Breaking the Silence

It is time to write once more. So I break the silence with this.

It becomes increasingly apparent that prayer is the best and most fruitful action that we, as the people of prayer, can ascribe to. Without prayer, all is lost.

There was once a man who felt the call of God on his life; he was sure God was calling him to do something great. The problem was he did not know what that great thing was. So he figured he needed pray.

This man came to Mother Theresa, and asked her to pray for him. "What shall I pray for you?" she said.

"I want clarity. I want to know, in no uncertain terms," said he, "what God's will is for my life."

Smiling, she replied, "No, I will not pray that for you."

Angered, the man responded, "But, why? Mother Theresa, all I want is what you have had all of your life. You seem to always know exactly what it is God is calling you to do?"

She replied, "I, sir, have never had clarity. What I have had is trust. I will pray that you will have trust."

When I first heard this, I decided my prayer life needed to change. As Children of God our first action must be prayer. So as I agree that there is a need for us to process this intentionally, it cannot--it must not--happen if prayer is absence. In fact, prayer could quite possibly be the most important thing we do.

What I am coming to terms with is that God was doing just fine before I came along, and that he would do great without me. When I am confronted with my own smallness in comparison with Yahweh, I recognize the need to pray. There is absolutely nothing I can do for God or for his kingdom unless I learn to pray and I learn to trust.

We talk about how our lives are dead, that they are no longer our own. Thus, we have no right to decide how to live in the kingdom of heaven, or how to be the Body of Christ, or how to live counter-culturally. We may only do this at the direction of Christ, and live this out at the direction of the Holy Spirit. This may manifest itself differently in each of us, but regardless, it will be God who tells us how to live, not ourselves.

So what I suggest is prayer. Lots of it. And together. You know, we see that the early church did just about everything in community. But they were always praying--they were always seeking the face of God in order to discern how to reach their world and make the church the church.

So we must pray. We must make our first course of action prayer, and I would daresay that we must not move until we feel that God has told to do so, and we dare not move in any way but in the way God reveals to us through prayer. And may God forgive us if we equate prayer with inaction or passivity.

One more story:

This summer, while at a family gathering, we got into a discussion about theology, about healing and tongues and prosperity and whatnot. And as we talked, my uncle (a mail carrier) interrupted and said to me,

"Kyle, what you need to learn from this conversation and from everything is that you must pray. I don't necessarily think that I am gifted to be a postman. If I had spent more time in prayer at your age, who knows where I would be now? Just pray and let that shape your beliefs and actions. Pray now, Kyle, if only for my sake."

What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

Against all of my plans, against all that I ever thought was going to happen in my life, I am coming back to Warren next summer. It is no secret to pretty much anyone that I didn't want to come back to Ohio for a number of reasons. Namely, I had to wear a suit when I preached, the music was boring, and the whole feeling around here is, well, bleh.

And yet, today, I asked Rick if I could come back next summer. Over the last three weeks, it's clicked. I've connected with my students. I've connected with members of the congregation. People are finally stepping out to help with the children's ministry on Sunday. In short, everything I wanted to happen six weeks ago is happening now.

God has taught me more about prayer recently than in any other time in my life. I've come to understand that it's not about how you pray, it's just about doing it. I wish I would have connected the dots earlier; it's not about how we come to God it's that we come to God. Ergo, it's not how we pray, it's that we're praying. The other day I prayed in a way I never thought I would pray in any kind of faith: I commanded enemies of the agent to leave my younger brother, and I think they did.

For over two weeks now, one of the boys has had trouble sleeping. He's scared to sleep. Not of monsters. Not something from a movie. He's been afraid of the physical act of sleep. A few nights ago he was up until 4 in the morning because he couldn't fall asleep. Yesterday he asked me to pray for him, and in a moment of faith and prompting by the Spirit, I prayed the enemies of the agent away from him. Last night was the first night he'd slept in a while.

This summer I have been exposed to more theological and doctrinal differences than ever. I've prayed with Nazarenes, Baptists, Lutherans, Pentecostals, Methodists, Assemblies of God-ers, and so many more. I have spent time with white and black pastors; old and young pastors; quiet and outgoing pastors. Rarely do they have the required hip tee with black-rimmed glasses that any pastor that is Christian Famous tend to wear.

