Tomatoes

Yesterday, overcome by stink bugs, Kim pulled up all the tomato plants.  One by one, I burned them.  We've had a lot and given a lot of tomatoes this season.

Kim had reached the point where she was avoiding the garden.  She is happy again.  That makes me happy.

I went and bought cedar fence pickets today.  I plan on laying them in the ceiling of "the man cave".  I plan on getting a t.v. too.  I am looking forward to The Texans.  Can't wait to cook ribs and hear the sounds of football - and feel the brisk air of that first cool front - which makes me think about a wood stove.  Ahhhhh.... football....

PS: This post ties to blueberries

Superman

Last night, Kaley and I went to the opening-day show of "Superman" with Jon and Durbin.  WOW! - I got to sleep after 3:00a.m.  I will survive!

I liked the show okay.  I am not a fan of bowel crunching explosions although any kidney stones or gall stones which I may have had have been pummeled into small passable manageable fragments.  Thank you, XD!

My mind was not adrift the entire movie, but for the record, I found myself daydreaming about the odd collection of junk parts I have recently obtained.  I saw the flywheel on the front of the pit.  The radiator on the other side.  I woke up thinking about the flywheel being attached to an axle for spinning roasting chickens.  That seemed silly in the face of this movie with all the creative computerized contraptions.

I also thought about Nietzsche's "superman".  I tried to recall what that "superman" was.  I read some here this morning.  There are aspects of this philosophy that I believe in.  In one conversation with Jon, I told him that I wonder if it were the power of Constantine which made a locomotive out of Christianity - that we are simply on the train.  I hope not.

I read some quotes of Nietzsche.  Here's a few:

Fear is the mother of morality.

A good writer possesses not only his own spirit but also the spirit of his friends.

The Christian resolution to find the world ugly and bad has made the world ugly and bad.

In music the passions enjoy themselves.

After coming into contact with a religious man I always feel I must wash my hands.

There are no facts, only interpretations.

He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.

Without music, life would be a mistake.

And the last quote for me today... as I try to work on fumes!

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

Handicap (Ordinary Time - Day 12)

The surest way to strength is to stop arm wrestling God.
2 Corinthians 12:1-10

As I read today, I can't help but think that Paul is an arrogant asshole. He blames the audience for "causing" him to brag. He says that even if he were to brag - which he already did in the previous chapter - he wouldn't sound ridiculous and what he was saying would still be true. He sounds so human it's not even funny. In the midst of his ranting and denial of his own pride, he says some things that cut me to the heart. 

Paul says that he's been given a handicap for two reasons: to keep him from having a big head and to keep him in touch with his limitations. He says he prayed three times for God to remove this handicap, and felt like God was telling him: "My grace is enough for you. My grace is all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness." 

A light bulb seemed to go off in Paul's head when this happened, and he began to focus on his handicap as a gift and not a limitation. He was able to believe that God's strength would increase the more his own strength decreased. In his weakness, he was strong.

These last few days I've been carrying around a whirlwind of fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of change. I've been driven by it. It affected me to the point yesterday that prayer just wasn't working. I left work early because it was driving me mad. I did everything I could to not go home and isolate myself into self-pity and depression. 

The reason I have all this fear is I have a decision to make, and it's a big decision. I don't know what to do, and I feel stuck. I'm weighing the pros and cons of this decision, and I'm just not getting the insight that I normally get in times like these. I have to stay pretty vague because there are people reading this blog that I don't feel comfortable sharing the details with quite yet. 

Regardless, I have a definite handicap right now. It's fear. It's getting to the point where if I don't do something about it, it's going to kick my ass. I called my sponsor yesterday to explain what was going on, and I've talked to several trusted friends about it. My sponsor gave me an assignment that I will be doing today after work. In the meantime, I want to explore what Paul is talking about in this passage. His handicap used to be a liability, and now it's a gift. Just how exactly did he arrive at this viewpoint?

I don't have the answer for this, but I do have an opinion. In order to delve into this, I need to delve into my own current handicap. When I view my fear as a handicap, I get paralyzed. It paints my world black. It paints my future as bleak. That's where I am right now. My heart is beating faster, my mind is turning into a wasteland. I want my fear to be plucked from me via prayer, and it's just not working. I'm reminded of a line in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that says, "When all else fails, work with another alcoholic ensures immunity from drinking." 

I'm in one of those places where my lifeline of prayer is not working the way I want it to. So, I'm taking it to the next level - working with my sponsor. In order to change my fear from a handicap into a gift, I have to ask for help and take action. Even as I sit here right now, my mind is spinning about the unknown. My sanity levels are quickly diminishing, and I sense that my time at work today is going to be as hard as it was yesterday. 

