Bobbi's Bias

Japan Deserves a Blog

2007-03-22T23:36:00.000-06:00

If it weren't for their heart size I could be two Japanese people in one. Weaving through the packed roadways with eye level above most heads, awkwardly disrupting the rhythmic flow of the Japanese metropolis, one can feel like the proverbial bull in the china shop...Elephant perhaps. Metabolic rate must be particularly high in this country because I don't remember going half an hour without eating...especially sweets and rice, and yet these people are delicate and petite. A beautiful hearted people.

There's so much to share...if you can't read it all scroll the headlines for some goodstuff.

Why Japan?

Our school sent over 400 people around the globe the past weeks. Israel, Mozambique, South Africa, Kenya, Alaska, Mexico...Japan; all to locations that Bethel Church has relationship with. Japan is still a "dating" relationship. We went to partner with several house churches that have been there 15-25 years and have begun to connect with Bethel the past two years. So teams are flying back and forth from Japan and California...sharing life and revival.

The Feel of Japan

Being Canadian space is a vast commodity, this can be deeply appreciated in Japan. Constantly surrounded by literally millions of people there is a tangible pressure in the atmosphere, you seem to believe you can feel the people for miles. Feel the movement. The lives. The recycled air.

There's an advancement that seemed to lauch me into the future...all the cement, and the computerized systems, the narrow streets, the new vehicles. Indeed foreign.

The toilette seats are heated and despite all the people the cities are very clean. Very orderly.

The ancient temples are intermingled with holographic advertisement screens.

Osaka in Southern Japan seemed to be a more preserved Japanese culture, though still an immense city. Tokyo was of course international, brimming with extreme fashion gurus, bold lights and statements, and dark avenues with heated secrets.

However, the nation in entirety carries a hunger, a desire for real. And it's a ripe atmosphere for God's outpouring. Can a nation be saved in a day?

Embarassing Moments

Amongst general cultural slips like forgetting to wear my slippers inside, or neglecting exchanging them for the bathroom slippers when going to the toilette (very sanitary), I have two outstanding moments of particular hilarity.

The first morning in Japan, I was alone in a house with my Japanese homestay family who spoke no english. Breakfast was on the table, some fairly common looking things...like cereal. I filled myself a bowl, and scanned the table for milk. The closest thing I could find was a bottle filled with a creamy-brownish substance, the label of course in Japanese characters. I made some questioning gestures to the wife, who seemed to not grasp what I was asking, so I decided to go ahead with what must be their version of milk.

Turns out it's Soy-sauce salad dressing. The first bite was a shocker.

And to my surprise (and that of my Japanese hosts) I ate it. I really thought this must be the style, until I saw the sauce used that night on salad, and when the following morning the milk was clearly marked out in front of my table place.

Later at a meeting in my home, with some of my team and the locals, my homestay dad could see I was getting tired so in broken english he splurts out, "Let's go to bed." Chuckles erupt and the poor man stammers to correct his English. Oh, communication!

My Team, Our Mission

Eric Johnson and Sheri Silk led the Osaka Japan Team with stamina, wisdom, and joy. This was probably the most impacting aspect of the trip for me; to be under solid healthy leadership that desires to see you step out and succeed. They cover faults and magnify breakthrough, and I felt safe to try new things and to fail or excel. The other twleve on the trip were a team of mixed ages from eighteen to late fifties but all saturated with zeal and love and a heart to see Japan rocked by God's glory.

A day could vary a lot. Generally we traveled to various church meetings spoke stuff God has done in our lives, healed the sick, and prophesied to individuals in the congregation. We also did a lot of impartation which is a fancy way of saying we prayed for people and asked God to deposit in them what we have...and it happens.
Also we visited hospitals, schools, pre-schools, colleges, and homes.

We took local church teams on the street meeting people and carrying the healing and prophesy from inside the church out (where it belongs) to everyday people in the mall, on the bus, in the park who need miracles and encounters to point them to Jesus. Some very cool personal stories with this...if you want to know about them just ask me and say "treasure hunts."

Mostly we invite Holy Spirit. He comes. Staunch Japanese business men laugh ridiculously on the floor, filled with joy, others cry as their innermost senses God's presence deeply touching and healing them. Men and women and children foreign and local felt the moving.

