Come and see what God will do!

Every now and then, I get asked to speak for some youth event or something of the sort. I often speak on the very things I struggle with the most, like faith. Recently I read a book about George Muller, a great man of remarkable faith. George Muller; The Guardian of Bristol's Orphans. An amazing book--you could easily read it in a day, and everyone should.

George Muller, amongst the multitude of wonderful things he did, started the first orphanage of Bristol, England back in the 1800s. Starting an orphanage, though amazing in itself, may not be the most amazing thing in the world. Starting it with the trust and expectation that God would provide everything--EVERYTHING--for such a ministry is. George Muller was also a pastor, and though he truly desired to provide for the great need of countless homeless and needy orphans in Bristol, his main desire for beginning the orphanage was as a testament of faith to the members of his church and the community at large. George Muller determined to never ask for one cent in the support of his orphanages. In the sixty or so years of his life after beginning the orphanage, he never once asked for any provision, trusting that God would completely provide.

And he did.

I love this one story. George was in his office going over some business with one of his assistants. The daughter of friend and assistant, John Townsend was playing out in the garden below. George watched the then eight year old Abigail Townsend through his window with a smile; she was like a grand daughter to him. He loved her dearly. There was a knock on the door. It was the matron from Orphan house three. At this point in the orphanage history, there were three orphanages; I believe each had about 300 or more orphans living in their walls. The matron informed George that there was no food in the kitchen. none. It was breakfast time for 300 hungry orphans. George just said. "I'll take care of it."

I can almost picture the excitement and smile on his face, like a child on Christmas day, as he ran down the stairs, out the door and straight to Abigail in the garden.

"Abigail, come with me. Come and see what God will do!"

As they walked into Orphan house 3, George stood before the 300 orphans all quietly and patiently standing before their spots at their tables, empty plates and cups before them. George said, "Good Morning Children, Let us pray. Dear God, we thank you for what you are going to give us to eat. Amen."

The children pulled out their chairs across the wooden floor, and that was when a knock came at the door. The baker. He couldn't sleep the night before feeling as if he was supposed to make bread for the orphans, so he stayed up, and now had fresh bread for everyone.

"God has blessed us through you this morning!"

Then there was the next knock. The milkman. His cart had broken down right in front of the orphanage. The load was to heavy. It would need to be lightened in order to fix the cart. Milk was given, free of charge if they would only help him take it off the cart.

Sometimes God multiplies loaves and fish; other times he breaks down milk carts.

I have always thought that faith is something that I need to muster up; something I really need to work on. But the bible says it is given to us. Eph 2:8 says, "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.

Why does it seem that some Christians have a George Muller faith then, while others have...my kind.

The more we walk with God, the more he blesses our faith. The more time we spend with our Father, the more we trust him. George Muller read through his bible over 300 times in his Christian life. He became a Christian in his early 20s and died at 89. Do the math. This man loved God's word, and he was in love with his Lord, his constant provider.

Are we self-sufficient? Independent? In control of our situations? Bummer if we think so; we're missing out on a lot of excitement.

Where is my blog? right here.

I have had this blog for many years; all the way back to 2004. It didn't take me long to regret choosing a domain address as confusing and difficult to type as once-a-sinner-now-saved.blogspot.com. I thought it was cool at the time... Recently, I discovered that it is possible to change your blog's address with just a few simple clicks. Yes, it took me five years to discover this. Sinnernowsaved.blogspot.com should be much easier to remember. Soon after making this change, however, I realized that this will screw up any link ever made to my blog, as well as prevent many people from finding my blog being that it is no longer located at the old address. Oh foolish, foolish me. In fact perhaps no one will even read this because they won't be able to find my blog! Gasp!

What's that? Just change it back you say. Yes, this would make sense, but the first time I made the change, it messed with my layout a bit, and I lost a few things, so I dare not return to my old address for fear of doing irreversible damage to my page. I am not computer savvy enough to prevent these blog blunders. Sigh. sorry for all the confusion.

In other news, for those of you who perchance have stumbled upon this page despite the change of address, I have another new blog--an indie music blog with my friend, Taylor.

http://www.thekindestdays.blogspot.com/

I am pretty stoked about it. Taylor is a veritable Indie genius so hipster wisdom should abound.

Raw Chicken Stimulates the Imagination

I am currently in job purgatory--that place between college and career when one works a menial part time job often reserved for high school students. But its not that bad, it provides lots of time to think. I often pray, sing to myself, think about church planting, youth ministry, girls, family and friends, books, music, God. Some times when breading the raw chicken, I imagine that there was a strain of chicken zombieism that went unchecked; that some farm butchered and plucked those zombie chickens, and then shipped them to our pizza place. It wasn't their fault really--they didn't know; zombies often run around like chickens with their heads cut off--especially zombie chickens. As I quickly bread the chicken, I accidentally prick my skin on a chicken breast rib, contract the chicken zombie virus and begin rampaging the town of Roseau. The government sends in snipers to destroy all the strutting, clucking undead. But it's to late, soon all Roseau is running around, pecking at each other in a zombie stupor!

These are the mindless places mindless jobs take me. I have had many stressful, think-on-your-feet-or-crash-and-burn jobs, so this can be a pleasant change...for the time being, at least.

I recognize that even having a reliable job in small town Minnesota during a recession is a blessing in itself. Even though I am not in full time ministry right now, God is still providing opportunity to hone my skills, and serve within my own church. And though a pizza place is not the most exciting job in the world, I can't help but think that God has some lessons and opportunities here for me. The job has already challenged my pride (go minnimum wage college grad!), and I am beginning to see that if I put myself out there, God could really use me to touch lives for him through relationships I form. Pray that I take that leap--that I see the opportunities before me and take them. That I really love the people I work with. I want to bring meaning to this period in my life, to show the love of Christ to the people I encounter. I continually find myself imagining friends, family and co-workers on the day of judgement looking straight into my eyes and asking me why I never told them about Christ. That is so much scarier then zombie chickens, and yet, it seems so much easier to push out of my mind.

It shouldn't be.

What the...

My roommate from last year is a photographer. This has made me a professional model. Here is the story.

Taylor: Hey Tyler, let me take your picture.

Tyler: OK, let me do something stupid first.

(buzzzzz).

Tyler: Ha! There we go.

Taylor: Oh...wow...

One year later, I receive this email from Taylor.

"Dear Tyler

An image of you has sold through Getty images. It's the one of you against the pink background with your poorly shaved beard. A company paid close to $600 for it. Best of all that company lists itself as an "Addiction Agency." I laughed and laughed and laughed. And then laughed some more. Thought you might get a kick out of it. I owe you a cigar.

-Taylor"

I am the face of addicts everywhere.

Dog

My family is a pet family. We've had animals since I was very young. Fish, birds, cats, dogs, hamsters. Right now we have a cat and dog; so we're not quite the zoo we have been. Most of these pets have been wonderful, and quite smart. Our first dog wasn't.

It was perhaps the cutest stupid animal to ever gnaw a tennis shoe. One time this dog climbed onto our dinning room table...and peed. I have had many years to contemplate what was (or wasn't) going on in the head of this ridiculous animal. The only logical conclusion I can come to is something like "hmmm....this surface is often full of delicious food, I had better claim it as my territory." Dumb mutt.

I realize that my love for animals is conditional. I am so thankful that God's love for me is not. I have spent so much of my life trying to earn the salvation he has already freely given me. I can't earn his love through my works, and though I pee on the proverbial table all the time, God loves this stupid mutt! His love does not change.

A good friend shared some verses from Hebrews 10 with me; how we can confidently walk into the thrown room of God with clear consciences because Christ, our High Preist, goes before us. Awesome. I especially like verse 14,

"...by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy."

We are made perfect, yet are in the process of being made holy. Already but not yet. Already viewed as perfect even as we are slowly being made perfect. Our God is great. Our High Priest is beautiful.

Philosophy of Humor

It is my belief that even the lamest joke/pun will be found humorous to the recipient if the deliverer delights in said joke/pun.

If I am wrong, please don't correct me.

