The un-audacity of living the dream

I re-read my first ever blog. 2 years later, the group that spawned my thoughts has morphed and grown to where my role is basically a supporting one. It's a totally different entity than I could ever have imagined, better in most ways.

It's a funny thing though, the passage of time and the reality of perception. I think if you had told me 2 years ago that I wouldn't be attending the gathering, that there would be another guy who was heading it up and giving it direction, that it would look the way it does... honestly think I would have been disappointed, or at least bothered, maybe even ticked.

But what did I know back then? I knew what I wanted, I knew my heart to see something happen, and I think those were good things. I don't think I was sinful in desiring that group to grow and flourish. I just didn't have all the information at the time. My peception of best back then, and the reality of best right now are barely comparable.

The principle I keep running into is best summed up by the great poet and theologian Billy Joel, "The good ole days weren't always good and tomorrow ain't as bad as it see-ee-eems." If I pause long enough to let that truth do it's work, it should drive humility deep into my core. My dreams and ambitions and hopes and prospects keep waking me up to face the day. They give me something to look forward to. They allow me to dance hopefully and rage wildly into the night. They're important...

But they're best held loosely.

I wouldn't trade one thing about my life, knowing what I knew then and knowing what I know now. I wouldn't do it differently. I'm grateful that God, the one I was listening for on that day, is in control. He knows best. Even better me. If you can believe it. It's a hard lesson to learn. If anything seems to be truly rooted in my own best interest, it's my dreams. They seem so shiny and bright, so tantalizing and sweet. Honest reflection gently convinces me, however, both of the necesity of large dreams, and the humility of letting them age well. It seems when I do that, they are always becoming what they were intended to be... images and reminders of God's sovereign goodness and provision for me.

Quenching a drought

I dry up easily when it comes to the blog-o-sphere. I've commented on it before and I'll probably comment on it again since I'm commenting on it here. I think I've discovered the reason.

I'm an incredibly selfish blogger. I want to put out the goods, but I rarely take time to take in the goods. That's a great model for producing incredibly selfish and shallow stuff.

So it's been a grueling 2 weeks emotionally and mentally, and today was no different, so I decided to take a 10 minute mental holiday, and what I ended up with was a 10 minute excursion into inspiration land.

It all started with my lovely and talented wife, Natalie. She always inspires me. Most recently because she's pregnant, and I'm no professional but it seems like it would be REALLY hard to have another person growing inside of you. None the less, she's been a trooper and the picture of grace. Hopefully the time is almost up.

From there I went to my brother's page. I've long contended that he's the funniest guy I've ever personally known. His blog only cemented his position, as well as provided some wonderful thought fodder about big bangs, body odor, french people, and cosmological physics. Not necessarily in that order.

From that point on it was pretty much one amazing thing after another. First I found Lauren's Blog, Brittany's Blog, Ryan's Blog, Bre's Blog (not my sis-in-law who's pretty cool her self), Joel's Blog and David's Blog. I was challenged, and forced to ask myself...

"Jason, why you so dang SHALLOW and why don't you love JESUS?"

Seriously, when Paul challenged Timothy not to let anyone look down on him because he was young, but to set an example to the believers... that's a challenge these students take seriously. I really needed that. I needed to see that the bar is set high and that there are people, people much younger, but much mo bettah than I am, reaching for the highest goal.

My hats off and my heart goes out to all of you who unknowingly challenged me today. Thank you. That's what the Body of Christ is all about. Keep on keepin' on.

Processing Politics in an Election Year

I'm in a tough place... I'm a pastor and a Christian, given a responsibility to reach out and help people be reconciled to God who loves them and calls them. I'm also an American, given the freedom and privilege to elect those that I believe will govern this great nation toward prosperity.

As a Christian, I find in the scriptures that Jesus was decidedly not a political Messiah, much to the chagrin and dismay of many of his followers. He had lots of opportunities to be a political Messiah. During his tempting in the desert, he could have worshipped Satan and been given the whole of creation. He could have been born to a Caesar and risen to power that way. In meeting with Pilate or Herod He could have either compelled them to follow Him or called down one of His legion of angels to overthrow them. Instead, he makes cryptic remarks to Pilate about truth and He says nothing to Herod. To the Pharisees trying to set him up, he only says, "Give to Caesar what is Caesars..." I fundamentally believe that the key to a changed government is a changed heart. The best way to ensure that we're governed fairly is to make sure that every person on earth is a radical disciple of Jesus.

On the other, much of the tone of political discourse bothers me. There's a lot of banter back and forth about whose right and whose wrong. I've actually heard people say that they don't believe someone from one party or the other could possibly be a Christian. That seems totally out of character for a people who Jesus prayed would be united... one, even as He and the Father are one.

