Run for the DR

It's interesting how often Scripture describes our lives as being short and fleeting. Our lives are described as "blades of grass, surely fading fast"; or, a "mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." It really makes you think about how you spend your time on this earth. If we only have one life to live, how will we live the best way possible? Or, think about this: what if you knew you only had one year, or even just one month left to live?  Would that change how you viewed each day? Would that change how you spent your time on this earth? Kris Allen, winner of American Idol a few years back, has a song called Live Like We’re Dying. It’s a catchy song, but also has a profound message: Would our lives look different if we lived each and every day like it was our last? We asked our youth group a similar question this fall: How can we live the best lives possible for God? We came up with a few ideas.

This October, our youth group, The BURN, is raising funds for the Dominican Republic. This past summer we met a missionary named Andrew Butz. Andrew is traveling to the Dominican Republic to build a Christian camp with the Eastern Dominican Mission (www.easterndominican.com). We thought that was awesome. We love going to camps in the summer and think kids in the DR should have the same opportunity. So, we decided we would do something to help. Our plan is to run. Now, we are not necessarily a youth group of runners or superb athletes; however, we feel that anyone can walk or run and that this simple activity can be used for a greater purpose. On October 23, we are participating in the Huntington Beach Distance Derby. We will run, walk, and crawl either 5 or 10 miles. Each student and leader is collecting sponsorship from family and friends to support the Eastern Dominican Mission.

For many of us, this will be a challenge. The last time I ran even close to 10 miles was in high school. That was a while ago. That was a time when I didn’t have any aches or pains, or a full-time job. Needless to say, this will not be easy for most of us. We are sacrificing our time. Some of us are changing our diets to help accomplish this goal. Nevertheless, we are doing this because it is going to make a difference. We know that partnering with Andrew and the Eastern Dominican Mission is going to bless God’s people. This is a small, simple thing we can do to make a difference in someone’s life.

I'm sharing this on my blog becasue I'd like to invite you to partner with us in ministry this fall. Perhaps you want to join us in this run. My doctor tells me exercise is good for me, so maybe you want to train with us and collect sponsorships as well. We would love to have you! Or, maybe you don't want to run, but want to partner with us financially. You can choose to sponsor one of us per mile we complete, or make a one time donation. I assure you, any amount will help the DR! I will be updating my blog (weekly I hope) with insights that we’re learning as we train together as well as the progress were making financially.

This fall, we are attempting to live like we’re dying. We’re running for the DR. Ole!

Memorable Scenes

I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am kind of cheesy. Don’t worry. It’s cool… I’m over it. I realized long ago that I like corny jokes and the occasional pun. Plus, I am still a fan of Disney movies, happy endings, and idealism. Yep, I am inherently cheesy and corny. I often think of my “cheesiness” in relation to how others may view it. Whenever something momentous happens, I feel like I have to make a speech. Or, when saying goodbye to a friend or loved one, I have the strange urge to write them a poem or a sonnet of some kind that reveals my love for them. I can’t say I’ve ever done this, for fear of their reaction to such a grandiose gesture, but I have certainly thought about it. I’m trying to work on not caring so much about what other people think. It’s like what Bon Jovi said, “It’s my life. It’s now or never...I just want to live while I’m alive.” I guess I’m starting to realize that the moments that make up my life are worth remembering. Further, I don’t want to be the kind of person that lets a significant moment pass me by. Life is too short for that and I want to live while I’m alive… even if it means that I get labeled as “cheesy” once in awhile.

In his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller talks about creating memorable scenes in your life. These are the events in life that you make a point to remember. Moreover, these are the ordinary, every day happenings that you choose to make memorable. I remember a buddy of mine in college asked me one day what God thinks when we say, “I’m bored.” He wondered if saying, “I’m bored” frustrated God, and God was confused Maybe God said, “How could my kids feel bored when they’ve been given so much life to live? How could they not enjoy the creation of another day of life?” I, too, wonder how I get bored at times when there are so many scenes to create.

This past Labor Day weekend, my wife and I were at a family camp near Yosemite. We had a wonderful time there with some great people. On our final day of camp we took out a paddle boat and were enjoying a relaxing time in the water. We paddled about the lake watching kid’s splash around and picked blackberries near the water’s edge. As we were making our way around the lake, something on the other side caught my eye—the flume. It was a giant water slide that launched its passengers several feet in the air, before they crashed into the water below. It was probably the coolest thing I’d ever seen. My cousin happened to be standing next to shore and suggested I give it a try. I didn’t have my swimsuit on or even a towel with me. This bit of information, however, didn’t seem to stop him from encouraging me to ride the flume. “After all,” he said, “if you try it, then you won’t have any regrets.” No regrets. That was all the motivation I needed. I was ready for the flume.

