Fighting

You know, there's something about spiritual warfare that makes us want to fight. We get so worked up to be confronted with the enemy again that all we want to do is fight. We fight the urge to sin. We fight the impulse to relax. We fight the thought the enemy could, once again, be staring us in the face, threatening to attack us. If we're not fighting the enemy, then we're often fighting the spirit vs. flesh battle. Yet, with each battle we fight, we grow more worn out, more frustrated, and often guiltier.

Why do we spend so much time fighting when there is more strength in surrender? I'm not talking about surrendering to the enemy or the "flesh," to use a good holiness Christian-ese word. I'm talking about giving up the fight to the Lord. If the enemy cannot convince us to go to his side, he'll convince us at least to fight. Fighting will weaken us. Surrender seems even weaker, doesn't it? But it's not.

When we surrender to the Lord, it means truly emptying ourselves of our - selves. No more me. No more you. We surrender, an act of weakness and humility, to watch the Lord's strength overpower both the enemy and our "flesh" without breaking a sweat.

How do we surrender to the Lord? Simple - we stop dwelling on thoughts like, "I'm not where I should be spiritually," and, "I'm just not good enough," for starters. We all know that. None of us has arrived, nor will we. None of us is good enough. Deal with it and move on to real surrender that doesn't come by focusing on what we're not. That focus still keeps US at the center.

We surrender to the Lord when we continually pray to Him, without self-focus, asking Him to reveal Himself. I dare you to pray in earnest for a month, "Father, in the name of Jesus, loose your Holy Spirit to teach me about who You really are." You'll be closer to surrender then because God will be at the center and the thoughts you have of yourself won't be repetitve Christian-ese phrases that try to prove humility. Rather, statements of earnest confession, truth, and spiritual celebration will pour forth as we worship God for all that He truly is! Battles will not seem insurmountable either because He'll be fighting; we won't.

Temptation is Knocking

Temptation is a strange thing. Sometimes we don't recognize it. Sometimes when we do we don't understand why it's bad. A good friend of mine recently let me in on some of his own temptation. So did another friend. They both mentioned being fine most of the time...until....

Why is there always an until? I think there's an until because when we're doing "okay," we're doing it on our own. When we're really doing well overcoming temptation, we're not even thinking about it. Suddenly we think something like, You know, I haven't lied in four days! or Yes!! I haven't skipped my personal time with the Lord in a week! or I haven't let my eyes and mind wander into Internet porn for days! These are dangerous thoughts, friends.

These thoughts are dangerous because we take ownership. What initiates the thought of our victory is a temptation for that sin, right? A particular site pops into a girl's or guy's mind, and s/he automatically thinks, No, I haven't done that. Thinking that does nothing, though. It only leads to the until. The temptation never leaves. We take the bait of ownership, proudly declaring our own victory in our minds and hearts. Then we're surprised when we tell another lie, gossip, or replace God's love with the enemy's lust.

The point? When temptation comes knocking with the thought, You've done so well lately, immediately begin praying. Something I've prayed is, "God, fight this battle for me." Believe Him. The Father is chasing you with His love and will bring you through as purely as Christ in the power of His Holy Spirit! Hallelujah!

Two Things

First, my anniversary was Monday. What a wonderful weekend we had! We went to Halifax for the weekend. We saw The Sound of Music at Neptune Theatre, went to the Halifax Mooseheads - Saint John Sea Dogs game, and shopped like crazy. What an awesome time! Because Christmas weekend will be spent in Moncton, we opened gifts yesterday. Natasha is very good. That is all. (You need Chris Botti.)

And now for something a little more serious.

I read this quote today: "In coming to Christ we do not bring our old life up onto a higher plane; we leave it at the cross" (Tozer, Man: The Dwelling Place of God).

That is me. I realized in reading that quote how progressive my sanctification really is. Most things in my life have been left at the cross, but how often have I prayed that God would change my life to make it something better? Asking God to do anything to my life besides take it away and give me a new one smacks of my own desire to cling to my own life. The more I cling to me, the less I cling to Him. Think about this quote today, Christians. (If you're not a Christian, you probably don't understand where we're coming from. Don't be afraid to post if you seriously want to know what's up.)

One More Because I Can't Sleep

(I never should have left my apartment to disrupt noise earlier. Now I can't sleep.)

Most of you don't know what has happened recently. Here's the non-specific scoop. Natasha and I are praying about her/our internship placement. We have been approached by many churches. (Go figure - many people want Natasha's worship leading capabilities.) Most of these churches don't even have worship pastors, so this is a no-no for internships. Still, we've looked. We had a good lead that we thought ended in a closed door. It didn't. The door is still open. If you aren't praying with us, you should be.

If you know the specifics behind this post, you are not yet free to share with your friends. We have been confirmed nowhere yet. Stay tuned.

One More for the Good People Next Door

I was a jerk tonight. Right before I posted the other post I went next door to confront people in the townhouse "chapel." (If you don't believe me, check the door. It says "chapel," not "lounge.") They were wonderful people, but it was 11:30, and we are really tired tonight. It's noisy in there every night till almost midnight (another reason it should not be called "chapel"), and I'm usually very patient. It's been a long weekend, though, and I couldn't think or sleep. So I confronted.

Why do I share this? So that you all know that the rumors are true - I really am an uptight jerk when it comes to quiet hour. It's also so you don't think that the sudden stomping in and out of 66 Wesley Drive (a.k.a. townhouse center section) was because of bad people. I won't name the talkers because they're not normally the people who are loudest. (Yes, I really can usually tell exactly who's in there. My bedroom is on the other side of the kitchen wall. Kitchen - another reason it should not be called a "chapel.") Still, if you saw me coming or going and then saw the people who inevitably came out later, they're good people. Especially Andrew, who actually apologized, and I know he likely meant it...for all of those good people. (See, there really are some wonderful God-fearing people around.)

How It Went

Why does nothing normal ever happen in my life? Really. It's nothing huge this time, but as I should have expected, the gift thing wasn't exactly as I planned it. Here's how it went.

I took Friday off because my scheduled vacation day Wednesday was usurped by some college consultants who planned their visit after I planned my vacation days. This worked in my favor because I was able to set things up and get some other things done (i.e. banquet planning).

Natasha came home from morning classes about noon; I came home from jazz combo (Heidi was AMAZING on Friday night!!!!!!) practice around one. I mentioned presents time, but we didn't really get around to it until about two.

She loved the CDs, the ornament, and the pjs (especially the blue set...lounge pants, cami, and cardigan). The pearl earrings went over well, too. As she was opening the red pjs I remembered that I forgot to bring her card out of its hiding spot. I gasped, like a twit, and said, "Nothing." We finished opening the presents and put on the music.

Rebeckah (who doesn't read this blog because she thinks people who put personal things online are idiots) brought a curling iron for Natasha to use for the banquet, but Natasha's hair wasn't cooperating. She became increasingly frustrated, so I surprised Natasha by bringing out a Christmas present - hair straightener. (It had to cooperate with something, right?) That went well, but now I'm down one Christmas present and promised not to buy anything else after Remembrance Day. (Can someone help me justify?)

Then I did it. That's right. I forgot the card as suddenly as I remembered it at the wrong moment. She received the card this afternoon. (Fortunately, the birthday, banquet, and Christmas party - which is what Natasha really wanted for her birthday - all went well. The card still had the cry factor, which I didn't count on.)

I know, I know

Look, I can be honest and say that the number of people who actually read this blog is small. Regardless, for that one faithful reader out there, I'm well aware that I fell off the blog-wagon. I just finished a 45-page paper, a visit with guys from Florida, and putting together some music for the banquet. They're all excuses, but you have to admit that life is convenient for that. :)

Okay, here's today's post. It is finally Natasha time!!! I've been waiting for this for weeks, and it's here. Her birthday is tomorrow, but we're opening presents today. Then the banquet is tonight, one of her favorite times. Tomorrow we're going to get our (real) tree and decorate it. Our Christmas party is tomorrow night. Next weekend is our anniversary honeymoon. The following weekend is Christmas. I get to give the presents now!!! (Could time possibly have moved any slower?)

So, what's everyone doing for Christmas?

Quick One

Okay, so I was just looking over the comments on an earlier post. I was invited to post myself, and the word verification prompt asked me to type "mofeo." Fortunately, I didn't have to comment, but I think someone somewhere had a good time with that. It's a little close to "mofo," don't you think? (Far be it from me to post something so in the "gray" area....)

Equality

For anyone who knows me, this post will come as a surprise. I usually tell people that women and men are mostly equal. We are definitely equal in the eyes of the Lord. We're all humans. The differences tend to be biological, mental, and emotional, but in the end there's still no "better" way to be. Or so I thought.

I'll be good to the man who inspired this post, but I was shocked at a man this week who came to me with good intentions for his wife's Christmas present. He is a great guy, so that didn't shock me. What shocked me was his wife approaching me to talk about the present later that day. She was asking where to find the gift and how she could pay for it. I know I'm being vague to protect a very innocent man, but get this - the man was overwhelmed with the "shopping" and, thus, told his wife about it and sent her in his frustration.

