Stopping and Going

Stopping is a difficult discipline.

Resting is also a difficult discipline.

I live an unsustainable life. God is making that clear. I'm like a fusion of the Tortoise and the Hare.

In that classic Aesop's fable, the Tortoise and the Hare have a race which the hare knows he can't lose. So every time he loses sight of the tortoise he takes a nap. But because he is lazy, the tortoise, who has been steadily plodding along the entire time wins! The moral? Slow and steady wins the race. Eugene Peterson alludes to a similar reality in his book title, "A Long Obedience in the Same Direction" where he challenges believers to have the long term view of discipleship and growth.

This is a great message! Unless, of course, you are me... because it then becomes "slow and steady wins the race" and "speedily never stopping must be even better"! And so I find myself living a frenetic life that never... stops. Until I crash that is! ;)

Both images are flawed if applied to our spiritual growth, I feel. One (the Hare) ascribes to a sprint methodology, living off of spiritual highs, a roller-coaster faith that is always wildly swinging between extremes. The other (the Tortoise) plods forward, driven by the need for sanctification, but making no space to stop, to rest, ultimately crashing, like the hare, only later and harder.

What is a better image for the appropriate rhythms of life, that neither fall into a "hare-like" sprinting and crashing or a "tortoise-like" driven-ness?

Thoughts?

In a Bangkok Redlight District

This poem was birthed from an experience I had prayer walking in Patpong. As we exited onto Silom road, I saw this young girl, with her mom.

Some of our team this summer will be going into the redlight districts with Nightlight. Be praying for them as they try to bring Jesus' love into some of the darkest places of the city.
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In a Bangkok Redlight District

She is barely five—or six?

When I catch sight of her…

Walking

hand grasping the hand that

Pulls

her behind her mother

Weaving

through the streets

surrounded

by Darkness

encroaching upon her red summer dress.

Colorless people shove their way through

crowds

of tourists throwing their money

away for a trinket

high priced ornaments

to take home and put on coffee tables

and fire places

and hang on walls

as the red lights above

blink and

swirl and

invite

you to the show

Inside.

The young girl blankly stares

Lost in the throngs

Of people

Red dress and Red lights

her innocence

surrounded by

decadence that threatens to

swallow

her

but

she does not know, and so it can’t.

not as long

as that hand that holds her

does not let go.

I hope it will never let her go.

Tom Robbins on Bangkok

"Simultaneously a frantic, high-tech juggernaut and a timeless Asian dream, Bangkok straddles like no other metropolis the boundary between acrid and sweet, soft and hard, sacred and profane. It’s a silk buzz saw, a lacquered jackhammer, a steel-belted seduction, a digital prayer. Its numerous temples and shrines are obscured by clouds of mephtic exhaust, its countless vices and crimes by smiles of tender delight; and through it all, Bangkok manages to maintain the most graceful balance, a grace no less genuine for being well-rehearsed and no less pure for being supported by con men and whores."

- Tom Robbins (Villa Incognito)

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For those of you who don't know Tom Robbins, this post-hippie writer spent much time in Thailand and out of this time spawned a number of books. In my creative writing class, he was recommended to me after I read some pieces that included my experiences in Bangkok. I decided to look him up online and ran across this quote from one of his books which struck me as a profound (if secular) view on the paradoxical nature of Bangkok.

Bangkok is a nation of smoke and mirrors, the land of smiles masking (as he says) vices and crimes in the form of political corruption, human trafficking, massive pollution and prostitution.
And so it is that Bangkok draws people escaping from pain into a place where Hedonism brings meaning. Or at least that is what "Bangkok" represents to the west.

What do I hope to see? This summer I hope to press in and discover who actually lives, breathes and works, beneath the gilded exterior that is promoted to the rest of the world. How do they live? How do they interact with the dual reality that is Bangkok? What does justice and shalom speak prophetically with judgment and hope to a well-rehearsed grace, that is ingenuous and supported by con artists and whores...

Bangok 09: Thoughts

"Thai history compresses what happened in the US in 100 years into 10!"

This was my U.S. History teacher's favorite piece of wisdom and insight and he had us map and compare the country we all lived in (Thailand) against the country we were studying (USA) all year long. And it was true! The industrial revolution took place in a decade in Bangkok, dizzying growth, exports, economic gain. When I arrived as a 4 year old in 1988 one of the tallest buildings was the six story YMCA. Go back down Sathorn road and you won't even see it! It's still there, hidden behind all of the 40+ story buildings around it. The old and new would clash in urban Bangkok, temples against sky rises as the country grew by leaps and bounds.

