up enough times that I don't notice another bump....

...anyhow, coming back off that rabbit trail, (Neil Young's "Only Love can break your heart" is playing in the background). There is a reality that perhaps the last things we show to those around us are the weak places, the things that hurt us.... We are slow to share our fears, our sins, our weaknesses. We desperately want to be loved & we fear that if others see the weak/twisted places that that'll prevent people from loving us. Mostly we're afraid that we're unlovable & we try to hide this fear from everyone else (who are also dealing with the same fear). We keep our armour up to protect ourselves & it's very few people to whom we share the chinks in our armour, the weak places where we are vulnerable. We don't really share the things that hurt us, except with those we trust will not exploit those weaknesses, & this is maybe one of the many reasons why, when a relationship breaks down, there is so much pain involved.... suddenly the person that you felt most safe with, that you've given the keys to your castle, now can use all of those secrets to hurt you...

But yeah, the above has sort of nothing to do with the rest of this post. There have been a number of times listening to tunes at work where specific songs have reduced me to sobs.... and I sort of wanted to capture them here in a 'these are the songs that make me cry' post. Mostly for my own benefit, something to maybe help me chart patterns in my own life. Sometimes we are most blind to our own hearts & so this is my way of exploring a bit more of me.... It's funny with some of the tunes. They'll reduce me to a total mess one day & then I'll hear them later & they won't affect me... so yeah, not sure what all's going on.

Anyhow. Tunes that have been making me cry lately:

1) Joni Mitchell's "Come in from the Cold" - lyrics are captured a number of posts below (back in Dec I think, maybe Nov). The song is a lament/breath of hope (seeing as how Joni's music & emotions are never fully one thing). It whispers to me of generations upon generations of men & women who have been longing to find Eden again, to move back to that place of relationship & we all end up have to walk through the games & unknowns & challenges of overcoming the death of relationship & communication that the original sin brought... it makes me weep & long for my own relationships (or longing for one), but also very much for the planet....

2) Skillet's "Better than Drugs" - see a few posts below for explanation

3) Jewel Kilcher - "Hands"

"If I could tell the world just one thing / It would be that we're all OK / And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful / And useless in times like these / I won't be made useless / I won't be idle with despair / I will gather myself around my faith / For light does the darkness most fear

My hands are small, I know / But they're not yours, they are my own / But they're not yours, they are my own / And I am never broken

Poverty stole your golden shoes / It didn't steal your laughter / And heartache came to visit me / But I knew it wasn't ever after / We'll fight, not out of spite / For someone must stand up for what's right / 'Cause where there's a man who has no voice / There ours shall go singing

My hands are small, I know / But they're not yours, they are my own / But they're not yours, they are my own / And I am never broken

In the end only kindness matters / I will get down on my knees, and I will pray / We are never broken / We are God's eyes / God's hands / God's mind / God's heart / We are God's hands"

If I'm hoping to be thought a connoisseur of great music, maybe admitting that I really enjoy Jewel's music is shooting myself in the foot, but yeah, I like it & at the end of the day my only claim to audio snobbery will be that I like what I like. Jewel's spirituality interests me & I'm never quite sure where she's coming from. She's a searching heart & someone who is actually honest (as much as any of us are I suppose)...

But I love the imagery in this song... the idea of each of our fragile feeble little hands, hands without that much strength to really change things in this cold world, but they're our hands, my hands - hands that cannot be owned or bought by anyone & we have the freedom to give love with these hands & yeah, I love the picture that we as humanity cannot be broken. The hands of individuals are greater than governments & any policy they can provide.... we look so often to the government to fix the social injustices around us, when the reality is that what is needed is our hands, our little unbroken hands, to simply love & give & serve - to extend even a cup of cold water.... it's the touch of love & relationship that really changes things in this world....

And I love the picture of singing for those without a voice. This spot, more than anything else in the song, reduces me to weeping. David Ruis has a similar idea in his Cry Mercy CD, but it's one that sticks with me. This is the true heart of intercession & is at the heart of every justice/mercy ministry. Those that have give to those who don't. We stand in the gap for people who are unable to defend & protect themselves & we advocate for them. We bang on the doors of heaven or city hall, we plead with God & man to set at liberty strangers that we choose to see as brother, sister, mother, father, friend... this is ultimately what Jesus did - gave us his life when we were squandering ours on self-destruction...