Arguably, the wife probably took matters into her own hands (she's a go-getter) when she saw her husband's frustration. Still, though, what is it about guys that cripples us when it comes to some things? Why do department stores, kitchens, home products, and presumably feminine products scare us? Why did my mom take it upon herself to ensure this would not happen to me (in most cases)?

By the way, women, before you start man-bashing and insulting because you're glad a man gave you that leeway, please beware that women don't help men. They take over, occasionally thinking, "Hmmph...men." We've got your number, and I will expose it on this blog if you bash men.

Destiny

Okay, who has a niece? Maybe you all do, but you know that your niece isn't as precious as mine. (If Natasha were reading over my shoulder, she'd tell me how comparisons aren't nice. Unfortunately for you, she's typing a paper on the laptop right now. Thus, my niece is better.) Destiny was in Moncton this weekend at my in-laws. She and her parents are in town for a week for American Thanksgiving. The family's Canadian, but living in Chicago meant they had some time off. I just spent several hours with them all, a few of which were spent holding, feeding, and walking Destiny. I even have the spit-up marks to prove it! Anyway, it was good, and I hope you all have a niece like mine some day. She's amazing!

Other young women of note:
Bailey Erskine (my sis; less than two, counts over 20, knows most of the alphabet, speaks in full sentences)
Emily Brewer (honestly...do I have to say more than her name? AWESOME kid!)
Rebecca and Aubrey Simcik (our neighbors whom we absolutely adore)
Crystal Birtch (friend's daughter whose personality is already lovely at such a young age)
Zoe Janes (cutest Newfie I ever met)
Grace Rhyno (smallest angel on record)
the three Dezeeuw girls (haven't seen them in a long time, but they are all breathtakingly beautiful and sweet)

Other women of note:
Natasha (after whom no woman shall be recorded, since she is the most outstanding and only woman for me)

Bio-communities

There's a bio-community on our back deck. No seriously. (And I'm not talking about the Townhouse crime.) We cannot open our back door without the invasion of creatures of the six- and eight-legged variety. Natasha has been convinced that our deck doubles as an insect jungle, but I've assured her that this is just not true. I'm wrong. We just had the Simciks down for Thanskgiving 2005 II, and she opened the back door to shake out the tablecloth. She hadn't opened the door more than a centimeter when I heard the familiar, "UGH!!" She slammed the door, and I knew that the ICE (Insect Community Ecosystem) had invaded our home again. The ICE came out in force this time, as several multi-legged creatures scurried across our kitchen floor (the subject of another blog that was never written). Undaunted, Natasha attacked the ICE with balled-up paper towels. One cunning member of the ICE invasion squad, Arnie the Arachnid, actually slid back into the crack between the door and the doorjamb. Natasha called in the reinforcements, the HID (Husband Insecticide Division), to destroy the invader. The HID won this one because I sprayed into the crack with Mr. Clean kitchen cleaner. (Don't laugh; we've all used chemicals to destroy creaturely invaders.) Victorious, Natasha put the HID away and called out the HOTS (Husband Outdoor Tablecloth Shaker) to take the tablecloth upstairs and shake it out the front door of the complex. The HOTS walked away victoriously from that one, too...without any more ICE invasions.

Several Posts

You know, so many posts have gone through my head in the last few days that I can hardly figure out what to write. I'll go with several thoughts, and you just read (or not...this is becoming more for me than for you, selfishly). :)

I was moved by someone this week that I hardly know. There are just certain people that have become a major part of my life without much conversation or interaction at all. Case in point? Josh McCracken. We seldom talked at BBC, and we spent time together less frequently. Yet, he was on my heart for almost three years with the type of burden that wouldn't let me look in his direction without praying. The result? I still pray for him at least once a week, each time I think about him in Central Asia. Another one? Tom Cann. I've talked with him a few times, but our paths seldom cross. He's just a wonderful guy, and I knew that before I met him. There are other guys like that (not girls, oddly enough), but I'm not going to list them on a blog that I'm discovering has a small cult of readers. I don't want someone's feelings to get hurt just because God never burdened me with you.

About the cult of readers, I know that most of you are just blog junkies. That's okay - I'll accept that.

Another thing - I was within a breath of backing out of the Christmas banquet and community Christmas show this week. Then I remembered that it's not about me. (Why do I still have to be reminded of that so often?) It doesn't matter that I don't feel like giving up ANOTHER weekend for some noble college and community event. The community event is actually a ministry, and the Christmas banquet is just plain fun. Once I stopped being selfish I realized that I really do want to be part of everything.

Finally, what's the deal with families? I was feeling a little guilty for being away from home on American Thanksgiving without calling my parents, siblings, and grandparents. Then I realized that's just the Erskine way. When was the last time any of us remembered to call another one of us on the right day? I think Ben and Lynn (brother and his wife) are the only good ones at that. The rest of us try hard. Funny thing is, we still love one another deeply. So many families call all the time and can't stand one another. Weird.

In Hot Pursuit

The extent to which God loves us has been on my mind a lot lately. Sometimes I tend to think that God loves us so much - from His great white throne. This is true. But it's not the whole truth. God loves us so much and pursues us. I mean that. If you're not a Christian and you spend much time reading this blog, then you're doing one of two things - 1) making a list of rejections you have for this post because of hurt (not because of God, I might add) or 2) wondering if this doesn't desribe that feeling you get every now and then that makes you wonder who else is in the room. If you are a Christian and you're reading this, you may be saying the same thing, unfortunately. We think God loves us, but we don't trust that His love impacts our daily living. We believe He loves us, but we continue doing X, Y, and Z because that's what Christians do or because "What would people think?" God is pursuing us like crazy. He's on our heels. He's above us, beneath us, beside us, behind us, before us.... And He's loving us with a love that's deeper than a feeling. We don't see it because we're loving church, loving people, loving our activities, loving the good feelings we get from things like praise team, Sunday School, fellowship, or philanthropic things like Compassion. (You should be sponsoring a child, but that's another blog for another day when I'm more passionate.) When was the last time you stopped long enough to listen for God and realize He's right there? When was the last time you did any of your "Christian" things because God loves you and you love Him? This isn't "proving" your love; it's just loving. He's worth it.

It Always Happens Like This

Have you ever wondered whether anyone really gets you? I mean really. There are days when I think if it weren't for Natasha I'd go out of my mind. I'd go out of my mind because I just don't run into people on my "page" in the run of an average day. Assumptions, expectations, and selfishness tend to keep us humans from really connecting, and even when we do we find we're all on different pages. That's life, right? I'm used to this by now, since I've felt this way most of my life. (In other words, yes, I'm strange.) This weekend Natasha and I had the extreme pleasure of talking with a guy we've known for awhile (who I won't name for sake of his own embarrassment) for a little over three hours. I had to admit to him that I hadn't had that kind of connection with someone for that long in a long time. There are guys I'll talk to for anything, but most of them don't live in Sussex anymore. I didn't realize I needed the refreshment of talking without explaining myself all the time. I didn't realize how much I needed a deep and personal conversation without wondering if it's too deep. I didn't realize how much I needed a three-hour conversation in which I wasn't the one doing most of the talking. It always happens like this with me. I don't necessarily realize a need before God meets it.

Energy

Energy is a good thing. It feels good to have the energy to move through a day. It's empowering to accomplish a lot and know you've done well.

Today I met a lady who has a lot of energy. She knows she is good at what she does and is really a shaker and mover. (She would even keep Kathy on her toes, and that's saying something!) I couldn't help but think, "You know, you need to slow down," but I hadn't even talked to her for five minutes. Have you ever talked to someone who gives off that vibe - besides me during Booster or travel season?

Since When Did This Happen?

I attended the entire Blazer hockey game last night. It was my first FULL game in awhile. The crowd was mostly fun (except for the annoying loud hecklers for no good reason). What amazed me was the 6 - 1 win the team had! Since when are the Blazers a 6 - 1 scoring team? Since this year, apparently. I've heard that we're no longer necessarily a losing team, and I've even seen a little of that this year. It was really nice, though, to see such a fantastic win last night. Three of the goals came from our D-Group, too!

Nothing Like It

There is nothing like seeing the Lord truly move in ways you only dreamed he could previously. I'm part of a ministry right now that has allowed the opportunity for vulnerability and openness among the participants that I never thought would really happen. The point of the ministry is not vulnerability, but vulnerability certainly allows people to grow and opens them up to face the Lord. He is good, and His mercies truly endure forever! It seems as though my vulnerable times often turn out to be my deepest spiritual times. That being said, why is vulnerability so scary? We can trust the Lord with our vulnerability, right?

I've Got It!

