Deep Sorrow and a Hollow Heart

Maybe it's from having just finished Ecclesiastes this morning that I find myself so burdened.  The heaviness in my heart is real, and how to proceed is abstract.  It's easy to look around and see the Church--that is the Bride of Christ, not the local building--failing in so many ways.  In a sample of a hundred churches, one hundred of them will be filled with problems.  Strife among brothers and sisters.  Gossiping.  Hatred.  Pride.  Lust.  These are to be expected, as we're all still human and not yet made perfect, but the fact that there doesn't seem to be any desire to change is sickening.

Last night I was involved in a regional church meeting.  Between the two counties involved, there were 56 churches represented, with 266 voters present.  The issue was to decide whether or not to kick a church (Journey Fellowship) out of the association.  Why?  Because their building is used by the local PFLAG group.  That's it.  There is no relationship between the church and PFLAG other than the fact that the church allows their facility to be open and available.  In effect, this church is saying Welcome, we love you, and we don't judge.  In fact, the church goes on to profess "radical unconditional acceptance," something that many churches look down on.

Considering that the meeting even took place, I felt like the situation was already lose-lose.  Instead of brothers and sisters of Jesus standing up and loving on one another, there was a meeting to disfellowship a church because they were loving on people.  So in a crowd of 350+ people, displayed to media from here to far, I watched the Church fight*.  It was civil, yes, but it felt to me an underlying wave of hatred and judgment.  Speakers voiced their affirmation of the motion (to remove the church) and then speakers voiced their opposition (to keep the church in).  Back and forth this went, passionate words flying from both sides, maintaining rules of order, borderline chaos, people "Amen-ing" and shaking their heads.

The call to vote came.  Oddly, in order to vote we had to vote whether or not we could even commence with voting.  Once that passed, someone called for secret ballot.  This vote failed, and we then proceeded to stand up and cast our votes publicly.  Of the 266 voters, 242 voted to disfellowship this church.  The only ones that voted to keep them in was the representatives from the accused church and four of us from my church (so the other four from my church either didn't vote or voted in favor). 

Then, awkwardly, the order of the meeting called for ballot tabulating time, because I suppose it was thought the vote would be secret ballot.  So during this time, we sat uncomfortably aware of the results while pretending that we didn't know.  A man led the congregation in a song, singing "People Need the Lord," and the words sounded hollow and fake.  People need the Lord unless you're gay.  People need the Lord but not all.  People need the Lord but find Him outside the church.  People need the Lord let's pretend like we love each other.  People need the Lord let's all judge our brothers.  People need the Lord....

The meeting adjourned soon after, people spreading like ants funneling through a crack in the wall.  We talked to the reps from the now disfellowshipped church, telling them we appreciated what they were doing, offering prayer and encouragement. 

This whole things is deeply disappointing on so many levels.  It shows how fragile our Church is.  It shows how far we've fallen.  The fact that a church cannot have a support group is ridiculous.  How is PFLAG any different than AA or any other accountability group**?  I'm of the opinion that people don't like it when sins are public.  We prefer keeping them to ourselves, sitting comfortably in our pews and silently looking down on everybody else.  We're a white, middle-classed church, born to outdated traditions and indoctrinated with prejudices.  We don't like it when our customs are rocked or when our cultures change.  Thus, we're a dying, stagnant Church.  We fail at reaching the lost because we can't get over their sins, all the while ignoring our own.  We don't reach out and help people because we're lazy, uncaring, and satisfied with our own salvation.  Last I checked, Jesus spent most of His time on earth with the less-than-reputable people, the whores and liars, the outcasts and abused.  Instead, we want air-conditioned buildings, thirty-minute sermons, and clean and fake members.  We don't want real.  We want facades.

This is the state of Christianity today.  It's to a point where a new word needs to be used for those of us that follow Jesus Christ and His teachings.  The Church is called to love everyone, to reach the unsaved, to make disciples, to spread God's Gospel to the ends of the earth.  How can we do that when our church's doors are closed?  When the doors of the church are closed, the hearts of its members are, too.  And if Christians are a close-hearted people, we've removed Jesus from our beliefs, and if that's the case, then I guess I'm not a Christian.

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*I imagine the Bride as an abused, delusional, schizophrenic, bi-polar bigot that spreads Her legs for anyone other than Her Husband.  She's married to a Savior that died for everyone--chiefly Her--and yet She spends Her time with the World and Its thinking.  She has a Husband that embodies love, but She prefers a world that spits on Her and slaps Her around.

**Just because a church building is used by a group does not mean that the church adheres to the group's philosophy.  However, perception is everything, and people perceive that since Journey is allowing PFLAG to use its building that they believe all of PFLAG's tenets, regardless whether that's the case or not. 

Birth & Rejection

And so it is we find ourselves back in the machine, barreling through tubes and squeezing through cogs, along once again for the ride.  A week away afforded rest and family bonding time, to be sure, though it was but a second in its lasting.  Life as a dad has been wonderful so far, and I'm sure it'll only get better.  Avonlea has already peed on my hand, as well as the couch, and it didn't phase me one bit.  Had it been the dogs, I would've been perturbed, but my daughter doesn't generate ire yet.

Much of the week was tiring, learning to semi-sleep and still function firing all cylinders.  This is still a work in progress.  We also had many visitors, and while this is a blessing (many brought delicious foodstuffs), it's also very tiring.  One night we found ourselves upstairs and abed 'ere nine in PM, a thing most unheard. 

As for the birth, the word that keeps coming to mind is surreal.  Keisha had been having high blood pressure, though two lab tests showed no preeclampsia.  As it were, we arrived at a routine appointment two Thursdays ago at 2:30 to have another round of measurings and what not.  Fluid levels were low, blood pressure was high, and the doctor decided to ship us out to the hospital for monitoring (nothing to worry about, normal, happens all the time, don't worry about going by the house).  So at 4pm-ish we walk through the doors of Labor & Delivery, looking to be hooked up and Keisha monitored.  Bloods taken.  Pee, too.  Lab results done in the post-haste.  And come 5o'clock-ish, the doctor says that things aren't well and that Keisha's gonna need an emergency C-section (a thing unheard of!)  This was not in the plans, as Keisha intended to go au natural, and my sweet, lovely, and perfect wife freaked out.*  Yet, after we understood that the longer she went with Avonlea inside, the greater the chance for a stillborn birth, she decided a C-section fit the bill.  And so I was given scrubs, Keisha was given drugs, and we were rushed to the O.R.  And, lo, at 6:02, a daughter was born.  I shall never forget it.  I'd say it was the insanely dry air that caused tears to sting my eyes, but I'd be lying, and that I am not.

