When a person is faced with life changing, earth shaking ideas, it seems that all they know can be easily torn down. This is my experience of late.
In my world, asking questions is of great value. To be in a community that does not allow questioning is unacceptable to me. However, one must also find the balance between questioning for questions sake, and giving into the concept of mystery when the time is right.
God is that mystery. If there is any one thing I have come to know and embrace in the past fourteen years, it is that he just may be beyond reasonable knowledge. This thought has played a vital role in my life because, If God makes perfect sense one hundred percent of the time, then I have achieved “it”. If he makes perfect sense always, then I have “arrived”. And lets be honest, if you know me, you know I am no where near this so-called arrival.
How do we, those who are entertaining a relationship with God, or those who are deeper than just “trying spirituality on for size” strike this balance between the seemingly hopeless and distant “arrival” of pure understanding, while also coming to terms with knowing pure understanding may not come in our earthly life time? It seems though, that this question may be missing the mark entirely. Is pure understanding of God’s character what we should be after? Or, is the simplest act of hearing him?
The bible is a book full of people’s stories; of their encounters with God; of his people hearing him, or not hearing him. This should be a clue for us. We have been given this book of life testimonies which show that “God says one thing, we do another.” And throughout the bible we see again and again that God speaks. It seems to me that the more important thing than asking questions is striving to hear God. If we do this, his character will be revealed, but even more so, a right relationship will be born so even in the midst of life and understanding being torn apart, his constant voice will answer those deep questions that plague us.
Filed under: Life
An old friend, ex co-worker, artist, husband, soon to be father, musician posted a blog last year that really spoke to me. Today, as it rains outside on the coast of Maine, I sit here, 1500 miles away from home, re-reading what he once said. It’s my heart, and I think you need to read it, also.
“There is a “we” – did you know this? It’s true. We’re out there, pretty much everywhere. Minneapolis. Saint Paul. Chicago. San Francisco. Brooklyn. Chapel Hill and Iowa City and Las Cruces and Portland and beyond.
We’re not a generation. We can’t be defined by our age. Or the fact that we’re the children of a previous “we.” To tell you the truth, we’re a hard group to describe.
We live in old, warped mansions and shoe factories, carved into misshapen sets of three or four or eighty-four. We sit under sagging power lines. We ride bike. We drink tallboys. We smoke cigarettes. We traverse in alleyways that suture the city’s ancient and bloody wounds. We congregate in backyards, porches and stoops—lightly sweated, hoods down, backpacks full of warm six-packs, ears open. We don’t have landlines. We don’t pay for the internet. We don’t call our moms enough. We have too many student loans. We have unsavory debt-to-asset ratios. We have restless legs and arms and hearts and minds. We have things inside us that have to come out.
So we draw. We design. We write. We compose. We rap. We blog. But we’re not attempting to communicate. No, no, not at all. We are trying to stay alive.
We know the score—our own destruction is around the bend. We recognize that life is short, wild, fleeting, a precious and delicate bird just passing through. To waste even one minute of it letting ourselves be defined by the world rather than defining it ourselves is tantamount to death. To lose control of your destiny is death. To just be along for the ride is death. To answer to the whims of others is death. To simply trade time for money is death. Our friends become our new families because they understand this truth more than anyone else on earth. Our friends are everything we have, and they are our only chance for survival. Our friends are our last, best hope of staving off death for one more day.
And if this at all sounds macabre or overdramatic, then you’re probably not one of us.
So we fight, together, to carve out grand ambitions and larger-than-life dreams. We have to. We have to because the simple and important truth is that if we don’t do something massive and epic and powerful and fucking monumental and if we don’t do it right fucking now as soon as humanly fucking possible—well, then we die. We wither and we rust and we die. We’ll be dead by all measures that really matter and, and, and, and…
And this is what defines us, unities us, draws us to each other inexorably. We’ve each had our eyes opened to harsh truths: life is brief, mediocrity is tragic, and the status quo is a shallow grave. If you understand this, everything else is irrelevant. Creation is not a medium of expression, but a desperate attempt to survive. Medium and genre and message aren’t sacrosanct—they’re simply means to an end, tools to participate and prevent your one fleeting time in this universe from being a colossal and tragic waste.
So rappers are illustrators. Bloggers are composers. Photographers are designers. Sculptors are rappers. Architects are painters. Writers are bloggers. Designers are illustrators. Since creation is a tool and not an expression, it’s all a part of the same family. Empathy is king. We recognize the symmetry of desperation across boundaries. Collaboration becomes a necessity rather than an obligation. Combining forces makes us all stronger, more powerful, more effective in the struggle to survive.
But this isn’t a movement. There’s no ideology, no edicts, no rallying cries, no worldwide zeitgeist. We’ve seen that before and we hold it in respect and regard. But what we’re doing is different. This isn’t about creating a better future, a safer and cleaner world, a fair and equitable and just utopia. No, no, no, not at all.
This is a fight to save our very lives. This is survival. And we do it every day, everywhere, all the time. From coast to coast. From border to border. From hardland to heartland. And we can’t stop. Not ever. This is a fight to the death.”
Written by Jeff Allen, May 18, 2007, http://pureheartedwarriors.blogspot.com/
The redemptive quality of God is astounding. Here, I have been given almost identical life circumstances; an almost identical set of choices and this time around I am choosing what is Good.
When I was 18 I moved out of my parents house, for fitting my personal motivations by choice, to be part of a worship internship in Kansas City, MO., and instead moved into a tiny studio apartment where my boyfriend proceeded to pretty much live with me. That year, the age of my youth if you will (like I’m so old now), was the year of my “bad choices.” While I will never regret that part of my life, the stories I have, the love I lived and gave and the mistakes that taught me a little more about myself, I willingly admit that I was completely out of God’s will for my life by choosing carnal pleasures instead of eternal bliss.
