Absent For 64 Days

It's been awhile since I've written. 64 days to be exact. And it's strange because so much has happened during those 64 days that one would think many a new post would have been delivered, but I find the more things that happen the less likely I am write.

As many of you may already know I have accepted a new job. I will be taking the position as Executive Director of a pregnancy center called REACH.

I'm super excited about the opportunity to help implement infrastructure, as well as develop a center that will not only help many women, but be instrumental in saving the lives of children. I'm thankful for the chance to take my passion for the prolife movement and utilize it in an influential manner to affect the Northern New York region.

Is there a lot of responibility? A ton.

Is there much faith trusted in me by the board? Massive amounts.

Is there great expectation for the work I'll do? There is.

Yet the daunting task ahead of me does not dissuade me, but rather, it excites and energizes me – driving me to push myself to new realms of understanding and creativity.

The weeks and months ahead prove to be busy, demanding, and full of excitement and vigor. I will do my best to post as often as I can, but not a promise I will make.

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With the acceptance of a new job this means my time at church is going to come to an end. I have worked here since February 2012 – two years and eight months. During much of my time here, whether visibly displayed or internally, I was discontent with where I was at, wishing to leave, to move, to not be working at church. It has only been the last three months or so that I have really enjoyed being here and finally in my heart, been content.

And of course it's right at the moment of contentment, finally being ok and comfortable, that the Lord opens up a new door and moves me.

There is a sadness at the thought that I will be leaving my work at CFC. I care greatly for the local church and its success. I have loved doing all I can to make it a more efficient place and setting up processes that would allow for greater growth and expansion.

To think I'll be leaving this place, the chair, the desk, the girl I've worked next to for 2.8 years...

Big changes.


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If you think I have been an angel to work with throughout the last 2.8 years.... well... you'd be wrong. I wish I could say I came to CFC with energy, excitement, joy, a desire to build and stir up the people around me.

I began my job in a season where I was not doing well spiritually. And for whatever reason they still hired me. And it took several months, maybe even a year before I began to be a team builder.

Then even over the next year and half I was discontent. I wanted to leave.... always. I was here, but my heart was somewhere else, anywhere else.

Yet the leadership, the pastors, they continued to invest in me, to love me, to have patience and speak words of kindness. I personally would have fired me. But for some reason they didn't. And for this I owe a great debt of gratitude to them.

But it wouldn't be fitting to write about my time and soon departure from CFC without acknowledging the patience, grace, forgiveness, mercy, kindness, compassion, and love of the girl who sat three feet away from me for the last 2.8 years. She put up with more than most people ever have to deal with at a job. I think she probably saw her dad more from meetings she had to schedule because of me than she did just normally.

Anyways, she might disagree about all the compassion and caring, and maybe she would think it wasn't always executed perfectly, but I know how both spiritually and emotionally distraught I have been at times, and she was there through it all.

So if she acts a little crazy, or a lot crazy, and does things that causes you to raise an eyebrow, or posts a bajillion selfies – just smile and realize that it was probably me that caused this type of behavior.


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So all this to say, I'm here in the North Country for this next season. Not sure how long it will be, but this I know, I don't want a day to go by where my heart longs to be somewhere else. This is where the Lord has me and I want to be here 100%.

Wakeboarding Part III

Last time on Thoughts From A Recovering Cynic:

At this point my arm was throbbing and relief was all I wanted. It was frozen in an awkward position and I just wanted it to be relaxed.

"As fast as possible" I said.

Little did I know the pain I felt at that moment was but a taste of what was to come. 

----

I arrived, swim trunks still wet and shirtless to the emergency room. To my surprise (and thankfulness) no one else was present and therefore they ushered me right into the ER without even having to wait.

First stop was to see the nurse at the office. He took my blood pressure, asked me questions, and got me checked in. As I sat askew, clearly listing to the left, he asked if it was my left shoulder I had dislocated. I said "Well if it isn't then I have bigger issues than a dislocated shoulder. Little Quasimodo going on here."

Finally the congenial interrogation ended and I was helped to the hospital room where I was greeted by 2 nurses and 2 doctors. One of the doctors asked me to lay face-down on the bed with my left arm and shoulder hanging off. I couldn't. I mean, I didn't know how to lay down when my arm was frozen in front of me. The slightest movements sent excruciating pain throughout my shoulder and back.

With the help of the doctors and a good dosage of pain, I was able to lay down.

Then the doctors began discussing the next course of action with the nurses. In my mind I was going to receive a shot, morphine, something strong, so that I would feel nothing. It only made sense to numb the pain. After all I wasn't in some triage unit in the middle of the jungle 80 years ago. We have modern medicine, modern techniques.

However this was not the case.

Soon both doctors and nurses came to my bed with one nurse grabbing my right arm, another holding my feet, and one doctor grabbing my dangling left hand and the other placing both hands on my left shoulder. I had an uncomfortable feeling with what was about to happen. And without warning the doctor holding my left hand began pulling down and the other doctor pushed on my shoulder.

Now I'm no warrior when it comes to experience with pain. I have neither fought in war, been stabbed, shot, burned, nor given birth. But the pain I felt as they began to pull and push on my shoulder was overwhelming.

