Ponderings, Wanderings, and Wonderings

2007-10-02T10:00:00.001-07:00

NOTE: THIS BLOG HAS MOVED, AND WILL NOT BUT UPDATED IN THE FUTURE. PLEASE VISIT THE NEW ADDRESS AT:

afireinmybones.blogspot.com

2007-09-09T15:03:00.000-07:00

Μακροθυμια (makrothumia)

Often translated "patience," the word most literally means long-suffering. Or, if you notice the first part of the word, μακρο (macro), you will recognize its English cognate: macro, as in large or extreme.

This is different from endurance (΄υπομενη), which is something like "super-staying," almost like remaining in one place while someone tries to move you.

God's gift of long-suffering means that even in the most difficult of circumstances and in the midst of immense pain, we are empowered by the Spirit (of which this gift is a Fruit) to withstand that pain...

So now, having taken this knowledge to heart, I repent.

Marines

2007-09-07T21:16:00.000-07:00

NOTE: This is raw and unedited; I dare not expect most to understand it, and even fewer to give heed to its content. If this is your first encounter with my ramblings, I suggest you skip ahead to something more relevant and polished.

At first I couldn't figure out why it bothered me so much that some Marines from my unit found out about these scribblings. And I can only speculate as to how this came about. "Why write what you don't want someone to read?"

I suppose it is this, at least in part: I try to put so little of myself into this place, this group, this Corps, because I'm so certain that they will CRUSH whatever they get their hands on. And this is valid, for such people are required for such times and such places. “Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” And so I write. But into my writing I POUR MYSELF because I know that the people back home (for whom this page is originally intended), the few who take the time to read this, anyway, will at the very least remain silent out of courtesy and discretion. The guys out here, however, are more inclined to view my transparency as a weakness, a chink in my armor, a throat protector unbuttoned on my flak (or an exposed "quick release").

Gentlemen, believe as you will. We differ in many ways, you and I; and in many ways we are the same. But I LOVE to write, to teach, to train, to preach, and to share from my experiences: both from my successes which bring much joy, and from my failures which have brought me so much pain. And I believe this gift benefits others. It is what I was created to do, what I was designed to do, and it is what I DESIRE to do with all the years of my life to the GLORY OF MY GOD.

"But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams."
--W.B. Yeats

Pannikin' - Physical Expressions of More Significant Things...

2007-09-03T17:29:00.000-07:00

NOTE: If you take note of the intentional use of indentation / formatting, it should make your experience of this scribbling much easier to organize intellectually (even though it was written in a single stream of consciousness)

So I’m driving down the PCH today, partially because my laptop was so dead Google maps wouldn’t display, and partially because someone once told me how enjoyable it was to do so. And I’ve got this concept running through my head… all of a sudden I see this place on the side of the road. My friend bought me a shirt from this place 4 years ago or so, and I still have it and its one of my softest t-shirts (but still thick – you know the kind I’m talking about). I turn in and begin marveling at this place, walking around it with astonishment. Pannikin’ is doubtless one of the coolest coffee shops I’ve ever seen. And it reminds me of this old friend of mine to a T! AMAZING coffee with a ting of spice in the drinks, chairs on the lawn, a cute little catch phrase written outside on a signboard, scarves and books and all kinds of crazy coffee connoisseur gadgets rounding the walls. The place smells of gourmet liquid energy! No place, I think, has ever captured her essence (as I remember it from way back when) more…

So that concept I was pondering dangerously while NOT focusing on the road? Someone asked me what the women are like here in California. My initial response was, “Well, let’s just say I don’t want to be a pastor out here… ‘cus it’d be… distracting, to say the least.” But I’m driving down the road and for some reason I’m finding it quite easy to ignore all of these scantily clad women. I’m being honest here, because I’ve got no one to impress, and if you think I’m some sick pervert then you should look around at the men in your life. Fathers, brothers, sons, boyfriends, friends, etc. We are all distracted by skin. It’s the nature of who we are, at least on a very basic level. But for some reason, ESPECIALLY today, its not a distraction at all. And I started to wonder why.