Avonlea arrived, crying, peeing, and the world dipped heavily.  I saw my wife's insides, all purple and red and blue, as the backdrop to my new baby, upheld by the good doctor's hands.  Avonlea was beautiful.  And then we got a quick picture and I was rushed to the nursery with the babe, where soon we were reunited with Keisha for permanent.

The hospital stay was three nights, and it passed quickly.  We arrived at Stewartland, where the dogs curiously sniffed the new arrival, and life resumed.  The world was wonderful, and it's been ever since.

As it were, something happened to me the very day we arrived home, and then again two nights later.  Something that hit me hard and shook my faith in the world a little bit.  Something that honestly put a wretched damper on my glorious week, sickening me to the gut and wrapping against my faith.  In short, and without going into much, I was rejected.  I was going to be a deacon at church, but in order to do that, one must be questioned.  My answers were apparently too liberal/immature on the matter of alcohol, tithing, and a qualification of deacons, though I based all of my beliefs on my understanding of the bible.  Scripture doesn't prohibit drinking, only drunkenness.  Tithing is required, but to the Lord, as I see it, not necessarily the local church (excepting the OT).  And deacons, well, it says plainly a man of one wife, as it were, and that's enough for me.**

This rejection hurt.  A lot.  Not so much that I was found lacking, but that these three issues were enough to cause such dissension among the deacon body.  Romans 14:17 says "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit."  Jesus said to love God, love people (obviously paraphrased), and that's the important thing.  How can we as a church hope to reach the lost when we're too concerned with these less-than-important things?  Sure, they matter, to a degree, but they're not issues to base a foundation on.  On Jesus and His love, these are foundations. 

While my heart still grieves over this, I've prayed for guidance and understanding.  I've prayed for unity in the church like never before.  I've prayed for a loving and forgiving heart, one that holds no grudges (I thank God I've never been one to do so) and one willing to serve as Jesus.  I don't have to be a deacon to serve God.  Amen.

So, yeah, an unimaginable wonderful and tragic week.  What a great juxtaposition, eh?

In the end, the birth of Avonlea trumps anything.  Like eternal life will always trump out any of life's problems, simply holding my daughter against my chest works miracles for an aching heart.  My daughter is beautiful, healthy, and fierce.  She's got Stewart blood in her, olde and magickal.  She's a noble, as her da.  And we bow to no man but the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 

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*freaked out probably gives it justice.  She was definitely upset. 

**I've obviously simplified this.  The interrogation spanned three hours over the two evenings.  It likely was the most intense thing I've ever been involved in.

The Meaning of It All, being chiefly an article about Love and Commitment

I can't get Jars of Clay "Love Song for a Savior" out of my head.  The refrain is so simple, but so profound, when offered to Jesus.

I want to fall in love with You
I want to fall in love with You
I want to fall in love with You
I want to fall in love with You

Really, what else could I want?  Is there any other that I'd rather fall in love with?  No, there is no one but God.

This song has me thinking back to a few memory verses ago.  Deuteronomy 10:12,13 has Moses asking the Israelites what the LORD requires of them.  He lists five things.

1. To fear the LORD
2. To walk in all His ways
3. To love Him
4. To serve Him with all their hearts and all their souls
5. To keep the commandments and statutes given to them

Do you see #3?  God requires that His people love Him.  And even though these verses are explicitly to the Israelites, they carry over to all of us that are now children of the Promise.  God still requires these five things of us if we are following Him. While there could be commentary on each of these points, I want to focus in particular on #3, especially with its relation to the Jars of Clay song.

The truth of the command--to love Him--is simple; the actuality of it is more involved.  How do we love Him?  How do we love anybody?  Can we be forced to love somebody or something?  No, our love is an intentional choice that we give away.  It is the greatest gift we have available to give.  We have the option to either love or not to love anything, from our spouses to our jobs to our children to the stranger on the corner.  We can choose to not show love, and our love is often conditional.

God's love for us, though, is unconditional, and this is a choice he intentionally made.  He could have loved us conditionally, punishing us for our sins or turning His back to us for our pride.  He would have been perfectly just in doing so, but that's not His character.  For some crazy reason, God has promised unconditional love on us, and this blows my mind.  I don't deserve His love, yet He gives to me at all times (Lamentations 3:22,23).  He renews His mercies every morning for us.  Despite the fact that we're all failures in life and we've all sinned, God still chooses to love us.

So the question is if God commands us to love Him, then why wouldn't we?  How could we not love someone who unconditionally loves us?  Why would we want to turn away from that love?  (I think it's because of ignorance or self-pride, but that's neither here nor there.)  Somehow, perhaps it's the confines of this flesh, our bodies do not want to love God but want to love the world.  This epic tragedy is the gaping problem of many Christians, as well as the lost.  There is no love in the heart for God.

If we are in love with God then we will show it.  We will proclaim our love to Him (through worship and praise and thanksgiving).  We will show off our love, like the young couple that walks hand in hand and dripping with undeniable chemistry.  We will talk about our love, to the point that it could very well sicken those around us.  But the amazing part is that we can enjoy this relationship with other people that are in love with the Creator of the Everything. 

The love of God and for God is not an exclusive love, but an open, free-for-all bottomless tank.  God loves us so much and wants a relationship with us.  He gave us His word.  He gave us the Spirit.  He gave us the blood of His Son.  He made us His children, giving us the right to speak to him (via prayer).  We have everything available to make a meaningful relationship with Him, but so many of us choose not to do it.

How is that even sane?  I don't know.  I know I have dropped the ball of the relationship innumerable times, turning from Him and pursuing my own selfish desires.  There have been people I have not shown love to, and that is painful looking back.  Still, when I look up, God's there for me, waiting with a cross-shaped hug to embrace me and dote on me.

