That's such a rhetorical question. God always knows where we are -- physically, mentally, spiritually, geographically. He knows the exact distance our hearts are from his. And he draws us continually nearer.
He knows where I've been.
Lately, I've been in a tiny not-town called Frog Jump (unincorporated). God has once again disrupted my daily norm, stripped away those things I'd come to think of as comforting, familiar and home. He's stripped away those things I found comfortable and placed me in the middle of a foreign land, pushed me toward another goal, making me take yet another step. And I praise him for it.
It's easy to write about my current struggles or upsets -- ultimately, they are of little matter. It's harder to write about those displaced by the winds, rain, floods and death. It's harder still to know that this is not a condition limited to Louisiana, Alabama and Mississippi. Throughout our world, there are people trapped in poverty, paralyzed by hunger, suffering, mistreated, and -- above all -- lost.
And to all of us, God calls daily: Where are you?
Sometimes he calls with the voice of a brother in need: hungry, barefoot, abused and broken -- where are you? Blind, deaf and dying -- where are you? Haunted by past and present with only dread and fear for the future -- where are you?
Where are you?
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Friday, July 01, 2005
Sunday, June 12, 2005
The Dark Side
I'm a liar listening to liars.
I believe a number of things that honestly ought never to have entered my head.
At any give time, I adhere wholeheartedly to the Liar's Creedo:
The Voice of Truth tells me a different story...
I believe a number of things that honestly ought never to have entered my head.
At any give time, I adhere wholeheartedly to the Liar's Creedo:
- At times, I believe:
- I'm no good
- And neither are you
- Things will only get worse
- And they were never really better
- But I'm okay
- In fact, I'm fine
- I know what's best
- Sometimes I'm the only one who does
- And if I don't look out for me, no one will
- This is the way things really are.
The Voice of Truth tells me a different story...
- His strength is made perfect in my weakness
- We are all his children
- There is victory
- The Lord reigns
- All have sinned
- But there is therefore now no condemnation
- His ways are not our ways
- The fool has said in [her]heart "there is no God"
- Love your neighbor as yourself
- This is the way things "really" are.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
I have a very shiny, magnetic nametag. In about 22pt. type, someone has correctly spelled my name and stamped it deep in the metal faced, plastic backed thing that hovers just beneath my right shoulder, a weighted reminder of where I am.
I'm at HopeWorks, a "small" ministry of the churches of Christ. I say "small," because we're headquartered in the basement of another church right now. I say "small" because our staff consists of about 7 full-time people and one extremely full-time volunteer (about whom I'll have much more to say later). I say "small" because in tangible ways, this ministry doesn't make a huge geographic blip on anyone's corporate radar.
As I sit at my desk during a brief lull, watching an apple cinnamon tea bag bleed brightly into the once-clear water of my cup, I realize how "small" we are, but how God uses the small to accomplish the big.
We have opportunity to change lives - the lives of more than a dozen people at a time. For 13 weeks, we help bring them out of their day-to-day. I sometimes wish we could rapture them from their worlds, but instead we are given the ministry of sharpening the tools God has given them to change their worlds. It never ceases to amaze me the transformations that explode the fragile shells of prejudice, stereotype, and perceived potential.
Kip said last night that we're all jars of clay, all crumbling and some near-shattered. But it's in that brokenness, through those cracks and that absolute reliance on something other than our own internal fortitude to sustain us, and through those imperfections that the Glory of God shines through. Because his strength is indeed made perfect in our weakness.
Working here is a constant blessing to a humble, crumbling vessle.
I'm at HopeWorks, a "small" ministry of the churches of Christ. I say "small," because we're headquartered in the basement of another church right now. I say "small" because our staff consists of about 7 full-time people and one extremely full-time volunteer (about whom I'll have much more to say later). I say "small" because in tangible ways, this ministry doesn't make a huge geographic blip on anyone's corporate radar.
As I sit at my desk during a brief lull, watching an apple cinnamon tea bag bleed brightly into the once-clear water of my cup, I realize how "small" we are, but how God uses the small to accomplish the big.
We have opportunity to change lives - the lives of more than a dozen people at a time. For 13 weeks, we help bring them out of their day-to-day. I sometimes wish we could rapture them from their worlds, but instead we are given the ministry of sharpening the tools God has given them to change their worlds. It never ceases to amaze me the transformations that explode the fragile shells of prejudice, stereotype, and perceived potential.
