Have you ever had so many ideas in your head you don't know where to start?
There are so many things rolling around in my brain right now. New ideas for music. Plans for decorating our house. Visions for ministry. Story lines for scripts. It's all getting a bit jumbled and overwhelming.
The annoying thing is that when I feel like this, instead of pushing forward, I retreat. I feel so overwhelmed, I don't know where to start. So instead of just picking something and going with it, I do nothing, hoping that somehow I'll be told what to do. Maybe it's time to jump in the deep end and see what happens.
Or maybe I'll wait 'til tomorrow...
Monday, February 23, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Mystery
Why do we hate mystery?
Oh, sure, we love a good mystery story every now and then, but we have to have all the loose ends neatly tied and all questions answered by the end. If not we feel disappointed or frustrated. Or we eagerly anticipate the sequel (or prequel) that will explain everything. And yet, all too often, continuing the story to answer all the questions winds up making things worse. (Godfather 3, anyone?)
I'm a big Star Wars fan and I have actually been debating on how to show my kids the series. If I show them the prequels first, the big reveal in Episode V loses all its impact. But at the same time, the shock of Anakin's fall and betrayal in the prequels wasn't as dramatic for me, knowing the outcome already. (Then again, maybe that has to do with the sub-par storytelling of the prequels) Or maybe I shouldn't show them at all and leave that era of the Star Wars story a mystery for them to enjoy. Ah, the debates that rage through the mind of a nerd...
The series Lost is a great example of our wrestling match with mystery. Some people have been frustrated by all the mysteries, and the lack of answers to many of the questions. But if there were no overshadowing mysteries, would the show be as interesting? When I first heard about the concept for the show, I didn't think it would last more than a season. Who wants to watch a bunch of people stuck on a deserted island? Doesn't Survivor already do that? It's the supernatural, mysterious elements that make the show worth watching. I just hope they end the show when it is time and don't just string out a bunch more questions to keep the show on life support, ala X-Files.
I think there is a certain beauty in the mystery. I think life would be boring if we had all the answers. Isn't life more interesting one step at a time? Would you live your life the same way if you knew how everything was going to turn out? Or would knowing the outcome change your decisions?
Here's to a little more mystery!
Oh, sure, we love a good mystery story every now and then, but we have to have all the loose ends neatly tied and all questions answered by the end. If not we feel disappointed or frustrated. Or we eagerly anticipate the sequel (or prequel) that will explain everything. And yet, all too often, continuing the story to answer all the questions winds up making things worse. (Godfather 3, anyone?)
I'm a big Star Wars fan and I have actually been debating on how to show my kids the series. If I show them the prequels first, the big reveal in Episode V loses all its impact. But at the same time, the shock of Anakin's fall and betrayal in the prequels wasn't as dramatic for me, knowing the outcome already. (Then again, maybe that has to do with the sub-par storytelling of the prequels) Or maybe I shouldn't show them at all and leave that era of the Star Wars story a mystery for them to enjoy. Ah, the debates that rage through the mind of a nerd...
The series Lost is a great example of our wrestling match with mystery. Some people have been frustrated by all the mysteries, and the lack of answers to many of the questions. But if there were no overshadowing mysteries, would the show be as interesting? When I first heard about the concept for the show, I didn't think it would last more than a season. Who wants to watch a bunch of people stuck on a deserted island? Doesn't Survivor already do that? It's the supernatural, mysterious elements that make the show worth watching. I just hope they end the show when it is time and don't just string out a bunch more questions to keep the show on life support, ala X-Files.
I think there is a certain beauty in the mystery. I think life would be boring if we had all the answers. Isn't life more interesting one step at a time? Would you live your life the same way if you knew how everything was going to turn out? Or would knowing the outcome change your decisions?
Here's to a little more mystery!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Brazil
I finally got around to watching the film Brazil, by Terry Gilliam. I have always enjoyed Gilliam's work and this one was probably one of his best. Granted, I saw a director's cut and several of his films have been reportedly ruined by studio meddling, but it seemed to be his best executed film. Everything really flowed and made sense in that bizarre Terry Gilliam way. The film seemed complete, whereas some of his others seem to be missing something once you get to the end.
I also enjoyed the story and world that he created. His idea of a future where information is commodity, privacy is non-existent, and bureaucracy reigns supreme is disturbingly prescient. The excessive security enacted to combat terrorism is the very complaint many have lodged against the Patriot Act. For anyone who has had "contraband" confiscated at the airport, there is a hilarious scene when the main character and his mother enter a restaurant and the gift she has bought him triggers an alarm.
The story is a wonderfully tragic tale, echoing the classic greek tragedies, where the main character, in order to avoid the thing he dreads, sets off a chain of events that bring his fear to fruition. It all leads to an ending that is so brilliant and off-beat, that you can't think of a better one. And of course, I'll never be able to listen to Pink Martini quite the same again...
I also enjoyed the story and world that he created. His idea of a future where information is commodity, privacy is non-existent, and bureaucracy reigns supreme is disturbingly prescient. The excessive security enacted to combat terrorism is the very complaint many have lodged against the Patriot Act. For anyone who has had "contraband" confiscated at the airport, there is a hilarious scene when the main character and his mother enter a restaurant and the gift she has bought him triggers an alarm.
The story is a wonderfully tragic tale, echoing the classic greek tragedies, where the main character, in order to avoid the thing he dreads, sets off a chain of events that bring his fear to fruition. It all leads to an ending that is so brilliant and off-beat, that you can't think of a better one. And of course, I'll never be able to listen to Pink Martini quite the same again...
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Steps
He stands on the brink.
The path behind him is a winding trail of missteps and surprises, but the steps were easy to see. Ahead, he sees nothing but a whirling morass of clouds swirling through a deep valley. Over the chaos before him, he can still hear the beautiful strains that have lured him thus far. But here the path fades to gray mists. It is almost as if the ground itself was swallowed by the curtain of fog that obscures his way. If he steps forward, will he be able to find his way, or will he lose the melody in the thick blanket and never find his way out? Is there even a way out on the other side? Will the ground hold him, or will he lose his footing and tumble into the abyss? Is there even any ground to stand on?
He knows he cannot go back; his destination lies ahead. He must move forward. The song compels him.
The storm is coming.
