Why should I waste my time "serving" the "church"?

I've spent countless hours serving my church. I've done things I've hated. I've done things I've loved. I've worked with people who've gotten on my nerves. I've gotten on the nerves of everyone I've worked with. I've completed task I found completely pointless, some of which were incredibly taxing. I've missed birthday parties, graduations, weddings, and funerals because I put a service before them. I've lost friends and gained friends. More than once I've asked the question: "What am I doing here? Why am I wasting my time?" Usually the question rises out of frustration or out of self-righteous indignation. Each time, I remind myself of the three core reasons I do what I do.

Reason one why I waste of time serving: I'm so freaking good at it. I volunteer in our tech department, something I'm really really good at. Not because I know something that other people don't. Because I know how to figure things out. I like to troubleshoot. I love it when a computer fails or a feed glitches out. Computer crashes? Lights failing? Awesome. Thats what I'm good at. I've always excelled at finding patterns, breaking down equations and solving problems. I eat sleep and breath it. Whenever we get new volunteers at church I always try and find out what their good at. When you find out what you're good at you begin to find a passion for it... which leads me to my second reason for wasting my time.

Reason dos why I waste my time serving: I freaking love it. I adore it. Nothing lights a fire in my bones like seeing a service go off without a hitch. There is nothing like seeing a video project you've spent months working on turn out amazing and hear about how it effected lives. If we're not effecting lives, everything we do inside the four walls is utterly pointless. So I'm fiercely passionate about our media. It turns some people off. I offend people way too often. But I'm a little ok with that. My passion with either inspire others around me or weed out the people who aren't really passionate. I woke with some of the most passionate people I've ever met and when we get in a room together to hash out a project, you better believe sparks fly. I couldn't tell you how many times I've argued about something just because I didn't like the color of it, or the way it sounded coming off my tongue or even the way it felt in my hands. It's gotta be perfect. It has to be excellent and only the very best. What we do, we do in the name of Christ an it should represent him in every way. It should be done with care and with purpose. With passion! And that brings me to my third point.

The primary reason why I willing waste my time, energy and life "serving" the "church" is God. I do it because it's what He would do. He has imbued in each of us characteristics and passions that reflect His glory and goodness. I don't do it because Ill feel better at night "doing my good deed" for the Lord. I do it because He made me to do it. Because I take joy in it. I do it because that's the character He wants to develop in me. Someone who isn't afraid to just serve. To just work. He gave me the passion and the ability. What else do I eat sleep and breath for if not to fulfill His purpose for my life? There isn't anything on God's green earth I would sacrifice to see someone else get a hold of that. This world might be full of entertainment and "happiness" you might find some fun in your money or your job or your spouse but you won't find any joy. That is an antidote for this world that flows straight from the veins of Christ. When you connect into His arm like an IV you get filled up with most complete joy you could ever ask for.

There are a lot of people who either don't understand or don't want to understand why I waste my time "serving" the "church". I doubt reading this will change their minds much. You don't understand God by reading about Him or preaching about Him. You learn about Him down in the trenches, where He is. Fighting to reach every single person on earth. You experience Him holding the hands of His broken people and loving them back to life. Sometimes that means Getting up on a stage and teaching His message. Sometimes it means scrubbing the toilets till they shine just right. Most of the time it takes a lot of energy. No matter what you do, it requires servitude.

Find Shelter

You'll have to forgive me, this post may seem a bit repetitive in the sense that I'm piggy packing off of another one of my Pastor's sermons. Frankly talking about my Pastor's sermons is one of my favorite pass times. It really helps me to evaluate and grab a hold of what God is trying to teach me through my Pastor.

My whole life I've had to deal with Death. It has been very evident sense I was very little. In fact, at the age of 5 I came to the terms that eventually I would die, and believing that nothing happens after died (because all the Christians I had known up this this point felt really phony to me... a 5 year old) I figured I would just cease to exist. My ultimate resolution to this was that if I died I wouldn't even be around to miss not living so it couldn't be all that bad. But it was terrifying.

Under that world view I lived my entire childhood. Frankly nothing in this world really warranted my attention. It didn't really deserve my time. After all, eventually I would die so whats the point? You might say I was a "tad" cynical. I began to look for somewhere to hide from what I believe to be a harsh reality. Don't get me wrong here... I was suicidal or even depressed really by this reality. Not at first. I just didn't want to think about it. I wanted to avoid the whole idea of death; of life. So I hid. First I hid in toys, games, make believe. I never wanted to do anything real. I wanted to live in fantasy. Eventually that really didn't work out so I moved on to books. I used to read eight hundred page books a week. Sometimes people wonder how I know random stupid facts, probably because I picked it up in a book somewhere and stashed it away for a rainy day.