4) Skillet: "Looking for Angels" by John L. Cooper

"Going through this life looking for angels / People passing by looking for angels

Walk this world alone / Try to stay on my feet / Sometimes crawl, fall, / but I stand up / cause I'm afraid to sleep / Open my eyes to a new day, / with all new problems and all new pain / All the faces are filled with so much anger / Losing our dignity and hope from fear of danger / After all the wars, / after settling the scores, / at the break of dawn we will be deaf to the answers

There's so much bigotry, misunderstanding and fear / With eyes squinted and fists clinched we reach out for what is dear / We want it we want / We want a reason to live

We're on a pilgrimage / A crusade for hope / Cause in our hearts and minds and souls we know

We need it we need / We need more than this

[Chorus:] Going through this life looking for angels / People passing by looking for angels / Walking down the streets looking for angels / Everyone I meet looking for angels

So many nations with so many hungry people / So many homeless scrounging around for dirty needles / On the rise, teen suicide, when we will realize / we've been desensitized by the lies of the world / We're oppressed and impressed by the greedy / Whose hands squeeze the life out of the needy / When will we learn that wars, threats, and regrets are the cause and effect of living in fear

Who can help protect the innocence of our children / Stolen on the internet with images they can't forget / We want it we want / We want a reason to live / We represent a generation that wants to turn back a nation / To let love be our light and salvation / We need it we need / We need more than this

I became a savior to some kids I'll never meet / Sent a check in the mail to buy them something to eat / What will you do to make a difference, to make a change? / What will you do to help someone along the way? / Just a touch, a smile as you turn the other cheek / Pray for your enemies, humble yourself, love's staring back at me / In the midst of the most painful faces / Angels show up in the strangest of places / (Angels show up in the strangest of places)"

Again, this song highlights why I like Mr. Cooper's music & why I'll listen to Skillet when I'm avoiding most Contemporary Christian Music like the plague. Here's a guy who full on believes that his calling in life is to play rock & roll as a tool to reach kids who are hurting & tell them that there's hope... This dude figures he can change the world & while the bitter & jaded part of me wants to scoff at this, the rest of me prays to God that he's right & that he'll get his wish & bring a host of souls into light before his days ebb into the great black....

So much of this song opens me up again to the heartbeat of the world, to the brokenness that surrounds us. The part about "teen suicide" has been where the tears start to really flow & they don't stop. The part about representing a generation to turn a nation to light makes my blood burn with a fire of longing... (Neil Young's "Rocking in the Free World" is playing in the background now - another song that paints for me the bleakness of life around us & paints the desperate call to do something, to help prevent those 'thousand points of light' from going out & being extinguished & lost to the great dark & coming night)...

5) Calexico's "All Systems Red" by Joey Burns, John Convertino & JD Foster

"Felt a tremor stir beneath my breath / That forecasts storms on the gallup poll / Woke up from the nightmare news / Hoping to read a sign in the morning air

Nothing changes here and nothing improves / All say my friends who just want out / And leave these troubles behind / Scatter like paper in the eye of the storm / Documented with a silenced note / That's only heard from far, far away

More cards in play, following suit / Everywhere you look, you only see red / Wonder when to call off the race / Watching a horse running down its last legs / Just when you think it couldn't get much worse / Watch the numbers rise on the death toll / And the chimes of freedom flash and fade / Only heard from far, far away

I hear you can't trust in your own / Now the grey is broken in the early morn / And the words forming barely have a voice / It's just your heart that's breaking without choice

Everything you've learned is distorted in your head / Bouncing off the walls, unraveling the thread / Staying up with the blue screen glow / Forgetting everything you ever dreamed years ago

When the dread is flowing down my veins / I want to tear it all down and build it up again / Hear your heart that's breaking without choice / I want to hear those chimes ring again / Ring again"

Out of the collection of artists I've picked up after watching the "Before the Music Dies" Documentary, I'm really enjoying Calexico. I was expecting to love Doyle Bramhall's & Erykah Badu's music a lot more & sort of picked up Calexico's album as a, "well, might as well get this one, too". But I'm really, really enjoying the tunes these guys & gals are putting out.

