The Truth is Nearly Impossible to Rhyme

Here's another song I've been listening to extensively lately. It's 'Ballad in Plain Red' by Derek Webb. Great lyrics. It's an indictment of our 'Mega-church, best-selling, market-driven, billboard-messaging' modern evangelical culture. Sometimes when I hear this song, I nod my head with self-righteous condemnation, and other times I writhe in self-reproach of these sharp words.

I’m robbing Peter, I’m paying Paul
I’m changing my name back to Saul
I got to them and you know I’ll get to you

I’m turning shepherds into sheep
And leaders into celebrities
It’s holy sabotage, just look around you

‘Cause everything’s for sale in the 21st century
And the check is in the mail from the 21st century

Don’t want the song, I want a jingle
I love you Lord but don’t hear a single
and the truth is nearly impossible to rhyme

But I know the songs with all the hooks
And I know some lies that will sell some books
So grab ‘em fast, I’m running outta time

Just keep selling truth in candy bars
On billboards and backs of cars
Truth without context, my favorite of all my crimes

‘Cause everything’s for sale in the 21st century
And the check is in the mail from the 21st century

What works verses what's right
Hey, what's the difference tonight?

Take out the sign, forget the meal
We’ve got a gym and a Farris Wheel
I swear it's just like the country club down the block

‘Cause you can make your life look good
You can do what Jesus would
You’d be surprised what you can do with a hard heart

‘Cause everything’s for sale in the 21st century
And the check is in the mail from the 21st century
I think you’ve got trouble in the 21st century
So welcome to the struggle, it’s the 21st century
I never thought I’d make it to the 21st century
Lord, I love the 21st century

I write these words from the grave
‘Cause it’s the only place that I’m safe
And only the dead are permitted to speak the truth

Cookie Jar

I haven't had much time to think about writing, much less to actually sit down and write. So for now until I make the time to start again, I will point towards others writings that I have enjoyed or been encouraged by.

This is a song titled, "Cookie Jar" by Jack Johnson. It's been around a while, but it's rare for a pop singer these days to have actual insight into anything. Which is why I wanted to post the lyrics.


I would turn on the TV but it's so embarrassing,
To see all the other people, I don't know what they mean,
And it was magic at first when they spoke without sound,
But now this world is gonna hurt, You better turn that thing down,
Turn it around.

"It wasn't me," says the boy with the gun,
"Sure I pulled the trigger but it needed to be done,
'Cause life's been killing me ever since it begun,
You cant blame me 'cause I'm too young."

"You can't blame me. Sure the killer was my son,
But I didn't teach him to pull the trigger of the gun,
It's the killing on this TV screen,
You can't blame me it's those images he's seen."

"Well you can't blame me," says the media man,
"Well I wasn't the one who came up with the plan,
I just point my camera at what the people want to see,
Man it's a two way mirror and you can't blame me."

"You can't blame me", says the singer of the song,
Or the maker of the movie which he based his life on,
"It's only entertainment as anyone can see,
The smoke machines and makeup, man you can't fool me."

It was you, it was me, it was every man,
We've all got the blood on our hands,
We only receive what we demand,
And if we want hell then hell's what we'll have.

And I would turn on the TV,
But it's so embarrassing,
To see all the other people,
I don't even know what they mean,
And it was magic at first,
But let everyone down,
And now this world is gonna hurt,
You better turn it around,
Turn it around.

Honeymoon Photos

Ok, so we've returned from the honeymoon and I have the photos of Chile that we took while we were there. It is quite an amazing country; so dramatic. The people were great, the scenery was incredible and the companionship couldn't have been better. I really can't say enough about this place and our adventure there.

The wedding was great as well. The whole experience from the planning to the wedding weekend to the honeymoon was truly enjoyable. I am definitely experiencing God's blessing right now and I'm trying to be grateful.

These photos are an 80-photo highlight of our trip.

This is the full 481 photos.

