Surrender (because its nice to be on God's side)

Subtlties Unknown

2010-09-26T22:37:00.001-07:00

I was told once that the human eye sees in black and white when the presence of light is absent. This has always struck me as odd, since humans cannot see in the dark. Although, perhaps during a bright moon there might be a balance between the level of light and the colors that are seen. That silvery hue that the world has, its possible that it can be attributed to that balance between the physics of nature and the biology of humanity.

Russell, however, was not aware that the human eye was not supposed to be able to see in the dark, I suppose someone forgot to tell him.

Quite some time had passed since Russell last ran. He lay on his quilted bed with the bedside lamp on. It was a dim bulb, and he could see the brightness of the stars shining through the window. He had just woken from a nightmare, or was it a dream. He could not tell, for the horror of it, though terrible, had left his blood boiling with the rush of adrenaline. That drug of hormone that thousands of years worth of warriors, soldiers, guards, knights and countless other men before him had felt flowthrough their veins and marveled at its power with a mixed emotion of fear and avarice.

The air was cooling again. Fall was approaching. Through the crack in his window he could smell the pine and hear the breeze begin to pick the leaves from the leisurely summer hammocks among the oak trees. Flashes of memory splashed across the tattered canvas of his mind peeled the scab off of his bleeding heart. He had not run since The Hurt began. That was what he called it when Elizabeth left his life. Those words summarized the past events neatly so that his pain could remain packaged nicely and be put on a metaphorical shelf in his life. He liked it that way, it was manageable when it was all in one place. He knew where it was and he walled off that part of his mind from the rest of his thoughts. Somehow he had naively held the notion that as long as he didn't think about it then he wouldn't hurt, he wouldn't get mad. Somehow he had deceived himself into believing the lie that he was fine. He knew that wasn't true. The man that was once strong, was now weak. Beaten. Defeated. His might stripped from him by God.

Yet, that wasn't entirely true. The nightmare he had awoken from was nagging at the corner of his mind. What was it about that horrible nightmare that he couldn't get away from? How in such an aura of fear could there be a dashing ray of hope?

Russell got out of his bed and walked through the house to the front porch. He walked outside and stood there in his shorts as the air washed around him the elements of darkness, for which there was no place on a periodic chart. Night was such a strange world to him, marvelous and yet never allowing one to rest at ease. He remembered vague bits of his last run.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Mitch! It broke my leg!"
"I gotcha Howie! I got'cha m'ane. You're gonna be alright brotha"
"Damn it Howie, aint nobody gonna be alright, that damn thing is running around out there still. As soon as we leave this fire we're dead. Ya hear me! Dead! If you try and run it'll get you too, just like it got me"
"What do we then? It's gonna come back if we sit here. Ah shit man! You hear that!"

A piercing howl tumbled through the night and swirled around the two convicts. There orange jumpsuits covered in blood, some there own, but most of it belonging to the two cops they had murdered on their transport bus. A small fire showed their faces. Howie was short and stocky with a face that looked as if it had been carved very poorly from a piece of cypress wood. His nose looked like it was permanently broken and his lips were narrow; covering a mouth of missing teeth. His eyes were two different colors, one green and one blue. His head was mostly bold with a filed of gray stubble encircling the crown as if in worship of the smooth crest atop his head. The darting slant in his eyes showed intelligence, maybe even brilliance, but the scars across his face belonged to a man of anger and dim wit.

Mitch was tall and broad shouldered. Handsome, he wore a sharp jawline well and looked every bit the model with his crew cut and scruffy face. He had a tattoo on his throat that read,"Tempus Fugit". Muscles were hidden beneath a score of scars across his back and chest received from some nameless and soulless demons on the red roads of the Congo. A hired mercenary he had fought for money and the hope that he would find a new weapon among the spoils.

The end of their lives will never be known and the revenge their victims craved would never be realized. But the justice that they deserved would see that their guilt found them that night. It was messy.
----------------------------------------------------------

Russell was on his front porch, but his mind thought of that night. There had been a lot of blood. He had heard somewhere that you can drink a pint of blood before you get sick. Stranger he though, "I wonder what fool tested that. He wasn't even right. Its much less than that. Although, he could have been a cannibal and that would explain it." His thoughts grew less dark as he thought of running again. A smile spread across his face. The moon passed from behind the clouds and the breeze of fall sent a fresh sent of game across Russell's nose. The boy, no the beast inside of him would soon want to play. And this, not controlling his thoughts, would be the antidote to his heart's poison. The guilt he carried would pass away with each run. No longer would he walk in shame, now he would run with zeal! "Yes, very soon" he thought, " I will see if the dark is still as inviting to its Shepherd as I remember."

I was told once that the human eye sees in black and white when the presence of light is absent.
Russell, however, was not aware that the human eye was not supposed to be able to see in the dark, I suppose someone forgot to tell him.

Thank You Jesus For Loving Me Well.

2010-09-21T18:14:00.001-07:00

It seems to me that I fail so very much and very powerfully. I won't go into detail, but I recently have found myself guilty of what many Christians have come to know as "big" sins. In the light of these transgressions, I find myself wondering if Jesus has yet to be frustrated with me? Is He disappointed? I ask these questions of myself more often than the flower ask the sun for life.

It is in a very mysterious way that I am given an answer.

It is not an answer that was whispered in my ear. Nor is it an answer that I can explain back to you. It is an answer that finds its power in nothing but God.

This is my answer: Though you are immature, you are mine. Though you fail, I love you still. Though you see dimly, I lead you. I am not disappointed because you did not achieve victory, I am hurt to see you drift from my voice. You belong with me, your identity lies with me. I am your anchor.

Salvation from Cheap Faith

2010-07-23T14:27:00.000-07:00

This is my heart and this post is based on observation. There are fallacies in this post, I know. I ask you to focus on the truth though and not use the holes as excuses to refute the implications of the truth within.

It seems that the majority of churches in Southern America are full of Christians whose faith exist in cheap words that are gained through repetition rather than experience. I know this because I grew up as one of these souls, but the Lord has seen fit to place me on the path to sincerity, although I confess I do reach for the old and it is by His grace that I am of any benefit to the kingdom.

