Sports

Sand lot or pick up games were a big part of my life in my "formative years". You know, the manhole cover is home and Wayne Parkman's yard is foul territory (In more ways than one). Often shooting baskets late into the evening, I would often sink the winning shot to the delight of the thousands in my driveway. Each of us could be Qb, receiver, running back and linebacker in the same game (and often on the same play).
Imagination isn't all bad.

Today it's 40,000 people in need of exercise watching 22 guys in need of a break.

Oh, the shoulder is not what it used to be. Organized sports often leave more on the bench, than are given the chance to play. A sort of forced couch potato. I suppose I could play to those thousands once again. But carrying that extra person around my middle makes jump shots a thing of the past. So, I sit here and reminise.
The mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Playing the game was always the goal. Winning is cool. But it was always the chance that we could be victorious that kept me going. Play the game. Anything can happen. The way the ball bounces. Lapse in execution. "What a catch!" No harm, no foul. There should always be a victor. But if you play, you win.
Careful here. I might re-injure that shoulder.
No pain, no life.

Pain Trade

Fear of injury or death oftens informs our life choices. Think about it, if you could be assured no pain, of any kind. Would you still go bowling? Think about it. No gutter balls. Strikes across the board. What fun!

Oh, bowling isn't your gig. Well that changes Everything. How about telling your boss just what you think, knowing there would be no pain involved. Would you spill your guts? How about to your spouse?

What do you trade for avoiding pain?

Loser

Humility, the way Jesus describes it, was never something I wanted. I mean, let's face it, who wants to die a loser? A surrendered one? We say we are saved by the passion of Christ. (patior = to suffer reality) This more a model for an anti-hero instead of a real hero. No, I am more impressed by actio than patior. What about your lens? How do you read Jesus? How do you read your life?

Surrendering, letting go, trusting God. Enternal life, God's life is a pure gift. Hard to believe? Of course it is. Look at your own life. Making deals, counting on grace and mercy for the easy stuff.

Often denying our own belief system.

What do you believe?

Transformed life happens when we are alive.

Whose blood is on your door post?

What do you want to take with you?

Relative Good

"Weep not for me, but for yourselves and your children."

Political identity. Ego. Assertion. Father hunger. Some lives more worthy than others.

Exploiting the weak and helpless. Bask in prominent positions. Scholars. Of religion. Protection. tamed. View towards preservation. It will serve us well.

Idolatry of human life itself. Worring more about their dying than their living.

Life larger than death the goal.

Love of Control

Horsepower

Okay. I just got a bit of a blow just now. Thought I would share it with the class. Some share gum. I'll share something else that loses flavor after a few chews.

I am considering the Way of St. Aidan and was reading the 10 elements of the way of life. The first involves spending some time reading scripture each day. Not for knowledge. Rather for it to bleed into your cadence on this journey. I thought good. "What is church" is again rattling my soul these days. Friesen's blurb on the emerging (makes me want to purge) church caught my attention. He said something like, living-self organizing communities doing the perichoritic dance. Then the announcement of Benedict 16 and all the hopes of the catholic camps world wide resonating with God once again has sparked the church question once again. Besides Jackson's defense is having a field day... But I digress.

So, I pick up the Message and thought I would start with proverbs. But then I was lead to start with the end of Psalms. 147 sounds good. It's good to sing praise to the Lord. Been listening to Rush in Rio and that is some great praise music! I am think I am in the groove with God. He's healing the broken hearted. Yes, Lord. The world needs You. Then he says He is not impressed with horsepower. Shit! The size of my muscles means little to him. (What about my belly?) This horsepower praise time has been a part of my soul for longer than anything I know of. Man. Talking about kicking the rods out and oiling the track. Can we make a deal on this? I'll sing praises down the track. That way you can overlook the 1000 horsepower and listen to sweet praise instead.

Well, once again the Lord's sense of humor and timing make me feel welcome in His world.
May each of us live a grace filled life. Those that desire to follow Jesus into the world, may He spit on eyes that we may see; today.

Vacuum.

Days swagger in Time. Polemic theology. Minnesotian Missionaries Marketing in Mariner Fields. Guests will show us what is real. Answers come easy. Reality patient. Unmoved. Sometimes brutal. Often mis-understood. Always informative. Rarely acknowledged. Existential genocide. Postmodern genuflect.

Ironic goal of denial to the one they claim to follow. May we feel the wind. The breeze. Catch the drift. Ancients voice. Do you hear?

This is no vacuum. Field of dreams. Crossing Fields hiding in the open. Contemplative.

Absalom! Absalom!

Defending the Fort

One last bullet to defend the fort with. That other guy. Schiophrenia in reverse. Calvin and Hobbes. Fight Club. My Life. Oh, my locust life. Wanting to be unopposed. Lied to. Who else to follow? No fear?

What am I protecting?
Memory failing me. Or is it just being kind?

Gaps. Can't connect the dots. Can't even see the dots. Speed bumps waking me up. From slumber. Don't wake a sleeping dog. How about a snoring lion?

Don't tell a soul about my disorder. It's only a scratch. I know I am bleeding. On the inside. Nobody will see it. Nobody will know. Private life. Shadow in the dark. Ostrich burger some day?