Trinity River Rat

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I'm not overly interested in politics. Perhaps I should be, but I become too disgusted by what I see. I see too many conservatives parade their faith and make decisions that contradict it; while liberals shout of supporting the impoverished from the top of their ivory towers. (I know this is somewhat generalized)

It's hard to want to vote when truth is drowned out with sound bites, one-liners and partial truths (which are the most damaging lies).

But here, away from partisan lines, is where I take my first political stance on an issue that is quite literally, close to home. It seems about 90-some percent of Dallas politicians think it's a wonderful idea to place a large toll road in a specific spot which happens to be smack in the middle of what is being touted as being the 'Central Park of Dallas', the Trinity River Park. Simply the idea of a Central Park with a toll road is ridiculous in itself.

But more alarming to me is that when politicians (especially Dallas politicians) align, red flags shoot up in my mind like fireworks. Making it more suspicious, the majority of the Dallas citizens (that I have spoken with), who have any information at all, fall on the opposite side of the issue. And various facts that have been revealed along the way that point towards anything that favors this referendum seems to get buried quicker than they're publicized. I've never been a conspiracy theorist, but if something looks like a duck... well you know the rest.

I think this referendum is important for Dallas. And I'm not telling people how to vote, only begging that they inform themselves. I do know that I will be voting 'Yes' to keep the toll road out of Trinity Park.

Here's some places to further inform yourself:

Trinity Vote
Dallas Observer
Dallas Blog
Dallas Arena

And the League of Women Voters and Pegasus News has a great video of one of the debates.

This video shows hired 'blockers' (reportedly hired by Harlan Crow, real estate tycoon) to prevent Trinity Vote volunteers from collecting signatures to petition for the referendum that would prevent the toll road. This isn't a move against the referendum directly, but against Dallas citizens' ability to vote on a referendum concerning the Trinity River Project. Shouldn't that be unconstitutional?

Technoslavery

Joe Thorn recently blogged on being unplugged and the technological pull into slavery. I've had a lot of thoughts on this recently and since I'm breaking from blogging and he has stated his ideas well, I thought I'd just link to his blog. I'm probably more vehement in my thoughts and feelings on this subject than he is, but his point is the same and I like how he makes it.

Click here for his blog.

Blogging Break

I'm taking a break from blogging while I prepare myself for marriage. I am getting married at the end of this month to the lovely, Jennifer Wilson, and after our honeymoon I'll resume my scribbling again. I'll talk to you in November!

Body Parts

(written on Monday, September 10)

As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you." On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.
1 Corinthians 12:20-26


The word is always truth; pure and perfect and worthy of our pursuit. But at times God makes these truths more evident to us. Perhaps for me it is because he wants me to understand something that I’m reading to lazily to grasp on my accord.

This Monday afternoon, as I rest and watch the rain bounce on the porch and listen to the thunder stampede over my ceiling, has the makings of a near-perfect day except for one exception. Every time I swallow, my esophagus feels like it's ingesting a handful of needles, and this pain is making it difficult for me to enjoy most anything.

Considering these circumstances, as I read this Scripture from 1 Corinthians the truth laid out for my grasping is much more obvious today than most days. I realize just how needed my esophagus is to the rest of my body (of course I have known but never given it substantial thought). My esophagus is rarely bestowed the honor that many of the members of my body receive.

My mouth and brain receive honor when I teach. My arms and hands receive honor when I serve. My eyes and ears receive honor when I get to directly experience God’s glory in a thunderstorm. My legs and feet receive honor when the experience the freedom of an autumn run. But ‘when one member suffers, all members suffer with it’, and today all my body members undoubtedly suffer with my esophagus. Forget teaching or running, I can barely talk or walk.

It’s usually simple to spot the mouths, brains, arms, eyes and feet at church. I know those who teach, who serve well, and worship in their song. But who is the esophagus? Do I know and appreciate the member of the body who is not presentable and doesn’t receive honor every Sunday morning? The member that, despite being cloaked in the pews, would quickly be noticed were the rest of the body to suffer with him/her.

