I had an epiphany while I was in the shower this evening. (Isn't it funny how epiphanies come in the shower? Maybe they don't for everyone, but they certainly often do for me.) In my last post, I used a metaphor of making chai and the readiness of that chai being delayed to convey different options we have as we experience delay in our own lives. In that post, I looked at three options, focusing primarily on the third, which I felt was the best. Check out the post below if you haven't read it and want to bring yourself up to speed. Tonight, I felt I was given a fourth option, and it has to do with the subject of control....or giving it up.
So, continuing the chai metaphor, we have first have three options when dealing with delay (there could be more, but I chose to look at three in the last post):
1)Decide you were given the wrong recipe and wasted time and resources and throw the chai out. It was all a waste. Pity.
2)Realize that you were given the right recipe, that whatever goal you were striving towards (what that chai represents) was in fact correct, but it's just going to take longer to thicken, so keep stirring. The problem here is that you can go stir crazy checking the chai and waiting for it to be ready, whatever that end goal, desire, or dream may be.
3)Get out of the kitchen for awhile and let God stir the chai (it has to be watched over or stirred, otherwise the milk will boil over) while you enjoy the other things he's prepared in the next room. He'll call you if he needs your help stirring, and he'll let you know when the chai is ready. Getting out of the kitchen helps get your mind off of what's not yet and enjoying what already is.
But here's where the fourth option comes in! Are you ready for this?
4)Realize that you were never in charge of making the chai to begin with and just trust God to complete the work from start to finish. Let go of control and just enjoy whatever chai God is making in there, because if he's the one making it, it's going to be good!
Let's look at this another way. Say you have a dream, a vision, a goal, a plan, and you really want to see that happen. You even feel like it was God-given, so it's important for you to stay the course. When things go wrong or not according to plan, if you are like me, you begin to fear that the plan was wrong all along or that you had the right plan but that you have to maintain the course in order to keep everything on track. It's God's plan, but he gave it to you to steward, so you're partly in charge, right? Right? Hmmm...How much are we really in charge of these things? Now, don't get me wrong. I do believe that we get to co-labor with God, that we partner with him in different ways to get things done, and our part is important. But with that said, if God has a specific plan for something really big in our lives, one of these pots of chai we're intent on stewing over, doesn't it stand to reason that he will accomplish it well, whether or not we are getting the full picture/recipe/whatever?
Here's another way to view it. Let us say that you view your life as a story, and you feel like you see a certain storyline about to play out that you need to keep on top of. You're on a quest, an adventure, and you can see where the story is going. But then the story begins to take a turn, and though you know detours can often lead the hero back onto the original journey, the fear sets in that you might actually find yourself at a different destination. So you remember your story, re-tell it to yourself, and convince yourself that the ending is just what you thought it would be, just what you thought you heard, even though that ending has yet to be told. Granted, sometimes, many times, I believe we are given the ending. This is what is often refer to as prophecy, and it's something I've experienced in my life: God telling me things that are yet to come, and those things happening. HOWEVER, and this is the biggie, why do we have to hold such tight control on our story in the first place? While I believe it's important to have a proper view of the story we're in (and I may write a post on that eventually), why do we have to clutch at the details to ensure we know exactly where the story is going when the narrative we expected seemingly starts to derail? I think it has to do with two words: TRUST and CONTROL.
We either TRUST the Storyteller, the one who is writing the story and causing it to unfold, or we try to CONTROL the story. Who can write the better ending? Many would say that they know the best ending to their story. I certainly feel that way about some things. But I'm realizing that if I really trust that the Storyteller, the one who is making my story and allowing me to write certain parts in myself, has my best interest in mind, then the major destination points are going to be to my benefit. He's good, and he has a GOOD story for me to live. My need to be right, to KNOW everything so precisely, will hopefully feel less important as I trust that this Writer is writing something really good for me, as he has proven to me again and again with the way other parts of the story have played out. That is not to say that there haven't been low points in the story, but all of it works together for good. (Sound familiar?)
Do I care if I got the chai recipe right? Do I care about my story ending the way that I think it should and want it to? Yes. But what if I release greater control in the process, trusting that whether or not I get every detail right, the Chai Master himself, the grand Orator, is going to serve up something that caffeinates the soul like nothing else ever could? I'm mixing metaphors, but I think you get my point. The chai, the story, is his...HIS. So we can relax and let him cook it up, write it out. We can just BE. And trust that whatever else comes along that doesn't seem to belong in the chai or add up to the right ending will somehow work out in the most masterful of ways.
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it." -Isaiah 55:8-11
"
Showing posts with label Chai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chai. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Saturday, May 24, 2014
What to Do When The Chai's Not Ready...or How to Deal with Delay
Have you ever been waiting for something, then realized in the process that the thing that you're waiting for may take a lot longer than you had planned? Have you ever been so sure about something and felt so confident about your timing, then realized that whatever you had been brooding over would not necessarily be finished in the time you had allotted? Let's get more practical here. What are you to do, when you've been confidently pursuing a goal, a direction, perhaps a promise from God---if you believe like me that God speaks to humans---and you suddenly find yourself on a steep slope of indefinite delay? While I do not claim to have all of the answers, I do feel like I reached a breakthrough in this area this morning, and I'm eager to share it with you.
I was talking to God about this---actually, I've been talking to him a lot about this off and on---and this morning, I felt like he gave me a helpful key. First, let's look at two that I'm finding not so helpful. I'm going to frame this with the metaphor of chai, since that's how Jesus spoke to me this morning.
Imagine that you're making a big pot of chai, and you plan for it to be your best chai yet. You're confident about the recipe, the ingredients are fresh and in order, and as you proceed with each step, the aroma of the heavenly brew begins to stimulate your senses! "This is going to be an amazing chai!" you might say. You know that it's going to take some time, as it's a huge pot of chai, and the spices need to simmer long enough for their potent qualities to permeate the golden liquid. So you wait, you stir, you give it the time it needs, and more and more, the manifestation of chai becomes apparent before your eyes. It's time to remove the spices and pour in the milk! (I skipped the description of the previous steps, such as brewing the tea, so as not to turn this into a post on how to make chai.) Fast-forward. The beloved substance before you now looks like chai and smells like chai, and you've given it enough time, seemingly, for more of the water to boil out such that the milk takes its proper place to create a creamy consistency. The consistency should be right by now, so the spices can be removed and the sugar added. But wait! It's not thick enough yet! It's too watery! All of this time, and it's still not ready? What are we to do?
There are two options, no three, for how to proceed in the face of disappointing delay.
Option 1: Give up on the chai all together, concluding that the recipe was all wrong, and all of the time, energy, and ingredients invested were spent on a lost cause. You got it wrong. Pour out your progress, and count your losses, since you don't believe more time will really help. The recipe's wrong, remember?
Option 2: Keep believing, keep stirring, just give that chai more time, and test the consistency periodically to know when it's ready for the next stage. You got the recipe right...it's just going to take more time than you thought. Stick with it, thirsty for chai though you may be, and neglectful as you might operate towards the other needs in your day.
I'll share Option 3 right after I expound on these first two. Option 1 is in some regard, the safest route, since if the recipe is indeed wrong, more time is not necessarily going to help things. It will just end up in more wasted time and greater disappointment after further hope and time were invested. But it's also the most wasteful option if indeed the recipe turns out to be right and what's needed really is more time. Option 2 is a good bet, as on many occasions, more time and patience is what's needed, though the fast pace of a high-speed, instant-everything society can make that difficult. Even so, if the recipe is right, then the ingredients are fine, and it's important to give the process its due.
But there's a problem with Option 2. Continuing with the metaphor of chai-making, this second option keeps one stirring and staring at the brew that is becoming, leaving the maker very thirsty and wanting in the process, and neglecting other needful activities that would have otherwise made for a very good day. You've heard the term "stir-crazy?" Well, I'd say that in some cases, that's an appropriate descriptor of what this option can do to a maker of chai who does not know how long it will be until the consistency is right. Having made many chai's myself, I know what it's like to stew in front of the pot, stirring, waiting, checking, tasting, waiting some more...And the thing about chai is that you can't simply leave it to simmer on its own, not the way I do it anyway. Somebody MUST remain with the pot at all times, lest the milk get too hot and boil over. But we don't want to go stir-crazy either, do we? So what's the solution? That's where Option 3 comes into play! Ready?
Option 3: Continue stirring for a bit, realizing that the recipe is right---you didn't get it wrong---and it's just going to need more time, and when God comes walking into the kitchen, offering to take your place at the stove, gladly accept his offer. Here's how I see this playing out between him and me or him and you:
God: Hey, it smells good!
You/Me: Yeah, I thought it was going to be a really good chai, but I don't know now.
God: My recipe's good. And I saw you getting everything ready. You're gonna be fine. Just give it some more time.
You/Me: That's what I was thinking too, that it just needs more time, and I should just be patient. But I don't know. I'm going stir-crazy here standing in front of this stove! I smell the chai, and I see it's going to be good, but I can't have it right now. And I'm really ready for some caffeination!
God: Why don't you let me take your place here, and mosey on into the living room. I made you some tea there, some of your favorite, and there's some shortbread for you too. Go. Take a rest. I'll let you know when this is ready. It's my recipe anyway, remember? You go and relax. Chai is supposed to be life-giving, not soul-sucking.
You/Me: Ain't that the truth? Okay, God. Thanks for taking over. Let me know if you want me to come back and stir some more.
God: Will do! Enjoy!
