Santiago's

This morning started as many do when Alison and I go adventuring. 

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, what do you want to do?"

Back and forth, back and forth-if you are picturing the vultures in The Jungle Book you have a pretty fair image.

We hippity-hop to Franklin (my car-I believe I may be too attached, but I will deal with that later). Today, my turn to drive. I jump on 6th and begin venturing East. As Franklin is cruising, I pick out a beginning end point. Santiago's! Brilliant idea, if I do say so myself, what goes better with an adventure than a tasty breakfast burrito. We arrive, and much to my dismay-the breakfast burritos are ALL GONE! Though discouraged, we find a way to alleviate our downtrodden spirits. Well, maybe I find a way to brighten my day and Alison just joined in for the fun. Out comes the camera.

Walk a mile in some one else's shoes. Life will look a lot different in a few miles. Even in a few steps.

The eyes are the window into the soul. Often holding the answer: "where is my joy to be found."

 Share your story so others may come and walk in your shoes. How else can we navigate the dark waters of this world?

At this point, Franklin beckons and we are off again. Further down 6th and towards Speer. The next location comes to mind. I have driven by this park at least 15 times and am always curious as to its purpose. It is a park dedicated to The Hungarian Uprising. 

 The whole creation waits breathless with anticipation for the revelation of God’s sons and daughters.

Romans 8.19

Memorial's-places where in our lives the experience only lasts for a breath. Yet, those waiting to be remembered, lived out their final breath.

 I think the lion may win this staring contest.

There's a storm a brewin'

And so concluded the adventure.

+Romans 8.18-39

Listen to Your Heart

Tick Tock Tick Tock

Round and round the clock goes in a perpetual rhythm that doesn't slow or alter. Time is a rather fickle beast.

This morning I woke up with 5 hours. 5 hours until my life took a turn towards the unknown.

Here is a list of quality questions I have been asked by those I hold most dear in the last 12 hours.

"How are you today?"

"Have you talked to the people you are suppose to?"

"Where do you believe that you would flourish?"
"What does your heart want?"
"Are you afraid?"

Answers:

-I am...

-Working on it

-I will flourish in either, it just depends on what I want to flourish in

-My heart wants to hide in a corner and cry

-I am not only afraid, I am terrified

Here is a list of questions my brain has been asking me since about day 1 of this adventure.

"Where is Pennsylvania?"
"How do you even spell Pennsylvania?"
"Can I do this?"
"Am I good enough?"
"What do I want?"
"Could I actually get into the program?"
"Can I endure more soccer?"
"Is that what I want my masters to be in?"
"Will I be forgotten?"
"Will I lose God or will I find more of Him?"

Do not worry, I figured out where Pennsylvania is and I only get the red squiggly under it  occasionally. I don't know if I can do this. I am quite uncertain if I am good enough. I want to share life with people that I really care about, in the present and in the future. I could really come to love those out in Pennsylvania (actually, I know I would) but I really love the people I have here. I love Denver. I love Colorado. I love not having soccer.  I know I won't be forgotten. I know God is guiding my steps. I know that the answer to this is yes or yes.

As 5 hours became 4, and 4 became 3 I was stuck. Sitting in Franklin Andi says, "why don't you draw something?" (Why don't you function in the way that you function best? Why don't you function as poetry? I am inserting my own understanding of her question) I am not sure why I didn't think about it sooner. I am thankful for Andi. I sat at the kitchen table, with a canvas and all the tools I needed, save one...

I love my dad. I am the spitting image of him. Hold up a mirror to him and you would see me. I am rather unsure of why I waited until this juncture to talk to him, but I do believe that it came to me here and now for a reason. What we discussed brought this image to mind. Two circles: well I think circles-though they are a bit more abstract. In one circle's center is a calm, is the certain. It is soccer and school surrounded by the complete unknown of Pennsylvania. The other circle doesn't have a center. It really isn't even a circle. This is the image I needed to begin understanding what my heart wanted to say.

So after the phone call to my Dad, insert about 2 hours and a painting later and I have my answer.
The beautiful thing about art is that it speaks the words that we don't yet understand.

The painting began to take form. What began as the uncertain center of 'no' flipped in an instant to the center of a Pennsylvania 'yes'. When it hit my eyes I knew. As backwards as this sounds-Pennsylvania is safe. Soccer is safe. School is safe. I am tired of playing it safe. I am ready to step outside the rules of this world that so many speak of. Maybe the rules of this world are not the rules with which the Kingdom will be found. Maybe I am a fool. I pray God can use a fool. Adventure is out there and I am ready to find it.