Paul is trying to tell us that we need to make our perspective more Godly when we view the Church and its members. He knows of our sinful hearts that desire to create and exult a celebrity while paying no appreciation to the back-stage worker. God is showing me this truth, through Paul and a throat infection, in a quite perfectly painful way and now He waits to see what I will do with this suddenly clearer revelation.

Front Porches

“No front porches. My uncle says there used to be front porches. And people sat there sometimes at night, talking when they wanted to talk, rocking, and not talking when they didn’t want to talk. Sometimes they just sat there and thought about things, turned things over… they didn’t want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking, that was the wrong kind of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think. So they ran off with the porches.”

This is from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, and if anyone knows me and has been to my house, they know why I like this text. The book was written in 1950 and it paints a futuristic picture of an America that has censored truth and knowledge from itself and traded it for titillation and entertainment, such as in their beloved TV parlors (rooms with wall-to-wall interactive television). They seek amusement and noise over almost everything else.

I wasn’t around in 1950 to see America then, but it’s easy enough to tell that we have moved further in the direction of 451’s America. Although not everything was on point in this book (people still talked on landline phones in the novel!), some things are scarily close to the entertainment and technology we cherish 57 years later.

Perhaps some of these ‘predictions’ were in the making already and he simply saw the seeds. Like our need for quick and flashy information, that is usually of no use outside of Trivial Pursuit; and the need to live vicariously through entertainment video games and fantasy football, and television shows that we speak of the characters as if their acquaintances.

But perhaps the eeriest concoction of Bradbury’s imaginative foresight picks up on America’s felt need to be eternally amused, in the literal sense of the word (a – not, muse – think). In 451, people don’t want to have to stop and think; they want no silence so they have buds (they’re called seashells in the book) they put in their ear that gives them perpetual noise. They have these ear buds in even while they’re driving or sleeping or doing just about anything. If anyone lives in the same country I do, I don’t need to spell out how this invention of Bradbury’s imagination has become a reality.

This book was written to serve as a warning flag to what technology’s affect might be on our society’s desire for entertainment. But reading it today it looks more like a roughly carved out pathway that we’re continuing to walk down. Most alarming to me today is that the Church, who is called to think and look differently, is blindly following our culture down this steep path of entertainment. When will we start asking questions?

The Mind of Christ

The spiritual person judges all things, but is himself to be judged by no one. "For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?" But we have the mind of Christ.
1 Corinthians 2:15-16

The spiritual person is to judge all things. Another translation says 'appraises all things' meaning we assign value or worth to all things. I don’t see us as believers doing this consistently. We rarely appraise things that would require it, probably because we don’t want have to question ourselves and possibly give up something that we’re doing.

We don’t want our activities to be drawn into question as long as they are not overtly acts of sin. But we incorrectly define sin, it is not this act or that act; it is the condition of our hearts that enables our laziness and apathy, among other things.

I have heard some justify (and I have done the same in my heart) that a particular activity is not explicitly forbidden in the Bible and there’s no harm in it, therefore anyone forbidding it to me must be overly puritanical or legalistic. But the Puritans understood better the things of God than our generation, and Paul tells us otherwise in saying that we are to appraise all things.

How are we to appraise these things if God gives us no specific instruction? Paul answers that question with one of the more amazing answers given in God’s word. We have the mind of Christ! Think first of what an amazing and useful gift that is. Now stop and think of the enormous responsibility that this puts on us.

We have no excuse; if we have been called and redeemed by Christ then He has given us the ability see things from his perspective. And we must appraise all things through that perspective and not our own fallible and sinful point-of-view. With God’s grace and the mind of Christ this is possible and expected.

