Archive for the ‘recent’ Category

A Strange Revelation


2011
03.31

Tonight it hit me for the first time. I define myself by what I do for a living. I have no idea who I am apart from my job. To separate myself from my job would be to lose myself. I don’t really know what this strange revelation means or even know what I do with this information. But I do know this-

I am not what I do.

But what I don’t know is-

Who am I?

Perception in the present


2011
03.15

“Faith is saying I choose to believe in you, God, more than this or that tragedy. I throw myself in utter dependence on you-you alone, a God who specializes in resurrections, a God who brings hope to the hopeless, a God who is a father to the fatherless, a God who was willing to send your Son to a cross to prove you are more powerful than the worst thing evil could do”
- Pete wilson

Wish I believed that more than I do. God I know you have my heart and know it better than I do. I know that right now you seem to be unfaithful, unloving, unjust, and distant because of the circumstances I stand in. My heart is burdened beyond measure but I’m trying to choose to know that my circumstances seem to say one thing about you but time and time again your character has proven to be opposite of what I perceive in the present. I know that your character is always faithful, all-loving, unbelievably just, and near to the brokenhearted.

I want to trust your character and not what my circumstances say about you. Help me.

Never Say Never


2011
03.14

There are many times that I look into what I presume my future would look like and I think to my self ‘I would never do that/ I would never say that’. Well as they say…Never Say Never (oh the many levels of irony in that phrase right now) here are a few current things on my list that were former ‘nevers’

- never thought I’d live in Texas
- never thought I’d still be single at 28
- never thought I’d be super grateful for being single at 28
- never thought I would still have friends that are in high school when I am well past high school
- never thought I’d be the only guy with tats working on a church staff
- never thought I’d work for a church again
- never thought I’d own a house
- never thought my dreams would change over and over again
- never thought I’d be called the “guy in tune with the holy spirit”
- never thought I’d listen to Justin Bieber and enjoy it
- never thought id be the guy to go to for books
- never thought id join a subscription to a company that sends me books regularly
- never thought I’d find reading pleasurable
- never thought I would think that sending pics of teen idols would be something I would consider a part of discipleship on occasion
- never thought I’d go shopping for a Miley Cyrus poster as a gift for someone over the age of 7
- never thought I’d get up and dance and sing in front of people willingly
- never thought the best part of my week would be at 6am on Sunday mornings
- never thought id be called the guy who can rock any style
- never thought I’d meet a girl that made sushi and target outings into fun adventures and feel natural.
- never ever considered going to graduate school
- never thought I’d associate with Liberty university
- never thought I would have an office that contained: a toilet seat, a shrine to CBU recruitment, a Justin bieber folder, snuffy the giraffe/dragon, a stars t-shirt, a 2+ year old tortilla in a frame, Justin bieber devotional books, a newspaper article on the wall, a bowling pin, a homemade-movie movie poster, paintball medal, Taylor swift calendar, a christian energy drink, a picture of a peacock
- never thought the phrase “I’m living the bieber movie” would come out of my mouth
- never thought I’d own and love a Mac
- never thought a post like this would make me laugh and smile

Like they say…

Never Say Never

The Color of My Soul


2011
03.02

So for the next couple of weeks Brad and I are letting some of the guys in our dgroup lead the lesson. We have let them have the sky as the limit. Yesterday one of the guys showed up with crayons, paper, and took us to BW3. His instructions were simple- color what your soul feels like.

If you know Spencer, but dont really know Spencer, the idea would seem strange.  Spenc is a 6-foot-something chunk of football muscle, so needless to say this guy is tough. But those who know Spencer know that he can be an extremely compassionate guy. He is like his dad (who is a guy aspire to be like in a lot of ways), in the fact that he could easily kill you with his pinky finger, but is a big soft teddy bear on the inside. I love how even though i know that about him it still can catch me by surprise sometimes when he breaks the typical football stereotype.

He did a great job leading the discussion following everyone sharing their pictures. I was proud of him and thankful for him making us be real and vulnerable as we colored, but balanced it with the manliness of eating wings. Great job dude!

