On Becoming Truer

New Blog Location

2010-02-11T10:09:00.001-08:00

We have decided to make a change from Blogger to a Wordpress blog. My blog will now be found at http://www.brianmashburn.net. My old blog at brianmashburn.blogspot.com will no longer be updated.

Everyone on the e-mail list WILL continue to receive an e-mail when a new post is made. However, we will no longer be sending out the entire post via e-mail. Subscribing and unsubscribing to this list is done in the sidebar of the blog.

Let me know if any of you are not cool with this change so that I can laugh at how 90s you are.

The Restoration of Discipleship

2010-02-05T15:43:00.001-08:00

“It is enough for a student to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master.” – Jesus Christ

Months ago, when I started this post before storing it away in my drafts, I had received a catalog in the mail from the bookstore of a Christian college associated with the Church of Christ. I opened it looking to see if they offered a Greek language study workbook that they used to carry years ago. My heart both flared up defensively and started weeping with compassion as I read titles of books that, instead of fixing people's eyes on Jesus, were fixing people's eyes on the historical and contemporary church. I wish I still had it now to list more, but one of the titles I remember was called What about Instrumental Music in Worship?

Shew. I’m getting to the point where I don’t have the energy to answer that question any more. I want to just respond, “What about it?” My friend who is strung out on prescription drugs and checked into rehab isn’t going to be healed by how he worships on Sunday. My son who is getting baptized this weekend (!!!) isn’t going to be saved because he believes one way or the other about that issue. My buddy trapped in a life of aggression and anger because he was hurt as a kid by a villainous adult and made the agreement that he “will never be weak again!” WILL NOT BE HEALED BY READING THAT BOOK AND TAKING IT’S MESSAGE TO HEART.

Ya feel me?

There is such a huge difference between a religion that seeks to help people imitate Jesus Christ in heart, character, priorities and mission and a religion that seeks to imitate the historical church's external worship practices, belief systems, gathering habits, life philosophies and superficial doctrines.

Now, before I go on, I'm not outright condemning the focus on church. After all, the church is the bride of Christ. The church is the group of people on planet earth that Christ indwells to continue his presentation of himself to the world today in the flesh. The bride's worship practices matter, her belief systems are important, and her philosophies and doctrines make a huge difference in how they live life, what message they carry to the world, and whether or not they are continuing to represent God on earth in the way that Jesus did.

But...and this is a very big but...the focus on the church as a pattern for how we are to "do church", rather than a focus on Christ as a pattern for how we "do life", is a focus riddled with danger. Life-stealing, legalism-producing, religion-focused, anger-inciting, divisive danger that distracts people from the only Source of salvation of any kind. I have seen (in myself as much as in others, mind you) as much un-Christlikeness come from the (well-intentioned) focus on the church as I have from any other misguided focus on the planet.

Based on this off-the-mark focus…

I’ve seen people try to convert people to certain worship practices rather than to Christ (ex: I argued with my Baptist school-mate Ron in high school about our different views on baptism, and we both did so quite zealously, right in front of non-Christian Cheryl, who sat behind us, silently making her decisions concerning what Christianity must be all about based on us.)
I’ve seen people leave (and recruit other people to leave) churches because of doctrinal issues that had nothing to do with becoming more like Christ (ex: I know a guy who left his ministry position in a church because he disagreed with one of the members who was a Bible class teacher and didn't hold his view on the 2nd coming of Christ).
I’ve seen groups of Christ followers completely part ways, sometimes into more than 2 groups (!), over a philosophical difference (ex: a whole church I know split right down the middle, one group investing in and maintaining a whole other campus, simply because one group wanted to financially support a Children's Home).
I’ve seen people outright condemn to hell God-honest, love-motivated people who exhibit every one of the fruits of the Spirit (Gal 5) because they didn't see their way about the practices of church (ex: I have a copy of a book called "the Smith-Hunt debate" where, in the forward, it is acknowledged that "our definite agreement on the essentials of the gospel and New Testament Christianity were wonderfully noted." However, in the same forward, it was acknowledged that the issue being debated (instrumental music) was considered by some as a "test for fellowship". What??? How can the essentials of the gospel be agreed upon, but the difference of opinion on this doctrine was a test for whether we are saved by that gospel message or not?)
I’ve seen people use the word "Biblical" in ways that would astound the Bible's writers, making them look at each other amazed at the distance people can go in missing the point. (ex: "It's not Biblical to have a choir sing in church." - This means that there is no command or example of a choir being used by any church in the Bible, so to use it is "unbiblical" and therefore "sinful", and therefore, if you do it, you are going to hell when you die).

I could go on and on.

The Christian movement I have come out of (which I deeply love and appreciate, by the way, despite what this piece may seem to reflect) is called the "Restoration Movement".

It has as it's premise the idea of Christian unity based on the restoration of the New Testament church in our day. This sounds at first to be a noble call. It sends you to the Bible, to be sure, but it sends you there looking for the church. You'll look for it's practices, it's beliefs, and it's actions. You'll then start building your own church's practices, beliefs, and actions based on that. As the theory goes, if all churches did this, our differences would be solved, all because we practice the same religious practices found listed in the Bible. Unity accomplished.

Some problems I have with this:

When you go to the Bible looking for the church, you often skip over the verses that speak of Christ, the bringer of unity (& life).
When you go to the Bible looking for a list of verses that contain how you should do your worship services on Sunday mornings, you will find them…and use them as such…even when they were not intended for that.
As I’ve already illustrated, I have never seen anyone’s life miraculously transformed from their conversion to a certain set of worship practices performed at their churches on Sunday morning.
When you go to the Bible looking for the 1st century church, your spiritual conversations tend to be about the 1st century church, and the people I have met that need saving from anything don’t care about those conversations.
Our movement has tried it. And it has resulted not in unity, but incredible division to the point of embarrassment. It is just too easy to interpret scriptures differently. One catalogue that attempts to list all the Churches of Christ in the U.S. has codes next to each one to distinguish what “kind” of church it is (OC = “one cuppers” = this church believes you must take communion out of one cup, not multiple ones; NC = “Non-class” = this church believes it is wrong to add a time for Bible classes to the worship gathering on Sunday mornings) Like I said…embarrassing.

And my biggest problem is that this entire premise (re: going to the Bible to restore the New Testament church) is not called for anywhere in the whole Bible. The consistent call of the Bible, as far as I can tell, has as it's premise for Christian unity the followership and imitation of the person of Jesus Christ.

This is what discipleship is.

A disciple is a person who attaches themselves to a teacher, and makes it their aim to become "like" that teacher. It involves learning what he teaches, prioritizing what he prioritizes, living as he lives, embodying the character that he embodies. It is a lifelong transformation of the whole person, the heart, conforming it into the image of the teacher's heart.

And my teacher, who I quoted at the top of this piece, says that that is enough.

In my opinion, our movement could borrow on it's strengths and address it's increasingly problematic error, with an ever-so-slight, but revolutionary adjustment, changing from the restoration of the New Testament church to "the restoration of discipleship". Stop trying to imitate 1st century churches, start trying to imitate Jesus. Stop going to the Bible to find worship practices for Sunday, start going to the Bible looking to become like Christ. Jesus said that’s what scripture is for (Jn 5:39-40).

The point is Christ. The point of everything in the Bible is Jesus Christ. Not the first century church. Christ. Jesus said, "Go and make disciples." Not "Go and build up churches that look like the 1st century church." Even Paul, who's writings we lean on heavily in order to extract any clues we may find in scripture concerning the practices of the 1st century church, said, "Imitate me, as I imitate Christ".

Here's the deal, and I challenge anyone to make a case to the contrary... Focusing on following the church (1st century or otherwise) does not always lead you to Christ...it may lead you to a church and it's ways, but not necessarily Christ and his. However, a focus on following Christ always leads you to Christ and his ways, and by being led there, makes you a part of the church that the Father intends.

As I was finishing this up, I got this piece from Edward Fudge. And he’s a whole lot smarter (and more concise) that me, so you might enjoy several of his pieces related to this topic here.

Finally, I have an old post that still rings true in my heart.

I’m glad to say that, while I still talk about this for others in my circle who are learning the difference between following a person or a plan, Jesus Christ or some set of rules regarding church worship practices, I feel that I now have my eyes firmly fixed on Christ alone… for life to the full, for the way I am to live, for forgiveness of my sins, for the truth about everything, for how to view my fellow man, and for anything and everything else that matters.

As Jesus says, if I, his disciple, strive to become like him, my teacher…that’s enough.

The Precious Worship Service

2010-02-02T14:59:00.001-08:00

“It is quite amazing how strongly a person can feel about the external things that make up the schedule of events presented at a large group meeting of Christians during one hour on Sunday.” – Yours Truly

“The perfect worship service would be one we were almost unaware of. Our attention would have been on God.” – C.S. Lewis

One time, I saw a video played at a church service about a couple who had weathered some very tough situations in their marriage, and let me tell you, by the end of it, my jaw was on the ground at how their impossible situation seemed to be miraculously turned around by God. Everyone was talking about it after the worship service, but not everyone was talking about where they saw God in it. I overheard one lady, with scowled face, pursed lips, and frowning eyebrows complaining to an elder that she “didn’t appreciate the music” track that was gently playing behind the couple as they shared on the video.

Another time, I was at a worship service where this sweet lady who had undergone a very difficult time medically went up to the preacher and asked if she could express her thanks to the church family for all the special help and support. I was undone emotionally by her sincere gratitude as she rattled off just a few of the names and actions that so many had selflessly given. Everyone was noting how they saw Christ in her and in those she spoke about. Except for the people in one email chain, who were only noting (in an appalled way) that a woman spoke into a microphone during the worship service.

Another time, I remember being taken in by the songs being sung. It was so cool how each song’s message led seamlessly to the next. When I was waiting in line to tell the guy responsible how I noticed the presence of God in what he put together for us, I was behind a couple who was lodging a disgruntled complaint about the absence of certain songs that they would have rather sung.

In another worship service, I got to share a teaching of Christ about the forgiving nature of God and the guilt-free living available because of it. I handed out index cards and pencils, and invited the group to privately write down things they still live in guilt about. I ended the teaching by inviting them to get up and throw what they wrote down away in trash cans that I had put around the room as a symbol of what they are free to do with their guilt, according to Jesus. This seemed to merit me about a half-dozen emails from Christ-followers who were there, making the case that I shouldn’t have done it, with statements ranging from “because it makes people uncomfortable” to “we just don’t do that here” to “because it’s wrong.” (!)

Twice, and in two different churches, and on several different occasions, the idea of taking the Lord’s Supper in some other way than passing trays down each isle for everyone to partake privately was suggested, and it was knocked out on the basis of how the Christians who go there might react emotionally to “such a change”. Shew! I thought we Christians placed our belief on doing things by the Bible alone. Yet evidently, some Christians will react emotionally as if not using trays and pews would be unbiblical. Better not suggest the idea of taking it in our small groups at home (Acts 2:46). Or participating in it on a day other than Sunday (1 Cor 11:23-25).

What is it about the precious worship service that heightens some Christian’s sensitivity about what gets to happen within it?

One person who I know full well has TV’s in their home and use computers at their work got upset when his church put a screen and PowerPoint projector in the room to use during the precious worship service.

Another person who I know sang in choruses at school all of their life had issues when her church let a choir sing during their precious worship service.

Yet another person I know got upset when a preacher spoke too long. And another got upset when a preacher didn’t speak long enough.

One girl I know who would totally bust a move at the school dances to all of our favorite songs in the 80s was totally offended when someone in the worship service raised their hands in the air as we sang “These humble hands, I lift to You”.

What gives? Seriously.

The more I engage with human beings who have experienced these strong feelings about these external relatively small variations between different church services, I find myself having trouble explaining the justification for them (the strong feelings, that is).

I have trouble:

Explaining these strong feelings about the precious worship service to non-Christians.
Explaining these strong feelings to burned-out-on-church Christians.
Trying to justify these convictions as necessary to accomplish the fruit of transformation that Jesus is after in people’s hearts.

I’ve read the Bible through several times. I’ve read Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John the most (since they contain the story of Jesus while he was here). All this reading doesn’t make me any kind of authority on answering this question academically, but I am somewhat familiar with the life and teachings of Jesus.

It seems to me that he thinks that everything…everything…should be done out of sincere love for God and love for other people (Mt 22: 40). Additionally, it seems to me that he thinks that everything…everything…is useful or not by it’s potential to help people live the life that he came to give us, which he claimed to be the fullest, most abundant life possible (Jn 10:10).

So…it seems to me that everything…everything…in the precious worship service should be judged by the same. And that’s all.

The only time I can find where Jesus speaks directly about a worship service was when he was saying that the outward, superficial details didn’t matter. That what mattered to God was the “kind” of worshipper a person was. The “kind” that adhered, not to outward expressions of religious practices during a one-hour event on Sunday, but to an inward sincerity that dwells within the confines of “spirit and truth”.

What does he mean by “spirit and truth", you might ask.

Well, I think it means to worship in line with Christ’s heart, character, mission and priorities. So anything…anything…at a worship service that exalts love for God and love for people, no matter how it is outwardly and superficially presented, is just fine with me.

There is an interesting article here about some of the big issues in the Church of Christ, if you are interested. It starts out with one big issue in the precious worship service, but then expands towards the end and offers a perspective that could be used to discern all potential issues.

My advice to all Christians: Seek first Christ in everything that is presented to you within any worship service you attend. Work hard at this seeking, and you will find him. And your reward in the precious worship service will be great…Christ himself.

My warning to all Christians: Seek first what you consider wrong or uncomfortable in everything that is presented to you within any worship service you attend, and you will find it. Then you will work hard at being angry, disturbed, or disgruntled. And the reward in the precious worship service will be missed…Christ himself.

Progressing from listening to talking to doing to being

2010-01-26T14:39:00.001-08:00

"To love - simply and truly - is so startling it leaves little time for anything else." -- Emily Dickinson

"Whenever asked about what should be done about another person, no matter what the situation, the answer is always… 'love them.' Specific applications of love apply in different circumstances (accept them, challenge them, walk with them, confront them, forgive them, tell them, etc.), but it never ceases to amaze me how often people think there is something else to do or try." - Yours truly

I fancy myself a “progressive”.

You have to label labels, I guess, when you use them. They mean so many things to so many people.

So by progressive, I mean that I want to always “make progress” in becoming a better and better human being.

Because I have had to move from being a human listening, to a human talking, to a human doing, to finally (and it is a work in progress) a human being.

I have a buddy who has smoked tobacco abundantly. He’s on his twelfth week of not smoking, and only last week threw away his last pack of cigarettes that he carried with him constantly, just in case he didn’t really want to be a non-smoker.

Before he became a non-smoker, he had to listen to the idea of it. This is no small step. Smokers don’t want to listen to the idea of not being a smoker. But he did. And it was hard. He was really confronted at this phase of progression. And even if he wanted to stop listening, he had no choice as he sat by his dad’s bedside caring for him (he’s a paramedic) daily (and nightly) as he died of lung cancer from smoking.

He then progressed to talking. It’s one thing to be willing to listen to the case for not smoking, and quite another to start speaking the case for non-smoking. I got to hear him as he progressed to this talking phase over lunch one day. It was quite amazing to hear him, especially when I considered how hard it was for him to listen to himself and consider the implications of his talking. I asked him if I could video tape him and capture the power of his talk. He reluctantly, but eagerly, but reluctantly agreed. I played it to a few hundred of our mutual friends. He was firmly established in the talking phase.

And the reason he was willing to talk was because he wanted to be seriously intent on progressing to the doing stage. He’ll tell you now, that he began the doing of not smoking with zero belief that he would succeed. Inwardly, he had already decided that he would give it try knowing he would fail just to be able to say to those that loved him that he had had done his talking to (his family, chief among them) that he had tried.

Little did he know, that it would take. Every time I see him now, he smiles and tells me how long it’s been. He is progressing from “doing” now to “being”. He now believes that he can BE a non-smoker.

It seems to me that this is a great example of what being progressive truly means.

To progress. To actually, and really, and painstakingly…make progress.

And in no other area is it more important to progress than in the area of love.

We must listen to new ideas of what it means to love.

We must start talking those ideas, owning it enough to speak about it.

We must start doing those ideas, loving in those new-to-us ways.

Eventually, glory of glory happens…and we become love.

Really…when I’m progressing in love. I don’t have time to smoke. Or to do anything else. And I’m having trouble finding anything else as worthwhile to do.

God help me.

A Question I am Ashamed to Answer

2010-01-15T12:08:00.001-08:00

About 10 months ago, I received an email that I quickly deleted. It had a strange foreign name attached to it, some generic sounding title, so it didn’t make it through my “maybe that’s not junk mail” filter when I did a quick scan of my Inbox.

As it turns out, that deleted, unread email came from a desperate man in India, asking me to personally mentor him as a student of Christ, a minister at a church, and a world changer.

I only know this because, fortunately, he sent a second email. In it he was pleading, “Dear brother, please do not hesitate to write me, please encourage me in the truth. Please help and guide and explain what ever I asks questions. I have some questions to ask. Please give me permission to ask more.”

I replied to him, and it began a wonderful dialogue that I have thoroughly enjoyed and learned from. He found me in a somewhat random way (yeah, right) through a search engine that led him to the website of the Southwest Church in Amarillo, TX… the group with whom I seek the best possible life.

As he said, he had many questions, and was looking for someone to ask. Among them:

What is Non-Institutional institution?
What is conservative?
What is liberal?
What is mainstream?
What is one cup churches and non class Churches? (He saw these words in the recent issues of Christian Chronicle news paper.)
We train few youths as preachers, is it wrong or non-Biblical?
Can I have your sermons and lessons in printed form for use in our daily ministries?

From here, he started sending me some of his curriculum and lessons. I began to notice that his good work had within it a heavy focus on teaching “how to do church right” and not so much on “how to love and live like Jesus Christ” (You can search my blog archives at www.brianmashburn.net if you are interested in why this stood out to me), and our dialogue included discussions about this. Perhaps one of the greatest treasures I have from G. David as a result of our dialogue is this one:

“Our God is helping us through you to change this bias towards to imitate Christ and better preachers and ministers of Christ, more like Jesus and more focus on Jesus. I thank you very much for your excellent guidance in Christ Jesus our Lord, you are in my heart, because you have changed it to focus on Jesus and Jesus only.”

Let me pause here and tell you…if it is true that I can play any role whatsoever in helping anyone (particularly leaders of others) to focus on “Jesus and Jesus only”…that is enough for me and an answer to countless prayers of mine.

So…praise God. His questions then moved into this realm…

How to come to the image of His son? - Rom 8:29.
How to attain the fullness and stature of Christ? - Eph 4:11-13.
How to walk and what are the foot steps of Christ? - I Peter 2:21.
How to walk as He walked? - I John 2:6.

What an impossible joy it has been to wrestle with these magnificent questions.

I respect this man so much. He and his family minister with limited provision, and with zealous faithfulness. He has invited me over for a visit to teach and encourage. I hope to someday go, because I know that it is I who would be taught and most definitely encouraged (His little boy looks like he’d be my favorite!)

I’ve gotten to “be with” him as he traveled, while injured sometimes, thousands of miles to take advantage of an opportunity to teach people about Christ in less than ideal circumstances…

As one of his questions indicates, and on top of all of his daily demands, he had collected an assortment of eager young men and started a preacher training school! Here are his students…

I even got to “witness” him slave away, beg, plead, and organize relief for the people of his church and city when the horrible flooding of India last year hit Chennai hard…

I was always eager and ready to continue our mutual learning from each other’s lives and ministries. I always looked forward to his questions, and speedily replied to the best of my ability, until he asked a question that stopped me in my tracks.

He asked, “How much does your church provide for you per month as the preacher?”

I froze in front of my computer screen.

I didn’t want to tell him.

It’s not that I think I’m a bad steward of the financial resources given to me.

It’s not a self-esteem thing, that I don’t think I’m “worth” what I’m paid (been there, done that).

Nor is it that I take some kind of pride in how much I’m given, as if that is some sort of measurement of my worth.

And it is certainly not that I’m ungrateful.

What was it? Why was I ashamed?

I am provided more money than I ever dreamed I would be when I decided to go into ministry. But that doesn’t seem like it should be enough to make me feel ashamed.

I’m not making more than might be expected for people who have a comparable position that I have (in the U.S., that is) according to a survey taken by ACU), but that’s not enough to keep me from feeling ashamed.

Help me out here…

And as a bonus…why does it seem like I’m breaking some kind of rule just be bringing this subject up?

How to Approach God

2010-01-14T07:44:00.001-08:00

I remember one hot summer day in Houston, TX being at Astroworld (Houston's Six Flags theme park, now closed down) with a large group of students from the West side of town. I was the youth minister at a church, and we were taking our annual trip to enjoy the rollor coasters, shows, and each other's company. It was a blast, just like every year. But I remember this particular day because I got into a very cool spiritual conversation with a student as we took a break from the lines and heat. Somehow we got to talking about mentors, fathers, and big-brother-types. You know, people “ahead of us” who would take a special interest in us. People who would choose us as someone they would resolve to pursue and be available to in order to bestow their wisdom, life, and ways.

Sounds beautiful, huh?

But it stirred an overwhelming feeling of being quite alone and mentor-less. I’m humbled and proud to mention that this student was honoring me in our conversation as one of these mentors, spiritual father figures, and big brother types...and I was surprised at the depths that were touched in me, moved to tears actually (yes, right there in the shade of a tree at Astroworld), as I wished I could identify someone loving, coaching, teaching, and pursuing me as I was doing for this student.

Looking back on my life, I think one of the several unspoken, secret, tsunami-like motivations that invisibly moved me into my calling of loving people – which eventually moved into into a position of mentoring and fathering people – was this very deep desire to have someone do this for me. Wow. As I write this, the words of Jesus, “do unto others as you would have others do unto you” comes to mind. I think that’s what I was unknowingly doing. I wanted some fathering in the innermost places of my heart, and I showed it by making a life of giving that to others.

“Our greatness comes from our woundedness,” someone once memorably said.

Over my adult life, I have approached several folks who I perceived as “ahead of me” in the life that I am constantly moving and growing into, and have asked them overtly to mentor, coach, be available to, and benefit me with their wisdom and experience...to love me, really. To big-brother and father me.

Now, I know this is a huge request. To ask this of someone should not be done lightly. And although you may get one, you sure should not expect a quick, un-thought over, un-prayed over affirmative answer. If the person you are asking understands what you are truly asking, and they are worthy of being asked, they will not say yes lightly (so they may not be able to say yes quickly).

However, as I became aware of this desire in my life, it was amazing how few people there are who I felt like I could ask this of. Those who:

have become “masters” of spiritual things with humble confidence

have room in their life for any deep relationships
valued the passing on of their own life discoveries and wisdom
had a clue how to go about mentoring even if they desired to

Out of those that did, and I can think of two that I asked, one reluctantly felt that he had to say no because he lived across the country and the demand on his life for this kind of relationship had already consumed his time (another witness to how few there are, and how hungry people are for it). The other didn’t have the heart to say no (and bless his heart, he caught me in another deeply emotional moment, so I know I made it hard for him), but never could realistically follow through because of the demands on his life as well.

While it sounds like I should be writing an email entitled, “The Mentorless Generation” (that would actually be a good one), I’m connecting to all of this because out of all the ways that I have approached God, the one that has allowed my heart to experience the most healing, the most guidance, the most meaningful information, the most illumination, the most life, the most passion and love…ultimately, the most oneness with God… has been when I have approached him as a father, a mentor.

As it turns out, I think it is His favorite way that I have approached Him, as well.

And as it turns out, Jesus revealed the Father as wanting to do just that.

