A Path For imagine Comes Into View.

I'm someone who experiences deep soul refreshment and lightness of being when I come into a clearing such as when walking through the woods and suddenly happening upon a meadow or a lake where the sun fills the space, and I can see across the expanse and well up to the sky. It's always been that way for me.

I grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico. One of my favorite short trips was to travel by car up the eastern slope of the Sandia Mountains to the Sandia Crest at the top (almost 11,000 feet) and gaze for miles to the west or north to Santa Fe, or south toward Socorro. I would feel a bright sensation of having my spirit open and feel fully alive, almost joyous; a kind of a soaring of the heart experience. I was in no way Christian yet, but such an experience would open me easily to a sense of the unseen, gracious REAL I now recognize as Jesus Christ.

For those of you who've been following along with my my last 4-5 posts, you might remember they've been about challenging chaos, moving toward hope, grace trumping stress, leaving Northampton, finding a new rhythm, etc. I've attempted to express what the changes and pressures in our lives have felt like as we journeyed with God through all of it. In my last post, I wrote of waiting. Well, it appears some of what we've been waiting for has arrived.

Last week, after our Sunday meeting time we had a bite to eat together. LT member Kevin Williams gave everyone the lowdown on changer which need to be made in order for imagine to sustain its life together.

First, and foremost, the high cost of having a space on Main Street in Northampton (even though our landlord offered to lower the rent by $350/month) was not doable for us anymore. We'd fallen behind in rent and understood it was not fair to him, or OK with God to keep the space and not be able to pay for it. As it is, we've worked a plan to pay him back over time. So our path forward means giving up our worship space, counseling offices, and the imagineART Gallery. For Tricia and I there is sadness in having to do so, but we're also very weary of the stress attached to falling and being behind. If you've not been there for any substantial length of time, you can't appreciate what that feels like and being our age doesn't make it easier.

(In later posts, I'll write more about what being in Northampton at all has meant to me. I will have much to emotionally and spiritually sort through. I promise I'll not be maudlin about it.)

After Kevin talked and made a clear case for leaving, we had a good discussion. People were in support of the move and we talked of how we wanted to continue a presence in Northampton by perhaps renting less costly spaces for worship or events we might offer in the future. The energy in the room was about continuing to be imagine and imagine in Northampton in some way. We also talked of meeting in our homes and deepening our community, including with the Smith students we've gotten to know and love.

At the same time, none of us want what used to be termed the "holy huddle"; the idea that everything is about our little community and we like it that way, thank you very much! We came here to walk the missional Kingdom way of being church. We've made some progress and had a modest impact in that regard, but we know we have a ways to go. We all want to continue heading down that path.

With the pending move, there are challenges for Tricia and I, one of which is (as I mentioned) we lose a centrally-located office for counseling. As of the end of September, the only office we have available is on the lower floor of where we're living in Shutesbury. While it should open access to folks in that part of Massachusetts where we're told there's a dearth of Christian counseling, we'll more than likely lose most of our clients from CT and south central MA where most of them have come, especially south central MA. There is a possibility of having an office in a church in Sunderland, or an office in Agawam, but the details have not been worked out. So unless God brings this part of the path into view we'll lose a substantial portion of our income.

Second, the way imagine will function as a church community is about to change - we think for the better. I won't say much about that in this post because I will flesh it out tomorrow at imagine worship, then blog about it. I can say we'll have a presence in Northampton, but not exclusively so. Our small band of believers will not call itself imagine/Northampton once we move from the office at 70 Main Street.

Lastly, those of us who came here in 2008-9 have learned there seem no tried-and-true formulas to doing what we've tried to do. Church planting is not plug and play. While any enterprise needs plans, values and structures to exist, a good bit of what we envisioned has not coalesced like we envisioned. There have been many surprises (not all of them negative by any means), disappointments (some excruciating), even desolating turns of events (especially regarding relationships). There've been some sorrowful days, but also many happy days because of wonderful new relationships (and some life-giving enduring relationships) with lovely people, and the continuing support of friends who've not given up on us. For instance, the imagineART Gallery wasn't on the radar screen when we sat dreaming, conceiving, praying about and dialoguing over in Simsbury what imagine would be and become. In my opinion, it's been the most effective means of connecting with folks here. We've met so many interesting and gracious people through that work. We've made real friends through it as well.

In reality we've stretched and grown because of necessity. Our faith has become enduring and more resilient (especially mine, never been a strong suit) because God held us near while he's put us to it. I cannot recall being tested this severely in my Christian life as I've been, particularly in 2014.

