The Next Chapter

Transitions are unequivocally revealing when it comes to the compass of one's heart. I laugh to myself when I see the transitions that God has brought Ang and me through so far in our marriage. Things do not tend to happen gradually to us - it could be argued we do it to ourselves - but I like to think our God is trying to reveal something very important in us.
Almost 3 years ago, Ang and I got married within the same month that I started a new job, opening a new store. A year (ish) later, Ang and I discovered we were pregnant with Olivia in the same week that we closed on our house - do you see a theme beginning to emerge? This time around easily trumps those though, a month ago, I found out I was getting promoted, Ang quit her job, and we sold our house within the same weekend. The interesting thing about God is that He is always preparing people for something coming down the road. This experience has been pointed to by others before it, and it will point the way to another coming down the road. The skills and knowledge we garner from one challenge will serve us very well in the next -- one could even say the current experience may be insurmountable without the abilities drawn from the prior one. This is precisely where the laughter comes in - I mean promotion, quitting, and house sold in one weekend - what is around the corner for us?

In that sense, my sense of mystery is stoked as I think about the great journey of life. I struggle to view life in any other way than as a grand story, penned long ago - a journey that we participate in and experience as it unfolds before us. When I look at my life, I find a string of stories that when strung together form The Story, My Story. I wonder what great adventure looms ahead on the horizon, and as I said before, what God is creating in me that will be essential to experiencing that journey to the fullest.

I often fail to see the adventure in the everyday...in today. My mind opens up quite easily to the distant adventure, the one that creates hope, the one that stirs a sense of anticipation - but it never quite seems like it is time for that adventure. Instead I look to the future, yet avoid ever embracing it fully and unfortunately all too often miss the adventure in today. My world seems to lack adventure altogether. In my Americanized world, my constantly climate controlled car, where variations of a mere degree or two cause indefinite fiddling, and where I grow impatient when my laptop that connects me to people all over the globe takes more than 30 seconds to boot up - I realize I am missing something or maybe losing something.

What I gain through the virtues of advancement and technology, are a loss of adventure. My existence is one that is readily defined by control and convenience. Adventure stands in juxtaposition - the very nature of adventure is to lose control, to be at risk. I think this is why I miss the mystery inherent in my story and quietly grow numb to the role I play in this grand story - the one I forgot I was living.


It may not make sense to anyone but me, but transitions are so valuable. Transitions, the changing of chapters, create a signpost, a marker along the path we are traveling. This transition has reminded me that there is much at stake in me recalling the other signposts that have come before - to string those signposts together to see a trail taking shape. In orienteering, 3 points of reference are needed for triangulation, to determine one’s current location. So, as I string together these stories (signposts) The Story begins to take shape, the veil lifts, the fog dissipates and again I remember the Grand Story that has been written. I remember that I have a part to play and I take heart in knowing that my story is not about the struggles, its not about the challenges - it is about what theme has been created and how the Great Storyteller will expound on the themes He has written into my past and my present to create a future for me.

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From My Standpoint

If you are anything like me you may wonder sometimes how you know if you are doing well.  What does success in this life truly look like?  I am not talking about a typical perspective on money, career aspirations, etc, but rather a genuine glimpse into what success looks like for the person who is trying to live in a manner worthy of God's work in their life.  How do I know if I am growing into the kind of person God intended for me to be?  For the person who wants their life to matter and make a difference, who doesn't just want to consume things their entire life, but rather to create things and make an impact for the bettering of others' lives - How can this person guage their success into those types of endeavors. 

This is what I am wrestling with right now and at church this morning, a young pastor made a very insightful comment when talking about spiritual growth.  He was talking about whether a person is worldly or spiritual (in reference to Paul's conversation with the church in Corinth - 1 Cor. 3:1-9) and said that the worldy person views their world in constant reference to themselves.  They are at the center and they can only see God from their perspective.  He said that Mt. Hood was about 2 inches big in his world - from the bus stop outside of his house.  He knew that in reality, Mt. Hood was really 11,239 ft above sea level but that if he viewed the world solely from his own perspective, Mt. Hood was merely 2 inches tall - rather un-awesome.  Now, to travel to the base of Hood is to see a huge mountain, topped with snow, covered in trees, big enough to change weather patterns, and awesome enough to be seen hundreds of miles away. 

Our relationship with God is like that as well.  When I see God merely through my own eyes He can appear far off and therefore very, very, very, small.  In relation, I am 68 inches tall and therefore bigger and more powerful than my pint sized talisman.  In fact, the further I drift from His presence and more I wander from Him, the smaller He becomes, until finally when I have distanced myself far enough from Him, He fits in the palm of my hand.  I don't want to serve a God who fits in my hand - that is nothing impressive nor divine, and yet that is exactly what I create.  It is only in drawing near to Him and learning to see my world through his eyes that I see how small I really am and how great He truly is.  Unfortunately this easy "mental" jump is proving far more difficult when I attempt to walk it out physically.

I struggle to guage success, synonomous with growth in this instance, because my perspective of who God is has been so mangled by my own self-centered nature.  Ironically, the very God, who I have now managed to fit in the palm of my hand is the very same God who I yearn for so desperately to answer the deep questions of my heart.  By taking the Divine and distancing myself so far from Him that He appears merely               un-awesome, I am left searching for these answers in places that were never meant to answer them - this is my great undoing.  Minimizing the One who could transform me has left me fending for myself and that is scary - scary that controlling one's life can leave one...well in control.

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Fishing for Dinosaurs

First time ever sturgeon fishing today on the Willamette courtesy of my wife's awesome XMAS present.  The picture shows how that I had my hands full with this 40+ inch Fish - it took me 15 minutes to get it into the boat and my arms were so dead I could barely lift it up.  It is a little different than flyfishing for trout on a mountain stream.  I was also able to see a sea lion catch a jumping salmon and eat it about 50 feet from our boat which was quite a sit.  I will be going to bed tonight with a sore back and full heart.