Eventually my escapism lead me to video games I talked about that a week or so ago in my blog Why I Have Given Up Video Games... 

Sometimes I hid in lust. Sometimes I hid in anger. Sometimes I hid in desperation. I was always looking for somewhere to shelter myself from that world I really didn't enjoy. It was my way of coping with what I didn't want to accept.

Tonight, my Pastor talked about finding shelter in God. It's a pretty simple concept. One that most of us Christians have heard before and have even practiced. However, it brought me to a sudden reality: Even with my avoiding of video games I've found myself desperately trying to hide myself in them again and again. If not them, television. Something to get my mind off of the things I really don't want to think about.

It's not that I don't seek God. I do my devotions almost every day.  I pray every day. I worship God every day. However, usually after running to Him with my problems. I usually end up feeling hopeless anyway... I talked about that in my previous blog: Fear: An evaluated look, inspired by my Pastor

I don't really trust where my help comes from (Psalm 121:1). I don't, when I'm feeling defeated or beaten up find refuge in Christ (Psalm 57:1). I bring my problems and my woes but I don't hide in Him. I don't look for shelter. I for some reason think its still my job to take the brunt of it. Like Jesus didn't die on the cross. LIKE JESUS DIDN'T DIE ON THE CROSS. Like the whole point of it all is that I don't have to bare that. At least not alone. As if God didn't provide a place for me. Like he isn't waiting in our secret place to look after me. To converse. To absolve. To forgive.

Sometimes I wonder at how stupid I can be. So easily confused or deceived. We humans are SO FUNNY. We can repeat something, completely understand it. Put it to practice and then forget the entire purpose of it. We take what God intended for relationship and we turn it right into a mechanical religion. It becomes ceremony.

"Of course I brought it to God!" And then I picked it up and walked out with it. LOL!

Tonight I really think I got the meaning that David was getting at in Psalm 121. Taking refuge in God. Crawling underneath the Word of God and letting God defend me. Veiling myself in His goodness. Like, "I don't care about what's going on. God's handling the situation bro. I'm just going to sit here and hide. In the corner, clad in Kevlar behind the blast shield. I think he can handle it."

The importance of a planted tree...

While I was in Israel I had the privilege of speaking to and amazing Jewish man named Ariel. He was a brilliant gentleman who took me around and showed me some of the historical landmarks in Tel Aviv. After we took our little tour I remember standing next to him by the old train station watching some of our  party talking under a great big tree. He leaned over to me and said the most profound thing. He told me that the tree they were underneath had massive roots to hold up its weight. Twice as deep as the tree was tall. Something broke loose in my spirit as I came to a realization: my whole life I've been measure by what is seen above ground. Its easy to look at my life and sum it up by the little that is seen. In fact there are many individuals who I know, who I work with that could easily be measured in such a way... even Ariel, who did not seem like much on the surface but just a few moments with him made me see exactly how deep those roots go. Men like him, like my pastors who's roots run deep... they support a lot of weight. They carry our generation on their backs.

It makes me sad to think of these because I also see people who seem larger than life... who think they have everything so figured out and then one day the wind blows just a little too hard and the roots snap and the world sees just how shallow those roots were. I wish my generation could get to the understand that there is nothing wrong with growing deep. That there is more to life than just growing up. There is more to life than your job and your spouse and your own little world. That when a small tree is cut down, if the roots hold steady... it will grow again.

"The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,
they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;
13 planted in the house of the Lord,
they will flourish in the courts of our God.
14 They will still bear fruit in old age,
they will stay fresh and green,
15 proclaiming, “The Lord is upright;
he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him."

[Psalm 92:12-15]


I want that out youth would take this scripture and run with it. To plant themselves in the Lord's house. To grow and focus on an inward man and stop worrying about the outward. Hes dead anyway.

Today I Had The Most Beautiful Farewell...

Today I had the privilege of seeing my Grandmother buried.

