Poetry on the Fly

Sometimes I do this weird thing where I write in my journal whatever pops into my head--doesn't have to make sense or be poetic. Sometimes it's just words, and I try not to think about what I'm trying to say; try not to force it to go in any specific direction. I'm often surprised by what I find. It's kind-of cool. Whatdya say I try it now, and you can respond with comments written the same way--just for fun?

He wasn't awe-struck for misinterpretation's sake. He fell short only on occassion-- and then only with beautiful, painful harmony. The last words spoken keep night watch over the paul bearers. But Paul didn't mind it. He loathed and needed his solitude. Blasts of scorching wind move beyond where I'd been, but I'd do it all again for a taste of sunshine. Borders surround the town I once knew...and black beyond the clouds beckons as if to a stranger. Dream in peace. Sleep in the dark, and wake in the light. Drink deeply from the sea. And far off shore, when you see the trail, don't hide from me.

Weird. That sort-of turned into poetry. Maybe I'll coin a new phrase: "Poetry on the Fly"...what do you think?

The Great Holocaust

Ketchup from the past few months...

So much has happened since last I blogged. Let's catch up. Peyton and Jordan were a flamingo and an elephant for the Jesus Loves You Party, and they were too adorable! Zack was John the Baptist's head on a platter for our church costume contest (I made the costume). Zack gave his notice at the church, and they announced to the church that we were leaving about the middle of November. Zack and I celebrated our 2-year anniversary and stayed at a hotel on the beach in Tampa. So pretty=). Zack fell playing basketball and busted his chin open, badly sprained his wrist, bruised his jaw and skinned his knees, because of which we spent a night and a pretty penny at the Emergency Room getting stitches, tetnis shot, x-rays, and a good healthy slice of humble pie.

I purposely failed the Postal Battery Exam with flying colors (long story that involves me seeing a sign which promises to pay $20/hr to postal workers, me paying $100 for a study guide which promises to refund your $$ if you fail the test, and me realizing I can't work for the postal service--I mean, come on! People who work there kill themselves and their co-workers!) But Zack and I did pass the Florida Teacher's Subject Exam after 2 straight days of studying. With lots of help from Peggy, Lenny and Omar, Zack and I packed up all our stuff and moved to Oldsmar.

There was a sad farewell party for us at the church, and we cried along with all the youth as we said our goodbye's after 4 1/2 years as the youth pastors there. The kids made us t shirts. Our last night there was our youth Christmas party, which was fun, as usual, with our crazy white elephant gift exchange.

Living with my parents again has been a bit of an adjustment--mainly because I didn't realize that I had accumulated enough stuff to fill a small country, and it was so stressful trying to fit all we have into a 15' x 10' storage unit and the room we now live in. It was kind-of crazy moving just before Christmas too. Christmas was sort-of strange this year, but spending it with the kids made it fun.

Oh, I almost forgot about Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving night, my 3 cousins, aunt, sister and I piled into Aunt Melonie's Tahoe and headed to the outlet mall in Orange Park for their sales that started at midnight. It was sheer madness. By the time we got back to Palatka, it was 3am, just enough time for me and Zack to go get in line at Walmart for their sale that started at 5am. We bought a laptop on sale, which was our big Christmas present to each other, but what we saved in money, we paid for in sleep deprivation. Zack and I ran the Gator Gallup, a 5k in Gainesville for their homecoming, which was pretty fun.

Peyton was so cute in the school Christmas play this year. She sang a solo. Zack and I are now just applying for teaching positions in Pasco and Hillsborough counties. He wants to teach 6-12 grade math, and I'm looking to teach k-6th grade. We will be attending the church a friend of Zack's pastors called "The Dwelling Place" in Lutz, starting tomorrow. Oh, and Rachel gave birth to chunky little Aiden Lawrence, and I got an up-close view of an episiotomy. The first boy in our family. He is too cute to behold. And, yes, we did shamelessly dress him in Gator attire for the last game.

In other news, Micah (Zack's brother) got engaged to his girlfriend Amy. Right now, we're just taking things one day at a time...looking for work...adjusting to not living on our own...praying our last paychecks last as long as possible. What next? I'll keep you posted.