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Thoughts: Both Disorderly & Inconclusive

I often like to present things - whether they be ideas, problems or situations - once I have "figured them out."  I want to completely get my mind around it, analyze, decipher, weigh out and ultimately prepackage truth before I even begin the conversation.  I am actually quite comfortable with the gray, uncertain, messy aspects of life, and enjoy existing in the tension between competing ideas.  However, I also take great pleasure and make great lengths to solve tension, so even in something as seemingly straightforward as resolving tension, I oversee a battle of thoughts in my head, each one trying to convince the other that "it" is in fact correct. 

I am just plain confused when it comes to making decisions.  When I was young, I figured it best to do what seemed right, moral and true in my heart.  My heart was a compass and I simply needed to follow its lead in order to find contentment.  Then I found out in High School that God had a plan for my life,and I just walk that plan out.  My life's journey was like a map and He was the Divine GPS for my life.  Later, as I began to understand that God was sovereign over my life, I held fast to the idea that the "Great Puppeteer" would simply manipulate the strings of my life into whatever He so desired, and that I in fact had about as much control over my life as a puppet has over its movements.  As my concept of God grew in college, I came to believe that God was in fact writing the story of my life and so my part in making big life decisions was to simply follow God and allow His wisdom for my life to unfold before me.  It was like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" where God had the end goal in mind all along but He gave me numerous different ways to get there and maybe even allowed for a couple of alternate endings.  Now, I don't really know what I think - some of the naive optimism of college has been obscured with challenging and confusing life events.  I believe desperately in the core of my being that God has something in mind for my life - that I was created with a purpose, a mission, and an aspect of this great journey of knowing and being known by God is to discover His vision for us.  Perhaps, this is what some people may describe as a calling.  All I know is I look around and see people living from their heart, doing work that makes their insides come alive on the outside and I am left wondering at times why I don't feel like that.

What am I to expect from this life I have been given as a gift?  The idea of expecting a certain something seems infantile and arrogant.  The mere fact that I am alive seems to be grace enough - that I get to breathe in this mysterious world, exist in a life of love, surrounded by the beauty of my wife and innocence of my daughter.  Yet, something burns inside of me - a long time ago it was a raging fire and now the embers but the flames have resided.  My view of God's involvement in the decision making process (big picture life sorts of things) directly links to my understanding of His sovereignty, His calling on my life and ultimately to my role, if any, in living a life reflective of His work in me.  There is an undeniable, domino like effect in play where the way in which I view one element of the puzzle predetermines my understanding of the rest of it. 

All of the above metaphors both reveal and conceal elements of the truth behind the fabric of our lives.  I think I want to explore Scripture to better understand how God called the people of Scripture to the missions and life purposes He had intended for them.  I know I have an active role to play in this life and I know God is intimately at work in the details of my life.  I know too that He has created me with a purpose and a reason in mind - how specific I am not sure, but I know I cannot rest until I find out.  Discovery requires a certain due diligence.

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Life in Light of Heaven

Well the title really says it all I suppose, but where is the fun in that.  At different points in time over the past couple of years I have entertained fleeting thoughts in regards to Heaven and what sort of effect the reality of Heaven has on my life right now.  Fleeting is giving myself too much credit  probably - to say the least my life bears a limited reflection to the one Christ has welcomed us into.  Now, I am not indulging in self-loathing so don't write me off - hear me out - I think many of us neglect the reality of Heaven.  We acknowledge Heaven in a tucked away crevice of our minds, a place we reserve for things we hold to be true that have little to no bearing on our lives.  Think about it.  When was the last time you made a decision where your understanding of eternity bore weight on the decision making process.  Paul talks incessantly about Heaven because eternity provided the framework to define our lives and lense through which we were to view it. 

As modern people living in an overtly compartmentalized world, we think of our lives as being part of current time, and Heaven as being a second life, a restart in some ways and a completely new existence.  I wonder though, if eternity is truly eternity, then by definition all time exists on one contiuum.  Our lives, therefore exist within an eternal contiuum, and not separated from it - I don't live like this is the truth.  I live like the life I am in right now will one day be over and then I will stand before the throne of God and enter into Heaven based on the righteousness of Christ as a separate existence.  This life ends that life begins.  That doesn't sound like eternity to me that sounds like 2 different lives - and though I don't really believe I will live 2 separate lives, I live like I do.

I have been given full access to God through the precious work of Christ on my behalf, and yet  wonder where He is in my life, even catching myself lost in wonder at how amazing it will be to one day be with Him.  Why not now?  What is stopping me from having that intimacy with God right now?  The Thomas in me - the part of me that freely acknowledges Christ with my tongue, but by my actions lives in a way that denies His immediate and intimate presence in my life.  I am so short sighted.  I see life through my Amercanized bubble - being completely obsessed at times with my job, my life, my finances, my hopes and dreams - but my life is a vapor in the eternal spectrum.  If the reality of Heaven truly ruled my life, then I would actually be caught up in this beautiful tension.  I would hold my time on earth loosely, living freely, and while life would retain a sense of brevity, it would gain an eternal element, a seamlessness between our time on earth and the rest of our life in Heaven.

This may seem like a minor tweak, but that is only because words fail me in this moment.  The rejoining of our fragmented lives would give us the opportunity to be eternally-minded allowing us to more brightly reflect the character of Christ while growing ever closer to the heart of our Father.  I believe the implications go far beyond proselytizing, but rather extend into the core of our hearts and minds.  I would love to hear what you think about the impact of eternity on our lives.

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In the words of George Strait...

