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How I Vote

4 November 2008
I asked my son Jakin (5 years old) today at the Bread Shop if he knew who he wanted to be president, as we ate our slices of cinnamon chip bread with butter and honey. He said confidently that he did. I asked him who? He answered….
 
“John Bush.”
 
I laughed out loud. Partly because my five year old boy has a strong political opinion, with conviction in his voice. Partly because if reporters had been there to record it, I could imagine the Democrats making a political commercial that said, “See…even a 5 year old boy knows that a vote for John McCain is a vote for 4 more years of Bush!” And I could see the Republicans making one that said, “See…he’s already half-way towards the right decision at only 5 year old!”
 
Sheesh.
 
I don’t usually vote. I pray, which I believe is a far more powerful influence on the outcome of the election than my vote, and it also allows for my 1) humility to be exerted in not knowing who would be better for Christ’s Kingdom to be advanced, 2) laziness in being a tad uninformed about the men and issues and relative importance of each concerning my freedom to live for Christ day in and day out, and 3) passionate desire to care deeply about my country and direction it goes, without arrogantly asserting that I should know.
 
Many decry my morality in not voting. “What would happen if every Christian had your attitude, and didn’t vote?” I got asked this year. My answer? “If every Christian skipped voting, and prayed to God with as much activism and zeal as many do with their political activism, what I think would happen is that we would change the world for Christ with more vigor and effectiveness than any US election every could.” 
 
In Ed Fudge’s excellent grace mail on the subject (copied below), he articulates well much of how I feel. He votes. I don’t. Another example of people having deep philosophical agreement that results in different outcomes. But for what it is worth, “My name is Brian Mashburn and I approve this message.”
 
>>>From Edward Fudge on 11-2-08:
 
“This Tuesday, November 4, 2008, millions of Americans will go to the polls and register their choices for President and Vice-President. For the first time ever, voters will choose between two sitting U.S. Senators for President, neither of whom was born within the continental United States. A number of gracEmail subscribers have asked my political opinions; others have kindly sent me theirs. And several, from both ends of the political spectrum, are so confident of God’s will that there is nothing left to discuss.

Today, most Christians in the USA consider voting to be a moral duty, unaware that notable believers from Tertullian (2nd century) to David Lipscomb (20th century) have taught that Christians ought to have no part in earthly government whatsoever. My own father held that view, which I respect but do not share. On the other hand, my father’s father, an Alabama sharecropper, was almost a Yellow Dog Democrat (one who would vote for a yellow dog if it ran on the Democratic ticket). Almost — but not quite. In 1928, faced with the choice between presidential candidates Herbert Hoover (Republican) and Al Smith (Democrat, but also Roman Catholic), his other prejudices prevailed and he stayed home altogether.

As this Election Day approaches, room does remain for careful thought. We had as well acknowledge it — millions of intelligent, conscientious Christians throughout the United States will pray for divine wisdom this Tuesday, search their hearts for God’s will, then mark their ballots in opposing columns. These thoughtful believers all understand the need to make judgments informed by scriptural principles. The fact is that when they read the Bible, different things stand out. No political party or candidate measures up to all of God’s standards. Every political option is less than perfect. Because believers prioritize differently those biblical principles they share in common, and because they relegate biblical duties differently as between the individual and the state, whenever these believers attempt to discuss specifics, they usually talk past each other.

But there are some matters on which we can all agree. God rules the world, and — whether through our vote or in spite of it — governments rise and fall as he ordains (Dan. 4:32; Rom. 13:1-2). Regardless of our political opinions, as believers we are commanded to pay our taxes, to render honor to those holding office (Rom. 13:6-7; 1 Pet. 2:13-17) and to pray for all those in authority (1 Tim. 2:1-4). It is wrong to speak evil of rulers (2 Peter 2:9-10). Any nation that fears the Lord will reap blessing, and any country that ignores or defies God will pay a price (Prov. 14:34; Psalm 2:1-12; Rev. 18:1-24). And, when all is said and done, our citizenship is in heaven — wherever and whenever we happen to live on this earth (Phil. 3:20-21; Acts 17:24-27).

Copyright 2008 by Edward Fudge. This gracEmail may be reproduced or remailed without further permission but only in its entirety, without change and without financial charge. Visit our website here or go to www.EdwardFudge.com.<<<

 

Man-Group

31 October 2008
“You pray for me, then I’ll pray for you, you pray for me, then I’ll pray for you.” – My son Jakin, to his buddy, pretty much laying out the greatest plan for friendship and brotherhood that I’ve ever heard.
 
