Another Voice
In recent days I've been in commuication with the midwest church multiplication director in the
Missionary Church about an exciting church planting initiative in Kansas City & St. Louis Missouri. Their dream is to see 10 churches started in Kansas City and 20 churches started in St. Louis over the next few years.
We've been dialoguing between his sessions at a training conference in South Dakota. While attending that conference he wrote about one the sessions in his blog. As I read his blog entry I thought to myself how refreshing it was to hear another voice articulating what I've been feeling for many months now about how to make disciples and expand the Kingdom in America these days.
Here's the link to his post.
I love what is being said here.
What The World Needs
"Ask not what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, because what the world needs most is people who are fully alive."
Updates From Home
Every day I check the blog from the church we planted in Illinois to hear the stories of how God is continuing the work we began. This morning I logged in to see pictures of the move into their new building. God is faithful! He has provided them with a new facility RENT FREE nearer to the university campus. I can't wait to hear the stories from this new chapter in the life of the church.
It's been wonderful over the months since our departure to see how smoothly the pastoral transition has gone and to see how God is bringing new people into the congregation. One of the most exciting things for me to watch from a distance is how God is moving in the hearts of several youth from a substance abuse recovery group home.
One of the greatest indicators of God's presence in a church plant is the way in which it continues after the founding pastor has moved on. It's a good feeling to see that the church wasn't built on one man, but built on the foundation of the ever-present God.
I love you Prairie folks!! Congratulations on your move.
One Of Those Dreams
I'm a pretty active dreamer in my sleep. A week or so ago I had one of those dreams from which you awake thinking to yourself, "There's something significant about that dream."
It went something like this:
My wife and I were in some sort of cage, like a shark cage, but we were floating and bobbing on the water in the ocean. A wave picked us up and as we were on the crest of the wave I looked down and saw where the wave was going to drop us. There were about 6 or 7 sharks circling in the spot we were descending towards. Panicked, I looked behind me to see another wave coming, but this one was much larger. At the crest of that wave was a cage just like ours, but inside this one was a group of people I recognized as our close friends. The wave they were riding swept us up and carried us up and over the circling sharks. I looked ahead and though we had passed safely over the sharks we were heading for a cliff face at incredible speed. I began fearing the impact of hiting the cliff face, but just as we came upon it the wave dropped us and we stopped. I woke up as we were bobbing gently in the water.Though the dream is strange, it was one of those times that you wake up with a "knowing" that there was something significant about it.
From A Distant Friend
I just read this from the blog of a brief and distant friend 10 years in the past. His words resonated with me this morning. I thought I'd share them here.
"I’m thirty-seven-- old enough to be thought of as a grown up. It wasn’t long ago that I made a similar entrance into the world. My brain fused with the waking world and I started walking around, talking about things as if I knew something. None of us knows anything. Our existence is a wonder. Anyone who has gotten used to his own existence is already dead."~Kirby Atkins; Jackson, TN
The Southern Cross
Every year I have the privilege of traveling to South America to assist with a construction project in the small rainforest village of Ixiamas, Bolivia. It's getting close...a little over two months away and I find myself thinking more and more about the people there that I've grown to know and love. There's something amazing about rolling into town in the back of a truck after being away for a year and having children run to the road, point, wave, and then call out your name, "Hola Guillermo! Hola Guillermo!"
This year we'll be building the third floor of a boarding house we've been working on for about five years now. On my first trip, it was just a shell of a one-story building. I helped lay the flooring. Now there are over 40 students from distant villages living here and getting an education.
Something about this trip that I will remember as long as I live is the sky at night. What you see of the universe from the darkness of the rainforest is breathtaking; billions and billions of stars that you've never seen before. Being in the southern hemisphere, the sky is totally different from what we're accustomed to seeing here. All new constellations, the most striking of which is
the Southern Cross. It's an arrangement of stars that looks like a cross and every night as we walk back from town down to where we sleep, the arrangement of the constellation places the cross right over the boarding house we've been building. Always a poignant moment.
