Ordered Chaos

making a splash

God's been wooing Julie...and she finally responded at Summit's Beach Baptism last weekend. I was crying behind my sunglasses when this girl got dunked.

I don't know all of Kristin's story yet, but I love that I got to be a part of this piece of it.

Chris and Christy get married in November...I can't think of a better way to prepare for such a big commitment than by making public their devotion to Someone so much bigger.

I love who God's chosen to let me get to know.

More beach baptism pictures are up on my Flickr page.

Related sidenote: Isaac, I too sweat bullets during open mic time. But I cry tears, too. Because people's stories matter....and the good ones — the ones that, say, feature a baptism — stand to remind us why...

Easter worship

I stopped mid-run this morning to swing on a swing set.

And it turned into the coolest, most authentic worship experience I think I'll have this Easter weekend. As I walked toward the empty playground, Chris Tomlin's Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone) shuffled onto my ipod. And as I found my plastic seat and set about climbing toward the sky, I started to listen to the lyrics.

Then I started to feel the lyrics. And let my mind sink into them and sing them. For four very sacred minutes, everything else was stripped away....

I was sitting on a swing set in the middle of suburbia, sweaty and solo but every ounce of me was kneeling at the feet of Jesus silently echoing Tomlin's words, struck by the Truth they purvey.

I closed my eyes and felt only the motion of the swing, the brush of a breeze in my hair, and the warmth of the sun on my face. Leaned back and opened my eyes, staring in awe at the sun through the tree branches above. Everything I felt and smelt and touched and saw and heard was brilliant, intense...holy and beautiful.

That experience was tailor-made for me. Meant for me. God knows I'm likely to bow in wonder when I'm outdoors. That activity is where I'm most authentic. That I'd be distracted elsewhere. He knows the songs that speak to my heart and go right to my the gut. And He knew it was going to take all of that to get me where I wanted to be with Him this weekend.

So, I'm grateful. Grateful that He was willing and able then and now and will continue to be so, even though I don't deserve it. And I'm hopeful that He'll get you kneeling at His feet this weekend, too. Happy Easter my friends.

Currently watching: Twilight courtesy of my Netflix queue (shut it.)

Good Friday

There's a great post on ragamuffinsoul.com today. He's asking the questions every church employee, pastor, ministry volunteer and churchy von churcherson should be wondering out loud in strategy meetings and in small groups and in whispered prayer during personal quiet times.

They are (or should be) bludgeoning questions. But the truth remains that all the wondering doesn't amount to a hill of beans if we don't do anything with our conclusions.

All the Scripture I've read this past Holy Week keeps driving home the related point that Jesus didn't climb a hill and die on a cross to create corporate or comfortable or even kind Christianity. He thought a future of regular lives lived in humility and service and extraordinary love and shocking selflessness and uncanny grace amounted to a hill he could willingly die on.

And that's the hill I'm staring at today. It's the hill I'm wondering about. And I'm hoping you are too...

Currently playing: "1901" by Phoenix
Currently watching: Slumdog Millionaire

on the tension in progress

I am not what I ought to be. I am not what I want to be. I am not what I hope to be. But still, I am not what I used to be. And by the grace of God, I am what I am. — John Newton

Forgive me for highlighting such a well known, oft-quoted quote, again. I almost didn't. But it came to mind as I was journaling during a recent "quiet time," and it hit me how much more true Newton's statement seems to have become as I'm getting older. Or maybe it's just that I'm getting wiser?! (Here's hoping). Either way, I find that a lot of what's peppered my conversations and posts and scribblings in past months is tied up in nearly all of Newton's five short sentences...

Lately, my lack of forward motion has proved UNBELIEVABLY frustrating. I have tried everything (productive) to erase the tension between who I am and who I think I can/should be. Yet, running parallel to all the frustration and my pitiful efforts is the somewhat fragile knowledge that I may be standing still on purpose and as part of God's purpose — a direct result of His grace. (Though, honestly, such knowledge doesn't make the waiting any less disconcerting, yet...boo.)

