the essence of orange

herod

2009-12-21T14:47:00.000-06:00

i learned pretty early on how to get what i wanted. i would tweak things to benefit me. to be what i wanted them to be.

i wasn’t told “no”. i was told - anything you want is yours. so i took what i wanted. i took who i wanted.

i was pretty high up on the ladder. some people say my father helped me up a few rungs, but... i deserved it. i was ‘great’.

and once i was there, nothing was going to change that. no thing and no one!

opportunity knocks. they say. me? i say hunt opportunity down and bleed it dry.

i make it happen. if you stand in my way, you won’t be standing long.

and people didn’t normally stand in my way. so imagine my surprise when i hear the buzz about someone who will be taking my place.

me! i’m... king here. people don’t just replace someone like me.

and then i find this person isn’t even grown yet. he hasn’t spent his life grooming for this or defending it. killing for it.

he’s.. just a baby.

people are going nuts over some ancient... myth! some mumbo jumbo about this infant who they think is going to take my place. even surpass me.

i have done anything and everything to maintain my title, my power, and i am not about to let some sniveling, supposedly “special”, baby with a few ‘fans’ change things. do they have any idea what i can do? what i have done?

i am not going to take this sitting down. sitting is for the weak. sitting is for people who cannot stand on their own. that chair is where people lose themselves and give up every ounce of who they’ve made themselves to be and replace it with fear and dependence and a sad state of worthlessness. they don’t even belong to themselves anymore.

i will not sit down. i belong to me. i will not be thwarted. i will not be replaced. i make it happen!

i am great! i am all i need. i am second to no one.
i am herod.

this piece was performed at my church on 12/20 as the last in a three part series called i am second christmas.
my friend jim nailed this piece. jon asked me later how i thought jim did and i told him he did this exactly the way i had imagined it. exactly. very very well done, my friend.

joseph

2009-12-15T09:58:00.001-06:00

there was this girl. isn’t that how the story of every man’s downfall begins? except this.. this wasn’t your ordinary girl. she would say she was, but. no.. not ordinary. not her. she was a dream. she was brought up right, loved the Lord, came from a good family... and her heart. phew! man!

and we were getting married. i couldn’t believe she said “yes”! i was beside myself. smiling like an idiot all the time. the right girl can do that to you. and i found her.

so... you can probably imagine how hard i fell when i found out she was pregnant. and i knew.. we were waiting, you know? so i knew it wasn’t mine.

i felt like i was kicked in the gut. you hear people talk about being devastated but this was.. i was spiraling. this was my downfall. what would our friends say? Our parents? what about our reputation?

i was gonna break it off. wouldn’t you?

but this un-ordinary girl, was carrying an extraordinary child. this was.. it’s hard to grasp even now.. this was God’s son. and He wanted me to stay. and be the child’s father.

a son. every guy wants a son. but my son. i wanted my son. this was not mine! this was not what i wanted.

i was gonna be a father. but not his father? what am i being asked to do? play along with what? what was this?

i thought i was going to have this awesome wife and i was going to build us a house and we’d have our own kids and we’d be living the life! but it turned into this whole thing that’s... not about me. and i can’t do anything about it.

but i can do something about it.

God wants me to stay. i can stay. and He wants me to be a father to His son. i can be the boy’s father.

the perfect life with a wife and kids and a house - it wouldn’t work anyway if God’s not in it. all of that takes backseat to Him and His son. our son. i can put what He wants me to do at the top. that goes first. that’s what i can do about it.

i choose His way.

my name is joseph
and i am second

this piece was performed at my church on 12/13 as the second in a three part series called i am second christmas.
this is the second time i've gotten to write a script for dan and have been just delighted to watch him bring them both to life. very nicely done.

mary

2009-12-07T22:01:00.002-06:00

i’m just a normal girl. from a normal town. my parents have taught me well - to love God. to be good.

and i’ve always dreamed about the day i would get married. doesn’t every girl? i’ve always imagined my wedding day. and what it would be like to have a family of my own.

i didn’t.. i just didn’t imagine it.. like this.

i wanted to wait until i was actually married before i got pregnant. i wanted.. the fairytale. i guess i just expected everything to be ‘clean’ and ‘perfect’.

i don’t think people will look at this and think clean and perfect. they will think ‘tragic’ and ‘family embarrassment’ and ‘hide her away’.

even i think that. sometimes. that it might be easier to hide this. i mean, who would believe it?

