Remember This

Last weekend was, of course, Easter Weekend.  My church always has extra services for Christmas and Easter and since my family is close and my plans are simple, I always sign up to volunteer for multiple services. This summer marks four years since I started volunteering with Summit and I've enjoyed it a lot and grown as a person as I twist knobs, click slides, and move sliders.

On top of the usual logistical announcements, one of our staff leaders called us to a few simple things as we served this Easter.  First, he called us to take one moment, pause, and breathe.  To look around and notice what God was doing around us and that we got to take part in. 

Let me set a perspective – my church is very large and the kids ministry is proportionately well-populated.  Our room is the largest of the elementary-age group and my service (largest of the usual four) sees 220-270 kids in my room most weekends.  To brace for the increased crowd at Christmas and Easter, everything takes an extra step and half up in intensity from its usual focus.  Usually, two teams alternate weeks, but both teams are scheduled for holidays.  Special teachings and games are planned, the church makes sure us volunteers are well fed (and usually hyped up on sugar), and “all hands on deck” becomes the general air.  Instead of the usual 600ish kids across all services, we saw likely over 1000 kids in our room this weekend.  Each service had more leaders than I usually see, which helped the kid-teacher ratio stay low.

In the midst of the rush of “kids in, kids leaving”, Easter candy sugar highs, flying Easter eggs, and trying to make sure nobody dies to errant basketballs, sometimes it's easy to miss sight of the fact that those thousand kids are learning that God loves them and doesn't hurt them.  This weekend, they were learning that anyone can follow Jesus and even if we make mistakes like Peter did, denying that he had anything to do with Jesus, it's still possible to turn around, change our lives, and go back towards God.  That's a steep lesson even as an adult – realizing that there's no way that we could mess up bad enough to hurt our standing with God or to make it impossible for Him to fix all of our shortcomings.

What a calling and an opportunity to love someone else's kids for an hour or two!  To be honest, I'm unabashedly Tech Team, so I usually hang out in my little sound booth, make the big wheels roll, and run interference between teachers and annoyances like wrong slides and recalcitrant microphones.  Nonetheless, when I do what I do best (techy things), I also get to see other people do what they do best (love kids and make them feel valued).  And that's pretty amazing.

Sadly, this staff worker is leaving our room at the end of the summer to pursue a different ministry opportunity.  It sounds super exciting and like it's God's will, but he's still leaving both our church and the state, which is sad.  A truth he's been focusing on lately is that he has a finite yet unknown number of weekends left with us.  His wife reminds him to “stop and soak it in.  Soak in the moments where you see God working.”  He may be leaving but what about any of the the rest of us?  How many more times would we get to participate in touching little lives and pointing them at God? 

One of my leaders brought this home to me personally by pointing out that since I'm transitioning to Production Team in the big auditorium, this Easter was very likely my last regular weekend in Summit.  I was pretty tickled that for whatever reason, I didn't even have to fight with anyone for my seat as I got permanently marked in as “tech” for all services.  It's not that I don't want to share.  It's more that I have comparative advantage for tech and comparative disadvantage for being social in a group of strangers, no matter the age.  It was weird to think that after years of the same countdowns and the same worship songs, I wouldn't be hearing them many more times.  How I feel about the transition is an entirely different blog entry, but the poignancy of leaving the ministry that's been home ever since my last big life shift pervaded my volunteer time.  Thus I strove to do what Stephen said and participate fully in all the moments I saw and thank God for them.  I even made a list so I could share them, even though I think the whole list will be “guess you just had to be there”.

Remember This.  How many moments do you have left?  Are you making the best of every one, or just watching them trail away?

Some moments I lingered in this week:

- I love my church – where else could I hear OK Go, AWOLNATION, and “Uptown Funk” from stage in the space of an hour?  As Jim said, “I bet no other church is doing this song for Easter today.”

- Watching the hearing-impaired brother and sister across the room have their own conversation during the teaching.  At first I thought he was interpreting for her which really floored me.  Nevertheless, it was obvious that they were a team in a big world.

- This weekend, I rode Toothless, which my friends unaffectionately call “the nerd bike”.  Two out of two days, though, someone wanted to talk to me about about some feature of my bike.  My first reaction is “go away, I'm on my way somewhere”, but then I realized it was an amusing occasion worth relaxing into.  FYI, discussing the merits of various bikes one stoplight at a time through earplugs and a helmet is hard.

- I'm going to miss the straight unadulterated enthusiasm of the kids and leaders for worship.  In my room, the sound system is pretty limited so I usually have the video/music turned up all the way and it still often gets drowned out.  So cool.

- I'm amazed by the heart that every Circle of Friends (special needs) volunteer has.  Even in the small amount of time they spend in our room, I've seen them have patience and determination and deal with much bad  behavior so that one kid they're accompanying can feel a part of the group with the “normal” kids.

- Watching the little girl with the shaved head rock out in the crowd.  Whatever she's dealt with or been dealing with, it didn't hold her back from singing and dancing just as hard as everyone else.  That puts what I think are big problems in my life rather in perspective.

- The teacher who realized too late that his words had a rather unfortunate alternate meaning...twice in two different services.  “...My special friend...” is probably not the best choice of words for our guest.

- Marveling at the leaders who, just months ago, came in hesitant about kids or volunteering or who knows what.  Now they're the ones making friends, talking to kids, and finding that loner kid against the wall.

- Watching the staff worker who always has the diplomatic answer to most things and seemingly boundless energy.  I wish I was half that cool and motivated to help others see Jesus.

- I'm grateful for my care pastor and the volunteers that made sure we were fed all weekend.  My strategy (for most occasions) is that I work hard and eat appropriately to fuel the machine...i.e. frequently.  I think after the third time I came through the line, Lisa just pretended she didn't see me. :-)

- Realizing I spent 14-15 hours (almost 2 work days) at church over the 3-day weekend.  My choice, but still crazy.

I love my church and the opportunities I've been given.

Christmas

As I was listening to the radio the other night, the hosts were discussing their respective Christmas shopping tasks.  One mentioned that "due to money matters", he was voting to postpone Christmas for a few weeks.  Of course, this prompted the rejoinder of "Yeah, I vote to postpone it too!  Until at least 2015!"  Of course, what was really intended was that he wanted to postpone the gift-giving part of Christmas.   Personally, I admit that I was close to postponing all of Christmas this year too, even having the opportunity to postpone gift-giving until New Years' if I chose .  Work kept me atypically busy right up until the 21st, leaving no time for planning, shopping, or much else.