I speak of those who say words like "Have faith in God" or "God is good", without having ever experienced the situations that produce such words. It is almost as if it is a lie, because they are saying these words that belong to someone else; maybe a grandparent who lived in the depression or a missionary who stayed at their best friend's house one year. They repeat the genuine words of those who have quenched the flames of the fire and walked through the forsaken dark and by doing so tarnish the authority behind such words.

These fellow souls say these cheap words because they have never really seen the goodness of God and have never really had to have faith in God. Its not as though they do not believe but rather their belief is a shallow impression of those before them. Perhaps the situation is even worse than perceived and may be likened to the illustration of a pure bloodline of horse being watered down and yet still laying claim to the pure heritage of its ancestors. It has the appearance but lacks the substance.

It seems to be this way: Their words are empty because their faith has never been tested. They are ignorant of God's character. They are religious. It is that religion that I have come to detest, that which is cheap, commercialized, watered down, and used as a facade is the very thing that Jesus came to destroy.

We just say words. So many words. Im tired of words. Words. Like so many bags of burden placed on my life they hinder me and keep me from doing. Yet, the irony is in my talent. Words. They are cluttering my mind and preventing me from seeing the Cross.

I surrendered to the mission field last night. It was not something I was happy about. Anything but the mission field Lord. Nonetheless, I go because I love the Gospel, more specifically, this man named Jesus. The Gospel has lead me here and by God's grace I was able to surrender to this responsibility.

The words of the post come from the missionary in me. I want to put this faith to the test. I've seen this: Out of pain comes knowledge of God which leads to worship which leads to peace. This is what I crave, the peace of God which is obtained through the worship of His image. I pant for it as the deer pants for the water. I thirst to worship my Creator in Spirit and Truth.

Not noisy songs of many words. Not with cheap faith. And certainly not with an arrogant and hard heart.

I am thankful that Christ would give me this responsibility. This is a gift. My faith will not be cheap or watered down but full of the power of God due to His grace and great love. I am glad I will experience His might in a rare way. I am not worthy. I am humbled but not nearly humbled enough.

I love you. Brothers and Sisters, as well as those not yet entered into the Family.

Pay Attention, Be Careful, Don't Slack Up.

2010-06-13T12:22:00.000-07:00

My fear is this: That we have become accustomed to God and that we do not love him as though he is real and near.

I see many Christians, of who I am the foremost inthis matter, conduct theirselves as if God were a blind dumb God who is far away and will not hear or take notice of the things you are doing, or rather more accurately not doing. Does it seem to you that we have become silly about the things of God? That we have become a people of many words and our hearts are closer to US, than they are to God!? Do we conduct ourselves as if God were real, and his promises were real, and this faith is NOT A GAME to be played but a death to die???!!! Do we take HIM seriously? Do we take our SIN seriously? Do we understand that He HURTS when we sin? Do we take HIS promises seriously? Or are we casually pursuing Christ? Are we Christians in the line of Peter, who was crucified upside down, or of John who was, according to tradition, boiled alive and still did not recant and then was exiled to patmos? Are we Christians that would rather go hard and take the beautiful covenant relationship, this marriage with God, seriously? Or are we Christians that would like to go home and let God be the homeboy on our shirt and Swedish man on our wall?

I am very worried that we would continue to take the name of Christian and do nothing about this horrible horrible insult to God. In Isaiah 1, God responds to Israel and I am afraid that this is the response that He would give us:

Who asked you to bring all of those animals
when you come to worship me?
Who asked you and your animals
to walk all over my courtyards?
Stop bringing offerings that do not mean anything to me!
I hate your incense.
I can't stand your evil gatherings.
I can't stand the way you celebrate your New Moon Feasts,
Sabbath days and special services.
I hate your New Moon Feasts
and your other appointed feasts.
They have become a heavy load to me.
I am tired of carrying it.

My heart breaks at what i have done. I constantly choose the creation over the creator. The things that are morally gray and are not intrinsically evil have become my abyss for all my time and money and efforts. I have been throwing myself on creation hoping to find satisfaction in something, anything, other than God.

Why?!

Have we grown bored with God? Or are we like a feral child that has not been socialized and we have no idea how to interact, or even relate to God?

I have not found just one single answer that applies to all. However I do know that Jesus, who is the visible image of the invisible God, gave us through his life and death, the Gospel. And it is the Gospel that must continue to motivate us. I cannot believe I thought so little of the Gospel. It is the Gospel that motivates Christians, it is our hope. Without the Gospel we are to be pitied above all men. It is not just for the lost, but it is especially for the Saved!

If you want to know what God is like, if you want to know what God's nature and character is, if you want to know what He feels for you, look at Jesus. Study His life and Fall In Love with The Gospel.

For He made Him who knew no sin, to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God. So that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us. And it is not for unrighteous acts we have been saved, but for the ministry of reconciliation.

Understand who God is. Understand what you were. Understand who Jesus is. Understand what you are. Understand the Gospel.

Finals Day 2.7

2010-05-11T11:45:00.001-07:00

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh WHAM! ooogruuuh. Dang it boy. That hurt, that was alot higher than I thought. Oh...well hello there. Uh...hi, have I seen you before? Eh. Doesn't matter. People stop through here all the time. They generally only stop once though. Hmm, still haven't figured out why, hmmm.

Hey! You uh...you didnt see that did you? Eh? Ah, nevermind. Not much of a talker are you? Yeah, well they never are. I guess you want a story too, well, sit down, get comfy, and I'll go see if the boss has got one ready, you okay with leftovers? That may be all we have. Anyway, I'll be right back.

Pssst. Hey. Pssst. Hey, over here. Quick before he comes back. You gotta know, this place is under new managment, the stories, they aint the same anymore. The boss...he aint the same anymore. Cracked I say he is. Just dont be surprised if you have no idea whats going on. The boss says he wants to try to do something to make people laugh, says he's done with the thinking market. Oh...shoot! Gotta go. See ya. Remember, its better if you dont rethink the thinking behind these thoughts.

