High Brow Pirate to Hometown Pastor To Healthy Mortal

I am not really sure how to go about writing this. I have thought about it a lot and I am still not sure. So I am going to cut to the chase and then see what happens. But first a quick story.

Not too long ago we had a visitor come to LifeBridge who sat there snorting every so often and then took the time to tell me the music blew chunks, the preaching was not polished and the communion should be done different. While he was in his consumeristic dissertation I was having a dialogue in my head that says…”I have to love this guy? There are wonderful people in this room that love well and all you can see is music and speaking cadence? I wish I could say I am sorry that you did not like the show and a sick part of me feels badly you did not like the show…but that is all it is a show. I write the script, plan the soundtrack, set the props. That’s all that happens on Sundays. I should charge admission. This is not what I signed up for. This is not what I dream of every week. This is not what caused me to cry in 2006 as I felt moved to go back to ministry.” So anyway…..story over……

After almost five years of existing as a church, we are planning the death of LifeBridge as a community. But like any good death, this is to make way for transfiguration and resurrection. What will rise in it’s place? I hope it is a Franciscan Province in Lockport, Il.

Overall, I have no regrets that we started LifeBridge in 2008. I firmly believe that it needed to happen so that some people could be helped, go through a spiritual journey, YASO could be born, and this could happen. I cannot think of any other way that I could have met the people I have met and done the things I have done with them without having gone down this road. I also know that my own faith has been transformed during this time…I think it is for the better.

I do have some regrets, but those have less to do with LifeBridge and more to do with me as a human being. My marriage dissolved during this time and I lived in a dual nature where I could be a hero in some places and total jerk in other places and I somehow had a justification for all. On those things I could not justify, I just let them eat away at my soul and my heart like a cancer devouring me. I pulled out of it, but redemption came with a cost. It was a very high price and the longer I waited to fix me, the higher the cost became. Avoid mirrors for too long and it becomes hard to face yourself. But I did.

So why shut down a church plant after five years? Money? Is the vision failing? What the hell is a Franciscan Order or Province thingy?

When a handful of people and I started this road in 2006 as an idea, it was using the new buzzword back then called missional. We wanted to be a group of people that did things that mattered to people. We wanted to live by the quote that Saint Francis had in which he said, “Preach the Gospel at all times, when necessary, use words.” This mission was bound by two things. The first was to live by the greatest commandment to love God and to love one another as we love ourselves. The second was the great commission…to spread the good news and get others to spread it in the manner that Francis suggested we do.

Having cut my spiritual teeth in a Pentecostal/Evangelical Church world, the only way I knew to do this was through church planting. So I went to an old friend for training in church planting. I served in his church as an intern for a year. You can read all about that in earlier entries.

Church planting paradigms while struggling for something tangible was hard. We put so much emphasis on the church that we (I) almost missed the beauty of what we could do. We started YASO which has helped MANY young people. We helped start the Lockport Resource Center. We helped a few widows (literally) and did some other important things and had fun doing them. All the while, struggling with growing the church.

To be honest, I have not enjoyed Sundays in about two years. Do not get me wrong, getting to hang with my community and my friends is amazing. But it was all the bs surrounding Sundays that sucked.

Market it such a way that people will wanna come.

Put on a “good show” so that they will come back while trying to remain authentic.

Hope there is enough money in the basket to pay the rent and insurance.

Hope that the people that come eventually want to get on with loving others and doing something with that love.

There are about 40,000 different denominations out there and much of looking for a church is like people shopping for a car. To be honest…we are a used beater. Not pretty, but it will get ya where you need to go….most of the time. It breaks down sometimes. Sometimes things do not always work as well as they used to…you get the point. But in the western search for spirituality, many Christians are looking for a fully loaded mercedes with heated leather seats for $50 that has a killer sounds system, DVD player, OnStar, and GPS to tell you where to go with customizable voice options to hear the direction in a manner you approve of.

There are too many hurdles in the way to just get to the love. As I said a few Sundays ago, I wanna skip the foreplay and get to the loving.

So what to do?

