"Have Any of You Been Taught the Proper Way to Sneeze?"

Today at the School of Her Majesty I was warmly greeted in every class by a loud yellow paper with the words – IMPORTANT NOTICE - on it. As the Professors made sure to deliver one to every student I was curious as to what could be so pending. As it turns out it was the always-fearful H1N1. This was all part of the University’s attempt to help stop a “pandemic” and make sure students could be contacted in the case of an outbreak.

Every student in the school today was given this little piece of paper in every class they attended, in order to make sure that they checked their university email account, making sure it was at least forwarded to another account such as Gmail.

Which begs the question, how, and I’ll paraphrase what Texas asked in class today - if there is a pandemic at the school are we supposed to filter through our 400 other pieces of junk mail in our inboxes to discover that we should not attend school today for fear of losing our lives? There was no response.

And so The Count proceeded to tell the class that this was the school’s way of letting us know we are a valued asset to the school and that The Queen is prepared with a plan…just in case.

Which leads me to my point; does any of this H1N1 hysteria sound anything like the time of Y2K? I don’t mean to be unsympathetic to anyone who has lost a loved one to the virus, and it is not my point to make light of that. But it is my point to try and figure out just why this flu is receiving the press that it is. I understand that the ‘Second Wave’ is on it’s way (apparently) but how come we decide not to look at Australia who is just finishing it’s flu season and learn that there were relatively few problems? Would this not help to calm some of these seemingly irrational fears that are plastered all over the news?

And why is it that we are always investing money in something because it’s “the responsible thing to do?” Understand that I really shouldn’t mind investing money in a flu shot, or equipping my workplace with an absurd amount of sanitizing product that would fend off a worldwide outbreak of the virus. But if I do not do what I’m told, what the ‘responsible’ thing to do is, then I will be looked down upon, and my employees will feel unappreciated, and want to never work for me again (seriously?). And so the cycle continues.

Fear of some global crisis.
Stockpiling of (fill in the blank)
Nothing substantial occurs
Some company makes a lot of money
REPEAT CYCLE

I would be interested to know which company is responsible for creating the flu vaccine, and I would love too look at how well their profits are for next quarter.
So remember that if you have a cough, a sneeze, sore throat or a runny nose you might have H1N1. And while you probably don’t, and you will most likely be fine, be ’responsible’ and go by something to take care of yourself.

For everyone else sake…

Right…

An Introduction of Sorts

When I moved to the sometimes-wonderful city of Regina I was inspired to begin a little project with this blog. I have been hesitant to start this because if I am going to start this new idea then I need to give my best attempt to keep it up and finish it. It's these failed attempts to finish these 'projects' in my life that seem to have built their own graveyard in these past twenty some years of my life.

Now here's how it works;

I was inspired by watching the movie Julia and Julia (that's not me recommending the movie, although I did laugh quite a bit) and I was reminded that a lot of these weblogs have some sort of purpose behind them; such as working through a cookbook, one recipe a day for an entire year. Well this blog too shall have a purpose outside of the occasional rant or vent that it has seen in the past.

I am currently enrolled in the Faculty of Business Administration at the University of Regina. It’s a privilege to come to school everyday and learn about different subjects, to meet new and interesting people, and to engage in some exciting discussion. It’s here that I find the purpose for my blog. I want to bring the University to, whoever reads this, to share some good stories and discuss them. We will follow the lives of different students and encounter different circumstances say in sports, relationships, church, social groups, work, or any number of other instances. It’s my hope to document and discuss - almost like writing my own fiction novel – these lives, which will be presented as a form of fiction. And maybe, because this is literature and it can take many forms I will make up some stories that I wish would take place in this city. A little imagination never hurt anyone…I think. Although I was told in English class that a lot of poets from the past – creative and imaginative geniuses – ended up taking their own lives for one reason or another. We will chalk this up to coincidence and blaze forward with our attempt at creativity and imagination.

It will be interesting for sure.

That’s the hope. One entry every day – give or take a few hours- for the rest of the school year. I think it’s possible, and I believe it will be fun. And it’s my hope that I’ll present a look into the lives of the University, it’s students, and their thoughts.

Here goes nothing…

A Little Slice of Honesty

I woke up this morning with a sense of anxiety in my heart. It's becoming quite common now, but it's something I no longer want to be a part of. I find this anxiety comes from my lack of perspective, from a desire to need to be in control. I feel as though if I am the one in control than everything will at least play out in front of my eyes, and if I can see it happening then I can help shape it into the situation that I most desire.

This is honestly one of the greatest banes in my life. To live a life of trust, of abandonment to God in the areas I care about most in my life would be a dream come true. I can imagine giving up my biggest dreams, all my hopes and aspiration to the One who knows best. It's never an easy thing to do, but I will not rest until I see this transition take place.

I want nothing more than to never have to worry about those 'big' issues in my life. And the truth is I don't. I want to see my life lived in a way that is free, truly free, one that in many ways 'rolls' with the punches, seeing the Lord's hand even in what I don't understand.

He knows best. He knows best. He knows best. He knows best. He knows best.

I trust your promises....
I give you control...
I'm terrified....

I Am Beginning to Care Less...

This morning I’m drawn to the words of Solomon…

“Everything is meaningless….I said to myself, Come on, let’s try pleasure. Let’s look for the good things in life. But I found that this, too, was meaningless. So I said, Laughter is silly. What good does it to seek pleasure? After much thought, I decided to cheer myself with much wine. And while still seeking wisdom, I clutched at foolishness. In this way, I tried to experience the only happiness most people find during their brief life in this world.

