Broken

So I've started this particular post about five times now, and nothing rings true. I keep trying to write about something encouraging, something beautiful, something... uplifting. But it simply isn't where I am right now. My heart is not encouraged.

(sigh)

I know I am blessed beyond all measure. I have seen God's provision so much the past few months, mostly through family and friends that have given from their heart. And in the past few days I have started back to a normal-ish job, again, a circumstance provided by God in a way in which I could not have imagined to ask. I have an abundance of friends that truly do care about me, and a family that is good enough not to ask questions that would hurt too much to explain.

I eat more than my share of food. Sleep in a comfortable bed. I just packed up more than half of my t-shirt collection, and still have enough to wear a different one each day and not wash any for over a month. I get to choose what shoes I wear. I am sitting here typing on a computer that connects me with friends across the country, even across the globe, daily.

I am blessed beyond all measure.

And I don't feel a thing, at least not anything warm, or fuzzy, or whatever. I feel only the pain, the frustration, the loneliness, and the grief.

(sigh) I am so selfish.

Lord, I need so much more of You! Even that statement betrays my selfishness... I need more of Him. Gimme, gimme. I'm treating Him as if He must serve me... how backwards my heart is.

Lord, please help my heart to look to You... not for anything You can give me... but simply for You.

I know that I am nothing, and You need nothing from me.

You are all sufficient, and I am all insufficient.

So anything I offer You is worthless in itself.

I can do nothing without You.

You sustain me and raise me to my feet.

You give me strength to keep walking when I have none left in me.

But I know that I am nothing... and deserve nothing from You.

You are all sufficient, and I am all insufficient.

The smallest gift You give is more valuable than anything in this world.

You can do all things without me, even in spite of me.

You need no one to sustain Yourself.

You have all strength within You.

Yet You love me. You are the Servant of all.

In Your service, You show me that to give is better than to receive.

So your desire for my gift, my "service" is not for it's own worth

It is for my better. It is better to serve than to be served.

And in me becoming more like You, the Servant of all, You are glorified.

As I look back at where this post started, I don't really know where I was going with any of it. It seems I am a broken record lately. Or broken, at least. I chuckle at that, because that theme seems to be running through my life lately, even being chosen as the theme for a large summer camp I help create the visual experience (videos/sound/music) for.

I have nothing to give. Everything I thought I had to offer is dross. All my life seems to always come to nothing. Only He is worth anything, and He is all I have left.

I'm trusting in You, Lord, to help me pick up the pieces. 'Cause I have no idea what I'm doing.

But I love You, and I hope that is enough...

Traffic and Thanksgiving

Today, I, like many during this time, drove several hours from home to visit my family over the thanksgiving holidays. Normally, this is not anything that I terribly mind doing. I enjoy the time to myself to think, listen/sing to music turned up loud, or, if carpooling, enjoy good conversation. But today in my drive, after dropping off my good conversation buddy Justin, I was reminded of why I do not live in a large city: A 20-mile long, 1 hour traffic jam.

While I understand that many people put up with this every day twice a day, in Lubbock, we simply don't have them on any scale worth worrying about. Now, those who know me will probably concur that it's relatively hard to make me angry... I might get irritated for sure, but seriously angry... well, it takes a lot.

But for some reason, that traffic jam today pushed me over the edge. I was seething. I was ranting. I was shaking my hands in the air. I was livid. I was thinking of all the words I could possibly use to describe how much I hated traffic and could find none other than the guttural man-yell that rarely, if ever, escapes my lips. I wanted to do violent things to something inanimate. It was absolutely maddening.

It must be the outpouring of everything I've been going through the past few months. Failing at "making it" in freelance work and deciding to go back to work... leaving ministry for reasons which few understand and fewer still agree with, all the while missing it incredibly... complete uncertainty in relationships, both family, friendship and other... trying desperately to follow God when His only question to me is "how much will you give me?"... and not knowing how much more I can give... I have nothing. No money, no pride, no heart, no dreams, no success, no holiness. I have nothing to give. I am empty. I am not in control of my life. And it hurts. Oh, it hurts.