They sing hymns.

And, horror of horrors, they wear suits.

And, believe it or not, God is still working. People are still coming to Christ. They are growing and become mature believers.

More and more God is showing me that you don't have to sing the right songs, wear the right clothes, have the best equipment, and be the hippest guy out there in order to be a good pastor. I have spent much of the last year at school throwing stones at the very men I've come to know and love. While I feel that we need to "market" the church, have we gone too far in trying to appear the best way possible?

I can't help but wonder if our attempts at becoming relevant are simply spiritual narcissism that chooses to trust in chord structures, guitars, drums, and tee shirts instead of the King of Kings. Do I trust the ability of blue jeans and a music stand more than the ability of God to bring his children home? Do I think that hymns and organs limit the power of the Spirit?

I think if some of my friends could see what was happening here, they would almost get sick in the stomach. These are not the ultra-hip pastors, nor the mega-brainy pastors, nor the super-charismatic pastors, nor the million-dollar-book-deal pastors. These are men (and, gasp, women) who simply wake up in the morning and try to get people into heaven as best they can.

They may not have read the latest books, but they still got the Bible.

They may not be wearing jeans, but they are still clothed with love.

They may be preaching behind podiums, but the Spirit pours forth speech.

They may not have a bajillion-member church, but they are still faithful to the handful they've been given.

This summer has taught me that I want to be nothing more than a man who is, at the end of the day, faithful. Regardless of dress. Regardless of ability. I just want to do my job and do it well. I just want to love people, and love them well. I want to speak truth, and speak it well. All so I can go Home with my head held high to hear that 'Well done. . .'

God Goes Where Power Is Not

I came to Warren as a light in the darkness; as the only guy in the county who knew the right way to reach people and students and the only one who had a true passion for the Gospel. Growing up here somehow jaded me to my local portion of the Body of Christ.

I came to Warren to save it; in reality, Warren saved me.

God has shown me more about ministry in the last 10 weeks than in an entire year at Moody. It's so easy to think you have it goin on while in your dorm room at 2 a.m. with your friends. But as Rick, my newest friend and mentor, told me long ago, 'This isn't a theological exercise anymore, Kyle. These are real people, with real hurts, now.'

My plans for my youth ministry never came to fruition; my shiny ministry plan in good looking font barely came to frution. My curriculum guide went out the window a month ago. The Sr. High guys small group never happened because the Sr. High guys never came. Outings, hang out nights, and other fun ideas fade to the background as I try to love on kids that come to church hungry.

I've ended up helping with the children's ministry on Sunday mornings because there aren't enough workers to take care of our kids. I'm finally reaching my two seventh graders who think they're too tough for just about anything, but really just wish their families were 'normal.' This past Sunday Ayvan found out this isn't a permanent thing, that I have to go back to Chicago. He was visibly disappointed and a little upset.

Pretty much everything that I imagined and planned to happen this summer did not; this is something I knew would probably happen but I wasn't all that prepared for it. It's much easier to deal with in theory.

But what has happened in me this summer has changed me for eternity.

Rick and some pastors from our area meet weekly to pray for revival in our county. Once a month, the hold a prayer vigil on a Friday night, from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. I had the priveledge to go last week and it might have been the highlight of my summer. At about 4 a.m. we were praying for all people of my county, and interceding on their behalf. I was praying specifically for my generation, when Everett Whiteside, a pastor in the area, said, 'Brothers, we need to lay hands on him.'

And they did.

I was on my knees as 7 men laid hands on me. This wasn't limp laying of hands; they were pressing into me. Everett had his hand right over my heart, and I will never forget what he said: "God, I know that you have sent Kyle back here to show him a great many things. God you are transforming him; you are making him a New Wineskin filled with New Wine. Not an Old Wineskin with New Wine, or a New Wineskin with Old Wine, but completely made new. And God, right now, we release our years of experience into Kyle; we realease these years of experience so that he will know how to deal with the trials we've faced and how to handle the joys, too. We ask that this would not only accelerate him professionally, but also personally." And so on. It might be one of the most profound moments of my life.

