Today I talked to Cameron Strang, RELEVANT CEO, on the phone. As most of you know, RELEVANT and I had a bit of a falling out earlier this school year. I'm proud to say that's all over. I forgive RELEVANT and I think RELEVANT forgives me.
I've blogged about this journey for about a year. Last May the "fields died" and I decided not to pursue a job with RELEVANT. I've done a lot of research and talked to a lot of people since then. I've drawn conclusions - conclusions I'm still not happy with.
I don't think Cameron is the bad guy. I don't think RELEVANT is a horrible magazine. I think, though, that I was putting too much hope in a magazine created by human hands. Run by imperfect people.
I started reading RELEVANT when I was fifteen; I started "taking God seriously" when I was twelve. I was a baby Christian. RELEVANT was my connection with God. The same way it's hard realizing your pastor is imperfect, it's hard realizing your magazine and the people running it are too.
I don't know what to make of the research I did last fall. I don't know if it's true. I trust the people I talked to, but I want to trust Cameron too. He's passionate about what he's created - the same way I'm passionate about my writing (and this blog!).
I know this has taught me to trust God. He has good intentions; he challenges me for a reason. God didn't "kill" RELEVANT just to torture me. He didn't use me to expose the dirt of this company or anything like that. He used RELEVANT to teach me trust. He asked me, like Peter, if I love Him more than all of these, more than RELEVANT. When I finally said yes, when I finally believed what I said and moved on with my life (yay PLC!), God brought the fields back to life.
I forgive you, RELEVANT.
Ezekiel.
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Showing posts with label RELEVANT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RELEVANT. Show all posts
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
... and overcomes conflict to get it.
I go home Wednesday - I'm halfway through college. I'm terrified; I'm sad. I love college - especially the learning - and I don't want it to end. But I'm beat. I'm sick of writing papers. I want to rest my brain.
In between writing this, I'm working on my final exam for Media and Society. We're supposed to comprehensively write about our approach to media literacy, using just about everything we've learned this semester. Dr. Perry suggested we start with a specific medium or issue and go from there.
I decided to start with RELEVANT.
Seven months ago Kevin Erickson emailed me about his RELEVANT thesis. Six months ago I sobbed and screamed at God for killing my dream.
But now I'm writing about RELEVANT and what it has taught me about media literacy and what I think Neil Postman would have to say about it. And it's forcing me to relive last fall. I'm rereading Kevin's thesis - yes, all 99 pages. I'm rereading my emails with former employees. I'm reading that email from Jason Boyett where this game started.
But you know what? It's okay. It's really okay. In fact, I don't want to work for RELEVANT. I think it'd be cool ... and I wish there were more magazines like RELEVANT out there ... but I don't need to work there.
I'm beginning to wonder if it was just getting in the way. Maybe that whole experience was the "inciting incident" that got me from there to ... well ... Iraqi Kurdistan.
--
My mom said yes - I'm going to Iraq this summer.
God is good. How good? Let's see:
December: Lauren finds Preemptive Love Coalition internship
December: Lauren tells sister about PLC internship. Sister freaks out.
December: Lauren tells mom about PLC internship. Mom freaks out.
January: Lauren tries to convince mom that she can handle said internship. Mom says no.
January: Lauren prays a lot.
January: Lauren fasts Wednesday lunches.
January: Lauren applies anyway ...
February: Lauren buys passport
February: Sister finds out and freaks out.
February: Mom finds out and freaks out.
February: Lauren considers giving up dream.
February: Lauren reconsiders giving up dream.
March: Lauren can't sleep because she doesn't know what to do.
March: Lauren gets internship!
March: Sister finds out and freaks out.
March: Lauren still can't sleep because she doesn't know what to do.
March: Lauren tells mom about internship.
March: Mom says no again.
March: Lauren tries to reason with mom to no avail.
March: Mom gives Lauren a chance to "propose" the internship to her and stepdad.
March: Lauren prays a lot.
April: Lauren asks other people to pray.
April: Lauren proposes internship. It doesn't look good.
April: Mom contacts lots of people who know PLC. It looks better.
April: Mom changes her mind!
April: Lauren buys plane tickets. :)
I know I didn't handle that maturely. The praying part was good, so was the fasting, but the going behind my mother's back thing was not. The arguments and stubbornness wasn't good either.
But holy cow. O Jacob, you worm: I am nothing. This, this was all GOD. I can't even make it seem like this was my doing. GOD worked a huge miracle.
--
I leave in less than a month. I'm not scared yet; I don't have time to be scared. There's so much planning I need to do.
To think I was so sure I'd be planning for my RELEVANT internship this time last year.
Instead, I'm planning to spend the summer in freaking Iraq. IRAQ! Man alive. I get to work for a organization whose mission statement I not only believe in, but can be sure that they live up to it.
Praise GOD - he knows what he's doing.
ezekiel
Saturday, April 17, 2010
only by prayer and fasting
"But if God is so good as you represent Him, and if He knows all that we need, and better far than we do ourselves, why should it be necessary to ask Him for anything?" I answer, What if He knows Prayer to be the thing we need first and most?
--
I never share prayer requests. I don't like to. When Dr. Huckins asks for ours in Practicum, I never make eye contact. I think it's because in youth group everyone tried to one-up each other. Your mom's sick? Well, mine just died - beat that! And I don't want you prying into my personal space.
--
This season has been filled with doubt. I don't know what I believe. I know some things, and those things I hang my faith on like a hat. Others, like prayer, I don't know what to make of.
But I'm going to live them out, like Jayber. This blog will testify to that.
--
I want to intern at Preemptive Love Coalition. I've wanted to since December. I thought God was finally going to give me a break - let me have a big story to live out. RELEVANT died. This was it.
Then, Mom said no.
She said no in December, but I applied for the internship anyway.
She said no in February when I bought my passport.
She said no in mid-March when I got the internship.
She said sigh maybe in late March when I begged and pleaded and cried and came up with logical reasons why I should get to work with PLC in Kurdistan.
(I'm realizing how persistent I can be - to my own demise.)
So I prayed. Reluctantly. I didn't have anyone else pray except Molly, Lindsey and my college group at home. I didn't ask Dr. Huckins to pray. I didn't ask Dr. Bence to pray. I think I asked Dr. Perry to pray, but that's it.
I didn't ask people to pray because I didn't believe in prayer.
(And maybe I still don't.)
Then Mom said that she would think about it, that she might consider letting me take the internship. She started asking me questions like how I could pay for it and how long I'd be gone. I was hopeful; I asked more people to pray.
Maybe God did have a hand in this after all.
I asked Molly to pray, of course, and Lindsey. I asked my dear friend Jason to pray and Austin and Matt. I asked the other PLC interns and the president, Jeremy, to pray. People on Twitter told me that they were praying for me and for my mom.
I prayed for the dead saints to pray for me because that seemed like a very Catholic thing to do, even though I'm not Catholic.
And God has moved.
--
I don't think God's only moving because we're praying. I don't think that's what Jesus meant when he said, "Where two or three come together in my name, there I am with them." I think that Jesus shows up when I'm alone too.
I think that praying for others and asking others to pray for you is a humbling experience.
I think it transforms you more than it spurs God to answer in your favor.
--
We must ask that we may receive: but that we should receive what we ask in respect of our lower needs, is not God's end in making us pray, for He could give us everything without that: to bring His child to his knee, God withholds that man may ask.
--
Maybe that's the point. Maybe the ask-not-because-you-have-not is God's way of getting us to talk with him. Not only that, maybe it's his way of making us rely on others, to think outside ourselves. I can't ask people to pray for me out of pride. I can't do it. I have a huge pride issue, but if you're going to pray for me, it's got to be for a legitimate reason.
I need to need you.
And praying to the saints? Maybe I should save this for another blog post, but I think there's something - uhh - transcendental about asking saints to pray for you, to intercede. Not because Christ can't do it. But because you can't do it on your own. You need help. You need the saints. Dead and alive ones.
I say this again: it's humbling. Especially for someone who doesn't like sharing prayer requests, to know that David, a follower on Twitter, is praying for me is humbling. He owes me nothing. He has no ties with me. He doesn't know my age or hair color. He just knows my situation and we share the same God.
--
I fast a meal a week. I don't like talking about that either because I'm afraid that sounds like I'm bragging. To help: this was Lindsey's idea.
Every Wednesday at noon I pray instead of eating. Sometimes I stay in my room; sometimes I go into the NHC chapel or sit outside; sometimes I drive to Tree of Life. Sometimes I can stay focused, sometimes I can't at all.
But I'm not eating during this time. It's just me, my "worship music" playlist, my Bible, my notebook ... (wow, this list is long) ... and God. Just us. Hungry.
Maybe this works. Maybe it's like prayer and it's more about the communion, less about the results. Who knows. I do know that when Matt texted me one Wednesday, right as I entered the chapel to tell me that he was fasting with me, I felt loved and cared for and humbled.
--
Mom's going to tell me Monday if I can go to Kurdistan with PLC. I'm confident that she'll say yes, but I don't know for sure. I also don't know if Dr. T is going to approve it as an internship so I can get loans to pay for it. I don't even know if CitiBank will pay for it.
So pray.
Please.
If for nothing else, for the support system it's bringing me and my family and the other interns.
love,
ezekiel
Sunday, January 17, 2010
A character who wants something ...
Story.
PROLOGUE: Late last year RELEVANT Magazine died to me. On vintage episodes of their podcast, the crew joked that washed up actors belonged on a "You're Dead to Me Wall." Now they're on mine.
Around that time I read Don Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life about Don's journey editing his memoir into a film script. In the process he learned what it means to live life as a story -- a story big enough for the big screen.
As this story of mine was dying - my dream of working for RELEVANT Magazine - I started seeing how very small that story was. My dream was to work for a small entertainment magazine. Huh. Not that there's anything wrong with writing for RELEVANT - I still respect its mission, after all - but it's not something worth living for. But that's what I did ... until it died.
It was a long, slow, painful death, starting in January and ending in October. So when the time came for me to put the coffin in the ground, so to speak, I hadn't really planned for life after RELEVANT. What did I want to do with my life? What kind of story did I want to live?
In late October I prayed for a dream to take RELEVANT's place. If the fields must die, something must spring up in its place. This is about that dream.