So, what does this look like practically? There are obviously different ramifications for whatever your particular situation is and depending upon what your particular chai is in this case. But I think these tips are fair across the board:
1. Get out of the kitchen for awhile. Find some space where you're not looking at and smelling the aromas of the chai that's just not ready yet. (In reality, that would be very difficult if making true chai in a small space, but perhaps your living space is larger than mine. This is where the metaphor breaks down, but ah well.)
2. Enjoy the tea that's already brewed and whatever treats are available to soothe your hunger. I find that God is always preparing something for the future, so what did he prepare in the past that finds its future present today? That last question might have felt like a quandry in time travel, so here it is another way: If something's not ready to enjoy right now, what IS ready? What is around you that is perfect for this present season? Go invest in that. The chai will continue to brew, and God will tell you when it's ready or when he wants your help again in the making.
3. The best things take time. Good chai cannot be rushed. Neither can the richest gifts that God wants to give us. If there's tremendous delay, it might just mean that the end result is going to be better than you thought. A baby takes 9 months to grow in the mother's womb, and even after birth, it still has a lot of growing to do. But it's always becoming more complete, its richness revealed layers at a time. Enjoy the process. But if the process is maddening, go back to suggestions 1 and 2 above. :-)
I myself am a dreamer. I don't typically go for the mediocre, which means that I go for the biggest adventures instead, the greatest desires. A great story, however, often requires many chapters, and that will unfortunately involve some delay. But which story would you rather be living? Or to go back to our chai metaphor, which brew would you rather be drinking? Watery and weak, or the creamy and rich, that most beloved substance? I'll take the latter...and I'll gladly let God stir...so I don't go crazy. Won't you join me in the other room for some tea and cookies in the meantime?
P.S. If you would like a soundtrack for this post, listen to the song "Run" by Collective Soul.
I was talking to God about this---actually, I've been talking to him a lot about this off and on---and this morning, I felt like he gave me a helpful key. First, let's look at two that I'm finding not so helpful. I'm going to frame this with the metaphor of chai, since that's how Jesus spoke to me this morning.
Imagine that you're making a big pot of chai, and you plan for it to be your best chai yet. You're confident about the recipe, the ingredients are fresh and in order, and as you proceed with each step, the aroma of the heavenly brew begins to stimulate your senses! "This is going to be an amazing chai!" you might say. You know that it's going to take some time, as it's a huge pot of chai, and the spices need to simmer long enough for their potent qualities to permeate the golden liquid. So you wait, you stir, you give it the time it needs, and more and more, the manifestation of chai becomes apparent before your eyes. It's time to remove the spices and pour in the milk! (I skipped the description of the previous steps, such as brewing the tea, so as not to turn this into a post on how to make chai.) Fast-forward. The beloved substance before you now looks like chai and smells like chai, and you've given it enough time, seemingly, for more of the water to boil out such that the milk takes its proper place to create a creamy consistency. The consistency should be right by now, so the spices can be removed and the sugar added. But wait! It's not thick enough yet! It's too watery! All of this time, and it's still not ready? What are we to do?
There are two options, no three, for how to proceed in the face of disappointing delay.
Option 1: Give up on the chai all together, concluding that the recipe was all wrong, and all of the time, energy, and ingredients invested were spent on a lost cause. You got it wrong. Pour out your progress, and count your losses, since you don't believe more time will really help. The recipe's wrong, remember?
Option 2: Keep believing, keep stirring, just give that chai more time, and test the consistency periodically to know when it's ready for the next stage. You got the recipe right...it's just going to take more time than you thought. Stick with it, thirsty for chai though you may be, and neglectful as you might operate towards the other needs in your day.
I'll share Option 3 right after I expound on these first two. Option 1 is in some regard, the safest route, since if the recipe is indeed wrong, more time is not necessarily going to help things. It will just end up in more wasted time and greater disappointment after further hope and time were invested. But it's also the most wasteful option if indeed the recipe turns out to be right and what's needed really is more time. Option 2 is a good bet, as on many occasions, more time and patience is what's needed, though the fast pace of a high-speed, instant-everything society can make that difficult. Even so, if the recipe is right, then the ingredients are fine, and it's important to give the process its due.
But there's a problem with Option 2. Continuing with the metaphor of chai-making, this second option keeps one stirring and staring at the brew that is becoming, leaving the maker very thirsty and wanting in the process, and neglecting other needful activities that would have otherwise made for a very good day. You've heard the term "stir-crazy?" Well, I'd say that in some cases, that's an appropriate descriptor of what this option can do to a maker of chai who does not know how long it will be until the consistency is right. Having made many chai's myself, I know what it's like to stew in front of the pot, stirring, waiting, checking, tasting, waiting some more...And the thing about chai is that you can't simply leave it to simmer on its own, not the way I do it anyway. Somebody MUST remain with the pot at all times, lest the milk get too hot and boil over. But we don't want to go stir-crazy either, do we? So what's the solution? That's where Option 3 comes into play! Ready?
Option 3: Continue stirring for a bit, realizing that the recipe is right---you didn't get it wrong---and it's just going to need more time, and when God comes walking into the kitchen, offering to take your place at the stove, gladly accept his offer. Here's how I see this playing out between him and me or him and you:
God: Hey, it smells good!
You/Me: Yeah, I thought it was going to be a really good chai, but I don't know now.
God: My recipe's good. And I saw you getting everything ready. You're gonna be fine. Just give it some more time.
You/Me: That's what I was thinking too, that it just needs more time, and I should just be patient. But I don't know. I'm going stir-crazy here standing in front of this stove! I smell the chai, and I see it's going to be good, but I can't have it right now. And I'm really ready for some caffeination!
God: Why don't you let me take your place here, and mosey on into the living room. I made you some tea there, some of your favorite, and there's some shortbread for you too. Go. Take a rest. I'll let you know when this is ready. It's my recipe anyway, remember? You go and relax. Chai is supposed to be life-giving, not soul-sucking.
You/Me: Ain't that the truth? Okay, God. Thanks for taking over. Let me know if you want me to come back and stir some more.
God: Will do! Enjoy!
So, what does this look like practically? There are obviously different ramifications for whatever your particular situation is and depending upon what your particular chai is in this case. But I think these tips are fair across the board:
1. Get out of the kitchen for awhile. Find some space where you're not looking at and smelling the aromas of the chai that's just not ready yet. (In reality, that would be very difficult if making true chai in a small space, but perhaps your living space is larger than mine. This is where the metaphor breaks down, but ah well.)
2. Enjoy the tea that's already brewed and whatever treats are available to soothe your hunger. I find that God is always preparing something for the future, so what did he prepare in the past that finds its future present today? That last question might have felt like a quandry in time travel, so here it is another way: If something's not ready to enjoy right now, what IS ready? What is around you that is perfect for this present season? Go invest in that. The chai will continue to brew, and God will tell you when it's ready or when he wants your help again in the making.
3. The best things take time. Good chai cannot be rushed. Neither can the richest gifts that God wants to give us. If there's tremendous delay, it might just mean that the end result is going to be better than you thought. A baby takes 9 months to grow in the mother's womb, and even after birth, it still has a lot of growing to do. But it's always becoming more complete, its richness revealed layers at a time. Enjoy the process. But if the process is maddening, go back to suggestions 1 and 2 above. :-)
I myself am a dreamer. I don't typically go for the mediocre, which means that I go for the biggest adventures instead, the greatest desires. A great story, however, often requires many chapters, and that will unfortunately involve some delay. But which story would you rather be living? Or to go back to our chai metaphor, which brew would you rather be drinking? Watery and weak, or the creamy and rich, that most beloved substance? I'll take the latter...and I'll gladly let God stir...so I don't go crazy. Won't you join me in the other room for some tea and cookies in the meantime?
P.S. If you would like a soundtrack for this post, listen to the song "Run" by Collective Soul.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Caffeinated by a King or The Joy of Getting Over Yourself
What do you think when you hear this phrase? "Oh, just get over yourself!" Does it offend your deep sense of individual entitlement, the petting of ego that most Westerners are so accustomed to? Or is it liberating?
This morning, as I was reading and trying to hear from God, I felt like he said just that, albeit in nicer terms: "Get over yourself, David, and onto me, onto others, and you'll find more of what you need." I love it when he does that--you know--the counter-intuitive "I'm God, so I can say things that normally wouldn't make sense but they actually do 'cause I said them" way of going about things. Yes, some of you know exactly what I'm talking about and are smiling as you read this.
Anyhow, as I thought about this more, dialoguing with God in my head and heart, I began to taste freedom and joy.
"Freedom from what?" you may ask.
Having just moved across the United States to one of the biggest, craziest cities in America, there has been a lot of self-reflection and focus on getting my needs met. This is quite natural for anyone who has just moved somewhere, as there's a lot to think about pertaining to self: "How can I get this setup? Where can I plug into community? How long will it be 'til I feel settled here? Am I investing in the right activities and the right people? Is this or that a proper use of my time?" I, I, I, my, my my. Makes sense, right? There's nothing wrong with being there for awhile. But to stay there...oh, to stay in that self-focused state, that's the trap.
Before I moved here, in asking God for any strategies that might be helpful in getting settled, here's what I sensed him telling me. It caught me by surprise: "David, when you get to New York, don't think about how you can find community for yourself. Instead, think about how you can create community for others, and in that, you'll find what you need."
Wow. Total Jesus-Yoda moment (of course, he didn't phrase it in "Community you shall find, when community you make" but you get the idea). And I was thinking about this further this morning. The more that we focus on self, the more we become concerned with our own personal lack, and it's easy to forget about serving others. On the flip-side, as we serve others, we can begin to get our minds off of our own felt-needs, find a new level of release from those needs, and hopefully realize our needs getting met in the context of community as we seek to meet the needs of others.