Profiles of Obscurity; The Journey
"'Come and let us sell him to the Ishmaelites and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our own flesh.' And his brothers listened to him."
It's about 5:50 am and again I am looking at my reflection in the window, ready for the sun to rise. It's cold this morning. For the last couple of nights we've slept with the air-condition on, but last night it was back in the 30's again. Spring is turning out to be beautiful here though. I love the sights and sounds of the neighborhood as the world around me once again awakens from it's slumber. I've been told that Augusta is known for the azaleas that erupt into bloom all over the city this time of year.
Lynn and I have moved around so much over the years that we've had many opportunities to experience the change of seasons in a new part of the country. So far I'm enjoying the advent of spring as we're on this leg of the journey.
This morning I read about Joseph's journey and a lot of questions came to mind. After his brothers threw him into the pit they had a change of heart through the conscience of Judah. Instead of shedding the blood of a brother the decided to just eliminate the problem of living with a dreamer by sending him away to a foreign land. As a caravan of traders passed through the brothers sold Joseph to be carried into Egypt as a slave, never to be heard from again. And at this point Joseph's story is abruptly interrupted.
Chapter 37 ends with Joseph the boy, now in Egypt, being sold to Potiphar who was Pharaoh's bodyguard. Chapter 38 changes focus all together with a story about one of Joseph's brothers. And then we rejoin Joseph's story in chapter 39 but he has grown into a man as several years have passed. This vividly shows us a season of obscurity for Joseph. The details of the journey to Egypt and the next several years of his life are not even recorded for us.
I am particularly interested in what Joseph experienced emotionally during the journey from Canaan to Egypt. As I think about this I'm reminded of a "vision" of sorts that I had about a year ago. I wrote it in story form and titled it "The Rescue." I wonder if Joseph shared any of the same thoughts of anger, fear, hope, and despair that I expressed in "The Rescue." I'll share it with you here.
THE RESCUE
Have you ever experienced a season in which your heart begins to grow cold and there seems to be an ever-widening distance between you and the Father? Rarely do I ever have what could be considered a "vision" but during my time with God one morning last year, I think I had just that. Let me put it into story form for you.
It was a daring abduction. The enemy, on his horse, had ridden for years to finally arrive at the fortified home of his intended captive, the prince. Gaining access through the fortifications, subduing the prince, and then carrying him away from the castle, across the same distance he had spent years traveling, until finally taking him as a captive into his own dark homeland was the only way the enemy could insure that the prince would be unable to inflict the holy damage that he was capable of inflicting with his Father's forces.
The prince had grown careless; failing to lock the door to his chamber. Taken in his sleep and now shackled as a slave and dragged along the ground behind the enemy's horse - choked and blinded by the dust - he watched the castle grow smaller in the distance as he fought to break free. Finally the castle was gone and the prince, bouncing along the ground, was no closer to being free. The land was desolate; an eternity of barren earth, dangerous rocks, and nothingness seemed to stretch forever into the darkness of all four horizons.
Without end, days turned into weeks which turned into months which turned into years of being dragged behind the enemy's horse, further and further away from the Father's castle - closer and closer to the border of the enemy's territory. The prince remembered life in the castle. The food was rich and plentiful. Music filled the air 24 hours a day and dancers never ceased their dancing. Laughter continually echoed through the atmosphere in which the inhabitants of the castle "breathed" love just as they breathed oxygen.
The prince was overcome by grief as he wondered if he would ever again "breathe" love. Anger was the next emotion as he realized that nobody was coming after him. For what seemed an eternity of being violently dragged toward the abyss, never once did a rescuer ever appear on the horizon. Did the Father miss him? Did the king even realize that an enemy had subtly come and taken hold of his son and dragged him away? With his body tumbling along behind the horse the prince despondently thought to himself, "Maybe I never was the apple of my Father's eye after all."
