Walk The Line

I woke up thinking about my daddy today. He has been with Jesus for about 14 years. Still seems weird. Every now and then, I get a whiff of him in the air.

Big Jim was a player long before thuglets put on baggy pants and cocked their caps to the side. He was a man of the game. He was a trucker, amoung many other things... Once his truck got reposessed, he broke in the lot, made a trip to calif, and put it back in the lot before they knew he was gone, walked up to the man and gave him a check. He played the game for years. He was a gambler ,He lost more money than I will ever earn in my life. He liked diamond rings, Rolex watches and when he walked into a room, every one knew it. He became very successful in transportation. At one time in the early 80's, he was it in the southeast. It was cool to see.

in the early 70's, there was a movement in California called the "lay renewal movement." he was a big part of that. He came to know Jesus and freaked all his outlaw buddies out. freaked me out.

His life was spent from one extreme to another. On fire or burned out, no in between.

he had the biggest forearms I have ever seen.

my kids have some memories of him. The paw paw memories. But I am afraid they will not know him the way he really was.

as quick as he was to make a buck, he was just as quick to give one away. He was a hardy man with great stories. Rough and wild, but gentle at times. A man of great reputation, not always good, but great in stature. "one of a kind" as his stone says.

people have lived and died and then are forgotten.

Big Jim lives on in my heart because I miss him. My whole life was spent trying to please him. Some after he died I think.

I ran away as a teen, leaving a note saying I had to "find myself." he always asked me if that ever happened.

I broke his heart. Hurt him in personal ways because I was thinking about me and my wants. As a parent, I understand why he took things so personal.

he loved my kids. TJ was his first grandchild. He loved him very much. I hope and pray TJ's son looks at me the way TJ looked at my daddy.

He loved snuggling with Linsey. He tried to hide it, but tears would well up as she kissed his rough face.

he never told me he loved me. "I would not take anything for how you turned out" he said once.

he had a strong hand shake and demanded I had one.

he was a boxer, played catcher for the 3A St. Louis Cardinals, collected money for the mob, spent several nights in the "box" of a southern work camp, could run the table on any pool game, was a carnie for a while, plowed a field with a mule, and I am sure he walked to school up hill both ways in the snow, fished bass tourneys, becacme a avid golfer and for most of the 30 what ever years they were married, he loved my mother.

I saw him knock a man smooth out for trying to tell him how to deal with his business.

I saw him cry when I got married. He knew I was to young, he knew we would struggle...But he was there.

He died too young. 54. for almost 7 years, every sick day I had from work, every vacation day was spent with him at the hospital. heart almost gone. organs to far gone because of heart problems. once a year, he would alost die...then go home.

for as young as he was, he lived more in those 54 years than most do who live to be 100.

I would not trade one moment for any of those days. he could have died any time the doc said, but he held on. after all that, he did not pass away in a hospital room, but home in his sleep. alone...with his stupid poodle that never left his side for 4 years. we all hated that dog.

A movie about Johnny Cash is out. My daddy embodied the spirit of Cash and his rebellious and redemptive ways.

we never had to wait till Christmas to open gifts. His child like excitement never made it that far. With five kids, we were always enjoying the gifts a few days before, against my mothers wishes.

this is for you Big daddy. Of all the memories, I wish I could just sit and talk for a while. Things are different now. I understand a bit more of what life is about. It would be cool just to chat and reminisce. Come to think of it...That is what we are doing. I miss you. I miss you sitting with my son, my grandson, my little girl is not so little anymore.

Walk the Line Big Daddy...Walk the line.

If the house is a rockin...

Dancing has never been my thing. When I was doing lots of chemicals, I always thought I could dance, but I never really could. Slow dancing was cool. I remember holding my wife close, smelling her hair, looking into her eyes trying to sing what ever drunken song that was playing. But as most, I really thought I had a little move or two on the floor. I could keep a beat for a few moments, but in the end, I was like most drunken rednecks and just flailed my hips around like I was some caveman looking for a mate.

Never liked watching dancing either. Dancing with the stars? You gotta be kidding me!!!

Someone mentioned today "waltzing with God's Spirit" on a comment. For a brief moment, I let my mind wander...What follows is the end of that process.