But gladly, tomorrow I will get up and talk to our small band of imagineers about how we'll regroup and work to continue the mission we were called to here. Yes, as I said, Tricia and I are sad about leaving this way, but our story is not finished, nor is imagine's.

Hope lingers. Grace abides.

Similar to standing on Sandia Crest and beholding the expanse of Albuquerque over to the West Mesa  I've experienced moments of the lightness of being I mentioned because a path appears to be slowly coming into view and I can see out of the struggle. It's not solidly so from one day to the next, but it lingers too.

More after tomorrow.
 

When Toasted is Where You've Arrived.

I wrote this a few weeks ago, but I don't feel the same way as I did. I'm not completely out of the woods though. My reason for writing was to describe what it felt like. It was an authentic portrayal of what was going on. I'm making changes and recovering. Just so you know. Also, my father-in-law died a few days after writing this as well. Being with family took the emotional focus off me. It helped.

 I'm sitting in one of the front bedrooms of my mother-in-law's lovely family summer house in Ventnor, New Jersey. We've spent many a summer vacation here. On vacation here we are again.

To be completely honest, I can't remember when I've needed a two-week summer vacation more than this one. In fact, I've gone along without a substantial vacation at all beyond a jam-packed week, a day here or a long weekend there. It's not been unusual for me to work extended strings of week's with no day-off whatsoever. The flow of my work has lent itself to such a pace as rule. Nobody but me is requiring it.

But what I've been experiencing feels different, and very uncomfortable.

I realized a few weeks back I'd headed into a spiritual, emotional, psychological, creative, mental and relational vacuum people euphemistically refer to as being toasted (I'm using the slang term in the sense that most of my internal circuits are fried, not in the sense I'm higher than a kite, or I'm going to die). Here's what it's felt like the last month or so:

1. I am tired, really spent on many levels.

2. I'm emotionally at my limit in terms of how much I can navigate people's (non-counseling related) stuff right now. I've never been there before to this degree. The reality is, I have fumes in the emotional IQ tank right now. At the worst, it has been traumatizing of late for me to be around painful people stuff. (What has been able to neutralize the negative effects some is the life I see in very talented imagineurians who are stepping to the plate and owning the work we share). Such a response is still living a dream for me.

3. I turned off my sense of humor; it's not safe to let it respond naturally; sometimes people get hurt when I do. I can't remember experiencing that before.

4. My creative juices seem congealed, so there is little insight or imagining taking place. It feels just not present.My left-brain is standing guard, so my right brain is quiet.

5. My mind has no savor for problem-solving or thinking through a difficult issue. In fact, it feels on autopilot, skimming the surface of what I perceive, never landing anywhere for a closer look.

6. Playing music for me is flat and uninspiring of late with the exception of practicing mechanics. In fact, my drumming is less creatively "playful" or adventurous than I'm capable.

7. I have meager patience, transactional flexibility, forbearance, and ""roll with the punches latitude giving" than is characteristic of me. My nerves jangle and over-fire unpleasantly way too much.

8. I find myself longing repeatedly to be away in the woods, sitting by a lake or the ocean, driving up north into Vermont, prayerwalking in the very early morning with Tricia, or standing atop a peak looking at a breathtaking vista.

9. I've noticed I'm more jazzed when reading about ministry innovation than ministering in the trenches day in and day out. I care, but I'm empty.

Just so you know,  having been seriously depressed at least once in my life, I recognize the difference between what I'm experiencing of late, and the "slough of despond."  I'm not depressed. I'm just toasted at every circuit because of being way overexposed and foolishly overextended. Prudent guarding and balance were necessary, but absent.

The frustrating reality for me is I let the toasting creep up. I didn't notice the warning signs of growing irritability, anxiety flashes, emotional numbness, and protective withdrawal. I'm a counselor and can name that stuff  in others quickly, but sadly be utterly oblivious to the subtle changes wrapping my heart. I deeply believe in what God has called us to do in Northampton and gave 110%. Neither imagine/Northampton nor the Kingdom mission God has given needs or requires my 110%. For my part, it needs me to be submitted to Christ, and wise about how much I can give and how often, so as to stay the course for as long as he has me involved. Prematurely flaming out and toasting is just foolish and sinful.

So getting to be away here in Ventnor with Tricia, Dan and Lindsay and their beautiful family (including new baby granddaughter, Piper Rose) and later in the week, daughters Eslie and Alyn, is a balm and a sanctuary. I'm nobody recognizable here. I just get to be a 63 year-old husband, father and grandfather: walking on the boardwalk, being at the beach, swimming, having great meals together, sitting on the front porch under the awnings; walking at sun-up and/or sunset with Tricia, playing with my full-of-life grandchildren, hanging out with my kids, riding bikes, napping, reading, eating ice cream, and doing nothing is what I need right now. Grace abounds!

