Rocks

My family has a lake house located in upstate New York on one of the five finger lakes.  If you walk outside of our lake house and down about a quarter of a mile you will find a creek that begins somewhere and empties out into the freezing lake.  If you happen to follow the creek up from where it empties into the lake you will eventually dead end into the bottom of a water fall.  It takes about two miles or so to reach the bottom of the first of many waterfalls and when you arrive you are taken aback back the sheer beauty of the creation.

One of my favorite things to do is to climb up to the base of the waterfall where there is a little pool that collects and filters the running water coming off the rocks with amazing force.  The pool stretches eight feet wide, six feet long, and God only knows how deep.  The water is colder than cold and has a clear brown color to it.  Just on the other side of the pool and just before you fall off a smaller waterfall about six feet tall, there sits a flat rock, it stands one inch above the cascading water and is around four feet in diameter.  It is a dangerous place to walk out on because of the rushing water and the slippery surface, a wrong step could send you falling those six feet to the rocks beneath.  However, there is something I love to experience when I am alone at the base of this waterfall.  I love to walk out on those slippery rocks, sit down in the cold water, and feel the rush and sprays of the chilling water as it thrashes off the rocks and sprays into my face.  There is a rushing wind that helps the spraying water travel farther than if the water simply fell down on its own.  

As I sit there on my rock I close my eyes and feel the rushing wind and the spraying mist and listen to the sound of the crashing and thrashing water all around me.  There comes, in these moments, feelings of something greater than myself, something Holy and also terrifying at the same time and I get a sense of angels standing around me, guarding this masterpiece created and formed my God Himself.

Last week I journeyed on a hike to this sacred place.  After my time alone by the water and wind I journeyed back down the flowing creek.  As I walked along I noticed the pools of standing water I found laying on top of massive boulders.  I reached into the flowing water and picked up little stones and I thought about how these stones used to be a part of something much larger and far greater.  These stones were once a part of a massive mountain, after being thrashed and beaten by the water and the wind and the elements they had become separated and found themselves at the bottom of a cold creek.  I picked up a large rock that was shaped like an egg and was the size of a football.  I picked the rock up and threw it as high into the air as I could and waited for it to smash into pieces against the ground.  Eventually it split precisely in half and as I looked inside I knew that I was the first person to stare into the center of this formation  in literally thousands of years and that was humbling to think, here was something forged over centuries, made by the wind and the water and the heat and the cold and the surrounding elements.  A rock that had been created millions of years ago and was what it was because of the trials it had endured.  It was not ground to powder, it was still big and still strong.

In my life I want God to work in me rather quickly.  I want the millions of years of process to be condensed into a single prayer or a single encounter or a single church service.  While there are times when God will change me in a moment, there is still a process to endure, there is still a life to walk out, there are still elements I must face that will not grind me into a powder but will shape me and form me and make me who I will eventually become.  The trials I face today will only make me who I am tomorrow.  

What process have we avoided in life because the pain was too strong?  What elements do we need to experience that we have ran from because we were insecure?  How can we embrace the process for change and not lose ourselves along the way?

My City

I have recently moved back home, Syracuse New York....I think I already told you about that.  

I love being back home.  The sights, the smells, the air, the people, being closer to my family, everything about this city I love.  Four years ago I began to hate my city and almost everything about it.  I hated the sights, the air, almost all the people, and just about everything else.  I hated this city so much that I dreamed of making my escape, I did nothing except talk about and read about how much I needed to move and leave and run far, far away to find myself.  Well, I am not sure if I found myself over the last two years or not but I have changed.

I have been driving around the city, looking at all the new businesses, noticing the older buildings that have been upgraded and changed, the older stores that have finally closed down and shut their doors after years of struggling.  I have connected again with old friends and found ways in how they have grown and in ways they have stayed the same.  The roads still have potholes, which makes driving sometimes frustrating.  There are still worse parts of the city than others.  My favorite tea shop has adjusted their culture a bit and there are more people sitting inside than I would care for.  And although things have changed, there is still a familiarity within the belly of the city that I love.  The air is cool and the scenery is still beyond enjoyable.  The streets still hold some of my best and some of my worst memories, familiar streets are hard to turn down because of those memories, but I still love my city, my home.

As I drove home the other night from visiting with friends, I played a soft song, hung my arm out the window, and smoked my pipe, and I couldn't help but connect myself and my life to the life of my city.  

I have been gone for two years and in that time both myself and my city have changed.  Parts of us have shut down and closed up shop, we have both matured in that way.  Myself and my city have made upgrades in certain area's, we have restored our foundations and thrown some paint on our exterior.  And myself and my city have opened new places and new spaces.  

I have come home, not with my tail tucked between my legs, but with an understanding that life is moving forward and progressing and I need to love myself enough and respect myself enough to keep from judging who I am and what I need to work on in my life.

One of the more difficult aspects of being a christian is knowing and being able to hold back judgement, especially directed at myself.  I would say that I am my best and worst critic, I have a natural ability to point out my own flaws and bully myself into change.  It is too easy to look around and notice those things in my life I want changed.  But I don't know if that is what I should be engaging in, I don't know if that is the best use of my time and ability.  

Instead of looking where I am currently and dreaming about my escape maybe I should just drive around with my window rolled down and look at the new additions, notice the places and spaces that have been closed, appreciate that upgrades.  Essentially, maybe I should have more grace for myself.  I can look at myself from a distance and appreciate who I am, where I have come from, and know where I am going, or at least where I am going in the moment.  Above all else, I think this is how Jesus would want me to view myself.  As someone who is solid, someone who has a lot to offer, someone who has made changes in some area's and upgraded other area's and has even closed down shop in the places that were just not working for anyone.  I think Jesus would want me to be more content with who I am and He would want me to stop trying to plan my escape and He would want me to stop criticizing myself. 

So here is to taking a drive around your city.  Rolling down your window, hanging your arm outside, listening to a familiar song, and taking everything in and being okay with where you are.

The Swing of an Axe

There are many benefits to living back in Syracuse New York, too many to count.  Four of those benefits are my dear friends, the Choat's.  The man of the Choat household is my best friend, Junky Joe.  Junky Joe is one of one children born to his mother and father a number of years ago.  He was raised in Bakersfield California until moving to Syracuse with his family multiple years ago.  Last year the mother and father of Junky Joe moved to Syracuse New York so they could be closer to their child and his family.

I have been assisting Junky Joe lately, a small price to pay for all the love and affection he and his family have given me throughout the years, by chopping wood for the smoker he uses to cook various meats and other foods.