Miracles, Healings, Signs and Wonders

Yes...this stuff happens today. Jesus is alive. Here's a few of many stories:

A woman with no hearing in one ear due to surgery in which one of the bones in her ear was removed and never replaced, begins to hear!!! as a team member prays for her. She hears whispering at first and then hearing increases.

Tim prays for a man with a 20 year hernia. He tests it after a quick prayer and the pain is still so sharp he cannot bend forward. They pray again and the man bends slightly not feeling the regular pain and then swiftly bends all the way touching his toes. He comes up wide-eyed and shocked. No more hernia.

Three people in paralytic conditions were healed on this Japan trip, two in Tokyo (one was a full recovery of body function, in the second case nerve sensation began to occur and movement in the leg but not the whole body...yet). In Osaka two of our team went and prayed for a woman in the hospital who had been there four months following a severe stroke. The right side of her body was completely paralyzed. They prayed a minute or so and she began to flex her wrist and move her fingers. Soon her foot was taping, apparently not of her own will, and as it tapped feeling returned to her leg as well as mobility and strength. She said her back was still in pain, so they prayed and immediately the pain left. She stood and walked after four months on a hospital bed.
The Japanese pastor with them was ecstatic, but commented to the team as they left, "I don't understand you pray such simple prayers! I should do this with my church."

A man on the street with a knee problem received prayer and began excitedly running back and forth...healed.

A girl struggling with suicide and self-hatred began manifesting a demon during one of the church meetings. A few of the team escorted her privately outside as she was vomiting and yelling that she wanted to die, and began to pray with her, lead her through forgiveness of herself and speak truth over her. Soon she was filled with peace as she returned to her right mind and her entire countenance changed as she experiemced freedom.
There were quite a few deliverances on this trip, as much of the healing that took place dealt with heavy internal issues. However, often when these internal or sometimes demonic things were confronted many would experience physical healing from bodily ailments.

Knees, eyesight, headaches, flues, insomnia, backpain...were various miracles of restoration that we witnessed. Also I'm excited to hear cancer reports, because we prayed for at least ten people with cancer who many immediately felt heat sensations or "electricity" in their bodies as we prayed. So were waiting for the full doctors reports to endorse it.

Here's a sweet one. There was a little boy in the preschool that was being taught about hearing the voice of God and he begin to stand with his arms up and eyes closed, tears flowing down his cheeks. He's three years old. Some of the ladies begin to ask him if he's okay, "Are you feeling angry, or sad?" "No," he says, "very happy." The kids don't get a jr. Holy Spirit.

(The Mexico team shared how they had the street kids come in the church and pray for the adults...healing and prophesying. These kids who are always told they are dirt began to move through the cathedral and men and women began to weep as the children ministered and they were healed and touched, but more than that this was a picture of hope and destiny to their nation.)

There are so many many many stories. Classes the past few days back in Redding have been packed with testimonies from Africa, Mexico, Alaska and so on. Here's some tastes...

One team 13 blind people..eyes open.

3 Deaf mutes from birth, ears open and they begin speaking. One five years old, one nine, and one about in their 30's.

Cancerous tumor on baby's neck, gone.

Two year old dying of malaria...healed and running around.

Food MULTIPLIES in Mozambique as they feed 250 school children, several adults and the team with one large pot of beans that won't run out.

Paralytics healed. Broken bones crack and reset.

Man dead for 3 hours raised and healed from his disease.

The greatest miracle: People encounter Jesus.