I can't claim to understand this song. The lyrics are a bit beyond me... But listening to it makes me think of the US & just yeah... there is such an urgency & desperation in this song... the tears start flowing at around the "I hear you can't trust in your own" stage. It again paints a picture of the coming black & just the way we are driving our society to destruction. Living to appease the media, living in a world full of lies & lies about what our governments & individuals are really doing. We've built our houses on sand & the waves are starting to lick at the foundations & yeah, we long for things like freedom & hope & liberty, ideals which have become slogans for politicians, but have lost their true meaning... & yeah, I find my "heart breaking without choice" as I listen to this song...

6) David Gray tunes:

Please Forgive Me by David Gray

"Please forgive me / If I act alittle strange / For I know not what I do. / Feels like lightning running through my veins / Everytime I look at you / Everytime I look at you

Help me out here / All my words are falling short / And theres so much I want to say / Want to tell you just how good it feels / When you look at me that way / When you look at me that way

Throw a stone and watch the ripples flow / Moving out across the bay / Like a stone I fall into your eyes / Deep into some mystery / Deep into that mystery

I got half a mind to scream out loud / I got half a mind to die / So I wont ever have to lose you girl / Wont ever have to say goodbye / I wont ever have to lie / Wont ever have to say goodbye

Please forgive me / If I act alittle strange / For I know not what I do / Its like my head is filled with lightning girl / Everytime I look at you"

Babylon by David Gray

"Friday night / I'm going nowhere / All the lights are changing green to red / Turning over TV stations / Situations running through my head / Well looking back through time / You know it's clear that I've been blind / I've been a fool / To ever open up my heart / To all that jealousy, / that bitterness, / that ridicule

Saturday I'm running wild / And all the lights are changing red to green / Moving through the crowd I'm pushing / Chemicals all rushing through my bloodstream / Only wish that you were here / You know I'm seeing it so clear / I've been afraid / To tell you how I really feel / Admit to some of those bad mistakes I've made

If you want it / Come and get it / Crying out loud / The love that I was / Giving you was / Never in doubt / Let go your heart / Let go your head / And feel it now / Babylon, Babylon

Sunday all the lights of London Shining , / Sky is fading red to blue / I'm kicking through the / Autumn leaves / And wondering where it is you might be going to / Turning back for home / You know I'm feeling so alone / I can't believe / Climbing on the stair / I turn around to see you smiling there / In front of me

If you want it / Come and get it / Crying out loud / The love that I was / Giving you was / Never in doubt / Let go your heart / Let go your head / And feel it now / Babylon, Babylon"

David Gray wasn't on the Before the Music Dies video, but they talked about him somewhat. Dave Matthews spoke of begging David to sign with ATO records (Dave Matthew's indie music label) & so yeah, if Dave Matthews is begging a musician to join something, the dude must be good (that & Cheri had David Gray listed in her Myspace account & her tastes in music weigh about as much in my mind as Mr. Matthew's tastes )

These songs maybe haven't totally made me cry, but they entered my thoughts in a specific way. I woke up about a week ago with the "Please Forgive me" playing in my head (I seem to wake up each morning with my internal 'iPod' (there's got to be a metaphor in there somewhere) playing some tune - it seems psuedo random, but sometimes fits well with the day). It's a very pretty song & seemed to fit well with my thoughts for the day. While mulling this over, I chose to listen to the "White Ladder" album at work & it was then that the lyrics to "Babylon" started to seep in.

A while back I posted about watching the movie Babel & yeah, the thoughts around that have really bothered me. I've been afraid of my lack of communication abilities lately. And somewhere in there, this David Gray song speaks to me of just the truth that is seen in an open heart... & this gives me hope that maybe I'm not as sucky a communicator as I figure... or at least that Babylon can get torn down by hearts that choose to live in love & truth.... slowly peeling layer after layer off that onion or watching the rose blossom wider & wider....