Well, on the personal side of my journey I have embraced the path of the mystics. Specifically that of Saint Francis. It has so tugged at me and grabbed me that I went through a postulancy period with a Franciscan order. Along the way I spoke with others in my community about simplicity, fidelity and purity. In the wake of those discussion I have seen people literally donate half their closet to others and empty their cupboards. I have entered into discussions that are followed with actions. I no longer get as mad as I used to over silly things. I try to love my enemies.

There are others who are willing to live this way with me. The Franciscan path is fascinating to me. It is not pastoral, yet there is overlap; it is not monastic, yet there is overlap. It is good and it is beautiful and we will live this out without caring about the quality of the music, the marketing, the preaching and so forth.

It is a rebuilding of the church brick by brick in love. Just like 800 years ago, it is in ruins and it is people and not buildings. All that side stuff we used to do between Sundays will no longer be the side dish, it will be the main course.

This is not easier than church, in some ways it is harder. This is something you do together and under a rule of life. There is a lot less conversation and lot more doing. In these post modern times, I feel it is something more honest to invite people than yet another church plant. That said, this is not THE way, this is a way.

It’s funny, when I speak with people with a ministry dream in their hearts, they always want to do something MORE than church…but we are so caught up in church that is the place they start. I am not opposed to church plants…but if you can sit on a hill over a town…look at the steeples and the divisions and ask yourself if you wanna be another voice there. or if you wanna sing a different song. If starting one of these churches is really what you wanna do, go for it, but if you look into the rich history of what else people have done and use the creativity burning inside you, you may see something different. I hope we have more different.

I think it is hard to do church for the post churched. I think this, neo monasticism and some other things offer some provocative ways to be spiritual, but not religious while engaging in a rule and a common life together.

I know for me this is the right path and some others may be joining me. I think this will be good for us and for the town.

Still have NO clue what to do about blogging and social media. Ah well.

Today I read a blog by Tony Jones, whom I don’t know personally, but exchanged one facebook dialogue that consisted of two sentences (see how I name drop there?). His blog is an obituary for the residential seminary and worth reading. It got me thinking about a lot of things that rumble around in my head and am afraid to share for 2 reasons mainly.

1. The thoughts are never completely fleshed out well.
2. I am afraid of what people will think, because I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer and I know that and most of the intriguing blogs out there in religion land are the smart people.

So, here goes.

I am a Star Wars fan. I have been since I first met Luke and Leah and Han and all the rest in a movie theater in LA in 1977. In todays world there are fans that read all the comics and the books, I have not read a SW book in about 5 years and I am not sure where the post Jedi and pre prequel worlds are at now. So my understanding of the current Star Wars universe is limited. This is my disclaimer and apology to the fan base. I am a minister and I went to Bible College, I was even an adjunct teacher at my alma mater. But I do not know the world of seminaries and the challenges of educators and the process there. This is my disclaimer and apology to those involved in the higher learning institutions of Christianity.

Okay. In the prequel movies you had an established Jedi Order with a council and a comprehensive training institution and mentor/discipleship program with padawans and masters.  By the end of Episode III, these things and almost all of the Jedi are no more. When you enter Episode IV-A New Hope (or as we called it in 1977-Star Wars). There is a young man named Luke Skywalker who has to learn on the fly over the course of 2 of the 3 movies. His training is hurried, rushed and incomplete, but he does become..until SW books were written…the only Jedi Master in town.As the books continue the saga in later years, we see Luke and Mara Jade and others trying to bring back the Jedi Order with what little they know, holocubes, and a reliance on the Force. But there was a gap in between the end of the institution and beginning of Luke’s training.

I often feel like Luke in a universe where the order still exists and the knights and the masters and the padawans are still happening. All I had was some time in the falcon, a few weeks in the swamp, then I got all hot headed and left before I was finished and just kinda became a master…in a world where the council still exists. Sometimes when I am in the presence of PHD’s from Fuller or an Mdiv from this or that group, I feel like Luke trying to be a peer among Mace Windu and Plo Kloon. These are people raised and trained exhaustively in matters that at times I only have a surface level of.