I do want the missional and creative juices flowing again, but with more sensibility, releasing and wisdom. I let me get ahead of myself (and Jesus I suspect) way too often. I will seek balance and rest to make sure I don't put myself in the toaster again. I want a long race, not a 220 ending with a blown Achille's tendon..

And my more artistic self needs to stumble again upon startling beauty all around me, touch the smoothed edges of perfect symmetry; smell the fresh breezes of  life made living by the Life waiting with the door ajar and the light on; taste the richest flavors of unsullied goodness; and be stopped in my sorry tracks by the poetry of illimitable hope.

I'll get there, but in a different way I suspect, than I've yielded to up to now.

Just Checking In.

For those who've been reading my blog regularly, you've noticed I stopped for 5 or so weeks, perhaps beset by writer's block, or maybe abducted by mad fur traders wending their way north . . . something like that. 

Nope.

Truth be told, I've feeling a little blank and could think of nothing to write about which might be interesting to explore or had my mind captivated.  I've been a tad blah. You know, when the mental "whatever's" overrun you and they slowly snuff inspiration or insight. The words for writing stay put and the screen blank.

So rather than writing, I've been reading about musicianship, thinking about drumming and, well, drumming. I'm playing in this eclectic jazz trio with guitarist Jon Hill and bassist Jim LaMontagne. They're both imagineers (sometimes I also call imagine/Northampton people imaginistas, imaginarians or imaginati). We've been after the music since before Christmas and we're beginning to find our own voice. Soon, (when we have the cash), we'll go in the studio to record a demo, and use it book some gigs. Booking gigs will enable us to add our artistic voices to the Northampton's arts conversation. We've always wanted to connect with, and support this arts culture here. I still have to say that drumming since 15 years of age remains one of the prime ways I feel most alive on this planet.

Rather than writing, I've also been working at doing a job search. I'm lousy at it, always have been. But because these days are seriously lean financially for us, i.e., my work as a counselor has substantially dried up, I need to find other work, at least part-time. Given the missional mindset I've embraced, it makes a great deal of sense to get a job in the community and connect with folks who don't follow Jesus. So I plod forward with resume building, familiarizing myself with the work environment around these parts, and exploring where I might fit. To be embarrassingly honest,  my heart is not very much in it, but I know I must to get out there.

Rather than writing, I've been exercising and prayerwalking. I'm in a middling spiritual malaise, perhaps even mildly depressed with all the financial stress we've been under. Getting the blood flowing, taxing my body some, and clearing my head with prayer and supplication in the early morning has been a refreshing spiritual wellspring. My prayer has been fervent for us, imagine and Northampton, particularly a handful of people I know who do not follow Jesus . . . yet. Added blessing is the fact I'm losing some weight and strengthening, which lightens my mood. Prayer and push ups work to clear the fog.

Rather than writing, I'm still working into the missional way of life, continuing to read/study the best practitioners in the world on the subject. Such a way of life has become a passion for me. In turn, I've been pondering imagine's missional future and examining how we fit as it develops. There's bit of restlessness percolating in me as if the horizon hints something new, or another trail. I'm not sure, but it has that feel. I've been familiar with it all my life being a pioneer and a cultural explorer. Perhaps it will be a further development of our imagine/Northampton mission, or an extension of the mission elsewhere, a new way of being imagine, or something completely out of view now. Maybe it just means going strategically deeper into what we are doing in town. Time will tell as the Holy Spirit enables.

Don't read we want to leave or are losing interest. We would never just abandon imagine merely because we felt dissatisfied or wanted a change. We are committed true believers in what God has called us to do here.

All in all, it's been a weird summer with a curious mix of emotional undercurrents and tugs. There've been places of life and laughter intermingling with places of anxiety and fatiguing struggles in these weeks. I know I'll pass through it all intact and on my way to imagine's fall and winter. Hope tracks me down eventually and passion returns ready to roll forward. I've always liked that.

And, I might be writing about the Missio Dei, the Kingdom of God, communitas and incarnating the way of Jesus in our communities pretty soon. I think I still have words waiting to join the parade.

Season of Advent: THE SACRED PAUSE: WAITING

(This was written by my wife, Tricia)

When we look at the first two chapters of Luke we see the story of Jesus’ birth introducing us to people who are waiting: Zechariah and Elizabeth, Mary, Simeon and Anna.