Messenger & Message: Unleashing the Voice

2007-02-04T22:02:00.000-08:00

Went to church today, tired & wiped out from the long day yesterday & the later night of staying up late to process thoughts & feelings & to move from realizing that I wasn't all lonely & depressed & something was wrong me, but I was just tired.... had a harder time connecting with church/the order of service today. Likely it was the tiredness, maybe it was more... spent some time trying to sing, listening to comments on the sound quality of the band. We'd mixed in with another church today so there were a lot of 'strangers' around & it felt less homey & more like we were trying to show this other church that we were still a viable, vibrant spiritual entity instead of a collection of friends who somehow refuse to stop hanging out with each other... and who are somehow drawn by this experiment of finding community & living out love to the world around us.....

... I spent time reading in the end of Leviticus, wanting to find something about ritual, but instead hearing about blessings & curses, about the land keeping sabbath, about eating from the 'old stock' before you needed the new crops... cried at a David Crowder lyric of 'Majesty. Finally' - the "Finally" word made my heart ache in the middle of my tiredness, somehow hoping for the day when everything will be 'finally', where God will make things 'right' in His own sense & will wrap up history as we know it... mostly it was a longing for journey's end - or more for things to make sense... maybe it was just that this week was a helpful clarity week & I had my own 'finally' on some things I've been carrying & wrestling in my heart for a while & it's been nice to let my thoughts/heart rest & be at peace with life & who I am.... so for me, maybe I was carrying around my own sigh of 'finally' & the tears were just resonance to that....

We were asked to pray about something(?). The person at the front spoke something about seeing the spirit move & about how we needed iron to sharpen iron & stuff & then said we should pray into that & honestly, I thought I was listening to what he was saying, but didn't have a clue to what he was talking about. I thought about yelling to him to clarify, but hesitated 'cause it 'wasn't polite'... & then I found the others around me didn't know what we were doing either & so called out to the next guy who stepped up to the microphone who tried to explain it, but sounded like he maybe didn't know either.... so we prayed for the people around us....

... then had a sermon from Luke 11 about the neighbor who keeps banging on the door late at night, asking for bread & that the person who is in bed will get up & serve this neighbor, not out of love, but just 'cause he's being put out by the persistent neighbor who won't leave him alone. This somehow comes in the middle of a talk on prayer by Jesus & I sort of don't understand what part of God's heart this is suppossed to show. The speaker talked about how this shows that we need to be persistent & bold in our praying. I ended up half listening to it all & reading/skimming through most of Colossians. The phrase "Christ in you, the hope of glory" has been weighing with me as I think thoughts of our authority as individuals & Christians... I keep mulling over the idea that it is living with the reality of Jesus living His life in & through us that truly radicalizes our life... That it is less about trying to contort ourselves to be Christlike & instead realizing that Christ indwells & the Wellspring of all power & authority somehow takes up residence inside each of us & is just waiting to be unleashed.... Reading Colossians with this mindset seems to completely change the focus/meaning of the rest of the words in this letter of Paul...

and so at the end of the message, after I've closed my Bible at the end of Colossians, I hear this voice in the background proclaim "I am a visitor here & I have a message for the church from God".....

... and there is always the dual reaction when I hear this. Part of me wants to believe, wants to hope that God has brought some mystic prophet into our midst to explain everything, to make it make sense & give this great clarity for life. But the other part is skeptical. I've heard lots of people claiming to be God's voice & they've been speaking for their own benefit, trying to feel important, to feel heard. I've maybe done it once or twice, but sure hope it's been a minimum of times... Most times when God speaks He doesn't need to tell you it's Him speaking, you kind of already know 'cause of the way He talks to you & the way that it strikes to the very core of you....

...so this young guy steps to the front... white shirt, black puffy parka/jacket with a light brown fur rimmed hood, tight grey touque pulled just over his eyes, camouflage baggy pants, earphones hanging around his neck. He looked like some white rapper with angular European features. He spoke with an accent that I pegged as East European, but others said was French. He paced back & forth, part caged animal, part master showman. His diction & voice rose & fell as he made each point, emphasis in all the right places better than most of the televangelists I've heard....

