redemption and misperception
Today my thoughts are simple and somber. Today I hurt for friends. As I hurt I can’t help but feel like something is broken. And I can’t help but admit that I have participated in the brokenness.
You see, for most of my life; (the years I’ve tried to dedicate to following Jesus), I have been persuaded and influenced by sermons, and interactions, and leader meetings and ministry philosophies. I have been told time and time again that “those on the ‘outside’ looking in are most in need of redemption.” First, let me affirm that there are not many things greater than witnessing someone experience God’s love for the first time, or after a difficult season where He seemed distant and estranged. So please hear me out before you wrongly assume that I don’t think redemption for those who have been distant from God is beautiful. I just have some really honest questions….
So, here goes…..as we (me included) have trucked along, as we (me included) have narrowed the focus to “reach more”, I can’t help but wonder if we have gained a misperception along the way. I can’t help but wonder if we (me included) have lost touch with our own need for continued and ongoing redemption. I can’t help but wonder if we (me included) leave things unredeemed in our own souls and instead live in pursuit of a “holy calling” to redeem others. Honestly, it’s just very often easier that way.
“Here let me help you be redeemed because then I don’t have to deal with my own need to become someone new, someone different, someone set apart.” What if the redemption of other people always includes the ongoing redemption of ourselves? What if it is IMPOSSIBLE to separate the two? What if as we ourselves participate in the process of being redeemed that it’s actually our process, and who it is we are becoming, and how we handle different situations and relationships that speaks louder than any alter call, sermon, or perfectly strategized event. It’s time for us (me included) to part ways with the misconception that redemption is only for those on the outside. There is much to be redeemed within us, within the Church.
i do not know the wind
This post is long overdue. It’s been something I’ve wanted to share for months.
In September I had the opportunity to travel to San Diego for the second gathering of our RHYTHMinTWENTY group. My first experience with RHYTHM was in October 2008 and it was literally indescribable. Part of me worried that our time together in San Diego could only do one thing; fall short. Fortunately, I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was a life giving, challenging, inspiring time filled with deep and authentic connection. There were moments I’d look around me, moments I’d take a second to pause and realize what was happening between the twenty of us. And without little doubt I knew I was experiencing a piece of Heaven on Earth.
We spent one morning listening to the words of one of our leaders, words about the Holy Spirit…..the wind. His words helped stir something in me, something I hadn’t felt in a long time…the Spirit living within me. His words helped me remember this mysterious beautiful truth….the Spirit is alive and the Spirit is within me.
But I was overwhelmed by how little I felt like I knew the Spirit. I felt guilty for all the times I had forgotten, all the times I had deliberately chosen to ignore the wind. I approached our time of solitude feeling inspired, yet every part of me seemed completely numb. I had no fitting words to tell God how sorry I was. I had no eloquent prayer to offer that would make up for lost time. I felt lost and hopeful in the same moment. I simply had my broken, humbled, and honest self. I put down my journal and with it the expectation that I would fill this time with beautifully flowing words. I thought to myself “stop trying so damn hard and just be.” And as tears flowed down my cheeks the wind began to pick up and I found myself admitting something I was terrified to admit to myself or anyone else. I began repeating over and over ”I DO NOT KNOW THE WIND. I DO NOT KNOW THE WIND.”
There! I had said it. My admission in that one simple phrase was saying so much more. One simple phrase and I was finally confessing…..God I don’t know your Spirit. God there are times I feel like an intruder, a fake, a hollow and empty representation of what it means to love you. God I feel broken. God our relationship feels broken and distant. God I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to play games anymore. I’m done trying to convince myself and those around me that I really know you, or that I really understand you. And in that moment of confession I felt free. I felt alive. I felt like God was near. I felt like the wind knew me, even though I did not know it. I felt hopeful despite the way my heart was broken to know God. And then I felt ready. Ready to pick up my pen. Ready to be honest. And here is what came out…
a better story
When my wife Kate and I got married we started asking the question, “What does it mean to live a better story?” It’s the type of question that can haunt you because you realize that there have been seasons, literally years of your life, when everything revolved around you. It’s rather sobering to realize how much more you could be doing. But not much changes, at least for me.
For as long as I can remember; this sobering realization about myself has been easier to brush under the rug than to deal with head on. I look around at all those in need and I feel like giving up before I start. What in the world could I do? So I stop dreaming, stop hoping, and stop doing. Quickly my eyes become adapt in the art of ignorance. Let’s be frank, it’s just a whole lot easier that way. I find myself paralyzed from even attempting to do something.
But then I have beautiful-gut-wrenching conversations, I read an inspiring book, I watch a film, I create something, and hope returns even if only for the briefest of moments. And in that moment I remember something true, something that’s always been true, that just because I cannot do everything does not mean I shouldn’t do the something I can do.
