This Moment

I’m listening to Pink Moon by Nick Drake right now. I don’t know why it is, but I love this song. It kind of centers me. I’m not even sure what it means really, but the images that it gives me are serene and confident. It’s like I have the whole world in front of me, and a lifetime of experience behind me. I guess that’s true regardless, but it just sounds better saying that while I’m listening to the song. I’m in the midst of the struggle. You know, those daily things that could get you down if you let them? I’m in the middle of it. That’s ok though. That’s life isn’t it? You get through and sometimes you laugh, and sometimes you weep. Your mood determines your spirit sometimes. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Of course then you have those moments of complete happiness and laughter. The moments when the music seems so inspiring that just by listening to it, you could do anything. “Each passing moment is another chance to turn it all around.” That was a quote by one of the characters in the Tom Cruise movie Vanilla Sky. It is an enormous truth wrapped up in a short 11 words. So…I’ll take this moment. I’ll enjoy it. I’ll just think about the Pink Moon…whatever that is.

We'll never really know until...

It’s Thursday. I got back into town Tuesday night from a fun-filled week in Disney with my family. My 3 year old was simply amazed at this whole new world. To her, it was real. She loves Belle from Beauty and the Beast, so when she saw her at a lunch, she couldn’t take her eyes off of her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of my daughter. That uninhibited stare. The adoration…actually it was more amazement I think. She had seen this princess on the magic boxes in her living room and in our Mini. But, now she was actually seeing her live for the very first time. It was a moment to remember…for me really. I’m sure she’ll probably forget. But I won’t.

I’m glad we went. This week I realized how crazy in love I am with my wife and my daughter. I would have done anything for them. Before we went, we would tell her about Disney and she would smile a little. But it was kind of like the Bible describing heaven to us. We can only imagine what it is through the words that people use in the description. We’ll never really know what it’s like until we get there. When Liv walked through those gates and saw the castle towering before her, she couldn’t do anything but giggle. The excitement just shot out of her. And her eyes - to see her seeing that place for the first time – wow! I think Jesus is going to want to walk with us through heaven for the first time. But, to him, he’ll be more interested in seeing that excited look on our faces. He’s described it to us, but He knows that we’ll never really understand until we get there. Of course, I’m sure it’ll be a bit better than Disney.

Intro Video Project

I just finished another Sunday Morning Intro Video. I tell you…this was like pulling teeth. I was trying to get something that was a bit more modern, but I think I ended up doing something similar to what I’ve already done. It’s interesting because I approach these things with a truly clean slate, I don’t want to repeat and I don’t want to do something that mimics Michelangelo. I want to start simple and let the creativity guide me. Sometimes I know it’s clicking! Other times I just have to finish or start all over.

With this particular project, I was trying to go with something that wouldn’t outdo the images. I wanted a look that was basic, but interesting. I was looking through a magazine called Dynamic Graphics and got an idea for a look that included straight lines, circles and basic, thinner style text. I liked the look, but wasn’t sure how to incorporate it. I started with some circles, but thought they looked kind of forced. I ended up with just one straight line and frames panning from right to left in a complete moving motion. Different colors highlight the piece, but the focus is on the images and the text scrolling across the screen.

The song is “clap your hands.” I experimented with some still images of clapping hands, but that looked just plain creepy…free floating hands moving unnaturally…creepy. So I focused on the text and the images. Still, after inserting the images, it just didn’t feel great to me.

I honestly worked on this 1-minute piece for about 30+ hours total. Of course, if you haven’t already noticed, I think it’s good, but I don’t think it’s one for the highlight reel. It did, however, teach me some things. What…I don’t know…but I’m sure I learned something. View the video (3 mb).