When he taught us to pray, he went against all the religiosity of the day and the misunderstanding of the word “reverence” and told us to address God as, you guessed it, “our Father”. (Mt 6:9)

When he decided to implement a world-changing plan among mankind, his primary strategy wasn’t to preach to big crowds, post blogs, write books, gather Facebook friends, Twitter, or organize a centralized headquarters out of which he would do all these things. No, he incarnated himself into the rabbinical system of the day, invited 12 people to join him intimately in his life in order to, you guessed it, relationally “mentor” them. (Mk 3:14)

John Eldredge says, “God wants to father us. The truth is, he has been fathering us for a long time—we just haven’t had the eyes to see it. He wants to father us much more intimately, but we have to be in a posture to receive it.”

That’s what I want. It took some time, but buried underneath a bunch of false spirituality, high-church thinking, stiff-necked theology, and incomplete and unbalanced views of God, I found a tender desire that responded with a nuclear fission explosion of hopeful excitement when I heard God say, "I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters." (2 Cor 6:18)

I suppose there are lots of ways to answer the question, “How to approach God?”

But lesson number one, the one that I believe must be found and practiced in order to address anything else with any kind of accuracy and humanity, is to approach God as a father.

Unfinished Posts…

2010-01-08T19:27:00.001-08:00

“The unspoken idea has no chance of blessing anyone other than the one to whom had it.” – Your Truly

I haven’t written as much this year as I have in years past. A combination of business, laziness, higher priorities, and un-cohesive and/or incomplete thoughts.

But I have a bunch of unfinished posts in my “drafts” file. So I thought I’d do an experiment with them that I haven’t done before.

I’ve posted the titles to them below. If any of them pique your interest, cast a vote by replying to this email (or posting a comment on this blog if don’t get my email), and perhaps your interest will help me with some additional motivation.

“A question I am ashamed to answer”

“You can be this good.”

“Altogether superior.”

“The restoration of discipleship.”

“Two haunting questions.”

“A sacred weekend.”

“What I would do if I came to your church.” (a series)

“How to approach God.”

“Saving people from their sins.”

“Who stole my church?”

“Re-centering.”

“Small group intimacy.”

“On speaking engagements.”

“The sinner that Jesus condemned.”

“Freezing up and asking the world to wait.”

“When the blessing of the job becomes the curse of it.”

“Not all available parts of the spiritual life are easy to attain.”

“Clash of the (value system) Titans.”

“Gay.”

“Unity isn’t unity if there is no mission.”

“The precious worship service.”

“My love-hate relationship with structure.”

“Progressing from listening to talking to doing to being.”

“Brian’s next job description.”

Wow…there are so many. I didn’t even realize. Unfortunately, these unfinished thoughts are a sort of mirror to my life.

I’m completely open to the idea that none of these may interest anyone. I try to imagine that perhaps some of the ideas, thoughts, rants, and revelations that occasionally consume me may be of some use to others. But, as the words that automatically go out at the end of every email suggests, I write these pieces in my effort to “keep it real” and think out loud…as one of the tools that I use to stay in my heart…and to do so relationally.

Let me know, friends. I love you.

The Standard of Judgment

2009-12-10T14:57:00.001-08:00

“Your attitude should be the same as that of Jesus Christ.” – Philippians 2:5

“Anyone who claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did.” – 1 John 2:6

If someone says they are a Christian, you get to judge them inside and out.

Inwardly, they should have the attitude of Jesus.

Outwardly, they should have the “walk” of Jesus.

These are the inner and outer standards upon which all of us who call ourselves Christians measure ourselves. (Not in order to get eternal security, by the way, which is a free gift of love from God, but as the evidence that we have received this free gift…for they are earth-bound results of belief in Jesus.)

And while the Bible makes these two things clear, it also makes it clear that there is a transformational process involved in the becoming like Jesus (Romans 12:2, for example).

Combine these two things, and the true standard that you can use to judge if someone is a Christian is whether or not that someone is actively involved in his or her own transformation into the image of Christ.

If you asked them, they would be able to tell you…

…that they are becoming more like Christ.

…that they are not finished becoming more like Christ.

…how they are becoming more like Christ.

…what old attitudes and actions they had that weren’t like Christ.

…what current attitudes and actions they have that aren’t like Christ.

…what new attitudes and actions they have acquired that are like Christ.

…what attitudes and actions they lack that are like Christ.

…what they participated in, in order to transform into Christ likeness.

…what they are currently participating in, in order to continue transforming into Christ likeness.

So, if you ask them these questions, and they can’t answer (now, give ‘em a minute, because not many ask them to articulate these things), you are free to doubt that they are Christians.

No matter what they say.

Jesus, his attitude and his ways, are the standard of judgment.

On Imitating the 20th Century Church

2009-11-29T19:05:00.001-08:00

“We’re still thinkin’ like a 200-member church.” – Ken Moss, one of my elders, guarding the much needed shift in thinking when your church family grows numerically over 200

“We’re still thinkin’ like a 20th-century church.” – Yours Truly, guarding the much needed shift in thinking when your culture won’t respond like they once did to your church family’s mode of “doing church”

Generally speaking, if you were to study 20th-century Christianity, with an eye to imitate it now in the 21st-century, you would…

…put your primary attention and focus on your Sunday meeting.

…find or build a place adequate to have your Sunday meeting.

…recruit or hire the best public speaker you can find, attract, or afford to preach at your Sunday meeting.

…recruit or hire the best worship leader you can find, attract, or afford to lead singing and/or music at your Sunday meeting.

…collect money from the people who attend your Sunday meeting.

…support and surround your Sunday meeting with good programs for kids to attract families with kids to your meetings.

…spend tons of leadership man-hours deciding what is best, appropriate, most-effective and Biblical to do at and through your Sunday meetings.

…mobilize the people at your Sunday meetings to share the saving message of Christ with people who don’t come to your Sunday meetings, and when they accept that message, get them to faithfully you at your Sunday meetings.

…measure success by how many attend your Sunday meeting.

Generally speaking, if you want to imitate the 20th-century church, the above list will pretty much get you on your way.

Any questions? Thoughts?

I need to tell you that I’m speaking (1) as a primary participant in one of these 20th-century modeled churches, and (2) as a human being who is noticing that other human beings do not respond to this mode of church like they used to, and (3) most importantly and urgently, as a dad who is questioning whether this 20th-century model is going to effectively deliver Christ’s way of life to my kids and their friends in this very different, constantly changing 21st-century.

Any questions? Thoughts? Guidance? Compassion?

Church Technology Blog

2009-11-19T08:02:00.001-08:00

“So often I run into a problem here at my church. I end up doing much research and often come up with a good and/or unique solution. So I was thinking, if God is going to lead me to these solutions and ideas, I ought to share them.” – Craig Mashburn, diligent and creative minister of technology, and my brother

My little brother is a marvel. He was my personal technology minister in Houston, TX for years, helping me accomplish creative ideas in youth ministry that I could have never pulled off without him.

He WAS my personal technology minister until the church I worked for in Houston noticed. Then they high jacked him and put him on staff full time. A wise move on their part. I was the only one against the idea, because then I’d have to share him.

As it turned out, he could handle my whole load and still handle everyone else’s, too. He loves it and is good at it.

When I moved to Amarillo, I was excited to find out that the church here was looking for a techy. My friend Doyle asked, "Do you think Craig would be interested in coming?” My eyes bulged out of my head at the possibility and I said, “I don’t know, but I sure would be interested in his coming!”

I still praise God that a year later, he did. So I’m still close to some family, but also, I still have my personal techy.

Anyway, if you are one or have any tech friends, particularly who work at churches, you’ll want to put them onto this blog Craig is starting. Churches offer unique tech problems, and Craig has man-handled a bunch of ‘em over the years, and thought it quite a waste to not “put them out there” to help others directly or spur on their creative problem solving.

Check it out here:

http://www.craigmashburn.com

Daddy Affirmation Day

2009-11-05T06:46:00.001-08:00

I’ve had a powerfully intense few weeks. I’m an intensity junky of sorts, so it’s been good, but it has taken it’s toll. A toll I’m glad to pay, but a payment to be paid nonetheless. I commonly experience myself as someone who notices he is weary in spirit way too late. But my kid’s love shook me to awareness early this time in a beautiful and creative way.

As I started home from work, I grabbed my phone and there was a missed call from my wife’s cell phone. It was this lengthy message from my youngest son, Jakin, who is age 6 (read it as if it is one sentence with the cutest little boy voice you can imagine).

“Dad – I just wanted to tell you that I wanted to give you a kiss when you get home, and hug, and I want, um…to tell you…um…because you work good cuz, um, I love you cuz, um, you do good stuff and I love you too much and I want you someday to take to…um…I actually don’t want to go to Chicago for our trip, I want to actually go to where Callie, um, went to and do everything Callie did and I wanna ask, uh, to stay at the same room in the hotel, and, um, if we can, and I want to, um, and someday I want us to go the beach and see some penguins and, uh, I just love you and mom loves you to…when you get home, give her a hug and a kiss…bye.”

I smiled and laughed out loud and played it several more times as I drove home. “I love you too much,” just kept ringing in my head and calming my soul. It was cool.

On the homefront, my wife Carrie has been a trooper with some major pain in her lower back. So when I got home, I took my oldest son Shade to soccer practice, picked up my daughter from gymnastics, then with her back to Shade’s practice till it was over, then home to feed ‘em, bath ‘em, do homework, and get ‘em to bed before my men’s group that meets in my basement starts at 8:30.

While Carrie was coaching me on what to do for lunch prep for the next morning, I saw my daughter Callie (age 7) quietly and intently drawing or writing something on the couch. A while back, she made both me and her mom “mailboxes” out of paper and hung them next to our respective sides of the bed. As I was busily hurrying about, she disappeared and reappeared and informed me, “Daaaad –deeee…check your maaaaail booox.” I smiled with a polite “Okay” as I dashed by and gave her a pat. But after I put them to bed, I remembered, and pulled this out.

Of course, I love all the hugs and kisses from my daughter, always, but what really captured my attention was her 3-stage representation of my “growing up”. She identified me as a “kid”, then advancing to “basketball player", and finally to “precher”. While I wonder why she chose these particular images to mark my progression, the most affirming thing to me was what she drew to represent “precher”! It wasn’t me standing behind a pulpit talking. It wasn’t my nose in a book (or The Book) studying, and it wasn’t even me with another person shepherding, all of which would’ve been okay and accurate of some of the things she sees me doing. Instead, it seems her image of a “precher” is a strong, intense-but-smiling, determined sort of character who is ready for some sort of action. I tell you what, if this is anything close to what I am being seen as by my kids as they observe me as “a preacher”, then I’m just plain thrilled. Admittedly, some of this comes from my past & current judgments of preachers, oftentimes unfair and false (and yes, it’s not lost on me the divine comedy that God made me one), but still…it was nice, since it is so important to me to not be a “typical preacher” (let the reader understand) that my daughter represented me as a preacher in an atypical way. It just felt great.

Finally, 8:30 rolls around, kids are tucked in, and about 8 of my buddies from the Basement Boys start showing up. Shade (age 9), has a routine of asking me if my buddy Heath is going to come to group, and if he is, then to send him by his room on the way down the hall for him to say hey, because my son loves him. But in the event Heath doesn’t come, he usually names another guy from my group to send in, as a backup. Last week it was Shane, but this week, he told me to send in Chris.

Chris happened to have “the floor” last night, which means, it was his turn to sit in the “hot seat” and initiate the raw and real, hopefully transformational conversation that we all gather in the basement for. So as we all declared it time to descend, and void of Heath’s presence, I mentioned to Chris to make a quick stop in Shade’s room to say hi.

After a few minutes, Chris comes bounding down to the basement where the rest of us are just visiting amongst ourselves awaiting his arrival in the hot seat that we left empty for him. He busts out with a big smile, and then says, “Let me tell you what Mashburn’s son just said.”

Chris said that after he visited with him, he told Shade that he probably needed to go because he was going to talk down in the basement, and added that he was a little nervous. Shade told him, ‘Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about it. You’ll do good. I’ve done it before. I’ve talked in front of the whole church. You want me to tell you what to do?”

“Sure,” I imagine Chris saying in a very Chris-inviting way.

“Just pretend, while your saying what you need to say, that all the people aren’t even there.”

Here’s the cool part.

Shade added, “Except my dad.”

Chris was beaming in the basement, for me I think, as he said that it was exactly the way he would want his son to talk about him! He said that it was said in a manner that communicated, "No need to pretend my dad’s not there. You’ll want him there.”

Wow.

It wasn’t until this morning that I put together this trifecta of child-delivered, massively-meaningful, attitude-changing, energy-fueling, uncontrollable-smile-producing, peace-giving, not-common-at-all daddy affirmations all happened yesterday, densely packed into a mere 3 hour block of time.

I didn’t know it at the time, but now looking backward, and looking inward, I’m pretty sure it was a little gift of fuel to propel me forward that came from upward.

I instantly thought about blogging about them, sharing the experience with all of you, when I quickly realized how extremely self-exalting it is for me to record and publish just how great I’m coming across to my kids.

So I decided not to.

I did share it with my close friend Doyle, and somewhere in the midst of the thrill and joy of it all, I changed my mind. I had to record it, and share it, not because I think I’m “all that”, but because of the sheer depth at which my children’s honest and spontaneous affirmations of me as a dad satisfies and affirms my soul.

May I never short change my short time with my kids. And may their gracious perceptions of me become true as I am becoming truer.

And may the same be so for all you.

A Song and a Resolution

2009-10-01T12:46:00.001-07:00

“Wake up, wake up, break out in song!” – Judges 5:12

“For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” – 1 Corinthians 2:2

I have two documents sitting on my desk that have blessed me profoundly today.

The first one is written by my 7 year old daughter, Callie. Well, dictated by her. She came running in one day with a sense of urgency asking for pen and paper. She wrote “God is the perfect name!” on the top, put a column of hearts down the side, and then decided she writes too slow to record the song trying to burst out of her heart. She threw the pen and paper in my hands and said, “Hurry, dad, write this down!”

She started with the chorus:

God is the perfect name for the Lord,

God is the perfect name for the Lord.

Jesus is the perfect name for the Lord,

Jesus is the perfect name for the Lord.

Love is the perfect name for the Lord,

Love is the perfect name for the Lord.

Then she had four short verses:

Love brings peace, peace brings love.

If you put them both together, you have Christ in your heart.

Faith brings joy, joy brings faith.

If you put them both together, you have Christ in your heart.

Love brings hope, hope brings love.

If you put them both together, you have Christ in your heart.

It ends triumphantly…

Jesus and God are good for each other!

Jesus and God are the best! (to be sung with arms thrust up into the air!)

She instructed me to take it to my friend Doyle, the worship leader at our church, in order for him to learn it and sing it with our church family.

Amazing.

The second one is from a friend of mine that I am “especially fond of” (he who has read “The Shack”, let him have ears to hear). He, among about 80 others of us, went on a retreat this past weekend on a Ranch south of Amarillo. While there, we examined our personal “story” thus far in our lives, were challenged to give those to God, and let Christ merge with our story from here on out, co-authoring it together.

After laying his story at the foot of the cross, he went into some private space and wrote these resolutions as guides for the rest of his life:

I will stop “doing” church and be Christ to the world.

I will pray unrelenting for those who are lost in my life.

I will be a part of the salvation of my lost family members.

I will spend my time doing the will of God in the world.

I will make a mark on the world around me.

I will get to know more of Christ through the Bible.

I will stop using business as an excuse not to do his work.

I will stop blaming my family for what Satan did.

I will stop using my past as a crutch.

People will see the difference in me.

I’m allowing this paper that Callie wrote move me to worship and reflection (that will actually and practically change the state of my heart), and I’m allowing this paper written by my buddy to move me to resolution and action (that will actually and practically change how you see me live and behave).

May God send you a song and resolution as well.

Jakin Strongman

2009-09-17T15:01:00.001-07:00

I just arrived in my office after an action-packed breakfast at McDonald’s with my youngest son and best buddy, Jakin, who turns 6-years-old today.

Jakin Major Mashburn is the funnest, smiliest, most amazing (not-so-) little boy.

Jakin has a habit of getting up out of bed “one last time” pretty much every night in order to “just say one more thing!” If we can get over ourselves wanting him to get back in bed and go to sleep, it is always hilarious.

Once, as his mom started rebuking him back to his room as his head poked slowly around the corner, he retorted with “I just have one more question!” His mom conceded, asking what it was. Relieved, he stepped into the room and busted out, in all seriousness, with “How can dragons fly when they have those small little wings and big huge giant bodies?” I could see all over his face that he was in his bed really losing sleep over this impossible dilemma.

Another time I heard a little shuffling in the hallway. I let out with one my standard “Go back to bed!” shout outs for whichever one of my little hoodlums it may be, which is usually followed by some quick little retreating footsteps and a door quietly closing. But out darted Jakin announcing that he HAD to tell me “One of my favorite things!” I agreed, and he excitedly proceeded to hold up his hand and announce, “On your hand, you have 4 fingers. But when you add your 1 thumb, its like you have five, but you don’t, because you only have 4 fingers, then you have 1 thumb,” and then looked at me, satisfied that he had cleared that up so excellently for me. I said, “Is that it?” “Yep,” he said, as he turned with certainty and bounded to bed.

Another time it was a question: “Is Beansborough a real state?”

I have no explanation. But it got us both in one of those rare-but-priceless places where you really need to, but you can’t stop laughing. You know, the kind that comes out causing pain and tears you are laughing so hard. Almost like your body is taking what only deserves a small chuckle and using it as an opportunity to hold in weeks of repressed laughter to finally purge itself.

Jakin is capable of creating that often.

Here’s my favorite to date: the kids are all down, it’s quiet, and I was in my bedroom which is down a long hallway from Jakin’s. I was lying on my bed quietly watching TV when in came Jakin dragging his lifeless lower body, presumably all the way from his room, with his arms. As he slowly pulled his comatose legs around the door frame, he announced, “Dad. I got somethin to tell ya. My legs don’t work.” I looked at him knowingly. I said, “Well, Jakin, your in luck. Your supposed to be in bed sleeping. And you don’t need your legs for that. Right?”

“Right. Okay,” he said, and he pulled himself all they way back down the hall and into bed (he seemed to have made a miraculous recovery by the morning, by the way).

Jakin’s first name comes from a midnight wake-up call I felt like I got from God one night. I drug myself to my prayer room and did one of those open-the-Bible-and-read things. I opened to an obscure passage in 1 Kings 7 where it describes the (boring) details of Solomon constructing his palace and stuff around the Temple. I thought, “surely this is not what you woke me up to read, God!” I persevered through really interesting (not!) records of some of dimensions of some of the bronze-works that Solomon had commissioned. And then, right in the middle of this, a strange thing…the scripture pauses right after mentioning these 2 pillars made for either side of the porch of Solomon, and takes the time to give these pillars names. One was named Boaz (which means “God’s strength” I think), the other was named Jakin. I looked it up, because all my wife and I had discussed was we might want a “J” name (dunno why). It means “God establishes.”

Jakin’s middle name, Major, was the maiden name of my wife’s sweet Nana, who had just passed away when we found this name. Major means “greatness”.

So when this cool kid was born we named him “God Establishes Greatness”.

So, Happy Birthday, Jakin Strongman (one of his many identities…check out the video here, if you have Facebook, and watch the video “Greatest Fight on Earth” to see why)! I love you and am so proud to be a front-row witness of the greatness that God is so firmly estbablishing in you!

I love you, buddy.

Useful, Powerful, Courageous Blogs

2009-08-28T07:40:00.001-07:00

My buddy Chris, and excellent writer, friend, care-giver, and follower of Christ has a couple of blogs that I think you would enjoy, particularly if you fall into the category of people he is addressing.

He got a nick-name in college, Fajita, that stuck.

Fajita will stick on you, too (not the food, but his love and wisdom).

Enjoy.

http://smart-single-parents.blogspot.com/

http://smartstepfamilies.blogspot.com/

Do One Thing Well

2009-08-19T20:31:00.001-07:00

"No one can serve two masters." - Jesus

"The most productive people and groups of people, who have any kind of mission, are those who jettison their weightiest cargo." – Your Truly, inspired by Honore de Balzac

I may be in the worst shape of my life because of this shoulder injury I took in a BMX race. Because of it, I haven't been able to hike, wrestle kids, play softball or basketball, run, swim, lift or anything else that might bounce or jiggle my screwed up shoulder (and I mean that literally, my shoulder has a screw in it). The doctor has only released me to ride a stationary bike, so I've been going across the street to the Town Club, doing that, desperate to be in shape. But yesterday I decided to make a "big move" to the Stair Master, a bit tougher workout for sure, but still safe for the shoulder. It felt good.

But that's not why I'm telling you this.

I'm telling you this because the Stair Master is right next to the balcony that looks down over the gym. And down in the gym, I saw something happening that I see happening in a lot of churches, if not most. For sure it is happening in the one I'm blessed to be a part of. And for sure it is happening inside of me.

There was a volleyball game going on. Four students on each team. And there was a half-court basketball game going on. Four more students on each team.

The problem is, there's not room for both to be going on, at least the way they are designed to. Because the courts overlap.

That's not to say they weren't trying. They were trying to each enjoy the game they were playing. They were trying to be kind and respectful of each other. They were trying to stay out of each other's way without compromising the quality of their chosen game. But, alas, they were trying to do so in the same space.

Needless to say, eventually...and repetitively...they got in each other's way. A guy drove the lane, then zipped the ball out to the top of the key which is well into the center of the volleyball court, and just as he was taking his wide open shot...bam!...the volleyball whizzes into the back of his arms. A guy spikes the ball that get's blocked, so his teammate rushes aggressively to the back corner of the court to keep the ball in play and...smack!...right into a basketball defender's legs as he jumps to make a block.

It wasn't working. They all knew it. But no one was addressing it. No one was trying to get agreement on what sport to play. No one wanted to offend anyone else. No one addressed it. They just kept on playing their half-games as if everything would just work out. Oh, you could see some sarcastic looks among the volleyball players to each other, and hear some disgruntled murmurings from the basketball players among themselves, but they weren’t addressing each other. And neither was able to do their thing well.

They kept playing, but it was so maddening for both, that I wondered if one group would finally either blow up in frustration, or just quit because it wasn't worth the battle anymore.

For you church folks...sound familiar?

Watching the growing tension, I found myself eager for some Town Club authority to come in and expose this dilemma for them. No, not expose it, they all knew it was there. Address it. Forthrightly and openly, with a conscientious mind for a solution. I wanted for someone to discern some options for these guys that would allow one of the games to be played well. I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't disappoint at least some of the folks, but I could think of plenty of things that would acknowledge the problem and then invite everyone to be a part of the solution...even if it called for some of them to sacrifice doing things "their way".

Again...sound familiar?

Allow me to take the analogy a step further. This gym is in a health club. Presumably, you come to this gym to get exercise in order to improve your health. While you can play basketball or volleyball in it(or dodge ball, or chase, or roller hockey), it's not made primarily for basketball or volleyball. It is made for exercise. Both the volleyball and basketball players could've gotten exercise by joining the other group in their sport. But they weren't there for exercise, and even if initially they were, they ended up making it about playing their desired sport, and didn't mind sabotaging the effectiveness of the other group's game (and exercise) to get it.

You following me here?

Let me take it further. A younger group of folks came in looking to play something as well. They saw what was being communicated non-verbally by the group(s) in the gym, and didn't give a second thought to picking up a basketball and starting another game on a side basketball court that overlapped BOTH the other groups. There was no mistaking it, it was downright imposing and rude.

But what could the ones in there first say? "Can you kids not see that you are interrupting our game?" Nope. They couldn't. It would have made them accountable to explain either (a) why they weren't confronting the other group as well, or (b) admit they were doing the same thing.

So...they all just kept running into each other, ruining each other's games, unable to really enjoy it, and not any of them doing any of it well.

I can't resist...let me take it a little further. When I finished my stair-climbing, I took a cool-down walk around the small running track, which took me to the other side of the gym. From there, I could see the other sideline, hidden from my Stair Master view. There, I saw a 3 on 3 soccer game trying to be played between the wall of the gym and the volleyball court line! It was pitiful. Determined...and I respect that...but pitiful. An interrupting and interrupted game as much as the other 3.

