prayer

Sweet Jesus, please hear what I have to say.  My thoughts are clumsy Nike footsteps in a new season of athletics.  Alien dirt in unwatered fields. I long to come off the bench for you now, fresh and hungry for ministry championships.  It seems you leave me by exposed tree roots with the wi-fi beatles.  In the cool of the among teas and cocoa and lichee smoothie.  Where I do not weep.  Where I am silent.  Where I do not

feel enough to know I’m in desperate need of you.  My feeder, my Burgemaster speakerphone.  The giver of sustenance and loco moco.

gardening

We feel for pearls with luck-lust fingers

in cosmetic bark around this tree–

our palms moist from discovery like

Aaron’s oil 

Having searched

vehemently

in brine and chilling wi-fi depths,

aquatic beasts–the organic curve of fin, slickening

jet-stream travel in the

abundance of communal schools.

The memory of your Kingdom, or the vision of it,

those dimly-lit bowls of continuous nutrients.

The side-dish kaktoghee or kosarhee that re-hydrated

accoutrement, necessary and

embedded in steam rice with red-pepper spice.

Our bellies are the enclave of digitally re-mastered

jewels, the surround-sound of love sonnets you whisper

continually in our ears

You yank us from cliffs–

and slam us down in Moab basin–

we lack Jesus carabiner.

We touch you, making music at dawn,

only to be scalded by granite in our worship,

though, equally betrothed–Your

obsidian gem grafted to our fingers,

hard after lava-flow–

ash-less, our eyes batting for those hoped for

Pears and the juice running down our

kid-cheeks, checked out in a brief daydream,

multiplied by every continuous sacrifice—

 

My knuckles are clay, those moldable joints

and you hold my hand like junior high love,

or like an ancient covenant.

 

We had an ultra-sound a week and half ago and we are having a . . .

Son!!!

Both Janice and I were kind of hoping for a daughter, but a son is great too.  Of course, we’ll tell our son that we were hoping for him from the beginning.  During the ultra-sound (I am not too macho to admit) that I had some tears welling up in my eyes.  These were not tears of pride or joy, however–these were tears of sheer terror   I imagine a two year old rambunctious terror lighting our living room on fire, or a 16 year old post-pubescent rebel teen shoving me and yelling:

“I learned it from you, Dad, I learned it from watching you!”

I don’t smoke pot, mind you.

But alas, we had a girl name all picked out (which will remain a secret) but we never gave boy names much thought at all.  But lately we’ve been doing some brainstorming . . . or rather, I’ve been randomly shouting out names that come to mind to which Janice will respond “hmmm . . .” which I translate “uhh, no Dave, that’s a stupid name”.  But there are a few that we’ve both been like “mmmm, maybe–”  So here’s that list:

• Isaiah
• Calvin
• Zoku

So the quest continues.  Janice thinks the name will just come to us.  I tend to be the more pro-active (neurotic, worrying, control-freak) type.  So give us a hand keep them coming.  We’re looking for unique, strong male names.

Excerpt from my “under construction” paper on Spiritual Formation

We all live in distraction.College students, especially, are masters of simultaneously inflicted forms of brain stimulation streaming live from multiple conduits.Whether it is instant messaging, text messaging, email messaging, “Youtube” browsing, internet surfing, “WordPress” blogging, “Facebook” stalking, reality television watching, or the plethora of poly-phonic ring tones incessantly ringing the latest hip-hop riffs, there doesn’t seem to be a time or place that is too sacred or immune from interruption.A very typical modus operandi for a young college male could look like this:He is sitting in his dorm room with his laptop alt-tabbing from his history research paper, to Wikipedia, back to his paper, then to his Facebook “Scrabulous”game, now to his 10 ongoing “AIM” conversations, then to his “leet” warlock farming ore in the “WorldofWarcraft”, back to his paper, and then to surfing his friends’ blogs, all while channel-hopping from MTV, to the Discovery Channel, to Sportscenter, to Spike Television, to Comedy Central, and finally to the Food Network.Incredibly, Jack Johnson is playing quietly in the background on the computer speakers.And ironically, this is his idea of relaxation and solitude.

 

Please feel free to comment and add any new images, favorite habits of distraction, TV channels, etc.

Baby on the Way!

