move

here’s an adaptation of a statement that wyclef jean made in a recent interview. “justice is not accomplished through charity. it’s accomplished through movement. the world doesn’t need our charity. it needs our movement. it needs us to physically do something.”

and here are a few excerpts from the spring 0’two issue of colors magazine.

“ninety percent of all domestic workers worldwide are aged between twelve and seventeen.”

“fifty-two percent of u.s. fifteen-year-olds say it is difficult or very difficult to talk with their fathers.”

“the average age of a homeless person in the u.s. is nine years old.”

“six thousand girls aged between four and twelve undergo genital mutilation every day.”

“one million kids carry handguns to school each year in the u.s.a.”

“more than three hundred thousand children are involved in armed conflict in forty-one countries worldwide.”

“thirty-three percent of primary school-aged children in jakarta, indonesia, believe life is not worth living.”

“eighty percent of hiv-positive children under the age of fifteen live in africa.”

“at least eight-hundred seventy-five million adults are illiterate, two-thirds of them women.”

the world needs our movement. so, don’t just sit there. there is a need. and now that you know, you must choose your course of action. someone else will not take your place. they will take their own place while your’s remains vacant. it’s time to respond. it’s time to move.

one word

during my weekly sunday visit to the coffee shop of my choice, i noticed a word etched into the paper towel dispenser in the men’s bathroom. the word was “forgive.” and i started to think about the power of that one word. it’s stuck with me ever since.

i wondered what it would be like to place a word on the door of my dwelling place. one word. a word that i would see as i enter. and a word that i would see as i exit. the same word. but what would that word be? i like “forgive” because i need the reminder to do that – not only with myself and my children, but with others that i encounter throughout my day. and yet there are so many other words that have power. love. freedom. acceptance. goodness.

what is that one word?

spiritual molting

i’m starting to realize that i’m not satisfied. i’m not satisfied with who i am. i’m not satisfied with who i’ve become. i’m not satisfied with life. and i’m not satisfied with my faith. there is all of this stuff within me that just gets in the way. and yet there is something within me that is wanting to get out. it’s wanting to be set free. it’s wanting to be birthed anew.

i think my soul needs a good molting. i need to shed the old for something brand new. i need to rid myself of those areas of my life that are dead (or should be dead). i need to discard the unhealthy so that i can become healthy again. and i need to lose the skin that is keeping me from the growth that god has for me.

but i’m not sure how this works. what does it look like? what does it feel like? and how can i become content with the process. for i’m sure that once i shed that which is holding me back, the process will most likely start all over again.

there is something
within me
that is new
and fresh
but can’t be revealed
until that
which is dead –
which holds me,
robs me
restricts me –
is cast off
and left behind.

sharing wishes

the following are excerpts from the winter 0’five/0’six issue of colors magazine.

“i wish i had a machine that could make money.”
qing yan, twenty
prostitute, panyu, china

“i wish to be found.”
irwin cruz, thirty
journalist, madrid, spain

“papa beats me when i do something wrong. i wish he were more kind.”
jubel tamang, five
student, kathmandu, nepal

“if i could have both my hands back, i would be satisfied with that. my hands were chopped off at the very start of the war. i was the very first casualty of the war. after my hands were chopped off, i was sent back to freetown to give the message to the government.”
tamba ngaujah, forty-four
ex-soldier, freetown, sierra leone

“i wish that during our adult life we all had to experience one year minimum as a member of the opposite sex.”
ania jones, thirty-seven
office administrator, warsaw, poland

“i wish that major pharmaceutical groups were non-profit organizations.”
anne toulmonde, twenty-four
communication assistant, paris, france

“i live in a land of contrasts, where more than fifty percent of the population lives on less than u.s. one dollar a day, in a country that has the biggest market for mercedes benz cars. i wish for equality and compassion. equality in which people are more important than tribes, races and religion. compassion through which all people, regardless of differences, care about others and work toward improving the life of all.”
david hiscox, forty-four
managing director, nairobi, kenya

“i want to have sex with at least two girls from every tribe in uganda. so far i have covered about fifty-eight percent of them. after that i will consider myself a hero.”
chapman mutego, twenty-nine
male sex worker, busoga jinja, uganda

“i wish to take on another man’s color.”
alexandre calaque, thirty-two
poet, ile d’oleron, france
died in a car accident, november ‘05

“my wish isn’t so altruistic. i wish for a cure for aids so i wouldn’t already have three strikes against me when i’m dating.”
davide, thirty-nine
college professor, rome, italy
hiv positive for fourteen years

at first glance, one might see many differences between the types of people represented by these wishes. and isn’t it interesting how we tend to identify with those who speak words we agree with and then distance ourselves from those who speak words that we don’t. but it’s not really about the wishes. it’s about what these individuals believe that the wishes will bring – value, attention, love, wholeness, understanding, selflessness, justice, accomplishment, experience, and acceptance. and in that case, i can relate to all of these folks. the methods of achievement may be different, but the desires are the same.

i’m learning that judgment lives on the surface, while compassion lives in the depths. and that makes me want to go deeper with others. i want to plunge into the lives of those i encounter. to see past their wishes and to recognize their desires. and i want to plunge into my own life as well – to stop being so hard on myself. and to discover the real desires that are hiding beneath the surface.

beat down

there is this game or activity or whatever you may want to call it that i play with my daughters on my bed. or perhaps i should call it our “ring.” they request it often. it’s called a beat down.

the game basically consists of the girls standing on the bed, making intimidating movements and maneuvers, and shouting things like “tai kwan do” with conviction. their eyes are squinted and focused and they are ready to do battle. now, they know the whole time that when they attack, i will basically body slam them back onto the bed. but on occasion, they are able to elude my polished skills and tackle me (both of them working together). they pull me onto the bed and do whatever they can to keep me there. i let them have their satisfaction, and will play along for a bit, but when i’m ready to escape, all i need to do is tickle them. actually, i tickle the very life out of them. their laughter is uncontrollable. it’s spontaneous. it’s glorious. and i always win (at least from my perspective). they know i will win. which is a bit odd to me, because they hate to lose at most everything they pursue. but with this game, they don’t mind.

i wish that i could approach life this way. you know, staring it down with focus, knowing the whole time that i will most likely fail. and yet enjoying the experience. enjoying the body slams. enjoying the laughter. enjoying it all.

subtraction

i’ve recently realized that all of the effort i’ve been putting in to grow and evolve and change has been a huge waste of my time. i’ve been trying to “become” the person that i think i’m supposed to be. but it’s clear to me now, that i’ve been heading in the wrong direction. and i now realize that i need to turn around to discover who i was created to “be” thirty-four years ago instead - without all of the things that i've added. you see, i’ve added things to my life – unnecessary things – and they are blocking my ability to see who i really am.

i’ve always thought that we go through life – with all of it’s joys and pains and trials and successes and experiences – so that we can be shaped into who god really wants us to become. but the more i think about it, the more i’m convinced that i’ve been wrong. dead wrong.

life’s experiences were never meant to shape us into the men and women that god wanted us to become. he already created us just as he wanted us to be. no, life’s experiences were meant to help us realize who we really are.

so, what is my purpose in life? to be the person that god created me to be. it’s not about using all of the things that i’ve acquired. talents i’ve learned. knowledge i’ve added. formulas i’ve developed. it’s not about me making myself better. why? because god has already given me the tools that i need to live a purposeful life. and he’ll reveal them in his own timing. all i need to do is to use what he has given me. and that encourages me. in fact, it makes life seem a bit easier. less pressure and lower expectations.

we are creatures with a natural bent towards our creator. we don’t need to blaze a trail. we don’t need to leave a legacy. we don’t really need to do anything. we can just “be.” and in that “being,” god will transform us. not into something different, but back into the person that he originally created.

as i write this, i’m reminded of one of jesus’ teachings, when he talked about entering the kingdom of heaven. he said that unless we become like the children that surrounded him, it would be really, really hard to enter the kingdom.

why?

because they were thinking and feeling and acting just as god had created them to be. they hadn’t had the opportunity to add all kinds of meaningless things to their lives – emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and physical habits – that had become distractions. they were willing to listen. they were willing to submit. they were willing to admit that they couldn’t do it on their own. they were raw. and they were pure. they were following the cues of their souls. and they were exactly as their creator had made them. exactly as their creator had intended.

i’m tired of having to push things out of the way to get to my soul. and i hope that i can begin the process of subtraction – of eliminating those things that tend to block my way.

falling

a close friend invited me to attend a play yesterday and i think it may have been the highlight of my entire year. it was amazing and i’m still working through its impact on my thoughts, actions, feelings – its impact on my life. the production was entitled “the night thoreau spent in jail” and it highlighted not only this particular night, but also his life and his relationship with his mentor, ralph waldo emerson. if webster’s were to define “out of the box,” they may do so by placing henry david thoreau’s photo next to the description. this man was incredible.

several statements from the production have become top of mind for me, but there is one that i’ve been working through over the past sixteen hours or so.

after a few interactions, henry and his brother john have both become intrigued and interested in a woman named ellen. and as henry discusses his brother’s love for ellen – with ellen – it is apparent that she has not been impressed. she was not impressed with john’s presentation, or more specifically, with his words (or lack thereof). in fact, at one point, she says that he hardly spoke. and that’s when henry responded. with both passion and compassion in his voice, he said, “you missed the eloquence of his silence.”

and at that very moment, my soul fell silent.

the play continued.

but i just sat there.

silent.

what am i missing?

and in my striving so hard not to miss things, am i missing everything?

