Shredding the Gnar: a Lesson in Balance

I hit the slopes with my board yesterday afternoon to shred and balance my full week with a full weekend. The morning had proven cloudy, but as I parked  and stepped out of my Jeep in the lot, the sun peeked out. And stayed out for another 3 hours. Perfect.  I was alone with no distractions. Just me and a time. For nearly 2 hours, I had nothing to think about. Just the beautiful and blessedly warm day.  But my day was abruptly interrupted when I heard someone yell loudly. It was a guy's voice. It sounded panicked. And close.

 WHAP! (The hit) POW! (The flying powder) BOOM! (The fall)

Next thing I know, I'm down for the count. He's ahead of me about 15 ft., sprawled out on his back, still strapped in his board. My hat and goggles are scattered behind me, which were politely given to me by his friend who was apparently behind him. Needless to say, I only stayed about another 1/2 hour beyond that to head to the grocery store and go home ASAP with my back feeling like I was missing a few discs and wishing my head would be missing, if only to momentarily dull the pain.

Snowboarding, especially when you're new, is about balance. Yes. As cliche as it is, it's a lot like life. And, as I so surprisingly found out, so is the risk of being hit from behind.
In these last several months, it seems I have struggled to find balance between leisure and work, work and ministry, ministry and it's catalyst, that accelerant and the process, the process and it's product. I find myself questioning everything right now, where I am living, the ministry I am involved in, the job I am doing, and some friendships. And I am questioning as to why am I doing what I am doing,
and if I want to even continue as I am. Do I hope for too much? Do I have what it takes?

How is your balance? 

(2 Peter 1:3-11) the Message

3 Everything that goes into a life of pleasing God has been miraculously given to us by getting to know, personally and intimately, the One who invited us to God. The best invitation we ever received! 

4 We were also given absolutely terrific promises to pass on to you - your tickets to participation in the life of God after you turned your back on a world corrupted by lust. 

5 So don't 

lose a minute in building on what you've been given, complementing your basic faith with good character, spiritual understanding, 

6alert discipline, passionate patience, reverent wonder, 

7warm friendliness, and generous love, each dimension fitting into and developing the others. 

8 With these qualities active and growing in your lives, no grass will grow under your feet, no day will pass 

without its reward as you mature in your experience of our Master Jesus. 

9 Without these qualities 

you can't see what's right before you, oblivious that your old sinful life has been wiped off the books. 

10 So, friends, confirm God's invitation to you, his choice of you. Don't put it off; do it now. Do this, and you'll have your life on a firm footing,

11 the streets paved and the way wide open into the eternal kingdom of our Master and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Did you hear that?! Do you see it?! If you are a believer in Jesus, then, you have already been given
everything you need for Life and Godliness! You already have the motivation you need to balance!
Look at verse 10. See? There it is! "Life on a firm footing".

So, when you get hit from behind and you don't even know what happened, just sit there and quietly decide to never give up. Perseverance may be you deciding to try the run again or you may have to walk away and go home. But the very fact you are being forced to make a decision on how to persevere means you have already found your balance.

Old Promises of a New Mercy

I asked a friend what it was about New Years that she enjoyed so much; her excitement to stay up late and fill the evening with games, food, and the town's fireworks display seemed a bit over the top. Her personality did not make it strange to me that she was so motivated in everything, only that there seemed to be more behind it. With an impish grin, she exclaimed, "I just love the concept of starting something over". 

My response? I don't believe I have one. You see, like many, I am a type-A personality. Us perfection - driven freaks love the pressure of getting things right the first time. (Yes. Despite what we profess and display, we are indeed very messed up and has much to do with our misplaced identities, but that's an entirely separate conversation). 

Ok, honestly? Her answer made me cringe. And now that I am sitting here typing this, I am convinced that this annual, celebratory, kiss-the-stranger-next-to-you, drinking, be-there-in-Times-Square bash is exactly what I often times spend the whole year trying to avoid. The idea of needing to begin again, start over, and another 365 days (and every four years, 366 days) being before me to tackle make me...tired. 

