All The Little Choices...

   Life.
   Real life.
   It is a knapsack full of triumph, stumbles, detours, joy, and pain.
   I believe...there is also an active, living, force that works against us in this unfolding story, and he's clever regarding how he goes about the subterfuge.
   He knows that mostly if we saw what he was up to we would not give him any attention at all.  So, he will use as many little distractions as it takes until we struggle to hear the voice of the one who made us; the one who keeps us, loves us and calls towards becoming the best version of ourselves that is possible.
 
   That is what these few paragraphs are about....

   Mr. Waldemarsen.
   He was at least 6' 4".
   Norwegian.
   Well over 200 lbs.
   Square jaw.
   Broad shoulders.
   Crew-cut hair.
   When he talked, which wasn't a whole bunch, you could hear the accent, heavy in his voice.  Most of the time I saw him, he was wearing maroon, rubber galoshes that went over his calves.  They had a gold stripe around the top.

    He lived in town, but he and his wife owned property just west of ours.  Probably 10-12 acres.  He had a few horses, mules, donkeys and cows...oh and one day he began to keep bees in the wooden stacks of hives toward the north end of his field. Sometimes he brought my Mom fresh honey, still dripping from the comb in a Ball canning jar with no lid.
   His arms swung low to his sides when he walked, his back straight; striding across the field to feed his cows looking like the famous "Sasquatch" video of the 70's.
   If he saw me, across the barbed-wire fence line, headed towards our barn to feed our own animals, he would stop, lift one of those swinging, tree-branch arms high in the air, smile broadly and wave.
  Sometimes I saw him talking to my parents, but in all of the years that I was growing up on the farm, I don't remember having a single conversation with him myself.  We didn't really have any reason to talk.  I was a kid growing up; doing my chores around the farm, hoping to get away and do something more exciting as soon as it was possible and he was working around his animals, the bees and his barn because he loved it.  He spent his free time puttering around all that was there on the property, I tried to spend my free time anywhere else I could escape to.
   During the summer of 1983, as a junior in college, I had secured a job in Chicago as Athletic Director a North-side Boy's and Girl's Club.  It was going to be a huge step for me, committing to dive into an adventure not only far from home but in a city that was literally a thousand times larger than the one I grew up in.  There would be a myriad of fresh challenges to encounter.
   It was just a few days before I left that my Mom handed me an envelope with a card inside.  She said it was from Mr. Waldemarsen.  My name was scrawled in cursive outside the envelope, and I noticed a small bulge in the center of the envelope, and rubbed my thumb across it before tearing it open.
   The card inside was small and white.
   It said, "Best Wishes..." across the front.
   When I opened it up, a tiny piece of wood tumbled out onto my palm.  It was about an inch long, and one-fourth inch wide.  It was also a fourth of an inch tall at one end; planing down to a razor-thin edge at the other.  There was a note written on the lower half of the card.
   One sentence.
   It said, "The enemy knows how to use the smallest wedge to separate you from God, so be watchful."
   And then beneath that sentence, "Sincerely, Don."  Then there was a smiley face.  :)
   Truth.
   I remember that note often.
   I wish I'd kept it.
   I later thanked him for it.
   He just smiled, put a huge hand
on my shoulder, and said, "I knew you were headed for an adventure, and when we go on an adventure, it's smart to prepare however we can."
   Indeed.
 

The Place In Between

I watched for awhile, a young man at work in the shadow of Mickiewicz Square.

He was walking a tightrope,

suspended above the grass-covered park with the opera-house fountain in the background

and I thought...How hard it is to be "in between"

In between where we have been and

where we wish to go.

A thought.

           (A step)

                 A hope.

                        (Another step)

                                     A dream.

                                           (Another step)

                                                        A hunger.

                                                               (One more step)

                                                                            A prayer.

Just one foot following another...it sounds so simple.

Right heel in front of left toe.

Left heel in front of right toe.

But with each step,

the further we move away from home, or comfort....

That distance which separates us from anyone or anything in front of us, that may give us security,

                                S    E    E   M   S       T  O       G   R   O   W

Along with fear.

.....and questions

.....and negative self-perception

....until all of the GRACE-sufficiency that stilled our heart,

                                                                     hangs on the tightrope

                                                                                             by its fingertips.

I have watched as others who are closer to where they wish to be

Than the place they left behind, give up the journey.

Their shoulders sag,

                  eyes empty; 

                         they return to that place familiar, but faith-less.

Lord,

Grant us eyes to see the destination

ears to hear your voice beyond our fears

a heart to sense the peace of your presence

the will to follow one step at a time....