(pause.)

has there been too much noise in my life?

in my soul?

(long pause.)

no more.

no more work. no more effort.

my soul knows.

my soul knows what it needs. it knows what it wants. it knows how to act.

why don’t i let it?

(pause.)

there is something so pure and sound and whole in the silence.

(pause.)

may my soul – today – fall silent again.

questions today

“to understand is hard.
once one understand,
action is easy.”
sun yet-sen, chinese politician

do i understand my faith?
and is my faith active?

webster’s dictionary defines “understand” this way:
a: to grasp the meaning of
b: to grasp the reasonableness of
c: to have thorough or technical acquaintance with or expertness in the practice of
d: to be thoroughly familiar with the character and propensities of

to understand takes time. and diligence. and effort. and i don’t know that i put enough energy into truly understanding all that faith is. all that faith encompasses. all that faith has to offer. and yet, i don’t think it’s so much about the energy that i put in (or the work). rather, it’s the willingness to sit still enough to let god reveal the understanding that i seek – effortless on my part and in his perfect timing – when he knows that i’m ready.

i often think that man lives a backwards life. (i live a backwards life.) we tend to do the opposite of what was intended. we get confused and distracted and don’t always recognize what we are doing or why we are doing it. and we live in bondage more often than we live in freedom. for example, we tend to be moving way too much. in fact, we move and move and move until we are so exhausted that we need to rest. we need to sit still in order to recover. but what if we actually sat still before we began to move? what if in our stillness, we were actually preparing to move with purpose? what if we shifted things around a bit?

i do agree with sun yet-sen. action will follow understanding. and it will be easier because you will know why you are doing what you do. your actions will have purpose. but i think there is a step or two before one can fully understand. and if i were to rewrite his words, i think i would write them something like this...

“to sit still is hard.
once one sit, one can listen.
once one listen, one will understand.
and once one understand,
one will act.
the action will have purpose.
and the action will be easy.”
sun yet-sen and kris e. lindquist

so again i ask,
do i understand my faith?
and is my faith active?
but perhaps those are the wrong questions.

perhaps i should be asking,
am i willing to sit still?
and am i willing to listen?

my bent

"in its essential soundness,
the soul knows
no effort toward god;
the love of god
is the quietly predominant
bent of our nature.”

© rainer maria rilke

untitled

you invited me
to join the circus
today.
i smiled.
and i imagined
my life
as a clown –
tripping over
my oversized shoes –
and enjoying
the fall.

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

a leader without a home

i passed by a homeless man yesterday and the sign he held in his hands caught my attention. it said, “homeless. running for president. he has the job i want.”

and immediately i began to think about the idea of such a person running our country. what a refreshing thought. a man who probably had a better idea of community than most of us. a man who would be more concerned about caring and providing for others rather than pleasing them. a man who could identify with the urgency of life’s needs – understanding the differences between necessity and desire. a man who had set aside his pride (days, weeks, months, or years ago) to stand on a busy street corner and ask for help. a man full of life experiences.

refreshing.

and what a great example for the rest of us. i viewed him as a leader that we could all admire and look up to.

then i thought about another leader i’ve heard of. one who walked and talked and healed and listened and cared for and nurtured and taught and loved all those he encountered. and i remembered that he was also without a home.

floating

there’s this thought that floats within my head
that life will get easier one day
at least that’s what i say and pray
but test and trial come instead.

whole

a few friends and i went to see the movie “transamerica” a little over a week ago, and i am still processing all that i took in. here is a synopsis of the movie.

“bree is a perfectly adjusted conservative transsexual woman. born stanley, a genetic male, she’s about to take the final step to becoming the woman stanley always wanted to be – until she finds out that she is the parent of a long-lost seventeen year-old son, toby. toby is a drug-addled hustler living on the streets of new york city, dreaming of meeting the father he never knew. afraid to tell the rebellious teenager the truth, bree embarks on a journey with him that will challenge and change both their lives and bring them closer to the truth of their connection.”

needless to say that the movie was deep – filled with a variety of scenarios and situations that i can’t even imagine having to deal with. and i found myself walking away with a variety of thoughts, questions, and emotions.

in just two hours, i had been exposed to the following.

a man living his life as a woman
a man preparing to become a woman (surgically)
a man struggling to find happiness
a man dealing with the surprise of being a parent
a man rejected by his family for choices he had made
a man trying to hide the truth
a man ashamed of himself
a man looking for acceptance
a man trying to do the right thing as a father

a boy living his life as a hustler (prostitute)
a boy trying to escape reality by using drugs
a boy using sex as a means of finding value
a boy looking for acceptance
a boy seeking a father
a boy struggling with right versus wrong
a boy searching for happiness
a boy desiring more

so, here were some of my initial thoughts. why would stanley want to change his genetic makeup? why would toby sell his body and allow himself to be used by others? what experiences had each of these guys gone through or been exposed to (over the course of their lives) that had led them to the present? why couldn’t stanley and toby find worth in who they already were and who they were created to be? their choices seemed so drastic. what were they doing? they seemed so different than me. or were they?

you see, stanley and toby were broken. and they were looking for ways to fill those broken areas of their lives. and guess what? i do the exact same thing. aren’t we all broken? and aren’t we all guilty of wanting to change who we really are, because we aren’t happy? we think that we are capable of fixing the problem, but we’re not. we get confused and seem to focus on changing the wrong things. the solution is not to change who we are. the solution is to recognize and change who we are not. we need to embrace who we are and then eliminate those things that have found their way into our lives and corrupted us into becoming men and women that we were never intended to be. we need to get back to living the lives that we were created for.

we struggle with this because we are all broken. we’ve all been broken. and we will all be broken in the future. why? because we live in a broken world. what we really want is to feel whole. that’s what stanley wanted. that’s what toby wanted. they wanted to feel whole. stanley thought that life as a woman would make him feel whole. toby thought that love would make him feel whole. but changing who we are will not make us feel whole. it will simply make us feel like someone else who is still broken.

so, what do we do? what do i do? well, i think it starts with acceptance – accepting who we are, right now. we are broken. we are hurting. we are confused. we are wanting. we are seeking. and then we need to be willing to admit that we can’t fix those things on our own. we aren’t capable. we get too distracted. we spend too much time looking at others (and what they have), instead of looking within and identifying what it is that we really need. the good news is that our creator knows what we need. and if we let him, he can “fix” us. he can “fill” us. he can make us feel whole. and he does this by showing us how to love ourselves for who we really are.

i want to feel whole. but it goes beyond me. i want the stanleys and tobys of this world to feel whole too.

perspective

my life is a lot like a splotch.
some days it looks like a stain
and others,
an amazing work of art.

the way

faith seems much more
like an unfinished piece of art
than a slick and pretty picture –
with many bits
and pieces of truth
being added (one by one)
along the way.

journey

my journey is not from left to right
from north to south
rather, it’s from inward to outward.

dying to live

another poem by walt whitman caught my attention last night. and the message was pretty clear. parts of me need to die in order to fully live. parts of me have died, but parts of me still need to pass on – without lament.

o living always – always dying

o living always—always dying!
o the burials of me, past and present!
o me, while i stride ahead,
material, visible, imperious as ever!
o me, what i was for years, now dead,
(i lament not – i am content;)
o to disengage myself
from those corpses of me,
which i turn and look at,
where i cast them!
to pass on, (o living! always living!)
and leave the corpses behind!

© walt whitman

integrity

a friend challenged a group of us over the weekend to spend some time thinking about the existence of integrity in our lives. and to think about whether or not we are actually pursuing integrity. according to webster’s dictionary, integrity is the idea of being incorruptible, sound, and complete (or undivided). i like that idea and i like the idea of being that kind of person, but i can hear a voice in my head saying, “you? good luck. you’re a broken-down, mess of a man who fails all of the time. do you really think...”

okay, so is it even possible?

i want to be a man of integrity, but by definition, it seems unattainable and something that perhaps, can only be pursued. in fact, i think it would be highly arrogant of me to think that i could ever be incorruptible. i think it would be foolish of me to think that i will always remain sound. and to think that i could ever be complete is unfathomable. and so my immediate reaction is that i can’t be that which i want to be – game over, let the sulking begin. and yet i know people who i consider to be living lives of integrity. so how does this all work?

here are a few thoughts.

integrity is not perfection. integrity is not the “little picture.” and integrity does not focus on short-comings. no one is incorruptible, sound, or undivided (regardless of appearances.) we are all human and we all make mistakes. but we can’t dwell on those mistakes and forget the good that surrounds them. we need to evaluate integrity in the larger picture of a person’s life – where we step back and look at chunks of time rather than slivers. where we look at track records instead of individual races. where we look at seasons instead of moments. i do that (or at least i try to do that). it may be inconsistent from person to person, but i’m working on it. here is a scary reality though. i find it a lot easier to evaluate others within this context of flexibility than i do myself. i can say “i do that” with others, but do i do it with myself? not often. for some reason, i hold myself to a higher (almost unattainable) standard, with unimaginable expectations. why do i do that? i expect so much from myself and often find that i’m living under this shadow of darkness – keeping me from the life of integrity that god desires for me.

there needs to be grace.

