Prayers and Doubt

Can't remember when I wasn't able to write, but that's been me since Christmas.  Every reason I had to write from motorcycle trips to family and friend turmoil to my obvious calling into Counseling were also the reasons I couldn't write.  I've resolved to write again.  I might move further into poetry.  I did a reading a few weeks ago and one of the sponsoring writers came up to me after reading and said, "Your stuff is upper tier, world class even."  I don't yet know what to do with that information, and I'm not sure what I'll write.  But I know what God's put in me to do, writing being one of them.

I'll write when I can really, but I hope to twice a week.  Every Tuesday and Thursday, I'll write; about what I've no idea.  Maybe I'll write what I've learned from family and friends.  We had a horrible storm here not long ago, you would've enjoyed hearing how fast friends dropped what they were doing to help us and others.

I guess we all write about faith in one sort or another.  God reveals faith to us in greater and maturing stages throughout life, but we all had all the faith we needed the day we were born.  The lot of us, our stories, enlightens others and ourselves to our faith enduring and growing.

Mine's confused me and strengthened me since Christmas.  I took my first motorcycle trip through the back roads of rolling Iowa.  "May the hills rise up to meet you...", they did.  But God parted clouds; it was a day before the trip and it looked like rain.  I prayed for no rain, but also told God, "If you make it rain, that'll be ok too," thereby letting God off the "hook."  More importantly, I realized that doubt laces most prayers--"but if you don't, it's ok."  God parted clouds, not because he felt guilty--but I believe he watched us ride, and while there were other reasons God didn't make it rain where we were, I think he intended to give us dry ground, and he intended to teach me about prayer laced with doubt--a loving "what not to do" lesson from God.

Maybe I'll write about the news or politics or the American people.  We'll see I suppose.

I'll figure it out on Thursday, but bet it'll be about some way God prodded me to see him; happens all the time.  There are reasons God took me away from here for awhile--those secrets will be told eventually.

Either way it's good to see you today God.

Fair Warrior

On Wednesday October 21st, 2009 I couldn't imagine one person smiling in Praise all day long.  On Thursday October 22, 2009 I didn't have to.


His skin, fair and frail... sensitive even.  I was with friends at the International House of Prayer in Kansas City and he was there.  His arms were thin; his watch crawled a third of the way up his arm.


His skin was so fair as to be red from his forearm down the sides to his palm and through the pinky finger.  He wore bright white fingernails. I'd seen as much on an infant.  I almost felt that he had only a short time ago been born.


He smiled as if he were woven into the basket of the arms of God, the womb of the groom.  I guess I don't know his life story, I don't know if he's experienced anything.  I imagine a man with arms stretched out that far has.


He was certainly not muscular; medium build I suppose...a small medium.  He wasn't fat, not lanky...not anything except fair.  His orange colored short sleeve shirt ran past his shoulder above his arms, arms marked not by muscle, but by sensitive skin.  A weight lifter's shirt holds tight to the arm, fixed and sure.


I'd take him easy.  Seriously, I'd break his arm if we arm wrestled.  You see, I have strong arms, chiseled even.  I can flex my pecs with the best of them.  Lose a few more pounds and I've got a wash-board stomach.


Yet his arm lifted toward God.  His hands gently swayed back and forth as if God held them and danced--as if God enjoyed the worship with his son.  In fact I can say for sure God did.  


His hands rose high on the pivot point called a shoulder for the better part of four hours--held in praise, held high like Moses himself holding Israel's enemies back.  I don't know what enemy languished by this young man's prayers and praise.


On Wednesday I had a lifter's view of strength.  On Thursday I knew much more strength's definition from God's dictionary.  On Thursday I realized I understood little of might and muscled praise, excpt by the example of a fair skinned warrior in a loose orange shirt.


My shoulders hurt not far after five minutes.