Mel McDaniel the Philosopher

I spent much of my childhood anchored in one-seventh of the occupied seats in the family van as it hopped historical markers around North America. Often the only peace to be found from interstate potty-training and trucker talk on channel 7 was in an unchanging three-cassette rotation of country music. Mel McDaniel was fortunate enough to be a part of that trio with whom we grew up.

I quickly discovered that Mel is fond of Louisiana. He sings songs with titles such as “Louisiana Moon” and “Louisiana Saturday Night” (a personal karaoke favorite). And I once scoffed to a friend that you know that a state must not have much to offer if, in a song title, the state becomes an adjective to things that are held in common by anyone in anyplace, such as the moon or a particular day of the week.

I thought it might be a good idea for Mel to travel to Arizona or to Canada before he cut another record. I was ignorant to an important truth of what was being said (consciously or not) in his songs about Louisiana. Perhaps what Mel is saying is that he recognizes the value in the consistent aspects of his life like the moon that always adds its glow to the night and the reoccurring Saturday evening celebrations.

Oddly related to this, I am currently reading Orthodoxy with some guys from my church. G.K. Chesterton explains this truth that Mel eludes to and that often eludes me:

“All the towering materialism that dominates the modern mind rests ultimately upon one assumption – a false assumption. It is supposed that if a thing goes on repeating itself it is probably dead, a piece of clockwork. People feel that if the universe were personal it would vary; if the sun were alive it would dance… it might be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due not to lifelessness but to a rush of life… people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony... It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon.”

Chesterton got it. Mel gets it. I am trying.

It’s not the variations that make places special or the differences in people that are of true importance. Those things are good, but it’s the things that persist; the things that are faithful in their rhythm. These are the things that our unchanging and faithful God exults in. The people that Jesus was drawn to during His ministry were not extraordinary. For His last dinner, before His death, He chose to eat bread and drink wine. When God is involved the ordinary is the extraordinary.

I know that I wouldn't choose bread to eat as my last meal on this earth. The problem is that we are all A.D.D. in our humanity. We want something to excite us because it’s an easy and quick thrill. But to exult in something for its constancy is difficult, it requires thought, effort and perseverance to grow in deep appreciation; it’s not something that naturally occurs.

A first kiss at the end of a date is a burst of nervous excitement, but a man kissing the same woman every morning for forty years is something truly amazing.

There are many talented musicians in my church and it is much fun to hear them perform, but the incredible part of our musical worship is that we sing, in unity, the same words to the same God; and brothers and sisters throughout the world and history sing those same words (although different languages) to the same unchanging and faithful God.

A new song with a fun beat can give us a quick thrill. But there are songs that we have heard a thousand times and with every listen they only grow deeper in their meaning. For me it was worn out songs making up a three-cassette rotation that maintained sanity on the highway.

There is something of deep value in the same moon that lightens the night sky just as it did last night, and in another Saturday evening with the same friends and the same family, even when this occurs in Louisiana.

This is what I am learning now as I prepare for marriage. I must learn to appreciate the rhythm that God has created in my fiance and soon-to-be wife. And to see that it is God behind her fascinating, not mundane, sameness. I believe recognition of this in my heart will be the difference between a life that strives to be a fluid act of worship and a life filled with merely points of worship.

Spoiled Little Daddy's Girl

I am a spoiled snot-nosed daddy’s girl. Well, not literally, but I'll explain. I knew a girl who once got a sports car along with her driver’s permit. She thought she was entitled to it and she didn’t truly understand the freedom and blessing that came with the car. So she didn’t bother to learn how to operate the vehicle, or abide by the traffic laws or how to maneuver the city streets.

Within months she wrecked the car. It wasn’t totaled, but this justified her father into purchasing a newer and better vehicle. He bought her an SUV in order to make her safer and to place every other St. Paul driver in greater danger. She wrecked the SUV shortly after. This trend continued until she graduated high school and I never heard a word about her again. Even though she never learned how to drive and she abused the gifts she was given, her privilege of the freedom found within an automobile was never questioned.