I just returned from 6 days on leave back in Texas, and I showed up back out in California with a bit of anxiety and some frustration to match. But last night I was blessed to enjoy the company of some other believers from around her. What’s the connection? I’ve recently RE-encountered the women in my life to who mean a great deal to me.

They don’t carry such weight in my heart, they don’t play such important roles in my life because they look good in bathing suits. Don’t get me wrong, some of my dearest friends happen to be some very attractive young women, but this is merely incidental. Now certainly, you can say I wouldn’t have met them had I thought they were mutants, the bane of society. Whatever. You miss the point.

People asked me how I could be so depressed recently in Southern California (SoCal). “It’s so gorgeous out there… and the beach, the architecture, the cars (someone knows me well)… depression doesn’t make any sense.” And the beaches in Texas? NOTHING compared to the coastline out here. Why then do I delight in the thought of TX, and so often dread my time in California?

**It is not the physical world in which I was designed to delight. I was driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, enjoying the amazing breeze, watching the waves crash in on themselves (and on the surfers), smelling the strong, salty, ocean air, and experiencing the sun’s warmth upon my face… and all I could think about was how much I love my home. See, I can’t relate to the mountains, and I can’t share my heart with the sea in any meaningful way which would solicit a legitimate response. I can’t hear the sufferings of the breeze or comfort the tide when it is at it’s lowest. I was created for - I was designed for relationships with the people God has given me in my life. The stars will never feel the joy of salvation, and I won’t ever see them baptized into my kinship like blood never can be. These things are simply material – monistic expressions of reality which pale in comparison to the complexity of the human body, which itself only reflects the complexity of the soul like a piano reflects an entire orchestral symphony after it has been transposed to the eighty-eight keys available (C. S. Lewis’ Transposition, is largely responsible for this insight).

It is not the female body in which I delight. It is the feminine persona, intricately and delicately knit by God, in part to show me a facet of Himself which my testosterone clouded mind could never grasp without those lovely women in my life. (And hopefully they also learn something of His character from me, but such confessions of my shortcomings shan’t be scribed here today.)

I needn’t ogle at the body of a woman in a bathing suit, because that isn’t the aspect of my eventual but as yet undiscovered wife which will bring joy and divine instruction to my heart. My friends aren’t my friends because they look good. My friends are my friends, my sisters my sisters and my brothers my brothers, because they love me and care for me and we RELATE to one another. When a brother encourages me while I struggle through temptation in VA; when a girl decides to wear something more modest; when they pray for me, and they comfort me, and they think of me, and they text or call or Facebook me for no apparent reason. These are the times in which they FAR surpass the physical realm of in which we relate (and it is also why our degree of proximity does not necessarily reflect our degree of intimacy – read my description of Asa I’s friendship from my last post for clarification and exemplification on this).

And in this specific example, my purity is aided by my love for the Ladies in my life because knowing them makes me a better person, a better man, a better father and husband one day, and a better disciple of The Cross of Christ. Because when a women allows, and sometimes FORCES the men in her life to see her for all that she is, בת המל אלין, bat-hamelek elyon, a daughter of The King Most High, she reduces my heart’s ability and reprobate inclination to objectify her as anything less. Women, strive to be that Princess. Men, strive to settle for nothing less!!! (Aside: “Charm [Favor before men] is deceptive and beauty [via adornments] is vain” – meaning simply that these are not bad in themselves, but abhorrent if they are a woman’s ONLY claim to True Beauty. Don’t worry, a commentary explaining this is in the works!)

This place, this coffee shop. It isn’t amazing because it itself has some intrinsic quality which causes its patrons to experience joy and intimacy and laughter. It is great to me because it reminds me of a very old and very dear friend with whom I no longer talk. And I would venture to say the same is probably largely true of many or most of the others here. They undoubtedly are here secondarily for the caffeinated goodness, and primarily for the company they are in. Whether it be a group of friends at the table, a girl they fancy next to them, whatever. And some are, like me, alone. They read books or ponder quietly or pour over laptops (just as I am doing) or legal pads or journals. And certainly there are some exceptions here today… but what is a journal or a personal quiet pondering if not introspection: a conversation with and an investigation into one’s own self. And what is a book if not a diatribe with the far off or else corporeally passed author, a sharing via letters instead of sounds, scripts instead of a spoken tongue.

