500 Miles Later: The Flint Hills and What I Learned Along The Way

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I am about to open my journal once again. This was recorded over a two-day period back in November. The words of a man searching and journeying to far-reaching, never before visited lands. Please be careful. Fasten your seat belt. And please keep your feet inside this blog at all times. Here goes...

11/8/09
Dear Papa,
Sometime after 11am. Sitting at a rest stop, basking in the sunny skies above. Beautiful day for a drive, but that is not why I am here. I have traveled 150 miles so far, in my forest green Saturn wagon. My destination is not the point, but I do hope to make it to El Dorado, Kansas, sometime before the sun begins its trek downward to its resting place for the evening.
A good breeze blows its imaginary tricks against tree limbs laid bare from unconditionally cold days past. It has been a cold Fall, and today may be the last chance to sit at a picnic table with no jacket and feel the sun hard against my back and neck. The freeway behind me roars and growls as semi's, fancy sports cars out for one final "Hooraaay!," minivans chucked full of antsy kids on their way to visit Grandma for Sunday lunch, and any other wayward travelers pound hard against its concrete and asphalt veins. And I am here to breathe. To step away from the little country house where I live with my family. I need to get away from those four walls and from such noisy inventions as TV and computers. I have been crumbling these past few months. Like this road behind me, so much mental traffic has destroyed my once smooth, quiet ability to think straight. I am confused about everything it seems. And I want to hear Your voice. To listen loudly to what You've been trying to say. I need help opening my heart to whatever You want to say and do.
I intend to drive to Kansas, spend the evening seeing the Flint Hills, quieting myself while surrounded by new beauty, begin heading back yet tonight, and sleeping at a rest stop in my car. I have never done so before. Tomorrow I finish my drive back to Iowa and work at 5pm.
Let me hear You, please. Help me make sense of the mess. Keep me safe. Fill me with joy!
Every moment, if we're seeing, words on invisible pages are being written down, filled with every thought, every sight which You have ordained before creation for us.
My journey continues...
12:32pm. I have made it to Missouri! Never been here before. South of Des Moines and Hwy-80, the land in Iowa shifts to rolling hills of corn fields and pasture. The freeway winds its way up and down and around the little hills. Now here in Missouri, the rolling continues, but the bed has changed from farmland to livestock pasture. Beautiful hues of green climb their way around the hills, like two lovers enjoying a night of God-designed passion on their honeymoon.
The temp continues to inch up the thermometer. A warm breeze now moves along, tickling the grass and brush. These jeans may prove to be too much by the time I lay hold of Kansas. However, they will come in handy tonight sleeping in the car.
My mind still does not comprehend this trip. The radio has remained off since leaving Grundy County, IA. My thoughts seem stuck in hiding, as if to say they do not yet trust to come out - like a young boy hiding from a thunderstorm, not yet ready to accept its passing. It is still cloudy up there (talking about my mind). Still my soul feels grasping for air.
But I will continue...
3:36pm. I have been driving now through Kansas for over an hour. I am sitting at a rest area near Ottawa, KS, along Hwy-35. Clouds have moved in, and a chilly breeze sweeps along the prairie. That is all I have seen so far - prairies with cattle grazing. So far little to write home about. The sun is going down and soon I will lose any ability to see the land around. I still hope to catch a glimpse of the Tallgrass Flint Hills. We'll see...
Not sure the time. Nor do I care. I am sitting on a stone wall, overlooking a sunset preceded in beauty by only the hills which roll, rise, and dip, playing tag with one another. Browned Tallgrass surrounds me. It is peaceful here. The only sounds coming from the occasional car passing behind me, a tempered wind blowing in from the Gulf, and crickets... singing their praises to the One who created them. Thanking Him for making them. It had become dreary for much of the drive through Kansas. But as I approached these hills, it was as if the sky opened up only to show off the beauty! As if to say: "Hey, look what I can do!"
To think... I was in Iowa this morning! Never before have I driven so far west. Or south.
There is much yet for me to do. I have made it to my destination, yet still there are thoughts to wrestle with. I am in awe of where I sit. But that is the extent of what I know right now.
How did I get to this point? Where have I been and where am I going?
Papa, help me to make sense of this mess. Do whatever it takes. Meet me here, on this trip. Why do I not feel You? How can I know You?
The sun chases away the coldness during its peak hours of the day. And now... the coldness fights its way back, with each passing moment of the sun's journey downward. You have your paintbrush out! This sunset is breathtaking! Purples, pinks, blues, oranges - all stretch themselves across a light blue backdrop. It is amazing how a few clouds enhance the beauty of the scene! Like fire in the sky, that is what I am seeing! It is getting colder. My nose begins to water. Yet even this coolness is refreshing.
Sometime around 7pm. Sitting in a Subway Restaurant in El Dorado, KS. I made it. Wasn't sure I would. With the creeping darkness, hides lurking animals ready to pounce into your path. It is a scary thing - hitting a deer. I wish not to experience it again - not here, not now. I am eating a Buffalo Ranch Chicken footlong sub. Food tastes good. From here, I head back - back onto 54 and, turning north, the long journey along 177. 177 is the route which cuts its way through the Flint Hills. The route which makes the little hairs on the backside of my neck stand on end. El Dorado is a cute town. They have a whole line of places to eat and seem rooted in some sort of history.
From here on out, I don't feel rushed. I am no longer in a race against the sun. However far I can make it yet tonight will, Lord willing, put me that much closer to home. As I sit in this green booth, looking out a pane of glass at the traffic moving aimlessly about, I begin to ask myself why I came? Why did I leave this morning? What has it gained me? Why do we always have to ask that question? I have seen two new states. I looked upon a most beautiful horizon, full of color and wordless-cut hills, bouncing about like a child with too much energy.
Papa, the thoughts are not coming. The clear-headedness not arriving as scheduled. I need to feel at peace. To rest in You. Help me to do that. To make sense of all the thoughts which have been. To understand who I am. To know You. To feel You. To move beyond all the comforts, into a realm of the unknown life lived in the Known. So again, why am I here? What did I drive all the way to Kansas to learn?
I am excited to sleep in my car tonight. To make bed and sleep. And to wake up, finding myself yet on the road, on a journey.
And so I am off - back to Iowa. It is now, at 7:19pm, that I begin. Please keep me safe.
11:10pm. I have stopped for the night. I am in Holt, MO. At a rest stop along 35N, exit 33. I am more than half way home, or at least I should be. I should only have around four and a half hours tomorrow. This is a nice little set up. I laid the back seat down, unrolled a sleeping bag for exact padding and hung a shirt from the handle above the leftside, rear door to block one parking lot light shining right into my face. One red Ford Contour is parked about 5 spaces to the north of me. I think they intend to sleep tonight as well. I feel a bit jumpy, having never done this before. For the longest time I did not even realize people did this - sleeping at a rest stop. I think it will take awhile for me to trust that any cars parked around me for an extended period of time are nothing more than fellow travelers on their own great adventure. A cell phone (void of minutes and good for only a call to 911) and a jackknife lay next to me. It is really warm in here. That may change, but for now it is bearable.
This drive home has gone much faster than the trip down. My mind distracted by staying alert and watching for those pesky deer. I had one close call back in Kansas. A deer jumped out only nearly 15 feet in front of my car. But all is well.
It has struck me, having been to various parts of the country now, just how alike people are. This really is a small world. I remember when I used to believe that people living in different states would seem so strange to me if I ever met one. That they would smell different, wear different types of clothing, even their faces starkly deformed from my own and those others blessed to call Michigan home. So I thought. So I was wrong. People are people. No matter where they call home. Even street names repeat from state to state. I drove by a Burlingame Rd. in Kansas this afternoon. You wouldn't think this to be a common name, yet a road near my Grandmother's house in Grandville, MI, is spelled the exact same way. Strange. Who copied whom, I wonder?
Kansas City smells like coffee grounds. I'm not kidding! Both times driving through, filled the car with the aroma of coffee. How hip is that? Makes me want to live there, just so I can small coffee all the time.
I will rest now. I intend to wake up and write more. Perhaps read some too from my Bible. I don't want to rush off in the morning. Goodnight.
11/9/09
Dear Papa,
7:20am. Just waking up. Definitely cooled in the night and made waking up that much harder. Everything inside you just wants to stay there, cocooned in the blanket, head nuzzled deeply into the pillow. My eyes bounced about like a child on a po-go stick. There is movement outside, as cars and trucks awaken from their slumber. I laid here with my feet pressed against the tailgate, laying somewhat sideways, and my head reaching to the back of the driver's seat. It took a few hours for my body to adjust to a base of a trunk space never designed for such an activity as sleeping - at least not for a man who extends to 6' 2''. Looking out the windshield, only one trucker remains from the night along with me. He drives a Volvo cab with a trailer reading Koch Transportation. I hope he slept well. When I woke up only a few minutes ago, the sky looked pissed - grey clouds moved about everywhere I could see. But now, they are easing back, opening up to reveal a sun also just climbing from bed, pushing back his covers, and stretching his back. Partial blue skies fill my panoramic view out 5 of the windows. It will be another great day for driving and finishing my trip. For only the second time since leaving home, the other came overlooking the Flint Hills last night, I feel a very slight peace. I feel in no hurry to leave this 33rd exit from the Kansas-Missouri border. It almost doesn't seem real that I was in Kansas yesterday. Where is Toto when you need him?
Looking out the rear window, over my legs, I see a house just past a thin line of trees. They have a couple barns and what appears to be a lot of land, all covered in a deep green grass. Livestock probably begin their daily routine of chomping on some tasty, dewy grass. That house has probably stood there long before this highway or rest area were even imagined. I wonder to myself how the family must have liked when the state bought up the land in their front yard and opened the door for careening cars and noisy trucks to barrel by their peaceful little crescent of a homestead. I wonder if their small children awoke each morning to the sound of a rooster, only to see large yellow machines destroying their playground and thinking to themselves: "Mommy is not gonna like letting us outside to play today!" I feel a bit sad for whoever must live there. Peace disrupted is annoying.
The sun is finding itself and shining bright, like a police officer's flash light, through the tailgate window. It has rewon the battle of dominance with the clouds, at least for right now. That Koch truck still remains. I hope he is dreaming sweet!
9:19am. Still sitting here at the stop. Enjoying the morning. The sun is out in full now. Beautiful day. The Koch truck yet remains. I wonder to myself: "Has this trip been a distraction from the trip?" I wonder if I focused too much on "getting there," that I paid no attention to why I left. I left to listen. To escape, although I now wonder if that is possible, and if it is, if that was my problem? I needed to clear my thoughts. I do think it has helped in those regards. I do not feel so heavy - my mind is no longer sounding as if it were the old van from Donald Miller's book, Through Painted Deserts, trying to climb a hill with a clothes-hanger holding its transmission together. I do think, however, that I had been too focused on arriving in Kansas yesterday. I have not taken time to slow down. To just be. To breathe. Isn't that how it goes though? We work and work to get somewhere. We hurry. We rush. We make bonehead mistakes. We end up stopped at a railcrossing, which we never would have had to deal with had we not missed our turnoff and had to double back, now forced to slow down, yet still in a race with an imaginary opponent. Do we even understand why we are in such a hurry? What was the point of "getting there" last night? What did I miss out on elsewhere because I was so set on seeing my destination through? Life truly is about the journey to the destination. If we cannot learn to enjoy the journey, will we ever possibly enjoy the destination? How could we, if we were rushed to arrive? If we can learn to slow down, enjoy the adventure - every little step, road, trial, sunset, sunrise, hill, annoying deer, sleeping in the backs of station wagons, coffee-smelling hip towns - then all the more glorious will the destination be. All the richer the color and hues. This is why I left. To learn this for real. I drove 500 miles to learn this truth. And also this... one needs more than just a journal for these journeys. One needs also his Bible. It felt good to read this morning. First three chapters of John. "In the beginning was the Word... the Word became flesh and lived among us." The servants at the wedding staked their life on a faith in Jesus' words - that the water WOULD become wine for the master of the banquet. What would have happened to them if they handed the man a ladle, he sips and tastes only water? What would he have done to them?
All a man needs in this life: food, water, shelter, journal, Bible, a companion, and complete trust in a living God whom he will never fully understand. One last thing a man needs: a journey to enjoy.
I continue and finish mine now.