You know as well as I do that trying to live a better year is simply not possible. We do the same things every year. We resolve our ambitions. We remember our ancestors. We fight, forgive, and forget. And here's the kicker: we get older. Even if you managed to workout more, eat a little less, pay off more of your mortgage, save a bit more for a get-away, or whatever, you. Are. Older. And you know what that means...you are older. And wiser.

You are wiser because you have learned, and you have learned because you have made mistakes. There. I said it. You buckled under the pressure. You ate that cake. Proverbial or literal hardly matters. You said, "no" when you should have said, "yes". And vice-versa. Or you did what you swore you would never do. You were weak. You were overbearing and bulldozed a friend. You lost your temper. You were passive. Selfish. Lazy. I could go on, but I will refrain from boring you with all of my personal flaws. (There's not enough space on this page).

Every year, my heart and soul resolutely decide to "get it right". And thanks be to God that I failed miserably. And I don't mean it's sad. I mean I was nowhere close to satisfying myself with my level of accomplishment, let alone God, Himself. I mean absolutely and utterly. Failed. And yet here I am. 

Having to start a year over, whether I want to or not. Now, hear me out, I am not negating the victories of the past year. Rather, in an ironic way, I am affirming them. 

In short, you and I will never "get it right" the first time. There is no such thing. But consider this: the necessity to do things "right the first time" was never stated, suggested, or required by God. No where in scripture or even in the cycles of our celebrations is there ever an implication that we are supposed to even "get it right", let alone "the fist time". The Bible is filled to the broad brim with stories, confessions, pleas, and promises of MERCY. 

I suppose I write this more for myself as a reminder; Instead of seeing the New Year exclusively as a "year" and associating all the things that have, had, and will happen, I want to see "NEW".

Lamentations 3:22-25

"The Lord's loving kindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassion never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. "The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore, I have hope in Him." The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.

Kyrie Eleison

"What if our closeness to Christ actually increases the frequency of our requests for His mercy"?

This is one of Robert Gelinas' questions posed in his book, The Mercy Prayer: the One Prayer Jesus Always Answers.

For many of us, this question challenges the typical thought that the longer our relationship with Christ is, the more we know Him, and therefore, the more we receive His life and leave our flesh behind. It seems to make sense. It seems biblical. Spend more time with Him and get to know Him. Build up a bit of knowledge and solidify your understanding and commitment. More of Him, less of us. It all eventually equals eternal life, an everlasting relationship of perfection and intimacy. But, what if there is a chance that the Eastern Orthodox Church's theologians were right in there belief of the nature of mercy?

What if we have this backwards? What if we reverse the order?

The moment we realize our need is the moment we cry out, "Mercy"! We have an immediate need to be relieved both from the consequences of our sin and the compressions of our suffering. So, we by pass all proper precautions of protocol and desperately claim the intimate, eternal life - Jesus - as our Perfector. To acknowledge our desperate state and His redemptive self simultaneously is to utter 

, "Lord, have mercy".

Scripturally, these encounters with Christ were always outlandish outbursts. No scheduled appointments were made. No quiet approach. No polite preparation. Just normal, frantic, desperate, sinful, suffering people unable to bear the weight of pain, whether self - inflicted or circumstantial, pleading and crying out for anything but justice to be done. It was common.

There is an exchange then, one of the refusal of self for the acceptance of the wrath being withheld; consequently, we gain more of Him. And because we have gained Him, we now are privileged with the pleasure of getting to know Him and enjoy the relationship.

"The closer you get to God, the more you see His mercy. God is most merciful, and the more we see of Him, the more mercy we desire."

