Starting from the bottom

When I entered "real" college life at the university I got my bachelor's from, I had a lot of things going for me, like the fact that I was 6 years older than most incoming freshman, or that I had already finished an associate's degree at a community college.

My last two years of college went by fast, and after climbing that massive mountain of homework, whilst balancing res life involvement, working out, friends, girlfriend, family, and work, I find myself at a false summit.

What is a false summit, you ask? It's the point during an arduous hike that makes you question why you let your friend convince you to carry a 40 pound pack miles uphill, you're gasping for breath, your pack straps are digging into your soft shoulder flesh, and you crest the rise with one last burst of energy gathered from one of those foul-tasting larabars you ate half of in an attempt to look hiker-y, your eyes look up and see...more rock. More shale-filled trail upon which to toil ever upward. And wayyy up there, somewhere behind the rocks and ceaseless evergreens is a flatish spot where the pain ends.
It feels like starting from the bottom all over again. Except you don't have fresh legs or an optimistically sweat-free brow; you're tired and emotional and weepy, like the survivors of Jurassic Park.

What am I trying to convey with all this outdoor-sy + 90's blockbuster movie language?

That I'm twenty-six years old, a college graduate, in good health and good standing with friends and family (and even government), and I feel like I'm just now beginning to learn how to live.

How did those successful people do it? How do they get up everyday, peppy and confident and successful-ish? I think I must be a lazy person.

But I'm determined to learn. I've been looking for work as a writer or admin or something cool and in my wheelhouse for about five months. Now, because of my dismal results in that area, I'm living with my parents and working for my dad in his start-up house renovation business, doing painting, caulking, mowing, tree-chopping--and I am actually enjoying it.

The scary part is that I feel like I'm still not being a cool adult. The type that pays for their own cell phone bill and stuff. The type I want to be. I have to be that adult someday soon, but I'm not ready yet, even though I'm trying to be.

I guess the hike isn't over yet.

And I know from those moments, the only thing to do is suck air and keep your boots moving.

Dear Talon Staff,

I've just completed reading two articles, “The Buzz on Campus,” and “Disciplinary Discrepancies” in the April edition (2014) of your publication. First of all, I'm excited that these articles made it to the press, as I am continuing to find NU's newspaper increasing engaging.

At the outset of my letter to you, I'm confused and irritated by the inability of a select few rational, friendly, and intelligent students to table their own apparent inconvenienced state—whether that's: not drinking, abstaining from pre-marital sex, or

resisting the urge (We've all struggled with it, so no judgment here) to kype a grip of toilet paper.

If you sign a contract, then most normal people, especially the other party involved in the contract, will expect you to fulfill the responsibilities, which by your signature, you have agreed to. Signing the lifestyle contract means you've agreed to abide by the rules therein for your time as a Northwest Student. Same as any other contract you sign for work, getting a driver’s license, marriage, etc. The lifestyle contract is not forever, it’s just for a short time in the grand scheme of things. But either way, it’s your choice to sign the thing or not.

The voices for change

YES, individuals within, and the community as a whole should "challenge the process" if it's not working. Evaluating our goals and methods as a committed group of Christians is a very good thing. I recognize that intelligent, upstanding, well-spoken individuals would like some NU policies to change. To you who hold integrity in high regard, I give you my appreciation, and furthermore, my ear.

I find SPU’s alcohol policy to be mature and reasonable—something I wouldn’t mind seeing NU adopt. However, there lies a stark contrast between promoting such a change through mature, proactive means (like face to face conversations with Student Life staff, President Castleberry, or Pastor Phil) and decidedly grievance-centered talk directed to people of like opinion and status.

The cries of "Injustice!" from those who only speak out when it is to their direct, personal benefit (because they've just broken the contract they signed and want to get out of or whine about their punishment)—that just doesn't seem the same as first constructively communicating with individuals in charge of the lifestyle agreement and disciplinary process. The latter is the action of a mature, empathetic, community-minded Christian. The former is the reaction of a person who, it seems to me, cares mostly about his or her own self.

The time to decide if drinking alcohol is something you just can't live without (for a few years) is PRIOR to signing the contract. Not after.

            Some Minor Issues

I'd also like to point out a discrepancy I noticed between the two articles. In one, apparently "73% [of students polled] admitted to drinking while attending NU," but in the next, "Most students at Northwest University live a definitively clean, Christian lifestyle. They don’t drink…" Logically, it is difficult to reconcile the two statements. But I don’t want to commit the same error I decry. I’d like to offer my opinion in service of solution-minded dialogue.