The border of the dark land was now in sight. It would be only a matter of minutes before this terrible ride would end, the enemy would be home, and the prince would forever be his captive - seemingly out of his Father's reach. All but resigned to this fate and feeling that there was no way his Father could even hear his words, he whispered, "Father...will you come for me?"
The ground began to feel different under his tumbling body. It was as if the earth itself had begun to vibrate, and then shake and tremble under him. The sounds around him were different. Was it thunder? It couldn't be, because it was continuous and growing more intense. And inter-mingled with the sound of thunder was what sounded like the singing of a million voices. His vision blurred by dust, the prince struggled to make out what he was seeing in the distance. In all four directions, it looked as if a flood of...something...was pouring at incredible speed over the hills and across the land in their direction. There was no end to this...mass...as it closed in on them. Finally, the prince began to notice that it wasn't one mass, but it was millions, even billions of individual riders mounted upon strong, perfect horses. Every horse was draped with a sash bearing the coat of arms of the prince's family. It was an army. It was the King's army and it covered the earth as it closed in on them.
For the first time, the enemy's horse stopped, reared up on his hind legs and whinnied in panic as the army closed in. The rider was thrown, and in a few blinding seconds he and his steed were trampled as the land was consumed by this vast army. A hand grasped the prince and lifted him onto the back of one of the billions of war-horses that still stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. This wasn't just one of the war-horses. This was his Father's personal horse. The grip of the hand was familiar too. It was his Father's hand. The king hadn't just sent his army to rescue the prince...he led the charge!
With a shout, the king commanded the entire army to turn and begin the journey back across the land toward home. As they traveled across the land through which the prince had been dragged, he noticed that it was filled with lush grass, wildflowers, streams, butterflies, singing birds. It had become beautiful! Sensing his son's amazement, the father turned and with a wink said, "Don't you remember son? Wherever the river of my presence flows, there is life!"
"Did you begin pursuing me as soon as you realized I was gone," asked the prince?
"No", the King replied. "The army mounted and stood at attention the moment you were gone, but I began the pursuit the moment you asked if I would come for you. I wanted to know that your heart still belonged to me and not your captor. Your journey through the wilderness was required for you to know the depths of the love between us. Though it seemed like the journey was long and the distance between us was great, you were never out of my sight. You were never out of my reach. And I would have never allowed the enemy to accomplish his mission. Welcome home, Son."
In this story, you are the prince (or princess). The enemy desires to lure our hearts away from our Father. When he succeeds, no matter how far he manages to drag us, we are never out of sight or out of reach of our Father and he loves us so much that the angels of Heaven will move on his command to rescue us...if we'll just call upon Him.
How Great!
O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,And then proclaim:
"My God, how great Thou art!"
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
An Interesting Few Days
I've been away from the blog for a few days as Lynn and I were out of town Wednesday through Friday at a Free Methodist leadership conference in Atlanta. In many ways it was a wonderful time of being together with about 20 close friends from our home church in Columbus and old acquaintances from other places that I met during my ordination process several years ago.
The "interesting" part of the past few days began last Tuesday. I had just begun this blog a few days earlier as a way to process this time of "intentional obscurity" that I'm in. The pastor of a church we've "visited" several times requested to have lunch with Lynn and me last Tuesday. As we ate together and got to know each other a bit he enthusiastically welcomed us to connect with the church and encouraged me that there could very well be a place of ministry for us there. That portion of our conversation was totally unexpected.
Wednesday we left for the conference and over the course of the next couple of days were asked by different people to consider the following possibilities:
- Relocate to Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina to lead a group of people who are searching for a church planter to help them plant a church.
- Relocate to Kentucky to assume the pastorate at one of several that are coming available.
- Visit Tampa, FL to consider planting or pastoring in Florida.
- Return to our home church in Columbus, GA to prepare for who knows what.
- To stay in touch with the superintendent of a particular conference regarding planting and/or pastoring opportunities in his region.