But that's not the worst of it. There were at least a dozen kids down there sitting and standing along the wall. They were watching it all...some looking like they wished they were playing something, some looking intimidated by the chaos, some apologizing for getting in the way of the soccer game, some looking like they didn’t want to be there but their mom or dad is working out and they can’t leave, and (this one's my favorite) some laughing at the collisions and passive-aggressive conflicts taking place out on the floor. And in the few seconds I watched, a few kids stepped in the doors, looked around, and shaking their heads walked right out. They wanted nothing to do with what was going on in there...partly because there was no way to imagine where or what they could join in with.

Now...if a manager from the Town Club did enter the scene with a mind to figure out how to improve what was happening, what would you imagine he should do? What questions would he need to ask? And of whom would he ask them? Who get's the priority here? Is it based on who was there first? On what sport can involve the most people? A democratic vote?

Is it based on what the manager comes in and dictates? On what he likes best? On who he likes best in the room?

Is it based on who's family contributes the most to the Town Club financially? On who gets the most upset? On who has the strongest will out there? On keeping as many people happy as possible so they won't leave the Town Club?

If I've done a good job making it seem like a hard situation...then I've accurately described why I think what I saw happening on that gym floor is happening in a lot of churches.

I doubt the Town Club would solve it this way...but I think churches need their God-fearing, prayerfully discerning, Christ-focused, disciple-making leaders to come to conviction from God on that one thing that they should do well...and then invite everyone who wants to be associated with them into that particular game.

At our particular church, one game being played is the game of "making disciples of Jesus Christ through relationships". And another game being played is "let's base our worship practices on the 1st Century church's worship practices".

Both games are being played, and both are trying to be respectful of the other, but they are overlapping and occupying the same space. They are each determined, and I respect that, but on occasion, it is pitiful. That's not to say we aren't trying. We are trying to each enjoy the game we are playing. We are trying to be kind and respectful of each other. We are trying to stay out of each other's way without compromising the quality of our chosen game.

But, alas, we are trying to do so in the same space. Needless to say, eventually...and repetitively...we get in each other's way. One group has a class about legalism, trying to address the other. The other has a small group discussion about how far we've departed from the Bible's clear teaching, trying to address the other. But a lot of this amounts to sarcastic looks and disgruntled murmurings among each group, rather than healthy dialogue between each group.

Now...let me be clear...I think both groups are motivated, at least initially, by love. And if it was just about these two groups, and no one else, I might be fine with a church just doing the best they can in this situation. Give each group the freedom to play their game, and deal with the emotions and relationships between them only when they and their values bump into each other in an offensive way. I'm not sure I would, but I might.

However, it's those doggone kids sitting on the side of the gym that puts me over the top with zeal for some kind of decision to be made about which game will be played in this gym, followed by a bold and practical application of it. It’s the people of the world, watching us. Some of them are just wishing they could be a part of something. Some of them are intimidated by all the chaos. Some of them wish they weren’t here, but their parents or spouse or kids make them come. Some (these are my least favorite) are just laughing at all the collisions and passive-aggressive conflicts going on between us.

It's those people out there in the world, the one's Jesus said he came to seek and save, the one's he said God loves so much he sent him to die for them, the one's he said he came to give life to the full to, the ones he said would know him because of our unity around loving them, the one's that look at us and then walk off shaking their heads because they can't determine what or how they might fit into this with us.

It all makes me desire that some Spiritual Authority would come in and expose this dilemma for us. No, not expose it. We all know it is there. Address it. Forthrightly and openly. And with a conscientious mind for a solution. I want for someone to discern some options for us that would allow one of the games to be played well. I can't think of anything that wouldn't disappoint at least some of the folks, but I could think of plenty of things that would acknowledge the problem and then invite everyone to be a part of the solution...even if it called for some of them to sacrifice doing things "their way".

I don’t mind confessing to you all that I fall unapologetically on the side of playing the "making disciples of Jesus Christ through relationships" game, for the simple reason that winning the lost to worship a certain way on Sunday mornings won't save anybody from anything, but teaching them to live like Christ will save anybody in every way they need to be saved.

I know our church is not alone. The games being played may be different, but the dilemma is the same. Anyone have any real, practical, compassionate, effective recommendations or thoughts?

A Prophecy from My Past Self?

2009-07-26T13:05:00.001-07:00

(For some reason, this old post from 4 years ago (right down to the exact week) came to my attention TWICE today...and I'm starting to get suspicious as to why. The first was while I was cleaning out an end table in our living room. While frantically throwing away the stuff that had collected in it, I noticed a printout of one my old emails, and it was this one. I didn't think much of it, glanced at it quickly, then tucked it away for later, maybe. The second was just a minute ago, after publishing a new piece on my blog, even though I never have done this, I decided to pick a random archive page (found in the lower left column at www.brianmashburn.net). And of all the posts on there, and of all the buttons I could've picked, it was this same one. So I said, "Okay, God, okay," and read it expectantly...hmmm, I wonder if the day has come? And if so, what does it mean? Sobering. Intriguing. Challenging. Worthy of my prayer and close listening, and connecting with you, my community. Any thoughts, feedback, probing questions, or contributions are invited and would be most welcome.

I'm ready for a revolution.)

The Day That is Coming...But Not Yet - July 31, 2005

"You remind me of the Apostle Paul." -- said to me by my friend, Ben Wall, years ago, as we did ministry together

I have long felt a kinship with Paul of the Bible. I think that anyone who has seriously committed his life and soul to advancing Christ's Kingdom can find a version of his own story in Paul's story, but I still like to think that he and I have a special affinity. And while I like to imagine having a powerful, global impact like he, that's not what I'm talking about.

Remember when Paul (he went by Saul then) used all his zeal and passion to defend "God's religion" from moving into error by Christians? I used to do that. Remember when Paul was then interrupted by Jesus and was told to stop what he was doing because he, in fact, was working against God and didn't know it? I feel like that happened to me. Remember how Paul sat in Damascus, dazed and confused and blinded, waiting for Jesus to tell him what to do? I experienced that.

And remember when Jesus promised and then commissioned Paul personally, "I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me." I so totally feel like I have had this experience.

I feel sent, like Paul, to the "gentiles" of our day. No, not "non-Jews", for I am one of them, and indebted to Paul for initiating such a powerful ministry to us. The gentiles of our day, at least in America, are the "non-churched". I don't really like that word, but haven't found one I like, and so will trust you know what I mean.

And you know how Paul went first to the Jews in each city he visited to see who would accept the Messiah so that he knew who he could count on in that city to be a church fellowship for these hard to accept gentiles? I feel like I'm supposed to do that, too. The way Paul and his buddy Barny explained themselves to the Jews was, "We had to speak the word of God to you first." (Acts 13:46) And I honestly feel like, too. As a matter of fact, that is a PERFECT description of the season of Paul's life that I am in right now, right here in Amarillo. The "Jews" in my life (per this analogy) are my friends at the Southwest Church of Christ. Probably the best statement from Paul's life, that reflects this current priority of mine, is a comment by Luke when he said, "Paul devoted himself exclusively to preaching, testifying to the Jews that Jesus was the Christ." (Acts 18:5)

Up ahead, however, a dramatic decision awaits me. (I am fortunate that I have many brothers and friends and intimate allies that surround me. And I don't know about Paul, but I need them. They remind me of what matters most when I'm weary. At the first sign of possible discouragement or distraction, they notice and firmly keep my eyes on the Goal.) And sometimes I put my head down to the ground and watch my feet take one step at a time and forget, but God oftentimes forces my head up to look ahead...and when He does, excitement and passion and conviction (and emails like this one) just pop out of me.

Before too terribly long, the day is coming that I will turn resolutely to the "Gentiles" and take the Word of God to them. It will be great because I know there are folks out there who are just waiting to hear about this life-giving message from me, and are ready to embrace it with both arms by letting go of everything else...and that many of my "Jewish" brothers will go out there with me. But it will also be sad because it will mark an end of the current season of life for me, the one where I get to preach Christ to "my own people" first, inviting them from the religious life we were brought up with to the abundant life of a singular focus on Christ's mission.

The way Paul said it, when it came upon him, was..."We had to speak the word of God to you first. Since you reject it and do not consider yourselves worthy of eternal life, we now turn to the Gentiles. For this is what the Lord has commanded us." (Acts 13:47)

The way Luke continued his commentary about this was..."Paul devoted himself exclusively to preaching, testifying to the Jews that Jesus was the Christ. But when the Jews opposed Paul and became abusive, he shook out his clothes in protest and said to them, "Your blood be on your own heads! I am clear of my responsibility. From now on I will go to the Gentiles." (Acts 18:5-6)

I am currently preaching to the Southwest Church of Christ, explaining and declaring to them the kingdom of God and trying to convince them about Jesus from the law of Moses and from the Prophets and from the Gospels and from the Letters (see Paul's version of this in Acts 28:23-25). And it is awesome. I have joined many among these people who have been doing this for years before I got here, most notably the elders and ministers that I get to work with, and there are dozens more.

So for now, I am full of joy as I pursue this season of life and calling, patiently watching to see who else has already and will continue to join us in discovering the "more and more" available to us in Christ. But I also enjoy lifting my head, looking forward, and seeing that the time is coming (the day and hour I don't know) that my heart's desire to see new life flow into the hearts of those outside our Southwest walls, because of the people inside of our walls. It will be a time in my life where I feel I will have been faithful to God's commission to me...to go to "the Gentiles" and share with them our lives and this great news.

Then, I hope and pray, what happened in Paul's life will happen in mine..."When the Gentiles heard this, they were glad and honored the word of the Lord; and all who were appointed for eternal life believed. The word of the Lord spread through the whole region." (Acts 13:48-50)

I Hugged Myself Yesterday

2009-07-25T22:50:00.001-07:00

Deirdre Lefever: You thought he was here so you could fix him? It didn't occur to you that it might be the other way around?
Russ Duritz: ...Not until recently, no.

--- Bruce Willis, in the Disney movie The Kid, after his 8-year-old self showed up mysteriously when he was 40.

I stood outside a courtroom yesterday holding a weeping boy who had just finished sitting inside it where the sins of his dad had caught up with him. He listened as his dad plead guilty to the charges against him, because he was, and threw himself at the mercy of the court concerning punishment. He listened as the the prosecuting attorney put up witness after witness outlining the crimes, a punishment in and of itself to this son-of-the-accused, and he listened as the judge pronounced the multi-year sentencing of his dad. And then he watched as his dad turned and looked at him and the rest of his family, full of shame and regret, sadness and fear, and then he watched as the bailiff marched him off to prison.

And then he began sobbing...the only sound that he could add to the tears were the words, "I want my daddy. I want my daddy."

His daddy is my friend. I met him 3 years ago. He'd started coming to my basement every Tuesday night with a group of guys who meet there to make friends, brothers, and allies out of each other by taking the mask off, being fully known, and helping each other, whatever it takes, to become better men. Men who live better lives. The best possible one is the one we are all after, and since Jesus Christ says that's why he came...to give us that (Jn 10:10)...well, we're giving it, and him, a try.

This guy comes from a life of darkest dark. But he and I and a group of others bared our souls. We bared our hearts. And we began the exciting, but slow ascent up towards light. This guy is a good guy. But many of the sections of the ascent were steep and slippery, impossible to navigate alone without brothers, let alone without God, and he tried foolishly several times to go it alone and slipped back. We were always there to catch him, and pick him up, and challenge him back to his feet. One of those times, however, landed him, yesterday, in prison.

I and another brother from the Basement Boys were there as character witnesses. My buddy's attorney asked me a bunch of questions to show that there was a group of good guys "out there" that love, trust, and are committed to him so that the judge might give him probation. And that is why I thought I was there. And I was. And I did. (My proudest moment came when the prosecuting attorney asked me about my kids, and asked if a man were to try to give my son some drugs, would I want the man responsible to be punished. I answered, "I would want him to be changed.") I was there for that. But I was there for another reason, too.

I was there to embrace his son. I was there to get the chest of my shirt wet with some of his tears. And not for him.

I mean, sure, it was for him. But not strictly for him. It was also for me.

See, some people wouldn't have a clue what to say to him right then. I'm often in situations like that…where I’m with people dealing with dilemma's that all I can give is my presence and my prayers. And I've learned that that is enough for people. Actually, that is a lot. Actually, that is love of the greatest sort. But this time, the words came flooding to me, and not because of some mysterious and enlivening Holy Spirit intervention (which I have experienced) where you end up saying, "I don't know where those words came from!" (which I have said). Nope. This time, I knew what to say, and I knew where the words came from.

While I held him, I put my mouth next to his ear and said, "Son, I've stood right here where you are standing. I sat in a courtroom where the sins of my dad had caught up with him. I listened as my dad plead guilty to the charges against him, because he was, and threw himself at the mercy of the court concerning punishment. I listened as the judge pronounced the multi-year sentencing of my dad, and then watched as the bailiff marched him off to prison.”

At this point, I pulled back and had him look me in the eye as I continued, "...and I made it. I didn't lose my dad, even though on that day it felt like I had. I didn't. And he wasn't gone as long as they said he would be. Which was great. And while there were hard days while he was gone, this day, the one you are in right here, the feeling you are feeling right now, was the hardest. So let's you and I make it through this day, and then the worst day will be over, and you'll know that you can make it."

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

His dad gone, I drove him and his dad's truck to his house for the family. We talked some more, like deeply unified, mutually understanding brothers, 30-years removed. In that short drive home, we slipped between practical questions, somber silence, and boisterous laughter with the ease that comes from common traumatic experiences.

I guess I was there for him.

Sure, I was there for him.

Sure I was.

Sure.

Suuuure I was.

For him.

Right.

“I am just like you before God; I too have been taken from clay.” – Job, to his friends, wanting them to see they are the same

“I plead with you, brothers, become like me, for I became like you.” – Paul, to his friends, wanting them to walk the path he did, so they could have life to the full

I Need to Repent

2009-07-01T08:16:00.001-07:00

“A person changes when that person develops a desire to change.” – Your Truly

"I tell you the truth, unless you change… you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” - Jesus

“The only thing that stays the same is that things change.” – Jim Sheppard

I want people to change. I want it badly. I want the wounded to heal, the frantic to have peace, the lazy to find purpose, the sad to get joy, the angry to forgive, the hurtful to be loving, the depressed to have hope. If I am going to expend energy, this is what I want to expend energy doing. Changing people…starting with myself (which will never end) and then offering it through every single relationship I have or will ever have (which will also never end).

This has been true for as long as I can remember. And in my adult life, as I look back, it is pretty much consistently what I have done.

As consistent as this has been outwardly, I can also see by looking back that the motivation behind that work inwardly has changed.

In the past, my motivations to help others change was really self-serving. They included:

My need to believe that substantial change was possible.
My desire to “be effective” as a helper of people.
My need to prove that my motives were pure (to others, yes, but really to myself).
My need to “be” for someone else what I felt I never “had” for myself.
My desire to be “a good leader”.

Looking over that list, all of them could go under the heading of one profound work…my own healing. With only subtle (and often overlapping) differences, I have thus far in my life engaged in the work of helping people change for my own healing.

I’m happy to report, at the age of 41, that I feel like I’ve progressed in this area, and would describe myself as “healed and healing”. One of the litmus tests that signals to me that this profound milestone has happened comes in the form of the feeling that, while I want people to change, I no longer need others to change.

For example:

I don’t need others to change to believe that change is possible anymore.
I don’t need others to change to prove I’m an “effective” helper of people anymore.
I don’t need to help others change to prove my motives are pure anymore.

With this glorious change in my inner being comes a problem that I was surprised by and am now currently wrestling through. You see, one of the benefits of having my own need to heal as my motivation to help others change is the fuel and passion it gives me to do so. Said another way, without “needing” others to change, the fuel that runs me as a “helping people change” machine is gone.

To sum up: the outward work that I have always done (“helping others change”) is what I want to continue to do. But without my own self-serving needs (“my need to heal”) fueling that work, I’m in need of something new…a new fuel.

It has taken me some time, deep contemplation, and time with Christ and my fellow Christ-following community, but I have figured out what the new fuel, if I am to find the motivation to continue helping people change, needs to be. And I’m a bit ashamed of what I found it to be.

Love.

I need to learn to love.

If love can be (partially) described as “kindly helping others become more like Christ for their good,” then what I have been doing is “kindly helping others become more like Christ for my own healing.”

So…today, I need to repent for my lack of love.

I expect this to be the most profound and all-consuming repentance of my life. It will call for my most focused effort, my most determined commitment, and a diligence, persistence, and depth that, thus far, I have never had to access. I’m bracing myself for this one to by my last one…not that I will not have countless other faults to address and course-corrections to make…but that this one will be the wind that drives all the rest. This one, I think, will explain me. This one, finally, this one, will kill me.

Don’t feel sorry for me, friends. I am elated. The shame that I am coming to grips with concerning what a beginner I am at this love thing is equaled by my excitement to begin the journey.

I am currently re-reading the story of Jesus, eager to witness him being motivated by this newest understanding of what love is! I am moving ever closer, if at a snails pace, towards my life-long goal of becoming more like Christ, which is more like God…Who is Love.

“Whoever loses his life for me will find it.” - Jesus

Dangerous Questions that Bring Life

2009-06-19T14:24:00.001-07:00

"Success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue naturally, and it only does so as the unintended but allowed, if not chosen, side effect of one's personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself." - Viktor Frankl

"You have to let it happen by not caring about it all that much, and certainly not nearly as much as the greater cause to which you have become a willing slave." Viktor Frankl

"I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your ability and knowledge. Then you will live to see success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think about it." - Viktor Frankl

"His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'" - Jesus Christ

I had a BMX race accident a few weeks ago, and shoulder surgery shortly after, and now, in the midst of a long recovery have been cursed/blessed with an incapacity to do my normal routine.

Cursed, obviously, because it is frustrating to be incapable.

Blessed, because it is usually through forced change that we do any changing. And since changing is my both my life and my message to the world, I am being blessed. I've had a lot more time to appreciate and evaluate the normal routine that I'm so committed to.

Using Viktor's powerful words above, I am asking:

Am I "successful"?

Am I happy?

Am I personally dedicated to a cause greater than myself?

Am I caring more for the cause I serve than my success & happiness?

Am I listening to what my conscience commands?

Am I carrying that out to the best of my ability and knowledge?

And to add Christ's even more potent summary of all of those:

Am I being faithful in the few things (that lead to the influence of many things), and thereby sharing in the happiness of Christ?

Are you?

I sat with a wonderful man today, a man full of passion and dreams, longing and loneliness, ideals and honesty, woundedness and love. And as he spoke, these already flared up questions screamed for my full attention.

This is important stuff for me to constantly stay in. It makes people uncomfortable sometimes, though I'm unsure why.

I think some people who identify me as their "preacher" are uncomfortable with any sign of uncertainty from their "preacher".

I think some people who identify me as a mentor are uncomfortable with me not having an answer for everything.

I think some people who look at the outward circumstances of my life (beautiful family, secure and meaningful job, etc) are uncomfortable with my constant pushing and questioning because I should merely be grateful for what I got (which I certainly am).

But it's important stuff for me to constantly stay in. And I invite you all, in this small way, down into the depths of my soul as witnesses, for what it is worth. Thanks, in advance, for listening.

So, without tying a pretty little bow around this piece, let me just answer the questions.

I am successful at loving people, serving people's hearts, and creating atmospheres where people are either invited, inspired, or allowed to do revolutionize their own lives. I am not successful at coaching, training, and mentoring other's to do so with regularity and consistency.

I am happy with the circumstances that I am within.

I am personally dedicated to a cause greater than myself. Most of my life, I have cared more for that cause (which, by the way, is helping people, through relationships, to live life to the full...that is, to become more like Christ) than being successful in that cause. More recently, I'm fearful that my focus has shifted to my success in doing so.

I think my conscience commanded my actions with brilliant clarity when I was needing healing from past wounds. I think I'm struggling to hear what my conscience commands of me in the absence of such desperation. In other words, motivation is easier to come by for me when I am trying to "fix something in the world". When I have come to an acceptance of things the way they are, it is harder to summon motivation and decipher what it is I need to do. Love is my motivation (even for this message), but what specifically to do and how to do it is elusive to me. I don't like it (but trust that it is doing it's work on me as God has appointed it).

Because of that last paragraph, unless I am doing this work that you are witnessing now, and doing it communally, I have to say that I have not been carrying out my work to the best of my ability and knowledge. It's just so much easier to do a good job than it is to challenge the status quo...both personally, and in the systems, structures and organisms within which each of us live.

This is my daily choice. Hourly, really. No...every minute.

When I have been, and when I am, a "good and faithful servant" to my calling in every minute ('the few things'), caring only for that faithfulness, that is when I see the unstoppable impact for good that my life is and can be. And when I do that, my friends...wow...when I do THAT... am I ever happy. Am I ever.

And faithfulness is dying in every moment. From indulging my desire for ease of life, success-in-the-eye-of-men, ego-stroking behavior and thoughts and instead giving myself over to love, sacrifice, honesty, status-quo destroying truth-telling, relationships, contemplative prayer, and heart-enlivening activism.

Pray for me to live my best possible life.

Kids…Family

2009-05-24T19:40:00.001-07:00

I spent 24 hours with my youngest son Jakin this last week. We rented a Cow Cabin down in the floor of the Palo Duro Canyon. We hiked, climbed, played cards, played follow the leader, waded a half mile down a creek, rode horses, ate, saw spiders, hawks, cardinals, wild turkey's, jackrabbits, giant beetles, deer, and most importantly, each other. We had an all around super time.

I spent 24 hours with my oldest son Shade this last week. We rented a hotel room at the local Drury here in town. We swam, went to a movie, went geocaching (treasure hunting), played cards, hung out at the skate park with our BMX bikes, stayed up way too late, ate, swam some more, made a few friends at the hotel, and most importantly, were with each other. It was awesome.

I spent 24 hours with my daughter Callie this last week. We stayed in the Drury as well. We went shopping, bought something pink, laughed, swam, hugged, held hands, saw a movie, played tons of cards, swam some more, ate, packed together, went to church, and most importantly, enjoyed each other. I finished our "day" telling her that my heart was full of joy because of being with her for so long. It was.

Another incredible thing about my experience with each kid was that while I was enjoying concentrated time with each one, I found myself missing the other two profoundly, along with my wife.

And it wasn't just me. They each look forward to this annual "day with dad" each year, but while I was just starting with one son, he said, "Dad, I think I just want to go home and be with the family." And my other son, after a few hours together, wondered aloud, "I wonder what mom is doing with the other kids?" And then my daughter, as we were headed down to the pool lit up as she said, "Let's call mom and the boys to come join us!"

Family.

We all got back together today. It was a great reunion of fighting, bickering, playing, sharing, arguing, laughing, accusing, accepting, forgiving, complaining, and...well...family.

I do a day with each child every year during my 3 week sabbatical from my regular routine. Each year, while I love the time alone with God, the time away from the office, the rest from my regular duties, I find myself thinking about and missing all of the people that I live with in it.

I miss my family.

I've got one more week. Then it will be a great reunion of...well...family.

I love you all for the role you play in my life. Please know that I am always eager to find how to better play my role within it and with you.

May our Father make it so.

Descending to the Top

2009-05-19T15:04:00.001-07:00

“The Lord descended to the top of Mount Sinai and called Moses up to the top of the mountain.” – Exodus 19:20

I like high places. I’m scared of them. And I like them.

When I was a boy, if I saw a tree, I’d want to climb it. In college, I found a way up to the top of at least half the buildings on campus. If there is a rock, a cliff, or a mountain…yep, I want to get to the top.

And by the word “top", I mean “up”… as in, I want to get as high up as is possible for me. I don’t mean it in the sense that I have to be the best as compared to the people around me. While I’ve got some competitiveness in me, and I like to be good at stuff, I’ve not really needed to be the best. For this I’m grateful.