The Feel of History

While in Nashville, we went to the original Grand Ole Opry. I walked in, not really knowing what to expect, but was actually moved to emotion as I stepped foot inside this historic landmark. Yeah, I’ll admit it, I grew up with parents who were, ‘closet’ Hee-Haw lovers. (Mom, Dad, if you’re reading this, then just admit it…) I actually liked it myself. We would enjoy it most every Saturday at 6:00 p.m., especially when we went to Mama and Papa’s place. That was my only escape from the small chitchat and conversation, which isn’t really that good as an 8 year old anyway, so I was actually sparing my relatives from meaningless and forgetful conversation.

As I walked in I could just feel it. You know when you sit in a chair that has been recently occupied by someone else? The warmth that you feel is an immediate reminder that someone was there. This is what I felt. Honestly, the echoes of music and laughter and emotion caught up with me and for a brief moment I breathed in deep, like you do when you’re trying not to weep. My breath stammered a bit and I just closed my eyes and tried to see and hear those years of life being lived and sung about from the likes of Patsy Cline, Roy Acuff, Gene Autry, Bob Hope, Minnie Pearl, and yes, John Bon Jovi. I didn’t expect to be hit like that.

I wonder if my life will leave such an impression. I wonder if my church…or my Christian brothers and sisters could inhabit a place with such passion that the very presence of that passion lingers? I wonder. (Hebrews 12:1)

The only way I could remember it was to revert to my tourist tendencies, so Shelly took a picture.

Now, I can say that I have stood where they stood and I’ve seen some of what they’ve seen. I am glad that I could piggyback on the passion of their lives.

Of course, I took a picture of Shelly as well and thought, now that's passion!

The Core

I just got back from a Worship Conference in Nashville called the “Look to the hills conference.” Shelly and I were able to spend Wednesday through Sunday in the Tennessee hills communing with God and with each other. This was vastly different from the Chicago “Willow Arts Conference” that we went to back in June. The conference was about the ways in which we see our people and our church relating to the world. Although I was a bit disappointed with the organizational aspect of the entire week, I was encouraged by some of the content.

My wife has such a good way of seeing and putting things-so discerning. She has a gift. Something I can only hope to one day attain. But she said, some of these topics, the things talked about by Mike Cope, Jeff Walling and some of the other speakers hit right at the ‘core’ of what the message of God is all about. The Incarnation of Jesus - how can we be Jesus to the world? It was so poignant to me. I realized that at times Christians become disgusted with the world and with what our nation has become. We become upset at how TV has gotten so trashy and how films have become so frivolous with morality. I have heard voices of hatred for the world from some Christians…at times I have been that voice.

But, what I’m being reminded of is that Jesus did not hate the world. (John 3:17) He was not shocked by the world’s lack of morality. He Loved The World. And when he approached us he didn’t do it with an attitude of Judgment. He didn’t expect us to meet him where he was. He didn’t have make people see that he was God before he would get to know us. He lived his life in relationship with people. He lived his life respecting people and showing them their value.

That is what it means to be Jesus today. It may mean not caring if someone is Jehovah’s Witness, or Muslim or Hindu…It may mean respecting their past and building relationship with them. It may mean that we love them and not expect them to come to church with us. Being Jesus isn’t getting someone to see God and then moving along to someone or something else. It’s letting them see God through me. My life, my friendship and hospitality. Breaking bread shouldn’t be restricted to Christians. I should be inviting others to break bread with me. That’s what Jesus did. And when we talk about the core of Christianity, we’re talking about Jesus.

There are several “defining” moments in our lives. Moments that we will remember regardless of where we are or what we have become. In my life, when these moments have occurred, I often wish that I would have better memorialized it. I know that in the old testament, whenever God would do something great for his people, they would remember it by doing something simple. They made an altar out of rocks. That’s it. It doesn’t seem that technical, but it was effective. And, back then, the population being what it was, you didn’t have to worry about people coming and developing land and mowing over this precious site.

Today, though, it’s easier to remember. In my office I have a picture of Times Square in New York. The caption reads, “Times Square, 1942.”



I love the picture. An obviously cold and misty night where bundled up people were going to the movies during a time when the world was at war. I like seeing people trying to retain a sense of normalcy in this otherwise chaotic world. It’s a nice reminder of the resilience and determination that people have. Honestly, it’s nice to look at.