So I wrote and re-wrote this entry about a thousand times trying to get it right, trying to walk the line between realizing that the government Jesus came to set up wasn't based on any elections (it's a radical theocracy scripturally referred to as the Kingdom of God), and realizing that all authority on earth comes from Him and He's given me a role to play. I need to play it.

So here's where I'm at. I believe both candidates are doing what they believe is best for the country. I believe both Barak Obama & John McCain think that their ideas and ideologies are what is needed to move this country forward. I also believe that whatever the outcome on November 5, my ultimate allegiance is not here. So as I cast my vote, and even engage in boisterous discourse between now and then, I'm compelled to remember that the person on the other side of the aisle isn't just a Democrat, they are a person who Jesus loves and wants to spend eternity with. Starting now. I want to see them as someone who cares passionately about the environment and personal freedom, even if I disagree with how they go about assuring and protecting those. As a reconciler (first), if my political convictions cause me to drive away someone from "the other" party... or even to simply SEE THEM primarily as someone from the other party," I've missed it. If I am right, politically, and I destroy a bridge to future conversations about ultimately important things... eternal things... then being right has never been so wrong.

The golden rule says to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I want people to see me not as a Republican (Libertarian Republican is probably closer to the truth). I want them to see me as Jason, Natalie's husband, Jack & Reagan's dad, Astros fan, and ultimately and most gratefully... child of God. If I'm going to do that, I have to stop "seeing" them as Democrat, liberal, whatever.

So if you're voting Republican this year, join me in setting the pace in affirming the person in our political conversations. See the humanity and Image of God in the person across the aisle. If you're voting Democrat this year, I love you anyway, and hope you feel the same. I hope I'm able to convey that I know you're more than a political affiliation. More than that, I hope I'm able to go to sleep at night actually knowing that you're more than a political affiliation.

Now I know why they don't talk about Politics in polite company.

Bullet Points & Changing Seasons: or two for the price of 1/3.

It was cool outside today...relatively, of course. The soft breeze whispered through the tasseled oaks keeping the shade-worthy day from becoming a here's-a-cloth-to-dab-your-forehead kind of day. I like those days. Let fall arrive. I feel like I come alive in autumn. It's got me thinking...

• I'm totally energized by the RNC. Sarah Palin gave what may be THE political speech of a generation. There are good ideas and hope flying around the twin cities for the first time in a long time. I didn't start out as a McCain guy, and I still don't think he's as conservative as I like... but I trust him, and I believe he wants what's best for the country.



• Every time election season comes around, I dream about being a speech writer. My good friend Daniel Espinoza said the same thing while we were watching Palin deliver the goods. A dear lady in our church told me the other day, "you know, Tony Snow was only 31 when started working for Bush 41." I asked her if she knew anyone in the upcoming administration that I could get in touch with. She didn't. It's all good. I've got a pretty good gig.



• We're less than a month away from Baby #2. The votes were in, and it looks like we're going to name her Reagan Elizabeth Powers. Thank you for your votes. I'm sure she'll appreciate all your input in the years to come.



• I'm listening to "Subterranean Homesick Blues" on iTunes. I love Bob Dylan. If we had a boy, I was pushing to name him Dylan.



• Natalie didn't want to name our boy Dylan.



• I'm slowly starting to recognize the gentle rhythms of life. This week has been through the roof nuts, but the weeks before were slow, even boring (aside from the recurring bout of bubonic plague we had to deal with). I felt guilty during those times, rather than capturing them and using them to refresh, recharge, and be ready for this season of activity. As my life grows and fills out, those are the things that I'm increasingly drawn to think about.



• Life happens. I believe the Cosmos were created with order, reflecting the One who breathed them into being. The more I step back, the more I'll recognize the rhythms and accept them, whatever they may be.



• I read about St. Francis, walking through the woods, breaking into song at the life and wonder that was crushing in on him, threatening to swallow him whole. I'd like to be in the moment enough to be dazzled at the wonder of the Kingdom at Hand.

It's amazing what a change in scenery can accomplish. If only the Astro's would make the playoffs... then life would be great.

It's was all about the fantasy...

I'm currently sitting in my parents living room with my brother and Billy Carroll. All 3 of us have our laptops open, pouring over the latest projections, picks, pans, and injury reports.

It's fantasy football time baby.

Last year I got off to a screaming start, drafted the best receiver in the league and then dropped him 2 days before week on after reading a bogus injury report (Randy Moss' hammy was not, indeed, strained). I still managed to finish second in the league.

