an outfit.

I've started watching the new HBO mini-series, The Pacific, on Sunday nights over at my dad's house. This show is the story of the Marines 1st Division in the PTO in World War II. I really liked Band of Brothers which was the original HBO mini-series on the Airborne in Europe during that same time. The Pacific is good so far, but not quite Band of Brothers. You should check them out. These are some of my favorite types of stories, books, and movies, and I'm sure I'm not the only guy who would agree with that. I am of the opinion that guys like these type of scenarios not because we love violence and explosions, but because we were made to.

I often times find myself wondering how I may fit into something larger, something worthwhile, and who is alongside me in that struggle. I know that I have my wife, but there is a difference between how Lindsey and I fight for our family and justice, and how a group of men fight for things. Norman MacLean in his book Young Men and Fire called this an "outfit."

"an 'outfit' as men call themselves when they take on the same tough job, have to be thought a little bit crazy to try it, have to stick together and share the same training to get it done, and shortly afterwards have to go to town together and stick together if one of them starts losing a fight in a bar. They back each other and imitate each other (28)."

Men want to be a part of an outfit, where they need to stick together, and fight for a common cause. Much like the sports teams we were a part of in High School or College, we long to be battling through practice and competition to reach a collective goal (This isn't just for men or all men per se, but I think most of us would fall into this category).

But here's the challenge. We know that we ARE part of a larger story (for those of us who are Christians) and that we have a role to play. The problem lies in the idea that we don't know what that looks like. Maybe some of this comes from the emasculation of the Church-- where we don't see how battling for love actually plays out in a tough, masculine way. We don't have to literally "fight" for people's souls. We can really just be lone individuals who remember a hint of that brotherhood or outfit we had by playing church softball. But we still long to develop the relationships with other guys that is forged through adversity (or maybe even combat) that church softball will never bring.

I don't know exactly what this looks like in real life, or maybe even my own life. Sometimes one thinks about joining something that will try to meet that need, a new job, a fight club, or maybe even gangs. I don't think these will ultimately meet the underlying need though. Until we can find real life, masculine, tough-guy ways for men to be involved in the larger battle of even eternal life, I think we are going to see men who aren't sure of their calling, longing for something "more," or are emasculated to the point of being ineffective leaders. Jesus had his "outfit" of disciples. He taught and trained them true manhood, and he led them through adversity and combat. We need to join together and form new "outfits" for today. And we need them soon. I'm up for suggestions.

stickers are nice.

I was up early with Jonathan this morning reading him a book when he started pulling stickers off of a paper and sticking them on my forehead. I asked him, "what are you doing?" He patted me and said, "sticker, nice!" It brings me joy to think about how Jonathan was doing what he thought would make me look nice (even though I had four multi color smiley faces on my head). It was his intention to bring beauty to his daddy in the way he knew best. And I loved him for it even as I made sure they were all removed before leaving for work.

I'm pretty sure God the Father takes the same joy in us, as we try, sometimes in crazy ways, to show him to be as "nice" as we possibly can. It's comforting to know that as crazy as people may think we are, God loves us all the more for those crazy moments when we seek to show HIS beauty.

call me johnny cash.

I walk a lot of lines. Some of those are good lines to walk, others are not. The majority are only ever in my head (and sometimes on the blog). These lines that I vacillate between, over, and around normally go something like this:

"Well, point A has some great points that I totally agree with; but point B also has some really good points that make a lot of sense. Neither of them seem to be wrong, they are using the Bible to back them up after all. But they can't both be right, as they are opposites."

I am pretty sure I'm not the only one that goes through these types of debates in their head (at least I really hope I'm not, because I usually answer myself back- does that make me mentally ill?) and they normally follow good books or discussions over a cup of coffee, glass of wine, or a great beer.

