Category Archives: People

CA: Day #6 & #7

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The last couple of days have been a bit of a blur, as there’s been lots of sitting in meetings in the same few of spaces in the hotel: eating room; conference room; snack bar room; our room & balcony, etc.

Early-ish Monday we ate breakfast & gathered in the conference room (not as cool as the one on the Office; think more hotel-nouveau randomness,) for a “Intro to Menaca” where we learned about the international region (classified by our parent organization) we are currently in. MENACA is an acronym for  “Middle East – North Africa – Central Asia.” Click the link for more information & to hear more about a HUGE region of the planet/the planet’s people.

Couple things that stand out:

  • Very little US project funding is given towards this region: only about 5 cents of every $100 given to “Good News projects” goes to this area;
  • There’s a lot of apathy & even animosity towards the people of this region; possibly because over the last several decades ‘we’ (the West) have been at war with ‘them.’
  • The peoples of this region are often seen as ‘other’; Muslim nations, radical, extreme, dangerous, etc.
  • While many/most of the nations this region are ‘closed’ to the Good News in theory, in practice there are actually guidelines in place that allow believers to actively live out & share their faith & gather publicly for services.
  • What is called or seen as persecution, isn’t. It’s consequences for insisting on doing ‘outreach’ in the most ‘self-focused, go for the big bang’ way. It is often a response to unwise violations of the laws set up to keep real cults & subversive movements from taking root in-country; the local believers in the fellowships don’t see it as persecution; they see it as opportunity to invest person to person & to also to really consider how one person’s actions affect those of another. Even my inept dancing around saying/using certain words (in this blog & others) & referring to to it as CA (instead of the specific country name) are out of deference to the local believers & their desire to not draw attention of those in authority to themselves by having a bunch of unknown & self-focused ‘foreigners’ come to their country with who knows what message, & then go home leaving behind messes of all sorts. (Please bear with me today – the words aren’t flowing easily; I’m less than articulate this early morning.)
  • A final illustration: A few years ago, I made an off-hand comment at church during a message about Jesus dying for the sins of ALL people, not just Americans. Including the people in the Middle East. One of our members came up to me afterwards & told me that a person sitting next to them, after hearing me say that, muttered under their breath, “Jesus didn’t die for those muslims…” The next week, I specifically addresses that comment – not knowing who made it – & talked in depth about the ‘false Good News’ that is only Good News for American people/people like ‘us.’ If it is not Good News for everyone, its not the real Good News. This isn’t a blog about X-ian nationalism, USA first (only?) religion, etc… But it is a reminder to check our hearts (& our faith) for prejudice, racism, hatred, ethno-centrism, & the like… & to urgently submit our own hearts & lives to the regular examination of the Holy Spirit for Him to expose & remove the more-deadly-than-cancer hatred of fellow man that manifests when we identify them as “other” or ‘not like us.’ Nuff said

We’re here for a Discipleship Leadership Training (DLT) for the locals from the greater CA region of MENACA. They’ve been in a cohort for the last several months exploring the theological & working on practical application; our team is here to help with the presentations of this round of DLT, & each of us team-members has been assigned a topic dealing with “Family.”

Tuesday, theBean & I did a module on marriage, & then she taught another session, the dreaded late afternoon, everyone is toast & ready for dinner session, on Women & Mothers. She knocked it out of the park – everyone loved the direct, applicable, real-life stories & self-revealing testimonies about our own struggles. More than a few came up to us to say “thank you” for being real about the struggles of marriage, parenting, etc. One guy said, “NO ONE talks openly about their own issues; this is freedom to be able to not have to be perfect, but to share how God has worked in you to transform your life.” It was precious.

After dinner we met with a couple from another country in CA & listened to their stories & testimonies about how they are living out the Good News in their context; the main part of the purpose of these interactions is to solicit prayer & prayer partnership, & it is moving & faith-building to hear stories of how “the fervent prayers of God’s people are powerful & effective.”

We’re wiped out – sleeping ok, but the Kauai style roosters start crowing early & often… Our access to coffee here is NOT the Machine of Joy; it’s a collection of Starbucks VIA that we brought, fed by a hot-water kettle in our room.

Talks with others are life-giving; they are also draining because 90% of the time they have to be run through a translator (or at least an app on our phones.)

Today – Wednesday – are the final sessions of the DLT, followed by an opportunity (requested by the local leader) for our team to pray for & bless those in attendance. Looking forward to that for tonight.

Thank you for your prayers – please keep them coming… esp. for soft hearts, life transformations, & for the marriages & families represented here by the precious men & women who faithfully serve all over CA. My faith is being built as well – & I can definitely see the “why’s” about theBean & I being on this trip.

Blessings to you

CA: Day #5

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Had a quick & earlier than normal breakfast & said goodbye to the last “coffee on demand” we’ll get for a while. (Really enjoyed the Machine of Joy.) Checked out of our hotel rooms & brought our luggage down to the Transporter, S, then piled into a couple vans & made our way over to the Mother Church – MC.