Lately, scripture has been as sweet as Tupelo Honey to my lips. Passion that I thought had been lost during the dispersion seemed to only need be uncovered. desire that rises up in me as I read each day is an ancient longing that can only come from One who died but now is alive.

we are to easy to forget and leave behind that Ancient of days that calls from eternity past in order to embrace a so called newness.

we try and keep in step with the Spirit, or "waltz" if you will, to the soothing melodies of a wild lover calling from beyond our comfort into a world we do not know, with wonder beyond our understanding and the unknown longing as deep calls to deep.

yet the tunes we seek to move to are often not the same tune that supports our form of movement.

I love the blues. Texas Blues. Even more specific, Stevie Ray blues. But I am also drawn to the old black man sitting on a chair tapping his foot and bellowing out hurts from a love gone wrong and a women gone bad. Delta blues.

sometimes, the movement He calls me to involves a different beat, a slow down, or even a speed up. But because I seem to be stuck in my own deal, I miss great opportunities that would allow others to hear and move to His calling and His leading.

I closed my eyes as we worshiped with others and wanted to actually dance around. You remember what it was like as a kid when we could close our eyes, lift our hands and move about like the wind was carrying us? That is how I felt today. Of course, I did not do this. Out of fear of being seen as an idiot, but mostly out of unwillingness to really let myself go and experience worship rather than just do worship.

I love my God. I am deeply in love with Jesus. He asked me to dance today. I pretended like I did not hear him. I stood alongside the back wall with all the other geeks waiting for some action, and when He showed up, I freaked out.

not sure how it will turn out next time. But he did tell me he would be back. Hopefully, my response will be different.

not sure I am into living my life for what could have been.

anybody wanna dance?

"if the house is a rocking, don't bother knockin...come on in" SRV

Night Moves

I love it when Jackson just sits with me. these are times that are fleeting and must be enjoyed with much affection. I like it when he sleeps on my shoulders.

Most of my reading as of late has been spent with John. Each morn about 6 am, I roll my big booty out of bed grab a cup of java, and head to the ole chair under the light.

This morning, I had the priveledge to read again the account of the Last Supper. Small things catch my attention each day as I try and not rush through something my eyes have seen many times before. Hints of danger each day have come as Jesus freaks people out about commitment. You can amost smell the disdain the religious had for Jesus.

but today there was no danger, no deep hidden truth, no theological meaning, just one phrase.

"now there was leaning on on Jesus' bosom one one of His disciples, whom He loved."

open your mind to this for a moment.

we get the picture of all the guys on one side of the table looking all...what ever.

here is what I saw as I gazed into this point and time.

there was a moment in between the bread and the wine, just before judas did his deal...and while there was a moment, this man, whom Jesus loved, laid his head on the chest of Jesus. as a child, he rests on the one who loved him dearly was was loved in return.

sometimes we need to remember the kingship of Jesus and bow before Him in humility.
sometimes we out to bow before Him in His grandure and holiness.
sometimes we need to be broken over ourselves for our stupidity.

and sometimes we need to just lay on His chest. catching a moment, ever how fleeting , just to remind us we can...and he can.

I had no specdial needs today, other than the grace given for what lay ahead. nothing that had me stop everything and seek a miracle. there have been those. this was no day for anxious thoughts over lack of funds, or protection of children. it was a day that I prayed for the Bride...and I simply lay on His bosom.

in the midst of life, may you steal away for a time of rest on the bosom of our Lord.

Last wish or life's desire?

I am sure this will make it way across blog world. but having dealt with the recent death of a co-worker, the truth here is universal.

Live. And Live Well.

BREATHE. Breathe in and Breathe deeply. Be PRESENT. Do not be past. Do not be future. Be now.
On a crystal clear, breezy 70 degree day, roll down the windows and FEEL the wind against your skin. Feel the warmth of the sun.
If you run, then allow those first few breaths on a cool Autumn day to FREEZE your lungs and do not just be alarmed, be ALIVE.
Get knee-deep in a novel and LOSE track of time.
If you bike, pedal HARD… and if you crash then crash well.
Feel the SATISFACTION of a job well done—a paper well-written, a project thoroughly completed, a play well-performed.
If you must wipe the snot from your 3-year old’s nose, don’t be disgusted if the Kleenex didn’t catch it all… because soon he’ll be wiping his own.
If you’ve recently experienced loss, then GRIEVE. And Grieve well.
At the table with friends and family, LAUGH. If you’re eating and laughing at the same time, then might as well laugh until you puke. And if you eat, then SMELL. The aromas are not impediments to your day. Steak on the grill, coffee beans freshly ground, cookies in the oven. And TASTE. Taste every ounce of flavor. Taste every ounce of friendship. Taste every ounce of Life.
Because-it-is-most-definitely-a-Gift.