Well, you're in luck stranger. I've got a real live story for ya, yes sir this one is fresh, just written. Still haven't figured out why you folks like to let others invade your privacy, but I suppose thats why I'm just imaginary. Welp, here you go, enjoy!

"We have birds. They live in the vent on the outside of our building. Their purple poop stains our glass. Our neighbors probably think we're die-hard Tiger fans and feed the birds purple easter egg pellets. And Im not saying we dont.

Its a married couple. Which is pretty impressive when you consider the size of the vent is about half the size of a converse shoe box. I wonder how long they have been married. They sure do argue alot. Oh would you lookie there, they just came home. Man. She is really ticked off at something.

Oh dear...Oh my. I just thought of something. What if they're living together and they're not married. Thats it. She is pissed off because he won't ask her to marry him. Oh, come on man. Feather up and ask her. She doesnt care that you have a fluffy chest, just get over your insecurities and do it.

You say you're worried about providing for a family? I thought God had you covered on that one. I mean isn't that in the bible? Oh, thats just for sparrows? Hmm, didn't know that. Wait. You cant even read, how do you know that? K-Love? Well, there's the problem right there. Hang on! Why am I having a conversation with a make believe bird? Geez...I'm losing it.

I hope they get everything worked out. If I spoke magpie I might try to counsel them. Although, they seem to be making things work. I wonder what will become of them when migration season gets here? I hope they stay together. A little bird needs its daddy.

Here's to you bird family. Keep on with yo ol bad purple window poopin self.

The Plea of Timothy McConroy Part 2

2010-04-24T11:02:00.000-07:00

I am a hypocrite. You are said all fail.

I am a liar. You said that you are the Truth.
I am heartless. You said you possess my heart.
I have no pulse. You said that you are my lifeblood.
I will do things just to see you cry. You said that you will comfort me
I will break you to see you bleed. You said that you will take it.

If you love me i will ruin your name. You said that if i love you, you will give me a new name...

I will hate you. You said you will love me.
I will go out of my to get rid of your friends. You said that you are a friend to all.
I will not help you up. You said you will carry me.
I will leave you. You said you will be with me always.
I will jerk you around. You said you will guide me.
I will curse you. You said you will bless me.

If you love me i will give you hell. You said if i love you, you will save me from Hell...

My road is evil. You said you will show me the way.
My light is dim. You said it doesn't have to be.
I am among the murders and evildoers of the night. You said that you i am your child.
Stay away from me i am covered by the Dark...You touched me

If you love me it will kill you...

You looked at me, with a gaze of immortal love and whispered...

..."I know"

Subtlties Unknown

2010-04-21T17:31:00.001-07:00

The heart is wounded and it is healing, but until it is healed it cannot be fully given away. It is written to whom it must be given, that cannot be changed.

"I lie awake in the cool of the night and think about what to do. I watch the fan blade whirl around in the moonlight. I think about what i should have done. I think about how I could have been a better man."

Russell looked out the kitchen window as he spoke to the girl who stood in the door. She was about seventeen, with piercing blue eyes.

"And those are the good nights. Sometimes, and I dont know if this is part of the curse or if this is just a broken heart's poetry, sometimes I see her. Your mom. She holds me and tells me that it will all be alright, that the pain will go away soon. She wipes away my tears and tells me to stand up..."

Russell had tears rolling down his rugged face. His tired eyes emptied their captives onto the faded carpet. "She tells me to stand up and lead the way. Gah, it hurts so bad Jane, when i have to watch her go, wh-when I wake. I remember her smell, and sometimes I'll find a hair, on my jacket, its days lieke those when it hurts. When the nightfall cant come soon enough."

"I have never lived with regret. Not until now. But for all my strength and for all this great wild heart beated for, I was unable to go against the will of God. My great, loving father, I can only worship Him. He took from me the love my life, Elizabeth, it was always her, but God is good, and He is enough. Jane He is always enough."

Jane had silent tears fall down her face, like her mother she wouldn't cry. She refused to let it out, because just like her momma she was a "big girl". Jane took her coat from the rack and walked out the door.

Russell watched his daughter walk down the path to the little house across the valley. He barely knew her, "I'll be damned Elizabeth. I would have been with you forever if I had the choice. There was never a choice. Never."

Russell's big black dog was the only one who heard him whisper the words as he walked into the young night...

...I'll love you forever

2010-04-17T10:49:00.001-07:00

Man, I dont think I will ever see the day where I live on the mountain. The proverbial mountian is the place where Christians dwell in the rapturous joy of Christ. This is the cream on the top of the milk.

Read the Psalms. See David's life and notice the darkness and the light, highs and lows. Its in Song of Solomon, the lover desperately wants to find her beloved but cannot. She is in the dark night of the soul.

Its normal. And its not going anywhere.

I just don't like not being able to find God. Scriptures are dry, prayers hit the ceiling, heart is void of passion.

It won't last long though. I will find God, or rather He will reveal himself to me

Today

2010-04-13T09:07:00.000-07:00

I have noticed this: When we are compelled to do something, say anything, or affect the outside world in anyway, then it is meant for that moment. I am reminded of that verse in Isaiah and later Hebrews, that says today if you hear his voice do not harden your heart.

I resolve to no longer be a man of passive faith. Of what value is a faith if it is passive? It is a dead faith if it is. The word is active and living, sharper than any double edged sword, able to apply to all people in all situations, not because of the language used but because of the work of Holy Spirit. God is not dead, He is calling for the lost and waiting for the prodigal.

The personal orders from a living God are just as time sensitive as those from your parents. Take out the trash means now, not later, because later it will be overflowing. Carry out the living orders from a living God so that we may partake in the life offered by Christ for our time here on earth. Relationship with such a God is maintained by Christ's power manifested in our lives and expressed through devotion to the basics.

Basics=Spending time with God.

Practical application- Read the Word. Pray. Pray Pray. Worship while you pray. Meditate on Jesus. Worship. Read the Word. Talk about it with other Christians. Read the Word. Pray Pray Pray. Worship.

Repeat Love.