I thought this girl was ridiculous and that she made a fool of her parents who continued to give to her in spite of her arrogance and ignorance. She knew what a car was and that she had one, but had no idea how to use that gift and what responsibilities it demanded from her.

Here I am, years older, and I am just now realizing how much I have in common with that girl. God has poured out abundant grace on me. He has pulled me from my path of destruction and given me the greatest fathomable gift: life with Him. I know that I have His compassion and grace and I can tell you what that means, but I have neglected to learn and deepen my understanding of that grace. I have taken it for granted. I have wrecked it repeatedly, but yet He gives even more.

I have understood grace with my mind, but not with my heart. If you want to know if someone understands grace in their mind, simply ask them what it means and you can know by their answer. If you want to know if someone understands grace in their heart, observe them. Their actions will show their understanding. How do they respond to sin? How do they respond to the grace they claim to know?

Do they repent, but still find themselves drawn in their previous sin which grace has wiped clean? If they do, they don’t have a deep enough understanding of grace in their heart.

I remember the first time I read Romans 6 about four years ago. I thought Paul was stating obvious facts and I wasn’t appropriately moved by what I read. Of course, we shouldn’t sin just because we are under grace! But Paul understood me better than I did. He was getting at something much deeper than an intellectual acknowledgement of grace and sin. He knew that the heart was more difficult to teach than the mind.

I have abused God’s grace with frightening alacrity. I have spit upon the gifts he has poured upon me. My actions prove that I don’t understand grace the way I should, because my response has not been to love God in gratitude. My response has been to take that grace and celebrate my freedom by abusing it, much in the same way the teenage girl did with the cars her dad gave her.

But God is not some wealthy neglectful father. He wants us to understand His gift and He has given us His word for that purpose. He wants us to use that gift in a way that others will see and then turn to Him for the same gift. Our actions will evidence our understanding of grace and sin, and my actions have indicted me.

Oh Colorado!

I'm posting my photos from the Hermit Basin retreat with Skillman Bible Church. My fiance and my youngest sister came along. Beautiful weather, beautiful mountains and two beautiful women. What a week!

I discovered it's much easier for me to worship in Colorado. I'm trying to figure out how to view Dallas in the same light...

Crazy Good

The title of this blog is the over-simplified and vague description of my life right now. The past two weeks have been both crazy and good. Which is why I have not made the effort to post to my blog in that time frame. I will have more to come soon, but for now the only thing I want to do is introduce the dominant reason for the craziness and especially the goodness. The future Mrs. Jenni Neffendorf, formerly (well, and currently) Miss Jenni Wilson.

God is always good. He gives and takes away but for now He has just been giving. I will remember this time.

Okay, without further ado... (She's the one on the left)

Disappointed but not Surprised

The reactions that I have received from my article were almost inline with what I had expected. The one unexpected response came from, ironically, a filmmaker. I was pleased to see that, even though he disagreed, he chose to accept a challenge and not to scoff. The overall reaction has been not to stop and think but to defensively reject.

To stop and think would mean we might have to consider giving up something we truly adore. We have so much time and money invested into theater, movies and television that we view calling into question the industry as a personal attack and the responses have displayed this reaction. This is sad, but I cannot be too discomforted because though I would like to think better, I know that I am susceptible to this type of misplaced response in other ways.

So I cast no stones; I just ask people to question and think for themselves. But that's like asking a sheep to not be a sheep.

For those interested in seeking truth wherever it may be found:

This is Tozer's essay that I quoted in the article : "The Menace of the Religious Movie"

I also came across a blog by Ryan Martin that researched some opinions on acting and theater from the early Church. I would like to add that I attach this blog merely for the research he did and I am not advocating his opinion and I haven't read his entire blog to ensure no theological differences.

I especially found this excerpt interesting in Augustine's Confessions. Read Chapter II.

