A Bit of Hope

Efficiency has become the way we have defined success, using in this case the royal “we.” Granted God is by far the most efficient being in all of existence, the popular conceptions of it seem so contrary to His nature. It seems that when God said, “Let us make man in our own image!” the picture that almost appears is that of a lawyer, philosopher, and accountant standing around some blueprints attempting to hash out this newfangled monstrosity. Tireless effort thrown together ends up only in the creation rebelling and the conclave of Creator beings frustrated. Its times like this I wish my mind wasn’t cluttered with so much Gnostic and post-Freudian thought and I could actually get a better hold on beholding God. Don’t get me wrong those are not the only things to blame, we shan’t ignore the purple elephant of the fallen nature by any means but too much detachment has seemed to become the status quo and in far too many cases the golden calf.
The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit birthed all of the created order from the overflow of what they were, are, and will be which is the ineffable joyous immeasurable fountain of love. God has, for me in my upbringing, always seemed as if He were not quite sure what to do with creation. You had the angels and the demons, the elite being that really ruled over the humans; animals who the humans ruled over and were either cute or tasted good or neither; and then there were humans who were made in the image of God meaning that our physiological frame was in some way shape or form a vague comparison to His own. The Trinity was never really applied to anything with the exception of the time the word was actually used. Interchange amidst the Godhead was almost something unnecessary to divulge into or at least it was too noble a pursuit.
With such a detached view it is easy to miss the purpose of even existence. To be honest what had encompassed the years prior was more like communism than Christianity. We work and save people in order to get a pat on the back from God and when you do really well people will acknowledge what you are doing and you might get persecuted, only in the end to have the person realize how good a person you really are. If it came to it, martyrdom was always a high calling. I mean if Jesus could die a gruesome death why couldn’t we. In the end all that seemed left was just a vague picture of this huge mass singing songs for eternity on some shiny surface. Which I guess why the idea of Heaven terrified me so much, perpetual monotony never is appealing unless it is coupled with perpetual agony.
In the end all that I had been left with was the meaning of life was to worship God because He was God and that is what you did. I had heard stories of she kina type experiences and every now and then went to a service where people fell down. The height of encounter was either seeing something really cool or showing some form of emotion.
We were made for so much more. We truly were. Genesis says that we are made in the likeness of God and are to do our heavenly Father’s will. As sons and daughters our primary occupation is to be like our Father through our Brother Jesus Christ. Above all Jesus and God do not base their entire relationship around some strategy board moving people and angelic beings around but their primary occupation is being completely immersed in the love of each other and pouring that forth. At their right hand is pleasures forever more and the fullness of joy is in their presence. This mind you is the God who created music, color, monkeys, mountains, dancing, laughter, sex, relationship, human beings, the four living creatures, and everything else. The angels around His throne are not mindless drones perpetually yelling words God likes to hear but the stay due to the fact that God’s beauty far surpasses any articulation or comprehension. God does not create that which does not reflect His glory, and everything yearns for His rule and reign to be established. Rocks are capable of crying out praise and the Earth is groaning like a woman in labor waiting for God’s radiance to be unrestrained.