There are 10 services from Saturday to Sunday night run by a variety of people in several languages; the lead pastor of the MC said he goes to 1 or 2 a week, (usually different ones so he can make sure to see what’s happening with the people in each one.) He said his/their philosophy about adding services is: when a service starts to fill up, he will appoint a couple of faithful people from that service to hive off to another day/time & then let people know this is where they’ll go. Very grassroots & fluid – very grace-filled & empowering… especially since formal Bible education & training programs are forbidden by law. Really interesting that the govt “oversight” that many at home would see as persecution & repression only seems to fuel the church’s mission & creativity; they seem to work well in the face of what we’d probably see as a major point of discouragement & reasons why we can’t raise up leadership.

Our team went to first service & worshiped together; its the main ‘official language’ service; went about 2 1/2 hours with lots of joy, good, solid teaching on the power of God’s Word, communion & several opportunities to engage in vibrant worship. Before, during, & after the message. The worship team was fun – & for those who may remember, it seemed like Sue Leishman was running sound & that Dave was playing bass, because the bass was DEFINITELY driving & thumping & filled the hall with rhythm so clear that even I could move to it. A little.

Someone dropped off a selection of pizzas for the team & we ate in the pastor’s office, our own version of the upper room. We had about an hour to kill before the next service, a 2nd language meeting run by one of the pastoral staff. Worship with this people was a little more subdued, but just as pervasive throughout every aspect of the service. I spoke from Colossians 2:6,7 (Rooted) & the give & take of the translation went well; thankful for gifted language people who were able to interpret what I said & make it understandable to their church… not an easy task as every language group has their own “ways & means” of understanding & interpreting language so that what is said makes “sense” to the hearers. My guy was visibly relieved at the end of the message… said he was nervous that he would not do a good job (imagine that.) We had a good laugh & some good encouragement for each other as we both celebrated the fact that the Holy Spirit gives us what we need in the time of need. Amazing how much we have in common with other believers in Christ, regardless of country/region of origin.

After the services I was toast, but we needed to wait until the transport came back. Thought it would be about 5 p.m. but it turned out to be closer to 6:45. There’s lots of hurry up & wait times… not because of poor planning or someone dropping the ball, but because life happens & in a city of a couple million, there are a lot of variables beyond our control, including traffic, tech, life surprises, & extended service times. Our team rolled with & took the opportunity to talk together & with new friends from one of the represented congregations. While we were waiting for the vans, the evening service started; the pastor told me it was specifically created for people who have been burned by church, by life, & by various combinations of the 2… people who couldn’t bring themself to come to the morning services (high energy, high interaction/community, & production) but who wanted to push through & find a space to allow the Holy Spirit to heal, restore, & help them see HOPE restored in their lives.

Of course I was intrigued so i watched & listened to part of the service from the foyer (on the TeeVee.) It had a very informal opening, with just a piano playing a gentle & haunting & worshipful melody for several minutes. (Think From Eternity by Jeff Deyo). ; I didn’t know it had started until I heard a person talking on the microphone, obviously giving brief introduction to the evening, but it was so brief & to the point & low energy, I wouldn’t have associated it with a ‘welcome to service’ if I didn’t know. I wish I could have stayed for the whole time & that I could speak the language; would have loved to be a fly on the wall & hang out on the off chance one of those attending would have wanted to talk. Jesus is near to the broken-hearted, & His gentleness & compassion in dealing with people knows no bounds. This is one aspect of ‘church’ & ‘ministry’ I hope to continue to grow in.

The team got transported to our hotel in shifts, & my van was the last to make the hour-long trek to the hills, meaning, by the time I arrived, theBean had everything set up & unpacked. I felt pampered, & I needed it (remember the “I am toast?” Still toast, except darker brown than I was before.)

Had a quick & interesting dinner together, then got a tour of the facility. TheBean & I were crashing so we navigated to the respite of our room & settled in for the night, albeit after a few minutes soaking in the views on our upstairs balcony. Booyah & Hey now! Thankful for the unforeseen & continuous blessings. And thank you for your continued prayers.

Things shift tomorrow as pastors from around CA will gather here for talks, teaching, & building community. We’ll be taking it where it goes & seeing how we fit in with the programming I’m sure.

Blessings to you!

CA: Day #4

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Saturday began w/oatmeal & copious amounts of raisins washed down w/a couple cups of black coffee. Our team gathered in the lobby for our morning briefing & shuffled to the 3 vans that would be our transportation for the day.

Today involved tours of 3 of the homes the local host church owns/sponsors for people in various states of life repair, housed according to need (women & kids; guys in rehab; ladies in rehab; special needs; elder care.) The first home was women w/their children, all leaving behind abusive situations with the idea of creating a Jesus-centered community to help them get on a good life track, build life skills, & gather themselves together to somehow learn to dream again. We heard several testimonies of God’s goodness to the ladies & got to celebrate with (& grieve with) them in the middle of the (often) extreme makeover happening on the fly in real-time. Our team split into 2 & spent an hour or so praying for each of the individual house members (& their kids) & then gradually made our way out of the refuge to the vans & the long, hot drive through big-city traffic to the next home about an hour away.