...but the young guy spoke with power & conviction. He called the church to 'wake up'... he spoke of how he's part of a church that's been rejected by most in the city. He lives in the places where the homeless live, where prostitutes come to rest, where people are killed & burned alive. He talked of how he's asked God's heart for the city & 'seen' the streets of Calgary filled with blood. He spoke of how the place of the church is with the poor & needy & cried out to us to believe, to believe that God could heal, that God could set the prostitutes free who walked just outside our front door. He asked if we believed these things or just talked about it. He spoke of seeing hundreds of people healed, of seeing devils cast out in Jesus name. He talked of how he was once one enslaved, but is now free, a sinner saved by grace like all of us. He spoke the message to the church of Laodicea & talked about how the world needed the church while the church spent time in bed asking not to be woken or disturbed... He spoke of how the fear of the Lord is missing in the church. Spoke of how everything comes down to love, but that there is still this thing of the 'fear of the Lord that brings wisdom' that is needed in the church today...

In the end one of the gals asked to pray for him & so we gathered to pray over him & bless him & surround him with love. I prayed for a greater release of authority & power, prayed that this guy would be surrounded with community, prayed thanks for God sending a messenger & that the message would seep into each of us....

... and yeah, as the praying started to close, the young man, named David, headed off to go help load up speakers for street church.... and then the discussions began.

Most of us checked in with each other & asked what we thought. Most of us were trying to weigh it all out through discernment, to see if there was something 'wrong' with his words or whether this was a message to be received or not. Across the board everyone said there was no 'check', there was nothing that raised red flags that this guy was full of it... As I described to a friend, the guy may have been crazy, but he was at least Biblically crazy - nothing he said sounded anything different than anything written in the Bible...

The gal who asked to pray for him wanted to show David that he was loved & was likely 'preaching to the choir' & so he didn't need to be on the defensive...

..and then in the middle of our conversation, another guy walked up to talk with us, the same one who spoke of the outpouring of the spirit & iron sharpening iron & said some things like (& take this with a grain of salt, I'm a bit of a reactive person, so maybe I'm misquoting/misunderstanding) : "I didn't think we should be saying things like this guy is the 'messenger of God'....that stuff can go to someone's head. I mean, I think this message was from God, but maybe that's the only message from God he'll get & so he shouldn't be thinking that everything he says is from God." "I'd like him to come back & all - he sure can't expect to do that any time again, but it'd be good if he came again."

...and yeah, I nearly started swearing at him... they maybe caught it in the way my voice went up a number of notches as I strained to hold back the curse words... "With the whole messenger of God thing, maybe the problem is that we need to realize that all of us are God's messengers. We come here & sit in our (insert strained out curse words here) chairs & just listen & don't say anything & maybe if we all got up like that & really said what was going on, then we wouldn't need to worry about elevating someone to "messenger of God" status" - and yeah, that's a total misquote of what I said, but it's the best I can do... I remember the nearly swearing before chairs/pews, but yeah, the rest of that is what I was trying to get at..... maybe the actual quote held no weight 'cause it seemed to fall on deaf ears....

All morning I'd been weighing out a friend's dream & the interpretation of it & it seemed to align so much with the events of the day & the response of the people.... For some, David's words lit a fire in them & awakened boldness, repentance, longing, hope, love - the church as in the heartbeat of God dwelling in the hearts of men & women - was moved; we cried, we ached for this dream of living as the true church - full of love, full of power & miracles to bless the world, to help the poor, to free captives, to make blind eyes see & the lame walk.... the child within us that remembers the sunday school stories of walking on water, commanding storms to be stilled, healing lepers with a touch, this child awakened & remembered the truth of who we all were & are &, most of all, the truth of who He, Jesus, is....

....but at the same time, the 'crab bucket' effect happened... we were called to be silenced, to not hope, to not reach, to not proclaim that we'd heard God's message 'cause it didn't fit in the patterns of the church order, or didn't come from 'leadership'.... we didn't want to honor the messenger 'cause maybe we'd find this messenger was flesh & blood & fallible like all the rest of us....

and yeah, Colossian talks of this:

"Therefore as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him,having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude.

See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deception, according to the tradition of men, according to the elementary principles of the world, rather than according to Christ. For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form, and in Him you have been made complete, and He is the head over all rule and authority; and in Him )you were also circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, in the removal of the body of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ; having been buried with Him in baptism, in which you were also raised up with Him through faith in the working of God, who raised Him from the dead......

