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i think, if we’re honest with ourselves, we would say we were each left with questions. we would nod our heads and agree that we could each remember a time when those who came before us, who were supposed to build us up, show us the ropes, explain how to work this thing called life, those people, dropped the ball.
i think we were all left with questions.
we’d knock our glasses together, give each other looks that say ‘we understand’ and drink to the fact that we all have life experiences that echo the same questions.
we’d pat shoulders, and give hugs. we’d be there for each other and support each other through the act of simple remembrance. remembering when we first asked these questions, when we first lived through these experiences of not knowing. of waking up every morning and questioning if we have what it takes. if we have what it takes to be the man or woman we want to see staring back at us in the mirror. if we can be successful. if we’re intelligent, smart, handsome or beautiful.
i think we all have our own questions. as much as it’s a shared experience, the questions are very personal. and the ones you may struggle with, i may not. but as diverse, personal and individual the questions are, i believe if we peeled away the layers, if we looked deeper, we would all come to the place where at the heart of the issue, beats one question.
am i worthy?
and the sad thing, is that most of us will live our entire lives avoiding the answers. we’ll live our lives so shallow, drowning in the circumstantial, that the questions will never get faced. we will never allow ourselves to face the pain that those questions left us with.
maybe the question was first given to you by an experience in your childhood. maybe it was a heartbreak in your teen years, or the abandonment of someone close. maybe it was innocence that was stripped away. maybe it was as simple as someone important not taking the time to show you what they were supposed to show you.
however the questions present themselves, if you’re like me, this is the question you’ve realized you’ve been asking all this time. am i worthy? am i worth it?
am i worth the love of a woman?
the love of a Saviour?
will i live my life avoiding the answers? will i whitewash the walls? will i constrain myself to live in shallow tidal pools all the while dreaming of distant shorelines? or will i ask the only question that actually matters?
will i ask to be written into the great story? will i ask to be written into the song of grace? the song that started millenia ago and that is being woven together even today?
inside of that story, the questions that haunt us find their answers. the wounds we carry, find healing. and our scars, become medals. in that story, in that great overarching story written by an Author far beyond our comprehension, we find grace, we find beauty, we find we are beautiful, and we find freedom.
in that story, its not that the question gets answered. it’s that we realize, that it never really mattered.
one sonic society – burn
there are moments when i question. when i honestly wonder if i have what it takes. to become the man i yearn to be. to see the dreams in my heart come to pass in my life. there are moments when i question my own abilities. when i question if i’m good enough. there are moments when i honestly wonder how any woman could fall in love with a man as flawed as i am.
and i am reminded.
that it is in my weakness that He is strong. that this morning was birthed in grace. that He never let go. that i can rest.
that there is hope. for us both.
that the One who is holding me tonight….
that i am His child. no one elses.
i may not be the man i want to be, yet. but i’m closer than i was in January. and i’ll be closer still tomorrow.
Fee – Arms That Hold The Universe
what is it about performance that scares so many of us? that keep us from pursuing our dreams or following what we love? have we bought into the lie that if we cannot be the best at whatever it is we want to try, that we shouldnt try it? why is it that we, that i believe that if i cant nail it on the first try, it’s not worth trying?
what is it about failure that we fear? that i fear?
why can i not simply accept the fact that i am loved by a perfect God? that i’m playing a role in my own story, and that i want it to be one worth reading? why dont i realize that the books i read are exciting and full of life because the protagonist faces a challenge of overwhelming odds and yet doesnt turn away?
why dont i realize that it’s in these stories that the protagonist becomes the man he was meant to be, that it’s the journey as much as it is the destination that makes the story a story? that it’s the battles, the victories, and yes, the losses, that make the story one worth telling and retelling.
without risk, without reward, without there being an overwhelming obstacle and without a reason to face that obstacle, there is no story.
