The physics of experiencing life

When shuttles return from the moon re-entry involves screaming through the flaming heat of the atmosphere. While coming home from Namibia isn't quite that bad, sometimes it seems like it. Anybody who's travelled cross-culturally knows what it's like to come home and experience the tension of not wanting to fall back into everyday life here but keep some of the tendencies and habits you learned in other places. For me it was walking.

Our last night in Arandis the pastor's daughter, Pearl, was hanging out at our house and so she wouldn't have to walk back home alone in the dark, a group of us walked her home. We walked the long way around, down the long, quiet road on the outskirts of town where there are houses on one side and nothing but desert as far as you can see on the other. The lights from the town aren't as bright on that road so the view of the stars is amazing. You can even see the Milky Way. I don't know whether it was short legs or just not wanting to go home, but she kept saying, "You're walking too fast." I'd hardly realized until she said it that half our group was way ahead and the rest of us were struggling to slow down enough to walk with her. It got me thinking how in America we're all about getting there. We're all about accomplishing the goal. The purpose of our outing was to walk her home and come back, we just set a pace to get it done without a second thought. But what Pearl understood, we totally missed. It didn't have anything to do with our velocity, but everything to do with our perspective. For her it was a last chance to spend time with these people she'd fallen in love with who would be leaving the next morning. She knew when we reached her house it'd be over. She was all about the walk, not the destination, so she kept reminding us, "Walk slower."

On our way home we made it all the way to Paris without a snag, then when we were about to board our last plane for the final leg home they delayed our flight another 10 hours. So we went about switching gates and going through security...again, and getting some food. We got online to update the blog and let people send messages home. But 10 hours is still a long time and we were all tired and emotionally exhausted, so people started getting frustrated and bored. Now I'm a pretty laid back guy and I'm in no hurry to get home, there's nobody waiting for me at the airport except the knowledge that I'll have to say goodbye to all the people I've grown so close to during the last two weeks, so I was getting a little frustrated that everyone was wasting away this last opportunity just being bored and complaining. I eventually dropped some comments to some different people in the least harsh way I could muster, and I think they got my drift. But it just reminded me of how often we go through life waiting instead of living.

So yesterday morning I went for a walk. I never go for morning walks in America, but in Africa it's not uncommon. I thought about how much I live from one scheduled activity to the next and about how much I miss in between. I imagined what it would be like to live in the 'in betweens' instead of in the schedule. I looked up from the ground and glanced around. I hadn't realized how much I was missing around me as I was watching where I would make my next step. I took a deep breath, and took my next step...just a little slower.

Take six

Other than my fam, I think my longest standing relationship is God. I don't really keep up with any of my grade school friends, and I first met God before I came to Christ's Church so He even beats them out. And I must say I'm more confident now than ever that He is completely trustworthy, totally sovereign, and loves me more than anything. It's wild being in relationship with someone who has absolutely no faults, because I have nothing to relate it to; it's foreign to me, but that's the reality of it. It's wild feeling like I'm wrapped up in the hugmongous arms of God. It feels safe. Fear looses all it's power. And that makes me smile.

Less than 48 hours and I'm off once again to one of my favorite places on earth, Namibia, Africa. We're gone June 25th through July 12th (no that doesn't mean you can come vandalize my house!!!) with 18 people, 36 bags, 3 guitars, and a partrige and a pear tree. But to tell the truth, I've been ready to go for most of the week. Not actually ready to go, but ready to be there. All the sights, and smells, and tastes come flooding back and I know it's time to go. So I invite you to join us, not on the airplane, but on the blogsite. Check out our team blogsite at...

www.namibia2007.blogspot.com
and follow all the action for yourself. We'll post pics and videos, tell stories of what's going on, and best of all, you can leave me little comments that I'll get to read while we're there. But most of all we'd love your prayers, for my teammates, for the people we'll minister to, and for me to be bold and open to learn what God has for me. Thanks for all your support. Signing off, for the next 3 weeks (not like I actually write that often anyway).

Lately I've been reading in Isaiah and have found it quite enjoyable. That's kind of odd I think, because Isaiah is condemning Israel and telling them about this nasty stuff that God's going to do to them. But the cool part is, interspersed in all that is a great deal of the character of God. Like when he's speaking of God's power he uses great metaphors of things that just ooze power, things we can't control that hold some mystery in them, like fierce storms and overwhelming tsunamis.

But then in the midst of all the destructive talk, Isaiah throws in a piece about God's wisdom and mercy. I'm not much of a farmer so some of the horticultural metaphors used in the Bible aren't quite as familiar, but I think I managed to pick up some of this one. He says the farmer doesn't just tear up the ground with His plow forever. No, he just does it to prepare for the seed. Likewise the baker doesn't crush the grain forever, but just enough to make some bread out of it. In the same way, God doesn't pulverize and smite us forever. Sure He allows pain and suffering, but it's temporary. It tenderizes us so He can sow into our lives. We must allow His wisdom and sovereignty to rule in our troubles. Afterall, where do you think the farmer and the baker learned it from?

"Give ear and hear my voice; Listen and hear my words.
Does the farmer plow continually to plant seed?
Does he continually turn and harrow the ground?
Does he not level its surface and sow dill and scatter cummin
And plant wheat in rows, barley in its place and rye within its area?
For his God instructs and teaches him properly.

Grain for bread is crushed; Indeed, he does not continue to thresh it forever. Because the wheel of his cart and his horses eventually damage it, He does not thresh it longer." ~Isaiah 28:24-26, 28

The wages of work is death

So lately I've been working tirelessly on a recording project to help raise money for our upcoming Namibia trip and it's gotten me thinking about the value of work. In the end people will listen to the CD for a while but eventually it'll end up in the yard sale pile. The songs will go out of style and new songs will take their place. Eventually the glory of that CD will pass away, but is that why I work?

Every year at this time we have a Graduation Banquet celebrating another year done, saying goodbye to all our seniors, and welcoming the incoming freshmen. For the presentation, I put hours into setting up a little slideshow of pictures reviewing the year and of the seniors through the years. I show the video once at the banquet, then it quickly finds itself buried in an archive file, forgotten about for years to come. I've made so many videos for so many occasions through the years that all have the same fate. Their glory days fade quickly, but is that why I work?

All our work fades away. I spent the last hour scrubbing the bathroom, only for it to get dirty again. I spend hours mowing the lawn, but it grows back. I cook a meal, wash dishes, take the trash out, knowing that I'll do it all again tomorrow. So why do we work if it doesn't last?

Well some of those last illustrations seem obvious for health reasons and such, but I think there are lasting things about the work we do, and I mean more than just a paycheck at the end of the week. For instance, sometimes I work to show love to people. Sometimes my work leaves a lasting impression, like the CD. Who knows what somebody might take away or how God might speak into someone's life by listening to those songs. Sometimes it's for the pleasure in a job well done, or using a clean shower.

Maybe the temporary nature of our work is meant to remind us that this is not all there is. In this world, things break and deteriorate but it won't always be this way. One day everything will be healed, never to hurt again. By working we mimic God by redeeming the broken, filthy, useless things of this world. His glory can shine through our work, so in the end all is not worthless. It may only be like a drop in a pond, but every drop leaves ripples.

Our Deepest Fear

Part of this poem was quoted in a movie I saw yesterday. Unfortunately, they left out the words that give it true meaning, the words about our identity as children of God. I thought I'd share the whole thing with you here.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." ~Marianne Williamson