But, then I looked a bit more closely.

The movies showing are Battleground and The Third Man. The Musical listed at the top of the picture is Kiss Me Kate. Hmmm…America has just joined the war and already in 1942 they have a movie out about the war? I don’t think so. So, I did some research. Both The Third Man and Battleground debuted in 1949. Kiss me Kate won 5 Tony Awards in 1949. So…the date of this picture is actually - 1949.

Wow. I’ve been duped. Here I have a picture of people I admire doing something I think is very brave and truly ‘American.’ But, this new information changes everything. It’s not a picture of the American spirit battling tyranny and oppression through economic capitalism. It’s just a bunch of people going to the movies in Times Square. (which may really by the true American spirit…entertainment at any cost.)

Defining moments need to be remembered. We need to do something in the moment to remember the moment. If we try to symbolize the moment 30+years later, then we might be remembering something that may make us feel good, but won’t necessarily be the whole truth. Just some thoughts…Oh well…the picture is still nice to look at.

Rita

So, we left Wednesday Morning at around 5:00 a.m. Some people thought we were crazy then, but we didn't care. Of course now, they tell us, wow you were smart. We made it in 3 hourse 45minutes to Dallas. It was early, but nice. However, I feel badly for those friends of mine who were stuck in traffic for over 12 hours.

What makes me mad is that our media has been scaring the living daylights out of our City by choosing the most terrifying words possible to describe the possible effects of this storm. So, in essence, they caused the largest traffic Jam in the history of America.

Oh well, that's what we get for living in a place where things actually happen. I pray that the storm is lenient on whoever it hits. I hope that the community of Houston and America has been strengthened through this event. We'll see. But for now, I sit and wait...

oh...by the way...those of you who have tried to contact me by Cell...It's not worked very well lately. But Shelly, Liv and I are allright. We're in Dallas with the Folks. Hopefully for just a short while.

It's Amazing!

I've been able to meet some really amazing people since Hurricane Katrina hit. It's good to know that when a person gets to a point when they are almost completely self-involved, God intervenes and shows them some things that are possible.

I've been able to meet a man named Ted Ellis www.tellisart.com This man had family in New Orleans and since the hurricane, they've all come his way. 50+ to be exact. Granted, Ted has a nice house and has some space, but 50 people gets a bit overwhelming. But, what I saw in Ted, his wife and children, was an 'unselfishness' that comes directly from God. They've opened their house, their time and their wallet to a family and extended family that just needed a place to be.

It's been my extreme privilege to talk with them, make friends with them, laugh, cry and sing with them. They aren't asking for things, but they need things. They aren't acting angry, even though I know they must feel it occasionally. They are grateful to be alive and with family.

The stories are unbelievable, but necessary to hear. When one family was able to find temporary housing, after sleeping on the highway, at the dome and on the floor of the Ellis's house, they said, God sent you. We had to say...No, I really think God sent you to us. Why? I don't know, but I'm better now. I'm closer to God because of these new friends.

I wish I could have met them under different circumstances. I know that they are dazed and not knowing where to go next. I know that some of them just want to rest and go back to not having to live in a 'survival' mode. I know that they would rather not be here, but unknowingly they have created a community out of a city of 2 million. I know they feel lost and helpless, but to me, I have 50 new heroes. And through them, I've been able to see a little glimpse of God.

It's amazing.

A Prayer For the People

It truly is amazing how many things I take for granted. When I went to Virginia back in 1995 with my uhaul and big ideas, I went with a lot of ignorance. You see, I was going to Virginia when they had been predicting that Hurricane Felix or Humberto…or Tropical Storm Gabrielle…one of those would hit in Virginia Beach. I took it in stride though. Having never realized the magnitude of a hurricane I quietly got out my Masking tape and put two big ‘X’s’ on the windows to keep them from shattering. Yes…masking tape against 139mph winds. That’ll hold. I even went to the market to get some supplies. Rows and Rows of where water and canned goods once stood were, at this point, completely empty. So, scrounged for some large containers of water, some canned beans, chili and chef boyRdee products. I found a flashlight and some batteries and considered myself prepared. I was ready for Mother Nature.