This year the tensions are just as high. So many questions? Is Peyton's knee REALLY healed? Will Adrian Peterson hold up to being the Viking's number one running back all season? Should I take a tight end in the 3rd round, or wait until the 5th? These are the really important things that one must consider.

So in 13 minutes, the game is on. Are you ready for some football?

Mom's Favorite

I can't stop laughing. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it.

And the hits just kept on coming...

Poor Natalie hasn't been out of bed all day. Last night at 1:00 (that A.M. for you morning people like me) she woke up not feeling well at all. She need Pepcid, stat. Like a fireman springing at the rescue bell, I lept to the call of duty.

It was actually less leaping and more dragging. I wish I was better and more supportive at stuff like that, but I was groggy and probably pretty cranky. At the bottom of my heart I was glad for the opportunity to do something for her. I felt for her, but the strange commiseration of walking through a difficult time together can draw forth frustration as well as solidarity. I wanted this whole season to be over, and I certainly didn't want chapter 18 of our recent saga to begin in her at 1:00 in the morning!

Still, this morning she wasn't well. As if being pregnant isn't hard enough (not that I'd understand, of course) she now is pregnant AND sick in her stomach. If I wasn't laughing I'd be crying, and if I wasn't crying I'd be laughing.

It's times like this though that bring a person's world view into crystal clarity. It highlights how quickly I am reduced to doubt. It reveals whether I try to stifle those doubts or search for an answer that is acceptable. It uncovers whether or not I am able to walk the tight-wire of accepting suffering and pain on earth AND the goodness and sovereignty of God. Most of all, maybe it indicates how quickly I am able to get outside of myself, beyond the here and now, and realize that there is a greater cosmic picture than I regularly walk in.

I think about my friends who are, or are becoming, foster parents and how they are going to rescue a child who right now may not have access to medicine, but sadder still doesn't have access to a parent who is able or willing to procure the medicine. The greater cosmic reality is that I'm a pretty lucky guy. It doesn't diminish the stress of the past few weeks. I don't think God works that way. I think my fears and doubts and struggles are real. I just think that when they are viewed and processed well, they have the unique ability to either drive me further into myself and closer to self-destruction, or they can draw me out of myself and open my eyes to both my blessings and the sufferings around me.

I think I'm finally able, for the most part, to be thankful for the amazing run of circumstances in the past few weeks. Not all the situations are fully resolved. I'd still like to sell my van to sock a few extra bucks away for when baby Reagan comes. I'd still like to have my family well. But the greater reality is, again, that God is here. He's working and fixing, and He knows my name well enough to bring me through even this in a way that really brings glory to Him.

That's a great thought.

Bullets & Projectiles

I used to read many more blogs than I do now, and back then, I always loved people who were expert users of the bullet point. It seemed like a style that would work well for me since I'm sort of all over the map in my brain. The problem is that I write A LOT, so 10 page bullet points don't accomplish the same thing. None the less, here's my attempt at the bulletted blog post...

• In reading Natalie's documentation of the past 10 days, I remember being drawn to the thought that God is here with me. When Jack is sick, God is here with us. We're not alone. It's much less scary when you're not alone.


• Friday night will be just me and Jack. No firm details yet, but I feel certain that it will involve beef and fire. Probably Television. And a sippy cup. For Jack.


• We're going to have a baby in 5 weeks. It will want to live with us for approximately 18 years. It will also want to eat food and wear clothes. I will be primarily responsible for providing such accoutrements.


• My ear infection is all better. Antibiotics are good stuff.

Alright. That's all I've got. By way of confession, I'm disappointed with the way my first bullet point blog worked out. Perhaps better luck next time.

Otitis externa...

Or, more commonly, outer ear infection.

See, I have this thing. I think Q-tipping is just about the best thing in the universe. Just after a steaming hot shower, get out and swab the ear canal... glorious.

Turns out that it's bad for you (how could something SO right, turn out to be SO wrong?). All that ear wax serves a purpose... it keeps the water from gathering and infecting. So, two months ago I could feel it coming on for about a week. Each day, quietly, steadily, little by little the hot fire poker of aural death made its way to what must be an extremely important place, to be so sensitive.

Antibiotic drops and a benzocane drop should do the trick.

The problem... I only did the antibiotic for 2 days instead of 5.

Fastforward to last Friday, the familar warm heating pressure shows up. Quietly at first, only letting me know it was around. In response I picked up the neglected antibiotic and started my regimen again. I was too late. This morning it was as if steaming Kamikaze pilots of doom flew one by one into my tender little ear canals and exploded microbombs of ear death in the side of my face.

The doctor was little help. "You have an ear infection. Usually babies get those."

