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You got to love Peet’s Coffee. Not only is it way better than a certain Seattle-originated coffee place (I made a commitment not to slander on my blog) but it is also where God brought together a few unlikely people.

Jonathan Brink and I went to college together way back in the day (1993) and went our separate ways only to randomly meet up in a local Peet’s coffee where we realized that God had been speaking similar things to both our hearts. That was a little over a year ago and the rest has been history. Our families have become great friends. Then another friend of our, John Holmes, begins the conversation and recommends that a friend of his, Dave, meets with Jonathan. So Dave and Jonathan meet in a, you guessed it, Peet’s Coffee, where Jonathan suggests that Dave join a new Thrive group that begins the following Tuesday. Lo and behold, it is the same Thrive group I was involved in and when Dave walked in, him and I sensed an immediate connection (though he has a tattoo and I don’t…though that might be changing). Shortly thereafter, we had him and his now wife, Linda, over to our house for dinner and the rest is history (Jen, Linda and Christine [Jonathan's wife] are also part of the same Thrive group as each other). Since then we have shared many BBQ’s, meals, beers, wine, stories, tears, laughter, deep-thoughts, soul searching, ahh-hah moments and just plain ol’ fun times together as couples and families.

But in the midst of all that, God was weaving his dream in our hearts. And then he brought others into the dreaming: Tim, Kelly, and our wives, Jen, Christine, and Linda. Together we wrestle and think. We feel fear. We feel excitement. We feel a sense of togetherness. We feel free to disagree. We feel alive. We feel free to express anything to anyone without fear of judgment. We feel safe. We feel like we really like each other, enjoy each other, and love hanging out and being the church of Christ. 4-hours together feels like 30 minutes and we always have a sense of joy and sadness when we part, thankful to have shared time together but sad that it has to end and we have to go to work . We dream together and each other’s words feed our souls and stimulate thought. We are feeding off a dream that is developing more and more each time we hang out together. (You can read more about the dream here, here, and here). As we dream together we are finding new life and energy for ministry and the the love of God.

I truly wish each and every one of you could be apart of this group that God has brought together. In some ways, you are. Your words and spirit are a part of us in ways you may never know. But the cool thing is this: God has a dream for you to follow in community with those around you. This is God’s dream that God is fleshing out in our community. And the question that begs to be asked is, What is God’s dream that is being fleshed out (or wanting to be fleshed out) in your community? See, I think it is less about, What is God doing over there so we can imitate it? and more about, What is God doing right here so we can join Him?

So I dare you to listen to God’s dream. And when it finds you, have the courage to join in…regardless the cost! But I warn you, though at times it might feel as if you are losing your life and faith, you are actually finding it.

By the way, please remember to share your journey with us so we can be mutually encouraged that God indeed is at work in reconciling all creation, all men (and women), and all things to himself. Because after all, Christ is all and is in all.

Blessings!!

[Note: it may be helpful to read this out loud or in a whisper as it is more stream-of-thought]

So here it is God, Friday evening and my spirit seems deeply burdened. I’m not sure why. The blog name, A Carnival in My Head, comes to mind as a close descriptor of what I am feeling. Round and round the music of Your love and grace goes, spiraling around in my mind, rhythmically pounding: “This is too good to be true, this is too good to be true.” Yet my spirit senses deep within a voice that whispers, that resonates, that caresses Your love like a newborn infant, saying, “I knew You were this good, I knew my Daddy was like this.” And back and forth, round and round, tugging and pulling these voices dance, spar, engage. Fatherly thoughts simultaneously clash against and speak to Your love. My 2 ½ year-old daughter being abducted and tossed into the child-sex ring…her image, spirit, body being molested by deranged men. The anger. The rage. The pain. The disgust I feel as a father at the thought. How could You love such beasts? How could You, Papa, embrace such filth? How could You forgive such creatures? My daughter—with them!—in the foulest of ways. They must be punished, killed, torn apart! They must feel the pain my daughter felt, have their dignity ripped from them as they did my daughter’s, be scarred forever as my daughter is. And then I look at those men as if I were their father. Seeing my hurting boy, whose dignity is no more, whose ability for love is smoldering, whose image, spirit, and body has been self-molested for years. Whose pain and wounding run so deep that I hardly recognize him as the three-year-old I once held in my lap, the 8-year-old I once played baseball with, the teenager I once taught to drive. He is a shell of the creature You crafted, yet he still bears Your image—dim all be it, but it is there…the image of You. And oh how I long to embrace him, heal him, restore him and remind him he’s loved. And yet he’s distant, alone—he thinks—in his pain. Fatherly thoughts seem to simultaneously clash against and speak to Your love, God. And sometimes it just feels like a mess, and sometimes it just feels so beautiful, this love of Your’s. I look at my daughter being hurt and I look at my son causing the pain and I rush in to rescue my daughter from her pain all the while longing to rescue my son from his. I step between the two of them seeking to prevent my daughter from being wounded and look into my son’s eyes and see his wounds. I violently lash out, throwing my son off my daughter and embrace her while seeing the tears of my son disclosing his desire to be embraced as well. I pin my son down with my fist clenched above his face ready to strike a blow when my daughter grabs my arm, graciously holding me back and reminding me of . . . love. I see the wounds in both my children. And I love them. How can I not? They bear my image and I shared in their creation. Is it the same with You? Is this how You feel? Is it more of a father-child relational thing than a judicial-transactional thing for You? Is this love perhaps the kind that can heal and restore both the victim and the perpetrator, who happen to both bear Your image and whom You created? I don’t know…and yet I do…then again, I don’t. And so the music of Your love and grace goes, spiraling around in my mind, rhythmically pounding, “This is too good to be true, this is too good to be true.” Perhaps it is. If it is true, the oxymoron of a beautiful mess also rings true. A beautiful mess . . . a beautiful mess . . . a beautiful mess, love is.