But in 1997 the Asian Financial Crisis hit, and in 2001 the war on terrorism caused new tension with the Muslim south, then the coup, now political turmoil and most recently the recent Global Recession... what is happening in Thailand?

The country has seemed to fade a bit. The height of its popularity being the mid-90s when all was well for the country. And now it is another South East Asian post-industrialization, still developing, nation.

Without God

Still

after 150 years of Christianity in the country.

Why God, have you not moved in Thailand like we would hope? And if you are... where is it? These are the questions I am going to Thailand asking along with one critical third question: What is my role?

So tell me what you think. What do you think of where Thailand stands? Is the country on the verge of crumbling, or is God doing something new/unseen that I have yet to discover.

More specifically, what role will Bangkok, the capital city and economic hub, play in the economic and spiritual revival of the country as a whole?

Let me know!

Sunsets...

I love sunsets... the beauty of the fading light leaves me breathless and so when I was asked to do a poetic self-portrait for a class, this is what came out of that time. Sunsets which link the different places I've been and the ways in which God speaks peace to me through those places.

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When I get the time

to watch the sun fade

behind the houses & hills of LA

The glimmers of light

stretching

across

the sky in yellow fading to purple

And I remember similar glowing colors

watching the skyline in Bangkok Thailand

As I would walk through the city

And cross over the

city streets

cars speeding by

below,

away, to the east

away from the rich display of sunlight,

fading,

refracting,

bouncing off of

noxious gas molecules and pollution

that for one moment unlock

a deeper,

more vibrant

beauty

in the fading sun.

And I stand in awe, sweat staining my back as I trudge through the city of my youth.

And I remember similar glowing colors

sitting atop a squatter community in Manila Philippines

With towering cumulonimbus clouds

forcing the

Sun's rays around them,

so that the light spills

through

every

crack

and

crevice

as it flows towards the dark east,

changing through

every color

of the

Rainbow.

And I sit, and God tells me,

"this is where you should be."

New Eyes, New Vision

New Eyes result in new vision.

New eyes is Dorothy's green tinted glasses as she finally enters the emerald city. It is Tom Cruise's new implant as he runs, a fugitive in Minority Report. It is Neo waking up and using his real eyes for the very first time.

When you are given new eyes it brings new perspective. You look out at an object, person, place, experience and see it anew. Different aspects, different wrinkles and creases pop out to you. And you form new opinions and ultimately new vision.

I'm going through an "new eyes" experience right now as I prepare to return to Bangkok Thailand this coming June 16th. I'm helping to lead a Global Trek for InterVarsity. For those of you who want more information my prayer letter is here.

I go back to Thailand with new eyes for the first time. Going to Thailand has meant "going home" and "going on vacation" for my entire life. But going for ministry? This is new. This will be a new view of the country. A new perspective. And especially it will be a new opportunity to listen to God's voice fresh. I want to know if I'm called to go back to this place one day. I want to see the Thai people the way God sees the Thai people, not just as the people who populated the habitat of my growing years. I want to grow in compassion, love, and vision for Thailand. I want to capture God's vision.

That should always be our goal. To be granted to see things through Jesus' eyes. And perhaps this is the process of spiritual growth and formation. Forming our minds eye and spirit's eye to see what our Jesus sees.

Right now I'm taking a creative writing class and exploring using my five senses to capture image and character and story. And I'm seeing things new. Perhaps the next discipline is to take these things I'm learning and submit them to the tutelage of the Holy Spirit.

Be praying for me!

I plan on posting more on Thailand as I prepare for the trip. Keep posted!

The Odd Economy of the Creative

I was told that my last blog was lame. But I was forgiven. Thank you blogging community! With that fresh start let me talk a little bit about something that I have met face first this week.

writer's block

I was supposed to write a monologue for my creative writing course. I enrolled in this course (at PCC) to give me an outlet and structure for working on my writing. And so far it had done its job well. Until this project.

I had set aside 3 and a half hours on Monday to work on my monologue, for which I had 3 or 4 ideas. Three hours later I had four sentences written, none which I liked.

So the next day found me, again, setting aside three hours for this project. After which I still had nothing, but instead fell asleep on my couch, pen in hand. I panicked.

So today at work I set aside time to work on this project and sentence by painful sentence constructed half a page of text. That I didn't like.