"What are you saying doc? Are you calling me a baby? I'll take you down right here and now if I have to."

But alas, it seems that there's no insta-cure for the ear infection. So what did I learn?

1. That which feels the best is not always the best. The implications and applications are endlessly endless.


2. Medicine knows what it's talking about. When it says 5 days, use it for 5 days.


3. Ear infections suck. That's all I have to say about that.

So I'm going to tough it out and pray that the antibiotics work fast. I'm hoping and praying that I'll handle this with grace and dignity. Most of all, I'm hoping this never happens again.

Dear God...

How are you doing? This has been a pretty tough week. I don't think I've really handled all my stuff very well. I'm sorry about that. You know my freak out tendency is pretty high, and it seems like I've lived there for about a month-and-a-half now.

I keep coming back to the sovereignty thing, and generally it's a help. Too many times I don't get there quick enough, though. Like today when Jack got sick and had to go to the doctor. Eventually I remembered that you love him too, and you're the only one who can really take care of him. Then there's the money piece. All that stuff really had to hit at once? Couldn't it have been spread out a little bit? Or not happened at all? Especially that one. We did everything right, we turned the machine in and still had to pay for it. Isn't that injustice?

But you're God. And right now I need to see you that way. I need to believe that you're bigger than doctors diagnoses or financial projections. You're even bigger than that bottom line on my bank statement. You'e Immanuel, God with us. You're very near, very close, and you care about me. You want me to hear your voice. You want me to know that you're involved. I get locked up in thinking that always means you want me to know exactly what you're doing. Right now I guess you just want me to know you're doing something, and be OK with that.

I need you to promise me that it'll all be alright. That doesn't mean it has to be just like I want it or like I envision it, but I need to know from you that it'll be alright. Whatever that means, it will be alright, won't it?

I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Help me get here sooner. You're doing a good job. I'm grateful. Forgive me when I'm not. Oh, and can you please open up Jackson's airways? He's such a trooper. Let him know you're with him too.

I love you. I don't do it very well sometimes, but I love you. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for letting me be a spoiled kid sometimes.

For you Jesus,

Amen

It's Up to YOU!

In less than 2 months, we'll have another baby.

That baby will need a name.

Nat & I have come up with a couple of names that we like, and we've decided to give YOU, the voting public, the right to choose. You'll notice the poll to the right. Vote for the name that you like by September 15th and the winning name will stick.

You can be a part of history. Get out and rock the vote. Send everyone you know. Get the word out.

God said to me...

There was a day when I was much more ready, willing, and able to say, "God Spoke." Part of my new found hesitancy comes because I would read in the Bible about people who "spoke" for God when God didn't really speak at all. That's not God's favorite thing in the world.

Not to mention, there have been times when I've really felt like I heard God speak something, only to have it not happen. I hate that because it further reveals that the difference between God and I is really quite large. He graciously comes to be near to us, but on my best day it's an art rather than a science.

I have the opportunity to take a trip to the other side of the world, and I really want to hear God's voice. First, I don't want to miss something outstanding simply because I'm nervous or afraid. On the other hand, I don't want to travel half way around the world and leave a new wife and baby at home simply because I want to travel around the world.

So how do I discern between the voice of the Lord and the sounds of my own inner workings. A wise and trusted friend asked the question, "How has God spoken to you in the past?" That's a wonderful question, which leads into many of the same doubts that I mentioned earlier.

This is where I wish i had done a better job at cultivating the habit of humility. That's what I feel is most needed right now. My gut feels like I'm pressing, striving, borderline freaking out with the need and the desire to come to a decision. Humility says, "God's in control and He'll get me to where I need to go." Un-humility (pride, in biblical parlance) says that I have to figure it out. So here's my game plan.

1. Pray - That means me. I've been praying about it for awhile, but not in the focused way that I need to. It's been a passing thought, rather than a time of sitting and asking the Lord to give me His wisdom.


2. Be prayed for - I've asked a couple of people (and now I ask you) to pray for me. I don't know what they're praying, or how they're praying, but I trust that they love me and they are praying. That is such an encouragement to me, and makes me think that no matter what happens, it's all good.


3. Worship - At some point between now and tomorrow evening when I want to make my final decision, I'm going to take a walk and just enjoy what God has done all around me. I'm going to spend some time confessing the areas where I've turned away from God, and then I'm going to celebrate the grace He's poured out to me. I'm going to listen to some Chris Tomlin & Dave Crowder and enjoy the sounds of souls singing to the heavens.

I'm going ot make a decision, and in faith I'm going to believe that I've made the right one. I believe that God is good, so if I (in faith) make the "wrong" decision, God in His sovereignty will make that known.

