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| About a month ago, a friend of mine asked me to read a section of a book, "Getting Fired for the Glory of God" It'a a collection of articles by Mike Yaconelli. When I read it, sections of it instantly brought me to tears. So, my friend (being a jerk) went out and bought the book for me.
I finally got it from him yesterday, and I haven't been able to put it down. I've re-read the intro 2x now... and am about halfway through all the articles. I wanted to share something with ya'all, and then talk a bit about how it makes me feel.
This is the introduction, written by Mark Yaconelli (Mike's son). He talks about his dad, and why they put together this book of articles after his death.
"Before you engage in any of this marerial, however, the first thing you should keep in mind is that Dad loved Jesus. I know all of us within the Christian faith are supposed to love Jesus. Many of us who work in the church try to love Jesus and help others love Jesus. But often a more accurate statement is that we believe in Jesus, we have faith in Jesus, we struggle to follow Jesus. Sometime after Dad turned 50, a transformation took place in his life. He went from believing in, admiring, and following Jesus to just plain loving Jesus.
"For his family, those of us most intimate with him, Dad's love for Jesus was often disarming. You might be standing in his kitchen drinking coffee (with potatoes and peppers cooking on the stove), and Dad would start talking about a project he was working on or an insight for a sermon he was preparing. The tone would be light and informal; then all of a sudden, he'd mention the name of Jesus, and his voicewould catch. At first you'd stop to see if he was ok, or if he needed something. Then you'd notice his eyes were wet, and he'd look at you kind of helplessly and shake his head for a moment as he tried to hold back the tears. It was then that you remembered: He really loves Jesus."
Even now, as I type this, I can feel my eyes start to get wet. I begin to wonder why is it that this particular story hits me the way that it does. And, I realize that it has a lot to do with how I wish I could love Jesus. I want to love him so much that it causes me to emotionally react when I hear his name, or I mention him in passing. What if we all loved Jesus that much? The kind of first love that gets so embedded in us that we cannot help but to hold up our hands, turn our heads and swallow a lump in our throat at the mere mention of Christ's name?
Being caught up in ministry can sometimes make us forget the simple reason as to why we do what we do. It pushes us, and instead of leaning on Jesus' strength, we fall back to our own gifts & understanding. A few chapters in, Mike Yaconelli talks in his article, "Where's Jesus?" about a meeting he was attending, where they were going over strategy to outreach to adolescents. They were discussing goals, technology, programs & the such, and they were asked to respond.
"I started to speak, but the words caught in my throat. My tears ambushed me, and I was unable to respond. Taken by surprise, I wondered what my tears were about. Instantly I saw the following mental picture: A man was leaning against the wall a few feet from us. He seemed lonely and sad, like a wallflower at a dance. One look at his eyes, and I could tell he desperately wanted us to notice him, to pay attention to him, to talk to him-but we just went on with our business and ignored him.
"That man was Jesus, of course. There he stood in the midst of our long conversation about strategies, programs, and target markets, and we didn't even notice the very reason why we have these meetings in the first place!"
Today, I think I am going to spend some time away from the business of work... and focus in on the business of being with my first love, my beloved, my Jesus. | | |
| So, for the last 6 months or so, I've been hearing about midnight bike rides. They are a trend that started where a bunch of riders get together around 10pm to ride throughout the city. As I understand it, most of the information as to when & where is spread over the internet. It was first told to me by one of my interns, CJ. He was totally excited by it, and I was decently interested. Some of it sounded unreal... why would a bunch of people get together to just bike through the city? Well, some of it is the social part of it. You get to meet a bunch of new people... hang out with a group of people more diverse than most places, and you get to see parts of the city that you probably never saw.
About a month after CJ told me, my brother also started getting into it. He ran in a different town than CJ, but had the same passion and enthusiasm. So after hearing about these crazy rides (and actually having one interupt one of my prayer tours), today I agreed to go to one.
My brother brought me to a ride on the West-side called the Crank Mob ride. It's a once a month ride, and about 500 people showed up!! We went through a bunch of cities; Culver City and Westwood just to name a few. In total, Jeremy and I think we rode around 15-17 miles. Of course, it took us about 4 hours to do it, but that's also because we stopped 2x so people (people like me) could rest, and other people could smoke ("I just rode 10 miles, and I am out of breath, let me inhale some smoke...").
Watching 500 people ride through crowded streets of Westwood was actually one of the funniest things I have ever seen. It's like a wave of people suddenly showing up and disappearing without warning. As they pass by you, they are screaming at the tops of their lungs, honking horns, blasting 4 different songs at once, and ringing those stupid little bike bells. It was funny to see some cars literally stranded in the sea of bikes; stopped waiting for the crowd to pass (which would take a good 5 -10 minutes) There was literally nothing they could do but watch. Many people yelled out as us, "Why are you biking?" "Where are you going?" "What is this?" Store patrons and owners left their restaurants, families came out of their homes, drunk people stumbled out of their bars... to see the spectacle. I could hear many people saying, "It's like it never ends!"