This last Tuesday night, a group of about 35 guys, representing at least 7 different men’s groups, gathered in my basement to celebrate, remember, re-connect with, and be inspired by Christ. It was a great time. We sang, shared, ate, confessed, laughed and prayed together. The connections we made to each other, to God, and to what we are about still has me on cloud nine.
 
And what we are about is this: we meet together with a few other men in order to take the masks off and help each other become more like Christ. It is a fellowship of fearless friendships.
 
My youngest son Jakin (5) was hangin’ around Tuesday afternoon while I was arranging the basement with some simple chairs, and when I set out a small table with some loaves of bread and drink. I didn’t think he was paying much attention.
 
But the next day, my wife called me from the house. where she was hangin’ with Jakin and one of his best buddies, Jake. She called to inform me that the two boys were downstairs in the basement. My son Jakin had come in with Jake and asked for chunks of the leftover bread from the night before and for “two cups of juice”. Then Carrie asked what he wanted them for…
 
My little boy informed her that he and Jake were he headed down to the basement to pray.
 
While Carrie prepared their sacred meal, Jakin laid out the plan to Jake. “Okay, when we get down there, you pray for me, I’ll pray for you, then you pray for me, and I’ll pray for you.”
 
And they did.
 
After Jake got picked up by his mom, Carrie asked Jakin what they prayed for. He told her, “Jake thanked God that I was his friend, I prayed for Jake, and the bread and for God’s blessing. And for none of to get sick. Then we played.”
 
That’s pretty much what I do in the basement with my buddies on Tuesday nights, too.
 

Thattaboy, Jakin. Thattaboy, Jake.

 
One of my buddies from Tuesday nights, Shane, brought his teenage son with him for the first time this past Tuesday. He told me that while he and his son Eastland were leaving, his youngest son Baylor (also 5) asked if he could come. Shane let him down gently, but Baylor, of course, persisted. So Shane told him, “you can do your own group, Baylor.” Baylor, who calls it “man-group”, hasn’t stopped talking about it ever since. He started listing his 5-year-old band of brothers that he would invite right away (and I was so happy to hear that Jakin was on his list).
 
Thattaboy, Baylor.
 
I told Jakin that he needed to call up Baylor and invite him into his man-group with he and Jake, and Jakin said, “Okay. Actuwawey, tell Baylor he can come over and meet with us every day.”
 
Thattaboy, Jakin.
 
Eastland, Shane’s oldest son, as they were going home started talking about what they just experienced, and Eastland said that a group of Christian brothers that he had just started meeting with the week before could possibly be his version of what his dad had.
 
Thattaboy, Eastland.
 
Wow. What I wouldn’t have done to have been a part of the kind of real fellowship, brotherhood, and the mutual fighting for each other’s hearts that I am a part of now way back when I was their age. Of course, I didn’t know what I didn’t know back then.
 
But I know now. I know now that “church” is made up of people in real relationship with each other prompted by their mutual pursuit of actually shaping their lives to look more like Christ’s.
 
I know now that “church fellowship” is the kind of deep, penetrating friendships that goes down below the surface of things to the “things behind the things”…down to the very heart…where the realm of the Kingdom of God resides.
 
I know now that “church service” is what I offer to people when I offer them my life for the purpose of helping them become more like Christ in theirs.
 
And, please God, let me and my brothers be teaching our kids how to live these things early.
 
 

"Making it happen" vs. "Letting it happen"

22 October 2008
“As soon as you trust yourself – deeply and truly, based on humility, not pride – you will know how to live.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 
“Am I going to die?” – My son, Shade, in the midst of a new, painful, and uncomfortable experience driving to the E.R. after falling and hitting his head
 
“There are many, many days when my work is simply to accept, bear, and endure all things, while continuing to believe (in Him) and hope (for another), no matter what – days when nothing seems to have a place, point, or purpose, when all around me seem desperately lost and screaming, either giving up or lashing out.” – Jim Spivey
 
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” – 1 Corinthians 13:7
 
One of the epic struggles of my life has been between the “make it happen” vs.. the “let it happen” approaches to things.
 
Having been a card-carrying member of the former, and having been totally taken out by it, I had to (painfully) let it go. It was stealing life from me.
 
And now being totally sold out to the the latter, and learning every day a little bit more of what that means, I’m so grateful to God…
 
* For Christ’s example of it.
* For how much simpler it is.
* For how much more effective it is.
* For how it gives me something to die for that matters.
* That in my dying, I find the life I was always trying to “make happen”.
 
Some think that a “letting it happen” lifestyle means to been apathetic, when it actually means humbly caring with your whole person without the need to control.
 