In our culture, waiting is often seen as a waste of time. When we find ourselves in the experience of waiting our restlessness pushes us to want to do something, get going, or try to make something happen. We question “Why are we just sitting here waiting?”

Waiting can be for some of us an isolated desert experience. We tend to keep our attentions confused between where we want to go and where we really are. We are restless and preoccupied and often find ourselves trying to do something to get out of waiting.

What fuels this unwillingness to wait often is fear. When we are fearful we have a hard time waiting because when afraid we want to get away from where we are. Yet, what do we see in the beginning of Luke’s gospel? We see people who hear the words “do not be afraid. I have something good to say to you.” What is established is the truth that they are waiting for something new and good to happen. These are people who trust and count on the word of God. They are able to wait and be attentive and expectant in their waiting.

What is the nature and practice of waiting?  How does God want us to understand the importance of waiting?

LUKE 1:13, 31 “Zechariah…your wife Elizabeth is to bear you a son.” “Mary… Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son.” There is something happening here that is a key to understanding what waiting is all about. It is that they have received a promise that within them there is sense that something is at work. Waiting has to do with having what we are waiting for already begin in us.

We do not wait in a place that moves from nothing to nothing more. Rather, we move from something toward something more. In this place of waiting we see Zechariah, Mary and Elizabeth inspired to wait because of the seed of God’s promise planted in them. They are able to let this seed grow and nurture and feed them, to be birthed in them.                    

Waiting is not passive, but active. It often is seen as a hopeless state, but we see in scripture that waiting has to do with being alive and present to the moment at hand. The reality here is that something is happening where you are, and you want to be attentive to that moment. What is being birthed in you?

A waiting person is a patient person. The word patient means:  the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out in the realization that something hidden there will manifest itself to us.

An impatient person is always expecting the real thing to happen in some other place.

Mary and Elizabeth modeled what waiting is all about. They were able to pay attention, and be alert and patient in the waiting so they could hear the voice of the Lord. Even when they doubted at first, they waited to hear God's response.

Waiting is also where we need to give up control because it is often open-ended. We want definite, clear-cut, concrete answers. We cannot stay in the place of waiting because we get wrapped up in wishes instead of living in a place of hope. Wishes tend to have attached to them the need to control the future. We want to do the thing that will make the desired result take place. Our wishes also can be tied to our fears.

The difference with Mary, Elizabeth and Zechariah is they were not filled with wishes, but with HOPE.

Henry Nouwen describes hope this way: “Hope is trusting that something will be fulfilled, but fulfilled according to the promises and not according to our wishes.

Mary was in the place of open-ended waiting. Her words “I am the handmaiden of the lord … let what you have said to me be done,” are words that speak of trusting good things will happen even when we don’t know what it all means. Our waiting, like Mary’s, should be open to all possibilities. For when we listen carefully, we can trust in letting God define our life according to His Love for us and not according to our fears.

Henry Nouwen defines spiritual life as, “a life in which we wait, actively present to the moment, trusting that new things will happen to us, new things far beyond our own imagination, fantasy, or prediction.”                                                            

In this season, we are reminded to wait for the one who is our hope. Not based in positive or negative thinking or as a matter of chance, Jesus is our hope and our hope in Him is based on the God who will be with us at all times, in all places, whatever happens.

When we wait where Jesus is our hope, we are in an active movement of God leading us.Mary was in a posture of actively waiting for God to fulfill what He promised her. It was letting God be God and letting the Lord speak forth life into her waiting.

GOD LIGHTS THE WAY TO FOLLOW EVEN IN OUR WAITING AND SEARCHING.

Often we are unable to wait because we don’t know how God is showing us how to wait or where it will lead us, if we do manage to wait.

Truth be told, the Christmas star is an invitation to each of us to follow, a calling forth from God to go where He is. The star is God’s finger pointing to where we can find Him. The star points to Jesus, Jesus points to who and what God is; we can find Him in the midst of our searching and our waiting.

God is asking us to live in the movement of God leading us as we follow the star put before us. We are waiting for what is to come, but engaged in God leading, guiding us. We wait, listening to Him who is there with us in the waiting. Our waiting becomes more familiar and still, and we realize that who we are waiting for is with us, here to speak to us in the middle of the waiting into the silence of our hearts.

The star is the symbol to follow the light in the places of darkness. We may not know where, or how, or which way to go in the darkness, but the finger of God is pointing the way for us to follow.