Kip said last night that we're all jars of clay, all crumbling and some near-shattered. But it's in that brokenness, through those cracks and that absolute reliance on something other than our own internal fortitude to sustain us, and through those imperfections that the Glory of God shines through. Because his strength is indeed made perfect in our weakness.
Working here is a constant blessing to a humble, crumbling vessle.
Monday, June 06, 2005
By the way (part 2):
That photo should not be taken as any sort of proof that I actually exist. Ask Matt: I am bigfoot.
Georgia On My Mind and Drool On My Pillow
I kinda disappeared again. My bad.
Honestly, I disappeared for a good reason this time: life changing stuff, just for kicks.
This past weekend, though, I got to traipse off to the wide world of HotLanta to see ... pretty much everything. And also Matt.
Matt is a darn good guy with a wonderful wife and a passle of (read: "three")adorable kids. Just all around good stuff there in Atlanta.
Met people, did stuff.smelled the fish tacos. Was good.
Now I'm back. More updates about my fascinating life to follow.... stay tuned!
Honestly, I disappeared for a good reason this time: life changing stuff, just for kicks.
This past weekend, though, I got to traipse off to the wide world of HotLanta to see ... pretty much everything. And also Matt.
Matt is a darn good guy with a wonderful wife and a passle of (read: "three")adorable kids. Just all around good stuff there in Atlanta.
Met people, did stuff.smelled the fish tacos. Was good.
Now I'm back. More updates about my fascinating life to follow.... stay tuned!
Friday, March 11, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Today has been a shade of incredible. Actually, "incredible" is a poor word when it's broken down to its literal bits, but that's far beside the point. Take the word at face value and it fits the situation nicely.
Today has been good because God was most certainly present at our worship today. He is active in the hearts of so many and it's good to see it in ways I can't deny. I supposed today was breathed of God and therefore inspired. Enthusiastically (lit. possed of God), we praised - without our hearts, minds and spirits.
Tonight we are called to remember. Daily we are called to remember; tonight we were reminded to do so. Remember not only the times God has graced, blessed and saved us, but also those times in which he has chastised, corrected and led us to a better place through ways one might (indeed will) deem unpleasant.
Even in those times when we believe God is the thorn in our sides, he's our healer, comfort and Lord.
No real point here, either. Just rambling on the greatness of God.
Today has been good because God was most certainly present at our worship today. He is active in the hearts of so many and it's good to see it in ways I can't deny. I supposed today was breathed of God and therefore inspired. Enthusiastically (lit. possed of God), we praised - without our hearts, minds and spirits.
Tonight we are called to remember. Daily we are called to remember; tonight we were reminded to do so. Remember not only the times God has graced, blessed and saved us, but also those times in which he has chastised, corrected and led us to a better place through ways one might (indeed will) deem unpleasant.
Even in those times when we believe God is the thorn in our sides, he's our healer, comfort and Lord.
No real point here, either. Just rambling on the greatness of God.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Another Sheepish Reappearance of Q
Wednesday night Bible study always gets me thinking.
I'm in a group in which we are "studying" Hebrews. I say "studying" because we're really "progressing through blocks outlined by NIV Study Bible section headings" -- and we're expected to do so on a schedule, apparently.
I don't object, actually, to keeping a particular pace in a study, but discouraging conversation and discussion on a topic of interest to the class seems detrimental to the assumed aim -- which, I thought, was to study the word of God and apply it to our lives.
I don't know. It just bothers me that a discussion is truncated because the topic has veered from the inner titling of the NIV text.
However, we did get off into another realm, so to speak. We began discussing communion and the question of singing during communion came up. (I guess I should note that I am the youngest in the class by about 25 - 30 years. I guess I should note it, at least; everyone else seems to. Often. I should also note that I love these people.)
Singing during communion.
The leader of the Bible study said it takes the mind off of Christ and his sacrifice. This confuses me since the songs we sing tend to be about Christ and his sacrifice. And how we come to the throne of God in grace and humility. I pointed out that singing and communion are both acts of worship -- and acts of worship are, by nature, to be focused on God. He called this "multi-tasking."
Is it multi-tasking? I mentioned that I pray during communion, too, which is also an act of worship and wondered how that differed. He corrected me: "We pray before the Lord's supper."
We pray corporately before the Lord's supper. I continue to pray throughout. Am I multi-tasking? If singing bothers him, he shouldn't sing. If it, like praying, helps one to focus, shouldn't that one sing? Singing is not, last I checked, compulsory in most services -- a sacrifice rendered to God out of the overflow of oru hearts, sure, but not something to be checked off a list -- or marked off completely.