Some think that a “letting it happen” lifestyle means to be a lazy do-nothing, when it actually means “being with” the pain of the world as it happens every day without need to escape it.
 
Some think that a “letting it happen” lifestyle means running from responsibility, when it actually means to take full responsibility for “staying in the pain of yourself and others” with nothing to lean on or offer but hope.
 
Some think that a “letting it happen” lifestyle means being an inappropriately passive human being that ends up as a doormat of sorts, useless in fighting for or defending (personal or global) justice, when it actually means to lay down the sword of “forcing” things “because it’s right” and picking up the much weightier, more powerful sword of “winning” people “because of love”.
 
We all lack imagination enough to distinguish between the two, and it has been my constant call to sit in this space with people while we figure it out together. And I’m totally clear that it is much more “for me, from God” than it is “for others, from me”. 
 
How many times and how many people, after “hitting their heads”, totally disoriented by the new and uncomfortable experience they are encountering, ask some form of the question that my son asked on the way to the hospital, “Am I going to die?”
 
“No, buddy. Your not going to die,” I told him in the car, selfishly grateful that it was true.
 
His job in that car was to just “let it happen” – the pain, the disorientation, the dependence on others, and ultimately, the care, the healing, the restoration, and total awareness of the lessons that come from the experience. 
 
It takes a profound humility to “let things happen”…to bear with, endure, hope and believe all things…and to not let fear for our lives keep us from it. It’s costs us everything, and the price is so worth it.
 
It’s not what he needed to hear at the time, but I can hear the echo of a line from my favorite movie of all time, Braveheart, as I write this email, when William Wallace says, “All men die. Not all men truly live.”
 
And Jesus, right behind that, saying, “Whoever loses his life will find it.”
 
I love you.

Giving Away the Best Possible Life

17 October 2008

“What would you like me to do for you, son?” – The question God asked me this weekend.

“Make me a powerful multiplier of groups who live Christ’s life together.” – What I want God to do for me.

I have a life that I want others to have.

I don’t mean that I think I have “arrived” at some pinnacle of perfection.

I don’t mean that I want others to do what I am externally doing with my life.

I don’t mean that my life is easy. Or without temptation. Or absent of difficulty.

But I have a life that I want others to have.

It is deep in my heart, and I long for others to experience it. It can (inadequately) be described as a peacefully intense love for God and an intensely peaceful love for people. It is so much more than that, but words escape me.

It’s an ironic life, too. Because it allows for my imperfections, for me to be an unfinished man, without my using them as an excuse to do nothing, or feel hopeless, unworthy or unqualified. Since it is primarily inward, it provides an experience of joy no matter what I choose to do externally with my life. And best of all, it provides a peace (that passes understanding, maybe?) no matter what temptations or difficulties come my way.

It is a life of love.

And I love this life.

And I want it for every other human being on the planet.

And I labor to give it away daily. It costs me everything, and it pays me back in everything that matters.

It gives me a deeply personal relationship with God that, even when I exert all the energy of my heart, soul, mind, and strength, its riches are not depleted. What’s more, it gives me deeply personal relationships with people around me who I would die for and who would die for me (Jesus says there is no love greater than this…no wonder it is so satisfying). Better yet, I have people that I would live for and who would live for me (which is really what Paul means by “dying daily”).

I can safely say that know people, and I am fully known.

The freedom and security in such depth of relationship, both with God and with people, is staggering.

And I want it for everyone.

I live for God and with God. And I live for people and with people.

I am daily being impacted for good and daily making an impact for good.

It is quite simply, in my humble opinion, the best possible life.

It is the life of Christ.

And I shamelessly want to be a powerful multiplier of fellowships who live it, are learning to live it better, and giving it away to others.

For a long time I’ve asked God “how?” How do I best pass this way of life on to the multitudes that need it?

But when Jesus asked me this what I wanted from him, I didn’t ask how. I just asked him to do it.

So I’m listening and working for this, and full of faith that it will happen…and excited to see what happens.

When I came home Sunday night, my kids were sleeping soundly, and my wife was in the living room with her intimate sisterhood…girls who are becoming more like Christ together. She greeted me sweetly and with a very knowing look told me a brief story about how my oldest son (8 years old) decided to pick up a piece of paper and write down a bunch of his favorite things. She handed this too me…

Of course, my face beamed at the whole thing, but my heart gently leapt inside my chest when I read the bottom about his hero. It was a mixture of deep satisfaction and hope, but also of sobering responsibility and fear.

My wife then said, “After he wrote that and was going to bed, he said, ‘I want to write one more thing, then I’ll go to bed, I promise.’ You have to go check it out…he left it on the desk next to his bed.”