My Grandmother was a key character in my life. She instilled in me an honesty and an integrity which I can owe no other. I would not be the man I am today without her love and care. I think back now on a time when my sister and I were fighting, I was a very insecure young 14 year old boy. My sisters used to call me a fag and a fairy and pretty much any un-masculine thing they could think of. They would attack my identity at its core and they never held back blows. My father taught me to treat women with respect. I was never allowed to raise my hand, never allowed to use my aggression against a girl. However words were something he often abused. So finally after an onslaught of verbal abuse I finally screamed back at her some of the most hurtful things one could ever say about a girl. I remember her turning and literally running off crying. I had finally beaten her at her own game. Then my Grandmother, who rarely left her room came out. She had hear the whole conversation. I can still see her vividly in her psychedelic robe...
"Are you happy with yourself?" She asked. I didn't reply... I wasn't.
"She said worse things to me!" I finally replied.
"It doesn't matter." She relied before I could finish my sentence. She proceeded to read me the riot act. I was furious. It was unfair. Why was I in trouble when she had said the terrible things she had said... it was more than a year before I finally understood what she was trying to teach me. Two wrongs don't make a right. I always believed that... but I had never put that into context. Life altering. Suddenly I began to realize that no matter how someone made me feel... I was still responsible for my actions.

I could write books about the times in my life where this mean old woman would unfairly punish me when I wasn't the one in the wrong. Oh how I hated that. How I was offended by it. My brother would tell a boldface lied and I would tell a little fib and I'd be attacked in an instance. "Sneaky!" she called me. The audacity! When I got older however... I could do nothing but thank her. She carved character into me without me ever knowing it. What an amazing woman.

When Christ entered my life, my thoughts quickly turned to her and my father. Both whom's health was fading and who didn't know Jesus. I spent the first year of my saved life praying and lamenting over them. I remember once driving home with her... after spending the weekend with my father. She told me about a study she was going to at my Aunt Lorraine's church. She talked to me about God and asked me questions about my beliefs... she was so happy.. almost to tears when she heard my answer. GOD WAS GOOD! She had never known a good God. Only a condemning religious God... she was so excited... I didn't see her for another two years...

This Thanksgiving, her health finally began to fail. The family went to visit her. I wanted desperately to finish the conversation we had those two years ago but she wasn't in her right mind... and I got the impression my family was ready to blow up on me at the mention of Christ. I prayed all night the first night for strength to defy my family and blow them off and just ask her if she wanted to hear it. But when the opportunity arrived... it didn't seem right. She just smiled at me. I never asked... so I figured I would come up and visit another time without the family around so that we could talk, just the two of us.

After Thanksgiving we all headed home. The following Tuesday, she died.

I was mortified. The idea... of never seeing her again was crushing. It didn't hurt... I had already lamented her death long before she died because she didn't have Christ... but the reality of no Hope... was solemn.

Then when I arrived at her funeral... after the family had gathered... two women went up and shared an experience they had with her. They talked about the study she went to. About how she was "spunky" defiant. Oh boy did they know her. How intelligent she was. How strong she was. Suddenly it came to me where these women were going. Two years go, my grandmother dedicated her life to Jesus Christ. She accepted the King of Kings into her heart. Fully convinced, with a faith that would stagger my own, she faced cancer like the Lion I know she is. Peace was the result. Peace. That smile. All that time, she never told me. How could she. Our family was resentful of the entire idea of Christ. When could she have? Such few opportunities.

Now I know, that one day I will see that strong women again. A testament to my heritage  Someone who I am so proud to know I share the same blood with. I came to that funeral broken hearted and left full of excitement. Thank you Father, you are without a doubt, strong enough to save.

Mission

Spent the last two weeks of my life with some of the most amazing people I have ever met, in the most poverty stricken places I have ever been. Two things stand apparent in my mind.

One, as an American I am highly blessed. Two, no matter where you come from and no matter how much you have... no matter what people enter or leave your life... at some point we all find ourselves broken... and we need the One who made us to save us. People need to hear that there is something worth living for and that someone out there has sent His people to find you and lead you to him.

He will never leave you without a light.

Who Can Take The Sting...

Who Can Take The Sting From Death?

Who Can Take The Sting From Loneliness?

Who Can Take The Sting From Hurt?

Who Can Take The Sting From Our Mistakes?!

This world has proven to be a place of great darkness and great light. It is although we walk along the blade’s edge… we tread the blade afraid of its sharp bite. WE slip and fall, leaving scars we’ll never forget. Sometimes we wonder why we even try… no matter how long we walk this path and no matter how careful we are… we still feel the sting of the blade. We are trapped by our mistakes… wounded by our transgressions… bled for our sins.

The hardest part is doing it alone. Though at times we are accompanied by another soul to help us along… we find the slightest slip scares them away… and so we walk the line in hopes of finding someone to walk it with us. Sometimes we are cut by those who take up our line… sometimes they leave us bleeding… sometimes they fall short…

And… when we are in the dark… and the whole world seems so far away… when death seems to creep upon our skin… when we are alone with our thoughts and our regrets we find that we never had a chance… we never would walk the whole way and we always knew it… and yet in hopes we continued on… but now there is no hope… no light… nothing to hold on to nothing to weather the night.