John's church plant

I met John one summer at camp. It's crazy to think that if either one of us had chosen a different path that Summer, I may have missed out on one of my most treasured friendships. I remember one particular week of camp when the youth revealed to us beyond a shadow of doubt the propensity towards wickedness in all mankind. All have sinned and fall short of God's glorious standard; try sleeping in a cabin of boys for a night and you will be convinced of that truth. They stole and hid our clothes, put toothpaste in each other's shoes, ran our boxer's up the flag pole (and through poison ivy...I won't explain how we found that one out), pushed a counselor's refurbished, collector's car down a narrow wooded path scratching the paint on the way, snuck out at night, and used my car shocks as their own personal trampoline. When we said one thing, they challenged us to our faces; practicing deliberate disobedience without a hint of remorse. Yet, when it came time for games and hanging out, we became their greatest buddies. The strong confidence we entered the week with had diminished to jello. We were exhausted, and as is the case at camp, we didn't have much free time. In fact, our only moment of peace was hitting the showers. One evening, as we stood in adjacent shower stalls, the hot water easing the stress from our aching muscles, we talked about our campers and the way they were treating us--the utter disrespect wearing us down. I don't know how that train got into the men's shower room, I swear there were no tracks, but it plowed us both at the same time. We saw with heaven sent clarity that we were those campers before our God. There, standing naked in our stalls, we revealed our darkest sins to one another; the ways we each were spitting in the face of our Saviour. Two sinful servants standing in the shower room. John was half dressed by the time I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, tears falling from our cheeks as we realized who we were and what we had done to our Lord. We embraced each other and prayed.

That's when one of our campers walked in.

It is a bad idea to hug in a shower room while wrapped in a towel (or any state of dress for that matter). It wasn't until later that John and I even considered what our moment of embracing prayer must have looked like to a horribly confused (and potentially scarred) camper. Its fun to look back at the awkwardness of that situation, but even more so, it is amazing to look back and see God grabbing the hearts of two friends, convicting them, and preparing them for the plans He has for each of us.

John inspires me like very few do. At the age of 23, he has already helped form a church, having lay pastored and preached there for over 2 years. Though he has never gone to a Christian college, his passion and utter excitement for learning, growing, and seeking our faith supersedes that of just about anyone I know, as does his knowledge. John loves God, and loves people. Period. God will use him, because he is willing to be used by God.

Three or four summers ago, my sister had a bible study that John's wife made the over an hour long trek from their home town to attend every week. This gave John and I a good chance to meet, play at the park with his little boy, and catch up. One week, John told me of his dreams to plant a church some day. I casually mentioned to him how Winnipeg might be a good city to plant a church, and we (somewhat) jokingly began to dream how wonderful it would be to be in ministry together some day.

Two weeks ago John quit his job to focus full time on preparing for a church plant; his current thought being in Winnipeg! John has his church planting assessment with ConvergeUSA (our church conference--formerly called the Baptist General Conference) in January. It is so exciting to see a dream beginning to sprout some legs. I share these stories to invite you to pray for John as he prepares for this next step, and makes his final decisions as to where God is calling him.

John has also invited me to consider joining him in this church plant. At this point I couldn't even tell you the likelihood of such a possibility becoming reality; only that I am seriously and prayerfully considering it. I beg your prayers for discernment and wisdom in this very important decision. I believe that God can, and will give us each a very clear sense of where he is calling us, and where he can best use us. I do not want my excitement for working with a beloved friend in a familiar city to distract me from any other path God may have planned for me. It would be easy to stop looking elsewhere for ministry positions. Please pray that wherever God takes each of us, that we will humbly follow his lead in obedience and that we will love him and love people. Period.

Bad Real Estate

"This is no gopher hole!"

And now for something completely ordinary

I created my own super hero in third grade. He had his own back story; a dapper young orphan boy with the secret identity of LIGHTNING BOY!(...soon to become Lightning Man--a much more heroic name). My mom even sewed me a costume (under strict design guidelines). After I drew my first draft of my hero, I showed him to one of my friends, who promptly pulled the paper from my hands and said, "Nice, all you need now is this" and carelessly wrote a crooked, jagged "L" on his chest. He took no care to consider how the contours of Lightning Man's muscular physique might affect the way the "L" lay on his chest. He did not consider how the pressure with which he pressed the pencil down upon the paper might make a line much darker then the that seen throughout the rest of the composition. He didn't ask, "Will this "L" match the likeness of the rest of the hero's attire?" No. Instead he made a line that could hardly pass for an "L" even by the standards of a preschooler. Most people would respond by erasing the dastardly line and shading over the mark. My response was to furiously pull my offender's hair. I am sure I almost scalped the poor guy. It took me a few moments to realize fire was shooting from my eyeballs, and that I had gone all Hulk on the poor kid before I sheepishly apologized.

Oh the irony of ironies. I find now that my greatest joy of artistic expression is to take another's piece of art and to draw upon it. Hypocrite that I am, There really isn't any form of expression that I currently enjoy more. I have begun to take old paintings (prints only is my rule...it would be a true shame to ruin someones original), and draw ironic scenes over top. I don't know precisely what it is about my generation that seems to so greatly appreciate the ironic...art, fashion, music, literature...maybe these pieces are my tongue in cheek way of pointing out how we are continually corrupting the natural beauty of God's creation with commercialization and cheap thrills. Maybe our joy in irony is simply the recognition that their truly is nothing new under the sun, and so we simply strive to find new ways of looking at the old. All I know for sure is that I get a kick out of the ironic. I mean really, there is nothing cool about an old man's cardigan sweater....but seriously, old cardigan's are awesome!

A Toast to Maturity

Summer is coming to an end. The days are getting shorter. The occasional leaf is shedding its green for a coat of yellow, with reds and oranges anxiously awaiting their turn. The air is getting warmer--huh? what!?! (...strange dyslexic Minnesota--reading our seasons backwards!). It is a time of new beginnings, and has always been a favorite time of year for me.

This warm air is filled with even more excitement then in years passed now that I am no longer a student. As Summer's end quickly approaches, I realize I have written nothing about what God has been doing in my life since I stepped from a stage, tassel bobbing and clinging to my beard, with an expensive piece of paper--the result of several years of studying (and falling asleep) in the library--held proudly in my hand. Soon after graduating, I had my 24th birthday. There are a few birthdays that are significant moments in a young persons life--16, when a crazy young person is allowed behind the wheel of several hundred pounds of fast moving metal, 18, when a crazy young person is allowed to choose our country's leaders, and 21, when a crazy young person is allowed to consume intoxicating beverages; but for me 24 hit with a wave of intensity that no birthday before has. Walls of panic and depression began to close in on me as I experienced a "crisis" (here's hoping its not mid life; I'd like to at least reach 50!). I began to recognize that I have been acting like...a crazy young person. Though I have technically been an adult for 6 years, there is very little to suggest that fact. "Man" is a title that should be earned. There are far to many 20-something, 30-something boys--and I am one of them. I am not a man, and seeing that scared and saddened my heart. Though I have held many leadership roles throughout my life, many of which have been in areas of ministry, I am beginning to see the depravity of my own spiritual maturity. I have pridefully viewed myself as a "mature Christian" when I am still living as a child in my faith. I have began to see that there is very little scripture stored in my heart, and lots of garbage taking residence. I had the wonderful opportunity to work at a bible camp this summer, something that most twenty-somethings don't get the opportunity to do, and God revealed a lot to me there. With the majority of my co-workers being under 20, I was impressed with their commitment to working hard, and serving God. They spurred me on in ways they may not realize, and I hope I did the same for them.

I believe that perhaps I have convinced many others (as I convinced myself) of a spiritual maturity in my life, but maturity spreads its roots deeply into integrity; it is not merely who I am in the public eye, but who I am when all alone that speaks of my maturity. God opened a door for me to meet with other Christian men on a weekly basis to talk about our hidden selves--the behind the door selves; the hidden boys that keep us from being open, honest, and Godly men. I am not there yet, but at least now I can say I'm trying.

This summer I told many embarrassing stories from my life to campers around the campfire with the hope of drawing analogies that teach. "Stupid moments from the life of Tyler--that teach." I will try once again.