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 Reflect on the questions below. Listen for his response to you:

1. Lord, how do you want to best prepare my heart in this time of waiting?

2. Father, how do you want me to follow your light that points the way you set before me?

When Mental Toughness Requires An Unexpected Change of Course.

"Mental toughness is many things and rather difficult to explain. Its qualities are sacrifice and self-denial. Also, most importantly, it is combined with a perfectly disciplined will that refuses to give in. It's a state of mind-you could call it character in action." Vince Lombardi

³More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, ⁴and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, ⁵and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
Romans 5:3-5 ESV

I've been fighting a funk the last 10 days of so. It's not a P-Funk kinda funk that causes your booty to shake; it's a funk that smothers your heart and pulls your thoughts into a thick, enervating fog. Your heart grows tired and your mind feels like the batteries need to be replaced so the light can come back on. It's stultifying to say the least.

My afflicting funk stems from the persisting and deepening financial drought we are settling into. It's feels like a fog which won't lift; it blankets our days and laces fear in our sleep. A palpable heaviness pervades it. We both talk of existential (although we don't use the word), tiredness. I know the weariness is from growing stress. Those of you who've been there know unpayed bills tend to stare at you with a withering gaze. It's no fun.

The long and the short of it is I'm just not making enough money to hold up my end of the bargain with supporting our household. imagine/Northampton is so small it can't carry my weight nor am I counseling
anywhere near enough to support  my salary.

In the midst of the work malaise I'm beginning to think God is signaling a change in my direction. It began with reading missional church guys talking about the bi-vocational pastor being the wave of the future. Much of what they write makes good sense to me. Is God calling me to this? What would be so bad about that?

As I said, my counseling and spiritual direction work has virtually dried up with just a handful of clients remaining. Tricia's is growing. The decline has been trending this way since the early summer of this year. Something has changed. I can feel it spiritually and the numbers show it. There looks no end in sight and I'm running out of time to turn things around.
What does this have to do with mental toughness?

Well, I think in my case, mental toughness, is being able to keep the mission I was called to in Northampton in firm view with no wavering while seeing the change I need to make in terms of remaining full-time paid staff as falling forward. In fact, it turns out to be part of God's taking me deeper into the mission in a way I never would have found on my own. In the quote above, Vince Lombardi combined sacrifice and self-denial with a "perfectly disciplined will that refuses to give up" I doubt I'll ever be capable of a perfectly disciplined will," this side of heaven, but I get the refusing-to-give-up character part because I'm doing that so far. I'm not quitting imagine until God tells me to.

 The Apostle Paul tells me that mental toughness has to do with enduring suffering and hardship so that godly character qualities take root in me, and hope can keep me stayed on following Christ while working to open the Kingdom to folks - hope infused with God's love.

So God can:
test my mettle,
put me in over my head,
take me to the edge of my faith,
remove all my safety nets,
and even change where I work,

to strengthen my character, making it tough enough to carry the weight of my task in imagine /Northampton's mission.

Mental toughness can also be about staying the course when God expands the scope of the mission he has given without consulting with me (as if he should!). For instance, rather than having me hold down the fort every day at the imagine/Northampton offices, or being the "Chief Communications Officer," a role I've played by temperament and default since we got up here, he gives me a job elsewhere and maybe it doesn't look like ministry at all on the surface, or maybe its in a form I didn't recognize before and would've never headed toward on my own. Just because my work environment changes doesn't mean the mission has.

More simply, mental toughness also means buckling down and helping dig us out of our financial hole even if my imagine/Northampton role diminishes considerably or has to end. I made a prior promise to Tricia to care of her that is of equal or greater worth. Integrity as a Jesus-follower includes meeting my financial obligations and doing what I have to even if it's painful. It's big-boy stuff.

Mental toughness never lets go of the cause or mission, or the non-negotiable values animating any effort of worth. The goal or cause is so compelling a person will pay the cost, fight through the pain, make the sacrifice, overcome the discouragement and hang tough when all appears in shambles. Mental toughness is the domain of those willing to go down with the ship if the ship must go down. I believe it's a virtue which ennobles ordinary people captivated by conviction.

Truth be told, it's taken me a awhile to get to the place of altering my short course to sustain the long haul. There've been "giants in the land," and I've hesitated to adjust my course far too long.  Adjusting I'll be in the days ahead. Pray for me if you think about it. I'll be heading out as a "stranger in a strange land." At least it feels that way at the outset.

Lately, I Have Been Wondering "Where is There?"

Any church planter worth his or her salt is a visionary, has a visionary on his team, or has done considerable thinking (and praying mind you), about the vision God has summoned her to in planting a church.

