"Surrender is the only thing that is our own." ---Mother Teresa

God, why can't I do this?

Why's it so hard to just get it right?

I keep thinking I'm ready so I jump in mid-flight,

and all I seem to do is fall

when faced with the sight

of myself.

God, why can't I do this?

Why's it so hard to surrender?

I try something else and all I engender

is more of the cold, hard pain I feel.

Another man a pretender, and defender

of what? Of Polo and Cee Lo?

Crack Cocaine and Lil Wayne?

More fly sedans and retirement plans?

Lifestyles of haste, our style of life is just waste,

and in the fiscal year of 2010

our budget of Defense was surpassing 285 billion?

What are we defending?

What is it here that's so precious that makes us think

our money is best spent on protecting it?

But me, nah, I got this down pat.

I know Your plan so I spit out the facts

of what it means to do this and that.

As far as being a Christian goes,

I know how to act

and play the game,

but I have no clue about the stakes of this poker match.

It seems like every day I'm gambling and I'm donning a new hat

to try to look the way I feel I should for You.

And I get it. I get it.

I get my life on track,

and I can see a higher path

of love and what a life of devotion

looks like. As a matter of fact, 

I start feeling your presence thick around

and chasing the sound of your music.

Life starts making sense,

with my time spent in your midst

in the presence of the poor and lonely,

those you bring to my attention.

But why is it that my prayers of praise soon turn to contention,

and all of my efforts and time and energy

result in only another invention of just more dissension,

and with three steps forward I turn back

in the wrong direction?

God, why can't I do this?

Why can't I get this right?

Somebody is always trying to fight
for my time,

and since I feel like I have to do it all,

I make nothing the priority

and always give in to what the majority

says I should be doing.

It's not until later that I remember the Authority,

or what should be in my life.

I'm too afraid of what being the minority

means--lonely, unhappy, desperate, lacking?

The fear's too strong and the lows hurt too long

for me to sit back and just wait.

Isn't that what you say trusting is?

Just.
waiting.

God, why can't I do this?

When will my good be good enough,

and my desires end for all this stuff

I keep carrying around in my wallet and closet
and wearing on my face? I know it's time to deposit
all this in You.

But, this conceit lives the life of the leech sucking deep.

My pride works against me, and my mind just conspires

and plays games of vampires--draining my soul.

Everything we ever worked for,

sucked...out...slowly...

God, I feel so lowly

when faced with myself.

Why can't I do this?
Worry's hills are the only ones my eyes look towards.

Not knowing the future
and never to be sure, it's so hard
when my trust is so immature.
It's time I conjure up something new.
My mind and my thoughts in the end point to You,
my soul and my spirit lined with Yours finally true;
my will and my desire,
my possessions and dreams all turn to fire,
all bow down when my self is faced with You.
God, my air, my time, my blood, my life: it all belongs to You.
The only thing you seek
is the one thing that keeps me free
of You and inadvertently the one thing
keeping me back from being me--the me created to dwell in You.
So why's it so hard to give up that one thing,
that one thing you ask of me?
Surrender

Silly boy, Jesus doesn't mean it...

Ah shit. I almost forgot. When Jesus says, "You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me," (Luke 18: 22), what he means is you must be willing to give up everything. He means that you must figuratively give up everything, meaning it's okay to have stuff, just make sure you tithe and go to church and God's first in your life. It's so easy. I can't believe I almost forgot.

************************************

I've mentioned before that I go with Don Horacio occassionally and help out with the homeless ministry. Well, I went again, and it was powerful! I made such a lasting difference in this world for Jesus! I handed out cups of coffee and water and sandwiches! I sang my heart out and clapped so everyone could hear these worship songs to Jesus! I hugged those stinky alcoholics and drug addicts and told them that Jesus loves them! Oh, and guess what happened...a homeless man came up to me and asked me to pray for him! He told me that it was his first time ever coming to this park and seeing what we do here! He said it's the first time he's seen Christians do something like this! He asked if I would tell him why I'm here helping them when I could be in the states! He questioned who is this Jesus guy! He explained all about his addictions and his problems with his family and how he's been on the streets since he was a kid and how he has this woman that he's in love with but she's crazy and so addicted that she'll run off with anyone for just a quick fix and how gosh this sandwich is amazing and this coffee tastes so good! And he asked if I could pray for him and the woman he's in love with, that God will prove He can not just handle all this but make it better! And we hugged and prayed and hugged again, and it was awesome, because I'm being obedient to God and loving people!!!

