Piñata tears

I saw the above video a few minutes ago on "America's Funniest Home Videos" and found it hilarious and striking.

Hilarious because - well, it's downright funny.

Striking because I see in that girl a sad reflection of me.

When something dear to me, however small or silly, is broken in front of my very eyes, it becomes so easy to wail inconsolably and incoherently. My heart throbs, my throat quivers and my senses are scattered.

But when will I learn to finally understand, truly, that all in this world is naught - that even when "precious" things are hacked to pieces, my true treasure remains intact?

And when will I realize that whenever these things are rent apart, blessings invariably fall from the pieces, each and every time? When will I finally come to grips with the trend of bigger losses bearing bigger rewards, and that Christ's "loss" exhibited this perfectly in yielding the greatest return known to man?

All other losses and, indeed, all other rewards, are pale trifles in comparison.

Foolish loves, tardy reactions, inaccurate valuations - these are the demons that continually plague my heart. I know this, yet I continue to weep over my broken piñatas over and over and over again.

we will earn new eyes...

Enjoy

I was sitting on a plane recently when the glorious cart of beverages was finally pulled into the aisle. It had been about six hours since my last meal (a long time for yours truly), so I was hungry, thirsty and tired. A nice, cold drink was just what the doctor in my mind ordered.

The stewardess handed me my two beverages (I was thirsty and if they're not going to give me snacks I figure they owe me as much liquid as I desire), but before she left me to quaff it all down, she said something I've heard many times before in this situation but found utterly strange for the first time in my life:

"Enjoy."

How could I not? Why does this lady deem it necessary to bid me enjoy something that I clearly will without her telling me? How could a tired, hungry, thirsty man stuffed in an uncomfortable environment fail to relish this experience?

And herein lies the throbbing ache: Despite the loudest, most convincing of exhortations, I am always failing to ENJOY...

...this...

...that...

...you.

I'm sorry.

"The biggest problem in our marriage is that she wants me around. And I can't even accept that? I don't think I can accept pure love." - Pete, from "Knocked Up"

"Why do you mean so much to me? Help me to find words to explain. Why do I mean so much to you, that you should command me to love you? And if I fail to love you, you are angry and threaten me with great sorrow, as if not to love you were not sorrow enough in itself. Have pity on me and help me, O Lord my God. Tell me why you mean so much to me." - Saint Augustine

When I was your age...

If I had a child today, these are some of the things I'd say after "When I was your age..."

...we used landline phones."

...we used landline phone modems to get onto the Internet."

...AOL was popular."

...we didn't have Google."

...we didn't use cell phones."

...we used pay phones."

...we listened to cassette tapes."

...we used paper maps."

When I was younger I'd scoff at older people who said anything that started with "When I was your age..." Yes, we've all heard about our elders who had to walk 14 miles, in the snow, without shoes, without a jacket, just to get to school. This type of storytelling is parodied all the time.

I kind of got it before but I really get it now. The reason for sharing these anecdotes is to exhort the younger listener to seriously, soberly, accurately value what they have now because though they have become easier to approach, the values of the actual things themselves have not changed.

And this is what I've learned this week about the enthralling book of Leviticus.

1:1 The Lord called Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting, saying, 2 “Speak to the people of Israel and say to them, When any one of you brings an offering to the Lord, you shall bring your offering of livestock from the herd or from the flock.

3 “If his offering is a burnt offering from the herd, he shall offer a male without blemish. He shall bring it to the entrance of the tent of meeting, that he may be accepted before the Lord. 4 He shall lay his hand on the head of the burnt offering, and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him. 5 Then he shall kill the bull before the Lord, and Aaron's sons the priests shall bring the blood and throw the blood against the sides of the altar that is at the entrance of the tent of meeting. 6 Then he shall flay the burnt offering and cut it into pieces, 7 and the sons of Aaron the priest shall put fire on the altar and arrange wood on the fire. 8 And Aaron's sons the priests shall arrange the pieces, the head, and the fat, on the wood that is on the fire on the altar; 9 but its entrails and its legs he shall wash with water. And the priest shall burn all of it on the altar, as a burnt offering, a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the Lord.