this friend went on to talk about how large a role “shame” plays in keeping us from a life of integrity. we want to look good on the outside and yet we are falling apart on the inside. our inner selves and outer selves are divided. and we are ashamed of revealing the truth – of letting people see our reality. the shame that we feel (and hold onto) overpowers the grace that god has for us. lauryn hill (on one of her albums) talks about the differences between fantasy and reality. and the reality is that we all have issues. we all have things in our lives that we are ashamed of. she says that we are all in the same boat, dealing with the same stuff. and yet we continue to put on a show because we are afraid to admit to others that we don’t have it all together. we are afraid to admit the truth and through grace, find comfort in that truth. why? because we have accepted a lie. we have accepted the idea that there are some people who do have it all together. and that’s just not true. no one has it all together. they have simply found a way to mask their pain, their brokenness, and their shame.

it’s time to lose the shame in your game. or is it lose the game in your shame?

it’s a bit odd to me because as i tried to identify those areas of my life that i was ashamed of, i couldn’t. that’s not to say that there aren’t things in my life that shouldn’t be there or that discourage me (or perhaps that i’m not admitting), but for the most part, i can’t really find anything that i’m ashamed of. wait, that’s not true. there are things that i’m ashamed of, but i’m not ashamed of who i am. i am who i am. and i’m okay with that – broken and all. and i think that there is a great deal of integrity in that. one of webster’s definitions for corrupt is “to alter from the original or correct form or version.” interesting, don’t you think? by acknowledging the true me, i am actually being the opposite of corrupt. and i find soundness and unity in that. that would make me a man of integrity. that would make me the kind of man that i didn’t think i could become. that would mean that integrity is attainable.

one final thought. i think we are all concerned about how others perceive us – the real us, the inner us. so we try to fix all of our imperfections. we fail, we fall short, and we often screw the whole thing up. and our immediate reaction is to get out the tools and patch the cracks. we think that we should fix them in order to look more appealing. but what if the cracks are simply a way of letting the inner integrity in all of us spill out? what if it’s actually the mistakes and failures that reveal integrity (rather than the lack of them)? now there’s a thonder.

joyous leaves

i was reading a book of walt whitman poems yesterday and came across the following. it reminds me that we were created to be in relationship with others. however, it also reminded me that our creator can do miraculous things (in us and through us) while we are adventuring alone. for, in fact, we are not alone. (i’m grateful for reminders.)

i saw in louisiana a live-oak growing

i saw in louisiana
a live-oak growing,
all alone stood it
and the moss hung down
from the branches,

without any companion
it grew there
uttering joyous leaves of dark green,
and its look, rude, unbending, lusty,
made me think of myself,

but i wonder’d how it could
utter joyous leaves
standing alone there
without its friend near,
for i knew i could not,

and i broke off a twig
with a certain number of
leaves upon it,
and twined around it a little moss,
and brought it away,

and i have placed it in sight in my room,
it is not needed to remind me
as of my own dear friends,
(for i believe lately i think of little else
than of them,)

yet it remains to me a curious token,
it makes me think of manly love;
for all that, and though the live-oak
glistens there in louisiana
solitary in a wide flat space,

uttering joyous leaves all its life
without a friend a lover near,
i know very well i could not.

© walt whitman

i am there

do you need me?
i am there.

you cannot see me, yet i am the light you see by.
you cannot hear me, yet i speak through your voice.
you cannot feel me, yet i am the power at work in your hands.

i am at work, though you do not understand my ways.
i am at work, though you do not understand my works.
i am not strange visions. i am not mysteries.

only in absolute stillness, beyond self, can you know me
as i am, and then but as a feeling and a faith.

yet i am there. yet i hear. yet i answer.
when you need me, i am there.
even if you deny me, i am there.
even when you feel most alone, i am there.
even in your fears, i am there.
even in your pain, i am there.

i am there when you pray and when you do not pray.
i am in you, and you are in me.
only in your mind can you feel separate from me,
for only in your mind are the mists of “yours” and “mine.”
yet only with your mind can you know me and experience me.

empty your heart of empty fears.
when you get yourself out of the way, i am there.
you can of yourself do nothing, but i can do all.
and i am in all.

though you may not see the good, good is there,
for i am there. i am there because i have to be, because i am.

only in me does the world have meaning;
only out of me does the world take form;
only because of me does the world go forward.
i am the law on which the movement of the stars
and the growth of living cells are founded.

i am the love that is the law’s fulfilling.
i am assurance.
i am peace.
i am oneness.
i am the law that you can live by.
i am the love that you can cling to.
i am your assurance.
i am your peace.
i am one with you.
i am.

though you fail to find me, i do not fail you.
though your faith in me is unsure,
my faith in you never wavers,
because i know you, because i love you.

beloved, i am there.

© 1947 james dillet freeman

apprentice

i’m starting to realize that i’m simply an apprentice in this thing called life. for some reason, i’ve thought that life was a lot like a college degree – where i study and experience and then go out into the world to use and apply all that i’ve learned. you know, like an equation – you figure out what works and implement it for successful results.

ha. ha, ha. ha, ha, ha. (can you hear me laughing?)

why do i think that i should have life figured out yet? and what makes me think that i will ever have it figured out? i’m just now starting to realize that i may always be an apprentice – continually learning from my master. and what’s interesting to me, is that there is actually a bit of relief in that revelation.

taking a step back to get a closer look

i spent some time with a friend yesterday who made the following statement while discussing spirituality. he said, “sometimes i find myself needing to take a step back in order to get a closer look.” and in the context of our conversation, it made complete sense to me. in another context, it may have seemed like an oxymoron. but at that time and at that place, it didn’t. it just made sense. and over the past twenty-four hours or so, i’ve been thinking a lot more about the idea of oxymorons in my life. or perhaps the notion that things don’t always need to make sense.

why have i convinced myself that everything needs to make sense in my life? why can’t i be more open to looking at life in ways that don’t (make sense)? why do i limit my point of view based on background, upbringing, teaching, beliefs, etcetera? perhaps it’s because my mind, heart, and spirit keep looking at things through the same filter. don’t misunderstand me. i’m not saying that filters are bad. in fact, i think that filters can by good and healthy. but often, i see myself (and others) creating filters that are fixed. they are closed instead of open. and the idea of change is out of the question. we tend to interpret life from one point of view – the same point of view – over and over and over again. and when you look at things from only one point of view, you tend to think that your view is the right view as well as the only view. a bit scary.

i want to do a better job of considering things that don’t make sense to me. i want to do more digging. i want to probe and question more. i want to test and experiment more. i want to stop filling in the blanks of my life (and others) with answers simply because they make sense. (in most cases, they’re not the right answers anyway.) i want to be okay with things that don’t make sense. i want to be an oxymoron. (i think.)

so, what will that require?

it will require me to think bigger in order to think smaller. it will require me to get the overview before i can craft the summary. it will require me to go to the back of the line so that everything is now in front of me. and it will require me to step back in order to get closer.

can we cross now?

i received an email the other day that contained several letters that children had written to god. one of these caught my attention. “you don’t have to worry about me. i always look both ways.” dean

i often think that i have things under control. actually, that isn’t really true. i often think the opposite – that i never have things under control. my life seems routine, but chaotic and random and rarely on course. it’s just that i want to think that i have things under control.

as i parent, i know what it’s like to worry about my children. and to be honest, i really do want god to worry about me. why? because i want the attention from the one i seek to know in deeper ways. i’m tired of acting like i have it all together and that i can make it on my own – because i can’t. i’ve been broken too many times to know that i just can’t do it. i’m still broken in many areas of my life and i need help healing, moving, discerning, etcetera.

now, i do look both ways, but perhaps i’m so anxious to get to the other side of wherever, that often i see only what i want to see. however, god can see those things approaching that i miss. and he is able to grab me before i take that fatal step. and yet i don’t think he ever does grab me. in fact, i don’t think he ever keeps me from moving. he may warn me through an inner voice, the voice or action of a friend, or some kind of natural (or unnatural) phenomenon, but he never forces me to do (or not to do) anything.

it’s interesting, because i feel like i spend most of my time on the curb. no, i think i spend most of my time moving from one side to the other. and yet when i finally do make it across, i often find myself on a median, with another crossing in front of me. (my life is a life of medians.) it’s frustrating and i find that while my body is moving, my mind is worrying about being run over. i’m questioning my decisions all of the time – when what i really want is just to get to the other side and find a bit of happiness and joy.

so, i think that when i reach the other side, i’ll find happiness and joy, right? but i rarely make it to the other side. and i sit here, at a crossroads (or on the median), asking myself these questions. can’t there be joy in the crossing? can’t there be joy in the waiting on the curb? can’t i just grab the hand of my father and let him lead me when it’s safe?

i really want to take my father’s hand, and i try, but it doesn’t seem that easy. i don’t always feel his grasp and i wonder if he is really there or not. and why wouldn’t he be there? does he want me to try this thing by myself? did i forget to tell him where i was planning on going? and doing? did i not tell him on purpose? well, i’m telling him now.

god, i need to be led. i need you to worry about me. i need to know that you’re thinking about me. that you care about me. and i need help trusting that you know better than i do.

can we cross now?

a good reminder from africa

i stumbled across an african proverb last week that intrigued me. not only the proverb itself, but the explanation of its background as well. it’s a good reminder for me to really listen and discern – listening to the words, but also paying close attention to the motives, of the person speaking. it’s also a good reminder for me to surround myself with people who truly care about me and have my best interests at heart. perhaps god can/will use these individuals to be the voice (or at least confirm the voice) that i have been seeking. here is what i found.