When I say long, hot, drive, I mean exactly that. Today was a long, hot, drive. Sweat. Traffic noises. Herky-jerky movements of the vans racing through stop-&-go traffic, weaving in & out of side-streets, alleys, & racing through roundabouts. Sometimes the vans had a little a/c, but mostly it was 4-35: roll down the 4 windows & go 35… or 5, hoping & praying there would be a cross-breeze. It sounds terrible, but it really was just a minor & uncomfortable everyday inconvenience as we made our way through a normal day for our hosts in the hot August summer. 1st world problems.

Second home was our lunch stop. We all sat under a shaded awning at a picnic table in the back yard amidst hip-high weeds & a (safe & secured) dog the size of the Beast of “The Sandlot” fame. The people tasked with lunch grabbed us a collection of deconstructed beef & lamb kabob w/o the skewers & with the veggies (onions & peppers) on the side. There were also bbq lamb chops (so tasty) & plenty of greens for anyone who wanted them. We got to hear one of the local ministry overseers tell the story of the home & how it came to be a part of their network of refuge. Lots of stories, testimonies, & incredible progressions of “I’ve got an idea” to “We need a miracle” to “God has provided & answered.” Truly heart warming & faith building.

Third home was a guys rehab home – 3+ stories tall. We gathered in their open living room, listening awkwardly at times, as we heard stories of redemption & restoration in the face of loss, brokenness, & isolation. Some of the men had been in the home for years & were now functioning as leaders; 1 young man was on his first day, clinging with desperation to the idea of hope; a Living Hope that could possibly offer a different life, one with a future. You could tell that it danced before his eyes, seemingly out of reach, but possibly, just maybe, it could happen. Sobriety. Healing. New ways of living. People. Community. Friends & family. Jesus. Hope?

This pilgrimage took about 5 hot, sticky, sweat-soaked hours; we left the last home & headed back to our hotel to quickly grab supplies & Bibles (no time for a change) & headed to the Saturday service at the church, one attended mostly by the residents of the houses of refuge, though they are open to anyone. (NOTE: there are about 4 public at the church services/week. Maybe more. Some in the local language, some in another.)

Hillsiders would be at home in this – great worship, time for teaching, & opportunities for prayer. Our team spent the last 45 minutes or so of the allotted service time praying for people who wanted to experience a God-breakthrough in their lives; we prayed for stuff like restoration of broken relationships (spouse/kids); for a new way of living w/o needing to be hyper-controlling; to freedom from addiction.

But the thing we prayed for the most often was forgiveness of self. For relief from shame, condemnation, worthlessness & the life. People are people & we have an enemy who specializes in launching onslaught after onslaught of accusations of the wrongs we’ve done, mixing in his lies about our inability to EVER be free of an identity tied to those wrongs, as well as the crushing shame that puts us into a deep, dark hole of a prison from which there is no natural escape.

But there is Jesus. It was beautiful to see the beginning streaks of freedom & hope & life & NO CONDEMNATION take hold of several peoples’ hearts & minds & countenance.

Dinner was on our own; evidently, there is a version of McDonald’s around the corner. Kinda hi-brow & full of people. Once we figured out ordering in the local language, it didn’t take long to get our food, which for this hungry guy, was really good. (Was it good because I was so hungry & tired or was it good because it was a little familiar, or was it truly good because in CA the McD is good? I may never know.)

It’s now Sunday a.m. & I couldn’t sleep, so I’m writing & watching the SFGiants get rolled by the Reds. We head to church around 9 (3 hours or so) & will be taking all of our stuff & checking out of the hotel to start the day of church services (3 of them) to be followed by a trek to our next hotel where we’ll be through the end of this week for our retreat with the pastors & leaders coming from all over CA.

Thank you for praying for us – for endurance each day. For good interactions with the rest of the team (think tired, hot, hangry, & we need Jesus to give grace & to keep choosing to live in it.) Looking forward to an evening (just 12-14 hours away) of rest & recuperation for a bit until things begin in earnest sometime Monday evening.

Increase & abound in love…

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This morning as I read through 1Thessalonians, the following passage stood out to me:

Now may our God & Father Himself & one Lord Jesus, direct our way to you, & may the Lord make you INCREASE & ABOUND in LOVE for ONE ANOTHER & for ALL, as we do for you, so that He may establish your hearts blameless in holiness before our God & Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His saints. 1Thess 3:11-13 – ESV – Emphasis mine

This is something I need; an extra dose even. The love Paul is talking about isn’t a “feeling” or an “emotion;” it’s a choice & an orientation. It’s a promise that says, “This is how I will be towards you. Oriented towards unconditional love, with a willingness & desire to receive people in the same way & same manner Christ receives me.

I’m convicted of lovelessness. Of  (un)intentionally(?) withholding myself from people… which results in distance & separation & an inability to connect SO THAT relationship can develop through shared time, shared space, & shared experience.  In the middle of this, I realize that my challenge in this area is rooted in fear, in rejections I’ve experienced in the past, & in a faulty(?) assumption that a person’s undesirable qualities, attributes, & flaws might be transmittable or rub off on me. That their ‘ick’ would become my own ‘icks.’

