Doorkeeper

I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than dwell in the tents of wickedness. -- Psalm 84:10b

I've always wanted to be a world changer, to do something great for God. Anything less seems like a waste of time and energy.

When I was younger I went on several mission trips with dreams of becoming a missionary. Not a single salvation can be attributed to my presence there. Holding on to thoughts of helping the less fortunate, I thought about pursuing a career as a doctor. I had plans to take some classes in this field at the local vo-tech. However, I didn't meet the age requirement and was diverted to an engineering class (looking back, I'm pretty sure it was for the best).

I've gone on reading books about radical Christianity, wondering why can't we just give our all and do great things for God right here in our towns. Seems like there is just so much we could do if we just were not afraid / not selfish / more compassionate / [insert missing component here]. There's always something holding me back it seems. And so, I live in a constant state of failure.

____________________
"Better a doorkeeper..."

Last year, this phrase started playing over and over in my mind. I'm not sure why. Perhaps God was trying to tell me something. Every once in a while the words will come back: "Remember...better a doorkeeper..." These words would come to mean so much to me.

____________________
"I'm willing to serve, but on my terms."

Coming to Norman, I had my own ideas of how I would serve God. I was going to start community, get involved in church, help the less fortunate, start my writing career. These were my plans. A year later, there is no community and my church attendance is erratic at best. I did find a food pantry to help at occasionally, but none of this was how I dreamed. I still feel like I'm sitting here idling.

I wanted to change the world from my little apartment. Or at least my town. Or even just the apartment complex. Seems I can't even get to know my neighbor. My plans had fallen flat. When you get right down to it, I was trying to impress God. "Look, God, at how much I can do for you!" When we seek to impress or call out for attention, we forget who God made us to be.

____________________
"If I cannot step outside these four walls to be a blessing to people, then I will be a blessing to others from within these four walls."

I wrote the words above as I struggled with the failure of my plans. The truth is I'm not an outgoing person. I am more comfortable typing than talking. That's how God made me. It is not for me to rebel and say "Why didn't you make me like him or her. Why didn't you make me so that I could do this or that." God has given me talents--I can choose to use them or bury them as I despair over my failure to do things I was never meant to do. I can scold myself for not walking up and talking to a stranger or I can use my energy to write a note to a friend.

The problem is my pride. I want to do something that I see as great, that will earn a name for me or make me feel fulfilled, like I've done something that really mattered. And so, "Great" becomes the goal. A doorkeeper isn't good enough.

____________________
"Some days the only thing that keeps me going is knowing that I have made a difference in somebody's life."

This is the one thing I keep coming back to. I may have made a failure out of all my projects, all my schemes of greatness. But I know that I have made a difference in somebody's life. And for that it is all worth it.

That's what it means to be a doorkeeper. To live without worry of how you measure up to the standard, of how "great" your deeds will be, of how you will measure up to other believers--but simply be light. I would rather make a difference in one person's life than speak to thousands who simply nod and applaud.

Whatever you have to offer, however insignificant it may seem--give that. Don't try to give what you don't have or to be someone else. Just do what you can, day by day. Let go of pride. Be the least. Be a doorkeeper.

Writer's Bane (or "Not Writing")

Here I sit at my desk, surfing Facebook while cooking stir-fry and doing laundry. And writing. Well, writing about not writing. I have an email starred in my inbox labeled "How to write whether you feel like it or not." I read it once, then marked it as something to come back to later...that was about a month ago.

If you look online you'll find the majority of articles on writing are about overcoming the myth of "writer's block" (aka procrastination), each of them claiming to hold the secret to jump starting your writing career (each one written in the same self-help format that I rarely find helpful). Of course, in the end they all come back to the same fool-proof principle: Just write. So that is what I am doing. Writing about not writing.

Sometimes I write because I have to. Because it is the only thing that will keep my mind from descending into insanity. Some of my better blog posts have come out of these journaling sessions. But sometimes I write because I have a story to share. Those are the hard kind to write. They take time, lots of time, to get them just right. And writing them is a lonely endeavor.

And then there's the fact that I'm still figuring out my writing process (writing a story is not quite as linear as you would expect).

If only I could convince myself to write short stories (something more fit to my level of patience). But, no. I want write novels. And not just one novel--a whole series of them. Maybe even a series of series. A trilogy here, a heptalogy there...

How is it that last year I was able to write a novella in a month and now I can't seem to write anything? Last year I wrote during NaNoWriMo. There were deadlines. There was community. There was craziness and I was out of my mind (and the dishes piled up).

And, so, instead of writing, I am "not writing." I could go on, but I will end lest my "not writing" become excessively long, and you become excessively bored and never read anything I write (or don't write) ever again for fear of boredom.

The Page That Divides Us

Over the last few weeks, I've been involved in a few discussions regarding Messiah and his identity. Conversations where the veracity of the New Testament and the role of Yeshua have come under question. It doesn't take much for these kinds of conversations to turn sour. Heaven and Hell seemingly hang in the balance; one is called an idolater, the other accused of denying the Son of God.

To dismiss the question would be to ignore the Sovereignty of our One God. If God had a son, would He not take issue with those spoke against his son? On the other hand, would God tolerate us giving our worship to an impostor? Someone is right and someone is wrong, the question is not easy and the ramifications are not simple. And yet, we should all be wary lest we turn against our brother with hatred and deny the character of God in our hearts and our speech. We tread on thin ice. No wonder our culture has signed an unwritten agreement of silence. But we cannot be silent.

Too often we relegate God to the background in our discussions. We do this in different ways. Sometimes we use Him as a symbol for all that is good and moral. As love takes the place of God, our Father becomes nothing more than a metaphor to hold us together, and the differences are smoothed over as irrelevant. Sometimes we run out ahead in our zeal for truth. We take it up as our divine duty to uphold the truth against all who would dare deny it. Truth becomes our Master and the will of our Father is forgotten. God is Love. God is Truth. God is NOT an abstract idea.

He is our Father and our King.
We are His children--brothers and sisters trying our best to serve One God.

___________________________________

I want to tell you about this friend I have. He's a pretty cool guy, loves to dance. He cares about this earth and extends kindness to everyone he meets, but a bully he will not tolerate. He saved my life once. Those who have never met my friend claim he is imaginary--like santa, either a harmless fairy tale or dangerous lie. But I have met him and he is real. You might think he would be angry that there are people who would deny his very existence. He hasn't spoken to me too much on this issue except for this: whoever is a friend to me is a friend to him.

This illustration is probably overly simplified, to be sure. The point is that we are not simply arguing about ideas and theologies--we're talking about a person. My Dad has said that a person who denies Yeshua has never truly met Him. It seems so absolute and so irrational--it grates our logical culture of tolerance. And yet, if He truly sits in heaven speaking on our behalf, no less can be true. We can question, challenge, and midrash all we want (and we should), but in the end each one of us has his own unique relationship with the Creator.