Every September, Providence has a Welcome Banquet for all the students to usher in a new year. A few years back, as I sat dressed in my finest (a thrift shop suit) at a beautifully decorated table amidst some of my favorite people, in dim candle light with the murmuring of people visiting after a summer apart, my friend across from me said, "Tyler, we haven't visited for quite some time. We should have a nice, deep conversation." I responded by lifting my cup of tea, saying, "Yes we should," and then dumping the cup in my lap. Not on purpose. I missed my mouth. By about 4 inches. It was as if a piece of information was attempting to jump the synapses of my brain, but hadn't gone to the gym for awhile, and didn't have the strength to make the leap. It is hard to have a deep conversation with a girl when your table companions are laughing in your general direction and you have a cup of hot tea wetting your crotch.

Believe it or not; I think there is an analogy for spiritual maturity hidden in this story (I'll allow you to judge whether it be a good one or not). Like me in my three piece, thrift shop suit, we so often put on our best "spiritual" garb so that we can look the part for our brothers and sisters around us. Yet, though we hold God's word--the living water--in our hands, we rarely allow it to make a connection, drinking it down as we should. We all to easily get distracted from conversing with our creator and God, simply content with looking mature rather then being mature.

Yet, there is no need crying over spilt milk (or tea). The important thing is that we strive towards maturity. Like a bibbed child in a high chair, we can lift the living water to our mouths; we may spill, we may emphatically spit it out or miss the mark all together, but at least we are trying, digging in to the food of God's word. We are learning to find nourishment in him, learning to feed ourselves. We all have to go through one messy faced, spaghetti smeared, high chair photo (what parent hasn't taken one of those?) before we learn to eat like adults.

It is important that we examine our maturity. Where are we in our walk? Is it where we believe we are, or are we fooling ourselves? Are you drinking in the living water or are you just holding the cup. Drink up! Savor the beauty of of our Lord. Drink and be satisfied. Become a mature adult, and enjoy a nice, deep conversation.

...maybe put a napkin in your lap.

Bird, Bones, and Something New

Considering I haven't written anything on here in over five months, I feel I shall break silence. Often, I feel if I have nothing thoughtful or witty to say, then I have no point in writing. It simply wouldn't be worth reading. And I'll tell you flat out, this post won't be worth reading, but it sure will be worth listening to (I hope). After all, what better way to break the silence then with a few tunes. This is what I've been listening to lately.

First off, nothing super new being that his album came out in January; I have been listening to a whole lot of Andrew Bird lately. The guy is a veritable genius--I could swoon over his talent as a multi-instrumentalist, or his amazing voice, but what really gets me is his whistle. Yes. Whistle. You know, that crisp sound from puckered lips; that simple talent most of us learnt in elementry school, and save solely for those moments of thumb twiddling or remembering the Andy Griffith show theme song. Not Andrew. His whistling is done on stage in front of thousands of adoring fans. Yeah, he just learned how to whistle a whole lot better then the rest of us. You will just have to check him out for yourselves if you have not yet had the pleasure.

Secondly, Brand New is coming out with a new album Daisy on Sept. 22. I fell in love with these guys a couple of years ago with their album The Devil and God are Raging inside of Me. Knowing that Lead singer, Jesse Lacey grew up in the church, it is a fascinating listen. One of my favorite albums. You can hear searching and struggle in his lyrics, voice and tone. On the bands myspace page, you can currently hear several (if not all) of their new albums tracks. It didn't grab me the way Tbe Devil and God... did; I think it will have to grow on me a bit, but good none the less. I suggest listening to their last album before checking out Daisy if you are new to the band (oh, and just click on their highlighted name above to get to their myspace page).

Lastly, an act that I am extremely excited about is the pet project of one of my favorite actors, Ryan Gosling. The guy can sing. It is a very unique project being that both Ryan, and band mate Zach Shields didn't really play the instruments they used until approaching the project, and they committed to playing as few takes as possible before recording. Some would say sloppy and stupid, but I say it adds to the charm. Add to that a choir of children dressed in Halloween costumes singing on each track, and you have something incredibly unique and special. Not every one's cup of tea, but I love it. They are called Dead Man's Bones, and their debut releases October 6th.

One more treasure I've discovered is not a band but rather an online music store that is pretty great. The thing about lala that I love besides the fact that they are 100% legal, their prices are great, and that they have almost any band you can think of is that you can listen to nearly any album in its entirety one time through before deciding to buy it. I apologize to my Canadian friends; rumor has it that you cannot access this gift from lala in the great white north. I comfort you with the fact that you have CBC Radio 2 and 3, which, really, is a pretty amazing gift to a music lover's heart in its own right.

There is a high correlation between this joke and my laughter

Where The Sentimental Childhood Memories Are

Here is a movie I am incredibly excited for! Maurice Sendak's classic children's story Where the Wild things Are is coming to the big screen, under the direction of Spike Jonze. 

Its like cozying on the coach with my sisters in our PJs eating dry cereal or vigorously peeling an orange before bedtime, listening to Dad read a bed time story all over again.   *and contented sigh*

Arcade Fire, giant puppet monsters, classic children's story....

This trailer makes me giddy.

God is wooing me

I am reading an incredible book right now called Incarnation, by Thomas F. Torrance. I'm not super far yet (though I am supposed to turn in a review on it by tomorrow, sigh...shame on me), but it has already blessed me deeply. In my life, I see how much I am Israel; stubborn and rebellious, running away as God pursues. I have not been spending much intentional time with God for quite some time, and there is very little in my life to suggest that Christ is my first love. Yet, he persists. God is wooing my heart and I am amazed. This book is giving me a new and clearer understanding about why God has acted out his plan the way he has; a deeper understanding of the Incarnate Christ, and of the beauty of a love that is beyond comprehension. As I have been reading, there are those moments when all I can say is, WOW!

It's a bit like when a guy is in love, and she does that beautiful and unique thing that is distinctly her, and he thinks, "My goodness, how in the world am I so lucky as to be with this person?"

Right now, I look at my savior and creator and say, "Jesus, how is it that your love is so big and so merciful that you call me your bride?"


I am sure I'll put up a few quotes, or share a few ideas from this book soon (...soonish).

I don't belong here

Back when I was in high school I was voted Mr. Congeniality of my Sr. class. I felt honored to be given such a title (though I was really hoping for "luscious locks"...), but in one sense, I felt cursed--I could hang out with anybody, but never really felt as if I belonged anywhere. I was a drifter; my connections with my classmates for the most part were amiable, but not deep.

Providence has been my community for five years now, and it has become dear to my heart, so much so that I often grieve at the thought of leaving this place. I've hung out in my professors homes, had fish put in my slippers, performed in front of the friendliest crowds ever during Prov Coffee Houses, danced to "another one bites the dust" numerous times when friends hooked up, puked after wrestling matches, swam in ditches, raced sticks on the Rat River, hucked apples into the dark night sky, ate bugs, preached sermons, mourned the death of beautiful lives, and rejoiced in life found in the beautiful love of Christ's death. I have went deep with these people. This is where I belong.

But, really, it isn't.

College is a peculiar place and time in life, where one comes with the ultimate purpose of leaving. All my years here point me to the door. "Come forth to learn, go forth to teach."

I heard a sermon awhile back by Paul Matthies that reminded me that, as Christians, we are always to remember that this earthly world is not our home. we are not to set our roots to deep, because God will soon call us home with him. Like Israel and Judah before us, we are in exile.

It is the same thing here (albeit on a smaller scale); Prov is not my home. God has a purpose bigger then this place for me. I feel it. I am out growing this place I've called home for so long. Though, my friends here are some of the best I've ever made, our relationships are changing as they enter into long term relationships, marriages, ministries, and countries that pull them a bit further from me (and, appropriately so), tweaking, just a little, who we are to each other. I love them all so much, but once again, I have to say goodbye to a family.

It is a scary thing to know I have to leave; to drift once again with the fear of not really having a place to belong. The fear of being alone. God is teaching me a lot about trust right now. It has been encouraging to look back over the last several years, seeing that in all periods of transition, God had things worked out even before I arrived. I am finding peace in that, though little comfort. But I'm not supposed to be comfortable...I'm not home yet.

Restless

Restless--scared,
I know that you care,
but right now I just don't see how this could end well,
and its just the beginning.
I usually play it by ear,
Knowing there's nothing to fear.