This is a rant and a ramble and insomnia-induced, no less. Therefore it has no flow and, likely, no point as well. I hope to clean it up at some point, but chances are I won't.
But I DID put something here!
I'm in a group in which we are "studying" Hebrews. I say "studying" because we're really "progressing through blocks outlined by NIV Study Bible section headings" -- and we're expected to do so on a schedule, apparently.
I don't object, actually, to keeping a particular pace in a study, but discouraging conversation and discussion on a topic of interest to the class seems detrimental to the assumed aim -- which, I thought, was to study the word of God and apply it to our lives.
I don't know. It just bothers me that a discussion is truncated because the topic has veered from the inner titling of the NIV text.
However, we did get off into another realm, so to speak. We began discussing communion and the question of singing during communion came up. (I guess I should note that I am the youngest in the class by about 25 - 30 years. I guess I should note it, at least; everyone else seems to. Often. I should also note that I love these people.)
Singing during communion.
The leader of the Bible study said it takes the mind off of Christ and his sacrifice. This confuses me since the songs we sing tend to be about Christ and his sacrifice. And how we come to the throne of God in grace and humility. I pointed out that singing and communion are both acts of worship -- and acts of worship are, by nature, to be focused on God. He called this "multi-tasking."
Is it multi-tasking? I mentioned that I pray during communion, too, which is also an act of worship and wondered how that differed. He corrected me: "We pray before the Lord's supper."
We pray corporately before the Lord's supper. I continue to pray throughout. Am I multi-tasking? If singing bothers him, he shouldn't sing. If it, like praying, helps one to focus, shouldn't that one sing? Singing is not, last I checked, compulsory in most services -- a sacrifice rendered to God out of the overflow of oru hearts, sure, but not something to be checked off a list -- or marked off completely.
This is a rant and a ramble and insomnia-induced, no less. Therefore it has no flow and, likely, no point as well. I hope to clean it up at some point, but chances are I won't.
But I DID put something here!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Wake up, Pygmalion...
Better brace yourselves...
Of course, you know, an article like that is such a nice, reliable way to pad the statistics for next year's analysis as well. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that. "The 24th is the worst day of the year? And it's on a Monday this year? Dangit." We should all give up now before the day arrives.
Or, you know, we could quit borrowing trouble and all that...
Of course, you know, an article like that is such a nice, reliable way to pad the statistics for next year's analysis as well. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that. "The 24th is the worst day of the year? And it's on a Monday this year? Dangit." We should all give up now before the day arrives.
Or, you know, we could quit borrowing trouble and all that...
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Psalm 22
Studying Psalm 22 always makes me think.
Psalm 22 is the Psalm that Jesus quoted from the cross and in a class Curt was teaching a couple weeks ago, this thought struck me: whoever penned that psalm knew nothing about Jesus, didn't have a clue about the christology of the coming church and had no way of knowing what would be done with his words. But what hit me for the first time was this: somebody thousands of years ago sat down and wrote words that not only comforted Israel for thousands of years, but were the words that came to the mind of Christ in arguably the worst moments of his life.
The words of the lament of a man of flesh to his God came as comfort to the mouth and mind of the Word of God made flesh. It's an interesting chiasm.
Psalm 22 is the Psalm that Jesus quoted from the cross and in a class Curt was teaching a couple weeks ago, this thought struck me: whoever penned that psalm knew nothing about Jesus, didn't have a clue about the christology of the coming church and had no way of knowing what would be done with his words. But what hit me for the first time was this: somebody thousands of years ago sat down and wrote words that not only comforted Israel for thousands of years, but were the words that came to the mind of Christ in arguably the worst moments of his life.
The words of the lament of a man of flesh to his God came as comfort to the mouth and mind of the Word of God made flesh. It's an interesting chiasm.
The problem with Fred Phelps (as though there were only one) can be found in his own FAQ (not surprisingly). But most particularly, I find this to be telling (taken from his site):
He's obviously never read Romans 13. The man is a freakin' gong. Or, "... sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Have any homosexuals repented as a result of your picketing?
Yes, but this doesn't matter.
He's obviously never read Romans 13. The man is a freakin' gong. Or, "... sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Peacekeepers, huh?
"When I see people being tainted by the actions of those who've committed abuse, it demoralizes the mission, it destroys the trust that the Congolese have in the U.N'.s peacekeeping mission in Congo and in the effort of the United Nations. It is a big stain on us," Guehenno said.