I was stuck.

And so I did what I knew I had to do. I threw it all out.

And the next idea that popped in my head I ran with, and had a rough draft in 25 minutes.

And so I am left realizing that the economy of the creative is an odd economy. Hours of work are necessary, but do not guarantee success. And in the end all it takes is one idea.

I don't usually work well in this economy. It is an economy of serendipity, of chance, of moment, of grace. I like the time I clock in to count. And when it doesn't I quickly spiral out. And it gives me pause to think and wonder if perhaps I can learn something small from the economy of the creative.

Blog Fail (not to be confused with failblog)

Blog Fail, to fail at blogging.

It shouldn't be that hard, to blog twice a month. But here I find myself, halfway into April and nothing to be said for March.

How did it come to this? I know not, but I come and ask for penance from my blogging peers and beg that you allow me a chance to catch my breath and put the pen to paper, finger to keys, once again.

Thank you!

Looking out the window

The Dean of the School of Psychology came up to the third floor last week. Giving the rare presentation to students he left his corner, 1st floor office and found himself peering into my small shared office.

"How are things up here?" He asked. We shrugged and mumbled some string of words expressing our relative okay-ness.

"Wow, you guys sure have the view!"

We nodded, because you are supposed to agree with the Dean of the School of Psychology and smiled.

Usually Janneke (my coworker) and I feel bad for ourselves, alone on the third floor. The rest of the staff team on the 1st floor. The physical distance is difficult and isolating. But the consistent staring at papers, documents, and especially computer screens has left me ignoring the window.

Being on the third floor means a view over towards North East Pasadena, the hills in the background. And as I look now I can see the mountains behind, the air cleared up by all of the rain. Clouds are gliding across the sky in numbers, tracing patterns Los Angeles usually is not blessed to see.

The wind is carrying them into the east and I sit, behind sealed windows, for once enjoying their slow, peaceful and inexorable movement away from me. This picture is one I don't usually enjoy. I take neither the time nor the energy to sit and watch. In the midst of my frenetic and harried work days looking out the window either feels wasteful or a mockery of my place in front of screen glare and the physical bureaucracy of paperwork.

The sun continues to set and the clouds lose their brilliance, at least for now. Until tomorrow, as long as the rain lingers and the sky will again light up with beauty from the interplay of light and dark, clouds and sky. And I will continue to watch from behind sealed windows. I will sit and watch and wonder whether to feel the somber loss of my sterile environment or sit in thankfulness that I get to see anything at all.

Telling the Story

This post was inspired by a talk by Ira Glass [hattip: Kottke.org] I listened to at work today. Ira Glass is the host of this American Life, the most listened to podcast on the internet currently, an amazing story teller and one of the most articulate people I've heard on the art of story telling.

Listen to the lecture, it is interesting and engaging, and full of great tips on telling a good story. But one thing he says is how telling a story is two fold. The first is the actual narrative of the story. The process of "first I did this, and then this, and so this happened, and in the end this." The second is connecting the story to a larger, more universal theme... the part that makes the story have meaning and resonance for more than the one person who told it.

In the Christian circles I find myself running in (and I often do run in circles), this is called the action/reflection cycle. The fact that we must act, then we must reflect. That the process of reflection is as important as the action that proceeds it. It is within that space that we allow God to speak and to unveil meaning, direction and insight.

Where I think we can learn, is often we reflect so quickly in our pursuit of God's voice, that we turn our experiences into trite life lessons, where we learn patience, love, trust and faith all in quick succession. I remember sitting with my family as a child doing evening devotions. Dad would get out the "One-year devotional for Teens!" (notice the exclamation point... it helps make the bible more interesting and exciting for teenagers and instantly rids them of all their angst) and we as a family would read a story about a young girl or boy, who was lied to by a friend at school. Her mother will sit her/him down patiently (as all mothers do) and help the young one understand that even though she is angry, she needs to forgive her friend.

At the end there would be a memory verse and a series of questions. "Have you been hurt before?" "Who do you need to forgive today?" Appropriate questions for my 12 year old mind. The devotional would continue to dispense with these moral lessons all year, teaching us to forgive, to give to others, to be kind to old ladies, to treat our teachers with respect. And in the process I learned that the story is merely a tool towards a greater purpose. God uses stories to teach us to be good. I encountered this in most Christian fiction, dramas for vacation bible school, and in preacher's sermons.