With the starting of Lent (a liturgical season I have never practiced) I have committed myself to actively pursuing God for the next 46 days.  I will be fasting and praying and reading His word religiously (hahahaha! puns!), desperately seeking to draw nearer to the Savior who gave/gives everything to me.  I want to fall in love with Him every possible moment of my life.  There is no one else I would rather love.

My Heart Overflows, My Heart Grieves

I'm finding myself more and more overwhelmed by God's grace every day.  My heart yearns to know Him more.

Words want to pour from my mind, through my fingertips as I type, proclaiming Christ as King, exalting Him above all others, but all the words I have to give don't even scratch the surface of God's majesty.

Why does God love me?  Why wasn't I wiped out of existence and sentenced to hell after my first sin?  Why does He continue to love me even though I continue to fail Him?  Why is His grace renewed every morning?

I recently found a list of "fighter verses" recommended to memorize.  I know a few verses of scripture, but nowhere near as many as I should.  I started this memorization program to equip myself with biblical truth, to hide God's word in my heart so that I might not sin, to be wise in Him, not in the world.  Memorizing scripture is not an easy task, and too often I hear (from my own lips, even) "I don't have a good memory" or "I don't have enough time." 

Bull crap.  Pure and simple.  Inexcusable excuses.  Lies from satan to keep you out of the bible, defeated, burdened, and ensnared.

My heart grieves for our world.  How can we profess love of God and abstain from spending time with Him?  Do you love your kids?  Do you want them to spend more time with you?  Does it not break your heart when they don't?  This is the same for God.  The chief end for man is to glorify God!  It's why we were created, and yet where do our hearts lie?

They lie in routine, in comfortable pews and lazy idleness.  They lie, ultimately, in our own selfish behaviors.  I am convinced that those* that do not follow Jesus choose not to follow Him because of how they see so many "Christians" acting.  To be a Christian is to follow Christ, acting as He would, loving God and loving people.  And how do you love someone?  You spend time with them.  You intentionally invest time a relationship, going above and beyond normal protocol and acting unexpectedly, oftentimes against personal preferences and certainly into the realms of awkwardness/uncomfortableness.

My heart grieves for our dying generations, for people choosing to pursue selfish desires instead of selfless ones.  It hurts to know that there are lost people that do not know the true message of Christ and they're dying without Him.  It hurts me even more to know that there are people that do know the true message, and yet they're too self-absorbed/apathetic to do anything about it.  And, most of all, it hurts me to know there are Christians--followers of Jesus the Christ--that aren't acting as a follower of the Christ.

Matthew 7:21-23 is a sobering passage of scripture. 

21 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. 22 On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ 23 And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’

It's time to wake up and start acting like Jesus.  It's time to start loving God and following His commandments, which Jesus broke down to two: Love God, Love People.  Otherwise, like Deuteronomy 7:9,10 says:

9 Know therefore that the Lord your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations, 10 and repays to their face those who hate him, by destroying them. He will not be slack with one who hates him. He will repay him to his face.

My heart breaks for the world, yet it overflows with the rich promises of God, that to those that love Him and follow Him, He will never leave or forsake us.

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*To be clear, a Christian** is not one who judges, not one who condemns, not one who looks down on, not one who hates, not one who is prideful, not one who holds grudges and forgives not.  These actions are not in accordance with a Jesus-shaped person.  The Christ loved everyone and spent His ministry with the poor and broken people of Israel.  If we're emulating Jesus and following His words, these actions ought not be in our lives.

Know, then, those of you that have been hurt or turned-off from Christianity because of these types of actions (and more) that not all who follow Jesus act this way and I apologize for the poor behavior of my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.  I pray that you've not been too jaded to give Jesus another chance.

**That's not to say that a Christian won't display these actions, but doing so is sinful, but to be human is to be in a fallen world of sin.  Only the love and sanctification of Jesus can overcome our sinful selves, and sanctification is a lifelong process.  Daily we are to die and take up the cross and follow Jesus, fighting the fight and overcoming the world.

Coffee, a Puzzle, and An Unexpected Rant

It all starts with coffee.  Fresh ground coffee.  The kind of stuff that wants to be imbibed immediately.  Usually it is, paired with some 1% milk to give it a boost of flavor and distinction.  The rest is hermetically sealed in my less-than-good stainless steel thermos and carted off to work, where I'm forced to quickly down two or three more cups if I want anything resembling hot coffee.  Typically the first cup is fine.  Enjoyable.  Savored.  I'm doing good and the world is going well.  Then I pour the second cup.  My mouth is not ready for more brew, nor are my stomach and bladder, but they're gonna take it whether they like it or not.  I wind up regretting this choice almost every time.  Halfway through the cup I'm sick of coffee.  I'm sick of how it tastes and how it makes me feel.  I'm sick of the bitterness left on my tongue and the yearning for the bathroom.  I usually just throw the dregs down in one quick shot, wincing and convulsing--literally shuddering sometimes.  And then it's over.

I find myself wondering why.  Probably because I paid for the stuff and I'm danged well gonna get my money out of it.  But really, is physical and emotional anguish worth the few paltry dollars spent on coffee beans?  I don't know.  Perhaps I should invest in a new thermos, one that will keep stuff hotter for longer than one hour.  Then I would have all day to enjoy the rich tasting aroma that makes coffee a favorable drink.  Until then, I'll stick with my failed thermos.*

For any wordsmiths out there, yesterday's puzzle (from my daily puzzle calendar**) was quite challenging.  I'll repeat it here below.

None of the answers below contain an A, E, I, N, T, or S - six of the most commonly used letters in English.  Answers 1 to 5 are nine letters long; answer 6 is eleven letters and is the longest common word that lacks any of the six letters mentioned above.

1. Groundhog
2. Never-failing, as a method
3. Machinery that runs as a timepiece
4. Study of Earth's water
5. Nonsense; hogwash
6. Green pigment in photosynthesis

Good luck.  I was particularly happy with #4 since I took a lot of classes in this during my college years, and my job is heavily involved in it.  This calendar has been pretty fun and occasionally challenging. 

So Sunday is the Super Bowl.  This is the first year I've actually ever sat down and watched football intentionally, and I have to say, I'm looking forward to the game.  Granted the team I was rooting for (Colts!) didn't make it, but still, I'll be interested to just watch and experience the Big Game.  Service has been moved for the Youth to someone's house and I've been asked to help lead a little worship service at the start of the festivities.  A year ago I would've said no, no way, find somebody else, heck no, no, No.  But I simply said sure, no problem this year.