A few minutes later I was handing over my cell phone and wallet to my wife and climbing the hill for the flume slide. I rode the flume, screaming the whole way down at the top of my lungs. I made a sound, actually, a screech, that I’m sure will be similar to the sound of Justin Bieber’s voice when he hits puberty. It was thrilling and it was definitely memorable. I’m not going to forget the giant flume slide, in my clothes, and the ability of my vocal chords to hit such high notes. It was a scene worth creating.

I had another moment happen recently that I wanted to capture as well. The other night, I said goodbye to some of our friends who were leaving. It was a surreal moment, the kind where you think, “This is not happening. Life is not about transitions and change, which sometimes require people to leave—you’re kidding me, right?” It’s the same kind of moment we all experience when we realize that we can’t change something or someone for that matter, and we have to accept the outcome for the way it is. It’s a reminder to relish in those moments because they are gone as soon as they appear.

Life tends to be full of moments to be experienced and memorable scenes to create. I’m pursuing what I feel is the best way to live. This means that I have to be cheesy sometimes. I have to be that guy who dances at weddings when no one else is on the dance floor, and the guy who goes down giant water slides with his clothes on. I need to speak what is on my heart and say what I want others to know. If my life is a story that I’m writing daily, then I want to create as many memorable scenes as possible. After all, I have to be true to myself. In the words of the great philosopher, Popeye, “I yam what I yam”; that seems to be enough motivation for now to keep creating memories.

Have you practiced tzedakah today?

"Our works of charity are nothing but the overflow of our love of God from within." Mother Theresa

I really like the television show Rob Dyrdek's Fantasy Factory. Rob is awesome. If I saw him walking down the street I would ask him if we could be friends. He is cool guy. I don't know what it is about Rob Dyrdek, but he seems to live life to the beat of his own drum. He invests in all sorts of odd real estate including a fantasy factory that has a foam pit and a zip line. (I guess if I was rich I would probably do the same thing--build a sweet place for all my friends to play around in.) I was watching an episode the other day where he asked Lamar Odom to invest in a restaurant because a true "mogul" needs a restaurant. The restaurant will serve Asian fusion food. I want to go to there.

 It's pretty obvious that Rob spends a lot of money on extravgant things. But he also practices charity. I like that about Rob. In his abundance he, in some form or another, has understood that many around him don't have as much. I remember an episode from Rob and Big, where Rob chose to give from his abundance. Rob was driving through skid row and handing out bags of brand new clothes. He gave from what he had to those who had nothing. Rob Dyrdek practiced tzedakah.

There is a great teaching in the Old Testament about charity. It is captured in the word tzedakah. God commanded his people to give to those who had nothing. They were reminded that the poor would always be among them; therefore, they should always be ready and willing to give (Deuteronomy 15:11). Tzedakah is often translated as "charity," and is based on the Hebrew word for righteousness and justice. Many Jews practiced something called "acts of righteousness"--the right ordering of relationships and resources. Tzedakah can be translated as charity, but is is more than that. Charity implies that your heart motivates you to give and maybe give a little extra than you normailly would; tzedakah, however, means doing the right thing no matter your feelings. I guess tzedakah might look like giving to someone in need even if your heart is not in it because it is the right thing to do.

Jesus embodies this teaching in the gospels. He gives of his time and resources to those who are in need. He makes relationships right by his many healings and his radical inclusion of outsiders. Perhaps we can even say that the ultimate example of tzedakah happened when Christ chose the cross for us. A gift of grace and love, to make things right (Romans 4:22-25).

God has called his people to make things right in this world. It should be known that the world is full of people practicing tzedakah. Maybe they don't realize the connection between their charity and the heart of God. When you see someone give and serve, tell them they are making things right and that God is pleased. Show them that our God is a God of compassion and justice. Live in such a way that you overflow with compassion towards others. We can all do something. We can all live with tzedakah. And we can even learn a valuable lesson from Rob Dyrdek.

Arizona Adventures: What we learned from exercise DVDS

Theologians are everywhere. Sometimes the most profound statements about God and faith are found not in books, but in a life lived and experienced together. These insights just seem to happen. Suddenly, during our regular and ordinary lives, the extraordinary occurs. God reminds us that He is with us.