"As you look at the day before you, you see a twisted, complicated path, with branches going off in all directions. You wonder how you can possibly find your way through that maze. Then you remember the One who is with you always, holding you by your right hand. You recall My promise to guide you with My counsel, and you begin to relax. As you look again at the path ahead, you notice that a peaceful fog has settled over it, obscuring your view. You can see only a few steps in front of you, so you turn your attention more fully to Me and begin to enjoy My Presence. The fog is a protection for you, calling you back into the present moment. Although I inhabit all of space and time, you can communicate with Me only here and now. Someday the fog will no longer be necessary, for you will have learned to keep your focus on Me and on the path just ahead of you." Jesus Calling, November 16th.



+1 Corinthians 13.12+Proverbs 3.5-6+Jeremiah 29.11

B.B.T.

A train barreling forward with great speed, beware the logs thrown into the fire, pay heed.

Fire is all consuming, shadows seem to be looming.

Picture a Western movie. Now picture said movie without a steam engine. Doesn't happen. There will always be a scene with a Big Black Train.

I know I can see it. Time and again. I can hear the whistle blowing and the man shouting "ALL ABOARD".

Climb on up into the traveling cars and get ready for the ride of your life.

Now, I'm not an engineer. I don't even claim to understand basic science concepts, but steam engines seem to be 'fairly' sensical. 

You've got a car right behind the engine filled with logs. These logs are fed into a fire within the engine that somehow produces movement. This is produced by water and steam and fire, but again, science and I, not friends-but the fact remains that the fire moves and powers an entire train. It moves thousands of pounds of metal(numbers and math-abstract and unattainable so that might be unrealistic), but the truth remains that a small fire produces GREAT MOVEMENT. A small fire within the heart of the engine does work. In biblical terms, the rudder directs a ship, a bit controls a horse. Our soul seems to be a steam engine powered by a fire that we feed.

Great news about a train-that movement is kept on track by a set of rails. It cannot diverge.

Now-think about the human life. We feed a fire within our soul, and we don't have tracks. 

I picture a group of 12 year old boys and some how they got their hands on a pile of fire crackers. They attach them to a stick and plant it into the ground, light the wick and step back. Well, these fire crackers tip and point in every direction but up. The spark hits the chamber and off they go in every which direction. Mass chaos before your eyes.  

So when we light our fire of a soul, it's more like lighting a fire cracker on a stick-letting go-and praying it stays upright. Accompany that with the train idea and we have quite the possibility for movement. A train-like fire cracker movement. 

Feed your fire with gasoline-the carnage and damage is astounding.

Feed your fire with logs-we still seem to manage large amounts of damage.

Douse the fire-life isn't worth living.

The conundrum-life. I like the word conundrum, but hadn't known the definition till I looked it up: "a confusing and difficult problem or question."So again, I say the conundrum-LIFE.

+Romans 7.7-25

PT Cruisers

Two nights ago I walked out of my house angry. About to get into my car and drive-to where I don't know. Why, because I felt like yelling at the top of my lungs. God had a different idea for the night in mind.

As I slammed the front door closed a car drove up and it was Andi. I really wanted to ignore her, to ignore the white PT Cruiser that was a message from God, but I felt a knowledge that I shouldn't get into my car. She rolled down her window and held my hand as I lost control of my tears. They sprang forth with an epic determination to fall freely. We stood there, for a while. The night air, cold-the outstretched hand, warmth. I wanted to walk away but was so afraid to let go, so I didn't. I got into her car and we drove. False, she drove, I cried.

I get this image from my soul. I am in the midst of a blizzard in a forest. I wander into a clearing and see a cabin. I walk up to it and find a window. I have to stand on my tippy-toes, but I look inside and see a fire with a rocking chair and blanket. I can touch the window and feel the warmth but I cannot find the door. Please, have no fear, I have done lap after lap after lap. At this point in my life I feel like I have walked away from the cabin and completely lost sight of it. I am in a thick dark forest with snow and wind freezing me down to my bones. The cold numbness has seeped into my soul. I know what warmth is so I remember, but I do not KNOW it. Difference.