Once my workload fell off a cliff, I compensated by spending a day and a half with absolutely no commitments and nothing but margin.  Only then did I move from "maximal efficiency-focused decision-making mode" to "relaxed enjoying-life mode".  Somehow, I fit in time with all my friends before they left, all my shopping (OK, enough of my shopping), serving at kids ministry, and a church service before leaving town to spend time with my family.

Having additional time margin allowed me to do some thinking as I ran errands, bought gifts, and re-stocked my fridge.  For example, I noticed myself postponing "traditional" activities like the overwhelming commercialization of Christmas in exchange things I actually wanted to do like spend time with people I value.  I suppose this is a natural effect as I come closer to being who I am - restructuring my life to act more according to my prioritization of quality time over gifts, for example.  This is a good thing, I think.

Still, I pondered.  It continues to be odd to me how people live for what's not important rather than focusing on what is.  Christmas decorations, probably not that important; unless it feeds something that actually is important like spending time with family.  In and of itself, is a "traditional" Christmas dinner super important?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  One of my friends often complains of going to Christmas Eve church with his family - why is that important?  Does Jesus love him less if he doesn't go?  I don't see that in the Bible. 

Even my Christmas was kind of odd.  For the last few years, I've served multiple services at Christmas and Easter, intending to attend church alone yet somehow ending up with friends.  This year, I only signed up for one service, leaving me margin to stay for more if required.  Though I was willing to stay longer, my staff worker sent me home, which I was pretty content with.  Kids ministry is fun, but it's not my life.  As I wandered over towards the auditorium, it became evident that this Christmas service, I'd be "alone in a crowd".  A usual feeling, but a little odd for Christmas.  One service serving,  one service worshipping sitting alone in the four thousand seat auditorium, another hour spent talking to my friends on church staff, and I was home.  Seemed to be far faster than previous Christmases and less stressful at the same time

It's OK, though.  My life is good.  Spending half a day drinking coffee and picking apart the shortcomings of the world with friends.  Staying up way too late with other friends.  Watching (and making fun of) movies with my family.  Trying out a new CD of swing music with my little sister at my parents' house, avoiding burns from the wood stove.  Waking up at 11 AM and wandering about town just to watch people.  These are the moments defining my Christmas, not shopping, returning, and re-gifting.  I'm all right with my choices.  I think they're quite OK.

These moments are what Christmas is about.  This is also what Christmas is about. (That writer often words thoughts similar to mine, but much better.)

Did you spend your Christmas on things that mattered or on things others told you that mattered?

Do I spend the rest of my life on stuff that matters?  That's a big question.

Faithfulness

"You are faithful
You never turn or change
Jesus, You are faithful to the end

You are faithful
Jesus, You are faithful to the end"
-Matt Redman, "Through It All"

Pastor Jesse taught at Shift a few weeks ago as part of our progressive series on the Fruit of the Spirit. His message was on faithfulness. Faithfulness is an interesting concept that Jesse illustrated from the book of Daniel. Not the fiery furnace as I might have expected, but rather the very beginning part, where Daniel and his friends are first taken to Babylon. Not only were they taken from their families, their lives, and their homeland, even their names were taken away. Rather than the names their parents had given them, names that extolled the one true God, they were given names that meant things like "God hates me" and "God has abandoned me."

Even in such depressing circumstances, though, they remained faithful. If you remember, they were told to partake in a diet that was likely against God's commands. Away from all that was familiar, reminded of their despair every time someone called their name, in a circumstance where nobody would have faulted them for such a small compromise, they still chose to hold to their values. This is faithfulness.

One of our discussion questions asked if we doubted God's faithfulness. Though I've seen some dark things in my life and sometimes wondered where God was, I really don't doubt. Even in the darkest parts of life, God has always been there to rescue me and redeem the evil for good.

No, it's not God's faithfulness that I doubt. Rather it's my own that's constantly in question. Faithful? Sometimes. Sometimes I'm cognizant of God's path for my feet. Occasionally, I even recognize it early enough to ensure my feet stay on it. It seems that far more frequently, though, I'm off meandering around in some meadow somewhere rather than following the path. Either the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, I can't see the fence, or mostly I'm probably just not paying attention. Whatever the justification, "faithfulness" probably isn't one of the dominant characteristics of my life.

Jesse further showed that faithfulness is rewarded with influence. Not only did Daniel and his friends look better after a trial period of their desired diet,the king then elevated them to a high position. A position higher than all the other young men in the same "leadership track". I've seen parts of this truth in my life, so I don't dispute it. I do try my best (at least I think I do), but if the best I can do is still not super faithful, then what? I don't think that I seek influence as a defining goal of my life, but will I forever be the wishy-washy follower?

Weird.  Thought-provoking

As if to add insult to injury, that weekend Pastor Jim was preaching about the first disciples. He was talking about how they were probably much younger than we think probably high school sophomores. And there's a reason the Bible didn't say Jesus took students. Students want to know what the teacher knows. Disciples want to be who the rabbi is. Even Jim said he didn't know anyone who actually was striving to be who Jesus was. For a while I was really disappointed, because I couldn't think of any way I was trying to be like a homeless Jewish person who loved everyone and wandered the countryside telling people about God.  I'm not faithful in much. Now in my late 20's, I don't feel I've done much with my life, and don't look much like Jesus.

Jesse started with a verse from Ezekiel about God looking for even one person who would be faithful and not finding anyway.

"I looked for someone among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found no one." -Ezekiel 22:30, NIV

Although sounding much the opposite, this is an encouraging verse because it means that God's willing to work with the unfaithful. He's willing to start wherever you are.  That's good, because "where I am" often doesn't have much to say for itself.

What are you faithful to in your life? 

Who I Am

And we break and we burn
And we turn it inside out
To take it back to the start
And through the rise and falling apart
We discover who we are
- Lifehouse, "Who We Are"

Over the last year and a half, I've spent some time working on the "stuff" of my life.  One goal of that time has been coming to a better sense of who I am.  Not who I'm told to be or what the world wants to make me into, but who I am and who I am created to be.  On a scale of zero to amazeballs, I'd say I'm pretty sure of myself now and I'm actually a pretty big fan of myself, which was not necessarily true before.

I've noticed that once "who I am" is sorted out, it also sorts out the areas outside my boundaries ("who I'm not") and the areas inside my boundaries but outside my comfort zone ("who I'm not but can pretend to be for a short time").  Because I am confident in who I'm made to be, these different territories can be completely justified as "personal preference" and "who I believe myself to be."  As intrinsic properties, these can't effectively be argued or discredited.  Score!  One more way of deflecting projections others would wrongly impose on me.