When asked about my education, I mostly just say I have an undergrad in Pastoral Studies. That is true. My undergrad is, however, an associates degree. Now, I have been in ministry twice in my life. When I first there it happened on the heels of my having been in Bible college for a whopping three semesters in the late 80′s. I came back in 2008 to finish off the associates by taking 2 classes. Yeah, that was basically a few weeks in the swamp learning to do handstands.

Christianity today is messy. There are about 40,000 different denominations with different levels of training and education to be a part of their orders. Some require none, and others require 6 years or more of expensive training and there are various spaces in between. Truth be told, there is a part of me that would like to be an Episcopal Priest or a UCC minister, but I do not have the time or the money to go back. I also do not know how I feel about sitting in classrooms again. I know I need to learn things, and I know there is a value to eduction. Life gets more complex in the 40′s than it does when you are young. Perhaps that was part of Yoda’s beef with Luke being too old. I dunno. I am shooting from the hip right now and not sure what I am hitting.

On the interwebz I see a lot of arguing about seminary. Some say we need to commit to this and bring back, some say we need to retool it for the modern age, some think we need to just stop it all together and just grab a light saber and get on out there. I can say this. I think the way it is currently structured makes it hard for a person in my position in life to take the seminary road and could never heed God’s call into the mainline church as a minister. On the other hand. I also know the dangers of little to no quality education. Without a grasp of our history, aspects of critical thinking and so much more…my road is sometimes more difficult. I read about 2 to 3 books a week and I believe that I do well in applying education to practical and real life and mystical and spiritual life. That said, every once in awhile I will sit down with an Episcopal Priest or an ELCA minister with an MDiv and realize what I do not know about a great many things. At the same time, there are also instances where I inspire and inform some of my better educated peers.

I do not know the right answers on the future of education or ordination. All I know is that when Luke and Mace live in the same universe as does the Jedi temple in Coruscant and a mud hut in Dagobah. Our universe is messier than the place far far away and a long time ago.

For me, it is frustrating, but I don’t hate the institutions any longer. I would like a pathway in to learn more and still be able to have time to be a dad, earn money that I need to eat and not abandon the people who need me.

***EXPLANATION ON THE PHOTO****

I dont wanna get sued by Lucas Arts or Disney, so I used a pic from Trey Stokes wonderful fan film creation called Pink Five. I chose that to not get sued and to pimp out the best fan film series on the net. Please don’t sue me if you see the pic Trey.

From August of last year until recently, it has been quite an emotional roller coaster for me. From October to December was particularly confusing and dramatic for many people. It was around the middle of December that I knew I had to pull back for awhile. I needed to not only take a break, but I needed to think some things through and deal with a lot of personal demons. Anger, guilt, questions..and things I was afraid to face, but knew I needed to face.

I needed this time so much. It helped me raise from the pit of despair I was in. It gave me time to forgive others…and myself. It gave me time to repair my relationship with my daughter. During my manic period, she lost the attention of her father. Know this, out of everything I do, she is the most important thing in my life. Over anything and everything else I do and where I invest my time, she is my priority. But there is another priority that matters to me and I completely neglected. That priority is me.

Taking care of me and learning to live life again has been good. My therapist, my spiritual director, the director of the Midwest region (and dear friend), my Zen master, my lawyer and those who are closest and most dear to my life that helped me and accepted me exactly as I was. If not for that acceptance as I am, I would never have had the room to improve. So much of my life has been spent meeting expectations and has hindered my ability to be myself to the point that I had no idea who I was anymore.

This time has not only been about recovery, healing and health. It has also been a time of growth.

It would be a lie to say that I am back. I am back in that I am out of my shell and moving forward with ministry and my involvement in YASO, LifeBridge, the PCA,  LHAMA..and another project. But what that looks like is different because I am different.

