Vol III: #65 The Asbury Revival

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I heard about the Asbury revival almost as soon as it started two weeks ago, a benefit of technology and my loose association with revival culture. The revival community is small but well connected. News- welcome or alarming- moves at the speed of wifi. As if by plan and within days, the revival appeared to spread across the country, from Asbury in Kentucky to cities like Austin, Charlotte, and Redding. Lots of mostly young-ish people, dancing and singing, worshipping, as if compelled to act beyond their normal capacity. This is what is called a move of the Spirit.

Because of Asbury and the Spread, revival became a hot topic of conversation within my community, the reaction of my friends diverse and revealing. Eliab is thrilled, Mario focused on the “long-term effect,” and Ryan cynical. I admit my thoughts land somewhere between what will come of this and who gives a shit. And then I remembered some old friends- Blake, George, Evan, Stephan, and Patrick- eagerly driving to Florida and California to be in the presence of a revival. When they got back, they’d pray for days, keeping the spark alive for a while. These were precious moments when spirits were high and the future certain, full of wonder and possibilities.

Eventually, for these lads, motivations shifted and life happened. Reality is no one escapes the ups and downs of human life because they we part of a revival. As I sit and type, one of them is dead, one is no longer a Christian, one is struggling with alcoholism and a divorce, and the other two are navigating lives as married men with families. And it wasn’t just us- the eager but immature- who struggled. Our entire community collapsed, despite the Holy Ghost encounters or how real it all felt.

So for these kids in Asbury or Redding, I pray they take the moment home with them. I pray they write down what they experienced, thought, and felt. I pray they form a collective memory, and tell the stories over and over. But more than that, I pray they stop, to step back from the moment. And they let the eyes of their soul swing to a wide view. The over arching message of every revival, every encounter, no matter when or where, is the Lord is good, He is real, and He loves you. And life is not a revival, an endless spiritual high. Death and failure and disappointment are coming for you. What will sustain them is what always sustains the Christian. So, my most earnest prayer for these kids is they use this momentum to dive deep into the Lord. That they would live Matthew 6:33, to seek the Lord first and always, everyday.

The Lord has chosen to love us and be in us (Emmanuel.) We must chose to love and be in Him in return.

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Vol III: #64 Divorce Is Bad

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Today, an idiot, duly elected by people in Georgia, expressed her belief the United States should be split into Red and Blue states. She called for a “national divorce” which means she wants to see the end of the United States as we know it. She went on to say she spoke to people everyday who share her perspective. To say these things on Presidents Day, to invalidate the work and sacrifice of men and woman dating back almost two-hundred and fifty years, is disheartening and alarming to me.

The thing is, I understand the sentiment given by the representative from Georgia. I had similar thoughts and ideas for a while. I too saw the gap between right and left as unfixable, and then I decided to believe in hope and truth. Almost 150 years ago, southern men wanted their own country, to live as they saw fit. A violent and bloody Civil War crushed those aspirations and left a scar still visible on the souls of native southerners. And the fight to keep the Union intact was the right fight. President Lincoln was right. A divided United States doesn’t help defeat Germany in World War I or World War II. And we aren’t strong enough to stand up to the Communists. Yes. Lincoln was right.

Whatever we think about our political opponents, we need each other. Liberals need conservatives to remind them of immutable rights like free speech and religious conviction. And conservatives need liberals to remind them that all people are God’s people. You can’t just treat people however you like because they come from another country or have a different world view or skin tone. And let me be clear, I don’t like the progressive, woke, anti-constitutional tone currently leading the American left. They bother me as much as the nationalist, cultish leanings of the modern GOP.

The world needs US. Together. One nation, under God. Even if some don’t believe in it.

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Vol III: #63 Shaking and Quakin’

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“Revival has broken out at the school. The Lord is doing really amazing things! It’s so good. You should come.” This was the admonishment given to me recently by my friend Eliab. We haven’t been friends for too long so I doubt he detected my cynical reaction. Instead, he continued to describe the scene at Bethel, one full of shouting and singing, flopping bodies and “something breaking lose.” Each word felt like nails on a chalkboard, but instead of a chalkboard, his words were nails across my heart.