10 “If his gift for a burnt offering is from the flock, from the sheep or goats, he shall bring a male without blemish, 11 and he shall kill it on the north side of the altar before the Lord, and Aaron's sons the priests shall throw its blood against the sides of the altar. 12 And he shall cut it into pieces, with its head and its fat, and the priest shall arrange them on the wood that is on the fire on the altar, 13 but the entrails and the legs he shall wash with water. And the priest shall offer all of it and burn it on the altar; it is a burnt offering, a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the Lord.

14 “If his offering to the Lord is a burnt offering of birds, then he shall bring his offering of turtledoves or pigeons. 15 And the priest shall bring it to the altar and wring off its head and burn it on the altar. Its blood shall be drained out on the side of the altar. 16 He shall remove its crop with its contents and cast it beside the altar on the east side, in the place for ashes. 17 He shall tear it open by its wings, but shall not sever it completely. And the priest shall burn it on the altar, on the wood that is on the fire. It is a burnt offering, a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the Lord.

I probably sinned by sarcastically using the word "enthralling" to describe Leviticus because I barely meant it. But what makes Leviticus at least a tad bit interesting to me now is that I am beginning to understand that the 17 verses of the first chapter of this book translate (approximately) into, "When I was your age..."

In other words, this is something like God trying to convey to us, today, how He still values sin and its severity. This has not changed, though thanks to Christ's life, death and resurrection we are now freed from the need to physically deal with our sin in such hands-on, slimy, bloody fashion.

Our elders have a valid point: we've devalued things. The incredible advancements of technology and innovation have hurt us maybe as much as they've helped us. Communication, interaction, landscapes, entertainment, discovery and so much more have turned from being significant events to merely being casual, convenient accessories today. Their worth has waned because of the very things that make them more accessible.

God help us if we've allowed this to happen with our understanding and valuation of the foulness of our sin and, as a result, the beauty of our salvation. Both should enable us to deem the other more seriously.

"Lord Jesus Christ, I admit that I am weaker and more sinful than I ever before believed, but, through you, I am more loved and accepted than I ever dared hope. I thank you for paying my debt, bearing my punishment and offering forgiveness. I turn from my sin and receive you as Savior. Amen." - Tim Keller

Singing to a beloved turned away

I was privileged to have been invited to a party for a precious baby boy’s first birthday. It was absolutely wonderful to celebrate this event with such a beautiful family – to smile together after a year’s worth of love, dedication, time and energy poured into the life of this small child.

At one point, the father took out his guitar and began singing a song he wrote just for his son’s first birthday. It was wonderfully written and performed but the young child didn’t appreciate the precious gift – and who could blame him for turning his back on his father and playing with his toys instead? He is, after all, only a single year old.

I smiled as I watched this scene, partly because this is one of the very rare circumstances where such blatant disregard could be regarded warmly, partly because the song was so wonderful and partly because I couldn’t help but hear the echoes of something else.

A loving father doting on his oblivious beloved…

Not only has he already poured his all, his very life into this child of his, but the father continues to sing over him, crafting new melodies, new words of adoration, new songs each and every day – this in spite of the fact that this child fails to comprehend any of this.

His nascent ears are still too deaf to truly hear, his young eyes still too clouded to see, his budding heart still too numb to sense the songs of good love being sung for him – just for him.

The father’s love for the child is not fueled by, seeking or dependent on the son’s love, or even acknowledgment of him. It just is.

As the toddler matures he’ll understand and appreciate his father’s love more, and as he looks back will realize, amazingly, that this love was just as ardent yesterday as it is today, just as zealous now as it was then.

And the father continues…

"In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." - 1 John 4:10-11

"For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person — though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die — but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." - Romans 5:6-8

Bolt, Wikus, Saul and greatness

• Bolt only became great when he left the fake world where he was fake great.

• Wikus van der Merwe only acted greatly after he was forced to leave his normal life behind and embrace his otherness.

• Saul received the Spirit of God and "another heart" after "he turned his back to leave Samuel." (1 Samuel 10:9-10)

I mention these three examples because they all reveal something that seems to ring true everywhere, every time - that in order to start on the path to greatness, you are required to leave behind the familiar, to trade the comfortable for the unknown.

The key is that this exchange and transition only begins the path to higher ground - it never guarantees it.