Change In My Pocket and My Heart

2010-03-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

Here's the thought I literally woke up with: Sin is a heart issue. Our desires will eventually get what they want if all we try to do is stop them. Out of the heart comes desires.Change the heart, change the desire, defeat sin. How is our heart changed? We are transformed from glory to glory by beholding the image of Christ.

If we want to learn about the nature and charaacter of God we look to His son who is the image of the Invisible God.

Yeah. Simple. why yes I believe so...

I go to read. Good day

Sin Crept Through the Door

2010-03-22T09:08:00.001-07:00

"If my salvation is based on what I have done, and if judgment weighs all the right choices against the wrong ones, then I will fall. I will take my place among the damned and I will wail with them. I did not set an example in decision making or conduct, there I failed. Although I hope there might be some who say that I set an example of confession and repentance, for I have laid my heart bare, hidden no evil, at least from those closest to me. Here I am, guilty. I am here, guilty.

Within my chest beats a heart of stone. It is cold and unresponsive to the infection of sin in my flesh. My soul is in the dark night. I have indulged and spent my inheritance and come home to find the house empty and the fattened calf gone. Where is my Lord? Where is my destruction? Lord, I long for you to love me so much that you would crush me, and rebuild me. Purge me of these desires. Do what you will, but please do not let me lie here naked and exposed before the jury, who each have chosen their stone. Here I am, guilty. I am here, guilty.

If you would touch me with your cloak I think i might could walk, but as it is i cannot even crawl towards you. The morning after sin is as a flower in early spring, it comes forth with a timid humility, its tiny heart hopes that the world outside will treat it kindly and that the Sun will Shine its light down on it in favor.

Lord may this day be like a spring flower and you shine your pure holy light into my heart of stone. Come and be with the one who loves you.

Come and I will praise you all the while, my sweet, sweet Savior."

Subtlties Unknown

2009-12-03T08:33:00.001-08:00

Cold air. Sunshine. Leaves blowing across the parking lot. Russell should have been happy, at the very least content. That was not the case, Russell was down right depressed. Dejected and fed up with pursuing a degree that he didn't want anyway. He knew, and I mean knew, five things: 1) He loved every aspect of nature 2) He loved God 3) He loved helping people 4) He loved his family 5) He loved working with his hands. There was nothing any of these that beckoned Russell to school. He hated it. It confined him. It caged him. It was society's way of collecting their due, their way of manipulating his talents to benefit someone in a suit who had never even smelt fresh broken earth or a stack of oak firewood being split. He was getting plum angry.

"Better calm down", thought Russell. "I'm burnout. Done. Im just going to take a semester off. Nah, I won't. But I gotta. I am. That's what i'm going to do. Take a semester off, do some traveling, get a job at some ranch or outfitter. Maybe do a little guide fishing. I like it."

A squirrel ran up a tree and back down again.

The Fight

2009-11-23T00:23:00.000-08:00

The man was big. Just huge. The streetlamps gave the wet pavement of the parking lot an orange hue. Russell walked evenly towards the big man. Not hurried and not scared. The pulse beat hot down his arms and warmed his hard fist. His breathing was strong and deep. His eyes. Damned was the man on who those wrathful eyes gazed. There was nothing now. Only the rage in his chest, urging him on, coursing through his veins burning his the hard muscles on his wiry frame.

Russell was close now. Somewhere a drum began to beat. He could see the massive man breathing. The light behind him prevented Russell from seeing his face. Steam from the man's mouth rolled out like a bull in the fall's twilight. He was a black figure. A silhouette. A target. A threat to be eleminated and a criminal to be punished.

Russell began to jog. He was running. Then he was there. The big man fell backwards as Russell hurled his body into him. The drums were pounding louder now. The big man wasn't as quick as Russell and Russell hit him three times before he could get on is feet. Russell didn't stop. Why would he? The big man bullrushed Russell and grabbed a frim grip on his neck and torso. Russell felt himself being lifted through the air. The tight hands seared his flesh. And then there was only the drums. A crack announced the arrival of the pavement on Russell's back and head. He was hurt. Bad.

***
He was going to surprise her. Her favorite flowers were gerber daisies. Russell walked down the sidewalk to Elizabeth's house with a impish grin spread across his face. He loved that woman. A man's laugh mingled with that of a woman's floated through the air and it made Russell grin wider still. There was something odd about this laugh though. His face screwed in concentration. Another chorous came across the autumn air and his blood ran hot. His thoughts raced as his feet found the way to Elizabeth's mailbox.

She kissed him. More than once. But the quietus to their love was when he put his hand on the small of her back. They walked down the sidewalk and with it, all that was human and Christian about Russell.

***

The anger, no the rage of the beast in his chest growled at Russell. "Get up. Bring him low."
"Im spent."
"No you're not. Not yet. I haven't let you go."
"I dont think I can."
"Well then I will do it for you."

The drums beat louder than before. The big man's footsteps drew near and then stopped. The boot lifted Russell off the ground as it kicked him. Then Russell let go. There was no decision, just an understanding of what must happen. The big man was zealous with his opponents recent display of weakness. Then he saw Russell's face. All that can be said of it was that the expression and zest in his eyes unsettled him. The big man thought " My, God he's enjoying this"

Close. Russell wasnt enjoying. But he was about to.

Russell gave a howl and the drums beat louder. He heard the bones crunch and he saw the crimson flow of life fall out of the mans face. The power of the rage sang like the song of Achilles. Then it was done. The threat had been eliminated.

The big man lay on the wet asphalt beneath the orange streetlamp. Russell walked off of the sidewalk and stepped into the woods.

The drumbeats quieted and somewhere someone laughed gaily.

Subtlties Unknown

2009-09-21T19:12:00.000-07:00

A nightingale perched in a lone live oak in a pasture watched passively the scene before him. Somewhere an owl inquired the darkness. Two hearts beat in the middle of the pasture, and two hands held each other in the middle of the night.

"Its not like what you might think. Not like what you see on television. I mean, pretty much, you could forget everything that you ever heard, read or watched concerning it all." Russell's voice was clear in the night. Not like most voices that speak in the silence, startling and foreign.

