Listening

Deeply listening is praising another with your silence.

The Sara Show

Created, edited, and uploaded entirely on the iPhone 4.

Europe - Paris/Rome

We recently took a trip to Europe that had three destinations. France, Italy, and Albania. The Albania portion of the trip was the longest and was the "work" portion of the adventure. This video features the Paris and Rome sections as they were very personal to our familly. It's with relunctance I leak a trip vid, because most of the time, watching someone else's travel video is as much fun as wearing your underwear backwards. I hope that won't be the case here.

We actually went on this trip intending to take only pictures and not to do a video as we are prone to do. At least as I am prone to do. I can get obsessive with a shot, taking valuable time on the go filming and editing the perfect scene as I see it in my head. So to spare the rest of the crew a series of idiosyncratic events I decided to stick with still pics on my cellphone and journal entries as a record of the days. But my son didn't get that memo, and captured a series of poignant images on his LG Optimus cell phone. Rather than let them collect dust on a memory card in an end table drawer, I thought it best to try to see if we could somehow capture the Spirit of the trip. Recently turned on to and moved by a band called Future of Forestry, I decided to set some of the clips to a selection of their songs.

For those of you who know us, and what I love to do, this is a long time coming. I haven't edited anything in quite a while. It's not for lack of love, mind you, but rather lack of time and inspiration. One trip to Paris and voila, inspired. I pray it somehow gives you a sense of the wonder we felt as group of family and friends embarked upon a truly live altering excursion into the world of beauty, rekindled love, exquisite cuisine, and a gentle awareness of God and His heart for people.

Thanks for reading, and for watching, and for coming along.

Random thoughts...

Who God is to you is Who He will be through you, whether judge or lover, the revelation you live under is what you will reflect.

You will always miss what you're not looking for.

We will label whatever we do not love.

To love someone, be a servant. When you wash the feet of another, you discover why they walk the way they do.

L'aventure de L'amour

It's been awhile since I've written but it's not for lack of material to communicate. It's more like an overload of material that feels lacking in focus. Ever feel like someone with all of the pieces to the puzzle but somehow you've misplaced the box with the picture on it? Yeah, like that.

The trip to Paris was amazing. Specifically, the vow renewal. Two very beautiful things happened that had the supernatural smile of God on them. It was around 31 degrees when we stood in front of Notre Dame to read what we had written. We stood, faced each other, were ready to go, and the bells started ringing. Very loud, very beautiful, very cool. But it wasn't at the top or bottom of the hour. By the clock, there was no reason they should have rung. But they did, and it was wonderful. The second thing was, when Traci started to read what she had written it suddenly got warmer. Warm enough to notice and warm enough to be comfortable. But when we were finished and we walked away from that spot, it was cold again. Like it had gotten warm in a radius of about 10 feet. I carried her over the threshold of Notre Dame where we then sat and listened to the silence of the cathedral. The kids walked to the top but we stayed inside and talked. Later we had a carousel ride in the rain, a walk on the banks of the Siene, went to the top of the Arc of Triumph, danced beneath the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, and had an all around magical experience. So good, so God.

Rome was spectacular, and the food in both countries was good enough to cry over. I'm not sure how I'll cope with American cuisine after this trip. I know some have an affinity toward Rome, but Paris felt like home to me, to us. In Rome, I felt like a tourist, which isn't bad. We only had two days to spend there so the first night (which was very cold) we spend getting lost in the alleys and backstreets, turning the corner to be greeted with a colossal cathedral or fountain, each one more spectacular than the last. Wandering into these places where a handful of people were scattered around praying in the dimly lit caverns of art and worship was surreal and awesome. I would live in Paris and visit Italy often I think. We saw the usual Roman postcard montage, the Coliseum, the Vatican, St Peters, Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and ruins upon ruins. It was Eat, Pray, Love as it ought to be.