There is nothing quite like a George Strait song to put me in a transcendent mood.  He is the singer/songwriter of countless #1's in country music and he singlehandedly provided the juke box material needed to enjoy a game of Big Buck Hunter with Paul and Ty.  I can't hear a George Strait song and not think of my wife because even though George perfectly describes our relationship through his melodic tunes, Ang nearly convulses when she hear a tune of his struck up.  It is an unfortunate occurrence though because a song like, "Baby Blue" is very fitting for the last couple of days I have had with her in Denver.

For the past couple of days, Ang has been enjoying some much deserved time away in Denver with some great friends of hers just enjoying the sort of freedom that is scarce with an 11 month old and a husband who acts like one at times.  I could not be happier for her, and I have a snapshot etched in my heart that I will not soon forget, it was a glimpse into the heart of our sweet and loving God. 

Oftentimes, we refer to God in the form of masculine pronouns and most believers readily accept God as their Father.  However, people may consider you a nutcase if you were to refer to God in the feminine or to portray a view of God as Mother.  I think our views of God are really limiting at times as we utilize dichotomous thinking forcing an infinite God into finite categories.  Why is it difficult for us to see God as our Mother when we so readily accept him as our Father?  There is a fierce and unyielding nature inherent within a mothers' love.  A mother's love is in the same breath nurturing, protective, gentle and not to be trifled with.  Who would dare stand between a mama bear and her cub?  And what mom would not gladly put herself in harm's way to save her little one?  It is natural for me to see God as my Father but I need to work on seeing God in a maternal way as well because without that understanding of God I am missing out on an enormous element of the love God declares for me.

As I watched Ang step out of the car and prepare to fly out to Denver, I very clearly saw the depth of bond between mother and child as both her and Olivia said goodbye for a couple of days.  Tears were shed, hearts were laid bare, and the sense of separation left a void that would not quickly be filled.  It was one of the most glaring pictures of love God demonstrates towards us.  I wonder at how deep God's love runs, a love so rich that it would lead God out of heaven down to earth and ultimately to a cross  - all that we might be reconciled to God - that a way would be made for us to spend eternity with God never separated, never gone.  Void filled.

Romans 8:38-39
 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

This verse describes the kind of love both a father and mother point to, but which neither can fully express on its completely on its own - the kind of love personified exclusively by a God who loves both maternally and paternally in one breath.

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Joy

As the famous Christmas song puts it, "Joy to the world, the Lord has come.  Let Earth receive her King."  Ang and I have been talking a lot about joy lately - seems to be a recurring theme for us and one for me that begun at our Christmas Eve service a couple of weeks ago.  Our pastor was talking about how the Enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy, BUT Christ came to give us life and more abundantly.  I am amazed at how quickly I forget.  I am silly and so preoccupied with what new thing I need to know and figure out that sometimes I wish I just remembered the simple things - that Christ's purpose was to give me life - and you as well.  The kind of joy that I am considering this morning is born from choice not circumstances, the source stems from the great reservoir of our soul being constantly refreshed by the Holy Spirit and the outpouring of goodness that so defines life with Christ. 

The things I lack so restrict my line of sight to Christ that I often underestimate how much I have right now.  Perhaps now more than ever I find myself longing for the next thing but in an unhealthy way - I strive like a child to GET something (meaning, happiness, satisfaction, truth) instead of asking my Father and trusting He will provide.  I struggle and strive instead of resting and trusting and I am left exhausted, disgusted, and frustrated because the Lord's lack of apparent provision is really my own inability to get out of the way.  This is exactly where joy enters the equation for me.  Joy, firmly entrenched in the character of God, has the uncanny ability to sustain hope in the hearts of believers.  I say it must be entrenched in His character because I often connect joy to circumstance not character.  Circumstances shift and change - the character of God does not.  God has been pouring out his blessings on Ang and I over these past couple of months and I am re-learning to find my joy in His desire and ability to provide instead of the provision itself.  The blessing is not contained merely in the unexpected money that arrived - the fullness of the blessing is that God cares so intricately about our lives that He would choose to enter in and provide. 

The physical blessing (money in this case) meets our physical need, which is very real and important, but God's desire to enter in and provide reveals His great and merciful love, which speaks to deeper and even more critical questions...Am I loved?  Does God see me?  Will things ever turn around?  God's willingness to provide now convinces me He will choose to do so again and again and this fact brings me joy.  Joy seated in the character of God - my Jehovah Jireh as He is called in the Old Testament - my provider whose grace is sufficient for me.  Oh so sufficient!

Christmas always reminds me of one key truth...Emmanuel, "Christ with us."  Christ chose to come, to enter the world weak and defenseless as a small baby, in order to be with us.  Christmas is the time for us to remember that God, who could have completed His work anyway he pleases, decided it would please Him most to come and be with us.  That gives me great joy and hope both now and in the days ahead.

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The Moose Mug

Do you ever see something that is pretty irrelevant, but for some reason it stirs a desire for creativity up inside of you?  I think I am a bit desperate for creativity right now.  The last couple months of work have been a bit of a grind and I have been feeling restless in part because I have struggled to carve out any time in my day for me (read: not posting a blog for nearly a month).  Learning to function in all the different roles I have as a man has not always been an easy transition and the journey from boy to man has been full of potholes, twists, turns and changes.  Adaptation is the key.  Adaptation, I suck at.  My wife will tell you, my family will tell you, my employees will tell you - I can plot a course with the best of them and I can put my nose to the grindstone and push through challenging times - what is tough for me is to course correct, to adjust, to adapt.

Before Ang and I started dating, we were really good friends and had been for a couple of years.  We always enjoyed being around each other, enjoyed similar things and had a penchant for laughing a lot and having great conversations.  I always really enjoyed spending time with her.  That is the mode I was in with her...great friends.  Well when the opportunity presented itself to start dating, I hesitated because we were such good friends.  I was so stuck in that mindset that I struggled to see the opportunity I had to start a relationship with a truly amazing girl.  I could have easily missed the chance save for the grace of God and the wisdom of my Dad..."Ry, girls like Ang don't come around very often, she is really special and you better figure out how you feel about her before it is too late."  Thanks Pops - good advice!  It is like when I finally make my mind up on something there is no stopping me, but until that light bulb comes on I am living in the dark.