It was like that in Arizona. God reminded us that He was there, working and ministering to us through His Spirit. We were in awe. There was so much healing that took place that week in the mountains. We confessed sin, admitted that we had fallen short, and replied unanimously, “Me too; I’ve been there, and I’m struggling with you.” We were reminded that this journey of faith is not a yellow brick road that leads to a life of prosperity and ease. Sometimes the road is marked with suffering, confusion and loss. Sometimes we forget that the gift of following Jesus Christ is not Cadillac’s, cash, and no colds; rather, the gift of following Jesus is Jesus. And he is worth the struggle.

One of our students made a profound statement while at camp. He remembered it from the P90X exercise DVDS that are so popular. He said, “I have not failed; I have not given up. Instead, I am currently struggling with this…” I thought that was incredible and I think we can all agree…me too! We are struggling but we have not given up. We are in need of grace and acceptance. Our sights are set upwards and no matter what happens we are not quitters, losers, or lost causes. Instead, we are those who believe and are saved. (Hebrews 10:39).

I smiled that evening as I looked upon a group of high school students who were genuinely living life together—no pretenses, no facades, and plenty of humility. We realized that we are struggling together, along with our King. And we will continue this fight because Jesus is worth it. We will pursue grace. Our Savior is not looking for us to attain awards, fame and accolades in this life. No, it is quite the opposite in fact. He is looking for scars and battle wounds as we struggle upwards, continually pursuing the Light.

Arizona Adventures. Part 1: The Road Trip

About a week ago we loaded up a few vans, piled in some high school students, and headed east to the land of deserts, and heat and Steve Nash. That’s right, we went to the AZ. It had been a while since I’d driven for so long and I was reminded of the many reasons why I like road trips. You get to deal with back pain, people getting car sick, high way patrol officers, and… did I mention people getting car sick? Yep, road trips are awesome. One thing is for certain, though: no matter what happens, a road trip is always an adventure.

I think one of the simplest things a road trip does is remind you of all the analogies you can make between traveling and life. There are some great songs that tie in this idea too. For starters, there are country songs like, Life is a Highway. Or classic rock ballads like Journey’s hit, Wheel in the Sky. And then there are Lady Gaga songs…well, I don’t really learn anything from her songs; they just end up creeping me out like clowns and trips to the dentist. Anyways, I think at the core, a road trip reminds us of something we already know to be true: where we started is not where we will end up. Our road trip began in Downey, and a few hours later we ended up in Blythe (gross) and then finally found beautiful Prescott. A road trip reminds us that the same is true for life. We are constantly on the move, preparing for the next part of our journey. Where we started is far behind us, and the future is closing in on us. Our lives are filled with the memories of the roads we’ve traveled, and the pit stops we’ve made.

Interestingly, our youth group’s summer theme this year is “Join the Journey.” We’ve been talking about how every person is on a spiritual journey and how God is revealing himself to creation. (And, coincidentally, we went on a mini journey to Arizona, and listened to a lot of Journey music to help us truly realize this theme. Everyone loves Journey, right!?) I believe Scripture teaches us that every person, no matter what, is on this spiritual journey and is being made aware of His presence. We, then, have a choice to make: How will we respond to Him? We’ve asked our kids some tough questions this summer like, “Where are you really at in this journey with God?” Do you feel you are trying to follow God’s path, or are you following your own? And, will you follow God even when things don’t go the way you’ve planned?” Needless to say, it has produced some very honest and candid conversations. Out on the open road, I was reminded of this truth over and over again. As I sat in this driver’s seat and watched the miles add up, I couldn’t help but wonder “where is my life heading? What kind of adventure am I writing with the miles I travel?’

In his book, Western Theology, Wes Seeliger says that there are two types of people who give rise to two types of theology. You are either a “pioneer” or a “settler.” You either view life as a possession to be guarded, or a gift to be explored. A settler is someone who desires security. They build fortresses, establish towns complete with court rooms and law offices, and construct forts. A settler is a person who establishes themselves, and dares not to move. They protect themselves from danger and make sure they uphold the rules. A pioneer on the other hand, is someone who blazes trails. They aren’t content with building monuments, but would rather explore the unknown. They don’t spend time building systems to protect themselves from outside forces; rather, they are out in the wilderness, confronting and facing danger head on. Think about it: are you a settler or a pioneer? Is your life an adventure to be lived and experienced or something to be guarded and kept tame? Truthfully, I probably act more like a settler at times, but in the deepest parts of my soul I desire to be a pioneer. I don’t want to accept something just because someone says it’s so. Likewise, I don’t want to secure my life just because it’s easier. I want to be in the wilderness. I want to face the open road. I want my journey to be marked by reckless abandon, and ruthless trust in God’s leading, not my own.

