Cement or Snow?

So, I went to California for Christmas and it was warm. By warm I mean that it was 75 degrees on Christmas day and we barbecued outside for our Christmas dinner. Ironically enough, it snowed in Dallas. For the first time in like 11 years, there was a white Christmas in the place that I now call my home. At first I thought that it was Texas' version of snow, a misty white liquid that lands on the ground and stays for a whopping 3-4 hours before being whisked away in the light of the sun. But, as I understand it, it was the real deal- snow drifts, shovels, the whole bit. To be honest, I am a little disappointed that I missed it- but it did get me thinking.

People all across the city traipsed through the snow, leaving footprints where their shoes had once been, and within a few short days, the impact that their feet had made on the surrounding area was completely erased. It was as if they had never been there. They had fun, throwing snowballs at each other, diving headfirst into man-made mountains of snow only to have any proof of their snowy existence washed away in the rising heat that Texas was sure to bring back to the scene. And I wondered, for how many of us, myself included, is this indicative of our lives? How many of us go through life leaving footprints we are sure will count for something, only to have difficulty, heat, and tough times wash them away as time progresses? I wonder if the impact that I've been hoping to make is actually being made in a medium that will not count past the pictures I take and stories I am able to tell about "this one time..."

To be honest, it reminds me of the story in Matthew where Jesus likens those who listen to His words and don't put them to practice to those who build their house on sand, and those who do listen and put to practice the things Jesus says to those who build on stone. As the story says, waters crash against the house, and depending on its foundation, the house either stands or collapses. Now, I am sure that the builder of the house wanted his creation to stand as a bastion of architectural success for generations to look upon and be impressed (and yes, this is all extrapolation), and wanted his story to count for something. While I am sure he wanted this to be the case, he chose to build on a location that was not fit to stand against the onslaught of what life and nature would throw at it. And so...it didn't stand. Is the same true of our impact on this life, our footprint?

Are we making tracks in the snow, only to have them washed away when waters come and the temperature rises? Are we seemingly building monuments for ourselves (and ostensibly for God) that won't last past the next rainfall that inevitably comes to all men (and women) in life? Are we doing anything that matters, or simply making tracks so we can take snapshots, look back on our lives and say we remember what it was like to make an impact, all the while wondering if any actual impact was made.

Conversely, cement is that which takes the footprint that you have made and keeps it for all eternity. As the heat comes, instead of melting or buckling under the pressure, it actually solidifies and creates something to look back upon and hold up for the world to see that your impact is more than just in story, but in reality before them. It points to a real experience that people can point to and say, "look what God has done." When the waters come, the cement stays because the impact made is without question.

So, in 2010, as we all push to be different, I find myself asking, "is my footprint built in snow or cement?" What would happen if you asked the same question?

Image sourced from here

If Music Festivals Were Churches...

I went out to Dfest last night, and must say that I had an absolute blast. The opportunity to be surrounded by hundreds of thousands of other people who have one thing on their mind, the pursuit of good music, is absolutely amazing. Everyone there was a "friend" to everyone else, simply because we shared a common goal- music. People I had not seen in ages came out of the woodwork, and people I had never met stood side by side with me and sang at the top of our collective lungs. The streets of Tulsa ran free with love and acceptance and I loved it.

This morning as I thought about all that I had experienced, I realized how much of a typology of the Church last night's gathering could be. It was a gathering of people of all races, genders, age ranges, sexual preferences, religions, and cultures who were there for an express purpose. They came with their brokenness, their failures, their struggles and their successes, and were all dedicated to this pursuit. What if the Church were more like that? What if we could stand side by side with the broken without the fear that their perceived "filth" or sin would rub off on us and sully our previously unmarred appearance? What if we could accept people for where they were while letting our ife and conversation push them towards all that God has created them to be? What if love really did have the power to change and what if loving extravagantly really did bring about extravagant results in people's lives? How different would our evangelistic outreaches be if they were built out of love and showing Christ's to the world as opposed to an increase in our "salvation" numbers for the week/month/year? What if we really believed that it was God's job to change people and our job to love them and present them with the truth of the Gospel in a way that doesn't condemn them but draws them into the "Amazing Love" of God?

Love as if all the world depends on it- because it does.

Pursue. Original.