A Free Gift

Last Saturday, Zack had this outreach planned for the youth group that I was a bit skeptical about. It was a soda and water outreach. We took a few hundred sodas and bottles of water in coolers of ice and went to the busiest intersection in Spring Hill and passed them out to people stopped at the light. They were free to anyone who wanted some. Along with the drinks, we gave them a card that said "We hope you enjoy this free gift from Third Degree student ministries of Family First Assembly." On the back were some scripture verses, one of which was the one in which Jesus says "He who drinks of Me will never thirst again." We held signs up that said "Free Water and Soda." Seemed simple enough.

It wasn't. This outreach impacted me more than anything has in a really long time. Why? Because people wouldn't take them. We would tell them they were free, that we wouldn't accept any donations, that we just wanted to bless them, and they just wouldn't accept them. At first, I didn't think it was a big deal. Then it sort-of started to hurt my feelings for some reason. Then I started to see so many spiritual analogies that I kept getting choked up, and I almost had to stop at certain times. It was a free gift. Why wouldn't people just take it?

Some people would roll their windows down, ask what it was about, then say they didn't need anything to drink. Some people assumed it was a scam or that there was some sort of catch, and didn't believe what we were saying. Some rolled their windows up as soon as they saw us approaching, or were too busy talking on their cell phones to notice us. So many times, the kids in the back seat would hear us explain to their parents that it was a free gift, and we would hear them say, "I want one, mom," but the parents wouldn't allow them to have it. My heart broke. It was hurtful to offer something to someone as a gift and have them reject it, even though it was just a drink.

I couldn't help but think about Jesus' free gift that so many of us assume comes with a catch, or are too proud to accept. I thought about kids who would willingly come, but whose parents prevent them. I thought about the people who wouldn't even look in our direction because they didn't want to be bothered or were too busy, and missed out on a gift of love.

There were some who tried to pay us, and even after we told them we wouldn't accept it, wanted to give us money because they couldn't accept it for nothing. And those we literally had to beg to take it. There were some who said "Oh, you're just trying to get us to come to your church" when they found out what we were doing. When people asked why, we told them we wanted to bless them, that it was free like God's gift to us. Most thought it was strange or asked how we expected to make money that way.

There were those who already had a drink in their car, and refused to accept ours because they said they didn't need one. One lady actually told me she didn't want one because she only drinks Pepsi products. It seemed that once one person at the beginning of the line rejected our gift, everyone after them who saw what they did, chose to do the same. They assumed if the person ahead of them didn't want it, they wouldn't either. They must know something they didn't. There must be a catch.

And then there were a few who saw a sign that said we had a free gift to offer them, and they wanted it. Some asked for more than one drink. And we loved that. We gave them as many as they wanted. Some seemed so moved by our act of love, and told us how much it meant to them to see love in action. Some thought it was strange, but still accepted it. One lady said, "I was just thinking to myself 'I'm so thirsty, I really wish I had a bottle of water,'" just as we walked over to hand her one. There were people who had probably been scammed before or fooled before or hurt before, and they still chose to give it a try. Those who genuinely appreciated what we were doing and saw that they needed what we were offering. It seemed the same was true of this group--once people saw those ahead of them take the drinks, they figured they would take one too. The choices made by those around them affected their decisions.

We loved it when people accepted our gift. It made us feel so good. And it was discouraging to see so many people miss out on a blessing out of ignorance or bitterness or busyness or pride. And I saw the heart of God that day. And my heart broke.

Matthew 7:11 says "If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" (NIV)

May I ever recognize my need of Him, ever be grateful, ever be watchful of my Father's gifts. The heart of the Father is the heart of a Giver. How it must break His heart for His children to reject His most precious Gift.

I wish I'd written this article...

Charisma Magazine -- May, 2005

Charismatic Idols
By J. Lee Grady

My heart sank in January when the Orlando Sentinel began running articles about prominent Christian recording artist Clint Brown, who pastors one of the largest churches in Central Florida. The news was bad: Brown and his wife, Angie, were embroiled in a divorce and were dividing their financial assets. After looking at court records, Sentinel reporters published Brown's salary, the cost of his two homes, the value of his seven cars (including a $95,000 Mercedes-Benz) and the amounts he spent on luxury items from pricey boutiques.