I laid this and my soul bare before Andi because I knew I was safe. We talked and talked and talked. After a while we ended up back in front of our house, and the thought that came to mind was The Lion King. I do love that movie, but the particular scene that stuck out into my mind was when Simba has grown and is yelling into the empty night sky that he feels alone, so alone.

You said...(watch this)

 I shouted this at Andi. False, I shouted this at God.
"You said you'd always be there for me, but you're not. It's because of me, it's all my fault. It's all my fault."
Broken, dejected, and weeping before God. That is where it ended in my mind.

We sat there for a while, and God moved through Andi because that is not where it ends in the movie and she shouted back.

"WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?" (I know this movie, as a child it was my Moulin Rouge, but the next part was silent in my own narrative)
"Well, he see's his father."
"Right, but what happens? How does he see him?"
"He see's him in his reflection in the water."

That moved me this morning to search this clip out. To dig a bit deeper. So if you haven't watched the first clip, watch it. Watch how it skips over the ending...watch how Mufasa doesn't speak back. That was the story I was allowing to speak in my life.

BUT THAT'S NOT HOW IT ENDS...

It's not over(watch this)

Do you see it? I see it, and I am making my way back to the cabin. I am going to find that damn door. Now that I think about it, it probably has to be opened from the inside, but I don't want to leave again. I want to see my Father.

I am thankful for PT Cruisers.

+Hebrews 13.5

The Epidemic of Misfit Toys

There is an epidemic rising which the devil has been oh so quietly plotting. 

It is the epidemic of misfit toys. The toys that don’t fit in and a culture that has only compounded the problem. It is the epidemic of one night stands, drunken stupors, and filling a hole in your heart. It has been around since the day of the fruit, but that’s the danger of this epidemic. It is a silent killer, always morphing and changing yet remaining the same. Like water filling a jar or vase-it takes on a certain shape, and may look different but the water is still water, the hole is still the hole, sin is still sin, separation from God is still darkness.

   

People need to hear, people need to see. This epidemic is not clearly defined-yet. 

This semester has been a personal form of hell. Sometimes I think as a storyteller I become over-dramatic, but that does not negate the fact that this semester, though the last one here at CCU, has been one of the hardest. It has been about self-awareness, it has been about the past moving into the future, it has been about my candle like faith being snuffed out by stuffy stodgy Theology classes. Speaking of God is an extremely dangerous and difficult endeavor to embark on. To do it well? Near impossible. 

Each week seemed to cascade into the next with all of the problems and pains with no resolution. It was a rather dark tunnel spiraling towards what felt like nothing. Many (and I mean many) tears were shed. Then about two weeks ago, something happened. To arrive at this point we must start where any story starts. The beginning.

"I don't know what to do. Things come to life when we talk about them."

"No, things come to light when we talk about them."

A struggle all semester. Exploring where life stops and light begins. I felt like giving words to my deepest darkest thoughts gave them life, and to be honest they did. They stuck to me like a shadow. It felt like this scary little monster with sharp fangs had been unleashed upon my soul. What we have to come to realize is that the monster is there whether we accept it or not. 

That is where I am at today. That is where I found myself two weeks ago. Dealing with the ugly tough life that my monster is, but also realizing that I am dealing with it. I am allowing myself to be fully me, and yet still working towards something more. It is such a beautifully broken paradox. The sharp fangs will always be part of my story, whether it is just a scar or a monster I battle until His glory returns. I am leaning towards the latter, unfortunately-but hey, that's life.

Do you know what the monster is called when left in darkness? Shame.

Do you know what shame is? Believing-not that you make mistakes, but rather that you are a mistake.

Do you know what shame needs to grow? Darkness, guilt, silence, isolation.

No shame. That is where I am choosing to life, or at least trying. 

You may be wondering how this comes full circle. To be honest I am not sure it does, but I do believe we would all be surprised at what monster others are dealing with.  The Island of Misfit Toys, a place of isolation and loneliness. This is why I say we have a epidemic rising. An epidemic of misfit toys, an epidemic of monsters being kept in darkness, an epidemic of scar riddled bodies that we are trying to hide under band-aids. The reason this epidemic is unknown and unidentified? Because we won't talk about it. Start somewhere, somewhere safe. I believe you would be surprised at how many times you'll start to hear "me too" as your monster is brought to life. Start taking hold of your story. Bring it before others and God. God show up, please. I am begging you.

+1 John 1.7