So pray for me. Pray that the greatest miracle of all - participation in the leading of God - will happen to me. But whatever happens, as I pray am prayed for and worship... it'll all be good.

Monday God

It's the first Monday of the month, and I sat down this morning and jumped right in.

I did the same thing last month...

and the month before...

and before...

It's not that I don't think about the future, I think about it a lot. I just don't make plans around it. The Future arouses hope and fear alternately, and I will react to it for a day, but I haven't been very disciplined about harnessing the power of hope and dismantling the power of fear as it pertains to the future.

So when I sat down today, I found frustration at the unknown slinking it's way into my brain. How can I plan for tomorrow when I don't know what's coming today? How can I look forward and be prepared? Frustration gives way to discouragement, which gives way to fear, which gives way to hopelessness...

But I'm not a victim!

Then I remembered that I have a foundational belief that God is timeless. It's a tricky theological conundrum that's hard to wrap your brain around, but easy to see the implications.

God knows tomorrow. He's already there.

When I was younger (yesterday) I used to beg Him to tell me the future. "What are my kids going to look like? When will you give me the big check to pay off my student loans?" I was mildly perturbed when He wouldn't answer me. It seemed selfish that He would hog all that wonderful information and not share it with me. I promised not to do anything to change the future and thereby thwart his sovereignty, I just wanted to be able to plan. In my heart of hearts, I assured Him, I was ultimately altruistic and I wouldn't do anything like bet on the world series or pick the long shot at the Kentucky Derby, I just wanted to know what was coming so I could plan for it and not be surprised by the little hiccups along the way. I don't think it's too much to ask.

He didn't tell me who is going to win the Superbowl. Dangit.

As my faith grew up, I realized that there's not much fun in telling the future. As I watch my son grow, I have experienced the great thrill of watching him discover. When Jack sees something new, his eyes pop with wonder and his mouth stretches with glee. It's the greatest thing ever.

I forget that God is Father. He enjoys seeing me discover today. He also enjoys comforting me when I cry, when I scream out at the injustice in the world (mostly as it pertains to me), and when I crumble in a heap on the floor. He's there. He knew I would be there too.

He was there waiting for me the whole time.

So I want to make 1st Monday different. I want to sit quietly enough to acknowledge the fact that God can already see August 31st, and all the days before it. I'm probably still going to ask Him to tell me the future, but I'll be able to smile when He doesn't. I want to hear His ideas about what's coming. He may not tell me specifics, but I think he'll help me find a good path. He'll tell me whether I need to push forward or lay back, whether I need to have the hard conversation or just sit quietly. I think He can help me plan. I think He wants to help me plan. That's how Jesus could say to His disciples, "There's another place we have to go," when He seemed to be cresting the wave of popularity.

So rather than sitting & projecting my hopes onto the uncertain future, I'm going to spend some time this morning listening to what Father thinks is important. Believe it or don't, it takes a lot of faith to believe that God really cares about the nit picky details of my job. With all the stuff going on in the middle east, and the Olympics in China, and the fragile economy, it feels somewhat selfish to think that God would be invested in who I have lunch with this week or whether or not I go visit a small group next week.

But my God is pretty big. He's bigger than I give Him credit for. And I hear that He's very fond of me. ;-)

God was going 20 mph.

Nat and I were house sitting awhile back when I realized my shoes were at my house. Hopping in the car, expecting to jaunt home and back in plenty of time, I ran into suburban expansion. 30 minutes, 1 1/2 miles, and frazzled nerves later, I arrive at my house.

The reason: 2 elementary schools and 4 school zones. I shook my fist at inconvenience and begged God to let me move deep into the woods. Then I sensed a sweet whisper, "But who will tell all these people I love them?"

All of a sudden, the people who were slowing me up went from being obstructions, to families in need of hope. Instead of noticing traffic, I noticed young people who I could get to know and share with. I knew I couldn't leave. This was my community. I was wrecked.

But real community is messy. When people get into each other's lives, it chafes like cheap toilet paper because I have issues, baggage, hang ups, and "idiosyncrasies." So do you.

Real community is knowing the difference between "one of my moods" and something wrong and loving me through both of them (even when they both happen a lot). It's calling me on my moods, bearing my burden, and letting me bear yours. It's rubbing me the wrong way, and it's saving my life.

But it's most definitely not just "getting together."

And the greatest petri dish for growing community...

Frequent, spontaneous contact.

The more we're around each other, the more likely we'll become a community. It's not just about affinity when we realize something greater is going on and submit to the process. By having dinner together and shopping together and our kids play together and being willing to be real and commit to caring even when and especially when we disagree or are different... we're nurturing the raw materials of real community.