It is in that dark that a light begins to shine, a strength begins to manifest.

The blade is shattered…

A champion is here.

In our darkest hour, we find ourselves on our knees… in the shadow of a blood stained cross. Suddenly we find that our scars are gone and the blade no longer holds sway of our lives. You see… there on the cross rests a man whom bares our scars… and on his hands are the marks of his covenant with us… a blood bond… written in His eyes is a truth we never knew was possible… “I Have Been There. The Whole Way. I Know How Deep Your Scars Go. I Have Taken Them. I Know How Long Your Wounds Carry, I Have Bore Them. I Know How Far The Blade Stretches. I Have Ran It. For You, I Have Broken It. For You I Have Conquered It. Today, MY Love… I Have Dove Into Your Darkest Hour And Pulled You From It. Today, You Are Free To Love.

Slow To Anger...

The NIV says: “My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,” [James 1:19] This of course being a mention of Godliness mentioned in [Psalm 145:8] “The LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.”

I find that I am not often, but on occasion known for being rather quick to anger. I have a quick fuse and while difficult to light, the fuse is very short…

The very idea that I feel entitled to become angry at any individual is absurd. I have sinned no less than them and I have been no less selfish than others… and yet I feel anger towards others when they display selfish desires… what a strange creature the human is.

Interesting that the Psalmist there uses love as a contrast to anger. You see, it is difficult to be angry at someone you feel love towards. I find that when my heart is full of love and my mind is meditating on love, I am truly slow to anger. My patients is increased exponentially…

If we can learn to slow our speech, to slow our anger, and rather walk in love towards each other on a regular basis we find that difficulties become so much smaller. You see, I have found that long hours of patients and grace can be easily destroyed by short minutes of anger and frustration. Let us then strive my friends to first attune our hearts and our minds to our God, before ever speaking or interacting with His children.

"Have You Passed Through This Night?"

I came across this video from Explosions in the Sky. The dialogue is taken from the movie Thin Red Line. It truly speaks to the human heart and the horrors of war.

"This great evil. Where does it come from? How'd it steal into the world? What seed, what root did it grow from? Who's doin' this? Who's killin' us? Robbing us of life and light. Mockin' us with the sight of what we might've known. Does our ruin benefit the earth? Does it help the grass to grow, the sun to shine? Is this darkness in you, too? Have you passed through this night?"

The True Fight For Glory

The most important and always the most difficult fights are those that are misunderstood. When the line seems to quiver... to wave... the one that forces you to be misunderstood... hated... rejected... the ones that require your life... without reward... without appreciation... without praise... it makes me wonder... did Mary count the costs of her life? Did she understand the repercussions of her choice? Or did she not even need to think about it?

How man of us are willing to bite the bullet? To forsake the Love of others in favor of your love for them? How many of us truly can take up that cross? How many of us truly understand that Jesus was not talking about a physical Martyr? That to truly take up that cross is so much more... to be misunderstood... to be forsaken... lost... forgotten...

How many of our brothers and sisters stand alone... in obedience...? Oh how harsh has our religion cut them? How deep have we betrayed their faith and love...? How diligent are their hearts? How patient are their spirits? How meek is their strength...?

Father, forgive my selfish heart and unloving tone with which I have painted a bleak life. Let the colors of your love and mercy flow freely and openly upon the canvas of my soul... let your joy and peace overtake and overwhelm me. That in time my heart might be made new.... in the image of the cross... that among the misunderstandings and rejections... that a man will arise from the ashes of a dead and broken world and that he will bear your signature... don your armor... wield your sword... and speak with your truth... that on his back he may carry your salvation to all those who are willing to receive it... unyielding... unshaken... unrelenting... uncompromising... utterly and completely sold out and purchased by your blood.

Father... I pray that you teach me to build a fortress of your heart around my own. Teach me to withstand the cold... to endure the beating winds... to resist the burning fires... to put to death that pain and sorrow in which tries to entangle and control me... to have dominance over my heart and choose to use it for the betterment of my people... my world and my God.

Body, Mind, & Soul

What is it in a man that makes him kill? Where does our rage come from? Our Pride... our Sin... where my friend, does Lust derive it's origins? What is it, in those last seconds before the final blow is dealt... before the final shot is fired... what is it that defines a man?