What I didn’t realize back then was just how treacherous nature could be. I was spared that fateful August, because the storm never hit us. So, I was stuck with all these canned goods and masking tape on my windows. I do, however, still have that very same flashlight. I keep it as a reminder of what ignorance will buy me - a cheap plastic flashlight.

Even when in Houston during Tropical Storm Allison, I had no Idea that this constant pouring of Rain would lead to the destruction that it did. Again, ignorant. Now, looking at these poor people, I am struck again by the shear magnitude of the power God unleashed in this world. I wish it wouldn’t have happened and I pray against those things. My heart goes out for those few who were like me - those who didn’t see it coming. I pray that God found mercy and spared them. I pray that He brings this country together for a quick and meaningful restoration. I pray that Christians will act in the face of such blatant opportunity. I pray that I will be compassionate and responsible with my fortune and help those who are stuck, some completely alone, in a strange place with little food and nothing but a cheap plastic flashlight.

It's Still Rock and Roll to Me

I was thinking about my days in 6th through 9th grade. I was really a bit neurotic because of what I was taught about certain things. Rock and roll being one of those ‘hot button’ issues. I was told that Rock music was evil and straight from the devil. (Whether it was the beat or the lyrics I don’t know.) Of course being a ‘younger than the rest of my classmates’ kind of a guy I wasn’t really informed on what ‘rock music’ really was.

One particular day as I was at baseball practice standing in the outfield I’ve got that Darrel Hall and John Oates song “Kiss is on my list” going on in my head. Over and over it played. I tried my best to get it out of my head because of the guilt I was feeling for even thinking of such evil. But as I practiced and the words came out of my mouth, “(Because your kiss) Your kiss I can't resist. Because your kiss is what I miss when I turn out the light,” The Guilt…Oh The Guilt! Besides, Darryl Hall and John Oates…not the coolest group in the world.

I do remember one day as I’m riding with my brother to school. He had a friend with him in the front seat…Mike. He was a no-nonsense kind of a guy who found out about my little ‘Rock-n-Roll’ phobia. We’re sitting in my brother’s 67 mustang listening (not by choice) to that evil musician Billy Joel. Mike turned to me, noticing my disdain and sympathy for the two of them, and said, “You don’t like rock and roll huh? Well…you will!” I just brushed him off thinking, who’s this guy to tell me what I will like? I might as well marry Satan.

But later…he was right. I realized that some things aren’t as evil as I was told. I eventually got into some groups, but didn’t really have a group with which I could associate. You know a lot of my friends had their bands that they would promote. I had nothing. So I decided to start looking. That’s when I discovered The Police. Sting’s really cool band that I didn’t really care for all that much, but I liked being able to sound like I was into a band. So, when people would say, hey, what band you like? I’d respond, The Police. Yeah, they’re awesome. And that was that. Of course Now...I really like Sting...but that's a whole different story.

It’s funny how I feel the need to have something with which to associate. I can’t just be myself. I couldn’t just tell everyone that I really did like Hall and Oates. And that Adult Education was one of my favorite song ever. No…I just told them that I liked the Police…even though the only song I knew them to sing was Roxanne…that was them…right?

Moving forward

So, what exactly does it mean to keep on running? In life I mean. Or Moving forward? You really can't help but move forward. If you're still alive, then there's still movement. This is proven fact. I guess it's a figure of speech-you're not dwelling on the past or something similar.

Why is it so important that we move forward? Why is it that we have to be moving at all? To be honest, sometimes I need a little rest. I push myself really hard to make sure that I have projects and things going on at any given moment so that I can have some sort of reference point for accomplishment. My whole life is an attempt to be like Jesus, and to be honest, he really didn't look as if he was moving forward. ( In the broadest sense of the word.) He kinda looked casual about it all. The only time I really sensed him feeling hardpressed was toward the end, when he was telling his friends about what was going to happen to him and they just weren't getting it...after three years of conversation! I wonder if he thought, "well, I've just gotta keep moving forward." I'm not sure.