Romans 5:6-8 details how Christ loves us & gave Himself for us – before we had our stuff together; before we’d decided to turn & follow Him. While we were still at our worst, most detestable selves… And He chose love… the unconditional, without strings love that goes beyond circumstance & understanding… a covenant promise that declares “This is how things will ALWAYS be between us: built on the foundation of Christ’s love that goes first, that reaches out, that receives us, so that we (I) can be becoming what He made me to be.

Apart from Jesus going first, I can’t do that. We can’t do that.

But in Him, by the power of the Holy Spirit alive & active in my life, I can increase & abound  in love for ONE ANOTHER & for ALL. And in doing so, I am changed, from the inside out, for the better, to be a little more like Jesus is with me.

A real-life story:

30 or so years ago, I led a mission trip to San Quintin, Baja California. One of our main outreaches was to migrant camps; these were temporary homes for migratory workers from Oaxaca & Chiapas regions of Mexico, people who worked in the strawberry (& other) fields, picking the harvests until it was time to move to the next camp & next set of fields.

We encountered huge numbers of mostly unaccompanied kids – between 6 months – 5 years old. Any older than that they were working alongside their parents in the fields. We did games & songs & brought snacks, food supplies, shoes, over-the-counter ‘cheater’ eyeglasses, & any other thing we could possibly think of to make life better.

One particular day while I was participating in games with the kids, I heard a young child (I’m guessing 12-18 months old) crying unconsolably. This wasn’t new & it happened ALL the time; today was different. This child wouldn’t be comforted. They wouldn’t stop crying. They kept wailing & crying & it became obvious this was more than the normal situation we’d grown accustomed to seeing in the camps.

A couple young ladies from our team – early teens (13-16 ish) swept in to see what they could do to console the child & also the child’s ‘guardians,’ most likely older siblings 4-5 years old, charged with keeping their sibling alive during the long days of separation from the parents. After a few minutes I made my way over to where the young ladies (& one of our team who was a nurse) were trying to get to the bottom of the distraught child.  What I saw still sticks in my brain as fresh as if it were happening today.

This child was wearing a ragged tshirt & a diaper… a diaper that had been duct-taped on so that no matter how soiled & full it got, it would stay on. I don’t know HOW LONG it had been on this child, but it was full. It was torn. It was filthy. It was one of the worst sites I’d ever seen in person.

The young ladies & nurse communicated with the siblings what they were doing &, gently & softly, began the cleaning up process on the little one. They worked on her for at least 30 minutes maybe more, removed layers of dirt, waste, & the like. They gently cleaned & disinfected the child’s wounds & rashes, most likely caused by wearing the duct-taped diaper for so long that it did damage to the baby’s skin. So much pain. So much hurt.

And finally, the little one was ‘clean.’ With a fresh diaper on, a new tshirt & some too-large pants to help protect her little legs. And April, one of the young women from our team who’d been a part of the whole cleaning  process, wrapped the child up in her arms & held her close, softly whispering comfort & songs to the child until the cries turned to whimpers & finally, to soft breathing as she fell asleep, disappearing into dreamland.

Afterwards on the way back to our home base, I looked at April. She was filthy, covered all over with the mess that had been on the baby. She didn’t notice, though, because she had been too busy loving & comforting & caring for the child. I can remember thinking that day, (& today),”THAT is what the love of Jesus looks like.” I wept.

Jesus comes to us at our worst, in our mess, & loves us. He’s not diminished or repulsed by our ‘ick,’ but instead He loves us to wholeness & makes us clean.

And He invites us to ‘let our love, HIS love in & through us, INCREASE & ABOUND to one another & to all.

Lord, work in me – I pray you give me the love that is Yours – an unconditional Jesus-like love that transforms me & the ones who receive it.

 

Delivered from bondage – Psalm 107

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Today’s Psalms reading includes Psalm 107. I was especially captivated (no pun intended) by the following verses:

He brought them OUT of darkness & the shadow of death & burst their bonds apart; let them THANK the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of man! For He SHATTERS the doors of bronze & CUTS in two the bars of iron. Psalm 107:14-16 – NIV

The Psalmist describes the incredible deliverance brought about by the Lord, the God who delivers His people from hopeless & impossible situations. God enters into the darkness & rescues His people, bringing them from dark to light, while completely destroying the bonds that held them stuck. His motivation for doing so is not nefarious or self-serving; it is due to His steadfast love & care for His people. The inescapable prison of bronze doors & iron bars are shattered & cut through by the power of God. The result? Deliverance. Freedom. Great joy. Thankfulness. Hope.

I spent about 15 minutes just pondering the ramifications of this Psalm: the significance of a God who saves; delivers; rescues; does the impossible, even to destroying the most impregnable & hopeless prisons the enemy could throw at us.

I imagined myself in bondage, broken down over time to not even consider that there could be a different way to live. My existence is futile & I hope for nothing because I am powerless to affect any change in my circumstances; if I could have gotten myself out of the mess, I’d have done it already. My efforts to free myself only made things worse.

But the Lord God…

That’s our hope. The mighty hand & outstretched arm of the Lord God. The One who does the impossible. The One who conquered death, the grave, & Hell. The One who brings us out of the Darkness through His mighty power. The One who breaks the bonds that have held us fast for who knows how long. The One who crushes the doors & bars of our prison cells with a word.