“how can this be?” that’s what i said when i found out. how can this be?

who would believe i had never been with a man? but more than that. more than the physical. how can this be that i would find such favor?

i’m human! i think selfish thoughts! i sin! how can it be, then, that a sinful girl would bear a baby boy who would never know sin? who would rescue me from my own? i would give life to my own life-giver?

even now, it is hard to wrap my head around the idea. how do i care for this baby who is greater than myself? how do i dry the eyes that see so far into mine?

i am unworthy. my fears almost drown me. my inexperience frightens me.

but God sees me. and he is with me. and nothing - nothing! - is impossible with him.

may it be then. let it all happen. i will not hide!

because this isn’t about me. it’s so much bigger than me. it’s about Jesus, my son my savior and my God.

it’s about a love so big it can turn a normal girl’s life into something people will not consider tragic, but blessed. his overcoming, rescuing, nothing-is-impossible-for-him love. that’s what it’s about. not me.

my name is mary
and i am second

this piece was performed at my church on 12/6 as the first in a three part series called i am second christmas.
an amazingly talented young lady took on this role and i was thrilled to get to watch these words come to life under her skill and heart. loved it! amy - you did a fabulous job. i'm so proud of you.

peter

2009-05-27T13:18:00.003-05:00

this piece was a joint effort and i cannot accept full credit for it. thanks for all the hands that contributed to this one.

my name means rock.

And for a good long while I actually thought I earned it!

I knew why I got the name. I grew up a fisherman, which will make a man out of anybody. It was nothing for me to take the lead, to speak my mind, to be bold. Sure, I sometimes stuck my foot in my mouth. I’ll even admit that there were times I didn’t have a clue what was going on! But my motto stayed the same; speak first, act first, be first.

There was one BIG time I got it right, though. And that time, Jesus named me Rock. Clearly, this was an affirmation of my leadership capabilities, wasn't it?

The ironic thing is that shortly after I had "earned" my name, I crumbled like a boat on the rocks.

Full of pride and in front of everybody I declared that I would follow Jesus anywhere He went: to the ends of the earth…I even said to death. I would be His right hand man, come what may. Right away He told me to check myself...but I didn't listen. I was arrogant and full of holy zeal.

You know how it works whenever we make promises too big for our britches.

It seemed like just the next day we were completely surrounded by Roman soldiers. Without thinking I took out my sword and tried to lead the fight; I was THE ROCK, I would hold the fort till Jesus had a chance to get away, dying for him if I had to. I didn’t notice that Jesus showed absolutely no interest in defending himself. Instead of following His lead, I was trying to lead Him!

I was so disgusted to see how easily he gave in, like some weak fish caught in one of my nets? I couldn't follow Him to this kind of death! I wanted glory, not jail-time!! So I ran. Suddenly I had no interest in being associated with Jesus whatsoever.

But I didn’t just run and hide, like some of the others. The change that came over me was more than that…it was like I became a different person. I actually went out of my way to convince people I had nothing to do with Him. Point blank people asked me and I said, "No! I'm not one of His!"

You know, in the end there is no real difference between what I did and what…Judas did.

Have you ever crushed somebody like I crushed Jesus?

Have you ever lied to save your skin....?

Have you ever been so disgusted with yourself that you couldn't look someone in the eye?

Yes! I had to say Yes! Me. The Rock! It was over! It should have been over; my part in the story should have ended there.

But it didn't! A couple of days later, all of a sudden there was Jesus. JESUS!! He spread his hands to show us the marks of death, then he flashed His smile to show us the mark of LIFE! He was alive! No, more than that! He had beat back death! We all rushed Him… but it seemed more like He was reaching out to us. He looked me in the eye and took hold of my hand, and said to me, “Rock”. He used THAT name. After all I had done, He still used that name. And with one swift move he pulled me out of my pit of shame.

That was the moment that I really surrendered to Him. Right there, in my heart I declared Him Lord and Leader, Captain and King.

Rock. Hmm. You know I like hearing my name called, because it reminds me that He is my rock and I can stand firm only when I stand on Him.

i am peter

and i am second

this piece was performed at my church 5/10.
i was very impressed with this performance and the joint effort that went into making this script and drama a success.

<

zaccheaeus

2009-05-06T13:36:00.002-05:00

i had a lot of money. i mean A LOT of money. there wasn’t anything i didn’t have or couldn’t get.

and i was secure. i had a government job. i was chief tax collector.

admittedly, i was corrupt. but what did i need integrity for when i had all this money? i could BUY integrity and still be rich.

i had it all. i wanted for nothing.

actually, that wasn’t true. there was one thing i wanted.

you see, there was all this talk about Jesus coming into town. he couldn’t have been more my opposite. as far as i knew he owned nothing, claimed no property, the very government i worked for did not like him... so why was i so interested when there was obviously no material gain by knowing him?

maybe that was just it. maybe i could tell that he did have something. and it was something i didn’t have and i couldn’t buy. there was something in the way he carried himself that spoke of... authority.

some people even claimed that this Jesus was Messiah himself. how else could he perform miracles and act the way he did – out of love and kindness? something in that gentle yet authoritative way of his made me wonder if what they said was true.

i had to get a look. i wanted to see for myself who Jesus was.

but when he came nearer it was obvious i wasn’t going to be able to see him. there were way too many people crowding around him, blocking my view. i’m used to that – i’m not a tall man. but i was a shrewd man and i was used to finding other ways to get what i wanted.

so i ran ahead in the direction he was walking, found a tree with low branches that i could get onto, and climbed. i was perched and ready for him by the time he arrived. i had the perfect spot to see him!

i just sat and watched him approach. closer.. closer.. and i got a really good look.

and then he looked up at me, and with that gentle authority of his he called me down out of the tree and join him – bring him into my home.

