Understanding Prosperity

I've often heard people use the phrase "dirt poor" I laugh every time. Very few people actually know what that means. Its been a long time since the people of the United States have had dirt floors. The closest thing even relatable for many is a crummy apartment building.

All of our perspectives are skewed by our experience. To some, being wealthy means having a home or going to college. To others it may be that next piece of property or a large investment paying off. But because our perspectives are skewed we tend to judge other's based off of what they do or don't have. We judge ourselves the same way. Whether its an attempt to define ourselves, prove ourselves, or just the desire to succeed... we tend to forget the point.

I was just sitting here drinking a cup of coffee doing a little reading and working on a project for my church. Not because I had to, but because it was enjoyable. It literally gives me joy. And not just a little bit of joy either. I mean there are few things in this world I enjoy more. Just sitting here in peace, working, thinking, drinking coffee. Its a truly intimate time for me. Its a time I like to pray, and discuss with God whats going on in my life, where I'm at. Suddenly it had occurred to me what Paul was talking about when he said in Philippians 4:12:

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want."

I was like. HEY! Things aren't that bad, why am I always so worried about the struggle! Isn't the end all be all to be sitting here, with a cup of coffee, working on something with God? Isn't that the goal? To be sitting with Him, drinking coffee, going over the day. Planing our next move? Man, what have I been missing?

I understand WHY I think the way I do, I grew up dirt poor. I know what its like not to have. I know what its like to struggle. To be alone. To be destitute. I know what its like to feel totally useless. Those experiences drive me to work harder and at the same time drive me towards hopelessness, towards apathy. The knowing damages my perspective and causes me to idolize an idea of prosperity that doesn't even make since. It causes me to throw out any idea that doesn't fit into my perspective. Whats more, is that I know it, I understand it, I am vigilant against it, and yet I succumb to it. I succumb to how I view those with wealth and those without wealth. I succumb to how I view men's hearts. To what they'd do with it. The knowing doesn't help.

Get this. Knowing doesn't change it. It took a moment with God to even really understand it. Prosperity isn't about the wealth or the lack of it. Its not about even "being content with what you have" its about being content with the PROCESS. Is about letting it happen and just sitting down brewing another cup of coffee, putting your hands to something and saying, whats the next move God? Prosper me.

So that is what I'm going to do.

The Risk Is All Mine

I'm told I am a very black and white person. I have a tendency to make up my mind, draw a line in the sand and stand by what I believe. People have different impressions of what the says about me. I've been called fanatical, stubborn, hard headed, close minded, integris, loyal, faithful. Some people have seen it as a great weakness. Some people have seen it as a great strength. I'm sure there is truth to both sides. 

The truth is, it has never been a difficult thing for me to stand up for what I believe. I'm a deeply passionate and morally driven individual. I genuinely care about the issues that effect other's lives. I make a very plain connection between the issues that we have and the quality of life we experience. Most of the time I am so quickly moved by a wrong or injustice that my mouth vomits out my belief. This is true of the way I live my life as well. You could ask anyone close to me. It is near impossible to get me to act contrary to what I believe. After all, the risk is all mine.

What is difficult for me however, is to believe for other people. Something that, as a christian has really challenged me. I think the heart of it comes down to this. I have no problem risking my life, or my reputation. Fundamentally, I find character and truth to be infinity more valuable than any of the former. But, when it comes to risking those same things for other people's sake. I get more than a little nervous. It is a real test of what I believe.

I could convince myself that it is my care and love for people that causes this. That I value people so much so that I do not wish to risk any harm to them. But that's simply not true. I have to really evaluate why I value truth and character over life and reputation and I think that the root of that is found in Christ. From where I sit in life, from my own personal experience and understanding, I have found that the promises and character of God are infinity more valuable than anything I could obtain in this life. Greater that people. Greater than wealth or material possession. Greater than any title or position or influence.

 So if I truly believe that, and if I truly believe that Jesus Christ raised from the dead with the promise of eternal life and limitless all enveloping relationship, then if I really care about individuals, then I MUST believe the same thing for them. If I am not willing to risk those people's life and pride on the promises of God's truth and the greater truth in Christ's  Character, then one of two things are true. Either I do not love those people. Or I do not actually believe what I say I do.

This has been something that has weighed heavily on my heart in the recent months. With the understanding and God given revelation of this core belief, I have come to be so compelled to speak into other's lives and to intentionally reach out and risk other's in a way that has really tested my faith. It's been challenging to speak truth when no one wants to hear it and to directly stand in opposite of what seems to be plain fact. Many people have accused me of arrogance and religious dogma, they have a hard time understanding how risking other's can be a loving act. I can understand that. I'm willing to look the arrogant fool if it means other's will reap the fruit of intervention.

I'm glad Jesus was too.