It is here that God meets us: in the moments of the unlikely, we discover his plans for us. Sometimes we think you have to be a pastor of a church of a bajillion in order to change the world; it's now that I am seeing you don't need to be super-cool and mega-hip to be passionate.

God goes where power is not. If this isn't true here, it isn't true at all. Thank God for the underdog.

July Already?

I woke up this morning to find myself into day two of month two of break. I feel like it's time for some honest review:

To start, prayer. And a significant lack thereof. After a month and a half of ministry at the church, and to my friends and family, I realize that I do not pray nearly enough. Sometimes in our discussions about our spiritual journeys, we talk about how we're never actually ready for anything. That we never actually do enough of something. We are never actually ready for ____________. (Insert words such as marriage, dating, ministry, etc.) We never ___________ enough. (Insert words such as fast, pray, serve, feed the homeless, clothe the naked, love God, etc.)
I have come to the realization that I must spend much, much more time in prayer. Because there is something mystical there, there is something to prayer that moves mountains. God has spoken to me about this in a number of ways, but tonight was a real kicker. My grandma always collects bookmarks and other oddities for me, and tonight, as I was helping her move furniture, she gave me a bookmark, which says, "A Christian is never greater than his prayer life."
In summation, that knocked me down on the Pride-o-meter a number of notches.

Another point of review: time management. I feel like this is something I pretty much rock at when I am at school. I can make cute little Excel spreadsheets with every part of my day: class, work, meeting, PCM, coffee break, potty time. I can't do that here. This is because my life here is not completely mine: my mom often has entirely different plans for my day than I do. I find myself rushing to put lessons together and not even touching my Christian Missions class (which I begin to dread every time I think of how far behind I am).

Thirdly, after a year of Bible College and (somewhat) extensive study, I still find that many of my old demons still hang around. The monkeys on my back that I was so sure I had rid myself of are still very present. My struggles with self-image and self-portrait (I believe those were the words in my 9th-grade health book) are relatively bad. I beat myself up over failure, find myself easily discouraged, and feeling very brow-beaten and unsettled in my own heart. My old monsters, anxiety and fear, are back underneath the bed and in the closet.
Call it what you will but I really thought that I had grown up and moved on. Clearly I haven't completely. I think I find myself suffering from a low-grade fever of sadness, but I am not completely sure. I could write for ages about this, so I will stop. But I do find that I am much more willing to trust recently. I am much more willing to step out in faith. And I find myself loving Jesus quite a lot. So I'll take it. To quote a recently re-discovered favorite of mine:

"So I got that goin' for me."
--Bill Murray, Caddy Shack

Confessions of an Eternal Optimist

I've come to accept that this summer could be my first experience with ministry not giving me that Jesus high, that buzz I've felt in the past after giving a sermon or leading worship. I've come to accept that when I go into my Sunday Morning journey-study that I have a 3 for 3 record of leaving with less energy than which I came in with.

To sum up: my eternal optimism, my feelings that ministry would always be fulfilling, my ideas that doing the work of the Kingdom would certainly give me the feeling of my hair standing on the back of my arms each time, are decidedly not true. All those times I've read the books about ministry being exhausting after a while are correct.

Who knew?

Come Monday evening, after another less-than-my-mental-image-and-plan Sunday morning, I was quite discouraged. To the point of anger and frustration: I felt cheated. I had made the plan, done what the books told me to do, made fantastic visual aides, timed video clips immaculately. However, none of my students had gone through a drastic transformation. (Yet, I think in secret).

I would imagine that anyone who has spent their career or even a little bit of time in ministry could look me in the eye and give me a gentle 'Duh.' But I'm not the brightest bulb in the tanning bed, so great maxims such as these take me a little longer to believe, I guess.

But Tuesday was a new day. There is a group of pastors, one of whom is Rick, who meet on Tuesday mornings to pray for spiritual, social, and economic revival in our county. I go with and often hear the news around the county, and we pray for a good solid two hours. God did not wait long to un-discourage me: we opened with Galatians 6:9:

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

A number of other encouragements came to me throughout the day: texts and words of affirmation were in abundance at a much needed time. The kicker: Rick has given me an opportunity to preach at the church, both services, on August 3. Probably the most exciting thing that has come out of the last two weeks, really.