You see... amiss the smoke and cries... in the heat of the fight... we find out who we truly are... we find that Loyalty... honor... integrity... they are the only true weapons... that our skills are drastically overshadowed by our vision for their purpose. That when the dust settles... when the last shot is fired... and you finally win... you find that you are the real enemy. That among the blood and the death... you were its harbinger.

Let us strive my friends to fight the good fight... to conquer the body mind and soul.... let us teach them to obey. Let us discover something about ourselves... something we never knew... that fighting is more than winning... its about discovering everything about yourself...

Its about discovering... the greatest warrior who ever lived... in the end... when He could have beaten us all... he laid it all down... and paid our depts... won our victory... and exposed to us all who He really was... an in so doing... who we really are.

The Call

Don't you understand? I hear you, through all the lies. I see you through all the walls. I can feel you through all the armor. To me, you are naked. You can try, but you can't keep out the sunlight.

Bar the windows with your shame. Barricade the doors with your failure. Hide behind the mountain of your defeat. You can not keep me away. No strong arm can hold me down. No great depth can separate me.

Stand. Fight. I have called upon my Army. To arms, raise my standard once again. Here, take my armor. Take my sword. Fight. Don't waver. Don't yield. No quarter. Never give up. With every last breath. Fight. No matter the cost. Fight.

Do you not hear the battle drums? Can you not feel their quake? It is war. Wipe away your tears. Purify yourself. He comes for you. My most beautiful prize. He comes to take you. To corrupt you. He has come for my bride. Fight.

Do you not feel it?! The knife. It slashes. It stabs. It cuts deep. Fight! These wounds. You must fight. I see the blood. I feel the breaks. Fight.

Feel my scream. Taste my anger. Let lose my fury, from the depth of your being. Fight. You are not alone. Can't you feel it?! Filling every crack. Touching every wound. I am with you. I will never leave. I would never leave. Faithful to the end.

You are my soldier. You are my knight. My champion. My image. I have made you, shaped you and armed you to carry my name. In your heart I have hidden my Words. In your soul I have left my mark. I carry your name upon my hand. I bare its bond on my back and in my blood. I purchased you from death itself. And on your shoulders I rest my righteousness. In your hands I leave my promise.
In this world I let lose my son. I let lose a man. Wondrous is he that bares my image. Fearfully he walks this earth. Wonderful is his obedience. Beautiful is his love.


Fight, my love. Fight for me.

I am your father, I am your God.

I live in you.

I Must...

The night I was introduced to Christ, was not the day that I felt His healing power. I did not know my sickness, I did not understand it. Each day I would wake up and an ache from deep inside my heart would remind me of my condition. Like a slow poison pulsing through my veins. How empty my soul felt. How lost my spirit had become.

No, it wasn't until later one night that His healing touch came to me, the night I fell to my knees and told Him that my life was His, that I no longer wished to live it. I asked Him to take it away. To remove the pain that clung to me daily, like a sore. I could feel it like a pit, sucking me inside it and swallowing me up. And emptiness that I could not fulfill, a pain that had been dug out by years of laying in the dark.

That night, something dropped. Something fell inside me. It filled me up and sealed me off. Closing the pit that had tormented me for years. It brought to me a wholeness, a sober feeling only explainable to those who once had blurry vision. The power that was released in my heart cured my illness and brought me back from the brink, to life. How amazing! How insane, the Love that was exposed to me. That night, the hands of Christ grabbed a hold of my heart and filled my scars and took my pain away. And since that night, He has never let go.

But it was not until recently that I could truly explain how simple the feeling was, what truly Christ had done for me. You see, now I no longer lay awake at night. I no longer feel the torment I once did. Now I sleep soundly knowing that I AM ABOUT MY FATHER'S BUSINESS.

Cruel Little Boy

How cruel, how harsh a man can be. What wicked and tormented part of us wishes such harm on our fellow man? What hate have we hidden in our hearts that causes such strife and wrath? What Lord, is so hidden inside me? What, makes me forget time and time again of your great love?

I cry Lord, I plea! Take it away, forgive my soul. I have sinned Lord! I have fallen! What selfishness has overcome me?! How absurd! To even ask forgiveness... Like a cruel child I have attacked your children, and yet return to you for comfort. What boldness to approach you! What arrogance to beg from you!

Why Lord, do I have these scars? Why do I bleed so bad? Who Lord knows how deep these scars go? Who Lord has seen the blood and the pain? Who can understand the tears? What man can see the suffering? The years oh God spent locked away. Whipped and tortured. Burned and cut. Steel Bars of my own foolishness held me. Isolation befriended me. Sorry overwhelmed me. The years Lord, how long they were. The scars Lord, how deep they dug.