This reality is a sad one. What I am learning from Ira is that you need to tell the story first.

In this life of pursuit of Jesus, this life of discipleship, our story is reality. The moralizing is not. We walk along the path of our story. The grit, failures, successes of our life are our story. As we live life and walk along this path, we then reflect so that God can remind us why we walk, why we strive, to give us inklings as to where we are on the map of his greater plans. When we forget the importance of the story, it's as if we have stopped walking, contenting ourselves with analyzing a map of the road.

We could learn from Ira Glass. That the story comes first. That the story needs to be told and that we need to invite people into the turmoil of our story. We want them to hang on to every moment as we reveal step by step how we have fallen, picked ourselves up and continued to walk. How we have struggled with cross-bearing decisions and have chosen for ill or for good. How we have sat in times of darkness and are still not completely sure we see the light. And then, and only then, when in our vulnerability we have opened ourselves up to be critiqued, ridiculed, or worst ignored, then we can pause and ponder, "God, what is it that you are leading me into? What is the greater story?". For it still necessary to understand who we are amidst the grand landscape of God's sovereign motion and movement, but let us not be too hasty to say we know where we are.

note: The devotional above was not the one we used as kids. I just thought it was "awesome" :). On another side note, my parents often couldn't stand some of the devotionals either and so we would have good conversations off of that. My parents are awesome, the devotional materials of the early 90s... so so.

The call to create

Five days ago I took up the challenge of the blank page.

The challenge posed by the blank page as it stares at me, daring me to pollute its clear, ordered, lined surface. It sits in scorn of my feeble attempts to create new order, thought, or meaning in messy black scrawls. I feel inept and unfit for the task.

To my hope and chagrin, I have a community of friends who have taken up the same challenge, and they will push and drag me till I decide to soldier on. And I am further pushed by the call to create.

This new understanding of creation comes from a book I recently read and I offer you this tidbit below.

The author reflects on "An Artist in His Studio" and he muses, "I have come to see [the Artist] not primarily as a portrait of a person but of a posture. The artist steps back from his work. His weight is on his back foot--he is contemplating, waiting, watching. But the brush is already in his hand. he will soon step forward to the canvas that looms before him with all its possibility and danger. He contemplates in order to act. he is still in order to move. He is alone in order to offer something to others. He is small and humble, recognizing that what he is creating is in some sense more lasting and of greater import than himself. But he is also dignified by this moment of waiting and watching. The painting depends on him, on his willingness to risk being a creator."

That is the challenge of the blank page... to risk being a creator. To take the God-given experiences, stories, insights, knowledge, and make something new.

Perhaps in creation... the ephemeral nature of truth is concretized for a moment, and I will be given the grace to see God.

Do I believe in New Years Resolutions?

First, an apology for the 3 month disappearing act! Returning from Manila and transitioning back into life in America was a blitz and if you would like to hear more about it, call me and we can sit down and talk. :) Rather than write a 3-month reflection blog... I figured I would jump back into it with the thoughts that are actually on my mind.

With that said...
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Do I believe in resolutions?

January 1st is a world-wide accepted marker for the beginning of something new. Measuring our lives in seconds, minutes, hours, work weeks, months... this is the beginning of a new year. Now, is the time to experience a freedom from the mistakes, regrets, and failures of the previous 52 weeks and walk forward free to dream again. But what makes this day any different then yesterday?

Was it the count down with friends, the singing of Auld Lang Syne (you know, that song everyone starts singing but no one knows the words to), the champagne that gives the New Year signficance? Is it Pope Gregory and his final adjustments to the Calendar the world now accepts as standard that gives this day significance?

While I was in college, the New Years was only as significant as the people I was around. Personally, the end of the school year had muchmore meaning, as I launched myself into summer having completed another year of classes, bible studies, and college life.

But as I sit here celebrating the day after new years at my favorite coffee shop I felt like there was something about 2009 that I had to take note of and acknowledge.

I'm at a crossroads. And because I'm at a crossroads, 2009 stands before me as another menacing "year of transition". Transition is good for us, it is in the midst of transition that we grow and mature. But transition is hard because it is often vague, and the journey is much hazier then the vision for the end result. I currently am not looking forward to 2009...

But as I've spent some days in reflection and rest... I realize that God is calling me to vision with Him. To have goals and dreams. Both for personal formation and for accomplishments and the future.

One thing I desire to do is write more.

All of you need to keep me accountable for this okay?