Regarding the “Responsibility to Judge Each Other” section, I think some people may see the parallels between the handbook’s instruction for students to confront other students and the first step of the Scriptural process for confronting wrong doing (set out in Matthew 18:15-17). The quoted student who “scoffed” at the handbook’s instruction may not have understood the demeanor implicit to godly confrontation, as Galatians 6:1 outlines, “in gentleness and humility.”

Under the “Not the First Time…But Not the Same” heading, the cases are clearly different in terms the number of offenses, and in what time frame they were committed. Additionally, Sarah Jobson and Kim Stave oversee different realms of Student Life. It should be no surprise, therefore, that students in different realms (apartments vs. dorms, for instance) see different people regarding their offense(s).

So, what do I think should be done?

How about all the students bemoaning their poor, poor existence without alcohol, pranks, sex, or a hoard of T.P. just go have a frank, civil chat with any member of the Student Development staff. As one quoted student in the aforementioned articles said, "She took the time to get to know me." The professors and staff at NU are not sadistically gallivanting around on a high horse of justice, slapping innocent students with the cruel, iron-clawed talon of punishment.

They actually care about us.

They give their time, attention, and affection to us.

They pray for us.

I think it's us, students of NU, who don't understand the proper, life-giving relationship between love and discipline. The two are married together. The sooner we realize that, the sooner our time at NU will change from slaving away for a degree under a vague, rumored air of oppression, to a life of joy supported by practicing thankfulness (true worship). We actually have a LOT to be grateful for.

Maybe it's time we started using our voices for rejoicing.

Here, I’ll start. I’m grateful for all the students—whether I agree or disagree with your opinions—who join in the continuing conversation for improving our school.

I’m grateful for professors and staff I’ve gotten to know, who consistently show me they care about me: my joys, difficulties, and in-betweens.

I’m grateful for a God who I know led me to NU, to spend two wonderful years engaging in my areas of passionate interest, and enjoying some of the best relationships a person could ask for.

Sincerely,

Wilson Pruiett

Northwest Student

Home for summer

A few miles from the boy’s home Rafael mentioned the trees. “This place, it very beautiful, but I need busy—lots of people. Too quiet here, not enough people.”

When he said the word, “busy” he swirled his hands in the air, taking them off the wheel briefly. Apparently swirling meant busyness.

The boy next to him smiled at the thought, and offered his own view, though watered down for the immigrant tow truck driver. “Yeah, if you like the peace and quiet it’s a nice place, very secluded. But I know what you mean.”

Rafael nodded quickly, though from their two hour drive from university back to his parent’s house the boy had gathered that Rafael didn't quite understand as well as he showed.

The two sat comfortably in the cab of a clean, new tow truck driving along narrow roads among dense, richly green trees set just off the edge of the Puget Sound. The boy’s car hung onto the towing apparatus at the truck’s rear. That faded crème-colored Oldsmobile had been packed to the ceiling with college stuff: duffels stuffed hurriedly with clothing, a carefully wrapped antique picture, the boy’s massive desktop computer tower lovingly shielded with a dirty comforter, and many more college-esk items.

Though he tried to be friendly and make authentic small-talk, the boy wasn't much for talking to strangers. 

They chatted about commuters who had houses on the peninsula and took the ferry into Seattle every weekday. The boy said he’d never want to do that, it would be too wearisome. Rafael nodded again, though rather weakly. Perhaps, the boy thought, Rafael wouldn't mind it as much because he already drove everywhere for his job and commuting meant joining a massive stream of travelers, all on their way to work—the epitome of “busy”—and that’s why the middle-aged tow truck driver gave such a slight assent to the comment.

Before the boy knew it, they’d completed driving the long, gravel road back to his parent’s house—where he’d be staying during the summer. Rafael unhitched the Olds, the two males shook hands, and Rafael drove away while the boy walked into the house to hug his mother and to start settling in for the next three months.

Like stars

“What are you chasing?” August asked him, her blue eyes sparkling portentously, like stars.

            David had been sitting at his desk, back hunched over a paper, marking and scribbling bits of thoughts and corrections on the manuscript with his dulled, chewed up no. 2 pencil.  At her question, he raised his head and turned; a half-startled, half-confused look on his face.  His mouth opened slightly to answer, but he caught himself, and his eyes shifted their expression.  The question had sunk into his psyche with delayed effect, ripping and tearing him away from his stream of thought like a barbed hook yanks a reluctant fish from coursing waters.