In this time I have been doing something called praying the hours, engaging in something called contemplative prayer, lectio divina and zazen (zen) meditation. Combining this with my commitment to therapy and I am more on the path of the mystic than the high energy cocky man with a hero complex. That means that I am less confrontational, less prone to anger, more relaxed about things…but not perfect. Also, I no longer do all the heavy lifting. These things that I am engaged in are shared journeys with people that mean the world to me.

I would love to sit here and name everyone. I cannot. Some people have been involved in private manners and it would not seem right to name some and omit others. Suffice it to say, in this time I have learned who my friends really are and they have been examples to me in how to love well and offer grace and unconditional love that sometimes says hard truths seeped in love.

Some of you helped me financially…because of you I have a cell phone and food. Some of you helped me emotionally…because of you I have sanity. Some of you encouraged me…because of you I have hope. Some of you held me while I wept….because of you I was honest and vulnerable and not alone. There are so many other ways people helped me. For all the little things and big things…I am beholden to you and grateful for you.

I know that it was not easy watching me making poor decisions and sometimes falling apart. I know it was hard to see me in the aftermath so sad and forlorn. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I walked away for a time, but I had to.

I am more humble now, more relaxed and there is still some road to travel.

I cannot ask you to follow me, but I am gonna ask you to walk with me as we try to do wonderful and beautiful things together in this life. I know more than ever that I need you and we were never meant to walk this life alone. That said, sometimes you need to pop off for a walkabout and figure some things out.

Let’s love well.

Namiste

Over the last few days there has been a lot of talk about St Francis due to the name of the new Pope, Pope Francis. Over the last few months I have been studying Buddhist teachings and practicing Zazen meditation. About the time that I started the church, the term ‘missional church’ was the buzzword. Simple Church was another buzzword. Living simply is not only a buzzword, but a quest.

In life I have always lived below my financial means, but still had a lot of stuff and I often longed for more and had issues staying within the monthly budget always wanting the next book, the next album and a good meal.

In September of last year I moved into a 400 square foot apartment. In it I had everything I needed and lived simply. My expenses were less than $1,000 a month and I was very content. Content was relaxing. Content was good. I had internet, but I had no cable. Since the closet was small, there was no need to buy more clothes. Since the bookshelf was full, I could read books I owned and had not read or visit the library. I took walks along a trail. I spoke with my neighbors. I would sit on the patio/deck and watch the sunset and see people milling about the Italian Restaurant across the street. I ate what was in the refrigerator, the portions were small. I enjoyed it. I was happy and life was simple.

Beyond that, there was quality to how I helped people. They could, and would, come over and I was available to aid and to live and breath life into others.

Then in December…I got a larger apartment. It was “nicer”, larger, and closer to the American dream. From there, I was shopping for a fireplace. Now, this is not a real fireplace, it is a fancy space heater with a keen light show and a mantle. That was only the beginning. Food was bought for the fridge and it would spoil, I was dining out more than eating at home. I had more channels on the television. I had more…and it ultimately led me to have less.

A life that was under a thousand dollars a month was now well over two thousand a month. I was worried about money. I was worried about things. I had less time for people. There were no more walks. There was no more leisure. Helping people was no longer an integral part of life, but something I had to try to make time for. Through a series of other issues it would be a contributing factor to the worst financial downfall of my life.

I lost the apartment. I lost the ability to pay my own bills. I lost joy and security and peace. I now live in a manner in which there can be no visitors. There is no leisure time.

I had balance. I had peace. I had simplicity and I did not know it. I had exactly what I needed and I wanted more. I did not need more. I wanted more.  You would think the last month and a half I would have learned, but I did not. Now I wanted revenge on my poverty. I wanted to not only be back to a comfort level, but beyond. I wanted to be ‘bigger’ and ‘better’ than ever.

My life heroes embraced simplicity. They found peace and happiness in it and were better able to spread peace and happiness.

I have a job now. It is a commission only sales position, but it is with a good company and it is an opportunity to rebuild. This time, the goal is simplicity. The lesson has been learned.

There is a passage in Matthew where Jesus says:

“That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing?Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?

“And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?

“So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.