Realm of Third Person

2006-12-19T01:53:00.000-06:00

Suddenly she was in a moment of elation, enraptured by the coo and tempo of the party, bursting with sensitvity and scene...
The day had climaxed. The pedantic purchasing of ornaments and garlands while gushing and trafficking momentous heart tangents with the girls was the hearthen fire rising the yeast in the dough of expectation. Liberating dynamics of feminine collision in friendship, set the minial day ablaze.
The party started at 6:00, the rushing started at 5:00, and she arrived on time at 7:00. The house of nine girls is never spacious, even less so considering the freshly decorated pine in the corner, and the bare floor cringed awaiting the cozy blanket of inflowing guests.
Dinner began, dancing, and greeting and the house gently jived with the people, the people spun around each other.
The girl's of the house of the nine, were awesome in splendor and glorious design. International attire and heartbeats of fire, a glow in their eyes, all the boys wearing ties.
Kyra would strum, Bri milked the keys, Ashlee on congas, all feet finding beat, and voices arose.
It's a moment of spinning and a moment of stillness; she was very unsure which notion was winning. The movement contagious, the acoustic so raw, the vibrations so sweet they tasted of awe. Melodies listed in sweet mixation, ingredients of the room, desert and din in congruent combination.
She moved to the kitchen and joined hearing a story, of war and of blood of sorrow and glory. Will shared of Iraq, showed the shrapnel scars on his back, they felt the sounds and rush of battle...the intensity of a moment that carries a life, carries a future, carries command.
The talk entranced and seduced yet was real, and she felt at that moment this was her complete capacity to feel.
But the night rolled on in the tunnel of laughter and love and a sorrow so subtle. The bond was so great and the relationships arose, they peaked and the pattern was quilted, knitted and close.
The dancing transformed, and caroling rose, the soft winking Christmas lights filtered the air like the scent of a rose.
Guitars strummed and friends laughed. She breathed so deeply her lungs thought of bursting, but her heart drank the life in the room with great thirsting.

A moment like this should never be forgot, life should never be lived as if this sentence were not. The bittersweet abundance in the tension of the memory, is enough that she will remain in me.

If Blogging were a Rambling Group Email

2006-11-25T13:41:00.000-06:00

Hi,

The last month has been...everything.

So many stories I'm not sure what to say, so let's go with RaNdoM...

I just got back from Mexico a day or two ago, I went on a road trip through Cali with the lovely Devi Jo and some local Redding crew. Highlights of that trip: Devi, friends, meeting new friends, seeing old ones, good coconut popsicles, surfing (learning) in San Diego, praying with San Diego/Maui crew Sunday night: all of us moved by that encounter. The standing wave! This was rad...my friend Kawika and his friend Reed (lead singer from the band Olivia...fun fact they were having thanksgiving with P.O.D the next day) were able to hook up with their friend Peter King who is part of the Hurley surf team promo and photography that Kawika had known from when he was surfing professionally and North Shore....all this to say that Peter hooked us up to the wave house which is basically an artificial wave in a pool, but it's super expensive to go and especially to rent it out. It was quite a neat little experience, to watch that is, Devi and I just chilled in the hot tub.

There's so much to say and I'm going into detail about strange things. I went to Danny and Sheri Silks house for thanksgiving which was this past thursday..mmm tasty. The Silk family is...how do I put this? Amazing. And it was such a privilege to be invited over. Danny is one of the main pastors/leaders here at Bethel, and Sheri is in leadership at my school.
School...speaking of which has been awesome....woah.
Heidi and Rolland Baker were here a week ago. They're missionaries in Africa...they see blind people see, deaf hear, and dead raised on a daily basis, and they care for thousands of orphans. It's a ministry of love and truth with power. Having them here was astounding. Heidi especially is just like a child, simple and free and honest...and joyful!

Also, I'm going to Japan...in March I think. More on that when I know more. It's a missions trip.

Oh, update on my skateboarding crash from the last entry. It's very healed up. Actually about a week after it happened I was at a friends house and I had it all bandaged up and her roomate wanted to see how gross it was. So I took off the bandage and it was all gutsy and deep still, and bloodyish because I had been keeping it moist (thanks Mumbys for the advice!). So, Brianna's all oohing and aahing and Alisha's just like let's pray and see what happens. So she starts praying and then says, "Skin grow." And my skin started to grow back before my eyes and that spot on my leg got really hot. We actually got out the video camera and filmed it and you can see it change, it was crazy. The wound had completely closed up and I walked out without a bandage and then from there the new soft skin just got stronger and more healed quickly over the next couple days. So, yay! God is cool.

Well, my lovely friend Kalie is here from Red Deer so we are going to go on some adventures this afternoon.

