The 100th blog

So it is new year's eve, and here I am blogging. I should be out partying, bringing in the new year in a drunken haze, but instead I am writing this year end epiphany. After I finish I'll tie one on.

The beginning of a new year is probably my favorite holiday. I love the chance to start over, to begin again, to re-evaluate everything about my life and get an excuse to do some things different. I'm not really into new year's resolutions as much as I am into new beginnings.

If there is one thing that Jesus came for, it was to give us a fresh start. In Him, I can get a mulligan. I get a do over. I get to have my sins washed away and start clean. I like that He is totally about my getting a second (and third and fourth) chance. I like that He pays what I could never afford.

This is my 100th blog for the year. I appreciate deeply anyone who has actually read what I have written. For those of you who know me well, you know the stuff of life that my blogs birth out of. The journey is always visceral for me. I live what I talk about.

A friend once told me that I had the gift of heart. What they meant was that I might not be the best writer in the world, or have the most profound things to say, but what I write and what I say are said straight from the heart. The words are always reflections of what Papa is doing in me.

When I look back at this year and the 100 pieces of my journey that have made it to this blog site, I am deeply thankful. I may have a really long way to go, but I am eternally going. There isn't a day that goes by where I am not wrestling with something. It is Him creating more of Himself in the mud and clay of my life.

Thank you Jesus - that despite my greatest attempts to grow, you still grow me. Thank you for the struggles and the revelations, for the friends that have encouraged me and the difficulties that have stretched me, and thank you that I will never walk this road alone. Thank you Papa for 100 pieces of my story - thank you that I get a part in writing it, and that together we create the future.

May 2009 take us to places I have never imagined and that you have already planned.

Needing each other

I was up on the roof today shoveling some of the 3 feet of snow off, or at least trying to. There was quite a bit of ice built up on the lower edge of the house, so I decided to try to kick it off. Dumb idea. As I kicked, it dislodged and I almost went off the roof. To save myself from a messy fall, I landed on my shoulder on the steel roof, barely keeping myself from going over. I managed to stay on the roof, but in doing so I also separated my shoulder. Of course, being the macho man that I am, I continued shoveling until I was in tears from pain, then I gingerly crawled down the ladder and took 76 ibuprofen.

I am finding that I can't do everything myself with a bum shoulder. As long as my tasks don't require reaching above my head I am pretty much fine. But other than the low zone, I am truly handicapped. It is humbling for a macho man to have to admit he needs others.

My bro John and I were talking about life as we met this morning. One of the things that happens in my relationship with John is that we help each other see our weak spots. I point out the things he doesn't see and he points out mine. It is one of those relationships that I deeply treasure - probably more than I let on sometimes. I hate to admit that I need someone else. But John tenderly shows me the blinds spots in my vision and reminds me that I am not so self sufficient. He really is a gift.

We really do need each other. I think that's why we are called to be in the body of Christ. Not only are we called to be in it, but we ARE the body of Christ. It is the needing each other that connects us. It is built into our design to need - first to need our Papa, and then His kids. Because alone, we really will fall off the edge.

I am deeply thankful that I can't do life alone, even when I want to.

In between times

Ever notice that there is a dead spot in the middle of the holidays? For me, it is this whole week. The time off for Christmas was good to spend with family and rest and relax. It was good to reconnect with old friends and boob out in front of a movie. But this year at least I find myself striving to get back in gear. It feels like too many days of space.

And I find myself feeling very unproductive. The old 'works' background kicks in as the default mode, and I feel useless hanging around the house. I am SOOOOO ready to sink my teeth into the new year.

I know the task at hand - I always believe there is a purpose in what is happening, even if we don't see it. But this time I see the task. My purpose is to worship God in the 'nothing to do', to learn to know my value in the midst of inactivity. It is a brief season to know Him apart from activity and production. I want to find value in relationship with THE RELATIONSHIP, and I guess this is a good time to do that.

So I learn to celebrate the moment, even if the moment isn't exactly the one I would choose. It is the one He has given me. It is a gift I don't want to miss.

Talkin till 3

Last night my son Trevor and I sat up till 3 am talking. I don't think I've done that since college. For an old fart, I don't feel too bad today. By the way, how long till nap time?

It was one of those 'contemplating your navel' kind of talks - good for a father and son to have. Just hanging out and talking and daring to venture closer in relationship, to talk about the good and the difficult stuff.

It was cool as I look back because I realize there were three of us there - me and Trev and our Papa. In some ways Trevor was just venturing closer to his dad - we don't get to hang much these days living 4 states away from each other. He asked about my life and my beliefs and had questions about relationships - but not as a boy talking to his dad as much as a young man talking to an old man. And both of us were learning to venture closer to our Papa.

By 3 am I had given him all the wisdom I had, and the world's problems had been solved. I realized he was going to be okay because he was God's, not mine. He is so much like I was at his age - gifted, confused, called, scared - a really good place to be. I don't mean by that that I want him to have to be stuck in all those emotions. What I mean is that when I look back on my life, I see that Papa walked with me every step of my journey. At each turn He has brought beauty out of the ashes of my life and redeemed all that I have foolishly squandered. He has been there - always, forever, eternally.

So I asked Trevor the question "What if you can't do this wrong?" (Translated, that question talks about the sovereignty of God). How would any of us live different if we knew we couldn't do it wrong? When I look back at my life, I realize that despite me and all my failures, God is still working in me, gifting me, leading me, and calling me. And I am still scared and confused and wonderfully loved.

It is the adventure of what it means to belong to Him. I have been on it for awhile now. Trevor is in the early stages of it. May Jesus become more real to that young, talented, gifted, growing young man than he has ever imagined.

Face plants for Jesus

I went snowboarding yesterday with my son Trevor. Let's just say it was deeply humbling. But I think I got points for trying. How many men do you see out there learning snowboarding in their late 40's? Of course my 40+ year old body can't hardly move today. Some of those muscles haven't been used for decades.

I managed to go all the way to the 12,000 foot summit and snowboard down. It only took 40 minutes and 16 falls to do so. There were points where I was afraid I'd be walking down, snowboard over my shoulder, but eventually I made it down, beard covered in snow and my ears bright red. (Nothing a nap in the truck couldn't fix!)

After lunch I relinquished my feeble attempt at being young, and got my skis on. Where before my son had to wait patiently for his dad to get up 36 times per run, now the old man was giving him a run for his money.

I have to admit - I like being expert. Put me on a pair of skis and I can make it down the slope without nose diving in a snow bank - at least looking like I know what I am doing. But as much as I like looking expert, it was revealing to try something new. What I mean by that is this - choosing to enter my son's world earned some respect. I could have matched him all day long on skis, but daring to face plant a few dozen times somehow elevated my status with him. The old man was willing to not be an expert, and enter the world of an 18 year old.

I am so thankful I didn't get hurt. And I am so thankful that we have a God who comes down to our level as well.

For He did not consider being equal with God as something to be hung on to, but emptied Himself and became like a man.....

Success and failure

My third son Trevor is coming to visit today, and staying for a week. It is weird to think he is on his own and doing well. There was a season where he needed a dad, but he is at the stage now where he is pretty self sufficient. He is the neatest kid. I wish I could take credit for who he has become, but is is all God's doing, probably in spite of me.

I know that last statement is treading into self deprecation. If Trevor were bumbling through life, in and out of jail, I would struggle with feeling totally responsible. It would be hard to not see his failure as my failure. But when he is successful, it is even harder to see his success as my success.

When God looks at us, do you suppose He ever feels like He messed up somewhere? I doubt it. The good He created us to be gets compromised by our stupid choices, but it doesn't affect His stance toward us. Our failure or success isn't about Him, it is about us. It is easy to see our sinning as 'about us', but when I imagine our successes being about us, I find I quickly want to assign the good to Him. But it doesn't make sense. Either He is responsible for both or He is responsible for neither.

So that means the good in us happens when we agree with Him and live like He wants us to, but it is to our credit. We reap the consequences of our choices, whether they get us good stuff or bad stuff.

I'm sure I must be really ticking some folks off who are doctrinal whiz kids. Just trying to make sense of it all is giving me a headache.

Leaving footprints

I am loving the snow here in Colorado. It is very different than the Midwest stuff we were used to. I had always seen pictures of beautiful fir trees covered in tons of snow, with picturesque winter at its best. But through my eyes, it looked like cold and yucky winter.

But snow has begun to take on new meaning for me. It is light and powdery here, and the day times are warm and sunny, and the snow really is something to be enjoyed. Those two words - snow and enjoyment - have rarely gone together in the same sentence.

