Happy New Year... But For Who?

This is supposed to be a time of celebration... I feel sick. Not literally, in my heart.

I'm in Wyoming recieving the hospitality of people I've never met before. I'm finishing day two of a four day journey from Albany, Oregon to Goshen, Indiana. Happy New years to me. I'll be asleep by the time 2009 passes over my head.

So why do I feel sick? 

I asked God for compassion today.

My love is so small, my compassion so petty. 

There was a party tonight somewhere in the world, someone was not invited to that party. It wasn't that that someone was forgotten, it was just agreed upon that he wouldn't be invited. He's socially awkward. A nuisance. Difficult to be around. He might be interested in dating one of the normal single girls. 

I felt compassion for him and called him. He was just leaving some church thing at 11. 

"Where you goin now Travis? Gonna stay up for New Years?"

"Yea I might stay up. I'm gonna go home."

"No big party somewhere?" I'm hoping he doesn't ask if anything is going on. Though I'm in Wyoming and can plead ignorance... which would be a lie.

"Na, I guess  not."

By this time I decide since I'm on a back road I've never been on before at 9:30 with 40mph gusts pushing my car everywhere, I should probably go.

Travis reminds me that God will take care of me in the wind. He made all the stars and named them after all.

I understand compassion a bit better tonight, but it's surrounded by a mess of my bitterness towards those who knowingly let Travis stay home alone tonight. It's got this element of self-righteousness that makes me want to think that I'm doing better than them by calling him. I can honestly say I called him out of pure compassion, it was just all the after the call stuff that got.... disgusting. 

So which is worse. My lack of compassion or theirs... I don't think there's a difference. Lack of compassion is lack of compassion. Jesus doesn't ask me to have compassion on just a certain demographic, He calls me to have complete compassion. Jesus was called the Son of Compassion. 

This little post describes a stew of human selfishness. Mine. Others'.  Father teach us to have unbridled compassion, not just on those who we feel deserve it. Sometimes its easier to have compassion on the opressed rather than the opressor; but I have played the role of opressor many times before... many times before. You had compassion on me... teach me to extend that compassion to others.

Thoughts from Philippians 2

Do not look out for your own interests, but also for the interests of others.

Consider one another as more important than yourself.

Have this attitude in yourself which was also in Christ Jesus. The one who left perfect social interaction and comfort to come live with dysfunctional, awkward, selfish people. (My paraphrase of course).

Father give us compassion.

Do I Pray for Help or for God?

I tense up just a bit as I look out the window and fail to see anything but snow speeding by beneath us. The pilot has already placed us about twenty feet off the ground. I start thinking crazy things, like what happened in Colorado recently, then remember that it's more likely to die by getting shot than it is to die in a plane crash. I then remember that I got shot at a couple weeks ago by a hunter. I also remember it's more likely to get struck by lightening... I rest reassured that the odds are on my side. The plane lands properly, in spite of my negative thoughts. Thank goodness I am not a Scientologist, otherwise my pessimism would destroy the world. We start rolling towards the gate as the little cigarette light blinks off then on with a ding, as the stewardesses inform us that we can now use portable electronic devices. I bring my little phone to life. My next few minutes will involve reconnecting with the world after taking part in the miracle of human flight. The text message that comes as I turn on my phone tells me that I have a flight scheduled for 3:05 pm to Eugene.

At first I sort of enjoy the idea of flying to Eugene rather than being stuck in Portland Airport over the holidays. This enjoyment is soon replaced by panic when I realize that it is 2:00pm and I'm still sitting in the plane. I strike to action, forgetting the main reason I turned on my phone was to see if Courtney sent any flirtatious messages while I was airborne.

