Something to Brag About

I know our faith and God's presence can be something we struggle to grasp in our daily lives.  It can be difficult to put into terms that we and others can relate to.

Given this, I sometimes wish my faith, or God's being, or the person of Jesus was more like a muscle car or high end off-road utility vehicle.  I could park it in the parking lot of my choosing and invite people to gather around.  I could open the Spirit's hood and let people marvel at the engine, turbo, cam, and special intakes.  We could peek into and inspect the finer points of Jesus that rank him far superior to other "saviors" and be mystified by the ingenuity of such a machine.  I could take people out on test drives with God, show them his power, his ability to climb, turn, out race, out pace, and out perform all others, regardless the conditions or odds.  We'd all have a rip-roaring time and everyone would enviously wish they had God to park in their garages as well.  Then they'd weep for joy as I told them the price--just believe it is yours, agree it'll be your only vehicle, and allow it to be the highest power and priority in your life.

I could sell 1,000 in a day.  Or more.

Elijah had this chance (as recorded in 1 Kings 18:22-39).  A bunch of Baal worshipers (the competing God of the times) and Elijah went toe-to-toe in the town square to see which God was the true God.  All either group had to do was call on their God and ask him to start their wood pile on fire.  The Baal worshipers struggled.  Elijah teased them that perhaps their god was sleeping or on vacation at the moment.  No matter what they did, Baal would not light their fire.  Elijah on the other hand poured water on his wood pile--quite a bit of it.  Then, in front of everyone, against all odds, he put the petal to the metal, opened the throttle, and let 'er rip (actually, he said a mighty, confident prayer), and whoom!  The wood burst into flames!

Elijah sat in the cockpit of his muscle-car faith, with his muscle-car God, cruising at the speed of sound, looking back through the billowing cloud of tire smoke at his competitor.  Take that, Baal drivers.  You just got smoked. 

Although we may often feel our faith is like a Datsun--only running on 2 or 3 or 4 cylinders, stalling at every green light, sputtering up hills, squealing around turns, unwilling to start in the cold, unable to run in the heat, too easy to steal, too hard to find in a parking lot, unlikely to carry more than a fanny pack sized load, and less likely than any other vehicle to catch the eyes of on-lookers, we know our God IS truly that pure monster muscle car.  It's just difficult to see sometimes.

Elijah wasn't always able to pull off fire stunts as he did.  Nor will we always be able.  But far too often, we see the muscle-car God truly is only as the little "Datsun that really couldn't."  And we hide it in the garage, just shrugin
g our shoulders as we trust our little "putter" to get us where we need to go--one way or another.

Perhaps it's time to change our perspectives, see who God truly is, and take 'er out on the streets for a whirl.  It beats what many of us are doing now!

More to come!

Jason <><

Wisdom for Losers

I confess this morning I'm a loser.  I don't mean I'm a loser in today's terms (unless you ask Sarah, who is playfully and lovingly giving me a hard time for my latest attempt at fashion trending).  The type of loser I'm referring to is the type who acknowledges that loss is certainly a part of living.

This Monday morning, I woke up to enjoy the final fleeting moments with my parents before they left on their way.  As they left and Sarah left shortly after, I felt a certain, undeniable heaviness flooding over me.  I've already confessed Mondays can be a little intimidating for me, so no surprise really.  But feeling the moment of being with my favorite people and being within the moments when we can take the time to enjoy each other slowly slip away added to that weight today.

In my reflection on this heaviness, I took inventory of the entire last week and weekend, and began to see how God is speaking today to us today:

It's been a difficult week as many of the Horizons community mourn the loss of a young man overcome by his own weight of living.  It's been an exciting week as I prepared for and performed a wedding for a young, wonderful couple at Horizons.  It was a joyous weekend as Sarah's family poured into our home Saturday to prepare for Sarah's sister's graduation from Doane College on Sunday.  It was a fun weekend not only to have 6 people staying with us in our still-new house, but also to have my parents come a join in the celebrations.  It was sad to see everyone leave as the celebrations ended.

