Am I MIssing Something?

Laughter from the living room replaces the sounds of cheering as Pavlov's signal I need to be somewhere. There was a time when the robust sound of cheering was my siren song to the place I needed to be, I mean as far as sounds go, there are few that are as compelling as the sounds of your friends cheering on your football team (American, not world)while you're out of the room. I now know a sound more compelling; my wife and daughter's laughter while I'm out of the room. I understand (I think) that I'll never understand completely how it is that kids change everything, but I am aware of the fact that as I sit here I am missing something...so let's raise a glass to Doogie Houser and his giving birth to the blog, let's raise a glass to things never being the same, and let's rais...gotta go, I think I'm missing somethi...

The Bow & The Archer

This post begins like most, with an encouraging word from some wise person (whether actually or perceptively) this word comes from Nikos Kazantzakis (a 20th century Greek philosopher) enveloped in a prayer he wrote, saying "I am a bow on Your hands, Lord. Draw me lest I rot. Do not overdraw me, Lord, I shall break. Overdraw me, Lord, and who cares if I break." It seems to me that there are many ways we could include ourselves in this analogy. We could be the bow that is willing to rot, we could be unsatisfied with rotting but also afraid of breaking,or we could offer ourselves with reckless abandon (clearly there are other ways eg; we reject the existence of archers, but for the sake of time I'll stick with these). To make a long explanation short, let me just offer you the idea that if an Archer exists that deserves the respect Nikos affords, then why would we do any less than offer ourselves as a bow that would break, trusting that we break for no other reason than to glorify said Archer...Do you have bigger plans?

Being Called Out

This is often times looked at as being a healthy time of self-reflection, and forward moving posturing (being called out I mean)...Right? The answer is no (or is it?) yes it is. I've been called out of recent by a precocious blogger named Crystal (check it out when you get a chance...it's like most other blogs I've read...except, honest); this was an easy one, just a ribbing about never blogging while urging others to get their post numbers up (I guess it's my middle-management urges). Although other times it's been about things far more serious, however the ever constant in all things "being called out" seems to be the reaction we have toward it.

Some of us handle it by a nonchalant gesture followed by a cliche about things never changing, others let it grip them in some sort of shame-spiral scenario, while others still allow themselves to take inventory of their lives, truth, and the possibility that what so and so has said is indeed copacetic with both (truth and life that is).

Will I be someone who continually takes this sort of inventory and learns from it? Will you? Will I take Crystal's words to heart and begin to blog more than I do complain about other's blogger's block? I don't know, it seems to me the more things change, the more they stay the same...Or was it you can't teach an old dog new tricks...I've never been good with my cliches.

Hero????

If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts could tell; sounds so trite but what is it we're looking for in a hero?!?!?!? Everyone has an idea and none have an idea. We could debate for years what it is that makes a hero, but what does it matter? Does it change the nature of heroism; or is it just another excuse to crucify those who possess it while we don't? Why was Joan burned at the stake? Have we learned anything from that?

The irony of death and taxes

It dawned on me recently, during one of my frequent contemplations of suicide, that there is an ironic link to the big picture of life (being the understanding of the inevitable ending and the lack of philosophical reason for the rigmarole that ensues and fills) and the responsibility that big picture thought processes produce...meaning that in the grand scope of things, my killing myself produces very little ripple effect in real life, but if I follow the logic of my faith out to it's legitimate end, my life is not my own, so therein suicide becomes the swansong of my hypocrisy, or my poor understanding of theology in general...neither is palatable, which concludes in the strange statement that death to self has very little in common with suicide...Ironic yeah?

The favor, and bad fishing advice

Obedience, I cannot get my mind wrapped completely around what that would look like if put into practice....I mean radically put into practice (like you just had the biggest haul of fish and the most profitable day of your life, but I'm going to call you to follow Me, and none of what you've gained is going to matter to you anymore and eventually I will be the cause of your death, radical). Let's not forget that whole scenario began with a favor to a prophet, and some fishing advice. What if God called me to give up not just everything I had, but everything I thought I was, all that defined me, to take care of orphans....would I do it? Of course I would! (he says sitting in his warm house, typing on a computer, dressed in clothes he picked out, sitting in furniture he bought with the money earned from a job he uses as a supplemental identity)....But would I really?...Would you?

Smell that?.....change is in the air.