But carelessness drives a fast car and I'm walking.

I'm worried and alone, and I'm feeling prone
to fall on my face.
Failure, disgrace.
I'm scared to leave this comfortable space.
Pushed out of the womb and into the tomb

But if I don't die, how can I live?

where will I go? I'm scared to be alone!
Do I trust you'll be there? --(...Somthing about lilies and birds of the air...)
I want someone with skin on
...sometimes they just seem more real.

But I know that no one is more real than You.

You ran to me, I'll fall to You.
There isn't anything else I can do.
Tomorrow's a worrier,
and he's full of himself,
So I'll set him back down
up on the shelf.

We'll read that story tomorrow.

If I had a Snoozatron, perhaps I wouldn't fall asleep in the library

Sometimes I struggle falling asleep at night. recently I have started writing at least one joke every night before I go to sleep. I now have enough jokes for a very poor comedy sketch (poor, unless of course, my whole audience is very tired). Then I practice my routine as I slowly drift off...

I admire Wallace's ingenuity.

I wonder what sheep do when they have trouble sleeping.

Valentine's Day

Today is Valentine's Day.  Any day devoted to celebrate the essence of who God is; the one who is love, is beautiful in my book.

Talking with a friend, he expressed to me how much he hates this day because of how commercial it is.  I understand his frustration.  I believe we can make this day what it should be.

Billions of people daily go without the clean water we so greatly take for-granted (I wonder how many liters I used today while washing dishes?).

About 25,000 people die daily of either hunger or hunger related causes--the majority being children.  This is about 1 person every 3 seconds.

According to BBC, in 2005 the US and Europe alone profited $15.5 billion in trafficked forced labor.  This includes the sex trade.

Thousands of Children are recruited or forced to become Child Soldiers throughout the world.  Girls are not excluded from this life style as they are often forced into the military for sexual purposes, combat, and to lay out explosives.  It is impossible to know exactly how many children are forced into this life style since so much is hidden on this issue.

In Winnipeg (The city I live near and do my internship in) there are an estimated 1700 homeless.

Someone you cross paths with today is having a really lousy day, and doesn't see God's face.

God deeply loves the marginalized, hurting people of this world, but his expression of this love comes through our hands and feet as Christians.  There doesn't seem to be a place for "Singles awareness day" when there are so many people in need of love.  

I hope this didn't discourage you, but encourages you and inspires you to live out love.  I hope you celebrate love today, and do so by demonstrating it to someone who needs it.

Why Tooth and Nail doesn't Suck Eggs: part III

Teenage boys have angst. I was a teenage boy once. With an acne covered face, pipe cleaner arms, and my perpetual awkwardness around girls (hmmm..., since I don't have stud appeal going for me, I'll win the ladies by sticking insects in my mouth, balancing on teeter-totters, and snorting jello cubes. OK, the jello cubes were in college.), I turned to the elixir that all teenage boys drown their angst in; beautiful, blissful, angstful emo music.

My arms are still pipe cleaners (but I am getting a gym pass), and I still eat insects (they are good protein). I have, however, given up standing on see-saws (one broken arm to many for those shenanigans), and only get the occasional zit in times of stress. And in those times of stress, I still turn to those emo bands that helped an awkward teenage boy express his emotions oh so many years ago.

Please allow me to clarify. These were back in the days before emo became a swear word and joke in the music world. A couple bands in the mid nineties (Sunny day Real Estate, being one of the primary and most important; Fugazi being the first) formed this new and interesting genre, and by the late nineties-early 00s emo was the thing to be, so bands in high school would ask,

"what should we call our genre?"

"I don't know....emo is cool. lets be emo."

"OK."

Pretty soon every band was doing this until what was "unique" and cool eventually became lame and satirized to no end.

It happened to grunge before it (remember when everyone liked Creed, and then when everyone hated Creed?), and will happen to "indie" next (don't worry, it won't affect the music...all the bands that once called themselves emo just call themselves indie or punk now and still basically sound the same).

There are those bands that have a way of helping you understand yourself; that speak into a situation that you couldn't quite express any other way. Singing "Getting over you" with Acceptance after a high school break up, or singing a Copeland song with that cute girl from youth group on your mind that you know is out of your league; these were the bands that told me what I was feeling when I couldn't quite peg it myself.

A couple of those bands on Tooth and Nail were Further Seems Forever, The Juliana Theory, Anberlin, Mae, and underOATH.

Its not hard to see most of these bands success and contribution to the music world. Anberlin is now a major label success, Mae has been on Capitol records, and is now doing there own thing independently (a current trend it seems; Radiohead, Switchfoot...).

UnderOATH first created the classic screamo sound that every screamo band would eventually try to emulate with their acclaimed They're Only Chasing Safety, and then drastically changed their sound and hit number 2 on the billboard 200 in 2006, the first time a Christian artist had done so since '97--not just a Christian band--a METALCORE Christian band; #2 on the Billboard 200! wow. Their latest album, Lost in the Sound of Separation only got the best of reviews from just about everyone.

The Juliana Theory developed quite a fan base, and developed the emo genre greatly. Singer and guitarist, Brett Detar's other project Zao has done volumes for Christians in the metalcore genre (underOATH included)--and simply for metalcore in general--having been labeled one of the hardest bands....ever.

But the band I really want to focus on is the one I called favorite throughout high school.

Further Seems Forever did emo right. I jumped on board with their second album, How to start a fire, but each of their records were brilliant (each of the three albums had a different lead vocalist).

Arguably, FSF greatest contribution to the world of music isn't anything they did, but rather jump starting the career of Chris Carrabba of Dashboard Confessional fame. I say arguably because I love FSF far more then Dashboard (don't get me wrong, I feel no shame in stating that Dashboard is great).

Each lead singer brought something unique and beautiful to the mix that set apart each album. Yet, it never felt like you were listening to a new band...even though the style of lyrics and singing change quite a bit.

with Chris Carrabba on The Moon is Down, you got that standard emo vibe. Just beautiful music. It's really no surprise that Jeremy Enigk of Sunny Day R. Estate came along to help Chris get Dashboard going strong (Oh, and there's another side note. At one point the famed Jeremy Enigk was on T&N records with a band called Poor Old Lu with the likes of Aaron and Jesse Sprinkle--Aaron now an amazing producer and head of the band Fair, and Jesse drumming for Demon Hunter as well as several other bands).

Jason Gleason (now of ActionReaction) led for their second album, How to Start a Fire. Jason brought his amazing voice, and his strangeness. "...the trees are tired from breathing sharks keep moving never stopping..."--what the heck kind of lyrics are these?! Even if the album makes no sense, it is still one of my favorites. ever.

Jon Bunch (formerly of Sense Field) also brought his unique, beautiful and warm voice to the helm of FSF. He also brought the most powerful lyrics that the band ever had. Hide Nothing is more worshipful then many worship albums. Lead the Way has become my life song.

Tooth and Nail deserves props for discovering some truly beautiful and innovative bands that lead in the formation of modern emo music. I'll pump the fists of my pipe cleaner arms to these bands any day.

David After Dentist aka best youtube video ever!

I can't wait to have kids!

This is what the father had to say about the video.

"This is my 7 year old son who had an extra tooth removed last summer, 2008.

I had the camera because he was so nervous before and I wanted him to see the before and after.

He was so out of it after, I had to carry him out of the office. The staff was trying to keep from laughing. I had tears from laughing so hard.

He is doing fine now and the teeth are great.

Best of all he is the best kid as is his brother William. I couldnt have asked for two better sons!"

I love seeing dads enjoying being dads.

When nothing is certain, you are.

When I feel broken and unloved, I am broken and deeply loved.

When I wonder if I am worth anyone's time, you long for time with me.

When every fiber of my being screams failure, you scream son.

When I long to be held, you remind me I am.

When nothing is beautiful, you are.

Why Tooth and Nail doesn't Suck Eggs: part II

When thinking early Tooth and Nail, people often think of punk music;  MxPx, Slick Shoes, Calibretto 13.  Me, I entered the T&N universe in their emo glory days...and I'm not even ashamed to say it (Further Seems Forever will always be close to my heart). 