This past Sunday I went over to the Choat household to visit with the family.  After a certain amount of time the father and mother of Junky Joe came to visit with their family as well.  The three of us men were sitting outside on the back deck and admiring a new wood splitter that Junky Joe had purchased to replace his firman's axe.  As we talked about the new wood splitter I decided to walk down there and give the new thing a try.  I walked out and grabbed a log of wood from the pile against the garage and marched it over to the chopping block.  The log I grabbed had a nasty knot shooting out of the bottom of it and as the other two men walked down to join me they wondered out loud if I should put this one back and grab another log from the pile.  But I had already raised the heavy wood splitter over my shoulder and the log was already standing, looking into my eyes and giving me dirty looks, and there is something that happens when a man holds something heavy and sharp, he has to prove his manhood by swinging the hardened steel and breaking something in his path.  

What seemed like 45 minutes after the first swing was swung, the three of us men still stood taking turns trying to break and show this log who possessed the real strength.  In the battle of Man vs. Wood man always wins...Always.

It was my turn to swing the fireman's axe and show that log who was boss.  I swung down on the inferior and silly log beneath me and then pulled the blade from the hardened wood.  The father of Junky Joe said something to the effect of "Wow, that boy sure is accurate!"  It was nothing, really.  I swung the axe and hoped as the blade swooshed towards the log that I would actually hit my mark and not skim the side and accidentally cut my foot off in the process.  Apparently I did something right, something good, something successful because the father of Junky Joe was so impressed that he made mention of it out loud in the moment with me standing there listening.  

Today, 3 days later, I was swinging that same wood splitter and chopping wooden logs for the smoker of Junky Joe.  Every time I swung the handle I could hear what that old man said Sunday afternoon.  I thought how accurate I was with the axe and how I needed to improve, I needed to continue to be accurate.  With every swing of the handle I felt powerful, I felt like I was accomplishing something, I felt like I was good at something. I can remember as a little boy playing basketball and imaging that I was starting for the New York Knicks, all eyes in the entire stadium were on me.  Every time I went for a lay-up in the school gymnasium I could see the flashes of camera lights in the arena catching my picture.  

The father of Junky Joe said words about me on Sunday that encouraged me, they lifted me up, they made me feel amazing, and they have stuck with me now 3 days later.  I am good at something, so good in fact that an old oil man from Bakersfield California noticed and said so.  It is like hitting the winning home run, scoring the winning touchdown, winning the game for the home team.

Such simple words presented in an innocent and simple way have had such an impact on my heart.  I am good at something... I am really good at something.

I can only wonder how much more important my words are to those closer to me.  Words can sometimes lose value when we use them too often, that's one of the problems with words, it can be difficult to gauge what the current value of each word is in the moment.

I suppose the simple reality here is that I need to be more honest, more true, more intentional, more heartfelt.  I need to choose better words that lift hearts and open minds and I need to suffocate those words that break and wound and pull down. 

 

Grace for myself

Recently I have moved back to Syracuse New York the place I would consider my home.  I have lived in 5 different states and 7 different cities throughout my life but I consider Syracuse to be my home sweet home.  

The decision to move came very abruptly.  Without divulging any of the details I will simply say there came a time when I was made aware of things in my heart that I did not know still existed and I knew I needed to take care of them and make sure they never came back again.  That may sound a little dramatic, but it is true.

There comes a time in our lives when we cross lines we swore we would never cross.  I can honestly say that every time I have made a firm stance on an issue, "I will never do (fill in the blank)" I eventually do (fill in the blank).  Maybe it's a form of judgment; I judge situations, people, or circumstances and then sooner or later fall into that same area myself.  Whatever the reason may be, I find myself on the end of repentance and self exploration.

Self exploration can really, really, really suck!  Especially when you are exploring those dark, cold, nasty corners of your heart and your life that you forgot existed.  It seems like every day you are discovering more things about yourself that you do not like!  As a matter of fact, you would never hang out with someone who had the issues that you have yourself!  Each day you discover something old and something wrong in yourself and you try to find out how you can remove the problem from your life and be done with it forever.

I would have to say the most difficult part about this journey is the self-talk and the un-conscience thoughts you have about yourself as the days drag on.  Evaluating the darkness and finding area's where you could have done better, finding area's where you know you could have been more loving, more accepting, more generous, more normal and then beating yourself up for not choosing better and for not making better choices with your words, your actions, your thoughts, and your emotions in the midst of the area. 

I can take negativity and harshness from almost anyone but the worst sort of hatred is always self-hatred. 

What I am beginning to learn and beginning to remind myself of is how God has so much more grace and love and acceptance for my life than I could ever have for myself.  Every time I find an area where I could have been better or when I find an area that's dark and cold I tend to beat myself up and tell myself how disappointed I am in myself for my behavior.  However, self-hatred is not a fruit of the spirit and I know God is not wanting me to remain in emotional purgatory because of bad decisions I have made.  God has grace for me even in area's where I did not know I needed His grace.  When I realize my failures and I begin to drag my head towards the ground God comes running up alongside me, He puts his arm around my shoulder and He says "Come on man!  Let's try this thing again."  He encourages me, He lifts me up, He reveals area's in my heart that need to be healed and He loves me through the healing.  

It is one thing to extend grace and mercy to other people in my life and I think I am really good at doing so.  But the hardest person I can have grace and mercy for is myself and I know God is wanting me to start with my own heart and to release His grace and His mercy to my heart as I continue the journey to wholeness.   

Two Coaches

Baseball was big in my family when I was growing up.  As legend has it, my Papaw had a shot at playing for the Cincinnati Reds but was prevented from his chance at the pro's because he was the only one in the family who could carry the keg of beer from the basement of the family bar and bring it upstairs to tap it behind the counter.  

Both my brothers were talented at the sport, especially my oldest brother who was a natural and had a passion for the game.  Either he viewed baseball as something he was passionate about or something to get him into a college scholarship after high school, either way he was good at what he did on the diamond.  

If my oldest brother was passionate about baseball our father was a fanatic.  Dad spent hours upon hours researching methods and techniques to improve our ability to hit, field, and throw the baseball.  I can remember pulling pieces of rubber tubbing with a baseball attached at the end to develop arm strength.  I can remember throwing a dish towel into a mirror while standing on a 2X4 to improve my balance and delivery, and I will never forget the infamous Ken Griffey Jr. "Instruct-O-Swing" contraption we would hit baseballs off of and into a backdropped net my father had built for us to be able to practice in the off season inside our family garage.    

I have happy memories from my childhood involving the game of baseball and my family and I have nightmares involving the game that I have tried to erase from my memory for most of my adult years.  