But as I walk out my front door, they combine to create a new experience for me. As I plow my way through the knee deep powder, I find myself leaving unmistakable tracks in the soft remains of the latest storm. As I look back at the swath behind me, I ask myself one of those profound questions; What kind of footprint will I leave with my life? What will be the sum impact of how I live and the ways I influence others?

I find some clear parameters to the answer - I couldn't imagine impact being defined as making lots of money or building a big building, or starting a successful business or leaving lots of things for my descendants. I find a very clear answer inside that my impact properly defined would be leaving a big footprint on the lives of the people in my world. THAT'S what I want to do. I want the steps I take to make a difference that lasts for centuries in the lives I touch. When a person's grandkids get to share in the transformation in their lives because they were impacted by Mike, my life will have been significant.

I want to leave footprints behind that leave a well marked trail to the foot of the cross.

Does God satisfy?

God humbly reminded me today that He is still in charge, still knows my needs, and is still interested in where my life is going. Its funny how much my mood and energy change when there is hope. I know that faith is walked out in the 'not knowing and not having logical hope', but it gets thin sometimes. And I am a little embarrassed that I don't rest in trust more often.

This whole journey lately has led me to ask myself a couple very sobering questions; What if God did everything we wanted Him to do? How would that change us?

I wonder sometimes if we just get comfortable in the asking and fall into the rut of not really expecting Him to do anything - Like it is some rote activity to get done - ask God to do what we want Him to do. Rather than an attitude that says "Well, I did my part, now what's next?(because He won't answer anyway).

If He did all that we asked of Him, would it deeply satisfy? Would it be as huge an event as we pray for, or would it quickly pass and leave us wanting more? It brings new perspective to prayer, that's for sure.

The adventure continues

Walking with God continues to be an adventure as everyday I wake up to a mystery. I guess that sounds a little nobler than it really is. Mystery is what is left when you can't get answers. And lately the answers I have gotten from God still leave a lot of mystery. Maybe I am the problem - I want the big answers, and He keeps giving me the little ones, like what step to take next. It is nice knowing what the next step is, but it never answers the bigger questions. I want to know where the path is going, not what one thing to do next!

Sometimes I am completely blindsided by my own continuing insistence that life go like I want it to. It seems that God isn't going to let me out of this one. He is bound and determined to help me get set free from my foolish belief that He isn't in charge. Just when life makes a little sense, the rules change, the direction changes, or the clear message from Papa becomes clouded again.

Lately the struggle isn't in hearing His voice - it is in hearing and not liking the message. I keep asking where all this is going, and He keeps responding with 'Don't worry about that - I'm in charge - trust the next right step you are supposed to take and let me take care of the big stuff'. I can't quite get Him to see that I need to know the big stuff. (He doesn't seem real concerned about my demands to know).

I am hoping to get to the point where I can rest in the next right step and forget about my desire to know all the steps from here to the finish line. May He lead us all in that journey.

Know the snow

We woke up to a couple feet of snow this morning. And then we woke up three more times when we tried to sleep in because the phone kept ringing with people cancelling appointments. I don't know if I have ever seen this much snow at one time. I think it is pretty normal for Colorado, but this is our first winter here, so it is all new to us. I have the task of digging us out sometime today, and I have to admit that I am excited about it.

There is something magical about the snow. One of the things it does is take away options. There isn't school today for the kids, and no way to meet with the people I had appointments with today. Thankfully we still have power and water, and the wood burner is cranked up. But I am captive today at home, and loving it. The fire and a safe place to snuggle up with a book brings a deep sense of security.

Papa is someone to be celebrated on days like this. He is captive with me (not really) - He is here. He is celebrating the snow with me, enjoying the security of a fire and a safe place to be. Today I want to know Him more deeply.

I know this is really corny, but when there is this much snow, it reminds me that I want to know Him. Like a thick blanket of snow, I want to be covered in His presence and security.

4 AM rantings

I have been realizing that there are really two questions when it comes to facing the future. I guess I am like the next guy - I hope for answers to my questions and guidance in the journey. But like the next guy, I'm not sure how to get either.

I found myself praying tonight about what to do. 'Tell me what to do' has been a familiar prayer. But as I sat there and thought, another question came into my mind - 'Do I do?'

Maybe doing nothing is the simplest and hardest answer to hear. My question is "Am I hearing it?" Is God saying don't do anything, just trust me? And why are doing nothing and trusting always put in the same thought? I want to do. I want to make the quandary of life go away. I want answers and clear guidance and a clear path to walk. The truth is I teach about the mystery of walking with God, but I really covet answers in the mystery. I'd rather talk about it than have to live it.

What a convenient way of excluding God from the process and path of my life.

God in a blue box

I am worked up today because I went to a church building to be with other believers. It got me thinking about a very simple question; "What if God were really love?" Not love as we interpret it, not love as defined in some religious system that has all the pieces fit together, and not love seen through a lens of punishment for sin. Just love. What if God were nothing but, nothing else, nothing held back, and nothing mixed with caveats, but He were just love? What if we just believed that one descriptor of God - as love. Damn the theology and the religious systems that try to make sense of the mystery. What if we just accepted that God is love? And what if that was all we believed?

Every denomination has its system of theology that packs 'relationship with God' into its own little box that makes what they believe neat and tidy and understandable. And every system has its own little slant. One box is blue, another aqua, another sky blue, another sea blue, another midnight blue, and another ocean blue (because it is soooo different than sea blue!) And every denomination thinks it has the right system, the end all to rightness. When will we wake up and admit our own stupidity?

I choose to believe God is love. I don't pretend to understand that. I believe that He is knowable and unknowable, all at the same time. But in my understanding, I choose to try at least to keep God as boxless as possible. So I guess that makes me just like everybody else - thinking I have the right belief system.

God forgive me!

Fighting the Christmas greed monster

We have two vehicles that we own as a family, and between the two we have over 400,000 miles on them. Needless to say, neither one is very nice. Lights don't always work, there are thumps and rattles galore, and things like heat and air conditioning are tentative. But since we don't have to do a lot of driving for our work, having two old beaters works just fine. It keeps things simple - no car payments, low insurance, and the adventure of never knowing when you might break down. Could it get any better than that?

I have to confess that I sometimes lust over getting a new car or truck. There are so many luxuries out there - some I haven't even heard about yet. But I think I might just keep it that way. If I don't know about them, I won't want them. So I don't let myself go peruse car lots or check in the paper for ads. I know if I did, I would begin to see that my vehicles are sub-par, and some salesman would try to convince me that I deserved better.

I like having nothing. It keeps my greed monster in check. Because I know how huge he can get, and I know how powerful he can be in reminding me that I won't be happy until I have what I deserve. It keeps me focused on what I do deserve - nothing. It keeps me humbly reminded of the simple fact that everything is a gift.

At Christmas time this year, don't forget what matters.

The measure of a man

I love the spam folder in my email. Every once in awhile I open it just to see the ridiculous things people try to hook me in with. Evidently there are a whole bunch of people out there that think my life would be better if I had more money, if had a supply of Viagra, and if my 'member' were bigger (hope I didn't offend anybody there). Its just that someone (many someones actually) assume that because I am male, I have certain needs. That is the only qualifier they have on me. They assume my typical maleness.

It scares me that 'maleness' has gotten down to the genitalia that makes us male. Isn't there a whole bunch more about being a man than that? Or are there really guys out there that buy into this junk? I think something has gotten pretty lost about our culture if that's what it means to be a man.

So let me throw out another perspective. Maybe the 'measure' (couldn't resist the pun) of a man is the ability to live for others, live with an authenticity that comes from Jesus within him, and from the guts to stand up against a profane culture that defines maleness in stupid ways.

I see Jesus being the perfect man, and when I die, I want to look as much like Him as I possibly can. I want to profoundly impact people for Him. I want to be so present, so focused, so acutely aware of the Father in me that to encounter me is to encounter Him. THAT'S what it means to be a man. And you don't need 'length' or Viagra or lots of money to do that!

Uncage the lion

I have been out talking to people in the church lately. That means that they understand Christianity from a standard, contemporary mindset. One guy I was talking to saw a relationship with God as praying lots, going to church, tithing, and reading his Bible. I asked him if there might be a way to be more creative, but it was obvious that he could only describe a relationship with God as he understood it.

If I go to a zoo, I might see a lion. The lion isn't really much of a lion - he doesn't hunt because his food is thrown in front of him. He might mate when the zookeeper puts a female in the cage with him. But whatever understanding you might get about what a lion is and does is pretty small if you only experience the lion in the zoo. It really isn't a very good or accurate picture of a lion.