I'm astonished at how far I've come.  And lest anyone think I'm boasting, it's all for the glory of Jesus Christ, that God will be exalted and worshiped.  Without His help I would be nothing.  I see my guitar playing and my singing as gifts that God has blessed me with, and while I think I play and sing merely mediocre, I now no longer care.  I do it not to be heard or seen, but that the Spirit can move and lift up the name of Jesus and that the Youth will grow in their faith and will have no fears when serving God.  After all, a follower of Christ living in fear is only defeated by themselves. 

I used to say no because I was scared and timid.  Stepping up was uncomfortable and God had other people that could do the work.  But the more I read the Bible (especially Matthew), the more I realized that Jesus called us to be uncomfortable, to be in awkward situations.  It takes faith to step out into awkwardness, an attitude of the heart that says God, I trust in You that You know what You're doing.  And in that faithfulness, whether we see any fruit of our labors or not, His will is working.  It is this that has led me to stepping out and stepping up.  Too many "Christians" are sitting comfortably in their traditions, in their pews, in their hearts, that they've grown lazy and stagnant in their faith.  As the adage says, "If you're not moving forward, you're going backwards."  That's very true with God.  He hates lukewarm; He spews it from His mouth.

This same sentiment extends well outside the doors of Christianity.  If you're going to commit to something, commit, don't just sign up and stay uninvolved.  Who wants a benchwarmer on their team?  Or an occasional paladin?  No one.  I suppose it's our fallen human nature that wants to stay complacent and lazy, but this must be bypassed in order to live a life worth living.  It's easy to come home and plop down in front of the tv or pick up a book.  Get involved in your own world.  Ignore the rest.  That selfish attitude is simple.  Everybody's good at that.  But that's not living life.

It takes work, uncomfortableness, awkwardness, and effort to truly live.  How does a family grow if you give it no time?  Or how does a community grow, or any other relationship?  Relationships are a fundamental part of a functioning, meaningful, committed life, be it with friends, family, church members, or strangers on the street.  And the only way to grow relationships is by getting up and stepping out.  It's like in KOTOR 2: "Apathy is death."

.......I don't know what happened.  I was going one way and I ended up with a rant.  Sorry.  So, uh, happy Thursday?  I've got a new flash fic piece for tomorrow that I'm really proud of.  Hope you read it and enjoy it. After I read it to Keisha she said "you are one twisted person."  That's the kind of response I like.

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*The thermos used to work, but due to my negligence (i.e., it not being dishwasher safe), I ruined the rubber seal, so the thermos seeps out heat.  Something something thermodynamics...

**This comes from THE MENSA PUZZLE CALENDAR 2011.  Not sure who came up with the riddle or I'd give them credit.  The box the calendar came in says by Mark Danna and Fraser Simpson, so I'll give them credit.

Mere Churchianity, a Review

I had never heard of the Internet Monk prior to receiving this book, nor had I heard of Michael Spencer, the name he went by outside the blogosphere. No, I chose this book for two reasons: One, the title, Mere Churchianity, was clever and Two, I was interested in this so-called "Jesus-Shaped Spirituality." So the book arrived, I discovered it was published posthumously, and I dove in to see what this was all about.

To say I was immediately hooked would be misleading, though I was. For one, the author told a story at a Dairy Queen on Hartford Road, which, coincidentally, there was a DQ on a Hartford Rd just a few miles from my house. The story was a sad, indicative reflection of many modern youth groups and how they react outside of the church. But the sincerity of Michael Spencer's voice was heard: there was a problem with our churches.

A few pages later I discovered that Spencer grew up in the town I now call home, a small(ish) city in Western Kentucky. To make things even more interesting, his family still abides in these parts. So learning that Spencer was a local might have buried the hooks even deeper into me, assuring that I continue reading.

Yet, even without these coincidences, I would have had no problem finishing Mere Churchianity. The subject is something I believe is vitally important in our current, fast-paced, instantaneous society, and Spencer highlights many of the same problems I see all around me.

Churchianity is the art of shaping one's life after the church, as opposed to Jesus. Some may find this discrepancy negligible or a matter of semantics, but it's not. Look around. How many churches are truly following Jesus? How many pastors are standing in their multi-million dollar buildings wearing their fancy clothes and proclaiming that Jesus wants us to "have our best life now"? How many church goers are bigots? Racists? Homophobes? It doesn't take a genius to know that the word "Christianity" carries negative connotations, that all Christians are judgmental and close-minded. While this is untrue of all Christians, largely, to the rest of the world we're a religion that is intolerant of anything that doesn't fall under the OK of our set traditions and customs, most of which originated from the church, not Christ Himself.

Jesus was the ultimate example of love and humility. Who did He spend most of His time with while He was in His ministry? It wasn't the religious folks, that's for sure. No, He hung out with prostitutes, liars, thieves, tax collectors, Samaritans, and all the other lowlifes of the times. Jesus said in Matthew 9, "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." How does this compare with our churches of today?

Largely, this disconnect is the focus of Spencer's Mere Churchianity. The book was written for people that had left the church or were thinking about it, people that were dissatisfied with how things were going, people that wanted a REAL church, not a group of hypocrites.

I found myself shaking my head at many of the things Spencer was saying, agreeing that we need to be REAL and dependent on each other, as the early church. There were some things that I disagreed with, of course, and I recommend reading these types of books with a critical & careful eye. Still, for the most part, Michael Spencer was absolutely right. Our churches are screwed up and are too busy focusing on things that don't matter and ignoring the One who does.

I very much enjoyed this book. My copy has notes and underlinings all over the place. Spencer wrote conversationally, but with conviction and honesty. This is the kind of book I wish more people read so as to see that we're not all judgmental and uncaring. I can recommend this book for the target audience (those leaving or thinking about it), but also for the lay church attender as well. The argument is urgent, and if churches don't start fixing things, I fear for the future of the bride of Christ.

*This book was received from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing in exchange for an honest review.