            August, with her dusky, sunset hair pulled back, looked a magnificent sage in the warm afternoon light.  She had her arms at her sides, and her chin extended forward, as if to help stick the question in her brother’s brain.

            The young man, his dark hair slung carefree over a knotted brow, looked down at their apartment’s brown shag carpet.  He rode the question like a wave, deeper into his own motives.

            What have I been chasing?

            Suddenly his life took sharper focus, against the half-filled picture of his future, things popped into being: his vicious obsession with getting good grades, his strict self-discipline for keeping his room and the whole apartment clean, efficient, organized…and strongest of late, the thoughts that dwelled ever-increasingly on the girl two apartments below.

            Where am I going?

            The second question struck him harder.  If the first violent inquiry into his motives had been the hooking of a fish, this next one was the swift slamming of its head against an unshakeable rock.  Clearly, this wasn't catch and release. 

It meant to eat him. 

And this time, the enemy wasn't pounding on the walls from outside; it had slipped past his defenses and was unashamedly beginning to wreak havoc on the inside.

            “I…don’t know.” He replied.  The breath, lodged in the back of his throat, sighed outward in tandem with him leaning back in his chair; flopping, back in his chair, to put it more aptly. 

            He looked back up at his sister for her response.

            She smiled---or at least he knew she smiled, though her mouth did not show it---with the loving triumph of a sister bringing her brother light when he’d been walking in the dark; unaware of his path.

            “Well,” she said, turning on her heel, “You should figure that out.”

            Before he knew it, her retreating ponytail had bounced all the way down the hall and closed itself inside her room.

            Yeah…I suppose you’re probably right.

            He turned back to his desk, and stared at his midterm paper, due in a few days.  His eyes unfocused themselves, and the white page blurred its inky lines together, pushing him back into his thoughts.

            What am I chasing?

“Life is Short…Eat Cookies"

            I saw the phrase plastered on a charmingly decorated sign inside a local bakery. The thought is cute, and causes me a chuckle.  It might even make some people think, “You know what? ---Yeah! Life is short.  Why not buy a few pastries? I deserve some release from all my stress.”  And hence, the bakery gains a bit more business.  However, behind the cuteness, and the playfully veiled marketing ploy lurks a pernicious belief-system---about human existence and what happens after death---which seems to say, “there is no real rhyme or reason to life, take all you can get now, because all you've got is this one short life to do it in!”

In actuality, life is not short.  

Whether you “believe” in some sort of continuation after death, or not, the truth is that everyone will exist forever.  The only difference will be in the quality of existence.  You will not “sleep when you are dead.”  If you do not profess Jesus Christ, and live for Him, then the burden of this world’s drama and problems will not cease.  You won’t “finally be done with the problems of life.”  At the point when your heart stops and your body quits working, your spirit will find a place far more advanced in its torments and pains. 

The world did not involuntarily *poof* into existence, and your current sufferings will not *poof* out of existence if you aren’t living for God.  In this world you will have trouble; in the next world you will face two basic life/existence package deals.  The first is the eternal life and worship of the most beautiful being ever: God Himself.  The second is unceasing pain, gnashing of teeth, burning, decay, sorrow, anguish and torture of which we on earth have no real understanding or comprehension, yet.

The good news is that Jesus loves every human very deeply and cares for them a whole lot.  So He gave each one the opportunity to receive the life He has.  He actually took every person’s sin; their condition of being separated from God in a woeful existence (on earth).  He gives it at a price; He gives life to those who give their lives to Him, wholly and completely.  After the initial freedom through surrendering to Jesus, every believer is given hope to continue living in the world, until Jesus returns.  This Hope which anchors their soul, giving them perseverance and strength, is their promised home, New Jerusalem; a city of mind-boggling size and beauty.  It may sound ridiculous to some, but the love and future hope that He pours out to those who willingly surrender far exceeds any “lost benefit” of living independent of Him.

So, if I were to amend the statement, “Life is short…Eat cookies,” I would probably say,

“Life is very long…Choose carefully.”

8 More Days

Till I fly out of SeaTac, headed for Kansas City and the International House of Prayer.

I'll be living in the apartments on campus, along with other interns, until next April.  It equates to about 6 months of total time spent there, if you take out the Christmas break I'll be spending back in Washington State.

I hope to blog here often about what I'm learning and experiencing while residing there.

Until then, I need to stay off the computer and get some serious packing done!