I once heard that Sharks don't sleep. They rest, but are constantly on the move. I don't know if it's true, but I also heard that if they stop moving then other sharks may think that they're dead and go after them. I think that is how we have conditioned ourselves. To be constantly on the move forward or otherwise. If you're not then you others pounce in and devour your character or motives or just dismiss you as uninspired.

Lately, I've felt like I've been moving, but am not really sure which way I've been going. Sometimes things look familiar...like I've been here before. But mostly, it's just a blur. I rely on those moments where I am almost forced to sit and rest. Whether it's storytime with Liv or before bed when my wife and I play cards or talk. But you can't have too much of that sitting around...I mean your not going anywhere.

Then I think about it and...well Jesus moved through relationships. That was 'how' he moved. It was through people. He had nowhere else to go...because he specifically came 'here' for us. Basically he spent 3 full years in storytime. He focused on everyone else.

I think the moving forward I do, whether emotionally or professionally - well, it happens during those storytime moments. I guess those times when I'm focusing on someone other than myself, that's when it happens. So...it's home I go...for storytime.

Making My Way

It’s Tuesday. Here I sit, making my way in the world. My schedule is periodically hectic, but lately, it’s been rather slow. I guess it’s nice though, to have some time to get my thoughts together and plan my next life-changing project. It seems that I’m just starting to get my creativity back.

Artists and writers call it different things. I’ve just called it 'the funk I’ve been in.’ It started about a year ago when things seemed to be looking up. I had a relatively new Job. Shelly decided to stay home for a while with our Daughter...and we had a new baby on the way. She was about 13 weeks pregnant. I was writing consistently…journaling, which I don’t do a lot of, but I had just started. Things were going really well when the ‘emotional bottom’ fell out.

Shelly noticed something wasn’t right. After going to the doctor we realized that we had miscarried at 14 weeks. We were stunned. There is a scene that happens in some war movies when a bomb goes off near a soldier. He is thrown some distance, but he’s still alive. Only everything is disoriented. He can’t hear. He can’t see well. He’s obviously hurt, but is still trying to go…somewhere. That’s exactly what I felt like.

They always say that people, suffering from shock, tend to focus heavily on one thing. I stopped by a traffic accident once and the lady, obviously in shock, kept asking me to get the keys out of her car. “Get the keys out of the car! Get the keys out of the car!” I got them and gave them to her and she just sat there, not knowing what else to do.

I guess my ‘thing’ was that I stopped creating. Almost completely. Creativity was the farthest thing from my mind. What kept me going was the fact that through it all one of my best friends would sit and talk with me. He didn’t want anything, except what was best for me. He would just sit, sometimes talk, but mostly listen. It is because of this that our friendship went to a whole new place. That’s one thing that allows me today, to continue to make my way in the world - because my friend decided to be Jesus instead of himself. (Actually, God allowed him to do both.)

For now…the ringing has died down…a little. I think I’ve seen a few positives come out of this. Although, I still think about our child, but know that I’ll never understand why he/she was taken away. I just have to go on making my way, and trusting that God’s going to make the best of it.

Routine

My daughter and I have this ritual before bed. Shelly or I will read her a story. Then we’ll say our bible verses, (she’s memorized three so far) and then we say our prayers. We blow out the light, although lately she’s found it funny to ‘sneeze’ out the light, and then she immediately raises her right arm and says, “Rub my arm please.”

The rubbing of the arm started when she was a child and I would try anything to get her to go to sleep. I started rubbing her face and then arms. That seemed to really calm her down. Now, it’s routine. But, of course, it has evolved into a toddler massage of sorts. First the arm then the other, then the tummy and the back and the feet, to which she always says, “that tickles.” When she’s stalling she’ll start thinking of other things like fingers and eyebrows and neck and ears.

