Sponges

Whomever you hang around with consistently, whatever you indulge your being into regularly, you will no doubt be shaped by their influence eventually. We have been built to be influenced- shaped, twisted, molded, constructed, inspired- as though we are sponges. And the thing about sponges is that they not only absorb, but they must extract. What we understand about sponges is that if they only absorb and never extract, they will get heavier and most certainly crust into a hard, stiff, moldy entity glued to the place where they have been left. On the other hand, it is impossible for a sponge to only extract without absorption, right? How can you extract something when there is nothing there to extract in the first place?

The sponge analogy is simple and obvious, I know, but yet the sponge holds a deep meaning as to why humans are the way they are. Think about this for a second. People tend to either do a lot of absorbing or a lot of extracting but rarely, a balance of both. The most effective people (in a positive sense) have disciplined themselves enough to be both absorbers and extractors. Either way, there is revelation in all of this.

Absorbers, at their core, find it very easy to be inspired. They tend to be vulnerable enough to allow themselves to be moved by things like art, conversations, experiences, emotions, and the list goes on. In our wretched nature, we absorbers absorb the most unhealthy things. Being that I'm an extreme absorber, I find it easy to be lazy- to immerse myself in pleasure (pleasure is not necessarily bad, btw) and to fill myself up with the worship of women, the coveting of people who are really good at what I want to be good at, and shopping for more and more stuff. Without even much thought, I will spend hours watching Family Guy episodes on the internet while playing video games into the wee hours of the night. This is most likely me at my worst. I get lethargic and yet I can never get enough.

That, my friends, is absorbers.

On the other hand, extractors tend to be the ones who habitually try to inspire others through fully engaging the world. More often than not, they are go-getters, effective communicators, and spontaneous and adaptable to any circumstance. Although they have the pure intention of helping shape the world and are a voice to important causes, the most extreme extractors can be a really loud voice with very little substance or theology behind the words. An example of this my desire to perform music but my refusal to spend hours practicing and refining my craft. Because I am a guy who loves improvisation, I pride myself on making music on the spot (which I truly love) but many times it is an excuse so I don't have to take the time to be disciplined away from the spotlight. 

I think the point to all of this is that we've got to be aware of all sides of the sponge in our lives. And not only is the awareness key to it all, but more for the reality that we need to be a blessing to others. Of course, there are so many more details involved in our lives that play a factor in our abilities to absorb or extract, but more often than not, improving on what you lack involves steps of faith into unfamiliar territories. You've got to trust that if you open yourself up to be inspired, you will indeed be inspired. And if you push yourself to be an influence, you will be given the ability to be an effective influence in present situations. 

Hopefully you can see that the intentions of this blog are not a "how to guide" but rather thoughts to reflect on and hopefully an invitation to change. Only you will find your way (ok, God is somewhere in there, too) and none of us can copy the ways of others. But sometimes we just need to begin by moving forward.

       

Questions Out of Conflict

As the shape of the church re-invents itself in my thoughts, more revelations disturb me enough to discern what aspects of the church should be persevered and which ones need to fade into oblivion. This is an ocean of conflict for those who are in the same place as I am. No longer are we swimming against the tide of a lost culture… we are swimming against the tide of a misguided church.

Now, before you go any further, I want you to understand that this monologue is at its core, commentary for the journey within me and maybe within you. These thoughts represent the thoughts of those who swim in the ocean of conflict. Understand that harsh revelations, if guided right, lead to beautiful solutions. Sometimes the soil just needs to be unearthed, tended to, kneaded, and prepared for new creations. Now, for the unearthing process…

The problem is that a majority of the churches today are still attempting to walk in the footprints of the past, rather than making footprints of their own. Many will refuse to let go of old ways- methods that are outdated and ineffective in our present time- in order to figure out new ways to share the enormity of complete love, that love that has been invented and transcended by the pursuing and very present God. See, many Christians- those who make up the church- have not yet stood in the vulnerable impact of the crashing tides, where the waves of God’s sovereignty collide with the waves of culture’s brokenness. I would say that a majority of Christian generations guess as to how God is moving in culture and in turn, repeat old patterns as to what best will bridge the character of God and the beautiful hunger of humanity. Funny enough, old patterns tell us that there must be a “bridge” to fill in the gap between God and culture, yet the ignorance of the church has misunderstood the truth that there is no gap in the first place. God is moving through culture and a bridge is just an interruption to the movement. Our job is to figure out how to participate in it.