I have a decision to make, and fear is blocking me from making it. So, the important thing right now is to do the hard work of acknowledging the fear, defining it, and sharing it with my sponsor. Perhaps then I will see it as a gift and not a handicap. Until I realize that prayer is not the solution but only an aid, it's not going to leave. 

I want to believe that in my weakness, I am strong, but all I see right now is weakness. The reason for this is, when I'm living in fear I'm still trying to control my life and hold a tight grip on it. I'm afraid of letting go. I'm afraid of letting my life play out on God's terms and not mine. I'm still flexing my muscles in trying to predict my future and script it out perfectly. 

It's impossible to show off my muscles when I'm at a point of surrender. Surrender means that I've given up, that I have no amount of willpower that will change my current circumstances. I haven't surrendered yet.

When I surrender, as Paul says, God's strength comes into its own in my weakness. I need to get to the end of me. Then, maybe I'll see this fear as a point of growth, a catalyst for change, and not a paralyzing handicap.

Today's Action: Weather the storm with prayer, but as soon as I get off work, get to writing like I've been told! Be extremely honest with myself, and don't leave anything out, no matter how silly it may sound.

The Good Life (Ordinary Time - Day 11)

2 Corinthians 11:21-33

One of my best friends sent me a text yesterday that said this: "I broke the tooth I just had worked on in half and had to pull half of it at work with needle nose pliers. The dentist wants me to come in and I can't afford to miss work or to have the work done. I already missed two days last week because I was sick. This just keeps getting worse and worse. When is this shit going to get any better?"

As I read today's passage, it made me think of him. It also made me think of how sometimes we take a look around, take a look at ourselves, and think, "When is this shit going to get any better?"

Paul takes a look around at all the churches he's helped start, and he feels like he's losing his influence. It seems like nobody's listening. The people would rather listen to the egomaniacs standing behind the pulpit bragging about how good their lives are. So, Paul decides to take his hand at some egomania. He rolls off the list of how he fairs compared to these preachers who are hijacking his people: he's worked much harder, been jailed more often, beaten up more times than he can count, been at death's door time after time, flogged five times within an inch of his life, beaten by Roman rods, pummeled with rocks once, shipwrecked three times, lost at sea for a night and a day, forded rivers, fended off robbers, struggled with friends, struggled with foes, been at risk in the city and country, been endangered by the desert sun and sea storm, betrayed by those he thought were his brothers, been through drudgery and hard labor, long and lonely sleepless nights, missed meals, blasted by the cold, and naked to the weather.

He looks around and wonders, "Am I doing anything right? Do ya'll even notice what I've been through? Do ya'll even care?"

We try to be good people. We try to make a difference in the world. We try stay faithful. Yet, the problems just keep coming and they don't stop. We take a look at our coworkers, the preachers, the leaders, the politicians, and wonder how they have the audacity to smugly brag that they've done anything we haven't done. 

We don't have the money to fix our cars, go to the doctor, or buy health insurance. We work our fingers to the bone only to have sixty percent of it go to child support, and the rest to go to bills. It's easy to talk about how good life is when struggle has not been a mainstay. 

We're left with the question: "What gives?"

We take a look back at some of our previous struggles. Perhaps we had a medical condition. Perhaps we had a vehicle that died on us. Maybe we had an addiction. Maybe we were jobless. 

Where are we now? What happened? Was there something pulling us forward from the pain of the problem into a solution that worked? As we look back, we realize that there was something that stood the test of time. Actually, there were a couple of things. There was this power pulling us and moving us forward through the trials of life, and then there was this faith we had that someday, somehow, things would get better. Our sleepless nights became a little more peaceful. Our pains started becoming a little less distracting. Our problems began looking a little more like opportunities. We realized that we weren't in this deal alone. We forgot about the braggers, the politicians, the people who had the "good life," and we remembered that we had just as good a life as anybody. 

Though the troubles come, and the pain gets worse, and the vehicle gives us hell, and the money isn't there, we bend but don't break. We sway but don't fall over. We pray but don't stop. We keep moving but don't back down. Our problems become vehicles to spiritual growth and open-mindedness. Our fears are liabilities that transform into assets. We discovered that God was there all along, and that once we started seeing past the misery of our troubles, we saw a light that guided us along. 

When we're right in the middle of intense pain and struggle, it's nearly impossible to see the whole picture. Perhaps, though, we can find a little help in going back and remembering the pains of the past. Maybe we can point back to a time when yes, there was death, but there was also life and resurrection. We remember that although that was going on, there was this. 