Imagine the lion got out, and was in your back yard. Suddenly the definition of a lion becomes very different. You run for your life, you get a gun, you are literally in danger for your very existence. That's a real lion. That is what a lion is supposed to be - running wild (okay, lets make it Africa and not your back yard). That lion is a whole different animal when it is in its natural habitat doing what it was created to do. Seeing it in a zoo is only to see the shell of what a lion looks like - its appearance only - with no substance.

That's what my friend saw - God behind bars, God packaged into easy to follow instructions. And he wouldn't hear of letting God out of that box.

If He really is good, why are we so afraid of Him? If we could let ourselves learn to experience God without all the props, how much more real might He become?

I love the C.S. Lewis quote from one of the books in the Narnia Chronicles, where someone asks if Aslan the lion (a figure of Jesus) is a safe lion. The person answering says something like "No, he isn't safe, but he is good!"

Running scared

Lately the adventure with God has been leading me to journey out on some pretty thin ice financially. It has been scary, and yet there has been an assuredness that the path was the right one. I knew it was what I was supposed to do, even if it didn't make sense. It isn't the first time that we have followed the Lord out here. It's just that this is the current adventure, and it feels pretty visceral right now.

I realized today that faithfully following Him doesn't imply that something good will come of that following. I have been seeing that that kind of thinking is still residue of the religious thinking that I suffered under for years. I believed that God would always give me bigger and better things - that He was my eternal Santa Clause, just waiting to bless me with presents. Now I am seeing that following Him, even out onto thin ice, is the right way to walk - even if it gets me nothing. There may or may not be a 'reward' or positive outcome from venturing out here. He is still worthy of following - without the pseudo promises and guarantees that religion sells us.

So I am out here, the ice cracking beneath my feet, and yet I know that if I plunge into the freezing water, it is because I was willing to go where I thought Papa was leading. And I will know that if the ice breaks, it was His will for me to get wet. And I want to get to the place where I can trust that if I nearly freeze to death in that frigid water, it will be because He loves me profoundly. But I have to confess, I'm not quite there yet.

Slogging in the mud

I got the privilege of working outside today in the snow and the mud and the wet and the cold. It reminded me why I hate construction work. I suppose the Apostle Paul felt the same way about tent making - not his love, but what he had to do sometimes. Building a deck today was what I had to do.

There is a test of our personhood when we have to do what we don't want to do that tells what kind of person you are. It is a test of character and integrity. I realized today that slopping around in the mud and snow, soaking wet and cold is a good job for everyone to have to do now and then. It is just plain humbling.

I wonder if we would have a whole bunch less corporate bail outs if the boneheads on the top of those organizations could get out and do some manual labor in the mud and snow. It would teach them just how big they really are.

So this evening I am feeling pretty humbled by my day. I guess it is good to be reminded that I am not so very important in the world. Or at least not as important as I think I am sometimes.

Worrying for Jesus

Lets see, what is on my heart today? Life is good. I am somewhat overwhelmed with how good it is. I know deeply that I don't deserve whatever goodness God has given me. But do any of us?

I find that money is always tight, and God is always good - meaning that we haven't skipped a meal yet, haven't had to do without anything we really need, and haven't slept out on the ground without it being a backpacking trip yet. So the only thing that is really wrong is my tendency to worry (a lot of good that does). Somewhere inside is still the lie that I can control things if I just give it enough fretting. If you take that away, everything is just as it should be.

So what would it take to stop the worry? Maybe nothing more than a choice to admit I am not so powerful that I am going to accomplish anything by my worry anyway. Doesn't really seem like that much of a shift, does it?

Living famous

We watched a movie last night about a guy who became famous (I had never heard of him). As Laura and I watched the path of his life, I found myself wondering why he didn't excel even more. Then it dawned on me that he didn't know he was going to be famous. It just happened that he impacted people in powerful ways.

One of my hero's is Abraham Lincoln. But as I thought about it, old Abe didn't split rails for a living each day thinking "I am going to be famous, so I had better make every decision toward that end." When he was a lawyer, he was a lawyer, not a president to be. He didn't know he was going to be famous.

I wonder how differently we would live our lives if we knew we were going to be famous. I think there were a lot of things I would do different. There are several really, REALLY stupid things I think I would have elected to not do. When I look back, I realize I would have lived differently.

So what keeps us from living as if we are going to be famous? Who knows but that someday someone is going to be reading Mike Ege's blog and think to themselves "He wasn't even famous yet when he wrote this".

Live like you are going to be famous - everyday.

Tumbleweeds

We were driving across the plains of Nebraska last week. Let me say that it just doesn't get any better than Nebraska. No mountains, not many trees, not much to write home about, and a great state to not live in. Sorry if that offends the folks who read my blog who happen to be stuck in Nebraska. You have that great arch across I-80 in Kearny, what more could you ask for?

But there is one thing that Nebraska has that is cool - maybe only one. That is tumbleweeds. When we came through the other day, the wind was cruising along at like 40 mile an hour, and the tumbleweeds were out for a hay day. There were times when there must have been 50 or more immediately in front of us. At first I tried dodging them, which the kids thought was great as the car swerved left and right at 80 mph. But there were so many of them, all in a hurry to get somewhere else that I finally relaxed and just ran them over, which, when coupled with crash sound effects from the driver's seat gave the boys even more to laugh about.

I admit I was tired and bored driving across Nebraska, but as I stared at tumbleweeds rushing across my path I thought of contemporary Christianity. The tumbleweeds obviously thought that there was someplace else that might be better for them to go, so they rushed across the 4 lanes of traffic to get there. It reminded me of the machinery of Christianity that has often become a contest between churches to attract the most people. It was quite a few years ago when it became popular to have coffee bars and free childcare (for a donation of course) so people could come fellowship together. I have heard now that some churches have work out equipment, movie screening rooms, 24 hour hot lines if a believer needs to call in and hear inspirational music, and popular ring tones that you can download so when someone calls you, the music could be a witness - maybe someone will repent because they heard Casting Crowns on your phone.

And like tumbleweeds, Christians seeking the latest and the bestest go running to the box in town with the best show.

I don't want to get into a bunch of judgment about the state of Christianity. All I want to ask is the simple question - "Is this what Jesus had in mind when He died?"

Celebrating Unclebobs

I have an uncle named Bob. Actually I have never known him as Bob. It was always one word - Unclebob. He is my favorite uncle, and he is turning 90 next year. He has always been there in my life, and although we haven't really had a lot of heart to heart talks, he is the guy I could do that with. When I was younger, he was a gold mine - not because he was imbued with such wisdom as much as he was NOT my parents. A hundred years ago, families were larger. Gramma and Grandpa lived with the family or near the family. Aunts and uncles were intimate family, not distant relatives. And it was the 'extra family' that brought sanity to the family.

Extra family, the Unclebobs in the world, were the people who could speak a fresh perspective into a situation. The Unclebobs could say the same things parents were saying, but because it was an Unclebob and not a parent speaking the words, a young person could hear them.

We need some people who are willing to be Unclebobs for people struggling to find their way in life - and I don't mean for just the young folks. All of us need an Unclebob who can help us see more clearly.

So my challenge is simple to any reader trying to find his or her way in life; be an Unclebob, or get an Unclebob. There really aren't any other options. Be an impacter of other's lives, or get someone to impact your life so you can become an influencer in the world.

Real customer service

We just got back from 11 days gone to see relatives in the Midwest. As typical with family, there were some great highs and lows. We got back last night with the pervasive sense that it was good to be FROM the Midwest - we are thankful we don't live there. We really missed the mountains.

One of the highlights of the trip was a visit to the fish market. My dad and his wife live near the Mississippi river, and there is this place in Fulton Illinois called Schaffers Fish Market that we have gone to for 126 years, or since I was a kid, which ever is farther back. My brother and I disagreed about whether it was our mom or our grandmother who took us when we were kids, but we both had memories of buying big old slabs of smoked fish and inhaling it all the way home. So to follow family tradition, we took the kids down to the fish place while we were back there.

And I must say that Schaffer's fish market was one of the highest points of my trip. The lady at the counter went way over backwards to let us sample every smoked fish they had. She even pulled a bag of Doritos off the shelf because she insisted that one of the types of fish was heavenly when eaten off a Doritos chip, so she just gave us a bag. We never did eat any lunch that day - we were too full on fish. We ended up buying $8 worth of fish after sampling $20 worth. But she was thrilled to have given us a good experience at the fish market. She kept saying that if you treat people like family, they'll come back. We didn't tell her we were from out of state, but I will be honest - if I get back to the area I'll be visiting Schaffer's again. It was what customer service is supposed to be all about.