One of those nightmares happened when I was just a young boy, maybe 7 years old or so.  It was the first year the kids were allowed to pitch during games and not have to rely on the coaches to lob the baseball directly over home plate so we could hit rockets into the outfield.  It was an indoor practice our team was having in a local gymnasium.  I was on the pitchers mound and I was struggling to throw a strike, in fact I had hit 6 kids who were just trying to take batting practice.  My father stood behind the backstop and made hand gestures and arm movements and tried to quietly mouth instructions to me as he watched the nervousness get the better of his seven year old son.  He looked like a wild character, standing back there, obviously frustrated but still loving and only wanting his young boy to succeed.  My coach stood off to the side of the "field", he was a drunk with a thick mustache and was married to a woman that coached a team we considered to be our rival.  I can remember my coach turning his head from watching my father give instructions to watching me hit his players in their rib cage.  

After awhile the coach called timeout and asked my father to join him out on the mound.  I stood there as the coach began to express how he thought my father was being a distraction to me and then watched as my father disagreed and said he was helping me.  This continued for a few minutes as I stood there, my seven year old self turning and twisting my head to the left and then to the right as I followed the conversation, bewildered and confused as to what was actually taking place.  All I knew was I had a few teammates crying because I'd hit them and maybe cracked a few ribs and now two adults had stopped practice to come and talk about something on the pitchers mound.   

Everything sounded like noise to me until suddenly I heard my name.

"Anthony!  Son, who do you want to listen to?  Who do you want to coach you?"  The words left the mouth of my alcoholic coach and snapped me back to reality.

Immediately I felt alone, helpless, confused, scared, worried, terrified, and any other words you can think of.  I would have pissed my pants had there been enough water in my system.  I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do.  There my father and my coach stood, towering over me, both men looking down into my eyes and waiting for the answer of a seven year old to determine who would win their argument and ultimately who would walk away with their head held high and their chest puffed out.  I thought this was why God created women, to settle arguments between men and determine who was more manly.  Well, for whatever reason I was the one in charge of making that decision now.  After what felt like an eternity and after what seemed like a thousand voices screaming the question into my ears I finally answered.  

My father immediately had a look of total defeat on his face.  I think I saw tears welling up in his eyes as he dropped his head down and walked back to the sidelines.  My coach, with a drunk smile on his face knelt down, placed his hand on my shoulder and began to give me instructions.  All I could do was watch my father walk away, obviously saddened and disappointed.  Suddenly this wave of emotion swept over my body as I felt responsible for his defeat.  I had given him over to the enemy, betrayed my dad to a drunk little league coach with a mustache.  

The entire drive home on the dark backroads of Kentucky I sat in the front seat with my baseball glove in my lap and told my dad I was sorry, I told him I didn't mean it, I wanted to pick him but I didn't know what to do.  I don't remember him saying much that night or even looking at me.  I just remember seeing the glow of the dashboard lights in his face as he squeezed the steering wheel and drove us home.  

Today I am 28 years old and find myself in a similar position at times in life.  Frequently choosing between two people, choosing between two things, having to make the decision on who I want to coach me.   

Most of the time these decisions are choosing between God and sin.  What voice do I want to listen to in the moment?  Do I want to listen to God or do I want to follow sin for awhile to see what happens?  When God says, "She's not your wife" will I still choose to follow her for awhile anyways?  The answer to that is yes.  And just like when I was seven, I frequently make the wrong decision of who I want to coach me.   

Thankfully, God doesn't walk away with His head tilted down to the ground looking defeated.  God gracefully and loving encourages me and brings me back home and back into His arms.  

Speaking to the wall

One of the most difficult things in life is being in relationship with people.  Being connected to someone else whether they be friends, family members, lovers, or co-workers.  Anytime we are connected to someone, anytime we are close enough to allow ourselves to be known or to see into another's heart we are standing on unstable ground.  It's really all about intimacy or "into me you see" and the risk that involves. 

When we get close to people and they get close to us, our problems and issues and cracks in our foundation begin to show and reveal themselves. We go from our normal, surface level self to the person with the fear of abandonment or the person with a guarded heart or whatever the issue may be.  

Let's be clear, everyone has their issues they carry around.  Everyone has those quirks, those behaviors, those thoughts or feelings or whatever it is that is a part of who they are.  For example, I struggle with intimacy, not in giving intimacy or allowing people to become close to me, I struggling with allowing everyone close to me, too close.  I struggle with giving too much of my heart away to anyone and everyone that seems interested.  This plays itself out in my life in areas where I have unhealthy boundaries because I never establish those boundaries in the first place in relationships.

Others have been hurt so many times in the past and now they won't allow others into their heart, they remain guarded and defensive when others try to get close. Both of these people flesh their issues out in various ways but both are treated using the same methods.  

The central issue is identity. We forget all too quickly our real and true identity.  We have been hurt before, our parents divorced, a lover cheated on us or abandoned us, a friend said words out of  their wounding that caused us pain, we failed at a dream, or whatever the situation was the truth is we were left thinking and viewing ourselves as failures, as being unlovable, unworthy, untrustworthy, feeling we could not trust or love others because they would one day abandon and leave us or make us feel insignificant and unworthy. 

We are all products of our past and more importantly we are products of how we interpreted our past inside our hearts.  

Some tips are to recognize that people are operating out of their hurt and not deliberately trying to hurt you. This enables you to have mercy and grace for them and to love them enough to help bring them to a place of healing. 

Another is to recognize your own hurt and wounding that plays itself out in your life.  If you are unaware of those areas in your life, take some quiet time and get alone and ask your heart where it has been hurt.  Then listen to your heart and process what you hear.  

The truth is you are loved and accepted and deserve to be loved, cherished, accepted, fruitful, and to have quality relationships with others who build you up and love you well.

In all things share love, accept love, share mercy and grace and allow your heart to be open and free inside of a healthy environment.

- Anthony 

Arriving at my destination

I am almost 29 years old and I am struggling to remember some of the life lessons I have learned along the way to this point.  You know, those life lessons that hurt and stung and made you feel like crawling in a hole, those are the ones I have experienced and learned from in the past but today feels as though I am experiencing them for the first time.  

As a Christian, these are life lessons that pull me away from the intimacy with God I should have learned to cherish and protect with all that I have.  It's a paradox really, in these moments I feel as though I could get no further from His heart than I am in the moment and in reality I am drawing closer to His heart than I could have ever imagined.  It is what James talks about, the trying of our faith.  The trial is brutal and bloody, the trial is more gruesome on the heart and the soul than the movie Braveheart.  Yet, the trial brings me one step closer to knowing Him and to Him knowing me.