What is it to be a Bride?

You know, it's strange at first to know that God calls us His bride. Especially as a man I found it uneasy to be referred to in a feminine nature. What is a bride to me? What does it means to be His bride. I think at first we hang on the idea that a bride is a woman. Which is accurate but really it falls short of the true symbolism of a bride. I can't help but think of Rachel. When Jacob fought so hard and labored so many years of his life away to be with her. It didn't matter how high to price raised or how many years it might cost him. There was no other option for him. She was his bride. 

To be a bride means to be waiting, to be engaged in, or to be recently married. When God calls us His bride its a promise. It's a covenant. And when you understand the reality of the Cross and the magnitude of His blood spilled for us and when we really get what 30 years on the earth patiently waiting and thousands of recorded years of suffering and betrayal, when the beauty of it all really hits us. We find the value of our dowery to be infinite. That no matter what the price was, he would have paid it from His own flesh. 

Like His heart breaks so profoundly and so deeply by our misery that His hands stretch out to heal our bodies and our hearts. Like he literally bore our sickness. If we're honest, when we love someone how often we desire to bare their burdens and heal their sickness. Like we'd take the cancer straight from our grandparents body. Like we'd take it ourselves. If we could just take the broken heart of our daughters and bare that even for a little while. We'd gladly lift the stress of our brides day. And there in the midst of all that wishing and desiring there stands our groom.

His body eaten by cancer. His shoulders burdened by stress and his brow wrinkled with broken-hearted-ness. Hanging gladly on Calvary. What's it mean to be His bride? To be sought after. To be desired with such jealousy that it consumes oceans and planets. To be purchased at such an outrageous price. To have such a debt paid. Hosea 3:2

We are engaged in such a love story this would has only ever known once. To be His bride is to know salvation. Is to exceedingly expect His arrival. It is to know our true worth. It is to be loved. 

The myth of loving people

I have lived a pretty short life when I think about the years I've spent on this earth. Its odd to me though, to feel so old. My short twenty-three years have felt like fifty. As naive and unlearned that I still am, I have my moments where evidence of that age run through my face. Great suffering in my life has produced much perseverance. It has produced much character. Much understanding. Above all, much love. However, it has come with it's own cost. Apathy, insecurity, pride, and a jaded perspective.

I know what its like to feel helpless. I know what its like to feel weak. I've been beaten down, beaten up, stepped on, stepped over, and ran through. I've played the victim. I've played the bully. I know what its like to be the one stepping on. I've been the one to stand up for someone who no one else will. I've been the one who no one stands up for. I have seen a lot of hate. A lot of ignorance. Which is why it has been so easy for me to find love even in the most dark places.

Because my perspective has been broad, even though jaded, throughout my life I have been able to see a full picture. Love causes all other things to fall out of focus. Like the focal point of our world, everything else blurs around it. The bible so accurately describes it as a light on a hill. So very vivid and bright in contrast to the world apart from it.

I remember my senior year, I was trying to think of a quotation or saying or clever one liner to have engraved inside my senior ring. It didn't take me long to fall on 1 Corinthians 13:4:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud."

I wasn't a Christian. I had no interest in Christianity. This verse spoke so boldly in contrast of the world I had known for eighteen years. It didn't' just stand out from all other quotes, it stood apart. They couldn't be measured together. Love is patient. It is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. Man, that is all I have ever wanted to be. If there was one thing I have ever wanted to portray, it has been this. So desperately, that I eventually found myself at an alter praying there was a God out there who could truly be Love.

So when I hear people use the term "we just need to love people" my heart jumps in my throat and my eyes narrow. "WE JUST" what?! Do you even understand whats coming out of your mouth? "WE JUST" Nah. We MUST. We MUST need to love people. It makes me wonder what they think love is. "Just" hanging out with people? "Just" being their friend? "Just" letting bygones be bygones? "Just" "being there" for them? I'm sorry (not sorry), that is not love. That isn't even scratching the surface. That doesn't even make it into the same club as love. That's "like" that's "friendly" that's "being a decent human being". Love is so much more.

Love means speaking light into dark. Love means contrast. Love means conflict. I thank God that Christ first loved me, cause had He not given up everything and pursue my wretched soul with the full force of heaven, I wouldn't even know who He was. Had he not corrected me like a good father does, I wouldn't know what love is.

Love is what my friend Morgan Quinonez told me one after noon in history class when I told her I wasn't capable of believing in God and her responding, so broken:
"Then you'll burn."
Like... SHE BELIEVED IT. She believed it and responding IN LOVE to speak the truth. I know what you're think'n tho.
"But Tom, that isn't productive. That didn't sow any seed or help anyone."
That's crap. That made a hardened Atheist go from attacking her religion to questioning it.