I guess it comes down to a choice on how I want to view my life. Comfort is a nice thing to have in your lazy boy chair, but a lousy thing to settle for as a follower of Christ. I have to remind myself that Jesus didn’t come to make my life comfortable. He came to invite me on a journey. He tells me that sometimes this journey will be unsafe and dangerous. And he invites me to live like a pioneer, a traveler who is not afraid to face the open road. A road trip reminds us that we are travelers, apart of an epic journey. We are not the same people we were when our journey began, and we won’t be the same when our journey ends. We already know the beginning and end of our story (you know the whole creation and heaven thing). The middle, though, is left up to us. And I for one want to go on more road trips.

To Stay or Leave: what I learned from Bron Bron.

It was the most highly anticipated free agency ever. Where would “King” James choose to go next season? It was funny because all I had to do last Thursday was say, “is it 6:00pm yet?” and everyone knew what I was talking about—even people who don’t watch basketball were tuned into the news. It was that big a deal.

Here's the truth: I am biased. I am a Lebron James fan (this doesn't mean I will ever sport a Heat jersey). I believe he was the undisputed MVP this past year. Yes, his team didn’t make it the finals; and yes, he had a rough series against the Celtics, but he was and still is incredible. I am biased because I love watching Bron Bron. We are the same age (even though he looks like he is like he’s in his late thirties; not the youthful twenty-five that he is). I remember the first time I saw Lebron. I was an eighteen year old preparing myself for four years of college; Lerbron was entering into the NBA. The first time I saw him play was at the McDonald’s All American Game. There were tons of people there, and a myriad of good players that year, but no one cared. All eyes were on Lebron. Truth be told, they still are.

I guess that’s why he shook the nation Thursday, declaring where he’d play next season. The gauntlet was dropped that evening when he announced he would no longer play for his home state’s team, the Cavs, but would instead, sign with the Miami Heat. In Cleveland mayhem ensued. Grown men cried in the streets, the GM of the Cavs reacted like a jealous girlfriend who just got dumped via Facebook and reamed Lebron with hate speech, and let’s not forget the biggest crush: a city’s heart was broken. Who knew the departure of a professional athlete could cause such despondency? Seriously, there was more crying Thursday than the night of the season finale of Friends. There was sadness in Ohio, but move a few miles to the south (South Beach to be exact) and people were dancing in the streets. And everywhere else in the country, well, the reaction seems to be mixed. A superstar joining a trio of great players is not as sweet a story as a local kid making his hometown great. I think there was a part in all of us that wanted him to stay. But what did we really expect from Lebron? It brings up an interesting point, and perhaps even a theological one: when is it right to stay, and when is it right to go?

I know what it’s like to have someone you respect and care about leave. Undoubtedly, we’ve all experienced the sting when someone leaves us whether it’s a teacher, coach, pastor, or loved one. Let’s be honest. There is pain involved. We may feel betrayed, abandoned, and not important. We question the individual’s loyalty and motives, and usually, we respond to their exodus with anger. I remember suffering a stint of fleeing youth pastors in middle school and high school, many of whom only stayed for a short while. After about a year they scattered quickly, like a dog when he hears the sound of the evil vacuum cleaner. It was rough for me personally and also for my church and youth group. Certainly, you communicate a lot to an organization and the people in your life with the amount of time you give them. The quantity of time truly communicates the care you have for them. But like in Lebron’s situation, does there come a time when it is right to leave? It’s difficult to answer this question when you’ve been “left” but if the situation is reversed, you may understand the importance of moving on.

Seven years ago when Lebron was signing with the Cavaliers, I was signing loan documents to attend college. While Lebron put on a Cav’s jersey and signed his multi-million dollar contract, I moved away from family and friends to start a new life in California. Even as an eighteen year old fresh out of high school, I knew wasn’t going back. I knew I had to leave. It was on my heart, and it was the direction God was calling me to go. Leaving the people you love and the security of what you’ve known is an arduous task to say the least. It is not a pain-free path to go down. However, in hindsight, I know it was the only option that I could live with. Henri Nouwen explains in his book Here and Now, that following Jesus is really an adventure in leaving. He asks the question:

“Are we able and willing to unhook ourselves from the restraining emotional bonds that prevent us from following our deepest vocation? Jesus wants to set us free, free from everything that prevents us from fully following our vocation…to come to that freedom we have to keep leaving our fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters, and dare to follow him…”

Do we dare to follow Him even if it means we have to leave? Even if that means the people around us will be upset, and feel betrayed? Can we live with the disapproval of our peers and the ambivalence of our emotions (wanting to stay and knowing we need to go) in order to pursue what is best? Jesus challenges us to seek first the kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33), and the necessity of “leaving” in order to attain the life he came to give us (Luke 18:29-30). That is a tough pill to swallow. But even in the difficulty of knowing when to stay and when to leave, there is hope. At the end of the day, we have to live with our decisions. Lebron said Cleveland will always have his soul. He gave them seven years of his life. He is not betraying a city, he is following his heart. That is something no one can judge him for.