June Article on the Brew...

My June article for the Brew Magazine is posted. I'm very interested to see the responses I will get. I pray that it is found to be thought-provoking.

Am I a Fascist?

Fascism is an ideology that believes that the world and humankind can be perfected with the sovereignty of a nation or race. The modern origin of this came from Mussolini who believed that he could, for the greater good, restore the ancient Roman Empire. Of course, we know where Hitler and the Nazi party took this form of government and the destructive path they followed.

Why did this ideology fail? The answer is simpler than you might think. It failed for the same reason all ideologies and governments will fail: this world is fallen. This world is not stumbling or tripped up or looking for its footing. It is fallen and all its inhabitants are depraved. It’s a done deal, this place is forsaken, and evil permeates every crevice. Girls get abducted in open day-lit parking lots; students get murdered on campus and genocide shares equal news coverage with basketball games. None of this is new to us, it is obvious and saddening.

When I viewed local and world missions, it was my perspective that we could improve this state we're in and become, on the whole, a more prosperous place with less oppression and poverty if we could only spread the gospel, in truth, to the ends of the earth. We could achieve a better world with the truth of Christ, and the reason that this hasn’t worked perfectly thus far is because various denominations and Christian cults alike distort (to varying degrees) the truth of the freedom that is found in Christ. I value truth and freedom above all things and I was certain this was the answer. To some degree, I still believe that this works and I think history has plenty of evidence to support this.

However, I grossly missed what God is wanting and expecting from me, and in my arrogance I exalted my own potential. God is not wanting me to feebly attempt to repair the sinking ship. What He wants is simply for me to let people know that their ship is sinking and there is only one way off- His Son.

I’m still not sure how I had been so oblivious to this. I had been going about doing the right things with the wrong aim. I've been immersed in World War II history lately, and I began to realize that when you boiled down my ideology it frighteningly had a lot in common with fascism. I was seeking to make this world better by attempting to institute a Christian nation (with more of a grass roots and peaceful approach).

The only hope for anyone is to be woken up and rescued and only God will do it, but he has asked me to be a part of it (that itself is amazing). A better world is a great thought, but it is only a temporary solution. It’s like using planks to try to patch up the Titanic when we should be building a life boat.

War and Peace

"The steadfast of mind You will keep in perfect peace, because he trusts in You."

This stood out to me this morning as I was reading through the song in Isaiah 26. It probably caught my attention because peace is one of the most elusive of the fruits of the spirit to me. Ok, well let me be honest, rarely can I say that any of them define me, but peace likes to keep a little extra distance from me.

“I was born to go to war, it comes so natural to me…” as Derek Webb sings “I’ve got a poison conscience telling me to go with that.” Is it funny, sad or both that this is the connection I made as I was thinking about the Isaiah text? I think a poison conscience and a disposition to war pretty accurately describes me much of the time. Perfect peace does not.

The peace that eludes me, Isaiah says, is directly related to the steadfastness of my mind. Steadfast - I am a word freak and this is a term that I use but that I wasn’t sure if I had a precise definition. So I sought advice from two dear friends, Merriam and Webster, and they said that it’s being firmly fixed in place. It’s a true definition but as I thought about it, it seems the word is sold short by it.

The definition makes it sound easy, but we know that it’s not; it’s the opposite of easy. This is why Cal Ripken is a baseball hero and marathons are a celebrated accomplishment. And it’s the reason people are in awe of a couple that has been married for 40 years.

To me, steadfast not only connotes being firmly fixed in place, but also what it takes to remain firmly in place. To resist against the things that challenge your ability to remain firm. To be steadfast is to be focused on a goal, but also having broad vision and an engaged mind in order to know what to resist against and how to resist it.

Without effective resistance stamina fails. I have run some marathons and done some things that might prompt people to think I am a man of endurance. But steadfastness is beyond me. My mind is not steadfast on the Lord. This type of steadfastness is as much related to endurance as it is the sober mindedness that Paul speaks of in his epistles.

