Friday, October 31, 2014
Big Bear Living - In Pictures
After almost two whole months in California, I'm finally getting around to posting some Fall photos that we got the chance to take in Big Bear this season! It has been so breathtakingly beautiful up here in the mountains. Watching the seasons change is remarkable and something I am so grateful to witness.
Friday, October 10, 2014
How I Got Here pt. 3- “It Ends How it Begins”
**Author’s Note: This is the last part of the “How I Got Here” series, and it ends how it begins. If I boiled the answer down to it’s simplest form, it would be “I was called.” How did I get here? I was called. I’m sure the Memento-style blog posting will come to an end, and hopefully we’ll go back to a regular chronology for future posts. If you’re confused, it may be nice to read this in reverse order, starting with this one. Thanks again for reading!**
Sometimes I imagine God like a childhood friend tapping on my window. It’s cracked open just a bit, and I can hear him saying “hey. Hey Alex! You sleepin’?” It’s this soft whisper that’s packed with all sorts of adventure. It’s dark out. I should be sleeping, but how can I?
Vocatio, the Latin word, or kaleō, the Greek. They mean calling. Our lives are wrapped up in our callings. Where do we go, and why? Our calling is the source of so many of our choices, and our choices are the only proof of our convictions. A man who has the conviction to help children understand the joy in the world may have the job of a puppeteer. If you saw this same man working at the IRS offices you’d likely think “hmmm… maybe he didn’t really care about kids that much.” This is what I mean when I say our choices are the only proof of our convictions.
People take tests about vocation. They see counselors, they talk to certified vocation professionals. My wife says that some even take quizzes on “Kickinitteenstyle.com” (Unlike her, I don’t watch The Middle). But I see it differently, or maybe I should say I hear it differently.
“Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices? I hear them calling my name. Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailor, the voice may be one in the same.”
It may not seem like the best way to make big life choices, but when I hear a voice calling me in the night, I go. Like Calvin hearing Hobbes knocking at the window, adventure awaits.
Sometimes I imagine God like a childhood friend tapping on my window. It’s cracked open just a bit, and I can hear him saying “hey. Hey Alex! You sleepin’?” It’s this soft whisper that’s packed with all sorts of adventure. It’s dark out. I should be sleeping, but how can I?
Vocatio, the Latin word, or kaleō, the Greek. They mean calling. Our lives are wrapped up in our callings. Where do we go, and why? Our calling is the source of so many of our choices, and our choices are the only proof of our convictions. A man who has the conviction to help children understand the joy in the world may have the job of a puppeteer. If you saw this same man working at the IRS offices you’d likely think “hmmm… maybe he didn’t really care about kids that much.” This is what I mean when I say our choices are the only proof of our convictions.
People take tests about vocation. They see counselors, they talk to certified vocation professionals. My wife says that some even take quizzes on “Kickinitteenstyle.com” (Unlike her, I don’t watch The Middle). But I see it differently, or maybe I should say I hear it differently.
“Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices? I hear them calling my name. Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailor, the voice may be one in the same.”
It may not seem like the best way to make big life choices, but when I hear a voice calling me in the night, I go. Like Calvin hearing Hobbes knocking at the window, adventure awaits.
Monday, October 6, 2014
How I Got Here pt. 2 or "Goodness, gracious! How did you lose your job?”
I have to admit, this is hard for me to write. I put it off for a number of weeks in the hope that getting some distance from the issue may help me put words to all of it. I struggled with feeling that I should simply let sleeping dogs lie, and that if the dust had settled on this issue, what was the point in stirring it up again?
But the dust never truly settled. I still find the occasional speck falling in my eye, causing irritation and affecting my vision. Often, in order to clean a room of all that has built up overtime, our task is to kick up the dust once more, and hope it falls elsewhere… like in the trashcan, or under the rug.
But the dust never truly settled. I still find the occasional speck falling in my eye, causing irritation and affecting my vision. Often, in order to clean a room of all that has built up overtime, our task is to kick up the dust once more, and hope it falls elsewhere… like in the trashcan, or under the rug.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
The Questions of Saints
How many saints, whose words were filled with God's gospel of grace and love, were forever silenced by this hate filled world? If we believe the scriptures’ promise of persecution, and its life changing message of forgiveness, how often were truly meek and kind people cast out by a society that is aroused by strength, and who lusts for control?
Did those saints die in quiet questioning, asking themselves if they could possibly hold any worth in a world that derives value from how many people sit under you, how many you've used or can use?
How many saints had memories and dreams destroyed because they chose to serve their oppressors rather than fight them, and yet whose words of love and encouragement were heard as insult to ears who longed for sin?
How many friendships were severed, traditions broken, and histories forked by people who loved imperfectly meeting people who had perfected their sin?
How many times has the spirit of Christ been crucified?
And how many saints bear one thorn in their side and eventually are brought under by it? How many hear so frequently that they are worthless outside of their utility and find themselves believing it, even if for just a few moments?