I seriously don't know what God's doing or what's next (I've stopped trying to hazard a guess), but maybe sometimes we have to stand still in shifting sand to even have a chance of finding out. Maybe sometimes we have to walk the rocks to see the mountain view (thank you Caedmon's). Or wander through the wilderness to learn to survive. Maybe it's simply that sometimes we need to spend time in the desert if we have any hope of truly appreciating living water. Or maybe it's actually that progress isn't really the point...that it never has been....

I don't know. Probably depends on your definition of "progress." Maybe mine needs an overhaul. Maybe that's the point. But I'm just thinking out loud on a Friday afternoon :)

"I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." — Philippians 1:3-6

It's time to go home. TGIF, baby!

Currently playing: "Loco" by David Lee Murphy

in love with potential

"God is far more concerned with us reaching our own potential than we are. God cares far more than we will ever know about us becoming who we were originally designed to be...." — Josh Loveless in message #1 of the Relent and Respond series

We just need to quit pushing against him with our own agenda.

Even if it's a "good" agenda.

Sometimes I kind of forget I'm a sinner. What with my lack of heavy drinking, sexing, and gratuitous violence. But the truth of the matter is that I'm really pretty selfish. Totally self-centered. I lead a very self-absorbed existence. And it's really not fair to a creative God in love with the potential of His people.

Thankfully, He's also a powerful God. A patient one. He can/will override me. Change me. Use me. Despite my obvious and often driving flaws.

Whew.

"You've heard it said.....but...."

Recently, I've been attempting to write middle-school curriculum about Jesus and the kingdom He sought to usher in. It's been interesting, to expect to have to "dumb down" what I already know, just to find out during the process that I actually needed to re-learn some of the fundamentals myself....

In prep for writing, I've been hanging out in the Gospels and spending a lot of time on the mount as Jesus preaches in Matthew 5-7. In those couple of chapters, Jesus rebukes the established way of thinking again and again, challenging the masses with a new way to approach and think about life.

And as a result of my reading — convicted by how relevant His words remain, I feel like I need God to stand on a mountain and challenge my worldview more regularly. I need him to say, "You have heard it was said....but...." and turn my world upside down every single day. Because — like those ancient Jews — I'm certain I'm regularly situating parts of my life around fruitless endeavors and age-old lies.

Like the one about how things are supposed to get easier as I go along in life. Or the ones about what brings happiness — or even the importance of it. And how about that lie about how we should make it a goal to be more comfortable? Or the ones about the necessity of being more successful, richer and well-respected by certain characters? The world tells me that there's a certain order to doing things, a checklist to measure against, and a guaranteed feeling of satisfaction in the ends.

But none of that stuff is in the Bible. I mean, really, none of it. Yet, we spend our entire lives subscribing to/accepting an established norm, working toward it, comparing ourselves against it....and then always finding ourselves disheveled and disappointed by it. How eerie is it that some wrong ideas are so ingrained, we don't even realize how deeply they're affecting us? Even us kids that color outside of the lines.

You'd think we'd learn, right? Ugh.

Well, here's hoping some middle-schoolers might.

Unrelated: My weekend was pretty darn fabulous. Pics up on Flickr. Think we might be camping and rope swingin' it next weekend....we'll see!

Currently playing: "Free Fallin" by John Mayer (Live and acoustic on the Where the Light Is album)
Currently reading: The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne (again)

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"The historian's test of an individual's greatness is 'What did he leave to grow?' Did he start men to thinking along fresh lines with a vigor that persisted after him? By this test Jesus stands first." — H.G. Wells

guilty as charged

One of my pastors, in chatting with the congregation about sin this weekend, said (and I'm paraphrasing and expounding) that while some of us are caught up in sin, and others of us are holding on to sin, most of us are actually guilty of simply pulling God-inspired vision back toward our reality....and that our reality is always less than the good God has planned for his kids or his Kingdom. It pales in comparison. It's meeting a fraction of our potential. A fraction of His. And that the resulting disillusionment, discouragement, and indifference breaks the heart of God.

And I thought that was a good point.