Okay, here it is. I heard a guy say yesterday that he thinks the reason 60% of the students who actually attended chapel yesterday weren't really "into" worship is because we don't allow students self-expression. My gut wanted to say, "What are you talking about?" but I remembered that I choose to express myself without worrying what people say. I've never had to worry about that. Who I am has rarely gone against the grain. It's not that I'm a people-pleaser. I just like to study hard and get good grades. I like to dress well. I like to hang out with people. I like to worship God. I like music. I like watching some sports and playing others. I'm married to a great girl. None of this rubs people the wrong way, so they let me express myself freely. But what about other people who don't like what I like? I'm hosting a young man on campus today with hair down his back and a grizzly beard. Being raised open-minded, I will probably get along well with him without any regard to those things. However, I'm going to have to have the "Cut your hair and shave!" talk with him in his interview today. Let's NOT talk Bethany here - let's talk our culture. (This isn't a BBC issue - it's a culture issue, believe me.) Why does our east coast evangelical Christian -founded on freedom of religious expression, I remind you - choose to bind people to fitting the "Christian" image? What is the Christian image anyway?

Nothing huge

More than anything else, I'm posting this morning because I haven't in several days. It's not because nothing has happened lately. Take Booster, for example. It was the BEST Booster HANDS DOWN in the seven Boosters I've seen. Or the Brewers...you know, the extremely fertile couple who's going to end up with seventeen children at this rate. They start trying and next thing you know...expecting. (Of course, they're my personal paragon for early childhood parenting, so I'm glad they're expecting.) Or Shelley Vail. She just stopped working here. (Madre de vaca...not Shelley...if you know me, you understand.) Or the Stag Pampered Chef party I'm planning in two Tuesdays. So, there's lots going on. Surely there's something good to blog about. I'll think of it soon....

Hockey

If I hear one more person say, "Of course we can act like idiots; it was just a hockey game!" in reference to this past Monday's hockey extravaganza, I'm going to puke. What is that?! Where do we get off, letting our Christian values and examples go out the window over hockey?! People say, "It's just a game; take it easy." Don't tell me to take it easy. I'm not the one going ape over every call the ref makes. I'm not the one going crazy over players. I'm not the one making BBC students, ministers, and Christians in general look like maniacs. Seriously, folks, think about this a second. If you were pastoring a church one day and the Blues came in and saw you, do you honestly think they would give your ministry any credibility after your verbal abuse, cutting taunts, and overreactions? Hockey is hockey, yes, and it gets people fired up. There's a HUGE difference between fired up and ridiculous though. Enjoy the game, and let others do the same.

Time Management

I used to be an excellent time manager. It's become so clear lately that I may have those gifts deep down somewhere, but they're hiding. Or, rather, I'm being lazy. I've tried to take control of this again so I can stop running around like crazy. Please send out a prayer for me when you think about it. I'm getting everything done that I need to; I just need to do it all with less stress and greater efficiency.

Real Idiot

Sometimes I can be a real idiot. While in North Carolina last week I began a blog for our D-Group. I made sure only members of the blog could comment, just in case anyone else happened to stumble across it. (I'm not listing it publicly in blogger because I'm trying to allow our group to be open, honest, and private.) Anyway, I added all the guys as members by listing their e-mail addresses in the open line, separating them all by semi-colons. Concerned that no one had added themselves, I began pondering what went wrong. Then it hit me: I had to add each guy by using a separate line. Ugh! It's really obvious, too, when you adjust your settings. Man.... :)

Vocation of Ministry

Okay, Brandon has made some good points, but my thoughts need another post. I'll be organized, with three parts to my thoughts. (What a pastor!)

1) Brandon is correct that all Christians are called to ministry. Regardless of our particular vocation, each of us has a responsibility to live a life worthy of the call to faith. That doesn't mean our ministry stops with our lifestyles. Rather, we must also testify about the Lord, actively seeking to bring others into God's Kingdom. Our evangelical testimonies are the thing that separates us from being a "good person" and being a "good Christian person." (Yes, I do think it's a cop-out to say, "I'll just evangelize by living a life that people want to know more about why I'm different." I'm not saying that each person will evangelize five people daily, but I'm saying that the Lord will lead us into the right place at the right time with people.)

2) While all Christians are called to be ministers, I still think this is a cop-out for some people who are afraid to go into a full-time vocation of ministry. I do think there is a difference between the every-Christian-minister and the full-time-Christian-minister. It may be hard to deal with, but God really does call people apart from the norm. He always has. After being led out of Egypt, Abraham's descendents were given a life code. This wasn't meant to make the people "better" than everyone; they were being called from the normal people to be separate for God. Even among those called out people, God set apart the Levites even further. They received no land inheritance, and their entire lives were to be wrapped up in doing God's ministry. If you don't see the connection for today's world, here it is. God still calls people out to be separate for His ministry. When we're Christians, God calls us apart from the world. This doesn't make us better than everyone else; it makes us separate. (God loves all people and wills that none should perish, remember?) He calls some Christians (like Brandon and me) to a life of full-time vocational ministry, making us even more separate but not "better." Basically, I believe God calls people apart, not above. We're on a level plane in the eyes of the Lord, regardless of what we do, how we do it, or the length of time we've spent doing it. When I say that the honor of a full-time vocational calling is being ignored, I am not talking about one person being better than another. I'm talking about the honor of being called apart from the norm by God. That's cool.

3) Brandon never would have had to warn me not to make others feel badly about themselves if we ministers weren't so corrupt. What is our problem, anyway? People have perverted the fact that we're called apart for Him, making ministry something about us being above others. So many ministers have lived lives in which we seem better than others, sometimes even treating Christians in our care like they don't measure up to our level of spirituality or our knowledge of God. If we weren't so busy making ministry about us, then no one would feel put down by our unique callings. Rather, they would celebrate and encourage others who felt that call. Ministry has become about money, talent, and comfort, three things that dominate many pastoral meetings, conversations, and interviews. These things are important, but we need to let go of ourselves and minister in God's name and in His power. Then the truth of God will prevail, and we won't have to worry about inferiority complexes in other Christians. (I'll save my many thoughts about inferiority complexes also being too much about us.)

Interesting Follow-Up

You'll never guess what happened this morning. I represented BBC at a Christian school that was strongly focused on ministry and spiritual depth! Just about the time I thought I should give up on Christian schools, the Lord reminded me that He really is behind these ministries. The school's chaplain is legitimately encouraging spiritual depth, telling the students there is no point in being in Christian school without active faith. YES!! It's so much better when we can actually perceive God's truth in places that claim to teach it.

Spiritual depth

What ever happened to spiritual depth? I guess I shouldn't be so extreme with that statement, but I can't believe how shallow Christian "depth" can be sometimes. For example, why on earth would a parent ever dedicate their child to the Lord if they know deep down they would be upset if their child ever went far from home or (gasp) entered God's full-time ministry? Seriously, when did going into ministry stop being an honor? I feel as though ministry is a great calling, a very high spiritual honor, a humbling responsibility. I'm pretty sure that there aren't many people like me anymore. Even testimonies of those pursuing God's call often start with, "I never wanted to be in ministry, but I guess I had to." I've spent a lot of time in Christian schools lately, and I've been shocked that NOT ONE student in a CHRISTIAN high school feels led to ministry. The profiles I've been handed by guidance counselors talk a lot about being accepted into schools and being "as good as public schools."

It seems to me that we're walking a fine line. Christians don't want to be called anymore; we don't want to go out on a limb for God. (Yes, I know that all you BBC students are arguing with me in your minds right now because most of you are the exception.) We don't want the world to look at us and say, "Christian schools aren't as good;" "Christians aren't as smart or successful;" or "Christians don't make enough money." What?! None of those things has ANYTHING to do with our faith. Seriously, Christians, where are we dropping the ball? We've traded truly knowing Christ for a "relevance" that has more to do with being worldly than with connecting with those around us. Is this why Christ asked whether He'd find anyone faithful upon His return?

Salvation

Hi, everyone! Yes, it's been awhile. Many things have happened...at least in the Brewer family. :) Sorry, Mark, but I'm glad about Emily's first steps/marathon. All I've done is to travel. I love admissions!

Okay, here's the deal. Communion is such an important thing for its lack of excitement in many churches. I am convinced that we've allowed something strange to happen in our worship. When participating in the Lord's Supper, we were asked to do it in remembrance of Christ. We do this. How do we do it? We talk about Christ's death and resurrection, remembering what happened way back when. That's what salvation seems to be to so many people - something that happened way back when. While Christ's death and resurrection happened way back when, salvation was not a one-time thing. Salvation did not happen simply at the death and resurrection without any further action on the part of Father, Son, or Spirit. Truthfully, we are still being saved. Today God is saving me through Christ by the Spirit. Today God's power forgives me, redeems me, restores me, and frees me for powerful living. Today I am being saved. When Christ told us to practice the Lord's Supper in remembrance of Him, was He talking about remembering Him as an individual, or was He talking about remembering Him as an eternal saving agent? Should we remember the action without remembering who the Lord really is? No way.

Missing People

No, this isn't about milk cartons. "Missing" here is a verb, not an adjective. Natasha and I were just talking about missing some very good friends of ours around here. I looked forward to BBC's students being around this year MUCH more than I did last year. However, the only problem with that is that some of our very good friends aren't here now. Some of you have posted about missing us recently. What we have to say is that BBC is nice, but we miss those good friends who just aren't around anymore. So, good friends, near and far, you're loved by a very schmultzy couple tonight.