That’s why no matter how stuck we are, no matter how hopeless our situations seem, no matter how dark our days have become… there is still One we can turn to & know that He will not only HEAR us, He will ANSWER us.

Several times today – much more than a ‘normal day,’ I’ve heard of situations that people are facing that make me shudder. Situations that are terrible & hopeless & dark & complicated & impossible….

And yet, they’re really not. Because of the Lord God, the God who HEARS & the God who ANSWERS.

And when He sets us free, we are TRULY free.

“…Let us thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to us!” 

John Leavy Locke – 1/22/1973 – 6/17/1990

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If I Stand…

This is the 34 year anniversary of my brother Johnny’s death… sometimes, some years, the grief waves are small & manageable, barely tinged with a sting. Others, the waves are wild, unpredictable, & unruly, crashing into me & dashing me around like a rag doll.

This is one of those “wild, unpredictable, & unruly” wave years.

And so I write. I’ve found that the combination of remembering & rehearsing memories – & writing them down – helps mitigate (or at least spread out to a manageable level,) the grief.

Grief. It is a weight that causes shoulders to slump, & backs to bend. It can approach slowly & almost imperceptibly, or it can slam you to the ground. Sometimes carrying grief feels like carrying a 5 gallons jug of water with 3 gallons of water in it; its uneven, unbalanced, & sloshy… making any sort of movement difficult to sustain, as the sudden sloshing of the water can throw you off balance & knock you to your knees. Or face.

I’ve found grief makes people uncomfortable… especially when its been a while since the passing & loss of a loved one. “Time heals all wounds,” is a mantra I’ve had stated to me more than once. Or “…at least you got him for 17 years…” There’s a whole bunch of “at leasts,” people throw out as leaden lifelines, meaning well, but doing nothing except to emphasize their own discomfort & disconnection with the feeling. (I’d recommend checking out Brene’ Brown’s short video on Empathy  – in a few short minutes she offers several great insights on how to come alongside someone without making the pain worse. But I digress.)

I’m thankful for the people in my life who will just sit with me, without having to say something to try to make it better. Who send a text, a note, or a phone call to say, “I’m with you today.” I’ve learned that one of the greatest helps for navigating grief is to feel it, to be where you are, & to acknowledge it as the present reality I’m experiencing. Denying it, ignoring it, burying it, minimizing it, etc… none of those things “fix” the grief… because, I don’t believe, it CAN be fixed. Nor should we try to FIX it.

At this point, I think the best course of action for navigating grief, FOR ME, is to ride it out. To talk to another person who will listen without judgement or excess word-spam. To intentionally make sure to do things that make the day bearable. To get a good work out & take a “mental & emotional health regulating” sauna. To read in the Psalms. And if I feel like crying, I cry.

Yesterday, on the actual anniversary, I wrote (typed out) a long blog with all sorts of things I remember about my brother Johnny – from our childhood up through (& past) his death. And right before I posted it, I had an issue where the whole thing was deleted. Unretrievable.

Instead of trying to re-create it immediately (or breaking things & losing my biscuits,) I decided to take the rest of the day to “be” & then to tackle a new blog today, taking it where it would go. I’ve decided to touch on a couple of the memories here.

I remember…

  • Folding newspapers in the wee hours of the morning. The smell of newspaper ink & rubber bands. The conversations about nothing & everything. Our beloved Giants & 49ers. Spiritual matters. Family, younger brothers, chores, & school.
  • Sharing a room in Carson. We’d had our own rooms in Reno so the forced shared space was a great gift & a time I treasure… especially remembering Johnny’s rants about me talking too long on the phone with theBean.
  • Johnny getting sent home from school on the 1st day of 9th grade for wardrobe infraction. He wore his Jetsons T with multi-colored board-shorts & vintage black-white-red Air Jordans. Carson Jr High had no clue what to do with him. Our great-uncle Bruce used to scratch his head & loudly declare, “That boy dresses like a clown.” The world wasn’t ready for Johnny’s style, & he didn’t care.
  • The mixtapes. Johnny & I spent hours curating our own ancient version of today’s Spotify playlists using our dual cassette boombox… Russ Taff, Steve Taylor, Rich Mullins, DeGarmo & Key, Rez Band, Altar Boys to name a few. The title of this blog IF I STAND, is taken from our favorite Rich Mullins song… something we both declared we wanted to aspire to be. People who STAND.
  • The cancer diagnosis, treatments, & battles… too many & too painful to go into detail again (did that yesterday & it helped. Don’t want to go there today.) I just know that throughout, Johnny didn’t complain or ask, “Why me?” He embraced his life-path as the one God gave to him – kind of like Hananiah, Azariah, & Mishael – aka Shadrach, Meshach, & Abed-nego in the fiery furnace. He knew God could heal him in a moment; but if He didn’t, Johnny was still going to worship Him with all of his heart.
  • The last days at home, where Johnny’s body betrayed him & he weakened. We talked around his home-hospital bed. I got up to leave & he said, “I love you brother.” And I kept walking up the stairs, echoing back to him, “I love you too.”  The pain & intimacy of the moment seemed too much to bear & went & stood outside by my car in the gravel at the top of the driveway, weeping, asking God to heal my brother. And I KNEW that He was there; I could sense His tangible presence. And in a way, His sadness too. But there wouldn’t be a healing this side of heaven. So many times I wished I’d gone back downstairs & just sat with Johnny some more instead of leaving. It is one of my life’s great regrets, & was a great source of pain & sorrow for me for many years.
  • The phone call from my mom in the late 4 a.m. hour of 6/16; the blur of the day(s) following. The memorial service. The songs. The eulogy. The people who came. The numbness.
  • Having to move forward with “normal” life again. The weird things people would say to try to make it better, failing miserably. The religious pontifications people would spout thinking they were providing answers, all the while filled with so much crap & lack of awareness that it was physically painful. Still fires me up a little. (Ok, a lot.)
  • Our family unit moving forward, albeit with a hole in it. There was a big gap where in a different world Johnny’s wife & kids would have taken their place in our hearts & my kids would have had cousins near their own ages. Birthdays & holidays & anniversaries & life. We’re still growing, & still moving forward. And still, there’s a hole.