So, back to the moose mug.  I was working an opening shift on the Friday after Thanksgiving...we opened at 3:10am to a line of 10 wide eyed, middle aged, women who needed caffeine to propel them into their shopping frenzy.  By the end of my day, I was exhausted, worn out and excited to get back to my family who was hanging out in Hood River.  I walked by the Moose Mug (a thick, brown, sturdy, manly mug with a white moose image on front) and it stirred something in me .  It reminded me of a time when I used to live a portion of my life outdoors.  The trips into the wild with Paul and Ty are memories I cherish because there was a wild and untamed aspect to them.  They remind me of a time when irresponsibility and spontanaetiy predominated my life - don't get me wrong, I wouldn't go back to that season of my life, but I feel a need to reconnect to the heart of the man who was living then.  I feel like I need to reconnect with the "wild man" who would camp, hike, fish and smoke his pipe. 

When I got home and my wife discovered the new mug (which further clogs our cupboards - we have one whole shelf dedicated to coffee mugs which is an undeniable pitfall of working at a coffee shop) and asked me about it and all I could say is that it is my "writing mug."  What the heck is a writing mug?  Well for me it is something that inspires me to carve out time to create something - to harken back to the wild man - to live an adventure.  I find that in my creativity I most closely resemble the heart of the Creator, in whose image I have been formed.  So here I sit, writing, while my wife is at work and our little one rests up for a day of crawling, talking, laughing, and living -  I am enjoying some Christmas Blend and the adventures my moose mug reminds to discover.  What inspires you?  Where or to whom do you look for that feeling of transcendence that allows you to reflect on your life and project into your future?

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Storyteller

In my last blog, I wrote about captivity and about my desire to be a part of setting people free - more specifically about how my calling fits into the greater framework of Christ's calling as found in Isaiah 58.  While still a work in progress, some things are beginning to take shape ever so slowly.  I still feel like I am walking into the fog, but occasionally a glimmer will be provided, a sight on the horizon, a quick picture of what lies ahead.  I think this is God's grace; His providence in my life, urging me forward and reminding me that great things lie ahead.

I like telling stories.  In college, my roommate Paul and I would go back and forth telling stories and entertaining ourselves and others along the way.  Stories are powerful.  Inside of a story lies truth, but that truth is packaged in a narrative which allows us to project ourselves into the story, relate with the truth found there and more readily digest truth into our lives.  Jesus used stories when describing life with God and in relating everyday life to the larger story (metanarrative) that overarches the story of humanity.  I have an inkling that storytelling may be a part of what lies ahead for me.  Not so much in the traditional sense of the word, I don't think there are any jobs out there as a storyteller, but framing truth is something I am very interested in. 

When someone shares their story something powerful happens.  The teller and the listener are somehow intrinsically connect in a new way - to tell your story is to expose yourself - to expose your innermost longings and desires.  To tell your story is to risk and where risk dwells, beauty follows closely behind.  I say this because in each of us lies a story of paramount importance - an unfolding of events Divinely authored and played out on a stage that is encompasses our lives.  Many of us don't embrace this story; instead we fight it, struggling against our reality because the miss the beauty than runs so deeply within it.

This morning I am spending some time reflecting on my story because as I look ahead and strive towards something greater, something better, something life giving I am reminded by the voice deep within that the best way to determine my path ahead is to know understand my trajectory.  That trajectory takes into effect where I have been, where I am at, and to where I am pointed.  I all too readily forget where I have come from, forget the provision of God, suffering from a sort of selective amnesia where somehow the events of my life get reinterpreted in such a way that I am left to suspect I am alone in this venture as I have been all along.  This gross misrepresentation takes place when I forget my story, when I fail to remember the times I have been rescued, the times I have been redeemed and made new and the times when I was hurting and broken and in need of simple kindness and gentle love.  I need to remember - my life and my future depends on my ability to remember what has happened - more pointedly to remember how He has happened over and over in my life, and undeniably so.  This is the overarching story we tie into, the profound and endless love of God demonstrated through Christ, revealed daily, and determined solely by His grace.

 Stories are how Jesus taught us to understand God.  Stories connect us.  Stories are powerful and everyone has one.  How will yours read?  

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Setting Free the Captive Heart

Captivity is defined as the state or period of being imprisoned, confined, or enslaved.  Our hearts are said to been held captive until Christ came to set the captives free, to bind up the brokenhearted, and to proclaim the favor of God (favor can also be defined as grace) Isaiah 58.  I am trying to gain a better understanding of what a calling is, and what my calling might be; this is a topic of great importance to me right now as I delve into a new chapter of life with the hope of aligning myself with God's best intent for my story.  I think a calling is like an invitation, it can be rejected, ignored, missed, or accepted and I believe our calling is both general and specific.

It's general in the sense that we are called to love well, act with compassion, mercy and grace, and to exude the character of God in all that we do.  It is a tall order and one that will not always be upheld perfectly, but that only points us to our unending need of Love Himself.  Without being connected to Love, how well can I love?  On a more specific note, our calling should be defined in light of Christ's calling, as we are always and completely defined in light of Him.  His sacrifice has forever defined us as forgiven, loved and welcomed into the family of God.  We are now able to exist in union with God and eventually in perfect union with Him.  As mentioned earlier, Christ's calling was to set the captives free, to bind up the brokenhearted, and to proclaim the favor of God.  I have been asking myself where my life, my calling fits under this umbrella and I am really drawn to setting the captives free.  I want my life to be about that.  I would die a very happy man if I could look back on my life and be convinced that as a result of knowing the Lord in a way that allowed me to express His heart to others, people who's hearts were being held captive now live free.