tonight im faced with the challenge that in a lot of ways, i may be my own biggest obstacle. and if we’re honest with ourselves, that may be the same for a lot of us.
yes, we can blame our parents, our upbringing, the ways we were or werent treated. we can point to our history and share our stories and say that it’s not our fault. but when you strip all that away, no one holds you back from your dreams with any more power than you give them.
i think the rest of this year will be me facing myself. my own fears, fears of failure. fears of trying new things and allowing myself to bask in the grace that is so freely given.
isnt that what life was meant to be? loving enough to allow others to stumble? loving them so much that the freedom of trying something new, of stepping on toes and painting outside the lines becomes the reality that you live in?
i struggle with that. i do.
i like order and neatness and patterns.
but thats not all there is to life.
we forget that we were created. and if we were actually created, than there was a creator. and if there was a creator, then creativity is what literally gave us life. we’ve forgotten that it was love, passionate overwhelming love that created us.
we’ve forgotten that creativity was the very art form that breathed life into everything we see around us. we, you and i, are pieces of art.
and it’s that art that i want to fall in love with. i want to fall in love with the art, the beauty that exists inside of each of us. inside of you. i want to fall in love with music and passion and pottery and dancing. i want to fall in love with a creative spirit. and i want to rediscover the creative that lives in me.
Future of Forestry – Slow Your Breath Down
this chest is full of memories
of gold and silver tears
i’ll give you more to own than all of this
and i’ll give you more than years
for you were once a child of innocence
and i see you just the same
your burdens couldnt win or lose a thing
oh i’d tell you once again
but you’re always on the run
slow your breath down
just take it slow
find your heart now, oh
you can trust in love again
slow your breath down
just take it slow
find your smile now, oh
you can trust in love again
if you leave, i’ll still be close to you
when all your fears rain down
i’ll take you back a thousand times again
and i’ll take you as my own
i will sing you songs of innocence
till the light of morning comes
till the rays of golden honey cover you
in the sweetness of the dawn
but you’re always on the run
slow your breath down
just take it slow
find your heart now oh
you can trust in love again
slow your breath down
just take it slow
find your smile now oh
you can trust in love again
you’re not alone
you’re now a part of me
you feel the cure
i feel the toil it brought you
i got a raise this week. a big raise.
part of me was thrilled. part of me was thankful that the company noticed my efforts and rewarded as such. and for the rest of that day, i was filled with a temporal sense of happiness. but then something changed. and i think i’m only now beginning to understand.
my prayers of late have been those of struggle, of wanting to let go but fighting to hold on. they have been those asking to be saved from the kingdom of self.
i wondered earlier this week, why the raise didnt make me happier. why things didnt seem lighter or easier to deal with. and i think im finally realizing that things will never fill the void. i’ve always known that. but i think that changes when you hit thirty. and your attention shifts from work, the career, getting ahead, to the things that have a more eternal value.
our focuses shift to family, friends, and that place called home. to the bigger story that each chapter of our lives has thus far alluded to. and as our focus, as my focus shifts, i realize again that i dont want to be king. i dont want to live my life pursuing my own comforts.
i want a battle to fight, a girl to fight for, and a story to live.
in a million miles in a thousand years donald miller writes about his experience of having a movie made about his first book. a movie, literally made about his life. and its during the making of the movie that he realizes that a movie about his life would be boring. because his life, was boring. his life wasnt a story worth telling.
i want a story, stories, worth telling. stories of the battles, the girl, and amazing grace. stories full of hope.
because it’s in those things, its in the heat of the battle that we learn the value of life. it’s in the love and beauty of a woman that man finally begins to understand the mystery of grace. and it’s in living through the story being told, that we see ineffable proof of an Author who cares more for us than we’ve yet begun to comprehend.
and if it takes walking through the storm, the storms, to get to the place where i can be that man. the man who will fight, who will love, and who will follow the King of all stories…. then so be it.
