Firm Foundations

I took a pen in my hand and began to scribble down my thoughts in an old journal. It used to be that I would write several times a week, letting the top news of my day flood onto a page and become posterity. Since then, then entries have dwindled and I write on a monthly, or bi-montly, basis. I even have a page which bears this lone phrase, ”So much has happened since I’ve last journaled…” I returned to my odd collection of stories last night and added another reflection which I am going to share with you…

In God’s grace, Ash and I have been preserved. This was not clear until I spent some time reflecting on the past few months here and began to realize that if we were given to our way, we would be in over our heads. If you recall, I spent a lot of time blogging, tweeting, and reading about 24-7 prayer and revival. I began to catch the fire and wanted to spread it. Mixed with the idea of an organic church, the vision was becoming addictive. I prayed fiery prayers for weeks, even months, soaking in the books with Jonathan Edwards, Pete Greig, and Mike Bickle. I had conversations and began to spread the fire to family and friends. We were ready to begin hosting prayer groups in our apartment and teaching on God’s heart for prayer and church…until it became too much.

You see, Christians can have a God-honoring vision but be completely and utterly unprepared for the task. It’s a timing thing. Our job and mission right now (and in the months leading up to this) is to build a firm foundation- specifically focused on our family. Unfortunately, we live in a culture pushing people towards a skyscraper mentality- the church has not escaped this. The skyscraper mentality means that we tend to focus on visible success while we compromise the internal structure of our individual and family life.

If God answered ”yes” to our every prayer, we would be in trouble. If Ash and I had pushed ahead in our passions, we would have been building on a fragile foundation. We probably could have presented a “successful” ministry for a while until the integrity of the structure gave way under the winds and pressures of life. This probably explains why I get frustrated when I look down and notice that I am still on square one. As arduous as this process of refinement may be, I have realized that it is an act of grace. God knows that if we are to have a strong family we have to have a firm foundation- it has been less than six months for heaven’s sake! We need to frontload that work now instead of backtracking in a few years when our relationship shows signs of strain. Slow and steady, remember?

The next time that you feel you are stuck on step one, remember that you are probably being preserved. Instead of thinking that the first step is incidental, remember that it is the foundation upon which many other things will rest. Whether you are reading this as a single or a married person, young or old, this principle of life is the same. Respect it. Honor it. Be thankful that God does not want you to run ahead and fall down. This step will require more time and refinement than many others, so do not be discouraged when you spend years on it. It can be boring. It can be painful. At times, it can even feel like punishment. If you ever want to be a mature believer (or just a mature person) you might as well know that there are no shortcuts. Slow and steady. Build that foundation and make it strong. Spend as much time on it as you need, you will never regret building on a firm foundation.

Look ‘em in the Eye

I used to be really insecure. Actually, if I’m completely honest with you, I still have to push past my insecurities on a weekly basis, sometimes even day-to-day. The difference is that I can work past them understanding the why behind their existence and that I was not meant to be burdened by silly self-pitying holes in my heart.

This seismic shift took place about two to three years ago. It was catalyzed by a realization that I was living in fear and was functioning with a mind and heart of timidity (remember my old blog, God’s Coward? That’s where the name came from…). The sudden awareness was just the initial flake, the rest of the snowball we can blame on my friend, mentor, and church planter, Kit. This is more about my journey but Kit played an essential role in it, hence his cameo.

The day after Ashley and I visited Northampton for the first time, we emailed Kit and his wife because we had heard about their recent move to the Pioneer Valley in an effort to begin a small church. Within a few weeks, we were grabbing coffee in downtown. There was an immediate connection between the four of us, but I was especially drawn towards the guy with the round-rimmed glasses and goatee. He would later point out that during our first meetings I would be “looking around the room and avoiding eye contact for any period of time”. This statement ended up being extremely significant…

Like I said, when we first met Kit, I was stepping into a new era of my life where I was beginning to examine myself objectively, as an outside observer. Who was I? Why did I act the way I did? I was on the brink of finding those out.

I do not remember why Kit and I met for the first time in his office. Perhaps there had been a conversation where I asked him to analyze my attic of baggage or it could have been a random aside like, “Hey, let’s get together some time to dig a little deeper”. Either way, I ended up sitting in that chair in his office telling my life story. I think for the first meeting or two we just talked. I let out stories, the tame and absurd, and whatever else came out of those dusty boxes.