There he stood, his words they cut. His hands they smothered. In him was accusations. Around him was death. He drew before me my very actions. He threw upon me my own inequities! He stood there and accused me. His words were true, his charges just. Every crime I committed, every Sin I drank. He brought before me past and present. "To YOU!" he cried, "they belong!" He stamped on me my title, earned in full. He broke my bones. He cut my throat. He shut me in. He locked me away. There he burned me. There he stole from me all that I held dear.

I was alone Lord, bleeding to death I cried out. Surrounded, I surrendered. Desperately the words came out, painfully they were uttered. Save Me Lord. Save me from my selfishness! Save me from my cruelty! Save me from my hate! From my lust! From my envy! Pull from me these nails. I lay there helpless, my crimes before me.

And in the darkness I felt Your great hand. You reached inside me. You touched my heart. It was then you spoke, it was there that you proclaimed to me. "I, have felt these scars. I have seen this blood. I know how deep they go, I've felt their burn. In these hands I took your nails. In these hands I bore your Sin! I have stolen your title. I have set you free!" Your hands they held me. You pulled me free, they took the flames. Your hands they dug, they burrowed in. You felt my very beating heart, and there I lay covered in your great blood. Your heart in mine. Your fire is mine. You traded me my helpless body. You traded me my failing heart.

"Here I have planted, no deeper can one go. No further can one dig. Here I plant my flowing river. Here I rest my healing hands. In your heart I whisper my Word." You stitched me up, you covered me. You set upon me your shining crown. You stamped upon me your golden seal. How precious your blood. In me grew a heart of strength. In me grew a soul of love. "I have cast away your stoney heart. I have purged away your blood stained soul.

Yet Lord, here I stand my hands in blood. My heart so hard. And yet again I see those nails. Yet again I see Your blood. And there you stand, your hands in my heart. You lips across my forehead. You take the flames, you take the nails. You heal my heart. You feel the scars, how deep they go. "I know." You assure me "I will always love you."

Hallelujah!

A Word To The Heart: Anchored

I have set you like an Anchor in the sea and to you I have tethered a multitude. I have ground you and set you into the deep earth, unmovable unshakable. I have made you a rock, a strong tower. Like a skilled craftsman I have chiseled and cut you into a strong beam to hold My House. Around you I have placed my children. They are chained to your sturdy guidance. You hold them strong like a strong rope in a storm.

Do not forsake them! They have but one cord, fragile like a string. Hold them gently and reel them in with My Love and My Words. Let them glide across the waves to and fro back and forth but hold them steadily upon my path. Guide them, nudge them. For you I have made solid so that they will not become lost.

How many have slipped away? How many have you failed to grasp? How many have you tugged and severed? Sober up and clear your vision. Look about you to the mesh of lives that spin twirling around you without guidance, without hope. Open your heart to the majesty of my design.

A Father's Love

Each of us has a different view of a Father, at least initially. It is given to us by our earthly fathers. Some are good and some are bad. Each determines our initial feeling for God, our fathers are an image of who God becomes in our minds. My Father, was not the best man. He was a terrible husband. He made many mistakes in His life and fell many times. However despite my fathers shortcomings he taught me one thing that not matter what I do in this life will never leave me. My father through all his imperfections, taught me the perfect love of a father.

There was never a time in my life I EVER questioned the love my father had for me. I knew that he would tear heaven and hell apart to protect and watch over me. I knew that he was jealous for me. I knew that he wanted the best for me. I knew that he always encouraged me. I knew that no matter what happened he was behind me and he was for me. I KNEW that no matter what happened at the end of the day when I was broken and beaten and when all hope had been ripped away form me that he, through all the tears, through his own pain and suffering, would ALWAYS be there to hold me and watch over me. Above all he taught me that though he loved me dearly, his heart constantly cried for me to love him back. That his only frustrations at me and his greatest pains rooted in my unloving actions toward him.

How blessed I am to have been in that home for so many years. All of the pain all of the hurt was worth that simple love. How valuable, how comforting it has always been, it has created in me such a reserve and faithfulness that I could never claim to be my own. How infinite our God's wisdom is to take such a man who the world deemed unworthy and through him teach such a powerful message. That no matter what our mistakes, He loves us. No matter what happens, HE LOVES US! That no matter what happens HE IS FOR US! How amazing is our God!