The path behind him is a winding trail of missteps and surprises, but the steps were easy to see. Ahead, he sees nothing but a whirling morass of clouds swirling through a deep valley. Over the chaos before him, he can still hear the beautiful strains that have lured him thus far. But here the path fades to gray mists. It is almost as if the ground itself was swallowed by the curtain of fog that obscures his way. If he steps forward, will he be able to find his way, or will he lose the melody in the thick blanket and never find his way out? Is there even a way out on the other side? Will the ground hold him, or will he lose his footing and tumble into the abyss? Is there even any ground to stand on?
He knows he cannot go back; his destination lies ahead. He must move forward. The song compels him.
The storm is coming.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Dark Knight
The Motion Picture Academy has once again proven that they are total snobs who cannot bring themselves to respect any film released before November. I have not yet seen any of the best picture/director nominees, but to not even honor a film as powerful and well-crafted as The Dark Knight is ridiculous. The only major nomination it received was for Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker, which is deserved, but also was a foregone conclusion to most 6 months ago. This was one of the finest crafted films I have ever seen. In fact, it was almost more of an experience than just a film.
Not only was The Dark Knight an enjoyable and engaging action movie, but it also addressed some very interesting ideas and issues. Of course it had the theme of good vs. evil, but most importantly, it tried to find the line between the two. The Joker is constantly trying to push Batman to break his one rule. Through that conflict we also see some ideas about integrity, and the seduction of the darker side of humanity. There are also themes of sacrifice, justice, loss, and so many more elements of the human story.
What most fascinated me, though, was the central idea of the film that is given in the title itself. In the end Batman embraces the persona of the dark knight, the one who lives in shadows and confronts evil on its own terms. He realizes that in a broken world, sometimes society needs people to do its dirty work, only to be reviled by the very people they are protecting. I find this especially fascinating given the timing of the film. Given the vehement dislike of the president who just left office over issues like the war on terrorism, torture, infringement of personal privacy, and other issues, this film was terribly ironic in its popularity. At the same time that people were reviling our president for allowing water boarding of suspected terrorists, they were applauding as Batman beat the Joker to a pulp while in police custody. The top grossing film of the year (and second-most all-time) was validating every controversial move of the Bush administration, yet most people never even noticed.
And that right there is the beauty of this film. It grappled with deep and powerful issues that most people totally missed because they were having too much fun. It hid valuable truths and insightful questions deep inside an entertaining and beautiful story. Isn't that the point of any artistic medium?
Not only was The Dark Knight an enjoyable and engaging action movie, but it also addressed some very interesting ideas and issues. Of course it had the theme of good vs. evil, but most importantly, it tried to find the line between the two. The Joker is constantly trying to push Batman to break his one rule. Through that conflict we also see some ideas about integrity, and the seduction of the darker side of humanity. There are also themes of sacrifice, justice, loss, and so many more elements of the human story.
What most fascinated me, though, was the central idea of the film that is given in the title itself. In the end Batman embraces the persona of the dark knight, the one who lives in shadows and confronts evil on its own terms. He realizes that in a broken world, sometimes society needs people to do its dirty work, only to be reviled by the very people they are protecting. I find this especially fascinating given the timing of the film. Given the vehement dislike of the president who just left office over issues like the war on terrorism, torture, infringement of personal privacy, and other issues, this film was terribly ironic in its popularity. At the same time that people were reviling our president for allowing water boarding of suspected terrorists, they were applauding as Batman beat the Joker to a pulp while in police custody. The top grossing film of the year (and second-most all-time) was validating every controversial move of the Bush administration, yet most people never even noticed.
And that right there is the beauty of this film. It grappled with deep and powerful issues that most people totally missed because they were having too much fun. It hid valuable truths and insightful questions deep inside an entertaining and beautiful story. Isn't that the point of any artistic medium?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Rest
Why is it so hard to really rest? I'm not talking about veging out in front of the TV, or playing video games, or the hundreds of other activities we call "rest", but really, truly rest. Take time away from the daily grind and recharge seems like such a difficult task, but it is so necessary.
Last week, I caught a nasty little cold and tried to stay home and rest. Well, I stayed home, but rest was not a part of my days at home. I tried to relax and not do much, but I still needed to help take care of the boys and get some things done around the house. I realize that that is just part of being a parent, but how often do we do the same thing. We have an opportunity to rest, or our bodies make us rest, and instead of truly resting, we fritter away our time on useless activities.
I guess a lot of it has to do with how one recharges. I know people are relaxed and energized by different activities, but I feel like our culture is constantly trying to push us to do more with less time. We now have all these ridiculous energy drinks that will help keep us up to do all the millions of things we want to do (or think we are supposed to do), meanwhile telling us that sleep is for the weak. (I'm not making that up. I actually saw an energy drink ad that said that.) People seem to see true rest as a waste of time, not a valuable and vital part of our lives. And then we wonder why people are burnt out or turn to drugs or alcohol or other risky behaviors to find some sort of release.
So maybe this week, instead of turning on the TV or the video games or whatever else, ask yourself, "How do I truly rest?" and go do it.
Last week, I caught a nasty little cold and tried to stay home and rest. Well, I stayed home, but rest was not a part of my days at home. I tried to relax and not do much, but I still needed to help take care of the boys and get some things done around the house. I realize that that is just part of being a parent, but how often do we do the same thing. We have an opportunity to rest, or our bodies make us rest, and instead of truly resting, we fritter away our time on useless activities.
I guess a lot of it has to do with how one recharges. I know people are relaxed and energized by different activities, but I feel like our culture is constantly trying to push us to do more with less time. We now have all these ridiculous energy drinks that will help keep us up to do all the millions of things we want to do (or think we are supposed to do), meanwhile telling us that sleep is for the weak. (I'm not making that up. I actually saw an energy drink ad that said that.) People seem to see true rest as a waste of time, not a valuable and vital part of our lives. And then we wonder why people are burnt out or turn to drugs or alcohol or other risky behaviors to find some sort of release.
So maybe this week, instead of turning on the TV or the video games or whatever else, ask yourself, "How do I truly rest?" and go do it.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A Brief Review
The Complete Fairy Tales by George MacDonaldrating: 5 of 5 stars
A very enjoyable collection of MacDonald's shorter works. Publishing them in chronological order allows you to see the progression of his work throughout his life. Be sure to read his essay at the beginning entitled The Fantastic Imagination. It is extremely helpful to understand his views and ideas about fantasy stories. It helps you to grasp some of the deeper meanings, while also giving you permission to just enjoy the stories for what they are. Any fan of fantasy (especially C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein who were big fans) should be sure to give this a read.
View all my reviews.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
True
"'That's too good to be true,' said Nanny.