moment of truth right there. he laid it out - i could stay on that branch, watching... watching everything and everyone go by and amass my riches and collect my dues. and say i wanted for nothing but really... i had no integrity. behind all that money was a life that was empty and corrupt.

or i could climb down, take this man into my house, into my life, and get to know Jesus. i want whatever this man of authority – of God’s authority – could give me. yes, God’s authority! for this was the man Jesus they talked about. this was God who created and owned everything! my fortune was puny compared to all the heavens and the earth! and life! and truth! and integrity.

all of that flashed through my mind in an instant – and that was all i needed! i climbed down and welcomed him with complete joy!

and he accepted me. right where i was. right in that moment.

the joy in me overflowed. it was pouring out of me and i had to do something. i cried out – take it all! take it all!

and i meant it. the money that i thought was everything – i immediately gave half to the poor and the rest i used to pay back to anyone i had cheated

and when i righted the wrongs i had done – paid back everything i owed, reversed my corrupt ways, my word was finally my word. i was a man of integrity. i was a man of God.

i stood very tall that day.

my name is zaccheaeus
and i am second

this piece was performed at my church 5/3.
brucie was zaccheaeus. i was awed by his performance. well done. very - very!.. well done.

<

a samaritan woman

2009-05-06T13:31:00.004-05:00

i am a samaritan woman. do you have any idea what that means?

being from samaria is bad, at least according to jewish people. they won’t deal with us. period. we are a hated race.

but being a woman is even worse. our own men won’t even talk to us, at least not publicly.

so i’m a woman – an outcast to men, and a samaritan – an outcast to jews. you’d think i couldn’t sink any lower. but i did. i became an outcast to women, too.

i just wanted to be loved. i wanted to matter. i had no station in life, that was clear very early on, and so what else could i have? i just.. i wanted to be loved.

i went through five husbands trying to find love. and i was with yet another man.

the women in town talked about me, i knew that. and i hated it. but this thirst inside of me was bigger than they were. i let it drag me away from everyone except for whatever man i thought would love me.

i was so lonely but being out in public was.. hard. i didn’t like imagining what was being said about me. i was empty.

until i met him.

i would wait till noon to go out for water, knowing full well everyone had already come and gone, just so i wouldn’t have to see anyone else. and so they wouldn’t see me. wouldn’t talk about me. i wouldn’t have to be reminded that i was a disgrace.

i didn’t expect to find anyone there so you can imagine my surprise when i saw a man – a jewish man – sitting at a samaritan well. and he spoke to me.

he wanted me to get him some water. who was this man?

i even pointed out to him – you know, i’m a samaritan woman. it didn’t faze him. instead he tells me about some living water. water that he can provide even though it is clear he has no jug with which to draw anything.

he says the water he is offering is the kind that will quench once for all. i would never be thirsty again.

and then he did the most surprising thing. he told me everything i had ever done. he knew my life, he knew my failures, my junk. he knew everything! and he still offered me this “living water.”

do you have any idea how good that sounded? he wasn’t talking about water anymore. he was talking about that.. that thirst i had carried around with me my whole life. the one i called ‘needing to be loved’. he was offering to satisfy that. but this was love with a capital “L”. he was offering God’s love. the kind that lasts forever.

i wanted it!

i had heard that a man who was God would come.. and that he would know all things.. this had to be him. he told me everything i had ever done! this was HIM!! this man was God. and He wanted to love me.

oh, yes, i definitely wanted that.

i felt like i had just drank the clearest, purest, most quenching water. i was.. i wasn’t thirsty. i wasn’t desperate to be loved. i was.. he loved me.

every bad decision, every ruined relationship i have ever had, i left behind me and i ran into town and told everyone – i told those men, those people, that would have nothing to do with me. i could hardly get the words out fast enough. but i had to tell anyone who would listen!!

they must have seen it all over me – i must have looked as changed as i felt because not only did they listen to me, but they believed! they listened to me! they believed me!

i had been tormented with a thirst i couldn’t understand and i couldn’t satisfy. but this man gave me what no other man could: love. real love. eternally quenching love.

God’s love.

and it fills me to overflowing. and instead of hiding away and avoiding people like i had for so long, i run to them and tell them they can have it, too. i have set everything i used to be aside and have put him first, to share with others about him, to know him, to love him.

i am no longer an outcast. i am no longer a disgrace. i am loved. i am accepted. my thirst is satisfied.

i am a samaritan woman
and i am second

this piece was performed at my church 4/26.
my friend davette played a samaritan woman.
i cried.
i watched all three services.
and cried all three services.
she... moved me!

nicodemus

2009-04-22T21:23:00.003-05:00

i was a pretty top dog. i knew the law backward and forward. i knew it inside and out. and when there were decisions to be made about the law – i was one of the guys they called on. and it was this position that led me to a discovery that changed me.

i was doing what i always do – study the law. read the law. teach the law. observe and promote and exercise the law. and then i find out about this guy named Jesus who was causing all kinds of ‘frustration’, shall we say, amongst my peers. he was said to be teaching the law. but he wasn’t teaching “our law”.