I wonder when we decided that customer service was optional? The opposite of the Shaffer's experience was a Wendy's experience. I ordered off the picture menu where they displayed a huge, luscious burger. When it arrived, it was 3/4 of an inch thick - not the meat, the whole stupid sandwich. It was undercooked and made me nauseous immediately. I thought they gave me the wrong thing at first, but it was supposedly the same product as the one in the picture. I was so bothered I almost complained to the manager, but I knew it would be a fruitless proposition.

True customer service means treating the person buying your product with respect and value. I would have bought a smoked shoe from the fish market because of their customer service. And I'll never go back to Wendy's.

As Christians, I wonder why we don't treat the people in our world with the kind of self sacrifice and respect I found at Schaffer's. Shouldn't that be the call on our lives? But instead we offer a form of religion that mandates a certain level of performance and self righteous living that is flat and lifeless. We don't really go out and be salt and light much in the world. We want them to come to us, and in doing so, we have expectations that they look and act and smell and believe in certain ways that are popular.

Real customer service is about the customer, not about us. And so is authentic Christianity.

Ruff Roof

For the last few days I have been helping a friend roof his house. Each night I come home completely wiped out, sore in every part of my being. I would like to say it is worth it, but the truth is it is way too much like work - way too much.

I'll be honest - I am way too tired to really blog about much tonight. It has me pretty stretched to just stay awake.

Roofing is one of those reminders of how un-powerful we are. Every time I get up there I get my butt kicked. I realize that I am not so big, that I am not the next best thing to sliced bread, and I have some limits to what I can do - limits that I thought didn't exist 20 years ago when I got on a roof. Back then I thought, like every 20 year old, that I was invincible, that I was bullet proof, and that I could do the work of 6 people. Today I feel like I got beaten up by 6 people. Seeing myself clearly is a humbling experience.

Not being superman anymore makes me have to trust God a lot more than I used to - for my health, for my ability to provide for my family, for the courage to hang off an eave 20 feet in the air. Suddenly I find myself not so self sufficient - forced to live in Papa's provision and love.

I am learning that the roof is rough work, and that Papa is far more trustworthy than I have ever known.

Voting for McBama

This will be my first and last post ever talking about politics. I absolutely hate the whole system, but this year it invaded my home too many times. For the last 3 weeks we got at least one call a night from the McCain campaign telling us how bad Obama was. Every call slanderous and negative, not telling me much about McCain, but just ripping on Obama.

I think this past summer I was intending to vote for McCain. And if it wouldn't have been for the calls, I probably still would have. But after so many harassing calls and fliers in the mail, I would have voted for Bill Clinton (heaven forbid) rather than anyone who uses tactics like McCain did. It made me sick.

If any candidate builds a campaign on slander, gossip, and bashing someone else, they will steer my vote to anybody else. What was worse in all this is that there was a toll free number to call at the end of the messages. I called two different ones to have my number removed. When they continued calling I left messages inviting them to talk to me about why they had lost my vote, but obviously no one called.

What happened to the simple concept of integrity? You bad mouth others and it will ALWAYS come back on you. McCain dug his own grave. I voted for Snoopy.

Returning the Jesus

My bride woke up pretty sick last night. It is always hard to see a loved one not doing well. As I go about my day, it is like half being here. We are together all day, every day, and you'd think we would get tired of each other, but it doesn't happen much. It is still early, and I miss her sitting next to me in the office and typing away on her computer.

As I sit here, I realize she has become for me the body of Christ. Her presence, her encouragement, her listening ear, and her laughter all bring life into my day. In more ways than one she literally is Jesus to me.

It strikes me that ultimately I am missing Jesus in her. And it also strikes me that that is the way it should be in the body of Christ - that we encounter Jesus when we meet, and that we are longing for more of Him when we are apart.

I know that I let the dysfunction of people get in the way of the Jesus in people. I want to be the kind of person that draws the Jesus out of even the most unlovely of folks. I want to call them to their best, not illicit their worst. Maybe I could go even one step farther and actually expect Jesus in them, not like a standard that they should meet, but as a belief in them that is better than their own belief about themselves. And maybe in doing so, I can return the Jesus.

Hangin with the neighbor

I have this neighbor. He really is a remarkable guy. He will do anything to help us out. If we need something, he'll lend it, pick it up at the store, tell you where to get it cheap, or make one for you. He's just that kind of neighbor. And his wife is even worse. She tells me today they need a favor - she is making sweet potato/pecan pie and she's afraid there will be to much for the two of them to eat alone, so she says we could help her by eating it with them. I know - tough job, but someone has to do it. It will be quite the act of service, but we'll manage. Maybe they have some ice cream they are having trouble with too......

I don't know exactly what it means to love your neighbor. I know as Christians we are supposed to do it. And truth be told, Les and Nancy are better at it than any Christian who ever lived. And they aren't Christians. What does that say about the rest of us? Do we really have an excuse? All I know is that when I am around them I am humbled by their selfless acts of love. More than their acts is their attitudes. They are never inconvenienced to help out. They never say no when you need a hand. They would literally give you the shirt off their back. I know that phrase is way over used, but these folks really would do it.

Maybe its time for us followers of Jesus to live like we are following. Maybe we need to be the neighbors loving better than other folks - not because we are Christians, and that is what Christians are supposed to do, but because we are God's kids in love with His creation.

Lonliness and Connection - being the Body

There have been two topics making themselves known frequently in my life. They are both in an area of growth that I see necessary in the body of Christ. The first is loneliness. It's funny (not really very funny) how many people will share that at the very core of their being they feel profoundly lonely. They don't sense anyone in their corner, or any person that really sits with them there. The other area that I see needing attention is the opposite of that - connection. People are deeply longing for real and authentic connection with another human being. On one side connection, on the other a deep loss of connection.

I wonder why it is that we are supposed to be a family, and yet we are so divided. Maybe the answer is in the question - that we are not good at being family because we are so divided. I have to be honest - I am really tired of that. There is no excuse in the whole world for the state of the church. We have misdefined it as a place to go. We have misdefined it as an event to do. We have created a monster from what Jesus left us. I am ashamed by what we have become.

And yet there is always that remnant of hope. There are always a few who haven't gotten caught up in the machinery and the entertainment, and really love Jesus. There are some who don't really get distracted by the bright, shiny objects that contemporary Christianity dangles out there, but who passionately and simply just want to walk in relationship with God. Now how do we bridge the gap? How do people who are lonely find the people who are connecting?

I am thinking that it needs to be the other way around - that those in connection need to look for the lonely and be their friend. I think maybe we ought to bag stewardship campaigns and mission campaigns and offering for the food pantry, and just do this one thing. I think that if people were to get in and get their hands dirty serving and connecting with another human being - and that's all we did - we wouldn't have need of all those other things.

What could you do today to connect with another human? What simple step could you enter into that might make the real body of Christ happen? How could you be Jesus today?

Double Drivin

The last couple days I have been driving to Denver and back. Actually, I have been driving to Denver and back two different times. It is a little over 5 hours one way, so that means I will have been on the road almost 22 hours when I get back home. With that much time on my hands, it has been interesting to find things to keep myself occupied. Of course with the massive brain power I wield, a Red Bull and a cigar serve to entertain me for hours.

Actually, it has been good being on the road. It has given me space to move into something new with Papa. I found myself entering territory previously unventured into, and liking the larger size of the space I was discovering. Being captive in a car with only Him forced me in some ways to draw close. It has been good.

I suppose I should have some big revelations having been cooped up with God for that long. But as I walk this journey I find that God isn't really about the big events as much as He is about the journey - the walking together through whatever comes down the tube. These last couple days we have traveled into some places I hadn't anticipated - imagine that! I see Him leading me into resurrecting some dreams that I thought had gotten lost in the tidal wave that consumed me a few years back. But He is bringing them back to light, and holding them before me, and I find myself deeply humbled and greatly hopeful again. It is good to be alive.

It strikes me that it is just like Papa to turn this great adventure in ways I didn't see coming. He is so very creative. And He is showing me for the hundredth time that He is still writing the story of my life. I think back to all the fatalistic views I have held of life and the hopelessness that has so many times overwhelmed me, and I see myself with such little faith. But I am convinced that He doesn't really care about my faith. It doesn't keep Him from being everything He wants to be in my life. I feel like a paint brush (okay, one without many bristles on his top side) that is being used to paint a picture that I can't see yet - one that is more beautiful than I could ever imagine. And it's a painting with His thumb prints all over it. I'm so glad Papa is a messy painter, and people can see His marks all over the picture.

