Beyond the Words

Remember playing on the merry-go-round at the park? We would always get a group of three or four of us together to spin it around. It's takes a bit to get up to speed, but once the momentum is going, it's hard to stop. At that point we would pull ourselves up onto the spinning circle of death and watch as the world became a blur. That about sums up my thoughts right now. Actually, that describes my thoughts much of the time.

I'm a project person. I'm a jump into the next exciting project before the last one is barely off the ground type of person. The projects quickly pile up and before I know it, I realize that I have overwhelmed myself again. At first I try to hold onto everything. Eventually, I realize I have to cut back. I reprioritize, try to figure out what is most important to me so that I can focus on just one or two (or three) projects. Patience is not one of my strengths--the process begins again and each time I find my priorities come out differently.

Which brings me to globalization / localization. Not sure how it connects, but I'm sure it does. I don't think we were designed to operate in a globalized context. Constantly connected to hundreds of people across the world, having all the knowledge of the world at your fingertips. It's overwhelming. It wouldn't be so bad except it tends to push out our local world. Instead of developing close friendships, we seek a platform to broadcast ourselves. There's only so much space in the world and we're filling it up with noise.

Silence is something we have forgotten. What if there were no words? No Facebook, no phones, no email, no blogs. What if the only way to communicate was through physical interaction? A helping hand. A shove. A fist. A hug. Shared silence. Just something to think about. Words have a place, but sometimes oftentimes we send them off full of nothing but hot air.

So, it seems a bit ironic that I would be blogging about all of this. This is one of my many projects, placed before the eyes of the world. Whether the words are empty or full or something in between is debatable. Even words that mean something can be as nothing when placed in the wrong context (as a cup of water is life to a thirsty man, but nothing when poured into the ocean of people).

Out of all my projects, this is the one that continues through everything. Why? Because there is no goal. There are no boundaries. I am simply free to be me. The Midrash Newsletter used to fulfill this role (it went on for eight years), but I've found the blog gives me more freedom. And if nobody reads it, that's ok. It's enough for the words to be. This is who I am.

I heard someone say once that "we humans are a universe to ourselves." When I look back at the things I have written on Chasing After The Ruach, I see that in just this small glimpse of myself. And then I realize just how little I know even my closest friends. I think figuring out who you are yourself gives you an appreciation for the sanctity and depth of life--and pushes me forward to come to know those lives outside of myself. To hear their stories, to see through their eyes, to identify with their struggles, to share their dreams. To know and be known--is this not what we all long for?

When you step back from the noise and see, really see, the beauty of a human soul, the creativity and handiwork of God in a human being--it is truly a humbling experience. And you realize that it's not about what they do or say or your attempts to change them. It is enough for them to be.

What We Were Created For

I stare out at the audience, an army of eyes eagerly waiting for my message. I look down at my notes, the words carefully chosen for impact. I lift my head to the camera waiting for the signal. Waiting to speak as no teacher has spoken before. Ready to change the world. And yet...something feels off.

The audience dissolves, the dream fades and I find myself staring at my computer screen. Five new emails. One catches my eye.

The first thing I notice is a picture that can best be described as the burning bush if it were at the birth of Narnia--flames of magical color shooting forth in harmony with the song of Aslan. At the same time the place seems both homely and forbidden. Like a sort of sacred ground. And I can't help but wonder if I were invited by mistake.

Then there were the words. Only three of them. "Less of me." There were many more words in this place, all of them beautifully inscribed. But it was those three that continued to echo around my mind.

Humility is one of those traits that seems to continually elude me. I know it in my head, but I also love to put on a show. The lights come on to reveal a scene beyond imagination. The music runs through my head continually, rising and dropping with the story's tension. Like a conductor, I raise my arms; like a director, I command this universe of my own. That's what I see.

In Judaism, humility is said to be filling the space you have been given--no more, no less. Everyone has been allotted space in this world; each person's space unique.