So what does participating in God’s movement mean? What does it look like to be a humble usher (a.k.a. “servant”) of what the Spirit is doing in us and around us? I don’t have answers, for the answers come in the processing, encountering, and tiring of the journey ahead.

But what I do know is that we need to take an honest look at our motives through the lens of uncensored, unashamed, uncanny, unchristianized observation. We need to engage our culture in whatever way that looks like for each of us, finding ourselves naked and vulnerable in the chaos of searching hearts and broken lives. Somehow, we need to explore the questions before we give the solutions and boldly face the solutions while we ask more questions. The details are in the journey.

Risk Out of Conflict

I'm beginning to understand that the difference between religion and reality is risk. It all boils down to risk.

Right now, God is rescuing me from religion and wooing me into an honest reality and opportunity to risk everything. I thank Him for this, even though it is strange, sort of hurts, and reveals me publicly in embarrassing ways. Even as I type this, I'm a man bombarded with questions, doubts, frustrations, resentment, and wounds of my past and thus, all of it is somehow a beautiful indication that I'm no longer a man stuck in the mud of safety, predictability, and fear (what I call religion). Or at least my tires are gaining some sort of traction and I'm slowly but undoubtedly working my way out of the mud and back into the deep forest where I can explore life, interact with its creation and know the Spirit in it all.

I don't think many people in the church (the global church) realize that they are dying in a life that could be resurrected. I know this because I've been one... a paled-skin, lifeless, aching patient of spiritual cancer. I've lived under the attack of church expectations (which, by the way, is driven by fear). I've listened to the critics tell me how to be and how to think and what to desire- whether or not I can be barefoot on stage or use curse words to express my feelings. I've been frozen in the walls of what you "can't do" rather than roam freely in the possibilities of what I am meant to be.

And I am not just a victim; I'm a perpetrator, too. I have judged my brothers and my sisters and told them how they should live, rather than why they should live and not just live, but live abundantly. I've been an architect of Sunday morning church services that are stale, predictable, uninspiring, unmoving- all of this because I'm lazy when I feel worthless. I've ignored many of the conversations with people around me because I only live life within my own pleasure and time and not the pleasure and time of others. And I've held in my honest and raw thoughts so I won't "offend" anyone.

All of this to say, I'm tired of living this way because at its deepest foundation, there is no life in it at all. I can't fathom that God calls us to a safe journey where we escape from interacting with our deepest questions, doubts and fears- where we just patch everything up, like the church has repeatedly done for years. It is no wonder that the church body is looked at as an accessory to the world and not as an opportunity to find life, healing, imagination, inspiration, innovation and relevancy.

The conflict of my heart collides in the intersection of my thoughts. At one end I feel like I need to give up, move on, be pissed off at the church, and ultimately resent its faults and failures. At the other end, I simply hear the voice say to me, “Be part of the change.” This is hard for me, as I have continually attempted to escape from persevering through the ugly into the beautiful. I’m guilty of striving to find the easy ways out, so I don’t have to feel pain and rejection. But I guess that the joy is in the journey rather than a quick arrival.

I hope that we who are citizens of the church refuse to just exist. A dead squirrel on the side of the road can exist. And so can a dead church. Let’s be bothered in conflict. Let’s be so bothered that we are more than aware that we must make the choice to risk everything in order to be the hurricane of love in our wounded cities OR… stay quietly hidden on a hill, isolated from society, building upon routines and tradition in order to reassure our egos and safe, predictable lives.

Involved

I know that if given enough time to be by myself, I become everything that I don’t want to be. It’s really true and I think this can be said about every person living on this blue and green machine called planet earth.

I certainly don’t desire to be some sort of hypocritical judge of others, but I do it so easily when I separate myself from those around me. When I hibernate, avoiding relationships and any sort of social involvement, I automatically absorb this bitter being who plays the know-it-all card at every turn and calls out the actions of others given even a slight moment of opportunity. It’s heightened more when I pay attention to the news and gossip of the world because I don’t know those lives who I read about. I’ve never met Britney Spears, but I know that she’s a hopeless waste of a soul. Just an example.