The flip side of all this—I am not an artist at all, but somehow i was totally engaged in this activity and enjoyed it. I use the term enjoyed loosely, i liked the concept, but not the process. Not because it wasnt a good idea, but because I dont enjoy things i cant do well (ok perfectly…but Im working on lowering my standards for myself, but I’ll save those speculations for another blog) and as I said I am not an artist.

All this said, i did engage with the idea and immediately following the instructions I actually had a visual representation of the color of my soul. The final product wasnt exactly what I pictured because i simply lack the skills needed, but it is a lot closer than any other art endeavor Ive had.

The night ended with me dodging a lot of the specific questions asked, and it was obvious and noted by the group. But its kind of the norm these days and right now I am okay with that. Then I sent the picture and story to Chad, because it seemed like something he would appreciate. The funny thing is that the image has stuck with me through the night and well into this new day…not sure why. hmmm…

Process in Song


2011
02.28

Not much to say. I just got back from my mini-vacation to Port Aransas. It was fun and had an interesting dynamic. I normally vacation by myself. it is one of the huge benefits of being a single guy. I do what I want, when I want, where I want. But this time I was with a family of extroverts and I am an most definitely an introvert. So it was fun trying to find ways to process amidst these circumstances.

For whatever reason I found that music was a big part of my processing and limited alone time. There were certain songs for various reasons that really seemed to resonate with me in different ways. So here is a list of songs that were part of the process…

*disclaimer: I know I have bad taste in music. I am fully aware that my itunes track list more closely resembles that of a middle school girl than a 20-something guy. I personally blame it on KISS fm’s limited music variety and since it is my station of choice, I am ok with the resulting “ipod of embarrassment”. With all that said, since I am aware of the embarrassment factor of the list below please keep your musical judgments to yourself, because honestly I dont care if arcade fire is musically superior to Justin Bieber, i still think arcade fire sounds like gibberish with a beat that a hobo on the street corner makes with his 10 gallon pickle tub. And no matter how hard you try and no matter what you say I will still remain the pop culture/music whore that already am…and I am okay with it. Thank you

oh yeah and they arent in any certain order

Words-Ryan Adams
When I’m Gone- Eminem
When a Heart Breaks- Ben Rector
Raising the Dead- Caedmons Call
Center Aisle- Caedmons Call
Gone are the Days- Nicole Nordeman
Talking to Myself- Eminem
Unwell- Matchbox 20
Expectations- Caedmons Call
I Just dont Want Coffee- Caedmons Call
You Answer Me- Jennifer Knapp
Kody- Matchbox 20
Pray- Justin Bieber
Help Me Believe- Nicole Nordeman
Love Alone- Caedmons Call
When I Look at You- Miley Cyrus

Everyone has a story pt.2


2011
02.12

“I hate surprises”, I mumble as I head towards the garage. Barely awake and grumpy, I grabbed my keys and fumbled my way into my car. You see, Wednesday’s are my ‘favorite’ day of the week. It’s the day we do our ministry staff meeting and as with most people I’m not a fan of meetings. Today was different- we were doing a staff fun day but they wouldn’t tell us what we were doing which took the fun out of staff fun day for me.

I get in the drivers seat and as I shake the sleep from my eyes I noticed the fuel light on. “Crap! I knew I should’ve filled that up last night”. I give the clock the evil eye as though it was at fault that I had to go to the gas station. “I guess I have time” ,I thought to myself, “but I’m getting doughnuts and orange juice.

Driving down the road the sun gently warms my face which makes me smile a little. I turn into the gas station a little less annoyed but my stomach gently grumbles a small reminder that I am hungry. I get the gas pump set up and I make my way inside.