However, once we've moved on into that better realm we must heed Saul's example in 1 Samuel 15.

(It's here that I must borrow from some things I typed nearly four years ago.)

This chapter is the story of God commanding Saul to destroy the Amalekites, and to "devote to destruction all that they have. Do not spare them, but kill both man and woman, child and infant, ox and sheep, camel and donkey." (1 Samuel 15:3) To keep a long story short, Saul obeys God's command - but not fully. He does kill the Amalekites, but in the process he spared the king, sheep, cattle and "all that was good." Saul's idea was to sacrifice the sheep and cattle to God at Gilgal.

God says that he "regretted" making Saul king because of his disobedience. Saul tried explaining his disobedience, but Samuel replies:

"Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices,

as in obeying the voice of the Lord?

Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice,

and to listen than the fat of rams.

For rebellion is as the sin of divination,

and presumption is as iniquity and idolatry.

Because you have rejected the word of the Lord,

he has also rejected you from being king."

- 1 Sam. 15:22-23

In the end, Samuel killed King Agag, mourned for Saul and never saw him again for the rest of his life.

(I didn't fully capture the essence of this chapter in this dinky summary, but please read it for yourself before reading on. It's really quite sad and moving.)

There are so many applications and insights in chapter 15, but the one that stands out most to me is this: Saul preserved "good things" that he thought could be better used to glorify God and, in the process, disobeyed and grieved God.

I think many times we do the same. The LORD commands us to utterly destroy or turn our backs on certain aspects of our lives - bad habits, friends, relationships, etc. But when we do so it's inevitable that we hold on to certain things that we think can be used rather than destroyed or neglected. Basically, like Saul, we think that we know better than God.

It is every Christian's struggle to fully obey the LORD, wholeheartedly, without any reserve or queries. We never, ever know better than He does, no matter how much of a waste His demand may seem to be.

How do we know this?

The Gospel, of course.

Did Christ really have to die? I mean, couldn't God have spared Him? Imagine all of the great things Jesus could have done on this earth if He had lived a full life span. Why waste such a precious commodity? Jesus should have exercised that free will of His and avoided the cross. He could have done so much more.

Good logic, good intentions, no? Just like Saul's logic and intentions.

Consider then, what would have been the outcome if good logic and good intentions prevailed over God's will on Calvary? I think the answer is fairly powerful - and haunting.

In the end, with much humility and reverence, we must lay our pride aside and confess and believe, wholeheartedly, that God is always right. In a world, in a "Christian" culture, that has become so liberal and unbiblical, perverted with excessive laxness and "grace," obedience is something that has lost its meaning and importance, but we must not fall into that trap. We must obey no matter how illogical the demands may seem at the time. Obedience is what God delights in. It is "better than sacrifice."

Is there something or someone that God is telling you to lay aside, to "utterly destroy?" If so, you have a very important choice ahead of you. You will be either more like Saul or more like Christ depending on the decision you make.

Saul's decision led to his dethroning.

Christ's decision led to his eternal enthroning at the right hand of God.

Saul found his path toward greatness when he turned his back to leave Samuel, but lost it "as Samuel turned to go away." (1 Samuel 15:27) From there on, as we know, Saul was stuck on a terrible downward spiral.

So, it seems, the first few miles of our path are lined with the bricks of denial and departure from what we know. It also seems that the rest of it is lined with the same - frequent denial and departure from what we thought was good, sensible and better - until the end is reached in an eternity filled with acceptance and arrival.

Earning death, receiving life

I just read Romans 6:23 during my lunch break and it blew a fuse in my mind:

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Wages = what one works and strives hard for

Free gift = what one does nothing to deserve yet receives anyway

Can you imagine if your paycheck or degree was replaced by a paper bag filled with fermented fecal matter? Yet this isn't even close to what the Bible says our situation was.

We used to be people who worked incredibly hard to earn death - not money, fame, comfort, peace or joy, which we thought we were working for. Now, we are counted as those who do (and should) not (have to) work at all, and our reward for that is eternal gift, at no cost to us. (The last two words there are infinitely important.)

This is our salvation, this is our gospel, this is our God.