A CHARACTER: I always play it safe. I don't take risks if I think I'll fail. I've only been rejected by two boys, and both times were done with subtle hints because "Do You Like Me?" is not in my vocabulary.
A typical conversation:
LAUREN: I hate my job! I never want to go back.
JACQUE: Do you just hate your job because you aren't very good at it, and you're used to being good at everything?
LAUREN: Indeed.
A CHARACTER WHO WANTS SOMETHING: That verse in the Bible that says, "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart" comes with stipulations. For one, God isn't going to give you everything you want. I want Leonardo DiCaprio. I'm not going to get Leonardo DiCaprio.
But God wants us to want.
I mean, he wants us to be content with what we have - that's not the point. He doesn't want us to be greedy or covetous or envious - those are two of the seven deadly sins, after all - but he wants us to desire stuff. Mostly he wants us to desire good stuff.
He wants us to desire things like peace and justice for the people in Darfur. He wants us to desire things like health and comfort for the people in Haiti. He wants us to desire bigger, better stories that change us, that take us on journeys and out of our comfort zones.
And so I prayed. RELEVANT was dead and buried, and finally I was okay. There's something more important than writing about pop culture to a Christian audience.
Perusing Jason Boyett's blog, I came across an organization called Preemptive Love that sells handmade shoes to pay for Iraqi children's heart surgeries (through their for-profit company Buy Shoes. Save Lives.).
I was in Radio Production at the time, not paying attention to Prof. Perry, exploring the PLC site. When I read their mission statement I was so, so close to leaving class, running back to the dorm to tell Lindsey about my discovery. Because, ready for this? Best mission statement ever. (See left side of your screen. Or for Facebook readers, look up. Or down. It's hard to say.)
I don't know what I believe about a lot of things, honestly. I don't know if I really believe in once-saved-always-saved theology or what to do about the environment or how involved in politics Christians should be. ... But I know I hate war. I know that Christians are called to love people and not kill them. I know that instead of DESTROYING we should be CREATING. I fell in love with PLC.
After reading more and more about what they do and who they are, I knew that I wanted to intern with them.
A CHARACTER WHO WANTS SOMETHING AND OVERCOMES CONFLICT: My mom does not want me in Iraq. Well, duh. I don't think anyone close to me wants me in Iraq.
Every good story has conflict - this is mine. My friends and mentors tell me one of two things: 1.) If I'm supposed to go to Iraq, Mom will magically be okay with it. 2.) I should probably not go to Iraq unless I know God wants me there.
I believe God is big enough to make Mom change her mind. I also believe God is big enough to tell me in plain language that I'm supposed to go to Iraq (or not).
And that's been my prayer - for either of those. But honestly, nothing's that clear. I will say that I feel peace about the internship, which is odd. I'm never at peace about dishonoring my mom. (Mainly because I've never dishonored my mom before.) I'm never at peace about doing something big and scary.
--
This is where my story pauses. I'm emailing my application in tonight.
God's will is still vague. A feeling of peace is not something to base a huge decision off of, right? Lindsey suggested I fast, so I am. One meal a week. Maybe a little discipline will help me hear him a new way. Maybe. I hope.
Dear friends, I need your prayers. I don't need your advice, though. Ha, I mean this in a respectful way. I've heard all sides of this; I know my options. It's listening time. It's decision-making time.
with love and squalor,
Lauren
PROLOGUE: Late last year RELEVANT Magazine died to me. On vintage episodes of their podcast, the crew joked that washed up actors belonged on a "You're Dead to Me Wall." Now they're on mine.
Around that time I read Don Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life about Don's journey editing his memoir into a film script. In the process he learned what it means to live life as a story -- a story big enough for the big screen.
As this story of mine was dying - my dream of working for RELEVANT Magazine - I started seeing how very small that story was. My dream was to work for a small entertainment magazine. Huh. Not that there's anything wrong with writing for RELEVANT - I still respect its mission, after all - but it's not something worth living for. But that's what I did ... until it died.
It was a long, slow, painful death, starting in January and ending in October. So when the time came for me to put the coffin in the ground, so to speak, I hadn't really planned for life after RELEVANT. What did I want to do with my life? What kind of story did I want to live?
In late October I prayed for a dream to take RELEVANT's place. If the fields must die, something must spring up in its place. This is about that dream.
A CHARACTER: I always play it safe. I don't take risks if I think I'll fail. I've only been rejected by two boys, and both times were done with subtle hints because "Do You Like Me?" is not in my vocabulary.
A typical conversation:
LAUREN: I hate my job! I never want to go back.
JACQUE: Do you just hate your job because you aren't very good at it, and you're used to being good at everything?
LAUREN: Indeed.
A CHARACTER WHO WANTS SOMETHING: That verse in the Bible that says, "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart" comes with stipulations. For one, God isn't going to give you everything you want. I want Leonardo DiCaprio. I'm not going to get Leonardo DiCaprio.
But God wants us to want.
I mean, he wants us to be content with what we have - that's not the point. He doesn't want us to be greedy or covetous or envious - those are two of the seven deadly sins, after all - but he wants us to desire stuff. Mostly he wants us to desire good stuff.
He wants us to desire things like peace and justice for the people in Darfur. He wants us to desire things like health and comfort for the people in Haiti. He wants us to desire bigger, better stories that change us, that take us on journeys and out of our comfort zones.
And so I prayed. RELEVANT was dead and buried, and finally I was okay. There's something more important than writing about pop culture to a Christian audience.
Perusing Jason Boyett's blog, I came across an organization called Preemptive Love that sells handmade shoes to pay for Iraqi children's heart surgeries (through their for-profit company Buy Shoes. Save Lives.).
I was in Radio Production at the time, not paying attention to Prof. Perry, exploring the PLC site. When I read their mission statement I was so, so close to leaving class, running back to the dorm to tell Lindsey about my discovery. Because, ready for this? Best mission statement ever. (See left side of your screen. Or for Facebook readers, look up. Or down. It's hard to say.)I don't know what I believe about a lot of things, honestly. I don't know if I really believe in once-saved-always-saved theology or what to do about the environment or how involved in politics Christians should be. ... But I know I hate war. I know that Christians are called to love people and not kill them. I know that instead of DESTROYING we should be CREATING. I fell in love with PLC.
After reading more and more about what they do and who they are, I knew that I wanted to intern with them.
--
Don learned that every story has an "inciting incident" that moves the character from just wanting something passively, to fighting to get it. It's where the conflict is introduced. Jack thinks Rose is pretty, but it takes her dangling off the edge of a ship for him to pursue her.
--
A CHARACTER WHO WANTS SOMETHING AND OVERCOMES CONFLICT: My mom does not want me in Iraq. Well, duh. I don't think anyone close to me wants me in Iraq.
Every good story has conflict - this is mine. My friends and mentors tell me one of two things: 1.) If I'm supposed to go to Iraq, Mom will magically be okay with it. 2.) I should probably not go to Iraq unless I know God wants me there.
I believe God is big enough to make Mom change her mind. I also believe God is big enough to tell me in plain language that I'm supposed to go to Iraq (or not).
And that's been my prayer - for either of those. But honestly, nothing's that clear. I will say that I feel peace about the internship, which is odd. I'm never at peace about dishonoring my mom. (Mainly because I've never dishonored my mom before.) I'm never at peace about doing something big and scary.
--
This is where my story pauses. I'm emailing my application in tonight.
God's will is still vague. A feeling of peace is not something to base a huge decision off of, right? Lindsey suggested I fast, so I am. One meal a week. Maybe a little discipline will help me hear him a new way. Maybe. I hope.
Dear friends, I need your prayers. I don't need your advice, though. Ha, I mean this in a respectful way. I've heard all sides of this; I know my options. It's listening time. It's decision-making time.
with love and squalor,
Lauren
Friday, December 25, 2009
on Redemption
I love this city, but I've set and numbered its days
I love this city, enough that I'll set it ablaze
--
I've lost good friends. I've attended the funeral of my RELEVANT dreams. I've mourned the loss of crushes. My ambitions were murdered; my pride suffocated.
I was the one who pulled the plug on most of those. I made the decision to take them off life-support, to say my final goodbyes, and lay them in the earth. It was me. It was my decision.
And I say I've seen a lot die this year, but I've seen more die in previous years. Ever since I read that passage in Ezekiel - Son of man, I'm about to take from you the delight of your life—a real blow, I know. But, please, no tears. - I've routinely killed my dreams.
I am the knife-wielding Abraham on Mt. Moriah, but with no angel to stop me.
I am the farmer on the seventh year, letting my fields dry up.
It feels like I spend so much of my life giving things up. Is there anything I can keep?
--
I pray for redemption.
I sat in the Williams' prayer chapel a month ago, asking God to redeem something in my life. And oh, He redeemed it - by setting it on fire.
That is redemption after all, is it not? It's the refinement of gold in fire. It's transforming what's unholy into something holy.
Therefore all that is not beautiful in the beloved, all that comes between and is not of love's kind, must be destroyed. And our God is a consuming fire.I keep asking for redemption: "Oh Lord, that I may live according to your will." Or, "Make this job/relationship/hobby yours."
And so God does what is asked of Him. He redeems. He puts my love (my ambitions, my crushes, my relationships) into the fire and sees what happens.
Whatever is not in His will - burns up. It falls apart.
I don't mean this is a BEHOLD THE WRATH OF GOD! sense, really. I don't think God sets things on fire for fun. But when I ask him to redeem something, he does it, and it hurts.
I suppose we let God redeem things because we expect something new or polished in return. We "give God our relationships," assuming he'll point us to the love our life. We "give God our finances," assuming big bucks will come our way.
It doesn't always work like that. Sometimes the fire kills. Sometimes our dreams don't play possum, but stay dead on the side of the road.
--
The worship band played "The Old Rugged Cross" in church this morning. I think I sang along sarcastically:
I will cling to the old rugged crossTill my trophies at last I lay down
Is this the Christian life? Sacrifice after sacrifice, death after death?
God promised me a resurrected life. He promised me that every seed will die before it grows. Where is this growth?
We're in the dead of winter. (Read that again for its irony.)
Bradley Hathaway wrote, "Grace grows in winter, I'm told."
Grace grows in winter when everything else dies. Ugh.
I yearn for Grace. I want God to show His face in these crummy circumstances.
I'm sick of making sacrifices.
I'm sick of seeing my friends make sacrifices.