Lynns

Okay, so the wedding's over, folks. I don't think we've attended a less detailed wedding. I found out three hours before the event that my bro expected me to be the emcee. No problem, but that is one of many things that stuck out to me. They had worked so hard on a good day but had forgotten some incredibly important details. At the end of the day, though, we noticed three things:

1) It was beautiful. Details are for the birds. Ben teared up when Lynn walked down the aisle. Allison sounded beautiful. I saw friends and family I haven't seen in years. My dad really made everything great for Ben and Lynn. The Lord was there. A relative came up to us and reminded us that there are a few people on my side of our family who remember that it was bittersweet to see all the family at the wedding though none came to ours. We were able to get Ben and Lynn into an emergency first-night suite due to weather. Beautiful.

2) We've been to WAY too many weddings. We concurred on that when we asked Ben and Lynn more detail questions than either mother who helped in planning the day.

3) There are now two Lynn Erskines in my family. Only one is a man.

Why We Do Things

When I sit here on a night 36 hours before my department's annual D-Day I am grateful to be in this position. (I'm also grateful I'm not being graded on that awkward wording.) It's satisfying to know that soon there will be somewhere in the vicinity of 300 people around me, all training for the Lord's work. It's incredible to think that all this stress and these unknowns point to a moving experience spiritually and emotionally. I'm glad for the job I have, the ministry I have, and I realize why we do it. Sometimes I wonder why we Christian ministers slog it out. Then there are times like this. Stressful, yes. Busy, yes. Intense, yes. Overall, a great time!

Best man

I'm the best man in my brother's wedding, and he finally gave me something to do. He has been great about sharing his excitement, but he wasn't convinced that he needed to share the work till recently. I came up with a pretty good bachelor's party (for "clean" people), but I'm a little nervous about how it will turn out. It's going to be pretty low key. Finish the wedding rehearsal, go to a sports bar or something, and hang out. The thing is, that's what he wants! I know I didn't want anything spectacular, but it's different when you're the one planning it. He'll love it - wings, peanuts, sports, and he'll probably have a beer. Sounds relaxing for him. It will be fun for all of us there. Why is it, though, that such a relaxing and fun evening seems only to add to the stress I have?

Reading Blogs

I have had three conversations in the last week about blog-reading. One was with someone who loves reading blogs. The other two were making fun of people who read blogs. At least one of the people who made fun of reading blogs has a blog. That struck me very odd. How many of you make fun of blog-readers? You may as well admit it - you just read my blog.

Sasquatch

Okay, so Grady has been blogging fodder recently. Let's move to Sasquatch now. Sure, Sasquatch is a legend, but aren't legends fun? Let's exchange urban legends. On your mark, get set... wait! These cannot simply be urban legends you found on the Internet because you haven't heard any or can't think of good enough ones on your own. Okay, now ...go!

True Story

Okay, this will be a little long, but I have an amazing testimony to share with you! Terry and Kevin are friends of mine who work in Moncton. Kevin sells cars and recently took Terry to Halifax to pick up a car. They each drove a car back to Moncton, Kevin in the lead, Terry behind.

Terry says there was a semi doing at least 130 km/h (82 mph) down the highway on the return from Halifax. He was following a small car from Ontario, while Kevin was several cars ahead. The semi passed Terry and the Ontario car and was caught behind a slower vehicle. The semi driver didn't pass right away. The Ontario driver, whose family was originally Chinese, decided to pass the semi and the slower vehicle. As the Chinese man pulled out, he noticed that the semi was coming over into his right fender. He slammed on his brakes to avoid being run down the embankment on the left side of the highway.

The brakes were applied too hard, the car spun a little, and they flipped over several times. Terry watched as the car flipped over, and the fourteen-year-old girl in the backseat was thrown out of the vehicle by the force of the crash. The still-flipping car crashed on top of her then flipped off. Terry had pulled over and cell phoned Kevin by the time the car came to rest. While Kevin drove ahead to look for a spot to turn around, Terry ran across the highway to the totaled vehicle.

On the way he passed the unconscious girl who lay mangled by the side of the road. Upon reaching the car he found that the girl's mom was unconscious, bleeding badly, and suffering a severed arm in the passenger seat. The father was conscious and struggling to move out of his seatbelt. Terry ran to him and told him not to move in case he had serious injuries. The man babbled something deliriously, and Terry felt prompted by the Holy Spirit to ask if the man were Christian. He asked. He waited and asked again. Finally the man said, "Jesus...in my heart." Terry was glad and offered to pray with him. The two men prayed together and had a conversation.

After the prayer, Terry called 911. They weren't far from Halifax, but they were far enough that the dispatcher told Terry how to check some vital signs. All three people in the accident were in terrible condition. He continued talking to the dad. When the paramedics arrived, they tried to help him, but the man kept asking them to help his daughter first. The paramedic didn't follow his instruction, so Terry said, "He said to check his daughter first." The paramedic looked at him funny and said, "Whatever, man. He's babbling." Terry insisted, so they checked the daughter first. Kevin was there by this time and helped carry the mother to a stretcher. Terry helped with the daughter.

Once back in Moncton, neither Kevin nor Terry could sleep. Terry witnessed the whole thing, and both men were affected by the condition of the car and the gory state in which they found the family. Terry called the hospital, who would tell them nothing other than the fact that the family were all alive in the ICU. He left his number in case anyone would be willing to call from the Chinese family.

Later that day Terry got a call. It was a pastor of a Chinese church in Halifax. Apparently, the Chinese man is an assistant pastor at a Chinese church in Toronto and had just been a guest to the Halifax church. He and his family were on their way home when the accident occurred. The pastor let Terry know that the Chinese man and his family were all alive and improving. The dad was doing relatively well. The mom had surgery that reattached her arm and was recovering. The daughter would need many surgeries, but she was approved to go home with her family.

Terry said, "Praise the Lord!! Why didn't the man call if he's doing okay? May I please speak with him again?"

The pastor said, "Well, I'm sure you can, but I doubt you want to." When Terry asked why not, the pastor continued, "That assistant pastor can't speak one word of English. You'd never understand him."

If that doesn't give you a "Wow! God's amazing!" moment, then you should get to know Him a little better. :)

Grady

Okay, so I almost cannot believe that I just read Grady's name on my blog. Grady is the best, and I've missed him like bananas. He's cool like slugs on a porcupine and is married to Danielle, the cat's pajamas. Man, Grady, here's a shout-out to you just because I've thought about you and prayed about you so much in the past months (years?). I'm glad things are good, and I hope I'm not the only one who was glad to see you around these parts. God has lifted a burden from my heart in reading your comment (seriously), and I celebrate your procreation with great vigor!

I love Grady. I love Danielle. I love Jandon. I love baby Grady.

If you haven't heard Grady sing, he's the only person I know who made me wish I was listening to someone other than Dana Ingersoll (who did an AMAZING job at Beulah) sing "Now More Than Ever." I'm too excited to keep writing. If you know and love Grady, would you please post something here? Seriously. If you don't, as many of you likely will not, just believe that he is the best.

Thinking

If crazy thinking that drives one to start a blog happens late at night, then great thinking happens in the shower. Why is that? Is it because showers wake us up in the morning, thus stimulating our thinking? Is it the steady stream of warmth that pelts our bodies? Is it because we have nothing better to do while we go through the mindless morning hygiene rituals?

In the last week I've planned my tenth anniversary, developed an admissions counseling training packet, and put together a hypothetical worship "concert" for us - all in the combined one hour and twenty minutes I've spent in the shower.

Since I know I'm not the only one, why is this, really?

Babies Everywhere

Last night Heather said she thinks everyone is pregnant. (I'm not. My wife's not. Heather's not...at least, not that I know of.) Anyway, I couldn't think of many people. She listed off some and convinced me. Jess R., Jenn M., Kristi T., Kelly T., Virnna S., and the list goes on. Then I started thinking of all the babies born recently. My perfect niece, Destiny Dawn. Gabriel Robert, born to some old friends of mine. Asa, whose middle name I forget. Brett and Danyel's baby must be born by now. It's wild, really. Is this just my age? Does everyone feel like all your friends are having babies around 24? Or is there something going around? Baby fever?

What Are We Saying?

So, let's talk eternal security. Some Christians in favor of eternal security say it's proposterous that anyone once saved could ever become un-saved. They say if a Christian stops honoring the Lord and chooses to embrace sin, then they were probably not saved to begin with. Otherwise, the person's lifestyle would reflect their faith. Other Christians not in favor of eternal security say it's proposterous to assume that a Christian will always be saved simply because of a one-time deal. They believe that a person can willfully choose to walk away from the Lord. Otherwise, the person's lifestyle would reflect their faith.

Is it possible that we all believe the same thing, only looking at it from different sides of the same coin? (Of course, Christian interpretation sometimes seems to have as many sides as a Scattergories cube rather than the two of a coin.)