Currently playing: "God Love Her" by Toby Keith
Currently reading: Northland's new website. Conceived and launched in a record two months-ish. Check it. Props to the boys that made it happen. They know who they are :)

powerful

I was in New York last weekend and made it a point to check out my old pastor at his new church (Jon Tyson at Trinity Grace Church) while we were there.

It was a far cry from the candle-lit Gallery at Discovery of years past...my girlfriends and I found ourselves sitting in hard New York County public school auditorium seats and staring down at musicians and church leadership standing behind marred black music stands. There was no purposeful lighting, no noticeably awesome sound system, and no real agenda other than Jesus and resulting transformation. Jon stood in the cold room and simply talked about power, from a perspective I'd never even pondered.  And maybe that experience, paired with the time I've spent in Acts recently, is why Ben Arment's funny little blog post, titled "Powerless," rang poignant this week as I read it:

"J:  Listen, when you go into someone's house, stay there until it's time to leave. Don't bring any food or clothes or anything. If the people don't welcome you, then go outside the town and shake the dust off your feet.
P:  Well, we thought we'd just hand-out flyers. Put them on door knobs and all. Probably won't even run into anyone. Figure we'll knock it out in about three hours.
J:  What do you mean, flyers?
P:  You know, like, papyrus that says how you're gonna be at the 'gogue' this weekend.
J:  But what about the power and authority I gave you?
P:  We used it on graphic design.
J:  On what?
P:  How 'bout a wheat buy-down?"

in light of tragedy

A really crappy thing happened to a friend of a good friend last night.  And my friend, blogging about the experience, seems to have come to some very healthy realizations, as a result. And while it just sucks that misfortune is often the catalyst to radical transformation, I can't help but praise God for being willing to rain down truth in the tragedy.

An excerpt from my friend's blog entry (which took the form of a letter to his hospitalized friend), as he grappled with the shock and anger associated with uncontrollable circumstances:

...I realized that [God] was present in [the] situation, that He loves you, He loves me, and that He even loves fucking bastards, even though we’re too busy running oftentimes to realize it...

See what he did there? "We're too busy running..."

My friend lumped himself with the object of his anger — the stranger whose hit-and-run action severely damaged his friend. I love that. I love that my friend wrote that, because I was forced to lump myself there, too. I'm a big fat sinner in my own right. And yet God loved, loves, and will love me? Yes, yes, yes.

I hate that it takes such a comparison to evil to help me clearly see what's good..to see Who's good..and to remember why it all matters.

And while I often hate His methods of doing so, I love that God's still willing to remind us that He's reaching for us...

I think my friend's friend is going to get better. God's going to heal her.  And I think my friend is going to heal, too. Broken — even seemingly unrelated - places within him are going to find new life through this crap. I'm certain he's going to discover joy in his tomorrows as a result of the horrors of last night.

I truly believe that. Mostly because I have to.

torn.

"I love the movement taking place in the American Church right now. A new generation is questioning whether the church is living biblically or even wants to. The big question is: Will this generation just continue pointing the finger at the church or will they actually live Christ-like lives and make disciples? For now, most of them are arrogantly pointing out the faults of the church without being the solution.

Adam tried to use the excuse, "it was that woman you gave me." Today, many blame their apathy on "that church you gave me." The truth is — neither your pastor nor your church is keeping you from biblical Christianity. I've found that churches typically allow you to give as much as you want, pray as much as you want, live as much like Christ as you want. You're also free to be the example and tell your friends to follow....

We're all familiar with Matthew 28:18-20. We've heard so many messages on it that we now tune out sermons on the great commission. What's amazing is that in spite of all the sermons, most of the people reading this journal have never made a disciple. Have you?"

— Francis Chan

Currently playing: "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me" by Billy Joel
Currently reading: The Condition by Jennifer Haigh

"he probably got sunburnt"

Those words - spoken at STATUS tonight - got me thinking about the shortest verse in the Bible.  The easiest to memorize:

Jesus wept.