When I imagine teaching, something always feels off. When people compliment me for knowing my Bible, I get uncomfortable. Like I am occupying a space in which I do not belong. It's different with my stories. I don't know why or if will always be that way. Maybe because it seems like less of a responsibility than teaching. Maybe because it is more personal. I don't really know. But when I write a story, I feel like that is my place to be the director, to command the song.

I look back up at the stage. That is not my space. Not now.

I look back to the Narnian tree. In wisps of fire, I see a story untold. I see raw imagination ready to be crafted into words. And I can't help but wonder, is this where I belong?

Steady On

For those that don't know, I am (attempting) writing a novel. Right now, I'm in the first stages of revision--that long tedious process that (hopefully) takes a mess or words and turns them into something worth reading. It's slow going, but it's steady. I go through about 500-1000 words a day. Of course, this is only a first revision. Many novelists go through seven or eight drafts before they're ready.

As the work week draws to a close, I am looking forward to Shabbat. It's not a whole lot, but I am satisfied with what I accomplished this week. You know, the commandment says not only that you should rest on the seventh day, but to work the other six days. We are building a Kingdom after all.

I read through Nehemiah the other day (well, skimmed...there's a lot of names in that book). I think it's amazing how one ordinary guy had a dream to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem--and he did it. I see our work kinda like that. We are building up a community, a nation. Each of us has a different part to play. With Nehemiah, there were men building the different sections of the wall, guards to protect them from their enemies, priests to teach from the Torah. Together they worked, not just to build a wall, but to become a people again. To rediscover their identity and turn back to God so He could establish them in their own land.

Our roles vary from person to person and often they change through time as well. My question to you is What have you been doing to build the Kingdom this week? What work are you resting from this Sabbath? Leave a comment to share with the rest of us =)

Shabbat Shalom!

Still God's Grace (Piano)

I've finally got my digital piano connected to my computer so I can start recording some of my songs. I have here one of the earlier songs I wrote: Still God's Grace. It's a simple song about how no matter what tune our life follows, God's grace is always there in the background.

I put the words below. I can't sing myself, but I don't think figuring out how to put them together should be too hard--the words match the melody almost exactly. Hope you enjoy =)

Chorus:

Still God's Grace

Flows from His throne

Forgiveness to

the one's He loves

Just trust in Him

He will lead you home

It's a walk of faith

Just keep moving on

Verse 1:

Sitting at home

Walking along

Wherever I go

Singing my song

Working the field

Doing my chores

Day after day

Serving my Lord

Chorus

Verse 2:

Sitting with friends

Talking about

God's amazing

love for us

Hear the rain

See the grass grow

How much more does

God care for us

Chorus

Verse 3:

Temptation

Misdirection

Mistakes made

Idols raised

Why can't we

Get it straight

Follow with

All our heart

Hearts broken

Churches split

Families

Torn apart

Where are you

When we fall

Rescues us

Father, father

Chorus x2

How I Dream of Shabbat

Friday preparations--clean the house, balance the budget, prepare a meal large enough to last into sunday, set the table, prepare our hearts.

Light the candles to set apart the Shabbat. Open with kiddush and family blessings. Maybe have a guest for dinner. Leave the computers and cell phones off. Spend the evening as a family, eating together, playing together, studying together, talking together, worshiping together. Stare at the stars as they come out. This is our date with God. Music and dancing are encouraged.

Saturday morning sleep in a little (but not too much). Gather with other believers for food and fellowship. Pray. Listen to a short teaching. Midrash. Dance. Worship. Play games. Get lost in the Shabbat until night falls and the stars come out. Mark the end with Havdalah--the flame, the wine, and the spices.

Take the holiness of the Shabbat with us into the new week.

Another Free Write

Seems to be another one of those unbloggerly days. Er, weeks...month? I usually have so much to write about--what's up now?

Part of it's the holidays. I've been trying to avoid that discussion, but it's the one that keeps trying to pop up. Facebook actually looks tamer this year than it has in the past (or maybe it's just me). I haven't noticed as many anti-Christmas posts.

Then, I've also been busy. Was sick one weekend, visited home another weekend. Recovering from nanowrimo. Trying to get back into working on my story. Have I really been that busy though? I suppose part of it is simply that I've gotten out of the habit. After a month without blogging, you start to just forget about it.

