Waiting

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.

–James 1:2-8

For too long I have been ‘like a wave of the sea blown and tossed by the wind’. Wanting desperately to find my place, my purpose, my posture–in each wavering step I take. I fight to escape the selfish desires of my heart and recognize the diminishing quality of sin will never fully relinquish its stronghold.

Said trials have lead me to a crossroads where I may only seek The Creator or delve deeper into sin, disparity and continual heartbreak. To escape the grasp of the enemy has been my deepest struggle. Sins of the flesh–jealousy, envy, bitterness, and contempt have wrestled with my soul, but will not find solace as they reside within me. I have asked God for wisdom and will persevere this unstable, upsetting terrain of my life.

Furthermore, being with the family reminds me how quickly I am to disregard my need for others. It’s easy to cut myself off from relationships when they hurt, but have most recently felt like God is giving me no other choice but  to work through these hurts and see the real value of letting others in. I just pray that God continues to help me with this process…

soon we will be old…

this is a first of many posts to Write this Greeting. (first time blogger, long time reader)

To all that will come to the end of the road,

Soon we will be senior citizens.  This thought of “being old”  does not enter into my mind as often as it probably should, but recently it has crash landed on my conscience. I can attribute this to a couple things (well I would be embarrassed to say but my stair climbing ability has digressed considerably from grade school and more obvious I have found my early Christmas list entailing a hefty amount of dark nylon socks, the things continue…) but I think the more important thing that comes out of foreseeing our old bodies is the simple messages that life gives you with it. It is not so much the life when we are 64, but so the understanding that life moves fast and Gods works and insights are in our realities today.

I will try to paraphrase God’s recent messages in my life (mostly biblical interpretations)  so it is obvious to all but also because it needs to be spelled out sometimes

1.) do not treat the earth as your home, this is a temporary place for you and me. * I am remembered of this at every major purchase in my life, at every major milestone that is not spiritual in my life, and every time someone asks me for my time, money, and effort. I am reminded to give !

2. ) Tomorrow is not promised to anyone. * While this sounds morbid, it is a beautiful way to treat your outlooks on the now. “soon we will be old” does not include the words “soon we ALL will be old”, the person closest to you might not be here tomorrow.  We should love one another, right? As we are even reminded some did not spend a day on this earth.

3.) God’s desire for us is to be faithful…forever.* If we are seeking Him, we are beginning to starting our life with him.  We will be given true satisfaction through our investment in the everlasting God and not through anything else. Ultimately, knowing our heart and its place with God over time will be our most valuable contribution looking back.

All apologies but this has the looks of a sappy chain email, but the reminder above moves me further. I believe in the preciousness that the older people in our life offer us. I am fortunate to have my parents still, to have older friends to entrust in and lead us, and even have work friends that are blue haired enough to quote MASH, rock a crossword puzzle, and nap on cue. There are old people everywhere, and if you live in Montana… there is a least 3 people older than you nearby. So my pursuit is this; to thank the Lord for the wisdom and guidance he has put into “some” of our seniors and to take advantage of it in a respectful, youthful, and hungry manner.  To finding my forester or even finding the long lost relative, I know God placed people in my life for influence, guidance, and story time.

So off to grandmothers house I go… who’s with me? Hopefully with God’s reminders we can live in new perspectives and in Joy. To our health and to old people, cheers

1*Matthew 6:19

2*Psalm 39

3* 2 Timothy 4

awake my senses

This loving patriarch was a teacher of excercise.
I remember a soft spoken smile and gentleness in his eyes.
It’s a pity that legacies lose meaning in repetitive normalcy.
And I can’t explain how I forgot the utter urgency.
Did you miss the beauty in long pauses and short escapes?
We give up resistance and we fall into line
But we march in step, in rhythm!  How unsatisfying.
The saddest part I find is the clarity of hindsight
While marching toward the battle we completely missed the fight.

http://www.kansas.com/266/story/1023718.html
http://blogs.varsitykansas.com/blog/2009/10/22/goddard-tennis-coach-john-markham-has-died/  (read the comments)

i and love and you

 

adam posting: 

Tonight the Avett Bros play a show in Madison, WI. They will visit the exact venue, The Barrymore, where eight years ago I witnessed the live performance of the Big Wu’s 10^th Anniversary show. That night was one of the happiest moments of my life, and yet it contained the saddest realization of my high school years.

The Barrymore Theater is a run-down auditorium that reminds me of a school playhouse. Two sloped cement aisles split rows of red velvet chairs and lead down to a simple elevated stage. Almost exactly eight years ago, about ten feet from that very stage, I caught my friend Danny as he slumped against my tie-dyed t-shirt. Halfway through the second night of the 10^th anniversary gig, he turned gray and passed out completely, drowning in a dizzying sea of marijuana, alcohol, and an unkown variety of mushroom.