Self Check

Who do I want to be?
This is what I need to figure out.
What does it mean to be yourself?
If the self doesn't know itself, how is it supposed to be?
What does it mean to "be?"
There are so many versions I could choose.
Which one is right? Best?

Who's There?

Hello.
I am not sure if anyone reads this blog anymore.
If by chance you do, please shoot me a line so I know who you are.
With all the social networking websites I doubt very many people even use blogs anymore.
I had a facebook for a long time. Too addicting.
I will never get a Twitter. Too hip.
I like blogging. I will stick with it. But I was just wondering who was here with me?
So I'd like to hear from you!
Have a great day!

Volleyballs Do Not Make Good Friends

Today.
I am realizing the need to move forward.
Nobody else can do this for me.
Why would I have ever thought they could?
This is between me and You now.
I suppose it always was.
Papa, it is You. This is all about You. About sifting through endless rooms of junk. Of countless distractions vying for my heart. One part of me wants to go out on my own to seek you in solitude. Another part isn't sure how, but wants to find you while still engaged in every day life. Solitude only goes so far before driving a person mad. I am sure you've seen Tom Hanks and his friend Wilson the Volleyball. Although my carefree imagination as a child afforded me friends with the likes of stuffed animals and hot wheels, each having their own unique personality, I no longer think it wise to make friends with rubber balls.
I guess I need to focus. To focus on each moment I am given. To use each moment purposefully. I need to funnel my energies. To You.
There are many things left unfinished in my life. A messy room only half cleaned is still a messy room. I want to put my hands to good use. To create. To selflessly love. I want to play guitar. To write a song. To write a book, even if it was never published. To carve simple beauty.
Motivation. Devotion. Passion. Genuineness.
Papa, please give me just what I need for the day. This is all I want. I only want what you know I need. Nothing else "does it."
Amen.

Trainwreck

Late night.
Lots of thoughts.
Heavy heart.
Wearing a grey beanie.