Paul said it this way in a letter he wrote to this church in a city called Philippi: "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. -Philippians 2:3-4 ESV
(Funny enough, this was the verse of the day on a site I visit often called "Bible Gateway." It seems there's a theme to this day.)
"Count others more significant than yourselves?" Really? I have read this verse multiple times before, and it always challenges me. But when I get down to the brass tacks of it, it make sense. I remember a very talented musician and speaker in a church I was a part of once breaking this down saying that if we were really mostly concerned about meeting the needs of others in the context of intentional, loving community, then no one would really need to worry about his or her needs getting met, and everyone would be covered. (Thank you, Shae Cottar. This has stuck with me for years, now.)
I think the problem comes when we begin to think about how community, God, or the world at large might fail us if we do just that, as it kind of takes the "other," whoever that other might be, in order to make this work. And we've all experienced the failure of others, right? Likewise, we know all too well our own propensity to drop the ball when it comes to serving someone else.
But what if we didn't have to fear? What if---let's say, we could take our focus off of ourselves in such a way that we could really make life more about serving someone else above our own interests, KNOWING with FULL CONFIDENCE that our needs would be cared for. (I am not advocating an abdication of personal responsibility or a lack of awareness of our individual role to play in our own lives. I take that as a given as responsible adults. I'm rather trying to combat an extreme.) What if we could rely on something or someone totally reliable, knowing we'd be taken care of every single time?
Some of you can see where I'm going with this, and I don't mean for this to come off as some sort of bait-and-switch blog post. My destination of thought, however, is that God is the one who can and will meet our needs if we let him, and he'll even use other people, unreliable, fickle others to do so as we get our focus off of ourselves and onto him and others. I've experienced this time and again.
Jesus, addressing a crowd of worriers who had even more immediate reason to worry about their needs being met than most of us do, said,
"So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." -Matthew 6:31-34
Note the word "kingdom." Jesus speaks about seeking the KINGDOM of God, which in my mind denotes two things: there is a king in this domain (king-dom...king's domain), and there is a community, the kingdom. What is a king and a king's domain without subjects to enjoy in that domain? So as we are seeking first this kingdom (and the righteousness that Jesus speaks of), I think it is a call of liberation, to focus on God, the King, who is the true center of all things and on building up others in that kingdom. If we are centered on God and on others, we are properly oriented. If, however, we make ourselves the center, how disorienting that can be! (Most of us can't even sustain the same emotional center through the span of a day by our own volition. So how could we ever act as our own anchor?)
If that word "righteousness" in the above quote throws you off any or causes you more anxiety by putting the focus back on yourself and how "you need to be more righteous," I would hope allay your concern by suggesting that even that issue is covered by the one who calls us to focus on himself. It's my belief that Jesus calls us to focus on the kingdom of God and his righteousness as a call to relief, since it is after all HIS righteousness that we are to seek, not something originating from ourselves.
It's like a free cup of chai. He made it, it originates with him, yet we have to seek it, put out our hand and drink it in as he willingly offers it to us daily. (Yeah, I had to throw the chai reference in there. You were wondering when that might come, weren't you?) And when you think about it that way, who can make the better chai, you or him? (I must admit, I make a really nice home-brewed chai, so that can be a hard metaphor for me if I think about it too literally. But Jesus IS the chai and the one who introduced me to it, so I know he'd win the contest, hands-down--my hands. He'll do the work.)
So what are we waiting for? I wonder what will happen today as the result of putting others before ourselves, focusing on a king, his kingdom, and his way of doing things...Kingdom Caffeination, baby!
This morning, as I was reading and trying to hear from God, I felt like he said just that, albeit in nicer terms: "Get over yourself, David, and onto me, onto others, and you'll find more of what you need." I love it when he does that--you know--the counter-intuitive "I'm God, so I can say things that normally wouldn't make sense but they actually do 'cause I said them" way of going about things. Yes, some of you know exactly what I'm talking about and are smiling as you read this.
Anyhow, as I thought about this more, dialoguing with God in my head and heart, I began to taste freedom and joy.
"Freedom from what?" you may ask.
Having just moved across the United States to one of the biggest, craziest cities in America, there has been a lot of self-reflection and focus on getting my needs met. This is quite natural for anyone who has just moved somewhere, as there's a lot to think about pertaining to self: "How can I get this setup? Where can I plug into community? How long will it be 'til I feel settled here? Am I investing in the right activities and the right people? Is this or that a proper use of my time?" I, I, I, my, my my. Makes sense, right? There's nothing wrong with being there for awhile. But to stay there...oh, to stay in that self-focused state, that's the trap.
Before I moved here, in asking God for any strategies that might be helpful in getting settled, here's what I sensed him telling me. It caught me by surprise: "David, when you get to New York, don't think about how you can find community for yourself. Instead, think about how you can create community for others, and in that, you'll find what you need."
Wow. Total Jesus-Yoda moment (of course, he didn't phrase it in "Community you shall find, when community you make" but you get the idea). And I was thinking about this further this morning. The more that we focus on self, the more we become concerned with our own personal lack, and it's easy to forget about serving others. On the flip-side, as we serve others, we can begin to get our minds off of our own felt-needs, find a new level of release from those needs, and hopefully realize our needs getting met in the context of community as we seek to meet the needs of others.
Paul said it this way in a letter he wrote to this church in a city called Philippi: "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. -Philippians 2:3-4 ESV
(Funny enough, this was the verse of the day on a site I visit often called "Bible Gateway." It seems there's a theme to this day.)
"Count others more significant than yourselves?" Really? I have read this verse multiple times before, and it always challenges me. But when I get down to the brass tacks of it, it make sense. I remember a very talented musician and speaker in a church I was a part of once breaking this down saying that if we were really mostly concerned about meeting the needs of others in the context of intentional, loving community, then no one would really need to worry about his or her needs getting met, and everyone would be covered. (Thank you, Shae Cottar. This has stuck with me for years, now.)
I think the problem comes when we begin to think about how community, God, or the world at large might fail us if we do just that, as it kind of takes the "other," whoever that other might be, in order to make this work. And we've all experienced the failure of others, right? Likewise, we know all too well our own propensity to drop the ball when it comes to serving someone else.
But what if we didn't have to fear? What if---let's say, we could take our focus off of ourselves in such a way that we could really make life more about serving someone else above our own interests, KNOWING with FULL CONFIDENCE that our needs would be cared for. (I am not advocating an abdication of personal responsibility or a lack of awareness of our individual role to play in our own lives. I take that as a given as responsible adults. I'm rather trying to combat an extreme.) What if we could rely on something or someone totally reliable, knowing we'd be taken care of every single time?
Some of you can see where I'm going with this, and I don't mean for this to come off as some sort of bait-and-switch blog post. My destination of thought, however, is that God is the one who can and will meet our needs if we let him, and he'll even use other people, unreliable, fickle others to do so as we get our focus off of ourselves and onto him and others. I've experienced this time and again.
Jesus, addressing a crowd of worriers who had even more immediate reason to worry about their needs being met than most of us do, said,
"So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." -Matthew 6:31-34
Note the word "kingdom." Jesus speaks about seeking the KINGDOM of God, which in my mind denotes two things: there is a king in this domain (king-dom...king's domain), and there is a community, the kingdom. What is a king and a king's domain without subjects to enjoy in that domain? So as we are seeking first this kingdom (and the righteousness that Jesus speaks of), I think it is a call of liberation, to focus on God, the King, who is the true center of all things and on building up others in that kingdom. If we are centered on God and on others, we are properly oriented. If, however, we make ourselves the center, how disorienting that can be! (Most of us can't even sustain the same emotional center through the span of a day by our own volition. So how could we ever act as our own anchor?)
If that word "righteousness" in the above quote throws you off any or causes you more anxiety by putting the focus back on yourself and how "you need to be more righteous," I would hope allay your concern by suggesting that even that issue is covered by the one who calls us to focus on himself. It's my belief that Jesus calls us to focus on the kingdom of God and his righteousness as a call to relief, since it is after all HIS righteousness that we are to seek, not something originating from ourselves.
It's like a free cup of chai. He made it, it originates with him, yet we have to seek it, put out our hand and drink it in as he willingly offers it to us daily. (Yeah, I had to throw the chai reference in there. You were wondering when that might come, weren't you?) And when you think about it that way, who can make the better chai, you or him? (I must admit, I make a really nice home-brewed chai, so that can be a hard metaphor for me if I think about it too literally. But Jesus IS the chai and the one who introduced me to it, so I know he'd win the contest, hands-down--my hands. He'll do the work.)
So what are we waiting for? I wonder what will happen today as the result of putting others before ourselves, focusing on a king, his kingdom, and his way of doing things...Kingdom Caffeination, baby!
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Forever Chai: Navigating What's Supposed to Last...When it Doesn't
Sometimes, things disappear. In fact, with time, almost all things do.
"My David, that's a bleak way to start, don't you think?"
Stick with me, and you may enjoy where this is going. It's going to get good.
A few days ago, I set up a meeting at one of the only places I know of to get good, home-brewed chai in Chicago: Safari Cup. Imagine my surprise when I arrived to an empty shell of the coffee shop that once provided by most beloved substance. (Sound familiar? Something similar happened with me in regard to Borders Cafes years ago.) The only trace of the haven where I once enjoyed such solace with my beloved beverage was a sign with the old shop's logo on the side of the building, boasting of what had been but is, alas, no longer. After some discouragement, I was actually encouraged by this stark reminder of a truth that feels very important for me to remember in this season of letting go and preparing for what's to come. That's what I want to spend some time exploring today.