Spiritually, I can’t think of a time that I haven’t longed to be with God. I can’t think of a time when I wasn’t, in some way, climbing to the highest place in order to get some glimpse of Him.

I’ve come to accept this as a calling. A calling from God to meet Him. It has been the adventure of my life - Confusing, glorious, disturbing, and romantic. It’s unlike anything I can think of. It provides some of the oddest paradoxes:

It can have me in the deepest relationships possible with people and still lonely.
It sometimes has me running to people to meet God, and other times from people to meet God.
Successful spiritual encounters, as such, are fleeting. But so are failures and setbacks.
He can be far and close at the same time.

In all of my climbing, I have learned one profoundly useful truth:

The highest height that I can reach with all of my strength, will, determination, and might in order to meet God would still require a much longer journey of descent from God Himself if I would meet with Him.

There is something both frustrating and comforting in this. I’m glad to say that the frustrating part is fading away, and only the comfort will remain.

As I continue in the “mountain climbing” of a three-week sabbatical given to me by my loving church, I gladly exert all my heart, soul, mind and strength in an ascent for just the chance that He will descend and meet me at the top.

And for all of you, my fellow journeyers who are making the trip, who have belief enough to engage in the great Christian adventure, you inspire and fuel me in mine, and I look forward to our seasonal meetings along the way.

Am I Doing What I Should be Doing?

2009-04-20T08:43:00.001-07:00

“Wise priorities, when they lift useful things over useless things, change your life. But when they lift better things over useful things, you change the world.” – Yours Truly

“Seek first the Kingdom and everything else that matters will be given to you as well.” – Jesus Christ

I want to cry tonight. I'm not sure why.

Usually, when I want to cry, it is because I'm wondering if I'm doing what I should be doing.

Am I? Am I doing what I should be doing?

These days, when I ask that question, it is at least four questions:

1. What is it that I am doing that is wrong?

2. What is it that I am doing that needs to stop because I could be doing something better?

3. What is it that I am not doing that I should be because it is right?

4. What is it that I am not doing that I should be doing because it is better?

As for the first question, my current thoughts go to my eating habits. I don't eat a lot, but I don't eat well. Burgers and fries are an almost daily occurance for me. And while I have cut way back from the case-a-day intake of Dr. Pepper from my twenties (not joking), I still have days when I drink more of it than I do water. This is wrong. Not black-and-white wrong, unfortunately. But I think I'm going to need to make it so for me to do anything about it. Additionally, I've lately been wondering about how much TV I watch. I use it to chill out, unwind, usually late at night to end my day. Again, nothing "wrong" with it, unless it's eating at you and possibly taking the place of things much more productive for the Kingdom I serve, and maybe more effective in chilling out and unwinding (vs. numbing out by losing myself in a fictional drama).

To answer the second question, I have to tell you my thoughts concerning the fourth question. Lately I've been prompted to think about my "ministry focus" in the world.

Some background: I have long been convinced to use Jesus Christ as my personal role model for how to do ministry on his behalf...and his ministry is explainable through the various relationships he maintained with actual people.

He preached to 1000s
He trained 72
He mentored 12
He poured himself into 3.

You might even say he had one "favorite" in Peter (unless you are John, then you'd say it was John - see Jn 13:23; 20:2; 21:7; 21:20).

So Jesus had various levels of intimacy and relationships, and they each served different, and strategic, purposes:

Jesus spent time winning loads of people to be interested in the "life" he was offering.
From among them, he invested in building some of them up in the living and maintaining of that "life."
And fewer still, but from among those, he equipped some to deliver that "life" to others.

This resulted in the multiplication of leaders who were called and enabled by Christ (through his Spirit) to change the world by going around and creating relational environments (churches) that would result in the winning, building, and equipping of others in various places and contexts.

Okay, so all that to say this: I think I have let my equipping focus slip and go stagnant.

I have learned that if I invest in relationships with people who are "lost" and need the message of Christ, then I will have relationships with those who are lost and interested in the message of Christ, more than I could ever possibly handle, and they will bring their friends to me.
And if I invest in relationships with people who are "saved" and need to mature or maintain their faith in living the life of Christ in the storms of life, then I will have relationships with those who need to mature or maintain their faith in living the life of Christ...again, too many for any man to maintain.
Likewise, I have learned that if I invest in equipping workers for Christ, those ready to give their lives to the work of the Kingdom, ready and eager for training, coaching, and mentoring, then I will have relationships with workers, and I will train, coach, and mentor those who will win and build up others...and they will bring their friends to me.

With this observable life experience of mine, it sort of just becomes a matter of math (not really, of course, but he who has an ear, let him hear).

This gets hard, because then I have to face the second question. 'Cuz see, the good things that I am doing right now, that may be hindering my doing these better things, are just that...good things. In my ministry focus, do I have to give up my relationships with the Basement Boys (my men's small group...with is primarily "winning")? Or preaching and teaching to my church family (which is primarily "building")? Maybe (and hopefully) not. Perhaps I just need to take action on my answer to question #1, and then get busy on my answer to question #4. Perhaps. But honestly, I've done this kind of work many times, probably not.

As for the third question, I am always thinking first in terms of my family. I have nice, leather bound journals that I have begun for each of my 3 kids...intended to be periodic letters from their dad...that sit mostly neglected. I feel like the demands of parenthood drive my decisions more than my values. I love giving my wife my full presence to her heart, her needs, her desires, her dreams...but we feel blessed when we successfully protect our weekly date night each Thursday to eat together and watch a movie. My mom and dad each live far away, aging, and I and my kids are missing it and all the value that entails. Secondly, I think about my opportunities to encourage and just "be there" more for my church family. I'm not the stereotypical preacher in many ways, not the least of which being that all my focus on natural relationships steals from my church family some of the good things that they may have the right to expect from thier "preacher". As it currently is, I only have 2 formal teaching outputs a week (Sun AM preaching, Wed PM teaching), I don't attend all the events held by our church, and I can't be counted on to make it by the hospitals for everyone on the prayer list. I don't spend as much creative energy on the preaching/teaching times as I could if I moved those tasks up on the priority list like most preachers I know do. I want to do my best work influencing the staff and elders in their conforming into the image of Christ, helping them express the values of Christ (above) in their personal and ministry lives, but even that gets swallowed up in the "it's always easier to do nothin' than somethin" category. I have the greatest family, and the greatest church family, that anyone on this earth has the right to ask for from God Almighty, and I just want to be dog-gone sure I'm fulfilling my duty to them all, you know?

And underneath all of these worthy questions is my one desire that permeates, defines, directs, and usurps them all. My desire to be one with God.

To have actual God-contact.

To engage with Him.

To hear from Him.

To be with Him.

To love Him.

To visit with Him.

To speak to Him.

To be heard by Him.

To live with Him.

To become like Him.

To be healed...

To be instructed...

To be disciplined...

To be filled...by Him.

Oneness with God. That's why I ask this question that becomes four that becomes one.

I want it. Above all else.

I would give up all things...the things I value most...just to have Him.

I need not even speak of my material possessions, my status socially or professionally, my accomplishments in this world, my gifts and talents and personality that I have come to depend on to make it in this life. These I value...but they don't hold a candle to what I value most.

I would give up all the worthy, God-honoring, Christ-exalting, Kingdom-advancing work in the world...that I have done, or will ever do...to just have Him.

I would walk away from my wife, and each one of my kids...to just have Him.

Maybe there are nights when I wouldn't say this. For sure there are days when I don't live this.

But tonight, I feel like crying. And I don't know why. But I think it is my longing for Him. Just Him. Above all else.

I love you all.

The Three Circles

2009-04-07T12:20:00.001-07:00

"Let us make man in our image, in our likeness.” – God, to Himself, in Genesis 1, speaking about mankind

“When you eat of the forbidden tree, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God.” – Satan, to mankind, in Genesis 3

“The freedom that Christ came to give comes to those who stop trying so hard to be what God already made them.” – Yours Truly

“Only let us live up to what we have already attained.” – Philippians 3:16

I sat with a wonderfully energetic, powerful, fully present, lover of people yesterday who was explaining to me how overwhelmed, tired, unsure, ashamed, doubtful and diminished she was.

The circumstances of her life humbled me. She is dealing with a lot. The spot she sits in is full of trouble. As with us all, they are partly the tragic result of some self-defeating decisions she has made, and partly the result of some injustices that people around her have inflicted.

She afforded me the pleasure of sifting through it all with her. And as we tried to isolate a few of the various tributaries that are feeding the furious waterfall that is beating down on her, we identified a few things:

1. She is struggling to trust God. – And it’s so understandable. Why is she trying so hard to be devoted to God and being “cursed” while others don’t seem to have a care in the world for God and are so “blessed” and carefree?

2. She is overwhelmed by guilt. – She humbly admits mistakes, one in particular screams loudly at her, and she is sure she deserves whatever consequences she gets.

3. She has spiritual questions that can’t be answered with certainty. – You know how frustrating this is. Why did God make us in the first place? Why did He give us the opportunity to choose badly? Why does,n’t He answer my believing prayers every time?

4. She is exhausted from her striving. – In her words, she’s trying to be “mom-of-the-year", “teacher-of-the-year”, “wife-of-the-year,” and “Christian of the year” all without letting anyone down, and all of it in the midst of impossible demands, emotional drains, unfair circumstances, fights to make amends, uncooperative people, and weighty decisions to make.

How many of us are or have been here? Finally admitting these heart-disturbing conditions is always the first step to overcoming them, and sharing them with another, and ultimately with God, is the next. And the healing that comes (not without a fight, of course) becomes the source of a very new peace, joy, and life to the full.

All of them, but number 4 in particular, reminded me of a concept that concerns her identity…her true one, her perceived true one, and finally the one that she was presenting to the world.

I called it “the three circles.”

The first, outer circle is the identity we work very hard to present to the world “out there” (and in a way, to ourselves in the mirror). It is how we wish to be viewed, but we know it’s not true. We present ourselves as smart, strong, competent, capable, secure, gifted, determined, loving, forgiving, happy, passionate, unstoppable, invulnerable, responsible, dependable, worthy, desirable human beings. Oh, we all do it differently through different means, but we do it. It is exhausting, spirit-killing work…but we must do it because we know just underneath it is the horrible truth of…

The second circle is what we perceive as our true identity. We are stupid, weak, incompetent, incapable, insecure, average, lazy, hateful, spiteful, judgmental, depressed, vulnerable, irresponsible, unworthy, undesirable wretches. We know it is true because we have the mistakes, cruelties, sins, and the opinions of a host of others to prove it. This “true me” is found just underneath the mask of the first circle, and it is so devastating to face up to or consider, that even though the upkeep of the total pretense is stealing our life, we keep doing it. Why? To admit it feels like relational, marital, personal, and/or professional suicide. So we “kill ourselves” fighting for our lives.

A few people (more and more all the time, in my opinion) get so sick and tired of this game that they will finally hear, somewhere and in some form, the message of Christ. And suddenly, they dare to hope. Even though it is a dream beyond dreams, this fake life isn’t cutting it and they will either have “more” or they will die seeing if it exists.

Those are the people, once they are serious about having life to the full, once they are willing to put the claims of Jesus Christ to the test, those are the people who finally shed the first circle and face all of the consequences of the dreaded second one. They stop pretending. They risk it all, and they expose their (perceived, mind you) true self. The horrifying, ugly, unacceptable, dirty, and sin-scarred self.

And when they do, they will be shocked when they survive it. This would be enough, mind you, enough to go on having realized that their mistakes do not kill them…their hiding them, denying them, and masking them does! It is a liberating, life-giving truth.

But what’s more, they will also find out (by using the same newfound sense of honesty and integrity that dismantled the outer circle) that their perception of the second circle as their true identity is equally unfounded. With the help of a fellowship of people who have committed to the same dramatic opting-out of the life-as-usual-game, and with the enlightenment of God Himself, they will joyfully find out that there is a truer truth.

They will find, down there past the pain, the third circle. The final and immovable truth about their identity. And what they will find is that they are quite naturally everything good that they were striving so hard to be.

In the opening poem of the Bible…God explains that He made mankind like God…in His own image. It then goes on to explain that Satan told mankind that to be like God, they merely needed to reach out and get it themselves. Do you see it? He promised something to man that man already was. Did man want to be “like God”? Absolutely! Did man need to strive in order to be so? Absolutely not! Brilliantly evil, this serpent was.

We’re still doing this today. We are all striving to be what it is that we already are. How silly would it be for my son Jakin to work really, really, really hard, for the rest of his life, to be a Mashburn? How insanely unproductive would it be for my daughter Callie to look at how much of a Mashburn her little brother Jakin is, and then work and wish to be half the Mashburn that he is. How needlessly tiring it would be for my son Shade to think he need to strive at all to find his identity as a Mashburn.

When I told her of her strength, her glow, her obvious love and powerful presence… she laughed, thinking she had me fooled. She thinks that the best my observation can be is an affirmation that she has done a good job keeping up the facade.

It is her that is fooled. I have been, too. You probably have too.

Another friend, one who was gracious enough to process this with me back in our twenties gave me a gift once, putting to words this concept of the Three Circles. It pretty much sums it up…and still sits framed on a shelf in my office.

So to my old friend Chris, and to my new friend yesterday, and to all of you my friends who are also gracious enough to process this life with me (and if you read all this, then you really are doing so!)…I want you all to know the truth. Read them slowly…maybe just one a day. Let their truth take over.

You are priceless. (Matt 10:31)

You are strong. (2 Cor 12:9-10)

You are forgiven. (Eph 1:7-8)

You are redeemed. (Gal 3:13-14)

You are worthy. (2 Thess 1:5)

You are dearly loved. (Col 3:12)

You are God’s masterpiece. (Eph 2:10)

You are God’s dwelling place. (1 Cor 3:16)

You are God’s image. (Gen 1:26-27)

You are God’s child. (Rom 8:15)

“Only let us live up to what we have already attained.” – Philippians 3:16

Making People Look Down

2009-03-20T15:13:00.001-07:00

When I was in Junior High, there was this guy named Kenneth. I didn't know him very well. Suffice it to say that in the social economy of my junior high school, Kenneth didn’t quite measure up to my status. I wasn’t all that high on the totem pole myself, but I was higher than Kenneth. We weren’t friends. We weren’t enemies. We just…weren’t. I’m not even sure why I knew his name.

One Sunday morning, I was sitting in the second story room of the old building at the church I grew up at with all of my youth group buddies in a Bible class. There were about 40 of us or so sitting along the walls of this odd-shaped room in chairs around the pool table, the foosball, and the Intellivision. The teacher had begun when a visitor kid opened the door, which made a distinct and loud “ka-thung” noise, making it impossible to show up late without everyone staring.

He came in looking at his feet, feeling awkward already, probably cursing his mom for deciding it was good idea to “try to find a church” for her little family. She was downstairs, no doubt, anonymously sliding into a back row chair of an adult Bible study that was in a real classroom where that would be possible…while he was stuck as the momentary center-of-attention for a bunch of strangers.

What could he do? Shutting the noisy door behind him, he lifted his brow just enough to scan the walls for the unlikely familiar face. Hoping to God, I’m sure, for at least a friendly one.

His eyes bounced around the room quickly at everyone elses…until they hit mine, which were staring back at him like he was some interesting zoo animal. That’s when I realized it was Kenneth.

Pause right here. How do I describe all that transpired in that moment? Our eyes had already met, so I couldn’t act like I didn’t notice him. My heart was immature, so I wouldn’t act like I recognized him and was glad he was there. On the contrary, for some reason I felt a sense of invasion. I didn’t say it out loud, but my emotional memory tells me that I was thinking something to the effect, “Who do you think you are? This is my turf. My home. My group. You’re from my other world, and just barely, at that.”

All that, back in that room, caused me to just look away. He had just allowed a glimmer of hope and recognition to ignite his face when he saw mine. The ends of his lips had just begun their journey upward to break the face open with a smile when I interrupted it by turning away. My insecurity in who I was, and my lack of understanding in what our group was supposed to represent as Christ followers, led me to deliver a pretty vicious message to the unsuspecting Kenneth: “I don’t claim you. I don’t want you. You are not welcome.”

That’s when Kenneth just looked down. He looked down and did his best to sit in the closest seat, blend into sheetrock, and be invisible.

It was brutal. Unnoticeable to anyone but us. But brutal.

This story with Kenneth isn’t over, it picks up a few days later back at school. But before I tell you that, let me tell you why I’m telling you.

I told this story a few weeks ago in a sermon I preached to my church family. I never like recounting this story, but have several times over the years to address what we are supposed to be to the world by showing what it isn’t. About 5 days after I shared this, while putting him to bed, my eight-year-old son started asking me a bunch of questions about that story (yes, he was listening).

He asked why I treated Kenneth that way. He asked what about Kenneth made me not like him. He asked what he had done to me to deserve it. He asked what happened to Kenneth in the rest of class? After class? Did the teacher talk to him? Did any of your friends?

I regularly ask my kids when I’m putting them to bed if they have any questions for me about anything at all. I’ve promised that I will always answer, and answer with the truth. So I was doing my best, diligently trying to answer his questions, and quite engrossed in doing so…when he interrupted me with one more. One that got to the heart of the matter…

“Dad, are you about to cry?” he asked as I shared.

“Well, Shade….no…I think I’m okay,” I replied.

Then he shook the earth. He said, “Because I am.”

I stopped cold to take in what my son was experiencing, having heard this story about his dad. His dad who speaks of love, coaches love, tries to love…especially the hurting, the lonely, and the outcast. His dad. Hurting someone. So brutally. What’s he supposed to do with that?

I took a deep breath. I turned my head on the pillow and looked at Shade, and sure enough a tear was welling up in the eye that I could see as he stared at the ceiling.

“Shade,” I said, “will you forgive me for treating Kenneth that way? I am so sorry.”

It would be beautiful if the story ended right here and he just said “yes,” and then threw our arms around each other, prayed, and went to bed with satisfied spiritual smiles on our faces. But that’s not what happened.

Instead of forgiving me effortlessly, he looked back at me, maybe a little hopeful about my reconnecting to my remorse, but mostly needing to stay in his own…that I have caused.

He said, “I don’t like making people look down.”

I agreed. I still don’t know if he was reflecting or preaching.

“Yes, dad, but can you find Kenneth? Do you know where he lives? Call him! Tell him you’re sorry! Make sure he’s okay!”

With sadness, I told him that I didn’t know where he lived, or even where he went to high school. I don’t even know his last name.

Then, sounding half-desperate, have authoritative, he exclaimed, “Find out!”

I told him I would try.

And I have. I’ve dug out my old Spring Woods Junior High annual and scanned every single picture of every student in the whole school. No Kenneth. I told him, but Shade and I are still working this out together. What can I do?

I’m proud of his sense of (in)justice. His determination that love should “find out!” His belief that love can. I don’t want to disappoint. This part is still playing out…

But back at school, in PE class, I walked into the gym on some kind of “free day”. There were a bunch of guys already in the gym throwing the football around, actively engaged with some sort of game that made it awkward for me to just jump in and participate. So I sort of made my way to a gym wall, wishing I was out there in the action. I scanned the crowd of guys out there, I’m sure with a look of hope and anticipation, hoping one of them would see me and say, “C’mon, Brian!”

A guy did see me…it was Kenneth. The tables were now overtly turned. The shoe was firmly on the other foot.

He saw me alright, and my desire to join in. He had the ball in his hands when our eyes met. I looked down. He motioned to the other guys to hold on as he started running my way.

“Payback time,” I remember thinking. Shuddering, really. He didn’t just look away like I did in this, his moment of retribution. He was coming over armed with his upper-hand to really make me pay. I deserved it and I knew it. I was brutal.

I saw his feet planted in front of me, and when I looked up, I saw a huge smile and the offer of the football.

“You wanna play a game of catch?” he asked, with a kindness and accent of some sort that I’ll never forget.

I was astonished. I couldn’t believe my ears. I had so clearly communicated rejection to this guy. So clearly begrudged him. So clearly denied him when it was in my power to offer friendship and belonging.

And he returned it with love. In a powerful, only-in-junior-high sort of way, Kenneth was offering Christ to me.

I made him say it again, even though I had heard him clearly, by saying, “What?” I just couldn’t believe my ears. I wanted to hear it again.

And he said it again. Tehn I took the ball, and a place on the floor, among brothers-for-a-moment, all because of Kenneth.

I’m happy to say that my life is now made up, almost exclusively, of finding “Kenneth’s” and not ever again, ever, with my beloved son as my witness, ever, with God helping me, never, ever…making them look down.

Now I know the joy that Kenneth felt back then. The joy of giving life away.

I’m sorry, Kenneth. Forgive me.

Through the Dark Mountains…

2009-03-03T13:51:00.001-08:00

There was a man. He liked rocks. He was walking. He saw a big rock. He sat on it and he picked a few pieces. The rock started to roll. He jumped off.

"I am sad," said the man.
"What is wrong?" said another man.
"I made a rock mad," said the man.
"Too bad," said the other man, "Will you be ok?"
"Yes," said the man.
"Have fun!" said the other man, and they played together, so the sad man was happy again and they found another rock. This time he did not pick pieces off the rock.
They lived happily ever after.

- A story written by my young son Shade, who's birthday is today

This past Sunday morning I spoke in front of a large crowd of Christ followers. I spoke of the heart’s desires…life, light, love...and where they each cross with eternity.

Simply put, I spoke of Heaven.

This was part 4 of 6 teachings based on the book Epic by John Eldridge, which is his summary of the "Story of God" found in the Bible.

My son Shade wrote the little story above and gave it to his mother and me a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue, and for no particular reason. When I saw the words, "They lived happily ever after," I asked him if I could read his story on the week that I would speak on the "happily ever after" found in Scripture...Heaven.

He said yes.

So this past Sunday morning, as my friend Doyle led our church in lively song about Heaven, I sat next to my son with my little Bible in hand, and his little story-page tucked in it. Shade saw it.

"Is today the day you're reading my story?" Shade asked. I told him it was.

He said that was cool, and then sat for a while as we sang, with a somewhat distant look. After a few minutes, he grabbed my Bible and pulled the story-page out. He looked up at me and boldly said, "I wanna read it to ‘em."

I'm sad to report that the words "Are you sure? In front of everyone?" leapt out of my mouth before I realized how discouraging they sounded. As unintentional as it was, I was highlighting the fear in his idea more than the courage.

"Yes," he said, with a tone and downcast eyes that betrayed that my words had shaken him. I tried to recover with the excitement that I was really feeling about the idea…

Pause. A few days ago as I was reading something, Shade came to me with seriousness in his eyes. "Dad?" he said to me, "I think I'm supposed to tell stories to people. How can I get started doing that?"

He already had some ideas: "Mom's about to start teaching Callie's class, maybe I could help her if she needed it. I could tell some stories, you know, from my life and stuff that would teach the kids about how to treat people. Or I could tell that story about you and Kenneth* (*I’m working on a post with that one) that you told." I couldn't have been more excited. When he saw my approval, he added, "Maybe I can help you sometimes when you're tellin' stories at church." I told him that would be a great idea.

Little did I know that in that pew this past Sunday morning, without any help from me, mind you, he was seeing an opportunity tucked in the pages of my Bible. His young heart was putting this moment together with what he had already identified as something he is “supposed” to do…and all on his own he reached for it. That little bit of silence between his noticing that I was using his story and his asking to be the one to tell it contained that all-too-familiar struggle of the heart between fear and courage. And isn’t that the struggle that always comes when the opportunity of doing what we feel called to do presents itself?

Back in the church pew, now, Shade's whole demeanor had changed because of what he had volunteered for. “How long?” he kept asking, nervously. As a preacher, I know the anxiety of which he speaks. And since I was in my own little weekly anxious world, I was little more help to him than to say, "In a minute! Shhh!"