Becoming a Mentor

Recently, as of this past Sunday, I became a mentor to two younger lads, one birthed in 1996 and the other in 1997.  Myself, I entered this planet in the year 1986, putting me a solid decade older than either of the two.  And now, in the aftermath of my becoming a mentor, I find myself a little hesitant and nervy.

See, I like kids and hanging out with young folk, but I never know how to act or what to do or say.  I feel like people should just be able to read my mind and know what I'm thinking, that way we can get past the introductions and awkwardness and head straight into what this whole relationship's supposed to be about: becoming friends.

Keisha did Big Brothers Big Sisters during high school and college, plus she's got a degree in education, so she has no problems when it comes to this type of thing.  I, on the other hand, don't have any practical experience, so it'll all be learning for me.  Still, despite my fears and nervousness, I am looking forward to befriending the guys and growing together.

The same is somewhat true with the prospect of having children.  I didn't have my "real" dad growing up, and his absence has definitely shaped me in many ways.  My step-father also is responsible for my outlook on many things in this world and for how I view things, but really neither of these set the ideal example of fatherhood.  I admit, I'm more than a little nervous knowing that someday, likely within the next year or two, I'm going to become a father.  I don't want to screw my kids up, and I don't want to let them down.  At the same time I know that I'm only human (for the most part) and thus completely fallible.  I know I'll let them down.  I know I'll let myself down, but I still want to be the best dad I can be.

That coincides with becoming a mentor.  I don't want to let down these guys.  I want to be there for them, someone who is considered a strong friend in their life.  I want to have fun and help them when they have questions or concerns.  I want my love for Christ to shine through me in such a way that they see how important He is to me. 

I'm not sure what the future holds or how these relationships will turn out.  Ideally I'll be able to meet with them for an hour or so each week or two and we'll just hang out and talk or play video games or play some music or tennis or disc golf or whatever.  I have no doubt that I'll learn from them, and I can only hope that maybe I'll be able to show them a thing or two, too.

So wish me luck as I enter into these two new relationships. 

Random Bits & Pieces

• I've been playing a lot of tennis recently.  My body feels like a blog of goo, but I'm happy with that.  Serve has been very strong and mostly accurate, while forehand has been sucking it up.
• Keisha's Pampered Chef business is going very well.
• I'm slowly editing my short story "The Bombing of Morrta," as well as working on a few other things as well, one of which I think may develop into a novel and the other is still in the "this is fun, let's tell this story" phase.
• A friend let me borrow the entire series of Cowboy Bebop, which so far has been awesome.  Expect a full review whenever I finish.
• I'll be reviewing Pat Rothfuss' latest not-for-children children's book The Princess and Mr. Whiffle soon-ish.
• Making headway on The Great Hunt, the second book in The Wheel of Time series, plus I'm also thoroughly enjoying the Hellboy graphic novels and The Warded Man.  Lot's of books in the mix.  I got a Bible to review for Tyndale, too. 

Searching For God Knows What, a Review

Searching For God Knows What, by Donald Miller, is a powerful, thought-provoking book.  Miller writes as he did in the wonderful Blue Like Jazz, conversational and easy to understand.  His theology is strong and his convictions are sincere and honest.  Searching For God Knows What is a smooth blend of memoir and theology, and the result is excellent.

The book reads as if Miller is telling you a bunch of stories.  He talks about his friends, sometimes even naming them, and some of the things they've done.  He tells about how the circus terrified him as a kid and only found solace in the elephants.  He tells about some of his struggles and some of his worries, all the while sucking you into his life.  Truly, the book feels almost as if you're sitting down and talking over a cup of coffee, not reading.  After I finished I felt as if I knew Miller, like he was one of my friends and that I could just call him up and talk on the phone, and that easy-to-read style is part of what makes Searching For God Knows What a good read.

But the book is more than just well written.  Miller is looking for something, as the title suggests.  He's actively searching, but what for is anybody's guess.  Not only is Donald Miller looking, but you and I are too.  Miller tells of how we're all just fallen people and that our lives are a result of the events that happened back in the Garden of Eden.  I won't expound on his theology and on his theory of life, but for the most part, I agreed with everything he said.

Overall I really enjoyed Searching For God Knows What.  At times I was laughing because of how funny and witty some of the stories are.  Other times are almost enough to break your heart, realizing how messed up the church (and the rest of the world) is.  And still yet I was learning, or thinking, perhaps, that maybe Miller is onto something here.  If you've never read anything by Donald Miller, and you'd like to read something fresh and eye-opening, I can easily recommend Searching For God Knows What, or his ubiquitous Blue Like Jazz.  The book spoke to me, and I think it would do the same to anyone that were to sit down with it with an open-mind and a hungry-heart.

(This version of Searching For God Knows What is a revised and updated version from his previous release in 2004.  The updated version includes and in-book game, where clues are hidden throughout the text.  I started out following the game, but after a few chapters I got tired of this.  Still, some may find this type of thing fun, it just wasn’t for me.)

This book was provided for free by the publishers in exchange for an honest review.

The Weekend Account of Firefly, Tennis, Beer, Church, Shoes, and Avatar

WARNING: A LONG POST BE AHEAD.

Keisha left for a week on Friday at noon o’clock, heading down to Daytona with her family while I stay here in beautiful, warm and humid Kentucky.  My friend Adam came over Friday afternoon and we hung out until last night.  It’s always enjoyable hanging out with friends you don’t see too often.

We drove up to Evansville on Friday night.  There are two nice used bookstores up there that I had a coupon for and wanted to look for some graphic novels.  Sadly, neither had what I was looking for, though I did get Keisha an Anne of Green Gables book for her collection.  When we were done with that we came back to Owensboro and stopped by the comic store, spending an hour basking in the glow of geekery.  I fully admit that I’m a geek.  I’m weird.  I’m odd.  But walking into the comic store on a Friday night when there are different role-playing games and Marvel Clicks events unfolding on the tables makes me feel a bit more normal than I normally do.  Though, honestly, I think I could relate to those people more so than I could to the other end of the social classes.  I’ve never really been one to fit into a clique.  Cliques are scary.  Anyway, I picked up the latest issue of Star Wars Legacy (#48) and we headed to Stewartland. 