I am someone who places great value on people, experiences, places, and anything else in my life that provides me with the rich flavors of life. I value these so much, in fact, that it is very hard for me to let go of them when they are longer present. Something feels irreconcilable in this, as if I could never forget these rich fountains that once flowed so beautifully and freely in my life but have stopped flowing for various reasons. In my heart, I'm longing for the eternal, as Solomon wrote in his famous book of wisdom, Ecclesiastes:
"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart..." -Ecclesiastes 3:11
Unfortunately, we live in a tension of this temporal life on earth and the promise of all things being made new through Jesus, banishing death once and for all. So what are we to do in the in between, the reality of things passing away and the equal reality of our human desire for what's beautiful to remain forever? I think the answer may have to do with one word: process.
Process implies movement. In life, there is movement from one moment to another, one stage to the next, and in order to move to, there must be a moving from. I spoke earlier about wanting to hold onto what's beautiful from the past. And while memories have their place, they are not a very sustainable place to live. A prophet named Isaiah hit this right on the nail as he was claiming to speak on God's behalf. I think God was giving the people of that old time a key to life that also applies to our lives here today. He says,
"Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland." -Isaiah 43:18-19
Did you catch that? It seems impossible to forget the past completely, especially those things which were very beautiful or even painful. Both beauty and pain can cut us so deeply. Sometimes, beauty can cause the most pain when it's no longer a present reality. And I think that's what Isaiah is getting at here. Forget the things of the past in as much as they are causing you to live in the past. There's no life there. There's no chai at Safari Cup in Chicago any longer. It's somewhere else! So take your eyes off of the rearview mirror and look ahead at the surroundings in front of you so that you can see where the chai is located now. I use the metaphor of chai, but you can insert just about anything here.
What I often do, and I think what many of us end up doing when some major, life-giving establishment no longer remains is that we fixate on the ruins, either lamenting or re-imagining what was inside, and hoping that this will somehow change things. It doesn't. The next big thing might just be across the street, or a few blocks down. Maybe it's being built so it's visibility is not the highest on your reality radar. But if we'll take our eyes off of the old thing and look up, we might just see what's coming. He says, "See, I am doing a new thing!" I love that. "SEE!" I also love that the places where God builds something new for us are often in the places that we would least expect, the places that are hitherto unexplored by us...the wilderness...the wasteland.
At the beginning of this post, I mentioned a verse from Ecclesiastes, but I specifically left off the second part of the verse, until now. Here is the full version: "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."
Beginning to end...If we can live in the present, enjoy the process, and look to the future, we won't get stuck dwelling in the past...or trying to drink chai in a building that's vacant.
"My David, that's a bleak way to start, don't you think?"
Stick with me, and you may enjoy where this is going. It's going to get good.
A few days ago, I set up a meeting at one of the only places I know of to get good, home-brewed chai in Chicago: Safari Cup. Imagine my surprise when I arrived to an empty shell of the coffee shop that once provided by most beloved substance. (Sound familiar? Something similar happened with me in regard to Borders Cafes years ago.) The only trace of the haven where I once enjoyed such solace with my beloved beverage was a sign with the old shop's logo on the side of the building, boasting of what had been but is, alas, no longer. After some discouragement, I was actually encouraged by this stark reminder of a truth that feels very important for me to remember in this season of letting go and preparing for what's to come. That's what I want to spend some time exploring today.
I am someone who places great value on people, experiences, places, and anything else in my life that provides me with the rich flavors of life. I value these so much, in fact, that it is very hard for me to let go of them when they are longer present. Something feels irreconcilable in this, as if I could never forget these rich fountains that once flowed so beautifully and freely in my life but have stopped flowing for various reasons. In my heart, I'm longing for the eternal, as Solomon wrote in his famous book of wisdom, Ecclesiastes:
"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart..." -Ecclesiastes 3:11
Unfortunately, we live in a tension of this temporal life on earth and the promise of all things being made new through Jesus, banishing death once and for all. So what are we to do in the in between, the reality of things passing away and the equal reality of our human desire for what's beautiful to remain forever? I think the answer may have to do with one word: process.
Process implies movement. In life, there is movement from one moment to another, one stage to the next, and in order to move to, there must be a moving from. I spoke earlier about wanting to hold onto what's beautiful from the past. And while memories have their place, they are not a very sustainable place to live. A prophet named Isaiah hit this right on the nail as he was claiming to speak on God's behalf. I think God was giving the people of that old time a key to life that also applies to our lives here today. He says,
"Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland." -Isaiah 43:18-19
Did you catch that? It seems impossible to forget the past completely, especially those things which were very beautiful or even painful. Both beauty and pain can cut us so deeply. Sometimes, beauty can cause the most pain when it's no longer a present reality. And I think that's what Isaiah is getting at here. Forget the things of the past in as much as they are causing you to live in the past. There's no life there. There's no chai at Safari Cup in Chicago any longer. It's somewhere else! So take your eyes off of the rearview mirror and look ahead at the surroundings in front of you so that you can see where the chai is located now. I use the metaphor of chai, but you can insert just about anything here.
What I often do, and I think what many of us end up doing when some major, life-giving establishment no longer remains is that we fixate on the ruins, either lamenting or re-imagining what was inside, and hoping that this will somehow change things. It doesn't. The next big thing might just be across the street, or a few blocks down. Maybe it's being built so it's visibility is not the highest on your reality radar. But if we'll take our eyes off of the old thing and look up, we might just see what's coming. He says, "See, I am doing a new thing!" I love that. "SEE!" I also love that the places where God builds something new for us are often in the places that we would least expect, the places that are hitherto unexplored by us...the wilderness...the wasteland.
At the beginning of this post, I mentioned a verse from Ecclesiastes, but I specifically left off the second part of the verse, until now. Here is the full version: "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."
Beginning to end...If we can live in the present, enjoy the process, and look to the future, we won't get stuck dwelling in the past...or trying to drink chai in a building that's vacant.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Gatsby, Love, Death, and the Elusive, Green Light
Last night I saw Baz Luhrmann's mesmerizing film adaptation of The Great Gatsby, and given the state of transition that I find myself in currently, the film struck many chords in my heart and mind on multiple levels. I was particularly impacted by what the film seemed to say about the perils of holding to the past too tightly in an attempt to prolong something that is no longer relevant to the present. This I would like to explore with some thoughts from my own musings with God in the Bible the past few days, and a U2 reference thrown in for good measure. If this sounds like interesting food for thought, please, join me as I digress.
For those of you familiar with the book by F. Scott Fitzgerald or who have recently seen the new film adaption (or the old one, for that matter, though I don't know how good it is), the affluent Gatsby spends an incredible amount of time, thought, and personal resource towards reclaiming a past love that in his mind is meant to be his again. (Spoiler alert, important info coming up, fyi.) However, as the story unfolds and Gatsby's plans play themselves out, he is left with little more than a fleeting phantom of the love that he once shared with the ethereal yet earth-bound Daisy. Ultimately, Gatsby's attempts to recreate and reform a fractured past disintegrate in a beautifully tragic sequence of his great love retreating back into herself, away from Gatsby and the subsequent death of our tragic hero. Were this a Greek tragedy, we might say that hope, while his greatest strength, also turned out to be Gatsby's tragic flaw, the hamartia leading to the hero's impending death. Much like Gatsby's fixation upon the green light across the water, flashing on and off in the distance signaling the hope of a dream deferred yet sought after again, so also the object of his desire in Daisy proved to be a waning light, on, then off, beckoning in the distance, yet never to remain steady.
Okay, are you depressed yet? If so, this is not my intent, but I suppose you may be feeling the weight of the above scenario as I am as I write this. Thus, I would like to introduce the hope. If hope can be a flaw, a hope to reclaim a past that is no longer supposed to be or able to be, then where is the place for present hope? I believe it comes in putting the past to death and beginning a new journey, letting the green light fade, and finding a new direction in which to focus one's gaze. Some may take this to mean something relationally, as if I were implying that this is simply about saying goodbye to and old season of love and finding a new object of affection to fixate upon. While this can certainly be the case, I think the concept of hope in a new direction applies in a much broader way. It has to do with new experiences, a new ways of living, being, new environments and circumstances, and a willingness to leave the familiars of the past in order to step into these fresh gifts with eyes and heart clear and open. We've got to leave the state that U2 so poignantly sings about with in their album All That You Can't Leave Behind: "You've got to get yourself together. You got stuck in a moment, and you can't get out of it."
I was in a food establishment recently where I had heard the chai was most excellent, and the time of day finally allowed me test that mettle of this praise. To my great delight, the accolade that this chai had received was well deserved, and I felt supremely blessed to have to found another good place in Chicago to enjoy really GOOD chai (something the quality of which is quite hard to find in a restaurant or cafe). Why do I bring this up? Well, in this time, I was reminded of the rewards that can come with risk in seeking out new avenues of sustenance, new environments and opportunities to engage with which can sometimes only be experienced if one is willing to step out of a comfort zone and risk the disappointment or pleasure that the unfamiliar may provide. In this case, the unfamiliar was Native Foods Cafe, a place that I was familiar with in so far as their Vegan chili (Vegan though I am not), yet not certain as to whether or not the chai would meet my expectations. I am thankful that it did. In that same environment, I was also met with another experience which further affirmed this venture into change. The waitress asked me later if I wanted a refill, to which I replied, "Surely it is not a free refill since it is chai, right?" I was pleasantly mistaken, and upon savoring the substance of another round of that heavenly liquid, I thought how in life God also provides us re-fills once our cup is empty (or almost empty), and how in order for a refill to take place, an emptying to some degree must precede it.
