Spewing Coffee from France

Sitting here in the back pew at Alliance Community Church.
Exhausted.
Two meetings this morning and afternoon with ministry people from the campus of UMD. Trying to establish some contacts in the area.
But tired.
Very tired.
What does it mean to be a disciple of Christ? In our time? In our culture?
The world is so fast moving and broad. So many different searches for "truth." New waves of communication are creating less and less connected people. Even what I am doing right now would fall under this category. Comfortably sitting in a church pew in a city some of you probably have never heard of.
Duluth.
And I can communicate with you by simply moving my fingers over just the right letters, in just the right sequence.
But are we connected?
Do we know each other?
Are we having a conversation?
Not really.
What has happened between the Garden of Eden and the year 2009?
Where is all this modern day technology getting us?
Are we better for it?
I don't know. I don't think so.
But that is just me.
It is cool how we can stay in contact (somewhat) no matter where we are in the world. That part is cool. I could be sitting in a coffee shop in France for all you know (except for the fact that I already told you I was in Duluth).
But I am just spewing my thoughts right now.
I am still tired.
Maybe I will go take a nap.
Later.

Sailing the Passion Waters

Passion.

I grew up in a very loving, Christian home.
My dad was ordained in the Reformed Church of America when I was 11. What an awesome blessing it was to become a pastor's kid at that stage in my life. I had gone through a rough period in my walk shortly before my father's graduation. It was discovered that he had a very rare form of cancer and may not survive through surgery. My dad had left a well-paying job with Ford to follow a calling to ministry and I began to question why God would allow this to happen during his last year of seminary (after all that he had left to follow God's leading).
I became bitter.
God walked us through that period, revealing His grace and love in so many ways.
My heart began to shift.
Back now to being a pastor's kid. My dad served at a small church in the Detroit, MI, area for the next 9 years. It was here that my journey with God was really about to begin.
Thrust into the position of PK was interesting.
People now expected me to be a certain way.
To act a certain way.
To dress a certain way.
To talk a certain way.
I wasn't too thrilled about this. Senior year of high school God really started to reveal Himself to me. I saw finally just how complacent I had become with church and God and my life. I was going through all the "right" motions.
I started to desire His Word. I couldn't put His book down. I had been very lazy and made some poor choices the first three years of high school, but now God was starting to become REAL to me. And everything I was reading about in His Word was contradictory to what I was seeing Sunday mornings, not to mention these strange human "expectations" that were placed on me.
I started to see that God looked at man very differently then our outward appearance -- how we dressed in "His House." I started to see the yoke (the word translated from the greek to mean burden) that "church people" had placed on its people.
This began for me a wonderful time of really seeking His heart for the church. And at the same time, a growing disliking for the church. I wanted out. I felt suffocated. I knew I was experiencing God on a real level outside of the building -- and dreaded going to Sunday morning worship because something was missing. I didn't feel God's presence there. My buddies and I began a guy's Bible study together each week. Again, I was experiencing a realness in that room with those guys that I had never experienced before in church.
Genuineness.
We would pray for each other and talk together.
It wasn't just everyone in a room facing the same direction listening to one person talk.
There was this God-dialogue.
I loved it.
I came to a place in my walk where I had to make a decision: either walk away from the church as we knew it (which I really wanted to do), or figure out if perhaps God had something to share with His church and be a tool to see restoration (a big word for me right now) come to His Bride. I decided to stick it out. And seek it out. I was growing in the faith. And in my passion for seeing the church be restored. Restored to what it was meant to be when Jesus left and built the church on the foundation of Peter and then gave freely the Holy Spirit. I started to see two very different realities: the reality of what man had made of church; and the reality of what I saw God desiring the church to be. And ever since then... I am still seeking, learning, listening, and wanting to see the church restored.
So my heart is for the church.
But more than that my heart is for Yahweh.
To know what it means to be a follower of Him and to do it within a community of other sinners like myself (for this is what the church is about).
Sinners experiencing God's grace together in life and wanting more than anything to share this life with others -- to invite them onto the trampoline (as Rob Bell would say).
I have no other aspiration in life than to love people, love God, and be a blessing. Last summer, while visiting a friend in Idaho, we were sitting around in her living room (my friend, her sister and brother, her mom and myself) talking about life. The sister went around and asked each of us: "If you could do anything with your life, what would it be?" My reply was simply this: "To love people and affect some change." I don't have any great plans for my life. I have lived a life thus far of putting my sail into the wind and letting God take it. That is how I ended up in Duluth.