At dance practice a week or two ago, a team member was asked if he'd be willing to risk some kind of new experience.  (Exactly what, I don't remember because it's unimportant)  He noncommittally shrugged and said "Yeah, sure."  The questioner agreed, "Yes, you do seem like a 'yes' kind of guy."  I smiled inside, because I know me and I'm often a "No" person.  Knowing where my fences are and being willing to say no to opportunities outside them means that I'm free to immerse myself fully in my commitments.  Sometimes having boundaries means being a "No" person, and that's perfectly acceptable.

Last summer, I set a new ongoing life goal: "To always live out of the abundance of who I am, knowing that 'who I am' is a state that improves as God steadily works on my life".  Unfortunately, no sooner had I purposed such than I learned that this doesn't necessarily work in the real world.  First of all, if you choose to live fully as yourself, vulnerable and everything, you are quickly reminded that not everyone is "safe" to be vulnerable with.  Many are but some are not, and, having learned to "be myself", I again quickly learned to throw down (healthy!) boundaries and respond noncommittally to those around whom complete openness wasn't healthy.

Instead of Lifehouse, life is more like a slightly different band:

"You can't quit until you try
You can't live until you die
You can't learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie"
- Sixx AM, "Life is Beautiful"

"You can't tell the truth until you learn to lie".  I don't think Jesus would have said that, but there might be some truth in it.  I've learned to ignore, deflect, or dismiss conversations that would intrude too far into my core.  The behavior is like something I would have done before, but instead of squirming because I feel like I'm being cut open, it feels like sidestepping the stinky cowpie.  Maybe that's my old brokenness coming back, but it feels much more like healthy mature growth.

As I heal my brokenness, the brokenness of others becomes more evident.  Sometimes that's a manifestation of "if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail", but sometimes it's legitimate - being whole and living in freedom offers a constant and distinct reminder that not everyone enjoys that benefit.  At times, I'm not sure if it's my wholeness contrasting with the brokenness or if I've swung too far towards what Ze Frank calls "being myself all over other people" where I act "me" regardless of the impact on others.  Nevertheless, being part of a minority with stiff and conservative boundaries creates many "opportunities for growth."

Instead of me being me, recently there's been a felt pressure to be someone other than me.  We've covered this already and the answer is NO!  I'm going to be who I am, not some imagined thing.  I've spent effort and time and discontentment to fix me and I'm not about to throw it away because someone else "thinks it'll be fun."  In the sense of an artist or author using lies to tell the truth, I'm willing to slightly distort my portrayal of myself, but it has to be slight and seldom.  I'm proud of the person I am and don't feel like hiding it.

Currently, I'm mentally tooling up for another discussion of personal-space boundaries.  For the second time in only a few weeks, I find myself pointing out the line in the sand dividing where I'm willing to step and "...that's too far."  I precipitated the last discussion by being proactive, redirecting a trend headed towards annoyingville and destination: Soul-Draining Town.  By standing up for myself in a kind but unequivocal manner, we reached a mutually satisfactory solution.  The upcoming disagreement should comparatively be a "nothing" as it's a strong personal preference rather than a moral boundary.   Further, I'm disagreeing with a statement starting with "I recommend..." Recommendations aren't mandatory and the one given is outside my personal boundaries.  As established above, boundaries from personal preferences are still intrinsic values and hard for others to dispute.

Still, I find my position consolidating and my countenance hardening as I start to dig my heels in inside my head.  I'm hoping this is a nonevent, but preparing for it to be otherwise.  Being me is freeing, but continually repelling boarders becomes frustrating.  No free rent in my head, for sure. 

"Be who you are and say what you feel
because those who mind don't matter
and those who matter don't mind."
- Dr. Seuss

As a contrast, one of my church friends posted the following, describing people who truly care.  This is how my closest friends treat me and an ideal against which to hold up people I want to let into my life in the future.

"Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly, your wholeness when you are broken, your innocence when you feel guilty, and your purpose when you are confused."

What a better way to live than the litany of "Why won't you...?" and "It wouldn't hurt you to..."!

This Changes Everything

I'm thankful today for Flatirons, somewhere I've found to be home over the last two years. I reckon I'd probably be dead without it. Not physically dead, but in a ditch somewhere emotionally and spiritually. Instead, I'm good, life is good, and God is always good.

I would not have traded being in church or in kids ministry today for being anywhere else.

Like Pastor Jim says, "This (Jesus) changes everything."

Please heal me,
I can't sleep.
Thought I was unbreakable, but this is killing me.
Call me
Everything.
Make me feel unbreakable,
[now you've] set me free.

Chains

“It's been so long/I can't remember when
I first put on these chains I'm wearing/or how it all began
I used to dream/I would dream of living life so free
But I've been locked down for so so long/these chains are a part of me”

- “Broken Chainz”, Kingsonz

A few weeks ago, I wrote on “the power of words”. By attending Shift, I've become aware of how just being aware of something can change its affect on your life or your reaction to its stimulus in your life. One of the ideas expressed in the Foursquare church I visited was the simple power of the spoken word to break patterns and habits. It makes some sense, but that one guy who talks to himself in the mirror every day seems a little over the top. And James 3 notwithstanding, I'm not always sure that merely saying stuff changes life in a meaningful way.

Several years ago at a Joe White campus outreach, I was given a single chain link. More than five years later, I can't remember the sentiment intended to be anchored to that object, but I've carried it on my keychain since. I think it was something like “giving your will over to Jesus as a slave and following Him singlemindedly” or something. A good sentiment, I suppose. Sometime in the last month or so, manipulation of my keychain swiped the link off into my jacket pocket, evading my notice for a couple weeks.

And I don't want to let them go
They're the only way of life that I really know
I know there's something more but this is comfortable
And even though there's pain, it's predictable
I just don't know what I will do
Without these chains, how will I make it through?

Chains...I've felt locked up in my life for a while. Sometimes past mistakes haunt me, with voices in my head belittling my worth. Sometimes it's my own thoughts casting dismal visions of my future. Whatever it is, it feels like my life is held down by heavy weights sometimes.

I want to be set free & walk out in the Son
I want to take these shackles off my feet so I can run
But I'm so afraid of the unknown that is to come

I have some friends who have been associated with AA. One well-known characteristic of AA is the “sobriety chips” given out for increasing durations of sobriety. Recovering alcoholics often carry their most recent chip with them to remind them of their new way of life and their vulnerability to old temptations. Hold that thought (tangible reminder of spiritual condition) for a moment.