This is the God we worship. What a thousand sunrises cannot paint and what a thousand sonatas can articulate pales in comparison to the one who can lay the forest bare with a single blast from His nostrils. To think that we (assuming people are the only ones reading this not highly learned gorillas) were made to partake of that divine and glorious fellowship. I mean words like “glory” and “divine” have been so beaten into the ground that almost all meaning has been stripped from them. The cosmos have been stretched forth by His hand and God knows every movement of my heart. He sees when I wake up, He knows the words that come out of my mouth, He knows what moves me, He knows the sin I am going to commit minutes after I feel His presence deeply, He knows my days and orders my steps, He is coming to rule and reign, and He holds all things together with the power of His word. This is my God,
My God is love. My God is not a detached ruler of a vapid subjugation He mildly loathes. His ways are not our ways nor His thoughts our thoughts. Though our being reflects Him by nature He is not entirely like us. He is the God of communion and the God of Rest. How can one rest detached from others. He who seeks isolation seeks their own destruction. True rest is found in the deepest intimacy feeling secure in every area of your life, this is where the striving ceases.
God is so often looked at as a means to an end and He is only part of the end because that is what the contract we signed stipulates. However, He is the Beginning and the End. The cross was more than a big rubber stamp to declare “Forgiven” on our sin stained name tags but it was the unifying of all things. Jesus went to the furthest extent of pain and abandonment in order for us to enter into the divine fellowship of joy. Jesus came to redeem all and redemption is not just a mere legal standing but it is a reversal of the curse and will be fulfilled when He comes to rule and reign. This does not negate the pursuit of holiness and intimacy but spurs us forward. Jesus did not die for a quota but for a pure and spotless Bride, one in who He would not be unequally yoked to. The cry in our hearts which is a faint reflection of the one in God’s heart is one for total intimacy. There is a reason why Jesus did not say, “Go into the world and make converts,” but called the body to make disciples. We are to follow in His footsteps and not just obtain a shotgun message. In order to walk in the footsteps of Christ we need to be able to be as He is and enter into love, those who love Him are those who obey His commands.
His plan is not based on our whims or accomplishments. He is not critiquing humanity to see if they measure up to His standing. There is a reason why the meek and the poor and spirit are blessed. He is not holding His breath hoping that by some miracle we get everything right, but it is He Himself who is the one who is the Good Shepherd declaring the beginning from the end. His way is gentle and He leads with tenderness. Though He rules with resolve stronger than any iron fist He knows that we are but dust and does not see people as pawns in a game which He is locked in willing for casualties to be a flippant thing. He does not even delight in the death of the wicked but is a God that is longsuffering and came to suffer with us.
The darkness is passing and the true light is already shining. The law brings death and we are to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. He allows the rain to fall on the good and the wicked, this is His perfection. Justice comes forth from His throne and is surrounded by mercy. He does not demand a rigid mechanical obedience because robots are incapable of love, which is the only commandment. We have a High Priest, we have an Intercessor, we have a Friend who was tempted in every way and learned obedience through suffering in order to sympathize (suffer) with us. This is our boldness. This is our confidence. This is our righteous: Faith in Him who loved us.