But, most of all, when we feel paralyzed in that place in between

Help us to move away from the image of:

                                             who we have been

that we may make firm-footed steps,

                           toward who you believe we can become...

Twenty-five, Forty

Discomfort, dis-ease and dirt, is what I think we see, when he said, "...whatever you have done for the least of these, you have done it unto to me..."
What I'm learning is that the flow of this statement runs opposite to that initial take.  Though it does contain the challenge for me to move from my comfort zone into relationship with those who I may typically pass by, it is also an opportunity for me to connect with Christ in a way not offered in ANY OTHER fashion while here on this planet.  He is reconciling us to himself through this process...WE CAN TOUCH JESUS WHEN WE TOUCH SOMEONE ELSE.

These thoughts have been calling to me as if in a conversation between myself, another I have not yet met, and of course the one who made us both....like the echo of a song that at least for now, has no melody...

What if...(I believed it was you)
          who held a truth I need to hear
Only you...there in the shadow
Only you...had what I needed
Something,
Anything,
Even just one thing       
     that was meant for me.

That could set me free, (not just for a day)
But for all my days
and the only way,
that I may
ever know...this gift
This gift that you were holding, (in outstretched hands)    
Right in front of me was if.. (If I met you there)
There in the shadow (of the unknown)
Of the uncomfortable
         
Would that be enough?                 
enough wonder,  (to carry me)
Enough hope, 
to capture (my attention)
to stir my mind, (and my intention)
Enough...to change my heart

What if...(an open mind)
Could open my eyes
And that was enough...that I would know,
Somewhere in the deep 
That it was You...
Standing in the street
Standing in the shadow (the shadow of the tree)
It was you...
Knocking at the door
It was you...You in this time and space    
that could set me free…
              and heal this broken place (in me)
It was always you...(though I could not see)      
you held this key…(in outstretched hands)

ONCE MORE...
Would that be enough?                 
enough wonder,  (to carry me)
Enough hope, 
to capture (my attention)
to stir my mind, (and my intention)
Enough...to change my heart

I think I believe...(oh help my unbelief)
I DO BELIEVE...
That somehow we are all connected;              
In the pain (and in the joy)
When we are all giving (and all receiving)
From each other...(it's black and white)
I SEE YOU NOW...(I was so blind) 
You and I...by ourselves...ONE… (the loneliest number)
But now I know...

That if...(an invitation)
To an open door..
I will walk 
And I will hold 
   all you have kept for me (and me for you)
        We can both be made whole
             both be made new,       
                   and even more   
                            than we could ever be                                  
                                       If we walked (through this life)                                                     
                                                                                           Alone.

O' We Of Brittle Faith

If our mouths can only speak words of contempt,
                                teach us the power of silence, 
                                                                   ...O' we of brittle faith.
When our heart is wounded by actions of another,
                                please be our healing power, 
                                                                   ...O' we of brittle faith.
Should we weaken in our resolve toward your will and not our own,
                                strengthen us with your spirit, 
                                                                    ...O' we of brittle faith.
If our ignorance reveals itself in prejudice,
                                soften our resistance to repent,
                                                            ...O' we of brittle faith.
When we are so aligned with what serves us most,
                                save us from striving for our own comfort,
                                                             ...O' we of brittle faith.
Should we feed our ego, and seek a position of power,
                                humble us with a reminder of the cross,
                                                                     ...O' we of brittle faith.

Jesus, "we" is really just me, in a thousand situations that play out in my memory.  
You have seen me at my best, when I bend and move easily into the way of your spirit.  
You have also seen me rigid and dry,
                               living in my own way, like hardened clay;
                                                building defenses and supports to what I desire.
Lead me to an open-handed release of this brittle faith that I have held onto in exchange for
the living hope,
         stretching faith,
              and enlightened joy, that I can find in a heart of flesh, and not of stone.

The Fear Factor

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT A POST ABOUT HALLOWEEN   :)

I believe that our default setting is fear...Humanly speaking.
It's familiar to us.  It hovers near to us most of our days.

Sometimes we like to toy with fear, as long as we believe we can control it.
That's why we watch the movies that are filled with it and play the video games that are built upon it.
As long as we think we can control it, we feel empowered when we play with it.

However, if honest with ourselves, when we know that we can't control it or manage it; then it overwhelms us, and we are lost. 
It twists into anger, isolation or both. 
Most of our negative interaction with others is born out of the build-up of fear inside of us.