At home I wanted Adam to watch Firefly, as he’d never seen it before and I just got my blu-ray in the mail.  So we started the ill-fated, beloved show that night and wound up staying awake until 3am watching Mal and the gang.  I still don’t understand why the show got the axe, just like Arrested Development, and I never will.  Nevertheless, Adam enjoyed it.  At some point Stella started yelping and barking in agony and it scared me pretty bad.  At first I thought Sofie had bit her, then we thought she might have been stung or bit by an insect.  She was limping and quite pitiful.  So I rubbed on her leg and she finally calmed down after several minutes of tenseness.

Saturday morning I woke up early and decided to play Heavy Rain while Adam slept.  I wound up beating the game and was mostly satisfied with my performance.  There are a few things I’d do differently, but overall the game was fun and the story was certainly intense.  The temperatures soared to the hundred degree mark and over with the heat index around lunch time, but that didn’t stop us from playing a little tennis and disc golf.  I think this was my first disc golf outing since January or February, and I pretty much sucked the entire course.  Still, it was fun.  We watched some more Firefly that evening and wound up talking about different things.  I had never had a beer or an ale before, and Adam wanted to take me to a bar and buy me one.  I agreed, but if I didn’t like it he was going to drink it.

The bar was nice.  Very clean.  Well-lit.  Excellent decor.  Beatles music was playing.  Charlie Chaplin was on the big screen.  He picked me out a drink (he wanted me to try Blue Moon, but the bar didn’t have it, so instead I got Indian Pale Ale) and the bartender put the foamy beverage in front of me.  I have to admit, the smell was much more pleasant than I was expecting, something akin to apple juice and white wine.  Unfortunately, the flavor tasted like drinking carbonated water, of which I am not a fan.  His drink also tasted like crap, though again the smell wasn’t that bad.  I sampled one other thing, some sort of really dark-like-Coke drink, and did not like it either.  I guess I’m just a wine and liquor kind of person if I’m to drink.  I wound up just drinking water, something much tastier than all that other junk I tried.

We were getting ready to leave when Adam struck up with a loner sitting beside him.  The man was from New Zealand, currently living in Kentucky working for a farm entrepreneur.  We wound up talking to this guy for three hours.  The man, Matthew, was hilarious.  We talked about the differences between New Zealand culture and American culture.  Differences between words we use.  Life in the country and life in the cities.  All in all the conversation was fun, funny, and pleasant.  Plus, I’d never met anyone from NZ before, so that was cool.

After midnight we headed home and finished off disc two of Firefly, finally falling asleep near 2am.  Stella had another incident like Friday night, though this time I was watching her when it happened.  The dogs were playing and Stella moved somehow that popped her knee out of place.  (Her other back knee used to do this, but it never pained her.)  I’m guessing this knee joint is tight and the thing is hurting her more than the other leg did.  I put the thing back in place and he immediately quit yelping, though she walked timidly.

Sunday morning Adam went to church with me.  Our normal pastor, Bro. James Dean, is gone on vacation right now, so the youth pastor led service.  Bro. Will preached a strong message on faith and church and the mediocrity of most American Christians.  It was an exceptional and challenging message.  At the end of the service he untied his shoes and placed them at the altar, telling the congregation that Christianity is a challenge to be active.  He was walking out without his shoes and invited the rest of the congregation to do the same.  The shoes would be collected and taken to the local shelter (which happens to be the one me and Alex lead worship at). 

How many pairs of shoes do we have and how many do we need?  How many people walk around without them, or with shoes that are held together by a thread?  It’s odd.  That morning, before church, I actually took the time to think about wearing my favorite New Balances or just some simple sandals.  I opted for the tennis shoes.  And then during the service I remember crossing my legs and thinking, I like these shoes.  They’re in good condition and look pretty good.  Then we get the challenge at the end of the service and I put my shoes at the altar.  Truly, how many pairs of shoes do I need?

Worship at the shelter was a bit disheartening.  No one showed up, music practice was rough (I forgot my thin pick and had to use some horrible thick thing), and it was hot.  They were thankful for the shoes, though.  Three garbage bags were collected.  That’s around 50 pairs of shoes.  In some ways that’s impressive, that fifty people would remove and give away their shoes for someone else who needs/wants them.  On the other hand, there were between 200-300 people at the service, and the 50 pairs is rather indicative of our good ole American Christian Culture.

Sunday night service was equally impressive and more moving.  Instead of a normal song-prayer-preach formulaic church service, we had a time of prayer and worship.  We played music continually, lifting up songs and praising God for His majesty.  We prayed with purpose, with passion, with determination, with faith.  I felt worship, in my heart.  It’s hard to play and pray and sing and keep an eye on the worship leader.  The service lasted around an hour, and I loved every minute of it.  To me, that is what church is.  Desiring God, longing to bring Him glory and honor, desperate to give Him praise.  He is worthy of it all, and I don’t think our church (or many others) truly worship Him on Sundays.  We get into familiar patterns and repeat familiar songs and pray familiar prayers.  This is not worship.

After the night service I went and ate with Alex and Rachael and then went home.  I was exhausted.  Staying up late like that is something I rarely do.  I’m usually in bed by eleven or midnight, so I guess I was just groggy over the lack of sleep.  Nevertheless, I had my final season of Avatar: The Last Airbender to start, and I couldn’t go to bed without watching at least one episode.  I popped in the DVD and snuggled up on the couch with the dogs.  Episode One, “The Awakening,” was great, and I’m eager to finish the series.  It’s definitely joined the ranks of being one of my favorite shows.  Hopefully the show ends on a positive note, but I’m expecting dark things for the future. 

So the weekend was long, but it was fun.  I was busy, but in a good way.  Throughout the days we worked several crossword puzzles, watched some good television, played some humid tennis, and glorified God.  All in all, a very good weekend but for one thing.

I miss Keisha.  Her absence hit me Saturday night when I lay down with the dogs.  I couldn’t begin to imagine not having her in my life.  I love her more than I love any other living person, and I know I don’t tell her enough.  She truly is my best friend, and I’m ready for her to get home again.  Of course, with her gone down to Florida, I can play all the video games I want to and not worry.  Woe is me.

A Wild Game Dinner and Another Art Discovery

This weekend I ate something I’ve never eaten before.  The church had a men’s fellowship on Saturday, where all the sportsmen (fishermen and hunters) brought in an entree of their choice made from something they killed.  For those of us that don’t hunt or fish, we could bring in a side or dessert.  Me, I brought in some sort of Oreo pudding pie thing, which was super rich, though tasty.