Love is Timothy Durr one night while he watched one of his best friends weep from a broken heart in the dead of night say "The ones who straddle the fence end up dead."

Maybe that isn't relatable to you. Love is my Father. Who taught me that no matter what happened he would never let anything happen to me. I HAVE NEVER felt unsafe around my father. In fact I have never felt unsafe anywhere I knew he could get to fast. I was the kid in school who told people my dad would beat up their dad. 'Cause my dad would. You touched his babies and nothing on God's green earth would stop him from ending you. Ask Bell County Texas what happens when people mess with his kids. The felony alone should give you a clue.

Maybe you didn't have parents (looking at you Gleason). Love is my grandmother telling my my whole life that lying is the lowest thing a person can do. Creating in my such a fear of lies that I can't stand being around them. They make my stomach turn. Love is her speaking her life teaching me character even when I didn't want to learn it. Grandma, I couldn't be more grateful.

Love isn't some sweet feeling you get towards people. It isn't "being nice". Love is speaking truth, even it means you lose that friendship. Love is what's there when you offer wisdom and they reject it and come back a year later full of hurt. Love is unyielding. Circumstances don't change love. Talking to all you 13 year olds who think they're "in love" with Susie and next quarter ya'll done already "fallen out".

Love means that if you care for someone, you don't stop caring. Even when they choose to go someplace else, with someone else, you still look out for them. Love is Gabe Washburn answering the phone at absurd hours of the night to talk to hurting young men IN HIS OWN HURT.

Guys, love means dying for each other. I know I've said it again and again. Get it. Run with it. Dying to yourself means even though you're justified in hating them or abandoning them, you're still there for them. Love means that when they're crucifying you with their words, you're loving them with yours.

Love means when you make a mistake, no matter how great their offense may be, you own that mistake and show them that you care.

Stop believing this mythology about love. It isn't some cute motivational poster or retweetable meme. It is that unyielding desire to comfort, protect, correct, and edify despite the hurt. Love is speaking truth to the cross.

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."
John 15:13

Real Men Make War

I have a really interesting way of cooping with problems. Usually is starts with a really defeated attitude about the problem. The more drastic the likelihood of failure the easier I get a child like attitude. Then, all at once... I get really really really angry. I get so indignant about the situation and furious at the idea that a situation has trapped me. Usually at this point I go to War. I start searching for any and every tool that could possibly help me in the situation. Then I start using those tools to fight. More often than not I get pretty belligerent and impossible to detour.

Lately I've been trying to skip that first time and just go straight to war. When a situation pops up I try to just go to war against it. That includes my own emotional responses to situations. I get angry at getting angry. It's kind of a silly thing to say but in all seriousness I make war against my natural emotional responses to situations because they're just not Godly.

A key area of my life has always been my purity. It's something that I don't take lightly. I value my purity highly. I never want to be a vulgar or distasteful individual. No matter how funny people think it is. No matter how cool people think it is. I don't enjoy cursing. I don't enjoy saying or doing anything common. There are a variety of words (which I won't mention because I have friends who will enjoy using them over and over) that a simply hate that are commonly used. They aren't particularly nasty but they're common. I don't like them.

I don't enjoy toilet humor. It isn't funny. It makes me want to punch someone in the face. It's the most unintelligent way of joking. I don't enjoy scantly clad women. I find it repulsive. It's not that the women are unattractive or anything and I'm certainly not trying to tear down anyone, but wearing less clothing just tells me where your brain is and that's super unattractive. I REALLY don't enjoy perverse speech. I don't enjoy these things because they're a direct attack on my purity. They're a declaration of war against my identity. I like my identity. I like who God has made me to be. So I make war for my purity. I cast down, tear down, break down, burn down, ANYTHING that comes against my purity. I walk out of theaters when things go sour. I flip off the radio when something filthy comes on. I've left rooms, houses, parties, and friends because of the content. I've stopped listening to whoel genres of music because of their content.

It's not because I want to be some super spiritual guy, its cause I want to be real. How could I lie to myself and God? How could I accept something into my life that I know in every fiber of my being to be wrong?! I reject it. Like an infection to the body. I pump myself full of the world's anti- virus in the form of powerful worship and the deep seeded word of God.

I make war against attitudes. I don't like when I'm being negative or pissy. I don't think its ok. I don't agree with the way I treat my friends when I get angry. I love my friends. Dearly. I have friends that have taken far too much abuse from my backhanded sharp words. I won't accept it. I make war against it. I check my attitudes. I apologize for my er.

One of my most valued friends Ashley Cathey has been the victim more than once of my poor attitudes. I'm not ok with that. That's my sister. Someone I care about and love deeply and someone I only want to see succeed in life. How could I possibly treat her poorly? How could I speak perversely or vulgar around her? Doesn't she deserve better?