I'm sick of hope with no follow-through.
More questions than answers - I know. This may be the nature of blogging. Or at least the nature of my blogging.
With love and squalor,
Ezek.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Ezekiel
"Lauren, how do you sign all of your blogs?" Jacque asked me between the sobs on my end of the phone line.
"Ezekiel."
--
It's been a rough week. Low grades. Short deadlines. Bad news. And to top it off, I've forgotten my calling. I've forgotten why I do what I do: why I blog, why I write, why I testify publicly about what God is up to.
I've forgotten that I am Ezekiel.
Very few have heard this story. In fact, I think only Ashley, Amanda and Tom have heard it in its entirety. I don't like telling it because it makes me sound conceited and holier-than-thou. But I think if I tell it now, it may make sense of everything I've been talking about the past four years.
--
When I was a sophomore in high school, I read every book John Eldredge has ever written - mostly. I had read Wild at Heart, Captivating, Waking the Dead (4 times that year) and the Sacred Romance (3 times that year). One of those books, and I do not remember which, talked about that verse in Revelation about God giving us a white stone with a new name written on it (Revelation 2:17).
Eldredge wrote that if you prayed and asked God to tell you that new name, He will. And I believed him. (I believed everything Eldredge wrote.) And so I prayed.
During this particular time, I was getting over a crush, one that had lasted the entire summer before. This boy was moving away, so I was a little heartbroken (ah, to say the least). One night I was praying and reading my Bible and I came across this passage:
God's Message came to me: "Son of man, I'm about to take from you the delight of your life—a real blow, I know. But, please, no tears. Keep your grief to yourself. No public mourning. Get dressed as usual and go about your work—none of the usual funeral rituals." (Ezekiel 24:15)No tears. I thought that was the greatest advice I could be given. I felt a kinship with Ezekiel - as bizarre as that sounds - because we were both losing someone important to us.
That was in August.
By February of Sophomore year, around the time Tom let me preach on a Sunday morning (I was proudly the first girl to preach in front of my church, holla!), I began praying even more for this white stone. I remember sitting outside in the cold during Sunday school - Tom's idea, not mine - and feeling a slight nudge that maybe my name was "Ezekiel." Maybe that's what my white stone said.
In July, during the camp-from-hell, I wrote in my journal that I was pretty sure I was Ezekiel because - and please pay attention to this - why would I WANT to be named a prophet?
A
Prophet's
Life
Stinks.
It totally does.
Isaiah had to run around naked. Jeremiah got thrown in jail and had to wear a yoke like an ox. Daniel was kidnapped from his home, plotted against, and thrown into a den of lions. Ezekiel had to lie on his side for a couple months while eating food baked over his own poo.
This isn't a fool-proof method, but typically I know God is the one behind something if it's 1.) awesome, but I 2.) don't want to do it.
Somehow God confirmed all this on our mission trip that summer. I don't quite remember how, but I remember pulling Tom aside to tell him.
Since then there's been more progression and specifics to what this calling means exactly. Just note that I am a journalism major for a reason.
--
So this is why I sign my blogs "Ezekiel." (Or "Ezek." which is ol' Ezekiel's nickname. It's pronounced EE-ZEEK, for those who don't know any better.)
But, this is also why I don't censor my blogs.
I didn't notice this until Jacque and I were talking to other day about how I think I've made RELEVANT magazine mad at me for blogging about them, ahem, too honestly. Because even though I want to intern with them (and I do), I'm not about to throw my convictions away either.
In hindsight, I should have kept my mouth shut about the more recent RELEactivity, but I wrote about the fields dying back when the fields were dead. I wrote about Kevin's thesis and the plowshare and everything in between when I thought God was calling me elsewhere.
As a prophet, as God's mouthpiece, I can't pick in choose what I want to tell the exiles. That's not really in my job description. I write about what God is teaching me: this is why I have labeled more blogs "Christianity" than anything else.
There's certainly some discretion on my part. My blog called "Dear Sex" has been on and off my blog several times only because I'm not sure if it's profound or just ... sad.
I guess all this is to say that I have forgotten what my calling really is. And that's bad. But I'm back. I'm ready to be Lauren "Ezekiel" Deidra Sawyer.
And no one else. ;-)
with Love and Squalor,
Ezek.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Underestimated
Okay, new plan.
It turns out the blogosphere is a lot smaller than I thought. Remember that scene in Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog when Dr. Horrible comes back after an attempt to use his freeze ray on the mayor during a statue dedication? He's twitching because Captain Hammer threw a car at him before he had a chance to carry out his plan.
Dr. Horrible says (paraphrase), "I guess I underestimated how many people look at this blog."
Well.
I removed my previous blog because from an outsider, it sounds rather arrogant. I imagine Ezekiel talking to his friends, saying, "Oh yeah, God told me that I'm supposed to warn you and the rest of the exiles of their sins and whatnot."
They'd probably reply, "Shut up, Ezekiel. It's not like you're perfect."
So I deleted the blog because I now know how far my blogs have reached. I hope I'm not on any RELEVANT blacklist. Though, I wouldn't be surprised.
New plan: If you want to talk to me about my call to RELEVANT, email me. Or call me. Or take me out to coffee or something.
As for the rest of my RELEVANT blogs? I think I'll keep them up. Again, again, again I say: despite all the wrestling, despite all the frustrations, I love RELEVANT. It's been my friend for too long to abandon.
With love and squalor,
Lauren
Monday, September 14, 2009
Letting the Fields Die [revisited]
Talk about beating a dead horse.
Earlier in the summer I wrote a lot about "letting the fields die" on my dreams, a reference to the Old Testament command to let the fields have a Sabbath rest every 7 years. My "fields dying" referred to my dream of working for RELEVANT magazine.
The dream has been dead since June. I don't want to work for RELEVANT anymore - not because I stopped believing in the magazine's cause (because I still do), but because of internal issues of which I was informed through several sources.
But today I received an interesting email. Kevin from Seattle wrote me, saying that he had done research on RELEVANT in college and discovered the roots to all the questions and issues I have with the magazine. He said he found my blog through Google (no doubt he just googled "RELEVANT" and "blog" and my dear RELE-saturated blog came up), and was intrigued by what I had to say about - all this.
He offered to share his research with me.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Here are some questions that have been running through my head all day:
1. Who knew someone in Seattle has read my blog? Blogging, not knowledge, must equal power. This makes me a little wary of what I put in my blogs now. I know that bosses Facebook-stalk future employees, they no doubt blog-stalk too. Will this hurt my chance of getting an internship at RELEVANT?
2. Should I even pursue an internship with RELEVANT? I thought that God was keeping me from a job there, but does he want me to forget about an internship as well? Are my chances already shot? (Hey, I'm not always the most RELE-friendly in these blogs.)
3. Is God just beating a dead horse? This dream is already dead, so why does God keep insisting on bringing the issue up? LORD, it's done; I don't want to work there; I've forgotten about it; stop making me deal with it.
--
Editor's note: I love RELEVANT. I still do. I love its mission, I love its podcast and its staff (meh, former staff). I understand that its not a perfect organization, or that it has called itself a ministry. But it's still an effective medium - that I refuse to deny.
Lauren
Thursday, June 18, 2009
forget the plowshare.
I was watching ONE TREE HILL with my sister this afternoon - which is a mistake therein itself - when I finally began understand what really is going on with me.
I mean, with my fields dying.
Recap: I blogged about this earlier in the month, about how God has on three separate occasions told me to let die my dream of working for RELEVANT. But, two of those three times God has revived it. My dream has lived on. But now this third time I think it's finally dead. I mean, really dead.
Will I intern with them still? Who knows. Will I ever get to shake hands with Cameron Strang? Uh, maybe not.
Turns out RELEVANT is not a magical place to work. Turns out they are a business with a profit motive. (I know Prof. Perry would be saying "I told you so.") I guess I just thought that since RELEVANT was kind of like a ministry they should treat it like a ministry. Fail.
Anyway, like I said, I was watching ONE TREE HILL with Sam and in the episode basketball star Nathan Scott had been in an accident of some sort and is now bound to a wheelchair, unable to play the sport. He's bitter throughout the entire episode, drinking way too early in the morning and whatnot. He's basically a whiner. It's kind of annoying. (I really dislike this show.)
But at one point in the episode, he goes over to a bookshelf full of trophies and plaques that he had won as a basketball star and starts pulling everything off in a wild rage, his wife and son scared in the next room.
Wow, I thought to myself, what a drama queen.
Here's this guy in his early twenties who's been in an accident (though, he will be able to walk again) and his concern is not for the well-being of his family, but for his own pride that was shot to the ground.
I'm sorry Nathan Scott that your boyish dreams died.
But then that got me thinking.
My dreams, like Nathan's, are dead.
The life I dreamed for myself at age 17 isn't the life I'm going to have when I'm 25.
It's just not.
The fields died for Nathan,
just like they died for me.
But, of course, this isn't the lesson I learned from this show. Because, as stated before, I already learned that my dreams needed to die - and they have - whether I like it or not. But I have not thrown anything off a bookshelf lately. And I have little desire to do so.
Nathan went into that wild rage not just because his dreams died but because he found his identity in those dreams. And when those dreams died, he felt empty. And worthless. And visionless. And un-human.
That's kind of how I feel right now. I mean, I like having a dream to fight for. I like knowing what I'm going to do in 5 years.
But I have also learned the dangers of finding my identity in my dreams instead of Christ. Maybe that's why I'm not throwing anything. I'm so upset that this dream has died, but I'm not the one that's dead -
Just my dreams.
God, I pray that I can accept this season of my life. I hate not having something like that to hope for, but I pray I can find peace in you and nothing else. Help me grow. Help me find my identity in you alone. Remind me that nothing else matters.
I mean, with my fields dying.
Recap: I blogged about this earlier in the month, about how God has on three separate occasions told me to let die my dream of working for RELEVANT. But, two of those three times God has revived it. My dream has lived on. But now this third time I think it's finally dead. I mean, really dead.
Will I intern with them still? Who knows. Will I ever get to shake hands with Cameron Strang? Uh, maybe not.
Turns out RELEVANT is not a magical place to work. Turns out they are a business with a profit motive. (I know Prof. Perry would be saying "I told you so.") I guess I just thought that since RELEVANT was kind of like a ministry they should treat it like a ministry. Fail.