I also tried to find meaning by building huge homes for myself and planting beautiful vineyards. I made gardens and parks, filling them with all kinds of fruit trees. I built reservoirs to collect water to irrigate my many flourishing groves. I bought slaves, both men and women, and others were born into my household. I also owned large herds and flocks, more than any of the kings who had lived in Jerusalem before me. I collected great sums of silver and gold, the treasure of many kings and provinces. I hired wonderful singers, both men and women, and had many beautiful concubines. I had everything a man could desire!

So I became greater than all who lived in Jerusalem before me, and my wisdom never failed me. Anything I wanted I would take. I denied myself no pleasure. I even found great pleasure in hard work, a reward for all my labors. But as I looked at everything I had worked so hard to accomplish, it was all so meaningless – like chasing the wind. There was nothing really worthwhile anymore.”

Somehow when I woke up this morning I found myself sharing the same thoughts.

This is all meaningless.

I come nowhere close to comparing with King Solomon in all that he experienced, but somehow we’ve arrived at the same conclusion.

It’s all meaningless even beyond money, material things, and the obvious ideas that are so easily seen withering away.

In this moment I’m talking about the smiles and the frowns, the risks and the reservations, the laughter and the crying, the dreams and the status quos, the fallings in love and the getting my times my heart has been broken, learning all that there is to learn, experiencing all the great joys this planet has to offer, and fantastic memories built through our interactions.

All of it meaningless.

In this moment I could care less about any of these things.

I care not whether my day is good, whether I get lots accomplished, whether I make a few lasting memories, whether I see the world, get married, have kids, pursue my dreams, or let my stomach hurt from laughing so much. I could care less whether I win or lose, accomplish lots or little, have everything or nothing. If my life was lived out as Solomon’s and I denied myself no pleasure, and yet somehow missed knowing Christ and giving Him the glory He deserves, then I have known no pleasure at all; I have yet to truly live.

Nothing matters but Christ. All of these things are secondary to the King.

Everything is meaningless. Everything.

A Lie From Down Under...

It’s been a while since I’ve had the inspiration to write; although I see that slowly changing.

Oh what a summer it’s been and of course oh what a winter awaits.

I saw something long overdue on television the other day, but before I explain what that is let me first back up.

This year on Street Invaders – a short-term summer missions program – I was introduced to the new Hillsong album. A fantastic album for those of you still waiting to hear it, but I want to bring our attention to the song Healer. From my understanding (and please give me grace if this story is missing some parts), this song was written by a man serving as a youth or young adults pastor at another church in Australia. Nothing out of the normal there, except for the fact that the man was dieing of cancer. In fact, when watching a sermon he spoke a few months ago you can see the oxygen tubes in his nose as they are no doubt there out of necessity. He warns the audience members in the front row to tell him if blood starts coming out of his mouth and then off he goes, delivering and inspiring sermon of how the Lord is his healer.

The song essentially is the same story; it was given to him by God on a whim after he had been diagnosed with this deadly disease. If you haven’t yet heard it make sure you do, it’s quite the moving melody, and no doubt will inspire many people to cling to Christ in their hard times. (the words “nothing is impossible” are still ringing in my mind as I can no doubt hear the Hillsong choir chanting in my room.)

Now here is where things get interesting. It – meaning this pastor’s cancer – was all a lie. It was a sham, a hoax, completely untrue. He was never dieing of cancer; it was made up.

I remember watching this on CNN a few days ago and waiting for the backlash of this awful deception. I was waiting for people to write the guy off and throw him to the wolves for what he had done.

It never happened.

What I saw instead on the television screen that day was a powerful beam of hope.

As the CNN reporters were walking around to different members of the church asking what they thought of the pastors actions they had this to say, “I’m just glad he’s getting the help he needs,” or “ We’re all human, it could have happened to anyone. I’m just glad he’s getting some help.”

All right stop and contemplate what we just heard. These people who have been deceived, even this pastor’s own family are on national television acting as though it’s no big deal?

Hope covered the entirety of my face.

I watched, as the body of Christ was able to give an honest representation of what it means to be Christians. They were forgiving, understanding, and caring only about the pastor and his well-being. This was a living example of the shift that I see taking place within the Body of Christ.

We’re starting to get the fact that we are all broken people, capable of horrible deceptions and lies, and yet Christ and His glory is bigger than all of that. We’re starting to figure out that it’s not about us and our feelings and they way we are treated, but it’s all about Christ and Him glorified.

I love seeing the Lord use a song that is no less powerful given this news, to redeem a mans struggle of sixteen years of the lusts of the flesh. He’s finally getting the help he’s always needed. And we as the body of Christ are no less whole than when we first started.

This is only a glimpse of where I feel we are going. I’m excited because I can see “hope rise” and it’s humbling being a part of it. May God continue to redeem our poor choices, and may His name be lifted even higher.

There’s always hope.

Cracking More Than a Cream Egg.

I work at a Husky gas station located a slow four minute walk from my house. I don’t really pump gas because we no longer have full serve, so you might be wondering what I do in a regular day. I make sure the slurpee machines are working properly – although there is unavoidable smell of vomit and diaper coming from somewhere behind it – and check the levels of coffee. Once that is finished I’ll empty the garbage and do a quick look around the place to make sure it is up and running and then I retire; retire that is to my milk crates arranged in such a fashion that they stand tall as my yellow plastic throne, where I strategically read through the terrible celebrity gossip magazines, all of which contain the exact same trash for different price amounts, that I will continue to claim to want nothing to do with. I will sit on my throne for the next six hours as I wait until 9pm, where I will begin locking the outside and putting other unnecessary trinkets away for the evening. It’s weird because most days I don’t hate my job outside of all the illegal/unfortunate activities that take place that are out of my control; promised money not being paid, holiday and overtime pay never awarded, the constant selling of expired goods. I get to meet a lot of people in my neighborhood and while the money is nowhere near desirable it is something, and I really should be thankful.