he was teaching - it was so radical - he was teaching that things were more important than the rules. his law was about love. in fact, it really wasn’t law. it was more like... how do i describe it? it was just.. love. “love God”, “love your neighbor”, “love the unlovable”.

and.. it kinda made sense. i mean, i knew what God had said. backward and forward, remember? and it resonated with me. it was starting to sound more like what i had always known to be God’s word. and i would know. i read it constantly. i knew it thoroughly.

i started to wonder why – if this man Jesus was on target with the law.. with God’s word – then why were we getting so upset about it? oh sure, he put some of my peers in their place and that’s always a bit painful to bear. especially when it happens in public. but let’s face it – they challenged him without knowing that he knew his stuff.

i thought, “he must be a teacher. he has to be, to know the law enough to throw those guys for a loop.” people don’t just walk away from a conversation with a pharisee. they crawl. in humility. but not Jesus.

he knew his stuff. but he didn’t act like we did. he didn’t try to act superior. well it was obvious he had some kind of authority, but he didn’t ACT like it. like in a hold-it-over-your-head kind of way. he just wore it. there was something about that...

so i went to talk with him. i admit i was a little trepidatious in meeting with him. so i waited until dark. and he totally called me out on it! he said something about the light coming in to the world and the world loving the darkness instead. i know he meant that for me. so i would know he knew i was hiding the fact that i had come to him. but he also meant that he’s the light. and instead of wanting the light, we just kept choosing darkness.

he also said if i wanted to see the kingdom of God that i had to be born “from above”. that one threw me. but after i left i really started thinking about that. he said it wasn’t about having your mother give birth to you all over again. that this second birth wasn’t even physical. it was “from above”. it was from.. well, it was from him.

he’s from above.

it took me a while but i got it.

this Jesus was offering me something different than the law. better than law. it was radical and frowned upon. it made people in my circle squirm. but it was real. and i could have it. he didn’t put any conditions on it. he laid it out there and if i wanted it, i could take it.

i would like to say that i immediately changed my course, but i didn’t. i was still hiding under the cover of darkness, in a sense. but when other rulers tried to make Jesus out to be a deceiver, i had to say something. they were taking this anger too far. i asked them if our law prevents us from finding out what an accused man is about before we convict him.

their excuse? that i didn’t know the law well enough. they told me, “go look it up. he’s not who he says is and can’t be. it doesn’t match.”

but it did. were they blinded by their own anger? were they that far gone that they couldn’t see it? i could see their accusations were false. i could see they loved the darkness. and i wanted out of it. i wanted this “being born from above” thing. i wanted what Jesus offered.

and so i took it. i exchanged law for love.

when he died.. when they killed him, i knew i had to honor him. he was my number one priority now. and i didn’t care who saw me this time. i took spices and helped prepare his body for burial. but it wasn’t just any gift – it was a gift fit for a king. because he was a king! he is The King. i brought as many people as i needed to carry the spices and if i was noticed i didn’t care – this was for my king.

i knew i’d pay a steep price for what i was doing, but that life to me, that position – being the top dog, wasn’t worth the price of overlooking what Jesus taught. i didn’t care about furthering my career anymore. i cared about making the name of Jesus famous. so that others can hear and know how to get out of the darkness. the law doesn’t change a person. love does. knowing Jesus does. being born from above. i get that now. it just means you don’t use the law and your rules to get to God, you trust God directly, you set aside the darkness, and you choose light. you are born into the light.

when that happens, the other stuff fades away. and Jesus becomes first in your life.

my name is nicodemus
and i am second

this piece was performed at my church last sunday.
my friend jim played nicodemus and did an outstanding job! i was thrilled to see these words come alive through this drama and felt it an honor to get to participate in it, even if it was behind the scenes.

mother's fruit

2009-03-27T11:06:00.002-05:00

from heaven
   i sat stationary
in my velvet

billowy haven
   my spared sanctuary
of winds songs and a violin

and in this room
   challenged by the red
magic marker of fear

i feel at home
   and i stare
at the mother as if enchanted by a fire

i notice a mockingbird making brutal
   attacks on the mere essence
of man microwaves and cash

the final
   shout threatens its presence
with a blast

from a shooting piece of mahogany
   and steel but incomplete
it lacks a whisper

and from heaven i view the destiny
   of these young they cheat
they kill they remain all but wishful

because it states in mothers' resume
   it was air and earth and fire and water
but we choked and buried and burned and drowned

they won't resume
   to welter
in their weeping

they were born a hunter
   it's the kill - the chase
makes them high wounded and drunk

i pause like a computer
   forgetting in it's haste
to think

a
   mazing the pain
they indulge like a cancer

and it will spread through the
   walls and veins of the lame
portholes they call a mansion

noise

2009-03-27T11:04:00.001-05:00

a big blue dictionary laying on the shelf
between two yellow candles in wooden holders
is open to the page with the word
noise

i used it to describe the house
i used it to describe the room
i used it to describe the shelving
it was the books underneath screaming at me

open us, they yelled, open us and see
then throw us back
but don't forget it, child

the pages were laughing at me
calling me nothing
they echoed words from long ago
noises from other people filled me