Loneliness creates a monster. I’m not sure if you have ever seen the movie, The Aviator, but the main character played by Leonardo Dicaprio is a perfect example of this. The movie is about a real life billionare and innovator named Howard Hughes who back in the 20’s and 30’s made a namesake for himself by setting world air-speed records, owning and expanding Transworld Airlines, and producing some of Hollywood’s most legendary films including Scarface and The Outlaw. The man had it all.

Later in life, he became a recluse (contributed to mental illness), living away from all of society. I found this article in the most trusted source of information on the web. Wikipedia says,

"As an adult—at one time one of the most visible men in America—Hughes ultimately vanished from public view altogether, although the tabloids continued to follow rumors regarding his behavior and whereabouts. At various times, the media reported him to be terminally ill, mentally unstable, or possibly dead. Hughes eventually became a complete recluse, locking himself in darkened rooms in a medication-induced daze. Though he always kept a barber on call, Hughes only had his hair cut and nails trimmed about once a year. Several doctors were kept in the house on a substantial salary, but Hughes rarely saw them and usually refused to follow their advice."

If you watch The Aviator, you see Hughes literally deteriorate into a creature, barely human. We cry and we get frightened by the horrific depiction while we watch the film, but the reality is that it is an extreme example of what seclusion from the world will do to even ourselves. The thing that Hughes evolved into is the manifestation of who we become when we separate ourselves from those around us.

Unfortunately, many people become lonely and secluded because, among many reasons, they have had a bad experience or a series of bad experiences with others in their life and they have found safety in being alone. For others like myself, I become lonely and secluded because of a lack of confidence and a distrust in who I am and what I am capable of. This creates a conflict between protecting myself from intimacy with others but then having to live with the person I despise the most (myself). And thus, the circle of bitterness and depression goes round and round and eventually becomes a Howard Hughes.

A larger reality of this is that many of us do not have good boundaries and therefore continue to be trapped in a circle of dysfunction. I don’t want to dive into that issue right now, but I will recommend a book by two authors named John Townsend and Henry Cloud called Boundaries. It’s worth the read.

I guess that what I’m trying to say is that seclusion deteriorates the beautiful opportunities there are to experience in this life. Living in a bubble of boiling anger and bitterness is not worth it. You know it and I know it.

Intimacy hurts at times, but it spreads open our wings. Avoiding it secures the cocoon. We were built to be united into a messy conglomoration called community. Even God knew it when He saw that "it is not good for man to be alone."

You are loved and so love others.

Looking for Home

For 28 years now, I've been on a great search for home. I can't say I remember this search as I first pushed my way into the world. But I know that the first sense of home I ever felt was the cradle of my mother's arms. But mom's arms of today cannot be the home I am searching for now.

If you look closely at the world--at the lives orbiting in and around you--you will see an entire planet searching for home. Scan for a brief moment the cover of the magazines in the super market line. Vanity disguises itself as the home you are searching for. We want to be able to make a residence in our own skin, yet our own skin is no place like home. Yes, Dorothy was right: there's no place like home.

What is home? Have you ever bothered to think about it? Maybe not. If you are like me, you are caught up in the world-wind of trying to make every temporary thing home. Yet, the pursuit is always met with the craving of unsettledness. Your diving through clouds, hoping that one of them will catch you like a pillow of rest, but yet your still falling. You feed and feed and get more hungry and more sick until you have finally had enough. It is then that you realize that what you think you want is actually not the thing you really want at all.

Maybe home is simply not available to us right now. Maybe we have glimpses or feelings of home, but the place of fulfilled light is only a place of longing right now, not the destination. I have hope that our longing will be met with the beginning of complete wholeness when we finally arrive at a time yet to be.

Our "longing" is not bad or lustful; rather, it is a gift and a free one at that. Although I have been angry with God about the curse of the "longing," I've realized that the longing for my heavenly Dad (that, whom I refer to as "home") carries me to Him.

I don't have the "God in relationship with humans" thing all figured out, but I've come to understand that as I stay in a relationship (not a religion) with my Creator, the longing is loving in the natural sense and not irritating in the forced sense. We should not attempt to fulfill the longing by our human will, but rather be present with Him and allow the longing to sustain forward.

I know you've heard it before, but I want to say it again and again and again. God is longing for You because he LOVES you and he has placed in you a space to love Him. He enjoys you and likes you and he wants you to enjoy and like him, too. Above all, he wants to be your home. The longing he has placed in you is His way of inviting you to be with Him now, so he can welcome you home in the end.