Sitting on the floor, Indian-style and hunched to reach this keyboard.
Bad posture.
Listening to Owl City.
Meteor Shower.
Replaying song over and over, hoping the words might seep through my skin, crawl past my ribs and around my lungs, and be welcomed into wherever that invisible heart lives. That heart which does not pump blood, beat, or attack a person, but rather is. Is the person. The being. All the characteristics and elements which make a person who he or she is. All contained somewhere deep within.
A cold chill sweeps through my navy polo shirt and grey waffle undershirt. The cold surrounds me, as if a pack of wolves had found me alone in the woods.
My thoughts make no sense.
Neither do my words.
Analogies only go so far sometimes. Doubtful C.S. Lewis always found the words to describe how he was feeling as his wife lay dying. I cannot seem to make the words come tonight. Not really sure how I am feeling. Isn't that what words are supposed to help with? But what happens when the words even fail? My apple tree is picked bare and I am starving. The doctor will not like this one bit.
Where is my foundation? What happened to the ground I thought I was standing on?
GOD... where are you? What is happening? I desperately need you! Please forgive my actions, for they betray my confidence.
Somewhere. Deep. My heart can feel you. It knows you. It struggles to understand you, but it knows you exist. It tries to give you certain personalities and physical features. You can't blame it, that is all it knows to do. It tries to fathom, I promise. I am sorry for getting so distracted. Sorry doesn't seem like enough.
I run my fingers through my blonde hair, pushing the beanie back a little.
Fireflies now plays.
My breathing is steady, controlled.
Mouth is dry.
If you're still reading this far and waiting for the plot line...
...wait, come a little closer...
*whispering* ... so am I!
Maybe sleep would be a welcome guest. Apparently Owl City hasn't slept in two days! That is what he just told me. I promise!
I don't normally write this absent-pointedly. I just needed to try. Try and say something that you could tell all your friends on facebook tomorrow. Something you would find yourself saying at strange moments in conversations with people. Those moments when you are trying to sound all "thick-rimmed black glasses." Something deeply profound. Haha. That is funny.
Ok, I will let you go now. Have fun on facebook. Tell all your friends that Nat says HI.
I will close with the words of Mat Kearney:

"Where could I turn from you
The darkest nights, you know you'd find a way
What else have I to do
What words are there left to say
You are the air that I breathe in
Here is my heart I give
You are all of my reason
You are my reason to live"

You're Looking A Little Tired Over There...

Rest.
Stop.
Be still.
The sons of Korah, speaking through the inspiration of the Spirit, write in Psalm 46:10,
"Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted. I will be exalted in Israel."
How well do we know God?
And the God that we claim to know, do we know that He is God?
What does this mean? Are you moved in your soul by your thoughts of who and what God is? Do you find yourself shrinking as the shadow He casts engulfs you more each moment, as you come to know just how massive and AWE-ful He is? It is no small deed that He at the very least CREATED YOU, is it?!
In another translation of the verse, the word "Stop" is used in place of "Be still." Literally God is telling His creation to "STOP!" "HALT!" "DON'T TAKE ANOTHER STEP UNTIL YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHO I AM!" This is so counter to our American "Go-Fast" lives. Do we even know how to stop? Half the time we can't even obey the stop signs (have you ever pulled off the infamous "rolling stop?") while driving. Stopping is simply a waste of time.
Jesus modeled this verse many times to his onlookers. He would steal away for time alone with his Father. He would ditch the crowds and his disciples and hang out in the desert or in a grove of trees and simply be...
with his Maker.
The God who made His dwelling among us, modeled time spent with Himself to show us how important it is to "get away" from the pressures and cares and live a life knowing... well... Him. This can only happen when we pull away for a time. When we are still. When we stop. Jesus was showing us that it was not a waste of time, if the time is spent focusing on the One who made all of this for us.

And honestly, in my opinion, you could use the break.

You're looking a little tired over there.

I know I'm tired.

You must be exhausted!

Why not take a little time and just be still.

It truly can happen anywhere. I'm finding a few moments of rest while I stand next to a conveyor belt and box bottles of salad dressing. Good thing ear plugs were invented! I have begun to use moments while working to think hard about Papa, God. To get lost in thoughts of who and what He is. As it has happened, my world is drastically changed.
Throughout the Word, God wants to be known. He is making Himself known in many different ways and at different stages along the way, so as to allow no man excuse not to know Him. He was very personal with Adam and Eve -- walking and talking with them in the Garden. He made Himself very clearly known to Abraham and Sarah. He showed His power over and over to the Israelites, even going before them as a pillar of fire. He walked before Moses, allowing Him to see only His backside. He put literal words into the mouths of His prophets, so as to make His people know Him more and believe in Him.

Then...

Something happened which had not happened perhaps since the beginning of time...

He walked the earth as a man.

He wanted man to see who He was and what He was about. They had gotten so distracted and lost in the world He made for them that they forget to know Him. They forgot to revere Him. So He came. And walked. And talked. And ate. And drank. And peed. And breathed. And slept. And grew weary. He even felt pain. Intense pain. Searing pain. Pain so great that He asked His Father to take away the cup meant only for Him (meaning the business of being hung on two wooden logs, in place of our failings). He did all this that we might look to His Father, to Himself, and know that He is God alone. To rest in Him. To be still and know that He is God alone. To exalt His name above all other jumbles of words. To know. And to know in stopping. To know in being still with Him.
I am about to kill two birds with one stone, as the cliche says. I am going to send out a challenge. This challenge will be for you. And this challenge will be for me as well. I challenge us to stop. To slow down. To be still today! To step outside your current life for a moment, with all the hustle and bustle, and seek Him in the quiet. Close your eyes maybe. Keep them open if you're worried about falling asleep. Stare at the wall. Read your Bible. Look over creation all around you. But whatever you do, whatever I do, let us think on Him. For no better time spent than to spend it on the one who created time. See what happens. Do this over the course of many days, weeks, months. It will take time to reteach yourself how to stop. To not think about work. To not think about the kids or your spouse. To not think about the bills piling up on the kitchen table. Stop those thoughts for a little while. And dwell... solely... on... HIM! I'll say it once more -- see what happens.
Be still.
Stop.
Rest.

Revelation Song

Worthy is the,
Lamb who was slain
Holy, Holy, is He
Sing a new song, to Him who sits on
Heaven's Mercy Seat

Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything,
And I will adore You…!
Yeah!

Clothed in rainbows, of living color
Flashes of lightning, rolls of thunder
Blessing and honor, strength and
Glory and power be
To You the Only Wise King,
Yeah

Filled with wonder,
Awestruck wonder
At the mention of Your Name
Jesus, Your Name is Power
Breath, and Living Water
Such a marvelous mystery
Yeah...

Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come,
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything,
And – I - will - adore YOU…

Come up lift up His Name
To the King of Kings…
We will adore YOU Lord…
King of heaven and earth
King Jesus, King Jesus
Aleluya, aleluya, aleluya!
Majesty, awestruck Honor
And Power and Strength and Dominion
To You Lord,
To the King, to King
To the King of Glory

(Revelation Song by Phillips, Craig, and Dean)
My favorite song right now -- much of it taken literally straight from the book of Revelations, as the many gathered at Christ's throne can do nothing but worship Him!

Some People Only See In Black And White

Back in Michigan for the weekend.
Family reunion.
History lessons.
And this sweet adventure in my grandma's backyard.
Everything really does look better in black and white!


P.S. The old car you see is a 1940 Pontiac Coupe. Belongs to my dad. Perhaps someday he and I will restore it together.

Would You Read This If The Title Intrigued You?

September 20.
11:00am.
Pleasant Valley Reformed Church.
The date, time, and place. A big moment for me. I have felt many convictions regarding Christ's Church for many years.