But sometimes the monotony of the job gets to me. I get frustrated knowing that I’m going to work with this really nice guy named Natik, which is an automatic promise that the next eight hours will be a lesson in patience and understanding as we struggle to communicate in the same language. I get frustrated because I long so heavily to be spending time with my friends, to be laughing in sweatpants, going out for coffee, or even arguing about hockey. I lose my focus and in doing so, watch as any life that I did receive from my job falls to the ground choked of its meaning. My job then becomes a job; an obstacle in the way of my future, a means to an end. If I will just push hard on the plow, this summer will be over soon and I’ll have the money I need for whatever the next step looks like. Customers become a never-ending hassle as the words “do you have an CAA card” become my motto. They are so engrained in my speech pattern now that I will ask a customer two or even three times if they need a bag because the sentence just slips out, like a that person in your life that is overly blunt and has been trying to work on it, “sorry…it slipped.”

Person after person, item after item, minute after minute, I begin to stand there purposeless. But once in a while something will happen to rip me out of that grey existence and place the smile I have lost back on the lower center of my face.
A father and his daughter came in one evening and were buying snacks for some unknown purpose. They loved each other – I know I can only assume, but I’ll go out on a limb for this one. The rummaged around the isles looking for the perfect amount of sugar and flavor, and then with their hands full of candy they came to the till to pay. There I was a sullen statue waiting to ring them in. And then, the daughter reaches to her left and says “should we get Elliot a Crème Egg daddy?” In that moment my heart leapt to life, as if Brian McNamee himself had injected adrenaline into. I was caught off guard, as I was ripped out of my monotony and shown a ray of ife’s light. “You want to buy me a Crème Egg?” Let me clarify a little bit; I love the name Elliot, and to show my appreciation for the name I have worn it proudly as my name tag, training myself to respond to questions like, “how are you today Elliot.” And there it was sitting in the middle of the pile of candy, a delicious Crème Egg for me, for Elliot. It was a moment that reminded me of the language my heart speaks; blessings, philanthropy, ultimately love. I was alive once again with the glimmer of hope in my heart that had become so dim. Hope for the human race, a hope rooted in Him, a hope that said today does not have to be the lifeless memory it has been in the past.

And so as the father and daughter couple packed up all there candy, including the Crème Egg I was so earnestly staring at, a puzzled look crossed my face as I was left asking two questions: First, how great is our Lord that he would use something so simple to remind me of His greatness, His purpose, and His love, no longer allowing me to forget the beat of my own heart? And second, what are the chances that her brother’s name was Elliot?!

It All Started With a Red Stripe...

I’ve decided to take another prolonged break from studying to do some other types of research. I know I’m already doing research but in all honesty I care much more about the kind I am about to embark on over the next ten minutes.

It has occurred to me over the past few years that when I listen to music it ignites something inside me, something deep, something substantial. This something is hard to find words for, as you I’m sure may have already noticed. But it’s a dynamic part of who I am. It’s one of the reasons I’ve decided to commit to playing the guitar because there is a part of me, an earnest and sincere part of me, that can no longer express what my heart longs to scream on the end of a pen. I love writing and during different times it is the only outlet for my thoughts and prayers that will do. But there is some sort of mystery that music contains that I can’t explain…

For example, how do I explain the times when a certain song about nothing and everything can poetically put into sound my exact feeling, thoughts, and even my actions?

How can a song that is so openly devoted to a love for another person somehow captivate a piece of my heart for my Lord?

How can a story about a drummer from a particular band’s last performance bring me to tears when I heard that the band turned around and played the last song facing him, looking into his eyes as they held memories open during that euphoric last few notes?

How is it that when I find myself alone in my room with a pair of white plastic discs over my ears, I feel as though I can fly. I feel as though I am invincible. I feel as though I never want to leave.

How is it that when I hear a twenty second clip of a certain song I get motivated to the point of running until collapse. I don’t even know what they are saying in the song, but I do know what it does to my insides. They speak the same language.

I recently went on a trip to Portland to watch my new friend Tom Delong play some notes on his guitar. It was fantastic in a whole assortment of ways. But over the twenty-hour trip there, I was crammed in a vehicle with four other guys who understood what I am talking about above. We laughed, we cried, we screamed, we whispered, and we most certainly played a mean air guitar.

Music was our mode of transportation.

I ask my folks all the time if they “hear” that when I play them a song. They return blank empty looks and reply politely, “yes”. They miss it. It’s not their fault and it’s not a bad thing either. It’s just something that’s not inside them.

I’m tempted to quote the sports drink commercial here and ask my question in a way that will be parallel to shameless promotions, but instead I’ll end off in a slow, tapered like way and ask…

Do you hear what I hear?

No Mr. Mcgough I Will Not Answer the Phone!

After a long and torturous Statistics exam, I had it in my mind to start studying for my next exam; Economics. Why would anyone think that! On second thought, why not curl up next to my guitar, learn a few things about it – like how to make it sing - and watch a movie! In honor of Cloverfield, I think I will take the latter.

Over the past few days I found myself in a number of precarious positions, all which occurred at different moments and all internally. How easily I find myself floating on a cloud being cavalier only to be followed moments later by strangling doubt about who I am. It has become fascinating to me how faithful the Lord is in lifting us up. Every time I’m attacked by this ridiculous anxiety, I ask myself when the last time I made purposeful room for Him in my life was.

It seems I always allow the Lord to find me, when my life seems to be moving along at a decent clip. I am oh so thankful for all He does for me, and for who He is, and I most certainly thank Him for the good times and the fantastic sunshine – which is nowhere in sight in this moment – but I never actively seek Him out to spend time with Him.