In case you have never travelled before, there are an entire list of items that make this accomplishment rather impossible. I have one hour to accomplish the following:



1) Get off of the plane and to the baggage claim 20 min

2) Get bags 20 min

3) Check in again for my newly purchased flight 20 min

4) Pass through security 20 min

5) Get to my departure gate 5 min



So that is 85 minutes. At a smaller airport like PDX or Columbus on an early morning flight it probably takes me about 45 minutes. The problem is that ice and snow are covering Portland right now. PDX was opening and closing all day, chains are mandatory (in the city), garbage pickup has stopped, and lo and behold even the "through snow through sleet" postal service is shutting its doors. As consequence to all of this there are tons of people trapped in the airport who have been waiting hours and even days to get a flight to anywhere else. I just got off the plane. By the time I get my bags and get in line at the ticket counter it's already 2:30 and the line is out and around the corner filled with people who have already been waiting for hours. This is where nothing short of an undeserved miracle begins.

On the fringes of the chaos I see an Alaskan Airlines employee with a list that I knew probably contained answers, like how long will I be stuck in this airport. I approached her and explained my situation, simply wondering if there was any way I would be able to make my flight at 3:05.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"2:35" I said, glancing at my phone.

"Come with me." She whisked me to the fringes of the crowd without saying a word. At the end of Alaskan Airlines ticket counter was a slender old woman, I'm sure at one point she was one of those smokin young stewardesses for TWA, the kind of girl that is only mythological now (at least in my flying experiences). Thousands of flights, however, had turned smooth features into wrinkles.

I tried to thank the other worker for her help the angel was already off to create another miracle on 34th street... or at least at baggage claim.

The gal at the counter asked for my I.D. As she looked at my flight time she printed my boarding pass and sent me on my way with a speed that I did not know was ever possible at an airport. I appreciated that one of the flight stopping hurdles was over with expediency I never knew possible; but I was still calling my mother to let them know how frustrated I was that they had bought me a ticket without consulting me, and that I was going to miss it anyways.

The security line was average, but still enough to keep me from reaching my flight (which I had learned from the old stewardess that it was boarding). I used my new found information to ask my way up the security line. Everyone was so gracious. No one hesitated to tell me to move on except for the Hispanic family that couldn't understand what I was saying, but let me by anyway. Hurdle number two. I still thought I was going to miss my flight.

I hate running in airports, in 90% of circumstances a brisk, unpanicked, walk is sufficient. It drives me crazy travelling with people who are freaking out all the time. This one freaked out even me, I ran through the airport. The following conversation with God is the heart of what I'm writing about.

"I can't ask God for this, that's stupid. But why not, why not just ask him to hold the plane. Hey God you can do something about this right?" I started thinking about the way I was feeling towards my brother and mother who had put me in this situation. I was blindingly bitter and ignored the fact that they were trying to help. I forgot about my flight and whether or not I was going to make it, I honestly didn't care. I had friends who I could stay with in Portland, it wouldn't be the end of the world, I would adapt to my new situation; but my bitterness. "God I'm thinking you care more about this bitterness than you do my flight." I don't remember praying anything beyond that, I couldn't concentrate enough. In this sort of haze I finally made it after running to the opposite side of the airport with a pack on my back and a full size suitcase behind me. I heard "Last boarding call for flight 4021... last boarding call for flight 4021" I made it.

I have a friend that asked us to pray about her job, she really liked it and did a good job and felt like God had opened up the door for her to be there in the first place. I believe her. I just felt weird about how we went about it. It felt like the idea was that we were battling some sort of evil, praying that a certain event would happen. I love this gal and I know she has a huge impact on the lives of students there. I do this same thing all the time too. Me missing my flight was evil and my responsibility in prayer was to pray against that evil it seemed. The good Christian thing to do would be to call up all my friends and have them pray that I make my flight, so that I can be a bit more comfortable over the next few days.

+++

I could totally see Jesus stepping into the situation (He did actually but I'm thinking physical Jesus incarnate). I would be freaking out and asking him to get my flight held. "Jesus I totally have faith in you, can you take care of this... come on... it's gonna be a bummer stuck here."

"Do not worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow will worry about itself."

This is where I would start to get pissed off, first of all because I already knew that was in the Bible, and second because I was ignoring it.

Jesus then crawls up on a chair right in the middle of the airport and says "Beware of bitterness. You all travel to your homes to spend time with relatives that you don't want to talk to, why do you keep up such formalities and avoid healing wounds."