Jesus shed tears. I like to think he sobbed occasionally. That it was the gross, body-wracking, snot-producing, puffy, blood-shot, red eyes kind of cry.

I like to think that he felt it. What we feel. That a song could make him want to dance. That raising somebody from the dead got his heart beating really fast. I like to think he had sweaty palms when he got up on that mountain to preach. I love Jesus pissed off at the mockery his neighbors had made of the temple. I like to think that Jesus felt a sense of satisfaction from working with his hands - that he smiled when he finished building a chair. I love to think that he looked forward to sitting around a campfire with his buddies and winding down the day with a glass of wine (or grape juice, whichever makes you feel better)....I love that Jesus wept.

I don't know - maybe I'm being heretical.  But maybe I'm not.

See, after hanging out with STATUS for their eight-month series on the life of Jesus (concluding next weekend), I'm convinced Jesus was a little bit more human than I thought.

Turns out He was a little bit sarcastic. I've learned that He was highly entertained by his friends.  And that He found himself annoyed by some of the choices people made. There's proof that He was excited by the work He was made to do. And after an eight-month examination of the interactions, monologues, and conversations of Jesus, I've come to understand that he had charisma and chemistry and an approachability to his demeanor. I've discovered that he believed in the power of words and the emotional tug of a good story told.  I know He understood the necessity of taking a breather and getting to know people He appeared to have nothing in common with.  Dude, even Jesus had to deal with being single in a culture that put a whole lot of stock in the marriage market.

It's a big shocker, but umm, well,...uh, it turns out Jesus was human. Duh, I knew that.  But I only just recently learned that I didn't know that.

It took eight months, but I'm finally beginning to understand why it should mean so much to me that God came to earth and put skin on. That he chose not to have supernatural skin, but real, human skin.  You know - the kind of skin that burns in the sun.

Like mine.  Like yours.

Currently watching: John Adams (Part 2 of 7)

on chasing life and people

Chad came into town this weekend.

He's the guy that none of us knew prior to our trip to Africa, but that I think most of us thought a lot of and about at the end of our trip. So, of course, we celebrated his temporary presence in O-town. We ate. Danced. Punched things. Watched football. Churched.  We had good times with an awesome guy.

Monday he made his way back to the ATL.

But then today?  Well, today we get a very cool (long!) email from the guy. In it he was honest and vulnerable and real. Funny, too.  More than anything else, he was encouraging. He pretty much told us Summit/Malawi kids that we mattered. Matter. Without saying as much, he reminded us that our God's for community and connection and for the change that results when Christ's at the center of it all...

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Currently reading: In a Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day by Mark Batterson

"the mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a Heaven out of Hell, a Hell of Heaven" - Milton

how to grow up without growing old

As I was writing a sermon synopsis last week for the weekend's service about being childlike, referencing God's fondness for children, I found myself thinking of the story in Matthew 18:

[Jesus] called a little child and had him stand among [He and the disciples]. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven..."

I've always liked the idea of being childlike — maintaining curiosity, and playfulness, and striding toward being carefree in the midst of chaos.  And sometimes I've got being a big kid nailed. It's not unusual to find me swinging on the swing set here at work or begging my friends to set up a slip n' slide or getting crazy excited about something trivial. And dude, I can whine with the best of 'em.

But for as often as I'm being a kid and thinking about what it means to enter the Kingdom as one, I was reminded by Trent Sheppard a couple of weeks back that I keep missing Jesus' point. "Jesus was basically saying [in Matthew], 'The way you're going to enter the Kingdom is if you trust me in the same way these children do.' See, Jesus knew that people were not going to understand his actions. And what he was saying to them was basically this: 'Even though something is about to happen that you don't understand, you have got to trust me. You've got to trust me. And the way into my Kingdom is trusting me — even when sometimes you don't understand — like these children do.'"

Rob Bell summed it up well in one of his sermons this year at Mars Hill: "Central to entering the kingdom like a child is entrusting [that which is owning head space, gripping your heart, or draining you by the moment] to God and saying 'I'm not going to let that worry, that stress, that anxiety own me.'"