Brief thoughts

I heard a man speak today, for perhaps, 15 minutes.  And before I knew it, I was back at the place that I know well: The knowledge of how far off from where God and I both long for me to be.
There's something missing in my life.

I feel like today confirmed it.  It's the love of God.

It stands at the center of my unwieldy disposition, my fears, my future, my work ethic...

As if it is the Sun, and articles of my life are planets and space debris orbiting it...as if to say, "we're in this mess of a chaotic jumble and we're circling the main issue.  Look at the core of your life, and you'll see it too, Wilson."

As with my last post, I reiterate that I am "heading West"figuratively-spiritually...and I've decided to begin looking at physically-really doing that as well.

Someone said something this week about "doing God's will is not so much about going where He wants, but more often about doing His will wherever you are."  So, I'm considering paths which I had not considered previously.

Anyway, this seems to been the limit for length in which I could term this post "brief thoughts."

Farewell, and good hunting to each of you!
~Wilson.

Between the borders

This entry could as easily be entitled, "Entangled in the Curtain".  Although, at second glance, the word, "entangled," is a bit of a doozy.

Fact: The term, "doozy" comes from an automobile, called the Duesenberg, built in the early 1900's.  The vehicle was known to be very ornate and outlandish.
---------------------------------------------------------
I am not skilled to understand what I am going through.  As if stuck between the lands of past and future, I am wavering here, having crossed...and yet, not quite crossed the borders of both.  I paused in this state of mind tonight.  Thinking on "life" and "stuff"...

Asking myself, "Where are you going?".  Hah! Reminds me of a song I used to sing as part of a children's choir.  That seems like another life, watching the images pass through my memory.  Maybe the inconclusive nature of these type of thoughts is what drove Solomon to such cold and pruny words in Ecclesiastes?

If my life is a vapor...and I am dust returning to dust...
....
These thoughts are only cold beauties.  With no heart.  Much like a vixen female, they lure me with their shallow stamped eyes and vampiric intentions.

...Not sure where that came from.
....I'm not removing it though.
-------------------------------------------------------------
My heart is so hungry these days.  I can't help but feel the urge to grab a girl's hand when she's talking to me, no matter who she is...Or to catch myself daydreaming about having a significant other...just being able to relax into her arms, rest in fullness of love...Everyday my heart longings grow more pronounced.  And to this day, I pray them into alignment with what an even deeper craving shouts for.  The Reality of the person of God.  And His relationship with me.
I want real Jesus.
Not letters in a book or sermons or suedo-church clubs that scrape by with teacup sized portions of living water.

I was not made to be tempered and contorted into uniform shapes with others...Like part of some christian garden full of banzai trees, being pruned and meticulously shaped into a lifeless-vegetable-borg army.

I was made for mountains with wind rushing over the trees, for rock climbing and shouting, for dancing with recklessness, and sharp, ringing laughter.  I was made for abounding life, prancing and leaping within my smile.  I was made to be happy.  To be consumed with beserker-like passion for love with my King.  I was made to be a man of strength and beauty.  I know this.
I feel it speaking...deep inside me.
Always slowly pulsing, like the deeper echo of a heartbeat in my bones, in my core, in...my spirit.

My heart is on a journey "westward", to the uncharted wild lands, to find Jesus.  I've packed my proverbial bags and left.  I'm going to look for the Spirit of God out in the wilderness.
This is my heart.
This is my plan.
I'm unalterably set on this path.  I may be a part of this life, the same as I was yesterday, but if you watch close enough, you'll see my heart is lost out there...wandering in search of God.

letter to a friend

Dearest Jesus,

My life is moving at light speed.  I feel like we're in the millennium falcon and the stars are rushing past us.

I don't want to miss out on the amazing things that are happening.  I want to slow my senses down and drink in every drop.
I try to believe that it's just a "season of divine acceleration" (haha) and that it will pass.  That soon we'll come out of warp speed and I'll have time to walk the autumn color-coated quiet streets and lazily contemplate beauty, romance, and dreams.  Doing things like that would be nice.

I want you to know, I think about you often.  I long to see your face.  I daydream about falling into your arms, and having peace wash over me...in one feel swoop wiping me clean, and leaving me in your warm embrace.

I don't understand where you're taking me...I know it's toward you, though...always toward you.

I'm not sure my point in writing you tonight, except...perhaps the therapeutic virtues of communicating that which is upon one's heart.  Anyway, I'm not looking for easy answers, but I am searching for You.  It's hard right now...not being able to touch You.  I want what we have to be real and tangible, to speak face to face, to know you like your Father knows you...deeply, intimately, fully.

