dave at grace pages writes a letter to his former pastor about spiritual abuse.

this month i have been reading about leaders. offbeat, genius, important men and women who changed their world. and i have been reading about hitler.

it's hard to look objectively at someone like hitler. it is politically incorrect to mention that he had any good qualities. case in point - my son nathan did a debate on the leadership style of hitler for school and most of his peers and teachers were livid that he would defend the man's abilities. he was evil. he was bad... all bad. nathan won the debate but lost political points. people were offended.

nathan was able to differentiate between the man's abilities and his deficiencies. others could not. they were clouded by his evil genius, nathan was not. he understood the issues, debated the pros and cons, and presented what was arguably the most objective side of the issue. he pissed people off.

i was proud of the fact that my son was mature enough to understand the complexities of the issue. as a lover of history, even at 18, he has an incredible depth of understanding. he wept while watching hotel rwanda; he was disturbed during american history x. he has watched hours of footage on the genocides in ww2, rwanda, sudan and the congo. he is a humanitarian and a compassionate lover of justice and the oppressed. yet still he was able to delineate the core issues and differentiate between fact and politically correct rhetoric.

as i muddle my way through a manuscript on offbeat leadership i have been inspired by my son to take a serious look at the leadership greatness of adolf hitler. it is apparent, as i have read, that the man was truly an inspiring individual. how else could a relative no name garner such an incredible allegience? though he is guilty of immeasurable crimes he still has something to teach us. thus far in my writing i have not addressed his negative side. the writing in that area is legion. i am thinking of leaving it out completely; ending my paper having only praised his ability. it will undoubtedly provoke a great deal of discomfort. i'm not sure i care.

where do i send my... burp! resume....

from len at resonate:
But then someone else stood up. He was a math teacher from Nigeria who started a little home group in 1974, which grew into a church of 120,000 in the Sunday meeting, and they had already planted roughly 4500 churches. He stood up and said, " In African we don't have all these problems you have described. In Africa we have only one problem, and it stands right in front of your nose. I am the problem. You ahve to pray for me with my small vision that I will not stand in the way of God's big vision. Pray for me that I with my great plan will not stand in the way of God's greater plan. That I with my small dreams will not stand in the way of God's dream for not only me, for for the nations. Pray that this problem will be solved.. the only real way is through the cross." Wolfgang Simson

rose has an amazing post filled with honesty and introspection.

I used to think that providing for my family was enough to let them know I love them. That’s not true of course. That very subject was brought up during a deep conversation with a couple friends this week and one of the guys mentioned that we can wash the car, mow the lawn, and take out the trash every week but that doesn’t say anything to our family. He said if we interact every day with the heart of the woman with whom we’ve chosen to spend our lives, the chores become meaningless.
I thought “Wow, what a great way to get out of work.”

more hilarity here.
via

Chris Erdman writes:
Is it a good thing when the church makes Business Week's front page? "Earthly Empires: How evangelical churches are borrowing from the business playbook" (or click here for link) is a remarkable piece, with happy pastors smiling at me and buildings inspiring me and numbers testifying to astonishing success. It is ecclesiastical pornography at its best. Lusting pastors look longingly at the new sirens of the age. And who can resist wanting to satistfy the desire for such success, relevance, financial, social, and political clout?
more here.

ecclesiastical pornography... i love that.

What message does this show the world...and what is the alternative that this offers.
via

daryl's honest reflections:
well, i don't know. i mean do we all actually know who God is? i've made it my life's work to try to get to know this God person, but there are days where the best i can manage is a benevolent idea or a being that is at the centre of the 'intelligent design' theory. on those days i'm not sure what kind of an example i am. do people really want the real deal, or is it just going to get awkwardly honest?
more here

i have spent the week reading, amongst other things, great biographies on leadership. and not just any leader or the latest swill of the month. leaders who were offbeat, heroic, insecure and real.