So...here I am, totally committed to remaining in this place of intentional obscurity for as long as God wants me to, yet hearing all of these voices of invitation. All I know to do at this point is to continue resting, praying, fasting, and trusting God to make His invitation to the next chapter of our life unmistakably clear.
More on the life of Joseph coming Tuesday.
Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness; drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day!
All Thy works with joy surround Thee, earth and heaven reflect Thy rays,
Stars and angels sing around Thee, center of unbroken praise.
Field and forest, vale and mountain, flowery meadow, flashing sea,
Singing bird and flowing fountain call us to rejoice in Thee.
Thou art giving and forgiving, ever blessing, ever blessed,
Wellspring of the joy of living, ocean depth of happy rest!
Thou our Father, Christ our Brother, all who live in love are Thine;
Teach us how to love each other, lift us to the joy divine.
Mortals, join the happy chorus, which the morning stars began;
Father love is reigning o’er us, brother love binds man to man.
Ever singing, march we onward, victors in the midst of strife,
Joyful music leads us Sunward in the triumph song of life.
Joseph; Profiles of Obscurity
"When they saw him from a distance and before he came close to them, they plotted against him to put him to death. And they said to one another, 'Here comes this dreamer! Now then, come and let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; and we will say, 'A wild beast devoured him.' Then let us see what will become of his dreams!'"
It's 5:52 Tuesday morning. Yesterday was an exceptionally difficult day at work. Simply put, my department has been asked to achieve impossible goals yet we are not provided the resources needed to make those goals. Out of mental exhaustion I slept away the evening and really had no interest in getting out of the bed this morning to face another day. I'm also feeling the effects of emotional exhaustion as I've been thinking a lot lately about being so far removed from everyone I love and care about. I'm 4 hours away from our church home and dear friends in Columbus. And I'm 10 hours away from our families and our good friends from the church we planted. Most days I feel very much alone and find myself dealing with the reality over and over again that leaving Illinois was a mistake.
I wonder if what I'm feeling is anywhere near what Joseph felt after being violently torn away from familiar sights and sounds, voices and touch of his home and family and sent to a far-away land in captivity to foreigners who cared no more for him than you would care for a work-animal or a piece of machinery.
Joseph was a man of dreams. As a young boy he was given dreams by God and those dreams gave him a sense of purpose and destiny. I don't think Joseph is unusual in this sense. I believe that any of us - if we will listen closely enough - will hear God whisper dreams into our hearts for He knows the plans He has for us and if we will seek him with all of our hearts he will show us those plans. But, there are a lot of people, circumstances, and events in life that seek to kill our dreams. The first people who attempted to kill Joseph's dreams were his own family. I think this is common as well.
The people we are closest to are typically the first ones to hear our dreams. And though it isn't usually out of malicious intent, they are typically the first ones to strike a blow against those dreams. Because they love us and want what THEY think is best for us, they are usually the first ones to try to convince us that our dreams are the wrong dreams, or even that our dreams are just plain silly. I have found that the most discouraging words spoken against the pursuit of our dreams are often spoken by our own flesh and blood. Sometimes the attack on our dreams doesn't even involve words. The silence can inflict as much damage as the spoken word.
Joseph was forced into obscurity from his family as a result of his dreams; thrown into a pit, and then sold to a caravan of slave-traders to be taken to Egypt to live out the rest of his life. Our dreams today will often separate us from our families in the same way. Why is this obscurity a necessary part of the story? I belive that if the dreams are truly whispered to us by God and He is the one inviting us into those dreams, intentional obscurity will serve the very important purpose of allowing us to be alone with those dreams, away from the voices, the challenges, the oppostion, the ridicule so that we can test the dreams and discover with certainty that they are indeed God's dreams for our lives.
Profiles of Obscurity
It's 5:50 am. I've been up for about 20 minutes and most of that time has been spent rubbing my eyes, trying to wake up. This is a routine I've tried to maintain for several months now; rising at 5:30, fixing my coffee, and spending the next hour in the reading room praying and reading. Some days I'm successful in this discipline, some days I can't lift myself from the bed.