There will come a day when I look back on these times and think about His goodness and His grace and mercy that sustained me and kept me from completely falling.  In faith I can look forward to that day, with hope I can press forward and force myself to climb out of bed every morning and shower and dress myself.  I can remind myself that He is faithful and He is with me no matter what is happening in my heart.  

I would say the worst mistake I could make in this time is forcing something to happen outside of its proper place.  I read this morning from an author about the issue of sailing.  When there is no wind pushing our sails closer to the destination we become anxious and have to choose between switching on the motor to arrive sooner than if we just allowed the wind to eventually bring us to where we intended to go.  

Some of the questions that come to the surface in these times can be:  Is this even the destination I want to be heading towards?  Why did I get on this boat in the first place?  Is this taking too long?  Should I be farther ahead with the other boats?  If I get there sooner, will things be different than if I arrived on time?  

There are times we climb in the boat, raise the sails, point our direction to the destination of our choosing, and learn along the way that we chose the wrong destination.  The answer is not always to simply keep moving forward.  Sometimes we need to simply reevaluate everything and go from there, even if it means turning our boat around.

Maybe this is the lesson I am still learning.  The lesson that turning around, or waiting on the wind, or heading towards a different destination does not necessarily mean I was wrong or I made a mistake or that I am some sort of a failure.  It simply means the wind decided to do something different than I thought and now I am going somewhere else.

Whatever the lesson to be learned, whatever the destination or the reliance on the wind, whatever the experience along the way, the truth remains the same, there are always lessons to be learned and sometimes repeating the same lessons over again simply means I have not arrived, but one day I will get there.  

Angels and demons

I have always been interested in supernatural events and activities ever since I was a little guy.  Growing up during the revival of the 1990's and the outpouring that happened in my church in Kentucky gave me a desire for the things of God and my encounters with angels when I was younger have kept me hungry for more of those experiences.  

Along those same lines I have had experiences with demons before and left   the experiences with some questions in my mind.  I think all of us at some point have had experiences we may or may not admit to that have left us questioning the whole supernatural thing a bit and wondering what some of the truths are behind our experiences.

I didn't really have many references from the bible about the works of angels and demons until I sat across from a woman one evening who was possessed and read bible passages to her as she tried to manifest what was inside her.

I think most of us have this curiosity and maybe have had experiences that we couldn't understand or didn't want to understand.  Either way, here are some things I have been thinking about lately.

I have always wondered at and marveled at the the story of Jesus in the grave yard with the guy that was possessed by a bunch of demons.  Mark chapter 5 talks about the story of the man in the tombs and how he was bound with shackles and chains but he would break them and nothing could keep him bound.  When I read this story in the Amplified version it says that the shackles were weak and the chains were broken by his constant rubbing them and pounding on them with rocks.  What's the point?  I have read this plenty of times before and wondered at the strength of the demons inside the man to break those chains.  But when I read it in the amplified it tells me that he was only able to break those chains and shackles by using natural or physical means.  The shackles were already weak and the chains he had to work to break, it was not some superhuman, supernatural power that enabled the man to break free!  Though he was possessed by a legion of demons he was still bound to normal and natural rules of law.

Then we read in Acts chapter 12 about an encounter with the supernatural and the working of angels.  Peter had been arrested and was heavily guarded in prison.  It says that "he was chained between two guards and that sentries stood guard at the entrance.  In other words...Peter was BOUND!  He had two chains holding him to two guards along with sentries standing at the entrance to his jail cell.  What happens next?  And angel of the Lord shows up, smacks peter to wake him up and then the chains fall off of peters wrists and the jail cell door opens and peter walks right out of jail.  

So what's the point?  demons will try anything they can to instill fear and torment into the lives of believers but they are still bound within the confines of the natural world.  The chains did not fall off the possessed man but he had to work to break them off  by using rocks to smash them.  With peter the chains simply fell off his wrists and he walked out of jail.  Angels are given a higher degree of power, they are not limited to the natural order of things.  In other words, if God sends an angel to set Peter free, Peter is getting free. 

The simple point in this entire story is to understand that we serve a God that is not bound by natural limitations but that He is limitless and boundless in His love and compassion.  

So let fear and worry and doubt fall off of your life like the chains that held Peter to his captors.  Let love, peace, and hope come on you like a warm blanket.  And finally understand that there is a God that loves you.  He is not fighting for you because He already won the war. 

   

  

Pressence vs hype

As I have grown older, and I understand I am still young, I have begun to find myself disgusted with the same things most of us have become so accustomed to.

I do not think of myself as being anything special or unique.  I grew up in an average home with normal parents and an ethnic background leaning heavily on the Italian roots from my father.  I didn't grow up rich and I didn't grow up so poor that I would be destined for a "rags to riches" life story.  I graduated high school, I played sports but was not the star on any team, I never went through a goth phase growing up, my parents never forced me to go to sleep with my bible in hand nor did they force me to memorize entire books of the bible at a time, and my favorite food was jello.  In other words, I am rather ordinary, nothing special about me.  Yet I have this burning desire inside of me that tells me I cannot accept the ordinary and the normal and the traditional things of Christ, of the Christian life.

Jesus was a lot of things but ordinary was not one of them.  I'd imagine when people asked their neighbors, "Have you of that Jesus guy going around?" the answer was never "You mean that normal dude?" or "that plain looking fellow?  The one who sits in the back of the church and doesn't say much?"  For example, at one point Jesus told His disciples to eat His body and drink His blood....That's not normal.

So, when Jesus says in the Bible "These same works I have done, you will do also and greater works than these." I have to take Him at His word.  When He tells me (and you) to "go into all the world and preach the Gospel, heal the sick, and cast out the demons..." I assume that means I am not only able to do those things but I am SUPPOSED to do those things.

When did it become okay for Christians to not heal people?  When did it become okay for Christians to work a normal job, live in a normal apartment, and attend a normal church for their entire lives without ever experiencing a real Jesus?  When did it become okay to forget about the power and the manifestation of the Holy Spirit?  When did the extent of God's power become limited to our checking accounts?  When did the most powerful thing we see in church become the book club?  Since when did preachers become known as the most popular because of what they said and not because of the manifestation of the miraculous in their lives?

We sing songs talking about healing, freedom, grace, peace, love, mercy, and all these other powerful words but I am not entirely sure we understand what any of those words actually mean.

I think we have been focussed on hype for far too long in churches.  Everything we do has become about the next big event or the next catchy title of the sermon series.  We rely on hype and advertising to bring the people into our churches and hope they enjoy themselves so much that they choose to stick around.  But hype will never sustain a church.  The only thing to sustain a church over a long period of time is the power and the presence of God.