My Passion.

Interwoven Mysteries.Proclamations.Ramblings.Surrender.

A time is coming, and has now come.
When the people of the church must, as one, stand up from their pews and chairs.
Walk out of their meeting places and start being the people of God.
Not running or hiding from the Holy Spirit.
But welcoming Him and doing His work.
A time is coming, and has now come.
When the people of the church must return to God their Savior.
Knees bent in adoration.
Voices singing the praises of God with heartful-realness.
A time is coming, and has now come.
When the people of the church must begin praying and asking God for power and strength.
To understand what it means to surrender.

It's afternoon now. I read 12 chapters in Acts this morning. Incredible movement. Interwoven persecution, peace, praise. Resistance. Surrender. Holy Spirit. Worthy of disgrace.

I took my first shower in the bus today.
I began by putting 12 gallons of water into the tank just to make sure there would be enough. Shower took all of 3 minutes. Used quarter of the tank. Afterward, I resolved to finally attempt fixing the refrigerator. Used Pastor Mike's drill. Placing hinge in a block of wood, I drill the two holes. It works. So far it is holding. Success. Working with hands. See a problem and resolve and fix. Feels good. Yesterday, I learned how to use drywall anchors. You begin by drilling small hole to check for stud. If no stud exists, proceed by drilling larger hole, just smaller than the shaft of the anchor. Hammer in shaft and screw in screw. Felt good. Learning by experience. Making mistakes.

Learning what Jesus meant by "take up your cross daily and follow me." Each and every morning is a fresh start -- a new chance to honor or hurt Yahweh-Savior.
Every morning, afternoon, evening is a decision to change the course of your life.
Cannot make the right decision without God's help.
Romans 7.
Need to surrender every day to Christ's power and work. Failure to do this results in guilt. Pain. Doubts. Pride. Selfishness. Boastfulness. God-dishonoring behavior. Every moment we either pull the trigger to our old-self or succumb to its puppy-dog eyes. But this puppy has a nasty, deadly bite.
Bad dog.

Life is returning to this lifeless body. "Though I was once dead in my sin, I am now made alive in Christ through His sacrifice once for all on the cross." Reading through Acts this morning, I was struck by how whenever an apostle would give testimony to the gospel of Christ -- everything He was and did -- they all began with stories from the old testament. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, etc. Drawing the bigger picture of everything God did and was doing in their own time. The story of faith did not begin when Jesus walked the earth, but began "in the beginning." "For from the beginning all things were created by Him and for Him."
Colossians 1:15-23.
Leaving now. Needing to step outside and feel the sun.

This is an entry from my journal today. Thought I would share what was written. Thanks for reading.

Blue Bird Nestled.