I scour the shelves and quickly find my breakfast of choice. I make my way to the counter there was only one other person in front of me. So I let out a little sigh because the only thing I hate more than a meeting is waiting in line (unless it’s at Disneyland haha) Time was not yet urgent but was close enough that it needed to be considered. As I stand there I notice that this person’s purchase is taking an abnormally long time. I give my best evil glare to the back of the head in front of me so that somehow my brainwaves will send a burning signal into theirs in hopes that they might move a little more quickly. Suddenly I notice that the guy in front of me has adopted the same impatient stance I am wearing. I then realize my evil brainwave glare of doom is misdirected. My eyes adjust and focus past the head in front of me and moves beyond the counter and fixates on the day dreaming gas attendant person (or GAP). “Oh great”, I mutter with frustration that oddly matches the frustration level of the sighing done by the guy in front of me.

GAP is a tall lanky fellow with dark shaggy hair. His skin an olive-ish color that is just mysterious enough in tone that his ethnicity wasn’t familiar to the catalog of my mind. I stare down his every move which were few and slow. He would make one active step at a time to getting his customer out the door but he would pause between each step to gaze out the window. With each pause my jaw would tighten as to keep my tongue from screaming at him to move quicker. The tighter my jaw became the tighter my eyes would squint and focus on his movements or lack there of in this case.

After what seemed to be a 5-10 minute eternity of waiting. The guy in front of me exits the scene. I approach the counter walking a little taller in attempt to show the seriousness of my crumb doughnuts and off brand orange juice purchase. I was not about to let GAP waste my time like he did the guy before me. I confidently set my purchase on the counter and look up to see the now familiar picture of GAP gazing out the window. Thats when I feel it…i feel my mind fill with all the things I was going to say, the way I was cutting him down as a person for his poor work ethic, judgments on the lack of anything interesting that could be stared at for that long out the window. The more and more I plot the verbal battle in my mind the more my face begins to flush with frustration and I can feel my jaw beginning to loosen ready to let all my words flee the cage I’ve locked them in. “doesn’t he know I am headed for a staff fun day”, I think to myself.

Simultaneously i realize the ridiculousness of my accusation and the absurdity of my sudden rush to be somewhere I didn’t want to be. I shake my head a little as to shake loose the thought I just had. I look back up and GAP is starting to turn towards me for the first time since I approached the counter and I’m trying to formulate my first words to begin our verbal battle but all I can think is “remember PAL. Everyone has a story”.

My went blank, jaw unclenched, and demeanor changed. Over and over again, as GAP began to punch the buttons on the register, I could only think ” everyone has a story. Everyone has a story. Everyone has a story.” All that i had prepared for this moment was gone and I went with the only thing I knew, “so, how has your day been? You having a good morning?” The phrase was glib and trite but it was genuinely asked. GAP again turned his attention outside once more, but this time I looked with him and for the first time I saw something more than cars and gas pumps. I finally saw what was abnormal in that picture and what I assumed might be holding GAP’s attention. There was a strange man outside taking pictures of the gas station. “That’s a strange tourist, I can think of some more exciting things to see in fort worth than a gas station” my lame joke made it hard for me to even fake a laugh. But little did I realize as the the words fumbled out of my mouth that I had stumbled upon GAP’s story.

GAP finally spoke…mainly mumbles that were hard to understand as his mouth turned back and forth between me and the window. But what I did quickly recognize was his tone of concern. GAP wasnt daydreaming he was worried. Through his low tones I gathered that some accident had taken place with the gas station and the strange man outside and GAP had been unsuccessful in removing the man from the property and now the man was preparing to file a lawsuit against the gas station (thus the picture taking). GAPs every gaze outside was one of wonder and concern. It seemed as though the outcome of the whole situation rested on his shoulders so it was no wonder work was hard for him to concentrate on. I would have felt the same way had it been me.

As our time together at the counter came to a close, GAP kinda smiled and said that the guy really didn’t have a case. I smiled and assured him that everything would turn out fine. I left kicking myself for quickly judging GAP and frustrated at my selfishness and ability to quickly forget what I learned from PAL. As I got back in my car I prayed that God would open my eyes to see the people around me and be aware that they each have their stories. I prayed that he would help me seek out their stories and love them like he loved them. Little did I know that this prayer would begin to shape my next few weeks.

It’s a bold prayer but I ask are you too selfish to spend the time to find out what people’s stories are? They are there just waiting to be discovered are you willing to take the time?