Over the last six months, I've been pointedly and purposefully working through stuff in my life. While I don't have a “duration of sobriety” to give me a metric of progress, the indicators I've been watching in my life definitively show that all the hard work has been worthwhile and effective. As part of my journey, I completed a “Step Study”, which focused on each of the 12 steps, giving room for discussion and methods for implementation. The study was long, starting in late summer and finishing just before Christmas. The last night, as a measure of our progress, our leader had us write down things we no longer wanted and burn them in the parking lot. Fire is great and cathartic and all that. As we kicked ashes of dead things into a snowbank and turned to leave, our leader stopped each of us, dropped something into our hand, then walked on.

Turning the object over in my fingers, I found it to be a bronze circle, with the simple word “Celebrate” on one side and the phrase “Living Life Centered On 12 Steps” on the reverse. It's my very own chip! You know, for such a simple object previously below my awareness, I'm really proud of that silly little thing. It goes with me almost everywhere in my pocket, and occasionally finds its way into my hands when they're bored.

Why do I carry it? Because it reminds me. My chains are gone. All the baggage, the guilt, the expectations, they're not mine to carry. I shed all that stuff. At least, a big part of it. I'm not chained to my past, my old patterns, or my old results. Through prayer and lots of hard work, the heavy stuff is gone. It doesn't weigh me down any more and I can walk as a free man. I am who I am today, and can walk tall and in confidence of that fact.

Some days, I manually index my keyring and miss the chain link. Then the solid metal “clunk” of my Shift chip reminds me that I don't need the chains, I have my actual life. I'm free of my old stuff and can go on to live my life the way it was intended to be, not the way my past tried to lock me into. The old darkness is familiar and well-worn, but just doesn't fit who I am any more.

But some days it feels like it was all a dream,
'Cause I can still hear my chains calling out for me,
And sometimes it feels like I'm wandering,
And I start to long for the dark again,
And I doubt & distrust your promises,
But you're always right there with me,
And when I fall you pick me back up again

I love this song. I think I've listened to it twice a day (on average) since the week before Christmas. It's totally outside my usual musical style, but the words describe my life uncannily well. Check out these men (from my church) and their story:

BROKEN CHAINZ- LIVE AT FLATIRONS COMMUNITY CHURCH
(song starts at 3:50)

Chains vs. Change: Icons of paradigms in my life, past and future

Voices

“These are the voices
[…]
We make the choices”
-“Voices”, Michael W. Smith

I had just turned off the highway when the voices started. I had momentarily wondered if this would happen, but hadn't really prepared for it.

It was Sunday and I was on my way to visit a “new” church. A preceding strange day had meant that I attended my own church the night before, and so was left with a free morning. I'd been slightly intrigued by the Foursquare church I'd visited in Indian Hills several months before for a conference and had since meant to visit. With an otherwise-free Sunday, it was time.

Indian Hills...the town where my ex-girlfriend's parents live. I remember many trips up here, both with and without that particular young lady. For the conference, I had carpooled with a friend, but now here I was, driving through the quiet mountain town alone. That is, alone but for the voices in my head. Some were of my ex and her family, piling guilt on me, loading up condemnation in my backpack that wasn't mine to carry. A few were my own, doing some wishing and some shoulding.

Lately, God seems to have been giving the lesson first, then the test immediately after. I'm thankful for this rather than the more usual “test then teach” construction. As I drove, I was also pondering Jim's words from the night before. As I mentioned last time, Jim was preaching from Romans 8. Verses 33-34 say

“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one.”

Jim highlighted that often the one who condemns us the most, who “won't let us up off the mat”, is ourselves. After a good friend highlighted my habit of negative self-talk several years ago, I've slowly improved my opinion of myself, but that doesn't always do anything about what others have said about me. In this case, the unhealthy people were no longer in my life, but the words were; both theirs and mine.

Halfway up Parmalee Gulch Road, I realized that all that stuff is really water under the bridge. It's the past, and the past is gone. No-one can judge me for the stuff that happened ever so long ago, not even me. Jesus even paid for that. For me.

From there, my day lightened. I got to church early and without "winter driving excitement" spent time with God and “just happened” to be invited to the church lunch afterwards. Encouragement, free food, and time with God – a pretty good Sunday, all in all.

Oddly, the sermon at the church I visited was about “blessing” and “cursing” and how our words and thoughts can have supernatural effects. Almost as if God had planned that. Weird how that works...

Five years ago this week, I was reading cue cards to a pretty girl over plates of good Mexican food. This year, I'm setting down all the stuff that I carry from that time of my life. There's been junk renting space in my head, but that's over. All y'all gotta get out now, your time is past and your lease is up. Out!

Thus God continues to be good to me in ways that I can't imagine and can barely explain.

Gremlins (vs. God)

"And I'm chained like a slave, trapped in the dark
Slammed all the locks, death calls my name
And it seems I've been buried alive"
- "Buried Alive", Avenged Sevenfold

Saturday was one of "those" days. It's all been piling up for weeks; the stress, the subconscious discomfiture. It was supposed to be a day of relaxing and miscellaneous task cleanup. Instead, it was a day where life imitated vocation in a seeming mockery of sane people's desires.

I had a pretty low bar set for the weekend - some light housecleaning, a few tasks that needed focused attention, and a small pile of writing that I wanted to get done. I was excited - it was to be a chance to make measurable progress towards self-set goals.

Said progress and goals are a sad contrast to my current work environment. Work is currently a free-for-all brawl between the laws of physics, the limits of our infrastructure, and broken people lashing out in their frustration when an ideal, fantasy plan meets cold hard reality. Most of the project team is straining to make progress, yet the daily meetings are rife with exhortation and chastisement to work "faster". I've watched as initial excitement has given way to frustration, defensiveness, and finally despair and despondence as the goal line moves again and again.

In the background, this holiday season promises to be trying in a new way, for reasons that I've barely begun to ponder. (and am planning on a blog entry to elaborate) Amongst the annual idea-gathering/shopping routine comes additional complications at "other home" that I'm trying to understand and deal with.

This week at Shift, Lisa was speaking about benefits of recovery programs and how the holidays can often draw people's brokenness to the surface. One of the images she used that stuck with me was of an olive press.

In Biblical times, olive oil was a valuable commodity used for cooking, lighting, and many other purposes. Problem is, the oil is trapped in small little pores in the olive fruit. To harvest the oil, the olives are pressed between millstones until the pressure bursts the cells, allowing the oil to drain away. After that, some post-processing is required to separate the waste water and plant material, leaving only the pure oil for use or for sale. In the same way, God uses hard things to squeeze out the "bits" of God secreted in various parts of our life so that His work can be seen and glorified by ourselves and by others.

At the time, I was like "sure, work is like an olive press. I can hang with that. God is using this really tough time there to make me more like Him."