That day will come.  It just hurts here, until it does.  My strongest affections and desires are for you.

Sincerely.

Questions without answers

"If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor,
he too will cry out and not be answered." ~Proverbs 21:13

Does this mean...the bum I awkwardly ignore, who smells like alcohol, when he's asking me for money, bothering me in Seattle?...The family that is "homeless," but has been begging at the same place for weeks, apparently not seeking help elsewhere?...The advertisements on television?...The requests in the back of christian books?...Anyone and everyone who is need?

I struggle with giving money to those who I believe don't deserve it/will waste it. 

Dear Jesus, rend my heart for the meek---no matter what they "deserve".

I must confess...

I've had to tell people some hard things this week.
Not hard for them to hear, but hard for me to make my mouth say.
Difficult for My heart to allow (because of Pride and Fear).
I'll get back to this later in this post...

I think often of myself as a vessel.  or...maybe a fridgerator is a better example.
And all the little hang-ups and hurts that are absorbed in normal life pile up like garish magnets and clips on the fridge door.  I really feel, and experience that confession wipes those things off.
It's really simple I suppose.  No mind-boggling christian-ish revelation here. lol.  But maybe we mistake simplicity for weakness...

All that to say, my point is simple: It is my growing personal belief that

 CONFESSION is the primary means of initiating holiness,

righteousness, godliness, and other 'ness's.

I am further persuaded that the power of confession (and to the next degree, repentance) is largely untapped in the lives of God-seeking Christians today.  Often times Confession and Repentance seem to just be meer steping-stones to the 'other stuff' of Christianity.  I believe that confession is so powerful and effective, that it is to be the backbone of a separated, spiritual lifestyle, in the midst of a carnal, physical world.  Confession is intimated linked to the power and the righteousness of Christ. Exhibit A:

James 5:15

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

Confession and power are associated in the same verse.  I don't know, something to think about...

Let me further elaborate. Those little things that pile up are, furthermore, like weeds. If you don't remove the root, or if you ignore the growing issue, sooner than you could have imagined...it overwhelms the scenery.

And confession can be the hand-trowel, or the bulldozer (depending on the strength of your weed problem) you need to redecorate...so-to-speak. Breaking from the worldly parellels, I believe Confession, like much of our God-given activities has far-reaching consequences outside of just the life of the confessor.
Exhibit B:

Daniel 9:20-21
While I was speaking and praying, confessing my sin and the sin of my people Israel and making my request to the LORD my God for his holy hill-

While I was still in prayer, Gabriel, the man I had seen in the earlier vision, came to me in swift flight about the time of the evening sacrifice.

Think about the link between confession and the visitation (and really all that followed).
My personal confessions have largely been in relation to bitterness. 

Bitterness is all about holding on.  Confession is all about letting go. 

How much are we holding onto that keeps us from walking in the freedom and power God desires to give us?

I'm going to hack the post off here, and end in simply stating:
I think power of confession is largely overlooked.

The Heart-Wrenching Treachery of Israel

Jeremiah 1-5

(4:19) "Oh, my anguish, my anguish!  I writhe in pain."

This morning I was struck, bitterly struck, by the first chapters of Jeremiah.  Let me explain.
(basic summary: Israel was the favored child of God, they gave up that position to seek fake gods)

When I understand first and foremost, the intense power it took to create me...The vast insight and creativity to form me...The sheer greatness of the act of my creation...And the diligent, tender care with which God oversees his people...All the words of God begin to come into focus much more clearly.
(2:7a) I brought you into a fertile land to eat its fruit and rich produce...
(2:21a) I had planted you like a choice vine of sound a reliable stock...

Having taken that knowledge of my inception, it is a piercing blow to my heart, reading the first chapters of Jeremiah.  I can empathize with the fierce anger that burns within God at seeing his people turn from Him.  It is as if they, ignoring His presence in the room, turn and give credit of their blessed circumstances to another.  How rude! How horrible! How traitorous!  To further condemn them in their acts of disloyalty, it's not just any other they turn to, but one who is so far below the stature of God! It would be like thanking the fly in the window on the morning of December 25th for all the Christmas gifts you receive!
It is a preposterous thought, an insane and ridiculous notion, but Israel has committed this sin again and again!
(2:11-12) Has a nation ever changed its gods? (Yet they are not gods at all.) But my people have exchanged their Glory for worthless idols.  Be appalled at this, O heavens, and shudder with great horror," declares the Lord.
(2:27a) They say to wood, 'You are my father,' and to stone, 'You gave me birth.'
(2:19b) Consider then and realize how evil and bitter it is for you when you forsake the Lord your God and have no awe of me," declares the Lord, the Lord almighty.