Scotch Tape and Dams

Scotch Tape and Dams

In the cavernous space buried deep inside of us--that where the core of our being begins to blossom--is this craved aspiration to yield to greatness. It is there that we yearn to be known, appreciated, loved, and if we're lucky... awed and admired at while our restless heels tread the mire beneath each step we take. The desire to be great is not a choice per say. It is the deisal fuel meant for some larger-than-life purpose we know we were chosen for.
But the crystal clear river unto which our desire flows became polluted with styrofoam cups and greasy fast food leftovers of false affirmations we soaked up along the way...
"You're not good enough."
"Try harder."
"Be intimidated... that person is better than you are."
"You've failed once again, shmuck!"
I think it is around the time of middle school that the clean river really meets the trash. At that point, a kid begins to experience the expecations in relationship to performace.
Ahh, performance...
Spelling bees. Little league. Who can decorate the best easter egg. Beauty pagents. Popularity. Varsity team. Head cheerleader. Valdictorian. Who can do the most pull-ups, or in my case... a pull-up.
Somehow the identity--the fingerprint of your uniqueness--is lost in a sea of competition. No longer are you a fish among coral... you're now a minnow among minnows. Weaving in the same direction. Trying to keep up. Reflecting that silver flash among the waters as you march, rather, swim to the same beat of a drum; the drum of expectations and "not good enoughs."
Why the silly climb towards the top? The moutain's an illusion and the pollution to your spectacular river inside to the outside has you teased. There is no mountain. The climbing is simply an exhausting act of miming: your white gloved hands pretending you are trapped in a box.
Maybe there is a box, though. Maybe your drive to defeat the "not good enoughs" is a glass box where you nudge the walls and nothing happens. The nudge feels good for a moment and leaves you sore the next.
I was sitting in the veteranarians waiting room yesterday, waiting for my friend's dog to get the thermometer pulled out of his trap door so we could high tail it out there (there is nothing more rancid then the smell of an animal hospital. Missy, you entered the correct medical profession). As I sat on their navy blue benches in there watching different dogs and cats come in and out of the door (I was waiting for someone to bring in an emu), I opened one of those celebrity rumor magazines sprawled out next to my thigh. I flipped through the pages and found out important news that I must know...
Owen Wilson decided to dump Kate Hudson.
Tara Reid went under the knife and got monsterous jubilees.
And Brad and Angelina are rampedly trying to adopt all of Nigeria so they can fly them home to invade Hollywood.
Oh, and then there was the best dressed list of 2006, the no-no's of wearing turtlenecks during the winter season (I actually agree with that one but abide by it on the weekends), and why you should purchase some coffee thermos that seems to not only keep your fluids at an even level, but cleans your mud room, as well.
YOU NEED MORE. Don't you get it? You just don't have enough, ladies and gents. Your boobs need to be bigger (according to Jessica Simpson). And your love life needs to be more exciting and pleasurable, according to that gross old lady who is always holding some nasty sex toy when she's on t.v.
Bull shit (sorry for the language). It's an illusion, my dear. The devil is trying to convince you that you suck as you sit in the odor-ridden vet's office.
What if for one small instance, maybe even for a minute, you pondered the thought that you are perfect. To the self-depricators, you are probably now logging off of the internet by now. But I'm serious. Could you take one small moment away from the noise and consider the thought that nothing more needs to be done? The surgeon in your head no longer needs to add more silicon to your greatness. It's pointless. YOU'RE ALREADY GREAT. Don't shrug it off with self-pity. Don't push the truth to the side in an attempt to look humble.
You're tired. I may not even know you, but I know that you are tired. Your arms are shot from the constant pull to the peak to fulfill those expectations that were taped to your forehead as a child. It's scotch tape, for pete's sake! Rip it off and let yourself shine.
Do you not know by now that your river's natural function is to flow forward? Expectations to become greater than your unimaginable greatness already rooted inside has and is building dams from shore to shore. The build up of rushing water is your frustration because you were meant to flow.
The pollution, the trash? It takes a little time to clean all of it out. You must understand that simple concept. But the dams can be broken now. But not alone.
Don't tire yourself out in disassembling the rocks, sticks, tree branches, and consumed trash that haults your outburst of greatness. It's a bigger job than you think. You are not a carpenter and you cannot fix it. You can only participate.
But with who? That's for you to find out if you are willing to face that person who dwells within your roots.
In the meantime, rest for a while. For you will soon walk on water