Prior to that moment I thought I handled pain well. Clearly I'm weaker than I think because tears formed and streamed down my face while I attempted to silently bear the pain. However I found myself hyperventilating and unable to slow down my breathing.

The doctors kept saying "You need to calm your breathing. Stop tensing your right arm. Stop breathing so fast! Think that you're back on the beach! Don't tense up!"

Yeah. Because this is just like being back on the beach! What type of beaches do you doctors go to anyways??

They didn't stop. They kept going, pushing, pulling, trying to get my shoulder to pop back in.

Nothing.

I'm not sure how many attempts were made, but finally they stopped.

The doctors and the nurses let go and I lay there, paralyzed in pain and breathing uncontrollably fast.

The doctors decided upon discourse that because of my regular workout routine over the previous four months there was "too much muscle" around my shoulder to allow it to be pushed back in.

Normally I would have been flattered by such a comment. But in that moment I was hating myself for having ever gone to the gym.

The doctors decided 10mg of morphine would be needed before attempting to put my should back in. They said "after you get some morphine you won't feel a thing."

After receiving the morphine the doctors returned. This time they had me sit up. One doctor wrapped a sheet around my chest and the other took a sheet and wrapped in around my left wrist. Then they began pulling in opposite directions.

Now if they thought morphine was going to numb the pain they were tragically wrong. Not only did the morphine not numb the pain, but it felt as if I had not been given any morphine at all. I could feel with every synchronized pull, pain shoot throughout my entire left side.

At some point I had hoped to feel a "pop" and then a relief from pain. But this never happened. After pulling several times, the doctors ceased their medieval medical practices and felt my shoulder. "It feels like it's in more than it was before. Not sure it's in all the way though." said one doctor.

Both an X-ray and CAT scan were required before determining my shoulder had indeed gone back in.

I left 2 hours after arriving, exhausted and sore. After grabbing a strong pain killer I promptly headed back to the graduation party to finish out the day's festivities.

Wakeboarding Part II

Last time on Thoughts From A Recovering Cynic:

It happened so quickly I barely had time to think. Next thing I knew I had slammed into the water head first. My body completed a full 360 rotation with the board coming out of the water. After my head had surfaced it took only a second to get my bearings and realize what had happened...  

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Instinctively I raised my right hand – it's the sign we use with water sports to signal that you're ok. But the reason I had lifted my right arm was because I wasn't able to move my left. If fact, I had lost feeling in that arm altogether and there was a warm pain moving down the left side of my shoulder and back.

There wasn't any point in panicking. I was clearly not bleeding and no bones were protruding. And how bad can one really get hurt from water?

My left foot had come lose from the wakeboard while somersaulting across the water and so I used my right arm to unstrap my right foot. I sat there, suspended in water by my life-jacket, thankful for such an invention.

The boat returned to pick me up and my friend who had been spotting asked "You ok?". I shook my head and said "No". I started to swim towards the boat, but realized that the left side of my body (from the waist up) felt paralyzed. I wasn't able to feel or control it. Swimming with half your body paralyzed is shockingly hard to do so my friend tossed me the rope and I grabbed onto it while he pulled me in.

Getting into the boat proved to be much more challenging than I expected. I figured with one arm, and my dominate arm at that, I should be able to pull myself into the boat.

Nope.

Both my friends had to help in order to secure me into the boat where they gingerly removed my life-jacket. One of my friends remarked "Ohh. Yeah. You dislocated your shoulder."

For a split second there was a rush of relief. I had feared I had somehow broken it.

They sat me down and we headed to shore.

The festivities on land had continued and laughter and joyous cries of little ones could be heard in the air. As we approached for docking a few friends on a jetski asked if everything was alright. I'm not sure if I responded or someone else, but if words didn't convey it, perhaps the drop of my left shoulder did – things weren't ok.

We got on land and went looking for the one person who could help us the most – a nurse. She took one look at my shoulder and said "No. I can't fix that. He's going to need to go to the ER."

ER? Seriously? Can't I just move my arm back into place somehow and it be all ok?

I attempted to just move my arm. A sudden jolt of pain ran down my arm, through my shoulder, and down my back.

Nope. Not moving it into place myself.

My friend Dan quickly volunteered to drive me to the ER and as my friends accompanied me to his car I passed a few attendees who were curious as to what happened. After explaining, one attendee said "Should you call your dad? He's disloacted his shoulder many times before hasn't he?"

It was true. My dad had dislocated his shoulder a pleathura of times.

I said "Yeah. I can call him. Just not with my left arm."

I knew if I could still make jokes I was going to be ok.

As I approached my friend's car, my dad happened to be just arriving and came to find out why I was hunched over and surrounded by people. I explained to him what had happened and he said he would meet me at the ER.

I was slowly helped into Dan's car and we headed to the hospital.

Dan, who had dislocated his shoulder but a year ago asked "Do you want me to drive carefully to avoid bumps or faster to get there sooner?"

At this point my arm was throbbing and relief was all I wanted. It was frozen in an awkward position and I just wanted it to be relaxed.

"As fast as possible" I said.

