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Monday, June 29, 2009

The naked eye and sexual ruminations...

I'm not going to lie, I think about sex as much as the next guy.  Sometimes it's sinful and perverted, and I try to repent with sackcloth and ashes.  But often times, it's healthy curiosity for the purpose to deeper discovery.  Sex is either talked about too much and handled frivolously and hastily, much like a child would treat a priceless heirloom if you handed it to him as a drooling toddler.  Trying to bring something precious like sex down to the bottom shelf of profane commonality has done much to dilute the dignity of the subject.  

The other treatment is the one in which it stays so unspeakable and untouchable that is somehow turns into the "word which we do not utter".   It is handled with kid gloves and talked about with such fear and trepidation that pubescent boys and girls bashfully, yet gleefully, speak with hushed whispers and shot-gun giggles, blushing at the simple utterance of the word.  It remains un-talked about by the people who should have something substantive to say (Church), and so over-talked about by the ones who should keep their mouths shut (Hollywood).  

I'm not saying I have much to say about the bottomless/topless issue (no pun intended...oh, ok...yes pun intended!), but I'm intrigued with the beautiful created design of God as it relates to human sexuality and the interaction of the sexes as they dance around the issue like Jr. Highers at their first couples dance.

Here are a couple things I thought about last week as it relates to sex....

Human beings are one of the only species to have sex face to face.  Most (99.99999%) have sex face the same direction (I'll allow you to figure that out without me painting a vivid word picture).  There are a couple species of monkeys that have been known to have sex facing each other, but this is a very rare behavioral anomaly.  There also are a few species of whale that engage in face to face intercourse, but other than that, there aren't documented instances in the animal kingdom where animals are wired to have sex looking each other in the eye.

Is anyone else surprised by this unsurprising discovery?  I say unsurprising simply because it makes so much sense that this would be the primary area of distinction between ourselves and the animal kingdom.  It's not that humans can't get creative about their sexual positioning, I'm simply saying that it's most fluid when it takes place as a "face-to-face" encounter...our bodies were created to look at each other while "making love".

It is also intriguing that in the "prostitution industry", whores often do not want to kiss their "whoree" due to the intimate nature of that exchange.  They don't have a problem with traditional sexual intercourse so long as there isn't face to face intercourse.  Which begs the question, "Is kissing even more intimate and erotic than sex?"  I think the answer to that is a shocking, "Yes!"  There is something about looking into each others eyes and tasting someone else's lips that tells us that we are crossing a line of intimacy that mustn't be trespassed or transgressed.  There is something hallowed about this face to face thing.

There are so many options now as it relates to sexuality that keeps people away from each others faces, thus not pricking the universal conscience with awkward shame...
- Oral sex (face to privates)
- Porn (face to pictures)
- Sexting (face to phone)
- Chat rooms (face to text)
- Strip clubs (face to distant face)

Or the most common form of sex in the marriage bedroom...
- Turn off the lights, pull down the shades, pull up the sheets, and close your eyes.  (face to pitch black darkness leaving everything to the imagination because the reality isn't comfortable with face to face nakedness in the light)

I wonder how much we have eliminated the need for the face in sex.  I wonder, even more, how comfortable we've become with virtual sex because of our fear of someone's actual face looking at us while we partake in this blessed pleasure.  What are we afraid of?  What does someone's face expose inside of our heart that makes us blush in embarrassment?  Why is kissing not seen as the most intimate of sexual exchanges?  Why do we have sex in the dark?  What are we so scared to see, what are we scared someone else will see?  

I have a theory.  I always thought people were scared of someone seeing their body.  Though that is partially true, I think people are much more insecure to be seen be the naked eye.  Because the naked eye is so much more sexual than the naked body.

I read a while back that most guys are drawn to porn more for "how the woman is looking at them" than for "the way the woman looks".  The way she stares at him and won't look away.  The way her eyes stay open and her head stays up.  He is used to seeing nothing at worst, a turned head or closed eyes at best.  He's starving to see the woman's face, to see her naked eye.  Because her naked eye is more bewitching that her naked body by far.  