Kids don't think much about the future. To them, it's a vague concept.  They focus on the here and now — they are forever present.  But they are free to be so focused on the moment because they instinctually trust someone.  Without knowing the particulars, they are confident that they will be provided for, taken care of and directed down the right path...so they wake up enchanted by the day. Imagine waking up and never wanting to go back to bed...

See, the truth is, I have trust issues when it comes to God. Whether it's the curse of being capable or the result of cynicism, I find it unbelievably hard to sincerely trust God with my today and my tomorrows. Sometimes it's even hard to wrap my head around the idea that he was at work in my yesterdays.

But I'm trying. Daily I'm asking Him to help me trust.  Because I really want into the Kingdom. And I'd like to help usher it in down here on Earth without ever thinking twice.

Besides that, kids are way more joyful than adults, anyway. They have a whole lot more fun.

:)

Currently playing: "If I Ever Leave This World Alive" by Flogging Molly

the view from heaven

Maybe you've heard, maybe you haven't:  Louie Giglio - the guy behind Passion, Passion Conferences, Six Step Records, and all that 268 Generation awesomeness - is starting a new church in Atlanta with Chris Tomlin - Passion Church. (Find out more here)

If you know my testimony at all, you know it's wrapped up tightly in Louie's messages and the songs of the Passion movement, so I'm beyond stoked for the young people of Atlanta...

And Giglio spoke at Buckhead Church this past weekend kind of in prep for and in lieu of the recent announcement. He talked about Grace and shared a story about halfway in that I feel like maybe everyone should hear.  It's a reminder about the power of God and our purpose in still being here, on Earth, as His.

It made ME cry.  So you KNOW it's gotta be good.

Check it here. (or e-mail me and I'll send it your way)

The take-away:  Don't count God out. He moves mountains. Regularly. With ease. Even for people like you. Through people like you. Because He loves. Better than anyone or anything you know. Oh, and also, that "Mighty to Save" is the best worship song out there right now.

Currently playing: "View From Heaven" by Yellowcard

i drink from the keg of glory

"When you're making progress is when you'll be most likely to be inclined to quit."
— Isaac Hunter (via this past weekend's sermon)

"Wanting to quit is a sign of success."
— Tommy Barnett (via a friend's Twitter)

Add those words to a blog post I read just the other day, and I think it's safe to assume God's trying to get my attention. 'Cause I don't know about you, but when you've got the same message coming at you from different directions and through different channels, I tend to think it's not coincidence...

I've been wanting to check out for months now. Seriously, fading into the background, settling for what is, staying where I'm comfortable...it all sounds so fabulous — I have a dramatic desire to quit reacting. I'd like to take a break, avoid the hurt, resist the change. It's my flesh and it's a constant force to be reckoned with.

But more powerful is that part of me that can't let potential go unrealized. Co-existing with the inclination to quit is an itch to find out what could happen if I try. What can be if I step up to the plate (despite that I hate baseball), open my eyes (even when it seems too scary), and extend my hands? What if I actually trust God to take care of me and it and them? My curiosity is somewhat insatiable. It's why I went to Africa. It's why I'm flying to TX for a marathon. It's why I said okay to a 150-mile bike ride. More importantly, it's why I'm volunteering with the kids, writing those paragraphs, and getting up early to run with those guys. It's why I'm not picky about who I get a chance to get to know. It's why I'm smiling at the relationships I don't understand, opening doors that I'd rather slam shut for good, and tuning my guitar for the first time in ages....

Things aren't really easy. I often don't understand. I'm tired pretty much all the time. My schedule is ridiculous. And sometimes I really want to quit.

But I can't.

I won't.

Because victory is mine.  Because it's His.

Currently playing: "Put a Girl In It" by Brooks & Dunn. Love this song. SO MUCH.

the old man and the sea

Words from God via Steven Furtick's blog today:

If life has got you in some deep water right now, one of the worst things you can do is thrash around and try to jump the waves yourself. The only thing worse than that is to sit around on the shore and miss out on the action because you don’t want to get in over your head.