Yes, I sit there and I do it. I really kind of like it. I mean after all, she just wants to be with me. How long will that last? Maybe in her two and a half year old mind she considers me or shelly the only ones who could really help her rest. But, sometimes the tired side of me says, “Ok, this is the last time.”

Last night I was in the middle of the routine when it hits me. How many times do I do this with God? How many times have I put God through the routine? Sometimes it’s positive, but mostly it’s not. How many times have I committed the same offense and said, “God I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be this way. Please forgive me. I promise never to do it again!” Then I’m fine for a while until it happens again. And then I sink into the same routine. It’s maddening really.

Albert Einstein once said, "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

That pretty much says it all. You know George Castanza of Seinfeld fame once decided to do the complete opposite of what his instincts told him to do. When he wanted to lie, he told the truth. When he wanted to order one thing, he ordered another. He was amazed at the results. He was liberated.

I question that. But then again, I question most everything. I didn’t used to. But I’m learning that not everything is as it seems. People aren’t as well intentioned as I once thought. I used to be naive and think that people were thinking more of me than of themselves. That’s hardly ever the case.

So, today, I sit in the midst of routine attempting to break out of the ruts I’ve created in my thought process. It’s insanity trying to become better by oneself. This is why my attempt at reconciliation with God becomes so tedious. Because deep down, somewhere, where I lack a confidant center, I feel that I’ll do it again. And this makes me sad, because alone, I really am powerless to defeat any of this. But while I pray, God remains. Maybe He’s thinking the same thing that I think while rubbing Liv’s earlobes. Maybe He likes the fact that I consider Him the only one that can help me get some rest.

The "C" Word

I just found out that a friend of mine has cancer. I’m not sure of the specifics yet, but I’ve known people with this type and they’ve survived quite well. But the news, for me, was hard to hear. I can’t imagine his thoughts. I know for a moment, he must have really felt alone. Hopefully not.

I was just reading in a book called, “Blue Like Jazz” and in it he talks about a speaker who discussed metaphors for Cancer. He asked the audience and they kept coming back with war metaphors. You know, they're fighting cancer…battle with cancer…etc. He said that many people consider the “C” word as something to fight. Because of this thought process, many people give up initially because they don’t want to have to go through something like that. They don’t want to fight. He went on to discuss how somewhere around 90% of people who have cancer are surviving. The cancer is either manageable or curable. He says that many people survive because they choose to look at cancer differently.

I thought this was encouraging, but didn’t think about it when I found out about my friend. I went right to the negative and then started looking at myself. My High School friend LeighAnn wrote in her blog ‘Cancer Chupa.’ Chupa is Spanish for ‘sucks.’ Sometimes there’s just no other way to say it.

I pray for my friend. I know that he is not alone. But I know that he may feel that way. At one time or another, we all do.

Computers...blogging...this is truly an orwellian fantasy we've gotten ourselves into. 1984 is now. Of course that summated that we've got to be careful when big brother is watching. What we're doing now is asking big brother to watch us. We're gladly opening up our lives and thoughts to the world. We're becoming vulnerable because we want people to know us. We want to be known. Funny how in this world of constant connectedness, we are becoming increasingly disconnected with the souls of people.

Every Sunday as I walk the halls of our church asking people, how are you...the answer is rarely a deep one. Maybe that's because I give off an air of not really caring to begin with. That makes me sad. Because I know what it's like when people don't care about you. In the movie 1984, society got to the point where nothing was intimate anymore. The society had become somewhat sterile and controlled. (sounds like many of our churches today.) People were together, but they were alone.

It never ceases to amaze me how people cope with pain. Hidden pain. They sometimes don't talk about it because they think that it's a burden to other people. Can you believe that, they don't want to burden us? They're the ones in pain and tragedy. What is it to us to listen? Maybe that means we'll have to do something. And frankly, someone telling me about their cancer or the problems with a friend or the massacres going on in the Sudan or the problems with war...I don't really want to have to listen to that...I feel pushed to take action. And honestly, that's encroaching on my personal space. Besides, I have other things to think about you know? Reruns of The Apprentice are on and I forgot to set the TIVO.