One more thing – remember the “life’s great regret” I mentioned a minute ago? About 10 years after Johnny’s death, I had a vivid dream where I encountered Johnny in a vividly colored, almost too bright to see place… I had to squint to see, but he didn’t. He was older than I last remembered, somewhere between 18 & 35ish, the picture of health, with fair skin & ruddy cheeks, his signature flowing mullet (he pulled it off so well,) & he radiated LIFE. I embraced him for what seemed to be an eternity & then we talked. He told me stories that were wonderful & that are just at the edge of my memory today, things that feel like a promise of what is to come. I expressed to him my great regrets at not coming back downstairs & sitting with him, & rehearsed the fact that I love  him. He hugged me again & gave me reassurance that it was more than ok. The pain & regret I’d carried for years melted that moment, & have never returned. And then he had to go; he turned to me & smiled & headed out & I woke up.

It was healing & restful for the soul. I’m not sure how to define what happened, so I won’t. I just know my burdens were lifted.

Miss you Johnny. So much. Save me spot; I’ll be seeing you eventually.

Take 10 & get some sun: Embrace rhythm & rest

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More often than I’d like to admit, I’ve exited my office at the end of a workday without having stopped work (study, in-person meetings, phone calls, Zooms, & the like) for anything other than bathroom breaks occasioned by the steady intake of “just one more cup of coffee.” 

Busy days. Full days. I have them. We have them. Hard work, perseverance, & the lot are important.

But so is stopping. Taking a minute (or 10) to regroup, reorient, take stock of life (values, priorities, practices, needs) to realign/readjust to make sure we’re staying congruent with our purpose. And not just our ‘work purpose.’ Our life purpose.

I recognize that my nose-to-the-grindstone life-pattern is part of how I’m wired; it’s also a symptom of my anxiety, worry, & desire to attempt to control the outcomes for my life. Without saying it out loud or admitting it to myself, it’s like I believe “If I just work hard, take care of business, & don’t slack/don’t quit, then everything will take care of itself & I will experience Good Life & have Enough & be Okay.”

But even if I don’t say it out loud & I only type it on my MacBook, it still shouts out to me, loudly with feeling, that I better keep the proverbial plates spinning. 

And I tempt myself to forget that control is an illusion & that much of my life that I think is under my control is not. 

Working in the same space as theWeez is a gift to me. She has a way of reminding me of my humanity, my needs to STOP, BE, & realign. TheWeez has every reason to have a busier life & schedule than I do: she is a wife & mom to 3 feral children between the ages of 3-6; she works full time as a preschool administrator; she’s a student midwife, on-call at least 5 times a month to go & assist with catching babies (the mom’s do the delivery; the midwifes do the catching. It’s a thing.)

And yet – just about every morning & every afternoon, on my way through the office & foyer to the bathroom for a pitstop & coffee refueling run, I will see her sitting outside on the concrete paver benches against our building, eyes closed, soaking in the sun. 

I have to confess – the first dozen times I saw her, I was jealous; I WISHED I could go join her for a few moments.

But I couldn’t. I was busy. 

So I went back to my office, filled with regret & yet doing nothing about it.

Until I did.

I went outside & sat next to her on the bench. Soaked up 10 minutes of sun. Talked about nothing & something with theWeez. Noticed how the warmth of the bench soaked into my bones. How the sun embraced my face & filled me with a renewed sense of vigor & life. 

When I eventually made my way back inside I knew I’d be back. I couldn’t wait to do it again.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve made it a habit, a practice to go outside (even when its windy & coldy) & sat on the bench, facing the sun (or where it should be) 2x/day, for about 10 minutes each time. 

I’m noticing changes in my energy patterns; my sense of well-being. I’m enjoying time with my daughter. I’m enjoying time with ME. The 10 minute sun breaks are life-giving, possibly because they serve as stark reminders that life is more than work & busyness. And that when I’m stopping & resting & (trying to) embrace a life rhythm without anxiety & unhealthy driven-ness, I’m doing something for me & for the people who I will interact with for the rest of the day. 

I love it. 

Take 10 & get some sun. Embrace a taste of rhythm & rest in the middle of your day. 

You’re worth the time investment.