Excited, I made my way to his dimly lit bedroom where he was peacefully sleeping, and I grabbed the little slip of paper he left under his pencil on his little desk. I choked up as I read…

“The life,” he said. Not life…but “the life”.

Now I know he’s 8. There will be a season, if not longer, where he won’t feel this way. Not looking forward to it, but eager to persevere through it and learn from it. But for now, in the quiet of my son-turning-young-man, I fall on my knees in gratitude and hope that Carrie and I live “the life” in a way that this note captures my kids’ hearts now and when they are old…come what may.

I prayed… “Please, Father, let this be so…in my wife and kids first, and then through our family to the world…show me how to stay in, teach, and multiply “the life.”

A Sacred Weekend

23 September 2008

I’m sitting in an airport just a few hours away from my reunion with my family, and just a few hours removed from finishing a weekend retreat with about 100 students from Pepperdine University.

 

It was a great weekend for me personally for at least a half dozen reasons:

 

  • They wanted me to share about following Jesus – pretty much the only thing I feel passionate enough to talk about
  • This is my first "speaking engagement" in a long time, and I re-engaged my old ego-based demons associated with that – quite the humbling experience
  • I got to engage in toil side-by-side with a sister-in-arms that I really respect, who has honored and encouraged me by being attentive to my life-long journey – and I got to see and participate in a work she is dying for daily.
  • I got to meet another capable, gifted, and loving couple who has joined her in the work there – and I instantly loved them both deeply.
  • I experienced a very loving, global-minded, receptive, transforming group of college-age students who are eager to "figure it out" in their own hearts while also looking for ways to "change the world" for it’s good.
  • I got to bond personally with a few of these folks, and experienced the powder-keg of energy and desire that resides deep in this generation – and it made me want to connect with, learn from, guide, and make room for them to "do their thing"…because when they do, watch out! It will be very, very different, and very, very good…more like Christ.

 

I’m still trying to explain to myself what I witnessed in these "kids" this weekend. In one respect, it was just a typical college-age, Christian weekend retreat…complete with beautiful hills and trees, mess hall, swimming pool, football field, and boys and girls cabins (and Fabio (yes, I said Fabio), the cook, and his crew provided very acceptable food).

 

But as I talked about Jesus, about his heart and desire for them, about his sacred calling for their lives, his sacred motive of love, his sacred strategy for changing the world through relationships…I saw a common desire lighting up behind their eyes.

 

A desire for a better life. A better way of life. A better way of "doing Christianity".

 

And while I was very encouraged, and excited…I think more than anything, I was affirmed. I was validated. Does that make sense? As I said, I’m still figuring it out, but I confess that sometimes I think that I’m crazy. Seriously. I walk around wondering if I am the only one feeling the way I am feeling. 

 

But this weekend, I was clearly presented with evidence that I am not.

 

I was very blessed this weekend by this group, and they were very gracious to let me share about my life and passion, about Jesus Christ and his life, and how he wants to use us to change the world globally by loving very deeply, personally, and "transformingly" locally. Just like Christ (who changed the world globally having never travelled more than, what, a hundred or so miles locally).

 

I shared about a God that I am very excited about, but I do that all the time, and I’m just insecure enough to think that maybe no one wants to hear, or no one needs this God like I do, or no one understands just how incredible great the life He offers is.

 

One of the students had set up an "e-card" station — full of paper, paint, colors, markers — for everyone to sit down and create an "encouragement card" for each other. A beautiful heart named Abby told me she would make me one (after I complained out loud that I was feeling left out), and she made a "crayon card"…and on the inside she wrote:

 

 

 

 

I sure would never have thought to put it that way, but that is exactly how I feel…I know that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, but He’s also new every morning, and so whenever I find something new about God (or rediscover something old), through Christ, I feel like the kid with a new box of perfect crayons and I want to share him, and my excitement about him, with EVERYONE so they can see how awesome He is!

 

As it turns out, Jesus let me feel him again, through these young and energetic and "open to life" students, many of whom are hungry for guides and mentors who will be open to them and their vision for a new world, and will join them in forging it.

 

I would be honored to be one, and I hope I have something to offer them, but I sure know that they have a whole lot to offer me.

 

Across the generations, across the nation, let us all join Christ on his sacred mission of changing the world…starting with ourselves.

  

 

Silence and Solitude

3 September 2008
(I have been home from this time of silence and solitude for weeks, but am only just now posting it. Sorry for the timeline confusion.)
 
“Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. – Genesis 1:2
 
I am two weeks into my annual 3-week sabbatical from my regular duties and routines that I perform on behalf of the Southwest Church of Christ.
 
This is my fourth one of these. It was given to me by the good and gracious people of the Southwest Church of Christ, who enable and support me in my attempt to live the life of Christ in their world here in Amarillo.
 
Each year, I have included within these three weeks, among other things, 3 days with a mentor of mine, 3 days with my kids (one full 24 hour period exclusively with each one), and 3 days of silence and solitude.
 
I began my silence and solitude today.
 
Of all the things I do, I most look forward to this. But I also find it the most difficult.
 
I look forward to it, I think, because my intention is to have nothing to do but be with God. It is a romantic thought, to be sure, and one I can’t let go of. I long to be with God (although sometimes I have to settle for longing to long to be with God), and retreating “away from it all” with the intent to be with Him just feels right. Also, it always seems to be costly and inconvenient for me and those around me, enough so for me to be tempted to see it as an impractical luxury. It’s almost like something is opposing my practice of it every year, which anyone who knows me knows that that just makes me want to fight for it all the more.
 
But the biggest reason I’m so attached to it is because of Jesus. He did it.
 
After Herod beheaded Jesus’ cousin John, Matt 14:13 says that “when Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place.”


After a full day of ministry and the people were coming and the demand for Jesus was growing, it says in Mark 1:35 that “very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.”

From the beginning of his ministry to the end, he modeled this for me. There is the 40 days of solitude and prayer that Jesus had after his ministry-initiating baptism, and there was his desperate, night-time retreat into the Garden of Gethsemane for a some intense solo time with God at the end of his ministry.
 
And even if I didn’t have all the examples, I have Dr. Luke’s summary observation in Luke 5:16 – “Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
 

When I’m at my best, I’m retreating often, too, to lonely places and praying. At my best, I go out to the Palo Duro Canyon weekly for extended time with God, in addition to regular “retreats” into myself wherever I am in my busy day, finding that lonely spot where I am most aware of God.
 
But this annual 3 day event always tests me. What do I do? What part should the Bible play? Should I study? Should I read? Should I sit in the lotus position all day and meditate? Should I fast? Should I organize each day with a theme? Should I spend the time interceding for people? For my family? For the church I serve? For the lost?
 
Each year, regardless of my plan, it seems I spend much of my time trying to NOT do things, more than figuring out what I’m going to do.
 
So today, I spent hours just sitting on a bridge, by a lake, in the rain (it’s a covered bridge), surrounded by incredible landscapes of threatening clouds and rumbling 10-second long surround-sound thunder…calling my thoughts away from my regular distractions, calling my body not just do something, but stand there. 
 
It was way hard. I’ve taken a special interest in prayer, and feel like I’ve prayed a lot in my life, but I still found myself uttering the words, with very real humility and confusion, “Jesus, teach me to pray.” I found myself agreeing with something I read once, “when it comes to prayer, we are all still beginners.”
 
I prayed the Lord’s Prayer, sort of empty, hoping for some magic to pop out of them. I did several other things as I was straining to hear God’s direction for me, and as uneventful as it was, I just feel good and like I’m where I’m supposed to be.
 
So, this first half day is pretty typical of what I’ve experienced each year doing this…it could be described quite accurately as “formless” and “void”. Which took me right back to the beginning, to the quote from Genesis above…and it struck me! Both the “darkness” and the “Spirit of God” were present there over the formless and void earth.
 
So I’m right where I need to be…getting out of “planning” and “thinking” and “git-er-done” addictions and just being in the darkness of the void of activity that I’m here to practice, expecting once again for the Spirit of God to be there.
 
Dear Father:
Flare up my love for You, O God.
Ruin my life.
I have built a life of loving others in Your Name,
And would trade it all for oneness with You.
I love You more than I love my work for You,
but, oh, how I love to work for You.
Where I am too comfortable, disrupt me.
Where I am ignoring You, hurt me.
Get my attention, once again.
Mold me into the image of Your son, Jesus Christ.
Let your Kingdom come and will be done,
Here in me as it is in Heaven.
Let me live in the present alone, O God.
Save me from my past! From my future!
Only let me be still and know You are God.
That is enough for me.
 
Enjoy me, O God, the creation of Your hands!
And open my eyes to be aware of your delight,
That is enough for me.
 
Here I am, I am Yours.
Examine me and find every offensive way.
Help me not run from your refining fire.
Help me not run to the noise of the Olympics,
Or the hiding place of helping others in their needs,
Or the avoidance tactic of “doing your work.”
Help me not run to the priority of “family” if it is taking me from You.
 