Now we're in Albania. It's the wild west here. A living example of what happens when a country attempts to embrace both Communism and Islam at the same time. But God is stirring this nation. Much more to write about that, but I'm out of time.

Travel on

It's been awhile since I've written but it's not for lack of material to communicate. It's more like an overload of material that feels lacking in focus. Ever feel like someone with all of the pieces to the puzzle but somehow you've misplaced the box with the picture on it? Yeah, like that.

The trip to Paris was amazing. Specifically, the vow renewal. Two very beautiful things happened that had the supernatural smile of God on them. It was around 31 degrees when we stood in front of Notre Dame to read what we had written. We stood, faced each other, were ready to go, and the bells started ringing. Very loud, very beautiful, very cool. But it wasn't at the top or bottom of the hour. By the clock, there was no reason they should have rung. But they did, and it was wonderful. The second thing was, when Traci started to read what she had written it suddenly got warmer. Warm enough to notice and warm enough to be comfortable. But when we were finished and we walked away from that spot, it was cold again. Like it had gotten warm in a radius of about 10 feet. I carried her over the threshold of Notre Dame where we then sat and listened to the silence of the cathedral. The kids walked to the top but we stayed inside and talked. Later we had a carousel ride in the rain, a walk on the banks of the Siene, went to the top of the Arc of Triumph, danced beneath the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, and had an all around magical experience. So good, so God.

Rome was spectacular, and the food in both countries was good enough to cry over. I'm not sure how I'll cope with American cuisine after this trip. I know some have an affinity toward Rome, but Paris felt like home to me, to us. In Rome, I felt like a tourist, which isn't bad. We only had two days to spend there so the first night (which was very cold) we spend getting lost in the alleys and backstreets, turning the corner to be greeted with a colossal cathedral or fountain, each one more spectacular than the last. Wandering into these places where a handful of people were scattered around praying in the dimly lit caverns of art and worship was surreal and awesome. I would live in Paris and visit Italy often I think. We saw the usual Roman postcard montage, the Coliseum, the Vatican, St Peters, Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and ruins upon ruins. It was Eat, Pray, Love as it ought to be.

Now we're in Albania. It's the wild west here. A living example of what happens when a country attempts to embrace both Communism and Islam at the same time. But God is stirriing this nation. Much more to write about that, but I'm out of time.

So We Finally Get To Paris

Twenty years ago, I proposed to my childhood sweetheart, Traci. We were 18 and 19 when we got married. I remember the euphoria of being so blissfully in love that the rest of the world and the people in it seemed like extras in our movie. We wanted to go to Paris for our honeymoon, but only got as far as New Braunfels, TX. It didn't matter, because we would be going on our five year anniversary, then our ten, then our.... and it never happened. Until now.

The past three years have been the most challenging of our lives. As I write this, my son walks in the room fumbling around for something he left here. My daughter comes in and leaps onto the foot of the bed with a tenderly authoritative, "Hey ol chum." And Traci walks in from the bathroom and smiles at me. That smile, for me, represents life. It injects creative energy into my slumbering heart. Her head tilts and her eyes grin. I have always loved her, but today it's different. Her love has walked, carried, and occasionally dragged me through the darkest moments of my life. She has seen my darkness, and she loves me still. And I'm compelled to know, to understand, to wonder, if I haven't touched the tangible grace of God in her goodness. Don't get me wrong. She can be tough and beautiful as mahogany, with a fire that is ninja fierce inside of her. But she absolutely fights for love. And she has lived, spoken, held, breathed, sang, written, and carried the kindness and heart of God. In watching her care for children, cry over the hurting, and give to those in need, I love God more. If I spend the rest of my life loving her back, I will still die a debtor to her.

