Christian music, Christian life, Christian movies...

So today I began the sad trip back to the Twin Cities.  

Hey y'all.  Here's some new stuff for you.  I'm spending my summer helping out at YWAM Chico again, this time with a summer camp called 24Seven.  It's been incredible so far, with a 3 day hiking trip that really bonded the kids and the staff to jump start the summer.  Now we've been having lecturers come and teach on various topics like hearing God's voice, relationships, identity, and stuff like that.  It's all interspersed with service, as the kids (and staff) are responsible for most of the cleanups after meals on the base.  Sounds easy, but this base becomes a center for summer camps during this season, so depending on the week, there are between 40-500 youth running around.  These youth (between 15-18) are what allow the base to run.  We clean the hotel and other housing to get it ready for the next wave of kids to be blessed by this ministry.

Have you ever noticed a new book's tendency to flip back to pages you've already read?  Of course this is simply because the binding has been open to them longer, but it struck me as fascinating tonight.

"I know all about the despair of overcoming chronic temptations. It is not serious, provided self-offended petulance, annoyance at breaking records, impatience etc. don't get the upper hand. No amount of falls will really undo us if we keep on picking ourselves up each time. We shall of course be very muddy and tattered children by the time we reach home. But the bathrooms are all ready, the towels put out, and the clean clothes in the airing cupboard. The only fatal thing is to lose one's temper and give it up. It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us; it is the very sign of His presence."

C. S. Lewis, Letters (20 January 1942)

Today was a stressful one.  Some new unforeseen expenses have popped up, and being a pretty budgeted guy, they threw me for a loop.

Normally I'd have enough saved up somewhere to handle this, but in light of trying to buy a computer quickly before a promotion ends, all my resources have been pooled elsewhere.  But this is all beside the point.

The point is, I was stressed and worrying about how I was going to pay all the bills that are looming. 

On top of all that, I couldn't find my debit card.  So at 1:30 in the morning, I went out to my car to see if it was in there.  It wasn't and I later found it in my backpack, so that mystery is solved.  Still beside the point, but I'm getting to it.

On my way back to our house, I saw a toad hop.  "Strange," I thought to myself.  Then about 4 paces later, I felt something kinda rubbery hit my foot, but when I looked, I saw nothing. 

Then relief began trickling into my brain.  I think I kicked a toad.

This bizarre late night amphibian punt made me flash back to my time in Fiji.  Every night, the base was littered with toads everywhere.  I thought they were funny and chased them around, but some of the girls hated them.  I had to shoo them out of the girls shower on more than one occasion.

I remembered all the people that lived at that base, the one in Chico, the one in Samoa.  And all of these people are voluntarily serving on a base that they have to PAY to work at.  YWAMers are (generally) completely funded by support from others.  I heard many stories of money showing up in accounts right as the ticket overseas needed to be purchased, anonymous donations allowing outreach into all nations.  These people LIVE this way.  They generally aren't assured of any finances besides what generous supporters have pledged to donate.  And even then, life happens and some supporters are unable to continue providing for YWAMers.

And I'm worried about how I'm going to pay for such a luxury as a brand new, top of the line laptop?

Shame on me.

God has so richly provided in my life.  From my family, who are always willing to help me out, to the 2 jobs i currently have, to the great housing situation with 2 great roommates, to the FREE car I got from my Grandma and Aunt and Uncle (I can't tell you how much I appreciate it); I have an abundance.  I LIVE in abundance.

I know that all I'm given is the light at my feet, and my daily bread.  And, dearest Lord, I'm putting my hand in yours and trusting you to navigate me out of the lack of faith I've shown.  I know that this life is just a passing shadow and I want to put all my hope in You. 

Thank you for letting me kick that toad.
Amen.

For the short time I was a "Pre-Seminary Student" at Concordia University Wisconsin, I quickly grew tired of strategic theology.  I found an inherent inability to trudge through the historic aisles of Christian thought, specifically that of Lutheranism. (not that I would have found it any easier with any other denomination).  It was right after that one semester that I became an art student at Concordia St. Paul.

For whatever reason, I now feel more at home with the people who have radical and probably incorrect theology.  Those people who see God and creation as something not to be grasped, but rather enjoyed and marveled at.  Depending on the day (and oftentimes how late I slept in; starting a day at noon makes me feel like a failure with only half a day left) I'm either appalled at how small and seemingly insignificant I've allowed my existence to become, or delighted at all the intricacies of our highway systems and Life cereal.  (Seriously, somebody had to design that gridded grain wafer, and there's a factory somewhere that produces RIDICULOUS amounts of it that gets shipped out all over the country, using up plenty of fuel and packaging to get it to a store near me, where I can buy and later consume it, which keeps them producing more and stimulates our economy in some small way, keeping people employed so they can buy things they probably don't need like TVs, which keeps ME employed.  But I digress.)

I've found myself throwing things at the metaphorical wall of the universe and seeing what sticks.  I've found some beautiful images of faith this way, but many times it just amounts to nonsense.  I'm ok with this.  It keeps me from boxing God in.

This is where my love of slam poetry comes in. 

My favorite poems are those that I barely know what they're talking about, but I see all of it as if it were right in front of my face.  It's kinda like squeezing your eyeballs further into your skull and then watching the colors and stars dance on your eyelids. 

But with the part of your brain that processes words.

(see attached poem "Jellyfish" by Andrea Gibson, please excuse the language)

It all makes me wonder what God wants from us.  I'm starting to think life isn't meant to be white-knuckled with a clenched jaw and eyelids, but rather admired like a beautifully heartbreaking dance that's just a prelude to the real show that comes after the curtain falls for the first time on our lives. 

I also wonder how many people are going to be surprised when that curtain rises again.

I think God's calling me to broaden my perspective on who He is and what He's made.  Yes, some things are broken, and I am one of them, but redemption is more beautiful than perfection.  He answers our questions of "how are you going to fix this?" and "is it even possible?" not with a step by step list, but rather a "follow me and you'll see".

I like it better this way.

After 6 faithful and wonderful years together, Betty and I are going our separate ways.  Everywhere I went, she was there with me.  We traveled everywhere together.  And if anyone saw her, they knew I was certainly nearby.

We had our rough spots, sure, but doesn't everyone?  The good certainly outweighed the bad, and I knew I could always count on her when the going got rough. 

Recently though, I met someone new.  She presented me an offer I couldn't refuse, and sadly, I think this week marks the end of the line for Betty and I.  I'll always have a special place in my heart for her, as all young men do when it comes to these relationships. 

I'm sad to have to leave her behind, but I'm excited for the new relationship that's about to begin.  I'll be happy if this new gal treats me half as well as Betty did in those early years.  She was so fresh and clean back then, and I was a big fan of those curves. (who isn't?) 

Remember when we got all gussied up for Prom senior year?  That was a good night.  One I won't forget.

I shall speak of your faithfulness to future generations, Betty.  You will not be forgotten.  Rest assured, I will make sure that whoever your next lover is, they treat you like you deserve.

I raise a toast and I tip my hat to you, Betty.  A better companion no man could ask for.

(Also included in the picture, Heidi Tackmann, the girl I went to my Senior Prom with)

Ok, so I'm making a LITTLE bit of headway on that montage from my YWAM experience.  Today I finished a small, yet important piece.  For your 15 second viewing pleasure, here's.

THE INTRO