Then there was yesterday. Let's see, how did yesterday go? Oh yes, it started with me using the Internet to chase down something that had been stuck in my head for half the week in some possibly-misguided impression that God had something to say. That is, until my computer hung. Of course, with 6 Firefox tabs open (half unread), email I hadn't responded to yet, and the desired music of the day queued. All stopped, dead in the water. A reboot started a dreadful cycle of blue screens, reboots, hung explorer.exe processes, and more lack of response. Nice...nothing like a hard drive failure to liven my day.

After that, it was the realization that I would have to go to work today because someone's (unrealistically high) expectations meant that I had "charts and graphs" (which sounds suspiciously like arts and crafts) to put together for a Monday morning meeting. Normally, I take my laptop to amuse myself with music or podcasts. Oh wait-the laptop is dead because of the above-mentioned failure. And I got a late start to work because of the time I spent messing with the laptop.

From there, my day cascaded downhill. The order status phone call I've been trying to get through for weeks finally got answered, only to be told in a heavy almost-un-understandable accent that I have to call back Monday to speak with anyone who knows anything. My simple Old Town Arvada errand got delayed because apparently half the town wants to be in Old Town. Facebook hates me because I'm leveraging my accounts to do things they think I shouldn't. (Apparently signing in with correct credentials from a different computer is a security risk and deserves locking my account.) My phone decides that it only sends text messages sometimes.

I was arguing with God because my expectation of His timing is off and I want to "help" him figure out how to fulfill what He's said to me. My version of "helping" would have added to my schedule, running my time margins low.

After finishing my tasks at work, I decide that I'll just "give up" and go to church and sit and wait for God. Being a Saturday, I have the rare opportunity to go to Chick-Fil-A before church, so I decide to take it. Halfway there, I realize that a) my driving awareness needs raised from its everyday 3/10 to an >8/10 because half the roads and parking lots look like black ice. And I'm in an erstwhile-borrowed car which I want to take good care of. And the car has a standard transmission. I don't mind it because it makes it more interesting to drive, but after a few missed shifts, I worry if I'm driving it to the best of my ability. Really? All today, God? Do I really need this? Apparently.

Finally, I get my "dragon rear" to church (color commentary courtesy of Urban Dictionary today) and find a quiet corner to eat my hard-fought Chick-Fil-A. Not, however, before someone stops me in the parking lot and points out that I have a burnt-out headlight. (in my 'not-my' car, remember). Thirty minutes from home, in a borrowed car, in a town where the cops have a keen eye for detail/wrongdoing. Always something.

In all, it felt like a day from Emily's life, but with metaphorical poo rather than her often-literal deposits. A day full of gremlins.

The day wasn't quite a complete loss, though. I plopped down on an empty couch near the fireplace to finish my milkshake (peppermint chocolate chip milkshake FTW) and visited briefly with a couple nice people.

After finding my seat in the auditorium, I just couldn't muster much enthusiasm to answer Jenny-the-worship-leader's cheery "Good evening Flatirons! How are you doing?!?!" (It's a typical large-church enthusiastic greeting, but it always seems heartfelt. Come to Flatirons sometime and you'll understand the implied inflection) There were a few half-hearted cheers, but the only answer I felt like giving would have been rude. How was I? Tired, defeated, and herded into a quiet corner.

As Jay used to say, though, "Act your way into feeling, not feel your way into acting.", so I stood and pretended that I was psyched into worshiping as the lights dimmed and chords started resounding through the room. By the second verse of "Sing Sing Sing", my world started to look not quite as dark, and by the end of the second song, my life was almost worth a smile.

Jim was in high form this weekend. This weekend's part of Romans was the latter part of chapter 8, enumerating all the things that can't separate us from God. I promise I was listening (what else did I have to do? What did I come for?), but I don't remember all Jim said. I remember the important parts, though. Stuff like "Do you figure that God only loves you if He catches the bad stuff you think is coming? Do you think God doesn't love you if He doesn't catch the bad stuff?" And "If God had only sent you Jesus but never gave you anything else in your life, it would still be enough. It would be enough, because you would have Jesus. And if He gave you everything else, you know, 10 bucks here, a free pass on that traffic ticket there, but didn't give you Jesus, it would be no good. It would be useless."

I guess that landed pretty solidly. I have faith in God by the Flatirons definition; I believe that God is who He says He is and that He'll do everything He's ever promised. I try to add things on that I think He should promise me. I try to tell God when He should come through on His promises and how I think "doing everything [you've] ever promised" should look.

I forget that even if God never answers my questions (even the "easy" ones), it'll be enough. Even if I continue to hate showing up for work every day for the rest of my life, it'll be OK in some strange way. But I still bridle at why all the problems have to come into my life. Why am I locked into almost 2 full days of data recovery (rsync to the rescue) and without my main computer? Why can't stuff just work?

I guess it's just another indication that I'm at the right church. I'm apparently in a phase again where God is writing sermons just for me. I may be doing a poor job of relating why they're important, but each message is "landing" for me in my life.

And God beats the little gremlins every time, just not on my schedule or according to my template.

My Life in Flatirons Idioms

(Taking a page out of my friend Mike's book, tonight is an exercise in brevity. Sometimes less is indeed more.)

Looking back at this year's sermons and my life, there are many shared moments. Heretofore, I present:

Quotes about my life (mostly from Pastor Jim):

We're not saying these are the best [stories]. We're saying that they're our [stories] and that's what we have to share.

You say your life is messed up? Me too. (then, “Let's figure it out together”)

God says love your enemies. I say, I'll hold 'em, you hit 'em.

People say “That's just God's will” and they say it at the worst times. It's not. God didn't send it, God didn't allow it. But He said “I can use that for good.” Why didn't He control it and keep it from happening? Jim's Theological Answer, write it down: “I don't know. Talk to God about it.”

It didn't surprise God. God didn't say “Ooh, didn't see that one coming. I hope this turns out OK.”

I'm not at my destination. I probably won't get “there”. But I'm better than I used to be.

Hurt people hurt people.

“Accepting this world as it is, not as I would have it.”

“Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.”

Life with Jesus isn't easier. But it's better.

It's not about the destination, it's about the journey.

Life is always more clear in the rearview mirror than in the headlights.

(Last, but not least)

Come and see. [I] don't care what you believe. Just come, see, and decide for yourself.

I Blame Flatirons

I bought Halloween candy last week for the first time in my life. It doesn't mean I'm going to answer the door for trick-and-treaters (I won't because I don't care) or that I'm going partying (boring). So what do I need 10 lbs of candy for? Church. I blame Flatirons for the pile of candy in my grocery basket last week.