Without a steadfast mind by way of endurance and sobriety, there is no rest for me. I don’t allow God to fight my wars for me. I don’t trust in God enough to relinquish my command to him. The wars I do fight are in large, causeless.

I must learn to engage my mind more consistently. I must learn to push my thoughts to Christ continuously, so that I may know the battlefield that I am in and that I may know where victory is found. This is what will bring me peace. I have a long way to go.

Eliminating Space and the Guadalupe Mountains

My first article for the Brew Magazine has been posted. If you want to read it, it's on Space and Freedom, you should check out the rest of the magazine while you're there.

And if you're really in need of something to do, I have my photos online from my camping trip to the Guadalupe Mountains over Memorial weekend.

Wants and Hopes

I recently had a friend ask me what it is that I want. In the sense of, if I could paint a picture that is my life, how I want it at this moment, what would that look like. I failed to the think about the question with sufficient depth (a common occurrence), and I answered the question in a dishonest way. Not dishonest in the sense that I was lying, but dishonest in a sense that I was forgetting who God is and what it is He does and why He does what He does, and I wasn't true to God and who I am to Him in my response.

You see, I rattled off some things that I thought would be great in a perfect world, what I thought would be great for me in the future, things that I hope for in this short life. But, she didn't ask what I hoped for, she asked what I wanted. There is a vast difference I think. A want or a desire is attainable to right now, while a hope is something looked forward to at some future point.

When I confuse my hopes and my desires, I am rejecting the plan that God has laid out. When I think that a hope for a wife and a family is good because God said it's not good for man to be alone, then I have distorted the vision that God has given me. God has already told me what I should put my hope in. My hope is Jesus Christ. My hope is not a family, not a wife or a child, nor a house or job. My hope is Jesus Christ... I hope that He continues to not withhold His mercy and His grace from me, I hope that He is looking out for my ultimate good, I hope that He is granting me provision every minute of every day, I hope that He will return and make this sad and painful world right one day, I hope to spend eternity in His presence and learning about Him and loving Him more and more every moment of this infinite life.

Hope in its truest sense, goes hand-in-hand with trust. I hope in these things because I trust what God has told me and what He has showed me. So why do I put desires in the place of hopes? I do this because I don't trust God, I don't know in my heart that He'll follow through even though He always has thus far, and I don't believe that someone like me is truly lovable by a perfect and infinite Being.

So what are wants and desires in light of hope? The psalmist says that God gives us the desires of our hearts. I don't understand this to mean that because I want something God will give it to me, even in the sense that the desire is good. I don't believe this to be what is being said. I think He is saying that as we understand God more and in a deeper sense, He will create within us desires that are of Him. Our desires become godly.

If this is the case, that our desires become godly, a true definition of a desire is not an object. It cannot be a person or an achievement. God doesn't command to achieve anything or attain to anything, and He doesn't promise us anything tangible. A true definition of desire is an emotion or passion that moves us to action. This is the type of answer that I should have given when the question was posed to me.

So here is my answer rethought to anyone who cares...
I want to love God.
I want to love people.
I want my heart to break when a friend hurts.
I want to serve people.
I want to hold other people's babies (because I have none of my own)
I want to impact someone in a way that exalts Christ.
I want to learn.
I want to learn more about the depth of my God and how He works and the way He thinks and loves.
I want to learn more about the plights of international cultures that are not born into the privilege and comfort that I was, so that compassion boils within me until I do something.
I want to learn more about the communities of these same cultures that I can understand how very poor people do and love so much more than I do with seemingly so much less to offer.
I want to read more... More Bible, more classic fiction, more world history, more biographies, more about coffee.
I want to write more... more than just a blog.
I want to know my friends so well that I can always guess what they're thinking, but I would never let them know I know.
I want to be silent.
I want to eat and drink foods that I've never had before and I want to do them while immersed in the culture from where they originated.
I want to pray. To pray for friends that I know and brothers and sisters that I don't know. I want to pray big and I want to pray small.
I want to live every day of the 29 or 95 years that this great God has granted me on earth.
I just want to live and hope that the way that I do it glorifies God.