I've had a friend for years named Alex Maras who has stuck with me through thick and then. When I was the biggest jerk in the world, he was a faithful friend. When I went crazy and gave my life to Christ, despite his disagreements with some of my choices, he stuck with me. I have more than once cut him with my words in a way that no one else can. I've used our friendship as a tool to get what I want. Why would I not make war on something like that?

Depression and downheartedness has drained my life in the past years. It has pulled every fiber of goodness and joy from my life. Making even the most joyous occasions miserable. Tearing down everything I love and twisting it to hurt. I make war against that. I don't accept it. I demand joy in my life. Because I have an abundant supplier of the joy.

I make war against every situation and every emotion that tries to tear from me the promises and character of God. I don't just do it because I need to, but because others need me to. More importantly I want me to. They want me to. God WANTS me to. It's not just something I need. It's something I want.

I desperatly desire purity.
I desperatly desire kindness.
I desperatly desire patients.
I desperatly desire joy.
I desperately desire to live a life of Godliness.

So I make a desperate war against anything that tries to take them. Sometimes I lose. Sometimes I win. Sometimes I spend the night on my knees. But I fight. Because what I fight for is worth it. It's worth every single loss. It's worth the scars and the mistakes. Because the life I live is full of Christ and there is nothing more valuable on this planet and nothing more fulfilling than walking out His plan for your life. Real men make war. And maybe we're not much good at it. Maybe our Win/Loss ratio looks like a stacked deck. But we're fighting for what matters.

Understanding sacrifice...

I've often wondered about the concept of sacrifice. It's kind of strange, isn't it?

Webster's dictionary defines sacrifice as:

1. an act of offering to a deity something precious; especially :  the killing of a victim on an altar
2. something offered in sacrifice
3. destruction or surrender of something for the sake of something else
4. something given up or lost <the sacrifices made by parents>

Something given up. Something lost. It can't be returned. It can't be reacquired. It's gone.

In the church, we often sacrifice our time. Or creativity. Our minds. We give up our finances, we surrender our wills, we submit our choices. We give away something that we can't ever get back. We can't return time. We can't get back a choice once made. Sometimes I think we forget the significance of what we're really doing when we're setting up chairs for the next service. We forget the power we have every day. The choice.

Deuteronomy 30:15 says:

"See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction."

We sacrifice our will, our dreams, our ideas, our plans when we choose life. I don't think people really understand that when we choose to be false, to lie. To not be ourselves, we are literally choosing death. When we betray what we know to be true, not just about ourselves but about our God, we choose destruction.

I can't tell you the amount of times I've done that. I forget sometimes. I forget who I am, I look away from the mirror and suddenly I forget what I looked like (James 1:24). I don't just betray myself, as if that's not significant enough, I betray God's purpose and plan for me. I forget that who I am takes sacrifice. Sacrifice of what I THINK I should be. Sacrifice of not believing the lie. I forget that I have to lose that entirely. I have to give it up.

How else could we measure dedication?! How else could we show Him that we're submitted to Him? That we really love Him? Wait. Hold on, but is it sacrifice if we don't have a choice? Is it sacrifice if in order for us to have fellowship with Him, we have to first sacrifice ourselves? Sacrifice our choices, our thoughts, our bodies to Him? Isn't that the kicker though? He first gave. He first loved (1 John 4:19). We never entered into Christ through our sacrifice but through His.

How else would we measure love? How else would we really understand the depth of His love if not through sacrifice? And what greater love is there than to lay down one's life for another? (John 15:13)

It shakes me to the core. How shallow is my love? What weak is my sacrifice? It's so easy to give up things that are renewable. It's too easy. It's too easy to give up words. Compliments. Exaltation. Praise. Christ requires something deeper. Something from the core of a human being. He requires the heart. But it's a trade isn't it. His heart for ours. Our stony brittle broken hearts for his living beating flesh (Ezekiel 36:26).

So then, what more could I give up? What more could I sacrifice? How much depth does my love really have? Search my heart. I think I kind of get what Paul meant when he said: "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21).

Why I Have Given Up Video Games...

Recently, I've made the decision to stop playing video games. Those who know me, know how much that means to me, and that in part is why I've chosen to do it.

I didn't have the best childhood. I was raised by a single father with four kids. We didn't have much money growing up. We didn't get the nice things other kids got. Sometimes we slept on the floor. Sometimes we slept on the dirt. My father tried his best to take care of his kids. He worked jobs you'd only see hard working Hispanics take. The jobs everyone else considered themselves too good for. I remember times when I wouldn't see him for weeks because he didn't get home until late and went straight to bed just to get up early the next morning before we woke.

Most of the things us kids had were second hand. It killed my dad. All he ever wanted was to take care of his kids. We learned early in life what takes some people a lifetime. Life ins't fair. People don't get handed everything they want. Sometimes you have to make tough choices you don't want to make. Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do.