Having given credit where it is NOT due, they were comfortable in this sin.  They refused to acknowledge wrong-doing.  They stayed in their wickedness, they settled in, they made a home there.
(2:25b) ...But you said, 'It's no use! I love foreign gods, and I must go after them.'

The time came, however, when things turned sour.  Their childish ignorance turned to childish tantrums.  They wanted God to save them, console and comfort them, just like old times.  Israel raged against God, they ignorantly forgot their wayward lives, their rebellious history of stinking sin.  They were blind as moles...Content to play in the dirt till it suited them no longer.  They pitied themselves, crying out for saving; wailing, turning bitter and casting accusations upon their God.
(2:27b) ...yet when they are in trouble, they say, 'Come and save us!'
(2:29) "Why do you bring charges against me?  You have all rebelled against me," declares the Lord.

Listen to how God sees the His beloved acting...
(2:23b-24) You are a swift she-camel running here and there, a wild donkey accustomed to the desert, sniffing the wind in her craving---in her heat who can restrain her?  Any males that pursue her need not tire themselves; at mating time they will find her.
(2:33) How skilled you are at pursuing love!  Even the worst of women can learn from your ways.
(3:2b) Is there any place where you have not been ravished?
(3:2c) By the roadside you sat waiting for lovers...
(3:3b) Yet you have the brazen look of a prostitute; you refuse to blush with shame.

Over and over again, Israel is described as the most heinous of philanderers, the most putrid of whores...
And then He says, "Return to me."  God just decides to redeem them.  They turn from their idols and repent.  They weep and cry out in anguished repentance, and God takes them back.
(3:12) ..."Return, faithless Israel,' declares the Lord, 'I will frown on you no longer, for I am merciful,' declares the Lord, 'I will not be angry forever...
During this process of calling them back to Him, he gives promises of safety, prosperity, and righteousness.

Israel is willfully disrepectful and unfaithful, and God leaves them to the just reward of their sins (for a time).  The story ends, though, with salvation, redemption, a returning to their first love: God.
He is a righteous judge and an extreme lover.
It is the most tremendous of logical paradoxes: Just and Loving???  Israel destroyed every miniscule bit of credibility they had with the Lord, grinding it to dust, and yet...And yet He chooses them in the midst of their clothes stained with lust, their homes filled with abominations, and their lives saturated in sin.

Doesn't His furious love just make you wanna weep?...

Words as actions.

I'll be brief.

I revelated (heh, yeah I think I just made that word up) something, 9 days ago.  I was sitting in the bottom room of Larry Gibbs' house, among the many furnitures and in the quiet aftermath of hours of soaking music.  I had asked for him if it was okay for us to spend some time in quiet.  And so: quiet time, we spent.

...See I had come that night with something a bit off.  You know that "off" feeling I'm talking about.  It can be unforgiveness, an idol you've allowed in your life, or simply not abiding in God when he has wanted you to.

So I lay down and waited, with a heart - stance of

"PLEADING/crying out that you move/touch me oh God/I'm desperate to be in the midst of your presence/
I hunger for You!" 

I don't know how long it was that I had been in a waiting stance that night (up until the point of asking for quiet)...but probably 3 minutes into the quiet of that room, I heard God speak into my mind. "Go home fulfilled"

Now, this is the moment I want to focus on.  Because God had spoken the words saying what I should be, but AT THE SAME TIME, made me what I should be. I became fulfilled.  And thus I realized that inherent in God's speaking of promises/commands is the actual work of what the promise/command declares.

He does both at once!  The provision for the working out of what he has promised christians is GIVEN and set out in the moment that the promise is spoken.  (sidenote: I realize God is eternal and this description doesn't work well with theological thoughts of God/time/when but you'll have to give me grace for that :)

*Now that's multitasking!*

SO! If we are to run with this thought, this TRUTH about God, I can say that when God has promised me a future of speaking to the nations about his Gospel, He has made the way for that.  given me everything I need for that.  mental struggles of my ability, preparedness, choices, timing, etc need to be CEASED and silenced...
I am ready. You are ready.  We have been made ready for each "mission" and "leading" of God in our lives, by his very word of telling us to do it.