It is not hard to go and find a naked body to appease your fleshly appetite.  But it takes a real man or woman to love someone so well as to win their heart and to win their eyes, to own their face.   When you win the other person's eyes in your marriage, your have won the whole of them.  You have engaged in the quintessential consummation of sexuality.  To actually be with another human, face to face, partaking in the delicacies of delight...this is sex.

We are a "face to face" sexual species for a reason.  And I happen to think it's a good one.  One that we must recover and live out of once again as a human race, who, for some reason, is hell-bent on becoming soulless animals both facing the same direction so as to not feel awkward with the "eternity that has been set within our hearts".   Sexuality seems to be just as much about the naked eye as the naked body.

Donald Miller's thoughts on story...

These are a couple excerpts from Donald Millers new book coming out in September.  It's about our lives as stories and whether our stories are memorable or deplorable.  So many of my hours are deplorable, absolutely deficient of meaning and worthy of being blotted out of all memory...this disturbs me deeply.  Maybe it shouldn't, but I'm not mature enough yet to talk myself out of feeling horrible about my own life's fallow, callow, shallow plot.  It bothers me.  This little collection of writing speaks about these musings.  Every paragraph comes from a different chapter in the book, so don't fuss about the fluidity of the's my fault, not Donald's.  Call it proof texting.


If you watched a movie about a guy who wanted a Volvo and worked for years to get it, 

you probably wouldn’t cry at the end of the movie when he drove off the lot testing the 

windshield wipers. You wouldn’t tell your friends you saw a beautiful movie or go home 

and put a record on and sit in a chair to think about what you’d seen. The truth is you 

wouldn’t even remember that movie a week later, except to feel robbed and want your 

money back. Nobody cries at the end of a movie about a guy who got a Volvo. 

But we spend years living those kinds of stories and expect life to feel meaningful. 

Maybe that’s why we go to so many movies, because our real lives don’t feel meaningful 



The saddest thing about life is you don’t remember half of it. You don’t even remember 

half of half of it. Not even a tiny percentage, if you want to know the truth. I’ve got this 

friend Bob who writes down everything he remembers. If he remembers dropping an ice 

cream cone on his lap when he was seven, he’ll write it down. The last time I talked to 

Bob, he had written more than five hundred pages of memories. He’s the only guy I know 

who remembers his life. He said he captures memories because if he forgets them it’s as 

though they didn’t happen, it’s as though he hadn’t lived the parts he doesn’t remember. 

I thought about that when he said it and I tried to remember something and I 

remembered getting a merit badge in Cub Scouts when I was seven, but that’s all I could 

remember. I got it for helping a neighbor cut down a tree. I’ll tell that to God when He 

asks what I did with my life. I’ll tell Him I cut down a tree and got a badge for it. He’ll 

most likely want to see the merit badge, but I lost it years ago and so when I’m done with 

my story God will probably sit there looking at me wondering what to talk about next. 

God and Bob will probably talk for days. 


You’d think God would just come out and tell us what to do in the Bible. But He 

doesn’t. He mostly tells stories, and He rarely stops the story to say what the point is. He 

just lets the characters and the conflict hang in the air like smoke.


It’s harder being a human than it is being a dog. When I’m at the dog park, I never 

know what to say to the other dog owners. We’re all there so our dogs can exercise, but 

the awkward conversation kills me. The other day I asked what kind of dog one of the 

owners had and they said something, and then I asked the other and they said their dog 

was a Lab like mine. I said Lucy looked like a seal when she’s wet and her ears are 

pinned back, but nobody laughed. And I stood there feeling uncomfortable while our 

dogs sniffed each other’s poop without the slightest hint of self-awareness. 

And part of me feels like God is more pleased with the dogs’ interaction than He 

is with ours, as though they are the ones having fun with the scenes He gave them, and 

we are still trying to figure it out. 


There you have it.  As I read his brainstorming about the power of story, particularly the human story, I was laid bare once again with my own responsibility--that is my ability to respond to known realities--to tend to the plot of my story with delicate care and custom precision.  So many of my days are "exploits in killing time".  This is bothersome, really, really bothersome.