So when I finally reached my mom's house, I was still so angry, full of ungratefulness and a hardened heart. Why? Why must my life be so unresolved? Why can't my life be more like those people that actually get what they try for, and put in half the amount of effort I do?

And then I read a friend's blog... and it spoke of thankfulness for the harvest in others amidst a time when her own harvest had not yet come...

... and I was, indeed still am, cut to the core by it...

I realized I had been giving up on the hope of things to come and just been trodden down with the weight of the "now". I have resented that I must give up these things... as if I am an undeserving victim... I have become an arrogant fool who thinks more of himself than he ought...

The truth is, I have much to be thankful for. In these times of financial hardship, I have never gone hungry. Friends and family have come to my aid in ways that they really should not have. My old boss was able to bring me back on in a capacity that seems almost illogical to even think of, and yet is exactly what I need. In the midst of feeling the need to not "go to church" on Sundays, I have been continually blessed with opportunities to "be church", over and over again showing me church outside of walls. And even in misunderstanding, hesitancy, and uncertainty, I know my friends and family still love me.

In all of this I can see the hand of God, gently trying to lead me to know a deeper thanksgiving... not for these things, for physical, emotional or relational blessings... but for their lack... to truly be able to say "Blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place, though I walk through the wilderness, Blessed be Your name, Jesus."... the Lord is SO good to me... in spite of, and, really, inside all of these troubles.

Forgive me, Lord, for my grumbling.

Forgive me for my selfishness.

I. Deserve. Nothing.

Anything you choose to give me is a blessing.

Thank You, Lord, for having no money and being forced to depend on others.

Thank You, Lord, for my failure, because in it, I learn humility.

Thank You, Lord, for relationships that hurt so deeply, yet draw me to Your heart.

Thank You, Lord, for making me give up "my" ministry so I could see Yours.

Thank You, Lord, uncertainty, for it makes me look to You.

Thank you, Lord, ... sigh... for traffic jams.

Last Day (and the unknown ahead)

So yesterday was my last day at St. Luke's Southwest in Lubbock. And I don't know what to think.

God as been leading me in a strange direction the past few months. In a direction I am definitely not comfortable in. A direction completely foreign to me. One in which church is not a "Jesus show" on Sunday mornings consisting of men on a platform performing for people sitting down below, whether in song or rhetoric, asking that the Spirit flow through our actions. No, He is leading me to a church that is 24-7, to one of every member functioning, of being their part of the body of Christ, of one in which no one person is a "movie star" but instead shines all light toward the glory of Christ . . . To a church that encourages each other to actually grow . . .

And yet, I see how God did chooses to work in our present American commercialized church paradigm . . . how He will use what we give Him, because of His grace . . . but for some reason, He gave me a glimpse of something so much better, so much deeper . . . and yet, I have no idea how to get there . . .

"Light my way

Open my eyes

Won't You go before me?"

-Dallas Stevens III

So, my last day. As a small group of people prayed for me after the service, I was at once touched and hurt by it . . . and I can't put my finger on exactly why it hurt . . . It wasn't pain at leaving, as callous as that sounds. I will miss a number of people there, but I know God was leading me away. No, it was a pain of something, maybe a recognition that it takes someone leaving for them to be prayed for. . . that this type of encouragement should be going on everyday for everyone . . .

I don't know. I have been plugged into the American church machine for so long, I don't really know what it looks like outside. I am almost afraid. I have no grid for real church. When I hear the word, "church", I still think of a building that people meet in every weekend to have a service where someone talks at you for up to an hour and we sing songs that are either devoid of life, or glorying in emotion. . .

Sorry, cynical Kris took over there for a minute . . .

So Lord, lead me home

Lead me to a place where I find You

Lead me to others who want You alone

Not a show

Not a power

Not a calling

Not a mission statement

Not a program

Not a well-turned phrase

Not a clever 3-point box

but You

and You alone.

A reflection on the nature of "love" . . .