A different man came up to me. I counted 3 toes through his shoes and 4 teeth behind his beard. Pleading with me through the damaged, glazed eyes of alcoholism, he asked me for my shoes. "I sleep on cardboard, mae. I only have this one pair of shoes, and you can see they don't serve shit. It's the rainy season, so they're constantly getting wet and giving me blisters. You come here because you're a Christian, right? See I knew God would send me a new pair of shoes."

Uhhhhhhhh....yeeeaaaaah....

Don Horacio, his wife, and a couple other missionaries were right there with me. They redirected the man back to the coffee line. I thought about it for a couple minutes, and decided. The way of Jesus isn't supposed to be easy. We're called to come and die, not live comfortably. Giving a pair of shoes is the least I can do. I slipped off the shoes and started walking barefoot over to the man. Immediately, 3 missionaries surrounded me, deterring me from my mission. "You can't give him those shoes. We understand you feel bad and want to help. You just don't understand. That man is clearly an alcoholic and a drug addict. He'd probably just keep his old shoes and sell your nice ones for a couple dollars so he could have some drug money. Trust us. We're out here all the time." So I slipped my $120 Nike shox back on my feet and walked away.

Because I almost forgot that when Jesus said, "If someone takes your tunic, give him your cloak as well" (Matthew 5: 40), what he really meant was, "...but check their motives first!" and when Jesus said, "Sell everything and give it to the poor," he meant just don't get attached to your possessions, but you can keep them. For a minute there, I forgot that Jesus says radical things and talks a big game, but he doesn't mean what he says in a literal sense. I almost forgot the most important thing about Jesus: that he's just like our generation.

Our generation. We go to school for 12 years, and then to college, and often to graduate school. We learn about Algebra, Geometry, Biology, Chemistry, Literature, Composition, History, Geography, Foreign Languages, Psychology, Philosophy. Our generation has more knowledge than any previous generation. We've become an age that values knowledge and reflection so much, that now all we do is talk, as if that's going to solve the world's problems. And so we talk. And reflect. And talk. And reflect... In the end, we do nothing, and nothing is changed. We've even reduced the great teachings to the same abstractions. But, every once in a while, someone of our generation will stand up and move. They'll act on the vision God's given them and try to do something. However,  it takes no time at all before a well-meaning parent or a friend or other Christians (especially other Christians), calm us down. Sober us. Deaden our passion. See, our generation is one of immediate enthusiasm, an enthusiasm that quickly dies, an enthusiasm that our thought and our logic and our reflection kills before it can grow into authentic passion.

And I yell out to God: "God, I'm done with this life! I want to be radical for you so badly! You're asking, 'Whom shall I send?' Send me! I'll go! We can change this world! I'll do anything to open the cracks in this world for Love to crash in!"

"Our own age is essentially one of understanding, and on the average, perhaps, more knowledgeable than any former generation, but it is without passion. Everyone knows a great deal, we all know which way we ought to go and all the different ways we can go, but nobody is willing to move." (Soren Kierkegaard, The Present Age)

And all too quickly, God answers me back: "You want to be radical? No, Keith. You don't mean that."

A Wasteful God

God, I am so pissed off at You right now!

I just got a facebook message from one of my Camp Joy kids. I've spent only 5 days a year with him for 4 summers, and it's been over a year since I've last seen him. Yet, out of the blue, he sends me this message saying how I'm like a brother to him. That he remembers when we prayed together, just us two. That when his guardians yell at him, he remembers all the love he felt at camp. That no one's ever led him to You God like I have.... What the hell is that, God!?!?!

He says those things about me? It's been over a year, and I was only with him for 5 days a year before that. Where are the parents he deserves? Where's the environment and the neighborhood he deserves? Where's the school and the opportunities he deserves? Where's the security and the family and the constant love he deserves? Where's your church, God? Answer me! I'm so angry at you God! You mean you've put no one else in his life to love him and lead him to You, except the crazy white college kids he sees 5 days a year, college kids he's too old to see at Camp now? I don't understand God, but I will love these kids until it kills me, even if their maker won't.

I don't trust you, God. I trust you with Keith. You've done nothing but lavish blessings on me--education, family, opportunities, love. What I don't trust you with are all these kids I see all around me. Kids labeled high risk because they aren't first in anyone's lives. Because You aren't loving them like you're loving me. I see you bring Heaven to me, beneath my feet, here in this world everyday; but I don't trust you to bring about Heaven here for all these kids. Heaven here. Heaven now. I don't trust that one day You'll make all this okay, but that won't stop me from giving and working and hurting and dying and trying until every youth I meet knows and feels they're loved, and then lives in that love so completely that their lives become dedicated to the same suicidal purpose of persisting in love.

