Where Am I?

I was going through an old email account today and had to sort by contacts to find the last time I got an email in that account from someone I actually knew. It was from exactly a year ago this month. It was some friends of mine that moved up north and email every once in a while. The next one after that was from '07. I know I've mentioned this before but I couldn't help but to think back to what I was doing this time last year.

I was making more money. I had a pretty sweet corporate gig. I was in a pretty good relationship. I was shopping for a new truck. I ate lunch at Whole Foods just about every day. Worked out semi-consistently. All in all, I thought I was in a pretty decent place. But the more I reminisce to that time, the more I remember feeling decayed inside. You ever see a piece of wood that is rotten inside? A lot of times you can't tell just by looking at it, but the minute you pick it up and try to use it as anything functional: a walking stick, a bow staff, whatever, it quickly disintegrates and crumbles under its own weight. You usually find these random sticks on the ground under the shadows of the live, strong, flourishing trees. It's the same type of wood, same composition, same family—just hollow inside. I felt like that this time last year. In fact the more I try to remember 'good times' from last year the more I recall times where I let somebody down, times where I stressed too much and times where I really felt like I had no clue what I was doing in life. Not that any of those things were in any way bad in my life, I just realize now how much I had placed them-all of them above the one thing that has ever brought joy in my life. Not ethereal, fading happiness founded in things and circumstances and day to day situations, but true, deeply-rooted, unwavering, persistent joy. See, somehow I lost sight and forgot that all of these things in my life were never meant to be the source of my joy, the source of my peace and security. They were all byproducts of the Source and my connection with my Source. In fact, I remember times when I would cry out to God in bed and wonder what was wrong with me? God, where am I deficient? Where am I missing it? Not that he didn't answer; I just didn't want to hear it. See, the luxury with serving an invisible God with unending grace is that when he nudges you to move is that you can roll over and fall asleep. My God loves me enough and has enough grace for me that it's like he gave me a mute button for him. Or sometimes it seems, at least a volume control.

So I went on doing what I was doing, still mostly unfulfilled and wondering why God wasn't answering. When all along it was me that wasn't listening. Again, I emphasize that not any of those things in my life were bad on their own merit. In fact, they were all very good things, the job is still one of the coolest I've had, the girl is still a great friend, and trucks, well trucks are still pretty sweet. What was off was my focus. I had slowly rearranged my life into a comfortable, dull existence that I was slowly becoming very uncomfortable and bored with. So little by little God had enough grace to budge me out of my uncomfortable comfort. I left the gig, bounced around for a little bit looking for a new "career." The relationship ended. And I quit wanting for more stuff in my life.

So now, I live in Burnet. Regularly put in 12-15 hour days. Took a significant pay cut (corporate talk for I'm broke). And have no clue what I'll be doing in seven months, let alone have a structured, operational 5-year plan. And I'm happy. Not just happy, but I found my joy again. See my joy never left, I just misplaced it. In a very real sense of the word, I misplaced my joy. So where am I? Figuratively speaking, I have no clue. Spiritually speaking? Right where I should have always been. Connected and operating with my God the Source of all I ever have or ever will need.

 

 

9 Hours Til Kickoff

I can't begin to put words to the sheer giddiness and excitement I feel about tomorrow, err, later today. In a turn of amazing grace and luck my good buddy Andy got us two tickets to this year's UT-Oklahoma game. As I sit and try to contain myself, it's hard for me to not contextualize the parallels in my life right now.

This is actually the first time I've been to this amazing circus of a game and needless to say, it's exhilarating. We went to the State Fair today and the atmosphere was thick with excitement, anticipation and the smell of every fried food ever conceived by man. Everyone here seems to be in a sort of calm trance before the storm. I can't help but feel a little of that myself in my personal life. I remember when I told Jonathan (the director of the internship I'm currently serving in) all the things God had 'taken out' of my life in the months prior to me joining the internship, he made the analogy of an archer drawing on the string of his bow. At one distance, it's not too difficult to draw the string back and release, but the more you draw on that string, the more tension you build and obviously the more speed and distance the arrow covers. For some time I was a little bitter and bent out of shape at God, Jonathan, my friends, my roommates, my old job, my neighbors, my post man, my high school counselor, my neighbor's dog and just about anyone and everyone else I had come into contact with in the last 26 years. Because I felt like somehow I had missed out. Somehow I had missed out and it was everyone's fault. Somehow I had missed out on that awesome career, that awesome girlfriend, that awesome life. But as I let more and more stuff slip out of my life, God has been faithful to replace those things with more amazing opportunities and more amazing responsibilities I could have only imagined a few months ago.