Like seemingly every other church, Flatirons is having a “Fall Fest” the weekend before Halloween. Besides requesting the customary volunteers, they also asked everyone to bring candy, providing collection boxes in the church lobby. Now I don't care about Halloween, but I do care that kids get a chance to bump into Jesus just like adults. I care that children get a chance to learn that God loves them and doesn't hate them. Besides, I have a Sam's Club card – leverage what you have, right?

As I start looking through my life, I keep finding little “plot twists” that I can blame on Flatirons.

After serving for about 3 months, I've become contented and joyful in the ministry I've been placed in (Summit – Flatirons' children's ministry). Once again, I'm doing audio/video, but the title “tech team” sounds better. In my previous church, I often felt like tech people were expected to exist at the beck and call of those on stage. The worship team was a little better, but there was still a fundamental disconnect between mixing desk and band. Here I feel like part of a team with the teacher, working together to bring kids closer to Jesus. Of course, having a smaller room doesn't hurt – instead of shouting to be heard on stage, merely speaking has the same effect.

It's kids ministry, even, which continues to amuse/puzzle me. To me, that's always one of those ministries that you're “called to” and the other sane people find other ministries. Lest you wonder, I am not called to kids min. Turns out they need tech people too, though, and I can do that half-asleep. Some weeks I do indeed do it half-asleep, at least until my coffee takes effect. As background, I got volunteered for youth group at the Vineyard a few years ago. That was OK but not a good long-term fit for me, so I stepped down after six months. In contrast, I plan on sticking with “my” room of second and third graders for the foreseeable future. I'm content to serve and excited for each of my scheduled weeks.

Then I realize that these plot twists are not totally Flatirons' fault. In reality, it's God working in me over the time I spend there and I'm just noticing what's already true.

Like when I took my friend shooting last week. It was her second time ever shooting a firearm and her first time shooting a handgun. I did remember to impart some basic instruction points (Thank you Appleseed) but it was hard to describe how to shoot from “first principles” and zero previous experience rather than “you just do it”. I showed her how to shoot, let her participate for a while, then traded off. After all, one purpose of each and every range trip is to maintain my own skills. Exposing others to the sport is a very fortunate byproduct. When it was my turn, I picked up either the pistol or rifle, picked a target spot, and, without thinking, executed “inhale-exhale-pause-press” (rifle) or “grip-stance-front sight-press-recoil” (handgun). Later, I was replaying my shooting in my head and realized that somehow all the necessary movements came from “muscle memory”, flowing like second nature. Looking at the target, almost without exception, neat holes appeared in pairs or in groups just as I intended.

When did I ingrain all those habits so deeply? When did I get to be that good of a shot? I don't know, it just happened. Like me growing in my walk with God. When and how did I become a different man than even just six months ago? “Just happened”, I guess. I can't complain, though. Was it practice, like how my shooting improves? Maybe. Who knows? I'll settle for being thankful and continuing to press into the changes in my life. All of them. (For lo, shooting is both enjoyable and doth restore my sanity)

If I had pondered my future six months ago, I would not have foreseen myself as content as I am in the circumstances I am in. Yet here I am, and my life is good. At the beginning of the year, I had my own image of what the autumn should look like. Of course, my life looks nothing like that. However, it really is true – God's plans are better than mine and I prefer His now that I see it.

God, through Flatirons, is finishing the work that my former girlfriend started. That, however, is a good story for another day.

Taking Stock

“We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves”
-Step 4, Celebrate Recovery (and similar)

In the aftermath of my ended relationship earlier this year, I decided to attend Shift, Flatirons' version of Celebrate Recovery. I wanted a method to deal with the brokenness thereby introduced, and it's grown into digging all kinds of stuff up. Tonight, I realized that I've been at Shift for almost 6 months.

For the past 6 weeks, I've been in a study that deals in depth with each of the 12 steps used by AA, CODA, CR and many other programs. (Hence the occasional blog post spun off one Step or another) It's been an eye-opening experience. The depths of my life that I've been led to bring to light have been incredibly daunting, yet having it broken down into small pieces and conquering each piece beside other men has made it seem much more doable.

We've spent the last two or three weeks assembling our “moral inventories” - lists starting with people we've hurt, people who've hurt us, and sometimes “I hurt myself” moments, then continuing into what hurt happened, why it happened, and what part of it I own. Sometimes I own all of it, sometimes none of it. The exercise is cathartic and depressing all at the same time. Seeing the words on paper (or on the computer screen in my case) seems to take away the power that the hurt has held over me. Itemizing and analyzing the “bad spots” in my life takes some time and poring back through the cowpies isn't on my all-time fun list. Side note: apparently my spell check doesn't approve of “cowpies”. Cowpie isn't OK either. Apparently it's a city slicker spell check. But I digress.

"Searching and fearless" - now there's some intense words. I wasn't sure I wanted to examine my life with such intensity, but a half-hearted effort would not yield any useful results. Intense it is, I guess.

As I wrote, there started to be a couple underlying themes. One of these was how, in every case, I was thankful that a situation didn't degrade further or how God saved me from a bad situation. The theme was continued in a conversation before Step Study last week with an acquaintance from a previous church. She asked how I had been, and I tried to summarize the changes in my life over the last year and a half or so. At an overall survey level, my life is far different now than a year ago. I:

• broke up with Mary
• faced a lot of ugliness because of that
• found a ministry to fix my stuff
• found a ministry in which to serve
• integrated myself into a (Vineyard) small group until it ended
• considered starting my own small group
• found a (Flatirons) small group I felt accepted in
• met a bunch of interesting people through small groups, Shift, and children's ministry
• began a step study to dig out more of my crud
• found the Appleseed program
• made Appleseed a noticeable part of my life (at least one weekend/month now)
• recovered from my breakup and got back on my emotional/relational feet
  

and the list just goes on and on.

On my way home from the church, I continued the path we had started down in small group. The last question of the moral inventory is “Do I see God working in the events of my life?” Even through the “ugly”, my answer has to be unquestionably “Yes!” In the bad parts, in the good parts, it's all been God.

As just one example, my post-breakup recovery cycle shortened dramatically this time. Last time, I was in a depression for almost a year. This time, less weeks than fingers on one hand. Last time, it took me almost two years to re-understand myself and my emotional boundaries. This time, it was closer to 3 months. Herein lies a milestone of personal growth.

Lately, work has been hard. Really hard. We're under schedule, budget, and technical pressure. I'm finding that some people don't handle pressure well and their unredeemed side is showing. Every day seems to be a new fight, putting out new “fires”, and trying to do the best by those for whom I'm responsible. Every day is a battle, and I usually get home completely worn out. I guess that's what they pay me for, though, and there is a scheduled date where the workload is supposed to rapidly abate. Supposedly we only have 5-6 weeks left of this very special situation, but I doubt the veracity of that statement.