Praise be to the God who is, who was, and who ever will be!

Starting fires

My favorite theme verse for years has been the St. Irenaeus quote "The Glory of God is a man fully alive". I still love it. I hunger more deeply than anything else to help ignite an unquenchable fire in the hearts of the people I work with. Christianity is way too full of boring Christians who obey the rules, but do little to start fires.

Everything that matters is stored in our hearts. It is the center of the fire that burns inside, and it is from that heart that we learn to live authentically and passionately. It never surprises me when people talk about their struggles. I think struggles become a clever distraction from really living the adventure of faith. We struggle with sin or self or purpose rather than stepping boldly into the future taking a necessarily tight hold of Papa's hand, daring to trust that He IS, that He leads, and that we are not powerful enough to completely screw our lives up if we are walking with Him.

For many years I guess I bought into the whole 'Its about living a righteous life' thing. Now I find myself irresistibly drawn to starting fires - igniting the tinder of all that I believe God calls us to be. I don't think living righteous is ever an appropriate goal. Jesus needs to be our goal - knowing Him , walking with Him, daring to trust Him, learning to know His voice and His leading. If we focus on Jesus, righteous living follows. But it doesn't work the other way around. Pursuing being righteous doesn't get us Jesus. The fire has to be about Him, not us.

I love a quote from Ray Bradbury's book Fahrenheit 451. I will modify it here to make a point.
"I hate a Roman named Status Quo. Stuff your eyes with the wonder of Jesus, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world, walk with Jesus every step in that adventure. The journey is more fantastic than all the good works could ever buy. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that - shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass."

We need to live our faith that way - radical and ready to go wherever He might take us, more interested in being alive than we are in being right or secure or accepted. We need to light a fire that ignites others to the way of Jesus. We need to live unquenchable lives that seek Jesus at all costs, even if that cost is making mistakes or being wrong or being totally consumed in the process. There is simply no excuse for boring Christianity!

The Sin of Judgment

When I boil the gospel down to the bare bones of what it means to be a Christian, it comes down to one thing - love. God is love, and we are called to love. There, that should be simple enough. The fact that we suck at doing it is another simple fact. I ask folks what the opposite of love is, and most say it is hate. The direct opposite of loving my neighbor is hating my neighbor. I guess that is pretty simple to. But I think it is off. There might be a few situations where I might hate someone, but it isn't where I struggle. And generally it isn't where I see the people in my world struggling either. I think that the opposite of love is judgment. It is far worse than hating.

At a deeper level, I find that the place we are the most judgmental is towards ourselves. Many Christians have an attitude that being transformed into the image of Christ means that we have to change all of who we are into all of who He is. I wonder sometimes if we might get farther by focusing on just loving ourselves rather than trying to change ourselves. If I remember right, the great command has at it's very root, the foundation of loving ourselves. If I love myself, then I can love my neighbor. If I can love my neighbor, then I love God. I have heard many preachers teach the opposite of this - that there is something very wrong with loving ourselves. They teach that we are wicked and deceitful and capable of nothing good. I believe the opposite - that we are bought with a price and have a new heart in Christ, and that there is profound good in us. Too much wrong teaching has many of us convinced that if we are ever to be loved by God, we had better stop being us and become someone very different.

I am really tired of the sin of judgment. If there were one thing in the body of Christ I would eliminate, it would be that. It is bad enough that we tend to judge each other. But it is a wholly different thing when we do it to ourselves. We decide that something about ourselves is wrong or unlovely or damnable is some way. Rather than being Jesus to ourselves, we critique and condemn and reject (just like Jesus did, right?). When Jesus said that the same measure we use to measure to others will be used to measure us, I think this was what He was talking about. We judge others because we judge ourselves. Psychologists have known this for years - why is the body of Christ so far behind? Love your neighbor as yourself. This ain't rocket science here.

I'd like to talk about a different way. What if we were to believe that we belong to God and that He is working in us? I we could buy that, we could next buy into the thought that His working in us can be trusted - we could begin to trust that every movement inside is somehow affected by the Spirit of God living there. That doesn't mean that we wouldn't make mistakes - it would mean that we could trust His working in us, despite the mistakes. I mean, let's be honest - either the Spirit of God is in us as believers, or He isn't. If He is, then we can know Him and trust Him and rest in the fact that He is alive in there.

If we could really trust that He is working, then our journey would be about learning to trust Him rather than trying to fix us. It could become about Him, and not about us. What a novel idea.

Splitting Firewood

My friends Mark and Carol have been visiting us this last week. They have both been such a blessing to have visit. Mark made the foolish statement that he wanted to help out around the place. Its been like having my own personal slave having a guy friend around. We split firewood that was left on the property when we moved in. It was such fun that we drove the big, ugly 4x4 truck up into the national forest, plunging through ruts deeper than my kid's heads, knocking over bushes and sinking deep into mud puddles the size of lake Michigan, to get to some standing dead trees. It was quite an adventure.

We finally found an 80 ft. ponderosa pine that had 'Cut me down' written all over it. I fired up the chainsaw and began cutting. After a few minutes we both ran cowering far away as it came crashing down. So to answer the age old question 'If a tree falls in the forest, is it still the male gender's fault?' the answer is 'yes!'

We took turns cutting the monster up into pieces neither one of us could carry, which forced us to have to work together - a deeply humbling prospect for guys. Truth be told, when we walked out of the woods, several miracles happened. Mark was ten years younger and his hair wasn't white any more, and I had rippling muscles and all my hair back. Something about working a chainsaw that long can really do wonders for the male ego. We actually stood taller, even if only in our own minds.

I realized the next morning two very important things - the first was the sudden, embarrassing realization that I'm not 25 any more, (translated that means I hurt like hell the next day), and secondly, there is something deeply fulfilling about doing some hard physical labor with a good friend. I hate to admit it, but Mark is almost ten years older than I am, and he kicked my butt out there in the lumberjack world. When we got home, he wanted to split it all. I took the initiative to have him evaluated for mental illness.

I often think about Jesus the Messiah, or Jesus the healer, or Jesus the Lord. But it doesn't cross my mind much that Jesus was a carpenter far more years than He was a savior. He knew hard work. He knew lifting timbers and carving wood. He knew sweat on his brow and deep grit embedded in his hands. Interesting to note that the very tools of His trade for thirty years also became the instruments that were used to kill him.

I am thankful that the 80 ft. ponderosa didn't kill us. And I am ever grateful to have a Lord who understands hard work and has walked every step of this life before me. And I am especially blessed to get to hang in the words with a good friend and a really great savior.

Frost in the Morning

It has been frosting lately. This being our first year in Colorado has left us not knowing what the seasons would be like. For the last week we have been scraping frost off the windshield of the car. We find ourselves waking up to darkness and frost and cold and quickly questioning the choice to move here. I'm not sure what we expected. Frost happens almost everywhere. But it still takes me by surprise - I guess I thought it would always be sunny and 70 degrees. The thing that is different about the weather here is a profound concept that I am trying to get used to. It won't sound like much when I write it, but here it goes - the weather changes.

In Colorado, the temperature can fluctuate as much as 60 degrees in a given day. This morning is was in the high 20's. This afternoon it could be in the 80's. The day before yesterday it was rainy and snowing in the mountains, with sleet and hail. Yesterday is was beautiful and sunny and warm and the snow was melting off. You never know what to expect. But living in an area that has 300+ days of sunshine leaves a pretty good chance that you'll see the warm glow of yellow stuff sooner or later.

I have a point to all this, and it isn't to just talk about the weather. I find that life can be a little like the weather in Colorado. When we encounter a cold, frosty, dark morning, it sure feels like it will never be 70 and sunny. I remind myself every morning that it will be warm later, but the same thinking happens every time. I find that most of us think like that as we follow God. When things are cold and frosty and dark, we lose sight of the sunshine to come. We buy into the lie that life will always be like this. Yet the reality couldn't be farther from that. The reality, the truth, is that God is all about growing and changing. That is the very reason He came to earth - to help us grow into His likeness. He doesn't even think about us staying the same. He is about life!

So I guess we need to remind ourselves that the cold and dark in life won't last. And when the sunshine comes, we can rejoice in a deep appreciation of it because it is set in the backdrop of dark and cold. It is the contradiction that makes it beautiful. It is the dark and cold that accentuates the sunshine and warmth.

How often have we wanted to trade in the murky days for the sunny ones? Yet something profoundly important would be lost - appreciation and perspective. Out of the darkness, God created light. What a contrast. Out of mud He created man. What a contrast. And out of the mess that we make of our own lives, Papa makes more beauty than we could ever have imagined.