Some in the church think God is at work only in (or through) the church and asks the world to join it, all the while God is at work in the world asking His church to join Him.

A few weekends ago we drove to the Bay Area for my wife’s family reunion. My brother-in-law, Dave, pastors a church in San Jose and so on Sunday we thought it would be a great chance to hear him speak and see his church. Well, as it would turn out, Dave was taking a break from the pulpit. We were bummed that we weren’t able to hear him. After the service we went outside and I saw two men sitting on the curb talking; one of them was obviously homeless. It warmed my heart to see him there and that someone from the church was taking the time to talk with him. But as I learned the story behind the man, my joy ran even deeper…

You see, the church had been talking to the city officials trying to build better partnership. The city said they would love to support the church more if the church committed to helping in three areas: the environment, the ??, and the homeless. The church agreed. During a meeting where the city officials came to the church to discuss the issues, they came to the topic of homelessness and were struggling to find practical and real ways to help. Just then a man entered the church and interrupted their meeting. He was homeless. Dave went out to talk with him.

The man began telling Dave how he started a garden where the other homeless people could come to help cultivate it and eat from their fruits. He continued to say how he was running into problems because the garden was on land that the Water District owned and they wanted him and his garden off of their property. Dave smiled and asked the man if he believed in miracles. He told him that in the meeting he had interrupted were city officials and church leadership wrestling with how to help the homeless in the city. The man was thrilled and began to discuss the notion of using some of the church’s “back-lot” for a garden. Dave said that would be a great idea and asked if the man would be willing to share his story to those in the other room. He did and Jesus smiled.

Fast forward a few days. Dave went to a little deli that he rarely goes to and sure enough, the homeless man was there. Dave asked him if he would join him for lunch. The man declined at first saying that he wasn’t hungry. Dave insisted and the man joined him for conversation but not a meal…he really wasn’t hungry. The man mentioned that what he really needed was a tarp. So Dave walked over to OSH with him and they bought a tarp. When they were leaving the man asked if he could keep the receipt because the police come by and if you have anything that looks new they ask for a receipt to make sure you didn’t steal it. If you don’t have a receipt, they take the “new” item away. Dave paused a minute and came to the place of trust and gave the man a receipt.

Fast forward a few days. The man came back to the church and told Dave that another person bought him a tarp and that he returned the tarp that Dave bought with him. He said that he should expect a refund on his credit card within a few days. Talk about stereotypes being shattered!

Right now they are in the process of figuring out the logistics for the church-homeless garden (they are located next to an elementary school so they have to see if they would be comfortable having homeless men and women hanging around while the kids were in school, etc). I love seeing churches rise above their needs to join Jesus in his mission of restoration. This is just one example I thought I’d share…

This reminded me of a conversation I was having with myself (I have those often) on my way home from work. You see, a co-worker asked if I went to church and I said, “Well, kinda, but not in the way you might think,” and they began “apologizing” for the way they had been talking, and I said, “Do you think that God loves you any less?”

So this got me thinking of what really are the differences between me and them (I even hate using that language here)? And I had this mock conversation.

“You know what the difference is between me and you?” I asked.

“What?” they responded, thinking of a long religious and stereotypical list.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are made in God’s image, so am I. You are loved by God, so am I. You are forgiven, so am I. We are the same. And because I am realizing God’s love, I want to be apart of what God’s doing all around us.”

See, I’ve been taught my whole life that there are fundamental differences between “us” and “them”. That we are saved, they are not. We are believers, they are unbelievers. We are the children of God, they are the children of something else. We are forgiven, they are not. We are all loved, but it translates differently for us than it does for them (we go to heaven, they hell).

What freedom to know and receive that God likes “us” and “them”.

Or, even better said, what freedom to know and receive that God likes his kids.

Last night was special.

What would cause three grown men

• to spend a year-and-a-half of their lives writing and rewriting books, complete with the deadlines and late nights and early mornings spent glaring at a computer?
• to leave their wives, kids, and friends for a month-and-a-half while traveling to 32 cities crammed in an RV that has a tendency to run out of gas and tear itself apart?
• to grow an obscene amount of facial hair and then shape it into Mutton-Chops?
• to write a, all-be-it catchy, song and then sing it accompanied by a wash board and a trombone played by a non-trombone player?
• to basically make, as Tony put it, arses out of themselves in front of complete strangers?
• to place olive oil in little containers, falsely advertise it as the Balm of Gilead, and sell it for up to $50 (there is a point to it all and you’ll just have to go to find out)?

What would cause them to do such things? One might think, on the surface, to sell books. One would be wrong. After just six shows Mark, Doug and Tony were exhausted. They missed their families. They were thousands of miles from home (except Mark who lives in CA). Those of us who served alongside of them in making the Roadshow happen could see these things, which were clearly evident. But that wasn’t the only thing that was evident. In fact, truth be told, these “things” only made their true motive all the more evident.