Anyway, like I said, I was watching ONE TREE HILL with Sam and in the episode basketball star Nathan Scott had been in an accident of some sort and is now bound to a wheelchair, unable to play the sport. He's bitter throughout the entire episode, drinking way too early in the morning and whatnot. He's basically a whiner. It's kind of annoying. (I really dislike this show.)
But at one point in the episode, he goes over to a bookshelf full of trophies and plaques that he had won as a basketball star and starts pulling everything off in a wild rage, his wife and son scared in the next room.
Wow, I thought to myself, what a drama queen.
Here's this guy in his early twenties who's been in an accident (though, he will be able to walk again) and his concern is not for the well-being of his family, but for his own pride that was shot to the ground.
I'm sorry Nathan Scott that your boyish dreams died.
But then that got me thinking.
My dreams, like Nathan's, are dead.
The life I dreamed for myself at age 17 isn't the life I'm going to have when I'm 25.
It's just not.
The fields died for Nathan,
just like they died for me.
But, of course, this isn't the lesson I learned from this show. Because, as stated before, I already learned that my dreams needed to die - and they have - whether I like it or not. But I have not thrown anything off a bookshelf lately. And I have little desire to do so.
Nathan went into that wild rage not just because his dreams died but because he found his identity in those dreams. And when those dreams died, he felt empty. And worthless. And visionless. And un-human.
That's kind of how I feel right now. I mean, I like having a dream to fight for. I like knowing what I'm going to do in 5 years.
But I have also learned the dangers of finding my identity in my dreams instead of Christ. Maybe that's why I'm not throwing anything. I'm so upset that this dream has died, but I'm not the one that's dead -
Just my dreams.
God, I pray that I can accept this season of my life. I hate not having something like that to hope for, but I pray I can find peace in you and nothing else. Help me grow. Help me find my identity in you alone. Remind me that nothing else matters.
Friday, May 22, 2009
letting the fields die
To heck with brevity.
I know as a journalist I need to learn how to make the most impact with the fewest words, but as a storyteller I refuse to. God has been moving in these past few weeks, and I don't want to cut anything out -- for His sake, if not mine.
The other day, and for at least the third time since I was seventeen, God has told me to let the fields die.
In the Law of Moses, God commands the Israelites to set aside the seventh year as a Sabbath Year in order to let the fields take a break. No pruning or reaping is allowed; land must be left as is. Farmers have been working hard for six years and it's time now for rest -- to "sit down," as Pastor Paul might allude (Heb. 8:1).
And so, like God commanded the Israelites, God wants me to take a Sabbath from personal "field" -- my ambition.
I have wanted to work for RELEVANT Magazine since I was seventeen. My ambition has led me to base a lot of decisions on what I know I need to do to achieve that goal. Sometimes my decisions were insignificant and quirky. (In the summer after eleventh grade, for example, Ashley and I made cakes made to look like each member of the RELEVANT Podcast, including Cara Davis' unborn baby, "Mavis Davis," and tagged the crew on Facebook.) Sometimes they were a little more serious. (I emailed CEO Cameron Strang and told him everything I was doing to prepare myself for the job and followed his advice to the tee.)
The year later I made more drastic decisions like joining the high school newspaper staff, taking a college-level writing course, writing into the RELEVANT Podcast (see episode 4.18.08) and declaring journalism as my major. (After all, Cameron was a journalism major as well.)
This year, of course, I worked even harder. I got a position on my college newspaper staff, took a magazine writing class, emailed Chad from RELEVANT more times than I can count, asked former/current RELEVANT interns questions, applied/received the A&E position for next year's newspaper staff and worked way too hard at keeping my grades up.
But sometimes God tells me to let my fields die.
The first time I remember him doing this was last summer, in August, when Adam Smith moved to New Zealand. I wrote a blog about this, of course, saying how I was devestated that my very favorite member of the RELEVANT Podcast was leaving for good. I'm pretty sure I cried when I found out.
But more than that, for the first time since my dream formed, I began questioning whether or not this was really my calling. Does God really want me to work there? Am I really a good writer? I ended my blog with this:
I let go. I let God take my dreams (my ambitions) just in case they needed revising. God knows that when I love something passionately, I refuse to let go. So every few months he kindly asks me to let the fields die, and I find myself obeying.
Five days after that night, God spoke to me through Haggai. He told me to pick up my plowshare.
I have always equated the Book of Haggai with my life calling; Pastor Tom used the book to teach me that years ago. So when Tom covered the topic again in the "Majoring in the Minors" sermon series last summer, I knew God had something to say. He did. I had always looked at my calling (Ezekiel) and my career (magazine writer) as two separate dreams. God said they're one.
My seven years started over and my fields revived.
January happened, but I will spare you most of the details for time's sake and to protect those involved. I emailed one of my favorite writers, a former writer for RELEVANT, who after one comment I had made told me that perhaps RELEVANT isn't the dreamland workplace I thought it was. I told him that he crushed my dreams, which he did, but in goodwill. God, again, told me to let the fields die.
That was Monday, and by Wednesday God once again revived my calling. It's hard to believe I learned everything I needed to in just two days, but I did. It was Summit Week at school and I learned more spiritual truths in those few days than I had the rest of the semester, sadly.
Wednesday night the topic was on dreams, based off the Book of Daniel:
And the conclusion I came upon:
My seven years started over and my fields revived.
So now here I am. Two days ago I found out that Chad from RELEVANT no longer works there. Of course I'm anxious to know why, but am in no place to inquire why, so I sit here thinking up horror stories. Chad is who I wanted to be. He used to be a fan of the magazine and the podcast, then he became an intern, then he worked there and practically ran the show when Cameron was on sabbatical. And now?
I began asking those questions again: Is this where I'm supposed to be? What does God want me to do? Should I change my major? Do I really love this? Can I work somewhere else?
The fields are still at rest, and I suppose they will be for a while. Now that God has revealed the reason behind my crises of ambition, I think these periods are going to last longer. At least, this one might.
THE LESSON:
Congratulations for making it this far. I'll try to make this brief because I feel like the blog itself shows what I have learned more than anything.
God does not want us to worship anything but Him. Period. If I have learned anything in the past few years it's that. I have a strong tendency to bow down to whatever intrigues me at the moment, and have spent time serving the RELEVANT god instead of Jesus Christ. Taking a break from my dreams has shown me how far I've fallen from what God wants of me and my ambitions. He wants me to use them for Him, not for myself.
Being vulnerable is okay. Letting things die is how they come back stronger. One of my favorite snippets of the Gospels is Jesus' statement that every seed must first die before it may grow. Dreams work the same way. If I'm willing to let God take the reigns, they I know my dreams will be steered in the right direction.
God knows what's best -- I cannot forget that.
My world may seem like it's falling apart, but it's not.
My dreams may seem to be stalling or falling short, but they're not.
They're resting.
Just for a little bit.
ezekiel.
I know as a journalist I need to learn how to make the most impact with the fewest words, but as a storyteller I refuse to. God has been moving in these past few weeks, and I don't want to cut anything out -- for His sake, if not mine.
The other day, and for at least the third time since I was seventeen, God has told me to let the fields die.
In the Law of Moses, God commands the Israelites to set aside the seventh year as a Sabbath Year in order to let the fields take a break. No pruning or reaping is allowed; land must be left as is. Farmers have been working hard for six years and it's time now for rest -- to "sit down," as Pastor Paul might allude (Heb. 8:1).
And so, like God commanded the Israelites, God wants me to take a Sabbath from personal "field" -- my ambition.
I have wanted to work for RELEVANT Magazine since I was seventeen. My ambition has led me to base a lot of decisions on what I know I need to do to achieve that goal. Sometimes my decisions were insignificant and quirky. (In the summer after eleventh grade, for example, Ashley and I made cakes made to look like each member of the RELEVANT Podcast, including Cara Davis' unborn baby, "Mavis Davis," and tagged the crew on Facebook.) Sometimes they were a little more serious. (I emailed CEO Cameron Strang and told him everything I was doing to prepare myself for the job and followed his advice to the tee.)
The year later I made more drastic decisions like joining the high school newspaper staff, taking a college-level writing course, writing into the RELEVANT Podcast (see episode 4.18.08) and declaring journalism as my major. (After all, Cameron was a journalism major as well.)
This year, of course, I worked even harder. I got a position on my college newspaper staff, took a magazine writing class, emailed Chad from RELEVANT more times than I can count, asked former/current RELEVANT interns questions, applied/received the A&E position for next year's newspaper staff and worked way too hard at keeping my grades up.
But sometimes God tells me to let my fields die.
The first time I remember him doing this was last summer, in August, when Adam Smith moved to New Zealand. I wrote a blog about this, of course, saying how I was devestated that my very favorite member of the RELEVANT Podcast was leaving for good. I'm pretty sure I cried when I found out.
But more than that, for the first time since my dream formed, I began questioning whether or not this was really my calling. Does God really want me to work there? Am I really a good writer? I ended my blog with this:
The questions kept coming. I know that I just need to trust God–there’s no doubt about that. I know what it is to close my eyes and jump, and that’s what I’m going to have to do. I don’t like it, but if I am truly going to call Christ my Savior, I’m going to have to just go–go wherever he says to go.
If it's to RELEVANT, then that's where I'm supposed to be.
If not, then I pray he prepares me for somewhere else.
I let go. I let God take my dreams (my ambitions) just in case they needed revising. God knows that when I love something passionately, I refuse to let go. So every few months he kindly asks me to let the fields die, and I find myself obeying.
Five days after that night, God spoke to me through Haggai. He told me to pick up my plowshare.
I have always equated the Book of Haggai with my life calling; Pastor Tom used the book to teach me that years ago. So when Tom covered the topic again in the "Majoring in the Minors" sermon series last summer, I knew God had something to say. He did. I had always looked at my calling (Ezekiel) and my career (magazine writer) as two separate dreams. God said they're one.
My seven years started over and my fields revived.
January happened, but I will spare you most of the details for time's sake and to protect those involved. I emailed one of my favorite writers, a former writer for RELEVANT, who after one comment I had made told me that perhaps RELEVANT isn't the dreamland workplace I thought it was. I told him that he crushed my dreams, which he did, but in goodwill. God, again, told me to let the fields die.