Making Bread

Last summer we took the leap and bought a new machine for our family. I guess for most people that would be referring to a new car or something. For us, it was the faith walk into the purchase of a bread machine. It was almost $4 for this thing! We aren't really the 'fancy machine' kinda people, but I have to admit I bought a $3 juicer as well last summer. Whoever invented garage sales will always be my hero.

I have never seen making bread as a manly job. Sorry to genderize it. When I think about making bread, images of a fat gramma lady working the dough come up. I see her with a bandanna around her head holder her hair back and her wearing an apron, with flour dust all over her. She looks like aunt Jemima from the syrup bottle. Okay, okay, so I admit I am little weird. My point is that when I think of making bread, I usually don't think of a middle aged, balding man in the mountains of Colorado doing it.

But the last few days I've been trying to make a loaf or two every day - we eat a lot of bread. Sometimes they turn out really good. Other times the cat runs out of the kitchen really fast and hides under the bed. He's a weird cat. More often than not, the family appreciates what I make, and even when it is a little sub-par, they eat it happily. It's a weird family.

It's funny that the term 'making bread' is also used to describe the process of going to work and bringing home a pay check. That kind of making bread is easier for me to see a man doing. Sorry to genderize the situation again. That's my intention or my point. My point is this; making bread in either fashion, is a part of necessity on earth. Part of our purpose during this life is to provide for ourselves by making bread or making bread. Some think that if they go make bread, they are thwarting God's plans for their lives. Some think that if they make bread, they are doing all that God created them to do. Others launch out into the world and never think about what God might want, and wonder why their making bread isn't cutting it. It is also funny that Jesus quoted the verse to Satan that man cannot live by bread alone. I wonder what He meant.

Here's the 'Mike' version. If all our lives are about what we do and what we accomplish and about how much we get - the amount of bread we make- we are really missing the point of life. If bread is all we have, we can't live. That means my work, my possessions, my amassed wealth will never provide life for me. I guess that means the new bread machine isn't going to ultimately make much truly satisfying bread. Bummer - $4 wasted!

The other thing that the Mike version thinks is that bread ain't gonna cut it because we were made for more than bread. What I mean is that we will never be truly satisfied with the things that are here, that are now. The ache inside is for Someone far more important - namely, the Bread of Life. It is the Divine plan that we hunger for bread. But the hunger is designed to lead us to Him, not to a collection of 'things'. Its a dichotomy (I know, its a fancy word that I don't understand either). I think that means that it is both (and completely neither) at the same time.
The dichotomy is that we must make bread to live, AND that bread will never satisfy because we were made for more than bread.

All I know is that today there is the smell of baking delight wafting from the kitchen, and the cat isn't running away, so there is a good chance we might have a good batch. And I guess I also know that the Bread of Life is also wafting all around me. I know that if I miss The Bread because of the bread, I will also miss the very reason I was created. After all, doesn't it say that as often as I eat of The Bread, I eat of Life?

So today, and tomorrow, and the next day I pray that I be given my daily bread in extra slices.

Writing Life

I realized today that I tend to write better when I am blogging - when you put a blank piece of paper in front of me, I don't know what to say. It's like I know that writing on my blog might actually get read by someone. It makes me put on my best (I know, it's hard to believe this is my best). I find myself writing BECAUSE someone is reading.

I guess thinking that someone might read this (thank you to the two people who do regularly) makes me think harder. It holds me accountable to actually making some sense. I notice that there is something at stake when I write and think there might be somebody reading. Somehow the writing matters more if there is an audience.

There is such an obvious translation to real life here. Imagine if we lived our lives like I write - adjusting what you say and how you say it just a little, kinda out of respect for the person who might be reading - because they matter to you.

So here is the closest to profound I am going to get in this blog. I actually made it up myself, so please be at least a little impressed;

"Write your life as if someone was reading it"

Maybe this whole thing is a game in my head and I am the only one that reads my blogs. Even if that is so, I know God reads. I know that He reads and watches and loves what I do. He doesn't really care about the misspellings in my life, or the dangling sentences. He doesn't care when I begin a sentence with a forbidden 'and' or 'but'. He just delights in my being His kid. Its like the thousands of pictures of trucks and airplanes that the boys draw for Laura and me. There is always a new one on the fridge - and it doesn't really matter if it is any good or not. They are our kids. That's all that matters.

So write the story of your life as if the whole world would see, and when they see, may it be Jesus that shines through your life.

Adventure

I don't belief life has to be boring. But most people I talk to think it does. They tell me "I have to do a bunch of things that I don't want to do - how can I be anything but bored?" I guess I believe that there is always a choice about whether I want to live life as an adventure, or as a long death march.

Lately I find myself really into meeting people. I will start up conversations with the waitress, the guy out parking cars, the kid bagging my groceries, the telemarketer calling at 8:00 at night (Ok, I don't really talk to telemarketers, but I admit I like hanging up on them). I have been exploring just what potential I have to connect with people. I have always known I have this knack of being able to talk to folks, but it crossed my mind the other day that I could choose to be intentional about it and find out just how much influence I could have in the world. The experiment has been uncanny.

I am discovering that there are two truths surfacing in this adventure. The first is that if I am authentically interested in a person, they really want to be known most of the time. People love to have someone actually want to know them. And people will tell me the most intimate stuff when I just take the time to actually (and honestly) want to know them. It is the coolest thing.



The second thing I am discovering is that I was designed to do this. What I mean by that is there seems to be some innate thing inside of me that was intended to care for and about people, to connect with them, and to lift them up. I absolutley love drawing the good out of people, confronting or ignoring their tendancy to focus on the things that need to change in their lives, and instead noticing the gifts there. I find so many people who act like no one has ever noticed their gifts. I think most of them bought an untruth about themselves years back, and are still operating out of something they think is true that never was.



As I write, we are staying at a high end hotel. There is a young guy out front who is supposed to greet people and meet whatever needs they might have. But behind the podium where he sits is a football. And every once in awhile you can just tell he is dieing to throw the thing - to play catch with somebody in the middle of downtown Denver. So as I passed him last night, I said, in mock stadium announcer fashion "He's goin long...." as I started running down the sidewalk. He grinning and tossed the ball in perfect spiral. I caught it and scored a touchdown with 3 second remaining, then tossed it back. He grinned from ear to ear.



The adventure in life lately for me has been entering in with people, being light, making people grin. It is like touching light bulbs and having them instantly turn on. It is like gathering around a warm, glowing fire with some friends, with no hurry to get on to something else. It genuinely is a great adventure, and one I am glad to be on.

Honesty

Honestly, and I sit down to write, I don't know what I want to write about honesty. I suppose that is a good place to start - being honest. It seems to be one of those character traits that gets undefined. I think it is a little like integrity, a little like authenticity, probably somehow related to vulnerability, and in the same ball park as truth. Maybe it is a way of living out being truthful.

I do know a couple things about honesty, amidst all that I don't know. I know that is rare. I know that the opposite is lying, and that it begins first with doing it with ourselves. I know that being honest is really hard, because it means we share the real thing with another person, and doing that means we have to trust them. I know that it is a very naked feeling, one where I risk judgment and critique and condemnation as I share the truth. I also know that it is because of judgment and critique and condemnation that we lie. It makes we wonder which is worse.

Choosing to be honest is an everyday choice. It is ultimately an act of surrender before God, trusting, choosing to believe His take on who you are above what others might think. It is learning to rest in Him rather than listen to the crowds. Our society and culture seem to propagate lying. Its just a lot easier.

I don't know if I can define honesty, but I can share an example. I am not into sports. I played every sport there was when I was young. I was actually really good at almost all of them. I grew up being told that how I performed at sports was the measure of my value as a young man. If I did well, I was a good person. If I lost or didn't do my best, I was second rate, inferior, not as worthy of love and affection. I was measured, and usually felt lacking, when it came to my performance. There, that is honest.

But when I am with other men, all they seem to talk about is sports. Lots of them eat, breath, and sleep their team. Some have t-shirts with their sport and their team on them. Some have trucks with their team embossed somewhere on the vehicle. For some reason, guys are really into sports. And when I am with a bunch of guys, that is what they talk about. Sometimes it is all they talk about. And when asked who I root for, I usually make something up. It is just easier to say 'Da Bears' than it is to explain 'Da history'. If I were to be honest, I would say that I never watch sports, don't watch Tv, and couldn't for the life of me tell you who won the world series, the last Superbowl, or when the last time was I watched a game (or cared to). That would be honest, but it would make me look like a complete dork in the midst of a bunch of sports nuts, and bring a real hush on the conversation. Thoughts about whether I was a real man or not would cross some of the guy's minds. Some would wonder what planet I came from, while others might admire my courage. And some would think I was gay.