215 wawona

2009-03-27T10:57:00.002-05:00

the outside is painted a new color
   a whole wall was knocked out for more room
   a new mutt has claimed it as his territory
a den was added where the porch used to be out back

mr bubble no longer resides on the corner of the tub
   popeye's plastic boat has long since retired
   no more child's size 10 sweatshirts in the hall cupboard
the pictures contain yellowed faces of once loved beauty

they walk with a careful toe and
   hold themselves steady with a hand on the wall

have things changed?
   so much so they're exactly the same
   not a trace of time in the house with the
smell of bacon in the mornings

HAIKungfU

2009-03-27T10:46:00.004-05:00

in an attempt to find some lyrics i had written and long since lost, i came across some of my college literature work. one of which was a short page of haiku. they are not related to one another so don't look for a connection that isn't there. i'm not that talented.

crisp introduction
and without further ado
nibble my haiku

dusty saddlebags
wrinkled men worship relics
tick tock time grew short

girl cried but took him
sampling life in trial-size bites
trasting existence

scuffed sunday school shoes
mossy neck tie gasp too tight
don't sit on the couch

dingy tub water
steam from mealtime chokes your nose
horses parked in back

decomposition
from birth the body ages
life and death and bugs

need i mention again i was in college?

the last time

2009-03-21T12:05:00.003-05:00

this is a song i wrote some time back and i've hesitated to put it out there but.. well.. either i've matured to the point of saying "i am okay with it" or i've digressed to "i don't care what you think of it". haha. just kidding. maybe.

truth is, in my plight to become transparent i am putting it all out there. bear in mind i was not in the greatest place when i wrote this. i was hurting. i was confused. i was your typical messed up person who knew she was ready to walk away from the life she was leading and get it right with God, but hadn't quite taken that step yet. it was hard to loosen myself from the world's grip. turned out i didn't have to. i just had to call out to God and He pulled me out of it Himself. isn't He fabulous?

i wish i knew guitar well enough to write the music to it. the tune's in my head, i just don't know how to get it out. [stop delaying trace.. lyrics. now. do it...]

the last time

opposed to open myself up to closeness again
i hate to be the one to make you think
every word you say makes perfect nonsense to me
i'm laughing over the fool i am and

this is the last time i'll let you get away with me
this is the last time i'll cry myself awake
this is the last time i'm begging you to stay with me
this is the last time
cause tomorrow i'm over you

all the humble reasons why we won't do this again
living on the cusp of set in stone
pastel images turn graven in the mirror
alive never told me that and

this is the last time i'll let you get away with me
this is the last time i'll cry myself awake
this is the last time i'm begging you to stay with me
this is the last time
cause tomorrow i'm over you

cast your punishment out loud
don't tell me what to do
time is draining
i'm insane
and finally over you

this is the last time i'll let you get away with me
this is the last time i'll cry myself awake
this is the last time i'm begging you to stay with me
this is the last time i'll let you get away with me
this is the last time i'll cry myself awake
this is the last time i'm begging you to stay with me
this is the last time
cause tomorrow i'm over you
tomorrow i'm over you
tomorrow i'm over you

[hit send, now. do it. it's okay. they won't criticize. i hope]

esther's song

2009-03-06T21:42:00.000-06:00

          i am an orphan. i am a jew
          a girl of no consequence
          my life ongoing, but yet to begin

          silence
my heritage
my opinion
my role
          silence

          expectancy rises
          obedience calls from every side
          in whom do i trust?

          drowning
in sisters
perfume
in colors and song
          drowning
in effort
in purpose
in where i belong
          drowning
the process
the painting
the decadence
the throne

          it takes me over
          beauty becomes me
          look at me and i will gain your favor

myrrh
spicy
earthy

          it flows over me
          i am cradled in it
          it is my companion

rich
fragrant
poured over
anointed
a priestly consecration

          and the king summons
          what is a wife of only one man
          to a man with many wives?

a treasure
a jewel
a bride to be

          i’m adorned and chosen
          but they didn’t choose me
          only the girl they think they see

palace
family
throne
besieged
my husband
my people

          for such a time as this
          a position to barter
          beauty by design?
          i’m set in a song that isn’t mine

but i sing it
          i open my mouth and my heart and i sing it
i am a stroke of the brush
          it paints of truth and hope and love
it’s integrity
          and what is right and what is meant to be
          it is a story of a good and perfect will

          a song of the first
i will sing it
          my name is esther
          and i am second

the little lost ball

2007-11-06T16:14:00.000-06:00

i wrote this piece years ago, but was thinking about it again the other day when i was talking to a friend of mine who seems to be so worn out right now. like they were true to a ministry they felt they were called to, but then was left to figure the details out for themselves. like.. where's God to get me through?

and so.. here is my piece on 'the little lost ball'.

ever feel like a little ball left in the tall weeds? like God went out to play and left you there when He got called in for dinner? then He came out to get you later and couldn't remember where He'd left you and couldn't see you for all the weeds?