Food was aplenty and I had a great time.  Of course, it’s always a great time when food is involved.  Fish was fried and set out.  Green peppers and jalapenos were stuffed and available.  Casseroles and and baked potatoes.  Pheasant, which I’ve had before, was roasted to perfection.  Deer, another food I’ve eaten, was cooked as a meatloaf and as something like a porkchop.  In fact, one person had killed a deer Saturday morning and prepared it, so it was super tender and definitely the best thing I ate.  Then there was the duck.

I’ve never eaten duck before.  It was wrapped in bacon, so it had to be good, even if it had a dark red color to it.  The meat was very dark and slightly gritty, but it did taste pretty good.  It reminded me of liver, but nowhere near as bad.

Overall, I enjoyed practically everything I ate.  It was fun fellowshipping and trying a new food.  Plus, I always like the chance to eat deer.  The only bad part is that my body must not be used to the different foods or something, cause my stomach’s been bubbly ever since Saturday night.

*************

In keeping with the art theme mentioned on Friday’s post, I’ve came across another website for the visual arts: The Museum of Bad Art (MOBA).  Whether you’re looking for a horrendous portrait of skewed proportions or an odd and surreal landscape, MOBA has it all.  So, if you’ve got some time, check out the site.  Here’s just a snippet of what you’ll find.

How beautiful is this portrait of “Mama and Babe”?  I wonder why the artist chose these certain colors, or perhaps the people really look like this?  For some reason it reminds me of Mystique from the X-Men.

What If… Episode One: Knock Off Christian Video Games

I may star a What If… series here on Rememorandom.  If so, don’t count on it being frequent.  Who knows, I may just have good intentions but decide not to do many, or any, more.  We’ll see.  Here’s episode one.

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My friend Alex and I have talked about this on more than one occasion.  What if there was a Christian version of popular video games?  What would the ideal Christian RPG look like?  What about a fighting game?  Side-scrollers?  First person shooters?  The possibilities are endless.

1.  World of Christian Warcraft, Final Fantasy Biblical Edition, Daniel in the Dungeons & Dragons Den, etc.

The Christian RPG would be loaded with classical Bible characters.  The main party would be led by the Apostle Paul, a simple tentmaker with a dark and bloody past.  His sidekick, the short, musically talented David, would be armed with his harp and sling.  Together, they would set off in a world corrupt and brewing with literal evil, battling their way through the realms to bring down the Dark Lord.  Oh no, a random encounter!

*Paul & David vs. 3 Lesser Maniacs of the Gadarenes

Paul, equipped with White Garb (HP +50, Holiness +3) and a steel tent-peg (Damage 47, Weight +12).  David wears Saul’s Armor (HP +15, Speed –7) and has his sling (Damage 30-100, Weight +2) and arsenal of stones with various magic effects.

The Maniacs pool their attacks together and create a Legion.  Looks like the battle will be fierce, but in the end, the trusty team surely will win.  I mean, they have plenty of Lazarus Downs to use in case things get dire.

Who else will they meet along the way?  Surely Moses would have a staff…

2.  Kristian Kombat

KK is exactly what it sounds like it is.  A knock-off of the immortal Mortal Kombat, KK would pit fights to the death between Bible characters and other holy men & women of the past.  Just imagine the possibilities.

Cain vs. Abel, King Saul vs. Saul of Tarsus, Kiriath-jearim vs. John the Baptist, and so many more!  Characters a-plenty.  Button-mashing galore.

Then, at the end of each fight, there would be the “finishing moves,” too.

Peter with his ear-cutting sword.  Samson with his “Imma tear your arms off cause I’m so strong” fatality.  The centurion’s Crucifixion.  Jezebel’s deadly kiss.

3.  Psalm Hero or Psalm Band

This one definitely would be a powerhouse seller.  All 150 Psalms, put to the tunes of popular music, from Big Band era to neo-classical-prog-rock-alt-folk-yodeling.  Everything you could ever imagine rolled up and packaged into a pretty sick deal.

Instead of the typical guitar and drum controllers, the players would get to play with things like the psaltery, trumpet, and 35-button-giant-harp.  Can’t you picture the strolling music bars, prompting you to think ahead and press the buttons at the right time, missing a key button and screwing up your x7 (cause this is Biblical, so all multipliers are x7) combo, getting angry at yourself while the screen blares “Rejoice in the Lord…”?

Oh, such fun.  Psalm 119 would last 20 minutes.  It’d definitely have to be to the tune of “Freebird.”

There you have it.  Three small glimpses at what Christian knock-off video games would look like.  And if that’s not enough to get the hard conservative legalists riled up, then I’m also going to recommend (and embed) this video.  It’s hilarious.  The whole points not to make fun of Christ, but to make a point that Christ isn’t concerned with the trivial things we are.  Instead of WWJD, it’s WWJND.  Watch it.  Laugh at the funny sayings.  It’s long, but it’s very worth it.  Video #2 (@1:42) is great and Video #3 (@3:19) is priceless.

The obligatory ending question: What type of Christian Knock-Off video games did I leave off?  Have I offended you?

The Nativity Project: A Service Project Recap

Let me begin with an exclamation of WOW.  As many of you know, and as I mentioned last Friday, and a few times before then, our Sunday School class did a service project, which we called the Nativity Project, at a local homeless shelter over the weekend.  The project was phenomenal; that second sentence was not.

For many months we have been collecting lightly used clothes, toys, books, movies, purses, shoes, and other things.  We stockpiled our stuff into bags and boxes and then a week ago we went through and categorized it.  There were many, many items to sort through and organize, and it took the ~15 people about three hours to go through it all.  We managed to group like clothes together (mens, womens, teen girls, young boys, young girls, baby) and the toys were just put together as good as possible.  We stuffed everything in a trailer and waited for the project.

Keisha and I got to the shelter around 6:00am so we could help unload the trailer and be ready to start the project by 9:00am.  It was cold and breezy, but it didn’t get any of our spirits down.  In fact, I’d say we were rather warm and willing.  We all cleared out the trailer pretty quickly and then began unpacking all of the bags and toys.  We had to put the stuff around the walls on tables, as we were serving in the cafeteria of the shelter and could not put stuff on the eating tables.  Once everything was unpacked there seemed to be a lot of stuff, but I didn’t know how long it would last.  I didn’t know how many people to expect.