It’s like those friendships - which I know none of us have - that involve one friend doing all the work, one friend pulling the weight of two people. I would go so far – it’s not really that far – to say that those sort of friendships are not that, but mere acquaintances.
A perfect example of that can be found in my house at around 5 pm most weekdays when the phone rings. And when I don’t answer it, it rings again two minutes later. And then again, two minutes later. And then again two minutes later. You’re wondering why I am not answering the phone, and it’s because I don’t have the energy to answer once again, that I don’t have Nathan’s cell phone number. If you’ve been to my house in the past year you know what I’m talking about.

But how often do we live in a one-way relationship with the Lord? How often do we find ourselves in a wonderful state giving glory to the Lord with our words, but never take time to thank Him intimately, giving Him more than a moment in our colorful lives.

I for one will admit I do not give Him enough time, especially when my life seems to be going well. But I do want to remedy that. And how do I go about doing that? By simply doing it. By being conscious that He deserves more of my day. By cutting out perhaps one period of a playoff game, start with the second, and go spend that twenty minutes giving purposeful praise, thanks, and honor to the Lord.

So what am I waiting for? Another whistle? Nope, I think I’m going to try and start this habit now…

Kenny Always Said...

I sit here restless.

Looking over pictures, reading notes, and waiting for more videos to be uploaded, I’m soothed by the words Mr. Kensrue that have found their way to repeat, “fly over me.”

He’s right you know, months do fly by. As I reflect over even the past four months of my own life I am looking at many different people from start to finish. I mean I - or he for the sake of clarity – is the same person, but he’s a little different same person.

I look back and find different life changing moments, some hard some easy, but all of them necessary.

Four months.

How many more times am I allowed to look back and reflect over four months?

If I could lay out my dreams, my goals, and most of all my perspective on life, there would be a dramatic difference between what was then, and what is now.

And yet the roots never change.

Hope. Dreams. Restoration. Belief.

It’s interesting how in four months I feel the most human I have ever felt, and that is the most relieving feeling. I think it feels like home. Home; a place where we love to invite friends, forget to clean, am blessed to have, and is forever moving.

No need to hide. No forced smile. Honest responses. Not that those things were plagues in my life prior, but they definitely found themselves as retro buttons on my black velvet jacket.

"You will spread your wings one day. Fly over me."

Dustin really does now how to express himself.

"Fly over me."

Let’s learn to fly.

I want to fly forever.

Meet me there?

The Great(er) Awakening…

We

Dream of ways to break out of this rut we do not even know we’re in
Need more than what we have been shown
Long to breathe a breath of air that could very well be our last
Take nothing for granted
Want to stand alone in the crowd without feeling isolated
Want the crowd to become family
Need to speak our minds, but more importantly our hearts
Are learning to conquer to fear that comes along with that
Have designed a way to follow Lion to see where he got his courage from
Are going to tell everyone how to get there
Do not want to waste any more time on our own
Know there are too many others who need to have time wasted on them
Cannot do it by ourselves
cannot do it alone
will not walk forward without one another
Understand that things take time
Also understand time is not what we have a lot of
Were born weak and we will die weak
We know that is how it’s supposed to be

We have a secret:
We’ve found hope
We have a secret:
We’re pulling ourselves together
We have a secret:
We’ve seen our destiny, and we’re going to live it out
We have a secret:
Our own selfishness is no longer worth it
We have a secret:
It’s inevitable, it can’t be stopped
We have a secret:
He won’t be stopped,

Secret’s out.

The Crazy Ones - Part One

I remember watching the Antiques Roadshow and thinking to myself that there is a lot of stuff out there that people are willing to pay a great price for. Take for example the old tin toys that can fetch a price tag of one hundred dollars or more! The next time I go to a garage sale I will keep my eyes open for those little treasures.

Economics 201 will teach you that the price or cost of an item is “what you are willing to give up in order to attain it.” So if we look closely at the pants some of us are wearing we would be willing to give up $350 for them. We would give up 35 hours of work at $10 an hour for those pants. When I think of the cost of things in terms of hours of work I begin to gain some perspective. I think about cars, homes, boats, clothes, movies or music and all those other material positions that we cannot do without. That’s a lot of time devoted for things that will go to waste.

What about some of the things that money cannot buy? Should we call Mastercard® for their list? What comes to mind; freedom, time, friends, love? All these things are considered priceless, but what would they be worth if you could buy them? Would you give your house, your family, or even your life? Think of some of the movements in the past that have revolved around these concepts. World wars were fought in the name of freedom, there were movements to end slavery, for equality between men and women, races, and while not more recently but definitely more ‘noticed’ now, the end of poverty.

I have been thinking about that list for sometime – the things that money cannot buy and their costs – (feel free to add to it) and then I considered my faith.

Being a Christian in North America, the notions of suffering or sacrifice are virtues all but lost among me, and in my own observation I think we have things pretty good. We can have our cake and eat it too I suppose. I can worship the Lord and be forgiven consistently every week, and then look after my own success and image for the remainder of the week. But what is the cost, the worth?

Have you ever heard the words “the Gospel is a free gift?” Have you ever urged someone to take the step of faith to accept Jesus Christ assuring them that their life will be ‘better’ and that it will ‘cost them’ nothing? I know that I have, and I am now beginning to see things quite differently.

I went on a search in the Book of Life for examples of people paying a price for their faith. The names like Davis, Joseph, and Samson come to mind. My good friend Abraham gives me the most terrifying view of the cost of his faith. He waited years for the Lord to work a miracle in his life, the birth of his child Isaac from his barren wife Sarah. And after He was true to His word, he asked for Abe to give it (his dream come true - his son) back to Him. I have no idea what Abraham’s thoughts might have been as he wrestled through these the outcomes of his own obedience, but for some reason in the end He submitted himself to the fact that his God had spoken, and he was going to be obedient to His voice. That He was worth it.