So it's with that 18 year old's euphoric bliss that I am taking her to Paris, France in less than 36 hrs. We (the whole family) will be together, at the top of the Eifel Tower, getting lost in the alleys, eating pastries in a bistro, having coffee by a fountain, and renewing our vows on the steps of Notre Dame. That's the tradition. The kings would say their vows on the steps and cross the threshold to solidify their covenant. There have been more than a few times in my life where I felt like a pauper. She refuses to let me be anything other than a king. It's all she sees, and when I see what she sees, the favor on my life increases. Tonight, my family is together, my wife is beside me, and our awareness of the presence of Love is greater than it's been in twenty years of marriage. After 20 years of humming "So We Never Got To Paris", I guess this weekend I'm going to get to stop.

"Seek My Face"

Sitting at home tonight, quiet peace, silence and solitude, pondering the invitation of Jesus, "Seek My face." Putting pencil to paper to try to capture the face of Christ is something I have long avoided, until tonight, and this is what emerged. Completely original, completely from the eye of mind and heart. I'm rarely so moved while drawing. I only wish I had filmed it.

While sorrow is not compassion, I think there's often an element of sorrow in compassion. Just as remorse is not repentance, but there is an element of remorse within repentance. Compassion is the focused gaze from the eyes of Grace just before you are taken by the hand and led out into joy. It is a Love that empowers your freedom. This piece contains, in a gently nuanced symmetry of microexpression, so many emotions that reflect the nature of the purity, grace, and goodness of a holy God who is more familiar with us than we would care to admit. And He loves...

Passeggiata

I'm not sure what it is about taking a walk in the afternoon sun. When my feet move, my thoughts move too. There aren't a lot of problems that can't be solved in the process of a long walk. It's like that place between sleep and awake, the place where dreams appear to have a measure of possibility and fresh meditations make their way to the head of a long line of routine thoughts. When I can't put my finger on a solution, I put my feet to the earth, and in time, the path becomes clear.


Now shall I walk
or shall I ride?
"Ride," Pleasure said:
"Walk," Joy replied.
~W.H. Davies

"Everywhere is within walking distance, if you have enough time." Steven Wright

So We Never Got To Paris

Just wait.....

19 years new

I don’t remember not knowing Traci. We met at the tender age of five. I’m not sure if the word ‘tender’ applies to us though. We came from two very different worlds. I was born to missionary/evangelists which meant that my home had either wheels or wings and I was in church more nights than not. She grew up in a mobile home with a couple of cool Austin hippies. I remember hanging out at Traci’s while a scratchy record of Peter Frampton played in the background. She remembers coming to our trailer where we had the Gaithers rocking the hi fi.

My parents moved into this old Austin trailer park and the one open spot they had was near my future wife. Thus we were next door neighbors in this low budget commune in a time when Star Wars was still in the theater, old bicycles were learning to be ridden, and disco was having its five minutes of cool. We grew up as friends, best friends, and a pure childlike love grew into me proposing to her on a cool February night in downtown Austin.

So there you have it. We met, grew up writing letters, shared a love of God and mission, and got married at the tender age of 18. I’m still not sure the word ‘tender’ applies to us though, because after a couple of years of Bible College we signed on to help plant a church. And there’s nothing tender about birthing a church. It wasn’t the only thing birthed at the time. We had two amazing kids during the 90’s. It’s funny how some dramatic adjective is expected when one talks about his kids. If it’s there, as in “amazing kids”, it sounds trite. If it’s not, as in “...kids”, it sounds cold. Either way, it’s lousy writing. But in this case, our son and daughter absolutely exemplify the requirements necessary to warrant the term “amazing”. They are, without question, two of the coolest humans we’ve ever known.