What follows is no new thoughts, no new insights . . . just one lonely person's rambling in the night, trying to figure himself out: at times the hopeless romantic, at times the realist. What follows is a discussion with . . . myself.

So, as established in a few previous blogs, I am a hopeless romantic. I am a dreamer. I write sappy love songs to the object of my affection, albeit, so far, none have ever actually heard said love songs. I dream of her night and day, decline to eat because it holds no savour, decline to work because it holds no purpose. I desire the fairy tale relationship, the rose-colored glasses, etc., etc.

But how realistic is such a relationship? The unfortunate realist in me must acknowledge that is really isn't. At all. Love is messy. It's not easy. It's not all peaces and cream. It's not like the movies, it's not like the valentine's day cards.

But it's not emotionless, either. Passion (not sex) for another individual can be quite genuine. In fact, it seems to me that real love could be the prerequisite for passion; that all-encompassing emotional response that has no quantifiable objective other than to feel strong . . . somethings . . . toward another.

But is passion a valid basis for a relationship? While the world at large, collectively, seems to be shouting a resounding "yes", I would bet that most people, if honestly asked, would disagree. Passion can be fleeting . . . especially if that passion has no basis in anything other than physical or emotional attraction. People change; physically, emotionally, mentally, even spiritually . . . and if the passion is based on any of those things . . . it is doomed to wither and die.

No. Love. Real, honest, love is choice. It is choosing to actively love (v.) another person. Committing that nothing, no matter what, will ever change the way I treat you. People say it all the time in wedding vows, and are so happy to because of the hormones racing through their blood; "to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part." But very few really consider the cost of such a vow, if indeed they mean to keep it.

But is commitment without passion worth it? I hesitate, but I would say "no". However, I think that but perhaps honest commitment results in passion. What we choose to actively love inevitably creates emotional attachment in our hearts. When we decide to act towards someone with their best interest above our own, that sacrifice breaks something within us . . . it breaks down our god-complex and makes our reality no longer revolve around us. It may come slowly, but I believe that when we love (v.) it can turn into love (n.).

But is that emotion even worth it? To open yourself up to such pain? To such vulnerability to rejection? Oh, the thought makes me cringe. I want to wrap myself up in a blanket and shut the world out.

And how do we justify those other passions? Can we? Is it wrong to feel your stomach go in knots when the girl you're "head over heels for" walks by? Is it wrong to feel physical attraction to someone? To be knocked speechless by beauty? It's hard to say. . . we've so corrupted those feelings. Are these transient, experiential, feelings a justifiable reason to begin a relationship?

I don't know. I want to say "yes", but I have a hard time with that. I don't feel like it's an honest answer. And yet these signs of passion are the things I desire with every fiber of my being. How can I desire them so, when every brain cell tells me that in the end, they are meaningless? Am I so corrupted? Am I so backwards?

I suppose the answer would be that they are inseparable, when viewed correctly. We are beings of multiplicity . . . of body, of mind, of will, of emotion, of spirit. . . and all would, ideally, be involved in the truest acts of love.

While I abhor the use of Christ as an example to justify my own ideas, I must say it seems to fit in this instance. Christ, as He died for us, fulfilled all of love. He is Love. He defines it. So, what do I see at the cross? I see a God-man who made the choice to die . . . to give up his body, actively submitting His will to the Father for the sake of the people, refusing to let His mind convince Him otherwise, passionately crying out for the forgiveness of those who pierced Him, even letting His spirit take on ALL eternal consequence for EVERY thing ever done to miss the mark of His Father's perfection. I see Him loving us with every shred of His existence.

Perhaps romantic love is simply a picture that points at this, the supreme example of Love. However imperfect our love is, however flawed, however damaged, however corrupted we have made it, it still points toward the source of what could be. Can I love like Him? Can I put aside everything of me for the sake of another?

Honestly, it doesn't seem realistic. Or romantic.

Set switch time at Rock the Desert

So I'm sitting here at Rock the Desert, Leeland just finished and Chris Tomlin is up next, and I figured I'd give this blogging app for the iPhone a try.