Though it would be hard to guess looking at the label today, T&N has also made some pretty significant contributions to the folk rock world.

Lets start with a band called Danielson that signed with T&N  back in '97.  Daniel Smith was just a young gun at the time and had created a band with his siblings as a thesis project for college.  What other label out there at the time would sign Danielson, Christian or otherwise? You just don't hear bands like Danielson on Sparrow records(...his voice is like nails on a chalk board, yet peculiarly endearing at the same time).  T&N has opened the doors to several young artists who wouldn't have had a chance anywhere else. This was an incredibly wise move for T&N.  When we look to the indie music cannon, Pitchfork, we see that Danielson (who is Daniel Smith) is one of the great kings of the indie realm.  He has gone by many a title.  Danielson, Brother Danielson, Danielson Famile, and TriDanielson.  Though his name has changed, the music world's respect for him has not (Pitchfork gave his album, Ships, a 9.1 rating...this is almost unheard of).  And this is why Danielson (and therefore Tooth and Nail) is so important:

Danielson befriended and mentored a young fellow named Sufjan Stevens (one of the biggest names--the indie darling--of the indie scene) , and released his record, Seven Swans on his label, Sounds Familyre.  Yes, Daniel Smith has his own label with many names that have cult followings (Wovenhand and Half-handed cloud are a couple of my faves).  

Sufjan has his own label (asthmatic kitty records) that has made quite the stir in the indie pot as well.  You may have heard some of these names if indie music is a world you commonly frequent: My Brightest Diamond, Welcome Wagon, Shapes and Sizes ...

Yes, it's true, this indie tree is beginning to stray far from it's T&N roots.  Fair enough, but I just like to ponder what the music world may have missed out on if Tooth and Nail didn't give  a young Daniel Smith his big break, and he in turn didn't reach out to dear, young Suf.

There are a few other folk legends that had a stint on Tooth and Nail as well-- Pedro the Lion (David Bazan), Damien Jurado, Denison Witmer (he went by the name "The River Bends" at the time).  All of these guys have played a huge roll in the indie-folk scene, and have albums that have received stunning reviews.  Tooth and Nail brought Pedro the Lion to the world (something that they may not be so proud of anymore due to his controversial content; David Bazan also recently announced his becoming agnostic).  Whether you are a David Bazan fan or not, there is no denying the incredible influence he has played in the indie music world (David Bazan rubs shoulders with Ben Gibbard from Death Cab For Cutie, for example).  

Damien Jurado has had an album produced by David Bazan, and got his big break when Jeremy Enigk of Sunny Day Real Estate fame spotted him, and encouraged Sub Pop records to sign him.  They released his first full length album back in '97; the same year T&N released an E.P. for Jurado.  This is significant because it opened Jurado to two different audiences; widening his fan base.

Witmer hangs out with the likes of Rosie Thomas and Sufjan Stevens, as is apparent in Rosie's album, These Friends of Mine in which both Sufjan and Witmer make appearances.  Witmer had released several albums before he released The River Bends on T&N, but to have that caliber of an artist on a label says something about the qaulity of the label.

So there you have it, Several influential artists who have all had a stint--or even began on T&N; each owing a debt of gratitude to this label for bringing their music to a wider public.  Who would have thought that the label that brings us the hardcore gutteral screams of Underoath could be the same label that shared with us the gentle folk melodies of Denison Witmer?  

More to come soon.    

Why Tooth and Nail doesn't Suck Eggs: part I

I am a bit of a music snob. I admit it. In fact, I go beyond admitting it, I relish in the title. I like to try to follow the indie scene. I occasionally read paste, HM, pursue the web for music blogs, check out who pitchfork is currently raving about, and on the rare occasion, I have even cracked the pages of RollingStone. By no means do I declare myself an expert in the world of indie music. I am just an indie loving, hipster-want-to-be, who is not ashamed to admit his crush on Rebecca St. James (and really...that’s not very hipster of me). Acknowledging that my opinions do not follow the strict sect of hipsterdom, or their cannon--Pitchfork, I have to bring to surface what I believe to be a great sin of the indie music world. This is the out right down play of Tooth and Nail Records. Senior writer for Spin magazine and author of "Body Piercing Saved My Life; inside the phenomenon of Christian rock" (great book by the way), Andrew Beaujon says, "...it's really quite astonishing how few of Seattle's hipsters know that there is a local independent rock label that routinely sells hundreds of thousands of CDs and it isn't named Sub Pop or Barsuk."

I confess, I have been rocked and nurtured in the proverbial embrace of T&N since I was an indie infant, so they are a label close to my heart whom I would fight tooth and nail (pun completely intended) for. However, as I approach my critical indie adolescence I have become aware of a few of T&N supposed "faults".

It is true that Tooth and Nail has a niche that will follow them to the ends of the earth. Any band who signs to T&N is bound to have thousands of fans before they have even started touring (heck, if in some hellish parallel universe Nickelback signed with T&N, they might even gain a couple fans...I shutter at the thought) just because of the immense fan base that T&N as a label carries.

It is also true that many of Tooth and Nail's bands sound a lot alike; those Anberlin fill-ins after the band's exit and move to Universal Republic Records. But lets not hold that against T&N either. T&N is a business, and these are the bands their target audience (the youngins) are listening to these days. Certainly they have some bands that currently fall far from the category of pop alternative (whether for better or worse, I will leave you to decide)--Neon Horse, Joy Electric, Surrogate, and Corey Crowder are a few that come straight to mind.

Perhaps the greatest thing that Tooth and Nail has going against their "cool" factor in the indie scene is what Andrew Beaujon calls "one of the last politically correct prejudices"--that its ok to ignore a Christian label because it's a Christian label.

The problem is that in the fast past world of indie music, the great accomplishments of Tooth and Nail have been forgotten, or flat out ignored because of their Christian status. And so here it is, here I make my oh-so-bold claim; there are few indie labels that have made such an impact on both the general and indie market as Tooth and Nail.

"What!" you say. Are you seriously claiming that the label that brings us KJ-52 has been one of the greatest contributors to the indie music scene?!?!

Yes. Yes I am.

In my next few posts I will attempt to reveal the impact T&N has had in the music world in the past sixteen years.

Instead of a show

The best songs are those that reach in to your chest, grab your heart and twist a bit just to remind you its there--and challenge you to live that way. This evening I heard a song I've heard before, but this time I really listened to it, and it breaks me. It's Jon Foreman's Instead of a Show.

"You turned your back on the homeless, the ones who don't fit in your plan, quit playing religion games, there's blood on your hands."

I am afraid for my future in ministry. But not simply in ministry, I am afraid for my walk as a Christian. How much of it is a show? How much of my integrity am I willing to sacrifice for comfort? Will I pursue justice, or convenience, God or glory, security or servanthood? Who's name will be exalted? Will I walk the path of ease and comfort or that of wreckless abandon to my Savior? Where does my trust lie? What is the value of my words?

And forget all these "What will I do" questions--What am I doing?

It is so easy for me to cry out for justice. But crying is just crying. Babies do that. I want to be known as a man who pursues Justice.

Instead of a show.

But

Merry Christmas from the Stynsberg Fam!

Last night, our church had it's children's Christmas program once again. This is one of my highlights every year. The greatest message ever told placed in the hands of 3 and 4 year olds just seems so appropriate; not unlike those peculiar messengers who were first told by angels to go and proclaim the Messiah's birth, wandering out of breath, and with the smell of sheep on their clothes to the bed of a king wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger.

After the program there were cookies and visiting, laughter and hugs, and Foosball (I had to school some little kids in some Foos). As we were playing, a little boy, probably five, ran to the table to address his friend,

"Owen, I have been looking all over for you! I want to play with you. We have a world to save! We must defeat evil!"
I bellowed,
" Yes! Go save the world! Defeat evil where ever it may lurk!"

They made me smile and laugh, and reminded me that Christmas is all about a little baby boy who came to earth to save the world, bring peace, and defeat evil.

Well done boys. Thats the Christmas Spirit.

Kids teach me a lot, but I learn from adults occasionally too. Pastor Pat talked about the significance of a single, simple word in the Christmas story: but.