Husbands, go all out in your love for your wives, exactly as Christ did for the church—a love marked by giving, not getting. Christ’s love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness.
that is what i want to be.
sometimes things are better left alone and other times, we need to crack open the boxes that we so neatly put our past away in, sort through the remains of a life we knew, and clear that space for a box of new memories.
it’s hard work. it’s dusty, and dirty, and even getting to those boxes sometimes requires a lot of unpacking. a lot of sorting through junk. it takes effort to clear space for the good.
and yes, it is much easier to sit on the couch and bury our dreams beneath another pointless tv show, where we can watch someone else do what we’ve always wanted to to. its easier to keep the closet door shut and live a life void of relationship, void of happiness and any real joy. it’s easier to play our video games, sit behind our laptops, sip our double mocahs and watch life pass us by.
its easier, but its not freeing.
i dont want to pretend that any one persons experience is a carbon copy of another, but i know beyond doubt that we all have boxes hidden away somewhere. boxes that, when the time is right, we need to pull out. take apart, deal with, and move on.
as i went through this weekend, reopening boxes closed many years ago, i realized that i was running out of space. that as humans we have only a finite amount of room to store our memories. and if we want to create new ones, if we want to replace the pain, the hurt, and the sadness that our past may contain, we need to pull those boxes out of the closet, expose them to the light, sort through their contents, and free up that space for memories anew.
i want to clean out these boxes, deal with the history, once for all, and move on.
i’ve realized this weekend something i am sure i’ll need to be reminded of. that being – that i live in texas. and beyond any other goal this year, i want to follow the Call i hear inside my heart. the Call that has always been there. the Call of the One who has always been there, even when i doubted.
this Call that draws me towards deeper relationships, to opening my heart and letting people in, to a future that i want to see.
a future of relationship, of joy and happiness. a future where yes, there will be pain. but there will be so much more than that. a future where there is someone who i love passionately. a future where we experience life, a future of travel and seeing things and living life to the fullest.
and as i sit this weekend and unpack boxes, i know there are many more than i can deal with in one weekend. but i will deal with them. i will get through them.
i no longer want to be held back by my past, defined by my mistakes or the mistakes of others. i want to write my own story, find passion in life and dance. my god i want to dance.
there is a girl. and someday, i want to tell her how i feel.
but until that time, i’ll work, i’ll prepare. i’ll live my life to the fullest i can, and clear the memories of the past for memories of the future.
i will listen to the Call, live my life, i’ll follow my King, and i will become the man i want to be.
Passion – Awakening
like the rising sun that shines
from the darkness a light
i hear Your voice and this is my
awakening
i hate fear.
i hate it with a passion. a hatred that is deep. down inside the most basic parts of who i am. i hate what fear does, and what it keeps me from doing. i hate how much i dislike confrontation. how much my own fear keeps me from pursuing the things i want to. i hate that i gave in to the fear that i wasnt worthy of this, of pursuing the girl, of joy and happiness and actual life in life.
i hate that there are moments when the fear i feel is so overwhelming i’m almost rendered motionless. i hate that im terrified of abandonment, of not being good enough, of failing, of not being love-able.
what i hate the most, is that part of me knows that the fear, as real as it seems, isnt the truth.
i could show you my scars. the scars that lead to each and every fear i have. i could tell you the depth of the pain, let you see the damage done. i could share with you the stories of heart-break that ive lived through. i could easily prove to you why i fear. and why fear is something i hate.
but what i really want, is to break free.
there. i said it.
i. want. to. break. free.
why? because there is a girl, and she is worth it, because life is worth it. because i am worth it.
i’m not sitting on the sidelines any longer.
i may never have all the answers, and i cannot promise to be perfect or love the girl the way she deserves. but i’m going to try. i’m going to follow the King who’s name i proclaim. it means, this means war.
i will trust Him….
i will break free.
i didnt realize it until just a few days ago, but on february 15 my blog turned 8 (happy birthday blog!). 8 years. wow.