Everyone Has a Story pt.1


2011
01.20

*(side note- this is a blog post(series of posts) I began 12/15/10 which was 2 days before the winter retreat and after I got back from the trip stuff got rough and I had decided to scrap the idea, but today I was prompted to continue the draft that was saved. hope you enjoy)*

She raised her suspicious eyebrow at me again as I handed her my parking slip. My head lowered and eyes barely making contact with hers and with a quivering voice I said “I am a youth pastor I was visiting a student in the ICU”. All indicators in my behavior would make it seem as though I was lying, but it was the truth. My tattered jeans, t-shirt, and crazy hair only offered more proof in the case she had built against me in the court of her mind. Her gaze pronounced me guilty yet she was reluctant to hand out the sentencing. This trial has occurred the same way as it had the day before and the day before that and the one before that. This is what my week had consisted of every time I left Harris downtown hospital. In fact I had each moment of this interaction memorized down to the dramatic pause at the end of our conversation before she opened the gate and would tell me in a cold tone “drive safe out there”. But in my heart I was waiting for the sentence to be handed out.

There are not many ‘perks’ to being a pastor, but one of the few that exist is free parking at the hospital. The month of November made me grateful for that perk because for two weeks straight I was up at the hospital at least once a day if not twice. That would have added up to one shiny little penny that would have come out of my already shallow pockets. However, the parking attendant lady (aka my P.A.L.) struck fear into me. I was waiting for the day when she would bang the gavel and say “youre not a pastor. Now pay for your PARKING!!’ (It would totally be in that ominous echo-y bad-guy tone too and definitely with lightning and a thunderclap in the background). You could tell that PAL didnt believe me whenever I told her I was a pastor and to say that I was seeing her a lot right now would be an understatement. There were even times i considered just paying as to avoid the situation all together.

But one day it I was determined to take down PAL’s inquisitive eyebrow down a notch. I was going to drive up to that booth with confidence and try and make her smile somehow. “After all”, i thought to myself, “everyone has a story”. Maybe she doesn’t like her job or she is bored. I need to find a way to make her day better. Little did i know that later that day i would find my ‘in’.

At this point the student who was in ICU was a little more stabilized and we were all simply waiting to find out the extent of the damage done to his brain. We knew there were rips, but none of us knew how this was going to effect him long-term. We feared the worst, prayed for the best, but we all collectively sat somewhere in between…waiting. Waiting for some sign, some hope, or some simple response to a simple command, but there was nothing simple about this situation at all.

“Hey Eron, youve been waiting for a while today, why dont you go back and see him for a little bit. I think only Nadine is back there”. The calm voice of his dad spoke to me with more hope than I had expected and had snapped me out of my reflective daze. I shook off my sub-conscious fears for the moment and walked down the cold sterile hallway. “Dont cry, dont cry, dont cry” is all that swam through the confusion of emotion inside my head. I dont cry often and was not about to cry in front of Nadine.

Nadine is a strong woman, not is build or in stature, but in character. She is a pediatric nurse and has seen her fair share of ‘hospital stuff’. Ive seen a lot, but it still phases me- nothing…i mean nothing can phase nurse Nadine. I walk into the room to see Nadine holding the student’s hand. My hands in my pocket and my eyes steady and focused in order that i avoid crying. We begin the typical awkward hospital small talk as to avoid the elephant of the 16 year old boy who laid in the center of the ICU room. Whom at this point we both had our hands on his; Nadine at his right and I at his left. Our visit was nearing its end and Nadine began to speak to the student one last time. She was pleading on behalf of her daughter who was unable to visit him that day, “please give me something good to tell Heidi”, she begged. “I’ll take anything, how about a smile? Can you give me a big classic smile of yours?” I glanced at Nadine and gave a half-hearted smile which spoke my sub-text loud and clear. It was clearly saying, “thats a sweet request and though I wish he could do it, we both know he wont”. Then my eyes slide downward at the student as to give him my goodbye. But as Nadine continued to ask the impossible, suddenly the sound of sheets rustling caught my attention just enough to know I shouldnt say goodbye just yet. My half-hearted smile became full-blown shock as I watched the student’s sleepy head turn towards Nadine, eyes still closed, but his mouth open wide with a smile as big as can be. He flashed his pearly whites for only a moment before his head rolled back onto his pillow, but it was just enough to send Nadine and I into a whirlwind of excitement. We laughed, we cheered, and we rushed to the waiting room to tell the story to everyone. This was big news and I think we told the story 5 or 6 times before we left that night.