The challenge for me was to see the people right around me as my community too. It goes from meeting people at church to meeting people in my world. What if God wants me to reach out to the neighbor lady, or the couple across the street? What if He wants me to show her He loves her and that God and church is about imperfect, broken people learning to live and love God and each other inspite of our "idiosyncrasies?"

Lynn McCord asked, "What now?" That's up to you. Here are somethings I'm going to try...

1) Rally with those already around me. Does anyone from your church live near you? 5 couples who attend my church live within 1/2 mile of my house. Let's get together soon and get to know each other better.

2) Slay the dragon of individualism. I really don't need more "me" time. It's really no hassle to have someone to my house for dinner (if they don't expect spic-n-span). It's not the company I pull back from anyway, it's letting them see me and speak into my life when I need it. Point blank: to be who God wants me to be, I need other people. The Marlboro man died ruggedly alone.

3) Make the best of what's around. I'm going to walk around my neighborhood at least once a week and pray that I see what I need to see. What is that? I don't know. Maybe someone I can talk to. That's out of my comfort zone (see #2 above). But God loves them. I know it, and they may not. Whoever I meet, I'm going to take that as from God and look for ways to build a relationship with them, see what God's doing in their life, and let them see what God's doing in mine.

The key word in my life is PROACTIVE. After 31 years, the world hasn't beat down my door. I guess God wants me to get out and try to make a difference somewhere.

But I'm wearing a smock for when it starts to get messy!

Being the Church... and going to one too.

There's a guy I know who moved his whole family to New York for the express purpose of living intentional missional lives. He was a denominational leader in the denomination that my church is a part of, and he tells about how he and his wife just started feeling called to go live in New York city. It's really an amazing story, and you can check out what he's doing here.

In an e-mail exchange, he made reference to "being the church while attending one (sometimes)" and I really liked that. At River City, I'm unapologetically the "small group zealot." It really worked out that I get to go do that every day and get paid for it, because it's what I'd gladly do for nothing (but don't tell my boss). I was far away from God and the church when I discovered community and I realized the power it has - power to destroy if it's focused on something essentially life taking, power to restore if it's focused on something live giving - but power none the less.

The reason I liked his comments about being the church while going to one (which he may or may not have borrowed from George Barna's book Revolution) is because it fundamentally taps into a conviction that I haven't necessarily communicated as well as I wish. The "mechanism" for community at River City Community Church is small groups. The primary way people find their way into a small group is through attending a River City worship gathering or event... I wonder what would change if the direction of those arrows were reversed... what if a primary way people discovered a River City worship gathering was through a small group?

That's what really captures my imagination and makes my palms sweat...

• There are about 50 Life Groups (intentional discipleship small group) at RCCC.


• There are about 20 Activity Groups (less frequent, event related gatherings)


• There are atleast as many Service Groups (ministry specific communities).


• There are probably close to 700 people in groups at RCCC (guestimate).


• Each person in each group lives in a neighborhood.


• Each neighborhood represented is filled with people whose lives are falling apart or are simply wrestling with the reality of insignificance. There are those who are going through divorces, having affairs, abusing their children, and countless other activities that simply fall short of the abundance that God wants to offer.

What if 700 people got freaked out about their neighborhoods? Not the scared, go into isolation type of freaked out, but the standing on a hilltop weeping for the hurts below type of freaked out. What if small groups decided that it was intolerable that the people around them would live without the type of life-giving community while they gathered within ear-shot?

Bill Hybels wrote a book called Holy Discontent. It's not the kind of book that's going to bend your brain, but it is the kind of book that should inspire you to get off the couch and do something. The thing I realized as I read this book is that my Holy Discontent is two-fold, 1)people living in isolation, and 2) people who aren't living in isolation not caring about people who are.

So that's my rant for today. Go check out Jeff & Christina Getz's site, go pick up Barna's book or Hybel's book or better still, find a group of people that you can gather with on a regular basis who will make you better and who will ask you to make them better. When you find those people, pray for God to expand it, then go looking for who He's sending and invite them. When you do that, Church stops being a place and starts being a living breathing life giving thing, infused with the power and life of God Himself. Who could say no to that?

A River Ran Through It

The urban gave way to the pine forest at a spot called the grotto. In the distance the 10:00 mass echoed through the thickett. Just across the street, invisible from even the nearest edge were laundromat's and coffee shops and liquor stores vying for the time and attention of passers by and drivers through.

The grotto didn't cry out, unless you were listening for the silent spot among the roar. All along the path, the stations of the cross juxtaposed the sorrow and the joy that marked the life of Christ, going all the way back to his Annunciation. It was hard to imagine much sorrow walking through the Grotto.

