HARAMBEE!

Wow - I'm terrible at blogging! I hope you guys who read this aren't counting on really knowing what's going on around here through my blog. If that is the case, you better be reading Jill's blog! It has all the current information.

I just wanted to post a quick blog to start the process of processing my upcoming trip to Kenya. We (myself and two buddies from church) leave June 10th and return around June 26th. God is good and has opened the door for me to return to Kilifi and visit old friends and encourage the Christians there.

One of the key cultural principles in Kenya, in fact its such a part of their culture that they put it in the official seal of the country (see above) is called HARAMBEE. It's the Swahili word that means "Let's Pull Together". It was traditionally used when men worked together to accomplish a huge task, much like we might chant "Heave, ho!" In modern times, it expressed an event that celebrates the community coming together to support a cause or special project. We often encountered them when people were building a church building or providing school fees for a student's higher education. I'm asking you to join with me in the spirit of HARAMBEE for my trip. God's provided the finances, but would you join in praying for us?

I'm not sure what God intends for this trip, I just feel like He's called me to go. Pray for guidance - that God will reveal himself and his purpose for our visit. Pray for our safety and pray for our families here. Pray that God will be glorified and his Kingdom lifted up through our travels.

Stay tuned for updates...

This past Sunday was tough. I'm not exactly sure what precipitated it - whether it was the backside of the peak from the worship conference, situations at work that were distracting, a heady realization that what I've been preaching to myself as a panacea isn't true, or just a low moment following the showing of a powerful video in our class time Sunday morning. Whatever it was, it was all I could do to immobilize my legs and keep them from walking out the door during the middle of the service. And I really don't know why I stayed. Maybe it was because my nephews were there and I didn't want to answer questions when they got home. Maybe I was scared - scared that someone would ask what was wrong. Maybe I was really scared - really scared that no one would notice I left nor ask why nor understand when I tried to explain myself.

I've been preaching to myself that our (that's a global "our", not a "Jill and I" our) experience with church is primarily about relationships and worship is a state of mind, an action of lifestyle rather than an hour on Sunday morning. Our church is wonderful when viewed that way - we've made some good friends in our church and relationships are continuing to get deeper the longer we stay. Good things are happening that are drawing our church closer together and causing them to think about reaching out. But as I looked around me on Sunday morning, I couldn't help but think, "Why would I EVER invite someone to this? That gathering seemed so irrelevant to real life, so plastic and cheap, so depressing. I'm not opposed to tradition or even ritual. When done with the right spirit, these things are liberating and useful. Men have a hard time throwing out their favorite easy chair because its familiar, comforting, and has always been there. We cherish antiques that bring meaning and their age only adds to their value to us. Yet there are some things that are just old and outdated. That avocado green couch from the 70's isn't cherished - it's trash, even though it's a perfectly good couch.

I know comparing my church experience with an old couch is extremely dangerous and fraught with opportunity for misunderstanding, but bear with me. When that couch becomes unattractive, we do two things. Our culture today throws it out and gets a new one. Many people have done that with church as well. I don't really want to go there. I think recovering is a better solution. If that old couch sits well, and is paid for, why not update it with a covering that is appealing? But what if it doesn't even sit well? What then?

Even this analogy falls short, for I don't really intend that our church should be recovered with an appealing exterior. What I long for is changed hearts - a renewal that comes from within. Changing the songs we sing and the style we sing them in does nothing for creating authentic worship. Authentic worship comes from the heart of the worshipper being transformed and open to God. Authentic worship can come from any song, any format, any audience - if that audience really wants to worship. And I guess that is why I'm feeling depressed. It's pretty easy to change worship styles or the songs we sing. It's pretty difficult to change our hearts, mine included. I guess that was what was so convicting about our class time Sunday morning. Here is the trailer for the NOOMA video we watched, called Sunday -

"Why do we do the things we do? Why do we go to church or give money away? Because we’re supposed to or because we think God needs it? Do we honestly put on our best clothes for an hour once a week, stand and sit at all the right times, and sing all the appropriate songs for God’s sake, or because it’ll make us look better to the world around us? We’re tired of all the empty rituals and routines. And so is God. God hates it when we call ourselves Christians but ignore all the things he really cares about. He hates it when we go through hollow religious routines out of some feeling of duty or obligation. God doesn’t want the meaningless rituals. God wants our hearts. "

That is our mission - to change hearts for God and the only way I know to do that is through authentic relationships with people as we experience life together. I love where we are - I love our church - I love what God is doing in our hearts as we learn what it means to be in community with Him and with those we live amongst. It's a journey full of peril and adventure and that is the point - we live in the midst of a journey. We hope to reach our destination. We long for it, we dream about it, we create it in our minds so we can continue moving that way. But living the reality of our destination isn't meant for the here and now - that comes when this life transistions to the next and all things are returned to how God intended them to be. And yet, we still work towards that goal while we are here. We don't wait patiently, we work furiously to bring a little bit of heaven here on earth.

Zoe Group?!?

OK - I'll admit it. I was a skeptic.