Empty your cup. Give it to Jesus for a refill. The old was good, but it's gone. Time for something fresh. New light. New, green light.........GO.
“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; otherwise the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear results.22“No one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost and the skins as well; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.” -Jesus, in Mark 2:21-22
"You've got to get yourself together.
You've got stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it.
Don't say that later will be better.
Now you're stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it." - U2, from their album All That You Can't Leave Behind
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning-- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
For those of you familiar with the book by F. Scott Fitzgerald or who have recently seen the new film adaption (or the old one, for that matter, though I don't know how good it is), the affluent Gatsby spends an incredible amount of time, thought, and personal resource towards reclaiming a past love that in his mind is meant to be his again. (Spoiler alert, important info coming up, fyi.) However, as the story unfolds and Gatsby's plans play themselves out, he is left with little more than a fleeting phantom of the love that he once shared with the ethereal yet earth-bound Daisy. Ultimately, Gatsby's attempts to recreate and reform a fractured past disintegrate in a beautifully tragic sequence of his great love retreating back into herself, away from Gatsby and the subsequent death of our tragic hero. Were this a Greek tragedy, we might say that hope, while his greatest strength, also turned out to be Gatsby's tragic flaw, the hamartia leading to the hero's impending death. Much like Gatsby's fixation upon the green light across the water, flashing on and off in the distance signaling the hope of a dream deferred yet sought after again, so also the object of his desire in Daisy proved to be a waning light, on, then off, beckoning in the distance, yet never to remain steady.
Okay, are you depressed yet? If so, this is not my intent, but I suppose you may be feeling the weight of the above scenario as I am as I write this. Thus, I would like to introduce the hope. If hope can be a flaw, a hope to reclaim a past that is no longer supposed to be or able to be, then where is the place for present hope? I believe it comes in putting the past to death and beginning a new journey, letting the green light fade, and finding a new direction in which to focus one's gaze. Some may take this to mean something relationally, as if I were implying that this is simply about saying goodbye to and old season of love and finding a new object of affection to fixate upon. While this can certainly be the case, I think the concept of hope in a new direction applies in a much broader way. It has to do with new experiences, a new ways of living, being, new environments and circumstances, and a willingness to leave the familiars of the past in order to step into these fresh gifts with eyes and heart clear and open. We've got to leave the state that U2 so poignantly sings about with in their album All That You Can't Leave Behind: "You've got to get yourself together. You got stuck in a moment, and you can't get out of it."
I was in a food establishment recently where I had heard the chai was most excellent, and the time of day finally allowed me test that mettle of this praise. To my great delight, the accolade that this chai had received was well deserved, and I felt supremely blessed to have to found another good place in Chicago to enjoy really GOOD chai (something the quality of which is quite hard to find in a restaurant or cafe). Why do I bring this up? Well, in this time, I was reminded of the rewards that can come with risk in seeking out new avenues of sustenance, new environments and opportunities to engage with which can sometimes only be experienced if one is willing to step out of a comfort zone and risk the disappointment or pleasure that the unfamiliar may provide. In this case, the unfamiliar was Native Foods Cafe, a place that I was familiar with in so far as their Vegan chili (Vegan though I am not), yet not certain as to whether or not the chai would meet my expectations. I am thankful that it did. In that same environment, I was also met with another experience which further affirmed this venture into change. The waitress asked me later if I wanted a refill, to which I replied, "Surely it is not a free refill since it is chai, right?" I was pleasantly mistaken, and upon savoring the substance of another round of that heavenly liquid, I thought how in life God also provides us re-fills once our cup is empty (or almost empty), and how in order for a refill to take place, an emptying to some degree must precede it.
Empty your cup. Give it to Jesus for a refill. The old was good, but it's gone. Time for something fresh. New light. New, green light.........GO.
“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; otherwise the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear results.22“No one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost and the skins as well; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.” -Jesus, in Mark 2:21-22
"You've got to get yourself together.
You've got stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it.
Don't say that later will be better.
Now you're stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it." - U2, from their album All That You Can't Leave Behind
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning-- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Friday, March 29, 2013
The LOVE of God
Love. Romance. Passion. God? "One of these things is not like the other..." Or is it?
Today I want to explore the parallels between human romance and the love of God. I am not planning to cover the various categories of love and their distinctions (for that, I highly recommend The Four Loves in which C.S. Lewis has done an excellent job). Instead, I'd like to take some observations that I've made from own recent romance and how I believe they apply to God's love for us. When I say God, I refer to Jesus, Holy Spirit, and of course, the Father, whom many in the Judeo-Christian world often think of as "God." I am using God as a blanket statement for all three persons of this trinity as I see him. So, let's begin!
I don't typically use bullet points for my blog posts, but bullets seem fitting for this one. So here are a few observations I've made on the connection between romantic love and God's love for us human beings.
1. Love creates a deep longing to be with the other. In my own romantic relationship, I have noticed a growing desire to spend loads and loads of time with the woman I adore. Her presence is somehow life-giving such that I feel parts of myself coming more alive when I am around her. Of course, the same could be said for how some of us feel about our relationship with God, that his presence is life-giving, and that seems to be a common experience for many whom I talk to who are engaging in an active relationship with God. However, how many of us have thought about our presence as being life-giving to God and him craving to be in relationship with us? The more that I grow in my own relationship with my girlfriend, the more I am convinced that God longs to be with those whom he loves, and he will go at great lengths to make that happen. Look at the cross, for starters. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, Jesus, that whoever believes in him should not be lost in death but experience life eternal, continually in God's presence for all time."-John 3:16 (paraphrase mine) Yes, I daresay God went to great lengths to spend time with his love and that he goes to great lengths still, though this was the most dramatic, costly and clear demonstration of such love. Amazing. How many of us would give the life of our own pet, much less our own flesh and blood (or ourselves for that matter) to create the opportunity for fellowship with those who might not even love us back? Wow.
2. Love does crazy things, especially when it comes to TIME. I have already touched on one of the crazy things that love has done as relates to God, namely that love makes incredible sacrifices to spend time with the loved one, but how does this translate to one's use of time? It has been my experience that when I am with the one I adore, my awareness of or value for my own time easily goes out the window! I enjoy spending time with this girl so much that one or two hours can easily turn into 4 or 5 without me even realizing that so much time has passed. And the funny thing is that I rarely care that I have continued in fellowship longer than I had intended or planned. The only drawback is that it often means less sleep if I have to wake up early for work the next morning, but even then, this is a sacrifice that feels worth it given the life-giving benefit of spending time with such a beautiful creature. And isn't it the same way with God? I don't know about you, but I have found that God often likes to do things way past the timeframe that I gave him to do it in. For instance, when I was in Edinburgh, Scotland several years ago with a group of internationals to share Jesus with the people of Edinburgh Fringe Fest, I recall getting ready for bed one evening, thinking that the best of the day was behind us, and we'd better get our sleep to prepare for what God might have planned the next day. Apparently, God wasn't finished yet, though it must have been 1:00 in the morning when we felt compelled to pray some group members present. And God did some AMAZING things in that prayer time! I thought, "God, you're crazy! Shouldn't we be getting sleep?" And yes, sometimes we should be. But I find that God is much more of a late person than some of us are at times. So I have begun to try throwing out so many parameters of time when it comes to my own pursuit of God, deciding on occasion to simply "waste time" on him, if it can be called a waste at all. He's worth being pursued. And he loves to pursue us. So why not, even if it's 1:00 in the morning? (The Genesis Creation Story points to each day starting the night before, anyway.)
3. Love is a lavish gift giver. I am betting that many of you reading this right now have also read or heard of a book called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. (If you haven't, I highly recommend it.) In that book, Chapman refers to different ways in which we as human beings like to express and receive love from one another, whereby certain forms, or "love languages," are preferential to others based on the person. One of my love languages is that of GIFTS! Whenever I receive or give gifts, I feel that something very special is being imparted. Does it have to do with the gift itself? For me, not so much. It is the thought behind it and the fact that somebody, whether God or an actual human being, wants to surprise me (or if I am giving the gift, that I get to surprise someone on the receiving end)! In a romantic context, I have discovered the utter joy of having a gift prepared with a delivery date that the receiver knows nothing about. The gift is in motion, I have paid for it and arranged for its delivery, but it has yet to arrive. And the anticipation I have felt is so great that it is hard for me to keep my mouth shut about the surprise that is coming. This caused me to recognize something about the love of God and his incredibly generous character. God has so much in store for his loved ones, much of which has a designated delivery date some time in the future which we are almost always in the dark about. Often, I myself whine about such gifts, having asked God to bless me with something (a romantic relationship, for example, which he finally did! And when he did, it was primo!) yet not seeing them coming fast enough and wondering if he forgot about me. All the while, God is on the other end going, "I've ordered it! It's coming! It's not there yet, but I know when it's going to arrive. I'm getting it ready, so just wait! It's on its way!!!" This kind of perspective, recognizing that God is eagerly anticipating blessing me in some way, though he and I will both have to wait for its arrival due to factors often unseen by me, has helped me to love God even more and to realize that he is not holding out on me. He's just much more patient. ;-) Of course, sometimes God can't even keep his surprises to himself and gives us a snippet of what he's bringing to us. One example of this is in Isaiah 42:9 when God was telling the Israelites about some incredible things he was about to do: "See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you." If intimacy grows through confiding in one another, then this is surely one of God's ways of developing his love relationship with us.