So far, it's been hot and fun. But it's interesting seeing the music from a different point of view... Even last year, I would have been more into the "worship"-focused music, but thus year, for some reason, it all rings false in my ear. That's a strange thing for a "worship leader" to feel. But it seems to miss the point at these types of gatherings even more than typical cheesy christian muisc does.

They say, "it's all for you, Jesus", but logically speaking, how can it be? They receive a substantial check for singing all of these songs, people paid all this money for a show... And they get one... How is that "all about Jesus"?

I don't know, perhaps I'm turning into a cynical old man, but it just doesn't seem like worship at all, at least not of Jesus... It's a monument to something else entirely. I'm not saying that Christian music is bad . . . JI actually like a lot of it... Just be honest about what you're doing and saying.

It's been awhile

Because I realize how long it's been since I've made an update . . . (for those of you that read this. :) ) . . . I have decided to do two posts at once. The previous post is one I wrote for a little thing called the Paradigm Exchange (www.theparadigmexchange.com), something a good friend of mine started, and has asked me to write for. My story hasn't been posted yet (as of the date of this blog), but I pretty much assume that there will not be that much overlap between the readership of said two sites.

As for me, lots has been happening . . . as some of you will already have known, I have left Abundant Harvest Community Church in Brownfield, TX. This is a good thing. A God thing. They actually sent me off with prayer and a gift card to Guitar Center (the prayer being the obviously more important and meaningful than the card, although it in itself, is very much appreciated {grin}). It was not an easy decision to make, but one in which I believe God was leading me. It's hard to leave behind a place and a people you love to serve. But God is leading all of us from that body into a place of deeper trust, I think . . . and who am I to argue?

So . . . yeah . . . now I am jobless and churchless (so to speak . . . it's not exactly accurate but we'll go with it). Who's having to trust on God?

{raising hand and waving} ooo, ooo, I am! I am!

And is He ever faithful? He is indeed. I lack nothing. My freelance business is not exactly "booming", but I always have enough to get by. I've done several small jobs lately, and several more are on my plate.

Speakin' o' which, if you have any friends/family/neighbors/acquaintances/enemies that need Web sites, videos, audio recording, print design, etc. done. . . have 'em shoot me an email. (kris@filament-productions.com)

Musically speaking, I'm extremely proud and thankful to announce that we've finally finished my 4-song EP. After 3-5 years of some of these songs being concepts/demos . . . we have them in finished, studio-recorded (well, home-studio), production-filled form. It (the EP) sounds pretty much fantastic, and I would love for you (yes, YOU) to hear it. Unfortunately, it does actually cost me to produce CD's, so if you would like a CD in a sleeve, they are $5. Let me know, and I can shoot one your way. {cheese} I'm also selling them digitally on our myspace page (www.myspace.com/xhristosphoreoband  - right underneath the music player) for $.99 per song or $3.96 for the whole EP. Also, just for kicks, you should check out our main site (which really only links to our myspace) - www.xhristosphoreo.com. It's not for the faint of bandwidth, but it looks freakin' cool. And if anyone (hint, hint) wants to have my band come play at their church (or anything else for that matter), we would love to. And by "we", I mean, "at least me, and possibly one other person, but probably not a full band." It's very hard to find musicians that will work for free. {sigh}

Please pardon the previous two (or six, depending on how you look at it) shameless plugs in this blog.

I've also enjoyed playing this summer with the Dallas Stevens Band (www.dallasstevensband.com and www.myspace.com/dallasstevensband). I play keys with them, and have a rockin' good time. We've played quite a bit the past several months and have a few more gigs this year. I will also soon be joining the ranks of another friend's band, called Faces for Radio (www.myspace.com/facesforradiomusic) Self-deprecating title aside, it should be fun.

Let's see . . . what else . . . no girls, unfortunately . . . I'm not sure it's time yet. Of course, I actually have to talk to a girl to see. . . but that's another story.

I have a lunch "interview" with a pastor this week in Lubbock about possibly filling their Worship Leader position. We'll see if that's something God wants to work out or not. I'm not sold on it either way. I'm still trying to figure out where God wants me.