Grab on to God with all you’ve got. Have faith that He can lift you high above your circumstances and fears. He usually doesn’t do it until the wave is just about to wash over you.  [But] that’s the best part…

Currently playing: "My Hope" by David Crowder Band

i'm excited

I knew it was coming, but it was still thrilling to hear it announced on stage: Summit is going multi-site. In about eighteen months. In some yet undecided locations.

Church leadership spent about forty minutes kicking around a very solid idea tonight - unveiling the details that are known and being honest about the chunks that are still missing.  There was a lot of Q&A....a comfortable dialogue between leadership and invested congregation.  Then there was a chance to pray about what's coming and for who we know....circling in everything said and done around why it all matters.

I like that the leadership guys are passionate and pursuant and expectant.  But I also like that they're taking slow steps toward a very hefty goal - doing the research, and admitting they don't yet have all the answers.  That's humility and wisdom and pretty fertile ground for God to do some incredibly mind-bending/heart-altering stuff.

Needless to say, I'm excited.

Currently watching: Michael Clayton

baptism

It makes me cry. It's what it symbolizes that pretty much always makes me weep. A commitment to a God that promises new life.  An action that indicates transformation. And when it happens inside a community of people that truly understands the gravity of making a choice for freedom AND the greatness of a God that makes it possible?  Well, that's pretty much the most beautiful thing. Ever.

And prime material for an emotional video that can truly inspire....

Mark Batterson (National Community Church in DC) closed his talk at The Whiteboard Sessions today with a baptism video from his church (I've been following the conference online here).  See it below.  And then head on over to Summit's Facebook page (unfortunately, you have to be signed in to Facebook) and check out the video of their most recent Beach Baptism.

If you don't get teary-eyed, you are a robot.  :)



Currently playing: Coldplay.

once was blind

The Awareness Test. You've no doubt seen it by now. But click play anyway.

It's worth another look. Because the lesson is a good one. Yea, it's all "look out for cyclists" (especially since I'm one of them now), but maybe we should all start expecting God to surprise our eyes in other ways, too. To surprise us, period. Because maybe it's a little bit like Carrie Underwood keeps singing about: what you've been out there searching for forever is in your hands. Or maybe it's not — maybe you've gotta get your head out of your butt and start looking beyond what immediately surrounds (even if it's good. 'cause, truth be told, you might be missing out on great). I think it works both ways. And, admittedly, it's hard to wrap your head around looking for something you don't even know you're supposed to be looking for, right?

Still, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be blind, steely and unaware of what God's got for me. So, maybe our daily prayer actually needs to be something like the lyrics from that one (overplayed and totally painful) worship song: Jesus, open the eyes of my heart. [Because] I (desperately) want to see You.

I want to see Him. I want to see Him working. I want to walk toward where He's at. Because I really want to be a part of it. I want to be so aware of what He's doing, that I can't help but be moved to be a part of it. To be near it. And to hold on to it when I recognize I'm compelled by it.

So, here's to not missing out by being more aware. More expectant.

Currently playing: "Amazing Grace" by Dropkick Murphys

i love peter

32 miles in 2 hours. Felt great. Easy, even. My bike is pretty much amazing. The seat is not. I'm certain Satan engineered it. Still, the time spent with the bros on the West Orange Trail were good minutes.

But the ride made it so I couldn't hit Summit.

But it enabled me to head to STATUS.

Trent Sheppard spoke. He's really good. Like, I'll listen to the message another two times when they make the podcast live on Monday just so I can wrap my head around all that he was saying kind of good.

He talked about Christ's humanity and then took a look at Peter's — spent a majority of the talk chatting about why Peter might have been chosen by God to be the guy that'd lead the early church. Got all us young adults thinking about risk and failure and being the kind of people that don't give up. Reminded me that God wants people that get back up when they get embarrassed/disappointed, that charge forward — straight through the awkward situations, and take constant action toward (and because of) Love.

It was a good monologue, because it engaged our hearts in a dialogue with God about the kind of people we are and might want to be.

Point: if you do nothing else this week, take thirty minutes and check out the message for yourself.