'There are very few things good enough to be true,' said Diamond; 'but I hope this is. Too good to be true can't be. Isn't true good? and isn't good good? And how then, can anything be too good to be true?...'"
George MacDonald, from At the Back of the North Wind
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Critique
The best way with music, I imagine, is not to bring the forces of our intellect to bear upon it, but to be still and let it work on that part of us for whose sake it exists. We spoil countless precious things by intellectual greed. He who will be a man, and will not be a child, must-he cannot help himself-become a little man, a dwarf. he will, however, need no consolation, for he is sure to think himself a very large creature indeed.
George MacDonald, from The Fantastic Imagination
How often do we ruin great work by tearing it apart and inspecting every inch of it? It is like buying a brand new car, tearing it apart completely, and then declaring it a great feat of engineering. That's great, but now your car is a worthless pile of parts.
Now, I enjoy a good, intellectual discussion of a film or book, but there is a limit. Too often we dissect a thing of beauty until there is no beauty left to enjoy. There were several books we studied in school that were destroyed by digging too deep and reaching for meaning that was not there and was never intended. I know that these studies were supposed to help us understand the craft of writing and see symbols and themes, but more often than not it merely drained the book of all enjoyment.
Because of this, I have never been a big fan of critics. Too often they lay an unfair criterion on a piece, and then criticize it for not being what they thought it should be. It often does not matter what the artist intended. They dissect things and try to make them more important than the creator ever intended.
I am reminded of the critics who said that Tolkein's Lord of the Rings saga was an allegory of World War II, even though Tolkein himself consistently denied it. Sure, he took themes from the events of his life (like all good artists) but that does not mean it was intended to be a direct allegory. Yet, some critics probably still believe that was his goal.
So, instead of intellectual dissection of art, why not merely enjoy something, even though you may not understand why? Perhaps someday in the future, you will see what it is that struck you so deeply. But for now, just enjoy, like children who enjoy without questioning.
But indeed your children are not likely to trouble you about the meaning. They find what they are capable of finding, and more would be too much. For my part, I do not write for children, but for the childlike. whether of five, or fifty, or seventy-five.
George MacDonald, from The Fantastic Imagination
Friday, January 2, 2009
Purpose
"The best thing you can do for your fellow, next to rousing his conscience is-not to give him something to think about, but to wake things up that are in him; or say, to make him think for himself."
-George MacDonald, from The Fantastic Imagination
Thursday, January 1, 2009
2009
Well, a happy new year to everyone!
2008 was an interesting year, and has left some unfinished business for me. I look forward to seeing where things are going.
Some hopes for the new year:
I hope to get my script published. The show went extremely well, and I got a lot of positive feedback. I'd like to work on some of the arrangements and neaten things up a bit, so publishing may be more work than I realize, but I would really like to get it out there.
I hope to do some more writing. Since writing the script and the new songs for it, my brain has been aswirl with ideas and thoughts. Some things might appear here and some may just ferment for a little while. We shall see.
I hope to figure out what I'm doing about Seminary. I've applied, but haven't actually started, because things have been so crazy, I didn't feel good adding anything new.
Above all, I hope to be more aware of God and what He is doing in my everyday life. I feel like I have been too bogged down in doing what needs to be done without stopping to see God. I want that to change and it is going to take considerable effort.
Here's to a new adventure!
2008 was an interesting year, and has left some unfinished business for me. I look forward to seeing where things are going.
Some hopes for the new year:
I hope to get my script published. The show went extremely well, and I got a lot of positive feedback. I'd like to work on some of the arrangements and neaten things up a bit, so publishing may be more work than I realize, but I would really like to get it out there.
I hope to do some more writing. Since writing the script and the new songs for it, my brain has been aswirl with ideas and thoughts. Some things might appear here and some may just ferment for a little while. We shall see.
I hope to figure out what I'm doing about Seminary. I've applied, but haven't actually started, because things have been so crazy, I didn't feel good adding anything new.
Above all, I hope to be more aware of God and what He is doing in my everyday life. I feel like I have been too bogged down in doing what needs to be done without stopping to see God. I want that to change and it is going to take considerable effort.
Here's to a new adventure!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Busy-ness
Well, it's been a long time. I had hoped to get back on this whole blogging thing and make more regular contributions to the haze, but it was not to be. But life is busy and this hasn't been the top of my priorities. Among some things that have been going on: I am writing the musical our church is doing this Christmas (no small task), I am applying for grad school, plus some fun trips this summer and family stuff. All in all, things keep me busy.
But in reality, I probably have more time than I think. I certainly find a lot of ways to waste time. I'm sure I don't need to spend quite so much time surfing various websites, or dinking around on the computer. I could certainly spend less time watching TV. But then again there are a lot of other things that I should or could be doing, that I don't.
I think there's always that push and pull between busy and quiet. So maybe it's a matter of balancing what needs to be done, what ought to be done, and what you want to do, and not feeling guilty when you choose one over the other for a time.
But in reality, I probably have more time than I think. I certainly find a lot of ways to waste time. I'm sure I don't need to spend quite so much time surfing various websites, or dinking around on the computer. I could certainly spend less time watching TV. But then again there are a lot of other things that I should or could be doing, that I don't.
I think there's always that push and pull between busy and quiet. So maybe it's a matter of balancing what needs to be done, what ought to be done, and what you want to do, and not feeling guilty when you choose one over the other for a time.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Ownership
Why do we have such an intense desire to own things?
This question started nagging at me over Christmas and popped up again around my birthday. I'm not totally sure why, but you can't deny that humans have a desire, some times even a need, to own things. Is it a control issue? Does it make us feel more powerful or significant when we own something? Perhaps it is a need for security, and our stuff insulates us from the harsh realities of the world? Why are we so greedy and protective of the things we own or don't own, when we know that in the end, all of our stuff will mean nothing?
Then again, is ownership even real, or is it merely an illusion? Just because it is in our possession, do we really own it? This is especially murky when we talk about intellectual and artistic property. According to copyright law, you only own a copy of some one else's property that you have paid for the right to use, but only for limited applications.
And yet, there is plenty of money to be made from this illusion of ownership. Just ask amazon.com, where you can not only buy just about anything you can imagine, you can make a wishlist of all the wonderful little goodies others can buy for you. How thoughtfully convenient!
But this isn't just a phenomenon of the digital age. Jesus spoke quite a bit about ownership, and usually quite harshly. (Matthew 6:19-34) In fact, much of law throughout history deals with ownership. Apparently, we have always been greedy, needy people. And believe me, it starts at an early age. In the time since I sat down to write this, I've had to separate my 19-month-old twins at least four times, because they were fighting over a toy.