And so my eternal optimism is renewed. At least for now.

Prayer Request:

This Friday evening the aforementioned group of pastors are hosting a Public Servant Appreciation Dinner. Members of the city council, county commissioners, the public safety directors, city and county education board members, and other key government officials will be present to view a 15-minute video on how a town in California came back after men and women sought God's face for revival in their community. We're hoping for this to be a great event together. Please pray that details from technology to food service to our conversations would be blessed by God!

The First Sunday

This past Sunday I started a journey with the students of First United Methodist Church. This journey, Transformed, is about exploring life as a chosen people. So, after hours of making postcards, fliers, posters, info sheets, etc., I was ready Sunday morning.

I bought the doughnuts.
I had studied what God had given me.
I had fun questions.

I was ready.

The first Sunday, two guys showed up. I really enjoyed our time together, and I really hope that this is the start of something grand. We went over what it means to be a chosen people and studied passages on Jesus out of John and 1 John. I gave them a sheet with the verses on it so we could underline it and study it together. We discussed passages, the love of Jesus, and I explained the Gospel as best I know how.

Then it was over. No fireworks. No celebration. Just two eighth graders who came, saw what I had to offer, and left, and (God willing) will come back next week. A few thoughts strike me:

1) Most of the "ministry experiences" I've had in the past involved a buzz at the end, as in, I was all jazzed up after giving a talk or leading worship for the first time. This was the first time it was like, OK. That's it. There was no lauding praise or pats on the back. There weren't tears or converted lives.

In short, I did ministry. There is something terribly beautiful in all of this. I now, better than ever, understand why it is so important for me to be occupied with Jesus instead of for him. I can't survive in day-to-day ministry on Spirit Buzz. I need to be attached to Jesus. I need to be in prayer about 1,371,258 times more than I am right now. The temptation is to be relevant: to change my methods, to get better videos, cooler fonts, and a better room. The reality is a need to pray. (Thank you Henry J.M. Nouwen).

2) I've been reading all sorts of books on youth ministry lately to, as said before, be relevant. All of these books tell me I need to be present emotionally, socially, morally, spiritually, and by the way, physically. But I also need to be present relationally. This presents a few doubts such as: Do I have what it takes to be a model? Will they like me? Am I too lame to be a friend to these students? Do they want me to be their friend?

Regardless, I understand that it is nearly impossible to share Truth with students if they don't trust you, and trust is developed through relationship. These kids are asking: 'how is this life you're presenting better? Because I'm at school and there are a thousand other voices telling me to do something that seems way better than what your offering. But they seem to be dead inside, and so do so many people. I just want to know if I can live, if I'm going to make it.'

So I'm going to start doing some events really soon. No strings attached events. Because quite frankly, I don't remember very many talks my youth pastor gave me. I don't remember any great small group meeting. What I do remember is knowing he loved me because he had me over for wings and we'd talk. We'd go to Cedar Point and have great discussions in line. I remember 1 liners over lunches and coffee.

Perhaps the best way to shape students isn't with a talk. Because that's all they hear: adults talking. Maybe they just want to be listened to. Maybe they want to see us in real life, not from a podium or stand.


Anyway, those are my reflections from this Sunday.

Now all I need is a topic for THIS Sunday...

Transformed.

This past Sunday, which I suppose would be the 25th, I went to my internship church, Warren First United Methodist, or "First Church" for both services. Pastor Rick introduced me to the congregation and I had a few moments to share my plans for the summer. During the Sunday School hour, I had the chance to visit the current Jr. High and High School class that was going on so I could meet some of the kids that would hopefully and potentially join my study.

A bit of background. The class that I visited was a "Pre-Confirmation" class that is getting the students some basic knowledge before entering confirmation classes in the fall. I am going to pick up this time with these students starting June 8th with my own curriculum which I will explain shortly.