See, the Roadshow has the guise of a book tour. But don’t let that fool you. It is only a cover. The true essence of it is three guys who are deeply passionate about Jesus. Who will stop at nothing to proclaim his message of hope and restoration. Who love hanging out with other people who are seeking to follow the person and way of Jesus. Whose hearts beat with an inner God-cadence and have reconciled their fear at the feet of God, saying, “We’ll speak what we hear, regardless.” It was laughter and silence and joy and profoundness and embarrassment and gut-level sharing and music (kinda) and wisdom and friendship all rolled up into two memorable hours.

For me, the whole night (we began at 3:00pm and rolled out at 11:00pm) will be a memory that I’ll recall in my spirit for many years to come. But the things that stand out will be Doug’s recalling of when he first fell in love with Jesus in that theater-turned-church and how it has taken him many years to wind his way through the “tracts” he was given and back to the essence of Jesus, whom he found that night. It will be Tony recalling his journey from systematic theology in seminary to the simplicity of Jesus of Nazareth in the South Dakota Plains with the Lakota tribe. It will be Mark speaking in the raspy voice of the “Emperor” as he recalled moments of love-lived-out in an abandoned bus in the streets of San Francisco, only to be topped by his very passionate monologue about the Kingdom of God is at hand and right here.

In addition to the memories of what took place during the “show”, there are those quieter memories of seeing old friends. Meeting new friends from as far as Tracy. Seeing the joy on people’s faces. Lifting tables and chairs, setting up lights and sound equipment, hanging banners and laying out books, labeling olive oil containers with deceptive spiritual labeling, sharing laughter and a meal with people I love dearly, some of whom I am just beginning to get to know. I am longing for the days that we have ahead of us and am excited—filled with hope—about what Jesus is doing and how he is calling us to participate.

Please hear me. If these guys are coming to a city anywhere near you, GO!! You will be blessed. I promise.

I know what you might be saying, “But it is too far away for me to go.” Ok, listen. They have driven across the entire continental United States in an RV filled with tired, stinky men to come to you, the least you can do is drive to the nearest city to go to them!!

If you can’t make it, I understand. But I am not sure God will and you’ll have to answer to God come judgment day. And without the Balm of Gilead, I’m afraid there will be no hope for your soul (at least that is what they told me in private)…

[Update] In addition to regular comments, if you’ve attended a Roadshow I invite you to comment your own reflections below. Here is Jonathan Brink’s review.  John Ohara’s Review.

I pray that you know in your heart that the Father loves you, regardless.

Happy father’s day!

I was looking in my backyard today and noticed all the weeds that have been popping up. I sighed at the thought of going out there and uprooting them. What a pain. Seeing all those weeds got me thinking about Jesus’ words where he taught us not to pull up the “weeds”, but to instead let them grow and leave it to him. [See Matthew 13]

How bizarre and backwards is that? Ignore the weeds growing among us? Don’t pull them, chop them, poison them, kill them … but simply let them grow next to the flowers, in the grass, in the garden, in our yard? Absurd! To a gardener, such a suggestion would be foolishness. I offer that it is foolishness to religious people as well. So why would Jesus say such a thing?

A few reasons came to my mind…perhaps you have others.

The first is that we, as humans, have a very poor track record of recognizing weeds. Our perspective seems to be that anyone who looks or believes differently than we do is a weed. Certain prophets and Jesus come to mind in the Jewish history. Certain reformers (among many others) come to mind in our Christian history. In hindsight we see that the “weeds” we got rid of were perhaps not weeds at all. Our historical tendency has been to label weeds, “wheat”, and wheat, “weeds” and we have acted accordingly, praising the wheat-weeds and getting rid of the weed-wheats. Jesus, aware our proven biases and natural tendencies as human beings, said he’d handle the weeds and gave us the job of loving and serving them. Ugh…don’t you hate that?

Another reason is that it is not our place to pull, poison, chop and kill weeds. Even if we were able to judge correctly as humans (which we aren’t, but let’s pretend) who was a weed and who wasn’t, it is not our job to uproot them — it is Gods. Much like when my son feels it is his role to correct and boss around his younger sister. We simply tell him that she is not his concern and to leave his sister to us, her parents. It is not his role as a sibling to be a parent! But oh how he likes to take the parent-role anyhow.

We’re the same, aren’t we? We feel as if weed-control is our role. Jesus simply tells us that it is not our concern and to leave it to him. It is not our role as created humans to be God. And oh how we like to try to be God (we’ll of course never admit this, but if we were honest, it’s true…at least it is in me). We like to play judge and determine who is and who isn’t a weed and treat them according to their human-given label (which never works out to well for the “weeds”).

The last reason is our lack of trust, or even not wanting to really trust, in God. Our desire to exercise weed-control on our fellow humans reveals our lack of trust in God (again, something we’d never admit). We really don’t want to let go of judgment and give it to God (not that we ever really had it in the first place). What if God declares someone a “flower” who we think is a “weed”? (Funny thing is that our State Flower, the Golden Poppy, is in fact a weed). What if God really loves weeds and tells us to trust him because he knows we’ll get it wrong and raise havoc on his creation? What if God gets it wrong — that is, according to our thinking (theology) — and God lets all sorts of “weeds” into his presence? Do you see the problems trust creates in us? Do you see the questions and fears trust-in-God raises? At least, that is, for some.