Our hearts are held captive by so many things.  We strive for the appearance of success, happiness, and meaning.  We are insecure about the way we look, unsure about what our lives should be about, and we spend much of our time distracting ourselves by being "so busy."  Our captivity stems from the brokenness that lies deep within all of us - from what went wrong in the garden.  We lost our innocence, our trust in our Maker, and we were left broken - merely a shell of what we were intended to be.  Regaining that glory, what we were intended to be, is possible through a relationship with God, but it does not come easily.  Nothing will be attacked with more vengeance, no schemes or devices will be left unturned and no opportunity for destruction will be spared.  To regain our glory is to break the power of deception - a power that cripples our ability to trust God and to live a life of faith. 

Our faith is undermined when we find ourselves unable to trust.  I want to be about helping people regain this glory.  Captivity is broken when we regain our glory and our glory is regained when we are redefined in light of the glory of Christ.  His glory is infused into us through His actions at the cross.  Read Romans 6:4-7

Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have become united with Him in the likeness of His death, certainly we shall also be in the likeness of His resurrection, knowing this, that our old self was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin; for he who has died is freed from sin.

  I want to help people understand that God loves them.  Don't gloss over that.  God loves us.  This is great news and even better when we consider His love has no strings, no contingencies, no gimmicks, no self-centered motives, and absolutely no half-heartedness.  I hope my life can be about spreading the truth about God's heart for His people in order that our lives might be altered, undone, transformed.  If you really believed you were loved, not because of anything you did or didn't do, not because of how much good you have done and not because you lived a good life, how would your life look?  What would you change?  What striving would cease?  What hopes would emerge from the depths of your soul?  Could it be true - is there a love so exacting and so personal?

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Thwarted

I love being a Dad - I  love the giggles and wiggles and when I see my little girl, I see the beauty of creation and remember how fortunate I am.  I am a blessed man - I have a beautiful family and a wife who loves me more than I could ever deserve.  Life, as beautiful and full of joy as it is sometimes is also a constant struggle.  I feel resistance around every corner and nothing seems to be coming easily.  I feel like I am being thwarted...by God.

You have to understand something about me - I can't not plan - it is like this innate thirst inside of me that won't be quenched without a gameplan.  Part of that is growing up in a family of planners - we are already discussing plans for Christmas and knew what we were doing on Halloween by the time September rolled around.  My job is a great outlet for that because all day long I plan and execute - it is probably 80% of what I do.  I am in the process of re-learning that planning my life is not always a fruitful endeavor.  I knew this once, but somewhere along the way believed again that planning my life could somehow hedge me against the riskiness of risk itself (interesting how I have to learn things more than once - the simpler the concept the more readily I seem to forget its applications).  This is where the thwarting comes in to play.

I am wrestling with God - well its really more of me running around in my life and God waiting for me to stop so He can give me the direction I say I so desperately want.  I am like a little kid hopped up on pixie stix, zooming around, trying to figure out what to do next.  Eventually, I may even exhaust myself enough that I will stop and listen.  It's not that I don't try - if anything I try too hard, but somehow, deep inside my own broken humanity lies a will that still thinks I can make it on my own.  Nonetheless, Ang and I are talking to each other and to God about what He has next for us and right now it feels like we are putting our hearts out on our sleeves and hearing nothing...just crickets...  We seem to catch a glimmer of an idea that ignites something but then as quickly as the fire starts, its extinguished.  We just can't seem to find our way right now.  Life feels a bit like walking out of my house for the first time in the morning into a thick bank of fog - I just feel disoriented.

Concocting a plan that seems like something God might have for us and branding our plans with His name is always going to be easier than truly waiting.  I am impatient and times, but today, I thanked God for His thwartiing ways.  He is truly my guide on this journey and at times I am so far off the trail that I need some thwarting, some resistance, and some "gentle" corrections to my course.

I am asking God for direction, but more importantly for the courage to follow Him.  I don't know what lies around the next bend in the road of this journey for our family, but I am excited, I sense it is something truly grand.  I sense it is something worthy of the calling God has on our lives.  I sense it will require much, but I sense it will exceed our highest hopes. 

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Looking For a New Book

So recently I finished the books I was reading and though I am still entrenched in "The Brothers Karamazov" I am on page 53 of 833 and am seriously wondering if I have the stamina for it right now.  Wondering if anyone out there has a recommendation?? 

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Mystery is History

As I wrote about in my last post, a longing for adventure is hard wired into each of our souls.  I believe that this longing is intimately connected with our view of the world around us.  Our sense of adventure is directly proportional to the mystery we allow to exist in the world around us.  This is not a fool's mystery that could be explained but instead is not, this is genuine mystery, the unknown, ideas and concepts that are beyond us and therefore draw us out into a story much larger and more grand than are own.  A story that encompasses ours but is not limited to its confines.

As we began to lose our sense of wonder and awe, the world became automated, robotic, predictable even - except that its not.  Somewhere along the way mysteries were studied, dissected, analyzed and put back together so that we could build formulas in an attempt to remove elements of the unknown - except we now know less than we knew then.  We fear mystery.  We avoid the unknown.

I know I do - my actions declare rather boldly that I would prefer to control life rather than experience it.  I try to fit God into my pocket to be carried around like a talisman instead of seeing Him as a shepherd, One who longs to guide and direct me along the path of my life.  The concept that our life on this Earth is one of mystery is unsettling to us because to grasp the mysterious life requires us to fully trust. Adventure cannot be had in a controlled environment - doesn't work that way.  Control negates adventure.  Mystery is the petri dish whereby adventure can be cultivated - without mystery there is no adventure to embark on.