My brother commented to me before the ride started that I would see how it was like we were taking back the streets from the cars, and I suddenly understood as we rode down the street. We outnumbered the cars 100 to 1. It wasn't violent, angry, a protest, or anything... it was just a social event. A good time for people to get together. And as I looked around, I realized, there were no racial barriers here. No social classes. No judging others on what they were wearing, what bike they were riding, what music they were blaring... just commodery.
People would stop to help strangers when others fell, offer tire replacements, or help fixing a bike that broke down. And it was the norm. It wasn't strange, awkward, or uncomfortable.
Around the end of mile 2, I was exhausted!! But a couple people pulled up and encouraged me to keep going, and it would be easier. They were right! I started laughing with them as we rode together, and the ride became easier. I started yelling along with everyone cheering on our ride, and I felt included with the group.
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This isn't a perfect model, but as we were driving away, I started wondering, what if Church was like this? Not my church or your church, but Church, the bride of Christ, the witness to the world for what God has taught us?
What if:
- ... when someone new came to the group, they were welcomed with smiles and warm "hello"s?
- ... as people fall, others stop to make sure they are ok.
- ... we, as a group, stop once and awhile to rest, dance, and laugh
- ... stop divinging our church by race, class, sex, age, intellect, or denomination.
- ... when someone gets tired, strangers can come alongside to encourage & cheer us on.
If that happened, wouldn't others stop and say, "What is this?" "Where are you going?" "Why Christianity?"
Think about it... | | |
| When I was in middle school, I used to do a lot of reading late at night. Sometimes, I would fall asleep with my glasses still on. The next day, when my mom would wake me up, I would still have them on. She would laugh at me and ask me why I was still wearing my glasses. "Is it to see your dreams better?"
It's been awhile since I fell asleep with my glasses, but sometimes I ask myself if I can really see my dreams clearly. Vision for life sometimes becomes blurry, especially during transition times. And when it becomes blurry it is hard to tell if you are going the right way or not. Dreams, hopes, aspirations can all become difficult to put down in words. They can become distorted, changed, then forgotten all together.
As I look back into my life, I can remember a time when I thought I was going to be martyred for Christ before I hit 21. I can remember telling people that I was going to quit junior high school to become a missionary. I can remember being so zealous that I yelled at the top of my lungs for God to break me down into pieces and mold me as He saw fit.
I'm 30 going on 31 this year, and I haven't been martyred. I managed to finish high school. But, God is holding me to something. He continues to work in my life, breaking off pieces that don't fit His design, and molding me into something different, something changed, something beautiful.
God is faithful.
I drop out of college.
God is faithful.
I stop going to church.
God is faithful.
My work starts to consume my life.
God is faithful.
Life doesn't go as planned.
God is faithful.
...
...
...
...
God IS faithful.
Maybe I find a wife.
God IS faithful.
Maybe I stay single forever.
God IS faithful.
Maybe I never make the millions of dollars I planned. (maybe I do)
God IS faithful.
Maybe I help my friend who doesn't have a home. (maybe I ignore him)
God IS faithful.
Maybe I cry myself to sleep. (maybe I don't)
God IS FAITHFUL!
So, in it all, even though our dreams fade, and we forget why we started down this path. Our one love, our passion, our Lord continues to have His eyes on the prize. That we draw closer to Him.
And today, I say this:
"I serve at the pleasure of my Lord."
And tomorrow, I start over, and say again:
"I serve at the pleasure of my Lord."... and again, and again, and again...
"Therefore I glory in Christ Jesus in my service to God." - Romans 15:17 | | |
| It was to be expected... we all saw it coming. The last few months had become increasingly difficult as talks became more frequent and discussions about the future were more concrete. Excitement began to build and everything began to "take shape"
I am talking, of course, about the birth of Abigail Jeanette Hamilton. Yes, Rachel and Jeff had their baby. Everyone is healthy, happy, and safe. Congratulations again to the family! I couldn't be happier for you.
A month or so back, another couple at CSM had their first. A baby girl by the name of Lucy Elena Fox. And I have become really excited about the families that have really grown in CSM. That's not including the couple of ladies expecting. (Yes, apparently, it's the "in" thing to do now at CSM... no pressure on the rest of us who aren't even dating... hee hee)
With all the big political news that's been consuming America the last few weeks, I think it's wonderful to think of life not only in the political realm, but also the individual. What does the future hold for me? What does the future hold for you? What does it hold for little Abby? For Lucy? The future is a tricky thing, you don't know what decision you make today will influence the paths and dreams of tomorrow. Looking back at my life, I think much of what I am today is mostly influenced by the little tiny decisions, the ones I never even thought twice about.