I am begging you, whomever is reading this, please stop,  Stop the nonsense, stop the regurgitating the same thing everyone else is saying, please stop the same boring life.  Let's do something, let's be used by the Holy Spirit and actually see the power of God move through our lives into our cities.  

In the book of Acts it says that 5,000 were lead to the way in a single day.  The city I live in has a population of around 125,000.  That means we should be able to transform this city for the kingdom of God in 25 days.  But we won't do it by inviting them to bible study and by holding a book club.  We will transform it by getting in the streets, loving the people, and allowing God to actually move through us in ways of His manifest power and love.

Join the movement, join the revolution.  Don't be satisfied with what you have or where you are.  Pray and tell God you are open to Him, tell Him you want to be used for His kingdom in a very real and powerful way.

Flight Zone & Escape Behavior

So let's talk about a Flight Zone.  What is a Flight Zone?  Well, it doesn't have anything to do with aircraft.  I had been studying for a presentation I am giving in my class for bible school on the topic "what is a pastor?"  I decided to begin studying out the behaviors of sheep.  Why would I do that? you may ask.  Because a pastor is often referred to as a shepherd and we christians and church members are often referred to as sheep.  I know, very flattering.  Anyways, I figured I would study the behaviors of actual sheep and maybe that would give me some clarity on the life of a shepherd which would give me some more clarity on the roles of a pastor.

While I was studying behaviors of sheep I learned that sheep, like most animals, have what is known as a "Flight Zone."  A Flight Zone is an area surrounding the animal that if encroached upon by a potential predator or threat will cause alarm and escape behavior.  Escape behavior is essentially what the animal will do immediately following the encroachment of a possible enemy.  An animals escape behavior will vary from animal to animal.  Some animals may run for their lives, others may take a defensive position, and others will run for any form of protection they may find.

While reading about sheep and their behaviors and flight zones I can't help but wonder what my flight zone is and what my escape behavior is like once my flight zone has been breached.  

I know the Bible says "we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against principalities and rulers of darkness." and I also know that the Bible says "the enemy is roaming about seeking whom he may devour."  Based on those scriptures I understand that I have only one enemy in this life, only one substance that could possibly violate my flight zone, only one threat that could make me switch to my escape behavior and that is the devil.

This leads me to asking myself, what is my flight zone and what is my escape behavior?  Have I given the enemy so much ground in my life that my flight zone has become very small?  How much of an attack will I tolerate from the devil and his forces before I go into escape behavior?  Will I allow negative thoughts?  Will I allow sickness?  Will I allow lack?  Will I allow poverty?  Will I allow my family to live their lives not knowing Jesus?  How much will I take?  How much will I allow the enemy to encroach on me and my territory before I finally move into escape behavior?

And what exactly is my escape behavior?  Do I turn and just begin running away from the threat of my enemy?  Do I run and run hoping that I will be strong enough to out last and out run the one seeking to kill and destroy my life?  Do I turn and try to fight back?  Do I try to fight my enemy leaning on my own understanding and my own ability?  Or maybe I do what sheep do, maybe I turn towards my Shepherd, maybe I go and stand next to Him and I lean on His strength and His power.

See, as Christians we have to know that the devil and his forces have already been defeated.  We have to know that they hold no power over our lives besides what we allow them to have.  If we allow the enemy to encroach on our territory, if we allow the enemy to get close to us and take what is ours before we transition into escape mode, then we are saying we don't fully trust in what Jesus already did for our lives.  The word of God says that He came to give us life and life more abundantly!  That abundant life is within our flight zone and we shouldn't allow the enemy to come in and take what's rightfully ours through Christ.

Animals have four varying degrees of flight zones and the zones get closer and closer depending upon the threat the animal perceives in the object encroaching on their territory.  The closest zone is the social zone, where the animal feels no threat and therefore allows the closest distance without going into escape mode.  As I read this I wonder if I have allowed the enemy to come into my social zone.  Have I allowed him to get so close to me that I am unaware I should be in escape mode and standing next to my Shepherd leaning on His power and His promises to protect and defend me.

I think it's time I reevaluate my flight zone and I begin to take back my territory that was promised to me and made available to me through my Shepherd, Jesus Christ.  When times get tough, when seasons get hard, when threats come, I should go into escape behavior and run to my Savior before I get too comfortable with having the enemy in my territory. 

Mary's way to Worship Jesus.

John 12:3 says, "Then Mary took a twelve-ounce jar of expensive perfume made from essence of nard, and she anointed Jesus' feet with it and wiped His feet with her hair.  And the house was filled with fragrance."

I love this verse because it shows us an example of what it would be like to truly worship Jesus.

Prior to this encounter with Jesus and the perfume and His feet, Mary had a special encounter with the Son of God.  Her brother, Lazarus died and had been buried for four days when Jesus, a friend of the family, came into town to visit His friends.  When Jesus arrived He found the family and their friends all mourning the death of Lazarus beside his tomb.  Jesus walked up to the tomb where Lazarus was buried and yelled for Lazarus to get up and walk out.  Sure enough, the guy who had been DEAD for FOUR DAYS got up and walked out of the tomb ALIVE.

So Mary had every right to be grateful to Jesus, in fact, before verse 3 arrives we read that Jesus was in the families house because they were throwing a dinner party in His honor (v. 1-2).

What Mary did was an act of worship for the Son of God but I believe it also set the standard of how we should worship The Lord.

Mary takes a 12-ounce bottle of very expensive perfume, so expensive in fact that Judas becomes angry with her for wasting the perfume on Jesus saying that it was worth a small fortune and could have been sold and the money given to the poor (V. 5).  Now, I don't know how wealthy the family was at the time of this party, maybe Mary had 100 of those 12-ounce bottles but I have a feeling it was a big deal for her and the family to have something of such significance and worth in their possession.  So what's the point?  One of the ways Mary worships Jesus is with her possessions and finances.  This isn't about tithing or offerings, don't think I'm going to ask you to start giving 50% of your income starting this Sunday at church.  But it is important to notice that this is one of the ways she chose to worship Him.  And keep in mind, Mary didn't make a financial donation to the ministry of Jesus, she didn't give the bottle of perfume to Him and say "please sell this so you'll have money to travel more."  She took her most prized possession and used it to honor and worship Him.  She didn't give up wearing perfume for lent, she didn't sell the perfume to donate the money to Jesus, she didn't give Him the bottle, she took the perfume and poured it over His feet!