Even in obscurity, I want the passing of my life to be measured in meaningful frames, each frame giving meaning to the next, moving methodically and melodically like a river's current.  I'm not looking for explosive adventure, I'm looking for a constancy of consciousness that finds itself swimming the marrow instead of wading in the shallow.  

Here's the the storied life.

My good friend, Soul.

Not sure what to say this morning.  I'm tired and lost for words and the emotion to carry them to the next level.

I think I've just given and given and given lately and now I'm givin' out!  Not givin' up, just givin' out.  It's funny how output catches up to you without input.  It's crazy how uploading starts to crash me if it isn't accompanied with good downloading.  

My sleep patterns have been all whacked out for some reason, and that doesn't help.  Is there a diagnosis for "Restless body syndrome"?  I wish it were only my legs.

I felt myself getting angry yesterday at life.  This shows me that I'm striving and straining, instead of relaxing and resting.  My wick gets shorter and shorter with every big push, every sacrificial "extra mile" I ask my soul to make without replenishment.  

My soul has always been good to me, though I don't think I've returned the favor.  It's always pouring out and putting out regardless of my reciprocation.  I take advantage of my soul, though.  It turns the other cheek all the time, taking one for the team and biting its tongue.  I can sense when my soul is getting neglected because even things that should bring me joy, don't.  It's like I can cognitively recognize their joyous value, but emotionally I stand estranged from the reality of it.  I'm beside myself, literally.  

I'm hoping that the remainder of this day will take a turn toward refreshment of some sort.  I feel like more than not, lately, life feels like turning into a sun with a dusty windshield.  My soul needs to rest and be tended to.

Like the Psalmist said in Psalm 130 or 131, "Like a weaned child is my soul within me."  How I long to say that soon.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

The recent glut of writing...

Many of my posts the last few days have been just little collections of writing that I've penned over the years.  I want to make sure I get them archived in my blog so that I don't forget them or neglect their original invitation to my heart.

I'm great at writing things that I forget weeks later and it's healthy for me to read and re-read the things that God has spoken over me and into me throughout the years.  Like Israel, I struggle to remember his voice and quickly lean into my own understanding if I'm not vigilant about my history with Him and the clear truth he has spoken in times past.

I need to emphasize that this blog is not primarily for the edification of the readers, but the edification of the writer.  I must write for my own heart's sake.  I must declare my dreams.  I must verbalize my visions, else I die.  I must fight for words to hang my heart on.  

I also need to emphasize that this blog is ultimately for my daughters.  They don't care about my thoughts and passions now in their youth, but I'm writing in hopes that when they look back into their past to make sense of their future, they will find a father's book of life to lean into and learn from.  I write for them.  I want to collect all my writings and put it into a book for them at their high school or college graduation called, "My dad used to say..."  I know this might sound strange, but I want it to be a book that is broken up into topics so if they encounter something wondering what I think about the subject or situation and how I handled it along the way, they will be able to read my thoughts concerning the issue.  I have to assume that my views will change and mature over the years, but I think it will still be useful to them to see my growth and my limping logic, or rather theo-logic.

So if at times my thoughts seem random, lacking context, know that my vision for this is rooted in something much more macro than micro and maybe it will grant you some elasticity with which to flex around my frantic and frenetic renderings.  Thank you in advance for your merciful treatment of my heart.  And for those of you that may be merciless in the coming years, thank you for your critiquing vision that leads to my story's refining revision.

On to the macro...

117 of my favorite words...