Danny, Chris, and I had become best friends during a lonely and difficult senior year of high school. Chris and I lifted weights together three times a week. Danny and I drove together to school. The three of us shared a love of hiking and the outdoors, of jam bands and sports. Our weekend nights extended to the early hours of the morning. One night we chased deer in Danny’s rusting minivan. Another night, I drank my first beer under the one lane bridge behind Danny’s house, and we threw our empty bottles down to the paved bike path below.

We caused trouble in high school with elaborate pranks, and skipped out of classes with intertwined and intricate excuses. But, while foolish and annoying (placing dead minnows behind various library books, serving Digornio pizza to classrooms while in session, and at one point hiding a dead squirrel in the drop ceiling of the hallway outside of our gymnasium), these pranks were not endangering our character any more than a skinned knee threatens a man’s life. And yes, I do now understand the grossness of hiding dead animals as a joke and can no longer easily explain the humor in these actions.

The three of us had anticipated this early winter evening for months. We had sworn allegiance to the Big Wu over all other main-stream jam bands like the String Cheese Incident or Phish, cherishing our own Midwestern band and memorizing the words to at least a dozen songs. The afternoon of the show, we met at our local Park ‘n Ride and excitedly packed snacks and drinks into Chris’ Toyota SUV. The one hour drive to Madison lived up to our anticipation, and I distinctly remember savoring the moment while leaning forward from the backseat to join in on conversation. It felt a lot like the sense of satisfaction after eating a home-cooked meal amongst family.

We arrived wild-eyed in the college town of Madison, and it seemed that the momentum of the evening could hardly be contained. Someone spotted a local Mexican restaurant and hollered for Chris to pull in. But, halfway through our burrito dinner, I sensed that I was being left out of a shared secret. The other two guys were taking turns sneaking off to the bathroom, and they would return to the table smiling to each other as they sat down. When Danny returned to the table after his second visit to the bathroom, the upper portion of his pant leg was soaking wet, and I asked for an explanation. They had been smuggling glass bottles of beer into the bathroom in the pockets of their pants. Against my protests, the trips continued for another round, until a glass bottle crashed against the tile bathroom floor and sent us hurtling out of the restaurant.

As we careened out of the parking lot with the other two guys laughing in the front seat, the weight of loneliness began to sink into my stomach. My sense of belonging had been lost. Later that night, as I watched the people around me dancing with free spirits and inhaling strange tastes and smells with abandon, I felt isolated and alone. By the time I dragged Danny out to the SUV and forced him to drink a bottle of water, I was ready to return home.

Riding back in the darkness of the stark highway and the quietness of the exhausted group, I realized that this was the last night I would ever share with my two closest friends. I understood that they were leaning into experiences that I refused to attempt, and that the adventures were reaching depths I did not want to visit. I remember looking out of the window in sadness and admitting to myself that I could no longer pretend to share the same goals or aspirations.

That moment, while riding home, felt like someone turned on the lights during a crowded show. Suddenly the ripped velvet seats and the cracked paint of the cement aisles didn’t seem as inviting. The stage seemed smaller. And underneath the rows of seats, I could see the stains of spilled beer and the crumpled forms of discarded trash.

Humble Holiness

Consistently struggling with sin in our lives is either the result of (a) not understanding the severity of our wretchedness or (b) not respecting enough the unbelievable grace Christ has poured out to us.  Balancing the understanding of both our wretchedness and the beauty of grace is honestly very difficult.  If you live in constant shame, you are still living with a burden that should be bourn by Christ.  If you don’t understand your depravity without Christ, how can you ever love Him with the proper dependence?  Oswald Chambers wrote “my attitude as a saved and sanctified soul is that of profound humble holiness (there is no such thing as proud holiness), a holiness based on agonizing repentance and a sense of unspeakable shame and degradation; and also on the amazing realization that the love of God commended itself to me in that while I cared nothing about Him, He completed everything for my salvation and sanctification.”

I believe that in seeking ‘profound humble holiness’, we must first focus on truly falling in love with our Savior.  It’s impossible to measure up with enough holiness from a legalistic perspective — plus, that would be proud holiness.  If we are in love with Jesus, seeking obedience is our natural action.  Therein lies true satisfaction and purpose.

The Radio Department

Just wanted to share a little something…

The Radio Department…my new favorite. I love upbeat indie/folk music with an emphasis on piano. Hence my love for The Swell Season. In my mind, The Radio Department is what happens when Anathallo meets Keane and yields something that is oh-so-cunningly-awesome and delightfully ambient. I imagine driving in my Mini Cooper someday [sooner than later] listening to this while I wholeheartedly exceed the speed limits of the Midwestern countryside. Check it out and see if you love it as much as I.

http://www.myspace.com/officialradiodept

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvzOBTqMHLs

Cory

grand opening

Hey guys — here we go with a start.  No clue whether this is right or not but Cory got me psyched to get this thing going.  Will write back soon with more of an update!