when i started out on this journey, one of the first things i said was that i wanted it to be real. i didnt want to pull punches or hide behind shoddily constructed white-washed walls. i’ll admit that since that time, some posts havent been the most positive. even recently i know you’ve seen me struggle. hopefully, the struggle means ive been confronting things in my life. things i’ve dealt with for years but i’ve never actually overcome.
and honestly, as i move forward, and as i face these demons once and for all, i cannot promise that future postings will be happy and full of cheer. life isnt like that. life isnt full of fluff and cotton candy. life is hard. it was meant to be. and the more i live it, the more i realize that there are things, people, worth fighting for. that there are dreams i desperately want to see come to pass. that there are people i care deeply about. people i will fight for. people i’ll put it all on the line, come hell or high-water, is that all you’ve got, fight for.
the more i live this life, the more i realize that it’s through the hardships that we come to understand true worth, that we come to realize how deep real beauty lies. that its in fighting through the crashing waves that we realize how important our next breath is. and its when we’ve seen how much depravity exists, that our eyes understand how much grace we’ve been shown.
it’s only in the darkest of our days that the we understand how important light is.
i think the most important thing i’ve learned thus far, on this journey, is that we shouldnt run from our hardships. because it’s in the midst of whatever it is we’re walking through, that we so often find what we never knew we needed.
my mp3 player is always on random. and with 30 gigs of music to chose from, it really is random. most times, i dont really focus on what’s playing as it’s really just something to help me focus at work. earlier this morning, this song came on. and although i purchased the album some time ago, this was the first time ive actually listened this song. since then, it’s been on repeat. why? because i needed to hear it.
and if you’re at all like me, then you need to hear it too.
i cannot promise that life will be easy when you wake up tomorrow. but if you stick with it, and deal with what you need to deal with, it will be beautiful. it will.
Fee – Arms That Hold The Universe
i know it seems like this could be
the darkest day you’ve known
but believe you me, the God of strength
will never let you go
He will overcome, i know
and the arms that hold the universe
are holding you tonight
you can rest inside
it’s gonna be alright
and the voice that calmed the raging sea
is calling you His child
so be still and know He’s in control
He will never let you go
through many dangers, toils and snares
you have already come
but His grace has brought you safe this far
and His grace will lead you home
and the arms that hold the universe
are holding you tonight
you can rest inside
it’s gonna be alright
and the voice that calmed the raging sea
is calling you His child
so be still and know He’s in control
He will never let you go
you can hope, you can rise|
you can stand
He’s still got the whole world
in his Hands
i was challenged earlier today. challenged to find my _____ (whatever your need is) in the words of the Author of this story first. before i turn to friends, family, church leadership, or close associates. i was challenged today to find my solace, my comfort, who i am in the great I am. to turn to His words first, and trust Him, before anything else.
the funny thing is that i know so many of these words already. i know them by heart and can either recite them word for word, or give you a good idea of what’s being said. the funny thing is that i’ve said these words, prayed these words, believed and spoken these words over those i am close to. for friends, family and people i am passionate about.
i know these words as undeniable truth for my friends, for my family. words that say that by His stripes, you are healed and that this Author is the father to the fatherless. words that promise what our heart yearns for.
i know these words. and because of the love i have for my friends and family, believing these words for them is easy. i know the Authors heart because it is evident in the stories He wrote and in the stories He is writing. i know His heart breaks when the heart of someone i care about breaks. i know He feels it when his daughter, my friend, goes through a rough break-up. i know He aches when one of his children is shunned. i know how much He cares for them. i may not fully understand or grasp how much He cares, but i dont doubt it.
but i doubt those words when it comes to me. i doubt His love. His dreams. i doubt that He actually has a plan for me.
there are times when having the father i had growing up doesnt bother me. and there are times when it seems to be an insurmountable mountain in my way.