I would like to not really care what other people think, and be totally honest all the time. That is my goal. But there is a cost, and when I am really honest, its one I am not always willing to pay.

When I look at the life of Jesus, I believe He demonstrated what it meant to live honest. He didn't let the opinions of people yank Him to and fro (I have always wanted to use those two words in an article, but honestly I don't know what they really mean or how to spell them). Jesus was like a rock unmoved by wind and rain and pharisee prejudice. He lived honest all day long. He lived true to himself. And I guess that's what it means to live honest - to live true to ourselves, living in truth inside ourselves, and living truthfully in our relationships outside, because of the inside.

Leaning into Adventure

I am beginning to see that everything in my life ties back to adventure. For many years I have had 'living the adventure' as one of my core values, but I always thought it was secondary. After all, everybody kept telling me that other things were more important (doctine, theology, Christian things to do) and that adventure was a fringe 'way of doing life' that was, at best, an ideal worth striving for, but not much more than that. That perspective is changing. I am discovering that the very way I do life is adventure - that it IS the way that Jesus meant for us to live. There isn't anything more important.

I am finding that right doctrine and correct theology are the things we usually perseverate on, but like it says in Corinthians, if I can do all kinds of wonderful things and don't have love as I am doing them, I am a clanging gong or a clashing cymbal - lots of noise without any heart. I see that as the number one trap of the followers of Jesus. We focus on the 'rightness' of belief rather than the way we believe. To put it in backpacking lingo (everything is about backpacking for me), we focus on the pack and whether we have all the right stuff in it, rather than focusing on the hiker and the gift he has to offer the world. I mean, which is more important - the sandals Jesus wore, or the man wearing them. It was his 'way of being in the world' that was impactful, not all the other stuff.

Adventure is our way of doing life. It is the way we tackle problems, heed advice, relate to the people in our life, the attitude we have as we walk the walk. For me, life has really become a great adventure. I think that came about fully when I realized that I wouldn't ever arrive at a place where I knew everything, that the path wasn't ever going to be 100% clear, and that God wasn't going to part the skies to tell me what to do. So I began leaning. That means that life feels a little bit like walking around in a dark cave. There isn't any clear path. So I follow the leanings - the gentle nudges, the subtle ideas, the uncertain promptings. And I do so with no guarantee that it is the right thing to do. Sometimes (maybe many times would be a better word), I fall on my face, or was wrong. The longer I journey, the less important 'not failing' becomes. And sometimes I lean and discover a path that I know beyond a doubt is the right path. And I realize that I never would have discovered it if I hadn't leaned just a little.

The hard part is that leaning takes faith. It takes a trust and adventurous belief that God really is with us and walks with us and never leaves us or forsakes us. It is a forward movement despite the circumstances, choosing to believe Him, choosing to trust that He will show up. More than that, it is confronting the false belief that He needs to show up, reminding ourselves that the truth is that He is already, and always has been, there.

So life has become a great adventure again. It feels alive, vibrant, uncertain, dynamic. As a friend of mine used to say, it is 'organic'. It is a living, breathing thing. It is a movement, powered by a foolish trust in an invisible God, deciding that if He really exists, He is probably worth following and knowing.

There is another truth that is beginning to make itself evident lately. It is the truth that I can only really know Him when I lean. There aren't going to be magic answers, no matter how hard I try to manipulate God. It is never going to be a sure path. The very essence of the journey is the uncertainty, and the necessary element of faith needed to walk it. We can't know Him if we aren't willing to lean.

In front of me as I write is a strange picture of a man typing on his laptop, wearing a suit, while sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool. And the pool is full of water. I'm not kidding! I am at a motel, and the motel has several floors with different themes on them. I'm not sure what the theme of a man with a laptop in a pool is. But as I look at the picture, I think to myself that sitting in a pool with a laptop, and having the thing actually work is not possible. Maybe its a really dumb illustration, but the question comes into my mind that says "How would you know if you were never really willing to get wet?"

That's the way life in adventure is. Things in life don't always make sense. I am beginning to wonder if we should stop saying things don't make sense and that the 'lean' is dumb, and decide instead to get wet, and let God do whatever He wants. I mean, it must have sounded pretty stupid to stand in front of a sea with a stick, a couple million people watching, and touch the water with the stick because God told you to, and actually expect that something was going to happen when you did. Thankfully for Moses, something pretty unexpected happened when he leaned out and touched the water with that staff. Where would you and I be as followers of this mysterious God be if he hadn't done the zany?

How would our faith be if Daniel hadn't leaned into uncompromise, if Ezekiel hadn't risked writing down the bizarre, if Abraham hadn't been willing to leave home without knowing the destination? It has always been about leaning into the great adventure. Think about Noah, building a boat, or Elijah pouring water on an altar that was supposed to magically come ablaze, or Joseph leaning into forgiveness toward brothers that had done the unspeakable. All done with that slant into the unknown, with a motivation that made no practical sense, and with an eye on what they would never see. Hebrews 11 is full of them - people willing to walk in the adventure, to trust that invisible God just because it was their unavoidable 'way' of being in the world.

The adventure is still out there. It didn't magically disappear one day. The God who initiates the whisper that causes us to lean forward in faith in the darkness is still calling. And He never intended for us to be safe and secure and in a guaranteed sanctuary of static non-involvement with Him. He designed the adventure. He intended adventure. And He still calls us into the wild today.

So maybe its time to leave what's nailed down, to let go of the immovable and the comfortable, and enter the great adventure of following an unpredictable and very alive God into the darkness of learning to be fully alive.

Trust

I have been talking to clients about trust today. It hits me what a mysterious thing it is. When we talk about it, trying to define the subtle nuances of what it really means in the face of God, I find myself getting lost very easily.

Trust means something different to me than it used to. It once meant that God was good and I should believe that He would work everything out. Now it is a shaky movement forward, believing that He knows my path, journeys with me as I step, and has walked every footprint in front of me. Trust is taking an invisible hand and walking, even when it doesn't make sense - especially when it doesn't make sense. It is standing in a dark cave and making movement toward a light that may or may not be there. It is making that movement, not because of the light, but because He somehow indicates that as His desire for my life.

Trust is believing in His goodness when nothing looks good - separating God from good. Believing that He is still good even when His hand is seemingly not there. It is remaining in faith when God gives us nothing to keep us remaining.

Trust for me has moved from an action on my part to a belief in a quality of His character - a shift from being about me to being about a trustworthy Papa. Trust has become living in a fashion that says "I can't do this wrong because I don't do this alone". It is a leaning into the future because God is good, not because I am. And with that lean, knowing that He will never leave me or forsake me - ever. It is a step forward into seeming emptiness, believing that my Daddy is bigger than the apparent circumstances and situation. Like courage, trust can only be expressed when it is expressed in the face of fear and uncertainty.

Trust is believing. It is a choice. It is a dangerous action that challenges insecurity and calls for a way of being that doesn't come from ourselves, but the work of the Spirit in our feeble flesh. Being able to move forward in trust is to put our future in His hands, contradicting everything in us that screams for security and guarantees.

Trust rarely makes sense, but is always right.

Beer at 12000 feet

This past week I had a friend visiting from Illinois and we were able to take a backpack trip into the Weminuche wilderness, one of my favorite places to go. We headed out in the afternoon Tuesday and were out three nights, seeing some of the most spectacular scenery ever - a 200 foot waterfall, another 3 tiered waterfall, a pristine alpine lake, and a beautiful mountain meadow at 11000 feet. And out of the meadow rose a mountain that towered into the sky, looming at 12,620. As we sat by the meadow and snacked, I leaned toward John and said "What do you think about climbing that thing?" I nodded at the giant near us. John was silent for awhile, then, without answering, began to pick out the route we might take. The next thing I knew, we were half way up the thing and gasping for any air to be found.

We couldn't find a route that really made any sense, so we just climbed up the side of the dumb thing. 1500 feet of climb up the dumb thing. We got to the top several times - that is a sarcastic way of saying that there were at least three false summits on the climb up - times when you think you are just about to crest the top and find out that the top is several million steps yet. After 2 hours of slogging up the scree and loose gravel (notice the efficient use of more than one really cool backpacking term in that last sentence) I arrived at the summit. At the very top was a little pile of rocks stacked up to hold 3 things; a plastic bottle that held the names and dates of others who had made it to the top, and, believe it or not, 2 beers. Fat Tire Amber Ale to be precise. And one had my name on it. Okay, not really, but with winter coming I knew it was my duty to drink at least one of them before they froze and broke.

