A blog is dying

I like to write, sure. I'm not even that bad at it. My priorities, however, place writing at a fairly low point on my "to do" list. Then, of course, the real trouble is sitting down and finding something whimsical and interesting to write about. Then there's the added pressure of feeling the need to sound witty or wise as I chronicle my thoughts. And then I get so discouraged when there are no responses to my thoughts (please, no pity responses on this post), as though they are not valid without a reply. Such pressure makes me reluctant to post, especially when I need to be in the studio or playing with the boys or doing 1 of a 1,000 other projects. Doesn't this all sound familiar? I'm sure I've talked about this before.

Well, since it's about time for another post...or time to let my dying blog finally die...I'll pull out something from about this time last year.

Nostalgia

"Aydan was getting ready for VBS today and I was fairly fascinated at how big he's getting. He got dressed entirely by himself, including picking out all his own clothes: a repetoire complete with camoflage pants, sweat bands, his VBS shirt, and a visor. He then packed his Bible in his backpack by himself and hopped in the car. When we got to church, I expected him to be hesitant, but he charged into the unknown with no reservations, and I was the one who started to cry.
He's so big. He's spreading his wings and flying. It's cheesy, but it's true. He is finding independence and flourishing in it. I'm proud, and I'm sad (it's going by so fast), and I'm drawn back to my own childhood. I think maybe nostalgia is the state of mind that naturally occurs when such emotions are mixed together in the perfect cocktail.
1985. Maybe it wasn't a big year for you; hey, it probably wasn't that big a year for me either, but it signifies an important period of time in my life. In my nostalgia I find myself looking for the GI Joe theme song on the internet and longing for the return of parachute pants." {As an aside, I find it humorous that, a year later, that the 80's are fully upon us. We are revisiting that era in all manner of fashion, right down to white deck shoes (which I WILL be getting a pair of) and plaid shorts}. "I focus on this year because it is the subject of a song by the band Roper. I realized, thru this song, that it’s because I long for those days of ease and carefree living. The days of exploration and breaking free from the parents. The days of running through a park in Jamestown, ND with striped tube socks up the to top of my calves.
“Those days seem so distant, feels like a million miles. Troubles were nonexistent--1985.”

Maybe you feel like me, and you realize you MUST remember some of those feelings, relive some of those days, just to feel alive. In another song, "End of the Innocence" by Don Henley, I achingly agree with the lyrics, “Remember when the days were long…Didn’t have a care in the world…Somewhere back there in the dust, that same small town in each of us. I NEED to remember this.” It's like a hook inside my brain that pulls me back again and again. I have an idea for a painting depicting this, and hopefully you'll get to see that someday. But for now, I think I'll just grab a glass of lemonade, sit out on the lawn next to the sprinkler and remember the sights, sounds and smells of summer. When the days were long and we had no cares in the world. And when, at last, I must return to the "grown-up" world, I will go pick up Aydan and relive all these beautiful memories vicariously through my son."

what are we to do with the church?

cheesy. corporate. embodying failures and resentment.

This is how the church is perceived by many very dear friends of mine. If it is so with them, those who are part of this body, what are we to do?

no mission statements. no doctrinal statement.

I saw a man proclaim that "Jesus" is his church's doctrinal statement, and have heard other beleivers like him cry out for the church to leave behind mission statements, demographics, target audiences, etc.

painful.

should one member of a family consistently feel pain after reaching out when that person is let down again and again by "brothers and sisters" and even caretakers of the flock?

"I don't get anything out of it."

Is church an "it"? Does the church exist for you to benefit from it? A poor economist can tell you that your return is at least somewhat based on your investment. Getting out? Are we puting in?

"The church should be about teaching the broken how to do laundry."
"Spirituality is communal living, growing a group garden, and helping people who try to put Coca Cola in their infant's baby bottle."

Putting in. Is church attendance where we should be fixing our gaze? Can you attend church? If we invest by the current standard, are we just giving 2 hours of our time and our warm rumps to heat the cushioned seat beneath us?
There is guilt and regret. There is a longing for true community, true spirituality. The paradox is challenging: commit to an industry not getting dirty searching for the tangibles of the Gospel, OR justify not going to church. Both are contrary to the heart of God, right? Hebrews says we shouldn't give up meeting together, but James says that true religion, faultless in the eyes of God, is that which cares for orphans and widows. If the church is not about loving the unlovable, helping the marginalized, what would one be committing to if they "went to church"? Singing songs? A message? Social hour? Let's not give up meeting together, but are we meeting together for the right things?

What is the church now? If you "go to church," what are you doing? What must the church be? What is the church becoming? What should it become? How do we bring unity to the body? How do we bring different camps together?

what are we to do?

Look at those "Eyes"

The Isuzu Trooper parked in the garage now shows 73,000 miles on the odometer. That means in 14 days, I traveled 2, 825 miles. On our vacation to Chicago and Ohio, I was reminded of a powerful truth: selfishness is hard to outrun.
I had fun seeing old friends. I played basketball and in so doing, cut open a gash on my dad's eyebrow that required stitches and sprained my ankle so badly that it quite literally took on the shape and color of the legs belonging to the McDonald's character Grimmace. I relaxed. I took it easy. Look at those "I's". I, I, I, I.....
This is my blog, and I suppose the only person I'm qualified to speak authoritatively about is me. But my self-absorption was pointed out by my lovely wife as I looked at the above picture. I was struck by the humor of the pose, the irony of its commemoration (taken at an emergency room in Cook County Hospital after my friend Kyle had to get stitches in his eyebrow following a basketball injury), and particularly surprised by the appearance of my hair. "Did my hair really look like that?" I thought to myself. After thumbing through hundreds of pictures of Kyle looking hilarious, the only photo I asked to borrow and scan was this shot of me. Heather commented, "You really are fascinated by yourself, aren't you?" Ah...the painful truth.

I have mentioned before that sometimes I wish I could just escape myself; think about others and put them first more easily. I traveled from Texas to Ohio only to find my selfishness waiting for me there. It is true what they say: "Where ever you go, there you are."