Ummm . . . yeah, that pretty much sums up my life right now. 

Dad, You are good!!

You honor those that trust in You.

Thank You so much for allowing the EP to be done.

I'm so excited and I just can't hide it
I'm about to lose control and I think I like it
I'm so excited and I just can't hide it
And I know I know I know I know I know I want You.

Sorry for the random song quote. . . but it fit.

Please lead me in the way of Your will.

Let me not get caught up in my own.

Thank You for Your leadership.

Thank You for Your provision.

You are so good!

I love You, Dad.

So be it.

(in)Significant

In early August, this year, I was privileged to be able to make a trip to Quito, Ecuador with a group of people from my mom's church. They go down every year to help one of several churches that need construction done on their church buildings. You know, the typical church mission trip that makes people think they've really made a difference, when they only really show up for a week, barely get to know anyone (if at all . . . after all, there is the whole language barrier thing), do the tourist thing for a few days, live in comparative luxury to the people they are "helping", and then return home to their cushy lives in America.

At least, that was my impression of most church "mission trips". I'll admit, it's not a very polite or nice or flattering way of thinking about them, especially when most people who go on them really have the best of intentions. And they had gone, and I hadn't. But, now that I've experienced it, it's really kind of what goes on.

In any case, when it was offered that my way would be payed, I jumped at the opportunity, since those sort of trips are all but completely out of my meager salary's reach.

Side Note: I'm aware that I'm showing a bit of my two-faced nature here . . . obviously holding these trips in disdain for the most part, and yet jumping at the opportunity to go if my way is paid. But hey, it's true. Maybe not good, but true.

Now, at this point I could glowingly expound upon the typical "it changed my life" spiel . . . but I won't, 'cause it didn't.

Well, maybe a bit.

Everyone kept telling me that it would be an eye-opening experience, that it would change my view of the world, to really see poverty that close and all that. And, no doubt, I was constantly amazed at the level of it surrounding us as we traveled, and how the people didn't really seem to mind too terribly much that they were that poor. They actually seemed much happier than most Americans, strangely enough.

But it wasn't like this huge realization came over me in this profound way or a light bulb went off in my head, or any other analogy for enlightenment that you can think of. A couple of former missionaries that came with us made comments at the beginning of the trip asking me if it was "sinking in" yet and such things. It never really did. I just knew I was in another country, and simply accepted it. I didn't feel called to give up my life of luxury in the US and sell everything and move to a third-world country. If anything, I felt that I was supposed to actually enjoy the blessings God has given me here.

The only thing that nagged at me was something I started thinking about on the way home. And that was this: I had been visiting a city of 1.5 million people approximately 2800 miles away from where I lived.

That may not have sunk in with you like it did with me. Of course, my trains of thought can tend to jump the tracks now and again.

Here's how it kind of went:
I was in a city of 1.5 million people.
It's a long ways away from where I live.
It's a small country.
There's lots of other countries in the world.
With lots of cities.
With lots of people.

I am insignificant.

And there it is. I am insignificant. I realized that all the things that I think are important in my life . . . movies, eating out all the time, spending time with my friends, making enough money to do the aforementioned things, writing music, volunteering at my church . . . they mean pretty much nothing, in the grand scheme of things.

There is a whole world of people that live their lives from day to day, not knowing me, not caring about me, completely oblivious to my existence . . . only really thinking about the same basic things I am . . . what it's going to take to get through today and keep on living.

Kind of depressing, no?

But then I remembered the little gem of Psalm 139:13:

For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

Suddenly, I am significant. For the God of creation, who sees the world as it is now and as it has been, with every person of every nation living throughout all of history . . . personally put me together inside my mom.

So . . . I am significant . . . and yet, insignificant. When I think of this, a profound wave of humility sweeps over me. God thinks me important enough to "knit me together" Himself, and yet he thinks everyone important enough to do the same for them.
Who am I, then, to treat anyone, anywhere as anything less than God's personal favorite? For they, like me, are (in)Significant.