Needless to say my life was less than desirable most of my childhood. I didn't always notice it though. My dad did his best to distract us from the reality of our situations. When we become homeless my 3rd grade year of school, my dad did his best to make it feel like we were just camping. smores and hot dogs were always around. But try as he might, we weren't stupid.

As I grew older I grew to hate this world. I truly truly hated it. I hated the hurt. I hated how unfair it was. Despite how good of a person I tried to be I found that the world pretty much hated me. People didn't like me. I moved around a lot. It got to the point that I really didn't know how to interact with people. I was awkward. I was rude. And people didn't like that. So because people didn't like me, I didn't like them. I decided to take all that pain and that hurt and use it to build a great big wall around myself. I shut people out. I didn't think things were funny anymore. I didn't find good in anything at all.

When I got to high school my dad gave me my first computer. I had always had an affinity for video games because they helped me forget about my life. I forgot about the hurt. I could be the person I wanted to be without fear of rejection or hurt. In video games, people already had a predetermined opinion of me and it was usually good. It was a nice escape. I took the computer my dad gave me and I completely abandoned reality. I had no desire for it. I didn't even like sleeping because the dreams were just as bad as the school I was forced to attend. I wanted no part in it.

Fast forward to my senior year, I got saved. Jesus entered my life and flipped me upside down. He came in and he wrecked my heart, completely changing me from the inside out. I got plugged in, discipled and learned what God really had planned for my life.

These past three years have been the best years of my life. But recently I've tried to become really transparent with myself. I've found that my addiction to video games has become a hindrance not only for my life but also for my effectiveness for Christ. Its become a massive distraction from my actual goals and desires. It set itself as an idol in my life and I have loved it more than my life. I have realized that it has become an outlet for when I don't want to deal with a situation or an emotion. I just bury it away in my games and pretend like it isn't there. So, at least for now I have decided that I'm not going to allow them to continue the way that they are. I've given them up to pursue the things in my life that are truly worth living for.

Becoming a man...

Sometimes, I wish that becoming a man was as easy as our culture makes it look. Sometimes, I wish that becoming a man was a simple as some treat it. Sometimes I envy those who spend their life as boys, never having to actually step up to the proverbial plate before them. It's so much easier! It takes so much less time. Get a job, get a car, get a wife. Have kids. Presto, man. Like, making money and obtaining things automatically brings us to some kind of maturity. Like having a women is more effective than loving a women. Like working a job is more important than effecting a life. As if when we learn to focus on ourselves, we suddenly reach the pentacle of our earthy existence.

I'm so tired of hearing about it. I'm so tired of seeing it! Watching people just blow themselves up over it. I watch young men fall apart every day over it! Then, when they get there they fall apart again. Realizing that everything they had hoped they'd get when they reached that goal isn't even there. That being a "man" isn't even the same thing as being a man. They get that cheap taste in their mouths and they don't even know how to cope with the lie they've been told for the last couple decades of their life.

It's really not surprising though. This life is so hard. This route I've decided to take is so long. It's drained years. Its drained emotions. Its drained patients. Its brought me to the edge of myself time and time again. Its caused me to stretch and become more than what circumstances have left me as. I've spent many sleepless nights crying out to God. I've shed enough tears to revitalize the Sierra desert. I've made mistakes. I've gotten hurt. It just isn't easy. But, even all that would be easy if only the path was clear. But it's not, it's wild. It's overrun with the unknown. It's an adventure. It requires more endurance and perception than any boy is capable of possessing. It forces us into men.

Real men are kind. Real men are patient. Real men are not self seeking. Real men are not puffed up. Real men don't envy. Real men aren't provoked. Real men think no evil. Real men don't celebrate iniquity. Real men celebrate truth. Real men bear all things. Real men believe all things. Real men HOPES all things. Real men endure. Real men are Love. And love doesn't fail. Love goes to the places other people don't want to go. It does the work, most men deem too difficult. It deals with the situations people don't want to deal with. Love is hard.

So I'm learning to put away childish things. To set the video games, the fantasies, the delusions aside. To focus on the things that are not just important to my Father, but to me. Honestly.

I am so far from being a man. Each day takes me no measurable distance closer to becoming one. Its a process. If it wasn't, we wouldn't need seventy plus years to do it. So, I sit here. Screaming in the night. Fighting in the day. Desperately trying to look forward. Trying to learn from my mistakes. Trying to learn to be kind. Trying to learn to be love. And even though I usually feel unqualified, ill-equipped and stacked against... I take Hope that the same spirit that raised Christ from the dead is working in me. Teaching me to be in this world and not off it. To work. To use my passions for glory. To love. Bringing me hope when in the dead of night it all just seems so hopeless.