For me, I have found great freedom in trying to relax my ingrown human need to judge and take on the task of weed-control. It’s not up to me. My job is to love and to serve everyone — everyone! — even my enemies (whom I tend to declare to be weeds). It is such a relief to let go of a burden I have self-imposed on myself and give it back to God. I was never designed to carry it. And God knew that, hence Jesus’ words.

So now that I no longer have to worry about labeling and pulling weeds, I need to get busy learning from God how to love and serve them.

I used to listen to this song REALLY loud while reclining in my Jeep with its top off, parked on a country hillside in Texas void of lights with a brilliant star studded sky stretched out above me. I would simply lie there with this song repeating and letting the words soak in.

It had been a while since I played it and I stuck it in the other day. The words “But this light that shines on me shines on you and makes everything beautiful, again” just leaped through my ears and straight into my heart in a very deep way. It reminds me that just as God causes the sun to shine on the just and unjust, the rain to fall on all, so too God’s love. Find a quiet place, close your eyes and listen:

Stars, By David Crowder

You should see the stars tonight
How they shimmer shine so bright
Against the black they look so white
Comin down from such a height
To reach me now, reach me now

You should see the moon in the flight
Cuttin cross the misty night
Softly dancin in sunshine
Reflections of this light
Reach me now, you reach me now

And how could such a thing
Shine it’s light on me
And make everything beautiful again

And you should feel the sun in the spring
Comin out after a rain
Suddenly all is green
Sunshine on everything
I can feel it now, I feel you now

And how could such a thing
Shine it’s light on me
And make everything beautiful

And you should hear the angels sing
All gathered round their king
More beautiful than you could dream
I’ve been quietly listening
You can hear ‘em now, I hear em now

And how could such a king
Shine His light on me
And make everything beautiful
And i wanna shine
I wanna be light
I wanna tell you it’ll be alright
And I wanna shine and I wanna fly
Just to tell you now
It’ll be alright, it’ll be alright
It’ll be alright.

Cus I got nothing of my own to give to you
But this light that shines on me shines on you
And makes everything beautiful, again.
It’ll be alright, it’ll be alright.

My wife, Jennifer, is 8 ½ months pregnant with our third child. Her due date is July 4th (Independence Day in more than one regard). She is about to burst and is dying to hold our child (which by the way, is another girl).

Not too long ago we were lying in bed and I had my hand on her belly feeling the baby move. As I did, I began thinking about how strange it must be to have this “other” living inside of you. My wonder ran off in all sorts of directions and I was just trippin’ out at the whole experience. Now seeing as I am a guy and I’ve never had, nor ever will have, a baby living and growing inside of me, I began asking Jennifer some questions. At least that was my intent, but we never left my first question, which was, “Jen, are you constantly aware of the baby’s movement inside of you? Like all throughout the day?”

She paused and thought about it, replying, “You know, I’m not. It is only when I sit still and pay attention that I feel her moving inside of me. I mean there are times when she moves a certain way and it gets my attention while I’m going about my daily stuff, but typically, it’s only when I am still that I feel her movement.”

Epiphany.

How true is that. I mean it’s true with babies and pregnant women and all (or so I’m told by one), but how true it typically is with God as well. God is constantly moving in and all around me. God is here. Present. But it seems I am only aware of God when I slow down, quiet my inner self, and listen, watch, pay attention. Sure, sometimes God moves in such a way that really gets my attention even when I am oblivious and haven’t given God much thought. But typically, it is me not paying attention to God’s movement that causes me to think God is not moving in and around me, than it is God not moving. Does that make sense?

See, God is moving all around me, every day, every minute, in all sorts of ways, in every life. It is during those times when I listen, and watch, and am willing to participate in what God is doing, that God’s movement begins to surface to my awareness. And sometimes, just me feeling and watching and witnessing God’s movement causes me to smile in wonderment at how beautiful and good and kind God truly is.

Which causes me to think back to seeing and feeling my wife’s belly roll around from Scout’s little elbows and knees and hands and feet and bottom and head. Even experiencing her movement from the outside-looking-in causes me to smile in wonderment at how beautiful and good and kind God truly is. How much more so Jen, who gets to share in the beauty of caring for “another” who dwells inside of her and who is constantly moving.

But who am I kidding, there is no way in hell that I would be able to go through the pain of birthing Scout. So I’ll accept my maleness and gladly be on the outside-looking-in. What can I say, if men were given the lot of childbirth, humanity would have become extinct a long, long time ago. (I just realized that this last paragraph has nothing to do with this post. Oh well).

On our way home the other night, I was having a great conversation with my son about God. I told him that there was nothing he could ever do that would cause God to love him any less fully than he does now. To help convey the point, I told him that even if he were to kill me, his dad—(twisted, I know)—that God would still fully love him. He thought about it and replied, “Even if I blew up the whole world, would God still love me?”

Don’t you just love 1st graders? How would you reply?

Here is how I replied. I told him (borrowing from Paul) yes, even if he blew up the whole world (good luck with that), even that would not separate him from the love God has for him. I then said, “And when you stand before God and realize that God really loves you, you will most likely fall to your knees (I know I would), in tears possibly, sorry for what you had done and he would embrace you as his child, whom he loves.” I realized that, yes, even God’s kindness can lead to repentance.

Later, I thought more about my answer and—recalling a certain parable—wondered if God would even run to Caleb while Caleb was still far away and hug Caleb and not stop kissing Caleb.