“So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

For a time. For a season. I did not worry about such things. Not because I was wealthy, but because I was content in simplicity. I had enough. I had the essentials and I was truly a minister in that season. Not a pastor…a minister. Not identified by what I had…or as we so often identify ourselves…by what I did not have but longed for…but by who I was. I was in the process of becoming and I halted the process by want and desire. I now return to the good road and the simple road. Identifying with Jesus, becoming Buddha, living simply…it is all about first being content with what you have and wanting for nothing more.

Lesson learned.

Like so many others, I have been innundated with the news of the College of Cardinals and the Conclave. They are voting for a new pope. The world awaits white smoke and everyone has pontifications on Pontifex Maximus.

In America, we have cities like Chicago that are very Catholic centric. For the most part, though, we know of Christianity through the Evangelical view. Not so for the rest of the world. More than half of all Christians are Catholic world wide. That is over 1 Billion people.

I have seen many of my non Catholic clergy friends speaking about what characteristics the next Pope should and should not have. The scandals of the Catholic Church are brought up. Tasteless jokes and serious concerns about children abound. Wishes for the church to move into a more progressive direction.

I am gonna keep this short. Despite all their scandals, their problems and shortcomings socially, I am beholden to the Catholic Church. Without them, there would be no Assemblies of God in which I first discovered my faith journey. Without them, there would be no Progressive Christian Alliance in which I serve as a minister. They are a part of my lineage and also a significantly large part of this messy family that I am part of called the church.

I have my hopes for the future of the Catholic church. I would be a liar if I said I did not. That said, I also respect that I am not a Catholic. I have no authority here. I am not part of their tradition. I like that a significant part of the Conclave’s process involves prayer and meditation. I am sad that some of my fellows only see the scandals, the different image of God we hold verses the Catholic view and other dividing lines.

Fine, I have a different view on atonement and many other aspects of theology and social views…big deal.

End of the day. I pray for and with the Cardinals. I pray for and with the over 1 billion Catholics. I pray for and with the priests, the monks, the nuns (love the nuns) and all the servants in the Catholic Church. I pray for and with whomever becomes their new Pope. May he be a friend to the rest of us and may we be less smug and more loving, inviting and friendly.

Yeah…thats all.

The other day, someone I know was woken up in the early morning to be yelled at by someone close to her. This person yelled at her for fifteen minutes. Told her she was dead to her, a horrible person, and not a Christian. Why was all of this said? The person who I know did nothing more than gently make a stand for herself on a Facebook post. It was not vitriolic, it was not mean spirited. It was a justified reminder of boundaries.

I have been dealing with subtle critiques from someone over the last few months on my character in the wake of my divorce. This person has also been sharing my information to others, having private conversations about me and trying to fish for information about me from others. I have endured all of this for a long time and gave the persons words power. Then I found at that the person has a dark side filled with questionable sexual “clubs” and behaviors. When I learned this information, it was like a weight had been lifted off me. The words no linger had power because they come from someone even more broken than I am…..and quite insecure.

Now, back to my friend. The person who said these terrible things about her …well…let us just say that person is not so clean in their life either….but really enjoys pointing out the faults of others while befriending and enabling stalkers and abusers of women. Because of this knowledge, my friend was able to press on without crumbling under the empty threats and assaults of character.

We all know the old adage from the book of Matthew:

Toward the end of Jesus’ sermon on the mount he says. “Do not judge others, and you will not be judged.  For you will be treated as you treat others. The standard you use in judging is the standard by which you will be judged. And why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye when you have a log in your own? How can you think of saying to your friend, ‘Let me help you get rid of that speck in your eye,’ when you can’t see past the log in your own eye? Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye.”

Every single one of us has things we have done and things that we do that are less than wholesome. Yet we have this obsession to find the faults of others. I do this. I have done it. I likely will do it again. And every time I do it, I am wrong. We all are.

I could expose my accuser, but to what end? His dark corners are built on a low self esteem and for me to draw that out would hurt him. Further, for me to make that accusation while I know full well the actions I have taken in my life, the web sites I have viewed in my life that I should not have, and the very thoughts that I have had…I would have a log in my eye.