When I heard I was picking up this Pre-Confirmation class, I was a bit apprehensive mostly because I was told it would be mostly 12-14 year-olds. And while that was fine, I knew that my goals for a guys small group would only come through with Sr. Highers. Fortunately, at the class were two Junior guys. I really liked them and I think that at least one of them would join a small group if I asked. There were also two seventh grade guys as well. Two girls (both, conveniently, named Emily) and another younger guy were missing. The students seemed really receptive towards me, and I really think that we will be able to bond over the summer.

So I started writing my curriculum for my class, or what I call a journey, because 'class' is far too formal. The curriculum is called "Transformed: Exploring Life as a Chosen People." I will be covering all sorts of topics from suffering to evangelism to service to identity. I got the idea out of 2 Peter 2:9-10:

"But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God's instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted."
(The Message)

In the ESV, verse 11 reads that once, we had not received mercy but now we have received mercy; that once we were not a people, but now we are a people. We have been Transformed from nothing to something and from rejected to accepted. The whole premise of the class is that if this is true, then it should and will have dramatic and radical effects on our lives. We have been chosen, so how shall we then live? This journey I hope to take these students on will explore what it means to be God's chosen people.

My first lesson will be on the 8th, and will talk about the person of Jesus and salvation. "From Illusion to Reality" will talk about how we have been given real and true life through Jesus Christ and we no longer have to live in the illusion of sin. It will cover the person of Jesus (The Divine God-Man), the passions of Jesus (To Seek and To Save the Lost) and the work of Jesus (Death, Burial, Resurrection).

It stands right now that there will always be free food, and it will always be a multimedia event. Movie clips, music, and the like will always be part of each class. I want these students to engage with me and, more importantly, with God. I want this class to show students that the Bible is relevant and has meaningful things to say to our generation. I want to show them that there is a Better Way.

So here are some more prayer requests:

That I would be sensitive to God's whispers in what to bring to these students, as well as that I would be receptive to their needs as young believers or even skeptics.

That I would develop real, authentic relationships with these students, so that I become a friend and not a teacher. To be honest, I don't remember very many studies or Bible lessons, but I do remember relationships.

That God would use this journey to draw his children home.

I am so excited to begin this journey with these students. I am chomping at the bit. I've made posters, post cards, and I am going to hound them to be there. Again, I am so excited. God is goin to work this summer, I think, regardless of my actions or not. I hope that I can be at peace with that.

Thanks for your prayers.

--KHT
Zeph 3:17

Admitting My Weakness

The following is excerpted from a letter I recently sent to a friend. I thought it appropriate to share here, as well.

I've been thinking a lot about my powerlessness to achieve, well, anything in this life that we are trying to live. In essence, it is impossible for me to fix myself, to end my addicitons to approval and self, to make myself a more humble or loving or submissive or patient guy. It's not me.

I was reading in Romans 8 today (don't even get me started) and in verse 13 it said that "For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live." I can only live if I put to death the deeds of the body through the Spirit. This is especially helfpul and a message from God in light of my battles over the last few days.I then picked up a devotional I will be going through this summer, "The Inner Voice of Love" by Henri Nouwen. Today's title was "Admitting your Powerlessness." Coincidence?

He talked about admitting our powerlessness to God so he can truly work; that if we try to hard we fail, but if we don't try hard enough we don't get better either. When you plant a seed, you don't dig it back up every day to see if it's growing. I have to let go and earnestly seek God about these things.

It hit me the other night that only Jesus can save me now.

If I'm going to have to go with a last resort, I think I would like him to be Jesus.Then I begin to understand that the essence of the Gospel is making Jesus your first resort, not your last. I think I would have wasted a lot less time if I'd have just figured this out sooner.

And so I pray. I'm reading about breath prayer, this things monks in the East developed in the 6th century to pray without ceasing. Breathing in, I whisper half of a prayer, and the other half when I exhale. For example, "Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." That was the monks'. I like, "Abba, I belong to you." Especially after Romans 8's talk of adoption.

So please, read and pray. Know where your strength comes from. Admit your powerlessness.