The next way Mary worships Jesus is with her beauty by sacrificing her beauty in worship to the Son of God.  Jesus more than likely wore sandals during this time in history, I can't picture Him being caught wearing the latest Jordan's.  So He's wearing sandals, walking around in the dirt and the sand and the heat and around the city streets all day long and who knows how long it's actually been since He was able to wash His feet and here Mary is taking her hair to wipe the feet of Jesus using the expensive perfume she just poured over His dirty, nasty feet.  I'd imagine Mary was a very pretty lady who probably took good care of herself considering the fact that she owned such an expensive bottle of perfume during the times they lived in.  Yet, despite her beauty, despite her financial situation, despite her pride, she worships Jesus by sacrificing her beauty to worship and honor Him.

The third way Mary worship Jesus was by sacrificing her dignity and her pride and probably her reputation.  In the middle of a dinner party, while the men are gathered around the table engaged in conversation, while her sister is slaving away in the kitchen preparing a meal for everyone to enjoy, Mary gets down on the dirty floor and begins to pour this expensive perfume out onto His feet, then she uses her hair to wipe His feet off causing her hair to smell like a strange mixture of nasty feet and perfume and getting dirt and sand and filth in her hair during the process.  But Mary doesn't care about any of that, she doesn't care what the dinner guests might think of her.  Her only focus, her only goal, her mission is to worship Jesus with everything she has.  Mary worships Jesus with literally everything, her finances and possessions, her beauty, and her pride and reputation.  She lays it all down literally on the feet of Jesus because she loves Him so much she has to worship Him.

And what is the result of her sacrifice and her worship?  The end of verse 3 says "...and the house was filled with fragrance."  I want to believe this was the presence of God, His anointing.  The bible talks about the presence and anointing of God being like a sweet fragrance and in Revelation it talks about our prayers raising to God like a sweet smelling fragrance.  I believe that a result of Mary's sacrificial and complete worship to and for Jesus was that the anointing and the literal presence of God filled that house like a beautiful fragrance.

The bible says in Hebrews that we should offering a sacrifice of praise to Him continually.  Praising God and worshipping Him should not be without sacrifice, it should not be on our terms and within our comfortable spaces.  Our worship of Jesus should be with complete sacrifice and with complete and total abandon to anything and everything.  Is He not worthy of such a sacrifice?

I will be walking this out as I learn how I can specifically follow this example of worship.  I believe it will be different for everyone but I also believe it is the necessary way to truly worship the One who gave His life for ours.

Faith + Love

1 Corinthians 13:13 says “There are three things that will endure – faith, hope, and love – and the greatest of these is love.”

There is a story of my brother Gabriel, a story that will last for the length of time in this nation and in the nation of Grenada.  Why?  Because it has been and will continue to be passed on from generation to generation.

My brother was a missionary in Grenada for two years and was swimming with a group of people from the States one day in the ocean near their home base.  To make a long story short, a young man had gone swimming out beyond where you should go and was swept out into the hazardous depths of the ocean by the raging waves.  The people in his group noticed he was being swept out when my brother decided to swim out after this young man.  The story goes that when my brother reached the young man they were around 100 meters out from shore and were being pulled even further.  They tried to swim back to shore but were pushed even faster and further out to sea from the relentless waves.  They’d gotten so far out that there was no hope of rescue; the locals told the members of the group standing on the shore that they were as good as dead.  My brother and the young man became so exhausted from swimming that they began to sink beneath the surface of the ocean, as they sank and began to drown my brother began to talk to God and remind Him that nothing good could come from him drowning in the ocean, that God needed to do something to save their lives.  At that moment my brother and the young man were suddenly and miraculously taken and moved from sinking beneath the ocean to standing in a safe zone and were able to walk to shore.

Matthew 21:21-22 says “Then Jesus told them, I assure you, if you have faith and don’t doubt, you can do things like this and much more.  You can even say to this mountain, “May God lift you up and throw you into the sea, and it will happen.  If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”

We know that faith can move mountains; Matthew 21:21 just told us so.  But what happens when we combine our faith and our love?  How much more could happen in our lives when we combine the two?  1 Corinthians said that out of faith, hope, and love the greatest is love.  But faith has the ability to move a mountain!  I wonder how much more love can do and how much more faith + love can accomplish in our lives and in the lives of those we encounter.

What I love so much about the story of my brother is not just the miracle of being translated to safety and saved from death.  What I love is my brother’s courage and my brother’s love for the life of someone else.  See, faith would have looked like my brother gathering the others in the group standing on the shore and praying for the young man to be rescued or for God to perform a miracle of some sort.  Faith, although needed, would have kept my brother safe on the shore praying.  Faith + Love took my brother from his safety on the shore and brought him into the raging sea, into the thrashing waves, into the place of death, and his Faith + Love brought about a miracle of biblical proportions.

How much more can we accomplish for the Kingdom of God when we, like my brother, use the equation of Faith + Love in our lives and in the lives of all those we encounter. 

I believe I will see those astounding miracles I crave to see and experience in my life when I not only pray the prayers of faith but when I allow my love for God and for humanity to bring me into those raging sea’s and position myself for God to deliver me and work a miracle in my life.

This weekend I am departing for Los Angeles where I am going as part of a team of teenagers from my home church to bring a message of hope to the people of that city.  We are not just praying the prayers of faith for Los Angeles but we will be using that equation of Faith + Love and getting into it, positioning ourselves for God to work those astonishing miracles in our lives and all those we encounter.

Pray for us, pray for the team, pray that we are lead by the Holy Spirit and pray that we have more than enough opportunities to combine our Faith and Love and expand the Kingdom of God in the city of Los Angeles.

Saturday Stories

Last week I experienced one of those events in life that makes everything real.  One of those happenings that wake you up, that splash cold water on your face, and makes you sober.

I work for a church in Texas as their stage manager.  It’s a great job and I love what I do and where I work but my position requires me to stay on target and make sure the schedule is running in order, there isn’t much time with my job to simply sit and experience things, to experience the service and the people.  I am always running around on Sunday mornings trying to make sure everyone knows what is going on and that there are no issues.  The job of a stage manager is not to relax and enjoy the service, the job of a stage manager is to run and worry about the details.

In the church I also volunteer with the youth ministry where I do a variety of things one of which is teaching a spiritual growth class and preparing for an upcoming missions trip to Los Angels.  It is a stark contrast between the two positions; in my job it’s more about schedule and operations and in my volunteering it is more about people and relationship.

Last Saturday we had a training session for the youth who are going on the missions trip to L.A.  The youth pastor did something brilliant, something I never would have thought of, he handed out a piece of paper and a pen and gave everyone some time to write down their story.  The goal was for each person to become comfortable and familiar enough with his or her personal story so they would be relatable to those we would be ministering to in Los Angels.