Austin was home, is home, and has a piece of our heart, but there’s a mission that we’ve been called to that is consuming. We love empowering people to reach a destiny that enables them to live out the dream on God’s heart. You know the Scripture, Jeremiah 29:11, on that refrigerator magnet that you got in that sympathy gift that one time? “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” God has dreams about you that the enemy, life, circumstances, the choices of others, and the choices you regret, have all conspired to tattoo an indelible “disqualified” on your heart and soul. But the Spirit can never be disqualified and He’s been given to you as a gift of grace. You are the highest imagination of God in history, the greatest dream of God realized. It is who you become when you submit to the voice of his Holy Spirit that ultimately determines your identity, and that’s what we want people to see. Traci has seen it in me and refuses to see anything differently. And that’s the heart of love, when you remind people of who they are when they themselves have forgotten. It’s our heart that the body of Christ become the empowering force, fueled by love, that launches people into their destiny, the destiny that is the dream of God.

Trying to Want

When He won't grant what I think is good, I become vulnerable to take that which is not.

I still look at my dad's condition (unable to communicate through speech) and think, "54 years devoting your life and voice to exalt this extravagant One who gives life abundantly and this is how it goes down at the end? Or how about spending your life giving more than you've received to act as a conduit of heaven releasing provision to others? Now himself left with very little? The retirement plan for this job needs a tweaking." But then I realize that it's never been a job to him, nor does he seem to wrestle with one day of regret for the beauty that the relationship has brought to His eternity. The blessings through his eyes are more prevalent than the curses through mine. He won't embrace any curse as a gift, neither will he allow it to taint the gift itself, which has always been Him. Just Him.

And right now, that's all I'm trying to want.

The Skeleton and the Treasure

Questions are the barely to the side of the sweet spot ricochet off the bat that becomes a pop fly into center field where as a boy I waited. Feeling the blood run cold then hot through my suddenly knotted legs cocked like the hammer of a gun, I stared into the sky squinting to find the dot hiding within the suns intensity. Catching it would be a victory forgotten. Dropping it would be an error remembered. I don't remember a single catch. I remember vividly every drop. As the mystery unfolds, wisdom increases, experience stacks up for better or worse, questions are sun blinded pop flies or scorching line drives that collectively come like a tsunami. The spray from the tidal wave that makes me squint and moistens my lips before the wall that follows knocks me from my steady footing, of wisdom, of compassion, of faith, of family, of love. They never stop, like the ticker at the bottom of the newscast, and sometimes I just have to choose to look away. Because unless the answers affect choice that produces productive action, they just torment you. Questions are neither right nor wrong, but rather are the shovel that penetrates the carefully nurtured landscape of your world to uncover the treasure, or the skeleton, or the skeleton holding the treasure, beneath the surface of who you think you are. And all they want, is to know, and so do I.

Creating an Empowering Culture

In Ephesians 4, Paul gives what may be the greatest key to regional transformation in all of Scripture and to turn the key on a transformational engine and create a momentum is the unique calling of every ministry. It's the missional invitation to create an empowering culture that releases people into their destiny. When ministries come together in this, it doesn't affect who they are or the uniqueness of their call. They, in fact, move from control to empowerment and in that there is an organic exchange of life that can leave an entire region transformed.

Paul states in Ephesians 4:11 the familiar passage identifying what has come to be known as the five fold ministry, in essence, describing a multifunctional leadership structure that, much like the five fingers on a hand, exists for the purpose of equipping others to work. I want to be clear on a personal point here and that is this. I believe that the works of the ministry are not merely service projects that require no supernatural intervention. 1 John 2:6 says, "If any claim to live in Christ he must walk just as He walked." One of the meanings of the word "walk" there is "to demonstrate ability". 1 John 4:17 says, "...as He is so are we in this world." and in John 20: 21 Jesus Himself says, "As the Father sent me, so I send you." Jesus, in John 14:12, says that we who are joined to Him in this relationship of love would do the works He did and greater. So the works that the Body of Christ are equipped to do is far beyond merely causing the church to look like the Red Cross. There will always be a need for service ministry and the Body ought to be on the front line of that because the church carries the heart of the One who is love. But beyond that, it must be that a follower of Christ presses into what reason has deemed impossible to the extent that without God's intervention you will most certainly fail. (See Matt 10:8) When people believe that all things are possible, then you have an empowering culture and an empowered people. The benefits to this culture, according to Paul, are four absolutely stunning realities of the Kingdom of God.