one overwhelming theme has been the realization that great doers are racked with self doubt and even regret. they don't necessarily see themselves as special, though the world deems them as such. they are simply people, in some of the most difficult situations, who refuse to bow a knee; whether that be to tyranny or pressures, both internal and external.

most of us don't feel like winners, alot of the time. we are flooded by feelings of inadequacy. i remember, like it was yesterday, when i started my last church. i was actually shocked at it's success. deep inside i knew that i could not pull anything of value off. i knew on some subconscious level that i was a loser, destined for great potential but no real success. i was completely wrong that day. i hope i am as wrong on many occasions.

the fact remains though that most, if not all of us, feel a crushing realization that we are not who we wish we could be. we replay the tapes of our failures. we know better than anyone that we are not worthy of success. whenever the next failure comes, we are not surprised.

i have spent far too much of my life thinking i was unworthy - believing that i was ugly or childish or immoral or just simply unlovable. i grew up with a great deal of criticism. not from my family, who have always believed the best in me, but from the world outside. it is hard to be an extrovert, to be controversial, to be mouthy. it is no doubt just as difficult to be an introvert or physically challenged or fat or ugly or plain or a poor student. we all carry within us the scars and stings of criticism. our schools, playgrounds and work have been havens of negativity.

today i ran across someone who told me that they had talked about me to a friend recently. immediately i assumed the worst, immediately i proferred excuses for things that were to be mentioned. it did not turn out that there was any criticism leveled, though i had immediately assumed i had done something or said something or was being talked about in some negative fashion. it has become an ingrained response when i know things are being said about me. perhaps we all tend to believe that others are critical or demeaning. unfortunately we are often right.

the world we live in has been designed to hurt us. to be confident is to be arrogant. to do well is to invite criticism. when good things come our way it is "to god be the glory". somehow, though, when things go poorly it is always our fault. we are told that without god's grace we are nothing. we blow off compliments and adulation but are quick to believe the negative. it is, i believe, the way we are built.

it is no surprise then that we are all struggling with insecurity complexes. it is the disease of our culture. everyone i know struggles to find value in themselves. we are our own worst critics (although there seems to be no shortness of critics waiting in the wings).

i am constantly alarmed by the judgmental attitudes of those who call themselves "christian". although i hate to admit it, i am often guilty as well. their love is conditional. they love you until you screw up too much, say too many wrong things, make the wrong choices in your life or your marriage, then they feel it is their god-given right to write you off "in christian love."

that is why it is refreshing to know there are people out there who love you no matter what. so many of your friends will tell you they love you that way; so few mean it. but there are those few that you cannot shock, cannot hurt enough, cannot disappoint out of your life. they are your true allies. they do not believe the press about you. they disagree with your self-assessment, they call bullshit when you demean yourself. they believe in you and love you no matter what. they affirm your worth. they refuse to hurt you anymore than you are already suffering.

and it won't matter to them how much you blow it, how many sins you commit, how many bad choices you have made - they love you in spite of who you are. they are god's love for you. when the dust clears, when others have deemed you unworthy to love, they are still there. it is those people who offer you god's unconditional love. and there are fewer of them than many let on.

the bible says that god is not easily shocked by our sins.
that he is patient with our shortcomings.
that he is full of forgiveness and love.
no matter what.

people will disappoint you, judge you, hurt you and talk about you behind your back, but god won't. and there are a few others out there who won't either. cherish them. i wish i could be one of them.

Never give in--never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.
Sir Winston Churchill

ok, i'll do it, so leave me alone!
excluding my faith, individuals, here's my list:

my sons. They are the best part of my life. They constantly amuse me, fill me with hope. They are the lights of my life. Different, unique, but amazing. They are tender and yet tough, kinder than you could imagine, thoughtful and protective. The hearts of a warrior, the souls of a poet.

the friends who love me in spite of how I am, not because of it.

my home - my haven, my comfort zone, the frat house.

touch

adventure coupled with fear and exhilaration. The more fear, the better.

being ‘in the zone’.