That was Monday, and by Wednesday God once again revived my calling. It's hard to believe I learned everything I needed to in just two days, but I did. It was Summit Week at school and I learned more spiritual truths in those few days than I had the rest of the semester, sadly.
Wednesday night the topic was on dreams, based off the Book of Daniel:
Big Ideal: Dreams come only with difficulty and delay
Bold Action: Chase your dreams anyway
And the conclusion I came upon:
I'm not supposed to change my dream. Granted, I'm not supposed to bow down and worship it either ... but God place it in my heart for a reason. And I need to fight for it!
My seven years started over and my fields revived.
So now here I am. Two days ago I found out that Chad from RELEVANT no longer works there. Of course I'm anxious to know why, but am in no place to inquire why, so I sit here thinking up horror stories. Chad is who I wanted to be. He used to be a fan of the magazine and the podcast, then he became an intern, then he worked there and practically ran the show when Cameron was on sabbatical. And now?
I began asking those questions again: Is this where I'm supposed to be? What does God want me to do? Should I change my major? Do I really love this? Can I work somewhere else?
The fields are still at rest, and I suppose they will be for a while. Now that God has revealed the reason behind my crises of ambition, I think these periods are going to last longer. At least, this one might.
THE LESSON:
Congratulations for making it this far. I'll try to make this brief because I feel like the blog itself shows what I have learned more than anything.
God does not want us to worship anything but Him. Period. If I have learned anything in the past few years it's that. I have a strong tendency to bow down to whatever intrigues me at the moment, and have spent time serving the RELEVANT god instead of Jesus Christ. Taking a break from my dreams has shown me how far I've fallen from what God wants of me and my ambitions. He wants me to use them for Him, not for myself.
Being vulnerable is okay. Letting things die is how they come back stronger. One of my favorite snippets of the Gospels is Jesus' statement that every seed must first die before it may grow. Dreams work the same way. If I'm willing to let God take the reigns, they I know my dreams will be steered in the right direction.
God knows what's best -- I cannot forget that.
My world may seem like it's falling apart, but it's not.
My dreams may seem to be stalling or falling short, but they're not.
They're resting.
Just for a little bit.
ezekiel.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
idolatry.
I wonder if you remember my blog from September when I promised to do everything to the glory of God. I wrote:
I decided that just a month into school, promising to work my hardest to make that possible. And you know what? I succeeded. I worked so hard, didn't let myself get lazy. I was an overachiever, ambitious, a great student.
But I also worshiped my GPA.
Here's a lesson in idolatry.
Idolatry is one of those sins that kind of sneaks up on you. It's unintentional, that's for sure, but it's also incredibly stealthy. I don't set out to commit idolatry, it just seems to happen.
This has been one of my more casual sins for some time. I get really excited about certain things - I'm passionate - but it turns deadly after quite some time. It starts to consume me. My dream to work for RELEVANT, for example, has become an idol for my a lot. I just want to work there so bad ... I get so caught up with that, instead of the big picture, and instead of looking to God who will equip me for that job.
I think of Aaron and the golden calf. We learned in BIL101 that the Israelites weren't trying to worship the calf when Aaron formed it out of gold, rather, they were trying to worship God through the golden calf. Calves were used as a pedestal for a god to sit upon, not as a god itself. The Israelites hoped to have a sort of visual aid for worshiping God, not realizing that he cannot be contained to a tiny golden altar.
How often do we do that? We see the good in our jobs or our dreams, our hardwork or successes, but instead of worshiping God for them, we worship the thing itself. We think we're trying to worship God through the calf, but we end up falling to our knees and worshiping the thing created before us.
I want my college experience–my going-to-class, homework-ing, studying, note-taking–to be my spiritual act of worship.
I decided that just a month into school, promising to work my hardest to make that possible. And you know what? I succeeded. I worked so hard, didn't let myself get lazy. I was an overachiever, ambitious, a great student.
But I also worshiped my GPA.
Here's a lesson in idolatry.
Idolatry is one of those sins that kind of sneaks up on you. It's unintentional, that's for sure, but it's also incredibly stealthy. I don't set out to commit idolatry, it just seems to happen.
This has been one of my more casual sins for some time. I get really excited about certain things - I'm passionate - but it turns deadly after quite some time. It starts to consume me. My dream to work for RELEVANT, for example, has become an idol for my a lot. I just want to work there so bad ... I get so caught up with that, instead of the big picture, and instead of looking to God who will equip me for that job.
I think of Aaron and the golden calf. We learned in BIL101 that the Israelites weren't trying to worship the calf when Aaron formed it out of gold, rather, they were trying to worship God through the golden calf. Calves were used as a pedestal for a god to sit upon, not as a god itself. The Israelites hoped to have a sort of visual aid for worshiping God, not realizing that he cannot be contained to a tiny golden altar.
How often do we do that? We see the good in our jobs or our dreams, our hardwork or successes, but instead of worshiping God for them, we worship the thing itself. We think we're trying to worship God through the calf, but we end up falling to our knees and worshiping the thing created before us.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Do you love me?
When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"
"Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you."
Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."
I love when Don Miller, in his book Searching for God Knows What, talks about this passage. He reads back farther, though, looking at the entire chapter of John 21:
Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Tiberias. It happened this way: Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. "I'm going out to fish," Simon Peter told them, and they said, "We'll go with you." So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus.
He called out to them, "Friends, haven't you any fish?"
"No," they answered.
He said, "Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some." When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.
Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, "It is the Lord," he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards. When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread.
Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish you have just caught."
Simon Peter climbed aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." None of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.
Did you know that the writer mentions the word "fish" 8 times in 14 verses? That sounds like a pretty strange observation to make ... especially since the chapter is about fishing. But maybe it had a purpose. And why did the writer mention the exact number of fish the men caught (153)? John may have just been recording facts but, as all journalists know, you don't just throw in random data without having a purpose.
So this whole fish business led author Don Miller to conclude that maybe in verse 15 (as quoted at the top of the blog) Jesus is referring to the fish: Simon ... do you truly love me more than these [fish]?
And that always gets me thinking.
Lauren, daughter of Natalie, do you love me more than your iPod?
... more than your hot fudge sundae poptarts?
... more than comfort? suburbia? your dreams?
... more than writing?
And I answer the way that Simon Peter does: Yes, Lord, you know that I love you as a brother [philo].
We know that there are different translations for love in the Greek: philo (brotherly), eros (romantic) and agape (unconditional). And when Peter answers that first time, he tells Jesus what I tell him: I love you like muh bro'!
But unconditionally?
The question I've been asking myself most recently is -- and I'm being transparent with you -- would I be okay with being single the rest of my life? When I see all the engaged couples at IWU, it's really, really hard to ask myself that question. Because I know the answer. And I'm ashamed of it.
Would I love God if I had to stop writing? If I never worked for RELEVANT? If he called me to get out of my comfort zone?
In an ideal world, yes, I'd love God agape. I'd die to myself every day; I'd forget about my own dreams and look to Him; I'd be happy being single; I'd always serve the people around me. But that's in an ideal world, and I don't live in an ideal world.
It's really hard to forget about your own wants sometimes.
It's Lenten season. Welcome.
It's a time for sacrifice and remembering what Christ did for us because of our self-love.
Let's take time to wrestle with this, to see what God wants us to give up (like sin) or pick up (like love).
with love, ezekiel.
"Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you."
Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."
I love when Don Miller, in his book Searching for God Knows What, talks about this passage. He reads back farther, though, looking at the entire chapter of John 21:
Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Tiberias. It happened this way: Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. "I'm going out to fish," Simon Peter told them, and they said, "We'll go with you." So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus.
He called out to them, "Friends, haven't you any fish?"
"No," they answered.
He said, "Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some." When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.
Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, "It is the Lord," he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards. When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread.
Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish you have just caught."
Simon Peter climbed aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." None of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.
Did you know that the writer mentions the word "fish" 8 times in 14 verses? That sounds like a pretty strange observation to make ... especially since the chapter is about fishing. But maybe it had a purpose. And why did the writer mention the exact number of fish the men caught (153)? John may have just been recording facts but, as all journalists know, you don't just throw in random data without having a purpose.
So this whole fish business led author Don Miller to conclude that maybe in verse 15 (as quoted at the top of the blog) Jesus is referring to the fish: Simon ... do you truly love me more than these [fish]?
And that always gets me thinking.
Lauren, daughter of Natalie, do you love me more than your iPod?
... more than your hot fudge sundae poptarts?
... more than comfort? suburbia? your dreams?
... more than writing?
And I answer the way that Simon Peter does: Yes, Lord, you know that I love you as a brother [philo].
We know that there are different translations for love in the Greek: philo (brotherly), eros (romantic) and agape (unconditional). And when Peter answers that first time, he tells Jesus what I tell him: I love you like muh bro'!
But unconditionally?
The question I've been asking myself most recently is -- and I'm being transparent with you -- would I be okay with being single the rest of my life? When I see all the engaged couples at IWU, it's really, really hard to ask myself that question. Because I know the answer. And I'm ashamed of it.
Would I love God if I had to stop writing? If I never worked for RELEVANT? If he called me to get out of my comfort zone?
In an ideal world, yes, I'd love God agape. I'd die to myself every day; I'd forget about my own dreams and look to Him; I'd be happy being single; I'd always serve the people around me. But that's in an ideal world, and I don't live in an ideal world.
It's really hard to forget about your own wants sometimes.
It's Lenten season. Welcome.
It's a time for sacrifice and remembering what Christ did for us because of our self-love.
Let's take time to wrestle with this, to see what God wants us to give up (like sin) or pick up (like love).
with love, ezekiel.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
From Canton with Love.
I should mention that I'm not a spontaneous person. I am a planner. My reoccurring nightmare features me late for class or late for work because of unlikely situations that barricade my path.
But I am also an opportunist. This forms a sort of duality within me-one half involves risk taking adventures, while the other stays at home and make lists. So when this whole RELEVANT ordeal came about with less than a week to react, both sides of me got antsy, but for different reasons.
I am an official RELEVANT College Advocate, my goal being to spread the good news of RELEVANT around my campus. (I know that sounds like a self-proclaimed title, but there really is such a thing.) Because of this, I was given the opportunity to pass out magazines at the Art*Music*Justice Tour.
Luckily, most of the little details got sorted out. I chose the location I wanted to work at (Canton, OH), I had the money to go, a place to stay the night and a whole playlist of music to entertain me for 300 miles. (I should mention that I still didn't know exactly what I was doing once I got to the show until 5 minutes before I left my dorm room. I even had to call ol' Chad from RELEVANT to get that sorted.)