Now what “consequences” God might have in mind for my son who blew up the entire world—well, that’s between him and God, and is, quite frankly, none of my business. I’ll leave that to God’s loving wisdom.

A few families got together the other night and began having a great conversation about God. On the way home, I was talking to my son about it and he said, “Dad, you guys weren’t talking about God. You were laughing.”

Ouch. At seven, he already has an “image” of God that doesn’t really include laughter and joy.

1. It was clear from the beginning that this should be my role. God blessed Abraham to be a blessing to others, not to simply enjoy his blessing.
2. Jesus said, come follow me. Jesus was clearly all about his Daddy’s mission. His life and death modeled a missional life that did what the Father did, said what the Father said. As an follower of Jesus, Daddy’s mission is my mission.
3. I have seen missional living heal and restore people. When people believe they are loved and forgiven by their Daddy, it changes their life. My mission is simply to communicate the “you’re loved and forgiven” good news message with every joint, muscle and ligament of my being.

So that’s it. That’s why I am missional. It was clear from the beginning I was designed to be, Jesus was and so should I, and it has life-altering healing potential in other’s lives.

DISCLAIMER: Sorry for such a long post. I hope its massive length did not confuse or conceal my reasons for being missional. I tried to keep it short and simple, but I fear I let my long-windedness get the best of me once more. Please forgive my self-indulgence and lack of self control.

———————————————————–

This was part of a missional synchroblog started by Jonathan. Here are the other participants:

Ben Wheatley—WWSBD What Would Shepherd Book Do?

Bryan Riley—Jesus is the Way and He Was Missional

Jonathan Brink—Why I Am Missional

Blake Huggins—Missional Synchroblog: Why Am I Missional

Alan Knox—Demonstrating the Heart of God

Tim Jones - Participation or Observation?

This past Sunday, the church who we gather with verbally opened the communion table for some all to partake, for some all to experience the love and acceptance of Jesus through the elements—at his table, sharing his meal.

So I, too, dined. (click if you don’t know the back-story…)

It was refreshing.

Jesus said that we’d be known as his followers by our love (John 13). He also prayed that his followers would be united in love so that the world would see that God loves them as he loves his son, Jesus (John 17). I knew this about Jesus’ words, but as I was reading through Philippians—particularly the second chapter (which I’ve read 100 times over in the past)—Paul’s words jumped off the page. He talks about unity in Christ, comfort from his love, tenderness, compassion, being of the same mind, and then says this: “…Having the same love…”.

He then goes on to explain what this like-minded love looks like, and points to Jesus. That love should be the unifying factor. That self-sacrificing love helps us to be one in spirit and mind. That our like-mindedness is found in the humble, serving and loving mind of Jesus. Not only does love define us—label us, as it were—as a follower of Jesus, but love also unites us. And when the world looks on, witnessing and experiencing our love, they will know they are loved as children of their heavenly daddy.

Like-mindedness (a.k.a. unity) is found in love, expressed through humility.

So let’s take a quick test.

1) What defines us as followers of Jesus? Love.
2) What unites us as followers of Jesus? Love.
3) What draws others into following Jesus? Love.

You mean, the answers to the above isn’t “correct” doctrine? Or ___________ (you fill in the blank)? Or . . .

Perhaps (and I am using “perhaps” very facetiously) love is the greatest of these things.

May we be known and united by our love.

Jonathan said, “And even when we share the Gospel story, we’re left with the real question. If this person says, “No,” for whatever reason, will we still choose to love them? Will we still share the Gospel with them? Will we still be love, which is the fullest reflection of Jesus and the call to mission? Or, will will simply treat the person as a transaction that is defined by our duty to get them into heaven? Because real evangelism happens after they say no.“

But what if we had the foreknowledge that not only would they say no, but that they would NEVER say YES? Would we still love them? Perhaps more important, would we still remain in relationship with them? Be their friend? Stick by them? Or would we abandon them for a more “successful” project?

Or in other words, would love be motive enough?

Perhaps real evangelism stems from the place of no expectation.

Not too long ago a group of four of us drove to San Francisco to catch Rob Bell’s The Gods Aren’t Angry tour. It was . . . well let’s put it this way, being the internal processing introvert that I am, I didn’t speak much during the 2 hours following his message. It absolutely riveted me. My mind was reeling. Here is a small video snapshot:

You can order the entire DVD, but if you have friends like Jonathan (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) you can just borrow their copy

Jen and I have been married for 10 years, this June. So when I was asked to synchroblog about keeping it real and the latest chapter of our story, I thought I’d do just that. So here is chapter 10 of our ongoing story:

Our last anniversary was spent camping on the banks of the American River just outside of Coloma, CA. Just before leaving, we were informed by the church where I was Youth Minister that, due to budget restraints, my position was being cut and they were going to have to let us go. That put a slight damper on our camping trip and 9 year anniversary.

We finished out our commitment at the church in July. As we left, their generosity and grace was abundant. Not only did they love us and cry with us, but they offered severance pay that would provide for us until December 1st. We stepped away knowing we were loved and would be missed.

Almost immediately we began applying and interviewing with churches. We had a certain “box” in mind that we felt God wanted us in and so we pursued it. One church showed real interest in us as their small group pastor. We went through the 1st, 2nd, 3rd interview and the door closed. Another church showed real interest in us as their senior pastor. We went through the initial interviews and a weekend extravaganza of meetings and the door closed.