The prodigal sprinkler, or the prodigal God

There has been a phenomenon that I have noticed many times this summer here in Evanston, Ill. Here is a picture of an example:

There are many front lawns and patches of grass in this town and virtually all of them are quite small. Yet, for whatever reason, the caretakers of these tiny squares of grass seem to love placing normal-sized sprinklers on them. As you can expect, this makes for funny scenes of humans waiting for an opening to quickly pass by the water that the sprinklers inevitably spray onto walkways. For many, it's a nuisance; for some, it's an occasion for a patient smile.

Does the grass get watered? Yes. Would smaller sprinklers do this too, without watering surrounding walkways and spraying water on passersby? Yes.

This reminded me of God and his people.

It seems to me that I oftentimes find myself believing that God's fount of salvation and redemption in my life is only meant for me, for my improvement, healing and help. But what I fail to realize, in simple terms, is that the outflows of this fount, of its Source, are much larger than I care to perceive.

It also seems to me that this fount is meant just as much for the passersby in my life as for me. For many in this fallen world it will be a cause for curious pity that I should have had such a wasteful sprinkler installed on my lawn, in what they will think to be ignorance and misunderstanding. For others, it will be a plain nuisance. But I trust that for a few it will be cause, at the very least, to pause and smile, and at the very most, to inquire about how to install a sprinkler with a similarly wasteful range and spring of their own.

Concrete and pavement are watered by the sprinkler's wasteful flow,
In hopes that through the cracks, hidden seeds into beautiful flowers will grow.

“Joseph is a fruitful bough,
a fruitful bough by a spring;
his branches run over the wall."
- Genesis 49:22 (ESV)

I'm alive

I am still alive - some days, in new ways.

I still want to blog.

Forgive me for my slothfulness.

Sebastian's Voodoo

Happy Mother's Day

"I regard no man as poor who has a godly mother." - Abraham Lincoln

My life gets in the way of my Life

"For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:38-39 (ESV, emphasis added)

God,

About two weeks ago, I joined some members of my small group to worship with a ministry that serves homeless people in Chicago.

I walked into the room during the time of singing praise songs and was first struck by how stuffy it was; then, with envy, at how freely the congregation was singing and celebrating.

One of the songs, the title of which I do not remember, had a bridge that went like this:

I love you more than life

My lips were poised and ready to sing along, but my tongue was not - it could not. As everyone repeated that line I was standing in the back with my throat locked, tears welling up in my eyes and streaming down my face because I could not honestly sing those simple words.

If I were to convey to you, my Lord, every emotion and thought that rushed through me, I would not sleep tonight. Yet you know what I felt during those few minutes: disappointment, rage, confusion, self-hatred...and so much more.

My life - which has all the luster of a rusted nail - was keeping me from singing, earnestly, that I love you more than life? Father, how can this be?

Does the pool keep me from the beach? Does the mp3 keep me from the concert? Does the IM box keep me from the friend?

Then why, Father, does my broken-down, scarred, charred, hideous life keep me from loving you more than it? Why, Lord, am I so enthralled with this ghastly whore when my peerless beloved stands before me?

Even as you repair and mend this fractured life and bring it to full beauty, give the eyes of my heart true sight that I might see, more and more, how undesirable it will always be compared to you. As you bridge the gap between you and me, may the gap between my love for you and my love for this life widen - eternally, infinitely.

Loosen my tongue, imbue my heart with truth, that I might one day sing those simple words, truly.

Yet, tonight, I rest in this: that you have spoken to this matter already, speaking through your servant to tell me that no one and nothing, not even my life, will ever separate me from your love.

My throat is locking and tears are welling up again.

Thank you.

"For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:38-39 (ESV, emphasis added)

The Grand Demythologizer: The Gospel and Idolatry

Please watch this.

I am a failure

It took me seven months but I finally made my first trip to the gym yesterday. I got to run, lift free weights (chest) and chisel my abs. It was glorious.

One of the reasons why I enjoy working out so much is the chance it gives me to stare at myself in the mirrors.

No, not in that vain kind of way. (If I had more impressive muscles, maybe it would in that vain kind of way.)

In between sets I like sitting down and staring into my reflected self's eyes in the mirror in front of me. I just stare into my own eyes and ponder me - something I never do outside of the weight room.