I'm afraid I will lose my job.
I'm afraid you will not accept me.
I'm afraid I will not be invited.
I'm afraid of your culture.
I'm afraid I will be alone forever.
I'm afraid I will be abandoned...again.
I'm afraid that everyone thinks badly of me.
I'm afraid of what I don't know about you.
I'm afraid that there's something better than what I have.
I'm afraid if you get what you want, I will lose something I want.

These fears push us towards some terrible choices.

In the garden it's part of what pushes our first relatives to choose to align themselves with the voice of an ingratiating liar rather than that of the consistent, caring and truthful voice of The Father.
After that first choice another falls immediately on its heels...Let's hide! 
From where I sit, that seems a rather silly thought....Let's hide from God.  
How could they ever think that was possible?  But that's what fear does.  It creates irrational responses in us.

Hiding is a symptom. 

The bible gives us multiple instances of folks who hide from who they are, or rather who they are meant to be, and the turmoil they go through because of it.

Even decisions that appear rooted in selfishness are sometimes actually borne out of fear in some way.

Glancing back at the thoughts written in blue, I'm certain that the list is incomplete, because each of us has our own points of fear-rooted broken-ness.  They are formed by our personality and life-experiences.  Our fears swell when we find ourselves in repeated circumstances that draw them out.
But I don't think it has to be that way.

The only consistent, true antidote to fear that I know of, is faith.  

Belief that Christ is active in all of the areas of my life can free me from much anxiety.  So, I don't have to micro-manage the work of God.  Living in that space allows me to take a cleansing breath and find release.  I can live with open hands.  No one can take from me, something I have already freely let go of.  

( I John 4:17-18/Message)   

God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we’re free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

(Psalm 4:8/NIV)

8 In peace I will lie down and sleep,    for you alone, Lord,    make me dwell in safety

(Isaiah 26:3-4/ESV)

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you,
    because he trusts in you.
Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.

May we all fully know the grace and peace he offers to us today, filling in every crack in life that fear wants to seep into.

Take A Walk

...He led me through the forest to his "campout"; a place of rest for a young boy who was collateral damage, in the cycle of addiction that had trapped his mother.  Through him I learned how difficult life can be, tethered to the choices of a parent who couldn't grow up.

..."I want you to meet my Grandma," she said, ushering me through the entryway.  Then I was sitting down on the sofa in a modest apartment listening to a Jewish woman explain to me how she had survived a place called Auschwitz, with her faith in a loving God still intact.

...His name was Njoroge and  I dutifully followed his dark, extended, index finger pointed  to the right and then the left, for several kilometers until we reached the Ngong Hills.  The noise of the matatus, cars and buses of Nairobi had long drifted away and then, I stood in front of his family's shamba.  The corn was a foot taller than I, the melons sat ripening upon entwined vines along the ground and I began to grasp the hopeful simplicity of life in rural Kenya.

...He was weeping, with his head in his hands; these huge hands of a full-grown man, shaking violently, and asking me, "Why couldn't they love me?"  While we sat there alone, I saw the man shrink away to a little boy... to the child in all of us, still reaching for the embrace of a mother and father.

...Five dollars was the cost of my education.  I gave the tuition to Cary and followed him down the front steps of the parsonage. We made a brief stop at the liquor store and then we were into a back-alley, and for the rest of the day, traveling along the pathways of his life among the homeless on the streets of Chicago.

...Her name was Adi.  Through her kindnesses we learned that in far off places along the west coast of the Black Sea, and apart from any connection that we or the church had, God knew our whereabouts.  He would find us a home, and bring us to his people who had been waiting for us there all along.

...He was lost, mystified as to how it had come to this.  She was stern and immovable.  Her eyes were fixed on a blank wall opposite him.  In that moment I understood how love not nurtured and taken advantage of, can fade into a stone-cold resistance from which it may never return.

...We sat down across the table from each other while she tearfully explained the choices she had made to leave her physically and emotionally abusive husband, for the love and support of another woman.

...Apollo met me at his home. We rode in my Toyota to the center of Nairobi, then climbed the stairs to the roof of a 5-story building.  The entirety of the the space was his he said.  Every bit of the area had been burnt to the cement foundation.  I looked across the 3000 or so square feet with sadness.  Then he said, "I have brought you here to pray for my business, and that God would restore it.  I know that if you pray, He will do it."  In that moment, I was inspired by a faith, that was more someone else's than mine.