"..and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."--Luke 2:18-19

You don't need to be a Greek scholar to catch the significance of this word. "But" always means there is an idea different then that which has already been presented. Notice that everyone who heard what the shepherds shared were amazed. It is easy to be amazed with such an amazing story! But it was Mary who held on to it all. When everyone else's amazement eventually faded in the distractions, and business of life; Mary pondered and continued to hold onto it all.

In the loudness of the Season, will the amazement of what Christ has done fade in presents, Christmas specials on TV, and to much egg nog, or will we continually ponder the Incarnate God in the body of a baby boy who came to save us?

God Bless, Friends! Merry Christmas.

Getting to know my soul

I try to be careful how much of myself I reveal on my blog. The internet is a big frontier with many wandering and exploring eyes, and I don't know how I feel about letting my most personal bagage spill out for anyone to see. And yet, it is so easy to do; to make a blog a personal counselor. You can say whatever you want, be as open or closed as you want, and not have to worry about having to look into someone elses eyes in person-to-person vulnerability. And you still get to share yourself and have the satisfaction of imagining whomever you want reading your blog, and having sympathy for you.

At the same time, it is just as easy to only present your best face on your blog, only revealing the pieces you want others to see. Blogs are very strange things, and a fairly lousy way of really getting to know a person honestly.

I think a good question to ask while writing a blog is, "is this for my benefit only, or will someone else get something out of this." I confess, I was quite tempted to spill my guts on this blog, but gut stains are a horrible mess to clean up, and the only reason I would do it is to make myself feel good, and avoid the actual benefit of talking to real people about my real issues, and really sorting them out through real connections in real relationship. With real confrontation.

I picked up Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell Again, a book I started reading over a year ago, and never finished. I reread a chapter, and as a result, have been feeling pretty lousy the last couple days. If I can summarize it by memory, it basically deals with the masks we put on to hide all of the pain we live in; how salvation is a current state and not just a future state, but how so many people refuse to live in the redemption and salvation that Christ offers now, because we are afraid to connect with our souls. To connect with our souls would mean we would have to be honest with ourselves about the pain we carry, and to do that would mean we would have to be honest with others.

It is truly amazing how a guy who grew up in a Christian home with loving parents, good grades, good friends, and a good church could still have garbage in his past that stings in the present. I think we all have those things that hurt, those things that we don't want to admit to ourselves, things we pretend don't really matter that much. And so we disconnect ourselves from them, but the pain affects how we live our day to day lives, and we can't escape on our own.

We need to confess. It is easier to tell the whole world over the internet then it is to sit down with the one or two people who really need to hear our heart's pain, and who need to share with us as well. Brush your soul with someone else's, so that you can live freely, so that you can be healed and live in the redemption of Christ. Salvation is now.

Challenge

I challenge anyone to watch an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and not cry. I suffice to say it is not humanly possible.

Why I won't be getting that shirt for Christmas

I am a self proclaimed music junkie. Like many people with my condition, I own quite a few band tee shirts. back in the day, you could expect to find a "fruit of the loom" or "Hanes" tag on your shirt, but know when you check the collar, chances are you will find a narrow tag that reads "American Apparel". The loom is a thing of the past, and Michael Jordan won't be getting his Hanes on nobody anymore, because American Apparel seems to be the new tee to print on. And apparently, for good reason. First, lets face it...their clothes are dang comfy, and heck! They look good! Second, they are made in the U.S. No Sweatshops. To a generation that is perhaps more socially aware then ever before and eager to fight for social justice, this seems like a pretty good deal. Hip, cheap, clothes that look good, feel good and don't exploit the third world. Sweet.

...to bad they exploit women. I won't be buying any American Apparel clothing ever again.

If you have a Facebook or MySpace Account, chances are you have seen an American apparel ad. American Apparel has garnered a reputation for its sexualized advertisements, but now they have taken it a step further--American Apparel now advertises with nudity.

I am not a fan of blog rants, but for this case, I will break my own code, and let the steam fly. How any company can be irresponsible enough to have their web page laid out in such a way that any random person can stumble upon nudity without a single written warning is beyond my comprehension. How they can get away with it is even more boggling. But this is what really stokes my fire--why is it that so many Christian bands, causes, organizations, and schools are printing on these tees? Granted, American Apparel hasn't always used nudity, but they have always had sexualized advertising, and it only takes a quick Google search to see that American Apparel CEO Dov Charney is a bit of a shady character. In an effort to make this blog less uncomfortable then it already is, I'll give a couple links for those who would like to read up on this guy.
http://abcnews.go.com/2020/Business/story?id=1362781
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14082498/

So, I end with this question; what kind of message are we sending as Christians when we buy clothes from a brand that identifies them self in such a way? What behavior are we condoning by buying a shirt with an American Apparel tag? No one may know its an American Apparel shirt, but they are still making money. Price, comfort and fashion...even "American-made" ethics cannot balance the scale when the exploitation of 50% of the human race sits on the other side. So, I encourage you to take off your American Apparel clothes....that's what their models are doing.

Simple Pleasures

The last couple of days have been beautiful here in southern Manitoba. I have been told that tomorrow it is supposed to be 16 Celsius. For my American friends, let me delve into my knowledge of the last 4 years living in Canada and convert that for you. That is….pretty nice out. The other day, I sat outside on the bank of the river down the bridal path in the sun reading a book, and I was reminded of the simple pleasures I find in this place.

One of those most definitely is the Bridal path; a beautiful path through the woods along the river. I love to wander the paths in those times I need to be alone, to think, to pray, to procrastinate (let's be honest here), to yell at God, to praise God, to be myself before God. It’s amazing how often I will see deer or other wildlife. Just the other day as I was sitting on the river bank, I saw what looked like a log floating along…until I realized it was swimming--towards me. This muskrat (at least I assume it was a muskrat) swam right towards me to within a few feet, starred quizzically at me for a couple of seconds, and then dove beneath the murky waters. I heard the knocking of a woodpecker, the rustling of branches, saw the glint of sun on the water, and was struck by the beauty of the moment.

Walks. I love walks here at Prov. Whether it be late at night under the shining stars, unpolluted by city light, or during the day, trudging out past the lagoon and through the woods, or simply walking to and from my apartment building to the school. I walk back and forth a lot living in Prov house, and though at times it becomes tedious, and I choose to hope in my car and drive the distance instead, I am trying to be a bit more environmentally (and wallet) friendly and walk often. One of my favourite parts of this walk earlier this year was a bush I would walk by. It was thick with green leaves, and every time I would walk by, about 20 or so birds would fly out. It always boggled me; like natures version of how many clowns can you fit in one car. Some of my best conversations at Prov have been on late night walks with friends.

The Cafeteria is another joy of mine here at Prov. I love when all of my friends are gathered around the table laughing, sharing stories, and patiently enduring my puns. The cafeteria is what makes Prov what it is. I can spend hours in that place talking and nursing a cup of tea. Some of my dearest friendships have been formulated in that place.

Tea times are another simple joy. It’s amazing how a nice warm drink, dimmed lights, and some quiet music can bring out the best of conversation. I miss those stories with Mike Quiring and Dom Gagne that would teach and make me my sides hurt with laughter. I enjoy the fellowship I have with my friends now every Tuesday night. These people are some of the most precious friends I have.

Simplicity of life in the middle of nowhere. Over the years, we’ve had to make our own fun here at Prov, and I’m sad to say that I think we may be slowly loosing this ability…or at least maybe I am. I remember the joys of the apple hucking club…simply finding the fun in chucking rotten apples from the cafeteria at trees, dumpsters, or straight up into the dark night sky and then running to dodge the mushy missile before it splattered on the ground. Or games like “can’t touch the ground” where we tight rope across the railings from the student center to the well. Stick races in the Rat River when the water is high enough to move them, and of course the Human Bridge. My all time favourite is boys against girls charades, however. Where else are you going to get a girl to act out “urinal cake” or “nothing”?

There are many young couples in Seminary here at Prov with little kids. I love watching these little ones when they are in the school. As everyone moves busily above them with a destination and goal in mind, they stand there low to the ground, wide eyed and full of wonder, drinking it all in, eager to learn what the environment can teach them. I am continually amazed at a child’s ability to find joy in a piece of string, or a rock. There is so much we can learn from a child, so much we have forgotten with age.