The words penetrate my heart. I don't care about the flight anymore. Jesus seemed indifferent about it from the beginning.

Jesus gets off the chair and we start walking towards my gate. I'm still not thinking about the flight. "I'm a jerk huh?"

"There is grace. I love you. I know you love your family. All is forgiven."

We arrive at the gate when I snap back into reality. "Are you two on flight 4021?" The lady behind the counter looks suspiciously at Jesus on account that he is middle eastern.

"Yea that's us."

"Oh good, well we had a small delay, you guys made it not a moment too late."

Jesus smiles at me and says "I would rather have you stay here and share some hope with people; but I know you aren't ready for that yet. Don't worry, I still love you, let's get home."

+++

I think in the long run, whether I made it or not was moot. God's kingdom does not come in fixed flights, or continued employment, it comes in our hearts. God wants to heal families, cure our bitterness, make us patient and loving. I used to think that trusting God was believing that he would do whatever we wanted. I think now it's trusting that God knows what's going on, and knows what He's doing. I'm not all about New Year's resolutions; but I want to trust God more this year, go about doing His work with his peace reigning in my heart, whether He holds the flight nor not.

And this is how he taught them to pray

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

Amen.

Any man can get a flight held. Only God can change the heart.

The God Who is Not me.

I've been reading Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts. Now I'm starting on Searching for God Knows What. Good stuff. I loved Blue Like Jazz when I read it a few months ago. Mostly I love the writing, but I love his honesty. It really lays bare the very human side of interacting with divinity. He described interacting with God as a dance in which we are continually getting our toes stepped on as we learn to dance with Him. He described his own bruised feet.

I was painting a house this week, some friends helped out. We got talking about my delusions of seeking divinity.

"So maybe I should start my own cult, you know, become a divinity and all that."
The girls didn't like that much "Yea you could be a natural Charlie Manson."
"So you guys wanna have a cool-aide party later?" I chuckle knivingly.
They challenge my comment "Umm I think that was Jim Jones...."
"No maybe that guy who thought Hale-bop was an alien spaceship."
"Whatever, just go pick up some cool-aide and a bottle of arsenic." I go back to painting. "Thus says the Jason."

Thank goodness I'm not God. I read this David Foster Wallace story about this guy who was in a mental institution. He went crazy after his sexual fantasy world became bigger than he was, he couldn't fit together the logic of the entire cosmos that demanded him to control every atom. So he went crazy.

The more I've been walking with God the less understandable He has become. At one time my God was simple, in a box. At some point along the journey He stepped outside of my box, to which I responded with a bigger box, then another step, and a bigger box. I've come across all sorts of "This is God" or "If you do this then God will do this." God is good, God is wrathful, God is just, God is unchanging, God changes his mind?, God is one, God is three, God tells the Israelites to kill men women and children in Canaan, God tells his followers to love even their enemy, God cannot tolerate sin, God is tolerating sin for a time, God is merciful, God allows suffering. He's really a confusing mess really... to us. The confusion doesn't scare me, I'm not sure why. I just trust Him, I just trust that he is good. I trust Him when He says that if I accept His Son who comes on behalf of Him, and who is Him, if I walk with Him, get to know Him, I am His child, his little kid.

He is the one that holds it all together. He's the one who set up the plan of salvation. No matter how I end up looking at things, they are still his plans that will be carried out in His will. I don't have to figure out His plans, He just wants me to relate to Him and share the love and grace He gives to me with those around me. I don't have to 'prove' God exists or that He is good. I can tell them, but in the end He's the one whose gotta do the convincing in the hearts, and they have to recieve it. If God is an intellectual enterprise, then too bad for all the mentally handicapped, or uneducated, or illiterate, cause they aren't going to get all the close to God's heart right? In the end what will Jesus say? Well to some who did all sorts of signs and had plenty of knowledge He said "Depart from me I never knew you." It's about relationship with this way bigger than us, complex to a frustrating degree, unlimited, divine being. To say we are an ant farm to the human is an insult to how beyond us the maker of this material world is.