Today I can still say, though I have taken a different path than him and though he may not approve, I know he loves me. Moreover, I love him. In that realization I find my love for my heavenly father. I find peace in that, that if we can have such a love for each other being born of this world, how great is that love He brings to this earth.

These days I am separated from my father by a veil, I have gone past it and moved toward my heavenly father, however he is still blinded by it, trapped on the other side. I scream and I cry out to him, follow me but he can't hear me, he can't see me. He is so far from me it is unreal. In this I realize my Father's pain, that for so long I was on the other side of that veil. For so long He cried out to me and I could not hear Him. For so long He longed to bring me into His embrace but I could not feel Him. Oh God how strong and mighty you are to have such love. I pray Lord, break his bonds and show him your love. Use me Father to show him a son's love. My heart is broken for him Lord. Let him see the power of the cross and the love we both hold for him. Thank you Jesus for your sacrifice and grace towards us. Amen.

Seasons

As the day comes to a close I reflect on the information presented today by our God. It is interesting to note how He will gently push us here and there and then when we feel lost he will reveal to us where we really are. This is interesting because the whole time if we would just open our eyes and seek we would quickly discover where He wishes to lead us... however I'm straying from the topic.

Between God's Word for me along with some conversations with some very influential people in my life along with an intimate prayer session with Jesus, I have come to a conclusion. Though I do not want it, I have been moved into a season of my life which requires me to do the exact opposite of my current wishes. My desires while not wrong are clearly not what God wants for me right now or will manifest in another way. Until then I will pursue His Kingdom and Seek His Righteousness. The conclusion while not what I initially expected, still brings me peace. The Word Pastor Glen Johnson brought tonight was dead on. Often we run around trying to justify or figure out what we think God's will in a given situation is, when all along we really knew what it was and were simply trying to find out own way.

That is a warning shot. We must be careful not to overlook or dismiss the voice of God and His will for us. If we do we open ourselves up for self deceit as well as the Enemy's deceit. So let us find peace in His words and trust in His good judgement no matter how much we want to resist, because in Him there is perfect peace that "...surpasses all understanding".

In this new season I find hope for future seasons, though some seasons may require that we take up our cross and step forward on faith, sacrificing our wishes and our plans. We have Hope that in the future He will bring us to a season of rest and strengthening. So while I may be gearing up for a difficult season I know that there is rest on the other side and I know that He has prepared me diligently for the quest ahead and if He is with me, none can stand against me. Amen.

Each Work Of Art Is a Portrait Of God

Today, some of the greatest young people of God I have ever met and certainly some of my best friends and closest brothers are off to preach to the nations! God has called them to the Philippines, lead by our amazing youth pastor into a broken land crying out for a touch from God. Their mission is honorable and absolutely amazing. I am so proud of them, inspired to new heights. However even with this great opportunity to share the love of our Father, I find myself torn and a little broken by their departure.I must ask myself, why Lord is it that my heart is broken at the separation of my brothers and sisters. What is it father that bonds each of us, so close together...

I read once, that every work of art is a self portrait. If this is true then truly I have seen the face of God. In each one of His children I have seen a piece of Him, a little part of Him revealed through His beautiful works of art. In each of the amazing men and women of God, now on their way to the Philippines rests a little piece of my God. I can not help but miss each of them because in each of them, I miss my God. His correction and words of Wisdom, His father like and mentoring spirit, His compassion and love for His children, His joy and heart for all man kind. His genuine care for the individual. All shown, all set on display for the world to see, in his unique and hand crafted works of art.

Through this revelation of our God I have discovered that the only way to truly see our God is to see each other, to know them and recognize Christ in them, to truly seek after the little piece of God He hid inside them, so perfect and flawless. I know that no matter how I try, I could never know my God without knowing His children. In that I find peace and hope, because there are many of His children and I know only a fraction of a fraction. Praise you God for your love and mercy. I love you God and in turn I love each of your pieces of creation.

These Hands

These hands are for the broken hearted, for the empty handed, for the lost and confused. These hands bring peace, these hands bring healing, these hands bring life, these hands are strength to weary bones. These hands carry fire, these hands consume guilt. These hands break strongholds. These hands are strong and mighty. these hands do not fail. These hands always love. These hands beckon joy. These hands carry hope. These Hands are not my own. These hands belong to you.

When all seems lost and hope is gone, when life is absent and death is present. These hands will carry, these hands will hold. When hearts are broken and men have failed, when the walls are too high and the steel is too strong, these hands will break these hands will bend. When you're all alone and light is fading, when you're broken down without words, these hands will heal these hands will bind.