My Hundredth Blog: A Premium Weez

Well, what do you know, 100 blog entries. Yup, that is some accomplishment I guess. Shoot I am currently celebrating this momentous occasion with a heapin cup of hot cocoa and gazing into my family's gas powered fire place. The brisk tint of fall has already seeped within my veins bringing nothing but joy to my already content demeanor. On a side not I think demeanor is a pretty boring word, it has a sophisticated sound about it but I think it is only really appropriate for describing a funeral or a coroner's tune fish sandwich.
Well it has been awhile since I have done any honest blogging, a poem here, some thoughts there and that is really about it. Sad to say for the most part the little blogging community I found myself reading went the way of the dodo bird and rapcore and straight up died, its a sad day. The only possible way to avenge such an atrocity is to find five dollars, but honestly, I would need to find atleast ten. A sleek Hamilton would do the trick I mean in this day and age it oculd nearly buy you a car... we do have such a lovely economy.
So an update on life. Amidst the hustle and occasional bustle of my life I have now begun to run sound at the Justice House of Prayer. It has been really fun. I have a meager three sets a week but I try and make the most of it. Granted I am a total newbie and each day I learn that I know even less than I thought I did , I love the fact that I actually effect the sound of some worship teams. I mean it makes me happy, especially at the JPR because the teams are so fresh and have not all conduced themselves into the almost generic IHOP sound. Granted there is a mass of variation within but once you step back it is just a gigantic swirl as an entity unto its own. I mean it is such a breath of freshb air to hear a man shred in fluid 80's style mean electirc guitar, it does the heart well. Along with the pancreas. There is a small chance that I may get the position of sound cordinator over there as well, it was offered to me but I have yet to hear anything back, which is fine with me because I am busy enough as it is with schoolwork.
Now on to school. Classes have been an absolute blast. I have been blessed to dive back into my old debate roots over both of the previous modules and thank God for that lovely kiss. Our class dynamic has been something to completely cherish. Last year I was in a class of about a hundred people and only really knew about a tenh of them. My classes now have twenty people in them and we are really beginning to bond. The Nightwatch FSM as a whole has been throwing down like fiends. God has truly birthed a community with us in the nights and it is something that is forerunning things which are coming to IHOP as a whole. A prophetic spirit has been riding with us and unity has become our defining line. The spirit of unity through the bond of peace flourishes greater than the monster weeds in my back yard and let me tell you that is a wonderful thing (yet I cringe about the yardwork waiting for me when I wake up.) We are with each other almost every night of the week building deep friendships and having good times.
This past week ten of us stayed up all day and went to the Omaha zoo. Apart from the catatonic beginning and ending it was a blast, well the catatonic parts were rather gnarly as well. I mean the shennanagins started right from the beginning when all the guys were greeted in the men's restroom by Josiah saying, "There is a woman in here and she promises she will not look." I mean, classic. She was trying to get her son out who seemed pretty adamant about not leaving. We explored all sorts of terrain from the desert to the rainforest. Two of the more memorable animals were the orangutans and the gorillas. The orangutans tried their hardest to clap, snap, and frown their way into getting food from Tiffany but they did not succeed. All the while the gibbon sitting next to them just stared into space and scratched his belly. In the land of gorillas our group gathered around the protective glass to gaze upon these wild and majestic creatures. Emily locked eyes with the alpha male and he bounded over to where she was and punched the glass as hard as he could. I was daze for about ten seconds and then my entire body was consumed with fear, gorillas my friend, are powerful creatures. The trip left me longing for two things: my own kids to run wild and be filled with wonder and enthusiasm AND the millenial kingdom to come so that we may freely dwell with animals and understand them.
As fall has arrived it is time to have definitive music for the season. Each of the prior falls have had their definitive sounds. 05 had the dulcet tones of Sufjan Stevens and the Danielson Famile. 06 was strictly mewithoutYou. However, I do have a few notable mentions for this year. Currently I have been jamming to the newest release by Maylene but my favorite discovery has been that of Woven Hand. Fronted by David Eugene Edwards, grandson of a holiness rider, brings not only some heavy "alterna-country" or "goth-folk" but also the fear of the Lord. Originally known for his other band Sixteen Horsepower, this is a force to truly be reckoned with. Another band I would love to display to the one or two people who may stumble across this blog is Gogol Bordello. Their frontman is the lead character in the movie Everything is Illuminated, which was a great film..... bearing in mind that the end is always sad when Christ is not involved.
So that is all for now. It has been a wild ride on this blog, let me tell ya. In a while I shall get back to throwing down theological heaviness, but until be blessed in Christ's name.

Grave Robber

High noon burns the sweat soaked eyes
Dusty brows litter the anxious street
Words are hushed where sleeping dogs lie
All silent when the drunk judge takes his seat
The convict comes down the aisle lookers in tow
Lays down his six shooters the loaded twelve
Peacemakers unsheather that the people didn't know
The Sons of God do not live on shelves

Lawyer started yelling as the preacher was preachin'
Mouthed closed as he took on the hell fire blaze
Bordellos and bars and other places he be teachin'
With a tongue like Bowie's knife the words never a haze
The jury was rigged he had each one hung
Human nature was the gamble for years been set up
The hearts of men wanting holy necks wrung
Plotting his fate with backwash in a bitter cup

Preacher smirks donning hangman's mask
Noose in hand points to the old oak tree
The oak never had any questions to ask
"Cursedbe the man who hangs from me!"
He steps forward to the executioner's laugh
Putting it on like a jewelled necklace
Smeeling in the distance the burning of chaff
Passion burned in the stone set face

Blackness surrounds the roaring fist
Recompense of the piper's receipt
Eternity hosts this flagrant mist
Death shrieked with the given release
Burning eyes with the heavy axe
Hand to handle waylaying the crushing blow
Violence fills the remorseless attack
The Hangin' tree falls with no seed to sow

Grave Robber
Hear the jingle jangle of his keys
Grave Robber
Shatterin' the proud man's kness
Grave Robber
Best do what he said
Grave Robber
Comin' to judge the quick and th' dead