Oftentimes we choose to control our lives because when we have control, we cannot be caught off guard or surprised, but rather remain in the driver's seat always knowing.  Why is it such a big deal for us to always know?  Knowledge is powerful but not singularly.  Knowing what you will do in ten years can be helpful, but it can also be limiting.  This is one of my greatest struggles.  I want to know where my foot is going to land before I pick it up to take a step.  I think that by knowing, somehow I will gain power over the successfullness of the outcome and therefore miss most of the entire point.  My Father is less interested in where my foot is going to land and is more interested in whether or not I will try to take a step - where that step takes me is secondary.  The point is the step, the point is the journey, the point is the process of learning to trust enough to take a step and not know where the next one will take you.  Peter would never have gotten out of the boat had he worried himself with where he was going to put his foot (on top of the water ended up working out just fine).  If he had worried about where he was going to step, he would have deduced that his foot had nowhere to go and therefore he could not possibly take a step.  Instead, he saw Christ, chose to follow and allowed Him to take care of the rest. 

This sounds warm and fuzzy but I do not intend it to sound that way.  Trust is ugly, faith is awfully messy at times because it requires that we voluntarily release control and choose vulnerability, something our society has not trained us to do.  In our me-first culture, nothing is more counterintuitive than choosing to be vulnerable, than choosing to embrace the unknown in hopes that you will be met there.  Our inability to be self sufficient demostrates our great need - our striving to run solo anyways demonstrates our great pride and desire for control, but taking an opportunity to relinquish control, to choose surrender, to choose to embrace the unknown demostrates our profoundly unique ability to trust.  To trust is to embrace mystery, to embrace mystery is to open oneself to an opportunity for adventure.

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Sense of Adventure

I  was working on my next blog this morning while Olivia happily crawled around the carpet squealing and looking at everything she could feast her eyes on.  She would touch the wall ever so deliberately as if she was trying to determine exactly how it felt and as she went from one item to the next, her eyes slowly fixed upon the door that was cracked partially open.  The opening was maybe an inch wide but it was like a screaming invitation to an adventure, to something grand, to the unknown.  Olivia quickly began making her way over to the door that was ajar and as she drew near she slowed and peaked inside ever so cautiously to see what lay behind the door.  She gently urged the door open and made her way inside where a wonderland of amusement, mystery, and excitement awaited her.  She found her way to...her room.

My daughter's sense of adventure is alive and well and her ripe imagination allows everything in her world to experienced to the fullest.  I can remember times in my life when I viewed my life as an adventure.  A time when the happenings of my day were significant on a more reaching scale than my own mere amusement, a time when it seemed there were invitations to grandeur around every corner and a time when I felt alive.  I think I see my life a bit less like an adventure now.  If I had to describe that time with an image, I felt like I was standing on a mountain overlooking an open plain, and now I still feel like I am on the mountain only I have lost the horizon and am looking only at the ground in front of me.  I need to look up, I need to see where I am going, but I fear that breaking from my current state may leave me realizing I have lost my way. 

My heart longs for a new adventure - life has been so full this past year with us buying a house, having a baby, working, and gettting used to being parents.  For awhile, it seemed that the adventure would be becoming parents - but that's missing the mark.  Where it is wild and crazy being a parent, the adventure for Ang and I must lie in doing something, in being a part of something truly grand and worthwhile.

Let me think about adventures for a second...what makes a great adventure? A great adventure has an interesting plot, something captivating and compelling; it has a series of obstacles that must be overcome (nothing great enough to be deemed an adventure comes without resistance right!), there must be a company of people (a brotherhood, companion, company, someone to share the journey with), it must be something worth laying everything on the line for - there must be a risk/reward in there somewhere and an adventure must change the adventurer in some way.  No great adventure leaves a person unchanged.  I want this.  I want an adventure.  I love my family and I like our life well enough at times but it leaves me yearning for something that really gets my blood pumping, something that compels me and something that I feel like is worthy of the short amount of time we have here on Earth.

I want to feel like Olivia must have felt when she saw that door cracked open.  Curiosity, wonder, mystery - these things gripped her little heart and she went searching for what lay behind the door.    

I want that anticipation.  I want that sense of intrigue.  I want that adventure.   That's my prayer.

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Thoughts on TIme

Our idea of time has gotten me thinking lately.  I have been paying closer attention to the metaphors we use to discuss time and its place in our day to day lives.  By nature, metaphors reveal and conceal things - basically they describe things but not perfectly or completely.  By drawing comparisons between time and other things, we learn more about some aspects of time but also realize that by shedding light on some aspects of time we cast a shadow on others.  The dynamic is at work the most when we try to describe elements of our lives that are somewhat abstract, intangible, or difficult to grasp.

So back to time.  We frequently use the metaphor, "time is money."   Think about how many money metaphors we use when talking about time.  To name a few, "how should I spend my time,"I want to invest my time in important matters,"I can save time by doing it a different way, "I need to better manage my time."  There are hundreds of different ways we utilize the metaphor "time is money."  I catch myself using this metaphor multiple times everyday, but I finally stopped to wonder one day - Is that really true?  Do I really think of time and money as being that similar?  In our society we are really focused on getting ahead, on making money, and therefore tend to be materialistic by nature.  I wonder if this idea of time is driven by our materialism.  I want to think of my time as something to enjoy, to experience, to exist in - not something to spend because then I am concerned with the return on my investment.  Namely, that whatever of whoever I spend my time on must make it worthwhile by giving me a return.

I am not sure how to think about time, but I know it requires more thoughtfulness on my part.  I wonder too, if we feel unproductive in part because of how we think about time as something we spend, invest, or use.  Therefore if we are not spending, investing or using it in a way that yields a return, it seems like a waste.  That sounds like a far cry from love and an even further cry from my heart.

