Abstract: Newton’s Laws

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Isaac was brilliant and his logic is applicable to us.

In human terms, his first law of motion is:

A person in motion will continue in motion unless acted on by outside forces,

or inside forces.

It’s a truth each of knows without question.

Be it a hidden torment, or an attack from beyond our walls,

each of one must fight through the armies created to destroy us-

our potential, our love, and contributions to life.

Or die.

And, if we remain in or return to the state of our happy youth,

to that of children, we will believe in magic and miracles,

and feel the string attached from His hand to ours,

as He pulls us toward Himself-

past the hoards and legions,

and over the traps we set for ourselves.

Better said, and to correct the obvious but forgivable mistake of Mr. Newton: a person in motion will stay in motion, regardless of opposing forces, when their heart is tied to His.

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Abstract: Intention

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What is it to choose?

Our clothes for the day’s work,

Our food at breakfast- yes to eggs, but no a banana,

or the people we will text and to what end.

Regardless of our rationale or excuses,

our choices, our intention, reveals something about us.

It is not the whole picture, mainly because the multitude of humanity chooses what they must do,

rather than choose to be who they are and what they are.

I consider myself blessed,

By God and His hand,

though poor by most standards and unwed by every measure,

I decide who I am, without the normal excuses afforded to my piers in middle age.

I can feel their laden eyes burn through the back of my soul,

“Just you wait,” they scoff.

“Wait for marriage and kids and bills.”

I can only smile back.

They are correct, if I choose to live my life they way they do,

I will come to the same dead-end of living a life of “what I should do.”
I will look tired and cast my frustration on the “system” or some anonymous collective of bastards “out to get me.”

Or…I will decided to live and be a man of purpose and destiny,

an example to my children, of a man not pissed at what I must do,

but grateful and determined to follow the Lord’s lead,

with great joy and waves of laughter.

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Vol II: #66 No Islands in the Kingdom

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I understand why some former BSSM students fall apart when they leave the school. The temptation at Bethel is to meld into the culture and environment without learning to carry yourself. Between assigned Bible reading, classes, and near-daily worship the hardest part is maintaining a personal connection with the Lord. Thankfully, I knew these pitfalls prior to my trek through the the first year program. I developed a strong sense of my identity in the Lord since 2017 as I sought Him. Better said, I know how to stay connected to Him and prioritize my “quiet time(s).” My big hurdle is completely different than it will be for most students.

I know part of coming success and victory will be as an active part of body of believers. It scares the shit out of me. And yet…I know I need to be part of a church. Somehow, in some way, I need to go to church. (Good Lord. I can’t believe I wrote that. Me. The former church hater.) The truth is going to church is healthy like eating vegetables or hitting the gym. This is part of the Lord’s plan too. Or, as the preacher and poet John Donne famously penned in a 17th century,”No man is an island.”

Voluntary separation from the body of Christ is form of punishment, for whom is inconsequential. And, I loved to punish myself and others- when I feel ashamed or they say something stupid or follow a greedy man willing to spoon feed them what they want to hear. Ultimately, all of us suffer. I need the body and the body needs me. Who knows where the Church would be if people like me didn’t leave. We the thinkers and visionaries willing to look beyond the tropes of modern ministry into the Chaos of God and imagine what can be. Once we move from wounded to healed, we are the tribe that will take back the heritages we gave up long ago, in the area of the arts, science, invention, and education. And, the Lord wants us IN His body.

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Vol II: #65 My Favorite Moments (Final Bethel Thoughts 3/3)

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My favorite part of any endeavor is always going to be the new people I meet. BSSM was no different.

I knew Bethel had a strong international presence but I got to experience it in person. My class has people from Canada, Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, Panama, Colombia, Venezuela, Brazil, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, Argentina, England, Ireland, Wales, Scotland, France, Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Austria, Poland, Romania, Bulgaria. Russia, Ukraine, India, Nepal, Pakistan, China, Taiwan, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Zimbabwe, South Africa, Spain, New Zealand, Australia, Hong Kong, Sweden, Norway, Finland, and more I don’t know. My public university wasn’t this diverse.

What I find most admirable and encouraging is the faith these international students exhibit on a daily basis. None of them have permission to work because BSSM is not an accredited school according the US Government. Therefore, all of these people spend the entire year living on faith, often with limited funds and no transportation. Despite all the obstacles- costs, regulations, paperwork, etc- they persist.