Goal line stand. Won't score on me. We'll both be bloody in the process. Play be the rules. Martyr without a cause. Raging at unreachable glory.
Man, what a bind.

What am I supporting? Valor. Vows. Honor.

Surrender. Storms. Justice. Much to lose.

Love and truth

Hotel of Kings

Four US presidents dwelled here. Hollywood's glamour made more than a few splashes. Pink monument catching the days a slow good bye. Rumors of glory. Ghosts. Sophisicated. No details are known. Diamonds before swine. See the light? Extremes under one roof. Tension nurtured. Now stars of Cops inhabit these hallowed spaces. Still higher on the food chain than politicians. Just not elected. Just appointed. Fruit of greed. Fruit of life in the margins.

And the familes. Heros and naves. Single parents grateful for the roof. The walls. Discarded. Left for deterioration. The natural consequence. Misery. Struggling to survive. Roaches and rats want their share. Music in the streets. Deals going down. Crys of babies through the windows. Echo the victims. Bullet holes marking as scars on the walls. Tattoos of the life lived here.

Arms open wide for the present day kings.

Un natural

Is it just me? Flying way, way up there. AboVe the clouds. Going very fast. Everything reduced to ants and hills. Stuff in the overhead bin. Be careful when you open it because it may have shifted during the flight and it might fall out. No kidding. "It's spring and the ride has been bumpy the last few weeks" Really. Just keep reading your book like there is nothing going on. I'll sit here in silent desperation. Looking for a sign on the face of the flight attendent. Hoping this will not became a famous flight.

Up here there are no border markings. For me fairly raw. I hope the fairings are screwed in tight. I'll keep watch just in case. Leaving one location and arriving 2000 miles away in a few hours is surreal to me. I am amazed. I don't like it. Sure it saves alot of time. Now. The stress on me takes off years, I fear. Nice trade off. I'd much rather be on the ground.

You are free to move about the cabin. Peanuts?

Tribute

Not often enough do I encounter a man that makes me want to be a better man. I am talking about about a life lived faithfully. His friend said he heard the words of Christ "follow me" throughout his life. "Be not afraid" I somehow want to claim those for my life too. But His words have a little different hue. Just the same, to follow His voice, His eyes, and not be afraid is freshly compelling.
Lord help my unbelief.

Touch

Sometimes the barricades are for good reason. Opening up another way for your path. Boulders often is seen as mercy in the rear view mirror. It feels like all is lost. Including yourself. Alas! It's true. It's the way. A measure of make believe, tossed with naive notions willing to be innocent. Broadsided. Undone. Empty. Not for long. Out of sync with how things used to be. Out of sync with the brutal reality. Not noticing the gentle touch. The secret place in your heart opens many moons later. Revealing the soul of the living. A healing hand in the darkness. More alive than childhood dreams. Light hand on my shoulder. Whispers in the night. Cosmic chain. No weak links. Strength in weakness. Pain embracing love. Who is embracing me? Rhythms. Here comes the sun. Rain. Night. Dawn. Even in the good times bracing for the worst. Call it control. Call it survival. Just don't call it living.

Look at the lilies. Look at the bolder in the path. Look at the warrior. Look at the caged lion. Feel the gentle touch.

Of the wind.

Timing

Florida wants to free - up "the shoot now and ask questions later" law. Guess two weeks ago, it might not of passed.

Long live Terri's memory.

Right Life

Reading a few other folk's blogs, it seems that I am good company in the realm of the passing of Pope John Paul2. He seems to be in the hearts and souls of many. Admittedly, I did not pay too much attention to him when he was alive, but I feel compelled to be one of the many thousands to pay my last respects this week. What a life. Faith is so elusive. Yet he makes me want to be a better man. Surrender to God. Love. Forgiveness. Justice. Life. Tragedy. Heart-ache. Savvy. Humble. Bold.

Been listening to some debate on the death penalty. Pope against it. Our laws for it. You?

Struggling with justice, redemption, forgiveness and revenge. Rational has no place here. Only the words of Life. That seem like ghosts talking. That seem like hell to surrender to.

Christ, what have you done?

Faces

You know, death of a famous person has a way of humbling me. Pope John Paul 2 seemed to me to be an authentic lover of God. Being in power for so long, his influence upon the world, for God, was often lost to the headlines of the day. OJ. Jackson. Steriods. Jackson. Iraq. Jackson. You get the idea. But he did move, often boldly, into war torn parts of the world to speak for, to give voice to the poor. The outcasts. The marginalized. He seemed to relate well. Almost recieving strength from those he went to give hope. Maybe meeting Christ in the face of those outcast people. Ironic. Love incarnate.

Fools

Most days it is hard to believe. The new world is the same. Sun over head. Waves on the beach. Gas prices going up. Top Exec's going down. Cookin' the books I think they call it. Rush of days. Philosophic banter keeps you held at bay. Bloody fingers groping for the rose. Darkness your friend?
Fool's paradise. Addicted to the illusion of answers. Rational security; confidence. Will Christ find faith on the earth? Will I be a fool for Christ? Maybe the surrender to forgiveness is a threshold to crawl through.

Tattooed with stories of others, we are lost to ourself. Who are you?

Philosophy ends in wonder. Our survival depends on wonder. Who is the nemesis of your soul?

No fooling.