It was right here. In this very spot. On the couch in my basement apartment at my parent's home. I was probably on HSA, checking out people's profiles or responding to a message. My dad walked down the stairs (his footfalls against the carpeted steps acting like the peek hole through a door, into which announces the presence of the person approaching) and asked to come into my room. His words would change my thoughts for the evening -- and my thoughts for the looming days ahead. He began: "People are getting excited." I was confused. What people? And why are they excited? Did gas prices come down again today? That would be exciting, indeed! He continued, "I sort of mentioned to a couple people your thoughts about youth group and church and they are getting really excited. They want to hear your thoughts directly. They have asked to have you come speak with them about this idea." Ummmm... errrrr... *cheesy grin.* I couldn't help but smile. I tried not to. This was all happening so very fast. Maybe too fast, but that has yet to be determined.

What my father was referring to, was a conversation he, my mother, and I had had the night before. They had asked if I would be willing to help with the youth group at his church. I hesitated with that. I had my face kicked in at the last church I served at in youth ministry. Undoubtedly, I have grown timid of the idea of returning to such position. And there remained something else... something I couldn't quite squeeze from between my lips. I wanted to say what I was thinking but felt scared. An emotion I have come to know all too well as of late. See, my time at Trinity Reformed Church last year was a time of trials mixed with triumphs. I have never been so pushed in all my life. Many questions developed over the 15-months in my white brick, book-filled office. What is this all about? Are we being effective? Page upon page worth of questions.

When my father confronted me with the question of helping with the youth group, many memories came rushing back into my head. All the questions returned. All the evening walks around Holland -- wandering alone, walking hand-in-hand with my thoughts -- flashed like lighting somewhere deep in my mind. Oh Lord, would I have it in me again? Do I have the passion for just one age group of church goers? That nagging "something" that I spoke of earlier began to rise to the surface. "I... uh... don't know that I can do that anymore. I don't know what to say to them anymore." This was the best that I could mutter. I knew there was more. After a moment of silence, I proceeded to wring from my soul what I was feeling. "I don't know that I agree with separating youth from the rest of the church. I think there is more we can do." There, I said it. And I meant it. I felt a bit embarrassed doing so. My dad has been so elated about a youth ministry at the small, country church. I was worried I would look up from the ground and see him holding a hand over his chest, and see a grimaced look on his bearded face from the gun shot wound I had just inflicted. But alas, no gun shot rang out. Instead, there was an intrigued look on both my parent's faces. So I continued. "I believe that ministry -- life in Christ is what I really mean by that word -- could better happen across the ages. Grandparents, parents, twentysomethings, teens, and children all engaged in a time of God-centered, heartfelt worship. Worship in the form of relating, of struggling, of honesty. Grandparents sharing their wisdom from years of trials and joys. Parents sitting down with their children and relating personally the realness of God in their lives. Children engaged in listening to the God-stories, soaking up the realness of God and active members in the life in Christ. No separation. No sunday school teachers or youth pastors relaying the message which should come from their parents and families." (That is a paraphrase of all I spoke.) There is yet more to my thoughts, but that best describes the main point of the discussion.

Next always in this discussion, comes the questions. People have questions for this idea. We have operated as a church for so many generations with one way of thinking: The church is responsible for the spiritual health of my family and will speak the utterances of God directly to each in the safety of their peer group. We'll call it sunday school because we're educating our kids in the way of God. We will search high and low for the most hip, current teaching curriculum and let that be our guide for our kids understanding of God. We'll prod them to attend youth group each week because they will come back on fire for God (that youth pastor dude seems so in touch with those kids and only he can truly teach them about who God is in their life). But I believe this has been a sad mistake on the part of the church. People are so incredibly disconnected from a life lived with other believers in Christ! We have shot ourselves in the chest. Despite all my "shooting" talk, I really am not a violent person. Families are falling apart. And God is no longer glorified. The latter must be the bigger sadness. We are not living in a right understanding of who God is. We do not seem interested in drawing each breath from Him. For many, their "walk with Christ" is limited to a Sunday morning service from either a bare-wood pew or a padded chair.

And so... the lingering question illuminating from my soul the past few years has been this: What if there could be more? More to the God we serve? More to our life in His Spirit? More to our life with other believers?

What if?

For right now, I will leave you with that question.

And the importance of September 20? It will be my first opportunity to share these thoughts with a group of people. Please pray I am able to speak clearly and passionately.

Gideon's $1.29

Judges 7.
Gideon defeats the Midianites.
If you get the opportunity, read that chapter. It is fascinating. Gideon is fascinating. And even more fascinating is God in this story. The way He strips down the comfort of Israel. Israel had grown to find much safety in her armies. Since their exodus from Egypt, God had been mustering her armies for battle many times before. If God fought with them, they won. If God was not with them, they lost. And ran. And hid. And were taken captive. And plundered.
But on this occasion, God has called Israel to do battle with the Midianites. And there is a catch of sorts...
vs. 2 says: "The LORD said to Gideon, 'You have too many men for me to deliver Midian into their hands. In order that Israel may not boast against me that her own strength has saved her, announce now to the people, "Anyone who trembles with fear may turn back and leave Mount Gilead."' So twenty-two thousand men left, while ten thousand remained."
Once more, the LORD said there were too many men for Him to deliver Israel. And so again, the LORD sifts the army and this time...
vs. 7 says: "With the three hundred men that lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hands."
32000 men. Gideon's army.
300 men. God's army.
God sifts. God whittles. God removes the obvious comfort of having 32000 men armed and ready for battle. And God knew, knowing the heart of men for which He created, that a defeat with that many men would have meant Israel seeing her own glory. And so, God being the jealous God that He is, removes any chance that Israel can look to herself anymore. He wanted the glory for Himself. He is God, after all. He is more than worthy of all glory. Glory was created for Him and Him alone.
Here is my story. I left my job as the Youth Director at Trinity Reformed Church last December. I left with my 2001 Saturn wagon (which I still owed money on). With less than $2000 in my savings (in March, I had to pay a $950 car insurance payment). And with the need to do some healing.
Eventually, I ended up in Duluth, MN. By this time, I had $800 to my name. This was in April. (Now mind you, I still have that annoying car payment each month. I have been trying to sell that vehicle since April.) I settled into the school bus and began searching the city for a job. Any job. Just something to help put food on the table and gas in the car. The job never came. I had found one, at The Edgewater Hotel and Resort as a housekeeper, but the Lymes Disease I had back in June prevented that from working out. I have applied to restaurants, hotels, retail stores, group homes, etc. Nothing. I have had a few interviews. But nothing has worked out.
I sit here, August 12th, and have yet to find work here in Duluth. And my time is drawing to a close. God has been whittling down my comfort. He has been sifting. I have tried to be responsible with the money I had this year. I have bought nothing frivolous. I have taken my girlfriend out to eat a few times and we've been to a few movies. I bought wood stain for my growing carving passion. I bought a new basketball. I have filled my gas tank just enough times to get by. I have kept just enough food around to survive off (in addition my girlfriend has helped tremendously in this area -- so a big thank you to her). And that is it. Besides the car payment. Having just written out my check for August's car payment, and making sure my checking account had enough to cover that cost, I will have $1.29 remaining to my name. By the goodness of my parents, I do have $42 in my wallet for gas for making it back to Iowa soon. A trip I will have to make, as a job may have come available down there. But there it is. If you would like to rob me, you now know how much I would be able to offer you.
I understand a huge difference resides between the importance of Gideon's story and my own. One deals with the safety of a nation. And God's glory through her. The other story deals with one man's trying to survive. One very small man. And God's glory through his story. God loves that one small man. And I used Gideon's story to begin, only because in a much smaller way, I too have had my comfort and safety sifted. Whittled. And God wants me to trust Him. With whatever I have left. And so I must. Even if I must walk everywhere. And eat wild berries from the side of the road. And pee in the woods (which I had been doing while living on the bus). I will strive to trust.
It is one of my biggest weaknesses right now. Trusting. I have been awful at it. And that may well be why God keeps whittling. Why my funds are being sifted. Because they do not belong to me. They never did. They have always been His. And He wants me to understand that and trust Him, to which they belong. He can do whatever He may please.
He still deserves the glory. He must have it. No matter what we do. God is glorified. It is the joy of the LORD that His creation should bring Him glory. He doesn't need it from us. He is awesome, incredible, perfect, loving, compassionate, good, and a host of other words which fail to all-encompass Him. But I want Him to be glorified through my little life. My small existence. If I am not, God will simply get it from somewhere else. For He may cause the very rocks to cry out His name!
Amen.
There it is. Gideon's $1.29.

