time is no friend to the ones who wait for daylight to come

I admit, I haven't been thinking straight lately, which only sucks in light of the fact that my mind is usually my greatest asset against the lack of constants. Much of it may be due to lack of sleep, but this isn't for a lack of trying, and I've even stayed away from the coffee at work. :) No, it feels like a spiritual force is at work, and the attacks and sleep-deprivation make it difficult to discern what is God and what is our enemy.

In one way this is encouraging, because when the enemy amps up his game, it usually means something dangerously good is on the brink. I'd just hate to miss His hand through a series of distractions and misunderstandings on my part.

A friend and I are visiting St. Louis next weekend, so maybe something will be revealed within my church family. When I think of Bremen and this house of mine, I do see an asset... for somebody, and God only knows how long it will be before I move back to the city. I could learn to be content with my current position if I fixed my eyes on Christ, but even scripture has been dry for a couple weeks now (I know, I know -- but this is a rare occurrence for me). I'm so anxious for his revelation that I think I'll consume it through all vessels available, and I've probably been a bit inconsiderate to those who've offered even a taste. By inconsiderate, I mean needy... which is comical if you know me, because I'm the guy answering a billion of other people's questions and combing the blogosphere looking to be of service to the confusion of others.

Huh. That sounds a little dysfunctional when I put it that way. :)

Suffice it to say, I'm thankful for y'all and your willingness to offer that drink, whether here or in the real world. I'm thinking this is a foundational step to ministering within a body again, because if I cannot rely on my brothers and sisters to meet my needs, then I am bound to meet theirs in a prouder fashion than what is desirable for the kind of leader God wants to develop. And I am that leader, but there are some scuffs and scrapes that need deep buffing and grinding.

God bless.

she's the candle burning in my room

[DISCLAIMER: This post is subject to what I’m feeling right now, and draws zero suppositions from the following passage. If anything, I’m hoping to stumble upon something that goes beyond my unfounded premises, because I would like to receive some revelation from His Spirit. Remain in prayer for this confused heart, and be slow to respond with unsubstantiated consolation that He has not given to you. I would be blessed to hear anything that He has offered.]

Based upon the running theme of this space, you may surprised that I have never done an exegetical study on 1 Corinthians 7. I’ll be honest, I feel a little irresponsible for this; perhaps I was subconsciously apprehensive because of what I might find. Having tackled the blemishes of the Corinthian church on numerous occasions, and having expounded upon the finer dynamics of Ephesians 5 and Colossians 3 regarding marriage, my exclusion of 1 Corinthians 7 reveals a subliminal unwillingness to “go there.” So here I go...

Now concerning the things about which you wrote, it is good for a man not to touch a woman. But because of immoralities, each man is to have his own wife, and each woman is to have her own husband. The husband must fulfill his duty to his wife, and likewise also the wife to her husband. The wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does; and likewise also the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. Stop depriving one another, except by agreement for a time, so that you may devote yourselves to prayer, and come together again so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control. But this I say by way of concession, not of command. Yet I wish that all men were even as I myself am. However, each man has his own gift from God, one in this manner, and another in that.

But I say to the unmarried and to widows that it is good for them if they remain even as I. But if they do not have self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.

But to the married I give instructions, not I, but the Lord, that the wife should not leave her husband (but if she does leave, she must remain unmarried, or else be reconciled to her husband), and that the husband should not divorce his wife.

But to the rest I say, not the Lord, that if any brother has a wife who is an unbeliever, and she consents to live with him, he must not divorce her. And a woman who has an unbelieving husband, and he consents to live with her, she must not send her husband away. For the unbelieving husband is sanctified through his wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified through her believing husband; for otherwise your children are unclean, but now they are holy. Yet if the unbelieving one leaves, let him leave; the brother or the sister is not under bondage in such cases, but God has called us to peace. For how do you know, O wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, O husband, whether you will save your wife?

Only, as the Lord has assigned to each one, as God has called each, in this manner let him walk. And so I direct in all the churches. Was any man called when he was already circumcised? He is not to become uncircumcised. Has anyone been called in uncircumcision? He is not to be circumcised. Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, but what matters is the keeping of the commandments of God. Each man must remain in that condition in which he was called.

Were you called while a slave? Do not worry about it; but if you are able also to become free, rather do that. For he who was called in the Lord while a slave, is the Lord’s freedman; likewise he who was called while free, is Christ’s slave. You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of men. Brethren, each one is to remain with God in that condition in which he was called.

Now concerning virgins I have no command of the Lord, but I give an opinion as one who by the mercy of the Lord is trustworthy. I think then that this is good in view of the present distress, that it is good for a man to remain as he is. Are you bound to a wife? Do not seek to be released. Are you released from a wife? Do not seek a wife. But if you marry, you have not sinned; and if a virgin marries, she has not sinned. Yet such will have trouble in this life, and I am trying to spare you. But this I say, brethren, the time has been shortened, so that from now on those who have wives should be as though they had none; and those who weep, as though they did not weep; and those who rejoice, as though they did not rejoice; and those who buy, as though they did not possess; and those who use the world, as though they did not make full use of it; for the form of this world is passing away.

But I want you to be free from concern. One who is married is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord; but one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife, and his interests are divided. The woman who is unmarried, and the virgin, is concerned about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body in spirit; but one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how she may please her husband. This I say for your own benefit; not to put a restraint upon you, but to promote what is appropriate and to secure undistracted devotion to the Lord.