Give me the nothingness, the emptiness, the darkness
That so many of the prayer master’s write about.
Give me the unlearning that I need,
The detachment from the slavery of needing to please men, or myself.
Give me total apathy for the politics and ways of this world,
enough for me to be Yours alone.
 
And then, Jesus, make me useful in this world,
For Your Fame, my joy, and Your son’s glory.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
 

Coming Down – Mountain Chronicles V

3 September 2008
“God was very good to put the ‘going down’ part of mountain climbing trips at the end.” – Your truly, while coming down the mountain
 
“What are you, O mighty mountain? Before [God’s man] you will become level ground. Then he will bring out the capstone to shouts of ‘God bless it! God bless it!'” – Zach 4:7
 
We woke up to our last morning on the mountain. Before us was the task of packing everything once again on our backs, hiking down the 6.5 miles that we hiked up, and doing so with the deadline of when the Durango-Silverton train would arrive at Needleton.  
 
There was much excitement stirring in us. We had a lot to come down for. Among them:
 
* Four ice-cold cans of Dr. Pepper than we hid near the train stop in the chilly waters of Needle Creek,
* The comfort of an “indoor” experience on the train.
* The concession car.
* Accessibility to a toilet.
* Hearing the voices of our families once in cell phone range.
* A car that carries us up-hills with the mere push of a pedal.
* A hotel hot-tub.
* A warm shower in the hotel.
* A feast of non-freeze dried food we would celebrate over that evening.
* A bed in a climate-controlled room complete with a pillows, lights, sheets, blankets and a TV.
 
It’s amazing how those things that I take for granted all of the time, most of which I don’t really need, become such motivators when I’ve been deprived of them for just a short time.
 
But more than anything, the most immediate and inward reward for me would come from what awaited us on the other side of that bridge over the Animas River. When we would take our packs off our backs for the last time and sit on the railroad ties waiting to wave the train down, the deep and satisfied feeling of faithfulness. The feeling of following through. Of doing something that mattered even when it was hard, inconvenient, and full of doubt. The feeling of getting to say “we did that” and “we did that together”.
 
There is a deep excitement in the anticipation of doing something.
 
There is a different, but equally deep excitement in the actual doing of the something.
 
And there is also an excitement that comes with the thing being done, and it’s transition into becoming a memory. I think I love them all, but this one is strangely special to me.
 
Memories are awesome. I’m not sure why. Maybe because they represent things that are permanent and unchangeable in a world where it seems there is not much of that. 
 
Beautiful memories are tools for our current joy, funny memories are tools for our current laughter, painful memories are tools for our current healing, and formative memories are tools for our current teaching. All memories, in the sharing of them, are tools for our current relationship building (“baptism” into the fellowship of men that meet in my basement on Tuesday nights is to take a turn in the “hot seat,” where you share your whole story from birth to now. An impossible task without memory. We always initiate this ritual with the words, “make us your friends tonight” – meaning: tell us everything). Memories are just cool.
 
My buddy Keith wrote me today and said he has enjoyed reading these chronicles with his son, and that he is amazed at how much he has already forgotten. Me too.
 
But I don’t worry much about that. I know I have forgotten some of the greatest stories. But honestly, they seem to come right back whenever I need them or they need to serve a purpose that God wants served through or in me.
 
Anyway, we had a great and relatively speedy hike down. We found our hidden Dr. Peppers, went across the bridge way before our deadline to catch the train, sat down and sure enough, the feelings I was most looking forward to came rushing in. It was awesome.
 
The only thing we now HAD to do was wait. I love times like this (okay, in my frantic and normal days, I hate times like this…but in this setting, I loved it…and I need to learn to love it more). Waiting forces me into the present. I can’t do anything else that I MUST do, so I have to find something TO do. I looked around with hours to kill, and, Hey! Look! There’s my son, Shade!
 
That may sound strange that I noticed my son Shade since I have been with him 24-7 for days now, but that’s how it is, isn’t it? I’ve heard it said that “you are where your thoughts are,” and even in the constant presence of my beloved son, I find myself leaving him for other things that aren’t right there. (This is often how my prayer life with God seems to go, too. And appointments that I have with people in my office. And date night with my wife.) So, with nothing to do but wait, and rediscovering that I’m getting to be with my son…
 
Shade and I spent the couple of hours there exploring around this Needleton spot. We found a boarded up old outhouse that I’m sure was used by the gold miners back in the day while waiting for this same train (Shade squeezed in and used it before he called me over to check it out). We found what looked like an old ticketing station. We went down by the river and found an incredible outcropping of stones, where we searched for unique ones to take home as gifts for the family. We found a perfectly round one that looked like a ball for Jakin. We found one that would stand up and had the shape of a cross engraved in it naturally for Shade’s mom. We found a heart shaped one for Callie. And then, believe it or not, we found one in the shape of a cannon for Shade Canon Mashburn to take home. We also found a very nice campsite down the tracks a bit…we laughed that we were sure it was there for mountain climbers who didn’t make the train deadline and had to set up camp here until the next day…and we were glad we made it!
 