tuareg proverb
ta n-ameri salah, ta n-amiksan sadsa.

english translation
the (word) of a friend makes you cry; the (word) of an enemy makes you laugh.

background, explanation and everyday use
the tuaregs are a nomadic people of the central and western sahara and along the middle niger from tombouctou to nigeria. interpersonal relationships are very close and tight in the tuareg society.

advice given by someone who has your best interests at heart is sometimes unpleasant and even painful, but the person who seeks your downfall may deliberately encourage you toward hidden danger with advice that seems pleasant and good. this tuareg proverb is used in two ways: either as an encouragement to take harsh advice from a friend in the spirit it is intended, or as a warning not to follow the deceptively attractive advice of someone who doesn't have our interests at heart.

biblical parallels
proverbs 27:6: “well meant are the wounds a friend inflicts, but profuse are the kisses of an enemy.”

contemporary use and religious application
for the tuaregs and indeed for all people everywhere, there is a great need for discernment regarding the company we keep and the advice we take.

voices

i don’t like struggles. who does? but i was reminded last night that struggles have the ability form and shape us. both the struggle itself and the way in which we respond. but can i be honest here? i’m tired. and i’m guessing that i’m not alone in my thinking. struggles suck. i struggle as a father. i struggle as a son. i struggle with sin. i struggle in relationships. i struggle at work. i struggle all of the time.

and although the struggle is often without (meaning external), i’m finding that the struggle is constant within. there are voices in my head that constantly chatter. they say so many different things. they remind me of the past. they tell me that they can interpret the present. and they try to predict the future. there is the good voice and the bad voice. the right voice and the wrong voice. the shouting voice and the whispering voice. the encouraging voice and the accusing voice. lots and lots of voices. and this is the struggle that i dislike the most.

sometimes i just want silence. or peace. or rest. and yet i don’t always do well in those settings. why? because it’s not familiar. as much as i dislike the chatter, i’ve gotten used to it. (it may not be healthy, but it’s familiar.)

part of me wishes that there was a short period in my life where struggle failed to exist. and instead, there would be nothing but blessings. good things that would bring joy and freedom and life. a time where tensions would vanish. where disagreements would go on their fifteen minute break. where sibling rivalry would take a vacation. where temptation would bury it’s head in the sand. growth doesn’t only occur in the midst of struggle, right? i have to believe that we can be formed and shaped by good experiences too. and yet i know that struggle has its place. at least that’s what one voice is telling me.

the trick here may be to figure out which voice to actually listen to. (much easier said than done.) in a perfect world, we would be able to find the voice of truth because the others would fail to exist. but because of experiences, failures, wounds, etcetera, we have been confused. we have been turned into unbelieving creatures who want proof and usually question until we find it. we’ve been lied to. distracted. cheated. abused. taken advantage of. used. and often, it becomes very difficult to focus on the one voice that desires to speak truth into our lives. we don’t know which voice to believe anymore.

i want to find the voice that speaks truth to me. the one that says good things about me. the one that encourages me. and although i may need to search a bit, i have this odd feeling that when i find it, it will sound very familiar. i don’t know that i’ll be able to explain it, but somehow, i will recognize it. and it will all have been worth the struggle – the struggle that is effectively forming and shaping me into the man that god desires for me to be. and with that goal in mind, i will struggle along.

there is a japanese proverb that says “fall seven times, stand up eight.” and although is seems easier sometimes to just stay on the ground, i will always get back up. i have to. i need to. i want to. and there’s a voice telling me that i’ll be better for it.

painfully inflamed

i’ve been getting angry lately. angry at life. angry at the enemy. and angry at god. (i think.) life is seeming more and more like a requirement to me instead of privilege. i feel like i am required to be here and for the most part, am not really enjoying myself. (perhaps this is just a season, but that season keeps returning.) there is dysfunction. there is chaos. there is oppression. there is struggle. and i’m not talking about what i’ve been seeing in the world, i’m talking about what i’ve been seeing in myself. i’ve been telling myself (and others) lately that god want so much more – and that we aren’t really living the life that god intended. and i strongly believe that. but that statement does very little beyond its attempt to inspire an attitude adjustment.

one of the definitions that webster’s dictionary gives for the word “angry” is “painfully inflamed.” interesting definition, isn’t it? interesting to me anyway, because that’s exactly how i feel. i feel pain all over. physical. emotional. spiritual. intellectual. maybe the word “sore” is more accurate. i feel sore. or maybe uncomfortable. but that lack of comfort usually leads to irritation and ultimately pain. (do you like how i took you full circle there?) there is always something that seems to be under attack and i’m finding it really hard to sustain any kind of joy or happiness. sure there are moments (of happiness) and i am always appreciative of those moments. moments by myself. moments with my kids. moments with friends. but why do those moments seem so brief and often overshadowed by moments of sadness? and i’m not sure that “sadness” really encompasses all that i’m talking about. loneliness. despair. depression. hopelessness. brokenness. failure. embarrassment. timidness. etcetera. i just don’t get it. if god intends for us (his followers) to let our light shine and if light is supposed to overpower the darkness, why does it feel so dark most of the time?

whose fault is it? is it god’s fault for not giving me the joy that i seek? is it the enemy’s fault for successfully distracting me from what’s really important? is it my fault for carrying around so much baggage and overanalyzing everything? and how does all of this work in a fallen world?

one of the things that i’ve really started to understand over the past couple of months is this whole idea of recognizing truth. seriously, it’s really got me jazzed. i think it’s important to distinguish between truth and lies, reality and fantasy, and the ability to focus instead of being distracted. however, this also has me a bit freaked out. i need help distinguishing. i’m not always very good at it. as a follower of jesus, i’ve been promised the holy spirit who will help me navigate some of these things (or all of these things) but i don’t always feel that spirit. and maybe that’s the big question in all of this. what in the world am i supposed to do when i can’t feel this spirit (or god) directing me. i know he’s there. i believe it. but i can’t always feel him.

here’s another question. how am i supposed to feel joy when i can’t feel god? how am i supposed to feel happiness in the midst of struggle? this can’t be what god intended. in fact, in the garden, he used to walk and talk with adam and eve. and even after sin found its way into the world, he walked and talked with others. there was abraham. there was elijah. there were other prophets. then jesus came to earth and walked and talked. walking with individuals. walking with crowds. walking with multitudes. and after jesus left, he promised to leave his spirit to walk and talk with us. so there is a history of god coming in the form of himself, jesus, and the holy spirit, and walking and talking with people. why not me? or why doesn’t it feel that way?

i want to feel him. i want to feel “full.” i want to feel “whole.” and i don’t.

so i’m asking myself, “do i have the right to feel angry?” and “who am i supposed to be angry with?”

i’m not really looking for your answer here. instead, i’m hoping that god will answer. (and hopefully i will have the patience to wait for his reply.)

seven things that i want

i want to be happy
i want to be loved
i want to be pursued
i want to learn
i want to journey with others
i want to be in community
i want to grow

breathe

if i was created
as a unique,
one-of-a-kind
individual
with special gifts
and purpose,
why does it feel
like i am
often wearing
a costume?

what am i
ashamed of;
afraid of?

at times,
i wish
that i could
escape
through a
trap door
and find
solace and peace
in an isolated
place.

why am i
gasping;
suffocating?

i need you
to remind me –
breathe life
into me –
so that i can shed
all that i am not
and live
as you
created me
to be.

inspired by a friend
© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

lifted

i felt the
warmth
of the sun
on my face
today.
i turned
towards
the window
and closed
my eyes.
the light
penetrated
the darkness
within and
my spirit
felt lifted.

© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

want

i’m afraid
to trust myself.
i can’t see you,
hear you,
feel you,
yet i know
you are there.

something in
my spirit
tells me so,
but i want
to know
beyond any
doubt.

the voices,
thoughts,
impressions
that i have,
are they you
or are they
me?

where is
the clarity
i seek –
that i keep
asking for
and desiring
deep within?

i want
an encounter,
an interaction,
answers
to the questions
that are
there.

© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

distractions

anything
that excludes
you
is simply a
distraction.
you are
invited
into all
but show up
for only
a portion
of that which
i do –
things,
activities,
events,
moments.

© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

beginning to curl

i’m still processing the loss of relationship in my life, but am starting to find a bit of healing in all of the muddlement. (is that even a word?) i’ve been in such a dark place, and still find myself drawn to the shadows, but i am starting to see some light. the first ray of light came in the form of a quote that i had written down some time ago, but had recently rediscovered as i was looking through some old files on my computer. the quote said, “don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” now, that’s a lot easier said than done, but it does give me a completely different perspective on the past eight months of my life. in fact, it really could give me a completely different perspective on the past thirty-four years. why? well, i think it’s forcing me to look at the positive outcomes in my circumstances as opposed to the negative. (which i so often do.)

subconsciously, i was aware of this concept within the first week of separation, but i think that it may have been a bit forced – forced in the sense that i was doing it not because it was the right thing to do, but because i thought it was the right thing to do. i soon realized the wisdom in what i had done. i remember asking myself if i thought that i was a better person as a result of this relationship, or if i had become worse. surprisingly, i was able to list ten areas of my life where i had seen improvements. wow! ten? i am a better father. i have a better understanding of the importance of friendship. i have a better understanding of the importance of community. i’ve encountered people of faith who live very differently than i do. i’ve learned so much about the world. it’s amazing. and i found it easier to appreciate the gift that i was given – the gift that i was able to hold and cherish – instead of dwelling on the fact that the gift was taken away. (okay, i still think about the “taking away” part, but just not as much.)

now, anyone who really knows me, knows that my mind is constantly working. i think way too much. it’s as if there are voices that are constantly speaking and they continuously chatter – this side of the coin, that side of the coin – playing out every possible scenario. it’s both a blessing and a curse. and this loss of relationship has given these voices plenty to talk about. what’s worse is that my memory is incredibly sharp, which means that i virtually remember every hour, minute, and second of this relationship – where we were, what we were doing, what was being said – every detail. there were times when my brain literally felt like a busy restaurant with conversations happening everywhere, all at the same time.

but in the midst of all of this, there was something very interesting that started to happen. it started towards the end of last week. i can’t explain it. it just happened. thoughts continued to form in my mind, but instead of playing out each thought, i found the corners of my mouth starting to curl and a silly grin forming on my face. i couldn’t figure out what was going on. was i just trying to cover up the pain? was i so completely messed up that my body was starting to freak out? i’m not sure. but one thought that i had is that i was finally experiencing what it meant to take every thought captive. i think that i was beginning to realize that all of these thoughts weren’t going to change a thing. i couldn’t go back and change the past. i couldn’t figure out what was going to happen in the future. and the present? how in the world did i have any clue what was going on in the present? what was i thinking? what was she thinking? i could easily form all kinds of scenarios and possibilities, but none of them based on facts. they would all have been based on assumptions. what’s the point? and then it hit me. all of these thoughts were simply distractions. and i was finding humor in the idea that the enemy was messing with me and trying to distract me – over and over and over again.

what i realized is this. the only power that the enemy can have in my life is the power that i give him. and i’m tired of giving him anything. i want to give to those that are a part of my life. i want to give to those that cross my path. i want to give to those who are in need. i want to give to my family, my friends, and my community. no more distractions. no more lies. and no more living in a place that feels so controlling and empty. this is what i need. i need to live a life that is filled with joy. i need to feel whole and fully alive. i need to glow. i’m certainly not there yet, and it will probably be slow going, but i can feel the desire within me to start pursuing that kind of life. a life that is filled with light, not darkness. i imagine that it’s warm there. and i’ve heard that the air is thick with hope. and as i sit here writing – pondering that kind of life – i can feel the corners of my mouth beginning to curl.

a broken heart

i’ve been reading and thinking quite a bit about relationships over the past couple of weeks. why? perhaps it’s because my heart was recently broken by one that i loved. and it’s left me hurting, wanting, questioning, pondering, doubting, crying, writing, and processing. most of all, it’s left my mind, heart, body, and soul feeling numb all over.

there are moments when i just want to jump right in and find someone else to love. and then there are moments when i think that i will never pursue another romantic relationship again. what’s the point of putting myself in a position to be hurt again, right? and yet i know that there can be such huge rewards when we take risks. (at least that’s what i try to tell myself.)

i’m tired of being hurt. and to be honest, i am feeling angry. first towards the enemy who i believe is out to distract us and get us off course, and ultimately keep us from the life that god intends for us. but i’ve also been feeling angry towards god. i feel as if the relationship that i had was a gift from him and yet he allowed it to be taken from me. why would he do that? actually, i know why, but it sucks. free will. i have a choice and those i am in relationship with have a choice as well. and when those choices don’t line up, someone usually gets hurt. so then, if god knew that i was going to get hurt, why would he have even put me in that position? couldn’t he have protected me from it all together? you don’t give someone a gift and then take it away, do you? i honored that gift and poured everything i had into it, but here i sit, spent and alone.

and then there are the munchkins. whether they like it or not – whether they understand it or not – they are expected to play along in all of this. they have experienced joy and pain just like me in this relationship. i’m happy for the joy, but feel responsible for the pain. i try to explain, but i don’t know that they really get it. and i wonder sometimes what they are learning about relationships from me. (probably an entirely different blog.)

i think that the tragedy in all of this is that i don’t know that i will ever be able to pour myself into anyone whole-heartedly again. there will always be this voice in the back of my head, or on my shoulder, or in my stomach (you get the idea) that will whisper doubt into my ear and challenge my ability to trust. outside voices tell me that in time, i will be able to love again, to pursue again, and to trust again, but i worry that the damage has already been done. and even though i know that god can heal me, i doubt my own ability to let go of this newly acquired baggage (conveniently relabeled “self-preservation”) so that he could actually do it.

(insert sigh here) . . . it seems like when my heart broke, some other things must have broken as well.

does jesus hurt?

i’ve been thinking a lot about how much it hurts to pour everything you have into someone, only to have them pull back and ask that the relationship be less than it was. initially, this is devastating. it can cause some very deep wounds and a boatload of hurt. but then, over time, the hurt turns to sadness and the sadness to acceptance and we find that we can boldly move forward. in some cases, we move forward with the other individual – in the capacity that they’ve requested. and in other cases, we simply walk away – leaving the relationship behind altogether.

now, what’s interesting about all of this, is how quickly we can discard our feelings for those that pull away from us. since the relationship doesn’t seem to be working out the way that we had wanted or intended (and because we don’t like to be wounded), we try to convince ourselves that the feelings we once had, need to be abandoned. we simply try to get rid of them – in whatever way we can. for some, this process takes days, and for others, months or even years. but isn’t it interesting how quickly we begin to search for someone else – once that process is complete?

you see, we have something inside of us that is longing to be filled by relationships. and when they (those relationships) don’t seem to be fulfilling or meeting all of our expectations – or when they deteriorate – we immediately start looking for someone else to fill that empty spot in our lives. we typically don’t wait because we are under the impression that we must have mistaken the relationship (or individual) for something that it wasn’t. or we think that we completely misread the situation. or that we acted out of desire instead of reason. but where do trust and hope fit into all of this? what if that person really was (or is) “the one?” do we ever hold on and wait?

well, i don’t have the answers. and i can tell you from personal experience that these types of situations are incredibly difficult to process and work through. in fact, it’s not an enjoyable experience at all – to have someone draw near and then pull away. and often, i find myself complaining, whining, and just sitting in a puddle of discouragement. and then it hit me. i wonder if this is exactly how christ feels – at times. he passionately pursues us with everything that he has and yet too often, we pull back and desire for the relationship to be less complicated and less involved. we want the relationship to be on our terms – where we feel comfortable and we can maintain some kind of control. sometimes, we stay in the relationship, but there are also times when we might actually walk away.

the good news for us, is that jesus is omnipotent. he knows that this is the perfect relationship. and because he knows that we are “the one,” he waits for us. he doesn’t start looking for someone to replace us – to replace the role that we would play in his life (or in his kingdom). but i do wonder how he feels. is he devastated? does he get discouraged? does he hurt? maybe the pain that i feel in relationships isn’t really that big of a deal in the big scheme of things. perhaps i should be paying more attention to my relationship with christ. here’s a thought...i can so easily be hurt by the one who doesn’t respond to my pursuit, but am i actively responding to christ’s pursuit of me? ahhh, more on my long list of things to think about.

sign

i looked in the mirror this morning, but i couldn’t see it. why couldn’t i see it? it seems like everyone else can. but for some reason i can’t. i’m talking about the big sign on my forehead that reads, “i’m a nice guy. i won’t care. go ahead and let me down.”

i’ve felt let down by family, friends, and co-workers many times in my life and every time it happens, it hurts. not just a little, but a ton. people just don’t get it. they don’t understand that when you break your word, it’s like saying, “you’re just not as important to me as this other thing that i want or need to do.” or in some cases, “you’re just not important.” sure there are times when commitments need to be broken – for work or an emergency – but when the reason given is an excuse of some kind, it simply hurts. the disappointment eventually passes. the frustration eventually passes. but the feeling of being let down does not. for some reason, it’s hard for that feeling to pass. it lingers. and it plays with my thoughts. it messes with the way that i see myself and the way in which i see others.

there have been very few times in my recent life when i’ve broken a commitment or not done what i said i would do. that’s not to say that i haven’t, and it’s not to say that i’m better than anyone else. that’s not why i follow through. i follow through because i know how it feels to be on the other end. i know the importance of people’s feelings and how imperative it is for people to feel valued – for me to feel valued.

so, why does this keep happening to me? do people think that being let down has no emotion attached? do they honestly think that i will just accept the fact that they bailed on me and feel nothing? what am i missing? where is that sign? and what exactly does it say?

damn little spider

i battle the extremes of hope – feeling either hopeful or hopeless – on a continual basis and it really wears on me. i find myself gravitating towards one and then the other. it’s random and it varies from situation to situation. and in some cases, i bounce back and forth in the very same situation. it occurs all of the time, but most often it occurs in the unknown – meaning that i’m asking my mind, heart, and spirit to fill in the blanks of those events or situations in my life that i have absolutely no clue about (but think that it would be useful to figure out both in advance and on my own). it’s stupid, very stupid. i wish that i could just latch on to one and discard the other because at the very least, it would seem consistent, and thus eliminate the battle. (at least that’s what i tell myself.) but it seems impossible. and it really makes no sense to think that a life of hopelessness is even an option when the alternative is a life filled with hope, right?