If you don’t know yet, Janice and I are expecting.  The little one is due in May. No, we don’t know the gender of the baby yet. But we will take name suggestions.  In fact we’ll have a contest:  comment with your boy and/or girl names.  If we end up giving our first child your name suggestion I’ll buy you dinner.  Please no Vulcan, Lord of the Rings, or names on God’s ‘these people suck’ list.

see other suggestions at http://www.xanga.com/simdj

Update!  Below is a list of name suggestions so far (in no particular order):

dim sum sim
claire
madeline
abigail
miele
Shamgar
amarisa
naomi
ethan
jaymin
emma
ella
lila
kayla
Michael
Andrew
Zerubbabel
Luke
Lydia

Redeeming “shame”

The feeling of shame reveals its hopeful core, its underlying positive valuation.  If all self-respect is lost, the feeling of failure or betrayal does not arouse shame but self-contempt.  Shame reveals how deeply the person cares.  Paul Pruyser expresses it succinctly:  “Shame has the seeds of betterment in it . . .it is future-directed and lives from hope”.  As Schneider concludes, “If one stands judged and inadequate before one’s better self, one still possesses that better self; while shame may separate the self from the other, it also points to a deeper connection.  In shame, the object one is alienated from, one also loves still.”  Pastoral Counseling Across Cultures  by David W. Augsburger

I ate up the stuff in Augsburger on shame in the chapter on the theology of Grace.  For a long time I’ve looked for redeeming images of shame, but did not find one in this culture which understands guilt more than it does shame.  I remember one of my spiritual mentors telling me: shame is not from God.  You need not feel shame.  It’s from Satan.  At the time, I absorbed what she said and accepted it.  But something in me knew that my understanding of shame and her understanding of shame was different.  I loved what Augsburger has to say about shame.  I interpret it as:  shame is to High Context (Asian) cultures as Guilt is to Low Context (Western) cultures.  And, in both, there is both positive and negative.  I think, when people discredit shame in our culture, they may be talking about self-contempt.  But it seems like shame in the purest positive form has at its core a collectivistic vision.  The individual has acted in such a way as to alienate himself from the family or group, and his desire is for restoration.  Both Pruyser and Schneider do a wonderful job of painting shame in a positive light.  I’ve never heard shame spoken of so beautifully.  As “future-directed” and “living from hope” and “pointing to a deeper connection.”  Awesome.  I feel encouraged and affirmed.  Shame can be a positive force that hopefully works towards betterment and deeper communal connection.  Likewise, guilt can motivate us to be better individuals.

Reflections on Nouwen’s In the Name of Jesus.

A mentor in college used to always tell me to do two things.  First, he told me to KISS.  No, he didn’t mean to go and kiss girls, but to “Keep it Simple Stupid.”  The second thing he always told me was to be like JELLO, just “chill and serve.”  While unpacking the little gem that is Henri Nouwen’s, In the Name of Jesus, I was repeatedly reminded of these two phrases my mentor asked me to ruminate on.  Most of the time, the most brilliant ideas or writings are the simplest ones.  And the easiest way to love is to honestly serve someone.

What a simple, yet profound book this is.  It’s a great reminder about the important things in life and leadership.  What I hear most glaringly in Nouwen’s words is to simply love and be loved.  A lot of times I find myself splitting my brain in an attempt to solve the ministry bind I’m in.  I try hard to conjure a brilliant idea, or create the new ministry structure which bring us all to our knees singing hallelujah!  Ultimately, this all only serves to help me feel I have some control in the situation.  Often, I’m tempted in my leadership to create more distance with those under my care.  I get good at side-stepping and getting fancy with my rhetoric to make it appear I’m genuinely wanting to care for someone, when, really, I’m trying to cut corners and spare myself the horror of deeply investing.  There’s a fine line between serving and manipulating.   In reflecting on the moments I have most feared closeness with people, I find Nouwen’s words to ring so true:  “The temptation of power is greatest when intimacy is a threat.”

 The struggle between power and intimacy is often so real and dangerous for me.  I see it play out in my marriage.  I see it in my ministry.  Nouwen offers us good reminders.  It’s about Jesus.  “It is Jesus who heals, not I; Jesus who speaks words of truth, not I; Jesus who is Lord not I.”  I need to be reminded and constantly re-led to the mysterious place where somehow my broken, fallible heart becomes “the gateway for the unlimited and unconditional love of God.”  I’m a clay jar who has been given the honor of containing amazing water for those who thirst.  That they are quenched by that eternal Gatorade while I participate is a great mystery. 

Nouwen’s idea of mutuality is so profound.  Essentially it means (to quote from an old basketball shoe commercial) “you can’t fake the funk on a nasty dunk.”  You can’t love and be intimate with those around you when you’re not experiencing love and intimacy with Jesus.  People can smell love when it’s on you.  People know when they’re being loved.  You might fool them for awhile, but ultimately it catches up to you.  The only way to be authentic in our Christ-like love is to be with Him. Be in the places He would be.  Do as He does. Practice what Nouwen calls “down-ward mobility.”  Then you will become pungent with the odor of sesame oil, steamed-rice, and home.  Reeking as you just “chill and serve”—as you brilliantly keep-it-simple-stupid.  Coming full circle now, I’m once again challenged to quit playing my power games and to allow God to use me as His servant leader.