The blessed train horn bellowed in the distance, and Shade got on the tracks as the engine came around the mountain. He and I did the special wave of his arms that they told us to do to stop the train, it did, we loaded up and settled in for the 3 hour ride back to Durango.
 
Side note: As the train started to inch forward, a backpacker dude came running across the bridge from the wild, yelling for the train to wait, which it didn’t, and the four of us looked at each other with deep compassion for the guy. We were smiling, though, because we understood exactly what that guy was feeling.
 
I was glad not to be him, but at the same time, there was a part of me (small…very small) that likes when things happen that take my choices away. If I HAD to stay one more night in the mountains, I would’ve done it. And it would’ve ended up great. It would’ve had all the secret treasures that “forced waiting” has.
 
It was very easy to enjoy the train ride down. It felt so good to be moving, and not by our own power.
 
What a grace this trip was. The lessons continue to this day. The memory of it is still serving us actively. Almost like Christ is still moving in us through this trip, but not by our own power.
 
The mountain represented a wild challenge for us. A mighty and overwhelming challenge, in so many ways, and we were walking into it. Having made it successfully, I connect with the spirit of the quote above from Scripture: “What are you mighty mountain? You have been made flat ground (achievable, explorable, experiencable) by God before our feet. You, the challenge, have become our blessing and teacher. God bless you! God bless you! God bless you!”
 
“‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the LORD Almighty.” – Zech 4:6 
 
 

On Staying Connected (and to whom)

28 August 2008
“Oh, when will that blessed and desired hour come, so that You can fill me with Your presence and be to me my all in all? Until this is granted to me, I will not have complete joy.” – Thomas a’ Kempis
 
I’m almost 24 hours into my 3 days of silence and solitude.
 
It’s killin’ me to not be in touch with my wife and kids.
 
Really. It’s amazing how addicted I am to periodic 30 second phone calls to Carrie. How accustomed I am to knowing that my wife and kids can get a hold of me any time they need to. Or just want to. I get a little stir crazy being totally inaccessible.
 
I’m enjoying the silence and solitude. I’ve been very still, slow, and deliberate. I’ve re-engaged The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis (there is something about that book for me), continued reading Phillip Yancy’s book on Prayer, made a big deal with God about each simple meal I’ve eaten, slept for 10 hours last night (!), caught a turtle, some minnows, some half-developed tadpole-frogs, a Bluegill fish, chased a white-tailed rabbit, a wild turkey, saw a beautiful hawk in flight, and even encountered a Coyote. 
 
So, I’m enjoying it. But already, I have caught myself on the verge of “cheating”. I brought my cell phone with me, even though service is sparce out here on the ranch, just in case my wife needs me for some emergency. Comically, I find myself checking it, hoping there was an emergency and she has called. 
 
She hasn’t (and won’t, unless it is a true emergency), but I have gotton a couple of texts from some buddies, and I mindlessly and automatically started texts to both of them before I realized cyber-contact is contact nonetheless.
 
I’m not trying to be legalistic or anything about this, rather, I’m trying to be aware of how much of my energy is spent “staying connected,” and how much I am distracted and hindered by it. Maybe even addicted to it.
 
Out here on the ranch, I get to drive a cool, all-terrain, mean and green German Pinzgauer around to my various destinations of solitude and beauty. It has no gas gauge, but if it runs out, there is just enough gas in the emergency gas can to get it to town in order to fill it (and the gas can) back up. I stalled out in some mud this afternoon and was sort of hoping that it was out of gas (it wasn’t). Anything for an excuse for some interpersonal action, it seems.
 
I might not have written about this minor phenomena I’m experiencing had I not just been struck by these challenging thoughts:
 
Do I get this stir crazy when I’m not in touch with Christ?
Am I equally addicted to periodic “touches” with God?
Am I accustomed to knowing that the Father can “get a hold of me” any time He needs to? Or wants to?
Do I mindlessly find myself drifting off into the Holy Spirit?
How much energy do I spend “staying connected” to Jesus?
 