"But there is truth to it?" Elizabteh asked as she lay on the green grass with her head resting on Russell's shoulder. Russell considered his answer and gazed towards the shimmering night sky. Perhaps those ancient watchmen of the night could offer counsel. Should he offer up to emily the greatest piece of himself? Should he reserve this part of his being? Moments passed as the two lay together on the cool grass, until Elizabeth's curious and naive voice pricked his heart with her question, "Russell? Is it true?" His crystalline eyes reflected the silver light of the stars and then he knew; she was his to protect, to care for, it was instant attachment. How characteristic of his kind he thought. Name it what you may, but it was love in its most honest and transparent form. His great heart, capable of such emotion, such passion surrendered itself to the alluring promise her presence held. And then without so much as a pause for breath russell gave up his secret.

"Yeah its true. I'll show you. Dont be afraid."

Russell shrugged off his shirt. His breaths were drawn deep from in his chest. A low rumble came forth from his being. And then he was different. He was wild.

A nightingale perched in a lone live oak in a pasture watched passively the scene before him. Somewhere an owl inquired the darkness.

Dear Norman,

2009-09-16T21:44:00.000-07:00

The circumstances of your situation seem important, they seem like they are worthy of your attention. The hurt, the pain, the burden, it all beckons you to give heed to its wail. The grades, the allure of success, the promise of achievement, the false fulfillment of knowledge, all paint a picture that demands your attention to its vanity. The foreign mission field, church, fellowship, bible studies, catchy worship songs, these too sing the sweet song of attraction, if only to itself.

But beloved, let us please not forget the most excellent way. Let us not forget He who is love. Let us not forget love, let us not forget Him.

He is our King, most noble prince of Light, He commands the angels and enchants the child's heart. A master worthy of the most beautiful of all songs.

Here sits enthroned in Heaven the one who is jealous for our love. The King, jealous for our love, the love of a wretched creature who has been made holy and righteous only by the shedding of His own blood.

So come, let us forget ourselves in the worship of the King. Let us carry out His commands with a zealous heart. For He is sovereign, He is good, He is love, and His way is perfect.

Let us resolve to know nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf that we might become the righteousness of God, in Him. Let us trust in the Lord with all our heart, And lean not on our own understanding; But in all our ways acknowledge Him. Do this and He shall direct our paths.

There is nothing. There is no one. Only Christ, here, now, in this moment, all that matters is that your fame is proclaimed. We know nothing else. Only you.

Only you...

Sleeping next to Jesus

2009-09-12T11:07:00.000-07:00

Waiting...

*cue shudder*

Why is waiting so hard? We carry a burden. God tells us to hold on, and we do. That is until we face the next battle and then we fall to pieces, like a 13 year old girl watching the Notebook. Why is holding on so hard?

Why do we freak out? Why do we worry? Why do we hurt?

Sometimes the place you need to be is the place you dont wanna be. All that hurt, all that waiting, well...honestly its prolly not as bad as we make it out to be.

No, most of the anxiety that comes out of those situations is manufactured by ourselves. We forget the promises and we take our eyes away from the prize. We listen to Satan, we think those thoughts and imagine those fears. When in the reality God told us to wait, and endure, to chill out, not to get caught up in asking why, or trying to figure out how to get out of the hole your in.

Ooo, lets stay here. That was good. Let's just stop trying to get out of the hole. Who do you think put you there? How do you think you'll get out? yep...coming clear yet?

We've got the wrong perspective, its not a punishment, it not a "test" or a "trial". Its a vacation. Think about it, God told you to wait, "Hey norm, just sit tight. Sit down here in my Word and rest. I like to take naps in storms, they're the best. We've got alot to do when we come out of this, so take this opportunity to rest. KNight"

At first it excites us. We have direction, we know what we're supposed to do. Wait. Cool. Then the doubts come. Jesus is asleep and we can't hear His voice. Oh darn. But we aren't listening that good, because if we really were resting like we were supposed to be, we would hear something more comforting than we have ever heard before. The sound of Jesus sleeping. Of Him exhaling and inhaling. Maybe a snore or two. That sound that tells us everything IS alright, not that its going to be or it will on day, but that right now it is more than okay. Jesus is sleeping.

Man, how can you not worship?

Stay in the Word. Stay in Prayer. Stay in Fellowship. Remember your joy, for you were once dead but now Christ has brought you to life. You are on a fullpaid sleeping vacation with Jesus. Just listen to the heartbeat of Christ, listen to the rhythm of His breathing.

and now take a deep breath...and exhale. :)

Profile of a Fighter

2009-09-10T17:53:00.001-07:00

Please be aware that this is not a feel good post. In fact I originally wrote this on facebook, but took it down due to its dark nature. This is honesty, and its not pretty. Proceed at you're own risk.
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What do you do when you're in hell? When your the one whose lost?

When all the lessons you taught and all the advice you gave, and all the scripture you recited doesnt work for you?

You, who were once strong and mighty in the Lord, what do you do when you fall?

You have a burden, and it weighs on you, oh it is so heavy. You continue this walk of faith, you perservere, you worship the Lord. You give it your all, and then after a time you grow weary and you lose heart.

But...

You keep walking, you keep going. You begin to see the weight take its toll, the advice you gave that was once the Lord's now comes form your own lips and you see yourself begin to drift from the voice of God. The weight crushes from you the clarity of the Lord's voice. You strain to hear. And then when you worship it is like you breathe, for in that room where the Lord sits that weight has no power. You can rest in Him and Jesus comes through the door and straddles the burden squarely on His shoulders and looks at you with those sad loving eyes and says "I'll carry it for you my son. Come now, the test will not last long. Let us run for a while."

Yet still, it sits, in your mind on a stool, with its arms crossed waiting for you to finish worhsipping, so that it might once again rest itself on your heart.

In spite of it all though you keep walking. But just as the marathoner begins to stumble when the disease of exhaustion takes it portion, you too begin to stumble. Its not much at first. Your words falter, your logic becomes your own. But then it gets much worse, you see yourself deteriorate, and realize you will not allow your stumbling feet to tangle those around you, so you cease to speak. You deny wisdom to those seeking direction because you know that the words you say are not the annointed words of the Lord but rather your own. So you concede to serve in the only way you still can. You use your hands, the hands that have been spared from fatigue and can still find the Lord's purpose. A silent servant you have become.