What would a simple pleasures list be without music! When I am washing the dishes, it is always nice to have some sweet tunes in the background, or a good sermon. My current favourite: Bob Dylan. The man is a genius. Sure he is a bit of an acquired taste, but so is coffee, and there is a reason that Starbucks rules the world. Same reason that Bob Dylan will always be remembered as one of the greatest American musicians ever. I think Bob found joy in simple pleasures too.

In search of my socket

Like bent up rungs in search of a socket.

A worn out photograph found in a pocket,

that just doesn't bring a smile anymore.

A fly with his wings plucked crawling around.

I want to fly, but I'm stuck on the ground.

Just like the lone ranger,
been made a stranger,
feeling the danger,
and anger!

I'm spinning in circles, but don't know where to go. Mind moving fast and at the same time slow....I don't know. no.

When will this depression reach a recession?

Lost and loss

Lonely and phony.

God, do I have your permission to feel this way?

I have all the friends in the world, but no where to turn. oh I Yearn!

I yearn for Community, true immunity.

I want to be whole, and fill this hole.

God, Its so hard to come to you when I need you the most, so could you come and get me?

I want to talk, but don't know what to say...don't even know how I got this way.

I know people are waiting for this thing to be "happy" and "sappy"...but dang anyway, I'm feeling CRAPPY.

Please pick me up!
I'm watching this reel that feels so real, so cut the film of this horror flick!

feeling sick.

change the perception of this man in deception.

Sometimes grief just can't be brief, but when it feels like hell...You are there still.

When he hung there, you turned away. Let me not forget that you know deep pain.

We'll hurt together, and you'll hurt with us too. Right now, that just about all we can do.
Father bring me deep into you and to them. Can't be alone, when I'm drowning again.

I can't be alone.

please plug me in.

A single thought

I was in two of my best friends weddings this summer, and went to a couple more.

With a nauseous stomach and two smiling faces, some friends informed me they are expecting their second child.

Every time I open facebook, it seems that someones status has changed to "engaged".

In light of all this, I have spent a considerable amount of time lately eating wedding cake, as well as contemplating the life of the single adult.

As I stood on stages in uncomfortable shoes and rented tuxes watching my friends gazing intently into the eyes of the women they will spend the rest of their lives with, I couldn't help but feel as if there was something wrong with me. Am I not good enough? Am I faulty, immature? Am I worth some one's time? Next, I felt a sense of urgency. Boy I got to get on the ball. I am falling behind. I better find my "other half." But now I ask myself this question: Why? Why is it so important to get hitched?

Single has become such a loaded word. "Single" often translates to "romantic opportunity"(i.e. "She's cute and single, go for it!). Instantly a persons identity is found in his or her availability rather then in their character and purpose. I often feel as if my maturity is being sized up by my relationship status as well. Whether intended or not, I can't help but feel as though when people back home ask, "So, are you seeing anyone right now?" it is no different then if they were to ask, "So, have you grown up yet?"

In a culture that has demonized the single life, I began to realize that I have bought into many of the lies...along with the rest of the church. Singleness is often viewed as a trap to escape rather then a gift to appreciate while it lasts, or a calling to embrace for life. I laughed (a sad laugh) to myself when I recently visited a well know christian singles website only to discover that it is sponsored by eHarmony as if to say, "There is still hope!"

It is fairly easy to recognize the gift of married life. One pastor explained that marriage is God's way of helping us understand what it means for God to live in perfect community with Himself (Father, Son and Holy Spirit), as well as to teach us about the love between Christ and his bride, the church. Likewise, one of my pastor friends preached one Sunday from Genesis, pointing out that the only thing that wasn't good before the fall of man, was that man was alone. I find this fascinating. Adam walked in the garden with God, yet he was created with a need for relationship with other people. In essence, marriage is all about community.

So while marriage is all about community, singleness is all about...community. I will say flat out that I hate the term "single". It implies being alone, but no man is an island to himself. Whether married or not, we were created for community. God calls us to himself and into his church. In a sinless world, where man met face to face with God, he still had a need. That need was community with people. Our community is the Church.

Yet it isn't a struggle for most singles to recognize that they need people, the problem is when that truth is skewed: the lie, "When I meet the right person, then I will be fulfilled," or "If only I weren't single, then I would be happy." It's this problem of putting all our hope in one person. I have dated a couple of very wise, very kind, and very godly women, but no person could ever fulfill the deep longings of my heart. I long to wander through the garden with my creator, feeling the grass between my toes, the sun on my face. To breathe in the lilac sweetened air and learn from the One who knows me better then I do. I am not single, I am the bride of Christ, walking through the garden with Him, and the rest of the church walks with us.

Just as being married opens a person's eyes to see and understand God in ways others can't, being single opens opportunities to see and understand God and this world in ways that a married person can't. One of my favorite books is "Who's Child is This?" by Bill Wilson, the story of the the beginnings of Metro Ministries in Brooklyn, New York. Bill started a Sunday school ministry to 22,000 children who would have never heard Jesus name outside a swear word; children who hear gunshots and screaming more often then laughter and singing. Children who know what it means to be hungry, and how it feels to be hit. Bill has loved kids in a neighborhood where he has been stabbed and had his face bashed with a brick. He lives right amongst the people he has chosen to love and serve, rather then in the safety and comfort of the suburbs. He is surrounded by violence as he lives ministry. A tough question can be asked: how would Bill's life and ministry look if Bill was married and had children? I am not saying that at no time would it be appropriate for a family to live in this type of neighborhood and minister there, these are the type of questions couples must decide together, but a single person has more freedom to go where the need is without concern for the safety of family.

Paul puts it this way to the Corinthians,

"I would like you to be free from concern. An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord's affairs—how he can please the Lord. But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this world—how he can please his wife—and his interests are divided. An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord's affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband."--1st Corinthians 7:32-34

To be married is a blessed and rewarded life, a special gift from God. It is time for the church to embrace and recognize singleness as a blessed gift as well. Singleness is not a disease that needs to be cured. Rather, God is using brave single men and women to "cure" broken people with his love.

Clear skies and sunny

It appears I will indeed be spending one more year in Canada! My study permit still has not come, and I have had no luck with any phone calls, but my dad and I swung on over to the Canadian Border crossing today to see if they had any thoughts. I talked with Jerry for a bit (good ol' Jerry, I like that guy) and he gave immigration a call for me. It turns out that as long as I carry my old permit and a copy of my receipt for the new one with me, that should be sufficient until the real deal arrives. Beautiful!

As long as we are on the topic of God's provision, I am now the owner of a car, a 99 Mitsubishi Galant. I have named him tentatively Quick Silver. I know, I know...I haven't had the best of luck with cars, The General's engine ceased on me, and his rear suspension fell out...as I was driving. Ol' Blue would die in the middle of intersections, and Death Cab For Cutie had no breaks. Then there was mom and dad's car that I crashed into an abandoned van parked facing me in my lane on an icy country road with its lights off (WTCrap!). But I remain hopeful with Quick Silver. Once I drove him home, ...he died, but he now has a brand new battery and is puring Gallantly (ha!, get it Galant-Gallantly...).

Quick is in good condition which according to Carfax.com means he is worth about $2,990. The people I bought Quick from were selling him for $2,500, and were prepared to come down to $2,250 (already a steal). Not knowing how much Quick was worth, and knowing I couldn't afford more then $2,000 I made the offer, and they accepted. It wasn't until I was home that I realized how blessed I was to get such an amazing deal. Those car keys were prayed into my hands. God provides.

Slight Chance of Rain

I am afraid I have some unfortunate news to share with you all. You see, I died yesterday in a tragic vacuum cleaner accident. I know, really sucks....

No, just kidding (August Fools!) I am alive and well, but I do have some potentially bad news. There is a slight chance I may not be able to go to Providence College this year. I know, bummer, eh--but far better then being dead, I gotta say.

Let me fill you in on my current state of being, and how I came to this realization:

I had returned from an amazing summer in Arkansas, stretched and challenged, and full of God's grace, a few fun stories, and a heart ready to look at life with new eyes. I also came home with a question...

"Mom, Dad, did my study permit come in the mail yet?"