What I believe God is saying in the midst of this weight is what He breathed into the wisdom writer who penned the haunting, clarifying book of Ecclesiastes:  there is a time for everything--for living, dying, planting, harvesting, building, breaking, weeping, laughing, searching, rejecting, loving, hating, losing, gaining, winning, falling, aching, and thriving (my own paraphrasing).   

The wisdom in this for a loser today is not that we have to take the bad with the good and just accept that we have to deal with both, but instead that we must desire, cultivate, and welcome both the good AND the bad in our lives if we wish to be whole, truly filled, and entirely connected to our God. The words in Ecclesiastes can be tough to read when we're simply seeking for an "all good, all the time" kind of life.  But if we're looking for the real life that Jesus Christ died to offer us, we have to go beyond that.

And so today I'm holding myself accountable to going through these steps:

1. Acknowledging both my pain and losses, my joys and my gratitude
2. Acknowledging the weight of my heart, the sadness, and the fear, and let it be okay.
3. Looking at my greater life and consider how embracing this weight will shape my person hood and my faith.
4. Being proud and thankful to feel the weight and sadness of things in my life because it means the following:
• I care enough to hurt
• I am open enough to lose
• I am dependent on others enough to feel weak in their absence
• I am frail enough to let God into ALL of who I am in this world for His glory

Today may be heavy, but the weight of God's levity will always have a bigger impact than any other presence when we allow it.

More to come!

Jason <><

In 120 Characters or Less!

The Patio at Horizons is coming along so quickly, and I can hardly believe my eyes how it continues to grow as passions grow along with it--it's bigger, more functional, and has more extras being added daily!  I'm also blown away by how this project has stirred Horizons' hearts in other ways as well!  Eagle Scout Calvin Taylor built a similar patio area leading out of the atrium, and two other men are leading a team that collectively has a vision for a mission community garden currently in construction, just to name a few examples!

Horizons will not look the same in drastic way as it did even 2 months ago!  All of these outward signs are what we see of God's inward work.  People are coming alive, fulfilling their calls, moving in the world to make hopes reality.  It's beautiful!

But today I'm finding a particular challenge.  Sarah and I received the letter that many from Horizons did asking us to fill out, in 60 or 120 characters, what we want our brick, being included in the Patio construction, to say.

What does one say in 120 characters?  We want it to be meaningful, not self-honoring, scriptural, future-focused, visionary but not vague, and inspirational yet humble.

We're almost tempted not to say anything at all.  But a blank brick may be just as fruitless.

And so the question remains:  when God gives you only 120 words--including spaces--to share something that leads others to Him while explaining your own heart, what does one say?  We'll see...

More to come!


Jason <><

When I Retire

Sarah and I were getting a good laugh this weekend as we observed an unchecked desire in me to be the friendliest person on the block.

Not only did I try to invite several out of town friends running the marathon to stay at our house the entire weekend, but several times Sarah also had to pull tight on my "leash" to keep me from running out to talk to yet another neighbor already in a conversation with company on their lawns.  "Jason, you can't just assume that they're wanting you to come over and interrupt and join their conversation."

Whether Sarah's right or not (apparently the verdict is still out), I'm pleased with this desire for community and putting people first that is surfacing in my life.  It hasn't always been as strong of a force for me.

For quite a bit of my college years I went through a fairly intense phase of believing only in the self-made, rugged, rock, island, independent, individual.  Community, support systems, and shared efforts were signs of weakness in my exploring mind.  There were days when I would profess that all good work was done only by the solitary efforts of one person's hands.

I thought not needing or relying on anyone else was a strong, confident, and capable way of living--and I thought God would surely bless this approach.

But life changes.  Yesterday morning in my HOME Group, Jerry asked me out of the blue what I'd do if today I discovered as I woke that I had entered into early retirement and wouldn't work another day.  My first internal response was that I'd just hang out at my new house, talk to the neighbors, and go see people.  Of course I told the rest of my group a little of this, but mixed in some wild plans to walk the Colorado and Appalachian Trials, learn to fly, etc...  just to assure the rest I wasn't too lame :-)

Yet as I look at how God has worked on and changed my heart and life, I am pleased to see my heart's yearning to be with people, to have and be immersed in community, and to find my strength and confidence in the love I can give and receive.  This is the signature of God's work in our lives.  And it is good.


More to come!

Jason <><