And so I press forward with an overwhelming desire to break the mold of self-indulgence. In the deepest place of my being I desire to break free, to give back, to live outside of myself, to just do something for God’s sake!
For Kate and I, living a better story involves art, people and investing in others. And so A Better Story Studios was formed. This is our attempt to do something. Our hope is that through artistic expression in our design and photography that we would connect with the stories of others. That what we exchange would go beyond providing a service and receiving a payment. Rather it would transcend into a mutual exchange of hope, inspiration and encouragement to continue writing a better story with our lives.
Thanks for listening. Check out our new project by clicking below.
community
Every post I’ve written to this point has had an image. I’m slowly learning that there are times when images limit our ability to dream, to think beyond what is right in front of us. Today I am dreaming about community. I see the places and faces of those I am in community with now, and I dream of the places I will one day venture; the stories that will merge with my own. I dream of a community that embodies this statement…
up too late.
So I’m back. I didn’t really go anywhere. Well that’s not entirely true. I’ve actually been a lot of places and had a lot of inspiring experiences since I last wrote on here. But I’m back from being lazy. I’m back from not honoring the discipline of writing consistently. I’m back!
And the site needed an update, an overhaul. Hopefully you took notice, because right now it’s 4 AM and I probably worked way too long on this, but once I get started on something I have to finish. It’s that whole first born, control freak, perfectionist crap.
I told my wife I would go shopping with her on Black Friday. So at this point I am about to lay down for a brief “nap” and then try to hold my tongue while I watch people punch each other in the face over toys, clothes, and tv’s. Should be exciting. At least it will make for some interesting Twitter updates.
I’ve got lots to share in the coming days, weeks, and months. I just wanted to say I’m back and show you a photo from one of my trips. This one happens to be from Mission Beach in San Diego, CA.
Peace.
fire department photos
This summer I was asked to shoot some photos for the Centennial Fire Department.
Here are a few from that day. (click on the photo to expand)
give the rock stars credit
There is an undeniable buzz in the air. Thousands upon thousands of people anticipate the arrival of the band. Camera flashes fill the arena accompanied by laughter, yelling, and even a tear or two from the overly zealous young fan.
The lead singer steps up to the microphone and the crowd noise reaches a level that would make your deaf grandma cringe. The first guitar riff fills the arena followed by the steady and catchy groove that the drummer lays down.
You gaze out at the crowd that surrounds you. Everyone has dropped their conversations, let go of their distractions and immersed themselves into a melody and some lyrics. They have, for the moment, become one. The crowd responds to the ebb and flow of this journey called song.
The song progresses through its highs and lows, choruses, and verses.
As the song comes to a close the bass player drops out, followed by the guitars, and then the drums. All that’s left are a few chords on a piano and a lead singer mouthing the lyrics “DON’T LET ME GO.” He’s mouthing the lyrics because he no longer needs to sing. Every voice has picked up where he left off. He simply plays the chords and listens.
What seemed like a song has now transformed into an anthem of sorts; meeting people in places they never anticipated or expected. The broken, bruised, and weary hearts of an entire crowd somehow find hope and healing in four simple words, “DON’T LET ME GO.” People extend their arms, close their eyes, and those who are hurting the most shed more than just a few tears.
You can feel the desperation in people’s voices. You can sense their longing to be part of something honest, raw, and engaging.
You have to give the rock stars credit: They have succeeded in doing something that the Church has so often failed to do. They have created an honest and open community that shows no shame in crying out “DON’T LET ME GO.”
Think about the vulnerability it takes to sing at the top of your lungs that you need something or someone to never let go of you. You are admitting to everyone around you that something is messed up, something hurts, something needs healing.
At the core of this anthem are the hearts of people looking for something more. They are looking for something to cling to in the midst of uncertainty, doubt, and a life that often times leaves them feeling lonely and misunderstood. They resonate with the honesty of this community. They resonate with the multitude of others who seem to be facing the same struggles and wounds. They find themselves in a sea of people who are attempting to find their way, yet don’t claim to have all the answers; and it feels like a safe place to be. A place where perhaps they could let their guard down. A place where they could share doubts, fears, failures, and victories. A place they would be O.K. crying out “DON’T LET ME GO.”
You have to give the rock stars credit. People found this community at a “FRAY” show and not at Church.
You have to give the rock stars credit. People found life, hope and some healing at a “FRAY” show and not at Church.
You have to give the rock stars credit. They can teach us a valuable lesson about the flaws in our Church community.
It’s time to change our Church Anthem from “everything is fine, I’m O.K., life is perfect” to something more honest, more truthful, and a lot more raw. Something along the lines of “God whatever you do, Church community whatever you do, DON’T YOU DARE LET ME GO, not for one second or I won’t survive.”
Maybe then we would fill stadiums.
Maybe then we would see transformation.
Maybe then we’d be able to point to the hope and healing of Jesus instead of a catchy melody.
Church, it’s time to change our anthem.