There is a section there called "The Peace Garden," with a river/brook and several ponds intended to remind visitors of the waters of baptism, the sacred waters that cleanse us and symbolize the hope of forgiveness. So close to a flow like the Colombia River, I also thought of the one out of whom Christ would make flow Rivers of Living Water.

It was one of those moments with the air of eternity. The colors seemed more vivid, the air more crisp, the scents more alive than in other places. I've been lucky enough to encounter a few of those moments. Once when I was 12 in Washington D.C. Another in the Austrian Alps, and then today, sitting on a hewn wooden bench in the Peace Garden.

"...when Peace like a river attendeth my way... it is well with my soul..."

A rose (city) by any other name...

I flew into Portland yesterday on my expectations, it seems. I have been looking forward to this trip for a long time. In many ways I think it seemed like the payoff for all my years of pining away for the Pacific Northwest. It's almost like the final redemption of the story my life was in before. I don't think I could have handled leaving Portland 8 years ago. For every co-dependent needy reason you can think of, if I had come here and had to leave it would have been devastating.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking forward to leaving. I'm a big believer in "place" and "space" and "location" and there have been enough places and spaces and locations that just felt right the first time I encountereed them. I believe some heart places may even be intrinsic, drawing us from the heart even before we've ever been there. When we finally get to those places, it feels like a visit to a place from our early childhood. There almost seem to be memories in places we've never been and a familiarity on streets we've never walked.

I wonder if Heaven will be like that. I wonder if when we get there, it will seem like we've finally come back to the place we always should have been. I think heaven for me is going to be in one of the mountainous places, close to the ocean and pinned behind a mountain range so the moisture doesn't dissipate and the place stays green and temperate year round. I definitely think heaven will be like that.

Bullets don't kill people, puma's kill people. Always watch out for pumas.

There is a point of no-return for my blogging. I go so long without saying anything, that I get locked up trying to say everything that I haven't said since the last post. I'm such a brain-twisted animal, but I know who I am and I sleep good at night, so that's alright.



So here's the readers digest version, bullet pointed for easy reading (I'm in this for you!), of where I've been. Comment as you like, tell me what you think, help me stay on task. When you respond, it keeps me thinking. This is a symbiotic relationship here. You..... complete....... me. I know you're touched.

• I've been sick for over a week now. Nothing makes you appreciate health like sickness. Today I feel much better, and I think I'm going to stop by Whole Foods or Sun Harvest and check into the all natural supplementation. I've realized a few things... 1) I eat like crap all the time. 2) I NEVER take any sort of vitamin ever, under any circumstances. 3) I don't exercise. Well, I exercise slightly more often than I take vitamins. But only slightly. and 4) I don't go to bed early enough. All of that is a concoction for unhealth. Throw into the mix that I am now 6 months into my three oh's and I'm starting to think that it really may be time to start taking care of this old tent.

• Natalie and I are going to Portland on Friday. I've never been to the Pacific Northwest, but I've always wanted to. I've got this sneaking suspicion that somewhere up there may just be where my hearts home is. Natalie's worried that I won't come back. I assure here that I'm 74% positive that I'm going to come back to Texas atleast long enough to get all my things. It's funny that I have such a love for a place I've never been before. It's the remnant of the hippie ethic still living and breathing in my soul. Someone I know who used to be in Portland once said, "you can only look at pretty trees for so long." I'm not so sure.

• Life is good. I've been pretty aware lately of all the really cool things that are in my life. I think I have a tendency to be somewhat pessimistic. Maybe cynical is a better word. I have to admit lately though, I just have this sense that whatever comes, whatever happens, however it all shakes out, I've got it pretty good and I'm really thankful to God for what He's done and given me. I need to live in light of that and make it more of a habit to remember more often. Remembering is a discipline, but it's important. Vital even, to being the right kind of person.

• Friendships make the world go 'round. Not literally. That's centrifugal force (centripedal? any Physicists out there?). But along with the life is good thing, I realize that I've been given a great hands when it comes to the friends in my life. I don't get to see all of them as often as I should, but I appreciate that there's never a begrudging guilt trip or manipulation game when our paths finally do cross. We just pick up where we left off. My friends challenge me to dream big dreams, have big thoughts, and just generally want to be a big person... but the good kind of big. Not the fat kind of big that I'm increasingly finding a propensity toward. It wasn't always like this. Again, I attribute it to the three oh's.