Then I started getting feedback (this is when that whole “avoiding eye contact” thing came into the scene). Most of you know I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and fortunately for all of us, my heart has been beating steadily the past few years. Prior to that however, my heart was a bloody mess (there’s that darned British accent I toy with that Ash hates). I would lash out in frustration and fear. I would withdraw from people to be alone in my insecurity. I would wither until I had been in the dark enough and then I would emerge only to find myself spiraling downward again within a few weeks. I reached the point where I wanted to know what in the world was going on with me.

There’s a verse in the bible that says, “A man is a slave to whatever masters him”. This became the chapter title for that period of my life; I was a slave to fear and bitterness. I had trust issues from deep betrayals from dear friends and they were eating me from the inside out. As wet met, Kit pulled the layers back, gently I might add, and showed me the scars in their raw form.

I never made eye contact because I was unsure of myself. I lived my from affirmation to affirmation. This simply means that my worth was determined by what other people said about me. Did people like my style? I was good for a week. Did people think I was undependable? I would drown in despair. Did people think I was creative? I would get an energy boost. Did people think I was sub-par? I turned off the lights and went to bed.

I lived my life to make others happy. I had been twisted by foolish choices, getting burned, and pursuing my desires recklessly until I was a muddled mess. I loved God, but I felt unworthy and unclean. I understood grace but was a “toughen up” kind of guy. It was not until I realized that I was totally unable to pick myself up that I was able to melt away. Kit showed me that I was so unsure of myself because I had not yet figured out who I was.

This launched a journey (which we are all on) to figure out who I was and who I was meant to be. I’m still working on this today but there are some key elements I discovered right away.

1. I am who I am. This isn’t meant as a rebellious “this is just how I am” but rather as a “we are all unique and that is what is special about us and what makes us human”. This also is not an endorsement of submitting to sinful patterns but is rather meant to promote a mentality of “I can be a better me because there’s only one person who can be me”.
2. Being broken is okay. Most people have baggage. It’s okay to admit that we are insecure and fearful. As we know, Jesus didn’t come for the healthy but for the sick. I’m a bedraggled ragamuffin and you are too. Being broken means we were meant to be fixed (and whole) and can get back there.
3. I can’t do it alone. Humans are pack animals. We were not meant to live “independently” but “interdependently”, counting on one God and one another to help us through our struggles. We also aren’t meant to celebrate alone!
4. My identity should not be found in what I wear, who likes me, or my social status, but in my role as a Child of God who is unconditionally loved and accepted.
5. It doesn’t take long to get moving. While working for healing and going to counseling can take a long time and be issues of pride for many of us, there are always things we can do right away that move us further from the lies of worthlessness and hopelessness that riddle the atmosphere of our world and closer to the arms of love.

Like I said, this is a journey we are all on. Some of us haven’t started. Some of us have very few issues to overcome. Some of us will need some spiritual CPR to get us moving again, but the good news is that you are not alone. Take my story as an example of that.

The journey continues on today as I learn to be a good husband, friend, and servant. It is daunting, exciting, and most of all, humbling. So here’s to being meant for more than living as a trivialized puppet seeking affirmation from others. And, of course, a special thank you to Kit for teaching me what it means to really be a man, a son of God, and someone who can “look ‘em in the eye”.

Simple Gestures

This is a revision of a previous entry. I had written about a small group of us who had gone out to the streets a few days ago to hand out Christmas bags to the less fortunate. After reading my post however, I realized that it was a bit impersonal and I wanted to recount the experience in a different way…

Kit and Trish had been sending out emails for a few weeks, trying to pull in any last minute gifts before going out to buy materials for stuffing gift bags. They mentioned that they would be sending out nearly forty gift bags with the imagine team which I thought (foolishly) was an over estimation. In my strolls up and down Main Street these past few months, I would usually only come across a half-dozen or so homeless and street musicians.

I arrived to a flurry of activity in imagine’s meeting space overlooking the main intersection of town. There were piles of flashights, socks, gloves, scarves, toothbrushes, soap, gift cards, etc. strewn about the room, waiting to be placed into the rows of gift bags. Again, I thought to myself that forty bags was absurd but it really didn’t matter as we began to fill the bags to the top!

I was anxious to get outside and back into the cold air to hand out the bags as we double-checked to make sure each one had the appropiate ingedients. We assigned teams and then took a moment to pray before bundling up.

I was teamed up with Jen and we were the first out the door, taking a right to head towards the bridge on Main Street. I had come across men and women seeking refuge under the bridge many times but today there were only pedestrains casually passing by. We decideed to climb the stairs that took us to the topside of the bridge. Once there, we found a small group of men huddled around a bench by the train tracks. They were covered in thick coats and hunched their shoulders to keep their faces out of the wind. Jen and I tried to stall by looking down the path in the opposite direction (because there wre four of them, so we second guessed whether or not it would be wise to approach them) but realized quickly what an awkward avoidance that would have been…so we stepped up and greeted them.