nature. The feel of a paddle slicing the quiet water, the rush of rapids, the piercing rays of the sun, the smell of a flower, the ocean.

history. I love to read about the epic adventures, the political strife, the victory and the tragedy. I am a romantic.

the poor, the lonely, the hungry. The addict. I love the honesty, the feeling that you matter to them, the knowing that they matter to you.

music. The louder the better. I hate hymns and anything from hillsongs or the conservative choruses; but I love the dj, the guitar solo, the power chord, the sax, the screamer, the driving beat, the anthem, the power ballad, the crushing solo and the tearful lament. And of course, Celtic music.

technology. I am a geek at heart

art/poetry/creativity. The scent of a woman.

this reminds me of the last time i was at the west edmonton mall and i ran into a guy in a speedo. i guess i should have just kept walking but i couldn't without looking him in the eye and saying, "what were you thinking!?"

link

today i picked up three new books:
'the character and greatness of winston churchill'
'shake hands with the devil'
'the rise and fall of the third reich'

all huge books. who needs a social life?

here are some related articles here, here, and here.

there is a lively discussion going on over on lori's blog with regard to blog ettiquette. this is a subject that probably needs to be visited and revisited. there are several good resources on the net with regard to this subject but here's my two cents:

1. don't get personal. many of us have felt the sting of pointed ridicule. if you want to tell a questionable story about someone else, ask their permission. just this morning i wandered across slanderous comments about me that i had no idea existed. play nice. don't tell stories about your friends or family that will hurt or embarrass them. don't air your dirty laundry in public. deal with it one on one. when in doubt, shut up.

2. don't misquote people. don't talk about their opinions out of context.

3. edit your comments if someone is hurtful or innappropriate. don't put up with slander on your site. it sends a bad message. i'm not saying that you should edit negative responses to your stuff. keep those, they make great fodder for discussion. some of us have suspended our comments completely because of innappropriate slander. don't be afraid to turn off your comments if you have to.

4. don't treat fiction as fact. leave that to the legitimate media.

5. edit twice, post once. or not at all.

i have broken some of my own rules and friends are quick to point out when i get petty. that is a good thing. they sent me an email, not a public rebuke. thank you.

the things women are willing to do...

link

pic from my eldest's grad on friday/saturday. we know where he gets his good looks from...

this last week as i was crossing the border the guard asked me what my occupation was. i hesitated for a moment before admitting, "i'm a computer tech". it was hard to say. for so many years i have been a minister that to see myself in any other light is almost impossible.

i am shocked by how much of my identity is wrapped up in what i do for a living. i have long maintained quite the reverse, that we are defined by our relationships and by far loftier ideals. it has been a revelation for me, albeit a difficult one, to admit how much being a minister means to me.

i have had to admit to myself that i am an elitist. somewhere deep down, in my darker place, i have convined myself that i am somehow special because of my social standing. it is hard for me to write this. i tried to talk to someone about this today and they told me i was a snob. i was trying to explain to them that they are exactly correct, thus the reason i was bringing it up. i am not saying this to be proud, i find it mildly disgusting.

it is hard for me to believe that i have inwardly delighted in the added privileges, the social standing, or the persona. i have taken it for granted that i cast a significant shadow but have dismissed it, even denied it. i have proudly spoken of 'all of us being equal' but have, on some subconscious level, enjoyed the fact that i am 'more equal'.

this began to come to light as i realized how ashamed i was to admit i was just a 'computer tech'. there is nothing dishonorable about such a vocation, in fact many would love my job. there is nothing ignoble about working for a living to feed one's family. it is honorable to get up in the morning and sacrifice your day to put your children or yourself through school or life. it's just that... well... i've always been a minister. always. somewhere along the way i got used to being the center of attention. somehow it mattered. it's embarrassing to admit.

i took this break from ministry to become anonymous. i wanted to get out of the spotlight and the criticism, of which there has been plenty. i am only now realizing what that move has come to signify.

right now the band is playing in the basement. i long to be there, to be leading the songs, to be leading the worship. but i can't. i have so far yet to go.

thanks to jordon for this great link to videos describing the rwandan genocide.