Is this life not an eternal torment for those who pursue righteousness? Is the pursuit of righteousness not akin to Sisyphus? If the goal is only achievable to those greater than man, does not the weight of our sin come rolling back over us once we believe we've gotten near the conclusion?
Is this not torment?
Did those saints die in quiet questioning, asking themselves if they could possibly hold any worth in a world that derives value from how many people sit under you, how many you've used or can use?
How many saints had memories and dreams destroyed because they chose to serve their oppressors rather than fight them, and yet whose words of love and encouragement were heard as insult to ears who longed for sin?
How many friendships were severed, traditions broken, and histories forked by people who loved imperfectly meeting people who had perfected their sin?
How many times has the spirit of Christ been crucified?
And how many saints bear one thorn in their side and eventually are brought under by it? How many hear so frequently that they are worthless outside of their utility and find themselves believing it, even if for just a few moments?
Is this life not an eternal torment for those who pursue righteousness? Is the pursuit of righteousness not akin to Sisyphus? If the goal is only achievable to those greater than man, does not the weight of our sin come rolling back over us once we believe we've gotten near the conclusion?
Is this not torment?
Monday, September 29, 2014
How I Got Here pt. 1, or With the Faith of a Mustard Seed you can Move to the Mountains
Maybe it’s just a mistranslation, like a jot or tittle got erased somewhere along the way and we’ve been thinking of this whole thing wrong for years.
Maybe it’s “with the faith of a mustard seed, you can move to the mountains.”
That makes a lot of sense for me at least.
See, I want to tell you the story. I want to tell you about how I ended up in a completely different place, looking at unfamiliar ceilings, and fighting with God a lot. But as I try to find the beginning of the story, it seems like it is always eluding me. The puzzle still seems incomplete no matter how many pieces I add. So, I’m going to start at the end, and like the years of BC we’ll just keep counting up while going backwards until maybe we find where this whole thing started.
Let’s start with how I got to the mountains.
Maybe it’s “with the faith of a mustard seed, you can move to the mountains.”
That makes a lot of sense for me at least.
See, I want to tell you the story. I want to tell you about how I ended up in a completely different place, looking at unfamiliar ceilings, and fighting with God a lot. But as I try to find the beginning of the story, it seems like it is always eluding me. The puzzle still seems incomplete no matter how many pieces I add. So, I’m going to start at the end, and like the years of BC we’ll just keep counting up while going backwards until maybe we find where this whole thing started.
Let’s start with how I got to the mountains.
Monday, September 22, 2014
This Sucks.
This sucks.
There was this student at the church I worked at who was passionate about service. We had just finished a conference where we focused on the power of God’s grace and how it should encourage us to serve all people, no matter what their background or current situation was. The last day of the conference was on Sunday, so we had some students share stories in the main service about what happened. He stood up in front of the whole church and said something that would completely rock my world.
“Without grace, we would be screwed.”
That’s true, isn’t it?
Is there anyway to live this life without grace? Without forgiveness? And if there is a way to live without those things, is that a life worth living?
The need for grace, and the recognition of that need are the basis of the Christian faith. Grace should change the world, and knowing that we need it, that without it we would be screwed… well that’s something that should turn your whole life upside down.
So I wasn’t surprised to hear that people were upset about what he said. I was just surprised at what specifically upset them.
“screwed.”
It’s lewd language. It’s crass. It’s immature. It’s sexual, and aggressive, and it’s just wrong. So we don’t say it in church, and if we do we need to learn better, and grow out of our childishness and become true Christians.
There was this student at the church I worked at who was passionate about service. We had just finished a conference where we focused on the power of God’s grace and how it should encourage us to serve all people, no matter what their background or current situation was. The last day of the conference was on Sunday, so we had some students share stories in the main service about what happened. He stood up in front of the whole church and said something that would completely rock my world.
“Without grace, we would be screwed.”
That’s true, isn’t it?
Is there anyway to live this life without grace? Without forgiveness? And if there is a way to live without those things, is that a life worth living?
The need for grace, and the recognition of that need are the basis of the Christian faith. Grace should change the world, and knowing that we need it, that without it we would be screwed… well that’s something that should turn your whole life upside down.
So I wasn’t surprised to hear that people were upset about what he said. I was just surprised at what specifically upset them.
“screwed.”
It’s lewd language. It’s crass. It’s immature. It’s sexual, and aggressive, and it’s just wrong. So we don’t say it in church, and if we do we need to learn better, and grow out of our childishness and become true Christians.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Christmas Decorating at the Lumberjackson Lodge!
This is the first Christmas for Alex and I as a family, and being in our first home, it is even more special. I wanted to share some pictures of what we did to decorate. I also wanted to capture the house in this festive state because it's so. darn. clean. Alex and I spent our Friday night cleaning the whole house until 1am. Now the countdown is on to see how long the house can stay clean!
Without further ado.. A Lumberjackson Lodge Christmas!
You've gotta have a little village at Christmas. You just do.
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