Today's Action: With every struggle we face today, think of a past struggle. Think of how it started with death and ended in life and resurrection. Let that be what points us to the Light in the midst of our current pain. 

Seduction (Ordinary Time - Day 10)

2 Corinthians 11:1-21

There was a guy and a girl who lived with me in Galveston, and Hurricane Ike separated us from awhile. They ended up getting on a bus to Dallas, and I ended up evacuating to San Antonio. I didn't hear anything from them until days after, and up to that point I worried like crazy. 

While I was battling my own demons of alcoholism, and was somewhat sober (from alcohol but not from marijuana), I felt like I had a new lease on life. Some call this the "pink cloud," and I call it a spiritual high. Nothing could stop me, but eventually my real bottom would come. In this time period, I felt like I had the answer for everything. So, when they made it back home, the were able to get their own place with the FEMA check that came. 

They moved into a house, got a vehicle, and were on their way to supporting themselves. I felt jealous. I felt like my ability to help them was being undermined by their own ambitions to help themselves. So, I doubled my efforts to fix them the way I wanted them to be fixed. I began showing up to their house once a week to serve as their guidance counselor, financial advisor, and marriage counselor. I was determined to be their hero, even though they were doing just fine. 

Eventually, the work of trying to fix their problems was too much for one man. However, I was too afraid to expose my "project" to the church. I didn't want anybody else's opinions or suggestions to thwart my efforts. So, I kept it as quiet as I could and didn't let anybody infringe on my agendas. 

For the outside observer, this whole thing probably looked like a train wreck. I thought I was doing what was best, but really I was imposing my will on their lives in every way I could. Even though they were doing what they thought best for themselves, it didn't satisfy my inner craving to be their hero. I couldn't let go of my plans, and it was affecting them in very negative ways. 

I would show up with a calendar and try to plan out their to-do lists. I would compose a budget for them. I would get their groceries and try to get them jobs. The crazy thing about it was, I thought I was doing "God's work," but I only thought that. I was blind to my own selfish and self-seeking motives. In my efforts of trying to help them, I was hijacking their ability to help themselves. In my efforts to help them get on their feet, I was totally oblivious to the work that God was already doing in their lives. 

The relationship eventually blew up. I hurt them. The last phone conversation with the wife was one that I wish had never happened. She was crying hysterically because of the negative impacts I had on their lives. I had played a part in contacting the C.P.S. because they weren't doing what I wanted them to do. I had played a part in taking away the car that a friend of mine had donated to them, because they weren't following my directions. My control in their lives was hurting them, and all I could see was my martyrdom. 

As I read today's passage, I'm reminded of what it's like to feel responsible for someone else. I don't want them to be influenced or led in the wrong way by somebody else. If someone else tries to seduce them away from my plans and agendas, I get jealous. I'll start displaying acts of power to remind them who the hero is. I'll start competing against my competition to win them back, and it's one power struggle after another. 

This story is a vivid reminder of the chaos that ensues when I try to impose my will on anyone else's life. It ends up bad, real bad. I can see it in Paul's writing today. He's upset that the audience is being "seduced" by another lover, and he wants them back. He's angry. He starts one-upping his competitors by saying how much he has suffered in his efforts to share the gospel. He also blames the way he's talking on his competitors. He says its a bad habit he picked up from them. Yet, Paul killed Christians before he turned his life around. I don't believe these are bad habits he picked up from his competitors, but habits he had all along and hadn't done anything about. 

One thing I love about Paul is his honesty. A part of me wants to jump all over his vulnerability, but he's shooting straight. His humanity seeps through his writing. His flaws are all over the place. Yet, he keeps going. He keeps writing. He keeps following God in the way he knows best. He's jealous, angry, and deluded. I love it. 

There's a fine balance between leading people and trying to control people. In order to lead, and even to help people, there almost has to be an emotional disconnect that goes on. I can't internalize and personalize everything that my audience or friends say or do. Otherwise, I get caught in the trap of imposing my will in order to get something out of it - respect, obedience, love, honor, etc. 

Leading people is all about input. It's about what I put in, not what everyone else does. It's not about the results, but about what I am contributing to life and people. One of the aspects of leadership is knowing that people can choose whether to listen or not. The leader has no control over what the receivers do with the information. People are going to do what they think is best.

Today's Action: All of us will give directions to somebody today, whether it be kids, family members, friends, or coworkers. Learn how to be okay with them not listening. Stand in the awkward moment of not retaliating, and surrender the desire to double our efforts at controlling. 