Shortly before time for me to head up to the microphone, Shade grabbed my Bible again. He folded up his story-paper and put it back into the pages and set the closed Book down next to me. I leaned over to him, "Have you changed your mind?"

"I really want to do it, but I'm afraid. You just do it," Shade said. This time, his head-hanging was betraying the decision not to do it. He wanted to.

We were in the final approach. Doyle was worshipping through the song that also served as my cue. I knew that I was just about to need to go, but I finally tuned in completely to my boy's heart, and helped him delay the decision.

"Okay, buddy. Listen. I'm going to speak a little bit, and then pray. Right after I pray, I'm planning on reading your story. When I finish praying, as I'm introducing your story, I'll look at you. If you shake your head no, I'll read it. But if you nod yes, I'll call you up. Okay?"

He seemed relieved to have a little more time to decide (aren't we all?). But also relieved that there was a deadline, a time when he had to decide, and his dilemma would be over, one way or the other, and in the past (we often need that too, don't we?).

I added that he can be proud either way...that he is telling a story be it through his written or spoken words (That was my way of saying, "Be at peace, son. You are free. And you are already victorious. And I'm already proud of you”). I then did for him what he and all my kids do for me every week...I prayed in his ear for him and his "sermon".

So, I got up there, made some introductory remarks, and then bowed to pray.

I can only imagine what was going on in my son's head down there on that pew as I prayed. He knew that I would look at him right when it was over...that it would be decision time…the moment of truth.

I wonder how loudly the fear was speaking? You don't have to do this, Shade. You already wrote the story. It's enough for you to have it read by him. Just say no and the fear and nervousness is gone. No one will ever know the difference.

I wonder how loudly the courage was speaking? You don't have to do this, Shade, you get to. You already have identified a sense of desire for telling stories. You've already asked the really good question of how to go about getting started on that. Here it is before you. Right here. Right now. Don't be afraid. Just say yes. Walk into it.

I raised my head from the prayer, unfolded the notebook paper, and spoke the words "My son wrote a story..." as I looked over to my left to see the nodding head of my courageous son.

And with a secret, fatherly pride in my heart, I gladly continued my sentence with, "...a story that he is going to come up and read for you."

Afterwards, I went on making the points I wanted to make that related to the lesson, but I might as well have went on home. This was enough for me today. More than enough. A taste, methinks, of the very subject I was speaking of…Heaven.

The church family, loving family that they are to me and my family, applauded my son as he finished and sat down. I love them for that. For doing out loud what I was doing inside. Thanks to all of you who are reading this...for that.

At lunch, I spoke to my wife across the table within earshot of Shade. "Hey Babe, wasn't that awesome how Shade read his story this morning?"

"It was way awesome. And it was such a great story. I'm so proud of him for being so brave," she responded.

"Through the dark mountains," Shade interrupted.

He had my undivided attention. "'Through the dark mountains'?” I asked. “What do you mean by 'through the dark mountains'?"

You and I both know what he meant. He used his words, but he went on to explain the “dark mountains” of fear. The dark mountains beyond which are our truest heart’s desires…life, light, and love. They are the dark mountains that all must go through if they intend faithfulness to a calling. They are the dark mountains that are only conquered by walking courageously into your fears...like Shade did that morning. And I might add that it is a particularly special sort of courage at work when you have the option not to go, but go still.

As it turns out, Shade had read a story at school that had captured this simple, but deep, quandary common to us all. He had an image and a vocabulary with which to explain the feelings he was feeling, the battle he was inwardly fighting, and the opposition that stood between him and the life that his heart is longing for.

And this past Sunday morning, he went walked into them. The result? Yes, there was applause, affirmation, encouragement, approval, and even usefulness. And those are all great rewards when we go through the dark mountains, but beyond all that is the even sweeter satisfaction of knowing there is life on the other side of them. I'm not speaking of survival here. Mere survival is available on this side of the dark mountains. But life...life to the full...life that brings joy and satisfaction and adventure...that is only available for those precious few who go through.

Through the Dark Mountains.

Happy Birthday, Buddy!

Your Presence in the Present

2009-01-16T12:27:00.001-08:00

"When you are fully engaged in what you are doing your mind doesn't wander. You enjoy life. And you are happier and more effective. You are intent only on what is happening at that moment. And that focus and concentration leads to your success." - The Old Man, a sage in Spencer Johnson's book The Present

A friend of mine named Steve gave me this book back in April of 2005. He wrote this inscription in the front to me, and I share it now, almost 4 years later, because I long for it to be true today:

Brian - To you, my dear Brother in Christ.

To you who values the past without dwelling on it; who learns from it and humors those around you with its memories; but who refuses to live in it or be held captive by it.

To you who ponders, plans, prepares and studies for what lies ahead in the future, and yet, who wisely leaves it all up to God to direct his steps and those of his family into the future, knowing what certainly lies ahead for him and those he loves and cherishes; the ultimate reward of eternal life with the Father, the Son & Holy Spirit...all so good...

But, you, who lives with such passion for the present, because it is in that time frame of "now" that you live with such enthusiasm, joy, passion and servitude, because there is never another "now." You have discovered the power and potential of the present. Do wonders with this book as you share its meaning with others.

Full engagement in what I'm doing. Shew! What an elusive thing for me these days.

I have had moments and even season of life that I can look back on and see how this was a good description of me. And it is true, that they are the most joy-filled and productive times of my life. The funny thing is, I'm not aware of it when I'm doing it (a by-product, I think, of being fully engaged with what I'm doing), but I am hyper-aware of it when I am not.

I know, I know. Awareness is half the battle. True that. But the other half of the battle, to get back to living in the present, with whoever I am with, or with whatever I am doing, and nothing or no one else, is quite a battle indeed.

My attention on the present is viciously attacked by so many good things. For me, it's not the past that haunts me (with it's accompanying feelings of regrets, or guilt, or anger). Nor is it the future that distracts me (with it's temptation to get lost either in worry over it's uncertainty or my responsibility to plan and work towards making it better).

No, for me, the current attacks come from so many good choices that I have in which I could invest. And they come from multiple realms of priority.

* I could call a friend in need (I have plenty).

* I could call a friend not need (I have plenty of them too).

* Which friend should I call?

* Should I invest in grad school or not? If so where? What focus area would best serve God's will for my future?

* What is God's will for my future?

* Are there other alternatives to grad school (an academic track) that might be better for me (a more contemplative track)? Where would I begin discovering the options?

* I'd like to record an entry in one of my kid's journals. Which of my children's journals should I write in, and which story do I want to record?

* I could put some more time into my sermon for this week.

* Look at all the people on that prayer list...who, and how many, should I call? Visit?

* How's my wife's heart?

* Which elder should I call for lunch to see how they are doing, and how I might be able to help in their personal pursuit of our vision?

* I could always use some shepherding as well.

* Which of my co-workers could I get some time with?

* I'm performing a wedding of a close friend soon. I'd love to dream a little for that.

* Do I take the sabbatical that is available to me this year? Do I need it? What will my focus be through it this time?

* What about the next sermon series after this one? That needs some planning and thought.

* I really should keep up with my physical exercise.

* Whoa...just remembered that my checkbook needs balancing and some bills need paid.

* It's been weeks since I took some time alone with God down in the canyon.

* I've got 3 incredibly helpful books I'm in the middle of.

* I'd like to arrange some time with one of my kids tonight after I get home.

* I've got some special company coming in to stay with us for the long weekend that I'll get to spend time with. So which value can wait to be expressed or acted upon until after they leave? Better do that now.

* I have at least 4 of these blog pieces begun and not finished in my draft box. I'd really like to see each one through.

I'm not complaining here, mind you (who could, with such a blessed 'to-do' list as that). I'm merely reporting.

And in all honesty, I'm probably writing this so that I can exercise my need to be fully present with this idea that I need to be fully present.

May God bless us with full engagement in all that we hold dear, one thing at at time.

The Beauty that God Establishes - Happy Birthday, Callie.doc

2009-01-08T13:21:00.001-08:00

“A daughter is a gift of love.” – Author Unknown

I celebrated my wife two days ago on our anniversary, and today I get to celebrate the other girl in my life on her birthday...my sweet 7-year-old daughter...Callie Jakin Mashburn.

Some of you might not know that that the name "Callie" means "Beauty." Fewer still probably know that "Jakin" means "God Establishes."

That is my sweet C.J. - she is the "Beauty that God Establishes."

This morning, as she ran over next to my bed, I rose up to my elbows and asked her if I could ask her something. With that big smile, she said yes.

“Can I come have lunch with you today at school?”

Now maybe the day will come when this is THE LAST thing my daughter wants…to be seen with her dad at school (wow, I’m really looking forward to that, let me tell ya). But for now, I get to enjoy her sheer excitement about such a simple gesture of time together.

With her mouth opened wide, and an uncontrollable jumping up and down seizure, she said “yes!” interrupted abruptly with the very serious request (demand, maybe) of “I want Chic-Fil-A”.

I left the office at 11:15. Got her food, and was there a couple of minutes before her class would arrive in the cafeteria. Her big brother Shade was at a special dining table, decorated and joined by 5 other students up on the stage, with their own dining music. He had purchased this special lunch with his “Belmar Bucks” (dollars he earns at Belmar Elementary for good behavior).

Then in came Callie. She grabbed my hand and took me right over to our own table. I tell ya, when I slow down and look in the face of my daughter, I’m just floored with awe. She is so beautiful. Inside and out. Her heart bubbles with excitement and energy. Her deep red hair is so sharp, noticed by everyone (a teacher had to stop and touch it today as she passed the table), and frames such deep eyes, and a photo frame cute smile. When I slow down and look at Callie, I’m just so honored to get to be with her.

We had a lively conversation, ranging from the sleepover b-day party she’s having tomorrow night, to what she did in class this morning, to how much she likes her teacher Mrs. Embry. And almost as if the stars are just aligned for her benefit today, her big brother descends from his high and honorable perch up on the stage just to come over and get Callie’s attention. He stands her up and gives her a big hug and says “Happy Birthday, Callie”. Wow. Big brother, 2 years older, in front of God and all his classmates, hugging his sis.

She was already glowing, but now she just sat down and slowly reached for her next chicken nugget with a quiet smile and sober radiance that made me think she was enjoying a feeling that she couldn’t put words to. The feeling of assurance…confirmation of what mom and dad try to tell her all the time…evidence that is making her believe, if only for a moment, a truth that is assaulted viciously all the time…“I must really…no, really…I must really, actually be…special.”

Yes, yes you are, Callie.

I couldn’t resist. I said, “You know you are very special, right, Callie?”

She cocked her head sideways with a coy smile and said, “Yes.”

I love you very much, Callie. Thank you for letting me accompany you on another year of adventure, growth, and love.

Her

2009-01-06T08:45:00.001-08:00

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us." - St. John

"Love is the fulfillment of the law." - St. Paul

"When you are in love you can't fall asleep because reality is better than your dreams." - Dr. Seuss

One of the ways that I learned what love is came to me over a two year period that started about 15 years ago.

I met a beautiful girl with flowing red hair and a dynamite smile that literally sparkled and lit up the room. And it was in a very energetic room full of 100's of very loving people when I did meet her, and even in this impressive collection of human beings, her lively and loving spirit stood out. She was captivating.

I was just one of the 100's of people in the room to her, as far as I knew. But that was only as far as I knew.

Little did I know that something special was happening to me. I didn't know, because what was happening to me was happening inside of her. Stirring inside of her, without me knowing, was a pooling of all of her strength and resolve, all of her kindness, and all of her capacity to give sacrificially. All the ingredients of this powerful force for good was collecting in her heart and being directed at me, deciding to give the greatest gift that she could give, and that I could ever receive...her love…hoping, but with no strings attached.

I don't know why it happened, but she did something that to this same beautiful girl continues to do to this day.

She chose me.

Wherever that comes from, that capacity in her to choose me, to lay down her life for me, I will always, always, always be grateful to God.

Over the next two years she continued to choose me when I would give her no guarantee of my choosing her. She committed to love me faithfully without demanding that I know whether I would "end up" making the same commitment to loving her. When I finally did, I realized that she had been my greatest lesson ever on what loving like Christ loves looks like in the flesh.

With my love and capacity to choose now awakened, through her patience and consistence, thirteen years ago today, she legally committed to me in the covenant of marriage. She submitted to all the laws of the land and signed all the legal documents that contractually bind her to me. Lawfully, she is my partner in this thing called marriage. To some, the idea of this legal binding looks and sounds quite intimidating.

But not to her.

Her love was already so much larger, so much more committal, more risky...it was already so altogether superior in cost and risk compared to what was being demanded by the law in marriage...that she hardly noticed it. Her love continues to this day to be the fulfillment of the law...and so much more. Laws are just plain painful if they are not fulfilled in and by love.

This beautiful girl, Carrie, chooses me and the costly, dangerous, invested, non-routine sort of life that I seem to need to live every day, in so many ways, large and small (and the small ways are really the largest). She dreams big, loves large, gives fearlessly, creates purposefully and makes so many of my ideas take actual, practical shape in reality. She’s my inspiration.

Sort of because I'm a freak, I do these visualization things, where "I imagine suffering the greatest losses that I can imagine". (NOTE: I live in a life where pain, loss, change, & tragedy are commonplace...and I (sometimes) watch people who react to it (understandably) quite poorly. Who am I to think that I am exempt from such loss? In life, that potential is always there. I’d rather be prepared for it emotionally, even over and above financially. I guess I visualize it because if any of it ever happens, I don't want it to be the first time I've considered having to deal with it.)

Whenever I'm moved to visualize the sudden loss of my beautiful Carrie, at the part when I turn to who it is I look to for comfort, understanding, compassion, support, help, challenge, inspiration, service, listening, and a "I-will-die-here-with-you-in-your-pain" kind of love...she's not there, because that person is Carrie.

It's usually at night when I engage in this spiritual work...and I always end it compelled to either 1) open my eyes and look at Carrie sleeping or 2) reach over and gently touch her cheek in the darkness, or both…grateful for the grace of God. See, while I believe in His love enough to know that I would survive, and that even through the great difficulty of her loss could even thrive, in her absence, I’m grateful to God that for yet another day He has decided to show me, once again, what love looks like through her presence.

To have a real live woman who believes in you, who sees more deeply into your heart than you do sometimes, and can see only the good, not because that is all there is, but because she chooses to…is a dream. And it is a dream that makes you become what she sees.

My life when I am awake is better than any dream I’ve ever had when asleep.

Thank you, Carrie. I love you. Happy Thirteenth Anniversary.

Only the Details Have Changed...Have I?

2008-12-31T07:50:00.001-08:00

A woman celebrating 24-years drug-free stood up at a Narcotics Anonymous meeting that I was attending with a very good friend of mine (who was himself celebrating a courageous 90-days of life drug-free).

She shared that she started using chemical substances when she was 15, and had walked into the life-rescuing doors of NA when she was 21. And it had hit her that morning...she has been sober 4 times as long as she was a user. Cool birthday, huh?

But what cut me to the heart, causing my own self-examination, was what she shared next.

She said, "I was thinking about how screwed up I was when I walked in these doors 24 years ago. And tonight, all I can think about is how screwed up I still am now. Don't get me wrong, the message we live works (if you work the message), but what I am opening up to in this realization is that I don't have a drug problem (he who has ears, let him hear), I have a living problem."

She said some more stuff, but I was drifting off on the truth of this for me. Wow, me too. I have a living problem.

This all came to mind today because I opened up my journal archives and found this little piece below from about this time 4-years ago in 2004. I'm sad to say that I'm still a novice at the inner life. And I'm sad to say that while I have taken some ground on the list of outward things that were a distraction then then, I've replaced them with what I consider in some ways to be an even "shallower" list now.

I want to eat what I want to eat, with no adverse consequences.

I want to change the world by doing what I'm doing, with no major changes.

I want to rest when I'm tired, with no exceptions.

I want to exercise if I feel like it, and still progress physically.

I want to have oneness with God, and I want it to come effortlessly.

I want my wife and kids to think I'm the greatest, whether I am or not.

I want intimate, mutually transforming friendships, and I want them to conveniently fit into my routine.

I'm still a novice at the inner life, which I must admit that even the dabbling that I have done in it has produced the greatest treasures and advancements of my life. But when I look at how focused on external things I was then, and how much I'm focused on external things now...I realize...right along with my sister at the NA meeting...

I have a living problem.

I love you all. And most of you know me enough to know that what was true then is still true now...and paradoxical and difficult as this living in two worlds is...I love this.

Here's the piece from 2004...

“Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place.” – King David

“Spiritual people can quickly withdraw inwardly because they never totally give themselves over to outward things.” – Thomas a’ Kempis

“People are hindered and distracted in proportion to how much they involve themselves in external matters.” – Thomas a’ Kempis

“In my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body.” – St. Paul

“With people, there is the way things really are, and there is the way things are said or seem to be, and they rarely match. Some understand this reality in themselves enough to notice the difference between the two in others.” – Yours Truly

“Your beauty should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.” – St. Peter

I am a novice at the inner life. I am still too focused on sharing what I find there immediately with those around me to stay there long enough to enjoy its treasures simply for myself and my God. I am still given over to outward things. Namely…

I want to be respected by people I respect.

I want to be trusted by people I love.

I want to be physically comfortable.

I want to be emotionally comfortable.

I want to be a doer.

I want to see results of my effort with my eyes.

I want to make an eternal difference in people.

All of these things take effort. Outward effort. And frankly, they are easier treasures to get than the inward ones.

What is your list? What are the outward things that are so worthwhile that you see the inward life as something that is “impractical” or “only meant for a few”?

I’m a novice at the inner life, like I said, and while I’m drawn to it these days, I’m scared of what it will cost. My extroversion? My energy? My playfulness? My people skills? These are fears that keep me from getting before God every day. My flesh says that the inner life is boring, no fun, stoic, and reclusive behavior. But my spirit jumps to life when I “go there”, has fun, is fully engaged, and breaths new life and love into my relationships “out here”.

We’re stuck between two worlds in this life, aren’t we? I love this.

Semper Fi

2008-12-19T06:47:00.001-08:00

"I've started realizing that boot camp is about challenging you beyond where you've ever been challenged, in every aspect, and instilling in you the drive to push through it." - my friend Kevin Parish, in a letter he wrote to me from his training to be a United States Marine

"So far, I've been more tired, more sore, more frustrated than I think I ever have been, but I'm starting to feel like there's not much they could throw at us that I couldn't handle. It's pretty amazing." - My friend Kevin...a little bit later in the same letter

Kevin has been a special gift to me from God since I met him when he was in elementary school. He continues to be one to me now.

He speaks of and understands boot camp as I desire to speak of and understand life.

I feel like life is about challenging us beyond where we've ever been challenged, and that generally speaking, there are two kinds of people: the kind that do all that they can to avoid such tiring, soreness-producing, frustrating circumstances and those that embrace the circumstances and if they are wise, learn to love the challenges to the point of even being eager for them...signing up for them when given the opportunity.

If someone can embrace life on these terms (as a challenge to shape and mature them), then they avoid suffering far more effectively than those who actually make the avoidance of suffering (their comfort) their goal.

It's so ironic.

Kevin did that, in a way, by signing up for the Marines. He chose suffering. Sure didn't have to. He has a college degree, is very gifted and intelligent, has a loving mom and dad that care about him deeply, and resources, relationships and talents that give him many options. But he chose the Marines, with eyes wide open, for exactly what he is getting...circumstances that challenge him to mature, be shaped, and grow.

I agree with him. It's pretty amazing.

He told me there are 11 Leadership Principles that drive the U.S. Marines training philosophy:

1. Be technically and tactically sound.

2. Know yourself and seek self-improvement

3. Know your Marines and look out for their welfare.

4. Keep your Marines informed.

5. Set the example.

6. Insure that the task is understood, supervised, and accomplished.

7. Train your Marines as a team.

8. Make sound and timely decisions.

9. Develop a sense of responsibility in your subordinates.

10. Employ your command in accordance with its capabilities.

11. Take responsibility for your actions.

These principles are nothing but a list of principles for the casual reader of them. But to Marines, who have chosen to be trained in the fire of these principles, they run very deep. They are actually adjusting their lives, feelings, motivations, intentions, and perspective on everything in order to conform to them.

As I read through them, I realized I could probably find a Bible verse, if not an actual teaching of Jesus himself, that pretty much embodies each principle. Those verses are nothing but a list of verses for the casual reader of them. But to Christ-followers, who chosen to be trained in the fire of Christ's values, the run very deep. They actually adjusting their lives, feelings, motivations, intentions, and perspective on everything in order to conform to them...to him.

Semper Fi means "always faithful". It's a mantra of the Marines.

I'm not a Marine. But I'm one with the intensity of the Marines for their values and to their values. My values come from Christ...and I'm striving, also, to be always faithful.

Semper Fi.

Are they Christian's or not?

2008-12-11T11:20:00.001-08:00

"Pakistan and India have spent so much time disputing their borders in Kashmir that they don't have the wherewithal to learn how to operate as neighbors. If they would learn to operate as neighbors, they would have the relationship with which to resolve the disputed borders." - Yours truly, after reading an article in Time magazine yesterday on the issue

"Love your neighbor as yourself." - Jesus, when summarizing the point of all of God's laws

"Who is my neighbor?" - a listener of Jesus, asking the fair and obvious next question.

"Everyone." - My summary of Jesus' answer to that listener

If a group of people in Zimbabwe are feeding the widows and orphans of their nation, preaching the name of Jesus Christ, and then bowing down to Allah 5 times a day in the direction of Mecca for prayer...are they Christian's or not?

If a group of people in Nepal are giving to the poor and needy, living and preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ, and hanging up prayer flags daily to pray to the Hindu god Shiva...are they Christian's or not?

If a group of people in China are spreading the message of Jesus Christ house to house, depending on God in prayer, but do not sing songs to God in their worship gatherings...are they Christian's or not?

If a group of people in Egypt live perfectly moral and upright lives, and do everything they can find in the Bible what the first century church did during their worship gatherings, and are careful to do nothing more or less, and do so faithfully, but never speak of Jesus Christ to anyone but each other...are they Christian's or not?

If a group of people in Amarillo meet weekly in order to share each other's stories for purpose of knowing one another deeply enough to take off the masks and help each other become more like Christ, but they never sing at their gatherings, take the Lord's supper, and sometimes they don't even pray...are they Christian's or not?

"Who is my brother?" is one of the titles of a book written by a wonderful man in the fellowship of Churches that I call home. The title articulates a question that has dominated the minds of my "tribe" of Christ followers (and others as well) for many, many decades. It seems to me that we have "disputed our borders" with such zeal and commitment that we have an undeveloped (at least underdeveloped) capacity for being neighbors.

I'm totally done with that, in all honesty. Maybe a better way to say it, I'm free from all that.

I call all human beings my brothers and sisters. I spend zero time trying to treat anyone as anything other than family (yes, in Christ). Every human I meet is at a remarkably different level of awareness about our oneness in Christ, and this affects greatly how they live, how they respond to my love and acceptance, and what the parameters of our relationship ends up looking like practically in the day to day.

I love them all the way I want to be loved. Looking for the good and true in them, finding our common ground there (no matter how small or hidden, it is there), enjoying the fellowship that comes from that, and then letting our differences be explored by each other as we live and pursue life to the full.

The questions "Are they Christian's or not" or "Who is my brother?" -- questions that have been the subject of countless debates, tens of thousands of hours of back-breaking Bible study, the source of an embarrassingly large amount of disunity and division among well-intentioned Christ followers -- as it turns out, are questions whose answers are COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY TO KNOW and USELESS in following Christ, in sharing Christ, and in ushering in the Kingdom of Christ.

Who knew?