....If you have died with Christ to the elementary principles of the world, why, as if you were living in the world, do you submit yourself to decrees, such as, "Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch!" (which all refer to things destined to perish with use)--in accordance with the commandments and teachings of men? These are matters which have, to be sure, the appearance of wisdom in self-made religion and self-abasement and severe treatment of the body, but are of no value against fleshly indulgence. " (Colossians 2: 6-23 (skip a few in the middle)

The whole of chapter 2 (& the whole 4 chapter letter) is great & powerful. Read the whole thing. I

Rich Mullins' said this in his introduction to "The Color Green" on the "Pursuit of a Legacy" video:

"It started out with this guy who was yelling at this kid for running in the "house of God" , 'cause he was running through a church building. And I, uhm, thought that was funny because I think the Bible is fairly explicit about that 'earth is God's footstool and heaven is my throne, what kind of house can you build for me?" I think it's pretty explicit that the body of Christ is also the house of God, that we are the temple, that it has to do with people and not with buildings. I've often thought, you know, people worry with the catholic thing of revering Mary, uh, and I've often thought that maybe it's not that they revere Mary too much, maybe it's that all of us revere each other too little."

I don't know where the church lost it. Somewhere in the past we read words about all of us being 'kings & priests', about all of us having access to God, about being able to knock on his door at midnight or call him like we'd call up a friend. We used to believe that God would pick fishermen, tax collectors, zealots, prostitutes, murderers & would somehow redeem them & put His words in their hearts & the average, ordinary, everyday men & women could speak the truth & shake the foundations of the systems around us built on lies & the oppression of the poor & needy...

...but somewhere we traded this in for clergy & laity, for the concepts of an informed elite & a dumbed down & dumb (silent) majority of listeners who would look to the clergy as the 'messengers of God' & who would forget that they are all the living word, that the message of the risen Christ blazes inside their chests & waits to be unleashed in love & power on the world around....

... this past week I spent time at the community house for an encouragement night where we were to speak 'nice' things about each other. As I thought about the people around me, the common factor of what I really loved about each of them came down to two things 'heart' (as in the expression of their emotions/passion/dreams & drive) & 'voice' (as in the expression of their words, the expression of their core being as they live out who they really are)... and really the two are maybe the same... again, it's Mary & Martha... Mary being the heart stuff, the inward things, & Martha being the voice, the outward expression of an internal heart reality...

...and yeah, in this place I 'reverenced' each of the people in my own way (to relative levels of freakiness). In my heart of hearts, I sat there in awe of what each of them spoke... and again, these are very normal people, very real people, but.... wow... they are great people... people who have been 'seized by the power of a great affection'... people who live in love & who walk in the tension of being finite humans inhabited by an infinite God.... fragile frames of dust with an ever expanding heart & voice that is filled continually by the wellspring of the divine until they nearly explode.....

... and so as I look at this, I wonder why our voices seem so silent in the organized structure of church.... there must be an unleashing of each of us. We bear the shekinah flame, the cloven tongues of fire, the glory of God, the risen Christ dwelling in each of us... This heart, this voice, cannot be bound, or chained.... His heart's been loving, His voice has been speaking, since before time began....

...and as we join as friends we hear the edges of this heart/voice. We still feel awkward when anyone points out that we sound like Jesus.... and at 'church' (as in the official sunday thing), we sit quietly in the background waiting for permission to speak....

..this has got to change... in me & in all of us. In my grumpier days (a year or so ago) I thought that maybe the solution for my frustration with the church/life was that I just needed to yell at people more often.... maybe that's not quite so far off.... maybe it's not the yelling at people as much as it's just making my voice heard... God spoke through Balaam's donkey/ass... being the messenger isn't a great honor, God can speak through any ass & does all the time... but it's the message that has to be heard (though there is a great reality that the heart of the messenger is hard to separate from the message - Mary & Martha live as perpetual sisters in our minds eye, the tree & fruit go together)...

...and so maybe the first miracle coming is that the mute will speak... that the voice of the church (all of us too quiet, too polite 'laity') will be heard, that we'll start to live as Kings/Queens & priests.... & so God, loosen our tongues, unlock the words you long to say through us - spoken or through our actions.... unleash the voice....