Love you all,
Bobbi

The Parable of the Hill and the Skateboard

2006-10-28T16:37:00.000-06:00

Under His Influence

2006-10-26T22:45:00.000-06:00

I haven't sorted through today yet. This week even. I think it's been mostly a recuperation week, and soaking...allowing last week to soak in. And I suppose next week will be a processing of this one. Time seems so fast. Time feels full...pregnant. Tommorrow feels full and I haven't even touched it yet. It's not summed up in busy. Time feels faster. And a moment feels slower. I taste eternity in a moment.

Last week held the three most intense consecutive days I have known in my life. And I know these are just a hint of some kind of more. There was a conference at church here last week, so there was people from all over the world here, and school was off. I had three Hawaiians staying at my house, and there was an even larger crew of the islanders dispersed among my friends. I fell unabashadly in love with these people, they are beautiful to the core. They were all friends of my friends Kawika and Christina. And my Grandpa Rob and Grandma Dusty and Aunt Lorna were all down from Innisfail, AB. The container for the time to hold the fresh outpouring is family. Restored. We were broken. Now we are one.

The first night with all the new wonderful people visiting was off the hook! We were all up 'til 4am praying, prophesying, laughing, praising Jesus. The next night we went until 5am...we just couldn't stop. The Holy Spirit was so present. And he touched us all so truly and undeniably. People that had never even experienced this before began to prophesy and see pictures and it would be so accurate we would be broken down to tears. Then the next night I had Ben's b-day bash at my place, but it quickly turned into a night of seeking God and prophetic acts (this means speaking and doing things as we feel God leads...there is often prophetic songs, or we will gather around someone and begin prophesying and speaking into their life...it's amazing and so freeing). Grandpa Rob and Grandma Dusty were there this night and it went until 3am, we were absolutely rocked and the power and love surging in the room is something you literally feel. We had so much supernatural energy...like these nights weren't something we were so much seeking after as it felt they were seeking us and we couldn't deny them. I feel no justice in summarizing these events, and I really don't know any good place to cut out and paste any of the stories.

On the other side of these days I feel a whole new reason to live. Not for these nights...because though there was a grace for them, that intensity cannot be a lifestyle...rest is beautiful. But I feel like I met a culture that I want to turn into a revolution. The raw Spirit of God in me...in us, and the pure love that inevitably oozes from your every pore after an encounter. The life, the laughter, the love I drank those nights and days was a pure wine that absolutely intoxicated me. And I feel wrecked for anything less than his presence. It's easy to live drunk because He's everywhere and he never leaves. Do you see? O taste and see...He's so good.

The Five W's

2006-10-14T18:42:00.000-06:00

Who: Bobbi Jo.

What: Hasn't blogged her adventures.

When: For a very long time.

Where: Anywhere. But mostly from California.

Why: Excuses...none really satisfy.

So, Here I am now. Feeling a lot. Thinking a lot. Loving most. But really really not sure what to write. I don't want to be preachy or cheesy...at least right now. I'm calm. My life is amazing right now. And as redundantly fairytale as it sounds, I think it will be forever. Not that stuff doesn't happen and life isn't tangled. I just know that I'm really touching something deeper than all that.

But on a surface level my quality of life is rather supreme in my opinion. I moved out to California, I have a car and a snowboard pass. (Really in California? Ya.) Friends and lots of fun.
I know that tough times develop perseverance and character, but oddly I feel strengthened and deepened in this environment. I think a big part is that others have broken path before me and my seeking is accelerated by their unearthed treasure.

And sometimes, sometimes like now, I feel alone. Sitting on a patio at an empty parking lot using the internet connection in the shade. A wonderful alone, because I realize I really don't feel alone at all. These simple moments are water to me because I know that my love for God is true and real and very much alive, even away from all the awesome currents and tides of the people and passion of this place.

I wonder what people must think about me always saying I'm in love with God. It could sound like a nice metaphor for enjoying life. It could be very clear. Maybe a mystery. Could sound crazy. God is a Lover looking for a Lover.

I'm at peace. In deep rest. In deep adoration. In deep love.

The clouds are wings brushing the silouhettes of mountains, and the breeze is soft. This Coldplay song is beating in my heart...I think it's being sung to me...

My song is love,
love to the loveless shown.
And I'm on fire for you,
clearly;
you don't have to be alone.
you don't have to be on your own.

And I'm not gonna take it back,
and I'm not gonna say I don't mean that;
You're the target that I'm aiming at,
and I'm nothing on my own.