-- Love
*Patso*

Failure and the dream

I've been dreaming of failure a good deal of late, not necessarily a fear there of, but more a calming resolve that it is an option, which is scary. The dreams are a constant barrage of instances wherein I fail at sobriety, fidelity, and dependability, and then am left with the consequences. It goes without saying that this makes for depressing mornings. Add to it the fact that these are easy snares to trip into all, or walk deliberately, and an adversary who would love to point and laugh at the after-math of any said destruction, and you've a great recipe for hitting your knees every morning...struggle can be an isometric device for specific strength training, remember this next time you stand and shake your fist at the Almight...I know I'll try.

Gratitude and Worship

I was given the opportunity to teach a couple classes on worship at the church where I am the worship pastor, naturally. Upon ending the first class, I opened the floor to any questions, one of which was "what is our motivation to worship?". A loaded question that caused me a bit of discomfort as I had never really considered this as deeply as was necessary for a competent answer. So I quickly answered "Obedience.", which is true ( if you discover there is a God, then discover this God is not you, then further discover this God requests your worship, to disobey is at it's very least illogical and it's severest, and I think more to the point, sinister.), but it is also incomplete in its scope.


The 2nd world war (probably should be in caps) was nearing an end (at least the European theatre) and the allied troops were drawing nearer to Germany when they stumbled across a strange prison like camp, with tall fences and razor wire, that could only be assumed was to keep people in and not out. Upon breaking in to the "camp" these war hardened soldiers witnessed a surprise that complicated the issue of depravity with relation to the depths that it could reach, hundreds of men barely clinging to life, starved, diseased, left to die by a retreating German army, and ignored to die by the neighboring villagers who, no doubt, could smell the erie scent of death in the air. This surprise startled the soldiers profoundly. The Jews left to die in these camps were startled by the presence of the soldiers, and were largely afraid of the men until the issue of the soldiers intentions was made clear by the sharing of provisions they were packing. Then fear gave way to a rush of gratitude, the lengths of which made many of the soldiers uncomfortable.


Gratitude, another motive for worship. This picture is apropos in that we, in our sin, were just as desperate as were they, and also our captor was no more gracious than was theirs. However always remember that your gratitude will never be seen as uncomfortable to God, because unlike the allied soldiers who stumbled upon the prison and prisoners by accident while in the throes of a larger mission, your liberation was the sole purpose of God's mission.

Irony of ironies....or is it?

Happy birthday Planned Parenthood, good news congress seems to be a bigger fan of yours than you are of parents....was that planned? It's interesting that you should be celebrating a birthday, being an organization that prevents so many. Hey, while we're on the topic I noticed on your website you say the fetus feels no pain, but then I noticed there are differing opinions. While all of this is startling it makes me think of what would happen if abortion was made illegal, or let's say the number of performed abortions were cut in half, and the current christian practice of adoption, or lack there of, would continue.....what would become of all those babies? That made me think of this verse. There is much that needs to be done, but let none of us point a finger of judgement until we've examined what we can do, and consider the cost.

Deeper and Deeper

Depravity is a well that can overwhelm you with its depth, sheer walls of jagged rock rising to the elevation of socially accepted behaviour where our adversary stands, bemused, and says "it puts the lotion in the basket". And there we stand fingers raw from clawing, nails torn, walls slick with our own blood, hopeless. There is no depth which God cannot reach to, just beyond the perch of the enemy He stands, call for His hand, He'll pull you to safety.

Humor, what the hell happened?

Upon viewing the movie Borat I was struck with the thought, what has happened to humor it wasn't always about putting people in awkward positions based upon false pretense....was it? Maybe not but it did start quite a while ago, it's not something that is relegated to this generation alone....Candid Camera comes to mind, although I'm sure there are others.

Add to that the tag line, originated by entertainment weekly (the journalistic Juggernaut that it is), about the movie being the funniest movie ever, and you have the perfect storm for disappointment....overtly racist and unsympathetic towards social injustice, Borat trudges on for what seemed like hours (especially a scene where in you get more than an eye full of eastern European man ass) and leaves you feeling as dirty as the hands of the narrator/host Borat himself.

It's true this type of humor has been around for a while, but I remember it having a tad more class

Trying to make sense of it all

Finding time to think through the ins and outs of this struggle....the larger struggle, can be tricky enough but while sorting it out things sometimes get complicated the struggle can be so broad this will serve as a journal of sorts. A terribly intrusive journal....or maybe it won't be intrusive at all, I may even ignore it all together like so many other projects I've started, and never finished...Laziness that's just one of my struggles.