But if any man thinks that he is acting unbecomingly toward his virgin daughter, if she is past her youth, and if it must be so, let him do what he wishes, he does not sin; let her marry. But he who stands firm in his heart, being under no constraint, but has authority over his own will, and has decided this in his own heart, to keep his own virgin daughter, he will do well. So then both he who gives his own virgin daughter in marriage does well, and he who does not giver her in marriage will do better.

A wife is bound as long as her husband lives; but if her husband is dead, she is free to be married to whom she wishes, only in the Lord. But in my opinion she is happier if she remains as she is; and I think that I also have the Spirit of God. (1 Corinthians 7, emphasis added on verse 8)

Mark is a single Christian man in his early 50s. Four summers ago, we discussed his transition from eligible bachelor to single-minded servant of God. He admitted his struggle with unmarried life through his 20s and early 30s, particularly due to the contrast with his wedded peers. A few relationships looked promising, but inevitably, nothing stuck. By the time his late 30s had come around, he found that seeking a wife was no longer a priority. His life was accommodated by the liberties of the single man, and he spent years volunteering in his church’s youth ministry due to the added flexibility. Mark remains on watch for what God is doing in this present generation, and humbly offers elder wisdom for His growing work.

Regardless of how much clout we give Paul’s opinions, his logic is sound and supported. However, this passage his been a thorn in my side, because I cannot gauge its personal implication. If the life Mark has lived is available to me within the joy of the Lord, I would be grateful to know and exercise that life. Breaking down the “pros and cons” to a fine powder, here is my data:

1. Peers (women in particular) regularly share what a fine husband I will make, and have done so since high school.
2. The desire to share my love with a woman has consumed an inordinate number of resources: quality time, emotional strength, and finance. Because I believe that love is a choice demonstrated by action, I have worked hard and sacrificed much to love beyond a feeling.
3. While these actions are established through the love of Christ poured over my life, it follows that each hour of pursuit is an hour not spent ministering to the lost.
4. God has not removed my desire, but neither has He promised me anything. “The faith of Abraham” argument doesn‘t necessarily apply.
5. Any such request to remove the desire has been seemingly denied, as best as my spirit can discern.
6. This desire has brought me significantly more pain than joy, despite fellow Christians’ insistence (including ex-girlfriends) that I persevere.
7. Paul encourages us to remain as he, unless we lack self-control and would “burn with passion” should we remain in our current place.

I have not drawn a single conclusion based on the first six truths. It is the seventh I would like to explore in greater depth.

The two important words in verse 9 are those translated “have self-control” and “to burn with passion.” Both are single verbs in the original Greek manuscript.

• EG-KRA-TEU-OMAI: literally to “seize hold of oneself“ -- to exercise self-control or abstain from something, especially in sexual matters.
• PYR-O-OH: literally to “make fiery hot” -- to burn with desire, be sexually aroused.

Here’s my million dollar question: to what degree does Paul allude to self-control? Abstain from sexual activity? Check. Exhibit wisdom when given full opportunity to take advantage of a woman? Check. Be considerate to the weakness of those attracted to me by refusing to stoke an unreciprocated fire? Check.

What I want to know is whether Paul is excluding a weakness of the heart. Self-control implies a control of action -- even the Greek word in question refers to the act of abstaining. In this, I am blameless; I am in full control of my actions. However, “burning with desire” transcends the physical act of the flesh and penetrates the heart. Would Paul suppose that those who live as he become perpetually asexual, or would he have those that have willfully restrained their flesh at the deprivation of their heart remain single?

For me, this is an important designation without a clear answer. If I’m to assume that the death of my physical iniquity is enough to live for Christ alone, by all means this appears the best way for me. The remainder of my marital support is courtesy of those that feel I‘m worthy of this blessing (myself included), but not for the sake of my ministry and service to Him. On the other hand, if I’m expected to commit to celibacy only with the absence of my heart‘s sexual desire, I’m left between a rock and a hard place. We no longer live in a culture where my internal desire is nurtured by a decision to marry. Any number could easily say no. Should I remain relentlessly available for the sheer potential of a relationship, I am no less divided than those Paul urges to marry, save the actual blessing designed to free me from the desire. This appears to be the worst of both worlds, and we haven’t a modern day solution relating to Paul’s suggestion.

The best I can pray is that the heart ultimately simmers through the willful neglect of the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and hands. And I pray it doesn’t take long.

ya know i'd like to keep my cheeks dry today

Nothing says leisurely diversion like a TOP 5 LIST!

Top 5 favorite cinematic monlogues
[In chronological order]