Got to get that message home,
I love you please come home.
My song is love.

JH Ranch...I have no Idea what JH stands for.

2006-09-21T22:12:00.000-06:00

This last week we went on Retreat to JH Ranch in the mountains about two hours north of Redding. Camping and mountains and friends are among my favourite things, so it was a blast. Not to mention God rocked my world more than I had really believed possible. Fun.

Cabins...and pines...mmhhmm. Friends. All Canadians I just realised, except Kawika (ka-vi-kah) he's from Maui, extreme surfer dude. Laura and Jaimee to my right are two rad sisters from Canmore that I knew before the school. Alisha is on my left and from Nova Scotia...we were covenant friends the moment we met...more on her later.
We had outdoor worship. Glorious.

Jaimee and I laugh a lot. This girl is all spunk and heart. And she's moving to Africa again after this school to work with kids, that's her desire.

Alisha and I met on a friday night with a small group of friends, three guitars, and spaghetti. She sat beside me and we talked about Canada...our home and native land. She's from the east coast, and as I talked about home she began to pray for my area of the country. It was so powerful. We joined hands and began to proclaim unity between the East and West and repent on behalf of attitudes and actions of our regions. It was Huge, much bigger than the two of us and we really didn't know what we were doing, except we could feel God's Spirit so strongly as we prayed that we were physically shaken and moved...I mean very literally. Everyone else in the room was worshipping with singing and guitars on the floor and couches, and the place was thick with glory. These are my favourite moments in life. I turned to Alisha again because I had felt an inner nudging to ask her about her heritage. "First Nations," she said. "I'm french Canadian," I said. Blasted. A simple phrase like that and woah. So, we grabbed hands again and I asked forgiveness for my people from acts and attitudes against hers. A deep nobility rested on her and she said, "I forgive you, and welcome you, you have access to all my inheritance." Heavy.

The Famous Geordie and Stef Mumby from Edmonton (sometimes). Quaintly knitting and rocking while enjoying the outdoors.

Bill Johnson (senior pastor/leader of Bethel) speaking. He is so humble and powerful.
After he spoke the first night of retreat, I decided to go meet him. I waited as he spoke to others and then stepped forward to introduce myself. He asked me where I was from. I answered then said, "I really don't have much to say (really didn't know what to say to this man I deeply respect), but I just want to honour your hunger." He put his hand on my shoulder as I said this and his wife Beni came and stood beside him. At this moment it was very obvious to me that people can carry the presence of God in deep measures, and always more; I was crying without knowing it and what I felt all around me and within me and saw covering and exuding from Bill was overwhelming and indescribable at best. "It's the same thing that's in you," he said. And we just stood. "We'll burn together,"he said. And we waited. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you," Bill said. And we stood a moment longer our affections turned to deeper Presence.

This is what we call a "fire tunnel." Strange name, here's the interpretation: People (in this case our leaders), stand opposite each other with space in between them for people to walk through...very like a famous square dancing set-up. The idea is as you walk through the "tunnel" all the leaders pray for you.

Panoramic view of the fire tunnel, and it's after affects. The people laying in the grass have just been through. Bill had suggested beforehand that when we were prayed for we find a spot to rest and process a bit before running off to lunch. So people are resting on the grass...processing. Although in light of my own experiences, i'm not sure that many of those people could get up and stop 'processing' if they wanted to.

Good times. Note: Sheryne Wilson is the blonde with the ponnytail standing in the background...she's a friend from Calgary...just crazy fun connections here, it's unbelievable who you meet. Like Jaimee and Kawika here, and some other friends were all snowboarding together in New Zealand with people from Switzerland and Norway that are here too, who are friends with other friends of mine from home, and from Toronto...nuts, and it goes on. And I love it because I really don't believe in coincidence.

That's a bit of a summary...I know for a lot of people reading this it may not make much sense, but I hope that it stirs a deep hunger in you. Hunger for truth. Hunger for undeniable Presence.

Bobbi Meets Bethel

2006-09-12T22:49:00.000-06:00

"What you know, can keep you from what you need to know, if you don't remain a novice."

-Bill Johnson

Mystery is consuming me and it's why I'm so in love with God. When I encounter more it only shows me how much less I see. It's a shovel called hunger and I labor with it to dig, dig truth.

