The Flesh is Willing but the Spirit Is Week?

If you are not saying wait a minute, you might re-read this passage from the ancients:

"The Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."

That is to say there is a lush green garden of life on the otherside of the dead desert of carnality, mediocrity, and materialism.

Often times my fears, pain, stress, and mostly shame smite me and keeps me looking downward, fearful of the light, I starve my spirit and only become more destitute, distraught, and alone.

Don't think that is just me or the "wayward". Sometimes the very centers of holy humanity can be guilty of godlessness and spiritual emptiness. I know because I have been there. Pastors, Leaders, and Ministry teams can be the blackest little holes of self loathing and deadness of anyone.

True spirituality is not measured in the size of the steeple.

God in deep passion for any us, finds novel, off the beaten path ways to reach us, to cut through the fog of disbelief, discouragement, and running. Yeah, you know what I mean. Sometimes I am on a dead run. Afraid to confront my fears, and terrified of what might happen if I do.

Sometimes I tread on the rice paper of tradition and ritual. Softly lest I leave a mark, I get in and get out, knowing that it only makes that inward hole deeper, blacker and more painful, but it can be a great placebo.

It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the Living God.

My wife shared with me the weight of her latest revelation: The Creator of the universe asks you to sign a blank contract with Him. No guarantees, no stipulations, no scoping or clauses. Just opt in for a life long question mark. (editor's note: Some might say the Bible is that contract, that plan, that handbook, and manual. I would propose that it just doesn't have all the answers. In fact, I think it it has more questions. It is more like the soundtrack, or similar reading, then a list of do and don'ts. It seems to be designed to bring us into relationship with a living creator, as opposed to an instructional precedent setting magna carta that defines the terms of our contract.)

Oooh, that can be rough.

He will be with you, love you passionately, and carry you when you cannot stand, but NO known plan, guidelines, itinerary, or general overview will be handed to you. Blank contract.

I was sharing with my children that Christianity is one of the few religions that has no barrier to entry. There are no requirements. Yes some try to add there own, what day you worship on, even church attendance at all for that matter, but ultimately, Jesus Christ (I tend to regard what he says since I believe him to he be leader of this faith.) said simply "believe".

That is just it; that seems too simple. It is unsavory for our sense of justice, we should have to work for it, burn, feel the heartache...bear the marks...carry the cross, feel the piercing to truly be like Christ. But that ain't happening. It would be blasphemy to think we could be the sacrifice for even our own sin. Even a little. Tiny winy smidgen. Even.

All you have to do is; sitting in your hummer watching your stocks rise, or kicked back in your trailer with a tallboy, is see the need for completion, and raise your hand and say "That Jesus..I do." Raise your soft pudgy hand or calloused palm and say with sincerity"Me." "I'll take it.", "I do."

That's it. Your in.

Scandalous isn't it.

A short dream story: Collision of Self

Pulling up in what appeared to be a combination small diesel truck and dune buggy the 20 something young man said "hop in I will take you to the end of the road.." seeing my perplexed face he chortled enthusiastically "I just bought it, it is awesome!"
"U.n ..no, but thanks for the offer" Stammering I replied guardedly. Some of us have boundaries I reasoned, besides on my way to work.
"Come on!" I want to see how she handles with a passenger" He said persuasively as he opened the door. I looked over the blue and white vehicle, spotting a bumper sticker from the radio station I worked at, and decided I would give a quick whirl. I need to be more trusting.

He gunned it from the gas station where he had stopped off, out town on a open but frequented desert road. I reached for the dash, feeling my heart swell into my stomach, and yelled "Slow down!" He laughed and continued to accelerate. A police cruiser passed us by, and quickly turned around after us. "I told you!" wondering what I had gotten myself into. As the cruiser sped to catch up, my new "friend" continued to accelerate. I did not know him, yet he seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe he was a friend of a friend, he acted as if he knew me. While he did not slow down we were approaching a "T" in the road and assumed he would pull off. He cackled loudly above the siren bearing down on us from behind. I looked at him and firmly and loudly said" You need to slow this thing down..now. We are going to be injured arrested or cause harm to someone else." He looked at me and grinning and replied "Amphibious." as we busted through the wooden guardrail, slammed and popped over the two foot cement curb, and plunged headlong into the Black Mountain reservoir.