Prior to The Incarnation, a person entered the Tabernacle's outer courtyard to worship. A ceremonial bowl of water represented the need to be cleansed. Burning incense represented the need for prayers to be offered. There was no other way to get closer to God. In the inner most and intimate area of the Tabernacle was the Holy of Holies, a space saved for only the High Priest to annually be in the presence of God. One man, once a year, to end up near the Ark of the Covenant, where upon which God sat between two golden images of Cherubim - the Mercy Seat.

And now, because he has died and is alive, our worship now begins in His presence and with His mercy. It begins with the intimacy. And now, in the outer courts of our heart are both prayer and expressions of our righteousness; they that which were once mere catalysts for knowing Him are now the very proof of the same.

"Therefore, let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16

CrossRoads

Two years have 

Passed

By one another

Laid

Like two roads

Crossed 

Above and below

Carefully

Made

One road 

Both a beginning 

and

An end

Another

The endless struggle

To me

Like a daily friend

Tell me

Why do I question

Where I stand

When the issue 

Then

Is not 

What I do

But who I am

Two hands have 

Clasped

To one another

Prayed

Like two roads

Crossed

Above and below

Carefully 

Stayed

One road

Both a beginning

And

An end

Another 

The chosen struggle

To be

My daily Friend

Tell me

Why do you question

Where you stand

When the issue

Then

Is now 

What I did

And Who I AM

adventure walker

One day, a traveler walked into an adventure. “The Prelude” was gradual like most introductions to new experiences are. It was easy, full of promise, and flecked with the occasional delusion of grandeur. September and October were fueled by feeling, an eager desire, an earnestness to be busy. The most overwhelming part of the beginning was simply being acquainted with the cultural differences that would later become somewhat normal due to proximity and frequency of the current circumstances. Though there were minimal times of doubt and wondering if a mistake had been made to begin the adventure at all, the Prelude’s major moments were ones of confidence and excitement.

November showed up and met with the traveler and so began “The Settling”. A two week holiday in the big city was to be the only preparation for the non-stop journey ahead. For nine long, busy weeks, the traveler never went anywhere, but instead remained and found time grew short with more business. This time was not so easy. The promises had seemed to fade and the few delusions that had been were now utterly gone. Energy was no longer drawn from the heart, for the soul was quickly depleting from the long lesson in abiding. Patience ebbed and energy was tested in long nights of practicing daily self-discipline; the mind was doubting often and the heart was feeling less adventuresome. Confidence and excitement were replaced with the focus of how to be stayed.

By the beginning of the year, everything had changed yet again. “The Closure” greeted quickly and was more abrupt than the previous two had been. A change in living space and leadership responsibilities threw the dynamics of daily life and the need for cadence together. The end seemed foreboding of loneliness and overwhelming responsibility. And in truth, it was just that. Stress within the confines of both limited resources and time available was a dangerous mix bordering on the verge of emotional insanity and upheaval. Doubt no longer had time to subsist and so left behind only the hope of a well-ended journey. Though weariness was present, there was still a need to be focused on yet another transition.

Transition is by definition a shift, a change, an alteration. But this move will not be typical. This transition will involve a binary effort – a going back while moving forward. Ironic that closure should involve both procession of time and progressive movement. But all is to the end of finding the finish is at the beginning where the adventure began. In a week, the 6 months will find its end. The trip will be left in the past with all its times and hopes un-deferred, trapped in memory. And the traveler will go home, to rest. And then, in the future, in a time known only to One, another story will begin,  “One day, a traveler walked into an adventure…”

“Have you ever been to a slum?”

That was the question last night that was posed to the girls last night. As the discussion went on, my thoughts drifted to that day back in December where I met a boy named Christopher in the city of Ooty.

The first time I saw Christopher, he was outside of his house. The only walkway leading to his home was a steep, well worn line through the hillside grass. His home is made out of mud and cow dung that his mother collected by hand. She had to do it all herself because Christopher’s father is blind.