My God, if I had a piece of life... I wouldn't let a single day pass without telling the people I love that I love them. I would convince each woman and each man that they are my favorites, and I would live in love with love.

final thots from nobel laureate Gabriel Garcia Marquez here.

i am a poser. a scottish poser. it was with some distress, then, that i read annette's blog about her lineage this morning. although she wrote with humility and restraint i still wanted to beat her up. she is related to the lesser kings of scotland, the clan douglas, the black douglas, the flower of chivalry, the earl of montrose, several prominant jacobites, the earls of the isles and moray, and archibald the grim. my relatives were probably crouching with their mangy faces in the mud as her snooty relatives rode by on the way to the battle of bannockburn. her one relative invented logarithms. my relatives probably didn't go to school. william douglas was the only earl to harrass the english and the first to recognize william wallace's worth. he was the driving force behind the early days of the scottish revolution and the douglas boys were considered the greatest knights in christendom, according to the papacy. my relatives ate beets alot.

oppressor!

it's interesting how we so desire to 'be someone'. annette seems to take it all in stride. i would be ordering kilts, writing articles and booking vacations. we name drop, we associate ourselves with people of influence, we trace our lineages back to find out if we are illegitimate heirs to the throne. one of the things i find hilarious about those who buy into reincarnation is that have you ever noticed that every one of them was once an indian princess or cupbearer to ganghis khan? nobody ever admits that in a past life they were accountants or a parsnip.

and we line up to catch a glimpse of paris hilton or a princess, we pose with our friends about who and what we know. we posture in order to gain face or credibility. it's a vicious cycle. annette hasn't done that at all... i'm thinking i would.

we want to be somebody, even by association. it's too bad that we have this drive to impress, this childish need to be recognized and adored. i know i do.

"Coolness might help in your negotiation with people through the world, maybe, but it is impossible to meet God with sunglasses on.It is impossible to meet God without abandon, without exposing yourself, being raw."-Bono

link

latest update on george anthony:
he's alive, possibly broken hip and shoulder, got him over the border to san diego. chris did a "backroom deal" with the mexican police so they wouldn't take the bikes. george is stable and they are trying to airlift him home asap. hasn't seen a doctor yet but looks like he doesn't have internal injuries or broken back. thank god for his helmet (smashed). seems he hit a pothole, something got in his back fender and his front wheel locked. flipped off the bike and impaled himself somehow on the steering column. chris was left on the side of the road alone with no info and no idea at first where he was.

thanks for praying. just got off the phone with ryan - relieved beyond words.

van has a hilarious post that puts things in a different perspective. here's a taste:
There are a few strange things about the Bible, but one that I am most amazed about is the lack of fart jokes. As all men know, if you put 12 men together one of them is going to be a little different, and make a little more noise than the rest. It’s a proven fact of science that one of them is going to have a problem farting. Counting Jesus and the disciples that makes a total of 13 (not counting the paparazzi lurking in the shadows). Somebody in that troupe was a farter. But who?

more here.

please pray for george anthony who was just in a serious motorcycle accident when his bike seized doing high speeds in a desolate part of mexico. chris is sitting on the side of a forgotten road guarding the bikes and george has been rushed to an unknown hospital. just got off the phone with Ryan Anthony. awaiting further developments.