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Wondering about Wonder

When did we lose our sense of wonder?  When did we start looking at a sunset and forget to actually see it?  I watch Olivia and she is fascinated by the strangest things.  She can't get enough of ears and feet lately.  She shrieks when she sees them and will climb over anything and everything to get a closer look or taste :)  Watching her experience her world for the "first" time makes me think, when did my world become so drab?  Feet and ears don't fascinate me anymore, well except for the ears of old men when they get huge, hairy and kind of floppy (its a badge of honor I look forward to carrying)- I just learned the other day that your ears never stop growing, I wonder why.  My world has become normal, I daresay even mundane at times - that is CRAZY.  How can a world full of beauty and mystery become commonplace? 

One of my favorite documentaries is the Planet Earth series.  The series takes the viewer to places all over Earth - places I could never even imagine seeing.  One episode explores the depths of the oceans, where new species continue to be discovered every year.  Strange animals live there, with glowing translucent features, and appendages that appear to be straight out of a bad sci-fi movie.  Another explores the great rivers of the world and in particular shows rivers running red in Alaska as millions of salmon return to the exact location their lives began in order to spawn.  It is one of the most incredible feats in all creation right alongside the migration of millions of animals across the deserts and savannahs of Africa.  I am inspired to go and see for myself.  I realize how little of this world I have seen with my own eyes and I am propelled towards visions of seeing the sunset across the ocean, and watching it rise across the crest of a mountain - to see the Grand Canyon, the Great Wall, the Pyramids in Egypt, to see an Elephant in the wild, or a great migration of birds.  I am reminded of how little my world is when I think of how little I have seen.  Those are only places and things don't even get me started on the different people groups of this world - beauty in every corner of the earth.

I fear that I get up everyday and look at the world around me and am no longer astonished by what I see.  Olivia lives in a state of nearly eternal surprise...and delight.  She stops everything to examine a doorknob, and is taken back by the sound of rain hitting a window.  When she sees a person she has never seen before she begins to study their features and with a squeal, she announces her presence.  Something just does not add up.  If the world is truly full of beauty and mystery, and yet my vantage point yields normalcy and boredom - something is off, broken perhaps.  I think its me.  I think I may be broken.  I know I may never look at a doorknob the way Olivia does, but I sense I may be seriously lacking some imagination when it comes to the world around me.  Where did my imagination go?  Unfortunately because I am often so self absorbed I miss something incredible because it does not fit into my ideals.  I think the next time it rains, I will try to be less annoyed at getting wet and instead experience the sillyness of water falling from the sky.

The world around me screams of beauty.  How can I spend even a single moment missing that?  I want to regain my sense of wonder; I want to be in awe of something truly grand; I long to be caught up in something far more reaching than my little cubicle of a world.  Tonight I will ask the Author for eyes that can see the world He created in all its splendor and glory.  I long to be amazed.  Tomorrow when I wake I will see the sunrise... perhaps for the first time.

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Give it a Rest

I am weird.  I opened at my store today - that's 4am - and yet here I am out to coffee again at 8pm thanks to Ang who is doing bedtime solo tonight with Olivia (Thanks!).  There is something about drinking a hot cup of coffee, listening to music, and losing myself in thought.  As I relax and allow my mind the room to stretch out, my heart begins to be drawn into another world.  I wander off to a place as beautiful as the sun setting across a sky littered with mountains and trees.  The music is like a - well normally its a sweet sound but right now its Barbara Streisand - WHAT!  How is this playing right now?  Well Plan B good thing I have some Death Cab for Cutie (they are not nearly as weird as their name suggests) on my computer - that's more like it.  I feel like its a place where my heart can breathe. 

In our world quietness is going out of style, right alongside rest.  As we cram more into our days and lives we end up with less, we lose the depth that life offers.  In a place with no talking, where I am left alone with my thoughts I am slowly lead out to a place of peace, of solitude, of rest,  It is often in this place that I sense the words of the Father gently penetrating my heart.  Loving, tender, honest words -the kind that resonate deep within and leave me changed, undone.  I feel like this when I have my flyfishing gear and I am out in the middle of a river, serenaded by the rushing water, so loud it blocks out every other noise.  The river's roar silences the noise in my life in a strange way - freeing me to enjoy the structured cadence of my casting and the way the fly slowly drifts onto the water.  When I fish, its rarely about the fish, its more often about the way that fishing quiets my insides, stills my soul, and molds my perspective into that of my Maker.   

Rest is critical because it creates space in our lives.  We are all too comfortable with no space, no time, no breathing room.  We live on the proverbial hamster wheel and seem all too at home there, running at breakneck speed through our life until something intervenes and forces us to stop.  I see it everyday at work- the stress, the frenetic frenzied frantic pace of peoples' days and I am no different, but it does make me wonder - for what?  For what purpose are we so consumed with activities?  What are we afraid of missing out on?  What are we afraid of seeing in ourselves if we take the time to stop and look?  Certain types of poetry and music function most precisely when natural rests are built in, breathing points, places to stop and allow truth, or beauty, or wonder to set in.  God rested in the midst of Creation.  Why can't I stop and rest?

 If some things are more beautiful with space, with breaks, with rest then I wonder if my life would be richer and more beautiful with a bit of the same medicine.  Maybe that's the way it was designed to be - I think I will give that a shot.

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A Walk and a Fight

Ang and I got in a fight the other day.  A fight for each other - not with each other.   The best kind of fight you can get into as husband and wife.  We talked a lot about dreams and about what stands in our way.  She, as always, was unwavering in her support of my dreams and hopes for the future, reaffirming her belief in me and in what my heart longs for.  I am amazed by her.  The journey of discovering your heart and connecting its longings is filled with potholes, obstacles and resistance - encouragement is essential along the way and she provides it in spades.  I am spurred on when I know someone believes in me.

