Death IS The Real Problem

The unbelievable tragedy in Connecticut is wrong on many levels.  And on every level, with every issue there are sides to argue.  Most of us instinctively pick one.  We disagree, or at least we see the issues differently.  If you spend a few minutes on the internet, you will find wildly divergent perspectives, charged with intense emotion.  Interestingly, the conflict on these issues, especially when the issue is the main connection (rather than the relationship), rarely ends in resolution.  More often than not, it ends in greater anger, judgement and separation.  

Why You Shouldn't Go To Church - And If You Are... Stop

The institutional Christian church has nearly always been a mess.  I assume there were a few weeks or so after Pentecost where God’s spirit was so powerfully received and the people’s understanding of their (juxtaposed) depravity and blessing was so poignant that they just could not help themselves and they truly lived in love and grace without regard to each others failings.  However, for the most part, from the time people began gathering on a regular basis to practice religion, they have been doing it wrong.  I myself have experienced primarily Christian church so I’ll be speaking from that perspective.  But as far as I can tell, the same issue haunts nearly every religion known to man.  

How To Feel Jesus In Some Not-So-Simple Steps

It’s been a rough summer.  My allergies this year were weird.  I’ve had hay-fever since the summer of my fifteenth year - the year I worked at the Faulkenberg’s, stumbling under a five gallon pack of RoundUp and chopping thistles in the middle of yellow fields of hay.  My hay-fever normally manifests itself with watery, itchy eyes, violent sneezing and unexplainably large portions of uncontrollable mucus that end up spraying with the sneezes and nose blowing.  I’ve developed a skill with this that comes in handy during on runs and bike rides.  Plug a nostril, lean to the side while twisting my head and blow.  Usually snot is deposited where I intend. 

Why Don't We Heal Each Other

Why don’t we heal each other?  As my blog header says, I’m a failure.  While my failing has almost nothing to do with finances or position, the changes I’ve experienced are measurable in those ways.  I have less money and a lower position than I thought I would at 44.  I’m midlife, and typical midlife measurements say I am a failure.

I know, I know, it’ll get better, I shouldn’t worry, God is at work – and look at all the other failures I can minister to.  There is more to the story.  I’m not really being sarcastic.  At least within my sarcasm, I do acknowledge a different reality than what appears on the surface.  I get it.  It’s through the difficult times in life that we are humbled, learn to rely on God, grow in character, and stumble over the important truths we would never otherwise gain.  All that is most definitely true.  Seriously.

A Productive Cough

Dear Neighbor,

This is not another quick and easy way to figure life out, yours or someone else’s.  Hopefully, you will not find a list of steps to achieve something or little clusters of tips and tricks in the margins.  If you do find them… beware – they are tricks (not mine).  I have no magical formula to offer and no quick fix. 

This is an invitation.  It is a challenge.  I am passing it on.  It was extended to us a couple thousand years ago by a man named Jesus who claimed to be The Savior of the World.  I believe his claim.  If you don’t already, I invite you to investigate.  Follow him a while; listen to him with your heart.  Watch what he does and how it affects people.  Work shoulder to shoulder with him.  See who he leads you to and what they ask of you and offer to you.  Experience his generosity, his restfulness, his mirth, mystery and his miraculous ability to live in exactly the right sized moments.   I promise, if you are willing, you will be amazed.  If you do believe his claim – do the same thing.  You’ll be amazed more and more again. 

Cold Feet

feet on floor

Ah yes, I think I woke up.  At the very least, I can tell that the bottoms of my feet are colder than they should be if they are still ensconced under the covers.  Probably means they are resting on the concrete floor by my bed and I haven’t found my fluffy slippers yet.  I’m not sure this really qualifies as woke up, but it is a great comparison.  I spend so much time upright and moving without being attentive.  I notice this lack of awareness when I’m gently jolted into interest.  I’m embarrassed that I spend so much time like a zombie.  Just moving forward, concerned only with what I will consume next, unaware that what I consume does not nourish.  Why live as a zombie if I’m not dead?

Good Things for a Bad Person?

It is a scary place, this spinning speck of dirt caught between the tide of heaven and hell.  When my imagination brings some meaning to the information my brain is collecting, I am so relieved to know I am saved from the terror.  It’s scary to know I am so close and it is so easy, so regular to end up drifting in ignorance, rebellion and abject stupidity into the abyss. 

I am at odds with my base desires when I soften to the strong, quiet affections of Jesus.  But, oh, it is a worthy effort to let go and rest in them.

Is FB Like Porn?

I’m having a change of mind.  I may be having a change of heart but it takes a bit longer.  This change of mind is in testing phase and my heart rarely gets totally involved with my mind unmade.  For all recent history, skepticism dominated my perspective on social media.  I’ve agreed with many that it fosters shallow, disconnected, voyeuristic communication.  It’s lazy.  Too easy to sit glassy eyed, surfing and commenting to be funny or interesting.  Too possible to replace real and risky with safe and anonymous, even secret.  I can watch the offerings of another supposed life and never be noticed by them, somehow, mysteriously included but never drawn in. 

It’s like porn. 

Shoe Armor

 It’s all about the shoes.  At least for me, this time, the shoes were the critical factor. 

I am a runner.  I am not a fair weather runner.  I am not a competitive runner.  I run to be outside, to pray, to live well, to think clearly and to know that I can run.  I catch myself, sometimes, watching my feet change places rhythmically - hypnotic forward momentum.  It’s amazing to watch my body adapt to longer faster distances.  I love country roads and the frogs croaking, crickets chirping while the trees turn dark against the wide color changing sky.  It makes me chuckle and holler with unbridled, happy energy. 

A while ago, I got a new pair of wrong shoes.

Letter To Old Men

Dear Older Men,

We respectfully request the honor of your presence on the battlefield for our lives.  The tactics of the enemy are overwhelmingly successful.  It is evident that there is no longer hope for an immediate solution.  The enemy’s attack requires weaponry we are not sufficiently able to operate.  We are loosing this battle and many more will, according to the score of casualties, be lost by us.  It is now incumbent, upon those who are able and willing, to inspire the survivors and train the untested.  While this must be done with vigor and urgency, we believe it can only be done over time.  Please confirm.