When I do this, I am almost always led to thoughts of disappointment with myself. Yes, partly because of how little weight I am lifting compared to the centaur next to me, but mostly because of thoughts that are quite similar to this one haunting question:

After 27 years, this is all you've become?

Yesterday, just as I began this process, a song began playing. Its first few lines go like this:

And it's all right, it's all right
And it's all right, it's all right
Everybody is a failure in this light

I couldn't help but to grin.

glory (n.)

I was walking home yesterday and began to pray through the Lord's Prayer. A while ago I heard someone say that the Lord's Prayer touches upon all the essential aspects of prayer. So, sometimes when words to say to my Father do not come easily, I pray through the prayer that Jesus taught us. In other words, I pray each line, pause, and pray it in my own personal, current words, in a way that means something to me where I am right now.

If you've never try this, I think you should. You'll be surprised at how long you can pray for, and how many hidden things will surface in your words.

Anyway, I eventually came to the last line:

"For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen."

Then I thought: what does glory really mean?

So, I looked it up in Webster's New World College Dictionary, Fourth Edition:

1.

a) great honor and admiration won by doing something important or valuable; fame; renown

b) anything bringing this

2. worshipful adoration or praise
3. the condition of highest achievement, splendor, prosperity, etc. [Greece in her glory]
4. radiant beauty or splendor; magnificence
5. heaven or the bliss of heaven
6.

a) a halo or its representation in art

b) any circle of light

I hope this blesses you in some way.

"Prayer" by C.S. Lewis

Master, they say that when I seem
To be in speech with you,
Since you make no replies, it's all a dream
--One talker aping two.

They are half right, but not as they
Imagine; rather, I
Seek in myself the things I meant to say,
And lo! The wells are dry.

Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The Listener's role, and through
My dead lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew.

And thus you neither need reply
Nor can; thus, while we seem
Two talking, thou are One forever, and I
No dreamer, but thy dream.

Offensive silence

"Please hold."
























OK, I'm back.

That is an illustration of what I experienced during my time back at home. Let me explain.

During my first day at home I got a call on my home land line phone, but the caller ID showed that it was 'Out of area' and from my experience, nine times out of 10 a caller that is 'Out of area' is a telemarketer of some sort, so I did not pick up.

The caller left a message, and sure enough it was a machine caller that left this simple message: "Please hold."

When I heard the message, I literally said out loud - "Wow, how kind," before joyfully deleting the message.

I've received these types of calls before, and I'm sure many of you have as well. You pick up the phone, say "Hello?" and a machine tells you to "Please hold." Usually after that a telemarketer picks up and tries to sell you something.

Well, I don't know about you, but my first reaction when I hear a machine tell me to "Please hold," without so much as a greeting, I'm a bit offended. I find it impersonal and condescending - a killer combo.

This got me thinking - God does this too.

It's my understanding that he does this on multiple levels. On a large scale, for believers he has literally "called" us, and, thanks to our irresistible Father, we picked up. When we do, we may or may not have received an immediate communication of his desired direction for our lives. Regardless, more times than not, after he has called us, both in terms of awakening us to his grace and salvation, and in terms of our long-term life path, there is this unsettling pause, an almost frightening, and oftentimes frustrating silence about the details.

This also happens when a burden is placed squarely on our hearts. We're left with a burning desire to act, but it often takes many days, weeks, months or years for it to gain traction, for our Lord to shine his light on the good path that we should shoulder this, his burden, on.

The sad thing is, it seems to me that I too often get discouraged during these times of silence, "undirection" and holding. I eagerly respond with a "Hello?" only to hear a voice say "Please hold." And when I do, I allow myself to lose grip on...everything.

But the reason I lose my grip and sometimes end up hanging up is the fact that I forget two things: who the caller is and the fact that he has even called me at all!

For those of us who feel that we have been put on hold by God, especially after a call or burden that we fervently embraced, it's my prayer that we'll ponder these two facts, and that we'll read through the Bible to see the good company we are in (David, anyone?).

On a grander scale, and in view of the coming weekend of such importance for us, Jesus' 33 years on earth was something that many people embraced. But after his death, all of his ardent followers were, in a very real sense, put on hold for three excruciating days - three days of horrible silence.

