Monkeys...

It's been a long and relatively rough road for me of late. You've read of it in the frustrated ministrations of blogs of old, but even those have not fully expressed the level to which I have found myself pressed. It ends, we all know that- at some point, but it never ends exactly as or when we expect it. So, I write this from the other side of victory. i write this from the side where victory is promised though not yet realized, and from a place where promises are still that, things to which you cling to- oftentimes desperately- lest despair overtake you. I write from a place of ever increasing brokenness, knowing that only in denying my ability to put myself back together again will I ever be found in a place of real and genuine wholeness.

If it's true what the Bible says, and all the promises of God really are "yes and amen," then we can as much hold to those promises as we can anything that is "tangible" and "real" on the other side (the fulfilled side) of the promise. But holding to a promise isn't where it stops.

I remember growing up and playing on the monkey bars, you know those things jutting out from the ground in all their linear metal glory, which enabled you to how off you ape-like prowess, often to the delight and admiration (or so I thought) of whatever adolescent females were playing on the nearby swings or see saw (teeter totter to some-not sure who, but I heard Ned Flanders say it once). As you got older, you further attempted impressification (not a word- I know) through super human feats like pull ups and such, but that's farther in the future than this analogy allows. No, ape-like agility is where we currently find ourselves.

To those not accustomed yo or familiar with the Monkey Bars (first of all, I am sorry for your loss- they were awesome), the ultimate trick was to keep moving forward. Take one hand and grasp the next bar, shift weight and grab the next, shift weight and grab the next, and the next and... until you reach the other side and start the blessed process all over again. In retrospect, I'm not sure why they were such fun, but I did absolutely love those things. Anyway- holding and hanging on in one place was not advised because eventually gravity would win. Holding on to the bar, secure though it was, eventually led you to feel the eternal weight of the world pulling down on you- so you kept moving. Was the aforementioned weight gone? By no means, but now you had an accomplishable goal a few inches in front of you, followed by another and another, and another until you found yourself at the end and able to stand up and rest.

What if the promises are just like that? What if, even though we know them to be solid and filled with substance, backed by the full weight and authority of God, we aren's just supposed to hold onto them. What if we're to move? We see an opportunity so we seize it and move forward, if only a few inches, until another one appears. We follow this (occasionally menial, trite and sometimes confusing) pathway of repetition until we find ourselves at the end and still holding on to the promise, but now with stronger arms and a bolder will then we had before.

We've now seen the promise become more than just a distant hope, it has literally been the thing to which we have held, that which has moved us forward and kept us from falling into an abyss of unfulfilled dreams and broken possibilities. Though reaching the end of this particular set of monkey bars is not the final destination, we do find ourselves in a place where we can rest, look back and realize how great is our God.

Listen to the ass

For some strange reason this morning, I felt compelled to read the story of Balaam and his donkey, actually, for the purposes of shock value and the fact that I can actually get away with it if I use Old English, I read again the story of Balaam and his ass. It's one of those stories that you probably know if you've been a christian for any length of time, especially if you were raised in church like me. Because of that, however, I think it is also one of those stories that few people actually read for themselves. I decided to no longer be one of those people, so I read it.

Here's the basic recap... Balaam is headed to Moab with the messengers from the Moabite king because he got scared of the Israelites. He thinks they're going to wipe him off the face of the planet because there are so many of them and wants Balaam to pronounce a curse on them so he can get rid of them. Balaam agrees to go with the guys after some crafty negotiating and wakes up the next morning to make the (presumably) long trek to the king. On the way an Angel of the Lord is standing in his way ready to kill him, but his donkey three times stops and occasionally causes him injury to keep him from going on. Balaam gets mad at his donkey each time because he can't see the impending doom that is feet in front of him. Finally, the donkey speaks:

What have I done to you to make you beat me these three times?"

29 Balaam answered the donkey, "You have made a fool of me! If I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you right now."

30 The donkey said to Balaam, "Am I not your own donkey, which you have always ridden, to this day? Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?"
"No," he said.