Something to Remember

I remembered something tonight that I doubt I'll ever forget. While driving home from the airport, the student with me said, "You know, I love doing things in the rain." All I could think about was the night in the rain. (If you're offended by mushy things, please move on to another post.)

Natasha and I went to my family's house for Easter weekend. We had been dating only a short period of time. Kissing and holding hands were still new between the two of us. (They still feel new.) We held hands, walking through the streets of Millsboro, Delaware. We passed houses, the school, a few churches. I wanted to show her Cupalo Park, a very nice area in the small town, when it started to rain. Our conversation had been very sweet, and as I looked over at her, she seemed to shine with beauty. The rain picked up, and there we were in Cupalo Park, in a downpour. The rain was warm and steady, and I had the urge to kiss Natasha. So I did. It was a Bethany-appropriate kiss, for those of you who actually buy the "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" bondage. Still, it was a perfect kiss. We just stood there for a moment, realizing that we just had a movie moment. I'll never forget how pure and romantic that evening was. I'll never forget how exhilirated I felt on our walk back to my parents' place.

The moral of this story: Remember. Your relationships will be better because of it.

Child Prodigy?

So, on my business trip to Maryland, Delaware, and Virginia I did a drive-by "Suprise! Happy Father's Day!" to my dad. He was shocked, as was the whole family. It was especially delightful to see my baby sister, Bailey, again. She looks a lot like me when I was a baby. (Hopefully the cute will last for her.) She is also a child prodigy like I was...okay, you're right, I wasn't. She, however, is seventeen (17) months old and counted out loud to ten while I held her on Saturday. Yeah...counted to ten. I even understood what she was saying. I know three year olds that can't even count to ten yet. Sheesh.

Before you are impressed to strongly to send your calculus assignments to this little prodigy, bear in mind that she won't walk. That's right, won't. She can; I saw her. She just prefers to crawl. In other words, she's smart enough to count, but she's not smart enough to realize that walking is faster and more efficient. Hmmm....prodigy?

Oh, yeah, for those of you that know me well enough to get this, she rocks in her (stationary) chair when she's excited or hears music.

When People Aren't People

I've been on the road most of the past three weeks. One of the things I do when I travel is listen to talk radio. Yes, I'm a talk radio junkie. I don't agree with everything I hear, but I'm a fan of people like Dr. Laura, Rush Limbaugh (really rubs me the wrong way), Lars Larson, and most anything from the BBC.

While listening to talk radio on my recent trips I realized that somewhere along the line our "tolerant" super-society has broken down what it means to be human. On Rush's show earlier today, a caller said about the terrorists against whom George Bush is fighting, "Why should we treat them like people? They're not people; they're terrorists. They don't deserve to be treated well." Really, caller? They aren't people?

Lars Larson held a discussion two weeks ago in which he asked the listeners whether or not they would allow doctors to alter their DNA if they could absolutely be sure to prevent a baby being born with something like Down's, Asberger's, or Lou Gherig's. The common consensus was, "Sure. After all, isn't it more cruel not to use our technology to prevent people from denegrating into those diseases that make us less than human? (I'm not exaggerating that word choice.)

When did people stop being people simply because they have evil in their hearts or because of disease? I thought being human meant having body, mind, will, emotions, and a soul. I thought being human had less to do with a particular character type than with who we "are." Clearly I'm off base here. It's scary that we live in a world in which we can call our enemies "unhuman." That certainly sets the stage for self-granted authoritarian cruelty in the name of humanity. It's scary that we can manipulate our genes so that we only have perfect babies. The last time someone tried to create a superior race of people (Milosovic), the US bombarded the Balkans. Yet, it's okay for us because we're not mean like Hitler, Polpot, or Milosovic. We're not committing genocide, so it's okay if we create a superior race.

Friends, especially Christians, this is no good. Being a person has nothing to do with meeting the North American standard of human living. God have mercy.

Holter Monitors

I never heard of a holter monitor until very recently. My doctor asked me to have one when I went to visit him last month, simply as a safety precaution. I looked it up to find that it's a small box attached to my belt clip that is connected to several wires. At the end of those wires are several sticky pads attached to various parts of my torso. Electricity is going through my body right now, just to be sure that my heart is functioning well. I'm supposed to record anything weird that happens. Don't you hate it when they tell you that? That only places ideas in your head. I've had this on for one hour and have wondered, "Is my breath short? Was that a chest pain? Am I too warm?" Psychosomatic symptoms are fun, aren't they?

On a different note, my niece Destiny Dawn Emmerson was born on my birthday last week!

Has It Really Been This Long?

Yes, it has. I can't believe how long it's been since I've blogged. It's actually been a nice release for me since I've started it, but you know how life goes. Shortly after my last blog came the "Intense Two Weeks of Doom" at ATS. I had more to do than I care ever to have again. Between the last papers and exams at ATS, the travel and office work at BBC, and regular life, it was all I could do to think the word "blog," let alone do it. Now I'm done. I've even had five days of let-down time, part of which was a relaxing Victoria Day. This is the first mental break I've had since summer 2003. It feels really good. Here's a shout-out to my dear AP, whose blog you should read (therealap.blogspot.com), who graduated Saturday along with my soon-to-be-local-again friend Andrew.

Speaking of shout-outs, if anyone sees Scottie and he's not running, kick him in the rear. (How's that for accountability, Scottie?)

Getting To It

How many times in the last week have you looked outside (on the nice days) and said to yourself, "What a nice day for exercise!" or something like that? How many times have you done it?

I shouldn't be using the pronoun "you" up there; I should be saying "I." I've looked outside and thought, "It's warming up again. I should get back to last year's exercise plan." Then I lay in bed, enjoying the laziness. People, you need to know this - I AM LAZY. Lazy like lazy. However, it hit me that I need to move it if I'm going to stop dreaming about getting back in shape. I'm not in shape, but I'm glad to say I'm getting to it.

What's the point, you ask? Annoy me this summer, friends. Ask me, post on my blog, whatever...just annoy me by asking if I'm outside. Just beware that I believe equally yoked relationships are the best, so I might return the favor. :) (Misery loves company, in other words.)

The Ruff in the Diamonds

Friday morning I sat among hundreds of people to celebrate the commencement of 41 brothers and sisters in Christ who are going out into the ministry. The speaker was perhaps the best commencement speaker I've ever heard, and he was arguably the best speaker I've heard, period. He spoke about the Christian pilgrimage in a way that inspired all of us to march forward in the name of the Lord. His speech was full of jewels of wisdom and understanding.

At one point in the speech, the speaker gave an illustration that was intended to show the manner in which Christian pilgrims should follow God's adventure. The illustration, however, did something very funny to me. In the middle of all the good words, I felt offended. The speaker began by saying, "If it were up to my wife, the United States would never have been settled west of Boston." After a brief chortle, he moved on to explain the pioneer spirit that led the early settlers west to take land. He called it "free" land. The moment he said, "free land," all I could think of was my Native American grandmother and those of our relatives who are in no-man's land somewhere on a reservation because white people took the "free" land. My emotions flooded with disappointment that such a learned, eloquent man would join generations of ignorant people who have overlooked my native ancestors for years. "But you're white!" you say. Yes, I am. However, being white with native ancestors, I've heard both sides of the story. Yes, the pioneers were amazing. Yes, they fought vigilently to settle mostly untamed land. Yes, they are excellent examples of people who face adversity to get what they want. Far be it from us, however, to overlook the fact that they are also fine examples of robbers, murderers, connivers, torturers, rapists (of people and the land), and manipulaters who put my "uncivilized" ancestors into organized land. The only reason my native relatives didn't have land is because they didn't have flags to stick in the dirt like the white people.

For what it's worth, I spoke about my hurt feelings to a friend earlier today and was told, "What's your problem? The Indians didn't have anything. It was free land." If you're white and you think this, you're wrong. Perhaps some of the land was free, but as a rule, the natives shared and honored the land. Imagine if another, more "civilized" culture came here after us. They might look at us and move us around as "uncivilized" people. When things happen to us from foreign invaders, we call that terrorism. Yet, when we do it to others, we call it pioneering. Now that this is somewhat out of my system, I expect at least half a dozen white people to tell me how off-base I am. I welcome your comments and reserve the right not to reply, simply because you know what I'll say.

Back Home

You know, it can be very difficult not to be "back home" when you feel like you need to be there. I received an e-mail from my sister that reminded me of a lack of spiritual formation she has at home. Don't get me wrong. She lives with my dad (mostly, with some time at mom's...the proverbial joint custody thing) who is a strong speaker and a good pastor. He has been part of spiritual formation for literally hundreds of people in his lifetime. However, things are very stressful at home. My sister feels as though there's no one to support her spiritual walk or her call to the global mission field. Fortunately, I'm aware that I'm not the answer. God is. (Praise His name!) I do wonder, though, why it seems so difficult for pastors' homes to be full of peace and spiritual security? Why does there have to be new trauma every time I call home or go home? I guess we all have this story. What's yours?