Jesus did not get into trouble with the powers of his day simply by challenging his individual hearers. He challenged the very systems of his society - the cornerstones. Just as the values of Madison Avenue, Wall Street, and the Pentagon conflict with the gospel, so too with Jesus and the institutions of his time: he took on the power structures of his own day, religious and civil alike.

via

shocking interview with the former english ambassador to uzbekistan this morning on CBC radio indicting the US for turning a blind eye to the horrors of the dictatorship because of the concessions made by the local government giving US troops a strong military presence and of course... oil.

from reuters:
The bloodshed in eastern Uzbekistan started early on Friday when between 60 and 100 armed men stormed the local prison to free 23 inmates accused of belonging to an illegal group related to the Hizbut Tahrir Islamic movement. They also released some 2,000 other prisoners.
Thousands of people in the city, located in the impoverished and densely populated Ferghana valley, had been demonstrating against the trial of the 23 freed men. They claimed all the charges against the group had been trumped up by the government.
After the prison breakout, the gunmen seized public buildings, while a crowd of about 5,000 supporters demonstrated outside against the government. Security forces opened fire on the crowd, killing hundreds, witnesses said.
In her home city of Andijan, Zuhra was a housewife. She went to the demonstration on Friday with her husband and four children. When police and soldiers began shooting at the group, killing hundreds according to human rights groups, Zuhra and her family fled, along with hundreds of other people.

"This hits at what I think is the root of why the church fears the web. Many churches generally won't allow individuals the freedom to create compelling content and enter into a conversation. Churches aren't friendly to conversation. The worship is lead from the worship leader. The sermon is prepared and presented by the pastor. The congregation watches. It is one way communication. Early on when I was fooling around online I was apart of a mailing list that was hosted by Ginghamsburg Church's web team. Around forty or fifty of us would talk about web ministry and help each other out. One of the topics that kept coming up was how do we fit the web team into the traditional command and control structure of the church and have content approved and things properly vetted. The church didn't trust anyone to create any content. It needed a committee to make sure it was all okay. It was before the Cluetrain Manifesto was out and articulated it for us but it was true, organizations can't have a conversation and I think organizations also fear the individual."

Jordon Cooper, "Seeking Goes Digital...Church Stays Analogue"

i read several blog comments lately with regard to the frustration many have over the overindulgence of labelling spiritual movements with terms like 'postmodern'. many seemed frustrated that we were more concerned about defining than we were about living. on most levels i wholeheartedly agree. it appears that there are far more theoraticians than there are practitioners. i do feel, however, that it is important to understand that everything we do is underpinned by philosophy whether we realize it or not. here was my 'devil's advocate' blog response that was pointed and bordered, in retrspect, on being insensitive:
is it possible that by a few of us 'giving a crap' about the inherent HUGE philosophical ramifications of these so-called labels that it makes it possible for a generation of people to experience god in a way that they can understand. it is absolutely fundamental that some eggheads take the time to exegete the culture and the shifts in order that the rest of us don't have to.
the germans in 1933 voted in facism because they were philosophically ignorant of the ramifications and thought 'intellectualism' was stupid. churches buy into ridiculous crap all the time because their leaders are too stupid to research. the theological and philosophical underpinnings of any movement defines everything. everything.

what i was trying to address is that many of us enjoy going to churches or debating topics where there is an inherent understanding that we hold certain truths to be self-evident. for many of us the need to address the poor, to be authentic, to be real and raw seem obvious. sometimes we forget that those understandings were not born in a vacuum, that somewhere along the way we too had to learn these now 'self-evident' truths which are highly philosophical in nature.

throughout the life of the church in which i have been involved we have spent literally hundreds of hours reading, researching, and debating the merits of things which most casual observers come to believe are obvious. they really are not. the propensity to fall into ditches, misinterpret scripture and culture, and fail to understand the workings of god, is enormous. my own church, new heights, is highly philosophical in nature and lives and dies by a vision that simply 'is' to those who are not involved in the process. to assume that we just 'know' the will of god for the multi-facets of our ministry is very nieve.

postmodernity is not a foolish egghead philosophy which bears no relation to real life. it is crucial that, while we frustrate over the labels and misuse, we have some people out there who are asking the hard questions that the rest of us take for granted. otherwise we will blindly march into error and stupidity without a clue.

having said all that.... ya it pisses me off that everyone talks about it and so few churches and spiritual people actually ever do it.

sat and wept through hotel rwanda.

liz speaks honestly (and controversially) about her battle with anti-depressants here.