1.       Accepting
2.       Active
3.      Alive
4.      Alert
5.      Amazed
6.      Anticipating
7.      Astonished
8.      Awed
9.      Bizarre
10.     Bold
11.     Brave
12.     Broken
13.     Captivated
14.     Caring
15.     Clear
16.     Compassionate
17.     Confident
18.     Conqueror
19.     Consistent
20.     Contagious
21.     Convinced
22.     Courageous
23.     Creative
24.     Curious
25.     Daring
26.     Dedicated
27.     Deep
28.     Desperate
29.     Devoted
30.     Different
31.     Dreaming
32.     Dynamic
33.     Encouraging
34.     Enduring
35.     Energetic
36.     Enthusiastic
37.     Excited
38.     Explosive
39.     Faithful
40.     Fanatical
41.     Fearless
42.     Firm
43.     Fixated
44.     Focused
45.     Forgiven
46.     Free
47.     Gentle
48.     Genuine
49.     Glad
50.     Giving
51.     Growing
52.     Hopeful
53.     Humble
54.     Hungry
55.     Imaginative
56.     Inviting
57.     Joyful
58.     Learning
59.     Longing
60.     Loyal
61.     Loving
62.     Mesmerized
63.     Merciful
64.     Moldable
65.     Obsessed
66.     Open
67.     Optimistic
68.     Passionate
69.     Patient
70.     Peaceful
71.     Persevering
72.     Persistent
73.     Powerful
74.     Praying
75.     Pure
76.     Purposeful
77.     Radical
78.     Real
79.     Ready
80.     Refined
81.     Refreshing
82.     Relentless
83.     Rejoicing
84.     Rejuvenating
85.     Renewing
86.     Resolute
87.     Revived
88.     Revolutionary
89.     Sacrificial
90.     Seeking
91.     Sizzling
92.     Soft
93.     Steady
94.     Strong
95.     Submissive
96.     Supple
97.     Surprised
98.     Taken
99.     Trusting
100.    Unashamed
101.    Undignified
102.    Unusual
103.    Unrestricted
104.    Unshakable
105.    Urgent
106.    Usable
107.    Vibrant
108.    Vulnerable
109.    Warm
110.    Warrior
111.    Wild
112.    Willing
113.    Working
114.    Worshipper
115.    Uncontainable

116.    Undefeated
117.    Zealous

Taking up where Jesus left off...

Can there be anything so precious

as a heart set free?

Eyes released from darkness seeing afresh

The starkness of life’s true reality…

our spirit’s liberty.

My life was meant to count…

To amount to something more than chores

and boring motions leading to

Hollow laughter

where nothing matters.


Can you gaze through the haze?

The maze of confusion and delusions

Polluting original beauty and glory

Stealing the story we were created

To live, to breathe, to be.

Will you let it slip through your fingers

Continuing to linger in the shadow

Instead of feeling life in the marrow?


Will you surrender to resignation

And isolation filled with hesitation

Or will you stand and fight

Against the blight of sin’s curse

For better or worse leaving your heart

On the battle field wielding your sword

With the dream of freedom

Beating in your breast.

What could mean more than this kind of life?


This is for the freedom fighters…my savage kingdom-companions.

Come, River of God...

Holy Fountain,

overflow and

overthrow my tension,

my pretension,

not to mention my vain

inventions of You.

Who sees through to the true.

where few care to go

to get to know the glow

of my deep heart.

Rushing River

come and rage over my rage

fill every page of my

soul with the Calm that comes

from the palm of your hand

where my nail came to land

as Your Father had planned

before time began.

Healing Stream,

come and clean the places

that scream for revival

where nothing can rival

your glory.

your story.

that shrouds all the gory

that lingers in silence

feeding the violence

that flows in my spirit

I can practically hear it

yelling to harm me

then turning to charm me

away from the river,

the only Life-giver

that seeks to deliver,

this quivering, shivering,

trembling, rambling, rippling

Brook of Jesus, Your Child.

Come, Refreshing River.


I continue to struggle with the whole idea of "learning".  It seems that it can be the greatest enemy to "loving" at times.  You would think that learning more would translate into loving more...but often times, it only makes it more sterile and mechanical. Pretty soon you don't treat God like a person to be loved, but a subject matter to be learned.


In life, the more I learn about someone, the more there is to love of them.  But I guess I don't even use that term to explain what is really taking place.  I usually say, "The more I get to know them..."  That is what is missing in Christian education...people are learning more about God, but not getting to know him.  Does that make sense?