Matthew 6:25-34

 

 

“It’s your choice…”

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“It’s your choice.”

Years ago, a German friend confronted me in the middle of one of my “minor” fits of anger using just those words.

“It’s your choice.”

His admonition didn’t alleviate the slow burn I was experiencing; it made it worse. He obviously didn’t understand that I was JUSTIFIED in my anger, & that it was BECAUSE a whole series of things had gone WRONG & I was DISAPPOINTED & when I tried to share my disappointment using my WORDS, my wife (seemingly, to me in my agitated slow burn of a fit) DISREGARDED my (righteous) frustration. It was like she MADE me escalate my anger.

A disclaimer: It wasn’t one of those loud, visibly angry episodes; rather, it was my preferred kind of fit… kind of storming around with a furrowed brow, abrupt movements, fierce silence… I was mad, after all. And I was justified in being mad; all the things that hadn’t gone the way I WANTED them to go MADE me mad. Not “feeling” heard made me even MADDER.

At this rate of simmer & feeding the fires of indignation, I could have a full blown rage going pretty quick. Here it comes.

My friend interrupted my huffy-puffy-ness with a question: “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”

So I let him have it… both barrels of explanation & indignation at all the things that were going WRONG, all the areas I was FRUSTRATED, all the things other people were DOING to antagonize me…

He listened for a minute & then… shrugged his shoulders, made a disinterested (to me) expression, & told me, “It’s your choice.”

And then he walked away. Leaving me speechless. I couldn’t believe it. How could he SAY it was my CHOICE? I was RESPONDING. I was FEELING.

I was, I was, I was… what?

…I was choosing to give myself over to stupid anger. I was feeding it with bits of indignation & throwing the fuel of misunderstanding on as well.. I was working myself up towards a rage under the guise of something happening TO me, completely ignoring that the response was coming from a force of will & my chosen action.

The rebuke of my friend turned into a time of soul-searching. I couldn’t help but hear the whispered conviction of the Holy Spirit, emphasizing, firmly & gently, that this response that I’d conditioned myself to accept as normal & ok & NOT my fault (or my choice), was actually 100% me. It WAS my choice to respond in anger. It WAS my choice to allow the offense to escalate. It WAS my choice to engage in self-pity. It WAS my choice.

Which meant…

I could CHOOSE differently.

Maybe not in my own strength & abilities; its not an easy thing to undue & break out of past patterns of behavior, especially those with such a strong dopamine hit of self-righteous pity & anger. But I could ask Jesus to do a work in me, by the power of the Holy Spirit – to CHOOSE something different. To still FEEL & PROCESS, but not to give myself over to self-indulgently negative, self-focused pity parties, masked with the ugliness of an on-the-edge anger that threatened (or at least made noise about) blowing up & really losing it.

That was A turning point. Not necessarily THE turning point, but A turning point. From that day forward, I would hear my friend’s rebuke, flavored with extra by the Holy Spirit: “It’s your choice.” And because it was my choice, I could CHOOSE differently. Consistently. Choices that led to stronger relationship with my spouse & kids. Choices that would foster relationship, trust, & healthy predictability with others.

And that is still my prayer – that I CHOOSE well, in each moment where I am tempted to fall back into the well worn rut of what is now a 20 year ago path. I don’t want to fall back into that behavior, & neither do I want to lose ground that was gained with a lot of blood, sweat, & tears.

It’s your choice…

Obedience vs. Sacrifice, God’s guidance: musings on a Monday…

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When I started pastoring @ Hillside in January 2000, I decided to intentionally incorporate listening to & meditating on good Bible teaching messages from a few “chosen mentors,” many of whom had no idea that they were mentoring me through their teaching (I hadn’t even met most of them at the time). Due to the tasks I had to complete on most Mondays (administration, office work, errands) I decided to make Monday my main listening day. Most of the time, I just listened to the previous day’s messages posted on the somewhat fledgling interwebs from Ralph Moore @ Hope Chapel Kaneohe-Hawaii & Daniel Brown @ the Coastlands-Aptos CA. I’m so thankful for the many hours of good stuff I was subjected to, listening through the speakers on my computer, as I tackled mundane tasks every week.

With the proliferation of Bible message podcasts (estimated to be about 60,000 in the US at this time) its gotten easier to find Bible messages, but I really don’t KNOW about many of the people speaking or the churches they are a part of… I’ve had a few “swing & a miss” moments where I started a podcast at random & got about 20 minutes (or a couple episodes in) & found it to be wacky or “unique (read: non-orthodox) theology.” I’ve also most connected with churches led by pastors with a similar worldview & mission to what I have; doesn’t mean I don’t listen to people different than me: I do. It does mean it often feels like a waste of time to listen to people talking from leading a church with an attractional, program, & church building-driven model of ministry when that is the opposite of what I believe we (me & the Hillsiders) are supposed to do.

NOTE: Reading back over the previous paragraph makes me think it is a digression from what I was wanting to actually write about, but I decided to leave it in there, just because.

All that to say – I am re-embracing the practice of listening to good Bible messages; some are current (check out our friends at LIFE Church Chico or Modesto First Foursquare, to name a few – I’ve got more suggestions if you’re interested. Hit me up in the comments) & some are vintage. Like from the archives of my childhood.