Only A Chunk -- What The Junk?!

Here is a funny statement.
We all use it.
"I have too much to do to find time for God."
I have made that excuse. Last year, while working at Trinity Reformed Church, I had a scheduled time each work day for my devotions saved to my Microsoft Outlook. 8:45 each day a little reminder would pop up on my screen telling me I had fifteen minutes until I should start my time with God. Guess what. I almost never did them.
As if God is something for which to make time. I need to make time for God like I need to make time to practice soccer? I really don't think it works that way. God is God. It isn't about "making time for Him" -- penciling Him into our faulting little schedules. He demands our obedience. He desires our worship. Listen to Jesus stark words to His disciples:
"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father's glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what he has done. I tell you the truth, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom." -- Matthew 16:24-28.
Hey you, God desires all of you. Hey me, God desires all of me.
Or nothing.
Not one chunk of your life.
We do a great job of saying things like: "Oh, I will spend one-hour today reading my Bible; 30 minutes in prayer; and spend 2 hours this week volunteering at a local shelter." We break our lives up into two time categories.
Our time.
God time.
It doesn't work that way. It never did. Jesus never said give me an hour a day. Give me a piece of your heart. Give me a part of your focus. Give me half an effort. Jesus said instead: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." This happens every day. Or at least that is what He demands. He wants all of you every day. Not all of you for one day each week... and then the rest are yours. Not an hour here and an hour there. He wants all or nothing. And it is a matter of life and death what we choose.
He demands our obedience. He is Lord. We don't talk about that reality anymore. The reality that He is Lord. This does actually mean something for our lives. It involves more than going to church once on Sunday morning. Or Saturday night. Or Wednesday night. Or to your elders meeting. Or showing up to take the offering and then heading out. In fact, it has very little to do with what we have created to be "church" today. Jesus' way of life involves everything. Literally. Everything.
It even extends beyond: "I have accepted Jesus into my heart." We are talking about the God of the universe. The Creator of all things. Man. Animals. Earth. Sky. Stars. Doesn't He deserve more than just acceptance into our life? I know He demands more than just acceptance. He made that very clear. Over and over. He doesn't just want you to think well of Him. He wants you to give up your life for Him. You cannot have it both ways.
When talking about man's tendency towards seeking after the things of this life: i.e. money -- Jesus said that you cannot serve both God and money. You cannot have it both ways. He wants your dependence. Your will. Your focus. Your drive. Your time. Your heart. Your desires. Your life. And the end result is simple. Either you obey Him and seek after Him and trust Him and allow Him to continue working on your heart. Or He sends you home. Sad because you thought you already had it all.

Words only go so far. I wanted to present to you the truth. And now it is in your playing field.
And in mine.

Bye Bye Blue Bird

Moving day.
After 3 months, to the day, in the bus, I am moving on.
At least for right now, a friend is letting me crash at his apartment. On his couch. Not far from his lizard, Wadi. The thing has a wicked tail with spikes. Yikes!
I cannot believe that I am leaving the bus already. I will miss it greatly. But I am excited for what is next. Whatever that may be.
Oh, one of the issues here in Duluth has been trying to find a job. I have applied all over the city and over the 3 months nothing much has happened. The one job I thought I had, began right as I had a fight with Lyme's Disease and was unsure how long the healing process would take.
But...
I have an interview this coming Monday at a group home for mentally challenged adults called, Our Place. I believe they are looking for a live-in. Someone who lives on-site and works on-call throughout the night. They provide housing, food, and a small monthly stipend. It would be great if this works out. Please pray that it does.
Next Tuesday, I will be heading to Fern, IA, to house sit for my parents while they are in New Orleans picking up my sister.
Just wanted to offer a quick update on my journey. I have much more to write, but it will have to wait a little. I had started a long blog a few days ago regarding a fun week and weekend trip Jenna and I had, but have not been able to finish it. Soon hopefully.
Thanks for reading.
Talk soon.

Little One

Dear Little One,

Let me begin by welcoming you to a whole new world. The one you just left was warm, safe, small, and all about you. All of that is about to change. You will be cold. You don't just get food anytime you need it anymore. You'll have to get someone's attention if you want any of that now. Same if you get thirsty. Don't expect a quick drink anytime you want one. You'll have to let someone know you're feeling parched. Don't worry. You'll quickly learn how to get their attention. And hopefully, if they are any good at their role, they will learn for what you're asking. Breathing will be a little different. There will be times when you must fight for your air. Keep your chin up, little one. Things are definitely changing. It's ok. You'll be glad things changed soon. Life would have gotten a little cramped for you otherwise. This is all part of a greater plan for you. And no matter what kind of parents I have given you, know that I love you very very much. You are special to me. If you look to me, I will take care of you. It is I, who created you and wanted you to live. Many mommy's and daddy's will not know I had a role in your creation. They will not understand what I have given to you. But here is our little secret: You are even more than the body and mind you are about to explore.

I chose this very moment for you. Someday you might have the opportunity to learn about history and see just how I've been at work over the last few thousand years. I looked out throughout time, little one, and wanted you to be born right when you did. There was nothing anyone could have done to stop it. You are my plan. My purpose. My most beautiful creation. Everything about you is incredible. And even though it will get harder every day, do not forget these things! They will not change when you're older like your mommy or your mommy's mommy. Do not forget! There is much beneath your skin that I have made work even without your knowledge. Don't worry about these things; they will continue to function as long as I desire them to. It's another wonderful way that I have given you a purpose. You are alive for however long I have chosen for you. Your life is in my hands. You are so special. I am excited about you to be here with me.