kind of sounds like a gary larson comic, doesn't it? but don't you ever feel like that?

many people are assured of their salvation - the formula's easy: you're a sinner, you ask to be forgiven, you're saved.

but ask your friends if they know what God's will for their life is. how many people will tell you that they know they are doing what God wants them to do? are you on the right track?

sometimes we can feel so lost even when God is so close. we just forget He's right beside us waiting for us to cling to Him and follow Him. we wander in circles looking for His outstretched hand without noticing it's on our shoulders all along.

why is that? is it because there's no formula for spiritual maturation? where in the Bible does it say X amount of prayer times Y amount of scripture will produce Z growth?

but the bible does tell us how we can test ourselves for spiritual maturity. look at james. the whole book is an assessment for us to recognize growth (or lack of) in our lives; are you joyful through trials? do you refrain from partiality? does your faith produce good works? this book isn't a recipe for maturation in the sense that we're provided quantities of each ingredient, mix well and serve. but we are given a road map to show us signs along the way that we're going in the right direction.

joy in the midst of trials doesn't make you grow - it's a sign that you are growing!

and that's what God asks of us.

who has known the mind of our Lord? there are many things in our very own lives we will never understand or even know. but God has placed them there to offer us opportunities to mature into a likeness of Him. we don't have to understand why things are the way they are to respond to them. and as our responses slowly begin to mirror those illustrated in james, we will know we are becoming the person God waits for us to be.

sometimes we are that little ball in the tall weeds. who's to say why. but God has not left us nor forgotten us. He's got a built in GPS and He knows right where we are. in fact, He may be using those weeds we think are hindering us from rolling out into the open, to protect us from our enemies.

trust God and walk on. er,... roll on.. !

strangers in heaven

2007-10-06T08:11:00.000-05:00

“I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Mahatma Gandhi

Christ. we call Him brother. we are even a joint heir with Him. and the Bible teaches that the Lord God of all is to be known by us as “Father”.

that’s family. adopted family, but family. the adoption is legal, binding and eternal.

and like any family (yes, even those bound by a seal on a document and not just those bound by blood and genetics) there are resemblances. if not physical, then certainly behavioral. temperament. ideals and humor. it’s learned and shared. you spend enough time with someone and you inevitably pick up on some habits or character traits. it’s why ‘best friends forever’ have private jokes and why spouses can finish each other’s sentences.

clusters of people have their own accents and styles, their own pace of life and sometimes even political leanings.

there’s probably even a scientific term for it or has been studied by psychology students. it’s just an accepted and understood practice. as we adopt into each others lives, we adopt each other’s ways of living.

it stands to reason then, wouldn’t it, that we would look like Christ to our world? that as we become part of the family of God, that we would begin to take on familial characteristics?

but i thought one day: what would the rest of our lives look like, if we didn’t? i’m not talking about this life, either. i’m talking about the eternity kind of rest of our lives.

if we failed to take off the old and put on the new, if we squelch spiritual seeds so that they never blossom into fruit, if we cling to the world and conform to it.. how much of that – no! how much of us – will remain in our empty grave after we have left it for the glory of our final home?

i’m just dreamin’ here. i don’t know what heaven will be like. but pretend with me for a moment that as a place with no pain, no fear, no heartache, and no sin.. in a place like that, where will there be room for all the things we are stocking up right now? like,.. pride. self-exaltation. oh, that whole laundry list of sinful desires! let’s say from death we get to heaven through a sieve, filtering out the gunk and allowing in only what is pure. how much of the me i’ve built will actually make it in?

or what if we do travel an upward path? but we’re so quiet about it, so private and tight-lipped that no one really knows the heart God is molding in you? if your entire spiritual experience is kept at bay and people know you in this life as a great person, but spiritually... blank. not good not bad. just.. not known. that heart inside you would make it through the sieve. but if no one ever saw it on earth, would they recognize it as yours in heaven?

would we wind up a stranger to our dear ones because we failed to become like Christ in this world, or simply neglected to display the work He’s doing in us?

this concept of strangers in heaven is disturbing, because i fear the truth of it. i fear that most unbelievers and maybe even fellow Christ-followers see what gandhi saw: a family that just didn’t act like it.

my adoption is eternal. i know where i’m going to spend the rest of my life. but i want more than eternal life insurance. i want to walk through that sieve and everyone to see me and know it’s me and call out my name just like they yell “Norm” in the Cheers bar whenever he walks in. because i lived a life that looks like Christ. such a life that everything about me that i’ve become is pure and will make it through. that nothing is undesirable, nothing is filtered, that i was open and honest and loving and giving and fruit-bearing and God-honoring, that people knew me as all those things, so when they see me enter those gates – i’m still all those things they knew me as before. and that the only thing different about me is that my body is now glorified. and maybe a little taller.

let it be said that “your christians are so like your Christ”. and that we will live on earth such that we won’t become strangers in heaven.

string of pearls

2007-09-03T00:39:00.001-05:00

i was talking to my friend who recently returned from a mission trip. we were discussing how you ‘pray up’ for events like that – prepare with prayer. it’s like, you know you can’t get through things like that without having your heart in the right place and things dealt with in your life and protection from the enemy. and so you pray.