I’ve seen people shake and shout and confess their sins. I’ve watched dirty old men proclaim there redemption and women dance like the world depended on it. And for some, perhaps most, it is an fleshly act, one they so desperately want to be true. Alternatively, for some, perhaps only a few, they are having an encounter with God Almighty. It is for the few that I kept my mouth shut as Eliab continued to describe events unimportant to me.

Outpourings are common at Bethel. And they tend to look identical. I knew that before I attended their school. I knew their “we owe the world an encounter with God” mantra. And I knew they prized the yelling and screaming and dramatic displays of the Holy Ghost. The senior pastors and leaders are, after all, spiritual descendants of the Azusa Street Revival. They don’t do quiet, solemn, or calm. And they take commandments to shout, dance, and heal the sick literally. I knew all this.

The real rub is I know it takes all kinds. It takes all kinds of moments and experiences to attract people to the Lord. For some, it’s revival as described by my friend Eliab. For others, it’s more private and intimate and all the variations in between. The Lord meets us where we are and we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be jealous of what the Lord does to or with someone else. I encounter the Lord through great art and the beauty of snow-capped mountains, which is odd to some fellow Christians. Sounds like I’m a hippy or New Age-y. So I ask, isn’t the point of all this, flopping or art or music, to turn our hearts toward Him? Seems to me the Holy Spirit uses more than a nightcrawler to bait the hook.

I think my true resentment comes from feeling unappreciated by churchy folks. Do I really care if people quake and shout? No. But what if they are faking? Nope. Not really my business either. What hurts my heart is when I tell someone I cried in wonder while staring at painting and they give me the confused dog response and push the conversation forward. But then if I said I was “drunk” or sobbed into the carpet during worship, the backslaps wouldn’t stop coming. Intellectually, I understand it’s a cultural value where emphasis is placed on the outward display of the Lord’s power and presence. When, in fact, Jesus is at the center of both moments, one no more important than the other. Still sucks to be unappreciated.

Thankfully, the Lord doesn’t give a damn about my resentment or self-pity. And I know these revivals are good and necessary. I look forward to the day when we see any encounter with Jesus as good and necessary, regardless of location or physical display. And what a day it’ll be, when God is allowed to love His people without our prejudice or judgment.

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Vol III: #62 New Job

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Wasn’t too long ago I wrote about needing a job. And then, magically or randomly, a sales role landed in my lap. No resume needed, no real interview required. Two friends vouched for my character and experience and the job was mine. Today I began to swim in this new stream. It feels familiar yet different- emails, sales projections, and client meetings, but no office or rah-rah company culture. My role as a sale manager will test what I know and push me to be better than I ever was. And, I will be paid better than any previous job. So, win-win. Right?

As I see it, the real prize isn’t a more prestigious job title or more money. The true gift is the leaders on the team, and this is an answer to prayer too. I asked for leadership training and I’m going to get it. What a blessing. And from men who have integrity and grace. Seriously and for a second time, what a freaking blessing.

I don’t know what will come over the next three months or the year after, but I do know my new job is a gift from the Lord. My goal is to extract every ounce of learnin’ and growin’ I can. And buy my momma a fancy vacation for Christmas.

Thank you Lord.

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Vol III: #61 Meth And Love

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“Fuck you anyway, asshole!” shouted the dusty, meth rattled, woman from the sidewalk outside Raley’s supermarket. She looked pitiful enough and my heart was sad for her. My sin was I had looked the other way as she stood with her sign and thus deserved her curse. As I drove off, I looked in the rearview for a last glimpse. She was emaciated, skin tanned and scabbed, her hair matted and oily. Beside her were two trash bags. I wondered what they held. Addicts tend to sell anything of value as quick as they can, so it had to be blankets or coats- something valuable enough to lug up and down Lake Boulevard but not valuable enough to sell.

When I pulled into the driveway I turned the car off and thought about the poor lady. Meth was her master now and whatever she said or did was in service to him. The addiction isn’t what bothers me. What bothers me about the addict outside the supermarket was her lack of self-worth. She knows her condition better than I ever will, but she doesn’t know how loved she is. This sister lives in a violent, ruthless world. Everything has a price and trust is a fantasy. Meth is the only guarantee.