School started today and I don't have it categorized, sorted, or grasped, but I encountered my day there and I'll splurt excerpts.

The room. Four hundred people. Buzz. Sorting. Buzz. Movement. Anticipation. Self-conciousness. Buzz. Everything that can be expected for a first day of school, plus undercurrents. Clearly everyone travailed over their outfit that morning. Who am I?

The second years are with us in the beginning as we are welcomed. The alumni is absolutely combustible with passion, and the first years are clearly ignited but unpoised. There is a culture of honour cultivated in this place that astonishes me. I find it purely attractive. Honour.

There is the nuance of flavor in the motions but it is truly a derivitive of the heart.

We honour people because we are honourable. Honour aligns with inheritance. Family.

Leaders stood and introduced themselves and the year. Kris Valloton called us to engage, especially our minds, to challenge and chew. And Bill Johnson, he doesn't warn you, your brain just instantly begins to boil to explosion. It's great though.

The most precious and bizarre moment of my day was this: Bill just finishes speaking, and then begins to pray to conclude. I open my hands on my knees in a gesture of receiving. They're covered in gold dust. And oil. And there's no other way to say it except that it began to grow and increase as I looked at it. Oil was leaking from my hands, and gold sparkles kept multiplying and then spreading up to my elbows.

Jaimee and Laura, two friends of mine from Canmore, Alberta, also attending the school were seated on each side of me. Jaimee began to notice my hands and was ecstatic but trying to keep quiet because Bill was still praying. Laura then started checking out her hands and they were naked, she looked at them about twenty seconds later, and they were glittering. As we watched the glitter intensified. And it stayed for hours, until I wore it off.

It's happened to me at least twice before while I was praying at my Red Deer home with Jim and Danielle, just not this extremely.

I have no explanation or formula.

Miracle. A sign that makes you wonder.

Wanton Rambling...

2006-09-08T00:35:00.000-06:00

I put stickers on my laptop. Somehow it's a lot less threatening and the computer and I are getting along nicely now that it has a bit more personality. I also built my new room over the last few days. (To the Uninformed Reader: I've moved to Redding, California as of last Saturday; I'm going to a Jesus School for a year). Creating my room required a lot of shopping. Those closest to me know that I am not an avid shopper, so this was a tedious task. The first day was actually great but after three days of shopping for closet organizers and pillows, I want to puke a little bit when I drive by a mall.

My roommates are stellar. Three girls: Sarah, Jessica, And Nikki. We live in a comfy apartment...with a SWIMMING POOL! But it's California, so that's really normal, and I'm probably the only person in the apartment complex that uses it. Everybody dresses in long pants and T's, even sweaters and coats, and I just think that's insane because it's like at least 36-40 degrees most of the day. Bring on the pool!

Sundial is a bridge close to my house that crosses the Sacramento River. It's funky engineering amongst beautiful landscape, it's one of my favourite spots in Redding so far. I run down there every morning (so far), but yesterday was special because I came accross a rattle snake. I was oblivious until I'd barely passed it and this dude behind me on a bike start's yelling at me, "Woah check out that rattler!" Crazy. Another is Bethel Church's prayer house...I can't properly furnish its description, but it's beautiful and absolutely shrouded with peace and Spirit, and it feels as though you can breathe more deeply.

My "accent" gets a lot of attention. I'm only now becoming awkwardly aware and try to especially avoid the following words: out, boat, pillow, bag, about, pasta, and eh? Truth be told I like having an Alberta plate on my car, and I'm not working too hard to assimilate my accent, I love being Canadian and enjoy the distinction. I just have to adjust to being the crux to many a smirk and jarred expression, and also to being randomly overruled in a sentence...

"So, if I follow Hilltop drive out to-"
"Woah, woah, woah, did you just say out?"
"Well, how do you say it?"
"OWt."

I'm Canadian. It's out.

Pure Flame

2006-09-08T00:28:00.000-06:00

Sex Can't Be Had With Clothes On

Intimacy = Trust + Stripping

Divine Romance requires vulnerability and passion congruent to our human relationships. We grow together as we drop the guards and the pretentious masks shatter. It's terrifying. It's extravagantly beautiful when you are bare before Your Creator. But it takes fire. Dance in the flames.