I'm changing my routine a bit. Whereas before I would sit in the recliner covered with an afghan reading, now I will spend this time at the desk writing as I read.
The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon and the features of the backyard are barely visible through the window. Mainly I see darkness and my reflection staring back at me in the glass. My hair is a mess and there are circles under my eyes. It rained last night; just a little. It's too dark to see the wetness outside, but I remember waking up a few hours ago hearing the drops of rain hitting the skylight.
I've been kind of jumping around in the Bible during my reading time. I read the Gospel of Matthew, then began Mark but a few chapters in decided to jump back to 1st Samuel. I've decided however on a new subject of study and that is the lives of those men and women in the Bible who found themselves in seasons of intentional obscurity. I'm comforted to note that most of the heroes of the scripture went through this very thing at some point after they had heard God's call on their lives. Men like Joseph, Moses, Elijah, David, Jesus, and Paul all experienced a time of intentional obscurity. This comforts me because it indicates that this season is often a necessary element in the growth of a person into the man or woman God designed and called them to be.
Today I'm beginning with Joseph of the Old Testament. His story begins in Genesis 37 and in this first chapter I see these dynamics at work in Joseph's life: He is born into a wealthy polygamist's family alongside sons of his father's other two wives. He was the favorite son of the father which made him most despised by his brothers. And then came the dreams. As a young boy Joseph had dreams of greatness; dreams given to him by God. He dreamed on two separate occassions that one day his entire family would bow down before him.
I imagine that in his youth these dreams gave him great satisfaction that one day the brothers who hated him would bow before his greatness, his authority. This reminds me of daydreams I myself have had throughout the years. I remember a time when I worked for a very difficult company to work for and desperately hated my job. You know what I would daydream about? Buying the company and then ruling over everyone who was making my life difficult. I've also had these daydreams about individuals who were causing me grief in my life. I would daydream about somehow being elevated to a position of authority over them that would allow me to passive-aggressively exact my revenge...all in Christian love of course. I believe Joseph, in his youth may have derived some of the same satisfaction from his dreams.
But Joseph's dreams were from God. In his youth he boasts to his brothers and parents about one day being in a position of power over them. But as a grown man you see the fulfillment of those dreams, but instead Joseph's elevation to power was not for him to exact revenge or vindication for how he was treated as a boy. His elevation to power was so that he could serve, provide for, minister to, and rescue his family from famine.
Position, power, and authority given by God is never given so that we may rule over someone else. It is always given so that we will have the means to take off our shirt and give it to the man who has none. If we are ever given an abundance of bread, it is not so we can grow fat but it is always given so that we will walk into the streets and give it to the hungry. If a kings scepter is ever placed in our hands it is not so we can recline on our throne and be served by the peasantry, it is so we can have the authority to spread love, kindness, justice and provision throughout the land.
How did Joseph get from the place of pridefully boasting about his dreams to the place of living them out as they were meant by God to be lived out in service to his family? Intentional obscurity was the chisel that shaped him into a man who could not only dream the dreams of God, but live them out with the love, righteousness, and integrity of the God who gave them.
The Changing Of Seasons
The changing of seasons has brought a whole new world of sights and sounds to life around me. As I sit at my desk in front of the window I hear dozens of different types of birds singing in the back yard. The bird feeder hanging on the pine tree in front of me requires a weekly refilling as it has become a gathering place for a communal meal and conversations in song. I hear children playing in the backyard next door and am reminded that once upon a time I too knew how to laugh and play without being bothered by thoughts of the weightier things in life.
To the right, as I look through the reading room window I see a tree that has just recently exploded with brilliant white flowers. To my left a tree shadowing the corner of the porch which I've yet to identify is unergoing a slow-motion eruption of deep burgundy blooms. Patches of green are beginning to appear scattered throughout the yard. And almost every day a squirrel skitters about on the back porch and as he looks at me through the screen door I can almost imagine that he's come once again to ask if I can come out and play.
