what you know

I again found myself in Oklahoma City last weekend. Seeing friends. Wishing I could rock climb. Drinking the best Long Island Iced Tea I've had in a long time. And generally being refreshed.


Sunday morning, I had a brief conversation with Lance, a pastor and man I deeply respect. He asked me how things were going in Lawrence with our House Church adventures. Immediately, my many questions, concerns and desires poured forth. Lance listened patiently and then simply asked: but what do you know?


A simple question. And yet, even as I began to answer, I felt my focus and priorities shifting.

I tend to be a bit of a thinker. I question a lot. For me, that's the fun and joy of life: embracing the unknown, taking hold of mystery and seeing where the adventure might take you.

But, there was something centering about that question, something that deeply encouraged me in that moment.


For the things that we know, those small tidbits of life that we are confident of and can put the full weight of life against, are small chunks of rock. Each individually are pretty insignificant. Even together they can be nothing more than a pile of rubble. But given care and intention, they can be aligned and positioned in such a way to be a beautiful design and create one unit. There may be holes yet to be filled in, gaping questions and large areas of doubt, but as we step back and look at this formation, we realize that the pattern of rock is a foundation.

And it is on foundations that beautiful things are built.

on repeat

im excited

for... what's next?


(in case you missed the memo... the Dusty Bookshelf in Manhattan & Lawrence is a gem. i could spend hours there perusing the shelves. i may still, if this engineering thing doesn't work out)

40

The last weeks at House Church, we've found ourselves worshiping to U2's song 40. Katie brought it to us over a month ago and it's been with us ever since.

Psalm 40
I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,
And He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;
Many will see and fear
And will trust in the LORD....

Summer has officially started

This week, I was assigned to inspect the construction of a sanitary sewer line in Johnson County. Please read: week in the sun... yellow hard hat... middle of suburbia... work boots & jeans... Starbucks within walking distance... not terrible, but also not exciting. at all.

Last night, I realized that, over the course of the week, I have developed the official mark of summer for me:

the farmer's tan.

Every year, I declare that I am going to spend enough time in the sun to at least break even. I don't necessarily have to be all that tan, per se, I just don't want to be that guy with the line that goes from tan(ish) to immediately pale. Yet, year after year, I fail. I think this week officially screwed me for the rest of the summer.

Farmer's tan: 15
Rest of my white self: 3


Damn.



(and yes, Katie, Tyler, Nicole, or anyone else in Lawrence, this would be a totally appropriate time to make yet another jab at my brief stint in the tanning booth. BASE TAN people, and no, I didn't get burned in the Bahamas, thank you very much.)

I've been listening to Nine Inch Nails? WHAT?

The alternative blog title would have been: "because I'm really not an up-and-coming yuppie."

I heard Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt" on the radio a couple of days ago and loved it. I was actually quite shocked to learn it was them.


What can I say... I don't regularly listen to NIN.


I've listened to this song over and over the last days and can't get enough. Though it's dark and somewhat depressing, I find it deeply stirring. I appreciate how raw the song is both in lyric and music. Trent Reznor is expressing, in a rather beautiful way, a deep and alarming pain.

Our world can be pretty fake at times.

And so, I gravitate to things I find authentic. Even if they're messy and dismal.




Also, for a little bit less dark and a whole lot better music video, check out Johnny Cash's cover.

soul listening...

I've been on a Robert Kiyosaki kick of late (Rich Dad, Poor Dad and now Cashflow Quadrant). Wow, I feel a bit like an up-and-coming yuppie admitting these are the books I'm reading. Regardless, I plug them because they're legit.

On leadership, Kiyosaki says:

To be great leaders, rich dad stressed that we first had to be great listeners. If you did not listen to the words a person used, you would not be able to feel their soul. If you did not listen to their soul, you would never know to whom you were talking.

I find this to be a stirring and profound thought... feel their soul... listen to their soul. I appreciate the provocative imagery.

My favorite way of thinking of the soul is that it is the part of us which integrates our other parts and brings singular coherency. It is that which allows life to be a thing, rather than things; it integrates the various dimensions of a human being: our body, our thoughts, our emotions, our will, and our relationality. (thanks to Dallas Willard for some initial ideas surrounding the soul and a few friends who helped expand the concept).

As I think about feeling someone's soul, listening to their soul, I am struck with a captivating picture of fully hearing someone. To listen to another's soul is to hear them in all that they're saying, somehow putting together the often complimentary, often contradictory messages of emotion, worldview, body language, passion, words, etc. that they impart. Thus, I fully agree with Kiyosaki, to listen to or feel someone's soul, is to truly know them. And my hunch is that as we embark on this challenging task, we will find ourselves not only understanding other's with greater clarity, but also possessing for them greater compassion, acceptance and, ultimately, love.