1. "You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever You Are? You're chicken; you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness.' You call yourself a free spirit, a 'wild thing,' and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself. [Takes out Holly's crackerjack ring and throws it in her lap] Here. I've been carrying this thing around for months. I don't want it anymore."
   -- Paul Varjak, Breakfast at Tiffany's
2. "After that it got pretty late, and we both had to go, but it was great seeing Annie again. I... I realized what a terrific person she was, and... and how much fun it was just knowing her; and I... I, I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, 'Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken.' And, uh, the doctor says, 'Well, why don't you turn him in?' The guy says, 'I would, but I need the eggs.' Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs."
   -- Alvy Singer, Annie Hall
3. "I might be the only person on the face of the earth that knows you're the greatest woman on earth. I might be the only one who appreciates how amazing you are in every single thing that you do, and how you are with Spencer... 'Spence,' and in every single thought that you have, and how you say what you mean, and how you almost always mean something that's all about being straight and good. I think most people miss that about you, and I watch them, wondering how they can watch you bring their food, and clear their tables and never get that they just met the greatest woman alive. And the fact that I get it makes me feel good about me."
   -- Melvin Udall, As Good as It Gets
4. "You'll see. One day when you move out it just sort of happens; one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start; it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is: a group of people that miss the same imaginary place."
   -- Andrew Largeman, Garden State
5. "Y'all got on this boat for different reasons, but y'all come to the same place. So now I'm asking more of you than I have before. Maybe all. Sure as I know anything, I know this -- they will try again. Maybe on another world, maybe on this very ground swept clean. A year from now, ten? They'll swing back to the belief that they can make people... better. And I do not hold to that. So no more runnin'. I aim to misbehave."
   -- Capt. Malcolm Reynolds, Serenity

Boo. Now I want to watch my Firefly DVD's :)

i bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow; i watched the stars crash in the sea

I know, I know. If I insist upon titling my posts with music lyrics, I should exhibit enough diversity to prevent quoting the same band twice in two weeks (particularly one that quit after one album). But it fits. Anyway, I couldn't possibly be more obsessed with New Radicals than Mandy Moore; she later developed into the most aesthetically pleasing of the millennial pop princesses. Who would have guessed? I surely digress...

My mind has been churning all day, so I'm certain to wear out my backspace key in an effort to communicate the goo. I'm finding this difficult. Over the past 24 hours, I have laughed, cried, prayed, hurt, found relief, sang (poorly), and praised... while keeping my cursing to a minimum. In fairness, Pandora offered a Ben Folds song that tempted my vengeance, and my flesh indulged in an ole'-fashioned shout. For that I apologize. The way I look at it, better in a coffeehouse kitchen apart from virgin ears. It's out of my system... I think.

Theme of the day: "God, I don't understand what you're doing."

At all. If somebody asked me to make sense of their spiritual predicament, my only response would be that God does what He wants.

[Notice how God is good enough to prevent my phone from ringing today?]

I don't mean this in a bad way. I'm suggesting that sometimes my walk with God is so confusing, hurtful, and seemingly unjust, that I can only conclude that He's in control and understands more than I do. And while I know this is true, it doesn't make the bewilderment less painful.

Immediately after praying last night, I quoted a nice verse from Psalm 18. I needed a nice verse. I needed to know that He isn't forsaking me and that He gives a lick when I feel like He has forsaken me.

Some bozo in St. Joseph, MO prophesied this psalm over me in March 2006, at the forefront of a journey leading me out of my cozy Christian life. If you're not familiar with the passage, I cherry-picked the most nurturing verse last night. His deliverance is the only part that doesn't terrify me. David wrote this after escaping Saul's army, and it's a war song:

“I love You, O LORD, my strength.”
The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge;
My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
And I am saved from my enemies.

The cords of death encompassed me,
And the torrents of ungodliness terrified me.
The cords of Sheol surrounded me;
The snares of death confronted me.
In my distress I called upon the LORD,
And cried to my God for help;
He heard my voice out of His temple,
And my cry for help before Him came into His ears.

Then the earth shook and quaked;
And the foundations of the mountains were trembling
And were shaken, because He was angry.
Smoke went up out of His nostrils,
And fire from His mouth devoured;
Coals were kindled by it.
He bowed the heavens also, and came down
With thick darkness under His feet.
He rode upon a cherub and flew;
And He sped upon the wings of the wind.
He made darkness His hiding place, His canopy around Him,
Darkness of waters, thick clouds of the skies.
From the brightness before Him passed His thick clouds,
Hailstones and coals of fire.
The LORD also thundered in the heavens,
And the Most High uttered His voice,
Hailstones and coals of fire.
He sent out His arrows, and scattered them,
And lightning flashes in abundance, and routed them.
Then the channels of water appeared,
And the foundations of the world were laid bare
At Your rebuke, O LORD,
At the blast of the breath of Your nostrils.

He sent from on high, He took me;
He drew me out of many waters.
He delivered me from my strong enemy,
And from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
But the LORD was my stay.
He brought me forth also into a broad place;
He rescued me, because He delighted in me.

The LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness;
According to the cleanness of my hands He has recompensed me.
For I have kept the ways of the LORD,
And have not wickedly departed from my God.
For all His ordinances were before me,
And I did not put away His statutes from me.
I was also blameless with Him,
And I kept myself from my iniquity.
Therefore the LORD has recompensed me according to my righteousness,
According to the cleanness of my hands in His eyes.

With the kind You show Yourself kind;
With the blameless You show Yourself blameless;
With the pure You show Yourself pure,
And with the crooked You show Yourself astute.
For You save an afflicted people,
But haughty eyes You abase.
For You light my lamp;
The LORD my God illumines my darkness.
For by You I can run upon a troop;
And by my God I can leap over a wall.

As for God, His way is blameless;
The word of the LORD is tried;
He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him.
For who is God, but the LORD?
And who is a rock, except our God,
The God who girds me with strength
And makes my way blameless?
He makes my feet like hinds’ feet,
And sets me upon my high places.
He trains my hands for battle,
So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
You have also given me the shield of Your salvation,
And Your right hand upholds me;
And Your gentleness makes me great.
You enlarge my steps under me,
And my feet have not slipped.