But we all deal with it. We all have pain, addictions, anxiety and fear. And sadly enough, most of us hold it in. What would happen if we had a unanimous data dump? What if we all found someone we cared about and told them everything? Hmmm. I wonder how that would turn out? I know God's there to take it and Listen. King David Did it in the Psalms. and Psalm 88 isn't a nice little talk about how nice life is. It's pretty depressing. But, then so was 1984...the movie I mean, not the year...I liked the year 1984, but the movie...well, I'd rather ask someone how their doing.

Living In The Past

Last night, for some reason, became an evening of memories. As I sit in my mini driving with my wife and daughter, something triggers a past memory and we begin talking about college and a bit after. (Oh, by the way, by ‘mini’ I mean ‘mini-van.’ Sorry if I pretended to be cooler that I actually am. It does have a personalized license plate if that makes any difference.)

So we’re telling each other some things that we haven’t talked about in years and wondering if the choices we made were wise or not. Moments we would have changed - You know, asking what we would do differently if we had the choice. I talked about past girlfriends and the fact that my choice of majoring in theatre and minoring in music may not have been the most lucrative career path. I said, you know, if I had to do it differently I would have…and I would have been…you know how the story goes. We all do it. Maybe it’s a form of regret, maybe it’s just a way to make yourself feel better that you could have made a better choice. For some people, I’m sure that they would go back in a second.

But as I drove with my wife and my two and a half year old, I began to realize that everything I love and hold dearly has been an outcome of those decisions. Those horribly selfish, but sometimes good decisions have placed me where I am today. I’m not convinced that it’s all worked out like it was supposed to have, but what does that mean anyway? Who knows how things were supposed to have worked out? All I know is that I was lucky enough to land a ‘red-headed’ wife who, for some reason, loves the fire out of me. And because of that love, I have a little girl who thinks I am the greatest man on the planet. How could I want that to change? Just so that I could have majored in business and maybe have a few more bucks right now? No…I think I’ll trust that God, my God has created this place for me to be. I realize that my decisions are who I am. Good and bad. And I kind of like to think that God’s been fixing this life as I go through messing it all up. I’m sure he’s tired by now… “Scott, just make a good decision…just one…please…I’m tired here.”

You know, His choices determine where He is too. He could have chosen not to love me anymore. But that wouldn’t have been true to who he was either. So…I guess that I’ll live in the today…not the yesterdays…and hope to come to a place where the past doesn’t haunt me…it teaches me.
By the way…my daughter loves the mini. So, I guess that was a good decision.

What I do...One More...

This is becoming a life story. Once more and then I'll begin to get to the point.

I walked away. Sort of. I tried to do something spectacular. I tried to take a strong step of faith that would have landed me on the cover of Christian inspirational books worldwide. What did I do? Go to Haiti? No. Go to Russia? No. Did I become a native American monk? No. I went to Virginia. And not even because I was following God's call. I went for Film school and for a girl.

I arrived stepped out of my truck and took a deep breath. "New Life," I thought to myself. "Ok God. I'm here. Let the blessings commence!"

(silence)

"Um...Hello?"

So, there I was. In Virginia. It felt a lot like Texas. Same air, same grass, same trees...and the same me. Only now I was alone. So to make a long story short...I couldn't really pay for Film school so I dropped out. I couldn't really handle the girl so I dropped her. I couldn't really handle myself, so I just...dropped. I ended up selling cars for the next 5 months.

I had quite a bit of time to examine the pathways I had chosen. Then God gave me a little help...through phone calls with a sensitive red-head who would end up becoming my wife. I learned a lot in that time. One thing specifically was that I needed to serve. My calling was service to God. How I wasn't sure. But, all my training and experience led me to this. Recently, my wife and I were talking and we both realized how we had kind of 'Gumped' our way through the last 8 years. You know, Not really knowing where we were going, but responding to each new turn with a sort of ignorant audacity. No matter what was thrown at us, we just kept on running...together. That's where the Children of God seem to fair best. Together.