When we first heard about the ZOE Group Leadership and Worship Conference hosted by the Monterey church last weekend, I was interested in the attending the Friday leadership sessions about small groups, but not the worship conference. I eagerly signed myself and our other small group leader, Steve Gauntt, up in anticipation that we might learn something useful about how to continue our small group ministry at church. And, I wasn't disappointed. The tracks were helpful and I came away feeling good about what we are doing and the direction we are going.

Jill's folks were here for the weekend as well and they were all planning to attend the Saturday worship conference while I eagerly volunteered to keep Avery all day. I'm just not a big fan of acapella music and the thought of attending a whole conference on the subject kind of gave me the heebie jeebies. Anyway, after Jill had signed up, she got a call from one of our long lost college friends who happened to be one of the conference organizers. She had noticed I wasn't signed up and kindly suggested there might be a scholarship available for Avery and I to attend. Great, I thought (did you catch the sarcasm there?). My plan was ruined. I felt compelled to accept this generous gift and attend as a family.

I'm glad I did! The conference was far more than just acapella music stuff. There were some great worship times, Jeff Walling did an outstanding job speaking, and my favorite part was the breakout sessions. I was thrilled to discover there were classes for guys like me - classes that had nothing to do with praise teams, singing, music, or drama. Now - don't get me wrong here - I'm not a worship ogre. I greatly appreciate quality worship and the effort that is put into it. It's just not what I do well right now. I got excited to attend the sessions on Contemplative Prayer. Over the past few years I've been exposed to some of the more mystical forms of Christian discipline and practice through my readings in graduate school and through friends we've made during our international travels. Contemplative Prayer is an ancient practice that I really wanted to learn more about - and I did. We spent three sessions talking about the practice and then actually doing it. It was just what I needed! I was able to block out my hectic life and work responsibilities for the day and just focus on God. In the end, I guess that is really what "worship" is all about - focusing on God, in whatever form that might take.

Thinking Out Loud

Sometimes it helps to think out loud. I guess that is what this blogging thing is all about -people want other people to validate their thoughts, or at least hear their thoughts. They want the thoughts to be out of their head and real in the world. That sounds rather scary to me. I'm not quite so sure I want you to know what I think about, at least not all the time. But I have discovered in my short time around this planet that things seem so much more real when they are out in the open - out where others can hear them, see them, touch them, validate them.

We were out at Mother and Dad's place last week and for some reason, Mother drug out her huge 4" notebook that contains every single email I every sent home during our stay in Africa. I've known about the book for quite some time now, but hadn't bothered to look at it. The whole idea that every thought about Kenya I'd put on paper was kept in that book was a bit daunting. In fact, the reality that there was a permanent record of such things scared me a bit. But I got over it. I opened the book and casually read through some of the entries. It jogged my memory. I had flashbacks that took me back to the place or event I was describing - I could feel the muggy air, smell the body odor, see the shimmering ocean, touch the roughness of that mud hut wall. I was reminded of, and able to relive, the experience because it was written down. It was real - not a figment of my imagination, not something I thought existed but didn't. It actually happened and I can remember it, but only because I wrote it down.

Thinking out loud on a blog might be safe. Afterall, I'm not imposing my thoughts on anyone who doesn't want to know about them. If you are reading this, it is because you chose to. You have an interest in my thoughts and that is humbling. So, since you are here, you must not mind too much if I share. And maybe, just maybe, that will help us get to know one another just a little bit better.

It snowed AGAIN!

We had a blast making Avery's first snowgirltoday. It only snowed about 4", which was about 4-6" less than predicted. It did have a layer of ice in the middle, though. We all had a blast doing it, but there was a literal "blast" this afternoon and the beautiful pink cowboy hat blew away! Now the snowgirl has a weird looking round lump on her head that was packed into the hat to hold it on.

Last night after it started snowing, Avery kept opening the back door and getting handfuls of snow to eat. Only later did I look out the door to see footprints all over the backyard - footprints made by her little bare feet! So, we've discovered that Avery has a more multi-ethnic genetic make-up than we thought. She must be 1/3 Moudy, 1/3 Monkey and now 1/3 Eskimo!

Icy Chill

It's been a cold one here in Texas the past few days. I woke up yesterday morning to a temperature of 10 degrees. Windchill was around 0. It hasn't been that cold here in a long, long time. Along with the chill came ice. No snow, just solid sheets of ice everywhere you look. The streets and sidewalks look like an ice skating rink. (They walk and drive about as well!) Going to work yesterday morning, there were tracks across the medians about every 100 feet or so, all 30 miles. I witnessed a near head-on collision, many trucks jacknifed on the roads and lots of slip sliding away. One of the more humorous things was a truck parked on the up portion of an overpass. As we approached, we noticed his back wheels slowly turning in place - spinning just to keep him from sliding back down the hill because he sure wasn't going anywhere!

Avery enjoys the cold. She can't seem to keep socks on those little feet - even on our chilled wooden floor! Seems she inherited her daddy's temperature gauge and certainly not her mother's! (who is chilled when it drops below 90!)

The layers and layers of ice on everything are absolutely beautiful. I'm pretty sure my sister Robyn and my folks would disagree. The storm meant the closing of the airport, which meant the cancellation of the folk's trip to see said sister in Alabama. I've enjoyed the change and the landscape and trees in it are absolutely stunning. It reminds me of the majesty, and creativity, of God who is able to create such a magical, and temporary, masterpiece.