Why?

We're All Infected...

In recent days I have been diagnosed with a illbess upon my own observations. It’s not the same kind of sickness as Typhoid fever, or Ebola, but I see it as just as deadly. In actuality this is a disease that we all have common. You may have heard of it, it’s called common sense.

You may be wondering why I am putting the term common sense in the same ward as a life taking disease, and the obvious reason is just that – I see them giving the same results.

Once again I will caution anyone who reads this to remember that my observations are all based off of my observations within the church in North America, and so any critique I may give applies directly to myself and the part of the body that I am acquainted with, but goes no further than that unless you are willing to diagnose yourself and your current situation, I suggest you do.

When I read the stories contained in the Bible I find myself getting pulled into a world where the priorities are on the Lord and His will, where nothing else matters. The concept of having a ‘right’ to something seems so distant. (Perhaps that made it easier for those in the Bible – who are no different than ourselves – because they had no desire to ‘discover who they were’ and ‘individualism’ most likely a foreign idea when laid beside the foundation it seems to play in our contemporary society.)

I read so many stories about wild faith; a man climbing a mountain to sacrifice his own son, a young boy taking on a giant with six rocks as his weapon. A man who was asked to lay on his side in front of a city for an extended amount of time. What about a man who built a huge boat big enough to contain all the animals in the world? There was that one guy who went parted the Red Sea. And then there were those three guys who found themselves in the middle of a fire, yet were not burned.

These are all stories from the Book of Life. I think to myself what my own thought process would be if I thought I were being asked to do that from the Lord and my immediate thought would be “No way, that’s crazy, it doesn’t make sense to do that.”

Well Greg, given your examples above it doesn’t seem that God is all too interested in ‘making sense’, it seems he’s more interested in obedience. Perhaps an uncommon obedience?

What must I do to rid myself of this ‘safe’ manner of thinking? I am so concerned with giving the least and getting the most for it that I often feel contaminated and useless.

Father I long to give you my life, but this pride is so strong that it gets in the way of Your words. Help me to see with Your eyes and to trust completely. Lord may you release us all from the barrier of common sense so that we will be willing to adventure with You. Remove this common sense so that Your will is done on Earth as it is in heaven.

I’m tired of being safe. I need to stop thinking about my own safety. I need a cure.

On a side note, I forbid anyone including myself in using this note as a document that justifies irresponsibility. There is a difference. The idea of doing something ‘uncommon’ because we think the Lord has asked us to is different than doing whatever we want because we are ‘punishing the man’ that is common sense. God gave us a brain, and we need to use it. Just don’t let it ‘out think’ what He is whispering to you in your heart.

Why Do I Do It?

I have been wrestling with numerous thoughts over the past month, and I intend to spill some of them here. Let me remind you that none of these are conclusions, just observations and thoughts that I am giving some attention.

What have I been saved from? I have heard the good news, about how He saved me from hell, how He died on the cross for my sins, and how we will live forever in heaven. Yet it’s this idea of grace that seems to baffle me. I am struggling with the idea of living a life for Christ that is without caution; a life that would demonstrate to the rest of the world and myself, the truth contained in God’s word. Yet what is holding me back? What keeps me shackled in place and reminds me that what I live right now is safe and altogether good?

A few Friday’s ago I had the chance to attend a gathering of fellow believers and witnessed as we all bled our hearts before the Lord, giving Him praise for the good He’s done in our lives. And then, when the service was over, we marched our designer tee’s and dry denim pants to the local restaurant to eat our fill as we enjoyed the rest of the evening.

My struggle comes in the form of my safety. How easy is it to worship God and praise His name for the blessings He’s giving me, and then turn all the focus back on myself as soon as I leave the building? Because what I am starting to realize is that in many ways, I love my faith because the way I live it - and the way it is presented to me- it seems nothing is required of me.

I think back in my brief life of all the struggles and hardships, and while there were some, for the most part I come up empty handed. And so I pray a prayer that is supposed to grant me eternal life, and then I am in. The idea of giving up anything for that gift is put off to the side, because after all it’s free right? At least that’s the way I have presented it to others.

And so as I watch my faith crumble in the eyes of North Americans I am left wondering where I went wrong. And at this moment I think it is the idea of grace. In my North American upbringing I have been given more than the rest of the world in almost every way, and when the idea of suffering comes along it is very much a foreign concept.

Another reason why my faith seems appealing, because God promises to take care of me.

But what grinds me even more, is the fact that I actually have believed the lie that I am good, or perhaps that I am not that bad. I have never physically murdered, been an adulterer, and I often open the doors for other people. And while I know I am struggling to communicate my innocence, the question rises up, “what have I been saved from?”

I am so thankful for the Lord saving me from hell, but in all honesty do I really believe I would have gone there in the first place? My society tells me to be an individual, to express who I am, and to take care of myself. Survival of the fittest. And the natural progression of this mindset leads me to the belief that I am my own god.

If we really dig deep and think hard, we will look around and see that our contemporary faith in North America seems strangely lacking to the claims of Christ. Where is this life changing faith Jesus of Nazareth seemed to live out so flawlessly? Why is Christianity seen as such an ‘evil and ignorant religion’ in the eyes of today’s society?

The hardest question that I see standing before me is, why do I not see a visible example of someone taking up their cross daily. Why isn’t someone out there displaying Christ in His manifest power?

The conclusion I come to is this; there is no need to risk anything for the sake of the gospel because we do not understand what we have been saved from. And without that recognition of being saved, that realization of His glory, then we will refuse to give up anything. If it costs me something, the only reason I am going to pay for it is if I believe in it.

Now I need to ask myself, do I truly believe in Jesus? And if so, how would I do in the circumstances of Abraham? Because, if what He says is true, the costs of following Him in my life are going to be just as great.