As everyone wrote out their stories I walked around and looked over the shoulder of some of the youth who were writing away, one student had a diagram he’d drawn on his page.  On one said of the line he’d written “Before Christ” and on the other side he’d written “After Christ” and he’d listed some things under each category.  I laughed a bit and thought to myself, “how could a teenager have that much to write about before Christ?”

After everyone finished writing their story the youth pastor split the whole group into smaller groups and sent the young men with myself and another guy in the leadership of the youth department, Jeremiah.

We took the group of six young men and had them pair off to role-play how to approach a stranger on the street and start a conversation.  It was a bit awkward for everyone and after a few failed attempts I asked the group to come back together. 

Instead of trying the role-playing approach we decided to each take a turn sharing our personal story we’d just written down.  Everyone got two minutes to talk and to take us through their personal stories.  I started with mine and we went around the circle.  I didn’t hold any of the details back from my story I just told the group my experiences of going from drinking and smoking cigarettes to smoking pot and sleeping with girlfriends and I finished my time talking about how I got back into a church and met with my Pastor and how he helped me turn my life around.

As the next young man spoke he talked about abusive parents and divorce and rape and drugs and being placed in foster care and then being adopted and brought to church, the very church we were standing in.  The next young man spoke of similar scenarios and then the next and the next and the next and so on until we’d completed the circle.  Every single one had stories of the most horrible things involving situations and relationships that had changed their lives.

“My parents got divorced two years ago and I started getting angry and getting in fights in school.  I mean, how could two people who love each other just split up like that and wreck their home and their family?”  One young man said as he choked back tears.

“My dad killed himself when I was just a kid, I don’t think he meant to do it, he was going through a lot of hard stuff at the time.  I got really depressed and they sent me to a shrink and gave me some pills but none of it helped.”  Another young man shared.

At the end of each story, they spoke of someone in their lives who’d brought them to our church, Destiny World Outreach, and how they got connected and their lives haven’t been the same since.

It was truly heartbreaking for me to hear these stories, to hear that children and teenagers have gone through such horrible things.  In that moment I realized that life and working for a church isn’t about the schedule or the agenda, it’s not about the order of service or the time clock or even the amount of people in the service, it’s about the lives that are changed, it’s about providing a place of refuge and healing and strength for the people who are broken and hurting and who have nowhere else to go.

When you are conditioned to strictly follow a schedule you rarely just sit back and relax.  Over the last year I have transitioned from someone who makes every decision based on emotion to someone who makes every decision based on logic and reason.  When I asked everyone to share their stories I wasn’t attempting to make an emotional decision, I was making a logical decision without expecting to have the experience I had.  That’s the thing with our routines, God will typically find a way to interrupt our schedules and awaken us to His goodness and grace all over again.  That is what happened to me on that Saturday.

Acceptance and Validation

Everyone wants to feel accepted in life.  By our family, our friends, our co-workers, etc.  We all want to have a community of people who we know accepts us for who are.  We want to be a part of a group of people where we are free from judgment and ridicule.  Viktor Frankl says there are three things every person needs in their life.
1. To have meaningful goal they are working towards.
2. To take a redemptive perspective from their unavoidable sufferings.
3.  And to be a part of a loving community.

Acceptance, true acceptance is hard to come by.  I can think of maybe a handful of people, let’s say five or six, who have truly accepted me for who I am in my entire lifetime.  Through the years I have tried to earn the acceptance from people in my life, I think everyone does that to a certain extent.  We dress a certain way, we talk a certain way, we listen to specific kinds of music or watch specific T.V. shows and movies in an attempt to fit in and be accepted.

I grew up in church but I was never the type of person to give a loud “Amen” during the sermon or run laps around the sanctuary for no apparent reason.  However, since I’ve moved to Texas I’ve found myself doing that.  Not running laps around the sanctuary, actually I haven’t been running laps around much of anything, but I have been known to give an above normal volumed “amen” or “preach it” during the sermons at my current church.  Is this a desperate cry for acceptance?  I don’t think so.  It’s more about identifying with the culture.  If it is an attempt for acceptance, it’s subconsciously manifesting that way.

So,   It’s not a one-time thing either, it’s constant and true, I always work for acceptance when I’m around people, even people I know and have been friends with.

acceptance has always been a big issue for me, I’ve always tried to fit into a group in my own unique way; I try to be accepted by people around me.

In my relationship with God the same is true, I try to be accepted by Him.  When I feel like I am doing the good spiritual things a Christian is supposed to do, I feel as though God accepts me, He approves of me.  “This is my son, in whom I am well pleased.” If Jesus had made a mistake would God still have been well pleased?

Acceptance is a form of validation.  When I accept you I am validating who you are, at least that’s what I thought.  Because I don’t really know who I am I seek acceptance as a way to make people tell me who I am.  If someone validates what I wear I will be more likely to wear those clothes.  If someone validates a blog I wrote I would be likely to write more blogs.  Identity is often mistakenly found in validation and acceptance.  No matter what I do in life, no matter what decision I make, I will always be able to find someone to accept me and validate what I do.

And here is the difference with God.  God accepts us no matter what.  Black, yellow, purple, or white.  Gay, straight, bi-sexual, whatever.  Drunk, drug addict, loser, thief, pastor, president, anything.  God accepts us no matter who we are or what we’ve done or what we are doing.  However, God does not always validate us, rather God does not always validate our actions.  That’s the difference between acceptance and validation, acceptance is more about who you are and validation is more about what you’ve done.  You ARE a child of God; you have ACTED in some sinful ways.

2 Samuel 14:22 says, “Joab fell to the ground before the king and blessed him and said, “At least I know that I have gained your approval, for you have granted me this request.”

What prayers has God answered for you?  Not just recently but at anytime in your life.  What have you asked Him for that He has given you?  It could even be the life you have right now, the breath you are breathing.  Not one breath is guaranteed; therefore every breath we have is a gift from God.

Following the logic in 2 Samuel 14.  If God grants just one request we make of Him, if He gives us just one thing in our entire lives, then He accepts us.  I won’t say this changes things in my life, I won’t make this blog too dramatic; But that does give me a little bit of hope, it makes me happy to realize and to see another way I can know that I am accepted by God.  I don’t have to earn His acceptance; He’s already given it to me.

 

In closing and in the words of Ringo Star,

“Peace and Love, Peace and Love.”

Life is not a battle.

I am not in the middle of a battle.

That felt good to write, to say out loud as I wrote it.