Clutching the car, my heart racing, relief washed across me as we floated calmly down the shores edge. "There going to wait you out and catch you."
"Ahhh...I'll just say the throttle stuck." he arrogantly waddled his head. He was a large well muscled man with short blond hair and blue eyes. I was furious. I felt violated and abducted. I considered my impulse to grab him by the neck and ring it.
We drove from the water onto the boat launch under the steady watch of two police officers and a small contingent of city workers. As we pulled to a stop they handed both the driver and me documents with large fines and court summons.

I pleaded with the officer, "but I am just a passenger!"
"Sorry sir.." she deadpanned "..the plates list this as a combination recreational vehicle and in the state of Idaho, that means, that you are equally liable as a passenger for damages and guilty of several infractions." In perfectly bad timing and equally poorly delivered sincerity my new captor declared "Throttle stuck!" eliciting a groan from the small contingent of bystanders and officials alike. "Tell it to the judge" blank stare officer number two responded waving the tow truck off to impound with the strange dripping blue vehicle in tow.

"Unless you have any questions we will let you off on OR, provided you promise to make your court date, gentlemen.", the cackle of the shoulder mounted mic calling them off to yet another emergency. Everyone melted into a photoshop like blur as the impact of what happened focused my rage towards this irreverent cautionless abductor. I let loose yelling and standing him down "Who the hell do you think you are!" I screamed menacingly into his face. Being a good two or three inches taller he looked down with a smirk, seemingly un-intimidated by my violent threatening posture. "You enjoyed the ride as much as I did." he said in an almost southern Matthew McConaughey accent. Turning he walked away down a path lined by small newly planted trees that ran parallel to the reservoir. I turned after him, stilling myself of the notion to run full tilt and tackle him to the ground. Hearing me follow him he turned with clenched fists and clench jaw and said "You want a piece of this?!" I stopped. Perplexed by my quickness to violence and a new awareness of those around us and resignedly stated" I am pretty angry, but maybe I could see that as a moment of risky living that , though catching me off guard, was what I needed to be alive today." Surprising even myself, I said, tears welling in my eyes, "Thank you."

He looked at me blankly seemingly unstirred by my sincerity and emotions. "But I am not.." I continued "..paying for half of this, I will let the judge know that you abducted me." Swelling with rage and flaunching and strutting like a spoiled child he screamed "WHAT?!" his head rolled ghetto style and his large palms struck me hard in the chest, careening me backwards farther then I expected. My forty something year old legs barely staying under me. Looking back I saw the officers had left but a few city workers and passers by heard the commotion and were watching this brawl unfold. I considered walking away, taking the non-violent side, that is when I heard him say "This is about both of us!" and was blinded by a white flash as his fist snapped my body sideways and to the ground. I rolled and was up on my feet, my martial arts training and Welsh heritage taking over at the humiliation of being sucker punched, a knife hand whistled to the bridge of his upper lip clotheslining him and knocking him skyward, I was in control physically but righteous indignation soared through my adrenals as I pounced on his limp body with the intent to do him further harm... his cowering body melted into mine. He was me.

I awoke heart racing, anger and raw emotion a clot of comforter and pillow between my arms. Reeling, I puzzled over the dream, becoming aware that it was about one person and not two.

Esau Kessler

The 4 Words

AA 12 steps seem to have some redundancy. (Don't freak on me you avid AA'rs) Thus John Baker's program has boiled them down to 8 principles. In a flash of inspiration I have boiled them down to 4 easier to remember words:

Truth
Trust
Surrender
Care

• One must step out of denial, face the music, stop running, admit there is a problem and one must stay in that brutal predicament of truth.

• One must come to a point that they stop trusting their failed thought process (the one that gets you sick and keeps you there.) And start trusting God and others.

• One also must surrender to that universal purpose in their life, and stop writing their own script.