Little did I know the pain I felt at that moment was but a taste of what was to come.

....to be continued

Wakeboarding Part I

Last Saturday I found myself attending the celebration of Justin Daniels' graduation from high school. The festivities were held on the water and with the weather being such a beautiful accompaniment to the day, water activities were a must.

I sat enjoying the refreshing breeze, watching as several enjoyed the water on jet-skis, and surrounded by kids darting about, happily jeering as they ran in and out of the water's edge. Besides being completely picturesque, it really was the perfect day to be out on the water — wakeboarding.

Two of my friends offered to take me out on the boat — one driving, the other spotting — as I attempted to warm up this year's season of wakeboarding.

[NOTE: For those of you who don't know what wakeboarding is, it's like snowboarding on water.]

I was prepared to catch many an edge and have what I expected to be some pretty fantastic face-plants. I told my spotter he should video my first run of the season because he was no doubt going to catch some hilariously painful face-plants.

See with wakeboarding, it's almost inevitable that you will catch an edge at some point. Kind of like Russian Roulette really. It's just a matter of time. And being the first run of the season, it was guaranteed.

I jumped in the water in an attempt to quickly acclimate to the freezing temperatures. And although cold, it was a complimentary contrast to the heat of the day's sun.

So there I was. Sitting in the cold water. Holding tightly onto the rope. The rope had just pulled taught and my friends in the boat were looking at me, awaiting my signal to take off. I was close to shore and it was the first run of the season for me. In fact, it was the first run for anyone behind the boat this year. So in a way, I was christening both the boat (since it's engine rebuild) and the season. I also knew people would be watching from shore to see if I would make it out of the water on my first attempt.

I hadn't wakeboarded behind a boat in 3 years. I couldn't remember how the pull worked. Being towed behind a jet-ski is vastly different from that of a boat. Not only can a jet-ski pull you out of the water quicker, but the wake of a jet-ski is quite small — which means you are less likely to catch an edge resulting in a faceplant.

There was no point in sitting in the water any longer. I gave the signal. I heard the low rumble of the boat as the motors began to roar and felt the resistance of the cold water as I slowly began to rise.

I was fortunate enough to lift out on the first try. I'm not going to lie. It felt good.

It took merely seconds to realize that the wake of the boat was far greater than that of the jet-ski. I knew that if I was going to go "over" the wake, I would need to jump it. Not a big deal. That's really the point of wakeboarding after all.

One thing you must know is that when I jump the wake, I hold onto the rope with only one hand. This allows my other hand to be free for stability. I use the opposite hand of the direction I'm jumping. So if I'm jumping the wake to the left, I hold it with my right hand. If I'm jumping to the right, my left.

I started off simple. Small jumps. Nothing fancy.

I landed them. I felt good.

So I did the next logical thing. I made the jumps a little bigger.

I was 60 or so seconds into my run when as I jumped the wake to the right, I landed, but my weight was too far forward. Instead of catching a toe or heel edge, I had caught the front tip — perhaps the worst place to catch an edge.

It happened so quickly I barely had time to think. Next thing I knew I had slammed into the water head first. My body completed a full 360 rotation with the board coming out of the water. After my head had surfaced it took only a second to get my bearings and realize what had happened...

...to be continued.

The Little Girl I Never Knew

Today began like any other day in the office. My Classical music station on Pandora played in the background as I sat and sifted through emails, enjoying the quiet slow start to my day. 

Around mid morning I received a phone call from my dad. After my initial salutation it was chillingly clear that something was wrong. Before I even knew what it was my heart had quickened because I knew this phone call involved death. I didn't know who though. My mind was racing, going through names, faces, trying to think of who or how someone I knew could have died.

It took only a few seconds for him to relay the news. My cousin and her husband had lost their first and only child this morning to what appeared to be SIDS.

I had never met my cousin's little girl. Her name was Audrie and she was born on April 6 of this year. My cousin had married in the fall of 2012 and both her and her husband were excited young parents who loved this little girl so very much.

Over Thanksgiving I had the opportunity to spend it with them and my extended family, and my cousin, she was probably the happiest momma ever to be. Such a young and eager expecting momma - practically having to practice self-control in anticipation of meeting her little girl.

My cousin had only two months to mother and love Audrie. And mother and love she did.

I honestly don't have a box for all of this. Although close with my cousin and extended family, it still seems like just a horrible rumor - that this tragedy could not have actually befallen my young cousin and her husband. Married not even 2 years, to lose such a treasure so young, to begin your married walk together with such loss, I don't understand. I don't even know if I can sympathize. It's just too... too tragic.

This doesn't happen to people I know. I've heard about SIDS. It happens to... you know... other people. People that are a statistic. People I know, family, they don't lose their 2 month old little girls.

But the reality is, death is no respecter of persons. 

Yet even amidst the tears that my cousin, her husband, and my entire extended family share - there is a hope in Jesus Christ. My cousin and her husband fiercely love the Lord. Her family does too. And through such great loss, there is an assurance that Christ remains in control even when everything else feels like it is completely out of control.