Coffee with Jesus

2007-09-02T19:32:00.000-07:00

DISCLAIMER: I am aware that I make certain assumptions with which non-believers, and some Protestants, cannot subscribe. Aware, but uncaring; It is NOT a question of ignorance, but apathy.

WARNING: VERY SCATTERED AND DEFINITELY A PRODUCT OF THE MIND OF A MAN WHO HAS NOT PREACHED THE TRUTH WHICH GOD HAS LAIN ON HIS HEART IN FAR TOO LONG!!!

When I'm in California I simply live for the Sundays. Many people say they live for Friday, or for Saturday, or for Mondays (as is the case of the "workaholic") and thus of course reflects their passions and the proclivities. So, too, is the case with me. I'm not saying that I live for Sundays to sound exceptionally pious or righteous in my pursuit of God. Not at all.

In fact, Sunday represents for me a few of the things I crave the most: for community, for solitude, and for an opportunity to grow silent and encounter the Holy.

Community and Solitude? Aren't these two mutually exclusive? On the contrary - each is necessary for the other to prosper, to flourish. Someone said, "the loneliest place any man can be is a room full of people." If Someone didn't say that already, then mark today in your bookmarks: for now I have. Back to the point. I have recently been confronted by my greatest weakness, my greatest vulnerability: Loneliness. I was blessed my last semester at UMHB to live with 4 of the greatest men I know and the 4 greatest friends I have ever had.

A Brief Aside: skip ahead if you know my roommates or already understand my point via the lens of your own experience.
-Asa and I can not see each other for months at a time and get together and all of a sudden he has me preaching my heart out ( and he has the patience and endurance to let me pour my heart out and actually HEAR what I have said and respond with concepts and application that only hurl bricks of c4 into the already pyrotechnically astounding conflagration).
-Zach takes me from the dullest of moods and most complacent of modes and flips a switch which lights the room, mysteriously illuminating all the opportunities for mischief like strobe lights through 17B Night Vision Goggles.
-Tim's heart so often matches my own its disturbing. One minute we're griping about the pains in each of our lives, the next minute we're talking about the same things and accidentally realizing our own shortcomings in each situation. We walk away with new perspectives and often a new awareness of the steps needed to right or transgressions.
-Travis and I had a great deal of trouble actually working out an accountability system that worked... and now we've found a way to correct that little problem. And easily corrected it is because Travis has a heart that is willing to suffer alongside and/or for the benefit of a brother. He has been invaluable in my education and my growth, as have all my guys.

And I wasted that time.

Now on Active Duty I am, by contrast, surrounded by people who's entire paradigm is so often contrary to my own. The Marine Corps advertises a "brotherhood, a bond, closer than any you've ever felt. A bond like you've never imagined." And certainly, it does offer an bond closer than many in our segmented, individualistic society have ever experienced. But for a man who has experienced the bond that can only be found in the walls of the church, built on the foundation of a common bond in Christ, and maintained only in a atmosphere of honesty, of love, of compassion (literally, the suffering alongside another), and of shared experience (which is why long distance relationships, outside of the few who are bonded tightly enough by Christ, so often fail).

All that to get to this simple point: I have recently reaching a place in my life in which loneliness has reached levels only matched by a point in my life when I held a blade to my wrist, clinging only to the thought that funerals were too expensive for my family to manage at the time. Were it not for the presence of Christ in my life now I would have already spun into a whirlpool of depressions so deep all the Prozac in the world couldn't be fashioned into a rope which which I could be exhumed (intentional diction is utilized here).