He could take me to be sure.  He broke me after five to seven minutes, beat me by four hours. I'd guess there's no way he'd harm me much though beyond his gentle and trustworthy example ... a slight but kind rebuke from a slight-bodied boy who's wash-board was found closer to the heart.  He'd never hurt me.  We're brothers, the bride of Christ.  By his fruit, by his faith I knew him and his strength.  I saw the ancient faith of Abraham in his mighty heart.  I saw one who knew in whom he believed, like Timothy.  I eavesdropped on one who would lead hosts of Christians, like Paul, simply by raising his hands for four or more blessed hours.


All that and he didn't look like much.  Last in the gym, but by God, first where it really mattered.


I'll find him in heaven one day.  Like with Paul and Peter, Elijah and others, I'll probably have a conversation with him, and I'll take notes.


Notes taken by a muscled follower from an interview with a fair warrior.

The Wind

The words in the song say something like "Party like it's 1969". I can't even remember who wrote it. There's an old Blues tune by the same name. New Year's Eve I partied like it was 1939. I did. The average age of the party was somewhere well over 60.

Christmas celebrations define a time "when", right? At least Christians celebrate an event which doesn't move. It is the birth of Christ. The events within that story happened within that year. The birth of Christ didn't happen one year and then again ten years later. Even if you celebrate a winter soltice, or a fat guy in a fat suit riding in a fat sleigh with energetic reindeer, including one with a shiny nose, they all have something in common. They don't change. Soltice is, we know that. Santa never ages or grows any fatter (but who can really tell at 2 a.m. when he slides down your chimney right?). New Year's is different. In fact it's the only celebration that celebrates the passage of time, not the time "when". Even your own birthdays mark the day you were born, a day frozen in time. New Year's feels like wind. We're prompted to set resolutions, talk about the unknown, relish in all that was last year with friends, family and hoards of New Year's letters received and written. We don't just get cake and a favorite meal, we celebrate with feasts of great magnitude! There are a great many songs about the New Year and only one about my birthday.

And so it was the New Year's Eve. We partied like it was 1939. We'd invited some of our younger friends, but none could come for one reason or another. So I partied with Don, Herm, Jerry, Glen and others, most who've seen a much greater life span than I. Oh, I played games and messed with the tots that night of course. I had a busy and playful night. But I loved my time with the old guys.

They remembered a day back here or there. Days when Newton Iowa was this way or that way. They remembered days when simple illnesses were major events. I heard one story about life before World War II and I found out that people's attitudes or ways of being weren't much different than they are now. So these old guys--I suppose some of them only have a grunt of life left in their bodies. But we talked, smiled, laughed and groaned about the winds that blew on other days well beyond my memory and I'm glad for it. I studied history in school, but I experienced some of it on New Year's Eve. Don begins many of his sentences with "Well ya know" and Glen often starts with "Why..." and not in question form either..."Why, back when I was 13 we worked..." and so on. They pray in "thee's" and "thou's" and a person like myself learns a little about reverence that way...yearns for that kind of reverence even.

I learned about days before fast food, a time when everyone had a garden and no one minded weeding and everyone loved to sneak a strawberry off the plant as they worked. The stories were blissfully familiar to them. I nodded and laughed as if I understood the wisdom offered by time. I told a few of my last year's motorcycle stories and Yellowstone stories and others, and they nodded and laughed too; maybe I gained some street cred, like twelve year old Jesus at the Synagogue.  But then they remembered riding their own bikes, about how mechanics weren't around every corner, about how they had to figure it out themselves. I'm thankful for mechanics...but I can see how I might benefit without them.

These guys are somewhat trapped by yesteryear and overwhelmed by today and yet tonight they'll all watch the six-o'clock news in digital high definition without wondering much about "where it all went."

But I'm thankful for winds, for parties with old and wise guys who are my old and wise friends, and I'm thankful for the day after, simply because I was with them. But I'm most thankful for the stories. Maybe one day a young lad will sit by my side listening to me regale about my own days--about the winds I remember.

So it was a great night and an unexpected night. The clock struck twelve, we prayed together, I kissed my lovely bride, and drank my champagne.  Then I lay in bed and I thought of the old guys. I would've enjoyed the company our usual crowd, the "yunguns" the old timers call us.  But as it was we might not have spent much time isolated into our own young circle because the golden morsels leaving the lips of the old guys would've mesmerized them too. I hope I remember the things I learned this New Year's night. I hope to party with them again because that is a great, fun, funny, knowledgeable group of guys. And I hope that every time I go outside, that I can hear the wind blow.