We have been on this walking kick lately (I think we are trying to get out as much as possible before the winter rains set in) and it has been such a great chance for us to talk and discuss ideas and encourage each other.  It's not always easy to find time for those things as a new parent.  We have both felt pretty overwhelmed at times to the point where it's easy to lose track of things - especially your heart.   

As I alluded to in my profile, I am gradually beginning to uncover some areas of my heart that had been collecting dust for awhile.  Writing this blog is just one of my attempts to transform the dustbowl into a reservoir.  Neglecting my heart was one of the worst decisions I have ever made.  Our hearts function like a compass, pointing us in a direction, establishing a course for the days that lie ahead.  As I lost track of my heart I struggled to interpret the events in my life and soon was stuck in an existence mentality where days were meant to be "gotten through" instead of enjoyed.  Disconnected from my heart, I felt like I was drifting along until finally a deep and pervading space was undeniably prevalent inside of me.  The space just sat there, empty - it was the kind of void that can't be filled, save for the genuine longings of your heart.  I am still in the middle of the struggle to regain my heart - it is a daily battle - one void of any shortcuts or any attempts to fake.  As I draw nearer to the Author of all those yearnings and longings, the space is gradually replaced with hope, anticipation, dreams, creativity, trust, and a newfound awareness of the world around me.  I keep thinking I will arrive at some point soon - get to a place where I understand, where my world is full of clarity and where suddenly the puzzle begins to take shape.  I am just now beginning to wonder if perhaps that time is not going to come.  I think somewhere in the struggle to find my heart, I will begin fighting a different fight.  Now that I am rediscovering my heart - the new challenge will be to keep it alive.  I know of only one Way. 

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Path of Least Resistance

In physics, the path of least resistance is a rule that describes the movement of objects through a system.  We know this intuitively in that, water tends to want to travel downhill not uphill and electricity flows through a circut in a path where the resistance is the least.  I behave a lot like that most of the time - trying to find a path of least resistance - and I miss out on so much.

Our culture seems to define what is right or what is good synonomously with what is easy.  The idea that the path of least resistance is the best path for us to take simply misses the point of the journey altogether.  When I look back on the times in my life that have been richest, and most full of life - the ones where I have grown and been challenged, I notice that resistance has been an active participant every step along the way.  Resistance is critical to growth.  Anybody who strives to be in shape realizes this because our muscles are developed through overcoming resistance.  However, a longing exists inside of me to rest, to cease striving, to simply be.  My longing can be satisfied momentarily through a day off, a vacation, time with family or friends, or a chance to pursue a passion.  In the end though, the feeling keeps coming back manifesting iteself in statements like, "I'm exhausted", "I need a break", or simply, "I'm done,"  The true source of the longing is for not just a reprieve, but a cure.  The longing points towards a reality in heaven where everything but existing in the presence of our Maker vanishes.

I bring up heaven because until I put my longing in an eternal perspective it's meaning is difficult to ascertain.  Eventually, a path free of obstacles, hindrances, restrictions and resistance does await me - but that time is not now.  Now, what stares me in the face is a life ripe with resistance and the crazy thing is - its actually good.  Call it a trial, call it refining fire, you can even call it a trial by fire - but the truth is this resistance is meant to be embraced not avoided.   My journey abounds with resistance.  As Ang and I try to sell our house, as I try to sift through the fog surrounding my heart, as I try to understand what story my Creator has written for my life, as I try to understand what it means to be a father, a husband, a man - resistance is everywhere always trying to funnel me back towards ease of motion.  I have to actively engage the resistors that have been set before me because somewhere in that challenge is truth, somewhere in that challenge is life. 

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Crosswalks

"Everything changes when you have a kid."  I heard that so many times while my wife was pregnant as people shared their advice and wisdom for us before we set out on the journey of parenthood.  Boy is it ever true.  I don't think I have ever paid much attention to crosswalks before Olivia came into my life.  I would drive through them without much thought, roll through them as I turned right at a stoplight and even avoided them when I was crossing the street.  My relationship with crosswalks has forever changed. 


Walking downtown with Ang and Olivia last weekend, I clapped at a car that drove through a crosswalk that we were walking through.  It was completely illogical as I am not sure if I expected to create a sonic boom that would stop the 1 ton car in its tracks - I guess I was simply making a point.  Ang thought I was making a joke as she proceeded to clap at random cars for the rest of the day as the giggles overwhelmed her.  In fairness to her my clap (just one hard clap) was REALLY random especially since I aimed it at the passing car - no words came to me and I wanted to reach out and stop the car with one hand to remind the driver that I was pushing a stroller with my kid in it.  However, in the moment my hard clap felt like the right move. 


Just yesterday we were out taking a walk in the morning and on our way to get some coffee we came to a stop at the dreaded crosswalk.  My wife gracefully passed on the opportunity to remind me of "the clap" as it is now referred to in our home.  As we waited, 2 cars drove right past us.  I started wildly waving my arms,  as the third car approached and he managed to acknowledge me with a wave of his hand as he proceeded through the apparently invisible crosswalk.  Needless to say my frustration began to mount.  A fourth driver, completely oblivious to our family waiting for him to stop drove me to action - I one-upped my last attempt.   I waved my arms, yelled "CROSSWALK" and pointed to the crosswalk.  Ang turned bright red and chose to walk about 20 yards ahead of me as the car abruptly came to a stop.  I walked through the intersection feeling no shame, only an abiding sense of pride at accomplishing my feat of stopping the car so my girls could safely cross.  I smiled to myself.  Now Ang has two things that can make her laugh any time she thinks of them. 


I can't figure out why I care so much about crosswalks all of a sudden, but to deny my frustration would be dishonest.  I guess I now have a mission to fulfill - something has awakened in my man heart and I will ensure my family can always safely cross the street at the crosswalk.  I know. I am ridiculous :).   

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