my son turns 18 tomorrow, a man.
it's hard to believe.
how can that be?
i'm so young...

i don't want him to grow up.
to leave home.
to fall in love.
to become independent.

i don't want to let go.
it feels like just yesterday i lost my wife,
now in some way,
my boy.

it sucks being an adult.

at least my youngest boy will be home till he's 38 or 40... he's a musician.

jordon does a great job, while hopped up on painkillers, of taking on the critics. here's a taste:

If we really are the enemy, we really are a pathetic enemy. Brian McLaren is one of the most charitable people I have ever met. Andrew Jones has said that not only is Brian smarter than the rest of us but he is also nicer than the rest of us. As a movement (oops, I mean conversation) we have more blogs than churches. At the last Worship Freehouse I looked out and thought, "This is the enemy? A bunch of people exploring the Parable of the Prodigal Son in a rented facility?" Probably the most popular of all emerging websites is TheOoze which would get a fraction of traffic that any mainline Christian portal gets. My blog is poorly read and it is probably more popular than a lot of your blog. We fail at almost every measure of success. I don't know how many books sales that Brian McLaren or Len Sweet make but compare them to the Prayer of Jabez or Left Behind or Purpose Driven Life for Toddlers 6 to 24 months and I think they might come out last. Where is this threat that people are talking about? A really nice pastor from Maryland and a bunch of church planters who haven't figured out how to pay basic bills...
(why are all college and career pastors now called, "Pastor to Emerging Generations" or something lame like that?)

more here.

i haven't really eaten in about a week. the occasional partial milkshake, a bowl of oatmeal yesterday, but basically i've been fasting due to the loss of my tonsils. and i've been soooo hungry. unfortunately, however, the payoff for eating does not even remotely equal the cost. so i've lost a few pounds.

i was prepared today to ask the doctor for more drugs. much more. but for some reason, unknown to me, i woke up feeling much much better today. i did not eat anything this morning, expecting that at any moment my throat would wake up and introduce me to a world of pain. but sure enough, things got better and better.

i had my one week appointment today and the doc said everything was going swimmingly. as i pulled out of the parking lot a beautiful sign, a wonderful sign, loomed on the horizon.... Tim Hortons. i pulled through the drive-thru and ordered soup, a baguette, a plain doughnut and a coffee - a virtual feast after a week. i was determined to soak everything in soup or coffee before i swallowed. i was on a mission.

as i pulled into traffic i turned into a bad remake of Lord of the Rings. i was literally talking out loud, to no one in particular, "ah sweet doughnut... and a baguette!! ah, my sweet baguette, my lovely baguette, my.... precious!"

right now i'm soaking my grilled cheese sandwich on calabrese bread in ketchup and hot chocolate... heaven.

I’m unemployed and rediscovering daytime television. Sure I have several projects on the go but I leave the TV on for company most days.
Spin City is on in the mornings. I have always loved Michael J. Fox as an actor – his timing is superb. This morning they are showing his last episode where he says goodbye to the team at City Hall. I try not to get choked up but there are parallels in my own life that make it hard to watch it with any measure of detachment. Mike takes one for the team, I’m not sure if I have done that, but the episode is about relationships. He says to the gang at the bar, when asked what the best thing he has done is, that ‘they’ are the best thing he has done. It touched me deep.

As I look back at my years at New Heights we have tried to live outside the box. We have tried to redefine church for as many people as we could. We have tried to make a real difference in a world where churches talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. That is all a very good thing but what I love most is the friends that have joined along the way. I guess one of the things that hurts a pastor most is when some of those friends leave. For me it has always been about relationships. For me they have been life and reason, the best part of what I have been allowed to be a part of.

So what is the best thing I have done with my life? It’s that day on the lawn when I sat with several teens waiting for a dear friend to die. It’s baptizing that reformed hooker. It’s about Chad coming over that Christmas my life fell apart. It’s watching that person blossom and grow in a job she never imagined would be hers. It’s that time when I preached about being a friend like Barnabus and compared him to a friend that has always refreshed me – only to have him come to me after the service in tears and lament that he wasn’t more like that man I spoke about. I said to him, “mike, you are that man!”

