"...under a black belly of cloud in the rain, she brings me white golden pearls, stolen from the sea, she is raging, she is raging, a storm blows up in her eyes..." -U2
Mas! Mas!
The account of one young hobo riding the twin rails of pleasure and pain toward his inevitable death and the glories that lay beyond it.





There is a cemetery just south of our house where the kids and I like to walk and ride bikes. When I walk out my front door in the morning and head to the left I can see the military portion of the cemetery; the tombstones of soldiers from the Spanish American War, World Wars I and II and the Korean conflict lined up in procession, cresting and dissapearing over a gentle rise. Seeing those tombstones every morning is a handsome and needed reminder of the grim sacrifices made on a daily basis for our nation.
One thing that surprised me over a decade ago when I left home to strike out on my own was how hard life is. I don't know why this surprised me like it did, but it was a shock. I think the thing that surprised me, as it probably does most people was just how much work life is. As a youngster I guess I just assumed that once you got old you reached some point where you leveled off and then it was pretty much auto pilot from then on, till the landing. But at some point in my twenties, it dawned on me that everything is in a steady state of decline (home,car,body, holiness, relationships) and requires constant upkeep. So much work! As a young boy, I had always looked forward to Heaven, but once I realized how much work was between me and the grave, I was ready to throw in the towel. I'm sure you've probably felt the same thing from time to time so you understand me when I say this is not suicidal, but rather a weary mental submission to the inevitable. "Same sh*t, different day" and "no rest for the weary," that sort of thing. So I spent plenty of time daydreaming about Heaven, looking forward to the great escape. As I matured (slowly), my need for mental escapes grew fewer and fewer, but my basic frame of mind was still basically, "just grin and bear it, this too will soon pass, and then...ohhh! how glorious it will be!" As I walked through the graveyard last fall I still had a tinge of envy for those resting souls, the song by Ryan Adams excerpted above always running through my head.
Slowly over the last year my thinking has been transformed on the subject of Heaven. I read Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell which kickstarted the process, and then recently read The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis which completed my mental one-eighty. I can now say that I look forward to and even desire a long life, regardless of how hard, painful, or full of toil it may be. Jesus has invited us to join him in a grand adventure. And it is! He has shown me to view every hardship and pain as opportunity, and toil as a gift.
Here's Rob Bell in Velvet Elvis: (silencio John!)
"When we choose God's vision of who we are, we are living as God made us to live. We are living in the flow of how we are going to live forever. This is the life of heaven, here and now. And as we live this life, in harmony with God's intentions for us, the life of heaven becomes more and more present in our lives. Heaven comes to earth. This is why Jesus taught his disciples to pray, "May your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." There is this place, this realm, heaven, where things are as God desires them to be. As we live this way, heaven comes here...
The question wasn't, how do I get in there? But how do I get there here?"
Finally, here is C.S. Lewis as found in the absolute masterpiece, The Great Divorce:
"There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, in the end, "Thy will be done." All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened."
So now, as I walk through that same cemetery where the trees are beginning to blossom, my prayer has changed from, "how long, oh Lord, how long?" to "God, I'm in. I want to fight down here, with these people, for as long as you'll let me, I'll take as much as I can get."
Everything has changed.




"6. What is the economic logic behind these lower tax rates?
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it." - John, the apostle
At some point in the past year I feel as though I have been shaken from the comfort of my mental "Shire" and have started to become aware of the prescence of the Valley of the Shadow. It hasn't been tragedy or hardship that has jolted me awake but rather the overwhelming prescence of beauty. Patty Griffin's voice, Mark Helprin's writing, Brahms, Thomas Sowell's mind, the boundless delight found in my wife Jennifer's face, the subdued pastels and heartbreaking silence of twilight, the Guadalupe on my skin, the grace in my daughter's smile, the smell of warm bread and it's ability to satisfy so deeply. All of these and more have shattered me. I am ruined for anything less. These gifts have driven me straight into the arms of the one I call, "The Great Other." Father, Spirit, Son. Jesus, Yahweh, The Great "I Am." And all of this feels like about the twentieth of what will surely be hundreds of salvations. Saved from myself, saved from death, saved from illusions, saved to life, and on and on it goes.
Like many believers I have dutifully attempted at times in my life to steer clear of sin, with some modest successes, and too many failures to count. My primary method for doing this was to attempt to build a series of floodgates to keep the darkness out. Not only did it not work, but in my fixation to keep the darkness out, I was ignorant of the light. My primary focus was in keeping darkness out rather than letting light in.
And then in spite of myself; morning broke, and I was awakened to the glorious light, and in that light I found life.
To my left and to my right is a darkness blacker than death, I am more aware of it now than ever before, but in front of me is Light and Life and with a face set like flint on what I desire, I choose Light and I choose Life. I exult in its radiant joy. I can see it (hear it, taste it, touch it, smell it) now.
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." - Jesus, (The Light and The Life)
Winter Sky over Wisconsin.
Deadly storm boils up over North Texas.
This one washed over us in giant undulating swells. The view from the ocean floor.
Art show above the Mountains.
Cropduster against a perfectly cloudy summer sky. "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork” - Psalm 19
I have had so many great conversations this week with people about the subject of my last blog. Thanks to all for helping me get some clarity. If you did read my last post, check out John's comment for a great rebuttal to the example I gave.
Here is a quote from a friend's blog that I found helpful, "Perhaps we’ve become too hyper-critical of ourselves to reach out to our own community. Too many times we compare ourselves with those who are receiving national or international acclaim or recognition for their achievements. The celebrity-style spotlight often leaves us feeling inadequate or inefficient in our own efforts to serve God. Instead, we should funnel the inspiration that comes from that attention into our own hearts and what God is doing through us to change the world around us." - Sam Gualtieri in Relevant magazine