I pursued my enemies and overtook them,
And I did not turn back until they were consumed.
I shattered them, so that they were not able to rise;
They fell under my feet.
For You have girded me with strength for battle;
You have subdued under me those who rose up against me.
You have also made my enemies turn their backs to me,
And I destroyed those who hated me.
They cried for help, but there was none to save,
Even to the LORD, but He did not answer them.
Then I beat them fine as the dust before the wind;
I emptied them out as the mire of the streets.

You have delivered me from the contentions of the people;
You have placed me as head of the nations;
A people whom I have not known serve me.
As soon as they hear, they obey me;
Foreigners submit to me.
Foreigners fade away,
And come trembling out of their fortresses.

The LORD lives, and blessed be my rock;
And exalted be the God of my salvation,
The God who executes vengeance for me,
And subdues peoples under me.
He delivers me from my enemies;
Surely You lift me above those who rise up against me;
You rescue me from the violent man.
Therefore I will give thanks to You among the nations, O LORD,
And I will sing praises to Your name.
He gives great deliverance to His king,
And shows lovingkindness to His anointed,
To David and his descendants forever.

Right now, I feel like anything but a warrior. My discernment appears shot, and my blessings are quickly snatched. The alternative to being a warrior is being Satan's victim, and I don't want that either. Unless I'm both, which case God is allowing open season...

Then Job answered the LORD and said,

“I know that You can do all things,
And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted.
‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand,
Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”
‘Hear, now, and I will speak;
I will ask You, and You instruct me.’
“I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear;
But now my eye sees You;
Therefore I retract,
And I repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42:1-6)

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

My vicious circle reminds me of the scene in Groundhog Day where Bill Murray attempts to do everything perfectly to gain Andie McDowell's favor, yet always discovers a new way to sabotage himself. Each day he wakes with a fresh start -- each day ends with the same result. Inevitably, Murray finds that he cannot control factors of will. He cannot coerce McDowell to respond a particular way to his advances, thus his motivations are exposed when his progress is thwarted.

I feel that my intentions are pure, but this does not impose upon God a response. Should He deliberately expose me to Satan's attacks for the sake of demonstrating my blamelessness, I don't get a say in that. Faith alone is my only consolation. Subject to the accusation of his wife and friends, Job had to rest in his own conscience. I can't imagine the trail of doubt and confusion that must have left. Faith was exhibited through his actions, but it didn't leave his mind impervious to Satan's schemes.

This is the best I can expect of myself. The appropriate way to honor God is to demonstrate faith and allegiance, in spite of my pain. Does this guarantee eventual relief from the fight? Only if He chooses. Scripture promises that He will be present and strong in the battle when I take refuge in Him. Should His Presence be the only peace and blessing I'm allowed in this life, will I continue to remain clean?

psalm 18:19

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.

It's due time I owned this.

two drifters, off to see the world

I’m far from a genius, but a genius does not a polymath make.

While I’m certainly no da Vinci, I feel I would have benefited from his brand of education. As I’ve often said: I graduated with a liberal studies degree, and I plan to use it liberally.

I don’t purposely compartmentalize my relationships, but I’ve discovered my varied interests do not play nicely in each crowd. I must pick-’n-choose the format most appreciated within the cluster. It offers the impression of a chameleon, but honestly I do not change for each faction -- I merely offer a piece of myself.

One might say that the dilettante is best suited for apostolic work, in the sense that we will never misinterpret the context of our mission. I wonder if Paul held a similar set of skills. He was equally comfortable dabbling with the Greek philosophers as he was speaking the language of the Roman brass. Like Paul, I’m not well-versed for the sake of relevancy, but to utilize any resource at my disposal to communicate an unadulterated Gospel message. In other words, I do not present my knowledge for the sake of gaining favor with those I desire to proselytize. Rather, I allow their lives to present a context for their need of grace (they always will) and roll with the eclectic punches, if only to understand the redemptive gifts and corruptive lies within their culture.

This performs wonderfully in a ministry context and surprisingly well as a barista or bartender. However, it can deter the depth of my relationships, as each friend and loved one only gains the appreciation of one portion of my life. For not every philosopher can style his/her writing with imagination, a sporting fanatic rarely appreciates the fine arts, the majority of theologians will not enjoy gaming, and few social workers care to differentiate fine coffee, beer, or wine.

[Few homeowners want to live nomadically, and few nomads adore the idea of fatherhood.]

Having a working knowledge of many disciplines can be a lonely thing. Life has become a vain pursuit for the individual that would welcome the diversity of my mind. I know that it’s foolish to expect a full-scale appreciation for every field of learning, but is it selfish of me to hope in earnest that someone would join me in this world of discovery?

This program is in progress…

i don't want the Father; i want a vending machine

I was thankful to be back in my South Bend stomping grounds this past Saturday. My co-worker and I had this exchange...

BETH: Be honest -- who do you like better, us or Nappanee?

ANTHONY: I'm glad to be back here.

[Anthony cleans the pieces of the espresso machine.]

ANTHONY: For example, I began taking apart the portafilters the other night, and they looked at me like I was crazy.

BETH: I clean those every night.

ANTHONY: Right! They said, "We never do that." I looked at them like they were crazy and showed them the grimy mess on the inside. They said, "Yeah, that's gross." I told them it wouldn't be if they cleaned it every night like they should.

BETH: They're going to hate you working over there.

ANTHONY: I know.