It’s the big shows I would put on with my techie buddy and the team – not the shows themselves but the time after when we would shake hands and know we did something magical. It’s about dancing with Harlene at Street Church. It’s the day I met that young intern at Lou’s Grill. When I think back on my last 9 years I remember the lives that have been changed. Mine too.

My life has been indelibly changed by those hours on Eagle Cres. By the countless times people have told me they love me. The days in Costa Rica, sweating and laughing. I remember a few services, times when I knew we had entered the “zone”. When God showed up and I was humbled. The first prayer circle. The day we did “men in black” in the morning service. I remember when Wilma shared her heart on a Sunday morning. When Steve confessed his darkest secret in front of 400 people. I remember hours and days, but mostly I remember moments.

I remember tender and powerful moments. That handshake or hug that people thought meant nothing to me but touched me too deep to express. The time a friend took me to the hospital when I couldn’t take it anymore. Hours spent in the shed recording. My first service. My last service.

When I look back at the so called “accomplishments” and accolades that New Heights has received I’m already noticing that the press coverage, the articles, the visitors and the records set seem meaningless now. What I have loved are the people. They are my friends, my family and my dreams.

It’s been hard this past couple of years to really be honest with my friends. My feelings are often too close to the surface, or too deeply hidden. I still have a hard time reading compliments and blog comments because I have been skewed by life. So here I sit, reflecting back on the legacy and realize that I have found acceptance for the first time in my life and true love beyond the vocation. It’s easy to write but hard to believe.

Jesus can't be nailed down. The Pharisees had their truth, Jesus didn't fit into their concept of truth, so they tried to nail down the truth of God. Nail him to wooden dogmas and locked-tight, shrink-wrapped doctrines. and the Holy Spirit pulls a Harry Houdini: Jesus breaks free every time...truth will always rise from the dead.
more from weary pilgrim here.

sorry for the lack of blog action this week. got my tonsils out and it's hard to feel creative when you have this overwhelming desire to smash your own head against a wall!

anyone who knows me knows how much i value symbolism. while i was pastoring new heights church we often gave out visual reminds, icons if you will, to the people - dimes and forks, magnets and plants etc., several times a year.

last summer two friends bought me a ring. it was my "freedom ring". i wore it to remind me that i had received some healing in my life and some of the demons that haunted me no longer held sway. i would look at that symbol and remind myself that i didn't have to live in darkness. i found it to be a powerful tool when i was tempted to feel sorry for myself.

i no longer wear that ring. at first it was because the ring tended to get bent alot. hauling equipment every week was hard on that $50 item. then one day i forgot to put it back on. i meant to put it on when i got home but by the time i slipped it on my finger it had lost some of it's power.

i gradually realized that i no longer needed a symbol to remind me of that day in august. somewhere along the line i had stopped needing to convince myself that i was ok - i simply knew i was. in the next months i wish i could say that things went well and i would no longer require reminders but i cannot. actually, after a brief honeymoon period, things got hellishly bad.

and from time to time my friends would check in with me, unsure how i was doing. they remembered the pit i had fallen into before and probably would not have been surprised had i dive bombed again. but i didn't. it seems the healing was in fact real. though circumstances worsened i somehow knew i was going to survive. hurtful things didn't penetrate like they had only months before and i wasn't tempted (as much) to feel sorry for myself all the time. i can't say that i was infinitely strong in any way - i just wasn't 'sick' anymore.

i still have the ring. it is in the top drawer of my dresser, beat up and twisted. i like that. it has become a symbol of a different sort for me now -a reminder of a time when i found that healing could happen, and not just to someone else. a symbol of the fight that came immediately after and how it was only in that problem time where i learned that what had happened was in fact real.

and somewhere along the line the symbol became truth and i stopped hoping and started living again.