You are burned down, stripped into nothing. Humility is your constant companion. You dare not place hope in yourself. And you earnestly begin to pray, as the trying wear of it all intesifies, that the Lord would deliver you. You listen and wonder if the silence you hear is because the Lord wants you learn a lesson that you keep missing. The weight now presses down, no harder than before, but your strength has long abandoned you, and you can see very soon where you will be forced to crawl.

And then you become angry. In the blindness of fatigue you rage. You allow the fury to renew your limbs and the heat it brings to be your strength. You burn against the ones you love, you blast them with words you dont mean, words that are your price for embracing the strength the fury offered.

You are here now, you have shrugged your anger for now, but know that it will once again tempt you wth its promise of superficial strength. Uncertainty in your decisions is the order of the day. You hear a spiritual conversation but you have banished yourself from such talk, for you know that foolish will only spring from your lips. Indeed, the only sancutuary you find rest is in worship. However, just as the soldier cannot stay in R&R forever you too must leave the sweet air of worship behind. Although you return your thoughts there whenever you can, more often than you ever have before in your life. There's so much you do now that you did not do before. Prayer, worship, humility. You have learned these, yet the burden remains. It is your constant companion, neither antagonsitic nor benevolent, just always present. Everythign you do, everyway you serve, every moment you breathe, every thought, is done under the shadow of the burden.

You once talked about being broken, you thought you knew something of it. You laugh now as you think of how foolish and immature you were and laugh more still as you see how foolish and immature you are still.

Your friends try to strengthen you with words, telling you to do this and do that. You become irritated, for you used to recite the same verses, but then remember you once did the same to the hurting around you. You now realize that the Jews were on to something when they visited a friend who had experienced death. They did not come in with comforting words, but rather sat silently and endured with the afflicted.

The hope you have is in your assurance that it will, one day, come to an end, the Lord will deliver you, even as your hope dims He is sharpening His sword.

Oh yes, you know that one day deliverance will come, for it was the Lord who gave you this burden. Or was it a gift, twisted and perverted by your own sin and now you wear its burdensome glory about your neck. Yes, it was a gift, that you tortured with sin until its purity became black. Although, through the right perspective a gift it remains. For the Lord is the author and perfecter of your faith. It was the Lord who brought you here, and it is the Lord who will deliver you.

So you wait, and worship, because you can do nothing else. Nothing else.This is preparation, this is training, this is where you are hardened, stripped away from the feel good lessons you learned in church and where you learn the way of the apostle, where you become a fool for Christ's sake.

Escape

2009-09-10T07:33:00.000-07:00

Peace. Its creeps in and makes its home in us without us ever knowing. That is until we suddenly realize all fear is gone. And Philippians tells us

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

But what do you do when you pray and wait and the peace doesn't come? Its promised. Right there we just read it. So whats the deal. Well its certainly not God's fault. So what's going on here?

Maybe we haven't waited long enough. Maybe the peace is on its way, and it just hasn't gotten here yet. OR maybe God is tempering you for something in the future that will demand much greater steadfastness and patience than your current circumstances.

But I think that in my case right now, it is simply God breaking me down. Forcing me to be a pathetic lump of clay that is devoid of all pride and self reliance. Yes, that is what God is doing, He is breaking me down. And dang it it sucks.

I have always said that I can endure anything if God would grant me the peace, if He would let me know i was in His will.

But in the absence of such peace, maybe God is trying to tell me, that my circumstances do not call for as much peace as others do, and that a little goes a long way. Maybe for so long I have been used to getting fat off of God, and now He is hardening my softness, making me strong for His purpose.

I do not know. I cannot figure it out.

My advice to you, and myself is this: Submit, Humble yourself and resign yourself to simply worship.

Mute Christians are only Good People.

2009-09-09T17:34:00.000-07:00

Christians are just good people if they never speak of Jesus. Evangelism is not evangelism if words are never spoken. Christians cannot limit themselves to acts of kindness and love. Picture a sword, at the tip of the sword is the mouth, the handle of the sword, which supports the tip, represents actions. Our actions should never be our primary means of reaching the lost. Romans 10:9-15 illustrates the importance of the mouth and of confession. This importance does not cease with salvation, but rather it increases.

Our actions give weight to our words. And its true that if we have no good deeds then why should our words mean anything. But throughout the book of acts, which is basically all about some evangelism (and the rest of scripture) (Acts 15:35, Acts 16:17, Acts 17:3) we see that it is the mouth, not the deeds, that are the means of spreading the Gospel.

And a rather different way of thinking about it that the way of Christ is definitely the more difficult path for life. With that in mind, ask yourself which is harder, to contain the gospel within yourself and try to keep yourself holy, and improve yourself, OR to proclaim that gospel and reveal to others the perfect truth of our Lord; to show them that Christ has come to give them life abundantly?

Of course its easier to be self contained and never reach out, and to use that old excuse "I witness with my actions". We must be a vocal church, a church that does not preach of the necessity of salvation but rather proclaims the love of a savior, a church who proclaims the deeds of Christ. That will be enough, for us to express our joy in Christ, to tell of what He has done. Let us follow Peter's example in Acts 2:14-36.

Or perhaps your muteness is a product of your forgetfulness. For we were once lost, we were once blind, we were once dead, we were once enslaved. We should follow the example of the lame man in John 5:15 who went away proclaiming what Jesus had done for him. We should follow the example of Bartimaeus in Mark 11, who immediately began following Jesus upon the receiving of his sight. And lastly we should follow the example of the man possessed (Luke 8:39) . Who for so long was as good as dead, enslaved, just as we were before Jesus rescued us.

If we realize what Jesus has done for us, how close we were to death, then our joy wont allow us to remain silent. It is those rescued from oppression and darkness who proclaim the Gospel unburdened, free from duty, they tell of their salvation because it pleases them.

And remember this: The Gospel does not need your help. It is not some product you are trying to sell. It is truth. All we are required to do is speak it and live it. We do not have to "convince" people to take a gander. The less of your own words you speak the better. For there is nothing we can say or do to improve on what has been said and done and written down in the Gospel.