Today’s message was from 1978 & it is by my mentor Jerry Cook, taken from a Sunday service from when he was pastoring East Hill Church in Gresham, OR. I was given the mp3 access to about 30 of his teachings by his daughter Christy in 2022, & I’ve listened to just about all of them at least once; some as many as 3x.  This is one I’ve listened to several times – its called “Abraham #1: Genesis 12 & 13” & in it Jerry talks extensively about Abraham’s obedience to God’s call to him:

“Go from your country & your kindred & your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, & I will bless you & make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, & him who dishonors you I will curse & in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” So Abram went…  Genesis 12:14a

This is where the OBEDIENCE vs. SACRIFICE in the title comes in, especially as related to God’s guidance. (After all – this is the story of Abraham going without knowing WHERE he was being sent, only knowing the WHY – for God to bless him & bless all the families of the earth THROUGH him.)  Some highlights for me:

  • God wants our OBEDIENCE more than He wants our SACRIFICES. (You can read some of the biblical backing for this principle HERE in the story of God’s rejection of King Saul from 1Samuel 13-15.) There’s nothing God needs us to DO for him or to GIVE to Him or to SACRIFICE for Him; He wants us to learn to OBEY Him, to follow His commands.
  • There are many people who are willing to sacrifice but who aren’t willing to follow simple obedience patterns. God is not impressed with nor needs our sacrifices; He wants our hearts & won’t settle for less.
  • It’s in the act of our OBEDIENCE to God’s commands that His GUIDANCE comes… as obedience is a forerunner & key ingredient to receiving God as Lord & Master of our lives.
  • The kind of obedience God calls those who would be His people to isn’t mindless or driven by blind faith; it is rooted in faith in the proven character of God.
  • Sometimes we won’t know exactly or specifically what God is doing in/through/around us until we take the first steps of obedience to what He’s already spoken to us about.
  • Something Jerry closed with: “Ok, Abraham, you don’t know WHERE you’re going, but that’s ok, because you are SAFE with Me.” I want to lean into this one more & more.

As I’ve been musing on this this afternoon, other Bible passages come to mind, like from Matthew 28:18-20, the Great Commission, where Jesus emphasizes the “teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you” part of the Message from verse 20.

Simple patterns of OBEDIENCE > all the SACRIFICES we can make.

To me, a core truth from this seems to be: Want guidance & direction from God? Then obey/put into practice what you already know God has spoken to you about.

And as you take steps of obedience, God will reveal Himself more & more. And even if/when you don’t know 100% (or 20%) where you’re going, you can be sure that you are safe with Him.

Some musings from the last week of 2023 – Part 1 – Enough

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I’m mostly off for the last week of the year, that ethereal time & space between Christmas & New Years Day, where it seems the actual real days off (or celebrated days off) outnumber the days on. And in the spirit of that, I’ve been purposing to do more musing, to end this year called 2023 with some things that jump out to me from my thinking timFes. Don’t know how many of these I’ll do before 1/1/2024, but I’m-a-fixing to do a couple.

I’m noticing the older I get, the more I feel tempted to attempt to accumulate stuff… to try to make sure that there is enough. Which made me push back a bit on that word — ENOUGH — to define it. To explain it. To answer the question, “How much IS enough?”

It seems like the only answer I get is “just a little more.”

I get several emails a day (which I never signed up for) that all seem to have the same theme:

“Be very afraid, & scramble to protect your assets because someone is coming for you & what you have. But if you would only do what WE say, you’ll be protected, you’ll be provided for, you’ll be fine.” 

This afternoon I’ve been rehearsing one of my life Scriptures (its actually a life Scripture for any/all who want to be a disciple of Christ, but I digress…) It is Luke 9:23-25

And He (Jesus) said to all: If anyone would come after Me, let him DENY himself, & TAKE UP his cross DAILY, & FOLLOW Me. For whoever would SAVE his life will LOSE it, but whoever LOSES his life for My sake will SAVE it. For what does it profit a man if he GAINS the whole world & LOSES or FORFEITS himself?” (emphasis mine)

From this I’m reminded that my daily goal isn’t the preservation &/or accumulation of stuff so I have ENOUGH… my goal is to be a faithful disciple of Christ. I know that if/when I follow (OBEY) God’s instructions for me in every area I know to follow (OBEY), I am walking in His way… in which I experience His provision, care, & blessing.

I also want to be a good steward of what He’s provided, for me & theBean & our family, while at the same time not getting caught up in the chase to attempt to store up treasures for me/us HERE at the expense of storing up treasures in heaven.  Some of the Scriptures I rehearse to keep my head straight are:

  • Psalm 37:3 – Trust in the Lord & do good. Dwell in the land & enjoy safe pasture.
  • Psalm 37:25 – I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.
  • Philippians 4:19 – And my God will supply all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus. 
  • 1Timothy 6:6-10 – But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, & we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food & clothing, we will be content with that. Those who want to get rich fall into temptation & a trap & into many foolish & harmful desires that plunge people into ruin & destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith & pierced themselves with many griefs.
  • 1John 2:15-17 – Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, & the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world & its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.