I could go through a list of these debates, but I think the point is more about the discussion/debate itself. I often wish that life was more cut and dry, that this line was a mile wide rather than razor thin. But life doesn't work that way. Life is a lot of and/or/if. I don't want to say that life is all about discovering which side of this line is "right" and which is "wrong" because if it was all about this, I would spend much more time on the "wrong" side if just out of sheer laziness. There are rights and wrongs, but the important part that I am learning is that it isn't a list, a rule, or always the same.

I love this idea that the New Covenant expresses in the Bible. For those that commit to follow God through Jesus Christ will be guided by the Holy Spirit who will "write these things on [our] hearts." What this means is that life is about following a line that the Holy Spirit shows us as we go. As we seek God's will and take the step (and engage that internal debate) we have the knowledge and hope that the Holy Spirit will lead us in paths of righteousness. No longer can I draw a line in the sand to stand on one side or the other; I'd rather follow that line being drawn to the One who is drawing it. This is my latest internal debate.

five.

The other day I was pointed to a blog posting by a guy named Dustin Neely. I had never heard of this person before, but his topic was something that was very pertinent to my life, or at least my week. The post is called "5 Hard Truths for Planters" refering of course to church planting. (http://theresurgence.com/series/5-hard-truths-for-planters) This past year and especially these past 5 or 6 months have been the busiest of my life. I have gotten the least amount of sleep, given more than I can remember giving, and shifting priorities in so many different directions. And everything he says is true about church planting.

But as I read this and had some conversations with people, I soon started to see that this is not unique to church planting. The lives we live are so filled with things that these 5 truths are needed to be heard by all of us, for all of our lives. Just fill in "life" for any place you see something refering to church planting and you'll see what I mean.

For the record, at any given moment I rank very low in implementing every one of these truths. Uh, now I'm violating number 2, leading to number 4, need to go do some number 5.

towers of blocks.

Life doesn't like to fit into neat compartments. Maybe it shouldn't have taken me 29 years to realize this somewhat profound statement, but it has. Up to this point I have had this idea that there is a way "life is supposed to be." Like, if I don't live up to this certain type of life, things would be incomplete. So, what I try to do is to fill it up with everything I think needs to be in that "supposed to be" life.

I have an amazing wife who loves me no matter what, a son who makes me laugh and smile (and never sleep), a job that I like most of the time, and a church that allows me to be involved in God's work. We live relatively close to our families, we have great neighbors to share the block with, we own our own home, two cars, and have a dog that doesn't throw up when he eats things he's not supposed to. We live in a middle class neighborhood, always have enough to cover the bills, and even get to travel a good deal.

But what I have learned is that as great as all of these things are, the more great things don't neccesarily equal mental stability. Jonathan, my son, really likes to play with the oversized lego blocks. Every morning, when I wish he was still sleeping, we go to our living room, Jonathan sits by his basket of blocks, tells me to sit next to him and starts to build. He really is pretty good, but what he likes to do is build tall skinny towers. he will take the blocks with only one or two knobs and build them higher and higher and then clap for himself. (he obviously had some help with this one). The problem is, it soon falls over because it lacks stability.

That is how my life can feel sometime. I keep piling things on top until it is about to crash. But don't we all do that at some point? Either that or we don't even use the blocks that are available to us. What I have realized, is that life doesn't fit together nicely, but it doesn't stop us from building our towers too high until it's too late. The challenge of life is to figure out how to build our lives in a way that will fit together in a sustainable way. How do our faith commitments interact with what we do at work, at home, or with our neighbors? How do we spend the time with our families and friends in a way that builds them up and glorifies Jesus? How do we find the time to do what God has called us to do and to not go insane doing it? In some ways, I think we need to find where these things intersect and spend the time there. Is there a way that our church responsibilities can be done in the same place/time as our family, work, and community work is done? Maybe or maybe not.

This is obviously something I don't have the answer to, and maybe I never will; all I know is that life isn't supposed to look exactly like something, because it can't. Life is more like the tower Jonathan made, with stuff sticking out here and there. Sometimes we just have to make sure it doesn't fall over.