I'm working through my issues (no pun intended), but my greatest workplace frustration is being treated like a model employee for doing the job as written. The way I look at it, my employer is paying me for a service rendered, same as the customer/client is paying my employer for a service rendered. If the customer/client ceased to receive the service, they would stop paying my employer. Why do others assume that doing a sufficient job is anything more than earning the wage I've been offered for my service?

This past winter, I received Employee of the Month three times in four months. I tried to convince my supervisor to stop nominating me, because I feared that others would hate me... again for doing the job I'm being paid to do. The way she looked at it, I was going above and beyond. The way I looked at it, I was doing the expressed minimum and everyone else was doing less.

Likewise, if they had ceased paying me, I would not have placed any effort into the job. That's what makes it a wage: I receive it for something I have done. I couldn't in good conscience receive that wage without providing the service, but I was justified in receiving the wage when I did, because they had offered it.

Here's where my justification turns sour:

Michael shared a word with Byron and I yesterday, and I didn't like the implications. At first, I didn't like it because it condemned me. Like most people, I don't care to be condemned. Once condemned, I didn't like it because it demonstrated how awful I treat my Heavenly Father.

Now to the one who works, his wage is not credited as a favor, but as what is due. But to the one who does not work, but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is credited as righteousness, just as David also speaks of the blessing on the man to whom God credits righteousness apart from works:

“Blessed are those whose lawless deeds have been forgiven, and whose sins have been covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the LORD will not take into account.” (Romans 4:4-8)

To the one who works...

It's scary to consider that I perceive the LORD's blessings as what is due. I long ago stopped trying to buy my Father's love, but I see where I've rendered the same transaction for other things I want. Respect, credibility, the "right" to a family? I've tried to purchase them from God's menu. Sure, I've taken no pride or accolades in my acts of obedience, but rather treat them as services rendered, earning my wage from the One that signs the checks.

Like a paycheck I bring home to pay the mortgage, there's no joy attached. I perceive it as doing what I have to do to get where I want to go.

It makes me sick to my stomach. How can I love Him and throw down quarters like He owes me a bag of chips?

The most beautiful component of the Christian faith -- the very thing that makes every other religion insufficient -- is that our faith is credited as righteousness. God blesses me despite the fact that my works are as filthy rags. Blessings are not gifts you give an employee; they are joyful offerings for one that you love.

I thought about that. This past evening reiterated how much I enjoy serving a Godly heart -- how it would suck if the recipient thought she had earned my favor by providing a service. It would break my heart. I would feel used.

Jesus, I don't want to earn a wage, whether death or righteousness. I want to live as one forgiven. I want to live as a son.

you don't have to pay -- i've got all the change

Ugh... why do I feel like everyone is getting older while I stay the same age?

Are either of us the worse for it?

Last night, I'm working with this 17-year-old kid, and we're conversing about the state of the church and the plight of the needy, like we've been friends for... seventeen years. And it's not until hours later that I recognize that I was barely short of seventeen myself when this kid was born.

Tell me again: how is the most meaningful conversation I've had all week? Where have all the cowboys gone?

I think the problem is that my peers are doing their best to fulfill life goals while I haven't ceased my dreaming. It's not that my life has been a waste; if God has decided that I best honor Him through the spurring of others, then I've done well for Him. Not to say I couldn't be more diligent, but how do I speak about reformation to those who've stopped dreaming? How can a man be challenged if he's received his reward in full?

He can't. He won't. He'll resist it at all costs.

My old ministry friend Karl once said, "I don't work with young people because I like working with young people, though I do. I work with young people because they're not ashamed to respond to their passion."

That's all this is. Age aside, I'm not expecting anything short of a reformational work of God, and the level of passion required implies a certain recklessness.

It requires playfulness and imagination.

Not the kind of imagination where we conjure up our own ideas about God and His church, but the kind that says, "I wouldn't put anything past my God. He is capable of all things."

Most importantly, He's capable of building the church He said He would.

We must first decide that the one we've built sucks. Can't get around that step. It correlates with the dreaming: if the church (as it stands) fulfills everything you've ever wanted in life, you'll fight to the death to protect its function -- same as you would your family, property, or financial portfolio. You have to be dissatisfied with an Ishmael to be open to an Isaac.

Maybe it's easier for me because I have nothing to protect. Perhaps my communion with the teenage brat is no more complicated than that. Again, it's not so much that I haven't grown up; it's that others have. We merely grew into different dreams.

If a five-year-old would join me in my dream, we would have more in common than I do with my peers. In between jumps on the trampoline, we'd discuss the glory of God on his terms. We'd climb to the treetop and marvel at His majesty. We'd read a fascinating story and laugh at His imagery.

I can't imagine doing that with a peer. I can barely muster an interesting conversation.

Okay?

i can see us dying... are we?

Over the past couple months, I've been meditating on the minor prophets. Aside from Hosea (which I've studied enough to feel as if I married Homer myself), I had never given the books more than a passing thought, only then in completing the "task" of the Old Testament.

I'm thankful that God has returned me to these living words now that I'm viewing them with the Spirit's revelation. Being a big picture guy, I'm going to see His call to the remnant wherever I read, but throughout the minor prophets, it's not a stretch. While the historical context may have spoken to a nation of exiles, He has adopted His Church as "His people," same as He did with Israel. We shouldn't be surprised if the same rebukes, corrections, and calls to obedience apply.