LIFELIGHT AND PRAYER

Monique and I attended the Lifelight Christian Music Festival with our family this past weekend (Labor Day Weekend). Good music...great weather...sweet memories. I love to go to the festival because of the music. But I think I enjoy Lifelight because my family is there. I had the priviledge of spending about 6 hours in 2 days at Wild Water West with my niece Leah. The water was cool and Leah was a trip. She's a brave little one and we had so much fun together. She wanted me to follow her down the slides, she wanted us to go under water with her, she loved to float, she loved the hotdogs and fries...and I loved all of it! Oh yes...and this one a festival at which I didn't spend even one second in a wheel chair! Halleluja! Praise God!

There are many ways I've enjoyed Lifelight--through pain, through bad weather, through family...however, one reason stands atop the entire list...the reason that keeps me coming back to lifelight. There's always at least one moment where God allows me to climb to the mountaintop and see God there. A friend of myself and Monique, her name is Anne Michelle (AM), spent much of the Lifelight festival with us and our family. Anne Michell "AM", is mostly deaf. I, tell you about her hearing loss because that is one of her characteristics, not because one constantly extracts that particular trait from her being. The deaf community is (or has been) particularly annoyed when their language is exposed or exploited. A lot of us wiggle our hands around, pretending to sign when we have no idea what we're doing. To them it's the same as when we make fun of the Asian language by contorting our faces and saying something weird (choi choi choi) in a what we believe is a chinese or Vietnamese accent etc. The deaf community is often isolated from you, and some of it is by choice. We can't be trusted not to make fun of them.

"AM" may have a few of those annoyances, I don't know. We haven't really had that conversation. It's never been an important thing to note within our friendship. What I do know is that she is an intelligent, patient and wonderful person. She's a teacher in the Des Moines area and a fervent Christian woman. Like anyone, she appreciates someone who can speak to her in a language she can "hear"...sign. Let me say that "AM" likes to simply hang out with her friends. We often spend time with her and talk and walk and laugh. If she didn't understand something she says "What?" and we repeat ourselves...never exploiting her, never unsafely exposing her. Sometimes I make fun and she says "You can't make fun of me, I'm hard of hearing!" and I say back "I'm handicapped too so I can tease you all I want!" to which she replies "Can you take it as well as you dish it?" The answer is yes, of course I can! But, we don't spend a ton of time teasing eachother. They're only moments that we acknowlege our "Specialties" and then we let them go again.

Monique and her have become very good friends and I know that my wife loves her dearly. Well, we both do, but her and Monique's friendship is a most pleasant thing for this husband to watch. Monique and I came home one day to find that "AM" was weeding our garden. She also stops by just to say hello, has gone to different events with us and she enjoys Monique's company after church etc. Most importantly I think that "AM" trusts Monique to keep her friendship safe from exploitation. Monique eagerly seeks to learn signs she doesn't know or doesn't remember. Monique had taken classes in sign years before and uses this skill while singing songs (In Church, at home, in the car...) and sometimes when speaking to "AM". "AM" gives the gift of lip reading to her hearing friends. She gives this gift daily to the world so that she can be part of the world and so the world can be part of her. She can hear words in a quiet environment but in noise like LIFELIGHT, hearing words is nearly impossible. So she reads lips. It's funny actually...reading lips is an asset, a way the hearing get "one-upped". One particular moment the music was so loud I couldn't hear myself think. There was no way two hearing people could engage in a conversation... but I turned to her and said something about the concert knowing that sound didn't matter, and she replied with an answer as if it was quiet as mouse...as if we were having a normal conversation! She spoke more slowly so I could read her lips but it was great. A Helicopter could be hovering 5 feet over your head and we could still talk to eachother. She'll teach you her language if you want to learn it...but if she knows you don't know her language, she doesn't use it around you. In a way, she doesn't expose herself to you until she trusts you with her weaknesses...actually she doesn't expose herself until she knows you can handle her strengths, a super sensitive lip-reading skill, sign language, and sensitive sense of smell and sight and an incredible set of facial expressions.