I left after chapel on Friday and planned to get to Canton by 5:30, and I planned to arrive at the concert fifteen minutes early and planned to get to Amanda's dorm by midnight. I have heard several times that God laughs at our plans or something to that degree. I don't know how much he laughs exactly, but he does like to screw with them a little bit.
The drive was fine. I have a nice internal map in my head. Sam used to tell me how I always knew exactly where stores were in the mall back home. I just knew that since the mallway was in a big circle, eventually you would come across what you were looking for. I think my sister's compliment went to my head. I am convinced I'm good with directions.
I found the building okay. The AMJ Tour website told me the address of the church, right across from the dirty McDonald's I tried to eat at. It was at a college campus, Malone University, a small private school like my WU.
It was past the time I was supposed to be there (6:30) but only by a minute or so. If I were to grade myself on punctuality, I'd give myself a 4 out of 5. So, I entered the back door of their PAC and wandered the hallways until I found an office.
I went into the office only slightly panicky (what's a few minutes, really?). I told them who I was and what I was there for.
They had no idea what I was talking about.
A concert?
RELE-who?
They logged onto the concert's site, pretty sure that I was in the wrong place. They found the true location of the AMJ concert: First Christian Church.
OOOOOH! They said in unison. Turns out FCC moved out of the building we were in a year ago. Noticing the panic rise a notch, a man in a suit jacket (I think his name was Rick) ushered me out the building, telling me over and over again how FCC was only down the road four miles. He gave me directions, wished me luck, and I got into my car. I re-graded myself in punctuality: 2.5 out of 5.
Rick told me to take a left at the T. I took a right. I turned around. I saw a dead end. I turned around. The numbers got smaller... they were supposed to get larger. I turned around. I panicked. Punctuality: 1 out of 5.
I somehow got to the church. I walked the classic I-only-have-10-minutes-to-get-to-class-on-the-other-side-of-campus walk (which I don't practice enough I noticed due to the shortness of my breath). I went to the ticket people and, once again, spilled my story. I don't think it made any sense.
Once the ticket-ers could understand my babbling, a woman named Claudia took me to find my booth.
Wait, where is it?
Claudia had no idea where this infamous table was, so she took me backstage to find a Mr. Troy Groves who, according to ol' Chad, knew what was going on. Troy was not around, so I was brought to a room with refreshments. Claudia told me to eat, giving me a water bottle and offering lasagna.
Another woman, Kristin, was in the room as well. I told her my story, still with a little adrenaline kick. It was like when King David (prior to his kingship) was acting like a madman at Gath so he wouldn't be recognized. It was a lot like that, except that I wasn't acting. I was a little frantic and a little foolish (I did just drive 5 hours to work at a booth that didn't exist) . . . but suddenly my Gath-moment halted when Derek Webb entered the room.
This was the guy that played on the podcast a few years ago, who was on the Mar.-April 2006 issue of RELEVANT magazine. He's the guy quoted in one of my favorite books, Jesus for President. I had this guy's CD! (Or at least I did until I gave it to Goodwill.)
And boy, he was a lot shorter than I had imagined.
Then walks in Sandra McCracken. Then Sarah Groves.
Suddenly my driving around confused for a half hour was worth it. I was here. I was among very incredible musicians--I felt renewed.
Soon after that, Claudia talked to Troy about the magazines and he said they'd get them out. . . eventually. (How ominous.)
So I bet by this point you must think I am a little crazy. Perhaps a little Gath-crazy (as I now choose to call it). So... what am I doing here?
See, this very dilemma led me to ask myself that age-old question: If RELEVANT asked me to jump off a bridge, would I do it? I am a poor, jobless college student who spent five hours driving through Ohio, got lost in downtown Canton, trailed a just-as-confused FCC member, and sat awkwardly at a concert alone. . . .
Yes, the answer is yes.
Meanwhile, Claudia had me watch the first half of the concert since the table wasn't set up. She gave me her backstage pass and permitted me to eat whatever I wanted. Really, I just wanted to stay in the back room until Brandon Heath came by. Then I would propose marriage to him. Okay, not really.
The concert was amazing. I would go into detail, but you can read a pretty thorough review of it at (SHAMELESS PLUG!) RELEVANTMagazine.com. But it was amazing. I haven't felt so close to God since I've been at IWU. I think that is the problem with a Christian school. It's hard to find the sacredness and mystery of God when you have to go to chapel three times a week. (I'll blog about THAT later.)
Intermission. I found Claudia once again and we went to look for my table. Still not there. We went back stage again, walking through a dark corridor that led to the refreshments table.
Footsteps behind us.
Brandon Heath. Claudia introduced herself as the event coordinator (and a very helpful magazine-hunter if I do say so myself) and told him my problem. Oh, I know where the RELEVANTs are.
Brandon Heath saves the day!
He set them out at his merch table and I did my duties of taking out every single subscription card and stacked them in a neat pile.
Back to the concert.
Once it was over I finally got to work. And I'll say, RELEVANTs go like hotcakes. Subscription cards do not, but that's not my fault. The economy sucks, that's why only a few people took them. So why not just blame Bush. (And my readership just got cut in half.)
Brandon was signing autographs right next to me. Now, I don't have time to go into this, really, but I have to say that Brandon Heath is the nicest musician I have ever met. Usually when people come up to tell them about a song they've written, the musician just says coooool and move on. Not Brandon. I think he's co-writing a song with a thirtysomething guy from FCC. Not to mention the guy who liked Brandon's watch. Brandon took it off his wrist and gave it to him.
I reconsidered that marriage proposal.
We packed up, I said my goodbyes (and got a picture with Brandon). Claudia and a few women from the church insisted that I didn't drive two-and-a-half miles to Ada to stay with Amanda; they had an extra hotel room, paid for and everything.
I sat in that Holiday Inn, writing the beginnings of this blog. My mind was reeling with excitement, but my heart was so low and lonely. Why did the day progress like it had? I got my answer on the way to Ada, while listening to a little Jon Foreman. (And my roommates roll their eyes. . . .)
THE LESSON:
If you made it this far in the blog, I commend you. I'm pushing 1500 words now, about five pages double-spaced if this were a paper. Stay with me. I actually learned something this weekend.
God has been teaching me about loving people, about finding what Shane Claiborne calls their "sacred humanity," looking beyond the Lifeboat, and realizing that we are ALL created in God's image. Black. White. Pretty. Fat. Short. Lazy. Whatever.
God had told me this on the way to my sister's apartment a few months ago while I listened to a new song by a Mr. Brandon Heath: Give Me Your Eyes. God wants me to stop being so selfish and obsessed with comparing myself to others so that I can see people the way He sees them. I finally saw the connection.
I got lost in Canton for a reason.
If I knew where I was going and had arrived on time for the concert, I would not have been so reliant on people. The advisors at Malone University took time out of their schedule to help me, a kid who didn't even attend their school. They didn't have to do that.
And Claudia, God bless her. I followed her around and asked so much of the other members of First Christian Church. I owe them. It reminds me of Jesus' command to give even just a cup of cool water to a little one who's thirsty. They gave me so much more: a whole water bottle full, a hotel room, a tee shirt and most of all mercy.
These people showed me mercy. They didn't know who I was.
But they cared.
I want to be like them.
God reminded me that I don't have to be in Africa serving the poor to love people. I can do it here. I can do it by asking my friends how they are doing, or offering help when a problem arises. I know I'm being vague, but I don't know all that God has in store for me. But I am willing. I want to be a servant. I want to learn to love.
Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me your heart for the once forgotten
Ezekiel
But I am also an opportunist. This forms a sort of duality within me-one half involves risk taking adventures, while the other stays at home and make lists. So when this whole RELEVANT ordeal came about with less than a week to react, both sides of me got antsy, but for different reasons.
I am an official RELEVANT College Advocate, my goal being to spread the good news of RELEVANT around my campus. (I know that sounds like a self-proclaimed title, but there really is such a thing.) Because of this, I was given the opportunity to pass out magazines at the Art*Music*Justice Tour.
Luckily, most of the little details got sorted out. I chose the location I wanted to work at (Canton, OH), I had the money to go, a place to stay the night and a whole playlist of music to entertain me for 300 miles. (I should mention that I still didn't know exactly what I was doing once I got to the show until 5 minutes before I left my dorm room. I even had to call ol' Chad from RELEVANT to get that sorted.)
I left after chapel on Friday and planned to get to Canton by 5:30, and I planned to arrive at the concert fifteen minutes early and planned to get to Amanda's dorm by midnight. I have heard several times that God laughs at our plans or something to that degree. I don't know how much he laughs exactly, but he does like to screw with them a little bit.
The drive was fine. I have a nice internal map in my head. Sam used to tell me how I always knew exactly where stores were in the mall back home. I just knew that since the mallway was in a big circle, eventually you would come across what you were looking for. I think my sister's compliment went to my head. I am convinced I'm good with directions.
I found the building okay. The AMJ Tour website told me the address of the church, right across from the dirty McDonald's I tried to eat at. It was at a college campus, Malone University, a small private school like my WU.
It was past the time I was supposed to be there (6:30) but only by a minute or so. If I were to grade myself on punctuality, I'd give myself a 4 out of 5. So, I entered the back door of their PAC and wandered the hallways until I found an office.
I went into the office only slightly panicky (what's a few minutes, really?). I told them who I was and what I was there for.
They had no idea what I was talking about.
A concert?
RELE-who?
They logged onto the concert's site, pretty sure that I was in the wrong place. They found the true location of the AMJ concert: First Christian Church.
OOOOOH! They said in unison. Turns out FCC moved out of the building we were in a year ago. Noticing the panic rise a notch, a man in a suit jacket (I think his name was Rick) ushered me out the building, telling me over and over again how FCC was only down the road four miles. He gave me directions, wished me luck, and I got into my car. I re-graded myself in punctuality: 2.5 out of 5.
Rick told me to take a left at the T. I took a right. I turned around. I saw a dead end. I turned around. The numbers got smaller... they were supposed to get larger. I turned around. I panicked. Punctuality: 1 out of 5.