From Kyle Lake's last sermon as read at his funeral and exactly as he wrote it (via Dan Kimball at Vintage Faith)

"Shorter of Breath and One Day Closer to Death"

A few years ago, there were some posters that came out that were pictures in a picture so to speak. The thing was to let your eyes relax as you stared at this thing, and another totally different picture would emerge...Sort of a 3d kinda deal. Sometimes I would see the hidden picture, other times I would look like an idiot staring at the wall.

I have been tryin to look at life as a whole for the past few years. Sometimes I get messed up by getting real close to the canvas and focusing on one little detail for a while, but mostly, I have tried to look at the big picture.

There are certain things that are clearer in my life since I am no longer a staff member of the local Body.

most of my time spent on staff was spent with other believers. I was constantly surrounded by those who believed as I did. While there were some minor differences, it was pretty much the same. Hours were spent looking at a particular part of the canvas, discussing and pointing out difficulties we saw on the actual mural. At the end of the day, we seldom looked very far back, nor did we spend much time looking very far forward.

the farther I walk away from the canvas, in order to get a better look at the bigness of life, I find myself running to people who are focused on a different part of the picture. While it is interesting to try and dialogue with those who see the canvas different than I do, it has been difficult realizing I may have been focused on the wrong thing.

many believers will spend more time looking at a bizarre color on Revelation and miss the picture all together. Many will spend way to much time on another area than I would. But we all tend to look at one part of the canvas to justify our own individual thought process.

More and more I try and read stuff that is different from what I actually believe. Understanding another's ideals may be difficult, but it can help us to understand folks. As hard nosed as I am about certain things, I find there are others that are the same in their understanding.

Scripture for me has been more than an old book of stories. I have found with in its pages life, understanding and confrontation. From the beginning to the end, the picture of redemption is a beautiful painting painted with care, purpose and desire by the most wonderful of Artists.

many lose the completeness of the painting by simply treaing is not as a work of beauty and purpose, but as a super wal-mart. With so much stuff, you cannot buy it all, so we can pick and choose which parts we may want to take home.

the good thing about buffet style thinking is having the ability to look and choose what one wants, what one can use, what seems to be needed.

we cannot apply the same thoughts to what is to be taken as complete.

Bargain shopping at the mall of convenience cannot be the attitude we take when dealing with the Words of Scripture. Nor can we use excuses with what is breathed and inspired by Him who is seated on the Throne above the Earth.

As a young man, I have shaken my fist at the establishment leaders while crying out "you do not understand! There has to be more to this! You cannot take what is given to man and twist it into your own agenda!"

as an older man. "shorter of breath and one day closer to death", I am finding that it is those who are against Christ as Judge, but for Christ as love. For Christ as savior, but against Christ as divider of men. For John 3:16, but against John 3:18.

my point is this.

we cannot pick and choose based on convenience, what parts of the whole picture we will take and which we will leave behind.

we were created to give glory to God. We cannot do that by reading scripture as if it is a irrelevant dated book written by people who were somewhat ditzy. Nor can we look at part of redemption history as children stories and object lessons. Nor can we try and take the edge of what is "sharper than any two edged sword." nor can we pick and choose truths and directions like picking grapes off while leaving others since they are not to our liking.

I desire to know what it means to be in it but no of it. I desire to know the full life I was promised. I desire to be part of a greater cause. I desire to know Him, His character, His heart and His face. I desire to walk in transforming resurrection power that reanscends problems and issues that distract.

in a country that has embraced weak and easy faith, it is vital we become people of the Word.

I read about Wycliffe. He was burned at the stake for what he did by translating scripture. Years later, they still hated him so bad, they dug up his bones and burned them again.

today, Americans treat scripture as a Harry Potter book. It is nice to read, but all these stories can't possibly be real...Can they?