God be bigger than me, cause if you can fit in my box, you are no God at all. Teach me to trust you, experience or not, feeling or not, understanding or not. Thank you for the life you have given. Thank you for guitar, Delta Blues, Piano conciertos, molassas cookies, literature, and blazing sunsets. Oh and beautiful women... ok just one beautiful woman. Thank you for the realization of your existance, thank you for the gift of being able to trust you. Thank you for walking with me, and teaching me to dance.

Cat Furniture and Social Retards

Travis makes cat furniture. Big cat furniture with varying elevations for the kitty to romp on with his little paws. He makes small cat furniture, just a basic scratching post for your conservative Mennonite cats who practice simplicity. Travis makes cat furniture.

Travis drives a big blue Ford truck that get's 30 mpg. He puts oil in the Diesel to make it last longer. It's a 7.2 liter that they use in dump trucks. If a Bradley Fighting Vehicle ran it over it wouldn't bust it.

Travis has a kerosene heater he just bought for his shop. It's fuel injected. It burns three gallons of Kerosene an hour; but he doesn't need to run it more than a half hour a day. It works pretty good to keep him warm while he's working on cat furniture. Before it cost him $200 a month with an electric heater.

Travis is awkward. I'm a jerk so if I'm honest I would say he is socially retarded.** He's a child of God, he is beautiful to the Father, he is loved by the Father. I'm not God, I'm not Jesus; as a result I tend to be really selfish, a jerk really.

Travis called the church looking for a singles group. They gave him my number. I could tell by his voice that he was socially retarded; and he wanted to know if there were single girls in the group... oh geez. I figured I couldn't get away with a clean conscience without inviting him to something, so I invited him on to hang out with us on Sunday. He hit on my now girlfriend, and was as I predicted socially retarded. I found out very quickly that he makes cat furniture.

It's been a few weeks, he's still socially retarded. I've heard so many times about what kind of carpet he uses for his cat furniture. I know his truck better than I know my own -now wrecked- car. It is so ridiculously draining talking with this guy. I don't even know what to say. Today he said "Did you know Wal-mart employs a million people around the world? I'd have to make a lot of cat furniture to have that many employees!"

I was drastically curious "What brought that to mind Travis?"

He shrugged "I don't know, just thinkin."

I have my arm around my lovely girlfriend who by this time has escaped the torture by falling asleep. Travis makes me want to have a Thyroid problem just like her. Sleep, sweet escape. I want to talk about deep stuff, fun stuff. I want to talk with my girlfriend for more than five minutes without hearing about freaking cat furniture! He draws you in, he just stares at you and won't let you get away from the conversation!

Travis.

Travis shows me how selfish I am. How disabled I am. I have such an inability to love. To have compassion. I know I'm trying, I know we're doing a ton just by continuing to invite him on Sundays. How does this line up with what the God of the Universe says to me?

From Philippians 2

Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

There's this site called failblog.org that puts up all this pictures of obvious failure by us stupid humans. My life on the site would be LOVE FAIL.

Jesus is God, quite familiar with divine conversation, perfect love, perfect selflessness, communion of the Trinity. He became man and hung out with a region full of social, spiritual retards. Peter... retard. Thomas... retard. All twelve disciples... retards. Read the gospels, read acts. They did amazing things... and they did stupid things.

The tenderness and mercy of Jesus blew right past their shortcomings, their undesireableness. God interacting with man on a daily basis.

Being around Travis will be a good thing for me. Hopefully he feels loved and recieves friendship from us. Beign around Travis drags me into the street naked; standing before God next to my mistress, selfishness. He shows me mercy; but calls me to leave my lust behind, my lust for myself, my passion for my own desires. I can talk all day of what is "emotionally healthy" for me, or "what I can stand" in relating to Travis. God have mercy on me. This selfish, prideful man.





**The mentally ill are a beautiful part of God's kingdom, I have heard stories of healing and love that have flowed from simple hearts that put me to shame. If you read the whole thing right you'll see that my distinctions of calling someone socially retarded are a selfish sinful human distinction. Retard is a dirogitory term only because in our selfishness we have deemed the mentally handicapped as something 'less' than us. My use of the word shows not only my willingnes to make Travis something 'less' in my mind; but also acknowledges that in some way I consider myself more viable than the mentally ill. May God have mercy on me.