It's easy to start viewing him through constructs and systems of thoughts instead of as a person wanting true friendship with you.  When that happens, you don't engage in deep worship...rather you get lost in deep thinking.  I don't have to tell you how over-thinking can kill relationships on a human level, all the more so with Jesus.  Yes, we must have correct doctrine in order to know him accurately, but we can't let knowledge replace knowing.


All that to say...I can’t let information to replace intimacy.

We need grace...

Wings of Grace

Cover this place

With the shadow of Jesus’ arms

With the echo of Calvary’s charm 

Heralding the call to all to fall 

Back in love with their First Love

Who loved first and awakened

Our thirst for more than

The boring chore of religion.


Son of Grace

Unveil your face

To be seen by the humble

Who tremble and stumble

And stutter and mutter

In the presence of such beauty

The Lamb slain in pain

To rain down love from above.

How can it be?


Whisper of Grace

Fill my ears until tears

Well up in gratitude

At the magnitude of your faithfulness

Shrouding my filthiness.

Raise your voice of mercy

And unearth me from the soil of sin

That I’m buried in which

Seeks to kill me and fill me with me

Instead of you.


Downpour of Grace

Rain down on this place

And find a home in our hearts

That roam in the dark

Trying to cover the scars

With lovers who are

Weak to clean the places that scream

For redemption.

Wash over our hurts,

Recover our hearts,

We need you.

Monday, June 22, 2009

It's not automatic, or accidental...

The following words call for an active faith family.  The prefix attached to each of these words assumes that someone will take the word that follows the prefix and press it into the heart of another.  It’s exciting to wonder what the church would be like if these words became our lifestyle…hmmm?

Embalm – to make fragrant

Embattle – to fortify and arm

Emblaze – to light up, to set on fire

Embody – to incarnate, to give body to

Embolden – to give courage to

Embosom – to embrace, to cherish, to surround or shelter

Embrace – to clasp in the arms

Employ – to make use of, to call into action

Empower – to authorize, to enable

Enable – to make able, to make possible

Enamor – to fill with love, to captivate

Encamp – to place in the camp

Enchant – to charm greatly, to delight

Encounter – to meet with

Encourage – to give hope, to give heart

Endear – to make dear or beloved

Endow – to provide a talent

Enfold – to wrap up

Engage – to bind oneself to by promise

Enjoy – to make joyful or happy

Enkindle – to make blaze up, to arouse

Enlighten – to give light to the truth, to reveal

Enliven – to make active, vivacious, interesting, cheerful

Ennoble – to give nobility to, to honor

Enrapture – to fill with pleasure and delight

Enrich – to give greater value to, to adorn

Enthrall – to put or hold under strong influence, to fascinate or captivate

Entrust – to turn over to, to assign care of

Envelop – to cover completely, to hide

My burning passion...

The call goes out...


Critical important

significant vital pressing

central imperative chief major

momentous crucial fundamental key primary basic necessary indispensable

requisite serious dangerous grave noteworthy considerable large

historic earth-shattering

burning foremost

prime principal

the crux


The response is life altering

“what is the most important thing in life?”

I can change the future

            It’s impossible to know the future, but you can change it.  History is made when people think about the future, when they live their lives on purpose for something that truly lasts…something that endures.  This question of what is most important in life has sent my mind on an exploration to find the  “pearl of great price”.  Much like the parable, it has captured me so that I long to risk all and surrender all to say I found it and cherished it.  The flurry of activity in my life keeps me from reminding myself that there is something central…something core to be sought for and lived for.  I immediate look around me and ask myself, “What lasts forever?”   In a world of spoiling and fading, what has enduring value beyond my life, beyond this life?  There is only one thing.