Depravity and the Mavs

I have finally seen it. I have seen the lowest, most humiliating and shallow point that our society can reach. Well, I’m sure that we can and have gone much lower, but this is the lowest I have witnessed first-hand in recent memory. As I diverted myself last week for a few hours to watch a greatly competitive basketball game between the Mavericks and the Phoenix Suns, I witnessed new depths to our depravity as a society.

As has become popular at most sporting events these days, there were confused and scantily-clad young women doing something that I cannot call dancing in between whistles. I would categorize these young women as prostitutes, as they are being paid for nothing more than to stimulate the lust in the hearts of men. I understand this may come across as harsh, and assuredly they do not view themselves in this manner, but I cannot see this any other way. However, I might think more highly of prostitution on a street corner as opposed to this type of prostitution because this is done solely for the reason keeping our attention during a 60-second timeout, but I digress…

Now, I try my best to keep my eyes fixed on the floor or in the opposite direction when these young women prance to the court, but depravity has a diabolical way of bringing other depravity to the surface. As I glanced up from the roster in my hand about midway through the fourth quarter, my eyes witnessed one of the most pathetic sights that I can ever recall. The Mavericks have what are called MAAniacs. These are the exact physical opposites of the young dancing women, all done for the sake of humor. They are a group of mostly middle-aged, very overweight men with not a lot to do otherwise. Evidently nothing could be more humorous in Dallas than these men. Then add in a midget and we have non-stop laughs and entertainment for the entire evening. The best way I can describe this group to you is to picture in your head the combined epitome of sloth and gluttony and pull that across 40 years.

So now on the court, I stared as if watching a train wreck, and I see the dozen falsely attractive prostitutes doing a semi-clothed strip tease and they are surrounded by the dozen aging obese couch potatoes and a midget who are doing their best to imitate that strip tease, and all of this done to worthless music and to 14,000 cheering and laughing fans whose cheers and laughs get heartier when the fat men shake their rear in the air.

One of the saddest parts of this observation is that, if I’m on honest, on another night, perhaps I’m one of the laughing fans and in my mind I’m eerily aware of that fact. But last night I couldn’t laugh, I was saddened and angry. I was saddened by observing what these people were ignorantly flaunting, I was more saddened by observing how the crowd was so pleased to have them make subhuman spectacles of themselves, and I was angered by the fact that the producers of this debauchery is what they thought we paid to see, and I was more angered by the fact that they were right.

Please keep in mind; this is that Dallas in the home of the mega-church, and its smack in the middle of the Bible belt. This is not New York or Hollywood. How can we have so much knowledge and awareness of Christ surrounding us and yet still praise such debauchery? What is it in us that makes become like dogs that will bark at anything? How can we be blind to the way we seek to consume in anyway we can? How can we forget that we are humans and not dogs? The answer is not as much that that we are blind to our consumption as we are content with it. We know that we are humans but choose willingly to equate ourselves with the dogs.

Outside of perhaps Steve Nash in between dance routines, there is not one creative act going on. The music is that of consumption and not creativity, the clothing (or lack thereof) on the young women is that of consumption and not of beauty, the dancing is not of artistic expression but of consumption, all of this is consuming the women in the stands as they take note of what they need to strive for to gain the attention of a man, the obese men with bellies hanging out and over have seemingly known nothing outside of consumption their whole lives and this is obvious to any observer, the men in the stands consume further as they laugh not because of true comedy (which can be creative) but mostly because they have found someone they are in their minds clearly superior to and that is hilarious, and I need not comment on the midget. This is something truly pathetic and sad. It is worth grieving over.