4.26.2013

The Dangers of Prosperity (how not to forget)

When I went to college the thought that prosperity was a pitfall began gnawing at my mind, digging deep into my heart.  This ideal was supported emphatically by the health and wealth falsities I saw spewed on the TV, as well as a deeply personal wound from what I perceived to be the worship of comfort and ease.  I believe I also mistook Scriptures call to care for the poor to mean that the financially hurting were especially loved by God.  Sadly, my twisted legalism saw poverty as another avenue to gain Abba's love and affection for me. This led to a lifestyle which sought out ways to deny myself the promises of prosperity, at least so far as I knew them.  Don't get me wrong, I still think there's a place for this financially dry time in my life.  Over the last decade my wife and I have walked through many seasons of having no idea how our basic bills would be met, where we would find work, or how we would take care of our kids in the simplest of ways.  During this time we have come to know and enjoy God as provider and sustainer, the great giver to those who ask.  We've learned how to be in need, how to ask, and how to wait patiently.  We've learned of his faithfulness, kindness, and strength.
'When I fed them, they were satisfied, when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me.' Hosea 13:6
We're beginning to walk into this new season of life, which seems to entail consistent provision to some degree, what some may even call prosperity.  My heart quakes.  My mind constantly tells me, 'if you just have/gain _______, then ______'.  The threat of forgetting God seems now ever present.  Like a weened child I begin to think I can provide for myself, no longer do I need sustenance directly from Abba.  I begin to forget.  I have been able to grow in trust and faith of God while I was in need, but will I remember him in plenty?  This thought nags at me.  In an effort to come up with a better option than 'just find ways to suffer and stay poor', I began putting together this incomplete list to help me remain in the fight of growing in trust and ever present knowledge of my need for abiding in Abba.

Remember.  God names man 'zakar', which translates as 'the remembering one'.  It's no accident that Israel is consistently told to stop, build an altar so that they can remember where God brought them from, so that they might trust where He is taking them. 

Practically, we can remember/not forget in several ways:
  1. Write.  Write out your story.  Don't merely report it, but investigate it, dig in to the deep details, dark places of fear and hurt, and moments of clarity. This past weekend before going on a retreat I spent time reading an old journal and remembering where God had me two years ago.  I could not have had such deep awareness of Him in my life now, had I not written it down then.
  2. Speak.  Spend time with fellow travelers putting your story to voice.  One of the greatest moments of connection with my wife was when we went away on a retreat and spent the first night sitting by a fire, remembering our past and connecting to it as we talked.  This brought not only joy and sorrow, but great awakening to our spirits.  We walked away with a deep knowledge of God's constant awareness of and provision for us.
  3. Read.  Read Scripture as the great narrative of Abba setting the captives free from enslavement and death.  Start with Isaiah 61, Christ's 'mission statement' that he read with authority in the synagogue (Luke 4).  As you read, remember that this is not just the story of a small lost and foolish tribe in north Africa and the middle East, but this is the great redemptive near-tragedy of humanity.
  4. Listen.  Listen to others tell their stories.  Nothing seems to bring greater clarity to my own journey than hearing others wrestle through theirs.  Seeing how God shows up in a hurting friends life opens my eyes to see Him intruding in my own. 
  5. Memento.  Find some physical memorial that as you see, hold, touch and smell you will be reminded of a particular time in which God provided.  In my office I have several pieces of rock, wood, metal and cloth that instantly trigger memories of truth and moments of clarity.

    "When the Lord your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to give you—a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant—then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery." Deut. 6:10-12
Don't forget how you were rescued and set free.  Keep it constantly present in the midst of prosperity, remembering that the manna only comes by the hand of God.  The deep desire for rest and peace is meant to prick your heart into deeper need and abiding in God, rather than satisfaction in those things which pass and fail you.

4.23.2013

Arise My Son

This poem I wrote on the deck of Ebeneezer place throughout a Saturday of listening to men's tell their stories of great trial and heartbreak, redemption and healing.  These are the words I heard from my Abba as I meditated on Song of Solomon, chapter 2.