People never die

            I’ve come to the conclusion that the most important thing in life, once you come to know Jesus, is people.  They will never die…their souls live either happily ever after or horrifically ever after.  You may say, “what about the glory of God…isn’t that central?”  I’m not debating that, I’m just trying to get to how.  How do we bring God the most glory?  Worship songs, Bible Reading, Camp attendance, Prayer meetings, tithing…what makes him come alive?  I was thinking about the words of Jesus, “I have come to seek and save those who were lost!”  Pretty clear…his mission was settled and his vision was cast.  He came seeking people…broken people, lifeless people, empty people, busy people, successful people, mean people, wretched people, happy people, apathetic people…he came for people.  His life was people.  His time was spent for and with people.  He thought about people, healed people, conversed with people, asked people questions, pursued people, challenged people, invited people into life, attended parties with people, hung out with people, discipled people, cried with people, laughed with people, and ultimately died for people.  You don’t just die for causes, unless the cause involves people you deeply care about.  Jesus didn’t give up on people.  He always was looking for ways to get to know them so that he could target his encouragement with custom made words that would awaken the spirit of the listener.  He looked for friends…he made friends.  He balled over his friend who died.  He shared most of his adult life in ministry with 12 close friends…it’s like he knew he couldn’t live without close friends.  But he only made close friends so that he could serve PEOPLE with them.  He didn’t form a clique, he took the friendship to places of ministry.  The friendship had a purpose beyond growing closer.  It expanded to serving together…which quite frankly  is where memories are made and hearts fulfilled.  Don’t you ever wonder why you’re busy, but rarely fulfilled?  It’s because it is “more blessed to give than to receive.”  Whenever something stops at getting…it rots.  That’s why the Christian life for a good majority of Christians frankly “rots”.

 Greatest fear

              Because of the call to love people and make a difference in their lives, it would only make sense that one of my greatest fears is to come to the end of my life and realize that I had little impact on the souls of people.  Again…when I think future, I make history.  And when I talk of making a difference, I’m not talking about the ego-centric motive of being remembered and praised for accomplishment, I’m referring to having the basic need to know that your life mattered for something deeply and dearly.  Too many live for themselves and wonder why they feel a massive disconnect and possibly even thoughts like, “What’s the point of living?”  Suicidal thoughts aren’t only felt by the manic-depressives.  They are experienced by all those who long for eternal value and find themselves washed up on the shores of superficiality.  You can’t live there for long before you are haunted with thoughts of Confusion and Emptiness.  Imagine being on your deathbed someday and looking back only to find that most of your life was spent on job performance, making money and impressing people.  You would die a thousand deaths before took your last breath.  In fact, most people are already dead…they’re just waiting for their bodies to catch up.  Isn’t it funny that when you spend your life trying to impress everyone…you rarely make any deep and lasting impression on anyone?  

Freeing people

            I was lying in bed once with my wife and our conversation drifted to the subject of freedom, particularly how hard it is to live abundantly without freedom of the heart.  As we were talking, my head pounded with the thought, “People need to be freed, and I intend to free them!”  It was almost like I didn’t say it.  Up to that moment, I was fighting to stay awake, from that moment on, I was fighting to go to sleep.  “What is whispered in your ear, shout from the rooftops!”  What an incredible set of words our Lord left us to digest.  I sometimes wonder if I miss the blessing of revelation because I don’t take it up to the rooftop and shout at the top of my lungs what God has laid on my heart.  From the mouth of God to the heart of the child, to the lungs of the ambassador, to the lips of the preacher…”Free People!”   Do I intend to do it?  Sometimes based on my stamina, I wonder.  I get so discouraged so quickly.  I lose heart one lap into the race.  This is where Paul’s final plea grips my heart, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith!”  Fight, Finish, Keep.  Three things that I lose sight of in this battle…and before I know it, survival become my primary goal, not people.  Many days I wake up and feel alone, overwhelmed, and insufficient.  I don’t feel capable of changing lives or the future.  I wonder if my efforts are futile and my energy spent in vain.  I see little fruit and lots of hurtles.  I question my calling and whether the task is greater than my ability.  But the glorious invitation remains, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for me?”  God’s pounding heart for people seems to cadence like a drum in my spirit and I begin to move toward the sound only to find a happy and holy God smiling at the other end of the voice.  With a thunderous whisper he leans forward and says, “Heaven awaits your arrival.”