First of all, does anyone else find it strange that Balaam doesn't even flinch when his Donkey (made capital because it is now his proper name) starts yammering at him? Is this a part of normal course in ancient Israel? Do people regularly sit and have chats with their animals about the matters of the day? Man, are we missing out. Think of all the wonderful things your pets could say- why they chewed up the furniture, why they chase their tail, why they just don't like your significant other...the list is endless. But alas, we don't. So sad.

Ok, enough with the randomness. After the Donkey speaks, the Lord opens up Balaam's eyes and he sees the angel standing in the road with his sword raised and finally gets it. He apologizes profusely and vows to turn back if it will appease an angry God (funny what you'll do when faced with you own mortal peril). God tells him to go on but only say what He wants him to say.

Here's the thing that sticks out to me as I am sure it has stuck out to thousands upon thousands of people before me- the Donkey. Here was a part of Balaam's everyday life that God was desperately trying to communicate to Balaam through, but he was so set on pursuing his own path and his own course of action that he never realized that his own demise was drawing nigh (see, I told you I was going to stick with some Olde English). How often is that the case with me?

I have a plan. I have a direction in which I am headed and I am dead set on getting there come hell or highwater, but things derail me. So, instead of necessarily assessing where I am or why the thing has been derailed, I get back on the horse (or Donkey) and plod along (please note the continual equestrian references) hoping that maybe this time will be better. Things stay the same and I try again, never realizing that perhaps a change of course is necessary. "I mean, it seemed like a good idea and direction at the time, so how come it isn't working? Why can't I find the break that I'm looking for? I know God said to do (fill in the blank) so, now what?" These are some of the questions I have posed of late and often to a deafening wall of silence from the Jesus (pronounced hay-soos for those of you wondering). But what if the silence is an indication that I'm missing something? What if the fact that each of these things that are not working out the way I thought that they should is not a sign that more faith is required to persevere, but rather a sign that something new is needed? my father always said to us, "don't get to be forty and look back on your life and realize that you missed out or messed up because you weren't listening to what God told you to do."

I had a guy come up to me at City Worship a few weeks ago. Now nornmally I am hesitant to have random people come up and want to pray with me. I'm not caught up in the whole transferrence of spirits thing, it's more because I like my Jesus (pronounced Jesus) time to be my time without any external incursion. But, he came up to me and asked me if he could pray with me. I said yes. After praying and as he was walking away, he turned to me and said, "sometimes you have to just keep digging until you find water." I said the requisite "thank you" and possibly even an "amen" and then he left. Later, as I thought about what he said, I realized I had missed out on the core of the message in the simple words. When digging a well, a well digger (the acutal title for the job) may have to try several locations before he strikes water. All the time he's digging, he has to believe that this one (or when it's proven to be dry- the next one) will be the spot for the water he's been searching for. But through all of that, he cannot (for you Kelsey) stop digging. He can't get frustrated and throw up his hands because it didn't work out the first few times- he has to keep pushing on and trying new things when what he's trying doesn't yield any results. So too with us.

When what you're doing doesn't seem to be getting you anywhere, try something new. But remember to be cognizant of the everything around you because God is probably speaking to you through things and people that you weren't necessarily looking or listening for. May I always be aware, oh Lord, of your voice, in whatever form it comes.

Oh yeah, the other thing that has been sticking out to me of late is the concept that as Jesus gets big in your life, everything else seems to be insignificant. I heard it again for the first time from a mentor friend of mine, then again in church on Sunday, and then again from Laura's blog entitled Full in His Face. I could go into more detail about that concept, but she does a fabulous job so go read what she said. Actually, just go ahead and subscribe to all her blogs. Love ya Foot!

D-$

Views from the Vagabond

So, every morning I get an e-mail from some random person in some random state with a bunch of quotes designed to inspire me to accomplish great things. It's really one of the greatest things you can imagine. I mean, every morning (yep, even including Saturday and Sunday) I get to hear from some of the world's and history's most influential and impacting people- not a bad deal. Anyway (please note the absence of the letter s from the preceding word- my cause for the week is gramattical correctness), today there were a host of quotes from people ranging from Ayn Rand to the incomperable Lucille Ball , but the one that stuck out to me was from the queen of all time television herself- Madame O. Yep, Oprah Winfrey in a recent issue of O magazine (I say recent, but I have no idea as there was no date attached) said the following: "Understand that the right to choose your own path is a sacred privilege. Use it. Dwell in possiblity." What stuck out most to me was the latter part of that quote, "dwell in possibility."