I guess what I am saying is that we should take comfort that anyone who insults us has something hidden in a dark closet that if challenged as Jesus did the men who were willing to kill a woman caught in adultery, they would have to drop their stones and walk away. However, we also need to make sure that we do not throw stones at others…we likely live in glass houses that are chock full of hairline fractures just ready to fall apart.

Be nice to each other and stop judging if you don’t wanna be judged. I am tired of it. I hate it. Knowing how it feels, I cannot do it to others anymore.

When I was a freshman in Bible college, I went bowling with some fellow students one night. On our walk back to campus, there was a young woman sitting on the hood of a car crying. Not gentle tears, but heaving sobs of anguish. I am sad to say we looked at her uncomfortably and kept walking. When we got back to campus one of my classmates said, “I think we should pray for that poor woman that God comforts her.” I felt like I had been stabbed in the heart when she said that and as they joined hands I walked away. Someone asked me where I was going. I said I was going to answer a prayer. When I got back to the bowling alley, she was no longer there. We should have stopped, I should have stopped.

Thich Nhat Hanh, in his work “Zen Keys” wrote:

Whenever the Buddha was asked a metaphysical question, he remained silent. Instead, he directed his disciples toward practical efforts. Questioned one day about the problem of the infinity of the world, the Buddha said, “Suppose a man is struck by a poisoned arrow and the doctor wishes to take out the arrow immediately. Suppose the man does not want the arrow removed until he knows who shot it, his age, his parents, and why he shot it. What would happen? If he were to wait until all these questions have been answered, the man might die first.”

We are surrounded by people with poison arrows. Struggling single moms, abused spouses, people out of work facing foreclosure, bullied youth contemplating suicide, rape victims convinced they did something wrong…and worse. They are dying physically, emotionally and spiritually.

The difference between the Buddha’s parable and what I see happening now is that it is not the wounded who has the questions about the nature of the arrow and from who’s quiver it came from, it is us, the pastors, who are busying themselves with deep pontifications about the nature of poison arrows and the ones who shoot them. Worse than that, we are arguing over each other over our theories of the arrows while people are dying in our presence.

We could be in the business of removing the poison arrows and saving lives, but we let them suffer and continue with our pontifications. We write more books defending our positions and not enough how to guides on relieving the suffering around us. We have more small groups/meetings/etc on the nature of arrows than we have first aid courses.

It is for this reason that I do not write a whole hell of a lot about theology.

I do think there is a place for theological and metaphysical conversations, but we have lost our balance.

I am friends with many Christian authors. I am also friends with people in the publishing industry. As far back as 2004, I have had friends in the industry tell me I am a great writer (despite my syntax and grammar issues). Some over the years have encouraged me to write books. Over the years I have been published in magazines, newspapers, online sites. I have also written some professional copy in my days as a Linux migration consultant.

I will admit, over the years I have started a few projects and even been offered a publishing deal with a specific emphasis on churchy stuff three times in my life. I have rejected all of them at some point or another.

Here are a few reasons why I cannot write a Christian book.