Open your little eyes. This world is much bigger. So many new things to see and touch and smell. Only my hand could have done over the last 9-months what just took place. You. Use these next couple years to enjoy learning about this whole new world. I have given you five senses. Taste. Touch. Smell. Sight. Hearing. I think you will take great delight in them. Soak up the experiences. You will enjoy a vast bounty of tastes. Juicy, sweet fruits will make your tongue feel as if it was dancing in the rain (and you will learn the joy of this someday too). Fresh, warm bread melting in your mouth. Cheeses. Meats. Nuts. Oh, and I cannot wait till the day you first try ice cream! You will learn very quickly that your entire body is covered with something called "feeling." Explore. You will appreciate this sense very much. Carpet. Grass. Hard. Soft. Rough. Smooth. Warm. Cold. I created it that your "feeling" is most stirred by the skin of another person. This was one of my greatest creations. You will need it the rest of your life. You will find that I have given almost everything its own unique smell. Enjoy them. Flowers are one of my favorites. I hope you like them too. Someday, you might be sitting in a room, typing on a computer, and you will smell the most pleasant smell coming from another room altogether: A cake baking! Oh the excitement! Little one, I have given you two eyes. With these, you will soon learn just how big the world really is. Everything has its own shape. I love variety. You will soon see. You will see that I am quite the painter. I absolutely adore color and have used it everywhere. This I have done simply for your enjoyment. Just wait till you see your first sunset. Breathtaking! Reds. Blues. Yellows. Greens. Oranges. Purples. Pinks. Blacks. Browns. Whites. Color will play a very big role in the world I am bringing you into. Just remember this, little one, all colors come from me and none is better than the next. Take in everything that you see. And remember who made it. I am about beauty. You will see. Oh the beauty of everything. Haha! Get's me excited. Just understand however, some things you see you will not like. This is where it gets hard. You must be very careful what you see. If you're not, you will only be letting more pain into your life. I will help you with this one, if you ask. Last but not least, little one, I am about to show you the full sense of hearing. You have been hearing things for awhile now. Muffled sounds. People talking to you. Maybe you heard a song or two. It gets sweeter. Various things in the world you're entering give off all kinds of sounds. Some sounds you will enjoy. Some you will not. Oh, I do hope you enjoy music. Anything can be used to make music. Music has a very special place in this world. Oh, I do enjoy when people use music for me! If you get to make music, little one, will you make it for me? Oh please do! It makes me smile to hear my little ones making music. But just like sight, this one can be used for bad too. So be careful what you hear. Unfortunately, you will find that it is through hearing that people hurt each other the most. Just be careful, little one. I created these five senses for your enjoyment and to help you learn about me and about how I made you. Be careful with all of it. And do not forget where it came from. Through these five senses, many people who do not know me have hurt the world and continue to hurt the world. It is not an easy thing, growing up in this world. You will need me every step of the way.

And now I have called you out. Out of safety. Out of warmth. And into my plan for you. Listen very closely, little one, for I am about to speak something into your precious little ears: The world I am calling you out into will not be a safe place. You will feel hurt. You will scrap your knee many times. You will feel heat and burn your skin. Bugs will bite you. You will be afraid of them. Bees will sting. You'll cringe at the sound of their little bodies in flight. There will be one which moves slowly around on eight legs. The sight of these will make your body freeze in fear. But remember this quick tip: shoes work great! Oh, you'll learn about shoes soon enough, little one. There are bigger things than just bugs that you'll fear too. Things of all shapes and sizes. Animals with many sharp teeth. Big things that move fast. Scary noises. And as you grow, even thoughts in your mind will send terror through your little body. Do not be afraid. There are many things that you could be afraid of, but pay them no attention. Because I am going to be there right beside you. Do not forget, you will need me every step of the way.

I do believe it is time for me to introduce myself. I go by many names. I have found it difficult to express all that I am with just one name. To many people, I am simply God. I am he, yet many do not understand the meaning behind what they say. It is used too often; understood too little. You'll hear some of my names used by people for other means. Be careful how you use my names. All I want, my dear little one, is for you to understand who I am. I want you to desire me. That you may best understand me in your young, wonder-filled mind, you may call me: Cord. You understand this well. Not too long ago a cord connected your body to your mother's. This cord brought food and nutrients into your little body. It was your connection with your mother. It sustained your life. This is who I am. I am your sustaining life. I give everything you need to grow and live. I give you food, drink, breath, I gave your heart the little spark it needed to begin. I am the everlasting cord. When a person forgets who sustains their life, they die. Just as you would have died without the cord connected to your mother's body. Remember my name for the rest of your life, even after the scare has healed from the last cord being severed. I will never be severed from you. That is why I called myself the everlasting cord. I will not be cut off. The life sustaining that I offer is always yours to have, so long as you seek me for it. But remember again, little one, a life apart from their source of life is no longer a life. You will die apart from me. I am Cord. Oh little one, I am so excited to share with you all about myself.

I am your Maker. Your Crafter. I dreamed you up and put my hands to work, selecting from only the best of ingredients. I sat down in my workshop and pieced you together. I did this with all of creation. Because the story is bigger than just you. It began long ago. In a garden. The most beautiful garden ever made. Oh little one, I do hope you enjoy this story. It is my favorite.

It was long ago. In the beginning. The beginning of all things. Except for me. I was before the beginning. The earth was not yet formed. I stepped into the picture. Sitting down at my design table, I thought up every nook and cranny that I wanted created. I wrote down all the words I wanted to speak.

I opened my mouth. Words came flying out. My words became light where no light had existed. Flame ate up the darkness, forcing a distinctive line between where light and dark would now live. I stopped what I was doing and looked, staring at what I had just done and liked it very much. This was the first day I recorded. The first day of days. Time began right here.

The next day, speaking again, the words became sky shooting from every corner of my mouth. I had this perfect design for water above and water below and needed to separate them. My words went out and pushed a space between the two waters – waters above and waters below. I liked my design. This was the second day I recorded.

The third day, speaking again, my words went out from my mouth in power and became land. The water below I knew should be nicely complemented by dry ground. And so my words did as I instructed them. I now had water and land below. It was perfect. But I wasn't finished. I had more planned for this day. My words continued to come out from my mouth and now on this dry ground came green plants of many kinds, each with the capability of producing more of their own very kinds. It was wonderful. Live plants that would keep producing and growing. Trees, bushes, flowers, shrubs – all beautiful and perfect. I very much liked what I had just created. This was the third day I recorded.

The fourth day, I opened my mouth and out came sources for the light from the first day. I wanted to separate the light from the darkness into timeframes – a light for the day and a light for the night. By this day and night, all time would be measured – hours, days, weeks, months, and years – and also four seasons would have rules to instruct them. A large ball of fire came shooting from my mouth. I called this ball of fire the sun and gave it strict instructions to give off light during what would be the day. Also, the moon, not as bright as the sun, came shooting from my mouth and would be my light for the night. I set these, sun and moon and also stars, in the sky from the second day. Oh, how I liked how it was all coming along so perfectly. This was the fourth day I recorded.

The fifth day, I opened my mouth and from it came fish and birds of all kinds. Wonderful, colorful fish of all kinds came shooting from my mouth and into the water below, filling it. Also, perfect, graceful flying creatures called birds came shooting from my mouth to fill the sky with their image. I told all these fish and birds, continue to make more of yourself – lots and lots more! Never stop. And they won't. They are always making more. It's beautiful. I am so excited about what I have made today. This was the fifth day I recorded.

The sixth day, oh how I love telling about the sixth day, I opened my mouth and the words became animals of all kinds on the ground. So many animals everywhere! And so many different kinds. Big animals, small animals, furry animals, smooth-skinned animals, blue animals, red animals, black animals, white animals, animals with 2-legs, 4-legs, and even no legs. Oh, how I love variety. Then I opened my mouth again and the words became a man. This creation was special to me. There was something extraordinary I had planned for this one. I put pieces of myself into the man – hardwired it into his craftsmanship so that he could not rid himself of its existence. After some time passed, I made the man fall asleep – it wasn't hard since he'd been busy giving names to all my other creation – and then I took a bone from his chest to make a very special helper, a beautiful woman to walk beside the man and to compliment who I had made him to be. I finished by telling the man and woman to have more of their kinds. Lots more. And then we walked. I walked with the man and woman and placed them in the most beautiful part of my creation, a garden called Eden. I looked out over everything I created and it was very good. I like it all, but especially the man and the woman. This was the sixth day I recorded.