Noel-Levitz

They're doing a Noel-Levitz survey on our campus right now. As soon as I read the e-mail I received about it, I could just hear the moans coming out of our students' mouths. Of course, there are some students who probably jumped on it right away. Not everyone hates surveys. However, I know that somewhere deep down, so many students have probably already disregarded it.

You know who the people are that haven't filled out the surveys yet? The ones who complain the most about the school. Funny how it works that way. Maybe it's just a personality thing. I, for one, would love to have had the chance to speak my mind while I was a student, even if that meant filling out a Noel-Levitz survey. Noel-Levitz has no connection to the school, so I would have answered exactly how I felt and would have made sure my voice was heard.

Too many people assume their voice won't be heard. Well, think of it this way. If the only people who are willing to fill out this survey are the keeners (and you know who I mean), then that's the only perspective that the staff and faculty have from the students. If more people fill it out, then it's a more honest reflection of what students think.

Anyway, I'm not a student, so I'm wasting my breath.

Priests and Pharisees

The president of our college spoke very poignantly yesterday about the difference between priests and pharisees. (Well, at least this was one point.) He rightly noted that priests bring the Word/words of the Lord and truly care for people. Pharisees, on the other hand, are ministry experts who "do" things well but who lack the power of God and His Word. Pharisees, he said, came from priests but made other matters more important. You know, folks, the president is right about this. We are called to be priests if we're ministers. We need not to let all those other things get in the way.

"Yeah, yeah, Lynn, we've heard it," you say? Trust me, this post is for your own good. Speaking directly from personal experience, we need to be very cautious as we try to find our ministry placements. While we want to be priests, there are many churches who would actually prefer pharisees. A "talented" minister looks awfully good. Wait it out in prayer; God will send you somewhere in which people actually want a priest.

Non-Philosophical Question

Why am I here, really? I'm not talking about my existence, at least existentially speaking. I'm asking why on earth I live where I do, doing what I do. Sure, I get all the spiritual reasons like, "I'm called," and "It's God's plan for me right now." Honestly, though, I just don't get it today. Just to whine for a moment, it's snowing on April 12! Spring has been here for weeks, and suddenly the world wants to revert back to winter. I'm hanging on to find out whether I can be here in Canada permanently, yet I'm setting down roots in a job here. Instead of doing hands-on, frontline ministry I'm doing an office job. Sure, I'm technically impacting more people than if I were out on the missions field somewhere, but this certainly isn't what I thought I'd be doing. Natasha and I love it here, but it just seems too different than what either of us had hoped for on days like today. Days like today are the kind of days when we just sit here and ponder. As it turns out, we're here because we're called here and because it's God's plan for us right now...seriously though.

Anybody else have circular reasoning days like this?

Another Kind of Prejudice

I left my house this morning, having forgotten to put on my glasses. Why? Prejudice, that's why. Natasha and I were talking yesterday when I found out she was made the topic of prejudice again. She gets that a lot. So do I, for that matter. (We're equally yoked that way.) People tend to think of Natasha one way and one way only, refusing to get to know her or what makes her tick. For example, Natasha and some friends from the BBC women's ministry recently invited some engaged girls to sit in on their next bi-weekly meeting. One engaged girl said, "I hope she realizes I'm not into all that girly-girl stuff." She obviously doesn't know Natasha or what makes her tick. She obviously doesn't know that the women's ministry doesn't meet every other Tuesday for discussion and spiritual enrichment. She obviously doesn't realize that the majority of the women in the group aren't girly. She obviously doesn't realize that Natasha isn't girly. Natasha's just pegged that way a lot. Sure, she likes dressing well. Sure, she likes her house to look good. She enjoys the company of other girls. The prejudiced engaged girl likes all those things, too. What is good to her is somewhat different than what's good to Natasha, though, so of course Natasha is labeled "girly." Natasha is beautiful, a good singer, a source of wisdom, a strong support, an encourager of peace, and a lover of everyone she meets. So, she is prejudged as a "good" or "girly" girl. Nevertheless, she has to work hard on her homework, to make it a point to keep us both on track with housework, and to force herself to ignore her pain disorder to get out of bed. She has a fun sense of humor, a sassy attitude, a deep sense of worship, a level headed approach to what she knows about life, and the kind of personality that people would flock to if they weren't so busy putting her in a box.

Oops...looks like Lynn went off on his wife again. You can think that, but that's just putting me in a prejudice box here too. I didn't just go off on my wife. I went off on our prejudgments and how they limit us. Instead of commenting on this post, please do yourselves a favor. Think about the last time someone didn't get to know you before they talked about you. Then go out and get to know someone before you prejudge again.

No Time

I rarely feel busy. People tell me I'm busy, and I tell them I'm busy, but I don't feel busy. That is, until I think about blogging. I love blogging. What an outlet for me! I enjoy reading my friends' blogs. I enjoy investing time in this. I've even come up with at least one blog every day since my last post. Yet, I haven't posted. Why? NO TIME! That's a farce. We have time. We just don't spend it how we want to/how we should (depending on priorities). My priority is not my blog, but I love it. I need to disengage in it. I need to write in it. This incoherent post is my way of saying, "Down with no time! I'm taking the 90 seconds it takes to type this just to have the satisfaction of taking a moment to breathe." In. Out. It feels good. Try it.

Heaven

I was standing outside a moment ago talking to a good friend about Heaven. When was the last time I did that? When was the last time I honestly thought about what it is going to be like? When was the last time you did? I'm not talking about the last time you sat and recited the common, "No more tears, no more pain, no more..." blah, blah, blah. Sure, those things are true, but when was the last time you actually thought about Heaven? What is it going to be like? Are we even really looking forward to it, brothers and sisters (if you are one)? When was the last time you daydreamed about being there, worshiping, becoming one with Christ? Seriously, everyone, what do you think about heaven?

We all love politics

Politics have such a negative connotation, and can't we see why? I should say here that I'm not talking about Bush, Martin, Blair, Sharon, or any of these world leaders. I'm talking about the regular politics of our lives. You know, the politics that govern with whom we spend time, whom we ask to do what tasks, to whom we grant honor. That kind of politics. Often politicking seems a menial exercise that frustrates people who have to "put on the dog," reenforces people who have too much dog put on already, and ignores people who need more dog. Last night, however, I think I saw one of the best examples of appropriate politics that's been around in awhile. Though I rarely agree with extravagance spent on worthless politics, I participated with a music group to perform before a group at a banquet last night. Was this banquet for all the up and coming, all the staff and faculty, all the big donors? No. It was for the people who labor in the ministry, for those in our community who give of themselves freely, for those unsung heroes in and among us who really deserve it. (Of course, the powers that be were still there.) In a place that often tests my patience with political practices, I was impressed to see some "just" politicking going on last night.

Three Strikes, You're Out

I know I'm learning a lot about ministry. I know I don't understand much of what happens in my own ministry in a given week. However, one thing I know is that God's grace is perfectly sufficient for us. What do "Three Strikes" have to do with grace, you ask? (If not, just go along with it.)

I just read an e-mail from a friend in ministry. We've been dialoguing about leadership lately. He said that he feels we need to stop doing things for people. He clarified by saying, "We need to serve, not condone bad behavior." So far, I agreed. Then he said something like, "We need to help people the first time they mess up, give them a little more responsibility the next time, and if they mess up more than three times, it's time for us to let them wake up on their own." By not doing things for people, I originally thought he was referring to responsibilities in the church. However, it became clear that he thinks effective Christian leadership means discipling someone to a point. If they don't get it from there, they're probably too far gone. Thank the Lord that Jesus never had that mindset with Peter...or with me! Grace is sufficient even with those who need more time, folks. Effective Christian leadership may mean rebuking bad behavior and avoiding co-dependency, but it NEVER means cutting people off. What if we as Christian leaders are the only conduit through which God's grace is actually being accepted by someone? Who are we to control God's grace? When did we cross this line?

Thinking Late at Night Again

(Yes, I know...I'm double-posting again.)

I was thinking late at night again, everyone. (Funny how I say "everyone" when I know few people read this, in the grand scheme of things.) We all know how dangerous this is, but this time it was good. I almost called this post "Precious" because of the guy with whom I was thinking, but I assumed you all would think he was actually Smeagol. (He wasn't.)

I think about people a lot. When I see people, it doesn't take long for me to gather an impression. Usually I get rid of my initial impressions because that's called pre-judging or prejudice (please see my post about homosexuals). However, I occasionally see people whose impressions on me are so great that I rejoice when they are correct. I was up late the other night, thinking with one such person. This guy's life reminds me that emotions and good relationships are so valuable that you might even call them precious. While some people guard their time and money, which do nothing but waste away, others guard their hearts and minds. Hearts and minds can be developed. Emotions are beautiful (even negative ones). Relationships are treasures. In a world that values many things at the expense of emotions and relationships, it felt good to be reminded that these are time-honored blessings. If you know the Jew (you know whom I mean) and you don't have this impression, then you should stand back and take a longer look.