When God tells me that I need only speak what is in my heart during a message in front of 75 teenagers at a youth winter retreat in 14 days, He is saying that He has chosen me for that.  He has prepared me for that. And all the details (so-to-speak) have been seen to. completed. finished.
hmmmm.
something to think about.
or better yet, to agree upon, and walk in.



Okay, so I lied.  I wasn't quite "brief" hahaha, but I'm sure you're all the better because of it.

Oh, and I almost forgot.  The best part of the night was the 45 minutes that followed that revelation with joyful thanksgiving flowing from my heart.  It's so cool to me that God blesses us by making the act of blessing Him so euphoric, and satisfying to our souls.

What I've learned

Nehemiah made confession for his whole nation/people. God blessed him and used him to lead his people back into right relationship.
Can I do the same for my people?

For some, we have to be different to become what we're meant to be.
It's lonely sometimes, but it's fulfilling, always.

Hard things must be done.
The outcome makes it worth it.

Spiritual Health is something to be maintained.
Continually resisting evil is necessary.


Yesterday I got my hair cut into a mohawk by a silly Filipino woman.
I went to Wal-mart, bought two boxes of hairdye.
I went home and spent the next 2 hours-ish changing the color of my mohawk to fiery orange with red tips.
Friends, family and pets have been doing double-takes ever since. They don't recognize me at first. The dogs bark and the people exclaim.
I want my heart to be a spiritual fiery-colored mohawk. Blatantly open in it's statement of faith: "I am bold. I am strong. I am confident. And I burnnnnn with purpose."

At Least It's Not Raining Butter.

This isn't a story about the brighter side of things, or greener grass.
I see green grass all the time in Washington state. (Though brightness isn't something to be expected in the winter here...)

It's frustrating to do hard things.

Talking to lost, misfit people is like trying to catch a frisbee with oven-mitts on.
But nonetheless, talk I do. Because it's the lost ones that I want to engage.---the ones who fit into society as well as a square peg in a round nostril. Even if they somehow wedge themselves in, it's super uncomfortable for the nose!

The posers deserve my attention. my valid conversation. my honest heart.
The overlooked and ashamed, that's who I'm hoping to get to know.
The embroiled and the blind need my compassion.
The idiots too. They need patient understanding from me. As hard as it is for me to say, those "idiots" who I can't help but rage at, within my heart, they need what I've been given.

I'm not doing a great job by my own standards, yet.
I'm just telling you what I see on the horizen.
I am called to be a Shepherd of God's people. And that means I leave the 99...


hmm.
...I wonder what that feels like.

of Desires.

"My soul thirsts for God! For the Living GOD!!
When can I go and meet with Him?!"
(emphasis mine) ~Psalm 42:2

I'm unaware of how many others feel when it comes to the desires of their hearts, but I'm becoming more intensely aware of my own desires. I've discovered that I have a craving which defies description or definition. Words like hunger and thirst seem inadequate to represent this...driving desire. Yearning and longing come closer to it, but to be truthful, even they seem paltry in comparison to the actual feeling that growls and strains within me.

I credit my life in God with the leading of my heart by this insatiable hunger.

My own desires can end up leading me to walk a line which I oft' fail to balance upon. I end up tumbling with painful and injurious consequences.
However, this unidentifiable appetite ever leads me to God. Like a compass that can't help but point North, His spirit in me discerns the right path. Imposters end up being shown for what they are; other things just don't satisfy the way You do, God.

Ever more of You in me, God. Let my desire be refined till it shines pure and soft for the One and True fulfillment. Let my spirit be lead like a deer to water, ever more, ever more.

smoke and fire poem

I rush in like

wheres the fire?

Can't see the flames

for the smoke.



I bust in with

good intentions,

living water,

but I choke.



wheres the exit?

burnt scorched feet,

repleat with guilt,

where they've walked

and the strongholds I've built,

shells of dark worry populate and fill

my hurried hasty heart.




Oh say, Can we see,

the freedom we need?

Do failures build mountains,

or just build our grief?


When winter has come will we live

or let go?

I've been through the season, and now

I know that I know. :)

Pushing through the Crowd.

in my life, its easy to get distracted.
nothing new, right?
we all do.

WELL!

Heres the rub, and its a bad one.
not like a massage, or a gentle pat.

I know this now, that God has a creative and unique path for my life.
I have a specific set of problems and strengths, friends and family.
I am not living out a textbook or template.

A piece of paper told me that I'd improve my effectiveness by "Declaring".
Heres a declaration: I don't know about where i'm going, but i'm dreaming and leaving the rest to God. Call it impractical, but I'm trusting in this venture.