Triptych

I made or bought three canvases about a year ago.  They have set there blank for a year.  Kaley told me yesterday that she wanted me to put a flower and a bird across the three canvases and do it in 4 seconds.

I found the name of a three paneled painting.  It's called a triptych. Here's a full-on triptych.  I have to say that I found it interesting that the heads of the flowers in the middle painting sort of go with the composition of the full-on triptych.

When I paint I seriously have no idea what I'm doing.  I'm fixing it half the time and screwing it up the other half - and all the time wondering what I'm doing.  Oh well.  I hope it turns out good in the end.  I want to be a painter.

Covert (Ordinary Time - Day 9)

2 Corinthians 10:1-18

When we think of the word missionary, what does it bring to mind? 

To me, most often, it brings to mind this narrative of someone leaving their homeland and venturing off to the inner recesses of some jungle or desert, taking something that someone else presumably needs. 

We take clean water to those who don't have it. We take medical supplies to those who have none. We take food to the homeless.

Then, there are the rest of us - the ones who pay the missionaries to go off and do God's work. 

Growing up in the Southern Baptist tradition, there was this offering called Lottie Moon. I never knew much about it except that it was this fund that went out to missionaries all around the world who were doing mission work. They were doing all the stuff that Jesus did. They were feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and taking care of the orphans and widows. There was always this distance created between me and the actual mission. The only thing that could possibly connect it was the money that would go into the offering plate. Other than that, these brave souls were distant heroes in far-away lands who were doing work that I could only dream of doing.

We dream of Africa. We dream of being like Bono. We dream of traveling to these distant lands and exotic places to help make the world a better place. I've been on my share of mission trips, and the hype that I've experienced around visiting foreign places and helping foreign people has revolved more around the exoticism of where I'm going and who I'll be with. The people are exotic and different, and it intrigues me to be around them. The people are so different from me that they need to be brought up to my level. There culture is irrelevant and outdated, their beliefs too extreme or lacking, their lifestyles too impoverished, and I need to help them. 

I've always wondered why so much emphasis growing up was placed on going somewhere else to do mission work. Was there some sort of unwritten rule that said missionaries had to go to other countries or cultures? 

While going to other countries to do mission work is really important, I believe it's even more important to not forget the missions going on where we are already planted. I've said and I've heard so many people say things like, "I just don't know what my purpose is. I just don't know what God's will is for me." We create these grandiose schemes about journeying to distant lands, or creating more churches, or converting masses of people to our belief systems. Yet, something's off just a little bit. 

If we were to step back and take a look at our schedules, and write down where we spend our most time, most of us would write down our jobs as number one on the list. We spend way more time with our coworkers and bosses than we spend with our families and friends. Yet, our minds convince us that our missions are out there, our purposes somewhere else. 

I'm giving a pep talk to myself right now because I really need it, but if anyone else finds any truth in this, then even better. Wherever we are is where we are on mission. Wherever we spend the most time is the mission field. 

This philosophy puts a new spin on mission. It takes the whole idea, and instead of wrapping it around these grandiose ideas of exoticism, it puts the mission right where we find ourselves spending the most time. The mission becomes less about who, and becomes more about what and how. 

While all our "missions" may look different, we all have the ability to love the people we spend the most time with. I so often think that I have to create these grandiose schemes to get people to believe a certain way or subscribe to a certain way of life, but really it's about the simplicity of loving and sharing life. The mission is loving in ways that are possibly countercultural, counter-consumeristic, and counter-corporational. The kind of love we have to share flies in the face of the latest beaurocratic system, pyramid scheme, and chain of command. The mission stays the same whether we're in Africa working to bring clean water, or at Target managing a store. It's the rules that change. 

We are paid missionaries, and we are given a set of rules to follow by the donors - or, employers. We have to wear certain things, do certain things, and say certain things. The rules come with the territory. Yet, we are undercover lovers. We play the game the way we're told, but underneath the layer of rule following, we are extravagantly gracious and forgiving. We are compassionate. We care about our coworkers, and even about our bosses. We even care about our presidents and CEO's, because, after all they are human just like us. Underneath the rule following, we find ourselves on mission to share life with each other, sharing our struggles and our successes, learning how to help each other out and listen. 

We are all paid missionaries. Our donors are our bosses, presidents, and CEO's. They are paying for our mission work. They are funding our missions. Just don't get out of line with the rules, because the mission may end abruptly. 

Today's Action: Follow the rules of the game. Love radically and covertly.