My family is grieving. My cousin and her husband have a hard road to walk ahead of them. Our whole family has a hard road to walk ahead of us as we stand side by side with my cousin, her husband, and her family over this next season. But I have a confidence that somehow, and honestly I don't know how, but somehow, God is going to redeem this.

Death is an enemy. A tragic, horrific enemy. But in Christ there is life - eternal life.

What Words Could Not Tell

Since I can remember, I have always turned to the piano and composition as a way to deal with my thoughts and feelings. Whether joy or sadness, frustration or anger, somehow the piano was always the outlet I turned to to express what words could not. And often pieces would arise from my time sitting at the piano as I "played" away my thoughts.

The last several months have found me sitting for hours at the piano. And from this time, many pieces have begun to form a story that words do not tell. Perhaps in the months ahead I will share all the works that I have written down, but for tonight, I want to share one that I wrote last week as I continued to process the admonition from the prophet to let forgivness flow through me.

I don't have many words to describe the piece other than a piece to help my heart to let go so that forgiveness can come.

90 Days Have Past

April 20, Easter, marked the end of my 90 day commitment to the gym and bible reading that began back in January.

These past 90 days have been good for me - both physically and emotionally. When I first began going to the gym I was a struggling 145 pounds. I am now holding steady at 165 and hope to get to 170 by June.

I am still attending the gym and just yesterday renewed my membership for another year. I am excited to see what type of physical transformation and discipline I will accomplish over the next year as I submit myself to 4 days a week at the gym. 

My time in the Word has been good. Although if I were to be completely candid with you, I have been much more faithful with the gym than I have been with reading the bible. It's embarrassing to admit. I wish I could tell you I have faithfully read my bible every day for the past 90 days. That would be nothing short of a blatant lie though. I have to confess, I have probably missed... 30 days. That's pretty bad actually. Especially for only setting a "90 day" commitment.

Being completely candid with you though, there have been many a day where I have been very discouraged with... well... everything. And one thing I desperately need to work on is not "giving up" completely when I am discouraged.

See the thing about me that perhaps no one knows is that I often get discouraged about my life. I look at my finances, my career, my future, my relationships, my failures, my failed expectations, my losses, and I just give up.  "What does it even matter?" I say. "Nothing is ever going to change." So I just stop trying.

It's been a horrible habit I have always had. Instead of pressing on, instead of getting a hold of Christ and His vision for me, I just stop. I don't consider myself one to be easily overwhelmed. Yet when I take inventory of my life, without fail, I am always left discouraged and feeling claustrophobic.

Discouragement is not new to me nor is it new to humanity. I wouldn't say discouragement is wrong per se, but how one deals with discouragement may be. I would say my response - giving up - is a wrong way to deal with discouragement.

But what do you do when perceivably everything in your life is discouraging to you?

Stopping your time in the Word is definitely not the answer. Neither is sitting for hours listening to your favorite slow Classical works. And driving till your tank is empty is just a waste of money. And vainly attempting to plan out ways to "fix" all those things that discourage you is futile at best. Not that I have done any of these of course.

And not because I have done it perfectly, but because I recently am trying, I find that worshiping, prayer, turning to God in any way is probably the best response to discouragement. Sometimes for an hour I will sit listening to worship music as I intentionally work to focus my mind on Christ and not on the long list of things that are a constant discouragement to my soul.

I pray. Most of the time it's simple and repetitive. "Lord, You know where my heart is at. I don't know what to say. I need You."

I need to afresh get back into the Word. It's hard, especially when you awake every morning to discouragement. But really? Is money, a new car, a big house, relationships, a career, is that really going to remove discouragement and make me content?

No.

But it would help alleviate some of the discouragement.

Regardless though, I want to learn to be content in Christ and in Christ alone. As Paul said in Philippians 4:12:

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want."

My Prophetic Word - Forgiveness

"And I just feel to tell you, let the spirit of forgiveness just flow through you. I believe there's been people in your life that - you've got to let forgiveness go and as you allow that forgiveness to go, God is just going to allow you to just sail along."
– Pastor Charlie Sweet (Saturday, April 5, 2014)

Since September I have found myself traveling what I had hoped would be a short road of forgiveness. And at times I feel like I have finally done it - I've forgiven. But then a photo, a name, a visit, and like the rush of water over the Niagara, unforgiveness flows from my heart.

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I was scheduled for prophetic ministry Saturday evening. Neither of the two visiting prophets knew I was scheduled and I was looking forward to hearing what I hoped would be direction for this season as well as direction for the next.

So you can imagine my surprise when Saturday afternoon, as the final words of prayer were spoken over the last individual and we were getting ready to begin worshiping again, Pastor Charlie grabbed the mic and walked over to me as I sat seated at the piano and began prophesying.

He spoke for only five and a half minutes, yet every second was filled with words about my here and the now. And not only that, most of what he spoke dealt with the deep things of my heart that I have wrestled for months and in some cases years with.

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I've done fairly well on the whole "forgiveness" bit over the years. I'm just not one to hold onto offenses or hurts. Forgive and forget. Move on. That's how I have always lived my life.

Yet this season of forgiveness has been markedly different. There has been little forgiveness and certainly no forgetting. And I knew that the forgiveness I had over and over attempted to extend was merely a facade – and so did the Lord.