Of course the future is tricky. Life itself was never ment to be a walk in the park. It's about learning, and discovery, and ups, and downs, and and and... well everything. I have made decisions based on the intellect of mind, love of heart, and the whims of my gut, but I think this upcoming year, I need to start to become more intentional in what I am doing. Learn to make decisions based on what people around me need, based on what is best for my life in the end, and based on the bigger picture.
What have you done lately? Ok, we voted, that's great. The activism doesn't end here. Getting involved doesn't stop with electing someone else to do it for you. Change is great, if you are helping the change. I really do believe we live in one of the greatest countries in the world. I have deep pride in saying that I am an American. But we have a long road ahead of us to change our worldwide perception, to become the people we claim to be, and to make this world a better place.
Because ultimately, it really is about making the world better isn't it? It's not for me, or for you... it's for the Abigail Jeanette Hamilton's, it's for the Lucy Elena Fox's, it's for... well our future. | | |
| Over the last few weeks, I have had a series of amazingly bad things happen all at once.
Some
of you heard, some of you haven't, but I totalled my car about a month
ago. I was driving through an intersection when the SUV in front of me
stopped, and I didn't have enough room between me and him. So, I hit
him. I saw it happening, so I managed to slam on the brakes, but...
still hit. Because his car was so much higher than mine, it's bumper
managed to go right over mine and hit my hood instead. Thus crushing
my radiator and doing significant frame damage. Nobody was hurt (thank
God), and I got most things worked out with my insurance company. I
was given a rental truck, they decided to buy my car at a ... fair
price, and I sighed and moved on. On Wednesday, my parents were
gracious enough to loan me their car, so I would not have to continue
to rent the truck, and pay outrageous prices on gas.
A few weeks
ago, my tooth started hurting. I tried to ignore it, because... well,
to be honest, the dentist scares me. It did get better, then it took a
turn for the worse. I was waking up at night, and I couldn't fall back
to sleep because my mouth hurt so much. So, on Wednesday, I called
into my dentist, and scheduled an appointment for Thursday. Thursday
9:30 in the morning. So, I get up on Thursday, drive myself down, and
got ready for the worst. After a few hours (of paperwork, x-rays, and
waiting) I finally got checked up. To which, my dentist tells me,
"Your teeth are in bad shape." This I could deduce from the pain.
What's the damage doc? Well, apparently, I need to re-do all my
fillings, get a root canal, and put crowns on 2 of my teeth. CRAZY!!
So, after much thought, I decide to just do it, starting with the root
canal. They start in on my teeth... 6 hours later, I walk out of the
dentist's chair with a sore mouth, new fillings on one side of my
mouth, and an appointment for Friday. I go back Friday morning to get
the other half of my mouth worked on, and prep for the crowns... I
walk out 4 hours later; tired, dizzy, and exhausted. Who knew sitting
in a chair for that long could wear you out so much. In the past week,
I've spent a little over 14 hours in a dentist chair. Am I done? No.
I'm going back on Monday to finish off the root canal. Then in about 2
weeks, I get to go back again to finish off the crowns. *sigh*
So
Friday, I get out of the dentist's office, and decide to try to get
into work to finish off some things I haven't gotten to... Being dazed
and confused, I must have forgotten to lock the passenger door to my
car. So, after about 4 hours at work, I walked out to my car to grab a
bag of clothes, and realize that someone had opened my door and stolen
the bag. Luckily, my parents had just given me their car, and there
wasn't anything in it. I was pretty upset, but I got over it quickly,
because I said to myself, "at least nothing is broken, and it was just
clothes that was stolen"
Last night, as I'm talking to a few
people at Dare & Tiff's wedding, I get a call from my roommate.
Apparently, the rental truck (which I was going to return on Monday),
was broken into next to my apartment while I was out. This time, they
didn't just open the door. They smashed the window, and grabbed my GPS
that was sitting on the dash. (Note: not the rental's GPS, mine). I
was really messed up at this point. I was exhausted, weary, and just
plain at my wit's end. I spent the next 40 minutes on the phone
waiting to talk to a police officer, and about an hour later, they
showed up on the scene to write up a police report. I stood outside,
while they told me that it was likely that the "perp" would get away,
and do it again to someone else. It really made me sad. I wasn't all
that attached to the GPS, but the invasion of personal property really
upset me.
When I finished, I walked back to my room and just
sat there. I think I just need this particular couple of days to end.
I want a whole week where I don't get kicked in the gut. Is that too
much to ask? It's like a bad movie. And I ask myself... why?
Today,
in my devotions, the Psalm I was reading was 121. Verse 7 reads, "The
LORD will keep you from all harm- he will watch over your life;" I
really want this to be true. I really do. | | |
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