The 10 Miler

Going for run is kind of like going to the dentist. No one wants to do it. You begin this venture consciously knowing that some form of pain is involved; and yet, when it’s over, you’re glad you ran…or went to the dentist. Well, in theory that’s how it works.

This past Saturday I participated in a 10 mile run at Huntington Beach. It was a great day spent with friends and students from my youth group. As the race started, I found myself at the very end of the pack and slowly moved up past the joggers and positioned myself somewhere in the middle of this large group of runners. About four miles into the race, I noticed that I was running by myself. I began focusing on this kid ahead of me who looked like he was eleven. I made it my goal to pass him.

It wasn’t too long after this that I met Jeff. He ran up next to me and asked what my pace was. I replied: “No idea.” Truthfully, I didn’t care. I just wanted to finish the race. Jeff told me he wanted to run under 9 minutes a mile and I thought that sounded good. So, for the next six miles I ran with Jeff. We made some small talk, and spurred one another on. This was my first “race” since high school when I ran cross-country. For Jeff, though, this was just another typical Saturday morning. He likes running and participates in a number races throughout the year. I thought Jeff was a little crazy, but nonetheless, a nice guy.

Around mile eight, I realized that I was going to finish the race. Furthermore, I realized that Jeff was playing a huge role in helping me run. Maybe it was his enthusiastic remarks or the fact that I had somebody to keep in step with. Whatever the reason, my run that day was better because of Jeff.

Jeff’s willingness to befriend me and run with a complete stranger taught me a little bit about encouragement. There have been numerous spiritual gift questionnaires I’ve meticulously filled out and received encouragement as one of my gifts. I don’t know how accurate those tests are. I had a junior high student fill one out once and his number one gift was “speaking in tongues.” He asked me if that meant Spanish. I told him yes and it also meant the ability to speak Elvish.

My understanding of spiritual gifts has changed over the years. I’m not sure if encouragement is a gift some people have and others don’t. I think we often equate “being nice” with encouragement. (However, I know some really nice people who are not encouraging.) Real encouragement, though, is deeper than good manners and sentiments. True encouragement has less to do with the actual words we use and more to do with the time we’re willing to share with someone.  It has to do with presence. When we can say we’ve shared life with a friend and stood by their side through thick and thin, perhaps, then, we understand encouragement. I have people in my life who are constant like that. I know they will stick with me as the miles add up. Encouragement happens in those moments when someone asks us where we're heading. It continues when they stick by our side for the remainder of the journey.

Thoughts on Phantom of the Opera

I’ve only been to a few musicals. It wasn’t something I did growing. I mainly stuck to things I was familiar with like sports and action movies. All that changed, however, when I met my wife; a true thespian. She has shared her love of theater with me and I am grateful. Moreover, I feel slightly more sophisticated these days. The other night we went on another musical adventure, this time to see Phantom of the Opera.

While watching the production live, I realized that Phantom is a good story, full of themes that touch the human spirit. The main character, the Phantom, is a confusing and remarkable character. Throughout the musical he appears to be searching for something. Through allusions in the play, as well as knowing the background to the story, we figure out he desires acceptance. His life has been defined by failure and rejection. As a viewer, you don’t know what to make of him. Is he the villain or the hero? He does both heroic and villainous deeds in musical—murder, extortion, sacrifice, stalking—and you are drawn to ambivalence about him. I heard one writer describe the Phantom as a “Parisian Batman.” (After all he has a cool lair and some sweet gadgets. Furthermore, he has his own Phantom-boat which sort of looks like a gondola designed by Tim Burton.) What do you do with this character? You are mesmerized by him and scared of him. Kind of like Carrot Top.

The ambivalence continues as the story proceeds. You feel compassion towards him because of the facial scarred, Harvey Dent look he’s sporting. He desperately longs for compassion and your heart goes out to him. On the one hand, he has this bad boy image. He’s dark, elusive and has a great singing voice. This makes him romantic. And then you have to deal with his creepy stalker persona. Needless to say, he is complicated. My wife made a really good point about the “emotion” portrayed by different actors who play the Phantom.  At times, the Phantom comes across as defeated and weak. In the movie version, though, Gerard Butler does an amazing job of showing the Phantom is not a helpless, pitiful creature; rather, he is a tortured soul, in deep agony over his predicament. He is in love, even though he finds himself unlovable.

The ending scene I found particularly powerful. After the Phantom has unleashed his villainous rage on the opera house, he kidnaps Christine and takes her once again on his scary gondola ride to his secret lair. When the man she professes to love, Raoul, comes to her rescue, the Phantom puts a noose on his neck. He then tells Christine to make a choice: live with the Phantom and spare the life of Raoul or reject the Phantom and Raoul dies. A dilemma indeed. Christine, though, has a different plan. She pleads with the Phantom and then makes a bold move: she kisses him. The kiss causes something to change in the Phantom’s mind. It is a pivotal, musical-altering moment.

In writing and film, a kiss is often a symbolic gesture in many ways. A kiss symbolizes affection, love, even sacrifice. In this instant, the kiss reveals that Phantom has finally been shown acceptance and compassion. Until now, he’s only known rejection. He has become a slave to finding some way that he can be complete. Earlier in the musical when rejected, he lashes out on those around him. He has tried through the power of music and seduction, but was denied. Acceptance has always been his pursuit, his endeavor and his initiative. In the final scene, though, Christine chooses to share this kiss with him. The Phantom receives it. In all of his efforts to attain the one thing he desired, it happens without his initiative. He releases Christine and Raoul, and the musical comes to an end.

An easy way to figure out if a play is a comedy or tragedy is whether or not the main character gets what he wants. Although the Phantom doesn’t win the affection of Christine, it doesn’t mean the musical is a tragedy. He certainly pursues her and we can assume desires her, but there is something deeper that he as longed for: freedom. The Phantom has lurked in the shadows for years, searching to be free from his predicament. It becomes his obsession to the point of stalking his protégé and threatening her in order to find acceptance. But he doesn’t get it in this way. He becomes even more estranged. Finally, though, acceptance is given in the form of a kiss. Something he could never take, but only receive.

We want to live free. Perhaps this freedom we desire is from a sin or compulsive behavior. Maybe we desire freedom from the voice of self-doubt or low self-esteem, or even from our past. No matter what the desire, freedom will not happen by working harder or striving further in our lives. We cannot do enough to acquire it. Just the opposite is needed—to stop trying and start accepting. True freedom happens when we choose to receive from God.

Freedom is a byproduct of receiving life in Christ. Can we accept what Christ has done, and start a process of transformation, partnering with God’s Spirit at work within us. Can we choose not to take, but rather to receive what the Father has already done for us? 

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.