I get distracted by paths, giftings, hints of possibilities for my future, but the truth is that I must remain centered on Christ. it's simple but true.

I don't know how I'm going to learn the skills necessary to be the man I want to be,
But I do know a Man who I was made in the image of. And to my credit, he's actively at work in my life. Distractions in the form of self-progress come my way more often than you'd guess, but I must stay focussed. "run the race" you know?

Here's another declaration:
(this isn't a fierce rub like the previous. It's more of a brain massage)
Being open to the odd leadings often leads to beautiful, big, heart changing experiences.

thank you for reading.
that is all.

Step Two

(This entry is an old draft, from several months ago, that I saved and never posted. I've gone back and finished it for your viewing pleasure.)

It's been a while since we last spoke



The craziest thing about being vulnerable is the results! surprising!



I work with three women, they all have 2-3 kids, families, etc. This one co-worker in particular was having a rough couple days (she's going through menopause). I don't know exactly what that means, but she reminds me often that she IS going through it, so I imagine its unpleasant in the least. Anyway, I was praying for her one night as I lay in bed, just conversationally talking to God about helping her...



And I got this idea to write her a letter. So I sat up, clicked on the light, and began writing. I told her what I appreciated about her and ended with a short bit of prayer for her. The next day I left it on her desk before she got into work.



Later that day, I walked into her office looking for a certain product, and as I shuffled through items, she said, "Thank you for your thoughts in that letter. It was sweet."
...I turned and said said, "You're welcome", and found myself facing a pair of eyes that weren't purely thankful...



She paused, as if waiting for me to respond with more, and when I did not, she pressed in further. "You make it seem like I'm going through hell. I'm doing fine. I'm just going through menopause." (The last word, "menopause" spoken with a bit more emphasis than the rest.)

I replied that I hadn't been trying to imply anything of the sort, and I apologized for how my words affected her. The conversation ended awkwardly and it took her a few days to get back to treating me normally.

That's the story, and here is the concluding thought:

This is an example of ME, doing something outside my comfort zone. I usually don't like doing stuff like giving a heartfelt letter to a co-worker for fear of reactions like the one she had. ha.

It actually wasn't that bad though; it didn't affect me like I thought it would. I feared being honest and sincere like that because I thought a bad reaction would wreck and batter my heart.

Not too say that it was warm and fuzzy all over; it kinda sucked, being honest and friendly and have it taken completely different than expected. But I guess I ended up feeling okay with it, because I did my best to make good of the situation. In fact, you could say I was proud of myself after that. That day was a step in the right direction for the growth and maturity of my heart.

more later. :)

Step One: It starts with confidence.

I've packed my proverbial bags and set my metaphorical step,

and the first mile marker on this journey around the world (of self-discovery) is Step One: Confidence.



It takes a lot of faith to do things. I generalize the term: "things," because each person is different. For me: going to a crowded party and interacting with the huge group bit by bit in those awkward little 3 minute conversations with typical forced laughter at the unwieldy jokes and queer mannerisms and eating the weird snacks that the host has chosen as some cheap attempt at high-browed culture...THAT takes confidence. For others, that'd be easy, and even fun.



I've decided: I have confidence that things will be alright if I do something which scares me. So, I'm trying to do "things" which scare me. And it begins by trying. I have confidence that if I try one little adventure in vulnerability, I'll be okay. And to add to that statement, I have hope that if I keep trying I'll find out wonderful things and grow as a person.

...



The Future (of unknowns). I don't know where I'm going. (I guess, this blog won't actually talk about my growth in confidence, but it'll begin by telling you about the lack of. I apologize for impeding your closure-hungry hearts, and prattling on about this pre-topic: topic.)

---I have often heard it said that Men should have a plan. I've heard Preachers telling women to: "stay away from indecisive Men." ...People that spread and purvey advise like that scare me.

...Because I don't know where I am going. Not that I don't have a plan...It's just that, were I to be ask my plan, I'd answer, "I'm working a part time job and enjoying life, and I feel like that's where God wants me right now, so I'm going to keep doing it and wait to see what He has for my future." And that, my friends, doesn't sound like much of a plan at all. In fact, if you boil it down, my plan is to wait for God to tell me His plan. HA! That sounds much better when I put it that way...It seems to convey a sense of spiritual security and confidence...
(which is what I'm going for!)

So...I'll end with a question, "What will it take for you to move forward with your future?"

let the pondering begin...