These hands have been consumed. These hands have been crucified. These hands no longer bare my will. These hands no longer bleed my blood. These hands are His, these hands are life. These hands are Christ's, they will conquer, they will prosper.

I Bear Witness

We are the witnesses today of what will be written in decades to come. We will be the ones who must write and explain to our descendants why we chose to make the choices we have made. It is our responsibility and our burden to remember these days. Another century gone by, another hundred years of human struggle. It is our responsibility to remember the great accomplishments of our day, and the great sadness. We must remember each birth and each death of each day.

Today I will attend the memorial of a righteous man of God. Not because he had obtained in his life some form of righteousness through his good deeds or good behavior, but through his faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. A man who's love for Christ compelled him to action, a man who's obedience to God set in motion life changing events. Gabriel Washburn discipled two of the greatest men of God I have ever met in my life, who's anointing is clear and the hand of God is vividly evident in every aspect of their lives. His obedience and guidance pulled them into a love and strength that even unto his death could not be shaken.

I stand in awe of the love of God. I new very little about Gabriel, my experiences with him are few and far between. I did not have the privileged to be discipled by such a man. However the fruit of his labor grows around me each day, it would be hard to go a day without remembering his life. I once read that true fruit is shown through your spiritual grandchildren. I know now that is what I am. Through Gabe's discipleship of Sean Gleason and Jordan Shaw, I too have been discipled by them. Brought in to the revelation and love of our God. I am so blessed to be a part of such a strong and spiritual lineage.

Now I bear witness of the death of such a great man, taken early from his calling by the thorns of Satan. Brought low by the power of condemnation and shame. It is a striking reminder that we all must answer to our convictions, that we must stand strong in our faith for one another. It is a reminder that we must all be open and accepting of one another's faults as not to put each other to shame. Most importantly it is a realization of the power of the individual. That one man can effect so many lives, so directly and indirectly.

So as we celebrate the life of God's son. Let us be compelled to be more like him. Let us walk out the anointing he was called to. We will use his death as a reminder of how we should live. Let his death bring to us grace and love for all those around us. We praise you God and thank you for your grace and love in our lives. Amen.

The Girl The Wolves And The Fire

The dream started with me and the Durr's entering into a restaurant like place something like the Seattle Needle. We were aware of some kind of pending doom... like the shock wave from a Nuclear Bomb. As we approached the Cashier, I looked up and saw a glass ceiling above us and I could see all the people dancing and eating. It was as if people were aware of the coming doom but didn't see it as serious or felt safe up in their restaurant. When we went up the stairs, we grabbed a Table closer to the edge, the room made kind of an L shape and we were seated right where the L bent. I stood up and I saw my friend and she called my name in a friendly way as if we had not seen each other in quite some time, and we hugged. Then as I went to pull away we began to dance. We danced for a while then slipped away from one another and went back to our families' tables. Then everything went black.

The next thing I remember is being in a destroyed City, looking down a sloped road. That is when I noticed my spiritual leader with me (A Shaman monk). I felt as though he was part of a group though it was never said, that there were more than just him, who were not there. He seemed urgent... as if my life was endanger and I had some soft of important task to take care of... for some reason I was especially important. As we walked along the road he guided me around debris... such as Cars and walls that had collapsed. As we walked... to my right I noticed a figure standing in the alleyway. He was large built and seemed almost to give off an aura or steam. I pointed him out to my Spiritual leader, who immediately began to move towards him. As he approached the man in the alley, who did not move, the man grabbed him and snapped his neck, then dropped him. Without losing a beat he began to run towards me and as he did he transformed into a wolf, a large one. I began to run but he caught up quickly and knocked me down. as I turned over I shoved my right arm into his mouth as far back as it would go so he couldn't bite me, specifically my neck. Stridently I became aware of God around me and I was consumed by the holy spirit and literally covered in flames. I grabbed the wolf by side of the head and pinned it to the road, then I bit its throat and ripped it out.

The next thing I remember is trying to avoid being captured by the wolves. I had returned to my old house (not my real one but apparently in my dream my home or the home of someone I knew) and they tracked me there, there was a large hole in the floor and I could see them below me and they saw me and began to come up for me. So I ran out into the forest, the wilderness. And as I ran I came to a building... something like a business office or a hospital where apparently the girl form before worked. I had been trying to find her as she was the only close person I could remember or think of and it seemed apparent that I needed to find her. I got fairly close to her but don't remember really speaking to her only seeing her and her seeing me. Most of the rest is hazy and I don't remember it.