The Plan Unveiled

Dear Friend,

I began this blog a while ago to get myself in the habit of keeping this going. I began this with the purpose of keeping my friends who are scattered around the country up-to-date with what is happening with my ministry over the summer. Today I had a very important meeting and nailed down a lot. This is the rough plan for the next three months.

This summer, to give a bit of background, I will be working at the First United Methodist Church in Warren, OH. This is not my home church; in fact, I had never been there or met the pastor until Christmas break when a friend told me that Pastor Rick was interested in bringing me on. So I met with him, and within two hours, we both felt that God wanted me at FUMC.

The plan for this summer is to work with the youth of the church. Youth Group, which normally meets on Sunday nights, does not meet during the summer; this is common practice around here. Because I need a springboard for the rest of my ministry, on June 8th I will start teaching a class for Jr. and Sr. High tentatively titled "The Life That is Christian." I will not take any credit for a lot of the material because it was created by Mike Merry and Junior Ziegler for the youth ministries at DesPlaines Bible Church,

Using this class as a springboard, I will try to get a small group for the 9th-12th grade guys going. It will by no means be large; the youth group right now is about 10 or less students. If God sends two or three guys, that will be ideal and meet my expectations. I have yet to decide where to go with the small group, but I do plan to use a variant of a Life Transformation Group found in Neil Cole's Cultivating a Life for God.

During this time, I hope to get to a point where I can casually hang out with the students. Go to a movie. Grab some dinner. Play video games at their house. My goal here is not to be a good Bible teacher, but to be a good friend and maybe even a mentor. A longer-term thought is starting an improv acting group and doing a dinner for the church with a few skits, maybe a student's testimony, etc.

I will also be meeting with the Sr. Pastor for a mentoring time of some sort, and going with him to a meeting of pastors on Tuesday mornings at the area mission. About 20 pastors gather to pray for revival, and I am really looking forward to this time.

On the side, I will be working at an insurance office, as an "office manager." I take this term to be a politically correct and masculine term for "secretary."

While there is a lot of gray, I think that God will work out details later. My main focus is developing my curriculum, which will definitely be a fluid process as I get to know the students better in the next few weeks.

Another important part of this blog is so I can share prayer requests. Here are some now:

1) That God would show me what He wants the students to hear and learn in the Sunday School class, as well as small group times, etc. Pray that He would guide my decision making process in this and give me the passages to use.

2) Pray that the students would be open to me. I really would like to build meaningful relationships this summer. I understand that this doesn't happen quickly, but I hope to get a chance to dig into life with these students. Pray also, more importantly, that they would be open to the Spirit's work in their lives presently as well as in the future.

3) Pray for a Timothy. I am really hoping to find and older guy and really get the chance to specifically pour into him. Pray that God would show me who this student is supposed to be, as well as how to best live life with him.

4) Time management and discipline. In addition to doing ministry and having a job, I will be taking a correspondence course over the summer as well as trying to do a whole lot of reading. Not to mention spending time with family and friends. AND my mom will be getting married on July 13th. The business is smacking me in the face.

5) A good friend and I have been writing back and forth about religion. When he comes home, I am interested to see the direction these conversations go. Pray that God would open his heart and mind, as well as give me the right attitude and words to speak with him. Pray for God to bring him home.

Thank you for your prayers and support this summer. Please keep reading as I will try to update with frequency.

In Abba's Embrace,

Kyle
Zeph. 3:17

Life Unraveled (Temporarily, At Least)

It's move-out week, and as boxes and tubs filled with our belongings flood the halls, I get the feeling that my life is unraveling.

Everything stable about life here is stolen away every May (rhyme not intentional): our belongings packed away, our furniture torn apart and re-arranged, and the rooms cleaned spotless. It's supposed to look like we were never there, they tell us. It seems kind of odd to make a space your own for three quarters of the year but pretend like you were never there for the rest of it.

There is a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and sadness as each of us puts another box outside our door, as we place another container of odds and ends clothing, office supplies, and books on a shelf in storage. We are being removed from the World we've immersed ourselves in for nearly an entire year, and with it goes the families that we have made for ourselves.

I'm not quite sure how many times I've told a friend, "I'm not sure what I'll do without you for three months." I am about to leave this campus for more than quadruple the amount of time I've been gone before. It is odd to feel apprehensive about going home, to My Bed, My Bathroom, My Mom's Food.