While I don't completely know what makes us desire this ownership of objects, I do know that it makes us do terrible, irrational things, and it should be resisted. I do still have my amazon.com wishlist, but i have been more thoughtful of late as to what I put on it. Do I actually have a valid reason to want to own that movie, book, or CD, or do I just want the empty satisfaction of ownership? My wife and I have enjoyed using the Blockbuster online system for movies, and I suddenly have less desire to own various DVDs. I have also recently rediscovered the joy of the public library system. I guess if my tax dollars are paying for it, why not use it? But seriously, it has helped me to see that I don't need to own every book I want to read.
This attitude might also help us be more generous with what we do have. I think generosity comes from not being too attached to the material. When we care too much about our things, we guard them very closely. But when we know their true value, we are free to give of our possessions. And that is something I know God desires from us.
This question started nagging at me over Christmas and popped up again around my birthday. I'm not totally sure why, but you can't deny that humans have a desire, some times even a need, to own things. Is it a control issue? Does it make us feel more powerful or significant when we own something? Perhaps it is a need for security, and our stuff insulates us from the harsh realities of the world? Why are we so greedy and protective of the things we own or don't own, when we know that in the end, all of our stuff will mean nothing?
Then again, is ownership even real, or is it merely an illusion? Just because it is in our possession, do we really own it? This is especially murky when we talk about intellectual and artistic property. According to copyright law, you only own a copy of some one else's property that you have paid for the right to use, but only for limited applications.
And yet, there is plenty of money to be made from this illusion of ownership. Just ask amazon.com, where you can not only buy just about anything you can imagine, you can make a wishlist of all the wonderful little goodies others can buy for you. How thoughtfully convenient!
But this isn't just a phenomenon of the digital age. Jesus spoke quite a bit about ownership, and usually quite harshly. (Matthew 6:19-34) In fact, much of law throughout history deals with ownership. Apparently, we have always been greedy, needy people. And believe me, it starts at an early age. In the time since I sat down to write this, I've had to separate my 19-month-old twins at least four times, because they were fighting over a toy.
While I don't completely know what makes us desire this ownership of objects, I do know that it makes us do terrible, irrational things, and it should be resisted. I do still have my amazon.com wishlist, but i have been more thoughtful of late as to what I put on it. Do I actually have a valid reason to want to own that movie, book, or CD, or do I just want the empty satisfaction of ownership? My wife and I have enjoyed using the Blockbuster online system for movies, and I suddenly have less desire to own various DVDs. I have also recently rediscovered the joy of the public library system. I guess if my tax dollars are paying for it, why not use it? But seriously, it has helped me to see that I don't need to own every book I want to read.
This attitude might also help us be more generous with what we do have. I think generosity comes from not being too attached to the material. When we care too much about our things, we guard them very closely. But when we know their true value, we are free to give of our possessions. And that is something I know God desires from us.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Query
Why do we spend so much time telling Christians to bring people to church, when Jesus tells us to do the exact opposite - bring the Church to people? Matthew 28:19-20
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Update
It's been a while since I've posted. Things have been just a tad busy. In December, we put on a dinner theater with our church and moved into a new house, all in the same weekend. No we aren't crazy, the two just happened to coincide, and there was really no better options. At least by moving in that weekend, we had three weeks to move before Christmas.
Christmas came with its usual assortment of busy schedules, followed by a week-long trip to Reno and Sacramento to visit family. Of course with 15-month-old babies, that made for some very long trips, but overall, the boys did very well.
After returning home, I was scheduled to preach the following Sunday, so naturally I came down with food poisoning or something. The day I preached was the first day in the previous three that I was able to stand for more than 5 minutes without feeling nauseous. Overall, I think it went well. The best comment I received was someone telling me, "it made me think." If that is all I did, then I accomplished what I set out to do. If you want to hear some of my thoughts on the church, you can go here: http://bethanyto.com/sounds/2008-01-06LW-BeTheChurch.mp3
Since then, our lives have mostly been occupied with the continued process of moving and settling into our new home. I have been working on a script, so that has taken much of my writing effort. The aforementioned dinner theater, while incredibly fun, was a terrible script, so the director and I are writing out scripts of our own, to better match our needs and audience. It will be interesting to see if these scripts ever really see the light of day.
I have a few other things that I have been working on for posts, but haven't finished, so keep checking back. Perhaps I will actually have something posted. Then again, perhaps not.
Christmas came with its usual assortment of busy schedules, followed by a week-long trip to Reno and Sacramento to visit family. Of course with 15-month-old babies, that made for some very long trips, but overall, the boys did very well.
After returning home, I was scheduled to preach the following Sunday, so naturally I came down with food poisoning or something. The day I preached was the first day in the previous three that I was able to stand for more than 5 minutes without feeling nauseous. Overall, I think it went well. The best comment I received was someone telling me, "it made me think." If that is all I did, then I accomplished what I set out to do. If you want to hear some of my thoughts on the church, you can go here: http://bethanyto.com/sounds/2008-01-06LW-BeTheChurch.mp3
Since then, our lives have mostly been occupied with the continued process of moving and settling into our new home. I have been working on a script, so that has taken much of my writing effort. The aforementioned dinner theater, while incredibly fun, was a terrible script, so the director and I are writing out scripts of our own, to better match our needs and audience. It will be interesting to see if these scripts ever really see the light of day.
I have a few other things that I have been working on for posts, but haven't finished, so keep checking back. Perhaps I will actually have something posted. Then again, perhaps not.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Wind and Fire (No Earth)
This past weekend, Christie, the boys, and I were down in San Diego for the National Youth Workers' Convention (more on that later). I stepped out of a seminar on Sunday afternoon and knew immediately that there was a fire nearby. I could not see smoke until I stepped further away from the building to see over it, but the lighting had a very distinct feel to it that anyone raised in this area knows and dreads. As reports from family and others filtered in we soon discovered, as everyone else has, that much of Southern California was dealing with wildfires.
As we checked out of the hotel Monday morning, we were beginning to get a glimpse of the terrible toll these fires were taking. Evacuees were arriving to check in looking tired, wearing breathing masks, and carrying everything that was important to them. We hit the road as soon as possible and met more evacuees on the jammed freeway out of town. Traffic was terrible, everything reeked of smoke, and the sky ahead had an ominous look to it.