As soon as we introduced ourselves and explained what we were doing, everyone was smiling and grinning. We ignored the bottle of cheap vodka on the bench, partially covered by the fringes of one man’s coat and continued on in our conversation. We found out rather quickly though that most of the shelters in the area were full for the night (it’s not even the coldest part of the season yet) and that a shelter nearby had recently closed. I asked more questions until one of the men looked at me and said something to the likes of, “Well,we just have to man up and sleep out here!”.

We chatted for a while longer until Jen and Ihad to move on to hand out the rest of the gifts, leaving the small group of men standing alone with their bags waiting for evening. I felt useless as I walked away, wishing that I had some warm place to offer temporary refuge. I was hoping that the gift bag would provide some warmth, physically and relationally, to help them through another day.

I have posted on homelessness before and received a wide variety of feedback- some responses are in support of offering aid (on any level) and some are against it, arguing that these people have made the conscious choice to live on the streets. Let me say that we offer gifts on an unconditional basis. We don’t give because some people “deserve” it. Those who live on the street are a mixed bag, for sure. Some of them have made disastrous life choices, injuring others and themselves, while others have had the extreme misfortune of personal injury and loss of work. We do not discriminate either way because we do not have to. We understand that if grace and mercy were gifts based on merit, many of us would be counted “unworthy”.

In fact, this is the essential component of Christianity. Undeserved grace. If we were to reflect some form of merit-based grace, we would be reflecting some other God besides the God of the Bible. When we go out to the streets to give Dunkin Donuts cards and warm socks, we do not discriminate. We cannot pretend to know the stories of these men and women. Are we foolish enough to stand in judgment and say that these people are destined to be street-dwellers for the rest of their life? Or, do we have a choice(perhaps even an obligation?) to offer what we can in the hope that they can find the support and strength to someday go to bed on a mattress that they own in an apartment or home where they can pay rent, taking baby steps on the path to healing…

Small gestures make the difference around here. Sometimes, that is the best thing we can offer. It may make no difference, or it may start a conversation, a relationship, an opportunity. We are not a “Go big or go home” people. We are more of a “Let’s see if we can help with our small pool of resources” group.

We went through more than half of our bags (a reality check for the times when I thought forty bags was too many) and there are some leftover to hand to those we did not see that day. If you feel like coming along with us next time, stop by Kit’s blog, imagine’s website, or leave me a comment and we’ll get you in on the fun.

Playing in the Rain

 

I took this while walking over to imagine/Northampton tonight. Since moving to Northampton, I’ve been keeping my eyes open for unique photographs that tell a story. While most of my work is portrait or wedding photography, my heart is in photojournalism.

There are always street musicians on Main Street but most were tucked away tonight, staying out of the rain. This guy was under a store awning, playing a type of xylophone. I usually shy away from pointing my camera at unsuspecting victims but this was a shot worth taking. He kept his head down, his face shaded by his cap, while people passed by covered by their umbrellas. His change plate looked mostly empty as he tapped his instrument. He was surrounded by shoes, each pair probably averaging $30-$60. Ironic.

There’s a man on the left who is walking by the musician. He tried to avoid getting in my shot but I got this one off before he walked around me. If I wasn’t there, he would have followed his straight line right past the man making music.

There are actually three stories here. The first is a man walking by a street musician who is playing in an entranceway to a closed retail store on a cold, rainy, winter evening.

Then, there is the story of the street musician: he could be an intentional wanderer, a guy down on his luck, a man about to make a change, etc. We don’t know his story. You’ve heard the phrase, “A picture is worth a thousand words…”? The end of that phrase could be ”…but there are thousands more to see”. Simply put, I am saying that there is an unread story here. We might have a pre-supposed idea of a street musicians story and his/her worth. Perhaps we need a different angle. We’ll never know his story.

The third story is similar. A man with no identity is walking by. He could have been on his way home or on his way to a meeting. He could be a businessman or a stay at home dad. We will never know who he is but there’s a story there too. He is a real person and has grown up in this world just like you and me, leading him to a moment in time where he will be frozen until long after I am dead and gone.

Chances are, we’re all in a photograph somewhere- maybe it was a New Year’s party at your friend’s house and someone has an image with you eating a fistful of Doritos in the background of their photo. Maybe a tourist was taking a shot of a busy street and you happened to be walking by at that exact moment…

There’s always more to the scene then what you see at first. Keep an eye out for the stories around you, especially the ones below the surface, you’ll be surprised at what you find.