I was going to list more axioms of romantic and divine love here, but given the specialness of the number 3, I will stop at that. For those of you who have mused on such lovely connections as these, I would love to read your thoughts. Perhaps I will write a second part to this exploration. For those of you reading this and going, "What? Is he crazy? I've never experienced God in that way, not in a tangible, romantic sense," I encourage you that such a crazy, loving God exists, and he is most clearly seen through the person of Jesus! As I write this on Good Friday, the downward/upward slope to Easter, I urge you to drink what the Giver of Chai is offering. He is not relegated to boring, religious ritual (though religious ritual can certainly help seekers and believers to experience God's presence.) He is, instead, a living, breathing, romantic who desires to drink a cup of chai (or coffee, if that floats your boat) with you. Won't you join him and let him caffeinate your soul? He longs for you and for the incredibly caffeinated, soothing drink that you are. The cross says it all.
Today I want to explore the parallels between human romance and the love of God. I am not planning to cover the various categories of love and their distinctions (for that, I highly recommend The Four Loves in which C.S. Lewis has done an excellent job). Instead, I'd like to take some observations that I've made from own recent romance and how I believe they apply to God's love for us. When I say God, I refer to Jesus, Holy Spirit, and of course, the Father, whom many in the Judeo-Christian world often think of as "God." I am using God as a blanket statement for all three persons of this trinity as I see him. So, let's begin!
I don't typically use bullet points for my blog posts, but bullets seem fitting for this one. So here are a few observations I've made on the connection between romantic love and God's love for us human beings.
1. Love creates a deep longing to be with the other. In my own romantic relationship, I have noticed a growing desire to spend loads and loads of time with the woman I adore. Her presence is somehow life-giving such that I feel parts of myself coming more alive when I am around her. Of course, the same could be said for how some of us feel about our relationship with God, that his presence is life-giving, and that seems to be a common experience for many whom I talk to who are engaging in an active relationship with God. However, how many of us have thought about our presence as being life-giving to God and him craving to be in relationship with us? The more that I grow in my own relationship with my girlfriend, the more I am convinced that God longs to be with those whom he loves, and he will go at great lengths to make that happen. Look at the cross, for starters. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, Jesus, that whoever believes in him should not be lost in death but experience life eternal, continually in God's presence for all time."-John 3:16 (paraphrase mine) Yes, I daresay God went to great lengths to spend time with his love and that he goes to great lengths still, though this was the most dramatic, costly and clear demonstration of such love. Amazing. How many of us would give the life of our own pet, much less our own flesh and blood (or ourselves for that matter) to create the opportunity for fellowship with those who might not even love us back? Wow.
2. Love does crazy things, especially when it comes to TIME. I have already touched on one of the crazy things that love has done as relates to God, namely that love makes incredible sacrifices to spend time with the loved one, but how does this translate to one's use of time? It has been my experience that when I am with the one I adore, my awareness of or value for my own time easily goes out the window! I enjoy spending time with this girl so much that one or two hours can easily turn into 4 or 5 without me even realizing that so much time has passed. And the funny thing is that I rarely care that I have continued in fellowship longer than I had intended or planned. The only drawback is that it often means less sleep if I have to wake up early for work the next morning, but even then, this is a sacrifice that feels worth it given the life-giving benefit of spending time with such a beautiful creature. And isn't it the same way with God? I don't know about you, but I have found that God often likes to do things way past the timeframe that I gave him to do it in. For instance, when I was in Edinburgh, Scotland several years ago with a group of internationals to share Jesus with the people of Edinburgh Fringe Fest, I recall getting ready for bed one evening, thinking that the best of the day was behind us, and we'd better get our sleep to prepare for what God might have planned the next day. Apparently, God wasn't finished yet, though it must have been 1:00 in the morning when we felt compelled to pray some group members present. And God did some AMAZING things in that prayer time! I thought, "God, you're crazy! Shouldn't we be getting sleep?" And yes, sometimes we should be. But I find that God is much more of a late person than some of us are at times. So I have begun to try throwing out so many parameters of time when it comes to my own pursuit of God, deciding on occasion to simply "waste time" on him, if it can be called a waste at all. He's worth being pursued. And he loves to pursue us. So why not, even if it's 1:00 in the morning? (The Genesis Creation Story points to each day starting the night before, anyway.)
3. Love is a lavish gift giver. I am betting that many of you reading this right now have also read or heard of a book called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. (If you haven't, I highly recommend it.) In that book, Chapman refers to different ways in which we as human beings like to express and receive love from one another, whereby certain forms, or "love languages," are preferential to others based on the person. One of my love languages is that of GIFTS! Whenever I receive or give gifts, I feel that something very special is being imparted. Does it have to do with the gift itself? For me, not so much. It is the thought behind it and the fact that somebody, whether God or an actual human being, wants to surprise me (or if I am giving the gift, that I get to surprise someone on the receiving end)! In a romantic context, I have discovered the utter joy of having a gift prepared with a delivery date that the receiver knows nothing about. The gift is in motion, I have paid for it and arranged for its delivery, but it has yet to arrive. And the anticipation I have felt is so great that it is hard for me to keep my mouth shut about the surprise that is coming. This caused me to recognize something about the love of God and his incredibly generous character. God has so much in store for his loved ones, much of which has a designated delivery date some time in the future which we are almost always in the dark about. Often, I myself whine about such gifts, having asked God to bless me with something (a romantic relationship, for example, which he finally did! And when he did, it was primo!) yet not seeing them coming fast enough and wondering if he forgot about me. All the while, God is on the other end going, "I've ordered it! It's coming! It's not there yet, but I know when it's going to arrive. I'm getting it ready, so just wait! It's on its way!!!" This kind of perspective, recognizing that God is eagerly anticipating blessing me in some way, though he and I will both have to wait for its arrival due to factors often unseen by me, has helped me to love God even more and to realize that he is not holding out on me. He's just much more patient. ;-) Of course, sometimes God can't even keep his surprises to himself and gives us a snippet of what he's bringing to us. One example of this is in Isaiah 42:9 when God was telling the Israelites about some incredible things he was about to do: "See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you." If intimacy grows through confiding in one another, then this is surely one of God's ways of developing his love relationship with us.
I was going to list more axioms of romantic and divine love here, but given the specialness of the number 3, I will stop at that. For those of you who have mused on such lovely connections as these, I would love to read your thoughts. Perhaps I will write a second part to this exploration. For those of you reading this and going, "What? Is he crazy? I've never experienced God in that way, not in a tangible, romantic sense," I encourage you that such a crazy, loving God exists, and he is most clearly seen through the person of Jesus! As I write this on Good Friday, the downward/upward slope to Easter, I urge you to drink what the Giver of Chai is offering. He is not relegated to boring, religious ritual (though religious ritual can certainly help seekers and believers to experience God's presence.) He is, instead, a living, breathing, romantic who desires to drink a cup of chai (or coffee, if that floats your boat) with you. Won't you join him and let him caffeinate your soul? He longs for you and for the incredibly caffeinated, soothing drink that you are. The cross says it all.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Fountains of Chai
What is a fountain? Why is it that when you or I look at a fountain, we typically respond with joy or at least appreciate the beauty of what we're beholding? I want to talk about fountains today, particularly fountains of life, or in classic David imagery, fountains of chai. So, let us indulge together.
Drinking some home-brewed chai this morning and talking to God some (moreso reading his words and letting him talk to me), I was struck by some things that feel pivotal in terms of where I and others get our source of life, well-being and joy.
So...Fountains. What's with those bubbling bodies of water (or chocolate if we get lucky)? Other than the sheer beauty that fountains possess, I think that what makes fountains most alluring is that they are a source of constant flow, and typically a continual flow of that which we all need to survive: water (or once again, chocolate, for any of you chocoholics out there). Where so many other bodies of water have the potential to dry up, diminish, or become stagnant, a fountain, at its best, is ever flowing, majestic and beckoning onlookers to behold both its rootedness as a source and its ability to grow beyond gravity.
I find that these qualities also ring true for things or people in life that we look to for a source of joy. In my life, I have friends whose fellowship and presence at times represent grounded-ness, joy, and life. Or I look to artistic passions such as writing, acting, and producing theatre to fill my needs for excitement, beauty, joy, and rootedness. None of these are bad in themselves until I begin to look to them as my primary fountains. Why? Because there is only one fountain that is primary, and the rest can easily dry out at any moment, just like the chai ceased to flow at Borders years ago (my nightmare come true).
One of my fountains has felt very dry recently, and I found myself thirsty for fresh chai. Here's what I found:
"They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights." -Psalm 36:8.
There has been a time in history where people who claimed to know God also claimed to have an experience with him that one of their writers characterized as "abundant" and as if drinking from a "river of delights." That's some strong language! Is that still available? Why would anyone speak of such a river of delights with such confidence? The answer is perhaps in the next verse of this Psalm (which was actually a song in its original form):
"For with you is the fountain of life; in your light, we see light." -Psalm 36:9.
This Psalm is a song to God, and here in verse 9, the writer of the song is referring to God as the FOUNTAIN of life, or at least saying that it resides somewhere with this God. We also see the imagery of light, which during Chicago winters, many equate to hope and joy (or a lack thereof). So with this God is a fountain (source) of life, and light which helps us to see light. Interesting words, once again.