It seems to me that if the UN peacekeepers wanted the trust of the Congolese, they should have been behaving in such a way as to deserve it. And what's more, while I agree that "it's a big stain[...]," ignoring it doesn't make it go away. The refusal to "name and shame" the parties and countries involved is a large part of why this sort of thing happens -- and not just in the international picture. It's symptomatic of a far more localized problem that's made repeat debut on the international stage.
If it were the "bad guys" who'd done this, we couldn't name them fast enough. We'd plaster their pictures all over national news and people would talk about "those evil [insert particular nationality here]" for decades. But when WE or any of "our guys" do it -- "shhhhh. This sort of thing is ... demoralizing to the mission."
I'm sure it's slightly more than demoralizing to the 13 year old girl who's forced to sell herself to some anonymous UN "peacekeeping" troop for a couple of eggs or a dollar in order to live.
And what's more, this is a problem that will endure and only worsen. It's a pattern that's been set in motion. This won't simply go away once the UN peacekeepers have withdrawn. This has set up an entire mentality and "acceptable" course of action for these girls -- and the adolescent boys (some as young as 8) who've played the pimp.
Thank you, U.N. You've given an already sickened area yet another cancer.
It seems to me that if the UN peacekeepers wanted the trust of the Congolese, they should have been behaving in such a way as to deserve it. And what's more, while I agree that "it's a big stain[...]," ignoring it doesn't make it go away. The refusal to "name and shame" the parties and countries involved is a large part of why this sort of thing happens -- and not just in the international picture. It's symptomatic of a far more localized problem that's made repeat debut on the international stage.
If it were the "bad guys" who'd done this, we couldn't name them fast enough. We'd plaster their pictures all over national news and people would talk about "those evil [insert particular nationality here]" for decades. But when WE or any of "our guys" do it -- "shhhhh. This sort of thing is ... demoralizing to the mission."
I'm sure it's slightly more than demoralizing to the 13 year old girl who's forced to sell herself to some anonymous UN "peacekeeping" troop for a couple of eggs or a dollar in order to live.
And what's more, this is a problem that will endure and only worsen. It's a pattern that's been set in motion. This won't simply go away once the UN peacekeepers have withdrawn. This has set up an entire mentality and "acceptable" course of action for these girls -- and the adolescent boys (some as young as 8) who've played the pimp.
Thank you, U.N. You've given an already sickened area yet another cancer.
2 Corinthians 5
Last Sunday at the home group Bible study, we studied 2 Corinthians 5. And it's a great passage on the new creation and longing for our eternal dwelling and living the life that the love of Christ compels us toward. It's a chapter on our transformation into the representatives, coworkers, and ambassadors of Christ to the world being fully aware that we're not "at home" here.
This, of course, led to a discussion of living Christlike lives. Boiled down, it can be expressed in the trite-but-oh-so-marketable slogan "What Would Jesus Do?"
Darn good question for a Christian to ask -- except it dawned on me that so many of us can't answer that because, as Phillip Yancey points out, so often we don't know who this Jesus is.
Too many of us have an image of an upper middle class white guy who wore a suit and his best pair of sandals to synagogue (on Sunday) and quoted strictly from the King James. This Jesus doesn't drink, doesn't hang out with "the wrong crowd" and looks down his nose at common sinners. This Jesus is an idol and a sham.
Jesus went to parties. Jesus hung out with smelly fishermen -- who were not on Miss Manners' A+ etiquette list. They flunked out of charm school. Jesus probably had stinky feet and B.O. This was, you know, before deodorant. Jesus likely heard more than his share of Aramaic, Greek and Hebrew curse words -- he did hang around with "those people."
And he loved them. Hated what they did, sure, when it was a sin. But, too, we get sin and "something I don't like" all screwed up as well. If I don't like it, if I'm not comfortable with it or if it makes me flinch, it's obviously sinful. NOT. Several of the commandments, when followed, will put one into often uncomfortable and flinch-worthy situations. "Love thy neighbor" ain't that stinkin' easy -- especially if he's a smelly Samaritan.
I guess before we start acting like the Jesus we hold in our heads, we should probably figure out whether that Jesus agrees at all with the Son of God we're told to emulate, to have this mind in us "which was also in Christ Jesus." Sometimes our Jesus looks a lot like ... us. A reflecting idol.