Vision points like a hunting dog to something not yet in existence. It peers into the future and there is a discernible horizon to head toward. It perhaps is just in the form of an idea or a dream or a picture, but it is out there beckoning.

In other words, there is a "there" up ahead, a destination, an of some sort. This vision is the enticing suggestion of what people refer to in church planting circles as "God's preferred future."

The particular there one sees and desires to pursue defines and focuses where here needs to aim. It is compelling potential needing to be realized. It requires passion, creativity, courage and strategic savvy. It doesn't yet exist, but, boy, it should.

Imagine/Northampton began as such a vision, a there if you will. Simsbury was a long way from Northampton. Today, we are here and imagine/Northampton is here . . . sorta.

You see the imagine/Northampton of today doesn't match the vision yet. Because of all the adversity we have faced since we arrived in these parts, the vision sometimes dims like a fading rainbow. We have had to pull back, pare down and regroup more than once. Rather than heading steadily toward there, it feels these days more like we are mostly keeping our heads above water and gasping for air. All manner of resistance and obstruction show up frequently. Apparently, we have been noticed by occupying intruders.

So, lately I've had to wonder just "where is there?" I'm not saying we've lost or abandoned the vision we were given. Not in the least; it's still welcome in our hearts. I am saying there has been very hard to hold in view because we are frequently overcoming illnesses/injuries, putting out brush-fires, trudging through relentless distractions, enduring scary financial pressures galore, negotiating a fierce mental battle, and trying to keep on our spiritual feet when we get pushed over. Perhaps the most trying of the challenges we face is we don't have all the people needed in very strategic roles to gather a true head of steam. They're just not here. Some are on the horizon, but not yet here.

For me, the question "where is there?" illustrates the unpleasant sensation of the vision fading in and out, and remaining presently well beyond our reach. There seems no closer than when we first got here. It feels unreal sometimes, and yet when I come to my senses, it pulses inside me with a longing which confirms the rightness of pursuing this vision until it becomes flesh and blood reality.

I think it is good to wonder "where is there?" It keeps me looking for the way through and the way forward. It keeps me dialoguing with God and raising questions with the team. I guess if I stopped asking, I wouldn't be much of a church planter.

I am going keep asking, you know. I will keep trying to find our way. I will stay on the search until imagine/Northampton incarnates what it's summoned to do in Northampton, at least on my watch.

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I suppose some of you have a there in your life these days whether you are a church planter or not. Maybe it's not a vision. maybe it's a tough problem you desperately need resolving. You have more questions, than answers. You are frustrated, bewildered, maybe even angry or sad about it all. There is no end in sight.

To you I say: take a breath and regroup like you mean it. Make enough time to smell the roses and get some fresh air. Laugh with a few friends who get it. Have a grog. Learn to play the drums (a noble enterprise for anyone).

Help someone who could use a hand. Take a nap. Never overlook the goofy or the silly; they are there to help you laugh. Laughing is a gift. It releases endorphins.

When your head is clearing and the dissonance has stopped, climb back in the saddle, get your bearings and head back to the trail. Keep your eye out for God. He has the way forward and he just might lead you to the there which means so much to you.

Oh, and don't stop wondering . . .  it keeps you in the search. 

Geezers and the Wings of Eagles.

Been thinking much about resilience (the ability to rebound, spring back, recover) these days.

Remember, I am an old man planting a church (imagine/Northampton). As some of you know, I have taken fondly to referring to myself as a geezer, a slang term for someone who is not only ambling toward decrepitude, but also is a bit of an odd character. I have noticed some oddness (although not full-bore eccentricity just yet), and I like it, actually. Also, I think the term is used most aptly of men. I think 60 is the threshold to the Land the Geezerdom. I know I passed through the gates a few miles back.

Anyway . . .

I find my "geezerliness," especially in the light of the 60 (almost 61 in April), years I have accumulated, plays a frequent role in launching imagine. As I face the relentless and sometimes bewildering challenges of  developing this mission in Northampton, I experience the troubling presence of weakness, and inability:

1. I am physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually tired more quickly; they lingers longer than when I was a young, even middle-aged man. Recovering takes more time (and humbling patience, grrrr).

2. My ADD seems more prevalent in that it is both harder to not wander in distraction and stay focused on stuff needing disciplined effort. A baffling fog can settle in from encountering too many options and choices. Rebounding firmly into order is less easy to do.

3. Because there are so many details to put in place and stay on top of most of the time, I struggle more with keeping them organized from day to day. Springing back from chaos becomes just harder to do.