We can debate this all we want (and I have within me more zealously than I ever with another human being), but I have lived both lives. And I can tell you this - the life I lived that thought it necessary to distinguish between "Christian or not" left me in the company of Christians debating it. The life I now live in which I spend zero time figuring that out, and all my time loving all people as brothers and sisters in Christ, leaves me meeting lost people (in and outside the church) who are VOLUNTEERING to learn the message of Christ. Seriously, there are some weeks that I meet a new a person who is looking for life every day. I'm not exaggerating.

And I'll tell ya...the Bible's message starts really jumping out at me when I live this way. It is humbling. It is lively. It is the good fight. It is grace.

So, my call of the day to the world of Christians - bypass all unnecessary questions and ask the one that will put you in alignment with the God of the Universe, who's agenda is to break into the this world of people and rescue their hearts from darkness (which is very real) and bring them into light (which is also very real) - ask the question, "Who am I to love as a brother today?"

Social Praying vs. Social Drinking

2008-11-05T08:23:00.001-08:00

Author's Note: I'm doing a sermon series on Sunday's about prayer. This week, I'm going to be talking about Jesus' claim concerning praying with other people, or in other words "social prayer". The term made me think of "social drinking", and then the following was what came out of me for a bulletin article. But I decided that it sounded too much like an article about drinking than prayer, so instead of just deleting it, I decided to send it to you for your consideration and feedback. Enjoy.

Eph 5:18 – “Do not use wine for something that the Spirit of God can do better.” – Paul, in Ephesians 5:18 (BRV – Brian’s Revised Version)

You've heard of the term “social drinking”? It’s a word that is used, mostly by Christians (to distinguish themselves in their use of alcohol from those who use it to get drunk), but also by alcoholics (to discuss their own capacity or incapacity to be around people who drink without taking one themselves). Drunkenness is prohibited specifically by the writers of scripture, and therefore, so the thinking goes, is prohibited in the lives of Christians. Drinking socially, however, is not specifically condemned (and is even exemplified in scripture) and therefore is considered “permissible.”

I wouldn't argue with that. Technically speaking.

But Andrew Murray observes that “So many Christians imagine that everything that is not positively forbidden and sinful is permissible to them. So they try to retain as much as possible of this world with its property and enjoyments. The truly consecrated soul, however, is like a soldier who carries only what is needed for battle.”

Oddly enough, while so many Christians defend their right to indulge in (moderately, of course) this world's “property and enjoyments” freely, boldly protecting (if not promoting) their right to do so, they oftentimes take issue with the suggestion that they should freely take Heaven’s “property and enjoyments” and expand them, too, into all arenas of life.

Social prayer is one of those things. It is amazing to me how many Christ followers are self-conscious, some to the point of thinking themselves incapable, about praying together. They’ve deemed their prayer life a private thing, which is true, but it is not the whole truth. So, the irony that some Christians practice social drinking in front of the world feeling as if it is faithfulness to Christ will not practice social prayer, even with their spouses, let alone with fellow believers, and yet still feel faithful to Christ.

I’m not trying to say that social drinking “is a sin” as much as I am saying it is an entanglement with the worldly way of life that many Christians are uncomfortably bold about. Additionally, I’m not even trying to say anything about social drinking as much as I am trying to promote social praying.

Why? Because Jesus gave a special promise for the united prayer of two or three who agree in what they ask. He said, “Again, I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by My Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in My name, there am I with them.”

Oh, that Christians would be more prone to deem their drinking the private thing, rather than something to fellowship around with other believers, and then move prayer to the status of a social thing around which they enjoy their time together.

How I Vote

2008-11-04T07:31:00.001-08:00

I asked my son Jakin (5 years old) today at the Bread Shop if he knew who he wanted to be president, as we ate our slices of cinnamon chip bread with butter and honey. He said confidently that he did. I asked him who? He answered....

"John Bush."

I laughed out loud. Partly because my five year old boy has a strong political opinion, with conviction in his voice. Partly because if reporters had been there to record it, I could imagine the Democrats making a political commercial that said, "See...even a 5 year old boy knows that a vote for John McCain is a vote for 4 more years of Bush!" And I could see the Republicans making one that said, "See...he's already half-way towards the right decision at only 5 year old!"

Sheesh.

I don't usually vote. I pray, which I believe is a far more powerful influence on the outcome of the election than my vote, and it also allows for my 1) humility to be exerted in not knowing who would be better for Christ's Kingdom to be advanced, 2) laziness in being a tad uninformed about the men and issues and relative importance of each concerning my freedom to live for Christ day in and day out, and 3) passionate desire to care deeply about my country and direction it goes, without arrogantly asserting that I should know.

Many decry my morality in not voting. "What would happen if every Christian had your attitude, and didn't vote?" I got asked this year. My answer? "If every Christian skipped voting, and prayed to God with as much activism and zeal as many do with their political activism, what I think would happen is that we would change the world for Christ with more vigor and effectiveness than any US election every could."

In Ed Fudge's excellent grace mail on the subject (copied below), he articulates well much of how I feel. He votes. I don't. Another example of people having deep philosophical agreement that results in different outcomes. But for what it is worth, "My name is Brian Mashburn and I approve this message."

>>>From Edward Fudge on 11-2-08:

"This Tuesday, November 4, 2008, millions of Americans will go to the polls and register their choices for President and Vice-President. For the first time ever, voters will choose between two sitting U.S. Senators for President, neither of whom was born within the continental United States. A number of gracEmail subscribers have asked my political opinions; others have kindly sent me theirs. And several, from both ends of the political spectrum, are so confident of God's will that there is nothing left to discuss.

Today, most Christians in the USA consider voting to be a moral duty, unaware that notable believers from Tertullian (2nd century) to David Lipscomb (20th century) have taught that Christians ought to have no part in earthly government whatsoever. My own father held that view, which I respect but do not share. On the other hand, my father's father, an Alabama sharecropper, was almost a Yellow Dog Democrat (one who would vote for a yellow dog if it ran on the Democratic ticket). Almost -- but not quite. In 1928, faced with the choice between presidential candidates Herbert Hoover (Republican) and Al Smith (Democrat, but also Roman Catholic), his other prejudices prevailed and he stayed home altogether.

As this Election Day approaches, room does remain for careful thought. We had as well acknowledge it -- millions of intelligent, conscientious Christians throughout the United States will pray for divine wisdom this Tuesday, search their hearts for God's will, then mark their ballots in opposing columns. These thoughtful believers all understand the need to make judgments informed by scriptural principles. The fact is that when they read the Bible, different things stand out. No political party or candidate measures up to all of God's standards. Every political option is less than perfect. Because believers prioritize differently those biblical principles they share in common, and because they relegate biblical duties differently as between the individual and the state, whenever these believers attempt to discuss specifics, they usually talk past each other.

But there are some matters on which we can all agree. God rules the world, and -- whether through our vote or in spite of it -- governments rise and fall as he ordains (Dan. 4:32; Rom. 13:1-2). Regardless of our political opinions, as believers we are commanded to pay our taxes, to render honor to those holding office (Rom. 13:6-7; 1 Pet. 2:13-17) and to pray for all those in authority (1 Tim. 2:1-4). It is wrong to speak evil of rulers (2 Peter 2:9-10). Any nation that fears the Lord will reap blessing, and any country that ignores or defies God will pay a price (Prov. 14:34; Psalm 2:1-12; Rev. 18:1-24). And, when all is said and done, our citizenship is in heaven -- wherever and whenever we happen to live on this earth (Phil. 3:20-21; Acts 17:24-27).

Copyright 2008 by Edward Fudge. This gracEmail may be reproduced or remailed without further permission but only in its entirety, without change and without financial charge. Visit our website here or go to www.EdwardFudge.com.<<<

Man-Group

2008-10-31T10:18:00.001-07:00

"You pray for me, then I'll pray for you, you pray for me, then I'll pray for you." - My son Jakin, to his buddy, pretty much laying out the greatest plan for friendship and brotherhood that I've ever heard.

This last Tuesday night, a group of about 35 guys, representing at least 7 different men's groups, gathered in my basement to celebrate, remember, re-connect with, and be inspired by Christ. It was a great time. We sang, shared, ate, confessed, laughed and prayed together. The connections we made to each other, to God, and to what we are about still has me on cloud nine.

And what we are about is this: we meet together with a few other men in order to take the masks off and help each other become more like Christ. It is a fellowship of fearless friendships.

My youngest son Jakin (5) was hangin' around Tuesday afternoon while I was arranging the basement with some simple chairs, and when I set out a small table with some loaves of bread and drink. I didn't think he was paying much attention.

But the next day, my wife called me from the house. where she was hangin' with Jakin and one of his best buddies, Jake. She called to inform me that the two boys were downstairs in the basement. My son Jakin had come in with Jake and asked for chunks of the leftover bread from the night before and for "two cups of juice". Then Carrie asked what he wanted them for...

My little boy informed her that he and Jake were he headed down to the basement to pray.

While Carrie prepared their sacred meal, Jakin laid out the plan to Jake. "Okay, when we get down there, you pray for me, I'll pray for you, then you pray for me, and I'll pray for you."

And they did.

After Jake got picked up by his mom, Carrie asked Jakin what they prayed for. He told her, "Jake thanked God that I was his friend, I prayed for Jake, and the bread and for God's blessing. And for none of to get sick. Then we played."

That's pretty much what I do in the basement with my buddies on Tuesday nights, too.

Thattaboy, Jakin. Thattaboy, Jake.

One of my buddies from Tuesday nights, Shane, brought his teenage son with him for the first time this past Tuesday. He told me that while he and his son Eastland were leaving, his youngest son Baylor (also 5) asked if he could come. Shane let him down gently, but Baylor, of course, persisted. So Shane told him, "you can do your own group, Baylor." Baylor, who calls it "man-group", hasn't stopped talking about it ever since. He started listing his 5-year-old band of brothers that he would invite right away (and I was so happy to hear that Jakin was on his list).

Thattaboy, Baylor.

I told Jakin that he needed to call up Baylor and invite him into his man-group with he and Jake, and Jakin said, "Okay. Actuwawey, tell Baylor he can come over and meet with us every day."

Thattaboy, Jakin.

Eastland, Shane's oldest son, as they were going home started talking about what they just experienced, and Eastland said that a group of Christian brothers that he had just started meeting with the week before could possibly be his version of what his dad had.

Thattaboy, Eastland.

Wow. What I wouldn't have done to have been a part of the kind of real fellowship, brotherhood, and the mutual fighting for each other's hearts that I am a part of now way back when I was their age. Of course, I didn't know what I didn't know back then.

But I know now. I know now that "church" is made up of people in real relationship with each other prompted by their mutual pursuit of actually shaping their lives to look more like Christ's.

I know now that "church fellowship" is the kind of deep, penetrating friendships that goes down below the surface of things to the "things behind the things"...down to the very heart...where the realm of the Kingdom of God resides.

I know now that "church service" is what I offer to people when I offer them my life for the purpose of helping them become more like Christ in theirs.

And, please God, let me and my brothers be teaching our kids how to live these things early.

"Making it happen" vs. "Letting it happen"

2008-10-22T07:08:00.001-07:00

"As soon as you trust yourself - deeply and truly, based on humility, not pride - you will know how to live." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"Am I going to die?" - My son, Shade, in the midst of a new, painful, and uncomfortable experience driving to the E.R. after falling and hitting his head

"There are many, many days when my work is simply to accept, bear, and endure all things, while continuing to believe (in Him) and hope (for another), no matter what - days when nothing seems to have a place, point, or purpose, when all around me seem desperately lost and screaming, either giving up or lashing out." - Jim Spivey

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." - 1 Corinthians 13:7

One of the epic struggles of my life has been between the "make it happen" vs.. the "let it happen" approaches to things.

Having been a card-carrying member of the former, and having been totally taken out by it, I had to (painfully) let it go. It was stealing life from me.

And now being totally sold out to the the latter, and learning every day a little bit more of what that means, I'm so grateful to God...

* For Christ's example of it.

* For how much simpler it is.

* For how much more effective it is.

* For how it gives me something to die for that matters.

* That in my dying, I find the life I was always trying to "make happen".

Some think that a "letting it happen" lifestyle means to been apathetic, when it actually means humbly caring with your whole person without the need to control.

Some think that a "letting it happen" lifestyle means to be a lazy do-nothing, when it actually means "being with" the pain of the world as it happens every day without need to escape it.

Some think that a "letting it happen" lifestyle means running from responsibility, when it actually means to take full responsibility for "staying in the pain of yourself and others" with nothing to lean on or offer but hope.

Some think that a "letting it happen" lifestyle means being an inappropriately passive human being that ends up as a doormat of sorts, useless in fighting for or defending (personal or global) justice, when it actually means to lay down the sword of "forcing" things "because it's right" and picking up the much weightier, more powerful sword of "winning" people "because of love".

We all lack imagination enough to distinguish between the two, and it has been my constant call to sit in this space with people while we figure it out together. And I'm totally clear that it is much more "for me, from God" than it is "for others, from me".

How many times and how many people, after "hitting their heads", totally disoriented by the new and uncomfortable experience they are encountering, ask some form of the question that my son asked on the way to the hospital, "Am I going to die?"

"No, buddy. Your not going to die," I told him in the car, selfishly grateful that it was true.

His job in that car was to just "let it happen" - the pain, the disorientation, the dependence on others, and ultimately, the care, the healing, the restoration, and total awareness of the lessons that come from the experience.

It takes a profound humility to "let things happen"...to bear with, endure, hope and believe all things...and to not let fear for our lives keep us from it. It's costs us everything, and the price is so worth it.

It's not what he needed to hear at the time, but I can hear the echo of a line from my favorite movie of all time, Braveheart, as I write this email, when William Wallace says, "All men die. Not all men truly live."

And Jesus, right behind that, saying, "Whoever loses his life will find it."

I love you.

Giving Away the Best Possible Life

2008-10-17T08:46:00.001-07:00

“What would you like me to do for you, son?” – The question God asked me this weekend.

“Make me a powerful multiplier of groups who live Christ’s life together.” – What I want God to do for me.

I have a life that I want others to have.

I don’t mean that I think I have “arrived” at some pinnacle of perfection.

I don’t mean that I want others to do what I am externally doing with my life.

I don’t mean that my life is easy. Or without temptation. Or absent of difficulty.

But I have a life that I want others to have.

It is deep in my heart, and I long for others to experience it. It can (inadequately) be described as a peacefully intense love for God and an intensely peaceful love for people. It is so much more than that, but words escape me.

It’s an ironic life, too. Because it allows for my imperfections, for me to be an unfinished man, without my using them as an excuse to do nothing, or feel hopeless, unworthy or unqualified. Since it is primarily inward, it provides an experience of joy no matter what I choose to do externally with my life. And best of all, it provides a peace (that passes understanding, maybe?) no matter what temptations or difficulties come my way.

It is a life of love.

And I love this life.

And I want it for every other human being on the planet.

And I labor to give it away daily. It costs me everything, and it pays me back in everything that matters.

It gives me a deeply personal relationship with God that, even when I exert all the energy of my heart, soul, mind, and strength, its riches are not depleted. What’s more, it gives me deeply personal relationships with people around me who I would die for and who would die for me (Jesus says there is no love greater than this…no wonder it is so satisfying). Better yet, I have people that I would live for and who would live for me (which is really what Paul means by “dying daily”).

I can safely say that know people, and I am fully known.

The freedom and security in such depth of relationship, both with God and with people, is staggering.

And I want it for everyone.

I live for God and with God. And I live for people and with people.

I am daily being impacted for good and daily making an impact for good.

It is quite simply, in my humble opinion, the best possible life.

It is the life of Christ.

And I shamelessly want to be a powerful multiplier of fellowships who live it, are learning to live it better, and giving it away to others.

For a long time I’ve asked God “how?” How do I best pass this way of life on to the multitudes that need it?

But when Jesus asked me this what I wanted from him, I didn’t ask how. I just asked him to do it.

So I’m listening and working for this, and full of faith that it will happen...and excited to see what happens.

When I came home Sunday night, my kids were sleeping soundly, and my wife was in the living room with her intimate sisterhood…girls who are becoming more like Christ together. She greeted me sweetly and with a very knowing look told me a brief story about how my oldest son (8 years old) decided to pick up a piece of paper and write down a bunch of his favorite things. She handed this too me…

Of course, my face beamed at the whole thing, but my heart gently leapt inside my chest when I read the bottom about his hero. It was a mixture of deep satisfaction and hope, but also of sobering responsibility and fear.

My wife then said, “After he wrote that and was going to bed, he said, ‘I want to write one more thing, then I’ll go to bed, I promise.’ You have to go check it out…he left it on the desk next to his bed.”

Excited, I made my way to his dimly lit bedroom where he was peacefully sleeping, and I grabbed the little slip of paper he left under his pencil on his little desk. I choked up as I read…

“The life,” he said. Not life…but “the life”.

Now I know he’s 8. There will be a season, if not longer, where he won’t feel this way. Not looking forward to it, but eager to persevere through it and learn from it. But for now, in the quiet of my son-turning-young-man, I fall on my knees in gratitude and hope that Carrie and I live “the life” in a way that this note captures my kids’ hearts now and when they are old…come what may.

I prayed… “Please, Father, let this be so…in my wife and kids first, and then through our family to the world…show me how to stay in, teach, and multiply “the life.”

A Sacred Weekend

2008-09-23T12:17:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting in an airport just a few hours away from my reunion with my family, and just a few hours removed from finishing a weekend retreat with about 100 students from Pepperdine University.

It was a great weekend for me personally for at least a half dozen reasons:

They wanted me to share about following Jesus - pretty much the only thing I feel passionate enough to talk about
This is my first "speaking engagement" in a long time, and I re-engaged my old ego-based demons associated with that - quite the humbling experience
I got to engage in toil side-by-side with a sister-in-arms that I really respect, who has honored and encouraged me by being attentive to my life-long journey - and I got to see and participate in a work she is dying for daily.
I got to meet another capable, gifted, and loving couple who has joined her in the work there - and I instantly loved them both deeply.
I experienced a very loving, global-minded, receptive, transforming group of college-age students who are eager to "figure it out" in their own hearts while also looking for ways to "change the world" for it’s good.
I got to bond personally with a few of these folks, and experienced the powder-keg of energy and desire that resides deep in this generation - and it made me want to connect with, learn from, guide, and make room for them to "do their thing"...because when they do, watch out! It will be very, very different, and very, very good...more like Christ.

I'm still trying to explain to myself what I witnessed in these "kids" this weekend. In one respect, it was just a typical college-age, Christian weekend retreat...complete with beautiful hills and trees, mess hall, swimming pool, football field, and boys and girls cabins (and Fabio (yes, I said Fabio), the cook, and his crew provided very acceptable food).

But as I talked about Jesus, about his heart and desire for them, about his sacred calling for their lives, his sacred motive of love, his sacred strategy for changing the world through relationships...I saw a common desire lighting up behind their eyes.

A desire for a better life. A better way of life. A better way of "doing Christianity".

And while I was very encouraged, and excited...I think more than anything, I was affirmed. I was validated. Does that make sense? As I said, I'm still figuring it out, but I confess that sometimes I think that I'm crazy. Seriously. I walk around wondering if I am the only one feeling the way I am feeling.

But this weekend, I was clearly presented with evidence that I am not.

I was very blessed this weekend by this group, and they were very gracious to let me share about my life and passion, about Jesus Christ and his life, and how he wants to use us to change the world globally by loving very deeply, personally, and "transformingly" locally. Just like Christ (who changed the world globally having never travelled more than, what, a hundred or so miles locally).

I shared about a God that I am very excited about, but I do that all the time, and I'm just insecure enough to think that maybe no one wants to hear, or no one needs this God like I do, or no one understands just how incredible great the life He offers is.

One of the students had set up an "e-card" station -- full of paper, paint, colors, markers -- for everyone to sit down and create an "encouragement card" for each other. A beautiful heart named Abby told me she would make me one (after I complained out loud that I was feeling left out), and she made a "crayon card"...and on the inside she wrote:

I sure would never have thought to put it that way, but that is exactly how I feel...I know that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, but He's also new every morning, and so whenever I find something new about God (or rediscover something old), through Christ, I feel like the kid with a new box of perfect crayons and I want to share him, and my excitement about him, with EVERYONE so they can see how awesome He is!

As it turns out, Jesus let me feel him again, through these young and energetic and "open to life" students, many of whom are hungry for guides and mentors who will be open to them and their vision for a new world, and will join them in forging it.

I would be honored to be one, and I hope I have something to offer them, but I sure know that they have a whole lot to offer me.

Across the generations, across the nation, let us all join Christ on his sacred mission of changing the world...starting with ourselves.

Silence and Solitude

2008-09-03T15:01:00.001-07:00

(I have been home from this time of silence and solitude for weeks, but am only just now posting it. Sorry for the timeline confusion.)

"Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters." - Genesis 1:2

I am two weeks into my annual 3-week sabbatical from my regular duties and routines that I perform on behalf of the Southwest Church of Christ.

This is my fourth one of these. It was given to me by the good and gracious people of the Southwest Church of Christ, who enable and support me in my attempt to live the life of Christ in their world here in Amarillo.

Each year, I have included within these three weeks, among other things, 3 days with a mentor of mine, 3 days with my kids (one full 24 hour period exclusively with each one), and 3 days of silence and solitude.

I began my silence and solitude today.

Of all the things I do, I most look forward to this. But I also find it the most difficult.

I look forward to it, I think, because my intention is to have nothing to do but be with God. It is a romantic thought, to be sure, and one I can't let go of. I long to be with God (although sometimes I have to settle for longing to long to be with God), and retreating "away from it all" with the intent to be with Him just feels right. Also, it always seems to be costly and inconvenient for me and those around me, enough so for me to be tempted to see it as an impractical luxury. It's almost like something is opposing my practice of it every year, which anyone who knows me knows that that just makes me want to fight for it all the more.

But the biggest reason I'm so attached to it is because of Jesus. He did it.

After Herod beheaded Jesus' cousin John, Matt 14:13 says that "when Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place."

After a full day of ministry and the people were coming and the demand for Jesus was growing, it says in Mark 1:35 that "very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed."

From the beginning of his ministry to the end, he modeled this for me. There is the 40 days of solitude and prayer that Jesus had after his ministry-initiating baptism, and there was his desperate, night-time retreat into the Garden of Gethsemane for a some intense solo time with God at the end of his ministry.

And even if I didn't have all the examples, I have Dr. Luke's summary observation in Luke 5:16 - "Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed."

When I'm at my best, I'm retreating often, too, to lonely places and praying. At my best, I go out to the Palo Duro Canyon weekly for extended time with God, in addition to regular "retreats" into myself wherever I am in my busy day, finding that lonely spot where I am most aware of God.

But this annual 3 day event always tests me. What do I do? What part should the Bible play? Should I study? Should I read? Should I sit in the lotus position all day and meditate? Should I fast? Should I organize each day with a theme? Should I spend the time interceding for people? For my family? For the church I serve? For the lost?

Each year, regardless of my plan, it seems I spend much of my time trying to NOT do things, more than figuring out what I'm going to do.

So today, I spent hours just sitting on a bridge, by a lake, in the rain (it's a covered bridge), surrounded by incredible landscapes of threatening clouds and rumbling 10-second long surround-sound thunder...calling my thoughts away from my regular distractions, calling my body not just do something, but stand there.

It was way hard. I've taken a special interest in prayer, and feel like I've prayed a lot in my life, but I still found myself uttering the words, with very real humility and confusion, "Jesus, teach me to pray." I found myself agreeing with something I read once, "when it comes to prayer, we are all still beginners."

I prayed the Lord's Prayer, sort of empty, hoping for some magic to pop out of them. I did several other things as I was straining to hear God's direction for me, and as uneventful as it was, I just feel good and like I'm where I'm supposed to be.

So, this first half day is pretty typical of what I've experienced each year doing this...it could be described quite accurately as "formless" and "void". Which took me right back to the beginning, to the quote from Genesis above...and it struck me! Both the "darkness" and the "Spirit of God" were present there over the formless and void earth.