I could see the cracks where the unstable walls were beginning to crumble away from rain and weather, the pathetic efforts of patch jobs that only heightened its futility. Where there were gaping holes, I saw torn pieces of shirts and sheets. Some holes were just stuffed with anything – trash, clothes, plastic bags, torn tarps. The roof was laid flat across the top. Sticks stuck together with the same compounds that created the walls and holes filled with garbage. To enter his house, I had to put my head down. My eyes had to adjust from the lack of light – it was pitch black.

I stared at the room that was no more than 10ft by 10ft. Christopher and his 9 siblings sleep together on the floor with their parents in the bag his mom pieced together from old saree material. In the other room, half its size, only a 5ft. pile of clothes with a dozen water jars filled with unfiltered water occupy the rest of the space in their house. There is no kitchen. No bathroom. No furniture. No electricity.

When Christopher’s mother finishes the odd jobs she finds during the day to earn what she can, she stops by the bakery. But not to buy bread. She can’t afford it. So, she offers to sweep the owner’s floor. She will collect the crumbs and bundle them together and take it home for Christopher to eat for dinner. When there is no food, Christopher must go to school without a lunch. He’s been caught stealing other’s food because he is so hungry.

This is Christopher’s life. This is where he lives. And sadly, this is what defines his life. He is a slum child whose only offense in life is being born poor.

But there is hope on the horizon…

The question asked last night was sparked out of a need for prayer. Because there is a vision. And the girls want to pray over it. So, last night they did. They prayed that the vision of Christopher’s family having a nice house would be realized someday. That his parents would be able to be given a cow, so they could sell milk and make a decent living. That there would be an opportunity through a growing friendship with Christopher’s mother that would allow some of the Impact Team’s staff into her home to teach her how to clean and keep her house for her family efficiently. They prayed for hope. They prayed for Christopher.

I knew it could be nothing but a sincere, heart-moved prayer. They met Christopher when he was here for VBS last year. And they are aware of the differences between his life and theirs. They know. And they care with all their hearts about those who are hungry. They see them when they look out at the villages as they pass by in the Impact’s school bus to school. They know there are always going to be poor and needy people. Jesus knew that, too. He referred to Himself as the Living Water, The Bread of Life, everyday things that people were well aware that they needed daily.

So, please pray with them for this vision. Specifically for Christopher’s family. As the Lord is familiar with both the physical and spiritual needs of His children and can “sympathize with our weaknesses…let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need.”

Please take a moment to do this before you leave this page…

Runnin' Down a Dream

Well, I am proud to say January went well! After a 4-day break for a Hindi holiday, celebration and festivities for India’s Republic Day, and a full three days of monthly tests, everyone is alive and well. But though the day-to –day things happen, transition is still very much a part of life here. Just as January began with the departure of Susan, so February began with the departure of Rachel. I saw her off at the airport to catch her Dubai-Dulles-Denver flights and I’m so glad she arrived safely!

February for the past few days has been good so far. Different. Studying times are no longer geared for a monthly test, but for Term III exams! But there are still remnants of January to be seen. I attended a Sports Day breakfast this morning. It was a thank you to all of those who organized everything on Republic Day and who placed 1st,2nd and 3^rd in the events. Mostly it was a time of fellowship (complete with a bowl of homemade peanut butter) but there was some informal discussion of what the Bible school students learned about leadership, teamwork and what it means to win/lose.

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win. And everyone who competes in the games exercises self control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore, I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but I buffet my body and make it my slave, lest possibly, after I have preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.” (the apostle Paul’s words from 1Cor.9:24-27).

About a month before I left, I read Richard Foster’s book on spiritual discipline and though I was eager to read it, it stated some very difficult facets of obedience, endurance, and commitment. With just over a month to go here in Coimbatore, the infamous words of my Bible school days ring in my ears. “Finish strong” we were told… Finish strong.

“But as for you, go your way to the end…” (Dan. 12:13).