• Here's an Interesting Christmas Idea. Go here and see what you think. I learned about it from reading this blog from a guy whose a pastor at the church who started this last year. What do you think? What would the implications be if ten's of thousands of Christians across America undertook a project like this (at the site, click on the "read more" link at the bottom, and that will open up a window which will then have a link to a .pdf file that gives more details and vision)? What would the implications be for YOU if you undertook something like this? Who would understand? Who wouldn't? How would they respond? How does that make you feel?

Overall, things are good. Thanks for being a part of what's going on in my life, even if we've never met and you just stumbled upon this blog for the first time today. I hope you've enjoyed your stay, and I hope you come back again. Find a way to get involved. Make a difference. Be engaged.

Beauty close by

Driving to my parents house from the west, you have to drive by this piece of property, probably 100 acres of undeveloped "ranch land." I put the quotes because I've never really seen more than 10 or 15 cows, and most of the property is in a flood plain. I don't know how useable it is for grazing or raising cows or sheep or other livestock, but that 100 acre plot is one of my favorite places in the world.

When my parents built their house in their suburban neighborhood 7 years ago, it was on the growing edge of northeast San Antonio. It was well within the city, accessible to major freeways and all of that, but still separate enough to feel like you weren't in the middle of town. Since then, the area has exploded with shopping centers and gas stations and more track housing than ought to be legal. Except for those 100 acres.

One corner of the property in particular will probably always be one of those memory sweet spots that lives forever in my mind. It's on a gentle rise, so it fills the horizon as you drive past it. Every spring the landscape progresses from blues to yellows to whites with little spots and speckles of reds and orange when the wildflowers bloom in succession. It seems like a piece of Montana, transplanted close by so that I can either stoke my longing for the wilderness or at least continue to believe that I'm a mountain man in my heart.

I'm grateful for the little reminders that even as things drive forward and grow skyward, there is still hope for open spaces and natural beauty. Someday the owner of that property will pass on, and that wonderful piece of property will pass into the hands of someone else. I hope they love it as much as I do. Or I hope that I have enough money to buy 100 acres of woods in the middle of suburban San Antonio.

Speaking the Truth in Love: rightness to the core

When Paul tells his Ephesian listeners that it's time to move from spiritual infancy to spiritual adulthood, he challenges them to the highest level of "rightness."

"Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ." Ephesians 4:15

By speaking the truth in love, we grow up. By not speaking the truth in love, we don't grow up. It's easy for me to see the truth. I'm just wired that way. I can smell the crap a mile away and cut through it quickly. I struggle with the love part. Not the friendship or the respect, but the kind of love that softens the sharpness of tone that the truth can sometimes wield. The truth hurts because usually the time someone needs to hear truth the most is when they're living blindly oblivious to it.

After our small group tonight I had to have a hard conversation with a couple that I've known for almost 2 years. The guy called the church one day and got me on the phone and we talked for over an hour about the hard times he was facing. He and his fiancee at the time came to our group a few weeks later and they've been faithful ever since. They're married now and have a hard marriage. They both bring baggage from previous marriages and hard life issues, and they have a hard time unpacking it.

Before I went to group, I prayed that God would guide my words tonight. We were talking about the role of men and women in marriage, and the couple's baggage was there in the room again, and I felt like I should address it with them. It was a hard conversation before it ever began. How do you gently reveal blindspots? How do you help someone see something that's glaring to everyone else, but blissfully dark to them?

So we went outside and had the conversation in private. I talked with Natalie afterward and I think that what I said to them was truth.

I'm not sure that what I said to them was said with love.

I believe in hard conversations. I think the Church is weakened when we shy away from helping others see the things that are killing them. But tonight I realized, again, why the love part is so important. Without love, words are clanging cymbals; obnoxious noise and meaningless syllables strung together. My friends may have heard truthful words tonight, but I don't know that those words will ever find their place. Love makes the hard truth land gently, so it grows.

Truth is easy to spot, and pointing it out is a cheap gift. Speaking the truth in love is the measure of maturity because it means that the truth spoken is for the benefit of the other party, not simply for the benefit of being right. On some level, my heart was and is to see my friends have a better marriage than they can imagine. But I fear that the truth destroyed tonight, rather than building up.

Personally, this is a lesson hard learned. I've made this mistake before, even recently to much the same result as this time. Culturally, I think this is a balance that I want the Church to wrestle with more publicly and honestly. Like I said before, I think the Church needs to have the hard conversations with the culture, and I think we need to have the hard conversations with ourselves. But the greatest command is not to tell truth. The greatest command is to love. The lines are blurry, because love expects the best and has an obligation to the loved one to help them realize the best. But I've seen the truth spoken in love, and I've seen the miraculous results it brings.

I hope I have the opportunity to make it up to my friends. I hope I have the opportunity to speak love into their lives. I hope that as they see that love, they hear the truth as well.