As we labored on through the traffic, Christie tried to call her sister, who lives in San Marcos just north of San Diego. We had spent a day with Carol and her husband at their beautiful house on the way down to the conference. How things change in just a few short days. Christie didn't get a hold of Carol, but we assumed the best and kept driving.
Oddly enough, the traffic broke free as we drove under a cloud so dark we had to use our headlights at 10:30 in the morning. Traffic remained relatively clear until we met the next fire in Irvine. This fire was very close to the freeway and, disturbingly enough, set intentionally after the area had been hit by 10 or so fires. It frightens me that some one would deliberately set a fire when resources were already stretched so thin, but I guess that's the point.
When we stopped for lunch, the smoke was quite thick. You could feel the pressure of it in your lungs and head. We were glad to be on the road again, but knew there were still several fires ahead of us. Thankfully none were close enough to cause traffic problems. We arrived safely in Thousand Oaks and saw the damage the wind had done here. It was remarkable. Some streets looked like war zones. If the smoke from the fires wasn't bad enough, our city was dealing with gale force winds that flipped wooden tables (Christie's parents'), destroyed gates (my parents'), and left this across the entrance to our street:
The tree didn't fall, it splintered.
The winds were so fierce, and the tree apparently so weak, that it just splintered all the branches off the trunk. Thankfully, I knew how to get in from the other side of our street (that is a bigger feat than may seem) and we were able to pull into our very own garage after a surreal drive home.
Soon after arriving, we discovered that Carol and Scott had actually been evacuated from their house at 3:00am on Monday. They were able to stay with some friends close by who were not affected by the fires. They were given the OK to return to their house on Tuesday, but chose to wait a little while, only to be told that their area had been re-evacuated. Their home is in a brand new development with open spaces all around, so they would definitely be susceptible to a wildfire.
Now, Carol and Scott have returned to their home. Landscape crews and homeowners have started picking up the pieces. The tree is now a stump. The weather seems to have turned in the firefighters' favor. And it looks like Southern California will survive another bout of wind and fire. Now my parents just need to figure out what to do with their gate that was, literally, blown to bits.
But for many people, rebuilding won't happen for a long time. Nearly 1500 homes have been destroyed, many more damaged, not to mention the businesses and other buildings that have been destroyed. Now they face the real struggle, trying to get their lives back. I can't even imagine the painstaking process they will have to go through.
All of this got me thinking about where we find our security. Is our security found in our homes? Our families? Our jobs? All of these things can be gone in the blink of an eye, or the gust of a particularly dry and vicious wind. We like to think that we are safe and secure in our nice homes with all of our stuff around us, but we really are no more secure than a homeless person sleeping in the gutter. Unfortunately, thousands of people just found that out this week.
In Luke 12:10-21, Jesus tells the story of the rich fool. The rich fool decided that he had so much stuff that he needed to build a huge barn to house it all and then retire happy. But as he finished building this monument to his wealth, God came to him and said,"You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you." (verse 20). How much time and energy do we spend on making ourselves feel secure, only to discover that true security can only be found in the eternal God. Imagine what your life would be like if you spent that same amount of time and energy devoted to God. I know my life would look very different.
And, please, don't forget to pray for the victims of these fires and the firefighters who are completely exhausted, but still valiantly battling the blazes around southern California.
As we checked out of the hotel Monday morning, we were beginning to get a glimpse of the terrible toll these fires were taking. Evacuees were arriving to check in looking tired, wearing breathing masks, and carrying everything that was important to them. We hit the road as soon as possible and met more evacuees on the jammed freeway out of town. Traffic was terrible, everything reeked of smoke, and the sky ahead had an ominous look to it.
As we labored on through the traffic, Christie tried to call her sister, who lives in San Marcos just north of San Diego. We had spent a day with Carol and her husband at their beautiful house on the way down to the conference. How things change in just a few short days. Christie didn't get a hold of Carol, but we assumed the best and kept driving.
Oddly enough, the traffic broke free as we drove under a cloud so dark we had to use our headlights at 10:30 in the morning. Traffic remained relatively clear until we met the next fire in Irvine. This fire was very close to the freeway and, disturbingly enough, set intentionally after the area had been hit by 10 or so fires. It frightens me that some one would deliberately set a fire when resources were already stretched so thin, but I guess that's the point.
When we stopped for lunch, the smoke was quite thick. You could feel the pressure of it in your lungs and head. We were glad to be on the road again, but knew there were still several fires ahead of us. Thankfully none were close enough to cause traffic problems. We arrived safely in Thousand Oaks and saw the damage the wind had done here. It was remarkable. Some streets looked like war zones. If the smoke from the fires wasn't bad enough, our city was dealing with gale force winds that flipped wooden tables (Christie's parents'), destroyed gates (my parents'), and left this across the entrance to our street:
The tree didn't fall, it splintered.
The winds were so fierce, and the tree apparently so weak, that it just splintered all the branches off the trunk. Thankfully, I knew how to get in from the other side of our street (that is a bigger feat than may seem) and we were able to pull into our very own garage after a surreal drive home.
Soon after arriving, we discovered that Carol and Scott had actually been evacuated from their house at 3:00am on Monday. They were able to stay with some friends close by who were not affected by the fires. They were given the OK to return to their house on Tuesday, but chose to wait a little while, only to be told that their area had been re-evacuated. Their home is in a brand new development with open spaces all around, so they would definitely be susceptible to a wildfire.
Now, Carol and Scott have returned to their home. Landscape crews and homeowners have started picking up the pieces. The tree is now a stump. The weather seems to have turned in the firefighters' favor. And it looks like Southern California will survive another bout of wind and fire. Now my parents just need to figure out what to do with their gate that was, literally, blown to bits.
But for many people, rebuilding won't happen for a long time. Nearly 1500 homes have been destroyed, many more damaged, not to mention the businesses and other buildings that have been destroyed. Now they face the real struggle, trying to get their lives back. I can't even imagine the painstaking process they will have to go through.
All of this got me thinking about where we find our security. Is our security found in our homes? Our families? Our jobs? All of these things can be gone in the blink of an eye, or the gust of a particularly dry and vicious wind. We like to think that we are safe and secure in our nice homes with all of our stuff around us, but we really are no more secure than a homeless person sleeping in the gutter. Unfortunately, thousands of people just found that out this week.
In Luke 12:10-21, Jesus tells the story of the rich fool. The rich fool decided that he had so much stuff that he needed to build a huge barn to house it all and then retire happy. But as he finished building this monument to his wealth, God came to him and said,"You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you." (verse 20). How much time and energy do we spend on making ourselves feel secure, only to discover that true security can only be found in the eternal God. Imagine what your life would be like if you spent that same amount of time and energy devoted to God. I know my life would look very different.