Baptism

I experienced a phenomenal time of worship on Sunday. My participation in the service as part of a guest ministry team to the church kept me on the stage for the duration of the service. Two baptisms opened the service. Here's how they went:

The first person was in the baptismal with the senior pastor, who asked questions for a profession of faith. The person then gave testimony to the goodness of the Lord. The person was baptised, and the cycle repeated for the next person.

The amazing thing was the sense of celebration that occurred among some of the people in the church. I am so used to people just sitting and watching a baptism as if it's just another thing those Christians do. However, there was a small handful of people that seemed to recognize that baptism is really a sacrament. In other words, they recognized the fact that the baptisees were participating in the real presence of the Lord. When did we lose this concept as a church? How can Christians sit glibly in church yawning while someone professes their faith and emerges from the waters of baptism as a new person?

What to Do with Those F*gs

Did that title get your attention? I hope so. I'm not normally this upset when I blog. You're probably not as upset reading it as you will be soon. If you are a fundamentalist Christian, don't bother reading on. You already have me condemned from the title, and this blog will only make it worse. If you want to read about one of the biggest crimes of our culture, read on.

Today I met a friend for the first time face-to-face. He and I have e-mailed a few times, mostly about business. I knew early on that something was hurting my friend. He was a Christian brother, but something was "off." He had skeletons in his closet, and something was really hurting him. I suspected that his skeletons had to do with something sexual, since he spoke about his skeletons in broad terms like "thought life" and would only talk on the phone if he felt he were in a safe place. Our meeting today helped me to realize that I was somewhat correct. He wanted to talk, but he was nervous. When we established that I wasn't going to hurt him and probably wouldn't be shocked, he began to describe his tendency to same-sex attraction. What bothered me most about the conversation was the way he told me he had been treated by those from whom he asked for help. He had been ostracized, shamed, put aside. One pastor even said, "Look...just stop being attracted to men!" Easy for a straight person to say. My friend admitted he wasn't trying to be attracted to other men. He said he didn't even want to live a homosexual lifestyle. He said he agreed with the Christian idea that homosexual activity was sin. Still, he wanted help in overcoming it. He viewed attraction as temptation (reasonable, I think) rather than a biological thing. He said that while some people are born with a tendency to lie, others to kill, others to steal, he was born with a tendency to same-sex relationships. The only problem is that his sin was the only sin that is rarely discussed in Christian circles. He described his spiritual and devotional life and proceeded to describe his homosexual life. He felt trapped in a double life with no family or friend support. In fact, there was only hostility.

How can we Christians have the nerve to say something like, "We just need to love homosexuals." Sure, we need to love them, but are we doing it? No. How many of us would willingly sit for three hours listening to a guy whose life is upside-down, whose spirit was crying out, whose temptations led him to a lifestyle that we all call "disgusting" or an "abomination." We are so busy trying to spread the truth in "love" that we're not acting on the love we claim. Men and women with same-sex attraction have been the blunt of many jokes, have accrued many nicknames (like "f*g), and have sat at the edges of our "Christian" culture, longing to be part of a loving culture. We don't let them, though. They're different. All of you people reading this who think you're open-minded: do you do anything to get to know homosexual people? Do you sit with them and listen without telling them how bad they are? Do you hang out with them, or are you afraid to be "condoning" that lifestyle? Even if we do all these things, are our Christian circles safe enough that ANY person with ANY sin can speak freely about it? Are our churches places where people can be themselves enough to vent their feelings and sins and to be ready to grow after the fact? We dropped the ball on this a long time ago, Christians. We treat homosexual people as if they were a completely separate type of person. If homosexual people were another race, much of what we do to them would be a hate crime. We need to stop condemning their sin until we've acknowledged our sins in the way we approach the homosexual lifestyle.

I hope this was coherent. My heart is going out to an entire subculture of hurting people who feel something deep down for which they can't ask for help. Somewhere far away from most of you readers tonight is a guy who's hurting very deeply, longing for God, without any idea of how he can face the Lord with the sexual thoughts that plague his mind. I love that brother, and I can't wait for the Lord to make up for my deficiencies in relating to my homosexual friends.

In Limbo

There is nothing like feeling like you're in limbo. Right now I have left messages on more phones than I can count, leaving me hanging in the air, waiting for a response. I feel like I'm the kid on that Kodak commercial. You know the one, the kid is hanging in midair, tucked into the perfect cannonball position, ready to make a big splash in his swimming pool. Suddenly, in a quasi-Steven King way, his head turns and he speaks from the portrait, "Mom, I'm still hanging here!" Print those digital pictures and the kid won't be left hanging anymore, or so Kodak would have you think. Unfortunately, the kid's left hanging in that picture inside a photo album forever...or at least until the photo fades. Anyway, I'm that kid right now, waiting for business calls, personal calls, etc., etc., etc. It feels like loose ends are everywhere and I'm rushing around to tie them all up. It's almost exhilerating. (Call me back anyway, chums!)

Take Me for a Ride

What is it about college admissions that makes people want to lie? I am an admissions counselor for a conservative Christian institution, but it still happens. Every day potential students line up to lie to me. "I'm just searching my options," they say. "I might send in an application or something," others will say. Why not just tell me, "Hey. Get off the phone with me. I don't remember asking you for information about your school. I used to think Bible school would be good, but not now. I won't get rich doing it." That would save me some time, allow me to work with the people who should really be training for Christian ministry. Of course, that wouldn't be polite, they think, so they keep taking me for rides every day. I wonder if my ride will be in a Chevette or an Aston Martin today?

Why don't you go blog about it?

Being grown up is funny. We like to think we've arrived at a whole new level of life and maturity. Of course I know we have, but it seems sometimes that we're all just big kids. The Jew and I were in a music rehearsal earlier when I started kvetching about something. I don't even remember what it was that had me in a mood. I just wouldn't be quiet. So, instead of saying something like, "Shvayg!" or "Why don't you go cry about it," the Jew said, "Why don't you go blog about it?" That's great. Honestly. Instead of kicking me out of the sandbox and saying something immature, we can now play our instruments together and send each other to our respective blogs. Then I can kvetch away, leaving you all with all my dreck. (For those who read this blog--aside from being among the few and proud--this was just me having a little fun with a true story and some Yiddish.)

Marriage Jokes

I spent a fun-filled evening on a "Cruise" last evening! KV holds an annual cruise dinner in which they transform the whole complex into a pseudo-cruise ship for a dinner theater (or theatre, if you're Canadian or from the UK). They did a fine job with decor, and the meal was fabulous! Aside from the treacherous weather conditions that I never should've driven in for over two hours, only one thing about the evening left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Marriage jokes. I hate them. When I was engaged I would hear marriage jokes all the time, referring to women's control-hungriness, men's lack of relational understanding, and an overall lack of freedom. People would warn, "I hope you know what you're getting into." They might joke, "Enjoy these last few weeks of happiness while you have it." Last night one joke was made to an acting couple who had "been married" for 25 years: "Oh...25 years of misery!" Jokes like that continued all night.

I resent such trivial treatment of marriage. Marriage is actually a wonderful time of life when you and your significant other are able to become one, to share all of life together, to enjoy love, to live out friendship. Of course, that requires something more than most of us are willing to give. You hear that marriage requires a lot of work. I suppose that's true, but we have the wrong idea of work. We think we need to work on getting along, work on changing the other person, work on being right. However, what we really need to do is to work on thinking always of the other person first. We need to look at the other person's needs first. We need to think of their desires, their wishes, their sorrows, their...whatever. Our needs will be met by the other person because that kind of true love is reciprocated. Marriage seems less like work when we actually love the other person with the other person in focus. Then we don't have to feel we have less freedom, less happiness, less anything. (I think I will do a D-group about this some time.)

Napoleon Dynamite

I may be the only person on earth who has not yet seen this movie. I've been psyched about it until recently when a friend said to me, "Honestly, it's not that good. It has no plot. But quoting it is really funny!" If that's the case, maybe I'll just eavesdrop on everyone's conversations and fit in with good quotes. If the movie's not that good, why the hype?

Testimony

I'm very big on testifying to God's action in my life. I just don't always do it because He's always up to something, it seems. Regardless, what follows is a very scaled down version of a change for freedom in my heart.

Without going into too much detail, I have been involved in worship ministry in one way or another since I was 12. In high school I was the main worship leader at my dad's church for church services, special events, VBS, and anything people needed. In addition to being a worship leader, I was also a worship thinker. I felt something was "off" in people's worship: that God wasn't really the center. While my dad helped me realize my need for my own relationship with God, he argued with me about worship styles, songs in church, music and performance, etc., etc., etc. He (and a few other mentors) seemed to be more focused on the "things" of worship rather than using those "things" for worship. I didn't care though because I was about to go to Bible college and learn more about worship ministry.

College started off great. Those with direct influence over my development in worship ministry had vibrant relationships with God, challenging me to make God the center of our worship. Nevertheless, the more time I spent at college, the more I realized that "things" of worship were important even to some godly leaders at school. By the time I started my internship as a worship pastor during my senior year, I was convinced that my time in the church would allow me to disciple people toward true worship.