Here; Redding, CA

2006-09-04T00:00:00.000-06:00

Here I am Here
little by little
Stripped and shrouded
Every drop of blood thirsty for intimacy,
for reality;
Truth.

What is my name
What seal is mine
Stripped to fullness
bled by fire
even whisper my name.

Sink into my bones,
Melt through the sands of my desert's Soul,
Rest. in my Oasis Gardens
Taste from the trees love's sweet fruit My Darling.

Breathe over the waters.
breath over the Waters.
Breathe until they're dry-
Find me on that bare floor,
Darling kiss me alive.

Won't You Just Be With Me

2006-04-12T22:15:00.000-06:00

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know.

Be still.

Be.

Be.

Be.

Because Be is the beginning of Beginning,

and Be is the beginning of Believing,

and Be is the beginning of Belonging,

and Be is the beginning of Becoming,

and Be is the beginning of Behaving,

You're trying so hard to behave but I'm not going to let you until you learn how to Be.

I'm not going to let you even behave right until you learn to Be.

It's the beginning of Behaving.

Be is the beginning of Beloved. And you are my beloved.

You are my beloved.

Be with me.

-Jason Upton-

The simplicity of this revelation and the power in its truth is crushing me like waves. Drowning me in the realization that it doesn't matter about the friends I have or social status, my job, or education, house, car, clothes, fashion, popularity (if that's even real). It's all fading. The money I live from is just money. The places I go are just places. My efficiency is sometimes blinding. My ambitions are dust. My striving is rust. My accomplishment and success in trying to succeed is the most dangerous; I get what I want long enough that I forget what I need.
Even ministry and good works are empty if they are fueled out of striving.

I could feed the whole world but starve my soul. I could transform the earth but never be whole. I asked where I start. God, where do I start. Be with me. Be with me he said. I go deep, he pours wide. I want to mock the insecurity that is masked under 'logic', by trusting God. By trusting God. Trusting. Falling. Flying. Freedom. "Look at the birds," Jesus said, "Your Heavenly father feeds them," "Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don't work or make their clothing yet Solomon in all his glory was not even dressed as beautifully as they are. Your heavenly father already knows your needs, and he will give you all you need from day to day if you live for him and make the Kingdom of God your primary concern." (Mt 7:26...)

I'm so in love.

I'm so in love.

And all I want is to be with You.

All I want is to be.

Be.

Just You and me.

Of Dried Mangoes, Sesame Snaps, and Single Status

2006-04-06T13:18:00.000-06:00

I've developed a bizarre addiction. I've been reoccuringly arriving in the Save On Foods parking lot. Soon I find myself at the till with sesame Snaps and a bag of dried Mangoes in hand. The severity of this impulsion is exposed in this evidence: I've memorized the mango bin number (1186), and sesame snaps (both original and vanilla) are .39 cents each, which is a little pricy considering at most places they are three for .99 cents. I've also converted to Save On Gas just to get grocery discount coupons in support of my habit. It's definitely a struggle for me to admit this, but this is my cry for help. I mean if "You really are what you eat", what am I becoming? Dried fruit and bird food?

I've only recently been released from my apples-and-peanutbutter fixation. That ordeal required some serious rehab, but I'm keeping pretty clean. And all this attributes to why I am presently marveling in single life. I am somewhat of a freak. I think I will always be odd, and I honestly hope to become even more strange, because I love it. Ultimately, I want to be weird because I listen to the voice of God more than I hear the voice of people, not because I have obsessive snack fetishes. Most of my motivation in life is based on pleasing people and becoming acceptable to feel wanted. It's a bitter confession but I would be a liar to say I am firmly reliant on the unbending truth of my creator rather than the wind-blown thoughts of humanity. I am so disturbed by my condition. What a tension. I long to be stripped; pure, naked and unabashed. Not disconcerted or embarassed; poised. Not concealed or disguised; obvious. Yet I hide continuously and these masks won't fracture. I'm in a skin that needs to shed, and i'm grasping the dead cells as a shield. There's growth in the cocoon but death if it is never escaped.