And, please, don't forget to pray for the victims of these fires and the firefighters who are completely exhausted, but still valiantly battling the blazes around southern California.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Time
Time is an integral part of our everyday lives. So much so that it is nearly impossible to imagine a world without time. You can sort of start to wrap your head around the idea of eternity, but then you start to think about things not having any sort of sequence and the brain starts going in circles and you eventually giving up before your head explodes. Yet how often do we really think about time. Our perception of time definitely colors our view of the world, but do we really spend much time pondering the idea of time.
We all know how time is measured and most of us a have a pretty good grasp of our schedules, but what about the actual entity time. We think of it as constant, but we feel its elastic tendencies regularly. Seconds can feel like an eternity as we watch imminent disaster, while happy hours seem to flit away before we fully enjoy them.
I think the majority of people are very aware of the quantity of time (seconds, minutes, hours), but rarely the quality of time. We pack our schedules to the brim with more and more appointments and errands. We know the exact amount of time it takes to get to and from work, the store, etc. and plan our lives around how much we can squeeze into each second that isn't otherwise occupied. And if there is anything that interrupts that schedule, we immediately start planning alternatives to get us to our next to-do to minimize any inconvenience.
But I fear that we are scheduling away our very souls. Life is not lived in a day planner. It is lived in the moments that make us stop and think. Those transcendant moments that take our eyes off the here and now and thrust us into the eternal, some times against our bidding, are vital to our being. They are wake up calls that remind us that this is not all there is to life. These are the times when we feel God's presence most keenly.
What would life be like if, every now and then, we threw the calendar out the window? How would it change our perspective if we stopped being so consumed with deadlines, and took note of life going on around us? It would be nice to be able to just press the pause button and stop everything so we can enjoy those moments, but perhaps the loss of time is part of the joy. Perhaps when we stop to enjoy life, we are trusting the Maker of Time to redeem the time others might think we are wasting. I hope this time has been rewarding for you.
We all know how time is measured and most of us a have a pretty good grasp of our schedules, but what about the actual entity time. We think of it as constant, but we feel its elastic tendencies regularly. Seconds can feel like an eternity as we watch imminent disaster, while happy hours seem to flit away before we fully enjoy them.
I think the majority of people are very aware of the quantity of time (seconds, minutes, hours), but rarely the quality of time. We pack our schedules to the brim with more and more appointments and errands. We know the exact amount of time it takes to get to and from work, the store, etc. and plan our lives around how much we can squeeze into each second that isn't otherwise occupied. And if there is anything that interrupts that schedule, we immediately start planning alternatives to get us to our next to-do to minimize any inconvenience.
But I fear that we are scheduling away our very souls. Life is not lived in a day planner. It is lived in the moments that make us stop and think. Those transcendant moments that take our eyes off the here and now and thrust us into the eternal, some times against our bidding, are vital to our being. They are wake up calls that remind us that this is not all there is to life. These are the times when we feel God's presence most keenly.
What would life be like if, every now and then, we threw the calendar out the window? How would it change our perspective if we stopped being so consumed with deadlines, and took note of life going on around us? It would be nice to be able to just press the pause button and stop everything so we can enjoy those moments, but perhaps the loss of time is part of the joy. Perhaps when we stop to enjoy life, we are trusting the Maker of Time to redeem the time others might think we are wasting. I hope this time has been rewarding for you.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Room
There is a room.
It is not like any room you have ever seen. It is enormous and filled with people from every imaginable place. The people mill about, engaging in those activities people engage in: talking, arguing, laughing, playing. Some walk with great purpose and determination, while others stroll about as if there is nothing of import to do.
As you work your way around the room, you notice a great number of people gravitate toward the walls. Out of curiosity, you find yourself drawn along with them. There is nothing specifically interesting about the walls themselves, nothing more than dull concrete slabs, but it is the doors that line them as far as the eye can see.
You decide to walk along the wall, perusing the various doors. They come in every shape and size. Some are very colorful, some very dull, and some have been so gaudily decorated you can barely stand to look at them. Some are large enough for elephants to fit through, others so small that people have to crawl on their hands and knees to enter. All seem to be trying very hard to hide what truly lies behind them.
The doors are not alone. Each door has hawkers expounding on the exceeding value of their door. They wear special clothing that matches the décor of the portal they sell. Some use lofty words; others speak with disgusting vulgarity. All are thoroughly convinced of the rightness of the way they offer. And as people are persuaded, the hawkers usher them through their doors with great fanfare and dignity, though you detect an hint of desperation and futility.
As you continue to observe, you discover the source of your unease. Behind the doors are many things, but none is what the entrants are looking for. One door leads to an endless maze, where thousands of people cry for help. Another leads the new initiate in a circle only to have them exit the same door, now a hawker, proclaiming the glories of their door. Still another opens to reveal nothing more than a blank wall, which people ecstatically walk into, and then speak of great revelations after bouncing off. And, to your horror, one leads to a grisly death for all who enter.
You reach out to grab a new convert before he enters the door of death. You frantically try to talk some sense into him, but you must be garbling your words in your haste. He merely nods vacantly, turns, and walks straight to his doom.
You run from door to door, imploring the hawkers and listeners alike to see the truth of their doors before it is too late. Some listen and wander off to other doors, but most dismiss you. You slowly leave them behind, tears welling in your eyes.
You walk along aimlessly, lost in your grief. You pass by more crowds of people, gazing at doors, mesmerized by the hawkers. You pass by others who preach their own ideas about the doors. Some say that all doors lead to the same place, so it matters not what door you choose. Another encourages people to not worry about the doors, but to have as much fun as they can and the door will find them. One large group stands facing the center of the room, chatting very haughtily. You listen as you walk by and hear them scoff at the silly rabble who still believe in the doors. What nonsense!
You continue to wander until something causes you to stop. Did someone call your name? You look at your surroundings for the first time and see a simple door in front of you. It is different than the other doors, somehow more real. It is not the overdressed or preposterously sized doors that most hawkers offer. Then you notice the quietness. There are people who stand by the door and talk about it to others, but they are not hawkers. You feel peace, rest, and you know that this door is the truth. You look at the others around you and discover that some heeded your warnings and followed you, but are now wary of yet another door.
You step closer and ask about the door. A kindly, older man gently and respectfully answers all your questions. He does not have all the answers, which you find refreshing after listening to the ridiculous theories of the hawkers, but is not afraid of them either.