One of the goals for this project was not just to give stuff away to homeless people.  No, we were not exclusive, and in fact I’d say a decent percentage of the turnout was not homeless.  Anyone that was in need of anything could come and take.  We helped parents that were struggling to provide toys for their children by giving them toys.  We offered gift wrapping so the kids would be able to open a gift.  We had some folks ask for gloves, we didn’t have any, but we drove down to the store and bought some and returned and gave them away.  Truly our class was there to serve.

I sat down with a man named Jerry before the project started.  Jerry was an older man with long, bushy sideburns and a quick tongue.  He was wearing a thin jacket.  I found out that Jerry rode the bus to the shelter to get breakfast and lunch and then he would be leaving.  I asked if there was anything I could help him look for, but he said he did not want to face the “madhouse” and that he’d just keep his coat.  He said we probably didn’t have a jacket to fit him anyway.  I told Jerry that I was about as big and tall as he was and that I’d look to find him a warm jacket when the project started.  He said okay, but as time grew closer he decided he didn’t want me to do it.  I told him it was no problem and at 9:00 I went over to the coats, found a very nice and warm American Eagle pea coat, and returned and gave it to him.  I got a simple “thank you” and I knew he was pleased.  I asked if there was anything else I could look for for him, but he said no, that he had plenty of clothes.  We talked a bit more, and a few other folks sat around us and we all talked a bit.  Eventually I found out that Jerry liked NASCAR and word searches and I left the table to go help other people.

We spent most of our time helping people look for certain sizes or items, talking with the searchers and getting to know them a bit.  At one point I spotted an XL NASCAR shirt, walked over to Jerry and told him I thought he’d like it and he took it willingly.  I went back and helped the people I was helping.  We had a steady flow of people from 9:00 until around noon and then we condensed what was left and left it all at the shelter.  Hopefully others will take advantage of what’s left, which wasn’t a lot but still quite a bit, and get some stuff for themselves.

In the end I believe our class was blown away by the project.  I know I was.  Seeing the joy on the kids faces, watching their eyes light up seeing tables and tables of toys, was a blessing.  Helping a mother look for work clothes—and actually finding them—was a source of joy for both of us.  Truly God provided for everyone seeking.  It was like the fish and the loaves of bread Jesus used to feed a multitude of people.  We wound up serving around 200-300 people (maybe more, I can’t remember), but many of these folks got stuff for their family members, too, bringing our output to around 700-800.  And everyone (to my knowledge) left satisfied and happy.

Our pastor asked the congregation a few months ago that if Macedonia Baptist Church ceased to exist would we be missed in the community?  Would people even know we were gone?  He then challenged us to make a difference in our community, to not be complacent with doing little to nothing for God but to get out there and serve Him by serving and helping others.  I think the Nativity Project served our community.  God blessed me by knowing I was helping others.  God blessed others by getting them things they desired.  As always, God blesses and provides, and I pray that He blesses you, too, this Christmas season.

(A quick and unrelated note on Brandon Sanderson.  I found this auction on eBay and thought I’d share it.  It’s a Advance Proof 1st Print copy of Mistborn: The Final Empire.  The going price is pretty low right now, but I can’t bid any more with Christmas fast approaching.  However, you should act quickly, as the auction ends at 09:30:21am PST today.  Good luck if you bid.)

The Way the Lord Moves: Interrupted

My Sunday school class has just started a new unit. It's by Jen Hatmaker, titled Interrupted. The study basically sets out to challenge the way we live our lives. While our American Dream seeks comfort and success, it also tends to put blinders on us and prevent us from seeing those that are poor and outcast. Hatmaker examines Scripture and chronicles her personal journey in transforming her mindset, aiming to be merciful and just, as opposed to selfish and cruel.

The first of five sessions was called "Poor." Filled with heartbreaking statistics and obvious Scripture, I was left cracked and broken. How selfish are we? In John 21:15-19 Christ asks Peter three times if he loves Him. Peter responds each time that he does, and his heart is grieved that Jesus asks three times. With each answer from Peter Jesus tells him to "feed My sheep."

Most of my life I have taken this as a metaphor, Jesus telling Peter to feed the spiritual needs of his people. Christ would be leaving and the world would need pastors to help keep the Message alive. Frankly, the idea that Christ was speaking literally and metaphorically never struck me. Meet the spiritual need, and the physical would be taken care of. Now, I think I was wrong.

It makes much more sense to feed someone physically first. The hungry don't care about the void in the soul; they care about the absence in their stomachs. Showing love and care to them will build trust and friendship, and exhibit the love Christ had for others. Christ first met physical needs, then spiritual needs. Look at the feeding of the 5000 or the countless other miracles. He didn't say "You have to first listen to my sermon and then I'll help some of you." No, Christ was driven by his love for his hurting brothers and sisters.

James 2:15,16 says "If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, be warmed and filled,' without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?" While I try to help out those in need, through giving of food or clothes or money or whatever is desired, I don't often take a proactive stance on this. Instead, passively, if I see someone and I have cash, then I'll help; otherwise, I go about my business. What good are our words without action?

Then, yesterday in class, it turns out that our entire class was all similarly broken by reading the first session of Interrupted. We wanted to know what we could do to help our community? How can we get involved and plugged in, helping those that are less fortunate than we are? Was there a soup kitchen we could volunteer? But, the way the Lord moves is different than we expect.

Exciting things are on the horizon, and I feel that if we go forward with the plans laid out during the class that we'll be able to spread the Love of Christ physically and spiritually to those in need. There is a chance that we'll be doing a "church service" in a local homeless shelter twice a month, possibly starting as early as this upcoming Sunday. We'll use our talents and abilities the Lord gave us, with love, and share ourselves with those at the shelter.

Now I ask you, what do you do for others that are hurting, that are in need? You don't have to serve Jesus to help others. I know the change for me will not be instantaneous, but I pray and hope that it will come, that I'll serve others instead of myself. (If you're interested in the Interrupted series, visit your local Lifeway, or click here.)