• And as a result of this life long process/pursuit start caring for themselves and others equally.

Ever lived a lie? Ever felt there was no one you could trust not even God or yourself? Ever felt like giving up? ever said "I don't care"?

Ponderance...

Alcoholism, has a big impact on others. As does drug addiction. Workaholism, eating and sexual addictions sometimes go under the radar, but they do just as much damage, but usually to the person themselves.

While many of the addictive patterns are the same, I would note substance abusers tend to be more aware of the outward struggle , while neurotics tend to be more inwardly aware.

Oh No Positive Thinking!

Sam Chan has good words to say about positive thinking. He reminds us that the bible instructs the weak to say 'I am strong'. If you are suffering from compulsive habits don't let it get you down. It proves you are human, and means you are alive. Try to focus on being 'strong' despite your weakness. What strengths do you have?

The Virtual God

Ahh I just completed my move back to Boise. It was a trial as I could not get a moving van out of Twin Falls for 5 days! But the 'eagle has landed'. It gave me some time to take my kids to the mountains. It also gave me 5 days away from internet, DVR, cable TV, cell phones, text messages, iPods, sattalite radio, books and magazines. Unwired. Made me consider the human aptitude for creating the virtual god. I feel compelled to check my email almost every day. But do I check God's inbox? He has faithfully provided at least one message for me every days since I started with Him for the last 24 years. I am not one who see's devotions as God's guilt trip relationship. He's not like that. It's about being in love with Him. Yeah discipline, structure, and order can be good, but it can be empty. Imagine telling your wife it is time for her 9:00pm kiss? God does not require a cold robot heart but one of flesh. We all need a natural authentic intimacy.

One thing I learned at last year at Vineyard fellowship was to look for God's daily revelation. If I don't look I miss it. It is there for every person in any situation, I know this to be true. Drudgereport, Foxnews, cannot provide it. Yes, I like the Laodocean Church am guilty of leaving my first love. I raise my hand in shame. I can lead a devotion group faithfully every Tuesday for a year and rely on the Spirit to empower me, I can work on a major national outreach program for the Kingdom, and I can model His love in my relationships with my wife, children, and friends. Yet be internally bankrupt,

as my lifestyle has been cashing checks my heart has not yet deposited.

Like many, when I am with God, I am good, do good, feel good. But when I am away there is a vacuum, healthy hobbies, interests and pursuits do not fill it. Unhealthy sinful behaviors only seem to make the chasm deeper and my solitude more desperate. But when the world is as it is and not as I would have it, He finds time to get me to stop, put down my hammer, and breathe. His Spirit softly reminds me of my youth when we danced on the crust of the earth together. Where our perfect love kept me from consuming fears. When miracles were not events, just what I expected from an all powerful Yahweh. How I was His and He was mine. Spiritual romance. Passion. I have learned that the surrendered life is the only one worth living. I a have learned through loss and an pain to accept the things I cannot change to change the things I can and look to God to help me know the difference. I have learned to "be" and not to "do" as a way of putting off my pains and losses. Relationships are no longer the terror they once were as I learn to know myself and be true. However, there is one relationship I need to improve; that is the one with my Father in Heaven, ('Howard' as Henry Winkler called him in 'Heroes'.), Today I will draw closer to Him by simply making myself available even if I have to "log off" to log on.

Support

I was talking to a friend earlier about loss, and someone yesterday about reaching out, and it occurred to me that often I think of helping others in terms of direct actions, or words. Yet so much of what the Lord Jesus gives me is simply His presence. Rescuing people doesn't often work; they either resent it or we resent them for not appreciating it enough. Since my experience tells me isolation is part of the despair that the wounded endure; I would posit this: to merely be present with someone in need can do a great good and cost so little. Cost? Why do I assume that the labors of love that are valuable must cost me great sacrifice? When Christ did a physics cut and paste on fishes and loaves, what did it cost him personally?

Sometimes we don't know how to reach out to a wounded soul. I propose the gift of time. Letting another know you are with them cannot remove the pain. But it means they are not alone in it. Time cost you nothing, but is of the most value.