UNITY OF THE FAITH. The creation of unity has been an elusive prize that leaders salivate to attain through, ironically, programatic control. This kind of leadership shuns empowerment because it has the potential to start a fire that goes beyond one man's ability to control it. Jesus empowered a handful of people that defied the logical stereotype of a qualified church leadership team and empowered them to turn the world upside down. And they did. If we are to re-present Jesus Christ in equipping the saints, then we'll recognize the treasure in the broken, and release people to love and serve trusting in the Spirit of the resurrected Christ to empower them to love just as He has empowered you.

THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE SON OF GOD. Paul started out the letter to the Ephesians by praying that God would grant them a spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him (Eph 1:17) There is this striving to know Him more through academic instruction that exalts theology (the study of God) over theophany (the appearance of God). But revelation is far superior to mere information. The understanding of something is not a prerequisite for experiencing it. When my daughter was four she couldn't explain love, but she could absolutely experience the reality of it. Your inability to explain everything about God is not a hinderance in your ability to encounter and experience His presence, power, and love. And it's often in the experience that there is a new measure of understanding.

MATURITY. Jesus said that if you want to experience the Kingdom, you have to become as a child and a child has the capacity to experience that which they cannot yet explain. We have come to believe that maturity is intellectual enlightenment reaching a level to which we are free from deception. But that would actually be the result of this verse (Eph 4:13), not the cause of it. You'll actually find that specific benefit in verse 14, so then that can't be what he's talking about by maturity here because this comes before that. An empowered people are not empowered to think but to act. When people see their faith come alive in the works of Christ being released through their hands, it produces a childlike trust in the goodness of God. Empowered people are both mature and childlike, and one does not exist without the other.

TO THE MEASURE OF THE FULLNESS WHICH BELONGS TO THE STATURE OF CHRIST. Do you see what's possible? The fullness of Christ being represented in the people of God who are empowered to become every bit as glorious as God intended. In John 17 Jesus prays that we would be one just as the Father, Spirit, and Son are one. if the body carries the heart and acts so as to reflect the thoughts of the "Head" which is Christ, then the life that flows must give movement and freedom to the people that make up that body. You can adopt your dorm all and prayer walk it. You can adopt a corner on your campus and make it a place of prayer for you, asking God to reveal the hidden treasure in every person walking by. As favor and love increases in you, don't be shocked when you find yourself in and exchange of life giving words that results in healing, wholeness, deliverance, and salvation to another, who then you are equipped to empower.

I've probably set a record for the number of times the word "empower" is used in an article, but that's ok. But as the days of programmed systems of control come to a close, it would probably be a good idea to get used to the word. After all, it was Jesus Christ's method of turning the world upside down.

Hanging with friends in Miami...

In the downtime, there is no shortage of music.

Shift

My right shift key never gets used. When I was learning to type, I had broken my right pinky finger. It healed up, but I never got used to using that finger. Moral of the story. If you don't utilize the broken, you'll miss some good keys.

Most people are broken somewhere. Interesting that Jesus took people as they were and used the creative power of experience to teach and equip them. Empowering people isn't an option if unity and the the fullness of Christ are of any value to you at all. In Ephesians 4:11-13 there's this line of thought that I'll paraphrase. The gifts of Christ, Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, Teachers are given to equip the church to do the works that give evidence to the faith we all claim. When that happens, we become unified,

Theophany

I'm pondering the Kingdom truth that it's the kindness of God that leads to repentance. Modern theology has trained us to believe that it's the repentance of man that accesses the kindness of God, giving religion cause to create an obstacle course painting the Father's embrace as the finish line, when in fact, we run the race in the Father's arms, and therein lies freedom.