so, i’ve been thinking about this a lot and here is best way i know how to describe it. it’s as if i have a spider stuck in my body that continually spins a web and relentlessly moves around – back and forth, side to side, top to bottom – setting traps for me to deal with. at times i find myself avoiding the web, moving through the spaces that still exist as i enter into the world of healthy imagination. i can picture the wonderful possibilities that lie before me and with those images come a sense of hope that brings peace, understanding, and contentment. other times, i find myself stuck in the web, trying aimlessly to get free, but instead finding my own efforts to be making things worse rather than better. it is in this time of struggle that i find myself in the world of damaging assumptions. i can so easily picture the most negative scenarios that lead to a sense of hopelessness. and with this hopelessness comes confusion, resentment, and despair. two different worlds with two entirely different sets of feelings and emotions. i think that god would want me to live in the world that brings hope, but it’s so easy to fall into the world of hopelessness. why is it so easy to assume the worst – not only in others, but in myself as well? doesn’t the whole idea of hopelessness contradict the idea of faith in one’s life? isn’t faith supposed to provide hope? and if i have faith, why do i so often feel hopeless?

obviously, there is some kind of disconnect and i need to find it. but honestly, i’m not quite sure where to look. i feel disconnected all over sometimes. my mind feels disconnected at times. my heart feels disconnected at times. and even my spirit feels disconnected at times. the worst is when all three feel disconnected at the very same time. those times in my life are the worst in that i tend to retreat and try to carry every burden on my own. however, those times also force me to realize that i need help and push me into a deeper relationship with god. and that’s when the hope starts to return – clearing away the cobwebs that keep finding their way back into my life. it feels good to clear away those pesky cobwebs, but what really irritates me is that i never seem to get rid of the spider. sometimes it’s a thought. sometimes a feeling. sometimes a voice. i hate that little spider because it robs me of the life and greatness that god intended for me. damn that little spider. (this is where i silently count to ten.)

okay, so maybe those times aren’t as bad as they seem. (i can’t believe i’m saying that.) my instinct is to find the cause of my hopelessness and get rid of it so that i can live a life that is in a perpetual state of hope. it would feel so much better. but is that really the best thing for me? if my relationship with god grows deeper as a result of hopelessness, would it become stale and predictable if i continually lived in a state of hope? perhaps god wants me to enter into periodic times of hopelessness so that he can hold me and love me and speak to me. perhaps it’s the hopelessness that maintains the hopefulness in my relationship with god. and that would mean that i need to actually appreciate the role that hopelessness plays in my life, doesn’t it? hmmm, i’ll have to think about this a bit more.

shift in theology

i’ve been thinking a lot about life and how it can many times just plain suck. and then i’ve been thinking a lot about how i should be praying when i’m going through these times that are anything but enjoyable – when i’m unhappy, stressed out, lonely, feeling abandoned, feeling let down, sick to my stomach, etcetera, etcetera. i used to pray for god’s will to be done – often after i prayed for everything that i want – trying to be sensitive to the whole idea that what god has placed on my heart is both his will and what i want. i guess i still pray that way when the situation only involves me, but i’ve realized that as soon as it involves someone else, i can’t really pray that way anymore. sure, god can do anything that he wants to do and force his will to happen, but isn’t that outside of his character? he’s not going to make someone else (or me for that matter) do anything. he gives us free will to choose as we desire. so, even if i want god’s will to be done and am feeling like i know what that would be, someone else may or may not choose to succumb to his will – which means that if they choose to follow their own will instead of god’s, they not only mess things up for themselves, but they mess it up for me as well. and vice versa, that i have the power to mess things up for myself as well as others that i’m involved with (friends, family, coworkers, and many more). that sucks! the positive in all of this is that god can work in messy situations and he can clean up wherever and whenever we make them. i don’t know that i like any of this, but i do know that i’ve started to pray very differently. i’ve been praying that god speaks truth to people and reveals things so at least they are making choices and decisions with a full deck of cards. i’ve been praying for the holy spirit to prompt people – placing people, situations, thoughts, etcetera on their hearts – so that at the very least they have to acknowledge those things and decide what to do with them. well, those are my thoughts for the day. like i said, i don’t like them, but i think that i understand them.

thinking about love

love has been showing up everywhere in my life lately. i’ve heard about it in church. i’ve discussed it with friends. i’ve seen it on the street. i’ve felt it in my arms. i’ve sensed it in the air. i’ve offered it. and i’ve received it. love has found it’s way into both my head and my heart, but i constantly wonder if i even have the slightest clue as to what love really is? what does love look like? what does it feel like? what does it smell like? what does it sound like? and what does it taste like? jesus commanded me to love, but how do i exactly do that? and is it possible to love both god and others if i have a hard time loving myself first?

i don’t know that i truly love myself the way that i should. in fact, i think that i’m incredibly hard on myself. i consistently pour out judgment over my life instead of receiving the grace that god desires to give. and i constantly attach conditions to love rather than accepting it without any condition at all. most of the time, i feel as if i need to earn love. i feel the need to deserve it. i feel as if there needs to be some kind of exchange or transaction involved. but that’s not really love then is it?

okay, so i struggle with loving myself. does that mean that i can’t help but to struggle with loving others? the dictionary says this about love . . . that it is the unselfish, loyal and benevolent concern for the good of oneself or another (adapted slightly). i honestly desire to treat others with this kind of love, but fail all of the time. and sometimes i wonder if i am even capable. sure, it seems doable with those individuals in my life that reciprocate the love that i pour into them, but what about those that don’t? and what about people that i don’t even know, but that i encounter by random? jesus was consistently encountering people that wanted more than they were willing to give. and he was consistently encountering people that he had never met before. yet, he always responded in love. he made no distinctions. he made no judgments. he had no conditions. he just loved people. and his love for god fueled that.

i wonder if jesus anticipated each and every one of his encounters. i struggle with that. sure, there are encounters that i anticipate, but there are also encounters that i would rather avoid. jesus didn’t do that. he didn’t avoid people. he welcomed them in love. in fact, i don’t know that anyone could have had an encounter with jesus and not have felt his complete, unconditional love. why? because jesus knew them – truly knew them. he knew everything about them and he knows everything about us. and that is exactly what each of us desires in this life – to be known. now, jesus has the ability to know us because he is god and god is omnipotent. but in order for us to be known by others, we must take risks. one of the biggest risks that we can take is the risk of being transparent. and i think that transparency is critical in all of this – at least in the “being” loved part of all of this. perhaps i should rephrase that though, because transparency (or vulnerability) can also lead someone down a path of pain and suffering. i think that transparency – in the absence of judgment – opens the door for one to receive and experience true, godly love.

let me throw this into the mix. have you ever noticed that sometimes it can be easier to love someone when you know everything about them? when you are aware of the baggage and the hurts and the pain? that’s because you have a better understanding of why they respond the way that they do in certain situations. and it becomes more difficult to be upset or disappointed because you have a better understanding of the context in which they are responding. does that make sense? now, this only works in the absence of judgment though, because judgment usually doesn’t travel alone. in fact, judgment never travels alone. where there is judgment, there are conditions. where there is judgment, there are requirements. and love really isn’t love when you have to earn it, right?

so what was jesus’ secret? well, i believe that jesus loved people through empathy and compassion. jesus understood what hurt people. and he allowed himself to identify with them in their pain. he listened to them. he didn’t analyze. he didn’t respond with christian cliches. he didn’t jump into the role of counselor. he simply asked questions and listened. and although his words were often few, his eyes never stopped speaking.

i long to have the eyes of jesus . . . eyes that speak directly into each and every situation and individual that i encounter. eyes that are able and willing to see the good, the bad, and the ugly in the lives of those who cross my path and accept it all as god accepts it – accept it without judgment or condemnation so that i am able to respond in perfect love. i need to look at my own life with those same eyes as well.

here is one last thought. jesus was able to see directly into the soul of every person he encountered. and he didn’t get hung up on all of the junk that he saw along the way. instead, he focused on the potential that his creation had. that we have. he didn’t see an “us” and “them.” he always saw a “we.” and he knew that whether or not people were like him in spirit, they all had the “potential” of becoming like him in spirit. maybe that’s the other critical part of the equation. maybe that’s the key to “showing” love . . . to look at others within the context of their spiritual potential. to see what they are capable of – outside of our own limited perspective or our own limited visibility. to see them as god sees them. is that possible? i think so. well, it has to be if that is what jesus calls us to do. but perhaps it can only start when i am first able to apply this principle to my own life. perhaps i need to see myself as god sees me before i am able to see others as he sees them.

day twenty-five

surprised by my desire to keep some things to myself. sorry. and surprised by some stinky shoes. (i’ll spare you any kind of deep, spiritual analogy here.)

day twenty-four

surprised by feelings and questions. i had a lot of feelings swirling within me today. i felt anticipation, empathy, distant, close, nervous, anxious, apprehensive, engaged, bold, confident, and uncertain. and i began to think about how jesus responded to these feelings. how did he process the everyday activities in his life? did he ever question his actions? the words that he spoke? were there ever conversations that kept playing over and over in his mind like a broken record? wondering how the outcome may have been different had he said something different? did he ever fumble over his words? or say something that perhaps he shouldn’t have? i do these things all of the time.