I don't trust you. I'm having too hard a time seeing past what I see right now. I see too many without any love, without any homes, without any hope. Too many with only the negative as influences. Too many that know despair and abandon more than joy and affection. Too many surrounded by only hatred and selfishness. Too many orphaned. Too many never hearing the words,

"I love you. I believe in you."

No God. I don't trust you. Not with that. They're too valuable, too priceless for flippant and reckless trust.

I don't trust you, God.

But I want to.

I read in one of Your scriptures today, Luke 9, that popular Sunday School story about Jesus feeding the 5,000 with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. I don't believe you, I don't trust you for miracles like that anymore. But I want to. I want to believe in a God that preaches healing and hope to hurting people, and a God that when others say it's time to send the people home so they can eat, says, "No. We feed them," and a God that then takes a meager meal and turns it into a feast, physically feeding and showing people what Heaven here looks like. A God that is verb-loving the people here, now. I wan't to believe in that kind of God. And how wasteful you were! There were 12 basketfuls of food left over!

God. Take the 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish that I am, and feed 5,000. Prove to me that I'm not wrong in wanting to trust You. Prove to me that you're still a wasteful God. Be wasteful in your use of my life. Show me what Grace and Provision and Love in waste look like.

Salat-l-Istikhara

"Oh Allah! I seek Your guidance by virtue of Your knowledge, and I seek ability by virtue of Your power, and I ask You of Your great bounty. You have power; I have none. And You know; I know not. You are the Knower of hidden things.

"Oh Allah! If in Your knowledge, this matter is good for my religion, my livelihood and my affairs, immediate and in the future, then ordain it for me, make it easy for me, and bless it for me. And if in Your knowledge, this matter is bad for my religion, my livelihood and my affairs, immediate and in the future, then turn it away from me, and turn me away from it. And ordain for me the good wherever it may be, and make me content with it."

where the heart will forever be...

Never thought I'd hurt this much being away from you. Guess I never realized that you have my heart. Now I can see it: you're my home, my sanctuary, my refuge. We fell in love so quickly, but we'll never fall out. You've held me through my lowest lows, danced with me in my highest highs. You've exposed all of life's wounds to me--in their misery, in their filth, in their shame. And when everything looks like it's drowning, you've thrown out just enough hope to keep me afloat, to keep me fighting. You've shown me the Kingdom, taught me what life was all about, walked me into my purpose. You've given me burdens, fulfillment, heartaches, joy. You've led me into relationships with the most beautiful souls that exist. Because of you, I'm better, stronger, more the man God created me to be. Because of you, I've never weeped harder, never laughed harder, never lived harder.

It hurts that, separated from you, all I can do is pray. But I trust that that's all that's needed from me right now, so I'll pray as hard as I know how. Camp Joy...my heart will always be with you...

A Birthday Prayer

Ephesians 3:20-21

"Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all we can ask or think, according to the power that works in us, unto God be all glory in the church and in Christ Jesus unto all generations for ever and ever"

Every once in a while, I'll write something down on paper because I feel like it's too intense or too emotional or too personal for the blog. Today, I was reading back through some of those writings, and I found a prayer that I had written while in a lot of anguish. I know, "anguish" is quite a dramatic word, but that's the place where I was. Long story short, God's answering my prayer in BIG ways. It is kind of intense so I'll only post an excerpt and edit some of it, but I wanted to post what I had written because God has answered this prayer far beyond what I even imagined, and so I pray it be a testimony to where God takes us when we cry out to Him/Her.

*Footnote to All Prayers*

He whom I bow to only knows to whom I bow
When I attempt the ineffable Name, murmuring Thou,
And dream of Pheidian fancies and embrace in heart
Symbols (I know) which cannot be the thing Thou art.
Thus always, taken at their word, all prayers blaspheme
Worshipping with frail images a folk-lore dream,
And all men in their praying, self-deceived, address
The coinage of their own unquiet thoughts, unless
Thou in magnetic mercy to Thyself divert
Our arrows, aimed unskilfully, beyond desert;
And all men are idolators, crying unheard
To a deaf idol, if Thou take them at their word.

Take not, O Lord, our literal sense. Lord, in thy great
Unbroken speech our limping metaphor translate.


--Clive Staples Lewis