• Quality had suffered in the name of quantity: When I first started LifeBridge, I signed up for this thing from the makers of Relevant Magazine called the Neue Resource Kit. Every quarter you got a SLEW of books. Some were from people many of us have heard of and others were hastily…and often poorly written books. Many of these books have a shelf life of a few weeks that even milk outlasts.
• I’m just a pastor, what do I know?: Many of these books are written by pastors. So many of them suffer from some diseases. Like Christian music in the 80′s where each artist was trying to be the Xian version of this band or the next version of that popular CCM band…many of these books are either someone trying to be Rob Bell like, Donald Miller Like, Piper-esque, and so forth. Then you have the regurgitating repacking of ideas already written far better by Bonhoeffer, Lewis, etc. The other angle is writing a book as a response to another popular book to ride the wave…even if the wave is opposed to the book. There are serious theologians, sociologists and others who can forge ahead with new ideas. I am not one of them.
• Experiential Near Sightedness: I have done some amazing things in Lockport, Il. This is a town with about 25,000 people a little southwest of Chicago. It is very old, very blue collar and has some unique characteristics. What I am doing is revolutionary here…but there is nothing to support the premise that it is something that can be repeated in every town of every size in every area of the good ol USA, let alone the world. To assume that what has worked here is some universal truth for all the church to embrace is myopic.
• Yet another book about xyz? When I walk through the Christian section of a Barnes and Noble I see so many yet another book about…Jesus, ministry in the next century, church building and on and on. It is almost as bad as going through the self help book section. Often, some of these claim to have the market cornered on the topic. That is one hell of a claim considering that there are almost 40,000 different denominations in Christianity with many approaches to liturgy, theology and so forth.
• Christians aren’t the ones I would wanna write to anyway. I have thoughts and I have things I would love to say in a published work. I will admit I would like it to be about a matter of faith. That said…my ministry wheelhouse is what is now known as the “nones”.  These are the people who check off none of the above in surveys regarding religion. They are often referred to as “spiritual, but not religious”, but that is not descriptive of them at all. There is far more complexity to the very unique, and beautiful, pluralistic society we now live in. If I were to write something, I would want to write it to them…not about them as so many are doing. I am beginning to see books about how to reach the “nones”, how to interact with the “nones”, and others that rather scare me a little. Here is the rub, even if I were to write such a book, it would never be read by the people I would want to read the book, because they would never walk toward the Christian Living section at their local book store and that is, unfortunately, where the book would end up.

So, there ya go. I know no one really cares why I am not writing a book, but I decided to write this anyway.

One last thing. Most of the people I know who are published authors have not sold a zillion units and do not make enough money from it to make it their sole vocation. That said, there are some who are so consumed with how to make the book a hit, that something in them has changed…for the worse. I know me well enough to know that would be a dangerous temptation. When friends are no longer friends, but contacts to leverage a stronger demographic network…you have lost something lovely.

So here I am. I broke a lease to move in with a relative because I cannot afford the apartment. I cannot afford much of anything. I have about $80 to my name. I have half a tank of gas. I have bills mounting. So what the hell happened anyway?

Well, there were a series of mistakes. Some are too personal for this venue at the moment. But here I am. Broke, without a steady paycheck and not much time to figure it out.

My resume is out there, I am networking my butt off. I am willing to take entry level because between being a stay at home dad for so many years and working as a mostly unpaid minister in a church plant create an employment gap that some employers do not like. Blah blah blah.

Anyway. I am desperate. I am doing something that I used to to arrogantly snub my nose at…foxhole prayers. These are the prayers where you are desperate and more humble than usual. Sometimes you bargain. You and God both know the promises are suspect.

In LifeBridge last Sunday, someone asked a question in our discussion time. The question was more verbose, but it boiled down to this…why pray? If God knows what is gonna happen anyway, what is the point. A lot of people had some good input. My thought was based not on my usual emerging progressive cleverness. My answer was this.

“I don’t know how prayer works when we have a request. But I know the parable of the persistent widow. She keeps bugging the king and will not relent and eventually, the king relents. Jesus tells us to be like her. Then there is the woman who asked Jesus to heal her daughter and he looked at her, a non Jew, and asked (quite rudely) why he should help a dog. She told him even a dog gets scraps. Then there is Jacob who wrestled with God all night long over the matter of a blessing. He not only got it, but his name was changed to Israel…one who wrestles with God. So yeah, I don’t know how prayer works and I dunno where God is on my requests…but I don’t have a choice right now. I got nothing left. So I am gonna pray and pray and pray and keep on God. If God’s mind is made up on me…maybe I can get a scrap or wrestle all night for that blessing.”

I have a kid. It may not matter a hill of beans to me what others think of me, but it matters a lot to me what she sees in me. I want her to receive proper support. I want to be able to contribute to her college. I want to be able to care for her and for her to see me as a resource..emotionally..physically…in every way. At this point I am not talking about spoiling…I am talking about provision.