If I took the time, I could record a hundred more of these introductory moments...maybe two hundred. I don't know for sure.  I have been privileged to journey life with others who guided me down paths of learning that I know I would never have come to on my own.
No book would have the words.
No professor has such teaching skill.
It's education via community...
People who shared with me about their pain.
People who expanded my definition of joy and commitment.
Children, adults, men and women, each a human heart who helped me to see something that I would not have seen without their unique perspective.
                 I guess that each day I am becoming more convinced of a particular belief.  
I heard once that, "the opposite of addiction is connection."
I had to think on that a bit, but today I am more than ever convinced that this is truth.
                                        We need each other.  
There is a help, an education, waiting for me, that is woven into my relationship with others.  We have so much at our fingertips to
communicate with each other, but we seldom do that in person, and this impersonal existence 
with our world is creating a lonely ditch we have fallen into.
I have read several articles lately that point to this issue.
(here's one: http://time.com/5261181/young-americans-are-lonely/)

I am so thankful for the lessons 
             which have come through simple conversations with people not like me.

I actually believe that in those moments or hours of the journey, there was a third one who walked with us, and in fact it was his invitation that we were both responding to, without even knowing it.
He was gently and creatively, drawing together two separate timelines so that we could find healing and help
          from each other.
So...each time I choose to take a walk, 
                                 share a coffee or a meal,
                                                        ask a question, 
                                                                go into a meeting with someone I have not met before, 
                            with no agenda but to listen and learn,
I find that quite often, I have dipped my cup into a well of understanding,
                                                                                 deeper than I could have ever imagined.

The Heart of God

I offered pizza.  
They happily agreed to my offering; standing in the rare sunlight of a February afternoon, with smiles on their faces and shovels in hand. 
So I phoned Domino's the next day.  They delivered lunch, and the folks from Stone Soup Gardens went to work on placement of four, 4000 gallon water catchment cisterns for the community garden being built on the south parking lot of our church.  

A couple hours later, I was talking with the crew during a short break.   They thanked me for the pizza, and I said, "Can I just say to you how much I appreciate all of the work you are putting into this project.  I don't know your faith background, but I think that the work you are doing makes God real to people who are struggling, and need to know that someone cares. Thank you for that."   

Regardless of what we believe, I think that each of us at some point, ask ourselves, "If there is a God, How does he feel about me? Does God even know who I am or what I am going through?"
I wish the church was better at showing how deep God's love is.  
I wish that I were better at it too.  There have been many times that I have prayed that God would allow me to have his heart, that I could share a better hope or a deeper peace with someone who needs it.  When that prayer is answered,  I am drawn into a depth of concern and focus that is all-consuming and relentless.
So, I want to suggest that our God is an emotional being, and much more than we tend to imagine. 
His heart is BIG and incredibly sensitive to what we are experiencing individually.
                                  All of us...all of creation...all the time. 
We have emotions because he made us in his image, so he is an emotional being.  
Also, I don't know if we really believe this.  
We are not convinced of the idea that our God is really that deeply connected to us when we are hurting. 

In response to that uncertainty, I give you Jesus.

                           Luke 19:41-42English Standard Version (ESV)
41 And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it..."

That means he sees the village life on the outskirts of Jerusalem as well as the dynamics of those living in the urban settings.  
He sees the families that just arrived in the city, trying to make their way in new surroundings and those who have lived there for decades.
Those who have work and those who don't.
Those whose social standing is elite and those whose standing is servitude.
Those struggling with addictions and those who are free.
Those surrounded by family and those who feel completely alone.
Jesus takes a sweeping look at the city of Jerusalem. He takes in all that is happening there...

Couldn't  that be the Kent-East-Hill that he is looking at?  
Or Covington, Renton Highlands, Tukwila, Federal Way, Des Moines, Auburn, 
Maple Valley...The Greater Seattle area or Tacoma?
Can't it be wherever we live?
He sees our neighborhood. 
                                     He knows our issues, all of them, and He weeps.

In another gospel account...same scene, He says, 
         "How long have I wanted to gather you unto myself as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings"
      That is not an image of a God who only cares on major holidays, like Christmas and Easter, or only pays attention when it will bring media coverage.  That is the image of a protector, a nurturer, someone who desires to be as accessible as possible, 
                             and is moved to tears when he has to watch us struggle on without him.

Then, there is this SECOND illustration, found in John's gospel...it is more intimate still.
                        John 11:33-36English Standard Version (ESV)

33 When Jesus saw her (this is Mary, Martha's sister) weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved[a] in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?”They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

These verses show us again, that Jesus doesn't come to us 
     as a doctrinal concept, 
              a theological position,                       
                             a core value....
Jesus is not a something, but a someone.
...And he weeps over the pains we experience and the separation that we feel from him...when we are trudging through it alone.

He is...The Heart of God.