One such gem was found in Zephaniah. Through the first and second chapters, God proclaims his judgment over Judah for adopting their neighbors' idolatry and raises his hand against these surrounding nations. I was broken for my earthling church by Zephaniah 3:

Woe to her who is rebellious and defiled,
The tyrannical city!
She heeded no voice,
She accepted no instruction.
She did not trust in the LORD,
She did not draw near to her God.
Her princes within her are roaring lions,
Her judges are wolves at evening;
They leave nothing for the morning.
Her prophets are reckless, treacherous men;
Her priests have profaned the sanctuary.
They have done violence to the law.
The LORD is righteous within her;
He will do no injustice.
Every morning He brings His justice to light;
He does not fail.
But the unjust knows no shame.
“I have cut off nations;
Their corner towers are in ruins.
I have made their streets desolate,
With no one passing by;
Their cities are laid waste,
Without a man, without an inhabitant.
“I said, ‘Surely you will revere Me,
Accept instruction.’
So her dwelling will not be cut off
According to all that I have appointed concerning her.
But they were eager to corrupt all their deeds.

“Therefore wait for Me,” declares the LORD,
“For the day when I rise up as a witness.
Indeed, My decision is to gather nations,
To assemble kingdoms,
To pour out on them My indignation,
All My burning anger;
For all the earth will be devoured
By the fire of My zeal.” (v. 1-8)

Awesome, right? I've noticed how God typically does not pour out His justified wrath unless one of two principles apply:

1. The spiritual leadership is corrupt.
2. The people are unrepentant.

On this occasion, His people rolled the wrath-inducing Yahtzee. Even then, God offered every opportunity to repent without punishment.

It reminds me of a passage my manager Paul was excited about last week. Many of us know that Methuselah was the oldest man that ever lived. We also know that his daddy Enoch never died, but that God "took him" because he was freaking awesome in God's eyes (paraphrased). Those have been answers to Bible Flash Cards since I was in elementary school. We always wondered why Methuselah died just short of 1000. But my Sunday School teacher never integrated math into our studies. As a result, I missed the point:

Noah was six hundred years old when the floodwaters came on the earth. (Genesis 7:6)

So what?

• Methuselah was 187 when he became the father of Lamech. (6:25)
• Methuselah lived 969 years, and then he died. (6:27)
• Lamech was 182 when he became the father of Noah. (6:28)

187 + 182 + 600 = 969!

Some of you may already be aware of this information. For me, the amazing part is not that the flood began when Methuselah died. It's what Methuselah represents: God gave His people every opportunity to repent of their wickedness... during the longest life ever! Methuselah's life represented just how expansive God's grace is!

The people drowned by the flood didn't see it or appreciate it. Neither did Zephaniah's contemporaries. The king during Zephaniah's prophecy was Josiah, who happened to be the most righteous king ever (2 Kings 23:25). He demolished the standing idols and slaughtered the priests of their shrines. Josiah died defending the nation against Egypt -- within months they had set up a puppet government and were overcome by the Babylonians. One man's righteousness was God's grace upon a nation.

We are living in another such day of grace. Do not confuse God's deliberation with corporate righteousness. He loves us for sure, and wants nothing more than to refrain from judgment. But sure as anything, He desires a righteous people that proclaim His glory with their lives. And if it cannot be found within the current establishment...

“For then I will give to the peoples purified lips,
That all of them may call on the name of the LORD,
To serve Him shoulder to shoulder.
“From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia
My worshipers, My dispersed ones,
Will bring My offerings.
“In that day you will feel no shame
Because of all your deeds
By which you have rebelled against Me;
For then I will remove from your midst
Your proud, exulting ones,
And you will never again be haughty
On My holy mountain.

“But I will leave among you
A humble and lowly people,
And they will take refuge in the name of the LORD.
“The remnant of Israel will do no wrong
And tell no lies,
Nor will a deceitful tongue
Be found in their mouths;
For they will feed and lie down
With no one to make them tremble.” (Zechariah 3:9-13, emphasis added)

When God has removed the proud and blessed the meek, His people are restored. I love the visual picture of serving and worshiping "shoulder to shoulder." Not one is exalted upon a hill or receiving the honor of the people. They humbly serve alongside one another, facing forward with parallel shoulders towards the King of Kings.

even so in Christ, shall all be made alive

Despite not being a holiday person, I shared last year how much I love Easter. While it may be easier to remember individual Christmases, I’ve been around long enough to complete a Top 5 Easter List. And it’s been WAAAAAY too long since I last posted a Top 5 List.

[For those just joining the program, my Top 5s were a staple of my Xanga days, circa 2004.]