The Spiritual State of Sophmore

2009-09-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

How far I am from the man I long to be. I look at Christ and I look my myself, I am so so far from looking anything remotely like Him. Paul says in Philippians that it is a sign of maturity to realize how far you have to go. Man, I do not feel like that.

I just want more. I want it all. As much as my frail mortal mind and body can take. I want God.

The beauty of such desire is that unlike other desires this desire is fully capable of being realized.

"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded"-James 4:8

My soul has been made thirsty.

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.^"

Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,

which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.

It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is hidden from its heat.

The law of the LORD is perfect,
reviving the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.

The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.

The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The ordinances of the LORD are sure
and altogether righteous.

They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the comb.

By them is your servant warned;
in keeping them there is great reward.

Who can discern his errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.

Keep your servant also from willful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then will I be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

-Psalm 19

I want my heart to be able to sing this. I want to look like this. I have such a long way to go, but there is so much in my favor.

What do you look like? What do you want to look like? What are you going to have to do to get there?

Subtlties Unknown

2009-09-07T16:54:00.000-07:00

The day was beautiful. The sun would be shining soon. The leaves wore their colors proudly, and the air was crisp with the promise of winter. Russell stood on the front porch of the cabin. He wore his red flannel well, tall and wiry, broad yet trim. His hazel eyes searched the edge of the forest. The blue haze of the morning played its games on his eyes. Shadows fluttering back and forth, dancing as the sun came once more to push them back into the tight grips of their owners. There were deer feeding in the clearing between the cabin and the shadow. Russell's heart beat quick with the thought of a hunt, but he knew the rules. Russell was a runner, among other things. He was in the time of his life where potential burst forth from his presence, folks would look at him and talk about how he might be great one day. He had a big heart; capable of great emotion.

Russell worked with two of men named Huff and Jimmy. They were his friends. They ran a business that specialized in hunting trips doubling as mission trips. It was different but there was a market for it.

"Hey huff", Russell called from the front porch.
"Erg...", a grunt came forth from the darkness of Huff's bedroom.
"Im gonna go for a run, maybe swing through the trail to the new cabin going up and see if anyone's moved in yet"
"Well I guess I better stop ice skating and put the apples in the cider". Russell chuckled at Huff's dream laden response. The sun was up now, although the morning chill still hung low to the earth. He laced up his mizno waveriders and took off at a brisk pace down the trail in front of the cabin. The scent of dry leaves and pumpkins filled his nostrils, the cool air invigorating his body. He sped down the trail, he felt good this morning, but he knew better than to make a judgment for the rest of the run based on the first few miles. White oaks and silver maples lazily dropped their leaves to the ground and Russell beat a path down to the new house going up by the creek.

He popped out of the woods in front of the new establishment's back door. "That didn't take long enough. I must have felt alot better than I thought". Russell was breathing evenly as he walked around to the front door. The house had that new look, with cedar planking on the outside shining brightly. The piles of sawdust didn't help to disguise its age either, and if all else failed the smell definitely told the tale. Russell walked up the steps to the front door and knocked.

A woman a bit younger than Russell opened the door. "Hello, can I help you?"
A man of slower wit might have been completely dumbfounded by her appearance, Russell barely recovered. "Hi! I live down the way, and I just thought I would come introduce myself. Attempt to be neighborly you know. Haha."
"Haha, well I'm Elizabeth"
Russell laughed nervously, maybe too much, as he introduced himself. There was some awkwardness, but it was efficiently managed by the duo's experience with such manners.

Russell began to make his way back down the trail, but all the marvels around him were of no importance to him, the melodies of the avian choirs were mute and the splendid robes of the lilies were gray. Russell knew only one thing.

She was beautiful.

Drugs or Dedication?

2009-09-07T13:14:00.000-07:00

So i was going to ease into this post. Go slow, tell a few jokes, kinda warm up to what it is that God has laid on my own heart. After a couple of tries at the intro, I marked it down as a lost cause, and decided to just dive in.

God is convicting me. This is something I keep returning to, and He convicts me as often as I return. I have a sin problem. Shocker. I treat God like a drug. I use Him as a novelty. He is my crutch not my rock. And the plumbline that the Father keeps showing me is this: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength."-Mark 12:30

I have never in my entire life loved anything or anyone with all that I am, and shamefully enough that includes God. Its easy to just pass over scripture, and say that that cannot be possibly what that verse meant, its too hard. There is no way that is what Jesus meant. Its interesting to me the way Jesus says this, he says "love". This is a command that is: Active. Constant. Eternal. Jesus places no limitations on this command (yes, command, this is not an option). It is simple, "Devote, no give, your life to loving me. "

I have parts of my life that I have not allowed God to deal with. And I have parts that I gave to God, but at some point took them back. Here lies the point of this note: You cannot use God like a hot pocket, or a drug. Its not an instant thing. You will most likely not become elijah over night. You have to make this relationship the most important thing in your life. No wonder life sucks right now, you have been about as faithful to God as a possum is to Subway. One day I will live like I realize that I cannot function in any area of my life without God. I forget so easily John15:5 "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. " Christ should be number one priority.

***Reading your bible a few minutes each day for a week will not satisfy your soul's NEED for God. Praying a few minutes each night before you fall asleep will not satisfy your NEED for God. If you want "your little light" to shine into a roaring bon fire you gotta feed it more fuel, it cant burn off a little wimpy morning devotional. There comes a time in a Christian's walk when craziness is in order. You must begin to live it out at some point if you want to continue maturing and growing closer to God. Actions for which you will be probally be labeled a "radical" for are a must. If you were to start living the scriptures out the way Jesus meant them, then the world would label you as a crazy revolutionist, possibly even a hippie (Oh snap!), which is funny to me. When did the label revolutionist trump the label Christian. When did it begin to no longer be honorable to be called a follower of Christ? For me it was most likely soon after I dedicated myself to halfhearted service and expelled urgency and compassion from my life.

We gotta make this our friggin job! Everything else is "on the side", not the other way around. EVERYTHING else gets second pickens. Jesus told Satan that the word was more important than food. I DARE you to believe that. Really believe that and then take it a step further and live like you believe it.