I know how she feels. I know what it’s like to feel abandoned and truly alone in life. I was jobless, all the doors shut, even to bus tables or wash dishes. My roommate began to distance himself from me, always busy with friends or work. And at my worst, he belittled me when the rent was late. Unable to cope, I swam ever deeper into self-pity. I hated who I was and believed I would never rise from the despair. When I shopped for groceries, I hated everyone I passed and from my beat up truck I sneered at happy couples strolling through the neighborhood. I didn’t know or believe I was loved, not by the Lord, or my parents, or my friends.

It was the Lord who delivered me from all, because He loves me. What my friend on the sidewalk needs isn’t money or meth. She needs love. And I pray she accepts it.

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Vol III: #60 Words

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Communication is a wonderful thing was the first thought in my waking mind early this morning. Then I pictured a few of our techniques like head nods, hand signals, and whistles. And then I thought about words, flowing, specific and meaningful words- even when the words themselves have no meaning. What a precious gift, to be able to talk and shout and sing. Of course, my favorite is the written word, the record of doing, feeling, and thinking. Yes, to write and speak is a blessing and miracle, to listen and understand, and by understanding connect, and through connection love, and with love be kind or generous, forgiving and patient.

Everything good and possible starts with words.

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Vol III: #59 Matthew 633 Is Real

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I’ve posted blogs to Fearless Grit for two and half years, and this post is the one I’ve longed to write. And today’s post is the product of a good God and my commitment to being whole, holding nothing against anyone and believing the best is yet to come. What I will confess in the following paragraphs isn’t profound or original. I’m not trying to be. Today is about the joy of feeling whole and unbound by failure.

Certain dates stick in our minds like a grease stain on our favorite sweatshirt. For me, January 13th, March 8th, and May 31st were embedded in my conscious. And no amount of forgiveness, anger, or intoxication erased them. Each day was tied to a particular lady and what I thought would be between us, but then those dates became sour and annoying. And I can’t count how many times I prayed, “Lord, just take this from me. I don’t even want her, or anything from her, I just want to move on. No apologies or explanations needed.” Then today happened. I sensed the shift when I woke up: it is finished.

I stated aboveI have nothing profound to offer. But today, and without reason, my heart and mind finally moved on. I can’t explain the relief, contentment, and joy I feel. No more anger. No more bitterness. No more fear of dating. This is a work only the Holy Spirit can do, and I praise God for answering my prayers.

Everything that follows is what I’ve heard from friends and family, and what I told myself. To explain it as best I can, and in the simplest terms, my soul latched onto the truth. I am a man of destiny because I walk with Jesus. Whatever I lose has a purpose. He has saved from sins, the wrong people, and death. (And by wrong people I don’t mean murders and crackheads. Well, yes murders and crackheads, but also the wrong friends, a less than best wife, and poor career choices.) And this guidance is a far greater gift than amount of money, success, or honor. I am living proof of the Matthew 6:33 promise. I’ve seek the Lord with intention, every day, and He cares for my needs.

Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. Whatever is lost will be redeemed, and you will know the Lord is good.

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Vol III: #58 Gotta Forgive, It’s Magic

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I’m not going to wax poetic or take write more than paragraph to drive home my point today. Forgiveness is vital to walking with the Lord and learning to love. And unfortunately, forgiveness often feels like a weakness or a requirement. We hear it mockingly thrown at us by our opponents, and the enemy will remind us of forgiveness to shame us when we hold onto pain and grief.

Forgiveness is a choice, it’s love, and it is a sign of strength. For starters, the Lord is always forgiving us, each of us, all the time. And He would not command us to do something we cannot do. Secondly, ask Jesus said, the more we forgive, the more we increase our capacity to love. Show me a bitter and vengeful person, I’ll should you someone who can’t forgive or actively chooses not to forgive. Lastly, true forgiveness requires a strong heart. We don’t forgive as a means to control or manipulate the other person. We forgive to release ourselves of a burden. And in doing so, we find the power to move on, toward our destiny. I find it useful to add “and I release them from any debt owed to me” when I engage my super power.