I got in my car giddy from the night’s events. So much so that i had forgotten about my pending court-date with PAL. I bounced in the seat of my car as I drove down the winding path of the parking garage excited to tell anyone i could get on the phone to listen about what just happened. But I couldnt get anyone to answer. As I made the final turn and PAL’s booth came into view, i remembered my vow to make her smile I had made that morning. I didnt know if it would work but telling her this story was the only idea I had.

I drove up to her booth and as I approached, our eyes locked in a gaze of familiarity, I knew her, she knew me, but it didnt phase me this time. I feared I was going to hold up traffic and in a hurried tone that sounded as though I had just finished wind sprints, I asked if I could tell her a story. I was trying to write the typical pastoral information that was required on my parking slip in order to get the free parking. “you know how I have been here a lot lately”, I began. Her weathered face and piercing gaze seemed colder than ever as she remained silent. ” Well you see, like a week ago a student of mine…well I am a youth pastor at a church…” I kept stumbling over my words, partly because I was scared of her and partly because I didnt want to hold up traffic any more than I already was. “I am sorry this is taking so long I dont want to hold up all the…” I glanced in the rear view mirror only to see a total of zero cars behind me. PAL’s face shifted from cold and uncaring to cold, uncaring, with a hint of oh my gosh this guy is insane. “Oh…my bad I thought there were other cars behind me”, I chuckled nervously as PAL was still silent. “Anyway, let me tell you about this student.” I began to tell her the whole story of what had happened. From the accident, to the fears of the unknown, and finally to that night’s smile.

Then what occurred could only be described as what my high school theater teacher called a ‘pregnant pause’. PAL said nothing. She mulled over all the words I had i said. The wrinkles on her face seemed to not even move an inch as she tilted her head to the sky for a second. Then her blue eyes hidden behind her glasses locked with mine once more. She raised her hands to the sides of her face, grabbed her cheeks, and with what seemed to be a flood of youth that filled her eyes like i had never seen, she gasped. “I just love to hear about miracles.”

In that moment everything I thought I knew about PAL had changed. She didnt hate me or her job. She just had a story behind her cold glances, she wanted someone…anyone…to tell her the story of a miracle. She didnt care if it was a complete stranger, she just wanted someone to share their story. It makes sense if you think about it. She works at a hospital, a lot of bad things happen there, but so do a lot of good things. Miracles happen their everyday. Peoples lives are saved, babies are born, cancers are cured and all the while PAL is serving the happy and grumpy ‘park-ers’ each and everyday and just longed to hear some of the good that was happening inside while she sat in her cramped booth.

Every day after that I made sure I shared with PAL any thing that happened inside that hospital room no matter how little it seemed. I no longer was greeted with a cold stare, but instead was welcomed with warm and inviting eyes. Her eyebrows still raised inquisitively, but now it was because she was curious as to what happened in that ICU room and was waiting for that day’s miracle and I was eager to share.

PAL is only 1 of the hundreds of people I encounter on a regular basis. I am often in such a hurry I dont stop and think about the stories they have or why they do what they do. Instead I just get scared of the mean parking attendant lady, or get mad at the starbucks barista who messed up my drink, or dismiss the seemingly incompetent driver as an idiot because they cut me off while they were in a hurry. But each of those people have a story. they have a motivation as to why they are doing something or not doing something and we pass by and dont care to try and find out their story. Who are those people with whom you interact and quickly dismiss their behavior as irrational? Find out their stories and share your own. You’ll be surprised at what you discover.