For years I have been told that life is a battle, especially in the contexts of spirituality.  “Everyday is a battle.  Are going to fight for God or for the devil?”  Statements like that (Which I just made up for the sake of my argument) have made challenging times seem more challenging.  When life gets tough I typically think to myself, “well, you’re losing this one” and I immediately feel worse. 

What if life wasn’t a battle to be won or lost?  What if life was just life, a series of days and times and events and laughs and tears and love and hate and life?  As Christians, we know that death is not the end.  We subscribe to the belief that there is an after-life and we will either spend eternity in heaven or hell.  So, if death is not the end, if death is not considered a loss, why do we think our lives have to be such a struggle to win?  This is not something about prosperity; I’m not talking about that.  Maybe this is more for emotional things, like depression or loneliness or something.

You wake up and are immediately immersed in a fight, a fight for the day, a fight for your life.  Every decision you make, every thought you have, every word that comes out of your mouth is another chance to win or lose.  It's stressful, you have to constantly be ready to defend your position, to fight for your victory everyday of your life, there is never a moment of rest or peace.  That doesn't sound like a life I want to live.

Donald Miller wrote in a book about a lecture he went to.  The man speaking said that more people are dying from non-terminal cancer's each year in the United States than need to be.  The reason? Their mentality towards their illness.  The popular belief is that when the “C” word is given as diagnosis that you are automatically thrown into the midst of an epic battle between yourself and cancer.  The patient believes they have to fight to survive and because of this perceived mentality of a battle that needs to be won or lost, there are people who give up because they don’t think they can win the battle, they don’t think they have the strength to fight.  In most of these cases, the cancer was not terminal, the patient had very little to zero risk of dying but their emotional state propelled their bodies into a place of immediately raising the white flag in defeat and so they succumbed to the perception of their current state.

I just wonder if the same is true in life.  Am I succumbing to the perception I have?  Sometimes I wake up and I can’t wait to take on the day; I have my to-do lists made, I have my schedule set, I have the coffee maker ready to go, I am going to dominate life on that day.  Then there are days I don’t want to get out of bed till Noon and I beat myself up because of it, I immediately check out and say “You lost today, buddy.”  From my perception of life being a series of battles to win or lose, I am taking on negative perceptions to life and I can be sure to lose whatever perceived battle I think I am in.

I say, get the entire mentality of life being a battle out of your head.  Life is life and there are good days and there are bad days but life is not a battle and you don’t have to fight.  All you have to do is live.  Here’s hoping you live a life of joy and happiness.

- Cheers.

Why I think being Needed could be a bad thing.

Being needed is an interesting thing.  An interesting relationship between you, the person who is needed, and whomever the person or people are that need you.  It's an interesting dynamic, being needed.  When you're needed it's almost like a high or something similar.  There is a deep part of each person which craves the feelings and emotions that come with being needed by someone else.  What is unfortunate about being needed is that the need can actually kill you.  When relationships are out of balance, the need is the only thing that keeps you in a relationship.  I am not specifically talking about romantic and intimate relationships, it could be relationships with co-workers or friends or family members or lovers or even jobs and volunteer positions.  The problem with being needed and being the source which fills the void is that inevitably the emptiness, the void, the thing which needs you will one day be filled or satisfied and then you will have to change and adapt to fill in the other area's where there is a void or a need.  

What you need instead is to be wanted.  

When you're needed you are acting within a performance based mentality.  When you cannot fulfill your duties of being the solution you will be discarded and left for dead.  But when you are wanted, there is no need to perform, there is no need for a performance review, there is zero possibility of being dropped, being kick to the side, being left for dead, being discarded for something or someone else.  You are wanted and no one and nothing else will satisfy that want.

My Pastor told me years ago while we were talking about the status of the relationship I was involved in, "Anthony, so long as you need her, you'll never have a good relationship."  At the time, I didn't understand what he was saying and it's still difficult to wrap my head around the concept, but tonight as I was driving to a local coffee house to work I had the thought "You don't want to be needed, you want to be wanted."

In my life, I can see where almost all of my decisions have been based off my desire to be needed.  In the spirit of being transparent, there is a new young adult ministry that launched at the church I work for.  In the staff meeting when our Pastor announced the new Saturday night service, I felt "lead" to volunteer myself as the young adult stage manager.  I am employed by the church in the main services as the stage manager and felt the new young adult ministry would need my ability and my services as well.  Obviously at the moment I didn't say to myself, "They need me.  Go volunteer your time so you'll feel needed and complete."  At the time I thought I was hearing the "voice of God."  Actually it was some deep, dark, unidentifiable void in my life that was craving to fill the void, it was craving the feelings of being needed.  

After some time volunteering for this ministry I have lost my grace for it.  Every moment I spend "filling the need" I become discouraged and agitated and bitter.  Is it because I've lost my grace for the position or is it because I sought to volunteer myself in order to feel needed and when those feelings didn't reciprocate I began feeling angry and alone and lonely and upset and bitter and feeling like I was missing something.  Let it be known that I am not writing about or referring to anyone expect myself.

I throw myself into a relationship or a situation or position to feel like I am needed and when I do so from a wounded or broken place or an unhealthy place of being needed the entire situation or relationship or scenario is destined to fail and come crashing down around me.

John was not the "disciple whom Jesus needed."  I don't think Jesus needed anything or anyone.  John was the "disciple whom Jesus loved."  To love someone is not to need them, to love someone is to want them.

In my relationship with Jesus I live out of the place of needing Him.  We are trained to need God and we do need Him.  But a relationship should never begin from a place of need, a relationship should begin from a place of want.  We preach and teach and tell people that they need Jesus in order to gain access into Heaven and avoid the flames of hell.  This is true, but I don't know if I want to live my life from a place of need with consideration to my relationship with Jesus or anyone for that matter.  I have always been a struggling follower of Jesus and I cannot help but wonder if that is because I have needed Him for too long.  I need Jesus when I'm having a bad day.  I need Jesus when I'm sick or when I'm tired or when I don't have enough money or when I'm this or that.  What if I wanted Him instead.  No matter what was happening in life or how I felt I just wanted Him.

The truth is I have always needed you, the reader of this blog.  I have needed to look at the statistics to see how many people were reading my blogs so that I could feel like I wrote something good or popular or true or helpful.  Maybe I don't need you.  

Eh, maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe I'm the crazy one.  Maybe you've been living your life out of the constant need to be needed or a feeling that you need someone or something else when actually you don't.  You might want that someone or something else, I suppose that's fine.  But what if you stepped away from that person, place, or thing because you actually didn't need it/them at all.