This video by Trae Elijah says it pretty accurately.

Love. Is. Kind.

The older I get the more I realize how unkind I can be. I'm actually blown away by how unloving I have been. People like to think that loving someone is in part measured by our intentions. I've heard the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Love is not measured by intentions. Intentions didn't take Jesus to the cross. Action did.

I suddenly realize how little my actions resemble love. My intentions have always been good. Even filled with love. Rarely, however my actions have. I tend to be quick and sharp. I've allowed this world to shape me into a tool. One that is jaded and hard. Pointed and sharp like a broken piece of glass. I cut to the touch.

My heart swells with regret and desperation. That's what Jesus does inside of us. He swells us with love. He digs deep inside us, nestles down and then pushes out. My heart swells with love and its my responsibility to express that love, to share it. To freely scatter that love. To give it the opportunity to plant itself in someone else's heart.

Father, open my eyes and my heart to what you're doing in other's lives. Give me kind words. A gentle touch. Loving actions. Let my speech be full with purpose. Let my serving be full of praise. Let me be transparent father. Broken before you and confident in your grace. Remind me continually of your power in my life. Teach me to share. Break open my heart to your world Lord and let me spend every ounce of this life until I am empty and spent. Broken and filled.

The Human Heart

The human heart has always puzzled me. As I have gone through the Bible I've gotten a rough glimpse at it from the outside looking in. It causes us often to chase after things we never needed and sometimes it hardens against the one thing we do. It has often lead us astray and away from our true love. Its often called fickle.

However, once in a while it aspires to greatness. Now and then it causes a man or woman to rise to action. To do the unthinkable. It dismisses fear. It breaks apart even the most terrible of circumstances and causes us to overcome things we would never have thought possible. Above all it has caused us to be moved with compassion. It causes us to love.

It's a tool, like a compass when we are lost in the thick woods. Like the bright north star when we're lost at sea. It guides us forward. The difference between our demise and our salvation lies in how we gauge it. How we interpret it. The north star is useless if you don't know it points north.

We must learn to do what David did. We must learn to use God as our North. If we learn to line our hearts up to Him, we'll find it leads us straight into his warm embrace. What more could we want? What more does this world have to offer than the Father's love? What else would I heart desire. The problem is our hearts get all off focus, they lose their gauge and they run a muck looking for that love.

Father, teach me. Guide me. Watch over me and above all else, guard my heart. Its fickle and untrained, but it desperate desires you. Teach me to find a woman after you heart. To surround myself with those who run for you. Let my fickle heart let go of things that hurt me and to grab a hold of your trail and guide me home.

How To Drink Water

We like to think of Christ's righteousness like water. The word is often referred to it as the waters of life. We talk about thirsting after God, but the problem is that when you're thirsty, you know you're thirsty. Its instinctive to know the feeling of not having water.

Here's were it gets cray cray. The way we view our spiritual lives is the same way we view our drinking habits. I'm a prime candidate of drinking sugary drinks in replacement of water. It tastes better. Its easier to drink, I like the taste. Its immediate. I don't drink water that often, cause there's no immediate "feel-good" to it. The irony is that a half hour after drinking my sugar-filled-death-drink I get a headache or I crash. Had I drank water, I'd be feeling awesome. Instead, I feel like crap. We do the same thing with Christ. We like the sugar filled gospel. It taste good. It feels good. It has an immediate benefit to us. The problem is that it won't sustain us. We get thirsty. We get headaches.

So you'd think it be pretty obvious, like drink water and you'll do better in the long run. Its easy for us to say "those luke warm Christians, always drinking the sugar water!" but the reality is that most people don't even realize there is water. They don't know that the thirst they feel isn't for the cheap easy christian life. They don't know its for the full sustaining and revitalizing life.

How do we fix this? Whats the remedy for our sugar-consuming christian habits? Its so simple. Teaching. You can't expect someone who doesn't know something to be accountable for that information. We as a body have to remind each other whats good for us and whats not. We have to teach each other and prove what is pleasing and acceptable. The best way to do that is to offer people water. I.E. the Word of God. I'm talking really good stuff, the deep stuff at the bottom of the well. Something with substance. When people get the taste of that... and see how it sustains them in the difficult times, they'll never go back to the sugar water. It won't be the same.

Help Someone Who Deserves A Little Support

My friend Sabrina Hanson is trying very hard to win this Kindle Fire, from a crazy face contest. Besides the fact that her face is really nasty, she really deserves to win this thing. Heres why.

Sabrina has recently join our Church's media team and has put a enormous amount of time and energy into is. I can't tell you how blessed we have been to have a volunteer like this who is willing to give up so much of her time to see peoples lives changed.