In this process I am also finding how more honest I get in the prayers. They are less flowery and pretty. I see myself for all my pride, my cleverness, my doing things in the name of God that God likely wanted nothing to do with. The cleverness is gone. But there is something else sometimes. There is an anger. At times in my prayer I find myslef saying,”Hey! I get it, I made some mistakes. I screwed up. I have apologized to people and I have tried to make restitution. What is it gonna take for a shot here. I am not talking about the winning lotto ticket…just get me a dang interview. Bring me to the table cuz I cannot control who likes my resume on Monster or sees something in me in Linkedin. I can’t do that. I wanna pay my bills…I wanna work hard…I wanna earn my keep. I just need a seat at the table across from someone who makes those decisions. What’s it gonna take? Huh?”

There is anger…there is questioning….there is a clarity of what I am trying to get.

I don’t know how prayer works. I also know that I feel for the foxhole prayer more than I ever have before. You are admitting you don’t know how this works. You are honest. You are desperate. You also learn some things about yourself.

The fiscal mistakes made from greed and gluttony are gone when you just wanna buy groceries and put gas in your car. The pride is gone when you see your cleverness and arrogance created one big mess. You also know what you really want to do and what you are willing to do.

I have learned from my mistakes. I know what I have to do when I get a shot. I am willing to do the work. I just need a shot. One shot.

I don’t know how prayer works. I have said that before. I dunno if this is something in God’s wheelhouse. All I know is that theology no longer matters. Clever no longer matters. All I know is that I need help and I cannot let go. Hope is all that gets me out of bed in the morning. Hope that God cares…or is at least tired of hearing from me and needs a break.

I’ve been studying for a state exam that I need to make an attempt at a specific job I am hoping to do well in. Before I can take the exam I have to do fifteen hours of classroom study and twenty five hours of online study.

I have done all of the classroom and self study, but before I can take the state exam I need a certificate from the authorized training agency that says I have been able to successfully pass a pre-test.  I have been struggling with this. I tried multiple study techniques, but they were not cutting it for me. Until I realized the software on the pretests will not only show you which answers you got wrong, but why they were wrong.

After each attempt at the test I would review the questions I missed, learn what the right answer would have been, and why. Within 3 days my scores rose drastically and I was able to finally master the tests. Not only that, but as opposed to regurgitating right answers, I was able to better understand WHY the correct answer is the correct answer.

All of that is fine and good, but there is more.

My perception on mistakes had shifted! Instead of getting frustrated over incorrect answers, I wanted to see what my weak areas were and strengthen them. I desired to identify the errors to know how to avoid them the next time I encountered that situation. I was seeking out the errors to better understand the right action. I learned more from my mistakes than from reviewing the book and condensed study packets and software tutorials. My mistakes made me a better person and master something I desperately wanted to master.

I stopped multi tasking! I have a lot on my plate right now. The test is actually two tests in two areas of discipline. I was trying to do both at the same time while doing all the other messy things in my life. I focused on one area of discipline at a time and when engaged in that, I was not engaged in moving materials from one place to another, working on relationships, and solving all the world’s problems. I focused on one thing and one thing at a time and set aside time for it.

I took breaks! Trying harder when your anxiety is up and the pressure is on is not productive. After reflection on the errors I would step away and do something else for a short period of time. That ranged from reading, listening to music, taking a walk, addressing something small on my to do list and other things that could be done quickly and singularly. When I came back to the material, the mind was more relaxed and focused.

My point?

The exercise of getting past this hurdle has affected the way I view the other mistakes and errors I have made and will make. There are mistakes. As opposed to punishing myself, I am looking at them and seeing not only alternative decisions I could have made, but WHY the alternative answer, action or decision would have been better. Furthermore, I am no longer looking at everything that needs to be done. Instead, I am focusing on one thing at a time. I am allowing for period of rest, distraction, and even momentary delight.

I know that for some, all of this is common sense. It is for me too. That said, it is different when you are living it and you see the difference of actually living it. In my case, it starts with a test, but it is analogous of the choices I need to make in my life.