"Please hold."

But after those three days, the silence was beautifully ended. (I would imagine that many fell away during those 72 hours... I would also imagine that many tearfully returned to God, with quivering hearts, lips and affections...joining the likes of Peter.)

May we view our holds in light of those three days and the ending of it that we are so familiar and grateful for. Surely, if God ended that terrible hold, he will end ours as well - sometimes as a smooth continuation of what was expected, and sometimes as a jarring shift in gears that takes us to beauties unforeseen.

He will return again.

(I apologize for the wordiness and convoluted thoughts here. I put these thoughts on "hold" in order to allow them to ferment a bit more in me, but I was so overwhelmed by their wine that I think it made it difficult to tame in this post. If you've read this, you're more patient than I.)

"A wonderful thing about God’s silence is that His stillness is contagious— it gets into you, causing you to become perfectly confident so that you can honestly say, "I know that God has heard me." His silence is the very proof that He has. As long as you have the idea that God will always bless you in answer to prayer, He will do it, but He will never give you the grace of His silence. If Jesus Christ is bringing you into the understanding that prayer is for the glorifying of His Father, then He will give you the first sign of His intimacy— silence." - Oswald Chambers

There's no "u" in "dream"

I am Dr. Manhattan

I saw "Watchmen" a couple weeks ago and thought it was OK. The film was entertaining, I liked a couple of the themes and one of the characters was fascinating to me, but as a whole it was too long and quite mediocre.

The character that intrigued me the most was Dr. Manhattan. Yes, the blue guy with the Adonic body, measured speech and the sometimes-visible blue member. For me, Dr. Manhattan posed the most interesting hero in the film because he presented such a unique quandary.

Though he was the only one of the Watchmen to possess true superpowers and absolute clarity of thought and purpose, these very assets compelled him to feel distant from the planet, from the people he was equipped to save. In other words, his superpowers, the attributes that enabled him to potentially be the world's savior, were the very things that forged a horrible apathy in him, thus rendering him virtually worthless to the ones that needed his saving.

This was an incredibly engaging concept for me, and was even more so because it reminded me of some Christians - namely, me.

I will resist the temptation to step up on a soapbox and speak in generalities, so I'll just keep this shameful spotlight on me.

I'll use an experience I had tonight as a frame for my point. (This is long, and it is partly a confession, so if you don't have time or don't have the willingness to forgive and pray for me, I suggest you move on.)

I was sitting on the 4 train, heading downtown in New York tonight when I heard the sound of jingling change in a container. I was listening to music, but the jingling was loud enough to catch my attention. Tonight was one of those terrible times when I was not "feeling" generous and when my skeptical side took too much control of me. In order to avoid eye contact with the beggar I assumed was walking down the middle of the car, I just stared down at the feet of the person across from me.

After a few seconds, I saw a white bucket emerge into my view. It was filled with coins and bills, and it was on the ground, held by a gloved hand. This was different.

I kept my eyes fixed on the shoes across from me.

Suddenly, the bucket, which was being shaken from side to side, lurched into the center of my sight, and I finally saw him: a man with both his legs amputated, using his hands to drag himself from car to car, shaking his bucket to get the attention of passengers.

Staring downwards was a bad choice.

Many people responded to this man's request for help - more than usual for "normal" beggars with two legs. I saw four, maybe five people in my view alone that tossed bills into his bucket - no coins. The men to my right and left both gave him bills. I gave him nothing.

I sat there, frozen - not by fear, not by mistrust, but by my own poverty.

Many thoughts and emotions raced through me. I won't prolong this post with all the details, but they centered around the fact that this man was a mirror of my own blackened, frozen heart.

Each thought flickered in my mind's eye - maybe the loss of his legs was due to his own irresponsibility...maybe his motivations are no different than those of the mendicant who begs for drug or alcohol money...maybe he's abusing his physical condition for his own selfish gain...

Those odious thoughts, and so many more, hacked away at me with terrible strength, and by the time I had "come to" he had already passed me by. I sat there, still staring at those shoes, and wanted to rend myself to pieces.

That man's miserable condition had dug up the true quality of my heart and proven that I am even more impoverished, more pitiable than he.

I am Dr. Manhattan.