Of course, I enjoy the opportunity to know these lovely people. I love their stories and what their BSSM experience is. Each of them have a unique take on Bethel and America i.e. Bethel is very encouraging to them but why is our healthcare so expensive? And, they have to overcome subtle hurdles I do not. For example, most of these students do not understand the cultural references made by our very American baby-boomer leaders. I had to explain what Star Trek and Dr. Spock when Kris Vallaton said “don’t be like Spock.” (Heck, most of the Gen Z Americans in their late teens didn’t get the reference either.)

In the same vein of meeting new people, my assigned mentor- Jonathon- was amazing. He was my shelter and guide through the year. Regardless of how angry or hurt I was, he constantly pointed me toward the Holy Spirit and never made me feel like an ass. Just as useful, Jonathan and I could talk about almost anything. I went into BSSM with low expectations for my mentor- due to what I heard from previous graduate- but JP was the opposite. The Lord is good and Jonathon was one of His gifts for me.

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I don’t know which of these relationships will turn into lifelong friendships. How could I? Every friendship must endure silences, distance, and misunderstandings. My hope is to be able to maintain 2-3 friendships from time at BSSM. Anything more will be a bonus. Regardless of the outcome, the people I met are amazing and I’m blessed to have met them, to walk with them, and know their stories. God is Good.

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Abstract: The Choice

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Some pretend the fight doesn’t exist,

Even more do not have the courage to peer over the wall or throw themselves into the fray. 

Still, the largest number has the faith to believe in the fight, the courage to stand on the rampart, but this is where the stay, riveted to the board.

They remain frozen by the reality of the battle. It is violent and the field is littered with blood and cries of the wounded. 

But the heroes, look beyond their fear and weakness, over the wall, to the sunlight on the other side of the war…to green hills and clear water. 

The true and infinite promises of God.

No fear or accusation, no loss or disappointment will keeps these from the Kingdom. 

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Vol II: #64 My Big Takeaways (Final Bethel Thoughts 2/3)

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Yesterday, I wrote about the expansion of my love for the Church. Today, I dive into what I appreciate about BSSM.

Some of the more dynamic and life-giving aspects of BSSM/Bethel are subtle. After weeks and months of being immersed in the culture it’s easy to forget how Bethel approaches people, which often the opposite of most churches. As a child, I grew up going to church in my best, most expensive clothes, as did most everyone else. We smiled and laughed, and for a child, all seemed right in the world. Church was safe and predictable. The people were nice, though Pastor Tommy liked to keep our seats warm with his passion for the Gospel.

The problem with this kind of church is that it wasn’t real. Sunday morning was a parade, a show of the best of ourselves, a ruse we could maintain but one day a week. As I began to pay attention, the fantasy I believed vanished. “Happily” married couples “suddenly” filed for divorces. So-and-so plainly stated their disagreements with the Sunday morning sermon. And, given the behavior of the church youth, I was forced to wonder what the teenagers really learned in Youth Group.

That was the 80s and 90s church for Nik. I learned about a great God, my terrible sinful nature, and my commission to get other people saved. That’s life and that’s all there is. If I had a problem it was because of sin or something I did. And, God was a dick, who is often mad at me. And mostly, the people in Church seemed to be miserable and constantly at odds with themselves and the people around them. I didn’t see joy or peace or love in anyone. Better said, I didn’t see the fruit of the Spirit. I experienced religion and people trying to do their best to please God without knowing Him or accepting His love for them. (It’s wild to recall these memories in 2022.)

So, how is Bethel different? Well, like I stated earlier, it’s subtle. People still try to be fashionable in their dress, though what is considered hip is radically different than the South in the 80s. And, Bethel students and congregants often smile and laugh as though they have not a care in the world. On the surface, Bethel appears to be exactly like the churches I knew. The massive difference is the Bethel leaders know people are people. We, the people, have issues and weaknesses. We struggle in relationships and faith. And, these “faults” and “low moments” are normal. This is why we need each other- to pick each up when needed.

I really love how the leadership team at Bethel embraced the vulnerability movement. Couples don’t suddenly get divorced and they accept the fact that teenagers have sex drives. It’s a dramatic shift in the way they approach the brokenness of the human condition. Problems happen and we cannot overcome them without bringing our shortcomings, weakness, and self-sabotage into the light.

What this culture looks like is pastors who do not look to expose your sin or pain. They wait for students and members to bring it forward. I love this approach because it is neither demanding or condemning. If I want to sit on the back row and pretend to be perfect, cool. And, when I’m ready to talk about my wounds surrounding women or anger toward leaders, they are available to help me through it. We, the people are a mess, and it’s ok to be messy.