I'm meant to be flying soon; I've been climbing for a while. I make the transition so complicated but all it requires is letting go. Analysing will kill it. While cliff jumping, you have to jump, standing there and thinking for too long will result in never leaving the ledge. I feel captive to a paralytic fear. I can see that it's ridiculous but I stay frozen. When I was young I had this outrageous and exaggerated fear of popping balloons. I took a steak knife and tried to pop one while I was home alone the other day and it was completely nonsensical the effort it took. I went up to the balloon all nonchalant with the knife poised and stood petrified for nearly five minutes occasionally threatening with a slight arm thrust that never intruded beyond a foot radius of the balloons space. Eventually it became so preposterous that I began to verbally mock and coax myself, and was soon rolling on the ground laughing at the halarity of the situation and my foolish fear. Really I should have been more afraid of the steak knife than the air filled rubber, but reason was absent. Finally I just did it. Laughing.

If this story has any moral it is trust and flight. Letting go. "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength..." Isaiah 30:15 God's view always seems so polar to mine...strength in quietness, rest is salvation....it really defies my "all by works" ethic. But this is another random stream that I'll leave roast in my mind.

This is a really abstract blog, I had no idea what would spill out, it makes me want to steal Arlene's term of "glob." Brain glob.

To Recreate the Rain

2006-03-30T22:52:00.000-06:00

There was this moment and I turned off the sound to hear. The rain was coming down. The lights expanded and bled on the liquid carpet and everything slowed. The wipers were rhythmic and the water drops echoed abstract symphonic courses. I was drenched and yet dry. Atmosphere exploded and thickened only vaguely sated by leaking. Darkness was full of water that held a clarity and life. A relationship. H2O.

It was obvious the sky would burst. The blazing roar and prologue of the setting sun bathed in viscous colors of uncontrolled vibrancy had become browed by drab sheets of cloud, which only heightened intensity as it sifted a veil of mystery over the extravagance. Texture tattooed vision. The covering billowed and rose, the night began it's tide. A rain drop fell.

The earth drank and puddled like a gluttonous king strewn drunk across his banqueting table. Surfaces slicked and every movement splashed. The air was drown, and singing allowed. The torrents were untame, uncivil, and glorious. The vibration of the mood, the mellow soothe, the taste and aroma; my soul knew it was alive. We all were alive.

Life on The Rocks

2006-03-25T20:57:00.000-06:00

If I could capture my angst maybe I would be free from it. The day is tired and I'm trying to hold on and see purpose but I feel like my coat is caught in the door of a Chevy and I'm being mercilessly whipped along. The veil coating my eyes has been lifted significantly. I glimpse eternity occasionally but I find it hard to remember the revelation, it seems to fade. I tell myself what is real, and I'm sure it is, I'm just struggling with why I can't see it. My core feels heavy and thirsty. Groaning and shifting, dreaming that I'm moving but I may be sleeping.

I think I'm on a cliff right now. And I think it's raining. The strain is dry though, and I feel unstretched, unmoving. Time can't just leak by, it's too valuable. I want to be comfortable. Let go of the jagged rock and fall into the meadow of empty contentment and complacency. Lie in the soft delusional grass until I melt into the dirt. But looking at the sky I see the clouds are moving like sand through an hourglass, things are exploding and time is not there to waste. There are enough mounds in the meadow and bones in the valley, and only a scattering who scale the escarpment or see the sky. I'm chasing glory, I'm chasing Him.

How do I describe what is running through my body, pulsing in my spirit, and rattling my humanity? Are we so lost, is it so desperate? I want to lie down a while and ignore the wind, yet the wind is my breath and where will I go without it. Into the dirt I suppose. I'm seeking light beyond the illumination, I think I see fire and I'm already burning. I can't scream and can't be still. I'm trying to breathe through the restless apathy.

I'm not depressed, nor defeated. I am struggling and aching, but I don't believe it's empty, I can't. It's refining, characterizing. It's diligence, longing, hope, pursuit, brilliance, destiny, vibration, grit, and love. I am preparing my mind for action, keeping sober in spirit, and desperately fixing my hope completely on the grace to be brought to me at the revelation of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1:13). Hanging on this wall isn't forever; I taste glory. My foot finds a new hold, I feel his hand on my back, I sense his voice before me; it's worth it.

I will yet praise You, my God and my King, lover of my soul.