Despite the tragedies that have recently gone on in her life, this girl has poured out everything for our team and I want to see her blessed! So if you have a moment, go to the link below and like the global venture page and vote for this young lady 5 times. You have to refresh the page each time you vote. I'm sure she appreciates all the votes and support shes getting. Thank you all.

http://promotion.binkd.com/Contest.aspx?id=7121&eid=334474

Because He Loves You So Much...

Every time I look at this image, it breaks my heart. A picture of a lion and a little kid reaching out to one another but separated by glass. Realistically this lion may want to eat the little girl as a snack (joking) but symbolically there is something profound I find here.

I grew up without a mother. I never had someone to hold me when I was crying or to teach me the compassion and heart of a women. There are many experiences and life lessons that I spent a great deal of time without. However one thing that I did not miss out on, was the love of a father.

I never had to wonder if someone loved me. I never had to wonder if someone would protect me, if they could protect me. I knew that if anything ever tried to come between my father and I, he would tear it apart. I was always proud of my father. Even in his alcoholism, I never once doubted his love or ability to take care of me. He has a felony to prove it.

When God was introduced into my life, it became overly apparent that He held those same characteristics as my father did. Loving, protective, jealous for me. As I contemplated my time in life without God, I began to get a picture like this one in my mind. God says Himself, that He will never leave us, so He must have always been there... right?! So what... what could keep Him from us?! A veil. Revelation. All that time... He was just sitting there, patiently... desperately... jealously. Waiting for me to look on the other side of it. Waiting to rip the only thing separating us apart.

That's how much He loves us.

The very idea that God is just waiting on us... waiting... trying send a message through that glass house. Unable to speak to us... because we are so unwilling to listen... unwilling to believe the truth. That He's always been there. That He never abandoned us.

I get this picture in my mind of a little kid trapped in a dark dark room. Filled with hate. Filled with hopelessness. Assaulted and hurt by the evil that occupies the room. The only door to the room is made from solid wood. Worn down by years of pounding and banging... scratching... trying to get out. Screams can be heard inside the room... crying... sobbing...

On the other side of the door sits a man. A father. He hears the cries of his child. With each yelp and scream he pounds harder on the door. Like the beat of a drum, without pause and without relent. Desperately trying to break down the door. Unable to open it from the outside.

The words shoot violently from His mouth.
"Unlock the door!"

He never gives up. He never walks away. Because He Loves You So Much...

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.

Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness...

Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.
[2 Timothy 2:22]

I have strived for 3 years in an attempt to maintain purity in both my mind and body. In the society that we live, this is a fight with many causalities. It is not a fight one can take lighthearted. I have my own personal shames and failures in this fight. Yet, in spite of its difficulty and near impossible goal... I push on.

It is not some extreme source of will power or some divine mantle that has given me such a drive to fight. I have been given a very good reason to fight. I have never engaged in a relationship with a girl in which I did not place my full heart on the table. I have and I will always love people as if I will love them forever. Especially those who I had developed feelings for. I am a covenant man. I am imperfect and fail, but I never forget those who I have committed to. I have always been this way, it is a God instilled trait. It is part of my character. As Paul put it: 

"for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable." 

[Romans 11:29]

Because of this, I have suffered. My poor choices and fickle heart have in the past drawn me in to my own self inflicted defeat. If I were to relate myself best to a biblical character, I think tragically I would best compare to Samson.

Before Christ entered my life, this combination brought me to the brink of despair. Incapable of functioning. It bound me. Crushed me. I had become a shell of the man who I once strived to become. My heart you see, was poisoned. I had discovered realities of this world that made life not worth living.

Fidelity was no longer chief. It was no longer established above relationships. In fact I doubted the possibility of its existence. Fidelity being the value I held most dear. Trust was gone. There was only me. Despite my unwavering loyalty and dedication to those I love. I found that it was never returned when it was most needed.

Chivalry was dead. It was no longer acceptable in our society. I could no longer throw my coat down for a lady to walk across, I could no longer open doors for ladies without being told I was a chauvinist. My strength, both mental spiritual and physical was no longer needed. Women did not want a man who protected and cared for them. What had once been seen as true manly behavior had become a twisted and tainted belief. It was dead. Women did not want to be a damsel in distress. They did not want to be saved. To be sought after. The place and the purpose that I had drawn my strength was found to be an empty crypt. 

Purity was lost. I found that despite my best efforts to maintain my purity (even before Christ's intervention in my life) it was in vain. Purity was no longer valued. It was mocked. Virginity was without value. A clean mind was without place. Things that I desperately fought for. They had become fool's gold. I had been chasing the wrong treasure. My desire for a pure relationship. A pure marriage, had become hopeless.

I found myself in a world I did not wish to be a part of. Love had been my purpose. Every goal and achievement in my life. All the knowledge and effort I had put into my mind, became suddenly worthless. My world had become pain. I had placed my heart out for the world to see, given my strength away. It came back wanting.