And make no mistake, forgiveness is like magic, a true power. Show me the man or woman leading a movement, building a business, or creating big things, and I’ll show you someone unburdened by their wounds or enemies. The most modern example we have was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He lead a movement based on Jesus’ commands to love and forgive. He wasn’t special but he did possess special powers, and we can have them too.

And now a few more tidbits:

1) Forgiveness is not a technique or method to control others. Don ‘t expect them to change because you cancelled their debts.

2) Forgive as often as necessary. Once the enemy knows someone hurt or offended you, he’s going to use your pain to hold you back. Practice rebuking that asshole and forgiving the people whenever you’ve allowed the offense to take root.

3) Forgive everyone, including yourself and the Lord. Yep. I just wrote that. Forgive the Lord. This might seem prideful but answer this: have you ever been anger at the Lord? Wondered why someone died or suffered abused? Ever shook your first at the sky and screamed “WTF GOD?!” If yes, then I advise you to let go of what you thing the Lord owes you.

4) Boundaries are still a thing if when we forgive. Again, forgiveness is not about the other person or side. If someone is abusive, gossipy, or complains non-stop, you don’t have to suffer their sin. Love is patient doesn’t mean we’ve have to sit and listen to an endless stream of bullshit or standby while someone abuses others.

That’s all y’all. Enjoy your Thursday.

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Vol III: #57 Walk On

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When I arrived in Redding almost nine years ago (it’ll be nine years in 28 days), I was absorbed into a loving and generous community. My new friends were confident and attentive and let me be me. We ate delicious food, drank our share of whiskey, and smoked cigarettes late into many spring nights. And then life lurched on, each person moving on in their own way. Some went to college in Chico, one couple decided to move to the east coast, two more got married- though not to each other- and I began to spend more time with friends from work. I manage to stay in touch with most of that community but it is sparse, in what a mounts to a few texts a year and the one off phone call.

I’ll always be grateful for Ryan and Maggie (who lent me her car when I didn’t have one), Daniel, Israel and Ang, Nic and Suzy. They welcomed me and endured my broke state like I was travel weary immigrant in need of warm and safety. They showed me how beat down I’d become but also how life can be joyful. They did all this without heavy words or manipulation. It was the Lord rewarding me and He knew I needed them.

Last week, I realized once again, life is moving forward. And, I must leave some people behind. Where I’m going they ain’t coming with. They are more of the 9-5, four weeks of paid vacation, want to retire and die in Arizona type of people. While I find no fault in that type of vision, it ain’t me. I’ve got a lot of creating to do, maybe some more ministry school, and another big move. I suppose it’s best to let go now and focus on what I need to do.

This is how life is when you’re single and part of a community of people coming and going. Change is the only constant and it’s better to enjoy what comes rather than bemoan what is lost. I’ve learned to love and release like fly-fisher in the Sacramento, and now I have friends all over the world. Still, a receding friendship can sting even when I know it’s for the best. Like the community I met my first night in Redding, I’m thankful for Nathan and Kaiten, Alex and Hudson. They blessed my life and I hope I blessed them, and now, it’s time to walk on.

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Vol III: #56 Luke 2, Part II

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I am grateful to have the Bible, both the Old and New Testaments. And when I read Luke 2, I was reminded that Jesus, all the priests, and scribes only read the Old Testaments. So it astounds me to know Jesus read the Psalms written by David and told us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” This commandment is not a prominent part of the Old Testament. A handful of verses in the Torah and Proverbs speak to specific acts of kindness toward an enemy, but stacked against the endless Psalms calling for violent justice, those versus are few and spread thin. Overall, the Old Testament is focused on one tribe’s relationship with God, and outsiders are generally belittled.

In a similar way, Jesus referred to God as Father. Here again, several OT scriptures refer to Yaweh as a Father, but it’s impersonal and distant. These verses see God as Father of the Law who performed acts of fatherhood and nothing more. Jesus experienced the Lord as a true Father, present and active and relational. He set the tone for what is possible for us.

To know Jesus read the same scripture I do and was empowered to love the way He did, it’s an encouragement to me. And at the same time, breaks my heart when I see Christians referring to Old Testament scriptures on how to respond to attacks. Without Love, we are no greater than those trying to destroy us. Without a sense of who our Father is and how present He is, we are anxious orphans fumbling through life. Thankfully, we have more than a set of duties and sacrifices. And I’m grateful Jesus set the record straight regarding our Father and the importance of Love.