It is my understanding that the gospel is "the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes" (Romans 1:16, ESV). This means, of course, that it is the superpower of superpowers, the awesome nuke of shalom that so many seem to need and seek. And I have tasted this grace - though I sometimes forget, yes, I have tasted it and know its power, goodness and authenticity.

Yet, many times when it comes to these actual circumstances of need - whether it be a homeless man in front of my very eyes, or sorrowful news on a screen - I am often frozen, to the point of impotence, by my thoughts, by my salvation.

Though I am still a child, I am well-versed in "good" words and deliberations that justify inaction - AND I HATE THIS.

Nowhere in that book of life am I told to first thoroughly think circumstances through, see all the angles, then if it seems proper, act.

Then where did this inclination come from?

I can only presume that somehow, someway, the enemy has managed to enter the control room of my mind and afflict it with perversions so deep, so numbing, so anesthetizing that I become nothing but a heartless possessor of a remedy - the worst kind.

And now as I finish this belabored post, my throat is tense, my vision blurred and my body quaking with rage and self-hatred.

I am sick of being paralyzed by the very thing that must drive me to prompt and sharp action. I am sick of allowing myself to be driven away, in thought, heart and spirit, from the very ones that I should be drawing even nearer to because I am caught up in my own security.

So, I ask you, dear reader, and God himself to forgive me tonight. I also ask that he would shatter me, so that I would be an infant in evil, but in my thinking, mature (1 Corinthians 14:20).

I am sick of being Dr. Manhattan.

Fwd

During the past six months I've received a lot of forwarded mail. This is, of course, mail that was addressed to my home in New Jersey, but forwarded to my apartment in Evanston, IL. On every piece of forwarded mail, there is a yellow sticker that indicates my new address.

I think many of the blessings that we receive in our lives are like forwarded mail.

As we should know, our home is not here - it is heaven. Earth is only our temporary address.

And, as the Bible says, "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above..." (James 1:17, ESV)

So, I think it should be the joyful duty of every Christian to make sure to look for the "forwarding label" on every parcel received from home, so that every blessing will not cause us to grow more content with our place here, but remind us that our home is above.

Megan Joy Corkrey

My new squeeze:

Heart ascending

A song that played as I was walking home really made my day.
It revived me,
Made me felt present, alive, sentient again - just for a couple minutes.
And, as swiftly as the wind, which seemed to merrily whisper a secret into me,

It left.

Your move, chief

I was riding the Purple Line express back home today and realized that I really enjoy getting those quick peeks into the buildings that the train passes in the downtown area.

I like catching glimpses of people running on treadmills, boxing heavy bags, studying for exams, working in their cubicles... I don't know why really. I just like it.

Then I realized that my knowledge of these people was limited to those fleeting seconds that I was allowed to see them. The woman on the treadmill is...a runner. The guy boxing the heavy bag is...a boxer. The people studying in the Kaplan room are...students. The people working in cubicles are...office drones.

But would I ever dare to claim that I knew these people? Absolutely not!

Then why do I do this with God?

Why do I presume to know God, sufficiently, after just...a good sermon on a Sunday, a good time spent reading the Bible and praying, a good retreat or revival...after such short, meager portions?

Our infinite God can't be so easily and quickly known - but our comfort is that he knows us. This is why, I think, Paul paused to clarify his meaning in Galatians 4:9, when he said, "But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles?" (NIV, emphasis added)

He knows us - not in snapshots, but in an unflinching fullness. He sees our best, worst and most mundane moments and still, he loves us.

How can I be so content with such brief glimpses of this God?

In closing, I would like to share this clip (my favorite) from "Good Will Hunting," which, I think, highlights my point. It includes some coarse language, but we're all adults here.

I heart Brooke Fraser

Need I say more?

But I shall.

I had a long day. I won't complain about it, but it was one of the tougher ones for a wuss like me. The story I was working on felt a bit forced, not many people wanted to be interviewed and my throat was bothersome (though it made my voice sound really cool - or so methinks).

As I was getting ready to exit the train at Main Street, my phone's music player (on shuffle) began playing "Shadowfeet" by Brooke Fraser and I couldn't help but smile.