You have trouble keeping your eyes off the door. It fascinates you. You can’t totally explain why, but it absorbs your attention. It seems to almost be a living thing. It calls to you, beckons you. To your surprise, you find yourself irresistibly drawn step by step to the door.
You touch it.
Oh, the sensation! You feel like you have discovered a missing piece of your soul. You catch the fleeting glimpse of what it is like to be truly whole and loved. Tears well in your eyes again and your knees give out beneath you. Your breath is snatched away and you almost hope it never comes back.
But it does, and you find yourself panting on your knees before the door. You must know what is behind it. You seize the handle and a jolt of electricity runs through your deepest being. You open the door and step through.
It is not like any room you have ever seen. It is enormous and filled with people from every imaginable place. The people mill about, engaging in those activities people engage in: talking, arguing, laughing, playing. Some walk with great purpose and determination, while others stroll about as if there is nothing of import to do.
As you work your way around the room, you notice a great number of people gravitate toward the walls. Out of curiosity, you find yourself drawn along with them. There is nothing specifically interesting about the walls themselves, nothing more than dull concrete slabs, but it is the doors that line them as far as the eye can see.
You decide to walk along the wall, perusing the various doors. They come in every shape and size. Some are very colorful, some very dull, and some have been so gaudily decorated you can barely stand to look at them. Some are large enough for elephants to fit through, others so small that people have to crawl on their hands and knees to enter. All seem to be trying very hard to hide what truly lies behind them.
The doors are not alone. Each door has hawkers expounding on the exceeding value of their door. They wear special clothing that matches the décor of the portal they sell. Some use lofty words; others speak with disgusting vulgarity. All are thoroughly convinced of the rightness of the way they offer. And as people are persuaded, the hawkers usher them through their doors with great fanfare and dignity, though you detect an hint of desperation and futility.
As you continue to observe, you discover the source of your unease. Behind the doors are many things, but none is what the entrants are looking for. One door leads to an endless maze, where thousands of people cry for help. Another leads the new initiate in a circle only to have them exit the same door, now a hawker, proclaiming the glories of their door. Still another opens to reveal nothing more than a blank wall, which people ecstatically walk into, and then speak of great revelations after bouncing off. And, to your horror, one leads to a grisly death for all who enter.
You reach out to grab a new convert before he enters the door of death. You frantically try to talk some sense into him, but you must be garbling your words in your haste. He merely nods vacantly, turns, and walks straight to his doom.
You run from door to door, imploring the hawkers and listeners alike to see the truth of their doors before it is too late. Some listen and wander off to other doors, but most dismiss you. You slowly leave them behind, tears welling in your eyes.
You walk along aimlessly, lost in your grief. You pass by more crowds of people, gazing at doors, mesmerized by the hawkers. You pass by others who preach their own ideas about the doors. Some say that all doors lead to the same place, so it matters not what door you choose. Another encourages people to not worry about the doors, but to have as much fun as they can and the door will find them. One large group stands facing the center of the room, chatting very haughtily. You listen as you walk by and hear them scoff at the silly rabble who still believe in the doors. What nonsense!
You continue to wander until something causes you to stop. Did someone call your name? You look at your surroundings for the first time and see a simple door in front of you. It is different than the other doors, somehow more real. It is not the overdressed or preposterously sized doors that most hawkers offer. Then you notice the quietness. There are people who stand by the door and talk about it to others, but they are not hawkers. You feel peace, rest, and you know that this door is the truth. You look at the others around you and discover that some heeded your warnings and followed you, but are now wary of yet another door.
You step closer and ask about the door. A kindly, older man gently and respectfully answers all your questions. He does not have all the answers, which you find refreshing after listening to the ridiculous theories of the hawkers, but is not afraid of them either.
You have trouble keeping your eyes off the door. It fascinates you. You can’t totally explain why, but it absorbs your attention. It seems to almost be a living thing. It calls to you, beckons you. To your surprise, you find yourself irresistibly drawn step by step to the door.
You touch it.
Oh, the sensation! You feel like you have discovered a missing piece of your soul. You catch the fleeting glimpse of what it is like to be truly whole and loved. Tears well in your eyes again and your knees give out beneath you. Your breath is snatched away and you almost hope it never comes back.
But it does, and you find yourself panting on your knees before the door. You must know what is behind it. You seize the handle and a jolt of electricity runs through your deepest being. You open the door and step through.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Things 'n' Stuff
Yesterday, Christie and I were up at church with the boys. As we were heading out to the car to leave, I saw what appeared to be a large rock sitting on top of our car. That seemed rather odd to me, and as we approached we noticed some glass all over the place. Again, something seemed amiss. As I stepped around the driver's side I discovered that the window was missing, and there was a large rock sitting in the center console, with shards of broken glass strewn all over. Some one had broken into our car. As I looked closer, I discovered that they had tried multiple times to break all three windows on that side by throwing rocks at them. Sadly, they were not very good at this and dented up the whole side of the car. Once they got fed up, they took a rock about the size of a person's head and smashed through the driver's window. Once inside they took out the change drawer and rifled through the glove compartment. Unfortunately for them, all this hard work had yielded them at most a couple dollars in change.
At first, I was mostly just shocked. My window was gone. My car was dented and filled with broken glass. And all this for a handful of change. I laughed at the stupidity of breaking into the car of a youth pastor with a "Twins on Board" sign in the window. Obviously, they don't know what a pastor's salary is like, or have children.
As we began to take hold of the situation, we realized we would have to call the police and should try to disturb the scene as little as possible. I asked our music pastor, John, to call the police while I got whatever the boys would need and called my mom to come get Christie and the boys while I waited for the police.
As I waited with John and talked with a few others, I found something strange. Other people seemed more upset about it than I was. Granted, I hadn't slept much the night before (did I mention the twins?), but still, I felt more saddened and confused. Saddened because the people who had done it were so desperate for something (money, thrill, I'm not totally sure) that they were willing to risk jail time for a handful of change. Saddened that, while they were on church grounds, their thoughts were on crime and destruction, not God. Saddened by the total disregard for another's property. My confusion stemmed from the question of why. Why do this? What's the point? There was nothing of value lying in plain view, and ultimately for them, nothing of value whatsoever, so why bother? My car was certainly not the nicest, nor the newest, but perhaps the easiest, being further from the building than the rest.