So I sucked down my beer at 12,620 feet in the air, forcing it down through the cold and fizz (I like beer warm and flat - sorry, I'm just weird that way). And as I looked out at hundreds of miles that I could see, with millions of acres of land in all directions, I thought only one thing; God is good. God is really, really good. And sometimes when you least expect it, He shows up in ways you could never imagine.

So thanks for the beer Papa. And thanks for sharing that awesome place with me.

Lousy at Love

I have been overwhelmed lately with the simple truth of the gospel - that God is love. If I stop right there, I come face to face with my complete inadequacy in my ability to love. In common terms, I suck at love.

If the gospel of Jesus - the whole reason for Him dieing for us, the very crux of this huge plan of God's hinges around love - then what does that say about us following Him? If it is all about love, then how do we continually miss the mark? And if missing the mark is called, in Christianeze "sin", then our sin is not loving. Is there any need to complicate it?

As I sit with my own last question there, I realize that there is a need to complicate it. If we knew that our only task, our only way of being was the way of love, we would have to lay down our lives and do it. It is much easier to argue doctrine or get lost in church machinery than it is to face the mirror with our own lack of love. So simple - only four letters, but if we don't have love we are a clanging gong, a clashing 'symbol' of our own self focused-ness.

I am humbled that I don't even love myself very well. Lord, help me to love the least of these, even if that least is me.

Sittin on the Front Porch

My brother is a kook. You'd have to know him to fully appreciate his humor. He is known for saying and doing really crazy things. He coins these really profound sayings - things like "Never eat more than you can lift" or "Every time you go some place, there you'll be" or my personal favorite "You can pick your nose and you can pick your friends, but you can't wipe your friends on the couch". To prove the shallowness of the body of Christ, he used to walk through the foyer of the church several times, bating people to say "How are you doing?" And when they did, he would answer "Terrible". 90% of the time they never noticed or didn't care enough to explore what might be making things terrible. It seemed pretty obvious that Christian brothers and sisters didn't REALLY want to know how he was doing. We just say the words - we don't really mean them.

Shouldn't we be the ones actually caring for each other? I mean, wouldn't that be the least we could do? I guess I should be talking about the MOST we could do, but it seems like we haven't gotten the LEAST done yet. We remain on the front porch of each other's lives and don't get into the stuff of life very well. I guess that is partly because we don't open up, and partly because the receivers don't really want to know.

I was at a Bible study the other day. We argued over Calvin Vs. Armenian doctrine. We argued over the Bible being infallible. We talked about the correctness of (XXX) denomination. I sat there and wondered if we might get a little farther in our walk if we threw the whole book out and just did one thing - love. It is pretty much agreed that the Bible is about love. It says it pretty clear several hundred places. But do we do it? I mean lets face it - we have a choice. Keep chasing our own tails about who is right and who is wrong, or argue about what end of the egg to baptise first, or whether the real meaning in Greek is this or that- or we can take what we do understand and just do it.

We don't really get to know each other. Instead of entering in with each other, we stay on the front porch of life, talking about the casual, remaining safe in the shallow talk. "How about the Cubs? Think this is their year?" (Can you tell I was Illinois born and raised?) Needless to say the Cubbies STILL haven't won, and neither do we tend to get past the superficial, to the stuff that really matters about being family - brothers and sisters in a common Papa.

Lost in the Authentic

I'm curious as to what most folks might define as 'authentic'. When it comes to living an authentic life, I hear lots of talk about it, but don't know if any of us talkers actually know what it means. I was talking with a friend this morning (thanks again John) about this whole topic. (John gets really nervous when I blog, being not quite sure what I might write). I found myself talking about Jesus as the best example of what it meant to live authentic. I thought about him not being swayed by others around him - the pharisees critiquing and the disciples favoring him. It seemed that he didn't really let himself get pulled by popularity or unpopularity. He was sorta unmanipulatable. When people wanted him to heal more, and he needed to be with his father, he vacated and left them hanging. When the religious people wanted to pin him down about what he meant in his teachings, he usually confounded them.

I guess when I look at Jesus, I see a guy who lived 100% himself all the time, whether it won him points or not. He just was himself, without deviation, every moment, in every situation, and with everybody. It's interesting to see that he treated people different, depending on who they were and their situation. The rich young ruler gets challenged to follow and walks away, where the Geresene demonic begged to go with him and was sent home. When the disciples argue about who was best, he challenged them to more. When a woman was caught sleeping with another man (not her husband) he simply tells her to sin no more. And then there is another woman at a well that has been in multiple relationships and who is shacking up with another, and he doesn't say 'boo' about it being wrong (Take that to the legalist bank and cash it!) He was different with every situation. Sometimes he healed with a word, sometimes with a touch, and sometimes from far off. Once it even took him two times to get the healing done.

All this to say that Jesus somehow had the ability to live authentically while always being different. He seemed to live true to his heart (His father's purpose for his life) while not getting bogged down in ritual or empty repetition. He wasn't always the same. Yet he was always the same (I didn't say I had this all figured out).

So what does it mean to live authentic? I have no clue. I guess it means something about living from what is true inside of you without giving a rip about what everybody else thinks. I think it also means something about being unique and creative in every situation.

I wonder how many of us live authentic? Do we stay true to our hearts, living honest all the time? Are we compromising? Do we spend our time on things that could really change lives, or are we a victim to the machinery that keeps our lives propped up?

It seems to me that being authentic must have something to do with living honest, living true, living from the heart, never letting falseness steal our commitment to being real. Or maybe living authentic is an act of the Spirit within us. Maybe it is much more about passionately pursuing Him than it is a choice to make.

Share your thoughts!

In the TV Game Show I'll Take Relationship for $200

I have been noticing that there is a totally different flavor to people who are religious - very different from the flavor of a person free to have relationship with Jesus. Whether people are in or out of the institutional church is irrelevant. Religion always stinks. It smells because is becomes a cheap imitation of relationship, and it binds up religious people. A spirit of fear replaces a spirit of grace and freedom, and they are so afraid that at every corner there is a way that they could mess up whatever thing they have going. Like the plate spinner on the old Ed Sullivan show that used to see how many plates he could get spinning on the top of these dumb poles. There was always a number at which he lost control. When one would start flopping like it was going to fall down, he would frantically try to get it going again. The problem would be that there were too many of them. Deeper yet was the problem of thinking he could ever 'master' the poles or the gravity that worked for and against them.

When religion replaces relationship, people end up so afraid that they will do something wrong or not do enough good things to keep the plates spinning. They end up fearful that around every corner there is another thing they will mess up. Worse yet is the rigid or strict adherence to the pattern of behavior that is all about them feeling like they have accomplished something grand, and very little about God. Ritual becomes the end, not loving relationship with an unpredictable God. There is no room to create or trust or explore or discover. After all, if they don't do it right, God will thump them. Evidently the God they worship isn't love, unless you define love (as many do) as someone caring enough about you to hit you along side of the head with a 2x4. I'm sorry, but I love my kids, and haven't had to use a piece of wood yet to communicate that to them.

When religion replaces relationship, people seem to be victimized by their own works system. The works they try so hard to be perfect at leave them never perfect, but always striving. The norms they can't attain become norms others should maintain - as if relationship with God was about keeping rules. Relationship/Rules - both begin with the same letter, but the letters after the "R" are very different. How do we get them mixed up?

It seems to me that it would be a lot harder to do a relationship. There is no one to tell you what to do, how to behave, or how to avoid blowing it. In relationship I would have to trust. In religion I just do what I am supposed to do and not do the things I am not supposed to. Oh yeah, and I am supposed to do it all with a joyful heart. Religion is much easier. I don't have to choose or think or be really responsible - my only responsibility is to do whatever I do perfectly. When I can master doing everything right, then I can become truly religious. When I can spin the plates perfectly, I will be "There". I wonder sometimes what the rest of that line of thinking would be. If I could arrive at the place where I did everything right, then I wouldn't need the blood of Christ, because I would have it all together. Something seems very wrong with that picture.

I'll take relationship for $200 on that game show.

I don't want to be told what to do and what not to do. I want to walk with Papa, regardless of where the road takes me. I want Him more than I want easy answers. I want to know the Spirit of God more than I want every step dictated to me. I want to wrestle with Him rather than do 10 legalistic steps that are supposed to make me right with God. I choose messy relationship, with its confusion and maddening uncertainty. I choose the unknown over the known. I want the mystery of the journey together before I want to know I am doing it right.

I know, I'm pretty scary sometimes.