So I'm right where I need to be...getting out of "planning" and "thinking" and "git-er-done" addictions and just being in the darkness of the void of activity that I'm here to practice, expecting once again for the Spirit of God to be there.

Dear Father:

Flare up my love for You, O God.

Ruin my life.

I have built a life of loving others in Your Name,

And would trade it all for oneness with You.

I love You more than I love my work for You,

but, oh, how I love to work for You.

Where I am too comfortable, disrupt me.

Where I am ignoring You, hurt me.

Get my attention, once again.

Mold me into the image of Your son, Jesus Christ.

Let your Kingdom come and will be done,

Here in me as it is in Heaven.

Let me live in the present alone, O God.

Save me from my past! From my future!

Only let me be still and know You are God.

That is enough for me.

Enjoy me, O God, the creation of Your hands!

And open my eyes to be aware of your delight,

That is enough for me.

Here I am, I am Yours.

Examine me and find every offensive way.

Help me not run from your refining fire.

Help me not run to the noise of the Olympics,

Or the hiding place of helping others in their needs,

Or the avoidance tactic of "doing your work."

Help me not run to the priority of "family" if it is taking me from You.

Give me the nothingness, the emptiness, the darkness

That so many of the prayer master's write about.

Give me the unlearning that I need,

The detachment from the slavery of needing to please men, or myself.

Give me total apathy for the politics and ways of this world,

enough for me to be Yours alone.

And then, Jesus, make me useful in this world,

For Your Fame, my joy, and Your son's glory.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Coming Down - Mountain Chronicles V

2008-09-03T11:01:00.001-07:00

"God was very good to put the 'going down' part of mountain climbing trips at the end." - Your truly, while coming down the mountain

"What are you, O mighty mountain? Before [God's man] you will become level ground. Then he will bring out the capstone to shouts of 'God bless it! God bless it!'" - Zach 4:7

We woke up to our last morning on the mountain. Before us was the task of packing everything once again on our backs, hiking down the 6.5 miles that we hiked up, and doing so with the deadline of when the Durango-Silverton train would arrive at Needleton.

There was much excitement stirring in us. We had a lot to come down for. Among them:

* Four ice-cold cans of Dr. Pepper than we hid near the train stop in the chilly waters of Needle Creek,

* The comfort of an "indoor" experience on the train.

* The concession car.

* Accessibility to a toilet.

* Hearing the voices of our families once in cell phone range.

* A car that carries us up-hills with the mere push of a pedal.

* A hotel hot-tub.

* A warm shower in the hotel.

* A feast of non-freeze dried food we would celebrate over that evening.

* A bed in a climate-controlled room complete with a pillows, lights, sheets, blankets and a TV.

It's amazing how those things that I take for granted all of the time, most of which I don't really need, become such motivators when I've been deprived of them for just a short time.

But more than anything, the most immediate and inward reward for me would come from what awaited us on the other side of that bridge over the Animas River. When we would take our packs off our backs for the last time and sit on the railroad ties waiting to wave the train down, the deep and satisfied feeling of faithfulness. The feeling of following through. Of doing something that mattered even when it was hard, inconvenient, and full of doubt. The feeling of getting to say "we did that" and "we did that together".

There is a deep excitement in the anticipation of doing something.

There is a different, but equally deep excitement in the actual doing of the something.

And there is also an excitement that comes with the thing being done, and it's transition into becoming a memory. I think I love them all, but this one is strangely special to me.

Memories are awesome. I'm not sure why. Maybe because they represent things that are permanent and unchangeable in a world where it seems there is not much of that.

Beautiful memories are tools for our current joy, funny memories are tools for our current laughter, painful memories are tools for our current healing, and formative memories are tools for our current teaching. All memories, in the sharing of them, are tools for our current relationship building ("baptism" into the fellowship of men that meet in my basement on Tuesday nights is to take a turn in the "hot seat," where you share your whole story from birth to now. An impossible task without memory. We always initiate this ritual with the words, "make us your friends tonight" - meaning: tell us everything). Memories are just cool.

My buddy Keith wrote me today and said he has enjoyed reading these chronicles with his son, and that he is amazed at how much he has already forgotten. Me too.

But I don't worry much about that. I know I have forgotten some of the greatest stories. But honestly, they seem to come right back whenever I need them or they need to serve a purpose that God wants served through or in me.

Anyway, we had a great and relatively speedy hike down. We found our hidden Dr. Peppers, went across the bridge way before our deadline to catch the train, sat down and sure enough, the feelings I was most looking forward to came rushing in. It was awesome.

The only thing we now HAD to do was wait. I love times like this (okay, in my frantic and normal days, I hate times like this...but in this setting, I loved it...and I need to learn to love it more). Waiting forces me into the present. I can't do anything else that I MUST do, so I have to find something TO do. I looked around with hours to kill, and, Hey! Look! There's my son, Shade!

That may sound strange that I noticed my son Shade since I have been with him 24-7 for days now, but that's how it is, isn't it? I've heard it said that "you are where your thoughts are," and even in the constant presence of my beloved son, I find myself leaving him for other things that aren't right there. (This is often how my prayer life with God seems to go, too. And appointments that I have with people in my office. And date night with my wife.) So, with nothing to do but wait, and rediscovering that I'm getting to be with my son...

Shade and I spent the couple of hours there exploring around this Needleton spot. We found a boarded up old outhouse that I'm sure was used by the gold miners back in the day while waiting for this same train (Shade squeezed in and used it before he called me over to check it out). We found what looked like an old ticketing station. We went down by the river and found an incredible outcropping of stones, where we searched for unique ones to take home as gifts for the family. We found a perfectly round one that looked like a ball for Jakin. We found one that would stand up and had the shape of a cross engraved in it naturally for Shade's mom. We found a heart shaped one for Callie. And then, believe it or not, we found one in the shape of a cannon for Shade Canon Mashburn to take home. We also found a very nice campsite down the tracks a bit...we laughed that we were sure it was there for mountain climbers who didn't make the train deadline and had to set up camp here until the next day...and we were glad we made it!

The blessed train horn bellowed in the distance, and Shade got on the tracks as the engine came around the mountain. He and I did the special wave of his arms that they told us to do to stop the train, it did, we loaded up and settled in for the 3 hour ride back to Durango.

Side note: As the train started to inch forward, a backpacker dude came running across the bridge from the wild, yelling for the train to wait, which it didn't, and the four of us looked at each other with deep compassion for the guy. We were smiling, though, because we understood exactly what that guy was feeling.

I was glad not to be him, but at the same time, there was a part of me (small...very small) that likes when things happen that take my choices away. If I HAD to stay one more night in the mountains, I would've done it. And it would've ended up great. It would've had all the secret treasures that "forced waiting" has.

It was very easy to enjoy the train ride down. It felt so good to be moving, and not by our own power.

What a grace this trip was. The lessons continue to this day. The memory of it is still serving us actively. Almost like Christ is still moving in us through this trip, but not by our own power.

The mountain represented a wild challenge for us. A mighty and overwhelming challenge, in so many ways, and we were walking into it. Having made it successfully, I connect with the spirit of the quote above from Scripture: "What are you mighty mountain? You have been made flat ground (achievable, explorable, experiencable) by God before our feet. You, the challenge, have become our blessing and teacher. God bless you! God bless you! God bless you!"

"'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty." - Zech 4:6

On Staying Connected (and to whom)

2008-08-28T13:47:00.001-07:00

"Oh, when will that blessed and desired hour come, so that You can fill me with Your presence and be to me my all in all? Until this is granted to me, I will not have complete joy." - Thomas a' Kempis

I'm almost 24 hours into my 3 days of silence and solitude.

It's killin' me to not be in touch with my wife and kids.

Really. It's amazing how addicted I am to periodic 30 second phone calls to Carrie. How accustomed I am to knowing that my wife and kids can get a hold of me any time they need to. Or just want to. I get a little stir crazy being totally inaccessible.

I'm enjoying the silence and solitude. I've been very still, slow, and deliberate. I've re-engaged The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis (there is something about that book for me), continued reading Phillip Yancy's book on Prayer, made a big deal with God about each simple meal I've eaten, slept for 10 hours last night (!), caught a turtle, some minnows, some half-developed tadpole-frogs, a Bluegill fish, chased a white-tailed rabbit, a wild turkey, saw a beautiful hawk in flight, and even encountered a Coyote.

So, I'm enjoying it. But already, I have caught myself on the verge of "cheating". I brought my cell phone with me, even though service is sparce out here on the ranch, just in case my wife needs me for some emergency. Comically, I find myself checking it, hoping there was an emergency and she has called.

She hasn't (and won't, unless it is a true emergency), but I have gotton a couple of texts from some buddies, and I mindlessly and automatically started texts to both of them before I realized cyber-contact is contact nonetheless.

I'm not trying to be legalistic or anything about this, rather, I'm trying to be aware of how much of my energy is spent "staying connected," and how much I am distracted and hindered by it. Maybe even addicted to it.

Out here on the ranch, I get to drive a cool, all-terrain, mean and green German Pinzgauer around to my various destinations of solitude and beauty. It has no gas gauge, but if it runs out, there is just enough gas in the emergency gas can to get it to town in order to fill it (and the gas can) back up. I stalled out in some mud this afternoon and was sort of hoping that it was out of gas (it wasn't). Anything for an excuse for some interpersonal action, it seems.

I might not have written about this minor phenomena I'm experiencing had I not just been struck by these challenging thoughts:

Do I get this stir crazy when I'm not in touch with Christ?

Am I equally addicted to periodic "touches" with God?

Am I accustomed to knowing that the Father can "get a hold of me" any time He needs to? Or wants to?

Do I mindlessly find myself drifting off into the Holy Spirit?

How much energy do I spend "staying connected" to Jesus?

Wow. Thoughts like these don't come to me until I disconnect from the Matrix and view it from the outside looking in. No wonder Jesus "often withdrew to lonely places to pray". He didn't want to get lost in the matrix. How easy would it have been for him to find his value in being valued by others? Or being amazing to others? Or to think his own self-promotion was the same as promoting God? Or his own self-protection was protecting God's work through him?

God is enough for me. But I forget this almost every day. Remind me, Father, every moment.

"Alas! The old nature still lives in me and is not wholly crucified, not perfectly dead." - Thomas a' Kempis

The Rewards of the "Summit" - The Mountain Chronicles IV

2008-08-27T12:13:00.001-07:00

"God will take care of us." - Keith, with perfect calm, to his son Zach as we watched the dark afternoon clouds threaten us at our mountain "summit"

We all slept much better our 2nd night on the mountain. For me, I think it was a combination of the flatter ground we were laying on and my altitude headache being gone.

We got up the next cold morning, had our precious cup of hot chocolate, some breakfast, then packed our day packs for our "summit" climb.

I put "summit" in quotation marks because we did not have our sites set on actually climbing Windom, Sunlight, or Eulos...the three 14ers surrounding the basin we were staying in. They are some challenging climbs, with some parts being borderline technical...so we weren't going to take our kids up there at this young age. Our primary search was for the "cave" - an old gold mine that I had found an antique chisel in over a decade ago (I found it twice, actually, and you can read that story in my piece entitled "The Mountain" in my blog archives at http://brianmashburn.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html). And our secondary goal was the Twin Lakes, well up over the treeline (12,000+), and the staging point for anyone going to any of the three 14,000 foot summits.

Keith had no real personal attachment to finding the old gold mine aside from wanting me to find it, so inwardly I was hoping my memory was serving me correctly that we found that thing on or near the route that leads to the Twin Lakes. All I could remember is that it was just to the left of a waterfall, and that the first 20 feet or so were full of 1 to 2 feet of ice cold water. And I was not looking forward to wading through it, drenching my socks and shoes. But I was willing to, and already preparing myself to ferry Shade, Zach and Keith through it on my back, just so that their socks and shoes stayed dry.

A couple of our hours into our hike, after we started gaining some serious elevation, a man who was on a seriously fast pace hiked by. We visited with him for a minute. He had come from the other side of a mountain ridge over the Columbine Pass. You could see the path across the basin, which was a mountain climb in and of itself, and looked miles away (cuz it was!). He had gotten up VERY early this morning, leaving his wife and son camping on the other side, to try to get one of the 14ers on our side of the basin. It humbled me to compare his day's hike to mine, and it also explained his fast pace. We all started walking, and Shade with his energetic 5 million questions decided to hike with our new friend.

Shade flew ahead of us with him, talking to him the whole time with all kinds of conversation: "How far is the Twin Lakes? That's where we're going. Do you know there's a mine where my dad found a spike? We're lookin' for it. He has the spike in his prayer room. It's heavy! Rusty, too. We're gonna go in it and look around. It's real dark in there. Have you been in any mines this trip? How old is your son? Why didn't he come with you today? I came with my dad. Where are you from? We're from Amarillo. I hike in the Canyon like this all the time. Have you been to the Canyon? The Palo Duro Canyon? You want to sometime? Your son and you can stay in our basement if you want and we'll take you. That's my friend Zach, and his dad...they stayed in our basement before. Does your son like Pokémon cards? Which cards does he have? Does he have any Charizards? Those are my favorites. Zach has a Charizard EX!"

The man was very kind.

Eventually, we got to a very tall and powerful waterfall that looked very familiar to me. I wasn't sure, but this might be it. From our vantage point, however, we couldn't see whether there was a mine to it's left. We had to make a choice. Either go ahead and cross the waterfall here, making our way up the mountain on the other side of the falls, where we would eventually get up high enough to see whether there was a mine or not, risking that if it is, we would either have to come all the way back down here to get up to it, or try to cross back over the falls up there (which is more dangerous), OR we could go ahead and start climbing up the left side of this fall here, risking that it's not there at all, and either having to come all the way back down, or try to cross the falls up higher (which would be much more difficult).

The air was feeling thinner and thinner all of the sudden.

As I looked back and forth at our choices, I saw that Shade's friend was way up the path on the other side of the river. The falls were loud by him, but I yelled as loud as I could anyway. Somehow he heard me, stopped and looked down at us. I pointed up and yelled, "Is there a mine right there?" I don't know if he could really hear me, or if he just knew what we were looking for thanks to Shade, but he looked where I was pointing, pointed and nodded real big. YES! We headed up...

It was a respectable tough climb, and a very satisfying feeling came over me as we navigated the rubble and descended into that old familiar cave. While there was still water in the mouth of the cave, it was low enough and short enough that we could sort of scale the left side and all jump across without getting our shoes drenched. We busted out our flashlights and disappeared into the moist and pitch black cave, going all the way to the end (maybe 200 feet?).

At this point, I wish there was some climactic event that happened to tell you: A burning bush would've been nice, or archangel Michael with a message from God for Shade sitting in the back, or some old Hebrew script etched out on the cave walls by the finger of God. Shoot, I'd be good with finding another old chisel for Shade to have! But there was nothing like that. We did the echo thing, and the turn-off-the-flashlight-to-experience-the-pitch-black thing, but it's kinda creepy in there and it didn't take long for our boys to do the "I'm-ready-to-go" thing. I was too.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't disappointed. The rewards for me are legion: the journey here (my 3rd time), being with my son in a challenging environment, the forging of brotherhood between the four of us here, the memories it brought back from fellowships past, the beauty to behold, the cost to behold it, the anticipation of success, the satisfaction of success, the thoughts of home...just to name a few.

When we were done, we decided to stay at our current elevation and attempt to cross the waterfall...which at this height was actually FOUR separate waterfalls, all wider, and more difficult than what we had to do below, and with no trail. It was challenging, and we made it with celebration. Shade, of course, always wanted to go first and blaze the way, and oftentimes (here and elsewhere) would be-bop back and forth over the streams, hopping from rock to rock, all in the name of showing us how to do it, but mostly because he just loves it (such unnecessary and risky fun would have been quite nerve-racking for his mom).

Many hours, mountain-goats, marmots, and rest-stops later (and after I dropped my water bottle down a cliff of the mountain (amazingly, we found it on the way down)), we made it to the beautiful Twin Lakes. One of the lakes was almost totally covered in snow, but the other one was mirror-still and vast. We stayed here for quite a while, ate lunch, skipped rocks, Shade danced with a playful marmot, explored, took pictures, visited with the occasional hiker on their way back from the peaks. It was beautiful in every way for our group: between us, around us, within us, below us, above us.

Boy the clouds were threatening. We'd been rained/hailed on every day and it was getting about that time in the afternoon. Zach voiced what I was thinking to his dad by saying, "We better get going, we don't want to have to go down in that rain. Let's get back to camp."

That's when Keith responded with the calm and confident quote from above. I relaxed with his words, knowing them to be true. We enjoyed our time without any rain. When we were ready, we packed up and made the long (but not near as long) trek down to our camp. And to put an exclamation point on Keith's prophetic and confident words, we got back late afternoon, right in time to get all of us in the tent, totally dry, with a deck of cards just as the rain came down. We had some sweet fellowship in there.

"Life is about fully experiencing "right now" to the fullest, bringing all of who you are to the moment right before you and to the other people who you truly care about, knowing that there are no guarantees of next week or next year or when they get their act together, and it is all good for you in the end, surrendering all resistance to that fact in the fire of your own redemption. What fire, you might ask: "Life is not the wick, or the candle, but the burning."" - Jim Spivey, my friend, mentor, and fellow "burner"

Unstoppable Energy - The Mountain Chronicles III

2008-08-26T12:58:00.001-07:00

(I unintentionally sent this one out before I had finished it a little over a week ago...here is the final product. Sorry about that!)

"This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object." - The Joker, in the movie The Dark Knight

One of the things I really enjoyed about this trip was being with my son Shade 24-7. We did everything together (I mean everything...eat, sleep, hike, move, rest, poop, pee, drive, explore, collapse...everything) every single day. We got tired of each other, served each other, joked with each other, listened to each other, got sick, frustrated, and angry with each other, and survived each other.

So that was cool, but also cool for me was experiencing some of the unique qualities that are Shade so clearly and constantly.

Shade has energy. Even when he is tired and worn out, he can't seem to not exhibit energy.

When we would take breaks that involved taking our packs off, Shade would be running down to the water, exploring an old miners cabin, or throwing rocks.

When we would be hiking in his toughest moments, his complaints and ailings would be expressed with profound energy.

When we were at camp, he was non-stop energy.

When he wanted to talk about Pokémon Cards with his buddy Zach, he was overwhelming energy.

When we were going to sleep, he always had the last word...and yes, you guessed it, it was said with energy - even if his audience was asleep!

I shared in Mountain Chronicles II how tough the long hike up the mountain was for Shade, but whenever he didn't have a pack on, he was desiring non-stop action.

Nowhere was this better expressed than on Day 2. Day 1 ended with us hiking about 4.5 miles, finding an adequate temporary campsite for the night, setting up our tent in a threatening sprinkle but before the hard rain, eating our first hot meal (mac and cheese), and settling into our sleeping bags. We were on a respectable incline, and slid towards our feet constantly, and I slept horribly, with a lingering headache irritating me all night (this has always happened to me my first day in high altitude, only to disappear with my giving in to nausea (which happened the next morning) and then I'm fine the rest of the trip). It was a less than ideal night, but boy was it good to not be walking.

On day 2, we had our precious daily hot chocolate, ate some breakfast, packed up, and kept hiking. We went another mile and half or so and found a beautiful spot to set up our base camp. After we set up, we decided to pack our day packs and go exploring up into the basin...maybe hit an old gold mine or two. This, of course, pumped Shade up. We started hiking, and Zach started getting a headache...but courageously decided to keep going. We were probably about 3/4 mile up from our camp when the clouds came swooping in and it started pouring a drenching rain. We got our raingear on in the nick of time, and spotted an old abandoned campsite thick with trees up ahead. As we headed there, the heavens seem to turn the water up a bit more, and then opened the ice-box as it turned to hail! I'm smiling as we rush under the trees with nothing to do but get drenched and wait it out. I wasn't smiling for Zach though, who squats down under one of the thick pines and huddles up in his raingear...I felt horrible for him sitting there quite miserable. Keith was smiling too with what I interpreted as that "What did we get ourselves into" look...a look echoing his statement when we crossed the bridge on day 1. All things considered, I felt like we were in a pretty good place to wait out the storm.

But Shade...Shade was wondering why we were stopped! "Let's go!" he kept saying. I was the "immovable object" here, totally resolute in my decision to stay right here until it let up. And Shade was the "unstoppable force," trying in dozens and dozens of ways to try to change my decision.

One time, it was, "Okay, lets go," in an assuming tone that was pretending this was just a short breather/break that had nothing to do with the weather.

Another time, it was, "Look...it's letting up!" Which wasn't true, but maybe I'd fall for it.

Yet again, he switched to the logical approach: "Dad, let's get to the cave. It will protect us way better than these trees!" (A really good point, actually)

Several times they were of the "Are we gonna just stand here all day?" family: "We're losing daylight, dad." "Okay, fine. We'll wait. How many more minutes?" "Did we come all the way up here just to stand under these trees?"

I'm cracking up out loud on the plane just replaying them in my mind. Shade is an unstoppable force of energy!

But I'm not budging. Everything...EVERYTHING...except Shade's energy...says stay right where you are until it lets up. So...I'm pulling out all my different flavors of trying to get him to realize the parameters of what is not going to change.

I used the detailed explanation approach: "Shade, it's raining and hailing. We are going to stay here until it stops."

I used the "did-you-hear-me?" approach: "Shade, do you remember when I said we will move? When it stops."

The "make-your-kid-say-it-back-to-you" approach: "Shade, when did I say we will go?" "When the hail stops," he said, "So when does that mean we'll move?" "When the hail stops," he confirmed.

The "point-out-his-persistence-as-futile" approach: "Shade, what did I say last time you asked to go?" "No," he said. "So in 30 seconds, when you ask again, what am I gonna say?" "No," he said. "So do you need to ask again?" "No," he conceded.

But of course, he would anyway. I can't even remember all the different ways he and I went back and forth. It reminds me of a wild horse that just will not to be broken, and the cowboys trying every horse-breaking strategy known to man, and then just looking bewildered and in awe at the beautiful animal in the pen, refusing to agree with them that he belongs there behind a fence with a saddle and bridle.

My favorite expression of his energy, and his creativity, had a touché' sort of flair to it when he said, "Dad...what are we supposed to do when it gets hard?" (You'll have to back up and read Mountain Chronicles II to appreciate the genius of that one).

But I wasn't budging...I thought. Alas, just like the strong rock eventually gives way to and is shaped by the relentless, non-stop dripping of (seemingly) weaker water, I suddenly found myself making a case for why it actually might be good to keep going.

Everything...EVERYTHING...except Shade's energy said stay right there until it lets up. But something about Shade's energy is compelling. I do it sometimes, but I don't think I was just "giving in" to his persistence here, as if tired of being "immovable". I think it was 1/3rd my desire to give him what he wants, 1/3rd agreement with him that mere weather shouldn't stop us from pressing on, and 1/3rd my utter respect for his "unbreakableness" (I always root for the horse in those movies that depict the battle between it's wild spirit and then men trying to break 'em...wishing I could open the corral gate and let it free before it's too late). I know the math doesn't add up, but there might have been another 1/3 of me wishing it was me saying "let's keep going!"

The water was coming down so thick and fast, that the ground above us couldn't saturate it fast enough, so we watched as the water started inching its way on top of the ground, infringing on our feet. This was the straw that I was waiting for to break the camels back, so I looked at Keith and said we were gonna keep going...knowing that he needed to stay there with brave Zach who was in pain.

So...to the question of "what happens when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object?" I don't know, really, but when the unstoppable force is Shade's energy, and the immoveable object in my will, I know for sure what happens. We find out the immovable object isn't really immovable!

Long story short, we started cutting through some meadows that were drenched with water, saw a quickly rising river ahead that we were going to have to ford, and all of this with no signs of the hail letting up. After giving it a go, Shade yelled through the hammering of hail, "Okay, dad...let's go back."