Perplexed, we did some real soul searching. What we noticed was that God was building some great friendships in Folsom (where we live) and sensed that God was asking us to stay put—to trust. But God, there is nothing here. What are we going to do for income? He simply said, Trust. So we stayed and continued developing our friendships and trusted.

But he also convicted me in a very gentle manner. You see, for the past six years God has been doing some real soul shaping in me. He was guiding me and leading me in some new directions (new for me at least) but I kept his leading and re-shaping rather hidden from others. I was afraid what people might think and what their reactions might be. I was like the guy who was given some money by his master and all he did was bury and hide his master’s gift. That was me. God had been doing something in me, but I simply buried it. I cared more about what others would think than about what God thought. In fact, I had been blogging for some time about these changes, but I did so in “private mode” (not available for public viewing). God simply asked me if I was willing to trust him and lean fully into what he was doing in my heart. ‘Cause I realized that no matter what I believed, there were going to be those who agreed and those who didn’t, those who thought I was right and those who thought I was wrong. So the real question became, Am I being faithful to God—where he was leading me and how he was shaping me? Realizing my answer was “no”, I said, “Yes…I will.” As an act of that commitment, I took my blog off “private” and went “public” with my thoughts. That was in October. Some think that was a good thing. Others think it was a bad thing. For me, it was the right and healing thing. Oh, and I almost forgot, Jen got pregnant with #3, girl #2.

Shortly afterwards I got a “regular” 3-month contract job. In the mean time, God began gathering a group of like-minded people who were asking similar questions and feeling similar longings. God began cultivating the dream about a different type of Christian community that he had been individually forming in our hearts for years . We found ourselves colliding with each other on the same road, emerging from different paths. We found friendship and camaraderie. As we dreamed together, God began bringing others to travel with us—all from different backgrounds, with different gifts, longing for the same type of community.

Then my three-month contract job ended.

Trust, he said. We did and he proved faithful. This has been, circumstantially speaking, one of the most difficult chapters in 10 years. But it has also been the most rich, fruitful, freeing, faith-building, soul-shaping, character-building, love-experiencing, friendship-full thrill rides with God we have ever been on. Our marriage is the strongest it has ever been. Our joy is the deepest we’ve known. Our peace passes understanding. We find ourself more patient and loving with those around us. We are more in love with and in awe of God than EVER before. Jesus has never meant more to us. We have deep friendships. God is using us as regular run-of-the-mill human beings. We have been healed from some junk and freed from some baggage. And I got another job.

The dream that he is birthing around us is simply awe inspiring. He has brought about 7 leaders to help dream the dream together. But it feels more like we are just trying to pay attention to what he is doing and wanting to join along. What will it look like? We have an idea, but we are dreaming as we build. When will the dream begin to be fleshed out? It has been for the past 30+ years, has led us to this place today, and will continue to unfold in the future. And the dream-scent we are smelling is phenomenal. May his kingdom come…

So this June, Jen and I celebrate 10 years of marriage. We are celebrating in Napa, CA, for a weekend bed-and-breakfast get away. We thought, “Let’s celebrate what God has done!” And celebrate we will!! I’ll leave the rest to your imagination…

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Others Synchroblogging This Topic:

Mike with “Lost or Found (Depends on your view)“
Erin with “My Turn“
Lyn with “Your Turn“
Sarah with “Glenn’s May Synchroblog“
Jane with “Part 1“, “Part 2“, “Part 3“, & “Part 4“
Alan with “You Are Here“
Barb with “One Year Checkup“
Kathy with “It stinks down here, but I really love the smell“
Heidi with “May Synchroblog“

Instead of asking God to cultivate something, may I see, hear and be in-tune to what God is already cultivating around me. May I have the courage to trust and join God’s cultivation regardless how unknown, mysterious, distant or “in-the-dark” it may presently seem.

May I strive less to do for the sake of doing, and instead, pause more to listen in order to become aware of what he is doing.

God is cultivating all around me. Am I noticing? Do I care?

Have you ever been reading a book and got to a sentence—or thought—that stops you in your tracks? Where you try to continue reading, but the gravitational pull of the sentence keeps bring you back to its words? Then that moment comes when you resist fighting it, dog-ear the page, put the book down and let the words permeate your mind, replaying them over and over again. This was one of those sentences for me.

I was reading through the book, Dialogue-The Art of Thinking Together, by William Issacs, and was cruising along until page 169 crashed into me. The section was titled, “What Is My Music—and Who Will Play It?” It began (like all sections should, in my humble opinion) with a story. A pianist, Michael Jones, was tickling the ivory when an old man approached him and struck up a conversation. The old man asked about the music Michael just played and he answered, “That was an arrangement of Moon River”. “No, before that,” the old man asked. “That was some of my own music,” Michael replied. The old man then said, “You are wasting your time with ‘Moon River’.” He continued and asked, “Who will play your music if you don’t do it yourself?”

Stop.

Did you read his question?

That was the one whose gravity would not (and has not) release me. “Who will play your music if you don’t do it yourself?”

William Issacs then fleshes it out a bit more:

“People often say it is hard to know what their music is, no less find the courage to offer it. Sometimes we know what we would express but require the courage to bring it out. The resolve that wells up from within us first to find out what our music is, and then to give us the permission to give it, is the molten core energy of your voice.” Wow! Then he just keeps going . . .