Last week Jonathan let me have some creative control and direction with our campus ministry at UT. I was honored and excited at the same time. A few days after that, he offered me the opportunity to speak at our next service while he goes out of town. It took me a little bit to realize that I am effectively 'living my dream.' For the last three years I have been praying, bribing and pleading with God to allow me to be a part of full time ministry in almost any capacity, but specifically with youth and college aged students—not that I necessarily adore the 14 hour days, not that I enjoy this perpetual feeling of 'what am I forgetting?' not even that I like the stress of trying to come up with some semi-entertaining material to hold a college audience captive for about 30 minutes. But I genuinely, truly love pouring into people in that age group—I'll save the details for some other time, but that has honestly been my heart for about three years now. And the opportunity to do that at UT—the greatest school in the world?! I can't begin to put words to the sheer giddiness and excitement I feel about this opportunity. I'm not playing in any grand arena—we meet at The Union in front of a Wendy's and next to a Taco Bell, but the opportunity to speak into the lives of college kids at the greatest school on the planet? Yeah I get a little psyched about that. So enjoy the calm before the storm my friends, enjoy the corn dogs, the friend Oreos and fried ribs. Tomorrow is Game Day and as long as I've been a fan, my God has always shown up and done something amazing. Come along, let's watch Him run up the score. Blessings.

My God is Not a Bully

I've actually had a ton of things brewing in my mind and heart as of late, just not any time to put these things on paper. But for the sake of time, and because I have a 13 hour day tomorrow, I'll make a half-hearted attempt at being brief.

I guess the biggest issue I've had to come to wrap my mind around lately is that the past is gone. I know a lot of people realize this and it might seem a somewhat non-issue to them, but to me, especially as of late, it seems like a brand new revelation. I came into this internship with the thought that I would grow a little, learn a little and maybe grow a beard and in 10 months I would just come back to find my neatly planned life waiting for me. Like a song that you just put on pause and come back to when you're ready to finish it. The more I go through my hours, days and weeks, the more I realize this is just not so. Not so at all. In fact, I think this is why Paul said to forget the past and reach for what was ahead. As I try to hold on to the mementos of my past life, I realize more and more that in 10 months, I'll come out of my self-induced monastery and life will have continued on without me. Friends will be married, friends will be promoted, and some friends will be gone. I won't lie and pretend like this doesn't scare me at all, because it does. But I'm learning to become more and more comfortable with the idea—or at least to tolerate it a little bit more. Baby steps. Kinda like how you tolerate the idea that you need a vaccine, even if it comes in the form of a cold, piercing, jagged piece of steel. Seems the more mature you become, the less and less the idea of a needle ought to scare you. Sometimes I wish my maturity would catch up to my logic.

But something is different. In me. The more and more I fret about it, the more my logic leads me to realize that I really only have two options: live in nostalgia and longing for what is gone or learn to develop a genuine, palatable excitement for what the next 9 months will bring and tackle it like a short chubby kid trying to tackle the varsity running back—probably very clumsily and definitely with some pain, but a heck of a story to tell at some point down the road.

I realize a lot of what I wished for three months ago may never be there again. And I don't want to be bitter about. I don't want to be sad about it. I don't want to cry about it. Even though all these emotions take their turns at attempting to beat down my heart, I know God has something amazing in store somewhere down the road. As one of my intern buddies pointed out today—my God is not a bully. If he allows something to slip out of my life, I can only believe he's also creating room for something more amazing to make its way in. So I thank my God that he's not a bully that takes my lunch money and laughs in my face. He's not a forgetful God that he would overlook me. And he's not a man that he should lie to me. When he promises me that when I delight myself in him he'll give me the desires of my heart, I know he'll deliver. When he promises me provision, I know he'll send it. When he promises me an easier load to carry when I yoke myself to him, I know he'll make good. And when he promises me he'll never leave me, he'll never forget about me—I know he'll show up. Why? Because my God is not a bully that he would promise me the stars and the sand and then decide it was all a mean, cruel joke. So come with me. Pray with me. Cheer with me. Praise with me. And watch my God put on a show.