Heaven will satisfy

            We wonder that though don’t we?  Why are we so resistant to leave?  Why aren’t we more drawn to the golden streets and the crystal sea and the glittering mansions in the celestial city?  Deep inside we don’t believe that heaven is as good as what we see around us outside the freedom from sin.  We question whether our true desires will find fulfillment or if we will be disappointed at the gift of eternal life.  We dread the thought of spending forever singing, bowing, singing some more and then going to our sterile mansion of gold in our sterile robe of white.  Something inside wants to get dirty, run wild and yell loud.  Something desires exploration, conquest and accomplishment.  Something yearns for laughter, fellowship and wrestling.  Picnics on the mountaintops, canoe trips down a quiet river, campouts without mosquitoes, slumber  parties with comfortable pajama’s, competition among peers, adventure involving unknowns, grilling out with friends, flying without the assistance of an airplane, going on a walk with Jesus, plunging the depths of the ocean without scuba gear and not needing to come up for air.  Grabbing a dolphin by the fin and slicing through water like a knife through butter, getting alone and listening to  God’s heaven breath with holy lungs, creating games never before thought of, dancing with friends around the throne of God, jumping with the disciples in mosh pit, going jogging with friends through the rain forests, playing sports with childhood heroes, enjoying new creations of the Lord never before experienced on earth.  THIS is what we WONDER.  Is it worth it to give it all for God?

            I can’t wait to spend time with people I touched and had a part in changing.  I wonder what it will be like to have people come up to you and say, “Thanks for opening my eyes and never growing tired in the battle.”   You see, everything you give and every moment you live will be remembered for all eternity.  I know that there won’t be any tears in heaven…but I do think there will be the ability to look back in reflection at what could have been.   Nothing done in God’s name for his glory will be irresponsibly forgotten.  Each act of love invested in the soul of another will be rewarded.  People will remember you,  Paul even says that people in his ministry were his glory and crown of whom he would glory  in Christ Jesus.  He always seemed to value people above any other priority.  He lost sleep over people, He stayed up through the watches of the night praying for people, he worried about people’s growth, he was jealous for people, he fought for the hearts of people, he spent time writing letters to people while in prison, “I never stop thanking God for you always remembering you in my prayers day and night”….wow! 

People need to be freed, and I intend to do it!

            This collection of thoughts was burning out my insides; I had to get it out.  Sometimes I feel as if I’m going to explode with pent up passion!  I want my life to end with an “!”, not a “?”.   I have been called to raise up an army of people who love the Lord with heart, soul, mind and strength, and their neighbor as themselves.  It seems to me that unless we are asking ourselves what is most important, we will never engage in the eternal.  Our lives will be spent instead of invested and our hearts will die young and live cold.  It is no secret that unless your heart finds pleasure in what God finds important, it will find it elsewhere.   And as the Psalmist so appropriately writes, “Better is one day in your house(pleasure) than a thousand elsewhere.” 

            I want to free people with my freedom.  It won’t be easy, it’s sure to be lonely, but that is where eternal pleasure is experienced.  God’s smile will be my pleasure.  I want to free people…I want to free people.  I am compelled to.  I must.  I want others to join me, but that is not a prerequisite.  People need to be freed, and by God’s grace, I intend to do it!” 

Trailer for the movie of my church...

(based on a true story)

Once upon an eternity…

A band of simple folk gathered as one…

They dreamed with the heart of a child

Reaching for nothing short of the miraculous

Their passion was contagious.

Their courage was infectious.

The life of their heart was the heart of their life.

But the heart has its enemies.

And this growing band of dreamers…

Encountered a resistance beyond their wildest imaginings

The hope of their community rested on their bravery in battle

The fate of each heart hung in the balance

The eternal destiny of rested on the courage of this fellowship.

This was a battle they must fight.

This was a battle they must win.

It has always taken the holy rebellion of a humble few

To birth the revolution of the world.

It’s coming soon…

It’s already here…