At the end of last school year, I had to renew my Canadian study permit, being that I am returning as the not so common fifth year senior (permits are only good for four years, I guess). The permit has not yet come in the mail...it should have come 2 months ago. I don't think I will be allowed to start school without a valid study permit.

I have made a couple calls, and in order to check on the status of my permit, my Client ID number is needed. Here is where it gets really messy. When I look at the study permit I received four years ago as a beardless, trembling kneed freshman, someone forgot to fill in the blank that says "Client ID #" which means I have no clue what that number is.

To be honest with you, I have no idea how serious this is, or if this situation can be remedied easily.

This summer, one of the talks we gave was on Mark 4:35-41. In this passage, Jesus is with his disciples in a boat in the middle of a storm. The water is beating down, the wind is ripping at their skin, their clothes are drenched and plastered to their bodies. Waves crash against them as they cling to anything they can, fearful that they will be swamped. And then there is Jesus. Asleep. Utter chaos; complete peace. The disciples are like, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?!?"

Then Jesus blows them away by calming the storm with his own voice.

But the most intriguing part of the story is how Jesus responds to his disciples. "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"

Unbelievable--the disciples have this near death experience and Jesus is asking them where their faith is at, why they are afraid. Deadly storm...I'm thinking I would be a bit uneasy as well.

But the question makes more sense when we put it in this context.

God was in the boat.

Jesus created the rain, those waves, that wind. He created the storm. He was with the disciples in the utter chaos, and he was at total peace. God was in the boat, and he is greater then the storm.

This week has been stressful and exhausting, with all the uncertainties that come wrapped in a silly piece of paper and a few numbers that seem to hold my future in their grasp. I have worried as I think of the possibility of not being able to walk the graduation aisle with some of my dearest friends this year, and not having the opportunity to room with one of my best friends. But the truth is that God holds my future in his hands, not a study permit and ID number. I have been telling young people that God is with them in their storms all summer long, and now He has given me this opportunity to remember that He is with me in this boat. God's hands are present in this storm, and it is His voice that will see me out of it. I may not know what the other side looks like yet, but it is far greater then I could ever imagine.

So, this may be nothing. It's possible it could all be settled by tomorrow. Yet there is the ever so slight chance that this could keep me from college. Whatever the case, I am choosing to trust the one who is at peace in all storms, and would appreciate your prayers.

Blessings

"May God Bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, sot that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

And the Blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be upon you and remain with you forever.

Amen."

--a Franciscan blessing

Lord, fill my heart with desire for you

"I have had at times such delicious thoughts on the Lord, I am ashamed to mention them."-- Brother Lawrence

Seeing God

God has been stretching me in ways I did not expect this summer. I knew I would be taken out of my comfort zone, but I did not know that God would begin to stir questions deep in my heart; radical questions...soul questions.

One thing that God is revealing to me this summer is how deceitfully wicked my heart is. I know that is a sentence most people wouldn't have seen coming...

"What did God teach you this summer as a staff for YouthWorks?"

--"That I am deceitfully wicked."

"...oh."

That just doesn't seem to be the number one response to that question. But this is the message that God is placing in my heart.

Every four evenings a week, I share God's word through talks with youth. This is my job whether my heart and mind are in the right place or not.

When I was working as a part time youth pastor, I never fully grasped what God was trying to teach me in that time, but I think I am beginning to see some of that now. I think one reason I could never stand to be called "Pastor Tyler" when I worked at the church in Warroad was because somewhere deep down I couldn't stand to recognize that a deceitfully wicked man was given the responsibility of speaking truth into the lives of young people. I felt I had no right.

Matthew 5:8 stings when I read it, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." It hurts because where does that leave those with dirty hearts; people like me? It leaves us blinded to God. Our eyes, hearts, minds become so focused on the dirt and the clutter that it is all we see--its all we want to see. How can I help others see God if I am blinded to him?

There are some very obviously impure things that blind us to God, but then there are those things that are pure until we let them have a thrown in our life before God. Matt Chandler reminds us that Paul in Philippians 3:8 counts all things rubbish that don't give us more of Christ. God has been calling me to examine what is on the thrown of my heart. If my heart isn't pure, and if I am not seeking Him, then I am not seeing God. And the scary thing is that I and a lot of people think we are seeing God when we really aren't. Our hearts are to wicked to see Him, and we can be deceived into thinking we know Him when we really don't. I referenced Matthew 7:21-23 in an earlier post, and I reference it again because this is what God is stirring in my heart, "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven." It scares me to know that it is possible to think I know Christ, to think I have experienced Him, but to not truly know Him or see Him because my heart is impure, and disobedient. It scares me to think that I invite the creation onto the thrown of my life before the Creator. Have I ever truly put the Creator first, or have I just pretended to. Have you? I pray that I truly know Him; that I haven't made up a fake god that satisfies me, but isn't real. I pray that you know him too.

I know that I can't see or know God fully this side of Heaven, His face is now but a poor reflection until that day I see Him face to face when I am fully reconciled to my king. But I now believe that its not possible to "just get by" with Christ. We either love and serve him as our Lord and Savior, or we don't.

We cannot save our souls, we can only give them to the God who can. A soul cannot be divided, we either give ourselves to Him or we don't.

My heart is deceitfully wicked, keeping me from seeing and knowing God the way I could. I want to humble my heart, surrender my sin, turn from all wickedness, and seek his face. I want to be pure. I want to see God.

"Then if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and restore their land."--2 Chronicles 7:14

Carrot Top and Chris Martin do not look alike

Here are a few of the people I have been told I look like this summer:


Pre-Haircut:
"You look like Jesus"--(though Jesus is not Scandinavian and we really have no clue what he looks like)
"You look like Moses from the Prince of Egypt."--(Once again Moses wasn't Scandinavian...and I'm not a cartoon...but I'll take that comparison.")
"You look like Carrot top."--(hey now, don't be saying things like that)
"You look like Shawn White" --(I am a very pathetic snowboarder...and landed on my back trying to ollie a skate board once)


Post-Haircut:
"You look like the guy from "Twenty Eight Days Later"."--(Just because we are both skinny and have bad hair cuts does not mean we look alike)
"You look like Ryan Seacrest"-- (Seriously? Really?)
"You look like Chris Martin from Coldplay"--(I'm OK with this. He is brilliant...and married to Gwyneth Paltrow)

Arkansas Favorites

Favorite Arkansas words:

Y'all-- as in; "Y'all can go to Sonic for a smoothie during free time if you bring an adult leader and at least one other participant with you."

Fixin-- as in; "I'm eight, fixin on nine" (this example is taken from a girl at VBS today) or "I'm fixin on eatin me some craw fish."

Warsh-- as in "Go throw your clothes in the warsh." or "Go get warshed up for supper."

MY favorite YouthWorks pastimes:

Licking gummy bears, sticking them to the ceiling fan, and then turning it on and seeing how far they fly. (Don't worry, I clean up after myself).

Playing "Hey Cow!" on our way to and back from Mt. Magazine and Fort Smith (For those who don't know this game, when passing a field of cows, you roll down your window and yell, "HEY COWWWWWW!!!!!" as loud as you can repeatedly in an effort to see how many cows you can get to look at you).

Throwing lake weeds on Kevin's back at Cove lake and seeing how many I can get on him throughout the evening without him noticing.

Smoothies at Sonic. Sonic is a beautiful thing.

Favorite YouthWorks moments:

Adult leaders who ask to pray for me.

Washing others feet and praying over them.

When youth come up to me and ask, "can I talk to you for a minute?" and share their pains struggles, hopes and dreams, and then having the opportunity to pray with them.

peaking into my "Happy Fun Note bag", and reading the encouraging notes.

Putting notes into others "Happy Fun Note" bags.

Asking Youth about their goals and dreams.

Playing Ultimate frisbee in the pouring rain. Wonderful.

Leading talks every evening. I love it! This could never grow old for me.

When a group buys me a Sonic smoothie. delicious.

Listening to the sniffles of the snotty noses and the sobs of teens who are broken before God as their feet are washed by their adult leaders and they begin to understand what it meant for their Creator to wash the feet of sinful men. I have never witnessed anything so beautiful.