This is my home.
This is where I rest my head and the first thing I see when I wake up.
I am all moved in. Everything I own in the back of my Saturn station wagon. It feels good.
A new city. A fresh start. A cool pad.
Living in a bus.
Blue. Bird. Bus.
I am excited for the adventure that will be Duluth, MN. It is such a pretty city. Built into the side of a mountain, overlooking Lake Superior. I had never paid much attention. But now, like a paper cut to the finger, I know it exists. And I am learning what it is about.
I am beginning the awesome process of making friends with various ministry people here. I want to know what God is doing here already.
Then join Him there.
As Brandon Heath sings: "Give me your eyes..." so I want to see people of this city through the kind, loving eyes of our Great King!
I do not have much to give Him. Not much money left in my pockets. No degrees or great skills. Just me. And "me" brings along with him his passion for understanding God's heart for the world, church, creation. I am a simple person. I need very little. So my new home is perfect.
Please pray that God opens abundant doors into this vast city.
Duluth is:
College town.
Tourist Trap.
Ghetto Gateway.
Industrial.
As one pastor who I have spoken to has already said: "this city is hard soil for the gospel."
Yet others have said: "God is clearly moving in this city."
Thanks for reading.
I am home.
I am living on a bus.

Awakening.

Father, speak to me.

Where am I?

I know why you sacrificed.

But have forgotten that you

Sacrificed.

I have been raised to celebrate.

Forgotten to remember.

Raised to appreciate.

Forgotten to say "Thank you."

Will I ever learn?

I am a long history of doubt.

Fly-by-night faith.

Fleeting glances of You.

Wandering in Nowheresville.

Do I simply accept this fact?

Do I stick my head in the sand?

Or do I finally break free?

Finally accept the truth:

You are nothing like

Nothing I have ever known.

You are more.

More than knowing.

More than worthy of celebrating.

More than needing of appreciation.

Yes, Lord.

Here am I.

Ready to listen.

This is your day.

Your moment of glory.

Our moment of life-birth.

This is Easter.

May I never forget.

(a poem I wrote a few years ago after realizing that Easter had come and gone and I had paid no thought to it's meaning.)

iDENTITY

I am Fearfully and Wonderfully made. I am created in the image of my savior. I am a worker in my Father's harvest field. I am His breath. I am loved. I am forgiven. I am made clean in his blood. I am more precious than even a sparrow. I am a son. I am a daughter. I am a servant. I am a friend. I am his reason. I am a follower. I am sought after. I am healed.
I am restored. I am strong in His strength. I am needed. I am new life. I am trusted.
I am redeemed.

 

All through one sacrifice…

Traffic Lights. Sleeping Pills. Vacations for the Mind.

It's been too long. I have slipped from my writing. Life has been interesting these past few weeks and months. I headed home after leaving my position as a youth pastor in Holland. I love my family very much. And it was a welcome reprieve from things going on at the church. Although not easy to live at home after living on your own for two years, I have managed. It's been fun reestablishing some bonds with my two younger sisters. We have a lot of laughs. And I've had opportunities for some good discussions with my parents. Again, a welcome after some of the stresses I endured at the church. Just having people around is a huge welcome. Because the loneliness in Holland became unbearable. I felt like a lone traffic light in a deserted rural town. Still blinking away and performing my task, but to no avail as no one was around to enjoy it. All I wanted was to have one person, one car, drive up and see my red light and stop for just a moment -- just long enough to watch me do my thing and turn to green: wonderful, splendid green!
So as I sit here, I feel I have forgotten how to write. Writing is surely an art form. Of this I am sure. It is something you must do and do again. You must perfect your own style. As an NBA player shoots free-throw after free-throw, practicing the most unnerving shot in basketball, so a writer must type key after key in conveying what he or she wants said. And I have not been to my gym-keyboard in a long time. And I don't even feel my mind has been very helpful in this as of late. But I have been singing to a different tune since moving home. My thoughts have not been so focused. I have not been stretching myself in this time off. I needed the emotional break. But my mind has taken a sort of vacation as well. Not so welcome. A person needs to be pushed. Our mind needs exercise just like a body. And after having been bedridden for too long, a person is slow in regaining lost muscle movement and strength. The same, I feel, is true for the mind. I have been blessed with a beautiful mind. I say this, not to brag, but as a matter-of-fact in regards to my Master's creation. For I am created. And I am created with a mind made to think and process and solve. But lately it has just wanted to sleep.
Time to WAKE UP!