The seventh day, I planned that no more words would come from my mouth. I laid down on my couch to rest from all my work in creating the world and everything my words went out to do. This was a special day and would be forever more. The day when I rested.

You understand rest, don't you little one? You love sleep. I designed your body to need lots of sleep right now. It has been a long day. I will let you rest now. But tomorrow, I will tell you more about myself and how much I love you. And I do. I do love you, little one. Do not forget. I made you – spoke you into existence just like man and woman when I created the world. You are special just like them too. And I love you. Your Cord loves you and wants you to rest now. Goodnight, little one.

Goodnight.

Grace Like Shampoo.

Saturday night. Jenna and I were to my home in Iowa, visiting my family. My sister Victoria and I were up watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie. It was around midnight.
Chara, my families dog, was barking to be let in. She is a black with white belly Britney Spaniel and Lab mix. Almost 11-years old. If she was a high school guy, she would fit right in with her shaggy fur and slightly curled up tail. Weighs around 60 pounds. Head comes to your waist, maybe a little above. She has been a huge part of our family since we got her as a pup. Very devoted dog. The sort that you can let off a leash and are assured she won't run away screaming. Victoria got up to let her in.
Oh the night we were about to find ourselves in the midst of.

Toria, as we call her, came into the living room where I was sitting, waiting for the commercials to stop their jabber, and said with a slightly distressed, slightly confused look on her face: "Chara is drooling from both sides of her mouth."
"What?" I asked.
"Chara has lots of drool running from both sides of her mouth."
"Ok. Well, let her in and we'll see why."
Just so you know right now, we never figured out why she had such drool coming from her mouth. But she was right because it was as if the fountain of youth had found its way through her insides and out her mouth.
But the story continues...
The moment that hound entered the house, I felt some terrorist group proclaiming war against my nose. Chara came in stinking. She smelled awful. The odor filled the house immediately.
Since it was my parent's house, I did the only thing I knew to do which was wake them. This began the long part of the night, as the three of us -- Toria, my mother, and I -- went to work trying to remove the stench. My mom tried a damp cloth and dog shampoo. Dry. Not going to work. We need more ammo. We need water.
Shower time.
So I stripped of everything but my boxers (yes, I just said my boxers... don't get your undies all in a tizzy) and beckoned Chara come into the shower with me. It was in that shower that I first began to realize the bigger picture of what this event was showering me... I mean showing me. There in the half-bath shower of my parent's main floor bathroom. With a solid fiberglass door and shower head on a hose. At 12:30am. Trying to hold my breath from the smell which was now locked up in the small space that Chara and I now occupied together. I scrubbed. Soaked. Rinsed. And scrubbed a little more. All trying to overcome the stink that Chara got herself into.
In that shower, wet and covered in clumpy black hair from Chara's coat, thoughts of God filled my mind. Thoughts that would not permit me loose until I had fought and thought and fought some more. God was taking another occasion to teach me truth. His truth. The only truth that is truth.
There are so many times we get ourselves into a stink of a situation. We wreak! We're dirty. And we don't even realize it. God has to take us by the hand and lead us into the shower with Him. We have to humble ourselves to letting Him wash our stench away. He strips down into His God-sized boxers (I don't know very well whether or not He has need of wearing boxers) and very gently and lovingly begins the cleaning process. The water runs down over us. We are a little scared and ashamed. We don't understand how we ended up in this place again. We keep our head lowered and breath very slowly, as did Chara in that shower. We figured last time would be the last time. But He just keeps washing away the odor that had so worked it's way into our heart. Grace is lathered across our souls. He works it in deep. To penetrate to the root of our thick fur, where the smell resides. The water continues to fall on us. He continues to work on our mess. A mess -- a smell -- we cannot remove ourselves. We try. Chara tried too. She came in from the outside and started rolling all over the carpet. She wanted the smell off her. So she did what she knew best to do. Roll around. But all it does is spreads. She is so very kind enough to share with everyone else. But all her rolling and rubbing doesn't do a thing. Neither does any of our own fixes. Alcohol. Drugs. Sex. The latest and greatest toy from Best Buy. A heavy paycheck. A new relationship or lover. A juicy romantic novel. A plate of french fries. Day time TV. Even our own pursuit of good health. It's us. Trying to fix and rid ourselves of our own stench. On our own. Without Him. And the carpet still stinks.
But still He remains. With such gentleness, He moves His hand across us with water pouring down to wash away the grit and grim of our sins and makes sure to rinse out well everything. Leaving no trace behind. He works in His own perfect timing. And finally, we exit the shower once again clean and smelling like some beautiful scent that the Creator of the universe could only dream up.
The stench and stink is gone. Wash away. GONE! Did you hear me? It no longer exists. What once was is now no more. No more. No more war against the nose. No more smelling like burning rubber mixed with skunk. We are free from the smell. He has made us clean.
This is grace. This is forgiveness. This is the God I am wanting to live for. Willingly jumping into the shower with us and our horrible smell of a mess we made and doing what we were powerless to do.

Grace Like Shampoo.

Who Is That Faceless Man?

What would life be like apart from facebook?
Facebook has been a huge part of my life over the last 3 years. I am glad that facebook does not publicize how much time exactly I have spent on there since my facebook "beginning." I think I might cry. Or perhaps throw my computer into Lake Superior. I don't know.

I remember being so excited to finally have it.
My college didn't have student email addresses. So for a long time I was not able to get it. But in the summer/fall of 2006 all of that changed.
And I was overjoyed. Ecstatic. Now I could be one of the cool "college twentysomethings" that were creating a life on facebook.
At my peak, I had over 600 friends.
Almost 40 photo albums were published.
600 pictures with my face tagged.
Top friends.
Bumper stickers.
I was cool.

"Too much of a good thing is... bad."
And how true that is?! I recently tried to put just a little more water into my bus' water tank. SPLASH! Bad idea. The hose and jug got backed up and water went everywhere. I learned right then and there that "too much of a good thing is... bad."
The same goes for facebook -- and anything on the internet.
I got sucked and duped into the world of "staying connected."
Like for many people, facebook was a second home for me. Whenever I felt alone or like I just needed a friend, there was facebook.
This created so many other problems for me. Depression. Frustration. Real loneliness.
Oh, how many late nights I spent wishing someone would get on to talk to.
How I would think about facebook all day long. Wondering what my friends were upto.
Looking at all the photos of fun that people were involved in and wishing I was included. Commenting on those photos just to let people know I was there.
Making groups to see how many people I could round up -- then staking my existence on the success of the group. I remember how excited I was when one of my groups -- Yeah! I'm A Hopeless Romantic -- reached 5000 people. I am a success. People love me. Yea!

Facebook is too easy.
Connection with people we care about shouldn't be this easy.
We should have to work.

So I am about to try again.
To try again to live life without facebook.
I wonder what it will be like?

Walking Against the 7-Grain Bread.

Grain.
I carved a boat today.
Took me five hours.
First 3-dimensional object I've carved.
It was relaxing. Encouraged me to get outside. Breathe some fresh air. Use my hands.
Cut my finger really badly though.
That hurt.
I was sitting down by Lake Superior, on a rock jutting out into the water when my hand slipped and the blade sliced through my flesh like butter.
One of those learning curves. Whatever that means.