some things stick in your mind forever. special dates, pin numbers, your first kiss, the day your dad left. moments.

i remember my first solo sunday in denver. i had been matched with an experienced church planter who reeked of charisma. they called him the weeping prophet. together we planted a church in a suburban neighborhood. he did the majority of the preaching, i got stuck with the crap jobs.
then he left.
well actually, first he had us purchase a building with a church of just over 50, take a huge mortgage out and launch a ton of new programs. then he left.
i was 23 years old. i was the kid. the youth pastor. the underling. they asked me to stay, after much debate, to lead the church. i wasn't even a shadow of the other guy. people began to leave.
i was in way over my head and i knew it. the church knew it. everyone knew it. i would sit in my desk and wonder what the hell i was doing there. then herb walked in.
herb was the key guy in that church. he was in his mid-forties, a successful professional, well off, and a real leader. he had been the other pastor's confidant and friend. herb had forgotten more about leading an organization than i knew.
that day in the office herb gently reminded me that i didn't know what i was doing but he didn't leave it there. he encouraged me to stick it out. he told me he would follow me as his pastor.
it meant everything to me.
as soon as others found out they quietly took herb's lead and things began to get better. week after week i would stand in front of a room full of people older and wiser than i was, and they let me believe i was the leader. i made horrendous mistakes but they kept encouraging me, supporting me, praying for me and believing. they were amazing people.
i am thankful for the patience of those good people in aurora, colorado. they understood that i had potential. they believed in what i represented, even if they struggled to believe in me. they gave me a chance.
much of what i have accomplished in my life is due to the patient humility of people like herb higman. i have long since lost touch with them but i wish i could say thanks.
give people a chance.

Many of us have regrets. I have had a few....
- I regret that when I was 5 years old I threw a match in a gas can to see if there was any gas left... in the gas can
- I regret that when I was a child I tried to hang myself by the clothesline (I think it may have affected me)
- I regret I ever uttered the words, “boy it would be great to live up north”
- I used to date this incredible girl. I regret that it didn’t work out. I mean she gave me some crap about not listening to her or something. I don’t really remember, I wasn’t really paying attention.
- I regret ever listening to my dad when he told me to “PULL HIS FINGER
- On a more serious note, I regret letting my sister get me stoned in the front seat of her boyfriends car when I was 14.
- Years later I regretted lying to my young bride about my drug addiction problem.
- I regret not taking the time to drag out of that person what i needed to hear.
- I regret the fact that i have had to die in order to learn to listen.

"You either gotta get busy living, or get busy dying." Shawshank Redemption

- it's easy to get on with dying. it's harder to live. it takes way more effort and the payoff usually isn't there. the storybooks are often wrong. there is no brass ring at the end of the race in this lifetime. life isn't fair. get over it.

- easy to say. hard to do. i don't generally "get over" things as well as some others. it's easy to carry regrets forever. it's easy to spend one's time wondering what could have been without embracing what is.

When you dance with the devil, the devil don't change... the devil changes you."
Max from 8MM

Hate is baggage, life's too short to be pissed off all the time, its just not worth it.
American History X

I think people who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch.
As good as it gets

Now it's time for one of my favorite cartoons. It's a sad, depressing story about a pathetic coyote who spends every waking moment in the futile persuit of a sadistic roadrunner, who mocks him and laughs at him as he is repeatedly crushed and maimed. I hope you enjoy it!
Uncle Nutzie, UHF

Minstrel: [singing] Bravely bold Sir Robin, brough forth from Camelot. He was not afraid to die, oh brave Sir Robin. He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways, brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin. He was not in the least bit scared to being mashed into a pulp, or to have his eyes carved out, and his elbows broken. To have his knee cut split, and his body burned away, and his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin. His head smashed in and heart cut out, and his liver removed, and his bowels unplugged, and his nostrils ripped and his bottom burned off and his penis...

"They call him the Sand Spider." -"Why?" "Probably bec