Vol III: #66 The Beauty of Rare

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Snow is falling on Redding today, a year or more since the last snow. It’s a news worthy event for me and most residents. The snow is beautiful and calming, and causes only minor inconveniences to normal life. I think it’s good for something in life to variable and unpredictable, and best at sparse intervals. On a day like to day, I pull open the blinds of the biggest window we have and sit with my face toward the action. It’s fun to watch the snow fall and paint the trees behind our home. And I will enjoy it while it lasts. It’s beautiful.

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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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Abstract: Psalm 37

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Psalm 37

In our time, in every age prior, and those to come,

has violent and ruthless men.

Every era and generation has war, starvation, and oppression,

and those who step on the righteous- the arrogant and foolish.

Never envy them.

Whatever glamour or wealth surrounds them now,

they will spend eternity burning.

The rapist and the liar,

the greedy sonofabitch,

and the merciless dictator.

No never you mind, He doesn’t overlook,

the proud academic,

the mocking cynic,

or manipulative dick.

No, He will come for what is owed.

Make no mistake.

The Lord loves sacrifice and a generous hand,

His heart beats for working mothers and devoted fathers,

For the child who walks home instead of destroying his future,

and the single man dedicated to prayer and faith.

Righteous is not grand or sparkling,

Justice doesn’t need a parade,

and Love is our true super power.

Never be jealous of the unrighteous.

Instead, pity them.

They are marching toward the gates of hell.

Stay to your course,

Pray, forgive, and let the light shine out your life.

The same God who spoke the Universe into reality,

created time and physics,

Is in you, with you, and for you.

You are never alone,

never forgotten,

always loved.

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Abstract: Psalm 36

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Psalm 36

When a man doesn’t know God, doesn’t fear the Lord, or follow the ways of Heaven,

no limits exists.

He may kill in the name of freedom, steal in the name of justice,

and sling his manhood like a wild animal- into any hole he desires.

Oh sure, this very same man may pay his taxes and help the neighbor with a cup of sugar,

but his heart is always twisted by pride and greed.

This man keeps tabs on all his critics and vows to destroy them.

He never forgets a slight or offense or rolled-eye.

And He will lie when it suits him,

destroy what threatens him,

and align himself with those who fill his needs.

He wants more, always more, the endless more.

Those who are abused or maimed,

They are part of the price he is willing to pay,

happy sacrifices of a kind,

for the sickening glory in his head.

But the Lord…

As terrible as a man may be, the ones without Love or Mercy,

they are not champions or saints.

They’re legacies will blow away like ash after an inferno,

and everything they’ve built will be blown-up, distributed, and then forgotten.

It is the Lord who is good and just and loving.

And his kindness extends to evil men,

right up to the moment they expire.

Though we fail, He prevails.

And nothing evil men do can or will destroy what He does or will do.

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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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Abstract: Psalm 35

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Psalm 35

When I was a child,

I never understood why we mocked each other,

stole and lied,

and delighted the failure of others.

Why are they so mean?

And then, Lord, I joined them.

I used my words and hands to hurt people too,

even though I knew I shouldn’t.

Yes, Lord, I knew.

And over time, I started to justify the pain I inflicted on other,

blamed my parents and leaders for my flaws,

and tried to escaped my reward.

I was your enemy Lord,

angry and afraid.

And then, you saved me from all that,

forgave for me all that,

and waved off those who came for the debt I owed.

So, unlike David, I will not pray for you to slaughter my enemies.

Nah.

I pray you save them, like you saved me.

May they see your glory, feel your warmth,

and know You alone are good.

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Abstract: Psalm 34

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Psalm 34

The world wants to turn the Lord into an ATM machine or ancient spell,

we mumble the proper words and blessing comes out.

But this is not how He works, never how he works.

His promises are true,

and so, He is worthy of praise.

He doesn’t need our approval or care for our anger,

and he’s unmoved by our impatience or doubt.

He promises to provide and defend,

deliver and protect.

The Miracles are a nice touch too.

Besides, we spend too much time asking for the wrong stuff.

We pray for money instead of wisdom to be wise with the cash we have,

We demand justice for our offenses, rather than grace to endure,

And we judge our holiness or worthiness on whether our latest hope was fulfilled,

Like the Lord is Amazon, waiting to ship you another cheap gift.

Do you even recognize the blessings all around you?

The excess of food, indoor toilets, and magic flying machines?

The beauty of the pines and sycamores or the songs in the morning?

Turn your head from criticism and entitlement,

and focus your eyes on the Lord.

Give up disappointment and busy yourself on His promises to you.

The Father is always behind you and with you,

To celebrate your wins and comfort you in grief.

And he redeems those who are dedicated and committed.

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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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Abstract: Psalm 33

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Psalm 33

The Lord has earned our hoots and hollers,

silent prayers and heart-felt tunes,

our collective worship and individual acclaim.

He’s worth every word and sway,

as long as you can give it, everyday.

Our lives and planet mirror His greatness,

in how we invent and create,

in colorful birds and wild flowers,

and in the flavor of salt, fresh tomato and bit of basil leaf.

More than these, His greatness is in us and that wonder marches on,

toward justice for all and mercy without end,

for ourselves, the least of these, and His enemies.

The Lords commands are everlasting, elegant, and nurishing.

He fulfills His promises and rewards those who sit in His presence,

regardless of what the day may bring.

Don’t let anyone say different,

The Lord alone is Good,

Every act,

Every word,

Every command,

and every promise.

He alone moves the Earth around the sun,

remember that.

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