Then suddenly, in all that pain... when death had become a longing... like the desire to run away... like a pool of water in the desert. Desirable, promising, peaceful... a savior stepped in.

He restored me. Filled me. Held me together in the cold nights... when despite my service and loyalty... I could still feel the pain. Slowly... like a nurse ministering to a man recovering from war, he brought me back to life.

Three years, I have pursued purity. I have forsaken all relationships. I have forsaken all intimacy. I have given up any form of love that does not meet the requirements of Christ Jesus. I have decided that I will wait forever. For Fidelity. For Chivalry. For Purity. That at the end of my days if I never experience love again, the love of Christ will sustain me. I will stand alone. Forever. For the sake of what is right and true.

Because even when the world comes down on me. Even when this earthly love fails me, there is a savior who will tear apart heaven and earth if I call on His name. He is faithful to answer. He is pure and without blemish. And yet, despite the fact that I am not. He still is.

So I will flee, and I will run. I will run with the young men who have taken up the difficult fight for purity. I will pursue righteousness. Faith. Love. Peace. Because of first my God, who I owe all loyalty and faith. But also because if I can't do so for the one Christ has picked out for me, then how could I ever expect her to.

There is still Hope for Purity.

I wholly believe that there is still an obtainable purity in our minds bodies and souls. That it is not mad to believe that we can ascend beyond our flesh. That true love is made possible when purity is established above desire.

Solitude, His Peace.

It is in the darkest hours of the night that I find peace. When everything and everyone else is covered in darkness it is easier to find Him. I feel as though I'm back in the Garden, walking in His presence. There is a peace and a wholeness when I am alone with just Him...

In life I find many struggles and difficulties, primarily in myself. There is turmoil and unrest in my soul. On one hand I rebel and fight the immense difficulty and expectations of my King. I disdain His presence and wish only to be free from what seems an unfair imprisonment.

On the other hand, I am His righteous servant. I give my life up for the His glorious will. I bow before His crown and see the justice of His being. I love His presence and I seek it constantly, I understands His expectations and I find them agreeable...

And so a civil war takes place in my soul. I am like the restless sea, constantly shifting and turning in the night... gaining and receding... the tide of my heart ever so changing.

I am both the Monster in the woods and the Knight whom slays him... when the black overwhelms me all of the struggle passes away and my soul finds peace, the King's presence demands peace. Both sides throw down arms and submit to His righteous decree, knees bowed they give over their struggle in the hope of true peace.

And so... in this night my heart is made still... through all the worry and all the pain I find His love breaks through to the sunrise. You see, when we are alone... that is when we find that the enemy we're fighting has always been ourselves.

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.

The Laborer Is Worthy Of His Wages

Pride, often in our lives is our downfall. We are unable to put it aside and accept the help of others, or we are unwilling to put it down for the sake of others. It alienates us from those we love and ourselves. It puts us in a position in which we can no longer be ourselves. We gain an unrelenting fear of failure because while in pride it is all we have.

Pride has been a reoccurring theme in my life, as it is with many people. It is something I struggle with on a daily basis. However, I have come to peace with my own imperfection and short comings, as they were all settled on the Cross with our Lord Jesus. Yet, I feel inadequate at times. I feel as though I am not doing enough, or that I am not doing the right thing.

My heart is and always will be for His kingdom. I strive each day to further it in whatever way I can and I submit and serve as best that I know how. However, I do not work. I have no job, except that I am employed by His kingdom.  I bring in not revenue and I save no money.

This is my inadequacy. I feel as though I should. I feel like I must work to obtain something, as though somehow if I could just get a job, if I could just gain something, that everything would be alright. I want desperately to work and gain, to show achievement, to show progress. What kind of man wouldn't want that? What kind of man would not want to provide and to give freely. And yet, in serving Him, I have found no cause for a Job. I am supported and taken care of. I am given to freely and blessed abundantly with friends and family who care so much for me.

Is it Pride or Righteousness that tugs at my heart to go out and obtain, to provide. That is a question only my heart and God can answer. Recently it has been an on going struggle to deal with this inadequacy. I have not known how to deal with it. Should I drop what I am doing and get a job? Is that Biblical and Righteous? Or is it Pride and selfishness? In this search, deep into my heart and in the spirit of God I came to a revelation. My Father, God lead me to Luke 10:7 "And remain in the same house, eating and drinking such things as they give, for the laborer is worthy of his wages. Do not go from house to house."

This is the answer that my Father gave to me and the same He gives to all His servants wherever their faith is. I am worthy of my wages because I serve a just and fair God. I serve a Loving and fatherly God. Thank you Lord, for your grace and spirit of revelation and comes upon me. You change me and humble me daily, you are my rock. You are my center, my everything. Amen.