Her touch was softer than usual tonight. Her cheek pressed against mine as her smile met my face. It had been a while since I had seen her but those green eyes are never easy to forget. She came out of nowhere for what seemed no apparent reason except o share this moment right now. A rendezvous with the mundane abruptly came to an end as the scent of her perfume floated my way, cinnamon and roses. Time and time again had we met, each time more appropriate than the one prior. Everything around us seemed to fade for just a moment. All that was left were the gray clouds above and the incoming mist. Hearts held in unison as her voice began to caress my ears. Each syllable dripped with honey and her breath smelled like sweet incense. Here we stood at the street corner exchanging sweet nothings into each other with our embrace locked within this suspension of time. I could feel her lips move against my cheek and my heart began to move faster and faster palpitating an opus with the speed of a freight train. Minutes passed like hours as we stood on that corner, it seemed the entire world passed by in that brief moment, nothing worth concerning ourselves with. We had each other. As soon as it began the moment ended. Words were never uttered as our eyes remained locked in repose. With a wink she vanished into the crowd knowing that our next reunion will be even more intimate. A tear of bittersweet joy ran down my cheek as my heart began to grown. She needed to go as did I but the parting had never been easy. I go my way and she goes her own as she continues to cry out in the street.

What You Talkin' About Willis?

To err in ones own mind draws too many fleeting glances from his own heart. The towers of men and empires of humanity are nothing more than flimsy cardboard providing shelter for the wealthy who perpetually feel homeless. The same log that burns in their fireplace is from the tree that holds years of memiores inscribed in noble thought. The fantasy of a broken creature remains fractured like its creator. Links are always missing like the Emperor's new clothes and he who sees is hanged from the noose of Lady Goodiva. He who is begets and that which has come is indeed begotten, yet only one came from the Father. Mistakes of the ages plot out a roas map for the astute to follow. Blind lead the blind but there is one who searches the deep things of the heart, which is deceitful above all things. Good intentions have led to an ocean floor covered with millstones and their partners. He who searches man searches the deep things of God and continues to flow in creativity even after the sixth day. Mountains of ambiguity get laid bare from the nostrils of He who declares the beginning from the end and all that remains is the mountain of perfection. It is He who loved us to the end which beckons all to meet it's looming presence. Rain falls on the righteous and the wicked all the while roads are being carved up the mountain scented like clusters of myrhh. Tunnels are broken open by the heart of John Henry while the peak towers above the plain of delusion. The darkness ever darker and the light becoming rare, flickers of sapphire warm those who have pursued the truth. The end is coming and the days are drawing shorter, these days are evil. Oh what glory waits for the few is but a flicker as a hush directs us to the myriad singing Handel's Messiah.

Exhibit Hall

Flourescent lighting has become what I see when I close my eyes. The dull hum illuminating what seems to be empty halls. Once looking like a pristine museum has succumbed to the monotony of the custodian who resided there. Pictures have faded and sculptures were left cracked. Yet day in and day out the floors are swept and the brass fixtures are polished to reflective brilliance. At night the routine is once again done and then come morning is left ready for a whole new chorus of messes and smudges. Yet day in and day out with little recognition he does his job. Always with a smile with eyes concealing an aura of euphoric glow. If you still your self for long enough you can even hear him whistling. Few wander into his closet and are merely content with his nightly doings. Inside the thick mahoghany door lie a world beyond recognition; one of murals, sketches, and sculptures reflecting vivid color and life. With each stroke and curve beauty is immortalized. Few have seen and few have asked, and he longs to let the beauty be held.

The Raggamuffin Silhouette

Broken streaks once again flood the face of the vessel trying once again to serve a purpose. Inclination of the former years dwindle in hindsight yet a vacant light at the end of the tunnel seem to spur life to bloom once again. The broken shards litter the ground like a poorly made mosaic coloring the black asphalt with chipped shades of copper. Angels hum above breaking the silence, Handel’s Messiah in brief synopsis energizing the air hat blows in and out of the cracks that seemed to have marked our subject in the onslaught of fluid thought encircling the dreams that the jar once held. Awakening once again to a new dawn spliced by rain clouds and rainbows the permeation of the translucent colors embody the warmth that heaven sees. The skies open and heaven’s tears begin to pour. Each one collected in the vase that stands as a silhouette in the vacant landscape. The ground is saturated with new life and flowers spring out from under the pavement. A trickle is contained within the vessel as a voice from heaven says, “Well done!”