i’m also starting to wonder about how jesus reacted in worldly (probably not the right descriptor) situations. here’s an example. let’s say jesus is at a wedding ceremony and it’s the sixth day of the week-long celebration. the bride’s cousin, who is known to be extremely promiscuous, has had way too much to drink and is hitting on jesus in front of others. now, how does jesus respond? in his arrogance, does he consider himself better and walk away leaving her to feel empty? does he kiss her back when she comes on to him and wants a little action? is he concerned about what others are thinking? is he wrestling with how he should react? how others will view his response? and if i’ve invited jesus into my very being, then how can i make sure that my responses are being driven by him rather than me?

here is a thought (and i have no clue whether or not this is even close to being right). did jesus rely so heavily on the holy spirit – to go before him in preparation, to be with him in the midst of everything, and to clean up behind him – that he never had concern for the words that came out of his mouth? how his conversations began, developed, or concluded? did he ask and trust the holy spirit to be the interpreter of his every word? to be his translator? and not only in everything that he said, but in everything that he did, everything that he was? and do i have the very same access to that very same spirit?

god, help me to trust you in every situation. to trust you in every relationship. to trust you in every conversation. to trust you in every action. trust that you will package everything that i do and say to be exactly the way you would have it.

day twenty-three

surprised by peace. i felt an incredible amount of peace in my spirit today. and not just my spirit, but in life around me. my work day was productive and lacked any sense of urgency (which is not always the case). my time with my children was smooth, interactive, enjoyable, and fulfilling (again, which is not always the case). and the rest of my evening turned out to be very pleasant and spiritually rewarding. here’s a taste . . .

upon returning from my routine of dropping the kids at home on tuesday evenings, i decided to light the candles, power up the stereo, and catch up on a bit of reading for a small group that i’m involved with. i cued up charlie parker and plopped myself on the couch – books in hand. there were two selected chapters from two different books that i was going to tackle. the first discussed the idea of living out of the center (meaning that as christians, our lives should revolve entirely around the person of jesus) and the second discussed the idea of confessing our sins (as christians) to the world. both provided words and phrases that seemed to jump off the pages. some found their way to my head and others found their way to my heart. but there was also a sense of peace that began to permeate my very being. i don’t know that i can attribute this peace to the content of the reading material, but i could feel myself submitting to this idea of trusting god in absolutely everything – understanding that he was, is, and will be in control of every situation in my life. and all that it requires is that i invite him in – into every failure, every success, every truth, every doubt, every struggle, etcetera, etcetera. and then the simplicity of this whole thing became aware to me – my peace was a direct result of my trust. the concept wasn’t really a surprise, but the feeling was.

it’s one thing to know something and entirely another to actually feel it – working itself out in you. well, tonight i felt it and it felt pretty good. thank god that these surprises are more than just visual representations of his majesty, but that they are also internal stirrings that can be felt within.

day twenty-two

surprised by freedom. i’m surprised by the way in which god is leading me to be free and to live in the moment. this is such a hard concept to grasp because it seems like i am always looking either ahead or behind. i miss so much. i try extremely hard to be fully present with people (when i am with them), but don’t always implement this practice in the rest of my daily life. i’m typically racing from one thing to the next and the reality is, that i rarely take the time to bask in the moment – to really enjoy those things that breathe life into me. well, it’s time to stop racing. and i think that god is trying to teach me more about that concept. i believe that he wants me to be less and less worried about the things that i’ve missed in the past as well as the things that may be approaching in the future, and instead, to simply focus on enjoying those things that i’m a part of “in the now.”

i unintentionally practiced this concept the other day and was so thankful that i had. in fact, i actually felt better for it. i had committed to attending an event and had planned on being there the entire day, but when the time came to hop in my car and go, i decided to continue in what i was already doing instead. now, please understand that i am not endorsing that people make commitments and then bail. that has happened to me (as the recipient of the cancellation) on many occasions and it has greatly impacted my capacity for hope on a yearly, monthly, weekly, and sometimes even daily basis. being let down does more harm than i think we realize. but we can discuss that another day.

i guess my point is this. i realized that the world would not stop spinning if i didn’t show up at this function. i realized that the event was not about me. and i realized that if god was leading me to continue in what i was already doing, then i needed to stay put and continue in the moment. this was definitely surprising...because when i say i will do something, i do it. when i make a commitment, i keep it. and i take it very seriously to be a man of my word and to follow through. but i am also learning more about freedom. and if that is the life that jesus spoke about as he walked among us on the face the earth, then i seem to be journeying in the right direction. god is changing me. and i am thankful.

weekend three

surprised by the way in which i control my children. surprised by the placement of the moon. and surprised by a continued conversation. way to much to process at the moment.

day nineteen

surprised by a conversation. a missing key has required that one group of neighbors and i interact a bit more frequently. and it has been a huge blessing. the conversations have been short, but i’m thankful for the opportunities to connect. and i’m thankful that it opened the door to connect with one neighbor in particular. she is a complete stranger to me, but i have been intrigued by her routine and curious to hear more of her story. and the opportunity presented itself when i least expected it.

unit number one – consisting of a boyfriend, a girlfriend, and their friend – have decided that they would like to throw a neighborly function for the entire building. this function will be relatively small (since there are only four units) but will provide a great opportunity to meet and connect with others that we essentially share space with. rumors had been floating around that this event was in the works, but it was day nineteen of this experiment that the planning phase officially began.

it must have been 6:30 p.m. when i heard the first knock on my door. as i approached, i heard a voice identifying herself as haley.* she wanted to know if saturday night would work for our get together and after deciding that it would, explained that she would return with the specifics. thirty minutes later, i heard another knock on my door. this time it was grace,* haley’s roommate. she proceeded to tell me that the original night wouldn’t work and asked if i could offer an alternative. we continued to chat for about ten minutes (well, really for three as we were being consistently interrupted by my children and their obsession for taking pictures with my camera phone). again, i was told to await the details.

the girls and i continued our evening as expected – playing for a bit, taking baths (the kids, not me), and reading a few stories. we said our prayers, lit the candle and the flashing “go star” lightbox, and crawled into bed (again the kids, not me). and as i continued the evening by myself – picking up some odds and ends around the house – it hit me. the night that i gave as an alternative, wasn’t going to work. i completely spaced it. argh! i didn’t really want to go downstairs and share the bad news, but decided that out of respect, i should do so (before the entire event had been planned).

i apologized for being the most difficult tenant on the planet and then to my surprise was invited in – to sit and chat. grace was alone, watching television, while her friends were out enjoying their weekly ethiopian meal with others in their circle of influence. i shared with her my interest to hear her story – to find out who she was and how life had shaped her. it seemed like a pretty big request to ask of a stranger, but she obliged. and it was so refreshing to be able to enter into a conversation with someone on a night that i typically just spend by myself (after the munchkins are all tucked away). after twenty minutes or so, her friends returned (with additional friends) and i said my goodbyes. (it felt a bit awkward to continue in front of an audience.) as i left their apartment, and climbed the stairs back to mine, i felt joy. the conversation that i had just shared with a new friend had been simple but rich and i hoped that it would continue. it was a pleasant surprise.

and as i write this entry today, i'm realizing just how much i love connecting with people and engaging them in conversation (not always easy for an introvert). god, thank you for this surprise today.

* names have been changed to protect the innocent. ha!

day eighteen

surprised at how far i have left to go. today i realized how unlike christ i really am. it was humbling, embarrassing, frustrating, and enlightening – all at the same time. i was just returning from running a few errands over lunch and was approaching the front door of the building where i work, when i heard a familiar voice. “sir?” i tried to ignore it, but it persisted – this time a little louder. “sir?” still, i paid no attention. i had a lot on my mind and was needing to get back to work. then i heard it again – so loud that i could no longer avoid it. “sir!”

i turned and responded with an impatient and prideful “yes?” and as the homeless man approached me, i could already sense a spirit within that was anything but the spirit of christ. he explained to me that he needed “six for the shelter.” i wasn’t following, and asked him to repeat himself several times. basically, he wanted some of my money. part of what irritated me was the fact that he seemed to expect it. he wasn’t really asking – he just expected. the problem here is that i was too busy focusing on his behavior and judging his appearance, tactics, motives, etc., that i completely lost sight of the way i was treating him. (i should have been focusing on my own behavior instead.) i told him that i wasn’t carrying any cash but that i had change. “do you want it?” what a stupid and rhetorical question. of course he wanted it, but i was making him work for it. in spite, i dumped a handful of change into his hand and started to walk away. as i turned, i noticed this man slowly lower his head to look at the coins and then i heard him say, “bless you.” bless me? and that’s when it hit me. here is a man who simply wants a meal and a bed and i’m selfishly thinking about the two quarters that i was going to use for half a load of laundry or a parking meter. i am such an idiot sometimes.

as soon as i set foot in the elevator, my heart felt heavy. how is it that one day i can be driving by a homeless person on the street and feel led to intercede on their behalf, and then the next, treat another like a dog – much like the samaritans were treated back in the day. i hate that about myself. and it hurts me to write about this because i can see so many areas of this encounter that line up with or remind me of stories i’ve read about in the bible. and not the good ones. i denied this man three times before realizing it. i considered myself (my thoughts and my schedule) as being much more important than the condition and needs of this man – making me the pharisee. i avoided the teachings of jesus and the early church in making a distinction between mine and his (there was no community in this story). and then i made him work for what he wanted – belittling him and requiring him to acknowledge that he wanted what i had. essentially, i made him beg (something that god never requires of me).