So, where to from here? For the most part, for once, I actually feel like I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. As I watch my first novel take shape, I feel like I am fulfilling part of what I was made for. There are a few other things too that I've finally been able to do, that before I would only dream about. It's strange--when I see what I must do but don't do it, I feel an urge to talk about it and it makes me feel better. But when I do it, the need to talk goes away. It's almost like talking about doing good becomes an empty replacement for actually doing good. I hope I make sense.

Speaking of which, one area where I still feel I lack is in Sabbath. Having a job that requires me to work on Sabbath doesn't help--but still, I feel I could do more to honor the Sabbath day as holy. To find delight in the Sabbath. It almost feels like those days when we were first starting to keep the Sabbath. Remember those days? When it was work not to work? We're so used to constantly going, it's hard to slow down. It's so hard to slow down.

How can we learn to slow down?

Made For Dancing

Inspired by Mason Clover's song "Made for Dancing", one of Yeshua's parables, and a friend on crutches

There once was a king who was preparing for his son's wedding. So he went out to find guests to dance at the wedding feast. He sent letters to all the those who had trained in dance inviting them to his feast. He said, "Come dance before me, for my son is taking a bride." But on the day of the wedding no one showed up.

So the king went out and gathered all the lame, the blind, the deaf, the mute. He took men from the prisons and took slaves from their masters. He took the sick and the elderly and the young children. He took those who didn't know their right foot from their left foot. And he brought them all to the wedding feast and commanded them saying "Dance before me."

The people replied, "We would dance before you, but we are not able. The lame cannot stand, the blind know not the way, the deaf cannot hear the melody, the mute cannot sing. We are poor and sick and shackled by our infirmities. We cannot dance."

The king said again, "Dance before me, for my son is taking a bride today!"

The people cast down their heads for they could not please the king. Then the bride, clothed beautifully in white, came forth into the room. Joy overflowed through her smile. The children saw her and were capture by her joy. They got up and ran to dance with her. The lame stood up and danced. The mute sang. The downtrodden rejoiced.

The parents saw their children healed and the joy spread to them. The whole room erupted into dancing and singing. And when it was over, they realized that they too had been healed. They too had been made strong and given feet for dancing.

Every sickness and infirmity left those who rejoiced before the king. But those who refused to rejoice had their feet shackled so that they could not dance.

___________________________

Last year at camp when I first heard the song "Made for Dancing" I looked at my friend on crutches and realized how many there are out there that dance with their heart, but cannot dance with their feet. And I realized that one day all that will change. Every sickness will be healed--the lame will walk, the deaf will hear, the blind will see, and the mute will sing.

But there are also those who are whole who will not dance. Why did God give us feet? Why did He give us hands? Why did He give us breath? All Yahweh's children were made for dancing--to praise the Father with all our heart, all our talents, all our ability. God looks for the dance in our heart. He looks for a dance that is so strong that it begins to overflow out of us so that in every part of life we will praise Him--through our voices, through our dance, through our hands, through our instruments, through our creativity, through our work, through our play, through our friendships, through our family...everything.I sometimes see life as one big dance. We are all in the circle together--facing each other, facing our Father. We move together as one to the melody our King plays, but the dance comes from the heart. And though there are those who cannot dance physically yet...they can still praise Him with the abilities God has given them. Let everything that has breath praise Yahweh. Hallelujah!

I wrote the above about a year ago. Last night these thoughts took on new meaning as I learned about Cure. Cure is an organization dedicated to changing the lives of children with curable disabilities through surgery and sharing God’s love. They’ve been traveling around with the Air1 Club Awesome tour the past couple of days, raising money to help these children. As Brant Hansen said, thanks to Cure, children who once struggled to walk are now able to dance.

If you’re looking for someplace to give this holiday season, I would encourage you to check out cure.org. To me, what they are doing is what the Kingdom is all about—giving hope to those who have none. Finally, whether you celebrate Christmas or Chanukah or whatever, I say Rejoice, for our Light has come and He has overcome the darkness!