My internship didn't do that. The church was great, but I quickly developed the idea that no pastor alive really wanted a worship pastor. They only wanted good musicians with professional skills. That hurt and confusion came at the worst time; the worst year of my personal life began in the midst of my worship crisis. The only place I found solace and outlet was in discipling others, so I decided that would be my ministry. My current job allows counseling and mobilizing the Church, so I jumped on it and hope to stay here for a while (God willing).

However, last week I was confronted by a worship pastor and senior pastor whose worship philosophy matches mine almost word-for-word. The confusion of 2002 returned, but I quickly realized that the confusion had never left. I had made worship pastors and church music out to be a pithy response to God, and the Holy Spirit was ready to change my heart. I was afraid when I confessed aloud my sin of belittling God and His worship, declaring my desire for openness. I have never felt such freedom in my life! I have been in a constant state of worship in song, in the Word, in prayer, in...everything...for over a week. I can tell this change is permanent. God convicted me of a hard heart, and His grace changed me. Hallelujah!

(Epilogue: I was a little confused about why God would open my heart again for worship ministry when I firmly believe I'm in the right job right now. I wondered why I dreamed of missions, teaching, and admissions counseling if I were to become passionate about worship ministry again. A friend of mine said something in passing one day that strengthened this whole testimony. I realized through my friend that God has not called me to an occupation that will show up on a tax form. God has really called me to an occupation that will bring God's truth to His people and vice versa. Jobs don't matter, and that's cool. I don't want to change jobs right now.)

Confession

I am not a good blogger. While I love the concept and often come up with ideas, I get distracted sometimes. Actually, I've come to find that I get distracted a lot of times. My reputation through high school and my first year or two of college was one of focused determination and discipline. Now that I've come to know myself better, I question that. I took a personality quiz last night for fun...okay, really it was because I was ready to prove that I'm not Melancholy/Choleric like people think. (Yes, I know proving myself right is choleric...read on.) Choleric was only my second strongest temperament. Sanguine was my strongest temperament by far. (I only wish that were as obvious in my "strengths" mix as my "weaknesses" mix.) :) So, I sat and read about sanguines, laughing the whole time. I may not be everything that Personality Plus says sanguines should be, but then again I've always hated being put in a box. :) Why does this matter? It doesn't, but at least I have a copout now for why I'm a sporadic blogger. I'll try to do better.

Yet Another Post Today

Yes, I know this is my third post today. It's been awhile. :) Anyway, I published this dream on a Daniel's blogspot, and I just want to share it with anyone who crosses paths with me here.

I was standing in a field by myself, arms stretched to the sky on which my attention was fixed. The sky was the kind of deep dark blue that you see in the summer when even the darkness itself isn't really black. In the sky were several stars, twinkling in time with the praise in my heart. I was overwhelmed by honor for the Most High God. I lowered my eyes to see the tall grass sweeping around my legs, which were covered in the white robe I was wearing. Before I looked back to the sky I noticed other people in the grassy field, each worshiper evenly spaced from the others. I looked back to the sky, content to be at home among other God-fearers. One of the stars caught my attention with a brighter glimmer than the rest. It seemed to be brighter with each passing moment. Was it really getting closer? Was it really a star? It didn't take me long to see that this star was Jesus Christ, the Son of God, descending to earth. His brightness was contained in Himself and did not light up the field. Nevertheless, He was bright. He, too, stood in the field in white robe, the wind brushing the grass against His legs. He was one of us. Then He moved toward the first person in the field. His gaze met the worshiper's gaze, and Jesus's arms opened wide. He approached the worshiper, who responded with a welcoming embrace. As the two locked together the worshiper became very bright as Jesus took the worshiper into Himself. The same thing happened to the next two worshipers. Hardly controlling my elation, I realized that Jesus had returned to bring us all to Heaven to dwell eternally with Him. He continued through the field, welcome each new sister and brother home. For a moment I felt distant, thinking, "I want to go, too. Take me!!" Without a word Jesus stopped and stared at me. His face was not beautiful, not remarkable, not ugly. Like the rest of Him, He was just one of us...except He was peace. One look from Him calmed my spirit as He said, "You're going, too." My eyes and arms shot skyward in exuberant worship. Then I felt it. He was approaching me this time. He looked right into my eyes, right into my soul, and I cried. He cried too, smiling slightly. I stretched out my arms to anticipate His embrace. It became brighter and brighter as He came closer and closer. Our bodies touched, and He wrapped His arms around me. I was taken in, and all I could see what brightness. Just peaceful brightness. I woke up feeling calm completion.

Feeling Good

I was sitting in a room on Saturday night among an ecclectic group of people that reflected the Mosaic taste of the host and hostess. In one conversation an anonymous (to you, not me) friend piped up, "You haven't blogged in awhile." That really made me feel good. I don't have many publishable thoughts, but to think that a friend checked up on what I had to say felt nice. I write a public thanks because the friend deserves it. I hold the friend in anonymity because the humility he's displayed since I've known him means he might not want to be placed on a pedastal by me...even in a semi-private blog.

Doing It My Way

I am relatively compassionate, particularly when it comes to social injustice. Issues of sexism and racism run prevalently around our world, as does injustice to the poor. Issues about the poor probably get me the most. I've always been the type of person who tried to do something to help the poor, whether that meant giving away close, donating money, lending out belongings, volunteering, you know. I become outraged when I hear about other countries being used for cheap labor (i.e. sweat shops). That's why I was intrigued by a recent idea in global economy. There are some economists/politicians reputed to stand behind a global wage system. The heart behind this would allow Taiwanese and Mexicans to make $15/hour in a factory just like Americans do. At first, this sounded really good. Then it hit me. What would happen to our world if this happened? Where would that money come from? Wouldn't inflation go through the roof? On the other hand, how awfully these people are treated! Why should we expect them to be paid less? Questions like these flooded my head when something else hit me. While some social issues surrounding the poor are very real concerns, some issues don't really reflect compassion as much as they reflect our Western affluence and ignorance. Most third-world countries are living in the agricultural age and uphold a standard of living that requires more food than money (hence the worldwide effort to supply food to Sri Lanka et al). What would they do with $15/hour in some of those countries? We sit comfortably in our homes here in the West, looking east and saying, "I'd never stand for such punitive wages as those poor helpless people earn. They need more money." Sure, we need to end mistreatment, but do we really have to make them like us? We think the main mistreatment is the low wage that we wouldn't like. We're interpreting someone else's worldview through our affluence and comfort, constantly trying to do the compassion thing our way. How compassionate is one culture whose compassion is based on its own standards of comfort? Next thing you know we'll be shipping computers and microwave popcorn to east Africa and south Asia for relief. It's what we'd want.

Love, part 2

This blog isn't another sappy "I love my wife" blog. (Let it be understood, however, that she is the best for me that I could ever imagine.) This blog has much more to do with other people. I have been overwhelmed with love for people today in inexplainable ways. I'm not talking about romantic love, obviously. I'm talking about a deeply abiding love for people that results in care and compassion. I'm talking about perfect love. Am I perfect? NO!!! (Since most of my readers know me well, then you know that by now.) I am growing into perfect love, a truth being made obvious to me today. Thank the Lord, since this is the first time I've had a glimpse of this in months. It feels good to allow the Lord to change my heart for loving people.

Another kind of deep person

There's another type of deep person who is very different than the deep people from the other day. There are occasionally those times when you see someone whose depth shines through their eyes, directly from their soul. This morning was one of those times. We worshiped the Lord together, all of us strongly sensing the Holy Spirit. While the pastors leading us in worship spoke and sang, something shone through their eyes that revealed that they deeply knew the truth of what they were saying. They were two deep people whose depth goes beyond anything any of us will know for now. There's something peaceful about people like that. I pray the Lord and I develop that depth of relationship.

Deep Thoughts

You know, I used to think about deep people. They always seemed to have more together than anyone else. Then I started being grouped in the deep category. I never felt I had it all together. I never felt I understood. In fact, many of my deep thoughts came (and still come) out of questions that have no answers, circular thought patterns. Maybe deep people aren't all they're cracked up to be. Maybe deep people are just confused people with enough self-control not to be labeled with some psychological or emotional disorder.

Love

Have you ever been in love? I have. And I am. I can remember wandering aimlessly in and out of "love" until I found real love. The funny thing is that I see it in places I never thought I would. My wife leaves a water bottle filled beside the microwave because I prefer room temperature water. She wakes up at 7:00 a.m. while she's still on vacation from school just to make sure I wake up on time for work. She still holds my hand if we're in public just to remind me she's still thinking about me. She really believes good things about me and helps me to believe them too. For my friends Brent and Amy who were just engaged recently (though not to each other), look out because love is going to slap you in the face in a wonderful way...when you least expect it. Pretty soon love will look at you across the dinner table after a long day and reassure you that the next 74 years of your life are still going to be good ones. If you're not married, though, take Solomon's advice: don't awaken love prematurely. Forcing love won't be real love at all. I can't imagine where I would be if my life hadn't changed four years ago. I wouldn't know what it feels like to come home every day to the treasure we all hope to find.