And if that’s the case, I am going to be needing a lot more convincing before I start giving up what I cherish so much; my safe, comfortable, nice, and completely lifeless religion that serves ME so well.

It’s time for a change, but it’s so hard to believe it…

So hard…

Over Coffee and a Vacuum...

I have been, for a long time now, taken a break from writing any sort of thoughts, choosing to instead lay dormant. I found myself unmoved to write and unwilling to look for the inspiration that is necessary to put words on paper. That is, until I had some coffee that fateful Sunday afternoon.

I was out with some friends for dinner one September afternoon, and after deciding that I could not afford a meal to warm my belly, decided to go with the world renowned cup of java to loosen up my bones. It was over this meal that many topics were placed in front off the audience for conversation, most of which pertained to the subject of sports; specifically the Red Sox ability to consistently loose focus before going into the playoffs. But as things normally do when a group of Christians go out for a meal, the conversation shifted to discussing things about the church, and well as per usual mainly things that frustrated people about the church. In the midst of the regular mumbo-jumbo that we all (myself included) spew out about the church there was a debate on going about people who make differences in the world, namely Bono. What was being argued was that on one side people wanted to believe that the man really did make an impact on this world, while the other side demanded evidence; which of course in a conversation of this magnitude – dinner with friends- none could be presented.

After we were all finished, I scurried on home to help clean the house for the company we were having that evening, and found myself with a firm grip on the vacuum. Now I do not know about you but I find that in those moments when I am doing nothing more than grooming the carpet that my mind drifts to the outer regions of nowhere and an opportunity for deep thinking presents itself.

And there it was, Bono, our hero - the man whom Scotty Dean would probably call a saint if you gave him the microphone. Now I am not really interested in whether or not you think Bono has done good in the world – but I think you are foolish to say that he has no influence – and on the same hand I am interested.

It occurs to me that we as Christians think we are in need of a leader. We long for that hero to show us how to live our lives, to take us out of our lukewarm beds and show us what ‘making our faith real’ is all about. And so we search all over the world in search of this person who meets a billion other people’s prerequisites of what a good leader should be. And we then inevitably find ourselves sitting over dinner claiming that the millions of dollars raised, and countless lives that have been altered by a suggested hero, does not quite cut it.

And then, during the back stroke of the vacuum that groomed that rug oh so well, I realized that we were not really looking for a hero, we were looking for Jesus. Think about it. How many times have I found someone who longed for change, a willing leader who was asking me to follow him or her, how many times have a critiqued one of them about; their hair, social drinking habit, poor choice of words, oral communication, poor planning, children, or any number of things. We consistently find a way out of giving ourselves to a cause because the leader of that cause, or even the cause itself is flawed?

We want a real, live, PHYSICAL display of Christ to come and show us what needs to be done, and how to do it, because those words in the Bible that are so often misinterpreted do not seem to be cutting it. And frankly, I know what they say, but let me see you live them out in perfection, and if you can do that then I will follow you. But until then, I am going to sit here in my – you name it; alcoholism; promiscuity; apathy; arrogance; - selfishness feeling sorry for myself and frustrated with the church.

We are selfish, and I will be the first one to admit it. I want Jesus to come here and show me what to do. I do not want to have to try and forgive that person, or clean pu my lifestyle, because is that really what He wants? He says yes she says no. So we say screw it, and until some one turns this grey world into something black and white I will not budge from pleasing my every selfish desire.

We don’t get a fleshly Jesus. And even if we did would it really fix things the way we think He would? He has given us each other, this broken and beat down fellowship of believers called the church. That’s are hero. Kind of a let down isn’t it? Here’s the thing the church was never made to function with one hero. It was made so that each one of us could play our part – whether that part that we play receives the credit we deserve or not – and together in wholeness minister as Jesus, in many ways never could. We need to stop being bitter and calling down those in leadership who have the courage to try and consistently fail, and back them up, playing our role, and give them the influence and support that we all need to succeed. Because I am sure you could look around and see that the church is not what it was supposed to be.

Good thing there is still hope. We’ve got time to make a difference, time to destroy our apathy and take up our roles. We just need to make sure that we somehow use the grace and the humility that’s freely given from Him and work together to make a difference. We are all broken; so let’s use each other’s pieces to fill in our holes.

Let us be heroes.

If It’s Funnier Than It Is Wrong Do It…

The preceding statement was at one point a staple of how I lived my life. Now some years later, it is something that I want nothing to do with. I have been a witness to many a funny thing in my day – in no way am I myself claiming to have what someone might call a humor bone – things from the outbursts of an off the wall comment, to the fluorescent light battles that seem all to common in our cities back alleys. But what I have seen is the destruction of myself and my fellow comrades spiritual growth a different points in our walks through this very concept of humor.

My findings have been this; we as Christians seem to in an overall sense do quite well when it comes to living out our faith in public. We do not cuss, we are polite, we will even drop a five dollar bill into a buskers basket once and a while (I once saw a man playing buckets full of glass, and he was good, how can you not support that kind of talent?) and of course there is always a smile on our face. But follow that same Christian home, and over to his friends house for a party – were talking about Christians, so a party is the concept of hanging out in the same house where nobody has any idea of what to do prompting everyone watch a movie, probably a new one where everyone will fall asleep, missing any and all memorable moments – and things tend to shift. If you listen closely you will hear a certain familiarity come out, a certain comfort with the crowd.