Gumbo

2009-09-06T09:48:00.000-07:00

My parents came into town yesterday. They brought a marvelous feast and several gifts, including the computer I am writing this blog on. Mom and Win went shopping for my room and bought decorations, clothes, and some odd cap rack for which I am still attempting to discover the true purpose.

Thinking back on these things, I am gladdened. Lifted. And why shouldn't I be, aside from the fact that before dad left he gave me a wad of cash. But its not the material things that strengthen me or make me slow to let go when my mom or dad or sister embrace me. Its the love they brought. The long kindled affections of family, the soft joking, and the warm laughter, all of it is laced with love. Like a silk sheet flowing around you, it covers you and lightly moves over you, its presence never a burden.

My mom found a poster for my door. Actually she found several posters, several of which lead me to question the age that my mom believes me to be. This one states plainly and authoritatively "Keep Calm and Carry On". Which is marvelous, because anyone who enters into my life must do that exact thing, so you could imagine how much more they need to hear that when they enter my bedroom.

And then the thinking begins. I chew on it. Play with it. Wrestle with it. Searching for the deeper meaning, the truer side of truth. As a leopard pulls the hide away seeking the meaty interior, so was I with the poster.

Overkill bruh...Man, talk about bliss destroyed. Haha. Depth is relative to the amount of water over your head. Explanation: the deeper your thoughts, the more pressure you are under.

There is no truer side of truth. Truth is truth. Through this poster, the lesson that God has been pounding on my door is this. "Chill out. Keep it simple. I'm God, I am the one running things here. Not you. So since you dont have to worry about anything. Why dont you use all that extra time and worship me. Get creative with it. Do it in as many different ways as you can think of."

He he he...Here's a game, lets try to surprise God with the ways we worship Him.

I feel like that this is a lesson we have to keep coming back to. I feel like when that storm approaches, when the money isn't there, when that relationship is over, when they die, when hell becomes a real place on earth... Jesus' desire for us is not to run around freaking out, or even to try and figure it out...

But just to simply worship. For us to run out of words and search for more so that we may continue to celebrate the GOOD King. I feel like He wants us to realize that words just aren't cutting it and its time to bust out the actions. For us to love on people, all people in all ways. For us to make new ways to worship (new to us at least). Are yall feeling an aspect of creativity here? I feel like God doesn't want us to survive, or weather the storm but that He wants us to thrive in the storm.

Just as the reason I love my family is not based on "things" but rather because they are my family and no one on this earth loves me like they do, so it is with God. We do not love God because He blesses us! We love God because no one, here or there, will ever love us like He does, because He first loved us and continus to do so unconditionally. We love Him because He is God, He is Love, He is truth, and He is good all the time and that never changes.

Or maybe for you its not a storm, there is no great crisis, but perhaps there is a burden, or maybe a lack of burden, however you wanna look at that. The same applies to you. Worship, Pray, be with God without ceasing. He is with us all ways, but are we with Him always?

Its an interesting story, when Joseph is cast down into the well, it was Judah who came and lifted him out. And something that I hope to never forget again is that Judah's name means "Praise". Its interesting to me that it was "Praise" that lifted Joseph out of the pit. Worship is not limited to some building with nice music. Worship is communion with God. Its glorying God. The deeply knit relationship and community that I share with my family, is the same that God wants from us and that we need from Him.

So my challenge is this: Worship God with all that you are wherever you are. Let it be done by the words you say, the things you do, and the people you love. Dont stop. You can always love one more person, always worship a little longer. Never let this *gestures widely with arms towards the world* get in the way of His kingdom.

Subtlties Unknown

2009-06-09T21:01:00.000-07:00

There were no words. It was silent. Calm. The night was lit by the silver lamp that was hung in the sky. There was the sound of wind moving through the soft grass of the field, its steps but a hushed whisper. The smell of pine was fresh and crisp. There were deer feeding, out in the moonlight. They were black shapes, constantly morphing and rearranging as the nighttime magic of illusion did its work.

The deer were being hunted.

It took its time. Slowly and softly with a beautiful grace, it closed the distance between the deer and itself. The moonlight lit the white skin of its back briefly, the deer's eyes were sharp and it did not miss the brief glimmer that was betrayed by the soft kiss of the moon.

It moved closer. Its breath quickening. Muscles alternately flexing and relaxing as its body seemed to ripple and flow in anticipation. The distance was no matter now, its could easily make the kill.

The bullets came quickly. The men lit up the field with their lights. "It's on the border of the field! Cut it down! Cut it Down!"

A spotlight blew. "Jimmy! Get some light out here!"

The beast let loose a deep snarl from somewhere low in it's throat and then began to run. It was too swift for the humans bullets, but not their eyes.

The men watched in horror as they saw the creature run across the border of the field. Terror overwhelmed them, their yells of hysterical fear at what they beheld rang across the tranquil night.

"Huff. Hey Huff, what was that man?" Huff was a tall man with a deep voice, a man who despite his years emited wisdom. Huff looked sternly into the night with knowing eyes, "I dunno Jimmy, I dunno. C'mon let's get back to the camp."

"Huff, did you notice anything funny about how it ran?". Jimmy stared at Huff with a mask of hidden fright.

Huff didn't return the stare, but pretended to be keenly interested in tying a rope down in the bed of the truck. "What'ya mean Jimmy?".

" I dunno man, its just that the way it ran. It looked kinda familiar. Like, like the way Brayden used to run."

Huff, became very serious. He looked Jimmy in his eyes, the sunlight shining in his face, "Jimmy, I want you to stop reading them fantasy books, and start drinking more water. Now get in the damn truck."

" Yeah I hear ya Huff, I'm just tired that's all."

Red truck lights headed north as a nightingale sang its song and a small herd of deer emerged from the forest into the gray sea of grass. Somewhere in the night a chilling howl quickly cut through the calm and then faded slowly back into the calm silence. There was something about that howl, something almost human. But the nighttime magic of illusions does its work well.

There was the sound of wind moving through the soft grass of the field, its steps but a hushed whisper.