I believe there's been people in your life that - you've got to let forgiveness go.

The Lord had seen it happen.... He was there through it all and knew exactly where my heart was that afternoon. He knew my heart was at unrest with unforgiveness. He knew that a "spirit of forgiveness" needed to flow through me.

I honestly don't know how to let a spirit of forgiveness flow. I have tried. Really, I have tried over and over to forgive, fully, lovingly, graciously, mercifully forgive. And although I may not fully know just how to let a spirit of forgiveness flow, I do know that I want Jesus – that I need more of Him. And so as I continue to pursue Christ I am going to trust that He will work in me a spirit of forgiveness as I daily surrender my heart to Him.

It's going to be a much longer road than I had hoped. And today, I am very much at the beginning.

How Do You Recap It?

The last 5 days have been filled with prophetic presbytery here at church. To say that God spoke would be an understatement.

This year was particularly unique in that what God spoke was very specific. In years past, specifics  have been spoken over a few, but not this year. Every. Single. Person/couple called up was given a very specific word.

It was so encouraging (and mind blowing) to see the Lord just speak to people on such a personal level.

How do you recap or attempt to put into words what the Lord did?

This year I received prophetic ministry. The last time I received (formal) ministry was as a high school student in 2006. I was scheduled for Saturday evening, but one of the prophets, Pastor Charlie Sweet, had a word for me at the end of the Saturday afternoon session. So I was blessed with not one, but two rounds of prophetic ministry.

I'm still processing the words spoken over me, so at a later time I will hopefully tell you more about the word I received. 

Unfortunately, words quickly fail my futile attempt to articulate the prophetic meetings. I feel as though I have to somehow document the incredible presence of the Lord, the amazing words spoken both over the church as a whole/individuals, and recall Dr. Wilson's message/challenge to worship the Lord freely.

Yet I cannot do, in words, justice to the move of the Spirit that took place at each meeting. I can only say that this is the first year where I am desirous and anxious to get my hands on every single recording of prophetic ministry that took place. I am eager to relisten to every exhortation and message the prophets shared. CFC, my church, there is a new season upon us and things are about to get crazy yo.

So instead of it being just me off in the corner with my own prophetic word, I am going to listen, read, and listen again to the words people received because what the Lord is about to pour out is going to big and I need to be in tune with what the Lord wants to do with me/us.

The prophetic words this year were not so much just to encourage the individual/couple, but really to let the body of Christ know (specifically) how God is going to use them in the expansion of church ministry and growth.

So for now, I'm going to go and listen, process, and meet with people and pastors about what God has done.

The Fruit Of My Likes/Favorites

"For a good tree does not bear bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its own fruit. For men do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they gather grapes from a bramble bush. A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks."
- Luke 6:43-45 (NJKV)

For the past few months I have been thinking long and hard about this idea - bearing fruit. What's interesting is that Jesus very clearly identifies that we have the ability to bear either good fruit or bad fruit. But more than just bearing fruit, I've been pondering the question "How is the fruit in my life demonstrated?"

What does this proverbial "fruit" that Christ talks about look like?

Obviously the answer would be quite cumbersome should we attempt to exhaustively answer it. So I want to look at one specific platform that said fruit is demonstrated in my life – and perhaps that of many others.

Social media.

I have come to realize that the things I post, tweet, and instagram often reveal what I am thinking, feeling, or believe in. Likewise, the things I retweet, repost, or link to also reveal what I am thinking, feeling, or believe in.

But those are obvious examples.

What's not so obvious (or perhaps as noticeable) is the small click of a like/favorite. When I like/favorite something, it is a way of me showing affirmation and support of said thing. It is an avenue to express my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. The very term "like" demonstrates affirmative support. Therefore, even the simplest click of a like/favorite exposes my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs.

"What's the big deal?" you might ask. "Who cares what you like/favorite?"

This is where it becomes a big deal: When what I like/favorite stands in opposition to Christ and His teachings.

And it's easy for me to disregard my likes/favorites as trivial and insignificant. But those things which I like/favorite divulge what's in my heart and the fruit that's in my life. Is my fruit good fruit? Does it align with Christ? Is it submitted to Scripture? Or is it fruit born from a heart that stands in opposition to Christ and His teachings? A heart that justifies my likes/favorites.

The reality is that people are looking, watching, and observing the things I like/favorite – those things which I support. Today my likes/favorites become notifications that instantly publicize my "fruit" to my friends/followers. And in their notifications, what fruit will they observe in my life? What things will they see me affirm? What things will they see me support?

"Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise,  making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is." - Ephesians 5:15-17 (NIV)

The Shadow Of Emotion

When it comes to emotions I don't consider myself an expect on the topic. However, one thing I do recognize is that emotions are powerful and that for better or worse – we have them.

I hate talking about emotions actually.

It seems like such a (pardon my sexist use of the term) "girly" thing to do. I struggle enough with the frustration of even having to have emotions to begin with, let alone sitting around talking about them... or worse... blogging about them.

But in a season where I am working diligently to surrender a very shattered heart to the Lord, I find myself living under a shadow of unspoken emotion.

