Journal: #251 10,000 FT View Of My Life

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Being a human, in my experience, is wild.

Yesterday, I sat in my automobile and drove over one-hundred miles from the coast of California through the Trinity Mountains to valley west of the Cascade Mountains. Before my drive, I conversed with a 60 year-old minister from Florida via video conference. I conducted the chat from a room I rented from a stranger I found on the internet. We discussed her business and strategies to put her message into the ears of receptive listeners. What a life. What a time to be alive.

I sat in silence during the ride home back to Redding. I could’ve listened to music or a podcast, but I decided to enjoy the sound of the road. The sun was high in sky and only a few thin clouds joined her. On occasion I imagined I was in a race, choosing my line as the road weaved through mountains. While I drove, my thoughts bounced from my marketing clients to the beauty of northern California to the Lord. It was the perfect day for a solo drive back to my norm.

This week I spoke to friends and family alike, people battling tragic situations and threatening health problems. In these moments, life feels untamable. Why did my best friend lose his brother to cancer at the ripe age of 34? Will my roommate ever value himself, his time, and his dreams? It’s been ten months- I should be over her by now. What’s the pattern to any of this? How can we predict what’s to come? The plain truth is we can’t.

This is my life. It’s full of glory and grace, wonder and mystery, heart ache and sorrow. I wouldn’t exchange it with another. I wouldn’t trade my debts, excess body fat, or singleness for anything. (Which is not to say I desire to remain in each state, but I will not shame myself or wallow in self-pity over them.) The life I live was given to me by God. My family, my friends, and even my ex’s were God ordained. Whatever is left of my life, the end unknowable, I will thank the Lord for every second I am given.

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A: Why Are We Surprised

Why are we surprised when resistance raises a hoard against us?

When did we start to believe life was an easy stroll down the lane?

What history book or person of age lied with such constancy?

Do the mountains endure the whips of the wind? Pounding of the rain?

Do the trees withstand the storm surge? Dodge lighting?

And what of the river? Its bed a record of endless change?

Indeed, why are we surprised when the wind howls hard against our face?

Where is it written we should expect anything less?

No, we should not expect less.

My Lord, teach us to take our eyes off the storms of circumstance and our fruitless need to control the flow of life.

Let us be like the enduring mountain, a monument to your Glory.

Let us be like the trees, a shelter to the weak, and fresh air to the weary.

May we always live in the reality of the river, that we are full of life and purpose, a source of joy and peace.

Thank you for the sunny hour and cool of the day.

My Prophetic Reality

I am one of those brave (or stupid) souls who claim to be able to hear God speak. Even more so, I admit I believe He can and does speak to everyone. I hold onto this belief despite the broken promises and a stack of WTF moments.

I wish I had better story to write for this post. I wish I could point to a litany of prophetic happenings and glory, but my prophetic reality doesn’t seem to sing that song. And I prefer not to do spiritual and mental jujitsu when it comes to the pain. (Prophetic people love to justify why something didn’t happen.) Therefore, the belief I’ve maintained, since my mid 20′s, is the prophetic is a place of pain. But what if it isn’t? 

It helps to recognize a simple fact: Just because God said it, doesn’t make it automatic. Adam and Eve in the Garden? Remember that one? God supposedly said they’d die if they ate from the Tree of Good and Evil…took nine hundred years. Jonah? He was angry with God. Why? Because God told him to go to Nineveh and proclaim “in 40 days you will be overthrown.” Jonah knew God is a “gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.” The city was not destroyed. Jonah did not like playing a fool.

Jonah knew God wasn’t going to destroy the city.

These days, most of us don’t live in the turn-or-burn prophetic reality. We tend to exist an ear-tickling environment full of “suddenlies” and “break through” and “blessing.” And I just might puke if I have to endure another “God sees you as a flower” prophetic word. 

My experience with the prophetic seemed uneven at best (although I do have list of truly fantastic prophetic moments I will eventually share.) Like I said earlier, as time passed I began to loathe the prophetic. I couldn’t hear God, or what I heard wasn’t what was said, or my interpretation always seemed to be off. Which naturally lead to atheistic thoughts. 