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My second major takeaway from BSSM is their concept of honor and love, which I touched on yesterday. The people at Bethel genuinely try to call out the best in each person. They focus on what’s good in person instead of what needs work. It’s awesome. The reason many students excel when they are in school is because we have leaders and fellow students building us up everyday. (The inverse is also true. When students leave and the daily affirmations are gone, some of them fall off. They leaned into the environment without becoming stronger. The culture became a crutch rather than a spring board.)

Here’s the thing. All the affirmation and love and goofy shit they do is better than all the cynical crap I know and embraced. I’d rather be loving and kind and hope all things than return to my perch of fearful cynicism. I want to be foolish enough to stay faithful, even and especially after I fail.

Lastly, concerning love and honor, it’s ok to love and believe in someone AND maintain proper boundaries. I experienced several conflicts with fellow students and choose to love them from a distance. I believe in them and hope the best, and I keep my distance. Boundaries are good and healthy. And, people who violate boundaries are not healthy. (That’s ok. I know now, it’s not personal. When a friend or family member can’t maintain a boundary, it means they can’t keep promises. Ultimately, it means they don’t love or honor themselves very well. So now, whenever someone crosses a line with me, I’m not as offended. I find compassion for them in new ways. But, I’m still going to hold my line, because I love me. My peace is my responsibility.)

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My last major takeaway concerns the Lord and His goodness: I will live the rest of my life believing God is good and wants to be miraculous in our lives. The enemy tries to beat this out of us every single day. He wants us to disown the Lord, but he’ll settle for being disappointed and defeated. The last thing the devil wants is people who believe in a loving and kind Father, who live in connection, and dare to ask for the supernatural.

The words of Paul hit me different now than ever before “in excess or in lack, I have learned to give thanks in all seasons.” Through panic attacks, anger, depression, COVID, and more, I learned to keep worshipping and choosing Jesus. Even more, I learned to continue in being a hopeful idiot. I no longer pray for people to “feel better”, I want them healed and immersed in the presence of the Holy Spirit. I expect the Lord to move and show people how much He loves them. That’s His job. My job is to create space for the Lord to be Himself.

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Vol II: #63 Why I Went? (Final Bethel Thoughts 1/3)

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BSSM is coming to end in about ten days. Hallelujah. Though thrilled with the opportunity to be walk with this weird group of Jesus-lovers, I am equally ready to move onto the next season of my life. I found my peace among them- able to love and honor the Church without conflict. And, that’s what I came to Bethel to do. Jesus pinned His commandment to “love each other as I have loved you” to my heart, and I am now able to do it. Thank you Jesus.

One phrase I heard repeated this week is “Nik, you hide” or something to this effect. In each instance, I turned quickly to cover my smirk. In a previous life, I would’ve gotten defensive or questioned myself. But, here in the year of our Lord 2022, I am confident. I didn’t hide anything from anyone. The people who said I hid are wrong.

I’ll restate what I wrote above to press the importance of why I went to BSSM: To learn to love the Church. I did not go to learn to prophesy (which I learned from the teachers who taught Bethel.) I did not go to learn theology or doctrine. And, I certainly didn’t go for many of the reason others attend BSSM- to be closer to Bill Johnson, the greatness of Bethel Music, or because of their culture.

One last time, I attended BSSM to learn to love those I do not value or appreciate. It required me to lay down my wounds, believe the Lord, and let go of old hurts. What better place than a wild-ass church, where at least one person with a microphone is saying something stupid at any given moment. I liken it to learning a new language. They say it’s best to move to that country and immerse yourself in the culture. That was me for the last eight months.

(I have two more posts coming related to my final thoughts about my experience at BSSM.)

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Abstract: Withdrawal

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Do I hide from people, or am I discreet,

unwilling to plaster myself high on the wall,

and loudly proclaim my talents to the room?

Given the facts my laugh is loud and my body round,

I do not hide from anyone.

Do I withdraw? Yes.

What’s the difference? Well…

One is ashamed and the other is self-care.

Adam hid. Jesus withdrew…often.

And, in my aim to be like the Lord,

I too withdraw, to find the ground,

strengthen my spirit in His,

and return to the fight,

every bit myself,

in the all the glory He has for me.

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Vol II: #62 Church People Are My Kryptonite

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A near universal truth about God is you will often receive the very opposite of what you ask for in prayer. Want patience? Get ready to receive delayed events, long lines, and the wrong people asking for help. Want to learn to love? Prepare to be tested by people who’s disposition and actions turn love into a choice rather than a willing donation. Praying for riches? Then do well with the $5 in your pocket.