this incident stuck with me all day. it burdened me in some way and i didn’t like it. i hoped that god would give me another opportunity with this man – not so much to give him more money, but just to apologize for my behavior and to ask a few questions that would allow him to dialogue with me on his terms. unfortunately, that opportunity never came.

last night, i attended a function that addressed the real-life struggles of ex-convicts in our communities. the stories were authentic, depressing, scary, unbelievable, and inspiring. the panelists had many things in common, but the greatest was that each of them had encountered god. and i found it amazing that he had met them in their time of greatest need and often greatest struggle. i was also amazed at the struggle that was birthed in me. as i listened to these ex-offenders share with us what they had been through, i could see jesus embracing each one of them without any hesitation. and yet i wondered if i would be able to do the same. i struggled with the fact that my heart wasn’t pure. could i really invite one of these individuals into my life and love them unconditionally? would my feelings of fear, skepticism, and distrust get in the way? would i? could i? should i?

was i surprised today? yes, and the surprise was me. the surprise was bad. and the surprise was good. god help me.

day seventeen

surprised by a heavy heart. my heart felt heavy today for a friend. i want god to take action. to make himself known. to reveal himself. but that’s not really in his character, is it? he doesn’t force his ways on any of us. he simply asks that we invite him in first. here’s the problem. i believe that my friend has already invited god in, but doesn’t feel like he ever showed up. i don’t know what to do or what to say. i only know that my heart is heavy.

i can only imagine how heavy jesus’ heart must have felt as he interacted with and engaged other people on earth. i wonder sometimes if he ever struggled with depression. i can’t imagine having the power to see into everyone’s lives – the hurts, the struggles, the baggage, the bondage – and not have it affect me intellectually, emotionally, and physically. it had to have affected jesus in these ways too. and does it still affect him? does he still struggle with these feelings as he intercedes for us on a consistent basis?

i guess my heaviness makes me a little like jesus. that's a bit of a surprise – to feel like jesus when you don't really feel that great. god, help me to understand this.

day sixteen

surprised by transparency. it’s been a hard couple of weeks for me with a lot of rumblings in my mind and feelings of discontentment in several areas of my life. i know god is leading me, but that doesn’t always mean that i’m feeling chipper. one of the worries that i’ve been carrying around had to do with an upcoming review at work. it had been quite some time since my employers and i had formally arranged to sit down and talk about studio life. and i was a bit concerned with how they would receive the thoughts and comments that i had prepared to share. i wanted to be completely transparent but feared whether or not they would be willing (or able) to make the adjustments that i felt were needed to bring both life and passion back into my employment.

i was pleasantly surprised. as i met with them this morning, they encouraged me to be frank and honest about how i had been feeling and seemed to agree with everything that rolled off my tongue. they were incredibly receptive and i found it to be a huge blessing (and somewhat of a surprise). i can’t tell you how freeing it is to be transparent with people. i realize that it can be a huge risk, but i have found that even when transparency is not well received, it opens the door for personal reflection and some form of self-evaluation that most often leads to healing. there is something therapeutic about it.

i was also surprised by an idea today. as i was giving this experiment a bit of my think time, i had a thought. what if i were to follow-up this 30-day experiment with another 30-day experiment of my own – where the roles of the participants are reversed. now, you would need to take god’s omnipotence out of the equation, but roll with me on this one. what if i were to imagine god praying, “surprise me peripheral” each morning. what could i do that would surprise god? to let him know that i’m present? to let him know that i care about him? to let him know that i love him? etcetera. etcetera. how would my daily life change and what would i be doing to keep my relationship with him fresh?

now, i realize that there is nothing that i can do to make god love me any more than he already does. and that would not be the point. but i do wonder how my agenda would change. because instead of asking and waiting for god to respond to me, i would be more focused on serving him. i wonder how my time with him would change? how my intimacy with him would change? hmmm, interesting.

day fifteen

surprised by people who truly care. surprised by people who are authentic. surprised by people who are willing to be vulnerable. i long to build friendships with these types of people and god revealed a few of them to me today. surprised and grateful.

weekend two

surprised in relationships. i interacted with a lot of people this weekend and it was a blessing. interesting at times, but overall a blessing. (a surprise for someone who struggles with breaking out of his introvertedness.) on saturday morning, i had the opportunity to spend a small amount of time with a couple of new friends from south africa, who simply took the time to share their stories and their hearts. i love stories. in fact, if i was able to, i think that i would just drop everything and immerse myself in them. stories are so powerful and have a way of drawing people in. i like to tell stories and i like to listen to stories. i guess that i’m a bit like jesus that way. he was a great storyteller. but he was also a great listener. in fact, i think that a lot of his content came from observing and listening to those around him. interesting thought – that jesus could have actually been inspired by us.

i know that i am inspired by jesus every day. the way he walked. the way he talked. the way he prayed. the way he led others. and on and on and on. but to think that he could have been inspired by us is a new thought. or maybe it’s not us that inspired him. maybe it was what he saw in us – a capacity for faith that would lead us into lives of freedom. that must be it, because that is what inspires me as i listen to others – their faith. faith in their struggles. faith in their courage. faith in their gifts. and on and on and on.

one of the things that i like so much about stories is that they are always new and fresh. each of us has a unique story to tell. but what happens when someone starts to share a part of their story that seems to fall into a script – a script that seems familiar because you’ve heard it once or twice before. or perhaps you’ve heard it many times before. i’m talking about a kind of script that feels generic and is used to fill in the gaps that we are too afraid to live out and experience for ourselves. and because it sounds good, no one questions it or tries to figure out if it really fits or not. i think christians do this a lot – especially with their beliefs. not all christians do this, but i think many of them do. and i think that i heard part of a script today.

i had been invited to an open house (earlier in the week) for a former youth pastor that had returned to minnesota. god had called him to another state to serve in a variety of ministry opportunities over the past fifteen years, but was now calling him back to serve as senior pastor of a newer church in central minnesota. it was so good to see him and others that were there – individuals that i hadn’t seen for many, many years. i found myself having some great conversations throughout the afternoon and was glad that i had decided to attend. but there was one conversation that troubled me. it troubled me because part of it sounded a lot like a script – a formula if you will.

i was speaking with a woman who has a gay sibling and was interested in hearing about how this sister of hers had been doing. i had known her in high school and just wanted to get an update on her life – you know, basis questions. i found out that she was still living in california (i had known that at one time but wasn't sure if that was still the case), but also learned that she had been traveling back and forth to minnesota on a frequent basis, which provided her family the opportunity to see more of her. she seemed to be in a transitional period in her life. as we talked, however, i could sense a deep struggle with how this woman's family was responding to her sister's lifestyle. and i could immediately tell that they had developed some strong feelings about the subject.

i was encouraged to hear this woman talk about wrapping her sister in the love of jesus, even though other members of her family didn’t necessarily agree with how she was doing this. but the love that she described seemed to have conditions attached. that bothered me. it bothered me because the jesus that i know loves unconditionally. obviously, this is easier said than done, but it still bothered me. (actually, it saddened me.) and there was one statement in particular that broke my heart. at one point in the conversation, i heard this woman say that she was just waiting for the day when her sister would return to her faith and be normal again. i wanted to speak – to tell her exactly what i was thinking – but refrained. instead, i just revealed to her that i still have more questions about the subject than i do answers – specifically related to how jesus would respond. and as my mouth said one thing, my mind was thinking about others. normal? isn’t she normal now? what is it that makes her abnormal? if homosexuality is sin, and sin makes this woman abnormal, doesn’t that make the rest of us abnormal? and doesn’t that make us all the same?

i’m finding that god is surprising me with questions. and this weekend he used relationships to bring them to the surface.

day twelve

are you hearing this god? it’s well after dinner and not much has happened today. i sometimes wonder what god can really do when i’m stuck in the office all day – working independently on projects and not interacting very much with my co-workers. pretty shallow thinking, i know, but still a thought that crosses my mind.

so, i’ve scooped up the munchkins from daycare and after-school, we’ve eaten dinner, and i’ve interacted with them in a variety of ways. my youngest is requesting that we read from her children’s bible, and although i’m tired, how can i refuse. she loves it because each short page ends with a question or two to see if she can remember what the story was about. as i read the stories and ask the questions, i remember how jesus used to spend time with people – asking lots of questions. sometimes he wanted to see if they had been listening. sometimes he wanted to see if they understood. and sometimes he just wanted to see if they were paying attention in the day-to-day activities of their lives. i love the hunger that my youngest is showing towards reading about god. and i imagined him all snuggled up next to us as we read.

my oldest had fallen asleep on the couch and i decided to carry her to bed. i expected her to remain in a deep slumber, but instead she woke up and requested a bath. (there’s a surprise.) and it was at some point during her bath that we entered into this deep discussion about dreams and satan and angels and demons. i explained to her that there would be times in her life when she would hear voices that intended to scare, manipulate, discourage, and tear her down, but that as a child of god, she would know the truth and have the ability to stand against them. it was a great conversation. and i realized that as i was teaching her, she was in fact teaching me as well. i just love the way that her brain works. it literally blows me away.

and then there was this thought. i realized that as she sat on the toilet (all wrapped up and toasty warm in her towel) and as i sat on the edge of the bathtub, that god was standing by the door, leaning against the wall. and all i could do was to smile, shake my head in disbelief of how incredible this moment was with my daughter, and utter, “god, are you hearing this?”