It was sad enough that a Christian leader's marriage was falling apart. It was sadder that the Browns were in court. But what was most tragic was that so many people in the Orlando area were hearing these reports about a pastor's lavish lifestyle. Of course, members of Brown's 6,000-member church defended him. But a larger group of already jaded unbelievers probably said to themselves, These preachers are all the same--they're just in it for the money.

We could argue all day about whether it's right or wrong for a minister of God to buy a $40,000 Rolex or pay $7,000 a month for his house. Brown draws a lot of his income from his recordings, and I will defend any person's right to make a decent living.

And besides, there's no rule in the Bible that says ministers can't own multiple properties or wear nice clothes. Church leaders are not required to be poor.

But the questions remain: Are Christian ministers, whose callings are a public trust, allowed to damage God's reputation--and smear the rest of us--by living any way they choose? Is it right to collect people's tithes--money that is set apart for a holy purpose--and use it to make ostentatious purchases?

Some prosperity preachers think so. It seems they've rewritten the Bible to suggest that greed is now a virtue.

I can't judge what is in Clint Brown's heart. I love his music, and I pray his marriage is restored. But his situation is further evidence that we face a crisis.

Greed has invaded the church. The message of Jesus has been hijacked by opportunistic preachers who use the pulpit to enrich themselves. They bombard our airwaves every day, selling promises of instant blessings in return for "$1,000 seeds."

Their message is like an oily, sleazy smog that threatens to suffocate us. This corruption has polluted our movement and maligned our witness.

I'm tempted to walk away from it altogether when I see such bold, flagrant disregard for biblical standards among leaders who claim to have a direct hotline to God. How I long for the innocent days when we didn't put a price tag on the Holy Spirit's anointing.

Rick Warren, the Southern Baptist pastor who wrote the book The Purpose-Driven Life, is not identified with the charismatic movement and has probably never given a "$1,000 seed" to any prosperity preacher. Yet his book has hovered near the top of a New York Times best-sellers list for a year and is now the highest-selling hardback book in American history. He has made millions in royalties, but one of the first things he did with his money was give back to his church every dollar they ever paid him in salary.

Warren and his wife also decided they would not upgrade their lifestyle just because they struck it rich. They started a charitable foundation and pledged to use their profits to fund missions projects.

This pastor's humble approach to success seems almost foreign to most of us. We forget that the early disciples were too radical about revival to be distracted by materialism. We overlook the fact that the apostle Paul--who wrote many of the Bible passages we preach about prosperity--spent his last days not in a mansion but in "rented quarters" (Acts 28:30, NASB).

I fear for the American church. Many of our leaders, behaving like Eli's immoral sons, are dipping their hands into the offering plate and taking by force things that don't belong to them (see 1 Sam. 2:12-17). Some of us are acting like Elisha's servant, Gehazi, who traded his spiritual calling for a little silver and a couple of nice outfits (see 2 Kings 5:20-27).

And in many of our churches, the spirit of Achan rules--a spirit that covets material things that God has said are off-limits (see Josh. 7:20-22). Achan's concealed greed caused all Israel to lose the battle. What will be the cost of the unrestrained selfishness we charismatics parade before the world?

Leaders in the New Testament church--who learned their theology while in prison--didn't care about expensive spa treatments, plastic surgery or Gucci handbags. Yet in many Christian circles today, we view these worldly status symbols as evidence of God's blessing.

May He forgive us for rejecting true worship to bow before golden calves.

Silent Siege

On Saturday, Zack, Meghan, Rebekah and I did a Silent Siege in Clearwater.
Total honks and waves received: 15-20.
Total obscene gestures received: 2.
Total success.

We stood with life tape on our mouths in front of the abortion clinic, praying and crying out to God on behalf of the babies who have no voice and the mothers who've been deceived into thinking they have no choice.

"Jesus, I plead your blood over my sins and the sins of my nation. God, end abortion, and bring revival to America."


Let me know if you're interested in participating in our next Silent Siege.