as we were talking about it, i thought of those events as pearls. moments in your life where you feel like you’re under incredible pressure and do everything you can to be prayed up. and when you look back afterward you realize how precious a time that had been in your life and will most likely be an event you will treasure forever.

pearls.

we pray them up, knowing the consequences for not doing so.

but what about the times in between? on a pearl necklace we’d call it the string. here, we call it life.

and it dawned on me. why do we pray up the pearls but relax on all that stuff when it comes to our regular ole life? what about ‘just life’ makes prayer less important?

why do the pearls get all the prayers?

i know we experience a lot of spiritual warfare when we are on a mission trip – because we are doing the Work Of God, so of course - of course! we pray. but.. and i feel a little silly asking this.. shouldn’t our lives be about the work of God? and if so,.. why aren’t we praying up our lives?

i mean, afterall, if the string holds the pearls together, shouldn’t it be strong enough to do so? our lives need to be so prayed up that it can withstand an attack. our enemy knows where we are weakest and he’s gonna strike full force at those points.

when i was a kid, i was pretty tiny. i’m sure that surprises you. and back then participation in p.e. wasn’t a choice. so when the teacher had us play red rover i would tremble knowing i was obligated to play and that i was the weak link on whatever team was punished to have me. inevitably, the person called over would run full bore at me and whomever was grasping my arm so tightly they were giving me indian burns. even my teammates’ strength was no match for my small stature and our link would burst wide open from the crashing blow of our opposition. and i’d have to go back with them to the other side as their winnings. their kill.

satan does that. he finds the parts that aren’t prayed up and heads straight for them. and just because they’re being held by strong, solid pearls on each side, they still may be no match for the lack of prayer at the point that’s been targeted. strings are already thin. why weaken them with neglect?

it absolutely makes sense to pray up those times when we are taking a huge step of faith or on mission for God or ‘making ministry’. of course we need to do that! what i propose is that we recognize that is our life. that is the string. the pearls are the beautiful moments we can look back on and see God’s handiwork, the huge growth, the momentous occasions, but the string.. that’s the lifeline. the thing that holds it all together. and if it isn’t prayed up, those pearls are going to split apart, spill, scatter and get crushed under someone’s heel.

keep those pearls in tact and pray up your life! it’s all worth it. every last strand of it.

pray up and walk on.

stop drop and roll

2007-05-14T18:55:00.000-05:00

you remember those little lessons in elementary school, don't you? where the firemen come in wearing their yellow, rubber pants with suspenders and hard hats with a big number on the front (and for us california natives, they would usually be accompanied by a big guy in a bear suit who would point at the classroom full of kids and say in a deep, growling voice, "only you can prevent forest fires")...

they taught us not to play with matches. they taught us the word 'flammable'. they taught us that when you smell smoke, you stop, drop and roll. and for us excessively bright students, we would go home and lecture our own parents on fire safety. because, well, we were seven and we knew everything.

ok, but the point is that we are taught that fire is not something to take lightly. it's easily and carelessly started - a cigarette flung from the window of a car, a candle left burning unattended, matches in reach of children. but not quite so easily extinguished.

and the damage? oh! the damage! houses and precious family heirlooms charred beyond recognition, official documents consumed by the flame, and so many lives! folks have lost parents, siblings, children and very dear friends to that great beast we call fire.

fire.

it's a small word with huge consequences.

as is sin.

in fact these two beasts are very similar.

sin, too, is easily and carelessly started. all it takes is a little pride and a little less self control. and next thing you know, it begins to spread. and just like a fire, it damages and chars whatever is in its path. be it your home, your work, your loved ones,.. or yourself.

unfortunately, sin prevention isn't taught in schools. we aren't taught not to play with spiritual matches. we aren't taught what actions or words may be 'flammable'. and I've never heard smokey the bear say that "only i can prevent succumbing to temptations"!

but we can still take smokey's advice. we just have to listen with christian ears. we were taught to stop, drop and roll whenever we smell smoke. i think this sound advice is just as applicable when we smell sin.

when we find ourselves in sin,... stop! stop whatever we are doing, saying or thinking. just stop.

then,... drop! drop to our knees and pray. seek His strength, His wisdom and His guidance.

and then,... roll. roll to safety. in a fire, we roll away from the smoke. in the face of sin, turn and walk the other way.

smokey forgot about the last step, though: to keep on keeping on. stay away from the fire, but don't hide your light under a bushel!

stop. drop. roll.
and walk on.

the ultimate compliment

2007-04-30T23:07:00.000-05:00

it's after 11pm and i'm up (unusual) watching david letterman (really unusual). he's featuring a comedian who does impersonations. i just watched him mimic john travolta, nicholas cage, al pacino, ray romano, bill cosby, and a few others i'd already forgotten before the commercial break.

i thought it was kind of interesting that this man was applauded and given kudos for pretending to be someone else. who is he? dunno. but he plays a mean barbarino! he is making a name for himself by acting like someone whose made a name for themselves. hunh!