So, it's been a while, but I've finally discovered that my experience has become my biggest reference point. God has me here, attempting to communicate his truth and love to a world who isn't really wanting to hear it. (They want to, they just don't know it yet...at least that's I feel now...it could change. ) Using creativity to turn these truths into bite-size theology. Images and situations in which most everyone can relate. I feel honored that Jesus has allowed me to do the thing that he practiced when speaking. Stories...helping people imagine without them realizing it. Honestly, I'm sure I'm still Gumping through it. Of course now, I realize I'm Gump. It's a nice feeling. So for now we'll just keep running... Until we stop.

What I Do...Continued

What I do. Professionally, it's been a long road. I guess "professionally" didn't really begin until a few years ago. Before then I basked in the world of the irresponsible - tossing unopened bills to the side and ordering cheap luggage from 2nd rate mail order catalogs. I would walk about as if the 300.00 I just earned for 1 day's work was worth a bit of admiration.

In those days having just finished college, I selected an almost perfect job path. Comedian. Finally I could remain that feelgood, carefree man-boy who really wasn't ready to leave college in the first place. I could associate with younger more vibrant people and...At times...Make them laugh. Guys would envy - girls would dream and I would get paid. All for talking in a French accent or pretending to be funny. It was great! Until I started realizing that the 300.00 I was getting was in fact, hush money. Money meant to keep me eternally irresponsible and naive.

Even then, when I knew that I was enabling my own de-construction, it took me a while to break away and into the world of the living. Now, for others, who are solidly responsible comedians (if there is such a thing) I know this will not be true, as they are solid and...well...responsible - fully integrated adults in a world for the perpetually young. But for me, I was buried under a mound of inaction. All the while hoping I would one day stumble or happen upon that thing or idea or world view that would make me spiritually rich. As it was, all I had to show for my life's work was a bucket of half truths mixed with tradition and religion...oh, and a kickin French accent. Yet, there was something missing - Me. I had become the jokes I was telling. So, I finally stood up and walked away. Sort of...

What I Do

It's interesting to see and hear people's reactions to what it is I do. I guess the title alone needs a bit of explaining. In a way, it does sounds kind of flaky anytime you have the words creative and arts in the same sentence. Creative can really mean most anything. "He's a creative accountant." "He's an administrative arts minister." When you use the word creative, you throw out most absolutes. College for a creative type...we aren't right or wrong. It all depends on how we 'feel' about our answer. That's the key.

Yeah...maybe I need to rethink it. However, there is a certain striking nature to the sound of it. Especially in ministry. But honestly, the bottom line is that titles are always a bit more glamourous than the actual nature of the work. The nature of my work is communicating with people. That's pretty much it. Hmmmm. To put it like that...It doesn't really sound that glamorous.

Regardless, what I do isn't that different from what anyone else does. I just get to do it with high tech equipment and cool music...sometimes.

more later...

Welcome

Well...here it is - My first ever blog. I have hesitated in doing this due to the fact that I've got a lot to say and not really enough time in my day to say it. I just assumed that I'd be yet another voice in a cacophony of sound...yet for some reason I'm just nieve enough to think that someone may care.

It doesn't really matter who reads this. I'll just talk and if you care to listen or respond then...fantastic.

I'll try to update this every other day for now and then after a few weeks we'll see. I'm still processing my past weekend. A lot of encouragement and affirmation from fellow ministers and their wives. I understand how important affirmation is. I take that as meaning that affirmation is just as important for the ones you feel you should be receiving the encouragement 'from.'

So...my mission this week is to affirm, encourage and pray for those I feel should be dishing it out. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's not. Who knows...better to do it and learn than to not do anything and...well...not learn. Peace and blessings and Encouragement to you.

Scott