The officer who took the report and others were just blown away by the brazen act. They broke in during the middle of the day, and were not exactly efficient and quick. While things are pretty quiet right now, there is still regular traffic through the parking lot. Some were very angry about it, which surprised me, because I wasn't. I'm not totally sure why, but I am still not angry. Sure, dealing with insurance and everything is going to be a pain, and my day was quite disrupted yesterday, but I'm still not angry.
But then again, why should I be? It's just a car. Nothing of significance was taken. Christie and the boys are fine. We are obsessed with stuff, possessions, property. But the Bible says that everything belongs to God and what we have is just a gift given to us to to glorify God. Maybe this was a wake up call for me. Maybe I have been putting too much energy and effort into my stuff. Maybe we don't need that brand new SUV we've been dreaming about. Maybe we need to stop worrying so much about the things we own, and just trust that God will provide for our needs.
One thing that sticks out to me was a comment from a church member who happened to drive by as we were waiting for the police. He suggested that maybe the police could get some fingerprints (they didn't bother) and if these guys had been in trouble before, they could bring them to justice. "That would feel good," he said as he left. Yes, it would be good if they didn't get away with the crime, but wouldn't it be better for them to be brought to grace and forgiveness?
At first, I was mostly just shocked. My window was gone. My car was dented and filled with broken glass. And all this for a handful of change. I laughed at the stupidity of breaking into the car of a youth pastor with a "Twins on Board" sign in the window. Obviously, they don't know what a pastor's salary is like, or have children.
As we began to take hold of the situation, we realized we would have to call the police and should try to disturb the scene as little as possible. I asked our music pastor, John, to call the police while I got whatever the boys would need and called my mom to come get Christie and the boys while I waited for the police.
As I waited with John and talked with a few others, I found something strange. Other people seemed more upset about it than I was. Granted, I hadn't slept much the night before (did I mention the twins?), but still, I felt more saddened and confused. Saddened because the people who had done it were so desperate for something (money, thrill, I'm not totally sure) that they were willing to risk jail time for a handful of change. Saddened that, while they were on church grounds, their thoughts were on crime and destruction, not God. Saddened by the total disregard for another's property. My confusion stemmed from the question of why. Why do this? What's the point? There was nothing of value lying in plain view, and ultimately for them, nothing of value whatsoever, so why bother? My car was certainly not the nicest, nor the newest, but perhaps the easiest, being further from the building than the rest.
The officer who took the report and others were just blown away by the brazen act. They broke in during the middle of the day, and were not exactly efficient and quick. While things are pretty quiet right now, there is still regular traffic through the parking lot. Some were very angry about it, which surprised me, because I wasn't. I'm not totally sure why, but I am still not angry. Sure, dealing with insurance and everything is going to be a pain, and my day was quite disrupted yesterday, but I'm still not angry.
But then again, why should I be? It's just a car. Nothing of significance was taken. Christie and the boys are fine. We are obsessed with stuff, possessions, property. But the Bible says that everything belongs to God and what we have is just a gift given to us to to glorify God. Maybe this was a wake up call for me. Maybe I have been putting too much energy and effort into my stuff. Maybe we don't need that brand new SUV we've been dreaming about. Maybe we need to stop worrying so much about the things we own, and just trust that God will provide for our needs.
One thing that sticks out to me was a comment from a church member who happened to drive by as we were waiting for the police. He suggested that maybe the police could get some fingerprints (they didn't bother) and if these guys had been in trouble before, they could bring them to justice. "That would feel good," he said as he left. Yes, it would be good if they didn't get away with the crime, but wouldn't it be better for them to be brought to grace and forgiveness?
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
A Brief Manifesto
I figured it would be good to establish why I finally decided to create a blog. The first thing to understand is why I have been so hesitant to even start blogging to begin with. There is a commercial that came out a few years ago, that I absolutely abhorred. It featured a professor telling his writing class the minute likelihood of any of them ever being published. To which a student stood and began to declare that with online publishing, we can all become published authors and blah, blah, blah. What bothered me was the question of whether everyone is worthy of becoming a published author. I never want to perpetuate the mindless drivel that pollutes much of the internet, prattling on about the inane details of their bland lives, boring everyone into a stupor. Please don't misunderstand me. I have many friends and family members whose blogs I visit regularly, and thoroughly enjoy. But that is because they are good writers, and people whose lives are connected to mine.
So why create a blog if I have such disdain for much of the blogging community? Over the past few months, I have felt a growing need to express myself in new ways, to create new avenues of discussion, and a safe place to ask questions. I have been in ministry, paid and volunteer, for more than 10 years now and have discovered the value of questions. So often we try to teach by telling people what they should think or know, but as I have watched people grow (or not) over the last 10 years, the biggest influence I see is questions. The students who ask questions grow. Those who don't often get stuck and fall away. So I wanted to create a blog where I can share observations of life, God, ministry, etc. and ask questions. The questions may not have answers, but I am willing to let them, as long as the question is out there and being pondered.
Now, for the readers, I have a simple request. If you have any feedback, please give it. Let me know if you think I am way off base, or if you agree, or if you have more questions. Also, I never want this blog to become a rant. I despise the blogs that just complain about the world and have no ideas how things can be better. There is no benefit to railing against something with no positive input. It just makes people angry. So please be sure to keep me accountable to my own standard and warn me if I ever have a rant post.
Finally, I hope my writing spurs some thoughts and ideas that are new and interesting. My wish is that through my words and questions, I can encourage others to see things they have never seen before. Enjoy!
So why create a blog if I have such disdain for much of the blogging community? Over the past few months, I have felt a growing need to express myself in new ways, to create new avenues of discussion, and a safe place to ask questions. I have been in ministry, paid and volunteer, for more than 10 years now and have discovered the value of questions. So often we try to teach by telling people what they should think or know, but as I have watched people grow (or not) over the last 10 years, the biggest influence I see is questions. The students who ask questions grow. Those who don't often get stuck and fall away. So I wanted to create a blog where I can share observations of life, God, ministry, etc. and ask questions. The questions may not have answers, but I am willing to let them, as long as the question is out there and being pondered.
Now, for the readers, I have a simple request. If you have any feedback, please give it. Let me know if you think I am way off base, or if you agree, or if you have more questions. Also, I never want this blog to become a rant. I despise the blogs that just complain about the world and have no ideas how things can be better. There is no benefit to railing against something with no positive input. It just makes people angry. So please be sure to keep me accountable to my own standard and warn me if I ever have a rant post.
Finally, I hope my writing spurs some thoughts and ideas that are new and interesting. My wish is that through my words and questions, I can encourage others to see things they have never seen before. Enjoy!
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