We may never fully understand the reasons people need to leave in our lives. Likewise, we may also not fully comprehend those reasons when we’re the ones to leave! The truth is, however, that there is a time to stay and a time to go. It sounds cliché, and is probably worded more poetically and eloquently in that series about love and vampires and werewolves, but there is a time to listen to your heart. God gave us the ability to do so for a reason. We can’t fault Bron Bron for making the choice to leave. In life, there is a time to stay and a time to leave. We all have to make that choice eventually.

Fields of Gold

Every once in a while you hear a song that speaks to a deeper part of you. Words aren’t enough to describe the feelings; you just know something is happening in your soul. One of these songs for me is Fields of God. This song is a little old school, so I will attach a link for you to check it out--Fields of God. The song was written by a creative, English gent named Sting. I like Sting. He has one of those unique voices that you couldn’t copy, even if you moved to England to develop an accent, and owned a karaoke machine. He is one the few artists that can take me to another world when he is singing. Regardless of what I am doing, I get lost in his music. Besides his incredible voice, his songs tell stories.

A couple years ago I was heading to Arizona with my wife and family, driving across the desert to her aunt’s house in Prescott. Not to bash on the AZ, but I’d visited several times before and left unimpressed. I even wrote a poem below:

Arizona

It was hot

There was sand

There were cacti

And Steve Nash

Arizona

We’d been driving for what seemed like forever in road trip time, and I was cramped in the back of a mini van… and my legs were restless. (I’m pretty sure I have some mild form of restless leg syndrome.) To say the least, I was ready to be done with the road trip thing. I decided to get lost in some tunes. I put my headphones on, closed my eyes and let the i-pod do its magic. After some time, the song Fields of Gold started to play. Around the same time, our minivan traveled around a canyon of some sorts, and to the right side I saw fields of yellow grass, gracefully bowing to the wind. The cinematography was impeccable, almost like it was a movie. I had a moment in the back of the mini van, listening to Sting, watching this field of gold sway to the rhythm of the music. Arizona was beautiful when Sting was singing to me.

This memory stuck with me for some time. I was reminded of it recently when I went to Barnes and Noble. Inside the everything-is-only-$5-section, I found a book written by Sting, explaining the meaning of many of his songs. Immediately, I turned to the index and found Fields of Gold. I turned to the page to read the lyrics, and Sting’s brief commentary. He said he used to watch tall, golden barley stocks sway in the wind in his countryside home in England. He said it was poetic, like the sky was telling a story to the golden barley field that it would never forget: earth and sky participating in a great love affair, touched by the heavens. I believe the song is about more than Sting’s affinity for agriculture; it’s a tale of love.

The mystery of love is that the heart has the capacity to give it and receive it in great quantities. Moreover, love has the capacity to change people. One of the peculiarities of love is the propensity of it to come and go. In this journey of life we love and lose, and give and take. Heart-break occurs and futures change. It’s almost like the inevitable pain of young romance, prepares us to love more deeply and more truly one day. It makes you wonder, though, if there could be a love affair so pure and so strong that it gets trapped somewhere between heaven and earth.

At my wedding, I watched my beautiful bride walk down the aisle—our eyes, fixated on one another. We danced at our reception, swaying to the music, caught up in the story of us. I had a great uncle and aunt who attended the wedding. They’d been married for over 50 years. The entire guest list cheered wildly when they were announced as the longest married couple in the room. Everyone loves a good love story because it points us to something deeper than the temporary. Great love stories never go to the grave; they live on in our world, reminding us of its great gift.

One of the lines from Fields of Gold describes the sun in the jealous sky. That line has always haunted me. I know my days are numbered, and as the Bible says, my life is but a blade of grass, a vapor that will quickly vanish. After a few years, my body will decay and disappear. Give it a few more years and my pictures will slowly come off the walls of family and friend’s homes. My memory will be relegated to a cardboard box in someone’s garage. But I believe a part of me will live on—that part of me that beheld love. I may pass on many things to those who come after me: old t-shirts, a guitar, a few dozen books…maybe even one of my Star Wars Pez dispensers. But the only truly meaningful memory I will leave behind is the memory of love. Hopefully, those who knew me best will remember my love and that will bless them. No matter how jealous the days will be of my life, how short my life on earth may be, a part of my love will never be forgotten. That is the part of me that will live on years after I’m gone. Love is the gift we can all leave behind.