A Goshen Winter Walk

I wrecked my car last week. It's my own stupid fault, I picked up my cell after getting a text and rear ended someone. The only thing you need to know for this post is that I don't currently have a car.

So I was painting a house for some new acquaintances today trying to piece together a bit of cash in this jobless desert called Elkhart County. I was in a hurry to hitch a ride with Wilbur this morning that I forgot to get breakfast, or bring a lunch. So about 10a.m. I realize this. First I try to call Papa Johns. Too expensive, they won't deliver under $10 orders. So the unthinkable happens... I have to walk. I walk fifteen minutes across downtown Goshen to Subway, then fifteen minutes back.

It was actually kind of nice. Things were pretty toasty around here today (38 degrees, arg). I saw a couple of people, they smiled and said hello. I got exercise. I didn't have to pay the money for gas. I didn't have to worry about rear ending someone. I felt like my little trip to Subway was actually worth something. Good exercise, fresh air, and I'm a little bit tougher for dealing with the cold.

I understand that there are inconveniences to not having a car, but I'm loving the limitations, the forced simplicity of choice. I did really want to go see my girlfriend a bit, she's not feeling well, but she went to bed early anyways. I just feel like the pace of life is so much more relaxed when you don't have the option to go anywhere you want whenever you want.

To leap accross the chasm to spiritual application, dying to self is hard. I have choices everywhere. I liked how Rich Mullin's put it "The stuff of earth competes for the allegience that I owe only to the giver of all good things." This whole not having a car thing is making life slow down for me. It's an adjustment, but I like it. Sometimes we have to up the concentration and find God through the distractions; but why can't we adjust the pace of life so we can hear Him better? I want to quit asking God to speak through the noise, THAT I'M MAKING, and slow down enough to hear Him, and not just on Sunday afternoons when the Colts are barely pulling out another W in the 4th.

"Evil looks like business." -Mike Yacconelli

Dad, thank you for the car wreck.

Spiritual Gluttony

I believe I'm suffering from spiritual gluttony. My spiritual addiction is catching up to me. The next high, the deeper walk.... for what? So I can sit on my butt some more.

It would be stupid to say that God hasn't worked through me, or that I haven't been doing any of his work; but the kinds of work I have been doing don't really cost me all that much.

So here I sit again "God why the hell don't I feel anything?!" I read, I pray, grasping at Him, air, anything. I feel nothing. Not sad, or in despair longing for Him, just nothing, blank, empty, gone, transparent. I'm emotionless enough as it is, I find myself enjoying emotional pain at times. When I hurt, I'm feeling something.

I want joy, I want simplicity in faith, I want laughter. These things come to those who throw themselves wholeheartedly into the kingdom. It's not so much God withholding Himself from us, He continues to infuse His presence into our selfish lives; but if we want to drown in Him then we need to jump in, not just stick our face under the water.

"He is not a tame Lion, but he is good." C.S. Lewis wrote of Aslan, his representation of Christ. My Jesus is not tame, not a house kitty; yet I expect him to come in and sit with me by the fire. Sometimes he does, other times he's out in the blistering cold, in the wind and snow, asking me to come outside in my bare feet. "Sorry, too cold, come inside so we can be close like you want." Of course then I get all pissed off when he stays out there "What, you don't love me?" What a putz, huh? You'd think he'd bite my selfish human head off, his failure to strike me dead is an example of His patience, love and compassion.

I guess I feel like the rich young ruler.

"Good Teacher what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"

"Why do you call me good? God is the only one who is really good. You know the commandments: Don't commit adultery, Don't murder, Don't steal, Don't lie, Honor your parents."

Before Jesus got out the rest he was cut off, "Oh I've done all that."

"You're missing one thing. Sell all your stuff, give it to the poor, flip your life upside down and take up the life I offer you, follow me and what I want you to do...How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!"

I'm pretty sure I'm saved, but my desires or apathy still seem to supercede the will of my Father. I want all the trimmings; but none of the work.

May I lay down my life in order to find it.