I somehow got to the church. I walked the classic I-only-have-10-minutes-to-get-to-class-on-the-other-side-of-campus walk (which I don't practice enough I noticed due to the shortness of my breath). I went to the ticket people and, once again, spilled my story. I don't think it made any sense.
Once the ticket-ers could understand my babbling, a woman named Claudia took me to find my booth.
Wait, where is it?
Claudia had no idea where this infamous table was, so she took me backstage to find a Mr. Troy Groves who, according to ol' Chad, knew what was going on. Troy was not around, so I was brought to a room with refreshments. Claudia told me to eat, giving me a water bottle and offering lasagna.
Another woman, Kristin, was in the room as well. I told her my story, still with a little adrenaline kick. It was like when King David (prior to his kingship) was acting like a madman at Gath so he wouldn't be recognized. It was a lot like that, except that I wasn't acting. I was a little frantic and a little foolish (I did just drive 5 hours to work at a booth that didn't exist) . . . but suddenly my Gath-moment halted when Derek Webb entered the room.
This was the guy that played on the podcast a few years ago, who was on the Mar.-April 2006 issue of RELEVANT magazine. He's the guy quoted in one of my favorite books, Jesus for President. I had this guy's CD! (Or at least I did until I gave it to Goodwill.)
And boy, he was a lot shorter than I had imagined.
Then walks in Sandra McCracken. Then Sarah Groves.
Suddenly my driving around confused for a half hour was worth it. I was here. I was among very incredible musicians--I felt renewed.
Soon after that, Claudia talked to Troy about the magazines and he said they'd get them out. . . eventually. (How ominous.)
So I bet by this point you must think I am a little crazy. Perhaps a little Gath-crazy (as I now choose to call it). So... what am I doing here?
See, this very dilemma led me to ask myself that age-old question: If RELEVANT asked me to jump off a bridge, would I do it? I am a poor, jobless college student who spent five hours driving through Ohio, got lost in downtown Canton, trailed a just-as-confused FCC member, and sat awkwardly at a concert alone. . . .
Yes, the answer is yes.
Meanwhile, Claudia had me watch the first half of the concert since the table wasn't set up. She gave me her backstage pass and permitted me to eat whatever I wanted. Really, I just wanted to stay in the back room until Brandon Heath came by. Then I would propose marriage to him. Okay, not really.
The concert was amazing. I would go into detail, but you can read a pretty thorough review of it at (SHAMELESS PLUG!) RELEVANTMagazine.com. But it was amazing. I haven't felt so close to God since I've been at IWU. I think that is the problem with a Christian school. It's hard to find the sacredness and mystery of God when you have to go to chapel three times a week. (I'll blog about THAT later.)
Intermission. I found Claudia once again and we went to look for my table. Still not there. We went back stage again, walking through a dark corridor that led to the refreshments table.
Footsteps behind us.
Brandon Heath. Claudia introduced herself as the event coordinator (and a very helpful magazine-hunter if I do say so myself) and told him my problem. Oh, I know where the RELEVANTs are.
Brandon Heath saves the day!
He set them out at his merch table and I did my duties of taking out every single subscription card and stacked them in a neat pile.
Back to the concert.
Once it was over I finally got to work. And I'll say, RELEVANTs go like hotcakes. Subscription cards do not, but that's not my fault. The economy sucks, that's why only a few people took them. So why not just blame Bush. (And my readership just got cut in half.)
Brandon was signing autographs right next to me. Now, I don't have time to go into this, really, but I have to say that Brandon Heath is the nicest musician I have ever met. Usually when people come up to tell them about a song they've written, the musician just says coooool and move on. Not Brandon. I think he's co-writing a song with a thirtysomething guy from FCC. Not to mention the guy who liked Brandon's watch. Brandon took it off his wrist and gave it to him.
I reconsidered that marriage proposal.
We packed up, I said my goodbyes (and got a picture with Brandon). Claudia and a few women from the church insisted that I didn't drive two-and-a-half miles to Ada to stay with Amanda; they had an extra hotel room, paid for and everything.
I sat in that Holiday Inn, writing the beginnings of this blog. My mind was reeling with excitement, but my heart was so low and lonely. Why did the day progress like it had? I got my answer on the way to Ada, while listening to a little Jon Foreman. (And my roommates roll their eyes. . . .)
THE LESSON:
If you made it this far in the blog, I commend you. I'm pushing 1500 words now, about five pages double-spaced if this were a paper. Stay with me. I actually learned something this weekend.
God has been teaching me about loving people, about finding what Shane Claiborne calls their "sacred humanity," looking beyond the Lifeboat, and realizing that we are ALL created in God's image. Black. White. Pretty. Fat. Short. Lazy. Whatever.
God had told me this on the way to my sister's apartment a few months ago while I listened to a new song by a Mr. Brandon Heath: Give Me Your Eyes. God wants me to stop being so selfish and obsessed with comparing myself to others so that I can see people the way He sees them. I finally saw the connection.
I got lost in Canton for a reason.
If I knew where I was going and had arrived on time for the concert, I would not have been so reliant on people. The advisors at Malone University took time out of their schedule to help me, a kid who didn't even attend their school. They didn't have to do that.
And Claudia, God bless her. I followed her around and asked so much of the other members of First Christian Church. I owe them. It reminds me of Jesus' command to give even just a cup of cool water to a little one who's thirsty. They gave me so much more: a whole water bottle full, a hotel room, a tee shirt and most of all mercy.
These people showed me mercy. They didn't know who I was.
But they cared.
I want to be like them.
God reminded me that I don't have to be in Africa serving the poor to love people. I can do it here. I can do it by asking my friends how they are doing, or offering help when a problem arises. I know I'm being vague, but I don't know all that God has in store for me. But I am willing. I want to be a servant. I want to learn to love.
Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me your heart for the once forgotten
Ezekiel
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
empathy
It all started yesterday when I listened to the RELEVANT Podcast. I wasn't going to yet (I like saving it for a long drive or while cleaning my house), but my ole buddy Bryce told me that it was epic. So I did.
Well, I started listening, but when I heard that what was epic was also sad, I skipped to 46:05 minutes into it. To hear that Adam Smith is moving away. To New Zealand. (Who else can make the whaleshark voice like him?)
Now, flashback to May 2007 when Ash and I made RELEcakes for the crew... and I took a picture with my "favorite podcaster," Cameron. So why, do you ask, is Adam's departure so difficult for me? Especially since I've said goodbye to Tyler, Cara, and Jesse in years passed?
Empathy.
I don't empathize very well. In fact, I can muster up just enough sympathy for people to keep my distance while still looking pretty compassionate. But when it comes to empathy--the kind that Jesus shows us (Heb. 4:15)--I suck. I mean, I really do. I relate to Dustin Kensrue (ha, here I go) when he said,
“My personality is somewhat inward looking, and, therefore, I am somewhat selfish and self-centered by nature. I am not naturally a very empathetic person. I would have to say that my burden for broken people comes from the influence of Christ in my life, showing me how to love people like He loved them. I have a long way to go.” RELEVANT Magazine (I don't feel like looking up the issue... but Thrice is on the cover.)
So despite my usual tendency to NOT empathize, I was overwhelmed with concern for Adam's well-being. Again, kind of weird because I neither empathize NOR know Adam.
So, that night I couldn't sleep. This could partly have been due to my Grasshopper Shizzle (blended coffee drink, very tasty) I had 2 hours previous or the bouts of spiritual warfare I had been dealing with. But instead of settling on either explanation, I decided to lay there in bed and grapple.
I woke up early. My mind just kept pouring through random thoughts. What could I have possibly been thinking about for hours and hours on end? I have no idea. It was sickening.
So, this time (though in previous days I would have told myself to pray against the spiritual forces keeping me from sleep--as John Eldredge would suggest I do) I just got up and went on with my day. I told myself to "heed not thy feeling" and keep muhself busy. No thinking about random crap that'll stress me out or sadden me--whatever.
By mid-afternoon I was still feeling the same crappy way I felt the previous afternoon when I realized that Adam was heading adios. Uhm, I don't think that's empathy anymore.
I had a sort of "godly sorrow" there for a while, till Satan took advantage of it and kept those soul-heavy feelings remain.
But, like all good and hardy DESPAIR, I started asking God some questions. Questions, I learned today, are good. We just might not get answers--deal with it.
And I realized as I was praying my questions, that they really all flowed from last afternoon. I mean, Adam Smith is directly linked to RELEVANT (hullo, podcaster/managing editor) which is directly linked to my future. Or, so I always thought.
I've been gung-ho about working for RELEVANT for over a year now and I have never seemed to question that I may not be good enough or passionate enough or whatever-enough to work there. Why have I never questioned that?
I think I have always just trusted that Thomas Friedman quote that said that the PASSIONATE people will get the jobs over the geeks. I'm passionate, I know that. But now I wonder if I'm passionate enough.
And, what if that doesn't matter?
And, what if I don't even like working there? I'll have spent years pursuing a dream that fails me.
And, what about college? What if my professors don't prepare me? What if they don't like me?
And, what if I never find true love?
And, (the scariest of all) What if God changes his mind about me? What if he doesn't want me to be Ezekiel or to change the world or to write and write and write or to be passionate or to be whoever I think I am supposed to be....
The questions kept coming. I know that I just need to trust God--there's no doubt about that. I know what it is to close my eyes and jump, and that's what I'm going to have to do. I don't like it, but if I am truly going to call Christ my Savior, I'm going to have to just go--go wherever he says to go.
If it's to RELEVANT, than that's where I'm supposed to be.
If not, then I pray he prepares me for somewhere else.
Ezek.
--
REASON NUMBER SEVEN WHY THRICE IS THE BEST BAND EVER
Welp, my friend Austin always told me how he listened to Coldplay when he was depressed. Understandable. When I'm depressed I listen to the smooth sounds of The Alchemy Index (Vol. 2).
I remember after the overnight at the church for New Years, after one crappy night trying to sleep in a 20 below zero room, and having to wake up at 6 to go home because a snow storm was brewing, I listened to that disk. I listened to those 6 tracks over and over again until I felt good inside.
Then I went home and slept.
Well, I started listening, but when I heard that what was epic was also sad, I skipped to 46:05 minutes into it. To hear that Adam Smith is moving away. To New Zealand. (Who else can make the whaleshark voice like him?)