“We all have a tendency for self-censorship, for withholding what we think for fear of upsetting others or disturbing the order of things. But finding our music involves listening in a deep way to what we may not have dared voice. [...] ask yourself, What do I most long to create in the world? And why do I long to create it? Setting aside all the counterforces that would tend to dismiss this question as impractical and irrelevant is an enormous part of this process. But holding Michael’s simple question in your heart can go a long way toward opening doors you would not expect to open. Finally, we must also ask ourselves what might be at risk if you do not bring it out—as well as if you do? What choices are you making now about how much of your voice you express?”

Wow.

This idea of finding out what your music is and having the courage to play it—’cause if you don’t, who will?—is crucial to what it means to follow God and the leading of his spirit. Why do I blog? Because it is my music. Why am I feeling led to help create a different expression of “church”? Because it is my music. Why do I love my wife and kids and God and neighbors? Because is it my music. Is it the only music? Nope. Is it the best music? Nope. Are there some who don’t like it? Yep. Are there others who are moved by it? Yep. Is it the correct music? Do you see how that is the wrong question when it comes to music? It’s my music (that God has inspired in my heart) and if I don’t play it, lean in to it, embrace it—who will?

Page 169 was worth the price of the book.

I really believe that if we are all busy courageously playing our God-given Kingdom-music, we will be too busy to sabotage, disrupt and hate-on others’ music.

And I have a hunch that the world will be better off from the musical tapestry we will create.

So the question begs to be asked, What Is Your Music—and Will You Play It?

Forgiveness is not an occasional art, it is a permanent attitude.

~ Martin Luther

Amen and thank God.

Missional living is, in part, what my sister and brother-in-law are doing. Out of the love they have for Jesus, they are in China picking up the newest member of their family, Cassie LinHua. They began the adoption process roughly 2 years ago. Check out their blog for more.

In short, missional living in listening to and joining what Jesus is doing (or desires to do) in the life of another. In this case, Cassie was born in the “wrong country” for her female gender. She was tossed aside into an orphanage and has lived there for two years today. The back of her head is flat and she has not learned how to walk from laying in a crib. After going to China, God softened Dave’s heart towards the baby girl’s in China (Becky, his wife, was already wanting to adopt from China) and from that stirring, they began the process. They sought a ’special-needs’ child and God brought them Cassie. Dave and Becky listened to God and joined him in what he was desiring to do in Cassie’s life.

So the question becomes, where is God leading you to join him in what he is doing? Are you listening? Are you able to listen? Am I?

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Other thoughts on Missional Living:

Ben Wheatley - Are Things You Are Living For Worth It

Blake Huggins - What Does Missional Living Look Like

Alan Knox - Living in the love of God

Dave DeVries - The Missional Challenge

Bryan Riley - What Does Missional Living Look Like To Me

Jonathan Brink - Meeting God Where He is Already Working

Ever heard the term “slippery slope“?  I am sure you have.  I know I have been hearing it more and more over the past year.  Here’s the irony when talking about slopes:

The slope we are on is never slippery—it’s all the other slopes that are the slippery ones.

But even at the bottom of such “slopes”, God is there to love and restore.

So I thought I’d throw it out there. This week American Idol did their second-annual Idol Gives Back show where their goal is to raise money to help global poverty / AIDS / etc. To date, they have raised some $80,000,000 with the UK making a $200,000,000 donation in mosquito netting. This year, they ended the night with all the singers singing the now hymn-status song, Shout to the Lord.

My questions are these:

1. Is this ultimately a “good”, possibly Godly, thing (i.e. a secular enterprise helping those in need)?
2. Was what they were doing worship (i.e. the song and doing unto the “least of these” being done to Jesus)

Help me dialogue. These questions intrigue me.

[Update]

Food for thought, here is an interesting contrast (Isaiah 5 between what Israel considered “worship” and what God considered worship:

…They’re busy, busy, busy at worship,
and love studying all about me.
To all appearances they’re a nation of right-living people—
law-abiding, God-honoring.
They ask me, ‘What’s the right thing to do?’
and love having me on their side.
But they also complain,
‘Why do we fast and you don’t look our way?
Why do we humble ourselves and you don’t even notice?’

3-5″Well, here’s why:

“The bottom line on your ‘fast days’ is profit.
You drive your employees much too hard.
You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.
You fast, but you swing a mean fist.
The kind of fasting you do
won’t get your prayers off the ground.
Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after:
a day to show off humility?
To put on a pious long face
and parade around solemnly in black?
Do you call that fasting,
a fast day that I, God, would like?

6-9″This is the kind of fast day I’m after:
to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed,
cancel debts.
What I’m interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.

Spring time is here. That means one thing—my top comes off. See, as a Jeep owner, the months of September through March carry with them a shadowy depression because the weather forces the sane person to keep their Jeep top on. But then Spring arrives. The top comes off and the whole world seems brighter and cheerier. Fresh air, sunlight, stretching skies and a sense of open-air freedom attack the soul. Oh, if only all year could be Spring.