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Vol III: #56 Luke 2, Part I

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I began reading Luke this week. It’s my favorite Gospel because it the most complete Gospel. Most historians believe it to be the latest arrival of the so-called synoptic Gospels, which is why is seems to be more full of descriptions and explanations than Mark or Matthew. (Luke is also the longest book in the new testament by number of verses and words.)

Today I read Luke 2, the story of Jesus’ birth, the shepherd visit, and his 12 year-old visit to Jerusalem for Passover. I paused over the sections of the shepherds’ encounter with an angel. With my eyes closed I pictured a cool night on a hillside and then a burst of light, an angel, then many angels, and instruction on where to find “a Savior.” And then, the angels leave and the shepherds are left to act or stay with their flock, the night sky hung back in the same place it always was. Of course, we know they chose to leave their sheep- presumably in the care of a trusted friend or two- in search of the newborn. They found Mary and Joseph, postpartum in a barn, their son wrapped in rags and laying a trough. I wondered if Joseph and Mary thought of leaving Jesus in that barn. Who would know? It wasn’t Joseph’s son after all. All the world probably weighed on them, to question their dreams and visitations, everything they’d been told and believed. And then, as if the Lord where saying to Mary and Joseph “you aren’t crazy or foolish” a gang of smelly shepherds appeared outside the door. And they confirmed every damn thing Mary was told and knew to be true.

Sometimes I stumble into a dangerous line of thinking when I read stories like that of Mary and Joseph and the shepherds. It goes like this: Of course Mary and Joseph obeyed the Lord. They saw angels, saw miracles (in the form of Elizabeth’s pregnancy), and were visited by the mostly lowly of men (the shepherds) and the upper crust (the Magi.) The first Christian power couple didn’t have a choice given all the supernatural events that happened in their lives. It’s harder for me. I haven’t seen an angel or had random stranger turn up to confirm my calling.

These thoughts are, of course, a shitty load of hot garbage. I have seen and experienced miracles, had multiple supernatural dreams, had way more than a few. strangers confirm my identity and calling of my life. It’s bullshit to believe otherwise, regardless of what the world says. What I want to expose is the enemy and how he works. That asshole figured out how to lie so effectively, he’s able to get us to deny God supernatural hand in our lives. Which is why the power of our testimony is powerful beyond words. The more we repeat what we’ve seen and know, the more faith grows in us.

I will never be step-dad to the Messiah, but I am a son of the King. And He’s blessed my life through redemption and grace, miracles and signs, love and kindness. And I will never let go of these Truths.

Part 2 tomorrow.

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Vol III: #55 Growth

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Have you heard corn grow? I have. On a breezeless June afternoon in a cornfield in western Pennsylvania, I heard the corn grow. The noise was soft and sounded like something between a squeak and a squirt, the audible evidence of constant growth. I don’t know if you’d hear corn grow if it were only one plant or even twenty. But among the hundreds and thousands of stalks, the tiny bursts created a delightful effect. I laughed as I stood and listened with my eyes closed. Even a blind man would know the corn was healthy and living as it should. No eyes needed.

This is what’s good about a school or class, the ability to measure growth and see progress as part of a group. Because when we are alone, no one is around to hear see our growth or witness our pops of brilliance. The only measuring stick is what we see in the mirror. And the person we see today is similar to the person we saw yesterday, just slightly more so. There is ease at being in the middle of a pack, a tribe hunting and gathering in the modern time. But, on our own? Without gold stars, bonuses, or plaques? The way we live outside of schools and communities and the progress we make, this is who we really are.

As I see it, there are two big hurdles to clear as we navigate life outside the Greenhouse or away from the fields. One, to deny and condemn all the lies that tell us we are anything other than who we are- children of God. And two, that God isn’t God. The evil in the world wants you and me to believe we are anything other than the corn we were called and created to be. But never waver or forget. You were planted were you are and you are growing. Even if we can’t hear it, or see it…no one walks with the Lord and remains unchanged.

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