Now, flashback to May 2007 when Ash and I made RELEcakes for the crew... and I took a picture with my "favorite podcaster," Cameron. So why, do you ask, is Adam's departure so difficult for me? Especially since I've said goodbye to Tyler, Cara, and Jesse in years passed?
Empathy.
I don't empathize very well. In fact, I can muster up just enough sympathy for people to keep my distance while still looking pretty compassionate. But when it comes to empathy--the kind that Jesus shows us (Heb. 4:15)--I suck. I mean, I really do. I relate to Dustin Kensrue (ha, here I go) when he said,
“My personality is somewhat inward looking, and, therefore, I am somewhat selfish and self-centered by nature. I am not naturally a very empathetic person. I would have to say that my burden for broken people comes from the influence of Christ in my life, showing me how to love people like He loved them. I have a long way to go.” RELEVANT Magazine (I don't feel like looking up the issue... but Thrice is on the cover.)
So despite my usual tendency to NOT empathize, I was overwhelmed with concern for Adam's well-being. Again, kind of weird because I neither empathize NOR know Adam.
So, that night I couldn't sleep. This could partly have been due to my Grasshopper Shizzle (blended coffee drink, very tasty) I had 2 hours previous or the bouts of spiritual warfare I had been dealing with. But instead of settling on either explanation, I decided to lay there in bed and grapple.
I woke up early. My mind just kept pouring through random thoughts. What could I have possibly been thinking about for hours and hours on end? I have no idea. It was sickening.
So, this time (though in previous days I would have told myself to pray against the spiritual forces keeping me from sleep--as John Eldredge would suggest I do) I just got up and went on with my day. I told myself to "heed not thy feeling" and keep muhself busy. No thinking about random crap that'll stress me out or sadden me--whatever.
By mid-afternoon I was still feeling the same crappy way I felt the previous afternoon when I realized that Adam was heading adios. Uhm, I don't think that's empathy anymore.
I had a sort of "godly sorrow" there for a while, till Satan took advantage of it and kept those soul-heavy feelings remain.
"Unless the LORD builds the house,
its builders labor in vain. " Ps 127:1a
But, like all good and hardy DESPAIR, I started asking God some questions. Questions, I learned today, are good. We just might not get answers--deal with it.
And I realized as I was praying my questions, that they really all flowed from last afternoon. I mean, Adam Smith is directly linked to RELEVANT (hullo, podcaster/managing editor) which is directly linked to my future. Or, so I always thought.
I've been gung-ho about working for RELEVANT for over a year now and I have never seemed to question that I may not be good enough or passionate enough or whatever-enough to work there. Why have I never questioned that?
I think I have always just trusted that Thomas Friedman quote that said that the PASSIONATE people will get the jobs over the geeks. I'm passionate, I know that. But now I wonder if I'm passionate enough.
And, what if that doesn't matter?
And, what if I don't even like working there? I'll have spent years pursuing a dream that fails me.
And, what about college? What if my professors don't prepare me? What if they don't like me?
And, what if I never find true love?
And, (the scariest of all) What if God changes his mind about me? What if he doesn't want me to be Ezekiel or to change the world or to write and write and write or to be passionate or to be whoever I think I am supposed to be....
The questions kept coming. I know that I just need to trust God--there's no doubt about that. I know what it is to close my eyes and jump, and that's what I'm going to have to do. I don't like it, but if I am truly going to call Christ my Savior, I'm going to have to just go--go wherever he says to go.
If it's to RELEVANT, than that's where I'm supposed to be.
If not, then I pray he prepares me for somewhere else.
Ezek.
--
REASON NUMBER SEVEN WHY THRICE IS THE BEST BAND EVER
Welp, my friend Austin always told me how he listened to Coldplay when he was depressed. Understandable. When I'm depressed I listen to the smooth sounds of The Alchemy Index (Vol. 2).
I remember after the overnight at the church for New Years, after one crappy night trying to sleep in a 20 below zero room, and having to wake up at 6 to go home because a snow storm was brewing, I listened to that disk. I listened to those 6 tracks over and over again until I felt good inside.
Then I went home and slept.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Welcome back to the blogosphere
It's funny how sermons can really hit home. You know, it happens when you're just sitting there as a humble member of the laity, listening to Pastor Whomever preach about something that fits your life perfectly.
That's what it was like this morning when Tom preached about our need to blog.
So, it wasn't exactly like that. He did encourage bloggers to do their thing and adults to join Facebook (curse you, Tom!). Anyway, it was all about our need to "reach our generation for Christ." (As if I haven't heard THAT phrase enough.)
So here's the scoop: That's What I Want to Do. Forever, really.If you haven't asked me the question yet, or haven't heard me speak profusely about it, I want to work for (ye old) RELEVANT Magazine when I grow up. And RELEVANT's purpose is...?
"Relevant Media Group is a multimedia company whose purpose is to impact culture and show that a relationship with God is relevant and essential to a fulfilled life." [taken from their website]
And so there. I have mastered it. Thanks for the sermon, Tom, but that's one thing I don't have to work at.
Dun Dun Dun... or is it?
I mean, honestly. Is it THAT hard to get God's word out nowadays? I was thinking this in Sunday school as well. Ruthanne was talking about how sometimes people just believe whatever their pastors say without testing it against Scripture. For some reason people are just not reading the Bible. (Who knew?)
So, what, is it that hard to read the Bible? (I'm asking myself that as well. Someone's been slacking with her attempt to read the entire Bible in order. Ugh, I have yet to finish Deuteronomy.)
We got about fifteen different translations out there, there's bound to be one you appreciate: NIV, tNIV, The Message, NASB, KJV, NKJV, NCV, NIrV.
And what about iPod Bibles? If you're too just too tired to pull out God's Word, you can listen to it (while playing the microscopic Solitaire) on your iPod.
Or, how about THE EXPERIENCE: the new-fangled audio Bible with famous people doing the voices of characters. I hear Nick Cannon plays an EXCELLENT Adam.
Bookstores have aisles full of "Christian Living" books and whatnot. There's always a book out there on Christianity (lots on the NYT Best Seller List too!).
A lot of times Christian artists "cross-over" to play their music to secular audiences. Relient K, for instance. Or think Emery and Anberlin... their on Christian labels, but their huge on the secular market as well.
How often is Jesus "in the news"? Very often.
So what? Are we doing the job of Isaiah, being messangers of God's word to His people? Isn't that why we have iPod Bibles and church podcasts and Christian radio stations and tee shirts with the icthus fishy on it?
Or are we just trying to make Jesus relevant to our culture by putting his name on a bunch of electronic do-dads? Is the Good News being preached or is it being disguised by what's hip and cool.
People in the ministry (okay, maybe just youth ministry. No offense Tom) always thinking of ways to "ENGAGE OUR CULTURE." We try so hard to come up with the right events to get kids into the church (i.e. "Godstock," our own version of woodstock minus the drugs and sex). If we bribe them with a concert, maybe they'll stick around long enough to hear the YP's message at the end. Maybe.
And so I'll challenge myself a bit: how is RELEVANT any different?
Is there a way around this? Can we spread the word of God like Isaiah without using pop-culture and new technologies?
What about the way we live? Can our separation from culture woo people to God?
More thoughts later.
Lauren Deidra {Isaiah 2:1-5}
"I often wonder if God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that every worshiper absolutely needs." Fahrenheit 451, 81
That's what it was like this morning when Tom preached about our need to blog.
So, it wasn't exactly like that. He did encourage bloggers to do their thing and adults to join Facebook (curse you, Tom!). Anyway, it was all about our need to "reach our generation for Christ." (As if I haven't heard THAT phrase enough.)
So here's the scoop: That's What I Want to Do. Forever, really.If you haven't asked me the question yet, or haven't heard me speak profusely about it, I want to work for (ye old) RELEVANT Magazine when I grow up. And RELEVANT's purpose is...?
"Relevant Media Group is a multimedia company whose purpose is to impact culture and show that a relationship with God is relevant and essential to a fulfilled life." [taken from their website]
And so there. I have mastered it. Thanks for the sermon, Tom, but that's one thing I don't have to work at.
Dun Dun Dun... or is it?
I mean, honestly. Is it THAT hard to get God's word out nowadays? I was thinking this in Sunday school as well. Ruthanne was talking about how sometimes people just believe whatever their pastors say without testing it against Scripture. For some reason people are just not reading the Bible. (Who knew?)
So, what, is it that hard to read the Bible? (I'm asking myself that as well. Someone's been slacking with her attempt to read the entire Bible in order. Ugh, I have yet to finish Deuteronomy.)
We got about fifteen different translations out there, there's bound to be one you appreciate: NIV, tNIV, The Message, NASB, KJV, NKJV, NCV, NIrV.
And what about iPod Bibles? If you're too just too tired to pull out God's Word, you can listen to it (while playing the microscopic Solitaire) on your iPod.
Or, how about THE EXPERIENCE: the new-fangled audio Bible with famous people doing the voices of characters. I hear Nick Cannon plays an EXCELLENT Adam.
Bookstores have aisles full of "Christian Living" books and whatnot. There's always a book out there on Christianity (lots on the NYT Best Seller List too!).
A lot of times Christian artists "cross-over" to play their music to secular audiences. Relient K, for instance. Or think Emery and Anberlin... their on Christian labels, but their huge on the secular market as well.
How often is Jesus "in the news"? Very often.
So what? Are we doing the job of Isaiah, being messangers of God's word to His people? Isn't that why we have iPod Bibles and church podcasts and Christian radio stations and tee shirts with the icthus fishy on it?
Or are we just trying to make Jesus relevant to our culture by putting his name on a bunch of electronic do-dads? Is the Good News being preached or is it being disguised by what's hip and cool.
People in the ministry (okay, maybe just youth ministry. No offense Tom) always thinking of ways to "ENGAGE OUR CULTURE." We try so hard to come up with the right events to get kids into the church (i.e. "Godstock," our own version of woodstock minus the drugs and sex). If we bribe them with a concert, maybe they'll stick around long enough to hear the YP's message at the end. Maybe.
And so I'll challenge myself a bit: how is RELEVANT any different?
Is there a way around this? Can we spread the word of God like Isaiah without using pop-culture and new technologies?
What about the way we live? Can our separation from culture woo people to God?
More thoughts later.
Lauren Deidra {Isaiah 2:1-5}
"I often wonder if God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that every worshiper absolutely needs." Fahrenheit 451, 81
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