part of me knows deep inside, that there are things a boy is supposed to learn from his father. things that only a father can teach. the way in which a father is supposed to help boy discover who he is as a man. guide him through the difficult transition and into a better understanding of manhood. fathers were meant to initiate boys into men. they were supposed to show the boy that he has what it takes.
do i have what it takes?
maybe you’ve never asked yourself that question. maybe you’ve never had it haunt your thoughts and dreams. or maybe you’re like me and you understand this question intimately. maybe youre too familiar with asking yourself that as often as i do.
that, is my greatest fear. i dont know if i have what it takes. do i have what it takes to be a man? to call the girl? do i have what it takes to woo her and pursue her and show her how much she is truly worth? do i have what it takes to be the man i’m supposed to be?
that, is my greatest fear. not failing, my greatest fear isnt failing. but not having what it takes…. of not being a man.
if the challenge i was given this morning meant anything to me, if im to gain anything by the words that were so powerfully delivered, if i am to apply it to my life right now, then i need to find my ____ in the Author of this story. in His words, and in His truth. i need to find who i am, in His story and not the one i try to write.
i need to find me, in Him. i need to find that i have what it takes in the Father to the Fatherless.
there are moments in life when our words, as heartfelt and meaningful as we want them to be, hold very little of the importance we believe they do.
i think, in a way, thats why we like stories so much. we ask people how their weekend was, or where they’re going on vacation. and when they respond with “you’ll never believe what happened….”, we’re all ears. we buy books and watch movies. we play video games and disappear into virtual reality. no matter the medium, they all tell us stories.
it’s almost as if without understanding exactly why, we know that stories carry more meaning than the words used to convey them. it’s one thing to know that someone’s heart is aching, and something completely different to hear the story of her abuse, or his sisters drug problem. someone can tell us they are in love, but those mere words seem almost empty when you hear the incredible story of how they met, or how he proposed.
we gravitate towards stories because we intrinsically understand that life, in its most beautiful, is made up of stories.
the sad part, is that for many of us, the most amazing stories we will ever experience, are those we read or hear. we constrain ourselves with our books, movies and video games. the stories our coworkers share about their weekend or their upcoming vacation to paris excite and entice, but we never take that step and decide to live our own stories. we surround ourselves with what we chose to believe is important, our jobs, the bills we need to pay and that tv show we’ve just got to watch…. and we never step beyond it.
maybe we’re afraid of the stories we’ll be part of, or the part we will get to write. maybe we’ve seen to many stories end badly, to many ships sinking in the waves of the storm. maybe we’re the ones with the stories of heartache. of abuse and abandonment and pain. maybe we’re the ones who’ve given up, and decided that if thats what living is like, we dont want to anymore.
i know that in so many ways, that reflects who i am.
but then there are moments. moments when the Author of this story gives us a glimpse. a glimpse into something that raises our eyes above the immediate that surrounds us. a glimpse of the sun through the storm clouds. a snapshot of endless beauty that brings life to the shades of gray that surround us.
and in that moment, we are lifted from your surroundings, from the chapter we’re mired in. and we realize that this chapter is but a few pages in the book of our life. you realize how much bigger this book can be. and hopefully, we realize again, that we can trust the Author of this story. we realize in that moment that it’s only because of the binding of grace, that our story is still being told, that our book hasnt fallen apart. and that even through the darkest times we’ve ever known, there is a happy ending out there.
think about it, the stories we love the most are those of the hero overcoming, of finding that someone and falling in love, of the underdog – victorious, of the downtrodden defended. the stories we love the most are those of facing our giants, and seeing them fall.
those are the stories i want to tell people. at the water cooler, while passing in the hallway or sunday after church. i want stories of danger and risk, and love and endless beauty. stories that carry with them the weight of a life being lived. stories, stories i’ve lived. stories i am living.
stories, held together, bound by grace.
FindingTheCourageToDream.com 