"AM" and her sister came to Lifelight this weekend. Her sister, of course, can sign and she would flip between sign language and spoken English to say...myself for instance! It's like Monique's mom and dad switching from Dutch to English at the drop of the hat and it's quite amazing to watch. "ASL" (American Sign Language) doesn't follow the typical English sentence structure so bopping from language to language is truly a skill. Monique and the two girls (and I and the family too) enjoyed being with them. Monique, AM, and Hannah would speak in sign to eachother once in awhile...and of course Niekje was learning new signs during their conversations. But God gave Monique a breath of fresh air one evening. Chris Tomlin was on stage and the words to the songs were coming up on the Giant screens. Monique wasn't having a great evening...she didn't feel well, she was a little bit grouchy, she was a little bit angry with me for something I said to her and she was tired...but AM and Hannah stood together and were singing in sign and mouthing the words...well, Hannah was actually also singing outloud. AM was in a safe environment and was enjoying the peace of music in her language. I encouraged Monique to stand with them and sing with them. She refused. I told her that signing always helps her and changes her spirit. She didn't say anything and continued to sit. I didn't touch her, I only sang with Chris, hoping that she would come around...she loves Chris Tomlin. For some reason she stood up. I don't know why to this day. Niekje didn't need to be welcomed into AM and Hannah's presence...she was always welcome there. They began to sign...Monique at first tentative, not wanting to mess up, not wanting to break AM's focus...but it wasn't long until the Holy Spirit was fresh among them. AM feels the beat of a song and, if she is familiar with the music, can follow a song well, even if she's not always looking at the words. God is here right now, and I know that He was amongst us then. It's rare for me to see the Holy Spirit so fresh amongst His people...that's kind of a sad statement, but it's true. However, he was amongst those girls in a way that I won't forget. At that moment, AM didn't have to worry that her language was being misused. She trusted her friend with her language that night, as she always does. And she trusted her friend as they prayed together. That night, 6 eyes were closed, and they sang together "Indescribabe" by Chris Tomlin. Their hands moved in unison...a prayer for the ages. God brought me to the mountaintop so that I could see what it is to be righteous, what it is to be generous, what it is to be completely within the loving touch of God. He taught me one more thing and I'll tell you what it was in a moment. Monique stood with her friend and prayed in a common language with her. Monique was greatly rejuvenated...she trusted her friend with her somewhat gritty disposition and they simply prayed together... God again moved my disposition. But, it was bigger than that...not about me or them or my family...God was and is. It's that simple. I love that such trusting and loving friendships exist still. But, even though God is faithful and just and loving and kind we often don't trust him with our grit. Will not He act faithfully in friendship as Monique and AM have done with eachother? Won't He, in even a much greater way keep you in ways you can't even think to ask or imagine?

The most important lesson for that night was that I discovered it was a privilege for me to present my wife before God knowing that she would find her rest and that God would be faithful in that. She is my body and I present her before you. She is my example of righteousness, of knowledge, of skill, of stamina, of perseverence, of Godliness, of patience, of stalwart attention to ministry, of morality, of generosity...I am humbled by my bride and I intend to keep "my body" pure...we are one and so when I do something harmful, she is harmed. When I say something prideful, she is humiliated...when I do something terrible, she is crushed. I was mean to her that day...not the whole day, just a moment in time, but, she was exposed and exploited and in that, I left her out in the cold...my body naked and exposed. And yet God was willing to show me what it is to protect a friend when He prodded her to stand and pray with her friend in a language they knew together.

That was my Lifelight moment...I hope to stand with my wife in prayer, in scripture and in peace. I hope you won't see me exploit her in front of you like I have in the past. I hope that you won't see me make fun of her in front of you. I hope that you won't see me cause vulnerability within her in front of you. In fact, don't expect it...I mean not to.