Date Night from Hell

Zack decided to take me out on a date tonight. He's been talking about it for a couple of days now. He has this thing about date night-- he feels the need to leave the house, drive back, ring the doorbell, and give me flowers when I answer the door.Then we do this awkward thing where we really pretend like we're on a first date...until it creeps me out and I tell us to stop. And tonight was no exception. We got ready and drove to Arigato's in Clearwater for dinner. It was fun and the food there is really good (although for $20+ per plate, I always think they should throw in a movie, or at least some extra rice). Afterwards we had decided we would go to the Melting Pot for dessert, but since we were still pretty full from dinner, we wanted to kill some time. None of the movies playing looked any good (why the heck is EVERYTHING rated R these days anyway?).

To give a little background, we had spent the day taking the Jetta (which we have come to quite literally loathe) to the mechanic once again, and once again being told that we will have to take it into the dealership where they will inevitably take 2 days longer to fix it than they say they will, charge us 17x's the actual cost to fix the car, then be totally and completely rude to us, all because they sold us a lemon, they know they sold us a lemon, and there's absolutely nothing anybody can do about it!!!!(...sorry, there's baggage there. Last total cost to fix the SPEEDOMETER: $1600. No, I'm not kidding, and, yes, I did get 2 tickets in the same week before we realized we had no other choice--true story).

Anyway, we had spent the afternoon discussing our hatred for the German vehicle, that our next car will have to be a Toyota or a Honda, and possible options on how to get rid of it. So, after dinner, Zack casually says, to kill time, we should go look at cars. Sounds fun to me. But... wow--you need more background. Okay, it should just suffice to say that Zack has a specific hatred for salespeople. No, I mean, he HATES being pressured to buy things. I remember 3 years ago when he bought the Jetta (this was before we were married). He got so mad at the salesman that I remember thinking "He isn't violent, is he? " I had never seen that side of Zack before. So, as we pull into the Toyota dealership, just as the salesmen start rushing to our car, Zack says maybe this is a bad idea. I tell him not to worry and that I'll do all the talking. We are just LOOKING. We stressed this to Kevin--the concept that we were just LOOKING. We weren't going to buy a car tonight, and he seemed to understand at first. We really liked the Toyota Matrix. Kevin asked if we wanted to test drive it. It started to rain. I said yes. We take it for a little spin. It's cute, and it drives good, and it has a LIFETIME warranty. Sounds good. Still, Kevin, remember? We aren't going to make any decisions tonight. He seems to understand. So, he starts asking financial information--just so he can give us some information to take home with us. No pressure, just paperwork. I feel my stomach start to rumble and I know I'm going to have to go to the bathroom. But I can't leave Zack all alone with Kevin. Kevin is a salesman, and up to this point, I'm sure he's picked out Zack as the weak one being that I've been the ONLY one to say a word thus far in the evening. He'll turn on Zack. And Zack may kill him. My stomach really starts to hurt now, and I know I'm going to have to make for the bathroom.

"I need to use the restroom." Zack looks at me with horror. When I return, Zack is almost finished with the paperwork, and his foot is tapping rapidly.

"Is everything Okay?" I ask. He doesn't answer, and Kevin comes back to the table with a folder. And, then, all at once, it happens. Before my very eyes, Kevin morphs into this creature--a creature who feeds on car sales and hasn't eaten in days. I can hear Zack's foot tapping faster, and I know we need to leave before things get ugly.

"No," I say politely, smiling, "we can't make a decision tonight. We don't even have any money to put down tonight." Kevin isn't looking at me anymore, though. He's staring straight at Zack.

"So, how much could you put down?" Zack's foot is tapping faster.

"We just can't make any major decisions tonight," I try again.

"So, zero?" Kevin asks Zack as if I'm not talking. At that point, everything gets kinda hazy. I remember Zack shouting, I remember him standing up and pointing his finger in Kevin's face, I remember him yelling "We told you from the beginning we couldn't buy a car tonight and you said you wouldn't pressure us and now you're changing your tune!" I remember everyone in the dealership looking at us, I remember the manager coming over and asking if everything was all right and trying to calm Zack down, and I remember Kevin leaving the table and walking away. But it was about that time that the manager starts haggling with us, asking what he can do to get us in the car tonight, and I have to literally push Zack out the door apologizing as we leave.

Few words were spoken on the way home. Only the ones where I told Zack to forget the Melting Pot. We drove 45 minutes home without saying a word. We didn't stay mad. But date night was officially a bust.

