The LORD is still teaching me patience. Even this statement tells me that his patience endures through example. Michael Taylor, a longtime friend, mentor, and confidant posted a video recently which has been wearing on me. You can read more from Michael at http://michaeltaylor.cc/
I am unable to discern any single purpose for posting this item. I have been affected on many levels. Was I patient with my children as their youthful exuberance repeated questions, not so much to be answered, but as a cry for my attention? Am I listening when others speak, or am I already forming my response, as they speak. Are others as important as "me"? What does my life say to "them"? Are others (thoughts, needs, hurts, desires) not just as pressing as my own?
Ann Voskamp, another of my electronic mentors, (http://www.aholyexperience.com/) relays her thought that every bush is ablaze with the glory of God, if we would but notice. This thought slows me down (on my good days) enough to allow me to see the miracles around me, to hear the magic of sound and explore the unending myriad of color. And see life!
LORD, forgive my selfish impatience. Help me to see the sparrows. Help me to hear and see others. May I embrace the moment, live in the moment, celebrate you in each moment.
Matt 10:28Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. 29Are not two sparrows sold for a pennyd]" style="line-height: 0.5em; ">[d]? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Monday, October 05, 2009
Kari Jobe - Absolutely Angelic
While I am sure the angels in heaven are never jealous, ... I'll bet they are anxiously anticipating the arrival of this girl! Wow!
Father God,
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, sound as pure, good, and Godly to you the she sounds to me.
Father God,
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, sound as pure, good, and Godly to you the she sounds to me.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Slow me down, Lord
So much to do. So many roadblocks. Stress mounts. Incompetency, failure, and unmet goals fill my thoughts. Then from within, my heart desires to cry out in pain. But I must be still. Still and quiet. I must do the difficult task of soothing the urge to do more. I must cease, instead of pushing myself to labor. I must refrain from the urge for self pity, and hush the push to justify.
And then even before I can hear God's voice I can hear the silence that comes from within this peace. While bowed down the world races over me and in an instant, I am in the presence of God. I grasp in that moment I have hurried ahead and left God behind.
Forgive me, Oh God for thinking I have more (for me) to do, ... than you have for me to do. May I stay near and hear your voice to guide me.
May I find no greater joy than to know I have done your will.
And then even before I can hear God's voice I can hear the silence that comes from within this peace. While bowed down the world races over me and in an instant, I am in the presence of God. I grasp in that moment I have hurried ahead and left God behind.
Forgive me, Oh God for thinking I have more (for me) to do, ... than you have for me to do. May I stay near and hear your voice to guide me.
May I find no greater joy than to know I have done your will.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Will my faith sustain me?
Recently this question haunts me. From the the darkness createdby the present challenges I am burdened with despair (at least in my mind and my ability to understand my circumstances) . Hopelessness is upon me to a point of a feeling of potential physical collapse. I am crying out for direction. Crying out for help. Crying out in feelings of failure. I am weary of praying for patience and seek solution, ... resolve, even if not to my expectation and satisfaction.
Hold on, ...
I don't go to bed hungry. I have fresh water to drink. I have a house that in many countries would be considered worthy of royalty. I don't live in fear of malaria. I am mentally capable and emotionally healthy (yeah, I know what you're thinking). My children are healthy. I have two healthy grandchildren. My wife and I love each other. Just like everybody else, I lost most of my retirement in the recent stock market crash, but feel I can recover some or most of that loss. I have a job. I know I whine too much.
So why can I not seem to balance these matters in a healthy spiritual fashion? Such is the struggle of our earthbound human existence. I am reminded this world is not my home. "In this world you will have trouble" or maybe, "this world is not my home", needs to be my tattoo.
I am spending this morning praying through the congregations "response forms from yesterday's lament service. I was tearful throughout my reading and my prayers. There's a lot of hurting out there. I am not alone. Its not just my faith through which I will endure, ... but, if you will allow it, I will survive with the help of your faith as well.
God forgive me of my faithlessness. YOU are FAITHFUL. I am yours.
Hold on, ...
I don't go to bed hungry. I have fresh water to drink. I have a house that in many countries would be considered worthy of royalty. I don't live in fear of malaria. I am mentally capable and emotionally healthy (yeah, I know what you're thinking). My children are healthy. I have two healthy grandchildren. My wife and I love each other. Just like everybody else, I lost most of my retirement in the recent stock market crash, but feel I can recover some or most of that loss. I have a job. I know I whine too much.
So why can I not seem to balance these matters in a healthy spiritual fashion? Such is the struggle of our earthbound human existence. I am reminded this world is not my home. "In this world you will have trouble" or maybe, "this world is not my home", needs to be my tattoo.
I am spending this morning praying through the congregations "response forms from yesterday's lament service. I was tearful throughout my reading and my prayers. There's a lot of hurting out there. I am not alone. Its not just my faith through which I will endure, ... but, if you will allow it, I will survive with the help of your faith as well.
God forgive me of my faithlessness. YOU are FAITHFUL. I am yours.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Getting older and Parenting
Last week was a difficult week. I came home from a ski trip realizing that I was skiing with guys ten to twenty years younger (never a good idea, unless you are only twenty). Undeniable and harsh realizations of my own mortality were upon me. Now just so you know ... the mountains around Pagosa were fantastic. The drive and the fellowship while at the lodge were second to none. The snow at Wolf Creek was like I had never seen, twelve inches of powder the day we arrived. My 10 year old F-250 ran like a top and exceeded my expectations on fuel economy. We stayed in a condo arranged my Eric Babb at no cost to us. I had a queen sized bed all to my self. The view out the window was a Colorado postcard. It was the least expensive ski trip I have ever taken.