The change of seasons on the other side of the window coincides with a change of seasons underway in my soul. It's a strange change of seasons, one that I've never before experienced. Unlike the perfectly-timed, predictable, unending rotation that occurs outside the window every twelve months, this one has come upon me like a stranger in the night and I find myself both intrigued that perhaps my life is about to explode in color and beauty, yet fearful that instead I may be entering a long, dark, cold winter.
If springtime is indeed about to burst forth in my soul, I see it being heralded by new appreciations and desires growing within me. I find myself wanting to be surrounded by life. One bird feeder in my yard isn't enough. If it wasn't for the expense, I would place one on every tree in the yard to seduce hundreds, even thousands of birds into taking up residence on my little piece of earth just so I could enjoy watching them and listening to their songs. Though I've yet to begin the project, I have the seeds and the intent to construct a butterfly garden near the porch. I've been obsessed lately with the desire to adopt a dog. And as strange as it may seem, I find myself more interested in handling, observing, and enjoying insects that choose to wander upon my person than killing them out of annoyance (with the exception of the large fly that stubbornly insisted on buzzing my head as I tried to fall asleep the other night. He met with a sudden demise after landing upon the wall within reach of my hand.)
I find myself longing for simplicity. I shared with Lynn over breakfast one morning recently that I am weary of investing myself into maintaining a lifestyle while the things that really make my heart come alive remain just outside of my reach. A life of simpliciy and enjoyment of the more important things in life - faith, hope, and love - is becoming more and more important to me, even if poverty is the pricetag on such a life.
Such are the things in my soul that cause me to wonder if a beautiful new season of life is about to begin.
But then there is the fear that I am instead heading into a long, cold winter. To some degree I have always been more at home in the inner world of my mind than in the crowd of humanity. I've always been more adept at reflection and writing than conversation and relationships. But these days I find myself becoming even more and more silent, unable to speak with my voice, unable to converse and enjoy the company of most people. I don't believe that I dislike people more. Instead, I find myself simply having nothing to say that I believe would be of benefit to another person. Many times I allow the voicemail message on my phone to do the talking for me, even when I know that the person calling is someone I love and care for.
I'm also becoming more and more convinced of my uselessness in regards to the most important things in life. My greatest desire and my greatest fear have always revolved around the same event; my death. At the hour of my death my greatest desire has always been that I would be able to look around and see a world that has benefitted from my existence. And at the same time my greatest fear has always been that in that hour I would face the reality that my life has meant nothing to anyone. I recently attended the funeral of a 50-something year old man who died in his sleep one Sunday afternoon following church. The funeral home was filled beyond capacity with people having to be turned away from the chapel to watch the service on television in a spare room. I left that day wondering how quiet and empty the funeral home will be when my hour arrives. I find myself more convinced of my ability to make wrong decisions instead of right ones. Likewise I find myself more convinced of my ability to say the wrong things at the wrong times than speaking anything of edifying benefit to anyone. I am more keenly aware than ever of the self-centeredness that rules my mind and the abscence of the Christ-like self-sacrifice that I long for in my character.
Within the last week God has spoken a phrase into my heart and mind. "Intentional Obscurity" He has said to me that He has intentionally placed me in a season of obscurity and in response I am to intentionally embrace that obscurity, rest in it, and make no attempt to leave it until I am unmistakenly called out of it by Him. I believe that perhaps the season that comes next will depend on my response to this season of obscurity. Either the life and beauty of spring or the cold darkness of winter await me. Resting in the embrace of God-ordained obscurity will lead me into a springtime teeming with life, while struggling to attain prominence and usefulness through my own efforts will bring a lonely chill to the air.
I've chosen to create a new blog to chronicle this season for a couple reasons. First, I have to write. It is the only effective way for me to process what is happening in me. Secondly, I am doing it publicly because I continue to hold out hope that there is someone in the world who may in some way benefit from seeing how God is dealing with a guy in South Carolina who is desperately reaching for the God who made everything on the other side of the window.