Here we go…

1. The Traditional Easter (Birth-1997) This was the normal Sunday morning service: age-appropriate Sunday School, worship with everyone, Children’s Church, go home. Wednesday meetings were similarly segregated. Easter was the one day of the year where kids spent the majority of the church day with their elders. We opened with a “sunrise service,” which is churchiology for a service before the service, where we sang triumphant hymns and “graduated” from our Sunday School classes. While the grown men were busy making breakfast, we congregated in the basement to get to know those we hadn’t seen for a year. Good times. The part I remember most is after breakfast, where my peers and I would find our new classroom and chill until an adult would arrive. Any level of madness could occur during this period of time, usually at the expense of a younger congregant. Finally, Sunday School and worship as usual -- minus the children’s church.
2. Stairway to Easter (2002) I don’t remember much, but the church employing me jumped to two services that day. The youth pastor convinced his superiors to allow a youth service during the second hour, so long as he encouraged the kids to attend first service with the adults. As an impromptu prayer session broke loose, our worship leader smiled, ad-libbing a soft melody in the background. The kids remained focused; only a couple adults noticed that the Spirit was moving through Led Zeppelin.
3. My Broken Easter (2003) Since St. Mark had not yet finished its new church building, we were allowed to use Bethel College’s fine arts building for our Easter service. It’s crazy that I could experience 24 prior Easter mornings without a breakdown, but somehow the narrative of the cross came alive to me that morning. I checked out from the pastor’s message and began writing a poem about the love of Christ. I had never known anything so beautiful and was moved to a sobbing fit. This response would become more common over the next three years.
4. Easter on the River (2008-2009)My favorite Easter mornings were spent in Frontier Park, along the banks of the Missouri River with nothing but a Bible and my voice. The quietness of Main Street on Easter morning made for a peaceful sunrise over the sparkling stream.
5. Night-night Easter (2010) After working third shift, I needed to race home for some sleep, lest I miss my mother’s cooking. God in His grace and magnificence offered this gift as I approached my car:

Worthy is the Lamb, that was slain!
And hath redeemed us to God by His blood
To receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength
And honour, and glory, and blessing!
Blessing and honour, glory and power, be unto Him
That sittith upon the throne, and unto the Lamb
For ever and ever. Amen.

-- Handel's Messiah #53 (Revelation 5:12-14)

don't forget, you only get what you give

A picture from my first grade yearbook spells out the greatest difference between youthful me and elder me. 25 kids are crowded in the entryway, impatiently awaiting the permission of our recess teacher to return to class. I’m directly front-and-center -- a moment before, the crux of the problem -- now holding a single finger up to my lips to shush the crowd, as if the first to recognize that we must be quiet to be admitted. I most certainly wasn’t, but between my own rare silence and my influence over the noisier children, another frame is unnecessary to deduce that we moved inside within seconds.

Elder me would have pouted quietly, annoyed that others could be so inconsiderate.

In high school, I was editor of the student newspaper and the male lead in the spring musical. I served as junior class vice-president and senior class president in college, primarily because I figured I could get things done.

Somewhere between my college graduation and the fateful day I left for K.C. I lost my ambition to lead. Worse, I’ve been afraid to lead others with something to lose. Perhaps elder me sees the hypocrisy in first grade Anthony and wants no part in it. Conceivably, youthful me had such little concern for others that he didn’t mind walking off a cliff, so long as the crowd was following. I’ve never been intentionally selfish, so it’s more likely in between -- this present trepidation was birthed at some hazy hour in my twenties.

Here’s the deal: I still don’t mind walking off the cliff. Through my leaderless years, I’ve done some crazy things in the name of my Lord. With no intended offense, I don’t want you coming with me. I’m sure it would be great for you, but I don’t want to bear the responsibility…

• “Why did we go here?”
• “I can’t ask that of my wife and children.”
• “I wish we had stayed put.”
• “Where do we go next?”
• “Do you even know what you‘re doing?”

A leader doesn’t have the luxury of passing the buck on these questions. A good husband doesn’t have that comfort! Moses didn’t have time to pout in the desert concerning his people’s lack of faith -- they were his people by the nature of being God‘s people. Leaders do not live in a vacuum, and I like my vacuum. I enjoy not shushing the crowd.

Most of the time.

The nagging truth is that people look to me to shush the crowd, despite my resistance. In a spirit-filled moment, I have no qualms with being the leader everyone expects. On this side of heaven, earth binds me to this flesh and it wants no part of leading. It wants to respond to crazy whims and dreams without the burden of others getting hurt. It will sacrifice itself, so long as it is fruitless for the Kingdom.

My friend told me earlier this week that it hurts him… kind of feels like damned if I do and damned if I don’t. If I lead, I fear hurting him. If I don’t, I do the very thing I fear. One is based in truth and one in a lie. If the answer is obvious, why does it make it appear cloudy?

Which holds me more responsible: leading you into spiritual ruin (at risk of losing mother, father, wife, husband, child) or living my faith in vain, in full knowledge of what you lack?

As God’s fellow workers we urge you not to receive God’s grace in vain. For he says,

“In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you.”

I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.

We put no stumbling block in anyone’s path so that our ministry will not be discredited. Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience, and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. (2 Cor. 6:1-10)

lend me an ear and i'll sing you a song (Joe Cocker / Jimmy Page style)

I used to say that four was the perfect age.

Consider this: at what other age are you autonomous enough to meet the necessities, but young enough to lean on "not knowing any better" as a valid excuse. Your classroom is life and cannot be contained in a cinder block building. The four-year-old's chief responsibility is going outside to play.

That's how I remember four. But during that year...

• Nintendo makes its debut in Japan.
• The best personal computer produces 16 colors... for those with the money to afford it.
• Diet Coke had recently been released, adding fire to the ongoing cola wars.
• Nuclear activity from the USSR is a real threat.
• Thriller tops the charts, making Michael Jackson the most beloved celebrity in the music industry. The moonwalk is performed for the first time.
• The McNugget is introduced. McDonald's targets children with an aggressive advertising campaign.
• Darth Vader is unmasked, producing a house full of "Oooooohs" at the downtown movie theater. (Hayden Christensen had just turned two a month before.)

It's human nature to glorify culture and time in our heads. It must be akin to my Lake County kids talking my ear off about being back in Gary. It's never quite how we remember it.

those were the best days of my life

A year earlier, it had started with a "swirlie." Not one of my finer moments.