However, I see now I am entering a new era in my life. 2020 is my year of moving onward toward my great destiny with Jesus. And for the first time, it’s unconnected to circumstance. I think most if not all of my previous personal prophetic interpretations were linked to circumstance. I can definitively say circumstance is not what Jesus was after, and it’s not a place to define life. 

Some of the happiest and loving people on the planet have nothing. And suicide rates are roughly the same across social economic status- meaning wealth is not a mental/emotional insulator. 

I think if God were to manage me based on circumstance, I’d be a petulant child. My interpretation of His love and care for me would come down to my bank account and “adoring fans.” That’s not His way. Our Father wants a real relationship, not something based on transactions of praise or religious dedication. 

Perhaps I’m about to discover what the prophetic really is. I’m ready to move beyond the immature suffering- the my hurt-based judgement. God is good and speaks to those who listen. 

Lord, let my ears hear with an open mind and unfiltered heart. 

My Friend Gratitude

I’m not sure why self-pity or anger seem like the easier roads to walk. Perhaps they aren’t. It is entirely possible it’s easy for me because I’ve practiced running to their open arms most of my life. 

I have an embarrassing memory from my childhood to demonstrate my point. I was eight maybe nine years-old, and I can’t recall the particular offense. What I can recall, with vivid detail, is being so upset I wrote a letter to my parents, and let my tears fall onto the paper to punctuate my frustration and pain. (LOLOLOL What a scam.) Even then, at a young age, I felt sorry for myself. 

I’m kinda glad my parents didn’t feed my self-pity in those moments. Emotional intelligence wasn’t a thing in the 80′s, but neither was indulging every childish outburst. 

Five-ish years ago, I started my current engagement with Gratitude. I’m stoked to say what began as a method to combat anxiety and depression evolved into something exceeding my expectations. I now know Gratitude is about more than comparison or thankful excess. 

Gratitude is finding joy in a past relationship despite its end.

It’s celebrating the pure and good of every imperfect moment. 

It’s being present, stopping to notice the perfect of each moment. 

It’s also part knowing…it could always be worse. 

Ultimately, Gratitude is knowing life is gift, a wonderful gift. And our time in it is meant for the good and the pure, not hung up in failure and misery. Failure and misery are part of the deal, but they do not have to be “the deal.” Our hearts, minds, and bodies were meant to live and be alive- to drink every last ounce of joy from this Earth as possible. 

Without Gratitude, none of this is possible. 

“Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it out. Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.”

1 Thessalonians 5:15-18

At 40, I’m Ready to Live

“With You[Jesus], there is no beginning or end, just being. And I aim to be me the rest of what I’ve got to live. My bag is full of wisdom to be applied, not dusty useless memories. I’m hauling valuable nuggets of truth and grace- treasures to share to the thirsty, and those ready to move onward.”

The above is part of a prayer I wrote last night. The beginning of this same prayer centered on the scattered state of my thoughts. The last month my brain has been on overload- creative thoughts, mixed with processes, big emotions, random opinions, long desires, and hope. And some fears. 

This morning on my walk, I shed a few tears while talking to the Holy Spirit. My brain likes to do its own thing, and I am exhausted by all the cranial activity. I’m going to have to learn how to focus on a few things rather than considering the whole. And I believe I will. 

The thing is, at almost 40 years old, I can see my life as load of treasure. Which seems somewhat odd. On the surface it’s doesn’t seem like much- lots of cooking, masturbating, some Jesus, some friends, a trip here and there, lots of debt, self-doubt, failed relationships, obesity, weed, and personal growth. Seems fairly basic to me. 

But it isn’t. I couldn’t see it for a while, but I’ve been moving up the mountain- not mired in the valley. I know how to overcome fear and beat obesity. I know the answer to porn addiction and fantasy jerk-offs isn’t as simple “stop doing that.” I’ve found answers to self-pity, anxiety, and hopelessness, been suicidal multiple times. I know how fucked that place is. Given the state of the world…don’t we need that? Don’t we need people preaching/teaching/sharing practical hope and joy? Don’t we need people who’ve been in the shitter, lost in a desperation, but found a path to Life?

So yeah. 30 something years of shit is suddenly pure gold. Wouldn’t change a thing. I’m ready to shine a light on the path to Life, and it’s a path everyone can walk.

Bring on 40.