In my own experience I have heard many a crass word, joke or conversation, most often within the group of my Christian friends. In fact I have seem a number of people get frustrated with the amount of personal attack, racial jokes, sexual discussions, and sarcasm. It’s as though we leave out faith at the door and let out everything we keep covered throughout the day. I kid you not I have walked into a setting where a group of males who were being trained to be evangelists were living; by the time I left that that building some 10 minutes later I had vomited on the road from the amount of homosexual talk and actions taking place. But if it’s funnier than it is wrong do it right? Of course there was a lot of ‘humorous’ shock value that brought this kind of awkward smile to our faces. Why is Jackass so popular? Shock value; where else would you see a man thrust a fish hook through his cheek and go fishing with himself as bait in shark infested waters?

I have also come across a number of people whom are either new to their faith or not well founded in their faith, who are lost on the idea of people acting like that. “I can’t tell them from my non-Christian friends,” “My friends who aren’t saved have better morals than my Christian friends.” It has even come to the point where I am finally hearing people questioning their faith on the very basis that they see people following other faiths or no faith at all, living better lives than their Christian friends. This is not an attack to say separate yourself from the world and circle the wagons as it were, but it is a call to plead with you to live your faith without compromise at every moment of your life. Again I’m only stating these thoughts out of frustration from my own life, my own experience to get a laugh – which even with shock value seemed to get me no further. Perhaps a book on humor… How can you be leading someone to the Lord one moment and the next moment be engaged in a mocking display of sinfulness? I plead with myself and those whose sarcasm leads them to a place of comfort in sin, to step up and live a life of no compromise, whether your in public or private, because either way God sees our actions.

I Think My Individualism Has Betrayed Me…

How often is it that we walk down a street as were window-shopping, glance in the mirror and secretly think to ourselves, “hey I look pretty good”? When we check out our attire we see that were sporting our own look, which no one else has modeled (yet), were living on our own in a nice apartment around the corner chalk full of the newest IKEA products. We also have a cell phone full of the numbers of all the people we have met on our extroverted excursions. It is a wonderful world living on our own, freedom to do what we please, and no one to tell us what to do. Although after living two years
This individualism transfers quite easily to our faith as well. We go to our local church and sing our songs that praise the Lord from the viewpoint of I, “I will worship you God, only you God” (Although I do notice a shift taking place). And while these things are not necessarily unacceptable things, because as many people can serve as examples, they live wonderful lives unto the Lord, I would suggest that there is more to be had. These same people can be seen on street corners preaching, homeless shelters handing out food, outside of certain movement protesting against something that they consider wrong. And what happens the majority of the time? We leave feeling better about ourselves having done something to fight against the social injustice that we are oppressed by. We, as in ourselves, and only ourselves.

This is where this idea of individualism that I have wholly embraced kills me; I cannot do it on my own. Now I know you are thinking that I’m about to tell you that we need God to do it for us – and we do – but my point is that we need each other. We do not need hundreds of millions of Christians each doing their own things – while they are still 3good things yes – but when we try to accomplish stomping out hunger in our cities on our own we can only do so much. Imagine if all the churches in a city gathered together in one voice to collectively tackle a problem, whatever it is, and imagine the impact form that. The Sr. Pastor of the Mars Hill church (not Rob Bell) in Grand Rapids approached his mayor and asked him what his church could do for the city because he had an army of 10 000 people longing to bless where they are needed. We need this kind of action in our world.

We are a body, and if each part of the body tried to be a body itself, we will do nothing except for immobilize this body, rendering it useless. God himself said that we could accomplish anything if we work together, read it in the story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis; “Nothing will be impossible for them.” (NLT). We need to work together to stomp out issues and stand united against issue, but more importantly, for issues; instead of just throwing money at a problem, or only praying – again these are good but by themselves can be limiting - because faith without works is dead. Someone, somewhere has to be the answers to those prayers, so why not out ourselves in the position to be used to accomplish it? So get together, work together, lay down your selfish desires, and long to corporately live out your faith, and truly see change in your world – You’re not alone.

Even When It Hurts…

I long to be in control…of everything. I try and plan my life out to the most intricate detail, hoping and sometimes genuinely believing that things will work out as I had planned. My problem then lies with my innate ability to always ask the Lord to have His way in my life, and to do as He wills, because it is the thing I ultimately desire.

A tension perhaps?

My goodness it can be so frustrating to leave things in His hands, and it’s only frustrating because I obviously want things to be my way. It’s quite the challenge to trust him with everything. I find myself thinking about this or that often to the point of anxiety, and anxiety that that interrupts my sleep. I long to have the desires of my heart, I also long to know where He is guiding me, for Him to define and color in these passions that seem to be bursting at my rib cage.

Yet things don’t go as planned, they never seem to…ever. But in the midst of my struggle with control over my life you’ll find me with a smile on my face – (because for one thing I think I smile in my sleep but even more so) I’ve begun to learn that even when it hurts, the Lord is good. This seems to be my theme for this season I’m walking through, having many wonderful things cross my mind, and then realizing that it’s either not time yet, or never going to happen, or the Lord has other plans. But in the end that’s what I long for whatever He wants. Even if I have to cut out the passions that rage so widely inside my heart, or the dreams that I have to tranquilize just so I can take my next breath. Even if all that I desire has to be laid down and forgotten…He is still good.

It seems the song ‘Blesses be your name” never seems to escape being played in our churches, yet every time we sing it, it comes back to me with new and revived meaning…’when I’m found in the desert place, blessed be Your name’.

I love the Lord, with all I am, and even now as He asks me to lay down things I know He has placed in my heart I trust Him, because He is good, and He knows best…

Even when it hurts….really…really badly.

My Aging Regret...

So I think I think to much…case and point.

This past week at Veteran camp I had to walk through some very hard teachings. Things that dealt with very charismatic teachings, the ideas of ‘glory dust’, literal visits to heaven, 50k gems falling out of the sky; like I said, very complicated teachings if you haven’t grown up in these circles.