This season in my life- which is near an end- continues to give me opportunities to love people who do not understand me nor have they earned my respect. My defensive brain wants to protect my hurting heart. But, that’s the thing: love and honor are not about what someone deserves or earned.

Love is a command given by Jesus the Christ to all people. And, it’s easy to for me to love people who love me- my parents who support me, my awesome friends that check-in when I’m sick or hurting, and my kind neighbors. But, churchy leaders? They are my kryptonite, ever since I ten.

I know what my “deal” is. My deal is I believe a lie about what it means to disagree with leadership. So the problem isn’t them. It’s me. I’m the problem. I’m the one who believes a lie and then tries to defend it. So, rather than stew like an idiot, I choose the goodness of God…which is demonstrated by seeing the opportunities presented in this moment.

My first opportunity is to find peace in what the Lord revealed and encouraged in me, regardless of how confident or wrong a leader is. I get to grow my trust in Him and what He says to me. Secondly, I am given the great responsibility to intercede for those who need it. (And yes, I believe it is ok to say “they messed up.” Pretending leaders are infallible doesn’t help us or them.) My complaints are nothing but praises to the enemy.

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Vol II: #61 Continuing in Love

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Bethel and its ministry school is a crazy place. The leaders and people do all types of odd things like fire tunnels and ‘prophetic acts’ which often look like welding an imaginary sword. I’ve laughed at them more than I’ve laughed with them. And, I don’t feel bad about it. Act like a fool or jester and I’ll pay you in laughs. Isn’t that the arrangement? On a more serious point, several teacher and speakers have drawn theological or doctrinal points that left me openly asking the questions, “Huh? What?” and “How did you get there?” One criticism of Bethel is they play loose with scripture and on occasion the criticism is warranted. I knew all this going lunacy before I started and it is not why I went.

What I appreciate most about Bethel is the culture they try to maintain. We hear so often about honor and respect and encouragement yet rarely see it. Bill Johnson- for all his many faults- makes the effort. His team makes the effort and by extension the church makes the effort. They are imperfect and infuriating yet honest and kind. They don’t complain or judge people. And when they say “we try to call out the gold in others,” the pastors at BSSM take that task to heart.

As the last month of BSSM starts, it is this culture of honoring others (the Lord and myself) I want to carry with me. Yes, I want to see the Holy Spirit move through me and my community. But, that’s not up to me, at least in part. What’s in my ability is to choose to love people with my words and thoughts- to believe and hope for the best even if they are 80 and nasty as a snake. I’m guilty of being cynical and judgmental. But, there’s a better way. BSSM gave me a glimpse of what’s possible and I aim to take it with me. While we all laugh at the person with boundless optimism and hope, we also want to be them.

All of my reading and learning taught me the world is amazing place and it is filled with amazing people. Flip on the TV or scan some news and we are led to believe something else. The world is awful. Everything sucks. There is no hope. But on the whole we can only believe one of two possible truths: God is good or God is not good. If God is good, then we live in amazing world with some wicked stuff. If God is not good, then we live in a terrible world with a few bright spots.

I choose the former. God is most definitely good. He made us a wonderful planet to enjoy. The earth is covered with all kinds of creepy things, fuzzy animals, thick forests, towering mountain, gentile waves, and cool breezes. Thankfully…many of the planets and animals are “good for food” and it is a joy of life to eat them.

Most good Christians agree that God is good and this Earth is great, but they stop short before the last bit. Most of us do not believe “we are good” or “I am good.” We’ve had the dogma of “sinners saved by grace” drilled into our heads rather than the truth. We are a new creation. This reality means we no longer subject to the old, but we have access to every good thing through rebirth and the Holy Spirit.

Since, I am no longer a slave to fear and the sin it produces, then I am no longer slave to self-protection, insecurity, or impatience. Once these rivals are cut off, I’m no longer slave to the words of others, hopelessness, or addiction. Depression and self-pity have no place, and I find strength to be kind while maintaining healthy boundaries with the world around me.

It is these ideas and beliefs I carry with me from BSSM, way more than the miracles and Holy Ghost hokus pokus. It’s a form I love I knew was possible but couldn’t access. And now, I can.

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Vol II: #60 Short Stories

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Today, and almost completely by accident, I wrote a short story. My goal was to write fiction for ten minutes, what I thought would be the beginning of a short story. Ten minutes quickly turned into and hour and twenty minutes. The beginning was slow and clunky but the words poured from my fingers by the end. The experience was exhilarating.