I will not list all of the references to the well-being of soul that I have recently come across in the Psalms, but suffice to say that there are PLENTY! In learning about the soul, it seems that the soul is that place where our bodies and hearts receive nourishment, where we desperately desire love, affection, meaning, and everything that a fountain of life could possibly provide. And God is acutely aware of our souls' deep needs:
"I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place."-Psalm 31:7-8.
Moving from water to chai, a drink which caffeinates, awakens, and just plain makes me happy, So where can I get my chai that doesn't run out? What does it mean to feast on the abundance of God's house, to drink from his river of delights? If the fountain is with God, and in his light we can see light, where is that fountain and how do I get it? A woman from Samaria once had a similar conversation with God, and here's what Jesus had to say, regarding two kinds of water.
"Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again. But whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."- John 4:13-14.
Hmm...Sounds kind of like a fountain to me. Elsewhere, Jesus says that he is the equivalent to bread, and the bread of life, as if we are to get our sustenance from him just like we would get our physical sustenance from one of the most basic of foods. And he goes onto say that the person who believes in him would never go thirsty. I have to believe he was speaking about more than just physical bread and water.
What are you thirsty for? What is your chai, the thing that caffeinates you and provides your soul with a sense of invigoration and well-being? Where are your fountains? And what might it be like to drink of Jesus as the primary fountain? If Jesus' claims are true and if the experiences of these Old Testament Jewish writers are true, then something is available that must be better and richer than any normal feast or fountain could provide. I've tasted it and want more....fountains of his chai*.
"Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare." -Isaiah 55:2b
"Taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the one who takes refuge in him." -Psalm 34:8
*A friend of mine once told me that the letters "chai" also make up a Hebrew word which means "life." Bring on the chai and lots of it!
Drinking some home-brewed chai this morning and talking to God some (moreso reading his words and letting him talk to me), I was struck by some things that feel pivotal in terms of where I and others get our source of life, well-being and joy.
So...Fountains. What's with those bubbling bodies of water (or chocolate if we get lucky)? Other than the sheer beauty that fountains possess, I think that what makes fountains most alluring is that they are a source of constant flow, and typically a continual flow of that which we all need to survive: water (or once again, chocolate, for any of you chocoholics out there). Where so many other bodies of water have the potential to dry up, diminish, or become stagnant, a fountain, at its best, is ever flowing, majestic and beckoning onlookers to behold both its rootedness as a source and its ability to grow beyond gravity.
I find that these qualities also ring true for things or people in life that we look to for a source of joy. In my life, I have friends whose fellowship and presence at times represent grounded-ness, joy, and life. Or I look to artistic passions such as writing, acting, and producing theatre to fill my needs for excitement, beauty, joy, and rootedness. None of these are bad in themselves until I begin to look to them as my primary fountains. Why? Because there is only one fountain that is primary, and the rest can easily dry out at any moment, just like the chai ceased to flow at Borders years ago (my nightmare come true).
One of my fountains has felt very dry recently, and I found myself thirsty for fresh chai. Here's what I found:
"They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights." -Psalm 36:8.
There has been a time in history where people who claimed to know God also claimed to have an experience with him that one of their writers characterized as "abundant" and as if drinking from a "river of delights." That's some strong language! Is that still available? Why would anyone speak of such a river of delights with such confidence? The answer is perhaps in the next verse of this Psalm (which was actually a song in its original form):
"For with you is the fountain of life; in your light, we see light." -Psalm 36:9.
This Psalm is a song to God, and here in verse 9, the writer of the song is referring to God as the FOUNTAIN of life, or at least saying that it resides somewhere with this God. We also see the imagery of light, which during Chicago winters, many equate to hope and joy (or a lack thereof). So with this God is a fountain (source) of life, and light which helps us to see light. Interesting words, once again.
I will not list all of the references to the well-being of soul that I have recently come across in the Psalms, but suffice to say that there are PLENTY! In learning about the soul, it seems that the soul is that place where our bodies and hearts receive nourishment, where we desperately desire love, affection, meaning, and everything that a fountain of life could possibly provide. And God is acutely aware of our souls' deep needs:
"I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place."-Psalm 31:7-8.
Moving from water to chai, a drink which caffeinates, awakens, and just plain makes me happy, So where can I get my chai that doesn't run out? What does it mean to feast on the abundance of God's house, to drink from his river of delights? If the fountain is with God, and in his light we can see light, where is that fountain and how do I get it? A woman from Samaria once had a similar conversation with God, and here's what Jesus had to say, regarding two kinds of water.
"Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again. But whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."- John 4:13-14.
Hmm...Sounds kind of like a fountain to me. Elsewhere, Jesus says that he is the equivalent to bread, and the bread of life, as if we are to get our sustenance from him just like we would get our physical sustenance from one of the most basic of foods. And he goes onto say that the person who believes in him would never go thirsty. I have to believe he was speaking about more than just physical bread and water.
What are you thirsty for? What is your chai, the thing that caffeinates you and provides your soul with a sense of invigoration and well-being? Where are your fountains? And what might it be like to drink of Jesus as the primary fountain? If Jesus' claims are true and if the experiences of these Old Testament Jewish writers are true, then something is available that must be better and richer than any normal feast or fountain could provide. I've tasted it and want more....fountains of his chai*.
"Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare." -Isaiah 55:2b
"Taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the one who takes refuge in him." -Psalm 34:8
*A friend of mine once told me that the letters "chai" also make up a Hebrew word which means "life." Bring on the chai and lots of it!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Enjoying the Process (or Drinking with Jesus)
I've been feeling heavy this morning and much of yesterday as well. I've wanted to get so much done and have actually been somewhat productive but still lacking the greater results I want to see. I have been seeking God for solutions, answers, revelation. And what I got just awhile ago was so much better.
I had it all planned. I was going to wake up early today (which I did), read my Bible part of the time (which I did), and do some strategic planning with God to create more structure in my life and hopefully a more productive day-to-day lifestyle. This strategic planning hasn't happened yet. I thought A and B would lead to C, but the thing is that A and B left me high and dry. And it's not that waking up early and reading my Bible were bad things. Those are good things! But Jesus showed me that instead of searching the Scriptures for him, I was just looking for answers, solutions, results. Is that bad? Not entirely. God is full of answers. He calls us to seek wisdom, search it out, all that good stuff. But my primary motive was off. I was seeking him, but not so much for him. More of a side-thought to get what I really wanted: more clarity, more results, more progress.
As none of this was bearing any fruit (not to my knowledge anyway), I decided to pop in a CD that had a sermon on it a friend gave me from Bethel church (www.ibethel.org), the title being "Enjoying the Process." It was about how we're so results oriented in our western mindsets that we often get sidetracked from just enjoying the process with God, getting to know him, BEING with him. And I began to cry as I realized I wasn't seeking Jesus this morning as much as the results he might give me.
Here's a thought. Who of your best friends, or let's say best long-distance friends, have you had the best time with? And what are you doing in that time? Are you actually DOING something? Or is most of the good stuff happening in the being, the talking, the sharing of life? How much of what's going on, whether in person or on the phone, is instructional, and how much is simply relational? As for me, why do I feel like more often than not, if I'm gonna get something from God, it's got to be instructional? Don't get me wrong, I know the Bible speaks of God confiding in those who fear him. He makes known the paths of life, he teaches us truth, etc. But is that limited to didactic truth? Might some of that life, that truth, that knowledge include things like, "This is why I love the color green," or "You are so beautiful to me, " or "I want to share with you the joy of making a snowman" ?
Process. Jesus. Process. I don't want to just feel the effects of the caffeine pulsating through my veins, waking me up and making me happy. I want to participate in making the Chai, peeling the ginger, crushing the cardamom, watching the cinnamon sticks simmer with the black tea as it creates a lush rue before adding the creamy delight. I want to taste the tea on my tongue, embracing every spice, and swallow. I want to drink Chai with Jesus. I want to drink him in. Would you like to drink with us?
I had it all planned. I was going to wake up early today (which I did), read my Bible part of the time (which I did), and do some strategic planning with God to create more structure in my life and hopefully a more productive day-to-day lifestyle. This strategic planning hasn't happened yet. I thought A and B would lead to C, but the thing is that A and B left me high and dry. And it's not that waking up early and reading my Bible were bad things. Those are good things! But Jesus showed me that instead of searching the Scriptures for him, I was just looking for answers, solutions, results. Is that bad? Not entirely. God is full of answers. He calls us to seek wisdom, search it out, all that good stuff. But my primary motive was off. I was seeking him, but not so much for him. More of a side-thought to get what I really wanted: more clarity, more results, more progress.
As none of this was bearing any fruit (not to my knowledge anyway), I decided to pop in a CD that had a sermon on it a friend gave me from Bethel church (www.ibethel.org), the title being "Enjoying the Process." It was about how we're so results oriented in our western mindsets that we often get sidetracked from just enjoying the process with God, getting to know him, BEING with him. And I began to cry as I realized I wasn't seeking Jesus this morning as much as the results he might give me.
Here's a thought. Who of your best friends, or let's say best long-distance friends, have you had the best time with? And what are you doing in that time? Are you actually DOING something? Or is most of the good stuff happening in the being, the talking, the sharing of life? How much of what's going on, whether in person or on the phone, is instructional, and how much is simply relational? As for me, why do I feel like more often than not, if I'm gonna get something from God, it's got to be instructional? Don't get me wrong, I know the Bible speaks of God confiding in those who fear him. He makes known the paths of life, he teaches us truth, etc. But is that limited to didactic truth? Might some of that life, that truth, that knowledge include things like, "This is why I love the color green," or "You are so beautiful to me, " or "I want to share with you the joy of making a snowman" ?