It was a wise choice...and probably the wisest choice would've been to not waste the energy trying what we were trying in the first place. But for some reason, I didn't feel any kind of "I told you so." On the contrary, I found myself exhilarated and energized because we tried.

And for that, I'm so thankful for Shade's energy. Because I wouldn't have had the exhilaration and energy if he wasn't there as the lone voice saying let's go...when everything, EVERYTHING else said to stay put.

So that was cool...experiencing so clearly and constantly some of the unique qualities that are Shade.

Can't wait to do something like this with Callie and Jakin, too.

Unstoppable Energy - The Mountain Chronicles III

2008-08-10T05:09:00.001-07:00

"This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object." - The Joker, in the movie The Dark Knight

So that was cool, but also cool for me was experiencing some of the unique qualities that are Shade so clearly and constantly.

Shade has energy. Even when he is tired and worn out, he can't seem to not exhibit energy.

When we would take breaks that involved taking our packs off, Shade would be running down to the water, exploring an old miners cabin, or throwing rocks.

When we would be hiking in his toughest moments, his complaints and ailings would be expressed with profound energy.

When we were at camp, he was non-stop energy.

When he wanted to talk about Pokémon Cards with his buddy Zach, he was non-stop energy.

When we were going to sleep, he always had the last word...yes, you guessed it, said with energy even if his audience was asleep.

I shared in Mountain Chronicles II how tough the long hike up the mountain was for Shade, but whenever he didn't have a pack on, he was desiring non-stop action.

Nowhere was this better expressed than on Day 2. Day 1 ended with us hiking about 4.5 miles, finding an adequate temporary campsite for the night, setting up our tent in a threatening sprinkle but before the hard rain, eating our first hot meal (mac and cheese), and settling into our sleeping bags. We were at a respectable angle, and slid towards our feet constantly, and I slept horribly, with a lingering headache irritating me all night (this has always happened to me my first day in high altitude, only to disappear with my giving in to nausea (which happened the next morning) and then I'm fine the rest of the trip). But boy was it good to not be walking.

On day 2, we had our precious daily hot chocolate, at some breakfast, packed up and kept hiking. We went another mile and half or so and found a beautiful spot to set up our base camp. After we set up, we decided to pack our day packs and go exploring up into the basin...maybe hit an old gold mine or two. This, of course, pumped Shade up. We started hiking, and Zach started getting a headache...but courageously decided to keep going. We were probably about 3/4 mile up from our camp when the clouds come swooping in and it starts pouring a drenching rain. We got our raingear on in the nick of time, and spotted an old abandoned campsite thick with trees up ahead. As we headed there, the heavens seem to turn the water up a bit more, and it also turns to hail! I'm smiling as we rush under the trees with nothing to do but get drenched and wait it out. Zach squats down under one of the tick pines and huddles up in his raingear...I felt horrible for him sitting there quite miserable. Keith was smiling too with what interpreted as that "What did we get ourselves into" look...a look echoing his statement when we crossed the bridge on day 1. All things considered, I felt like we were in a pretty good place to wait out the storm.

But Shade...Shade was wondering why we were stopped! "Let's go!" he kept saying. And Shade said this in dozens and dozens of ways to try to change my decision to wait until this stuff lets up before we move.

One time, it was, "Okay, lets go," in a tone that was pretending this was just a short breather/break that had nothing to do with the weather.

Another time, it was, "Look...it's not so hard!" Which wasn't true, but maybe I'd fall for it.

Several times they were of the "Are we gonna just stand here all day?" family: "We're losing daylight, dad." "Okay, how many more minutes?" "Did we come all the way up here just to stand under these trees?"

I'm cracking up out loud on the plane just replaying them in my mind. Shade is an unstoppable force of energy!

But I'm not budging. I'm pulling out all my different flavors of trying to get him to realize the parameters of what is not going to change.

I used the detailed explanation approach: "Shade, it's raining and hailing. We are going to stay here until it stops."

I used the "did-you-hear-me?" approach: "Shade, do you remember when I said we will move?"

The "make-him-say-it" approach: "Shade, when did I say we will go?" "When the hail stops," he said, "So when does that mean we'll move?" "When the hail stops," he confirmed.

The "point-out-his-persistence-as-futile" approach: "Shade, what did I say last time you asked to go?" "No," he said. "So in 30 seconds, do you need to ask me again?" "No," he said (but he would anyway)

My favorite expression of his energy, and his creativity, had a touché' sort of flair to it when he said, "Dad...what are we supposed to do when it gets hard?"

It's On You - Mountain Chronicles II

2008-08-08T09:09:00.000-07:00

"Strength." - Shade's answer to the pre-trip question, "What are we going to the mountain to learn?"

"Push through." - Shade's answer to the question, "What are you going to do when it gets hard?"

"I will cheer for you, I'll encourage you, I'll go with you, I'll lead you, I'll serve you, I'll take some of your load, but the largest part of this climb is yours...and I can't help you with it." - Yours Truly, with some coaching from my friend Keith, to my son, Shade, on our first day's hike

Something in me is crying as I begin writing this one...I'm not sure why.

Maybe it's because the lesson from this part of the trip is so good, but scary. So necessary, so true, but sometimes I just wish it wasn't.

Maybe it's because I still haven't totally learned this one, and don't want to.

Let me start by saying that sometimes it is my good heart that hurts my kids. It is my deep love...my willingness to do anything for them...that could end up handicapping them. Limiting them. Holding them back in a childhood that is not supposed to last forever. I don't mean to do this. I have full intentions of intentionally helping my kids grow up. I'm not pushing it, mind you. On the contrary, I love them as children, but sometimes I can feel myself loving them as children so much that I wouldn't mind them staying there. Or, at least, my desire to be a "good and loving dad" makes me help them (or bail them out) a little too much.

Okay, moving on...

Shade crossed the bridge over the wide and fast-moving Upper Animas River with enthusiasm and a bounce in his step. We had a half-mile hike back down river to a trail that started going up (and up and up) that followed along the beautiful Needle Creek (one of those "whoa...look at that!" creeks that tempts you to stop around every corner and gaze on it's flow, it's waterfalls, its nooks and crannies). We began this trek at over 7000 feet, and were going to go steadily up (meaning, less oxygen in the air) and far (meaning, we will spend all day doing this). Within the first mile, the glamour, excitement, and romanticism of this trip was quickly overcome by the harsh realities around us, and the plan before us.

Shade didn't blatantly want out, but he sure wanted it easier than it was.

He started complaining about his feet, and his knees, and how "he can't breathe" and that his pack was too heavy. We took regular breaks, which quickly became his favorite part of the climb (can't blame him there, it was quickly becoming mine too!). I was right with him every step, and started feeling like I might have been a little over-zealous about how much weight he was carrying. He's a 60 pound kid and he was carrying about 19 pounds. Keith and I split about 9 pounds of that (thinking about the idea that none of us were carrying 1/3rd of our body weight). But still, despite all my pre-trip warnings and preparations about the difficulty of this first day, Shade was struggling with having to endure it. Where is the fun in this?

Pause. A few weeks earlier, my wife had a bunch of girls over in our living room late one Wednesday night. Shade and I were in there enjoying their company when he pulled a first. He said, "Dad, can I talk with you privately?"

"Sure," I said, as I went with him into the other room. He was wanting to confess something, and as it came out of him, I could see he was looking for reassurance, motivation, and courage.

He began..."I'm real excited about our trip to the mountain. Except for one part of it that is making me nervous. That first day that you say is going to be so hard."

I nodded. "Yeah, me too, Shade. It's going to be a tough day. But you remember when we were praying together, asking God about why He had us going on this trip? About what He wanted you to learn? What gift He wanted to give you?"

"Strength," Shade replied.

"Yeah...strength," I said. "And I think that's why He's sending us to this mountain. Because He needs us to have that first day. A day that's hard, that will make you need strength in order to succeed."

I filled with pride that this was enough for Shade. He nodded, and said with a snap of optimism and acceptance in his voice, "yeah...okay." Then he went on back to socializing.

Before I get back to the story, it's probably important for me to tell you that, while I would not have been able to identify this at the time, I believe that I was secretly thinking that if worse came to worse, I would be able to be Shade's strength...which now I know was really cheapening what God was setting up, not to mention vastly overestimating the strength I would have on this trip.

Okay...so Keith and Zach are plodding along really consistently and strong, and Shade and I are moving really slow because of Shade's complaints and pain, and our way-to-frequent stops. It was getting tough on both of us, but praise God I wasn't getting impatient, crystal clear on the fact that this is why we were there. So I asked Shade to look at me in the eyes, and mustering my best loving-but-firm-and-confident look, I said, "Buddy...we are going all the way. We are going to hike all day until we get to our campsite. And you are going to carry that (I pointed at it) backpack. So you can decide if you want to use your energy trying to change that, or use your energy accomplishing that."

I loved him as he looked in my eyes and measured what I was saying. I loved him. My love exploded for him (and I already love him so much, I didn't think that was possible). I wanted to take back what I said out of love. I wanted to attach his pack to mine. I wanted to say, "If you can't make it all the way on your own, don't worry, I'll carry you." But I didn't. I just looked at him in the eyes as he was deciding whether he could adjust to what I was saying as the unchangeable truth. And I loved him. And I would love him no matter what he decided in that moment.

Pause again. It really, REALLY helped me knowing that God told me to bring Shade to this mountain. See, there are other mountains we could've climbed that didn't require such a long hike, nor such a steep ascent. If it were on me, I would've chosen a much different place...less challenging. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to relieve his pain (and mine) by changing the plan, taking care of him, going down early, etc... But I kept going back to that other mountain months ago, where I heard God say, "Go back. Take Shade." Seriously...if I weren't convicted that this was from God, I wouldn't have had the strength myself to demand that he push through.

So just like back in the living room, only this time with much more difficulty (because he was in the midst of his pain), Shade said, "yeah...okay". Then he went back to climbing.

From this point on (for the rest of this hike, but also for the rest of the week), Shade got better and better. And by that, I mean that he accepted the difficulties inherent in this trip more and more readily. He got stronger and stronger. My son pushed through.

I can write that now, but I wouldn't really acknowledge this on the trip...too afraid that I was just being a little too optimistic about this, just seeing what I wanted to see so desperately. But without any prompting from me, as we were driving home, Keith busted out with the statement, "I feel like Shade just kept getting better and better as the week went on. He started out struggling, but just kept doing better." This was one of the many gifts that I feel like God gave to me by having Keith and Zach join us on this trip (there were countless). I contained it in the car, but my heart leapt right through the roof! I wanted to blow up with a freakin' excited, glad-to-be-affirmed yell of victory, "I DID TOO!!!!!"

Shade didn't have to get better and better for this trip to have been excellent. Shade didn't have to exhibit strength, stop complaining, or make it through the hike that day without more help from me for me to love him.I just love him. And I love helping him. And I love him feeling helped.

But I loved helping him in this way, too. In this way where he seems to be learning that he has a reservoir of strength to pull from when things get hard. Strength that will help him achieve things that he starts out thinking might be too hard. Strength, not from me, but from God.

About a month or two before our trip, a real special friend named Pam called me having had a recurring dream that she felt like she was supposed to tell me about. She said, "I could see you and Shade going up on that mountain you're going to. It had some sort of relation to Abraham and Isaac. It was the identical dream two nights in a row. And I had the distinct feeling that Shade is going to get something from God up there that has nothing to do with you."

I smiled huge when she told me this. This would be my dream, I thought, and I instantly prayed that God would please make it so. I thought of all the students I've known and loved as they were trying to "attain their own faith" (rather than feel like it was just their parent's idea for them) for over 14 years (not to mention remembering my own transition into my own faith). And so for Shade to be getting special "things" from the Father, at such a young age, that had nothing to do with his dad on earth would be worth the world to me.

Dear Father...In the name of Christ, give my kids a relationship with You that has nothing to do with me. The sooner the better, Father. Thank You for letting me be in their lives.

Witnesses - The Mountain Chronicles I

2008-08-01T10:12:00.000-07:00

"Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted." - Matthew 28:16-17

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" - Keith, as we crossed the suspended bridge over the raging Animas River with our young sons, to the the trailhead leading into the wild

For those just picking up on the story, I just returned from a much anticipated backpacking trip with my 8-year-old son Shade in the Weminuche Wilderness just Northeast of Durango, Colorado. This whole trip was in response to what I felt was God's invitation and direction to go on it...so the journey was full of all the excitement and doubt, anticipation and fear that comes along with the idea that you are "following God". We had a difficult and great time.

Our fellow father-son duo, Keith & Zach (9) from Houston, arrived in Amarillo on Saturday, and after attending church with us Sunday morning, we all four packed into Keith's Corolla, drove 8-9 hours to Durango, Colorado, checked into the Holiday Inn Express that my wife booked for us through Priceline, and got our last night of sleep in a bed.

We were up early the next morning, and after breakfast, went down by the lower Animas River (that our hotel was settled next to). We had explored it briefly the night before, so we revisited a hole in the large fence along the riverwalk that allowed us right down by the water (where we found the raw material for some perfect hiking staffs for our boys, by the way). We began this long-awaited morning by sharing with the boys a story from the Bible in Exodus -- about Moses meeting God on a mountain, calling him to take a dangerous, difficult journey -- one that Moses saw as too difficult and gave God several excuses as to why Moses shouldn't do it. All of them boiled down to Moses thinking this journey was going to be too hard for him.

"What should Moses do here, and on his journey, when it gets hard?" we asked our boys.

"Push through," they said. We've all been talking about this trip for a few months now...ever since Keith and I were together on that other mountain in Colorado and felt like God called us to take our sons to this one...so they both knew the "right answer". They said it like they were in Bible class, knowing that the Sunday School Teacher wanted them to answer correctly, satisfied and proud that they did, but sortof unattached to it's implications, unaware of how personally it would apply to them in just a few hours.

And so now, we delivered our brief words of guidance, and warning. "When we get off that train (the Durango Silverton Narrow Gauge Steam Engine that would deliver us to our trailhead in the wilderness), we are going to have a long, uphill journey with heavy packs. It's going to get hard...so all day long, we want you to be asking yourself, each other, and God...'what will I do when it gets hard?'"

We prayed and headed for the station. It was very exciting. There are mostly tourists on this train (the ride alone is worth the trip) and it was sort of cool being decked out in our mountain gear, hoisting our packs onto the freight car, and finding our seats while looking a tad less civilized than the rest of the hundreds of passengers.

The train trip was beautiful and fantastic, like a step back in time. This train has been used in dozens of movies because of it's age (over 100 years old) and it's setting (right through the mountains along the Animas River). After exploring every train car multiple times, Shade came back and settled down with me in our seats, and we entered into an anxious silence, staring at the beauty out the window, knowing that our time in this comfortable seat with the access to cushions, bathrooms, and concession cars was about to be over.

2-1/2 hours later, as we approached our stop where we would be left behind in the wilderness with only our packs and each other, we all took advantage of the on-train facilities to have one last sit down on an actual toilet...since our next experience would be on the edge of a rock or squatting over a hole we dug. (Excuse my being graphic, but this is a major part of multiple-day backpacking. Scores and scores of people (not just women) will never lay eyes on what my 8-year-old son saw because they are unwilling to endure this very thing.)

The conductor came and retrieved us. We were about to stop.

As we walked from the back of the train to the front, past all the people in each train car, we heard whispers and utterances of astonishment and wonder: "They're getting off!". Keith pointed out the whispering and stares of awe by saying, "This is cool," and I smiled...I couldn't help but think of the pride that might be swelling up in our sons as they experienced the "stares of respect" as they walked into their mixture of excitement and fear preparing to finally get off the train and don their loads and start the brutal 3000 ft ascent over 6 miles.

I think every boy (and man) needs moments like this. Moments where he walks courageously into fear, into some sort of danger or adventure, into the wild, if you will, where he will be without all of his "climate controls" and totally exposed "to the elements"...but to have WITNESSES of it, well that is something special. Something gets cemented into the masculine heart when this happens...when you walk away from the herd, and they watch...sometimes in awe, sometimes thinking your crazy, sometimes inspiring someone to do the same, some scoffing at the sincerity with which you do so, or maybe something else, but they do watch. I think this cementing in a boy's heart needs to happen repeatedly (and dad's do well to both set this up for, invite, and be witnesses of it for their boys). Part of being a man, I'm convinced, is being a pioneer of some sort. Bold, brave, courageous...not without fear, of course...but capable of facing it, walking into it, come what may. Of course, we need to be able to do it without witnesses, as a matter of our integrity and inner character...but when there are witnesses, something gets cemented. Developed.

Just another thing convincing me of our need for community in this life.

Charles Mackay said: “Men, it has been well said, think and operate in herds; it will be seen that they go totally mad and even commit suicide in herds, while they only recover their senses slowly, and one by one.”

There is so much more to say, but this quote resonated with me after I got home...I felt a sense of clarity again after this experience. A "recovering of my senses." It was good that we were leaving the herd on the train, and it was good that my 8 year old was learning to do it so early. I pray God cements it into him, and allows him to develop the character that enables him to do so in every relationship, every circumstance, every opportunity and every challenge in life.

And I hope God does the same in Shade's dad.

More to come.

The Nations cry out...as do my Neighbors

2008-07-18T14:44:00.001-07:00

In India, there is a 40 year old native minister of a church of about 120 people, who has a ministry team of 4, and is training at least a dozen young men in a preacher school he is running...who wants to understand, comprehend, and teach the difference between church-focused thinking and Christ-focused thinking.

In Zimbabwe, there are dozens of located, local, native ministers trying to love people in the most horrific of national, political, health, and humanitarian situations who are hungry for and desperately in need of understanding the difference between getting the people to meet together on Sundays for a worship service to praise Christ and getting the people to come into intimate friendship with and become more like Christ.

In Russia, there is a small group of Christians that decided to accept Christ shortly after Russia opened it's doors to outsiders, and they are good people who love Christ, but because of internal issues and external fears have forced them to stop meeting together in the building they were using and need desperately to understand that just because they aren't meeting in a building does not mean that they cease being a group of disciples that are in relationship with each other, and by so doing they are still the church.

In Australia, there is a faithful and influential minister of the gospel of Christ who grasps the difference between trying to change the world for the Kingdom by making disciples of Jesus Christ through intentional relationships or by maintaining a certain worship service structure among existing churches...but the churches that he loves and serves among need to open their minds to the idea that zeal for Christ means to love people like Christ did, not win arguments against other denominations about certain doctrines.

I have been invited, recently, to each of these places by these people and the people who love them in order to love and teach and share and fellowship around the idea of teaching the heart, mission, character and priorities of Christ. Each place and people could and would accept as much or as little time as I would invest in them...and I would be lying if I said my heart didn't want to go...to each and every place and people. My desire borders on a feeling of need.

"I need to go to Russia."
"I need to go to India."
"I need to go to Australia."
"I need to go to Zimbabwe."

These feelings and stirrings grow out of a combination of my relationships with people there or here who love the people there, the message they are asking for being the message I carry, and my great and growing love for the world. But, alas, each sentence, each desire, seems to call out for my whole life...and I only have one.

And in the one that I am living...my neighbors seem to be in equal need, and I have been invited into their worlds as well. Trying to list them all would take all week.

How important is it then, that the whole global church be activated? That each and every follower, as a functioning part of the Kingdom, identify and utilize their spiritual role to play so that the world may know that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life?

I'm preaching this Sunday on the desperate plea of Paul in Eph 4 where he says, "I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received." He goes on to say that Christ has deposited in each one of his children a gift of grace...some are apostles, some prophets, evangelists, teachers, or pastors. And we need every single one to function.

That the nations and our neighbors may be loved with the life-giving love of Christ.

God help us.

Counting Down to our Ascent Up

2008-07-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

My 8-year-old son Shade and I will be leaving this Sunday with our buddies Keith and Zach for Durango, CO to spend the night in a bed for the last time Sunday night before boarding the Durango-Silverton Train only to be dropped off at a wilderness trailhead where we will backpack 6-7 miles into the beautiful Chicago Basin, a valley full of waterfalls and surrounded by 14,000 ft. mountains.

There are at least two reasons that God has made crystal clear for why Shade and I are going on this trip.

1. For me to pick something up that my heart loves that I let go of long ago (mountainclimbing).

2. For Shade to have an experience that is difficult and requires "strength" to push through.

It promises to be an incredible trip for all four of us. Full of beauty, fun, life, challenge, and adventure on all fronts. Thank you for praying for our safety and growth, which even though they don't often come together, we are eager for both.

And thank you to everyone who bid on, bought, or passed the word about my book-selling, fund-raising effort for this trip. Shade and I went shopping for our gear yesterday and are almost finished. I have put four more cool books up for auction towards this end...

This one is a very cool, old Bible published in the USA within a generation of our country's birth!

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=230271274379&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=013

This one will interest Church of Christ/Restoration history buffs, a collection of 12 sermons from NB Hardeman (yes, the founder of Freed-Hardeman college)...

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=230271252553&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=013

This one is cool, too. A century by century, concise history of the church since the 1st century...

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=230271236576&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=013

And finally, another sweet, old, leather Bible...

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=230271262367&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=013

I love you all and will report back when we return with some pictures!

FW: (gracEmail) why serve among Churches of Christ?

2008-07-09T07:25:00.001-07:00

Edward Fudge wrote the following article about why he serves among Churches of Christ that would be included among the reasons I serve in the Churches of Christ. I wanted to share them with you, but also share Ed with you, because he is a follower, scholar and friend that has blessed me so much with his writings, teachings, and (way too few) personal interactions.

He has a blog/distribution list called gracEmail that I highly recommend and you can subscribe at http://www.injesus.com/index.php?module=group&task=subscribe&GroupID=DA007Q4Q

For those who are keeping up...my son Shade and I leave for our mountain climbing trip out of Durango, CO with our good friends Keith and Zach in less than two weeks!

Pray for our strength.

gracEmail®
Edward Fudge

WHY SERVE AMONG CHURCHES OF CHRIST?

Various gracEmail subscribers ask why I am connected with the Churches of Christ instead of some other Christian tribe or movement. They ask for different reasons, depending on their own experience and perspective.

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My home base is with the Churches of Christ because that is where God has placed me for now. If I ever sense that God is leading me to a different subdivision on the Christian map, I will not hesitate to move. The truth is that I am at home wherever believers worship God, proclaim Jesus Christ, teach the Bible, live in the Spirit and love each other. The spiritual address is irrelevant.

I also remain in this nondenominational movement of my youth because I have complete freedom of understanding and conscience. I have a congenial home congregation, the Bering Drive Church of Christ in Houston, Texas, in which I have served as a teacher and an elder since 1982. A new generation of Churches of Christ is coming on the scene: one focused on Jesus Christ rather than on a church system, that proclaims justification by grace through faith rather than salvation through human effort or doctrinal conformity, and that enjoys fellowship with other believers based on commitment to Jesus rather than on sectarian allegiance or denomiinational membership.

I also reside among the Churches of Christ because I appreciate their founding ideals. The 19th-century Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement from which it sprang began with the goal of uniting Christians under the leadership of King Jesus without regard to human traditions or creeds. Its founders' vision was to be "Christians only, but not the only Christians." It adopted the more ancient slogan, "In matters of faith, unity; in matters of opinion, liberty; in all things, charity." It professed to "speak where the Bible speaks and to be silent where the Bible is silent." It offered freedom of conscience to individuals and autonomy to congregations. I find these ideals to be biblical in origin, refreshing in theory and hospitable for daily living on the ground.

Not everyone in Churches of Christ enjoys the freedom of which I speak, or encouragement in their local fellowship, or healthy gospel preaching from the pulpit. I encourage them to work for such results as God gives opportunity. If the doors are slammed shut in their face, these individuals must sometimes leave the "home-folks," as the Apostle Paul was required to do, and go where God is leading. When that happens, I confidently commend them to his tender care. I deeply regret that some among these churches have been brainwashed to believe that they have no other spiritual option. Those who are responsible for such nonsense will one day answer to God.

For more on the Churches of Christ, click here.
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