Arise My Son

Arise my son, my beautiful boy,
In your presence do I long enjoy.
For the day breaks and the morn is new,
my love sets now like morning dew.

Arise my son, my loveliest one,
your voice to my ears is next to none.
Lets run through the woods and to the ponds,
Sit long together til heart responds.

Arise my son, my courageous man,
from your quiet strength you need not ran.
I made you strong and your heart is brave,
So stand and fight, no longer a slave.

Arise my son, my wounded babe,
your heart long hidden, let light today.
Long trodden and worn, abused and torn,
your griefs long denied, time now to mourn.

Arise my son, my beloved son,
In you I delight and now adorn.
Come away with me, give me your trust.
I will lead you right, we're in no rush.

Arise my love.

4.13.2013

Brennan Manning, 4.34 - 4.13

I awoke this morning to find that Brennan Manning had died yesterday.  It's hard to put into words the tears and grief this pierces me with.  I want to share his impact on me over the years, how his words about a loving Abba have shaped me.  It's really wild how a man whom I've never met, whose voice I have barely heard, has been such a big brother to me, leading me along this ragamuffin road towards home.

Here are just a few ways he has led me, unedited, as well as a poem I began yesterday before I learned of his death, and which I finished upon hearing about his passing.
  • As Brennan taught me of Abba he taught me how to love and be loved, how to father my children with a fierce longing for their hearts to be cherished.
  • As he taught me of God as a foolish lover, he taught me how to pursue my wife through the thickest of storms, when it only makes sense to give up, but instead of doing what makes sense to throw caution to the wind and love with a furious kind of love.
  • As he taught me of Jesus as my big brother, I learned how to trust through the darkest of fears, through depression, through an anxious heart and broken mind, because my big brother's got my back and will stick up for me regardless of what the enemy throws.  
  • As he taught me of myself as a Ragamuffin, he taught me of my need which is deeper than anything I can fill, which led to me learning how to receive.  
  • As he taught me of Jesus as healer, he showed me a way of life that loved the impoverished, whether they be the beggar without a dime, the alcoholic in denial, or the CEO who can't shake feeling inadequate.
  • As he taught me that I'm loved as I am, not as I should be, my legalistic heart was set free and by living out of that I am able to know myself first and primarily as Abba's beloved son.
My life and heart were forever, eternally changed when I read 'The Ragamuffin Gospel' my sophomore year of college.  I was ready to quit, tired of the facade of christianity.  Yet, as a spiritual father and guide does, he gently and firmly called out my bullshit, and enticed me onward towards being received by the Great Lover.  At this point in my life I really cannot think of a single area which has not been touched by his pen.  My heart is so grieved at the loss of my hero.  After a decade of hearing Brennan's voice, I can gladly say with him 'I belong to Abba'.

Azaleas 

Dark pink buds so softly forming,
catching light upon their brow.
Grouped together no longer lonely,
blanketed red appearing now.

Out from stems so thin and brittle,
life from leaves of vibrant green.
Blossoms come for time then whither,
a losing battle it would seem.

For a time they grace with beauty,
short lived life and purpose ends.
Strong with form and hues so softly,
til a wind strikes - they've no defence.

Petals fall as floating feathers,
forming beds so dark and lone.
All they leave are stems dark redder,
now to earth they find new home.

Why this life so short and final -
is just to spread pollen abroad?
But God the artist painting brightly,
enticing creatures to be awed.

Out of kindness does He grace us,
with such beauties small and bright.
That our eyes would in remembrance,
view lovers heart with this new sight.

Brennan, beauty, he softly beckoned,
'Arise my love, my beautiful one.
Come away from darkness, desperate
Come to me, sing beautiful song.'

Abba's child once and forever,
taught me of my Lovers aim.
He spoke so softly of my Abba,
turned my heart towards this rich gain.

My heart indebted, filled and grateful,
as my big brother He calls home.
For Brennan's beauty am I thankful,
To grieving heart I beg You come.