In our loneliness, when we lack community, solitude becomes such an unbearable experience that even when we attempt to find and experience solitudes joys we become lost in what goes on around us. We begin looking around for anyone who will rescue us from it. That may come in the form of finding one person and latching on to them, calling or text messaging them incessantly, facebook/myspace stalking them, and Googling their name at all hours of the night. It may present itself in our clinging to a trend or a tradition or a group (even one not normally attractive to us). For me, it took the route of unusual activities. For the first time in my life, I found myself heading out to bars just to meet people - and the only way to meet people is to have a drink and buy a drink (or have one bought for you, hint hint). For the record, I have since taken a fast regarding alcohol, and it is going absolutely SWIMMINGLY! I'll be happy to discuss this another time.

When we lack solitude, we can scarcely participate in true community. When we don't take the time or put the effort into developing and processing on our own, we can offer little or nothing of substance to the group. And then we tend to the errors I have mentioned previously: co-dependence, and the like. Or, of course, there is unhealthy seclusion, in which we forsake the meeting together with unbelievers.

Community is a hot topic among todays Christians, especially at the collegiate level. Many church-goers have become frustrated and disillusioned with the Southern caricature of a woman with enormous, ice cream shaped hair and a smile which is clearly supported by wires attached to a retainer asking with that East Texas accent questions which both she and her partner know will result in Sophisticated (look up this word with reference to Sophistry), quip remarks. Let me paint for you the basic script offered to Southern pastor's wife, to which she may add her own "pieces of flair." In fact, I'll even translate it parenthetically.

Pastorette Jo-Ellen (no offence) "Why hello, brother Jeffrey. How are you this lovely Sundie [which, by the way, is neither a word, nor a day of the week!] mornin'?" (Hello. You know what to do - I've got a lot of people to greet.)

Parishioner "Oh, you know me! Standing strong in the grace of the Lord!" (For the tenth time, my name is Jeff. And I'm miserable. What part of wife, kid, and divorce don't you get?)

"Good to hear! Good to hear! Enjoy the service and don't forget: it's high tithe Sundie!" (Your life sucks, but thanks for playing by the rules! The organist is out sick, and I need to get my hair done this week)

"Will do, Jo-Ellen! Don't worry, I've got my checkbook today!" (Good to hear? Did you even HEAR me at all? Enjoy the service? How can I sleep on these pews?! And why would I give an offering? I'd rather spend the money on one of those fold-out foam bleacher pads that matches my Bible cover. Three times I've come to see your husband this week and three times he's been playing golf with a "parishioner in need" with a +3 handicap!)

An exaggeration? Perhaps. But the earth was the ONLY thing created ex nihilo! This is NOT what we crave, and it is NOT what the church was designed to offer.

But even halfway across the country, despite the absence of my Pastors: Dave, Will, Tim, and Kyle, and my Brothers: Ace, Z$, Travy, and QT (Tim) the Aggie, I am able to experience a great measure of community. The Rock San Diego offers a great deal to its visitors, as is evidenced by Miles McPherson's invitation to each and every individual guest in the service to introduce themselves personally to him - right there as part of the service!

My summation of expression, though verbose and convoluted by rhetoric, is this: Hard times come wherever you are and whenever they will, regardless of preparedness. The Bible teaches that the Woman of God "dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong," (Proverbs 31.17, ESV). What does this have to do with you? If you look this up in the NIV, NLT, or the Message I swear I will personally slap you the first chance I get... The term "dresses," sometimes thought to simply mean "prepares," is full of meaning. Literally, it means "girds up [her] loins." Its a term that refers to the suspension of one's garments in a way that allows one for free movement, most commonly for WAR. Why is this significant? Because this woman's work is important, and it is her usual role (I am NOT being a sexist here - for my scribblings found elsewhere I cannot vouch). And it is EXTREMELY UNLIKELY that she will EVER have to go into combat. But the picture here is clear: she being made ready in mundane tasks to do whatever task, however unlikely, she may be called to do.
You and I must "gird up our loins" (Nahum 2.1, etc.) and discover and treasure both (1)the time we have in close proximity with those who make us strong and (2) the time we have in solitude, listening to voice of God like the prophets in the wilderness (and Jesus in Matthew 4, for that matter), committing to memory the word of God (Ps 119.9-16), and EXPERIENCING Testimony building incidents which occur for the edification of the community to which we belong.