Truth: All have sinned... Romans 3:23

Truth: All are justified... Romans 3:24
Truth: God does not count your sins against you. 2 Cor 5:16-20.
It's called the "Ministry of Reconciliation".
Truth: That is the ministry that we are all called into. 2 Cor 5:16-20)

Its God's authority, not man's activity, that assigns man's identity. Our mandate is to agree with His destiny for man to be conformed into the image of Christ, calling out the treasure in earthen vessels.

If I cannot do this, I cannot love, (nor can I claim to love) like Christ. And without love, you can have theology (the study of God) but you will not have theophany (the appearance of God) for there are two things without which we are nothing. God and Love, and those two are one.

The heart of the revivalist is calling the church to radical love, and seems to be asking the question, what is the boundary line you have drawn which, if a person crosses, will disqualify them from your love? Grace is the revelation that sin doesn't have the power to dictate to God how He will love or accept you. Mercy is God's embrace of the guilty, and thankfully it triumphs over judgement.

Moment-um

The apex second
The iridescent blink
Behind me a door closed
An origin fading into forgotten
A life now marked in decades
Well worn the soles
That carry my alternating steps
Striding toward the door marked exit
Which some days appears
Closer than others

And in this stroll
Between the doors
There are moments
Where breath
And step
And breeze
And blink
And beat
And sun
And warm
And spray
And rain
And dawn
And dusk
And touch
And taste
And sight
And scent
And sound
And Spirit
Converge and create

That apex second

Love's perfection
Fear's demise
Joy's leap

That a universe filled with currency
Could not purchase

The Sigh of Heaven

That which reason cannot destroy does not itself need a reason to exist. Love is such for it exists unto itself without reason and is, quite often, unreasonable. Thus the question 'why' goes unanswered except for the audible sigh of the lover's unreasonable heart, wrapped warmly within the fabric of mystery. It is the sigh of Heaven that embraces the soul.

Healer

An excerpt from the new book/film, "Healer", by Bill and Britain
------------------

I know blood. I know its smell, its taste, its consistency. The way blood thickens when exposed to air and time. The way its shiny wet red turns to dull dry brown. The way it moves like water when it’s thin, and the warmth it maintains as it flows from within your skin to carve a pattern upon your face, your brow, your back, your hand. I love watching people’s reaction to the sight of blood. That’s intoxicating for me and I find myself left with an often inappropriate uncontrollable grin that I’ll try to erase quickly. Horror, surprise, sympathy, and the ever present cringe. Everyone’s cringe is unique. For some their cringe is out and out nausea. For the tough it’s a barely wrinkled crows foot in one eye. Some people cross their arms covering their elbows. Some find a place to sit clutching their legs behind the knees. Some just cover their faces leaving small parts between their fingers because they just can’t look away. I think it’s because watching the reality of what’s happening is actually better than the horror they imagine when they close their eyes. That’s why the people who can actually turn away and feel better about what they can’t see may be the pure in heart, or at least mind. When the horror of reality is more tame than the mind’s capacity to conjure imaginary gore, you may need a therapist.

Some reactions have a soundtrack. It may sound like a nervous laugh, a hiss as air is sucked through clenched teeth, or an expletive that both cuts and enhances the tension. It’s cut because it articulates what everyone’s thinking when they see the person before them become a leaking biohazard who is not to be envied. It’s enhanced because, depending on the expletive, a degree of seriousness has now been implied to the situation. It’s the screaming reaction that I can’t handle. That and a crying child. I hate the thought that a child may witness something in this moment that marks their psyche for life, rendering them speechless and incoherent for the duration of the trauma.

But personally, for me, It’s all about the pain. I’m not sure which is worse. The pain of a blade slicing through flesh, or the pain of an ache in your heart. No, it’s much deeper than that. The soul? Still not deep enough. Yet there’s this need, this appetite, because my pain can take away someone else’s. It’s strange how this gift turns you into a philosopher, and what is a philosopher except a person with more questions than can be answered in a thousand lifetimes? And I have questions. Lots of them.