I am grateful for the small signs of life and joy returning and I am thankful that once again I have been able to laugh and even be excited. Yet like on a summer day, even though it may be warm there is a noticeable difference between shade and sun. And although you can be warm even in the shade, when you're in the sun there is nothing but hot, often overwhelming warmth.

I am perhaps more aware than ever before that even if not talked about, even if not meditated on, even if not given into, there can be a shadow cast from months (or years) of turmoil, depression, anger, frustration, or whatever. And even as health and stability returns to my life there is still a shadow that lingers from such feelings.

It's frustrating. I wish I could just *zap* be fine, normal, not living under a shadow. But health, forgiveness, love, kindness, compassion, mercy, grace, they are a process.

It's an interesting thing to observe in my life. Because the idea of a lingering shadow of emotion would have seemed wildly insane and most definitely stupid to me a year ago. I probably would have laughed, at least inwardly, had you confessed such a thing to me.

But if nothing else, this entire nightmare of the last several months has wrought in me compassion and grace that I don't think I could have learned any other way. And it has/is an incredible struggle in the lesson of forgiveness - one I desperately need[ed] to learn.

So perhaps a year ago I would have laughed at your story of a lingering shadow of emotion, but today I would listen with grace and compassion.

And this I believe is a small testimony.

Love Without Hypocrisy

Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good.
- Romans 12:9

Nearly a month ago I found myself tripping over this verse. I wanted to skip over the first half and just focus in on the second part - abhor what is evil; cling to what is good. I could do that. I could abhor evil. I could cling to good.

But as much as I tried to push the first half of the verse from my thoughts, it suddenly became a game of "if you think of the game you lose the game". The harder I tried to forget the first half and just move on in my reading, the more that it invaded my thoughts. Needless to say, I was losing "the game".

Let love be without hypocrisy. 

Reading those words were uncomfortable, annoying, frustrating actually. Because I knew that my love was not without hypocrisy.

For as much as I love people around me, in my heart I knew (even though I tried to pretend it wasn't so) that there were names, faces, real people whom I did not love.

Let love be without hypocrisy.

Sometimes I think I am doing so well at loving people. Then a name is said, or a picture posted, and like the change from summer to winter, my heart frosts over and I become cold.

If someone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen?  - John 4:20

I knew what the implications of Romans 12:9 were - I was a hypocrite. I said I loved Jesus. I said I loved people. Yet there were those whom I did not love or even care to love.

And like the wrestling of toddlers over a prized toy, I wrestled with my own heart. Am I really a hypocrite? It just didn't seem possible. And could not loving even just one person be enough to make me a hypocrite?

I knew the answer was yes. But somehow not admitting it gave me a sense of stability. Perhaps if I ignored it long enough maybe it wouldn't be true.

See the reality of Romans 12:9 and John 4:20 is, if I don't love like Christ would love, if there is someone in my life where there is anger, malice, or hatred towards them, I am a walking hypocrite. I am someone who rations out my love to those I "deem worthy" and cast judgement on who and how I will love. 

I cannot stand before the Lord today or on the day of judgement in confidence. I cannot raise my hands in worship. I cannot even pray with faith because I have failed the very thing Christ commanded me: to love my neighbor as myself.

But how do you love someone you don't want to love?

Therefore be imitators of God as dear children. And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.  - Ephesians 5:1-2

I have to remember that I am far, I mean far from perfect. I will probably never know the number of times friends and family have loved me when I was [am] quite unlovable. And then there is God. Not only does He constantly love me when I am unlovable, but He sent His son Jesus to die for me, even when I was His enemy. It didn't matter. God reconciled me to Him even when I wanted nothing to do with Him. (Romans 8:8-10)

So I did what I so very much did not want to do; I prayed blessings on those whom my heart did not love. Everything I could want prayed for myself, I prayed for them. I prayed as though they were my best friend. I prayed as if they were right there in the room with me. I prayed like I loved them.

And this prayer of love for them, this was my sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.

Day 22

Today marked the beginning of week 4 or day 22 of my 90-day gym/bible commitment.

These past 3 weeks have been good for me. I have been faithfully going to bed by 10pm, waking at 6am, and have consistently been in the Word.

I began my routine at the gym with three days a week. I am proud to say I have now added a fourth and in the coming weeks, I look forward to adding a fifth.

Perhaps something you didn't know about me: I thrive when there is a vision.

When there is a plan, a strategy, a goal, I so enjoy "conquering" it. I think about it. I plan. I get excited. I think about the most effective and efficient way to complete whatever the vision is.

Sure, is getting up at 6am four days a week difficult? Yes.

Is working out at the gym painful? The first week you have no idea. I couldn't even straighten my arms for a solid 5 days after my first trip to the gym.

Does reading the bible take discipline? Yes.

Is eating 3-6 times a day hard? Believe it or not, for me, it is infuriatingly difficult.

But the fruit from even this short period of faithfulness has been health to me both spiritually and physically.

I find myself smiling easier and laughing more. I have found myself making jokes again and I have begun to slowly seek people out in social environments. I am even working on being out-going to new people — something I never thought would be "work" for me. 