Just as I took my first steps onto the platform, Ms. Fraser sang this beauty of a chorus:

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you

I've always loved this song, but it had a new fragrance tonight.

I'm tempted to unload all of my run-on thoughts here, but I'll keep this short.

In a world where so many foundations are crumbling, I take great comfort to see that my sanity is still maintained (for the most part).

This is why, in retrospect, I count all my foundation-shaking sorrows as blessings, because at the very least they withdrew whatever faulty planks I was standing on and forced me to see that my foundation was poor.

I do not claim to have ever exited the better end of a struggle reassured of my enduring stance on Christ's foundation. In fact, I confess to you, honestly, that each and every one of my heart-rending hardships has shown me that my feet are ever wandering to other foundations.

Though I can't say for certain whether this will change during this lifetime, I take great comfort in imagining the day when after all the world has fallen away, "out from under me," and I will, for the first time, find that I am standing on him - in him.

The goosebumps I feel now for that thought's sake won't even compare...

"Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do what I tell you? Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great." - Luke 6:46-49

'Til I only dwell in thee

One thing I love about seeing the ground covered by inches of snow is knowing that the green grass hidden underneath still lives and will be revealed again.

I am yearning for spring.

Blagojevich's silence

Well, it's finally over: Rod Blagojevich is now a plain old citizen.

If you want to see the full video of his closing argument, you can watch it here. (Be warned: he talks for about 46 minutes.)

The part I want to focus on is the last minute. Watch it if you can.

If you're too lazy to, I'll spoil it for you and reveal what happens: silence.

It occurred to me that sometimes the best way to appreciate what I have is to see what happens to those who do not.

There are so many people who spend their entire lives defending themselves and in the end it will mean absolutely nothing. All of their resistance to acknowledge the truth, their refusal to admit to their standing with it, will be met with a deafening silence.

When I bear down on the thought of being met with infinite silence at the end of my life, I realize how that is just a scratch on the unfathomed surface of what hell really is.

I am grateful to be one who has someone to defend me, in my stead - whose testimony and pleas demand a ruling in my favor and secure an eventual greeting that will put all the applause that President Barack Obama has ever heard to shame.

Now my struggle is to go beyond this whisper of heaven and to genuinely desire this privilege to be extended to many more.

I found it again

I'll be honest.

I rarely read posts that are composed of just lyrics to some song I've never heard of. So, I understand if you don't read this.

If you do, know that this song resonates with something in me these days, for reasons I'm not sure of. All apologies for not writing much lately. I'll try to update this thing more often.




Watashi Wa - "Something to Say"

today, the things familiar to me are gone
and i'm here in some strange place
with nothing to say
and all of my life
i've had someplace to go
some purpose to serve
and something to say

if i sing at the top of my lungs
it won't say a thing if i haven't loved
the things i realize here
the plans that i make they fail miserably
i feel alone and i feel empty
but i feel alive with something to say
if i sing at the top of my lungs
it won't say a thing

i found it again
so i'll sing it loud
the plan was all that i knew
and all i could say
i feel alive and i feel alone
to sing at the top of my lungs

I need you right now

David Crowder.

If you're somehow still unaware, here is his Xanga.

I am Legend, or "Why-why-why won't the world revolve around me?"

You can bow and pretend
That you don't-don't know you're a legend
- "America's Suitehearts" by Fall Out Boy

I saw "The Tale of Despereaux" last week with my mom. While the visuals were splendid, the story was flimsy.

A theme that runs through the movie is how mice are afraid of exhibiting the virtues of bravery and courage, and instead hold dear the display of cowardice and timidity. Frankly, it reminded me of Christians. Many of us are almost too good at humility, meekness and patience, and we unknowingly denounce brazen, naked moxie because it reeks of "pride" and everything else unsavory to our spiritual tongues.

Well, it's time to wake up. I could be wrong here, but I don't think there is a single significant Bible character who was just humble, meek and patient. There is always another side filled with unbridled passion, whether for better or worse.

It seems that God cherishes those children of his who exhibit this duality, even if they do fall too often on the side of error.

As for me, in 2009 I hope to be a bit more like Despereaux - except, at least three times bigger.

I want to live a life that angels chatter about, with envy.


Fall Out Boy - America's Suitehearts (Acoustic)