But then I tried to ski ... I didn't fall much ... I didn't miss the lift ... I was plenty warm, but just going downhill was painful. My geriatric knees and under exercised thighs seemed to make enough noise I was surprised ski-patrol didn't respond. At times I wished they had. Powder alone was bearable, but as the morning progressed the ruts and bumps brought new challenges. Every dip and hump brought unsolicited audible responses to my lips. I tried to keep up, but to no avail. By the time lunch rolled around, another wave of the white powder recovered the mountain in a fresh layer. I returned to the top of the mountain and headed to the bottom again. By the time we had made it half way down, I was toast. I went to the lodge to wait for the super-humans with my tail between my legs. At the end of the day I was spent for the weekend. I only skied one of the two planed days. The worst part was realizing I was in the worst condition of my life.
Part two
Raising children. I could have ended that sentence in any number of ways. Question mark ... Exclamation point ... or a string of nondescript markings denoting words I can not utter (or type). I hate to admit it. But it has been true for a while. I hear other parents alluding to the same feelings. I am tired of raising my children. There, I said it. I don't feel (very) guilty about it, either. terry and I have busted our butts and shortened our lives in the endeavor of training up our children in the way they should go (according to the way we have interpreted scripture). We know we aren't perfect, but we feel we have done a good job at being faithful to this quest.
I remember the day my dad said the fateful words to me. "Son. I've spent the last 18 years of my life telling you everything I knew about what was right, and good, and Godly. Telling you again at this point would be a waste of my time and of yours. He implied that I was always welcome to come to him with questions or for a request for a refresher. He was merely saying repetition at this point in my life was pointless. He was done.
It was a turning pint in my life. Somehow (in some twisted satanic adolescent terms) I had allowed my father's inputs to me about how I should live had clouded my ability to do or to think about what I should be deciding about my own life and choices. I still remember "grounding" myself whereby I "made myself" walk to work for a few days. Never told my friends about that. They just thought it was another installment from my dad.
After a few days of my self imposed punishment I began to realize I had a life to live and to give an answer for. It was the start of good things. Not immediately, but gradually I would consider one habit/indulgence/social interaction at a time and began to structure my life for myself. Notice I did not say "re"-structure. The only structure I had previously erected was my propensity to argue against my parents when I disagreed. I now was coming to the knowledge that my parents were just a small part of all the world was ask me to make a decision about.
I hope my kids understand that.
Its not that I am done being a dad, a father, a provider in times of need, a shoulder for consolation, or even a forgiver when the time arises. Its just that I've said everything I know to say multiple (or "thousands", according to my kids) times and don't want to waste their time, nor my efforts, anymore.
Ben, ... You still have a few things to hear.
Dad
PS I am still available upon request for continuing education.
But then I tried to ski ... I didn't fall much ... I didn't miss the lift ... I was plenty warm, but just going downhill was painful. My geriatric knees and under exercised thighs seemed to make enough noise I was surprised ski-patrol didn't respond. At times I wished they had. Powder alone was bearable, but as the morning progressed the ruts and bumps brought new challenges. Every dip and hump brought unsolicited audible responses to my lips. I tried to keep up, but to no avail. By the time lunch rolled around, another wave of the white powder recovered the mountain in a fresh layer. I returned to the top of the mountain and headed to the bottom again. By the time we had made it half way down, I was toast. I went to the lodge to wait for the super-humans with my tail between my legs. At the end of the day I was spent for the weekend. I only skied one of the two planed days. The worst part was realizing I was in the worst condition of my life.
Part two
Raising children. I could have ended that sentence in any number of ways. Question mark ... Exclamation point ... or a string of nondescript markings denoting words I can not utter (or type). I hate to admit it. But it has been true for a while. I hear other parents alluding to the same feelings. I am tired of raising my children. There, I said it. I don't feel (very) guilty about it, either. terry and I have busted our butts and shortened our lives in the endeavor of training up our children in the way they should go (according to the way we have interpreted scripture). We know we aren't perfect, but we feel we have done a good job at being faithful to this quest.
I remember the day my dad said the fateful words to me. "Son. I've spent the last 18 years of my life telling you everything I knew about what was right, and good, and Godly. Telling you again at this point would be a waste of my time and of yours. He implied that I was always welcome to come to him with questions or for a request for a refresher. He was merely saying repetition at this point in my life was pointless. He was done.
It was a turning pint in my life. Somehow (in some twisted satanic adolescent terms) I had allowed my father's inputs to me about how I should live had clouded my ability to do or to think about what I should be deciding about my own life and choices. I still remember "grounding" myself whereby I "made myself" walk to work for a few days. Never told my friends about that. They just thought it was another installment from my dad.
After a few days of my self imposed punishment I began to realize I had a life to live and to give an answer for. It was the start of good things. Not immediately, but gradually I would consider one habit/indulgence/social interaction at a time and began to structure my life for myself. Notice I did not say "re"-structure. The only structure I had previously erected was my propensity to argue against my parents when I disagreed. I now was coming to the knowledge that my parents were just a small part of all the world was ask me to make a decision about.
I hope my kids understand that.
Its not that I am done being a dad, a father, a provider in times of need, a shoulder for consolation, or even a forgiver when the time arises. Its just that I've said everything I know to say multiple (or "thousands", according to my kids) times and don't want to waste their time, nor my efforts, anymore.
Ben, ... You still have a few things to hear.
Dad
PS I am still available upon request for continuing education.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Small Groups (Mac VS PC, parodies)
As our church prepares to re-tool our approach to small groups and expand our definition of what will constitute a small group at Broadway I have run across some great resources. Here are four videos from a group called RealLife. Enjoy.
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