and i noticed he selected figures that had traits unique enough be recognizable when duplicated. just any joe wouldn't do. it had to be someone who would stand out above all the others.. there's a huge pool of famous people to choose from, but he wasn't up there doing tom hanks, sony bono, or donahue - even though they are just as well-known. he hand-selected people that were easily identifyable for one reason or another.

i don't even think the traits that distinguished them are easy traits to mirror. but they are so unique that even when the copy isn't perfect, it is still recognizable.

and haven't we always heard that imitation is the highest form of flattery? what better way to tell someone how much you value them than by trying to be like them? it's saying.. i like you so much that i wanna be like you!

these late night comedians might be onto something and probably don't even know it. i think we can learn a thing or two from them. in fact, why don't we try impersonating an impressionist?

there's a Famous One most worthy of being followed. His traits are unique - and recognizable without question. we can't be exactly like Him - not perfectly. but when we attempt to display His character to others, it is unmistakable who we are trying to imitate. and we can make a name for ourselves simply by acting like Him.

but i'd rather not make a name for myself, thankyouverymuch. i'd rather point to Him.. pay Him the ultimate compliment by modeling Him in my life.

i'm working on it already. and everyday, i take it on the road. and i hope the more i work at it, the more people will see it in me: my Jesus-impression.

my life is a dash

2007-04-30T22:01:00.000-05:00

anyone here entertain themselves by strolling through cemeteries, trying to solve the histories belonging to those buried beneath your feet? yikes! am i the only one?

actually, i don't. but, since we're on the subject - i wanted to consider the lovely sentiments we find carved into the headstones that capture the lives of the deceased. their entire venture on this earth; their laughs, their misfortunes, their pleasures, their pains, EVERYTHING between their first and last gasps of breath, grouped together in one simple gesture called the dash:

1947-1999

how insignificant a representation of all one’s trials, desires, worth,... how impersonal, how belittling!!, that a mere dash can say it all. and this same dash is used for everyone. the dates vary, the names change, but the dash stands there - a common symbol for all, stating that our travels, though diverse and uniquely intricate, really amount to no more than the guy's in the next plot.

this really bothered me. so, i decided to investigate. webster's dictionary says that a dash is

"n. a short, fast race" or "v. to complete, execute, or finish off hastily"

hellooo! i am a fleeting splash through the universe? get in, wipe your feet, get out, write soon! i don't think so.

so i have decided to take it upon myself to modify that silly tradition. i am requesting a hyphen on my tombstone (it's in my will, really!) sure, it looks the same, and many will confuse it with the dash and that's ok. because i will know! and think about it: you're browsing through the morning paper, your eyes reach the right-hand side of the column of type. do you stop? no, we read on, because the hyphen says, "hey folks, there's more to come! the line has stopped, but the idea continues... stay tuned." just because we will no longer walk this earth, does not mean our walk is over.

or perhaps i can use a minus sign. a minus prepares us to subtract one thing from another. or put another way: it makes a difference. picture it: a tombstone... the date of birth, the date of death, and in between... a life that made a difference. that's how i'd like to be remembered. “yea, i remember her. she made a difference.”

and, you know, it all looks the same written on that stone anyway. a dash is a hyphen is a minus. it's all how you choose to look at it.

so, what's it gonna be? want to sum up your life's events into a dash - a brief flash through a vast and timeless galaxy? or do you want to make a difference? and continue on to answer for that difference? because i'll tell you what, friends, we WILL continue on (even if you settle for the dash). and we WILL answer for the difference (or lack thereof, if that be the case).

besides, i think God sees that short, linear symbol as a scar. a remnant of our trials and tribs, marking us wounded, but ultimately triumphant.

sound good? walk on.

i forgot my words

2007-04-30T21:50:00.000-05:00

tonight during a creative meeting for the revolution service, i was reminded of a little inspirational piece i'd written a long time ago.. actually several things i'd written.. and had forgotten all about! isn't that amazing that you can do that? create something and then forget it exists?

we were planning a service on "leaving a legacy" and we were discussing leaving an impact and how people will remember you. one of things i mentioned was that we could have people write out their own epitaphs.. i know i know.. i'm so macabre!!

but it reminded me of a something i'd written about our tombstones with our dates of birth and death and a dash in between. meaning that our lives were essentially boiled down to a little line separating the beginning and the end,.. called "the dash". i went back and read it aloud and it sounds like it might be used in some way for that service.

now i'm going back and rereading my old stuff.. and i will be posting some of those writings in the next few days or weeks. i don't have very many and they aren't great, but the dash one i'm proud of.

it's the one my dad read and enjoyed so much that he asked my permission to share it with his congregation. he and i hadn't had the greatest of relationships. not that we were on outs with each other, but women in my family weren't necessarily appreciated for their intellect, creating a complex in me i've attempted to overcome all my life.

and so to have my dad value something of mine like that, words that were born in me, that i formed and painted on the page, truly touched me. i felt worth. i needed that so much from him at that time in my life.

my next post will be that piece. and i dedicate it to my dad.