What I found myself thinking after being overwhelmed by such teaching, is what I learned in my first few days in Bible College, “Let God shape your theology, not the other way around.” I have never desired to be the person who doesn’t accept anything because I think it’s too easy to find a flaw in things and criticize them until I’m convinced of my position. But at the same time I do not desire to wholly accept everything that comes down the pipe, because as we all know that would be oh so foolish, because while I wish it weren’t this way, heresy is much too common. So I will wrestle with what took place, but I don’t wish to dwell on that for this post.

One thing that was brought up this past week was the idea of being like a child. It’s in the Bible where Jesus asks us to be like them, but what does that mean? When I think of a child, I see them wholly loving their father, as though he can do no wrong. “My dad could beat up your dad”, “My dad is superman”, “My dad can do anything.” They just want to be abandoned to their fathers will, spend time with him, listen to him talk and tell stories, go for walks. That child would do anything to be with their father. It continues in an all out trust, where the child believe that there can be no literal harm coming to them when they are resting within the arms of their pops. Think about it, can you remember a time when you were sacred and you ran down the hall screaming for your father to come and rescue you form whatever shadow was moving on the wall?

It’s so interesting to think about for my relationship with my Heavenly Father. How often do I have a completely abandoned trust to him? How often do I wish to be apart of his life, doing whatever He asks? I can remember my dad asking me to find him a hammer, and then racing to go find it because he asked me. I like to think of David when he was racing with complete abandoned toward Goliath, knowing full well that his Father was watching out for Him. David was safe in his Fathers arms. What about the time when Moses was on the shore of the Red Sea? Was he not completely consumed, entirely trusting and hoping that his Father would be there for him? I can just imagine being in that vulnerable position on the shore, eyes damp with tears, knowing full well that I needed Him, my Father to help me do this.

I long to be that child again. I want to be in a place where I don’t stop and analyze a situation three different ways before taking the first step. I want to be rushed with excitement the moment my Father asks me to do something for Him. I want to be completely secure in all His promises, wholly trusting anything that is from Him. Father, my cry is that I would be like a child, safe and joyful in Your arms, ready and willing to do all you require with me.

Let’s go for a walk…

Learning to Love Heartbreak…

This summer on the Admissions team for FGBC has been such a wonderful opportunity. I have been placed on a team with a lot of loving people, all whom share the same heart for the college. It has been exciting to watch each of us walk through our unique journeys and be there to help each other out during the times when it is deemed necessary.

The Lord is good seems to be the phrase on my heart for this season, He seems to be revealing to me how He provided for all my needs and more. It can be at time very humbling to watch as my Father takes care of my not only my needs but often my desires. I find myself in prayer more often than ever before because He has taken me to a place of intimacy where He is my strength, my source, my identity.

Very recently though I have been faced with a situation I would a first glance choose to avoid; heartbreak. This idea was shoved into my face a little while back when I was hit with the realization that I would have to leave this college someday. The shock was overwhelming as I thought and pondered all the opportunities and relationships I would be missing out on. It was oh so frustrating as I felt that the Lord was taking me away from those desires I know He placed in my heart.

Thankfully for me the confusion was there only a brief moment as I had wisdom placed before me by my father. “Greg, you put you heart into everything you do so when the Lord takes you away from the current place you are in it’s going to hurt. This is a good thing because it shows you care. But don’t dwell on the fact that your heart is broken and things are shifting and changing, dwell on the fact that the Lord is taking you into the even greater things He has planned for you.”

These words made sense to me and helped calmed my heart as it had began to race into the unknown. He’s in control and in order to move me into the next plans He has for me I’ll have to walk through that heartbreak. It’s a common theme in my life now that I have the perspective needed to view it. And even though it still hurts and brings floods to my eyes and aches to my heart, I’m blessed with the fact that this is a good thing, and that I’m being prepared for the next leg of my journey. This is how I’m learning to love heartbreak.

Well I Guess It Was Fathers Day...

I have been blessed to be home for this Father’s Day weekend and spend some time with my family in the midst of one of my closest friends weddings. During this weekend I encountered a lot of things; unconditional love, a desire to ride a bull, a desire to sell those bulls I ride, a desire to always be in the midst of community, and my unnatural ability to beat my brother Luke in a wrestling match.

But this Sunday is a day for Fathers. A day which unlike mothers day is often over looked. It’s a day committed to fathers, but so many of us have been left, abandoned or burned by our fathers can you really blame them for being slightly apathetic to the idea of celebrated this scarred sect of men?

Throughout my life I can remember days where I have really had an opportunity to sit back and reflect on the blessings the Lord has laid upon me, and today being like any other day was one of them. Today I was thankful, as I am everyday, for my Father.

Growing up I always felt I had to make my father proud, to prove myself for him by getting excellent grades, competing in sports, living a moral lifestyle, and doing things well. I can remember the moment like it was yesterday that my father, at a service at Street invaders when I was nineteen found me in the back of the service and told me he was proud of. “I’ve waited nineteen years to hear those words” I sobbed to him. My father for me is a man I am so proud to know and honored to share in his family. He never had a father to teach him the ways of fathering, so he is in some ways flying by the seat of his pants. I love the fact that he is learning on the fly and is not afraid to admit when he makes mistakes. I love that fact that his occupation, Executive Director of Apostolic youth Ministries, gives him the opportunity to be a father to so much more. I love that fact that he is always looking out for me, reads my blogs without letting me know, and prays for me on a daily basis.

I want to thank you, Lawrence Elwood Moore, for your constant input, leadership, guidance, support, and love in my life. I am truly honored to call myself your son, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life wearing that title proudly. You are a wonderful man of the Lord and if it wasn’t for your example day in and day out of how to live my life for the Lord, I would not be who I am in this moment, and I will not be who I become in the future, for our Fathers glory. Thanks dad.