And as my new-found family and I scatter across the country and even the world, we can see in each other's eyes that none of us want to leave each other. I am ready to go home for a while, yet the chance to stay here with these people is at times significantly more tempting. These are the people I have come to know and love and laugh with and cry with.

I have said it before and I will say it again, home is where the heart is. Right now, my heart is in the plaza on a warm day, sitting at a coffee shop laughing about the way a friend says a phrase, eating at restaurants we should have exhausted by now but yet can't get away from, staying up till all hours making God-talk.

But I am ready to return to my roots. To a place where you don't hear a siren every half-hour, a place where you can drive from A to B without having to allot extra time for traffic, a place where the only Starbucks within feasible distance is 15 minutes away. I am ready for slow afternoons reading a book with my dog, for the sound of mowers and hedge trimmers, the smell of wood burning and rain falling. I am ready for late-night Taco Bell runs and once a week Chipotle dinners. I am ready to watch movies twice a week because we can't think of anything else to do.

I am ready for home.

So, as my life unravels, and boxes pack and people board planes, trains, and automobiles and scatter hither and thither, I am willing for my life to unravel, if only to see the change in our Tapestry come August.

No Longer Shall I Sing

Someone said the other day, "When your voice is changing, you do not sing."

This is a grand metaphor. When a choirboy who sings in a boy's choir enters puberty and his voice changes, he does not sing until his voice has completely made the change. Then he sings again.

This is greatly reflective of my current stage of life. My ways of understanding God are drastically changing, almost daily. Yet I spend much of my time debating this or that theological issue, criticizing a speaker who has about twelve times the amount of education I do, or critiquing an event put on by someone who has been in ministry for many years longer than I have been.

It's really not my place. While education, age, or experience is not always equated with superiority, I can't help but wonder how much pride I indulge in. When my time comes, will I be criticized the way I criticize others. This puts an eerie spin on "Judge not, lest you be judged."

In When the Lion Roars: A Primer for the Unsuspecting Mystic, Stephen Rossetti says, "The grace of God very often carries with it the desire to communicate to others. Indeed, the beginner may engage in sharing this newfound enlivened faith with others, but not as a teacher, and certainly not as a spiritual director. Instead of teaching, one should become a learner."

John of the Cross says that the beginners on the spiritual journey "develop a desire somewhat vain--at times very vain--to speak of spiritual things in others' presence, and sometimes even to instruct rather than be instructed."

At this stage in my life, I have been asked to shut up and listen. I dare not throw the first stone; who am I to say that I know better? When we do not submit to the authorities above us, we are shaking our fists at God (thanks, Dr. Easley).

The growing conviction to keep my mouth shut has returned in full force and is forcing my lips to close tightly. If I cannot submit in the small things, I will never be able to submit in the things that matter. What happens when the Senior Pastor at a church I will work at in the future does something I disagree with? Do I grumble under my breath?

So, for now, I will silence my voice, which makes me wonder if I should keep writing this. But I will, and now they will be reflections on silence.

I'm A Big Kid Now

When I was little, Toys 'R' Us had this jingle that sang, "I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys 'R' Us kid..." I remember thinking that, and saying to myself that I don't want to grow up, that I want to remain a kid. After all, big people don't get that many toys anyway.

I looked forward to coming to Moody for well over a year; the period between my acceptance and my arrival on campus (which, I will probably always remember, was from January 17 to August 18) drug on like watching C-SPAN. Each day went by slower and slower as I desperately wanted to begin this chapter of my life.

A quarter into what I will openly admit to being the best thing to ever happen to me, I suddenly see how fast life really moves. In high school, the seniors said to us freshmen to enjoy it, because it flies. That's not something you believe as a freshman; but when you are a senior, you more than believe it, you felt it as deeply as you felt spring would follow winter.

If high school went fast, college goes even faster. My first year of college is drawing to a close, and as I dread having to pack my life into a box and take it back to Ohio, I realize that this time is slipping through my fingers at an alarmingly fast rate.