4. As I have rewritten previously, the spiritual warfare here is unrelenting. Coming in forms of resistance, obstruction (like swimming in peanut butter), and the constant invitation to discouragement, it can grind down a geezer. Rebounding from persisting adversity is not always simple at any age, much less at 60.

5. Just coming to terms with the reality and vicissitudes of aging itself, never mind launching a church in the process, can be daunting because mortality has a greater presence.

In the face of all this,however, I realize resilience is both an act of the will, and a gift of grace, igniting and sustaining resilience. I have to choose the way of resilience every day, but choosing only becomes efficacious as God grants the ability as well. Grace makes a way and points to the means.

Still, I will have to be resilient in the face of my diminishment speeding up inexorably over the days. I run smack dab into the human condition and must work within its bounds. No getting around it. Truth be told, God makes me able beyond my ability to do this . . . if I surrender and pay attention to the whisperings of his help. I live every day in the reality that I am an old man planting a church, but in this last 220 my life's journey. God has summoned me to do this now in my sixth decade.

So I am a geezer learning a different quality of resilience. I need more of God's help in it, because I am diminishing more noticeably than in my young years. Bouncing back has become more of a spiritual enterprise. Sure, I need physical rest for mind and body, Sabbath, and oases of quiet to take my hands off the work. But what I need more are spiritual oases of unhurried prayer, silent reflection, deep thinking and sitting in the Scripture. It is in those places that I am bouyed on wings of eagles.

I want to make that flight more often.

Give Recognition to Such Men: Gifts of Refreshing in the Buckling Over Times.

I rejoice at the coming of Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus, because they have made up for your absence, for they refreshed my spirit as well as yours. Give recognition to such men.
1Corinthians 16:17-8

Yesterday I had two wonderful "hang in there's" from God. One was expected (not the refreshing, but the meeting), the other was a surprise. I desperately needed both. I was weighed down after a weary Christmas, and sorely needed refreshing.

The first one came in the morning as I met with an old friend and Board member. He is a man of wisdom, a Jesus-follower with great integrity and godly influence. He is a Barnabas to me. Over breakfast, we talked of the many rigors and frustrations of church planting in New England, battling discouragement and financial pressure, dealing with meager returns despite great effort, and the need for discernment in the face of great challenge. His willingness to listen in support, and offer generous words of refreshing lifted my spirit. He made a difference.

Later in the afternoon as I was at my office working, I received a surprise call from another old friend and Church Planter. He was in the parking lot and had come to Northampton on an unrelated errand. He thought maybe we could catch up for a minute or two. He is a bona fide Jesus-follower, and another man of full of wisdom and grace. He has been an encourager and counselor to me from the beginning. We also talked of many things around what it is like to plant churches in New England. In the process, he refreshed me with gracious insight, laced with his signature wit. When he left I was lifted further.

Men such as these brothers (women too, of course), are inestimable gifts sent by God at such times of desolation and spiritual fatigue. They are like ministering angels, responding to a prompt from God to bring refreshment. In their presence it feels as if God is saying, " I know what you are bearing up under. I know your shoulders are bent, your knees hurt, and your back is weary. But take heart. You are in the company of friends who love you. And I love you. Don't give in or turn back. It is but a little while until I will bless you for trusting me and making the sacrifice to bring the Kingdom to a people wandering in darkness and death."

I so needed what they gave and God gave through me them.

Thanks guys. Thank you, Jesus.

May you receive such unexpected refreshing in your times of buckling over, even this day.

When Discouragement Comes Calling

Someone very recently said to me that if I am feeling discouraged almost daily it is a true sign I am a church planter. His words, coming from someone who successfully planted one, were a great encouragement to me. I felt less alarmed and guilty about feeling discouraged in the often crazy-quilt experience of this work-the ups and down can come fast and furious more often than I like.

I realized that a big part my struggle with discouragement comes from expectations I place on myself and what I think others are placing on me, however innocently. When they ask with good intentions, "So how is the church going?" After I sheepishly tell them where we are in the mission, what I hear in my head is, "Really, that's all the further along you are? Um, what's wrong with you? Maybe you shouldn't even be doing this? In fact, maybe this was a fool's errand in the first place. What were you thinking . . . someone like you?" I want to slink into a hole and put out a sign saying "I am so sorry-really I am." Crazy, I know, but discouragement shows up quickly to reinforce the questions, and if I listen to what I am feeling at that moment, I get bushwhacked.