It also means that my kids love riding in Daddy’s Jeep. My 7-year old son never uses the door, but instead climbs onto the back wheel and up and over the roll cage to get into the front seat. And my 3-year old daughter says every day, “Ride Daddy’s Jeep?” She didn’t always like to however. At first the wind and sun really bothered her (she was used to a domesticated van). But after the first few trips around town, she began to anticipate and love the wind and sun. Now she loves it. She’ll say the magic words, “Ride Daddy’s Jeep?”, and we’ll load up into the Jeep—strapping her into her car seat—heading off on our four-mile trek somewhere at 30 miles an hour. She smiles and laughs and says, “Windy!” and “Bumpy!” To her, a ride in Daddy’s Jeep means an adventure with dad. She has no idea where I am taking her, but the ride with dad in his Jeep is the reward. And she loves it!

My ride with my Daddy has been very similar. At first, the newly experienced wind and the sun and the bumpy ride were bothersome. I was used to a domesticated journey with him; quiet, predictable, climate controlled. But when he asked me to hop into his “Jeep” and go for a ride, I was apprehensive. Where are we going? What will it be like when I get there? But there’s no top!? And he said, “I know, that is part of the experience.” So he picked me up, set me in my seat and strapped me in. The wind, the noise, the sun, the bumpiness were all there, as expected. But as we rode, those very things became the joy of the journey. I find myself feeling freer. I can’t seem to get rid of my giddy smile. The sense of open-air adventure with Dad is exhilarating. I have no clear idea where we are going, but that seems to matter less and less. Just the joy of being on a faith-adventure with Daddy in his Jeep, seeing him look back reacting to my joy, is becoming—more and more—enough for me.

And when he invites some of my friends to join the ride, the journey becomes even more enjoyable. It is indeed a ride of a lifetime. Thanks for letting us ride in your Jeep, Dad! I love it!

From Glenn Hager: Some of you know that I am trying to shape a ministry that would come along side these pioneers and revolutionaries and help them through the transition. This desire has grown out of my own experience of being a pastor for over twenty years, struggling find my place, and eventually, losing confidence in the church system that I used to love, but not in Christ or his mission. My questions for you are: [the one I chose to answer] What do they/you need?

In a nutshell, I think the biggest thing people who are being led to re-form and re-dream the church is a safe place to do just that. It will be messy, unpredictable, and often times unconventional, but we need heart-supporters that will give us the space to play with living out faith in the pluralistic, global and postmodern context we find ourselves in. We need elders who, though they are not feeling led to personally re-tool ministry for the droves of people who are not connecting with the modern U.S. church, see the need and who are willing to protect and support the lives and efforts of those who are being called to lead such a change.

Too often the story gets repeated of a church who wants to re-dream a ministry for—as they call them—”those postmoderners”. They hire an emerging leader and initially give them a long leash to experiment. But as the months progress, the leash gets shorter and the collar gets tighter, especially as unconventional methods are being experimented with and more people begin connecting with these “new” ways and less with the “old” ways. Rumors begin to float, meetings take place, hurtful words are thrown (by both), egos get bruised, and the emerging leader usually is forced to self-resign due to the tumultuous environment or they are just out-right asked to leave the church.

It is my judgment that most of the emerging leaders would prefer to work alongside and with existing churches; that their desire really isn’t to break-away from their forefathers of the faith. I really sense that they long for the support, freedom, protection, love, friendship, companionship, and wisdom of those who are leading existing ministries and churches. But for most—not all—emerging leaders, they are slowly (and sometimes quickly) squeezed out of their community of faith, and so they reluctantly go it alone with a few friends to follow where God is leading their heart and passion.

And sometimes you hear of denominations and established churches taking a Kingdom-risk. They see the tide of change, and though they are scared to death at times, they support, embrace, love, partner, and get messy with what God might do through someone very different from themselves. They take bullets. They bite their tongue. They watch backs. They witness mistakes. They glory in success (though not often how they might define it). And together, they set out on God’s mission into a dying world needing God’s love and the message of his undying grace.

So if you were to ask me, What is it that emerging-missional (or whatever you call us) leaders need? Here is my answer. We need a safe place to experiment new paths of mission and theology; and friends who—though they might not “get it” or understand—can support us, protect us, trust us, and ultimately trust God as he leads us.

But safe place and friendship or not, we feel that God’s movement is going to happen—regardless. We’d just like it to happen with all of us unified together in relationship and trust, instead of in banishment and fear.

We are, after all, serving and trusting the same living God. In this, we should stand—together, not apart.

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Links to all of the participants:

Alan Knox: A Revolutionary? Who? Me?

Barb: My Response

Erin Word: Are We There Yet, Papa Smurf?

Glen Hagger: Harvey

Jane: Onward Christian Soldier

Jeff Greathouse: So, You Want To Change

Jeff McQuilken: The Great Shift–and My Unwitting Part In It

Jeromy Johnson: A Safe Place To Experiment

Jonathan Brink: Re-Emerging Church

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More From Glenn Hager: My personal journey, reading, blogging, and conversations with friends have led me to uncover the fringes of a huge group of people who operate under the radar of much of the world. They represent over 20 million people in the U.S. (This is the number of people who are already expressing their Christian faith in ways other than through a conventional church, according to the Barna organization.) who have lost (or, are losing) their faith in the institutional church system, yet have a deep love for Christ, his community and his mission. Many of you are a part of that number which includes those…

• Who have been wounded through serving and separating from “church as they have known it.”
• Who are feeling alone, wondering if there is something wrong with their theology, if they suffer from some personality disorder, or if they are doomed to isolation.
• Who are former church leaders or staff members trying to find a new sense of direction.
• Who eventually want to return to community and fellowship, but not get mired down in the system they left behind.