In three years, I will (hopefully) have a real job, (possibly) be engaged, and maybe even (terrifyingly) be preparing for a wedding. It hits me that I'm a big kid now. No more Toys 'R' Us runs with dad on Saturdays to look at the glossy packages of Power Ranger action figures and Nintendo 64 new releases. Instead, I look at the glossy covers of graduate school information, and stare at the brightly reflective screen of my laptop as a New Testament paper stares me in the face, begging to be written.

Do not hear too much of a lament here; I am ready to move on. This summer I will have my first paid ministry position--a milestone in my life. I am ready to move into my future and start serving the church and leading others into the presence of Jesus. The lament I have, or perhaps, the tear of joy that runs down my cheek, is that of a childhood well spent, of dreams coming true.

Perhaps the hardest thing I will ever attempt to do is keep going; it is much easier to stay put, really. But growing up is happening to me as I speak, and I realize this beautiful community of ragtag ragamuffins will only exist for less than three years now. It will be nearly impossible for me to keep going after this. It is, after all, the first time I have ever felt fully received.

But I am a big kid now. And I am armed with the courage of Harry Potter, the bravery of the Red Ranger, and the energy of Buzz Lightyear to go after my dreams. I will grow up. I will be a man.

I am a big kid now.

Remembering The Point

In the midst of what could become a very stressful week, it's important to recall a few key themes in my life. It's easy to become very microscopically focused and miss The Point.

To that end, this is what I know: God has called me here, to this school for this time. The activities I am involved in may make me go insane because they bump into each other occasionally, but I know that these activities have been given to me for many purposes. Some of these purposes have been seen, and some of them are yet to be understood, but I know that I have learned much from these experiences. I must learn to say 'no' at some point, however, and I have begun making changes in my life to that end.

The Point, however, is this. If I have followed God into these activities, then he will make it so that I can accomplish what I need to accomplish this week. Yes, it will be hard, and yes, I probably will lose at least some of my hair (a phenomenon that is occurring at a rather alarming rate), I will certainly make it to Friday, because God has never left me hanging.

The Point is that in my busyness, I cannot let my identity be stolen from me: I am loved and cared for. God knows what will happen each moment of tomorrow, so there is no point in worrying. There is nothing new under the sun, after all, and if I think I'm busy, I wonder how Adam felt when he had millions of animals to name and his creativity was already running short.

Busyness, or rather worry and anxiety, must not take the forefront; Jesus must be my focus as I seek to accomplish the work that is ahead of me. If Jesus is the focus, peace must follow.

"Do not worry about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
--Philippians 4:6-7

"I sought the Lord and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears."
--Psalm 34:4

Still Behind the Curve

As occasionally happens, I had a spiritual awakening today.

I suddenly realized that I am a sinner, that I am saved by the purest grace and love, and that there are many people out there that have never experienced the emotions and experiences that I have. In fact, they are quite probably very foreign.

This morning, as I was experiencing this awakening, I felt, for a moment, as though I were on the outside looking in. I saw the Christian machine and its merchandise and wanted to wretch, yet I understood their usefulness. I saw dusty tomes of theology and doctrines and felt nauseated, yet realized their necessity.

I was, looking back, in some kind of spiritual limbo: seeing things from both the inside and out. And as I entered back into the bubble today, we sang a song:
How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure,
That he should give His only Son
To make a wretch his treasure.

I realized, as we were singing, that a friend of mine, who I have been writing back and forth with about spiritual things, has never experienced this love. Further, he has never experienced the Father at all--something I hold as core to my identity has been completely absent from his life. Does he feel treasured? Does he feel valued or wanted? I cannot say.

Yet in these moments I realized that God, rich in mercy, has loved me with the deepest love and made me part of his family. I realized in that moment that I know God, and he calls me friend. This thing I do and live and breathe is not just a thing: it is real and powerful and dynamic and unique.

Normal is not the word for my life. I am not quite sure what is. Beloved is somewhere close; it holds shades of meaning that I want to express.

I highly doubt that this is new for anyone but myself. This is a recurring thing in my life. Just when I think I've got it all down, God shows me that I am still behind the curve.