A part of me, truth be told, when I hear the progress and fruit of other planters wonders why we are not making "better" progress. I know we are under-resourced which creates a constant uphill battle. I realize we are learning how to do this as we go. It is true we are working in a tough place where obstacles are formidable. There are tangible reasons to work through. The problem is discouragement often blows past those reasons and wants to lure us into hopelessness. If it can gain a strong foothold we are effectively neutralized and rendered impotent for the task.

I have to admit, sometimes I get near the threshhold of hopelessness. I can see its dark ruins staining the distance and get a whiff of the death it represents. Not good.

But not the end of the story either.

Eventually, the Holy Spirit leans in and reminds me I am being fitted for a depth of trust and faith I have never experienced. I have been fitted similarly for the ministries God has invited us to shoulder, but not anywhere near this level. There is a very real "Will you believe and trust anyway even if things get bleak or the struggle never abates? Will you?" pervading each day in Northampton. God offers steel-jawed tenacity in this struggle, big-league faith and perseverance. Oddly enough, discouragement is necessary to achieve this degree of faithfulness. I don't like that to be honest, but I know it's necessary, even desirable (even if we fail ultimately in launching imagine/Northampton in the process, by the way).

I know discouragement will continue to come from time to time. It may even knock me off my feet once or twice. No matter, I want to know the depth of faith and trust God beckons me toward. Right now trying to launch imagine/Northampton is his vehicle for creating it in me. I am going to lose some days and I am going to break through into new territory some days. My hope is that imagine/Northampton will be planted and I will lay hold ofwhat God has been working to teach me.

The right perspective in this struggle I suspect is that in all of it, God is fitting me for the "weight of glory." The endgame defines and focuses my struggle toward eternity.

I like that.

Back to the Drummer in the Tollbooth

Since I last saw my comrade in sticks manning a tollbooth on the Mass Pike a few weeks ago I have not been able to forget him. I keep thinking about his tenacity. He sits for a number of hours handing out tickets which means that during certain periods of his shift he is interrupted constantly by people needing one, and yet, he keeps practicing in the lulls. Drumming is his larger purpose. Staying fit for the art, no matter. Hmmm.

So I have also been thinking about this old man planting a church. How does he (I) stay fit so as to be tenacious in a difficult mission? My interruptions, obstacles and flitterings are many. What does this drummer have to teach me?

First, I think it means never taking my eye off the goal to which I have dedicated myself. "Dedicated" is an important word here. I have decided to give my best to this Kingdom mission, whatever it takes. The goal of planting imagine/northampton is one to which I am dedicating precious years and resources. I must not lose sight of it when the going gets tough, the fear is substantial and discouragement comes for an unwelcome visit. No room for faltering if I am dedicated. My eye must stay fixed on where God is bidding me.

For imagine/northampton to take root, my dedication needs to be fierce and tough. Planting churches is not for the faint of heart or the lightly committed. I am learning such dedication. God help me!

Secondly, I must remain flexible in how I maintain the necessary fitness required. More often than not it will not be convenient to maintain the disciplines and activities best suited to keeping me on course: prayer, routine administration, damage control, making new relationships, studying, searching, listening, writing, ministering, creating concepts, etc. I will have to find my own "tollbooths" to keep "practicing." Sometimes the most unlikely places and situations will be my only option to keep after what is needed. Being flexible opens me to opportunity I would likely overlook because I only saw an obstacle or setback.

Planting imagine/northampton requires I learn a freedom of flexibility uncommon to me. I am not rigid, but God still has work to do in "loosening" me for the mission. I want him to complete this in me. God help me!

Thirdly, I must let my love for God, people, and his glorious Kingdom fuel the drive to stay fit and ready to act regardless. Love sheds self-absorption, laziness and cowardice. Love motivates courage and invention. Love says "yes" when I'd rather say "no, not now." Love gets my butt in the chair, or my feet on the street to engage and work rather than wander in the garden of lesser delights. Love gathers passion toward worthy pursuits. Love also keeps my eye toward eternity and what is needful to be ready for it.

For imagine/northampton to take root I will need such depth of love. All of us on the team will. I want to be that loving. God help me!

Lastly, the drummer in the tollbooth reminded me that a "long obedience in the same direction," should be the prime directive of my heart and will. A will fixed on obeying God gets the job done no matter. I know grace is necessary in all of it, but I can choose to give my will to a myriad of glittering things. A will fixed on obeying what God desires opens the way for serving what matters most. When obeying is proven over a long time, God's Kingdom reign is planted in my life and the lives of others he gives me to serve.

Being made fit to plant imagine/northampton needs me obeying God consistently for days turning into months and flowing into years. I have a long way still to go with this level of obedience I'm afraid. But I desire it. God help me!