I have seen my negativity and anger diminish daily as I pray that the Lord would help me to love, be gracious, merciful, kind, compassionate, forgiving — everything I am not. My sarcasm has quieted and my cynical view of everyone and everything has slowly been changing. I have even found fresh excitement in my work both at church and with Unparallel Media (the Steinway project) — which I will keep you updated on via Facebook and Instagram.

Whether there is a noticeably outward difference now, I hope that over the next 69 days, the joy of my salvation will return to me and I will once again be one who encourages, strengthens, and blesses those around me with my words and actions. And hopefully there will even be some type of physical difference.

The last 4+ months have been very difficult and I recognize that I am not completely free yet from the weight of those 4+ months. But to be excited (which seems odd that that would be such a big deal... especially to me) but to be excited, it's energizing to have it restored to my life.

I am thankful to the Lord that He has been faithful to meet me for the past 22 mornings I have sought Him. They're simple mornings. Simple prayers. Yet He still meets me. I love how the NET puts Jeremiah 29:13:

"When you seek me in prayer and worship, you will find me available to you. If you seek me with all your heart and soul"

I look forward to change in my life over the next 68 days.

Take Away From Awake 2014

What does loving the Lord look like? Your all. Everything. 
- Eric Peoples

Can I be honest with you?

For the past few years I have not given my all or my everything to the Lord. Distractions, disappointments, letdowns, failed dreams, frustrations, circumstances, my failures, I let these distract me and deter me from loving the Lord fully. And little by little I just stopped giving my all. 

In his first session on Saturday, Eric said:

"You may feel like you're living more of a nightmare than a dream. You're not alone. We can look through the Bible and see people who have been there, gotten burned, been disappointed and letdown. That's called process."

I'm really good at responding to the process of "all is well and going great". But when the very thing(s) I am holding tightly to and hoping never to lose are lost, I have difficulty walking through this process. Now compound that with at (what seemed) every turn - rejection. Doors were closed, people walked away, and each attempt to move on was hindered by yet a new problem.

"Just because the process doesn't look like it should, don't lean on your own understanding. Surrender yourself to God and trust Him."

Trust.

Everything seemed to unravel so quickly - like sand sifting through one's hands. And it was all I could do to just catch my breath and stay afloat. I tried to trust, but as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks months, hope gave way to cynical hopelessness.

And hopelessness, like a cancer, robbed my very soul of joy, love, desire, and care. And not only for life and people, but for the Lord as well.

"We don't see change or growth in our spirituality because we lack endurance."

Endurance.

I wanted to endure, but honestly, I just didn't have the drive to even attempt it.

"You may be hopeless by life circumstances, but you are not helpless because of Jesus." 

Perhaps these were the most impacting and piercing words I heard all weekend. I was hopeless from life's circumstances. And until that moment, I had bought into the idea that hopelessness meant I was helpless. The kindergarten answer to every Sunday School question - Jesus - had evaded my very reasoning. How could I have forgotten such a simple truth?

Yes. I was, am, hopeless.

But I am not helpless. I have Jesus. And no matter how hopeless I get, there will never be a moment where I will become helpless because I have the promise from Jesus Himself, that He will never forsake me or leave me.

Hopeless? Yes.

Helpless? No.

So each day I will choose to awaken and say, as Eric Peoples said in his Sunday morning message:

"Holy Spirit, fill my life right now and teach me how to love Your presence."

90 Days

I'm not good at new year's resolutions. I don't pretend to be. And because of my poor performance over the years with resolutions, I decided this year to not have any.

But what I have decided to do is a 90 commitment.

Beginning this past Monday, I committed to 90 days of reading my bible every day, and a 90 day period of going to gym.

[NOTE: I'm not going to the gym for 90 consecutive days, but rather, for a length of 90 days, going 3-5 times a week.]

Perhaps it's my personality, or maybe it's just me, but indefinitely signing up to go to the gym is overwhelming and I always give up within a couple weeks. Having a goal (90 days) allows me to pursue and concur it without the daunting feeling of it never ending. And at the end of 90 days, hopefully I don't just give up going to the gym all together. Hopefully a new goal will be set.

My 90 day commitment - both to the gym and to the Word - is not solely for appearance of strength and spirituality. I desperately need to be faithful in reading my bible.

Self-control.

Perseverance.

In my life, self-control and perseverance have always evaded my grasp. For some, you have seen first hand my absence of self-control and lack of perseverance.

I often find myself hanging my head in shame at what I feel should be masted by now; self-control and perseverance.

Two areas where I struggle greatly with these are with daily bible reading and the gym.

And this year, I didn't want yet another year to pass by where these particular fruits of the spirit didn't blossom in my life. So in a desperate attempt to begin a foundation of self-control and perseverance I committed myself to going to the gym and reading my bible for 90 days.

I know I need to be reading my bible, often, daily. I've preached messages about the importance of daily bible reading. I've had lengthy conversations about it. I know the reasons why I need to read my bible. I know my soul is in great need of the Word. Yet my bible has remained, unopened, upon my dresser. A constnat reminder with every layer of dust that my soul too, is in need of a spiritual dusting off.