Have you ever carved wood before? Or chopped wood? Have you ever seen the lines running through a piece of wood? Grain. It is where we get our cliche: "Going against the grain." You would not understand that cliche unless you've ever worked with wood before. Don't try it. Do not go against the grain. Bad things happen. Like cutting off your finger. Or worse... wood fray!

I was thinking about grain today. This was after I ate my 7-grain bread this morning. But my thoughts had nothing to do with my breakfast. I was thinking about how Jesus went against the grain of the culture He had been born into. Everyone was walking in this one direction. They were all running after godliness by their own power. Man, if I do good and pretend to follow this law then I'm set for heaven. Bring on the pearlys! Everyone was trying to make it on their own, thinking they were honoring God. Then Jesus comes and starts walking the other direction. I'm sure at very first people did not take much notice. The dude probably just dropped his wallet back there and wants to find it. Quick, whoever finds this dudes wallet before He does gets a free goat! But it did not take long for this "other direction" to get people's attention. This was completely different. You mean, this guy, Jesus, is actually walking... the other way?! WHOA! "Hey hey, Jesus, you know man, you're walking in the wrong direction buddy! It is this way to God, man!" But Jesus was God-man so He paid no attention. Jesus wanted to show people the perfect way to the Father.
All throughout the history before Jesus' time, God kept showing people who He was. He kept wanting them to see how totally awesome and beyond understanding He was. He wanted to talk to them. But they were too busy building towers reaching to the sky, walls wider than Shaq's feet, and seemed obsessed with swords. But God had meant for them to live IN Him. To draw everything they were from Him. And so to get the message across, once and for all, He inacts the plan He had been making since before the world even came into being ("being" is a big fancy word meaning: God spoke and then there was...). Jesus. His Son. Man's son. "The Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood." God intrudes. And has a little something-something to say. "All these things you're doing will not save you. I do not care about them. I just want you to know me. To know that it was I who created you. I breathed into your very lungs and gave you My breath. It was I who chose Abraham to father all of you -- and in a way you don't even understand. It was I who spoke with Moses and gave all these laws. Because I wanted you to see that you could not do it without Me. And so I AM here." So Jesus came both in fullness God and fullness man (do not just simply read over the word "fullness," think about what that is saying), to point people in the direction they were supposed to be walking in before. They just didn't know that. And apparently they liked the direction they were walking in (if only they understood that if they turned around, the other side of their face would get a little Son too!).
It's hard carving against the grain. And apparently hard walking against the grain too. But Jesus calls us to follow Him. In the direction He's walking. And that means we must walk against the grain of those around us. It will be hard. Maybe it already has been for you. You constantly have to be watching where you're walking -- where He's walking. Bumping into people is unavoidable. Just a word to that though: Jesus loves it that way! Because you have their attention at that moment and you can tell them why you just bumped into them. And it means that with each step you and those you were walking with before are getting further and further apart. And that may be the hardest part for some people. Having to walk away from those closest -- to follow Jesus, to have fullness of life (there is that word again). There is a cost. For some people, that may just mean losing your finger. But Jesus commands that you follow Him against the grain of the world. He wants to have you as His companion along the journey. He'd even die for that possibility.
Sometimes in wood-carving, it is enivitable that you must work against the grain. And you must. Through the cutting off of fingers and wood fraying. When it is finished, something beautiful appears. God had a similar result. ONLY A GAZILLION TIMES MORE BEAUTIFUL: YOU!
Isn't it fitting that Jesus was most likely a carpenter? I wonder if He had trouble carving against the grain?

Jesus Built Relationships. Not Buildings.

What comes to mind when you think of the word: "Church?"
What emotions does it stir?
Joy? Happiness? Frustration? Sadness? Nothing?
What ideals do you associate with the word?
Friendship? Social gathering place? Safety? Singing songs with Larry? Long-winded messages? Hypocrisy? Judgment? Money-hungry leaders? A "better-than-you" pastor?
What does scripture say about it?

We need to know what we mean when we announce to somebody that we "go to church." Because the world is watching. All eyes are on us. If this were not true, "Christianity" wouldn't be a favorite subject of late-night satire. And politicians wouldn't attempt to make us think they were one of "us."
The church is used, abused, manipulated, and dying. It doesn't know who it is. And has unknowingly forgotten on whom she was founded. In many cases, it is a dying organism. Suffocated by traditions, organization, plans, multi-million dollar buildings, entertainment, comedic personalities, guilt trips, statistics, and complacent populations.

The church as a reality of life has been lost. But not forgotten. We have the Word of God. And contained within those pages are snippets of what it can be and was meant to be: a life together lived in relationship to Christ.

I am being pushed. I have been so focused the last 5 years on frustrations with the church and trying to understand what it is, that I made an idol of the church. Without even trying. I only saw two angles. A right way and a wrong way. And I feel I missed out on The Way. I had good intentions. But not God intentions. He wants a relationship with me. With you. First and foremost. That is what He is about. Jesus came to show us the way to the Father. To show us how to be in relationship with Him. He was so about relationships. Jesus would not have affixed Himself to one group of people meeting in a brick building. Jesus built relationships. Not buildings. Jesus didn't establish regular meeting times. He wandered. He met. He talked. He listened. He loved. He healed. He prayed. He slept. He ate. He pooped. Jesus didn't wake up Sunday mornings, dreading sitting through another service. He didn't raise His hands in worship because everyone around Him was doing so. Jesus didn't set aside exactly 10% of His earnings from His carpentry business for a local congregation. He talked about life. Real life. Full life. Jesus was honest. Really honest. He had this unabashed love-affair with His Father. And all He wanted was to honor Him and glorify Him. His very life flowed from His Father like water from a faucet. Jesus came to show us the way. He was The Way. And church is about living His way right next to Him.

If you're reading this. If you "go to church." If you grew up "in church." Please take some time to really understand what the church was... and is. By calling yourself a Christian, you are fully throwing your lot in with His. Make sure you know what that means. I am trying to do the same.

In Christ,
Nat

[Return]ing To Poetry and something about some book...

New book I'm reading:
So You Don't Want To Go To Church Anymore
By Wayne Jacobsen and Dave Coleman.
Pick it up if you're able. It's a good read. It's the fictional story of Jake Colsen and his incredible story that develops before your eyes.
It follows thirteen conversations he has with a man named only John. John comes and goes and sets out to challenge everything Jake has ever known. John has this incredible love-relationship with Father (as he calls Him). John wants to help Jake see faith, truth, joy, forgiveness, sorrow, pain, love, and community through a different set of eyes. To realign Jake's heart with what it's been missing for years.
It is compelling.
I wanted to underline almost every word that John utters throughout the dialogue.

God is moving. His Spirit can be seen. The Bride has stopped her adulterous ways long enough to begin asking questions of the life she made for herself. People are starting to ask major questions of the church. I believe the bigger point being that God is calling His people into realness. Genuineness.

Arise O Bride
Return to your rightful place
At His side.
Do you hear Him calling you home?
The most beautiful voice is His alone.
So arise
Put on your loveliest gown
Pin up your hair
Throw away that frown
Because your Groom has arrived
He has already broken the chains
Which once held you down.
What a glorious day!
He does not care what you have done
Where you have been
Or why you had left.
He only cares that you come back
Never mind what you lack
Just come fall in His lap.
Arise O Bride
And finally! return to your rightful place
At His side.

Return.