Process. Jesus. Process. I don't want to just feel the effects of the caffeine pulsating through my veins, waking me up and making me happy. I want to participate in making the Chai, peeling the ginger, crushing the cardamom, watching the cinnamon sticks simmer with the black tea as it creates a lush rue before adding the creamy delight. I want to taste the tea on my tongue, embracing every spice, and swallow. I want to drink Chai with Jesus. I want to drink him in. Would you like to drink with us?
Monday, August 24, 2009
Chai for the Present
"Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy." -Psalm 126:5
A little more than a week ago, God invited me on a journey into the depths of my heart, to let go of something that had been taking root for a long, long, time. This something wasn't a bad thing, mind you. But because it doesn't belong there any longer and is taking up space where new growth should occur, it needs to be taken out. I need to let it go. And it's hard. There has been a seed of hope resting in the rich soil of pleasant memories and taking root in the hope that those memories might become present realities, or at least blossom into buds for the future. But memories aren't a good place to live.
Something that I feel God showed me this past week is that I have been sowing into the past, into something that no longer exists, which leaves little seed for the present.
Another way to look at is is through the metaphor of Chai. I used to go to Borders and get my Chai fix on a regular basis, as they sold the best Chai available in their signature Borders Cafes. Today, these Borders Cafes no longer exist. Oh, the Borders stores still serve cafe beverages, but it's a totally different cafe and thus a totally different set of drinks. They say they offer Chai, but it's not the same stuff that I grew to love and write poetry about back in the days of Borders Cafes. So back to the present. There's this hope in my heart, this longing, even a belief, that I have held onto for so long, but it's a belief that is rooted in a past reality...no longer present. Were I to hold onto that hope from the past, it would be like me hitting up today's Borders stores in the pursuit of my most beloved Chai, to no avail. Why? Because Borders doesn't serve the same Chai any more. It's a different cafe altogether, so why am I seeking what is no longer there?
Here's a nice surprise. If I leave the safe world of Borders stores (which I have), and venture into other cafes to try the various Chai's offered, maybe, just maybe I will find a Chai as good as the one I used to enjoy in the glory days of Borders Chai. Sure, I might run into a good number of counterfeit Chai's, coffee shops promising something that they can't deliver (which has often been the case in my experience), but is it worth the risk? Might I find a Chai somewhere whose divine quality resonates with the kiss of heaven? Is it possible? Is it?
It is. I have found it.
You see, last weekend while visiting the International House of Prayer in Kansas City after a friend's wedding, I stumbled upon my most beloved substance in quite an interesting way. I was in this prayer room, which was really intense, and there was a part of that intensity that I was able to enter into. But after awhile, there was a part of me that needed a rest and almost sensed God saying, "Take a rest, David. Come into the cafe with me."
I ventured into this cafe they have called "Higher Groundz" and I was struck when I found that they had three types of Chai available...no, four. I thought, "Hmmm...That's interesting. Reminds me of the Borders days." I asked them what kind of Chai they served, and the barista said it was "Big Train." Big Train. Hmmm...I thought I'd had Big Train before and wasn't impressed, but maybe I was mistaken. Let's go for it. So I went for it, and here's what happened. After sitting down with my Vanilla Chai (for that's the best there can be), I took one sip, and immediately my senses were aroused. My nose knew the aroma that can only come from sipping the beloved Borders Chai. My tongue leaped with joy inside my mouth as if it were surprised by the greeting of a very old friend. "This is Borders Chai!" I thought. "Granted, they didn't put enough of the Chai powder in there, but I daresay this is the same as Borders Chai!" I proceeded to ask the barista if he would give me more of the Chai powder to place in my drink (yes, as a matter of fact, Chai powder concentrates CAN be very good), and after stirring it in and taking another sip, I knew I had entered a sacred place. But it wasn't Borders in the present, and it wasn't Borders in the past. It was a moment in time I would have never expected to find Borders Chai, in a place I had never been and never imagined the site of such a joyful reunion.
There are surprises awaiting in the present and cups of joy abounding in the future. If I can celebrate what's past and lament the loss of what is no longer here, then I can open my heart wide for the present Chai pouring in. And I too can pour into the present, preparing a rich brew for the future.
"I am the LORD your God,
who brought you up out of Egypt.
Open wide your mouth and I will fill it." -Psalm 81:10.
will reap with songs of joy." -Psalm 126:5
A little more than a week ago, God invited me on a journey into the depths of my heart, to let go of something that had been taking root for a long, long, time. This something wasn't a bad thing, mind you. But because it doesn't belong there any longer and is taking up space where new growth should occur, it needs to be taken out. I need to let it go. And it's hard. There has been a seed of hope resting in the rich soil of pleasant memories and taking root in the hope that those memories might become present realities, or at least blossom into buds for the future. But memories aren't a good place to live.
Something that I feel God showed me this past week is that I have been sowing into the past, into something that no longer exists, which leaves little seed for the present.
Another way to look at is is through the metaphor of Chai. I used to go to Borders and get my Chai fix on a regular basis, as they sold the best Chai available in their signature Borders Cafes. Today, these Borders Cafes no longer exist. Oh, the Borders stores still serve cafe beverages, but it's a totally different cafe and thus a totally different set of drinks. They say they offer Chai, but it's not the same stuff that I grew to love and write poetry about back in the days of Borders Cafes. So back to the present. There's this hope in my heart, this longing, even a belief, that I have held onto for so long, but it's a belief that is rooted in a past reality...no longer present. Were I to hold onto that hope from the past, it would be like me hitting up today's Borders stores in the pursuit of my most beloved Chai, to no avail. Why? Because Borders doesn't serve the same Chai any more. It's a different cafe altogether, so why am I seeking what is no longer there?
Here's a nice surprise. If I leave the safe world of Borders stores (which I have), and venture into other cafes to try the various Chai's offered, maybe, just maybe I will find a Chai as good as the one I used to enjoy in the glory days of Borders Chai. Sure, I might run into a good number of counterfeit Chai's, coffee shops promising something that they can't deliver (which has often been the case in my experience), but is it worth the risk? Might I find a Chai somewhere whose divine quality resonates with the kiss of heaven? Is it possible? Is it?
It is. I have found it.
You see, last weekend while visiting the International House of Prayer in Kansas City after a friend's wedding, I stumbled upon my most beloved substance in quite an interesting way. I was in this prayer room, which was really intense, and there was a part of that intensity that I was able to enter into. But after awhile, there was a part of me that needed a rest and almost sensed God saying, "Take a rest, David. Come into the cafe with me."
I ventured into this cafe they have called "Higher Groundz" and I was struck when I found that they had three types of Chai available...no, four. I thought, "Hmmm...That's interesting. Reminds me of the Borders days." I asked them what kind of Chai they served, and the barista said it was "Big Train." Big Train. Hmmm...I thought I'd had Big Train before and wasn't impressed, but maybe I was mistaken. Let's go for it. So I went for it, and here's what happened. After sitting down with my Vanilla Chai (for that's the best there can be), I took one sip, and immediately my senses were aroused. My nose knew the aroma that can only come from sipping the beloved Borders Chai. My tongue leaped with joy inside my mouth as if it were surprised by the greeting of a very old friend. "This is Borders Chai!" I thought. "Granted, they didn't put enough of the Chai powder in there, but I daresay this is the same as Borders Chai!" I proceeded to ask the barista if he would give me more of the Chai powder to place in my drink (yes, as a matter of fact, Chai powder concentrates CAN be very good), and after stirring it in and taking another sip, I knew I had entered a sacred place. But it wasn't Borders in the present, and it wasn't Borders in the past. It was a moment in time I would have never expected to find Borders Chai, in a place I had never been and never imagined the site of such a joyful reunion.
There are surprises awaiting in the present and cups of joy abounding in the future. If I can celebrate what's past and lament the loss of what is no longer here, then I can open my heart wide for the present Chai pouring in. And I too can pour into the present, preparing a rich brew for the future.
"I am the LORD your God,
who brought you up out of Egypt.
Open wide your mouth and I will fill it." -Psalm 81:10.
Beloved Substance
Beloved Substance
by David Ello
A cup of Chai for people to drink, that they may get a taste of goodness…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai whose divine qualities speak boastfully of the being that created it…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai that communicates what vitality there is to be had in this life…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai made with rich love and skill, and not the counterfeit that is produced at certain other coffee bars…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai: a tea latte with honey, milk, sugar, ginger,
cinnamon, and an array of other spices…that is what I would be.
I am not a cup of Chai, for though I am Chai, this vessel is only
half-full.
May the one whose creativity has been poured into this beloved beverage, pour forever more, that I may become a full cup of Chai,
complete in every aspect of my essence, as I was created to be.
by David Ello
A cup of Chai for people to drink, that they may get a taste of goodness…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai whose divine qualities speak boastfully of the being that created it…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai that communicates what vitality there is to be had in this life…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai made with rich love and skill, and not the counterfeit that is produced at certain other coffee bars…that is what I would be.
A cup of Chai: a tea latte with honey, milk, sugar, ginger,
cinnamon, and an array of other spices…that is what I would be.
I am not a cup of Chai, for though I am Chai, this vessel is only
half-full.
May the one whose creativity has been poured into this beloved beverage, pour forever more, that I may become a full cup of Chai,
complete in every aspect of my essence, as I was created to be.
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