You know, even with all that going on, I'm really OK with where I'm at. Not merely glumly accepting, but joyful. I realize that God is working in me every day, just a little bit at a time, and that's OK.

I'm not with Mary any more, even though we both thought we'd spend the rest of our lives together, but I'm happy about that – it's worked out better for the change. That'd be an easy statement if I could follow it with “and besides, I met someone who has made everything right in my life.” It would also be a falsehood, as I'm single. Said fantasy person hasn't showed up and I'm still plugging away in my own life with my own two feet, one at a time. But you know what? I'm OK with that too. Life with only me and God has turned out better than I figured it would be. I know, I don't have much faith sometimes. Jesus loves me anyway, so get over it.

The turbulence of the last several months has subsided into a quiet yet deep trust that God will take care of me. Difficult work, unsure times in our culture/world, no time to consider where ministry will take me at church; all doesn't matter because my life is definitely acceptable, I have no complaints, and God's got my back.

I'm even thinking of changing my FB picture. I've owned the diffraction pattern since junior year, with only short breaks. It was something I had done with my own two hands, my own creation if you will. Instead, I'm looking to change to one showing something like a dicot, showing new growth. (Go Google it) That roughly describes how I feel – new leaves are showing in my life, but I still feel a little fragile.




“My dead heart now is beating
My deepest stains now clean
Your breath fills up my lungs
Now I'm free, now I'm free

Sin has lost it's power
Death has lost it's sting
From the grave You've risen
Victoriously

Into marvelous light I'm running
Out of darkness, out of shame
By the cross You are the truth
You are the life, You are the way”

- “Marvelous Light”, Charlie Hall

Easter at Flatirons

(I have some full-length blog entries in my mental queue, but it sometimes takes time to sort through words, then put them down on paper in some semblance of order. In the meantime, I offer some quick thoughts from today.)

My church is great. It amuses me greatly, meets me where I am, and challenges me to move on towards who God wants me to be. The few friends who have come with me to brave a Flatirons service always make their first remark "It's BIG!" Yes, it is. I can't say I'm a big fan of the size (although it makes some great things possible), but I appreciate other things about it enough to not care about the size. How big? OK, we just moved buildings last week. Our old (rented) building sat 2000, and ran into overflow seating for 2-3 of the 6 services every weekend. Our new building seats 4000. Based on the parking lot this morning, I think they'll hit their estimate of 20,000-24,000 for Easter (six services). Next week, it'll be back down to the "normal" 10,000-12,000. Church is big.

This is my first Easter at Flatirons. I've been attending for almost a year, and seem to often be out of town (with my parents or otherwise) for Easter. I didn't have firm expectations this morning, so I was caught off guard when the traffic snarl started more than a half-mile from the church. ... I knew I should have left earlier. Entering the entryway, my worry changed from "I hope I find a parking spot" to "I hope I find a seat." Although the auditorium packed out, being barely on time was enough time to get settled.

Easter at Flatirons isn't much different than any other Sunday at Flatirons. Unlike Jay, Pastor Jim didn't wear a tie, so no disclaimer about "none of us will look like this" was necessary. The new building has allowed for slightly longer services, which means slightly longer worship sets, and I'm not sure it's possible for me to get enough worship.

The band at Flatirons is always very talented, and tries to "speak God's truth in the language of our culture", which means we get to hear interesting songs as either before-service warm-ups or sermon introductions. Today was no exception - I heard Led Zeppelin first, then the sermon intro was Linkin Park, complete with rap. Although the music isn't on my "best ever" list, the lyrics seemed applicable to life and fit in perfectly with Jim's sermon. It amuses me to no end that my church plays such music.

OK, today wasn't quite like every other Sunday. After the sermon intro, we noted something heavy falling on a rope from the catwalk (we have a tall auditorium now) accompanied by a thump and a "holy c**p" from the row behind me. Immediately after, Pastor Jim rappelled down the rope into his preaching spot to much laughter, opening with "You know it was only a matter of time before we did something stupid here." Rappelling, Led Zeppelin, and Linkin Park, welcome to Flatirons.

After the attention-getting intro, he continued his series on "basic things we believe in", which is a yearly spring feature. It's always good, and I'm inexorably moving towards being more involved again. There are many opportunities and choices, requiring discernment to find where I belong best. It's an adventure, though, and one that God will lead me through one step at a time.

Happy Easter and stuff!

The Psychology of Church

Greetings, one and all. I haven't written in quite some time, but I haven't had anything useful to say. I've been writing off and on, but most of it has not been polished enough to publish. Writing is fun and cathartic, so I've been meaning to write some. Now I have a subject that's at least mildly interesting, so I'm back.

My current church is a Vineyard church. "Vineyard" isn't really a denomination. Rather, they refer to themselves as "a community of churches" - just a group of people following Jesus as best as we can, together. This is reflected in our church motto of "Reach up [to God], reach in [to your community], then reach out [to the world around us]". First we want God to change our lives, which is enabled by living in close community with other Christians. Only after that do we have room in our lives to reach out to the fallen world around us. One (new to me) attribute of the Vineyard church is a greater emphasis on the present and continuing work of the Holy Spirit in our lives. The way Pastor Jay puts it is that most Christians today, while intellectually and theologically acknowledging that God is trinitarian (three entities), live day-to-day as though God were binitarian (two entities).

You know people and I know people who go to church on Sunday and are "good Christians". They read the Bible, they pray, and all that good stuff. They'll go to heaven when they die, hopefully show Jesus to some people along the way, but their lives are pretty routine. Let's call these people Group A.

Another recurring theme of my church is that when God shows up, things get messy. If you read the New Testament or any part of the Bible really, God doesn't call us to be boring. John 10 says that Jesus came "that we might have life, and have it abundantly". Not that we would just survive the daily grind. The Pharisees, they had their thing down. Follow the rules and everything will be in its nice neat box. Jesus came and chastised them because they had lost sight of God to follow rules. Jesus was pretty "weird". He partied at sinner's houses. He told people weird things. And it turned some people off, to be honest.

Remember those good church people I was just talking about? What do you think would happen if Jesus showed up at their church and just started, say, healing people. "Hey you, with the back problem. Do you want to be healed? Come down here. Sir, I know you have been looking at porn on the Internet. Stop. Now. Go and don't do it ever again." And He goes on: "Ma'am, you've been called to minister in this or that area. Start now." I think you would agree that all these things I've just mentioned are good things: healing, breaking addictions, receiving calling in your life. And yet, what a scene it would be.