It's Great to be a Florida Gator!

A few weeks ago, Zack and I took the youth group to Night of Joy at Disney World. We got home around 3:30 am. And, since Zack has this insane ability to go days without sleep, and because I have this insane inability to say no to his crazy ideas, we got up the next day and headed to Gainesville with Omar, hoping to score some cheap tickets to the Gator game. The scalpers made us wait until about half way through the first quarter and after the gators had already scored before they would come down to a semi-reasonable price for 3 tickets (not even together!). It was my first time in the Swamp, and it was the most fun I've had in a long time. To say we had to look down on the nosebleed section would be an understatement, but we inched our way down closer to the field as people began to leave what turned out to be a pretty uneventful game. By the last five minutes, we were close enough to hear the cheerleaders and see Urban Meyer without binoculars. The Gators won, of course, though I was too busy taking pictures and texting everyone to tell them we got into the game to pay much attention to the game itself. Zack was seriously like a kid on Christmas morning. It's great to be a Florida Gator!

Running marathon:26 miles........................... Office marathon: 22 episodes

In honor of the new season of the Office beginning this Thursday, Zack, Meghan, Rebekah and I finished off our Office season 3 marathon this weekend--and boy was it a marathon! 16 episodes (some hour-long) in 24 hours. It was super fun and amazing. They came over late Saturday night, and we ate left-over lasagna and watched until about 1 am. Then we got up about 11 the next morning, made a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, chocolate chip pancakes and coffee and continued on our Office journey. We watched until our butts ached and our necks were stiff. We took breaks for showers and dinner, and we paused when we had to use the bathroom, but we persevered. We laughed until our heads hurt. We would rewind when Jim mumbled. We cried when Pam got her heart broken. And we finished season 3! I cannot wait until Thursday!! Wow, my life sounds small and sad. And I don't even care! I'm so excited!

The Mean Time

I haven't blogged about my life at present in a while because there is so much going on that I can't really talk about and also because Zack and I seem to be stuck in limbo right now. Lots of decisions to be made, a lot to think about. And we are thinkers. I don't mean we're smart (that goes w/out saying), but we have to think and discuss and hash over every minute decision we make until we ultimately drive ourselves crazy with it. We don't want to make the wrong decision, we don't want to be out of God's will, we don't want to be impetuous, we're scared. For whatever reason, we always like to take our time, work things through, and wait. And I don't think it's a bad thing necessarily, but lately it's starting to kill me. Lately I'm starting to think that sometimes faith is just stepping out and saying "I don't know, but I'll try." Dr. Mark Rutland preaches a sermon about when God told him to "Go to Ghana." He (God) didn't say how, He didn't say when, He just said Go. Dr. Rutland didn't even know what he would do once he got there--he had no contacts in Ghana. But God told him to go, and he just went, And God provided for Him every step of the way. That sounds so crazy in this day and age of technology--everything can be organized, planned, detailed, confirmed, all with minimal effort and leaving no room for the uncertain and unplanned. And often leaving no room for God to just be in control and for us to just depend on Him. And why should we? We can handle things ourselves.

Zack and I were recently hit hard with the news of a friend's death. He had cancer, but we had been praying and fasting for him for a while. His cancer had gone into remission. Things were looking good for him. The chemotherapy had weakened his body's defenses, and when an infection set into his lungs, he wasn't able to fight it. We are devastated. And as I get ready to attend his viewing this evening and funeral tomorrow, I'm struck by the realization that any thoughts of control over our own lives are not only arrogant but naive. We only control what God allows us to. The rest is in His hands. As a bit of a control freak myself, that's a realization that's both terrifying and freeing. I'm not responsible for Tim's death. I prayed, I fasted, I quoted scripture, I did everything I knew how to do, and in the end, God did what He wanted to do anyway. I've always fought the urge to think But, I could've done more... The truth is that I don't want that kind of responsibility. At some point, God has to see my humanness and do His will in spite of my best efforts.

I want God to do His will in my life. Maybe this blog is more of a prayer than anything else. God, do what You want to do in my life, and don't let me get in the way with my selfish plans. Only, do it quickly, do it now. I'm growing weary of the meantime.