So this means waking at 6 in the morning, reading my bible, going out in -25 degree weather, driving to Potsdam, and working out from 6:45-7:45. It means being uncomfortable and tired. It means being incredibly sore - and I mean incredibly. It means forcing myself to eat more than just the standard one or two meals a day that have become habit.

And each morning while I drive, freezing cold, to the gym I pray. They're not elaborate prayers. They're simple, often through chattering teeth.  I pray "Lord, help me to have self-control and endurance. Do a work in my mind and heart so I give you complete control over me."

Monday, January 20 I began and committed till April 20. That is my goal and I plan on concurring it fully.

I Am The Greatest Obstacle

“I am my own greatest obstacle in loving God."

It was July 18, 2010 and I was listening to Pastor Doug's Sunday morning message at SaRang church in Korea - which was the church I was attending while living there for three months.

Pastor Doug was doing a series on Jonah. It was undoubtedly the best series I had ever heard preached on Jonah and I was loving it. Pastor Doug was straight forward. He didn't candy-coat the message. Sin, repentance, forgiveness, grace, redemption - the Gospel was preached. 

“I am my own greatest obstacle in loving God."

It's been almost four years since I heard that message, yet I can't stop thinking about that statement.

~~~

For the years while in college, I prided myself on my passion and pursuit of the Lord. I was proud of the discipline I had exercised in prayer, worship, and the reading of the bible. I worked hard to serve people, share the Gospel, be out-going, and love everyone generously.

I was proud of the man I was becoming and the reputation I was building.

But when I graduated, that all stopped. With a single walk down the aisle and the reception of a diploma, just like that, the entire world where I had served and worked tireless to become disciplined in had disappeared. 

I was left standing, feeling lost. Because I was neither an "adult" (i.e. career, family, spouse, etc.) nor was I a college student. 

And rapidly the discipline I had exercised eroded away. My passion melted like snow in the spring and my love and out-going personality towards all shriveled in the frost of my frustration.

I was not proud of who I was or where I was going. I suddenly felt catapulted back to high-school as if I was now just a child.

Like metamorphosis, I could see the change occurring, but didn't know how to stop it.

And along the way, people, friends, those close to me began to feel the cold chill of my heart. Some bore the burden of my frosted words and actions more than others. And my reputation began to change... and so did the way people related to me. 

And within a year, I was a shadow of the young man who had walked up to receive his diploma. 

 ~~~

 
“I am my own greatest obstacle in loving God." 

It was not graduating that caused the deviation of my soul. It was not people or my church that directed my heart astray. It was not circumstances or lack of dreams fulfilled or desires had that set me on a journey of wandering. 

I was the obstacle that got in the way of loving God.

"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."  - Galatians 2:20

Why did Paul write that he had been crucified? Because he understood that he himself was the greatest obstacle in loving God and that he needed to "decrease so that He could increase". 

See, being crucified with Christ is not just a one-time deal at the moment of salvation. It is a daily thing. 

The moment I stop being crucified with Christ, I begin to live in my own strength and walk out the desires of my heart. It is not until I have been crucified with Christ that my heart is no longer "I who live, but Christ who lives in me". 

I must, at every turn, at every let down, at every desire, at every dream, at every heart-break, at every junction be crucified with Christ so that the life I now live would be lived "by faith in the Son of God" and not by any other whim, feeling, desire, or strength.

I am still very much my own greatest obstacle in loving God. But today I am going to crucify myself with Christ so that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. 

Forgiveness Without Love

Last night I found myself uncharacteristically sitting among twenty or so young adults who were worshiping and sharing testimonies from their lives.

Had it been six months ago, I would not have considered such a setting so "uncharacteristic" of me. But these days I tend to find comfort in places that are quiet and often unfrequented by people.

"Forgiveness without love is not forgiveness."

 It was the words of a testimony being shared by a friend.

I'm not sure I heard the ending to the testimony because my heart had tripped uncomfortably upon those words. Unable to swallow the undeniable truth that forgiveness required more than the words "I forgive you", I sat, mind racing, as I greeted the reality that forgiveness demanded the accompaniment of love with it.   

Forgiveness without love is not forgiveness.

The words continued to resonate in the hallows of my mind as I tried to pretend they weren't true. I couldn't... can't love those who...

I sat, intoxicated with the sobriety of truth my friend had just shared. And I didn't know what to do. I knew, know, I can't just love. I used to. But these days, today, it's not like that anymore.

The rest of the evening was passed unnoticed by me as I processed these words. How was I going to ever force myself or bring myself to love those whom I struggled to forgive? I couldn't. I can't.

Then today as I continued to process these words, I was greeted by a different reality than last night. I was greeted by the truth that Jesus is the One who works in my heart and moves within me to bring about a miracle of forgiveness and love.

As Jesus hung dying, He extended forgiveness to those who had taken His very life. This was no less a miracle than any He had performed already. Because forgiveness, true forgiveness, accompanied by love is a miracle. Why? Because only through Jesus can this truly be accomplished.

So in 2014, my prayer is that I would have loving forgiveness so that in 2015, I would have a testimony of this moment to share with the whole world.