So here I am. I’m 21 and reflecting on what God has done in the past 3 years. After my year of deliberate carnal living, God restored me by giving me my family in full force, taking care of me while I was emotionally beaten and bruised. He redeemed that part of my life. Next, the deep desire to be part of a worship leadership school was fulfilled. By the providence of God I found The Institute of Contemporary and Emerging Worship Studies, and everything about it seemed to fit. This time I was not going to pass up the opportunity I was being given. Three years later, God was presenting me with the same options and choices I had when I was 18. It’s a bit ironic really. I have now completed the 8 month program that took place in St. Stephen, New Brunswick, Canada and instead of moving home I now live in Calais, Maine. After moving into my new home, with an amazingly loving family from the church I attend in St. Stephen, I was driving home from a friends in shock, realizing that “tonight I sleep in a room by myself.” The thought of living alone, without roommate, without boyfriend, without Mom or Dad scared the crap out of me. And then I realized, this is God’s redemption. I was given an opportunity to live alone, and I chose to live with my boyfriend instead three years ago. However now, I have the same choices, and I am choosing to embrace the independence in myself in the midst of the dependence I willingly have for God. This is God’s redemption. It’s hard, being reestablished rightly, but it is completely worth the transformation.
Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God— this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is— his good, pleasing and perfect will.
Romans 12:1-2
It’s Saint Patrick’s day and I am sitting in a sunbeam. I love that it’s seven o’clock and the sun is still up. And even better is that on the east coast the wind kicks up the dust on the ground and moves the trees, so the shadows of the trees move too and fro on the walls of this room. It’s 34 degrees out, with no clouds in the sky and I want to be sitting outside with a big sweater, an irish coffee and a beautiful wooden pipe, listening to Dave Matthews Band.
Today is one of those days when I remember the beauty that comes from what normally seems dreary in the “in-between-winter-and-spring-time”.
God is even here.
I haven’t posted in a long while, hey? I suppose I’ve been so busy ranting about the church in class that I haven’t had time to let the internet world know where my head space has been as of late. I also don’t work in an office anymore, so my free time is less.
I am in the process of trying to figure out what the next year will bring me. The Institute is coming to a close and my options are just beginning to come to the surface. I am however hoping for an internship under a worship pastor to gain even more hands on, practical worship experience.
Since I’ve been here in St. Stephen, I have written around eight new songs, and another one is in the works. Two of them are accessible worship songs, some are less accessible worship songs, and the others focus on relationships and family. Once I have better MP3 recordings I plan on posting some of them on my blog so you can have a listen.
In other news… God has really been impacting me with the churches call to take care of the poor, widow and orphan. I do not know what that is to look like in my life, however, my heart continues to grow in that area and I see aiding the poor in both poverty and poor in spirit in my future. I have also become antsy to travel. I have a deep desire to go and live in other places for around a year, just to have the experience under my belt and once I am ready to make roots, move back to Minnesota to remain close to family.
I suppose that is about all I’ve got for now. Check back later, and hopefully I will update you more!
As I was standing on my porch around twelve in the morning, breathing in the cold air and breathing out the clove smoke I realized something rather simple about myself.
Only I can hold myself accountable.
I am a person of need. All of us, whether we choose to accept it or not are. I need to be in a community of people who allow me to be vulnerable, and with that comes accountability. However, no matter how many people know what I am going through only I am in charge of me. Is it a new level of maturity? Maybe. I just know that the fruit of my life will be shown through that which grows inside of me, and if I continue to choose poor, unhealthy things I will continue to feel poor and unhealthy.
“The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice.” George Elliot
Filed under: Life
Why do we love our hometowns? I’ve been contemplating that question since I arrived here in St. Stephen. To say it bluntly, I miss home. My heart belongs to Minneapolis. However over the past few weeks I’ve been concerned as to why I love Minneapolis. Sadly, Minneapolis isn’t my hometown, (because Chaska is) however I lived there for a year and I miss the city dearly.
Could it be that when home I can drive twenty five minutes and be surrounded by city lights and dirty-snow covered streets? Could it be that driving down 35W north just passing over Lyndale Ave. I can see the city line reaching toward the often smog filled sky? Is it the deadly merge from 94 westbound onto the Hennipen/Lyndale Ave. bridge?
Minneapolis quiets itself at night. It becomes peaceful. There are not a lot of metropolitan areas that mellow at night. During the day the hustle and bustle is more than apparent. Cars of every type. Like that old SUV in Uptown that has the makeshift tarp roof. Or the SUV that still to this day is parked outside of my old apartment building on Emerson and Franklin. Even better than cars are bicycles. Everywhere you look, no matter what time of year you have people riding.
Or could it be that during Christmas time Hennepin Ave. from Franklin to Lake Street is lite up with twinkle lights? It’s almost magical. Uptown is filled with every type of person. On any street you will find the cliche hipster with their bandanna around their neck and newest trendy pair of sunglasses. Next to them is the clubbing girl in her outfit thats far too small for the seaons–no matter what the season–and next is the bum on the corner who thought Minneapolis was the place to make a quick buck from the most recent passer byer.
Then there is me. The one who sometimes looks the part of the emo-listening, PBR drinking, fixed gear riding girl and tomorrow the rock-climbing, mountain biking girl. We have blank faces, but they are the most beautiful blank faces that make up a city. We are the city.
So maybe its you and I who make up the city that tugs continually on my heart. Maybe its seeing that city line as I drive. Or maybe its because its mine. I am Minneapolis and Minneapolis just might be me.