I was happy to leave for Northern Ireland. My parents had not yet received my college report card, thus were unaware that I had failed my first class. For that matter, I had never received lower than a C+ (and had been grounded on those rare occurrences). I pushed aside my impending doom, setting out to climb hills, drink tea, and play soccer (poorly) with the locals. This trip marked flannel's last hurrah:

I returned to receive a painful, but surprisingly short-lived reprimand -- my dad didn't talk to me for five days after his initial wrath. Besides, it was summer camp season and we didn't need to dwell on my spring failures. For the fifth straight summer, I would counsel kids entering 4th-8th grade. That was, before I received the call.

My camp director (Ken) delicately exercised the accusation. He couldn't imagine two of his veterans would be stupid enough to give a 14-year-old a swirlie. He didn't know me well. I was entirely stupid enough. The kid himself had no issues with the act -- we had lowered him into the recently cleaned bowl after he made a derogatory comment about a female camper. A year later, he was laughing about the punishment to his family and was hoping I would be his counselor again. His grandmother was not amused.

Ken didn't want to fire me, but couldn't justify doing nothing, what with lawsuits becoming popular and whatnot. I told him not to sweat it and to find someone else; I could find more hours at the grocery store.

Little did I know, my hours were spoken for. Anticipating my absence, the head manager at Woodies Supermarket had hired a replacement. My immediate supervisor (Deron) had begun a Prodigal Son's tour of the retail industry, and I was without an advocate. I called Deron on the phone, and he told me I could unload truck at the Save-A-Lot which now employed him, a run of the mill discount store of Aldi-like renown and clientele. 5am was punch-in time. Wonderful.

My absence at camp left its mark, but allegedly a new counselor named "Bob" had taken my place. For the remainder of the summer, Bob heard my name; I read his through various camper snail-mail. Didn't know if I cared for this Bob. Nobody likes to feel adequately replaceable.

In the meantime, I spent the early summer driving at 4:30 in the morning to Semisonic, Eagle Eye Cherry, and Everlast. Closing time was my opening time. It didn't prevent me from staying up until the wee hours playing NHL '99 with Brett and Gene. Before cell phones and online gaming, young men found more productive ways to pass the daytime hours:

I was told that Backstreet was back. We sang in agreement. I didn't mind that Anakin couldn't act, because I was in love with the girl playing Padme Amidala. 4th of July fireworks couldn't be spoiled by chiggers, and Deron was about to make a drunken return home to Woodies. Yes, an honest, drunken confrontation works in places other than the movies.

My phone rang again halfway through the summer. The Teen Camp director had received clearance from Ken to hire me if he'd like. God must of been orchestrating something, because grace had been a previously foreign substance. He asked me to arrange the bus driver schedule (I knew there was a catch), and I showed up in early August to spend time with these cats:

I spoke of this crew previously, so I won't overstate the point. Suffice it to say, the unexpected changed my life.

On the last day of camp, I was asked if I would like to drive 14 hours to work a camp in Pennsylvania. What else did I have going?

[Who rode shotgun with me? Bob. We've been cordial ever since.]

That was the summer of '99.

singin' this will be the day that i die

[reflection check]

Ever had a moment so defining that life could never return to its prior state, no matter how much truth is shed? Ten years ago this month, my inclination towards optimism was shattered. Sent on a tailspin of poetry writing, prehistoric blogging, and Bebo Norman (hah!), my first heartache forced me to face my fleshly idols and fears. I didn't like it one bit.

Initially, my relationships took the most direct hit. I didn't want to grow close to people, and I drowned my time with ministry. Over the next four years, I spent nearly every hour with teenagers... aside from the occasional video game session with my roommates.

I learned the art of serving in the flesh. Camp and church were more than happy to raise me on a pedestal, and the idol of romance was scratched through a different audience. I didn't consider dating much; Kelly Clarkson became the ideal woman, mostly because she wasn't real.

The problem with masking the issue is that it begs to be unveiled. After dealing with the pain associated with my loss, I still fought the rebuilding of me. My experience -- not my pain -- had developed my pessimism; seemingly, experience alone could redeem the optimistic imagination of my youth. I found this akin to mistaking the color blue for red. Regardless of what others perceive, how do I trick my brain into identifying a different color than one seen, though through a tainted lens?

It requires more than a mantra. Many mornings I've awaken to the chirp of birds and vowed to make a change, as if I can convince myself that the world would be less cruel. Not surprisingly, my connotation of justice is skewed.

By God's hand or my own stubbornness, I've floundered in the wilderness, searching for my own childish imagination. Faith is not far from this place. Grasping in the wind brings me no closer, because only His Spirit refreshes my soul. He's ruined me to find solace in His courts and romance in His grace. Should I find a similar appeal in this world and life, it won't be through these hands.

When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart's delight, for I bear your name, O LORD God Almighty. I never sat in the company of revelers, never made merry with them; I sat alone because your hand was on me and you had filled me with indignation. Why is my pain unending and my wound grievous and incurable? Will you be to me like a deceptive brook, like a spring that falls?

Therefore this is what the LORD says:

"If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me; if you utter worthy, not worthless, words, you will be my spokesman. Let this people turn to you, but you must not turn to them. I will make you a wall to this people, a fortified wall of bronze; they will fight against you but not overcome you, for I am with you to rescue and save you," declares the LORD. (Jeremiah 15:6-20)