If anyone knows me, they know that I try to be big on seeing possibility out of the bleakest and most desire of circumstances- including my own. Sure, I get frustrated and want to throw in the towel on occasion, but by and large, I try to hold onto hope (things are gonna get better- Thank you TV singers) even when things seem hopeless. I mean ultimately it's what little we can hold on to when all else seems to fail. For those of you that do not know this about me, I have been basically homeless for the past several months (and by basically, I mean I have been). Now I don't mean homeless in the sense that I have been despondent or living on the street corner begging for change, no I simply mean I have been in a pretty consistent state of transition for the better part of 7 months. It's been humbling to say the least. Currently I reside on a couch at a friend's house who has been kind enough to open his doors to me, the vagabond from Brooklyn. I love it and I hate it.

Recently, this friend of mine and I had a conversation about my current state and why I was in it. My only answer boiled down to one word- hope. I know that the outside of this present circumstance seems bleak and dire, but I know that ultimately there is hope. I have a job, and I love it even if it isn't paying me as much as I could be elsewhere. I am getting to create something where there once was nothing- it's exhilirating. I am surrounded by friends of the highest calliber who do nothing but support me in all that I do (ergo my current living situation) and I am on the path of something great. I don't entirely know what that is or what it looks like, but I know that I am.

Countless times I have been asked why I don't simple get a different job and start afresh. Get my own place, get off the couch and be a responsible adult. Again- hope. There is an inward hope that somehow I have made the right decision. I mean, I just know it. Starting your own something is never easy. Deciding to fly in the face of convention is unorthodox at best, insane at worst. But, nevertheless I know it's right. I know that to continue to plod along after a dream that is continuing to take shape as I live it is what I am supposed to do. I strive for a seemingly unattainable goal, and that keeps me hungry. I want to see the world changed. I want arts and music to sweep the world in such a way that people can not help but be changed by its influences. I want to see lives made better by the others they come into contact with. It's impossible to see that fully realized in my lifetime- I get that- and that's what keeps me striving for its attainment, the hope that I will see some part of it in my now.

Here's my bottom line. I will continue to strive for that which sometimes seems to only make sense in my head. I will be tempered by experiences and the friends around me who are good enough to support me and to be honest at the same time. I am committed to the pursuit of a vision and the dedication to a dream even if I don't always know what exactly that dream or vision is. I am committed to pursuing purpose and to not giving up because things get difficult. I've been homeless, and it's been liberating because it has taught me the value of friendship and the value of hope. I seek to constantly dwell in possibility.


D-$

You're the wake in my morning
the dream in my sleep
You're my everything
and nothing is found when I speak

You move me to words
only silence conveys
you're what opens and captures
my heart to be free

I feell like I'm fighting for every inch of your heart
on a battlefield of memories
across painful seas that won't part

In a press for the moment
As I contend for the chance
to allow your soul to move me
to let our hearts dance

Because brushing past my lies
are lips that speak to what's inside
And as I fall into your arms
there I lose all my disguise

Corners

Silent, questioning, she wondered
aloud and tried to find
the answers to her queries
and end to troubled mind
Though beginning was her journey
neverending was her search
long necked tower as her steeple
rock and blues her hymns of church

and we stood there on the corner
Superstar and saints in wait
deciphering tomorrow
while unfolding brittle faith

She spoke to me of striving
by strength and faith to contend
for the secret silence angels speak
that trumpet worlds without an end

I told her of my falling when she asked about my faith
a momentary meeting
of humanity and grace

I told her that through failure
flowing gently from the cross
is a prayer that claims forgiveness
salvation for the lost

And we paused while looking upward
towards a future we can't see
we dared to dream forgiveness
and in the still, heard small voice speak