I’m certain a seasoned writer or college professor would rip Mr. Brown’s Apples to shreds. I don’t care. This story isn’t about being good, but about the doing. Soon, I’ll join a writers group, where I’ll share my writing. In that forum, I expect to be sharpened and pushed. Today was about starting the next phase of my writing history: fiction.

So, from here on out and in addition to poems and blog posts, I will publish short stories.

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Short #1: Mr. Brown’s Apples

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The barefoot boy took the dusty road to the orchard, past the barn and beyond the pond where the cows drink in the summer. He wanted to throw rocks at the apples. If he hit one and it fell, he knew the apples would be ripe for eating. 

It was quiet as the sun slid low on the horizon behind him. The road rose and fell on the hills then bent beside a creek as if to run alongside the trickling water. The boy stopped to throw a few small stones into the creek, a most universal habit of all men. Then he placed a few more stones in his pocket and continued up the road beside the creek until he came to the orchard of his desire. 

Mr. Brown, the farmer who owned the orchard, would be sitting down to dinner. Shiloh figured this, which is why he waited until evening to make his sortie. And now, he stood twenty feet away. The Gala trees were full of green and red apples and the shades in-between. The boy scanned the outer branches for patches of crimson. 

After he selected his target, Shiloh took one stone from his front pocket. It was oblong and smooth and good for skipping on water. Normally he wouldn’t use a stone like this to hit apples, but today he decided to experiment. He cocked his right arm and slung the missile toward the bull’s eye. It missed. The stone went high and to the right. By a lot. 

Shiloh looked around. Even though he knew he was alone he hoped no one saw his blunder. “Skipping stones and throwing stones are not the same,” he thought as he reached into his pocket for another. On his second attempt, the boy was more resolute. He faced the tree like a pitcher and dug his foot into an imaginary mound. He wound up and hurled the stone at the fruit. A loud “thock” resonated back and the boy pumped his fist in celebration. 

“Better not be throwing rocks at my apples boy!” yelled an unmistakable voice. Shiloh froze. He couldn’t see Mr. Brown, but he assumed the farmer could see him. 

“No sir. Just tryin’ to scare off some birds Mr. Brown. Honest.” 

“I don’t see or hear a damn thing except you throwing rocks.” 

“Yes, sir. I understand, but you didn’t see what I see.” Finally, Shiloh could see Mr. Brown coming up the lane between the rows. His heart sank and nerves began to flutter. Mr. Brown was old but thick through his shoulders and gut, an imposing figure. The boy’s mother told him not to mess with Mr. Brown's apples, but the boy couldn’t resist the temptation. Few acts gave him more satisfaction than knocking a ripe apple out of a tree. 

Shiloh cowered as Mr. Brown approached and he thought of the last few stones in his front pocket. 

“Tell me something boy. Why do you throw rocks at my apples?”

“I don’t know,” answered the boy. 

“Sure you do. Stop being nervous and be a man. Why do you throw rocks at my apples?”

“I don’t know sir.”

“You stupid Shiloh?”

“Sir?”

“Are you stupid?”

“I don’t know sir.”

“Ok. Let me ask you another question. Why do you like skipping rocks across the creek?”

“I don’t know about that either sir.” 

“Quit calling me sir. Call me Mr. Brown. I don’t own you and you ain’t my worker.” 

Mr. Brown crouched down in the dirt a few feet away from Shiloh. He could tell the boy was nervous and ready for a beating. He could tell the boy wasn’t able to think, wasn’t able to give smart answers. This is what happens to men when fear overcomes them. 

Mr. Brown took in a deep breath and looked back at his orchard. Then he opened his hand to reveal two small ripe apples. He took the larger and gave it to Shiloh. The boy was stunned and paused before taking the gift. 

“I make my money selling these apples Shiloh. You know that don’t you?” 

“Yes, sir, I mean Mr. Brown.” 

“So, if you come down here and throw rocks at my apples, I’ll have less apples to keep my lights on. And if you and all the other boys throw rocks at my apples, I might lose my house. Understand what I’m saying?”

Ashamed, Shiloh hung his head.

Mr. Brown continued, “But, I was a boy too. Just like you. I liked skipping rocks across the creek.” 

Puzzled, Shiloh looked over at the old farmer as he continued. 

“What do you say I let you throw rocks at my apples when the season is over. My trees always have a few apples that never seem to want to be picked, and they start to rot right on the branch.” 

“Really?”

“Really.” Said the old man. “Matter of fact. You can throw all the rocks you want at those stubborn apples. And sometimes, they explode when they hit the ground.” 

Shiloh’s grin replaced his nervousness. “When is the season over Mr. Brown?”

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