On Earth

You know when Jesus closes his prayer and says, "Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven."? Well, I've been thinking a lot about that lately. This past week in Sunday school, we kept talking about the point of Christianity being Grace, being saved from eternal punishment, a loving God giving us eternal life if we choose it in the way we're told He (She) wants it. Now, I love that Sunday school, but I'm not so sure about the theology anymore. What I've been taught all these years growing up in the church misses the point. It's got to.

I'm reinventing my eschatology, because I'm just not convinced that Heaven's so exclusive and Hell's so default. But good grief! is that too much to talk about in one blog post, and it's not what I want to focus on anyway. I don't think Jesus wanted us to focus on it so much, not in the ways we're doing it now at least.

Okay, here's my theory. Think about what pisses you off, disturbs, or saddens you most about life here on earth (I'm thinking about kids being abandoned, orphaned, left feeling unloved and unwanted). Now imagine the best Heaven you can possible conjure up (I'm thinking about everyone feeling totally loved and wanted, everyone belonging and communing continually). Whatever you just imagined--for that will look very different from person to person--is your responsibility. Jesus said so himself. "On Earth as it is in Heaven." Jesus seems more concerned about widening the gaps to let Heaven crash into Earth here and now than He is about us one day being in Heaven later.

Maybe that little exercise in imagination doesn't work for everyone, but it definitely works for me. We've got to start laboring and toiling and never stop striving to bring to Earth that vision of Heaven each of us has. It may seem futile work (it very well may be), but it seems the only thing worth our blood.

Like Glass

Clay is easier than glass. I'm clay. You only see what I want you to see, and I can display myself anyway I desire. I take care of myself. No one gets in to screw around. None of my sewage spills out. Glass is too weak. I can't fog it enough; you see right through. See the smears and smudges on this man, the inconsistencies and imperfections. The flaws in this plan I'm trying so hard to live into. Glass can break and crumple and it's too trusting in its exposure.

But glass is the only way we can change this jacked-up world. Glass is the way of Christ, the way of descension. It's a denial to self-protection and an acceptance of something greater than me. It's time to be more exposed, more transparent about our hurts, our failures, our shame, our brokenness.

I would blog more, but I need to get off my bum and share my story.

Peace.

about the search (rambling)

I think it's safe to say that everything we do in life is about the search. We all have those days where we feel like there's more, like we're destined for more, like we're only seeing such a small, insignificant part of the whole. It's an aching we have for something more, something beyond just ourselves. I've been trying to assuage the burning with ministry. It's painfully clear that the passion God's given me is to love and mentor youth. I can honestly say that in the past year and a half, the only relationships I've actively and consistently invested in are those: relationships with youth. Ministry revives me, ignites me. Loving on youth hurts a lot of the time, but it's the only thing worth it. It's what gives my life purpose, my toils meaning. But it's so damn lonely.

I realized the problem with only living for ministry, with my only investments being in youth, is that it's often a one-way street. Yes, nothing pours into me like when one of my students offers a simple "thanks" or a youth tells me "I'm praying for you," but it's still one-sided because they can never pour back into me to the extent that I need it. A sage pointed out this phenomenon to me, and in retrospect it seems so obvious. I have such a fire to let youth know they belong to someone, to something, that they're loved and valued, but there's no one doing that for me.

This is quickly turning into a self-pity post, so I'll shift the perspective slightly. Freshman and Sophomore year of college, I had a small group--a group of about 8ish guys that became family to me. We were a brotherhood, and for the first time, I lived within the context of a community of accountability and love and support. When that group disbanded, to bandage my hurt, I quit investing in college friendships, and instead I invested in youth, striving to be the mentor I've always longed for and felt I needed. And now, so often, I find myself feeling lonely.

It's not always. It's usually just when I sit down. Most of the day, I'm running from one thing to another, working on one thing so I can move on to the next. It's when I sit, when the busyness stops, that I realize how alone I am, how alone I've made myself. Yes. I'm being dramatic. But seriously, you have met me, right? The point is, I feel like I don't have anyone or any group to belong to, not like I used to have, and that's tough. Some days I feel like I'm trying to clean another's wounds, all the while I can't stop bleeding. I'm meant to be communal, to need other people, and it's time I stop keeping people out. I try to always parage around and carry a spirit of joy, but that's such a surface-level Keith. I know if I'm going to make it, then I have to start letting more people in.

Finding Love in Bubble Wrap

Sailing to a new country across the seas,
  She's a girl simply trying to appease
   An aching for meaning to life and for Love
  But not anymore from some man above,
   But from one man down here.
Where's this Yahweh now?
  It's time she try another way now.
Too far removed from old family and friends,
  But this man's love compasses to a more solid end.
Feeling reborn in this new time and place,
  There's only acceptance reflecting in his face.
What she sees ahead with him
   Looks better than what she left behind her.
Yet every odd day, it's the
  Ordinary that stands out to remind her
   Of all her yesterdays.
Today it's bubble wrap,
  And with every pop and snap
  She releases a tear for every year
   She remembers when life was different.

*inspired by a real conversation*

"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