This, of course, led to a discussion of living Christlike lives. Boiled down, it can be expressed in the trite-but-oh-so-marketable slogan "What Would Jesus Do?"
Darn good question for a Christian to ask -- except it dawned on me that so many of us can't answer that because, as Phillip Yancey points out, so often we don't know who this Jesus is.
Too many of us have an image of an upper middle class white guy who wore a suit and his best pair of sandals to synagogue (on Sunday) and quoted strictly from the King James. This Jesus doesn't drink, doesn't hang out with "the wrong crowd" and looks down his nose at common sinners. This Jesus is an idol and a sham.
Jesus went to parties. Jesus hung out with smelly fishermen -- who were not on Miss Manners' A+ etiquette list. They flunked out of charm school. Jesus probably had stinky feet and B.O. This was, you know, before deodorant. Jesus likely heard more than his share of Aramaic, Greek and Hebrew curse words -- he did hang around with "those people."
And he loved them. Hated what they did, sure, when it was a sin. But, too, we get sin and "something I don't like" all screwed up as well. If I don't like it, if I'm not comfortable with it or if it makes me flinch, it's obviously sinful. NOT. Several of the commandments, when followed, will put one into often uncomfortable and flinch-worthy situations. "Love thy neighbor" ain't that stinkin' easy -- especially if he's a smelly Samaritan.
I guess before we start acting like the Jesus we hold in our heads, we should probably figure out whether that Jesus agrees at all with the Son of God we're told to emulate, to have this mind in us "which was also in Christ Jesus." Sometimes our Jesus looks a lot like ... us. A reflecting idol.
Nothing much...
Now that I'm feeling a little more perky, I think I might try to keep both this and my livejournal updated a little more regularly. Insanity abounds on LJ -- as it will here, only (I hope) to a slightly less degree.
I think I've decided that depression and that sort of thing (i.e. mental illness) is more like cancer than I'd noted before. In fact, if leukemia is a blood cancer, depression is (and its ilk are) chemical cancer.
Like other cancers, it's part biology, part environment, part lifestyle and part random, unapologetic and impartial luck of some cosmic draw.
And in the same way cancer used to be stigmatized and nearly always fatal, so too are many mental illnesses. But as education and research increase, so also do opportunities and options for care, treatment and even (someday) a cure.
There are ways in which one can live to reduce one's risk of cancer (and mental illness), but despite best efforts, some will fall prey to it anyway. Like most disease, it possesses a malignant pathology -- but knowing it exists and having hope is half the battle. Ignorance and apathy are part of its arsenal. It, like cancer (a body's cells against themselves), like AIDS (the body's defenses against itself), mental illness (the body's self against itself) thrives in ignorance.
Ultimately that perspective opened up the subject for me in a new way, gave me a greater understanding of mental illnesses --including my own --*as* illnesses and lessened the almost instinctual fear I have of certain types. I may someday lose my mind to mental illness, sure. But I may someday lose my leg to bone cancer or my life to lung cancer, too. I don't worry unduly about that, though, so why should I about this? Anxiety only increases my risk factors, after all....
Just been thinkin' bout random stuff lately, that's all.
I think I've decided that depression and that sort of thing (i.e. mental illness) is more like cancer than I'd noted before. In fact, if leukemia is a blood cancer, depression is (and its ilk are) chemical cancer.
Like other cancers, it's part biology, part environment, part lifestyle and part random, unapologetic and impartial luck of some cosmic draw.
And in the same way cancer used to be stigmatized and nearly always fatal, so too are many mental illnesses. But as education and research increase, so also do opportunities and options for care, treatment and even (someday) a cure.
There are ways in which one can live to reduce one's risk of cancer (and mental illness), but despite best efforts, some will fall prey to it anyway. Like most disease, it possesses a malignant pathology -- but knowing it exists and having hope is half the battle. Ignorance and apathy are part of its arsenal. It, like cancer (a body's cells against themselves), like AIDS (the body's defenses against itself), mental illness (the body's self against itself) thrives in ignorance.
Ultimately that perspective opened up the subject for me in a new way, gave me a greater understanding of mental illnesses --including my own --*as* illnesses and lessened the almost instinctual fear I have of certain types. I may someday lose my mind to mental illness, sure. But I may someday lose my leg to bone cancer or my life to lung cancer, too. I don't worry unduly about that, though, so why should I about this? Anxiety only increases my risk factors, after all....
Just been thinkin' bout random stuff lately, that's all.
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