I'm sure we've all also heard about those weird charismatic or Pentecostal people. People "slain in the Spirit", suddenly speaking out in tongues, and weird stuff like that. I think that the popular image is that they're off their nut. These things don't really happen, they're just faking it. Stupid people just looking for attention, you know. Let's call this Group B.

My church is somewhere in the middle. We are "empowered evangelicals", which means that we have a solid Biblical theology grounding, notably including the fact that God can and does work in people's lives today, sometimes in unexpected ways. Every week in church, we make time to pray for people who need it. Sometimes people are given visions or words for specific people or specific needs. These revelations are shared so others can pray that God's work would be done.

My ex-girlfriend was a very cut-and-dried person, sometimes more than I. Neither of us were raised in charismatic churches, and both being science majors, sometimes we're hard to convince. I've been attending Arvada Vineyard for about a year now, and I've gotten used to weird things happening in church sometimes. Andie came to my church a few times, and notced a some things that I had gotten used to. Being new to the Vineyard, she was skeptical that we were "for real". It definitely made me re-evaluate things I had taken for granted.

This last weekend, I attended a retreat as part of our "Discovering Community" program. To avoid giving excessive detail, I will quickly summarize by saying it was a pretty intense time. We spent an extended amount of time in prayer and waiting on the work of the Holy Spirit. Later, we compared stories as a group and praised God for the good things He had done, omitted here for brevity. In the past year I've both seen and experienced the Holy Spirit laying on people almost as a physical sensation. Of the more visible gifts commonly believed to have ceased with the completion of the Biblical canon (prophecy, tongues, and healing), I have seen all three and used one. While there is always room for human-introduced error, the conclusion has always been that they were legitimate manifestations of the Holy Spirit.

There are a lot of people in this world who are looking for something to believe in. There are also people in this world looking to take advantage of gullible people. This arrangement leads to horoscopes and so-called psychics offering their services and taking in people. Some would suggest that people who claim to experience God are just suggestible. It's just the pastor, you know. He leads them on and tricks them. He's after their wallet, you know. If Jay says he thinks God wants to heal someone's health problem, for instance, it's just odds that someone in the room will have that exact problem. It's not God, it's just chance.

It reminds me a little of a discussion in my old church many years ago. One traditional order of service in the church is to have music first, then the preaching, then take an offering. Well, some people said that it was a little manipulative. You know, the music gets people's blood flowing and minds engaged, then the preacher takes advantage of their heightened awareness to lay some guilt on them. After that, people should be so "convicted" that they give money to the church. It's all about the money, remember. (That's sarcasm, if you haven't figured it out yet) Instead, there should be no possibility that people responding to the preaching are just on an "endorphin rush" from the music. Let's have the preaching first, so the people who come to church ready to listen and learn actually benefit the most. All that feel-good music stuff can come afterwards, after the sermon, since the preaching is the real meat of the service. The other stuff (except prayer, which is always appropriate) is pretty much filler. We do things different. We start with worship songs, then church announcements, then Jay gets up to preach. The service closes with ministry time and usually one more worship song.

This reasoning is partly based on sheer practicality. Starting with worship allows people to trickle in slightly late while not missing a whole lot of the service. Having ministry time at the end is good because it allows for people who don't need ministry to just leave, while those who do can stay. However, there are sound spiritual reasons too. Starting with worship allows people to come in and shed the burdens they've accumulated over the course of the week. It allows me to refocus my thoughts on why I come to church and who God is to me. As to ministering to people last, people may not know that they need ministry before they're convicted by the message.

Do you see the similarities in these two comparisons (people feeling the Holy Spirit after hearing a suggestion and a worship service ordered for maximum impact)? There are spiritual reasons for both events, but there are equally good reasons that may completely omit God's work. It all boils down to two choices. Maybe we're all deceived. Our feelings have totally run away with us. The church leaders are engineering a grand deception and we have all been suckered right in. If I'm crying because I'm being prayed for powerfully, it's just because I don't have my act together yet or I'm just a weak person. The people who claim to have been healed supernaturally were either faking the illness or are faking the healing. On the occasions that I've been (accurately) prophesied over, it's just been either a lucky guess or I've just adapted the prophecy in my mind as necessary so it fits my life.

The other possibility is that it's all true. Our service has been optimized both for practicality and because it maximizes its spiritual impact. People really do feel the Holy Spirit, and God really does still to miraculous things in people's lives today.

With our problem set up, and two alternative hypotheses proposed, let's briefly look at some evidence to support either hypothesis. First of all, I have come to believe more and more that God has made us as integrated beings. Body, soul, and spirit are woven together more intricately than we think. Why not use theologically-sound psychology to optimize our worship? We use physiology for this - if the chairs aren't comfortable, people aren't going to come. We don't say that church is only for the "real Christians" that can put up with uncomfortable seating. Why should we discriminate against people who may need some worship time alone with God to listen better?

Another piece of evidence would be changed lives. If there's just a "Jesus high" that people get on by being manipulated by skillful preachers, then there probably won't be any lasting impact in their lives. They'll continue being the same people they were, broken and ugly. Again, this seems to be a fallacy. I have heard people testify to how their lives were messed up and broken and how they have been healed. Of course, this could all be a lie, which leads me to my next point...

...which is simple authenticity. If it was all just a big shell game, then all the folks who are on stage are probably different in "real life". They have to be "good examples" when they lead, but not any other time. Again, I'll call this one false. I've had the opportunity to interact with our church leaders in a variety of situations, and it sure seems like they're honest to who and how God has made them to be. It's not a front when they're on stage, it's who they really are.

All this so-called evidence is circumstantial. I recognize this. You can rationalize it away if you want. Maybe I'm naive. Maybe I just haven't seen the people in my church be totally real. You know what, though? I've made my decision. I choose to follow this path. I may be deceived, and it may all be just a shadow-world. However, in the words of C.S. Lewis's Puddleglum when speaking to a witch who claims that the world he has experienced is just a fraud,

---

"One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face on it. I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one more thing to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world that licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia."

---

I choose to live like a Holy Spirit-filled Christian. Even if there isn't a Holy Spirit, or if He doesn't work in our lives today (which I have strong evidence that He does), and even if I've just played into the hands of some twisted master conspiracy, I choose to live this way. Why? Because never before in my life have I felt as free, as loved, and as valued as I do when I've been held in God's arms. Because even if it's an illusion, it's a good one, and so help me God, I will spend the rest of my life pursuing it. It seems that most people have an addiction. I've chosen mine - Jesus and His love.

That's my choice. What will you choose?