Wow. Thoughts like these don’t come to me until I disconnect from the Matrix and view it from the outside looking in. No wonder Jesus “often withdrew to lonely places to pray”. He didn’t want to get lost in the matrix. How easy would it have been for him to find his value in being valued by others? Or being amazing to others? Or to think his own self-promotion was the same as promoting God? Or his own self-protection was protecting God’s work through him?
 
God is enough for me. But I forget this almost every day. Remind me, Father, every moment.
 
“Alas! The old nature still lives in me and is not wholly crucified, not perfectly dead.” – Thomas a’ Kempis

The Rewards of the "Summit" – The Mountain Chronicles IV

27 August 2008
“God will take care of us.” – Keith, with perfect calm, to his son Zach as we watched the dark afternoon clouds threaten us at our mountain “summit”
 
We all slept much better our 2nd night on the mountain. For me, I think it was a combination of the flatter ground we were laying on and my altitude headache being gone.
 
We got up the next cold morning, had our precious cup of hot chocolate, some breakfast, then packed our day packs for our “summit” climb.
 
I put “summit” in quotation marks because we did not have our sites set on actually climbing Windom, Sunlight, or Eulos…the three 14ers surrounding the basin we were staying in. They are some challenging climbs, with some parts being borderline technical…so we weren’t going to take our kids up there at this young age. Our primary search was for the “cave” – an old gold mine that I had found an antique chisel in over a decade ago (I found it twice, actually, and you can read that story in my piece entitled “The Mountain” in my blog archives at http://brianmashburn.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html). And our secondary goal was the Twin Lakes, well up over the treeline (12,000+), and the staging point for anyone going to any of the three 14,000 foot summits.
 
Keith had no real personal attachment to finding the old gold mine aside from wanting me to find it, so inwardly I was hoping my memory was serving me correctly that we found that thing on or near the route that leads to the Twin Lakes. All I could remember is that it was just to the left of a waterfall, and that the first 20 feet or so were full of 1 to 2 feet of ice cold water. And I was not looking forward to wading through it, drenching my socks and shoes. But I was willing to, and already preparing myself to ferry Shade, Zach and Keith through it on my back, just so that their socks and shoes stayed dry. 
 
A couple of our hours into our hike, after we started gaining some serious elevation, a man who was on a seriously fast pace hiked by. We visited with him for a minute. He had come from the other side of a mountain ridge over the Columbine Pass. You could see the path across the basin, which was a mountain climb in and of itself, and looked miles away (cuz it was!). He had gotten up VERY early this morning, leaving his wife and son camping on the other side, to try to get one of the 14ers on our side of the basin. It humbled me to compare his day’s hike to mine, and it also explained his fast pace. We all started walking, and Shade with his energetic 5 million questions decided to hike with our new friend.
 
Shade flew ahead of us with him, talking to him the whole time with all kinds of conversation: “How far is the Twin Lakes? That’s where we’re going. Do you know there’s a mine where my dad found a spike? We’re lookin’ for it. He has the spike in his prayer room. It’s heavy! Rusty, too. We’re gonna go in it and look around. It’s real dark in there. Have you been in any mines this trip? How old is your son? Why didn’t he come with you today? I came with my dad. Where are you from? We’re from Amarillo. I hike in the Canyon like this all the time. Have you been to the Canyon? The Palo Duro Canyon? You want to sometime? Your son and you can stay in our basement if you want and we’ll take you. That’s my friend Zach, and his dad…they stayed in our basement before. Does your son like Pokémon cards? Which cards does he have? Does he have any Charizards? Those are my favorites. Zach has a Charizard EX!”
 
The man was very kind.
 
Eventually, we got to a very tall and powerful waterfall that looked very familiar to me. I wasn’t sure, but this might be it. From our vantage point, however, we couldn’t see whether there was  a mine to it’s left. We had to make a choice. Either go ahead and cross the waterfall here, making our way up the mountain on the other side of the falls, where we would eventually get up high enough to see whether there was a mine or not, risking that if it is, we would either have to come all the way back down here to get up to it, or try to cross back over the falls up there (which is more dangerous), OR we could go ahead and start climbing up the left side of this fall here, risking that it’s not there at all, and either having to come all the way back down, or try to cross the falls up higher (which would be much more difficult).
 
The air was feeling thinner and thinner all of the sudden.
 
As I looked back and forth at our choices, I saw that Shade’s friend was way up the path on the other side of the river. The falls were loud by him, but I yelled as loud as I could anyway. Somehow he heard me, stopped and looked down at us. I pointed up and yelled, “Is there a mine right there?” I don’t know if he could really hear me, or if he just knew what we were looking for thanks to Shade, but he looked where I was pointing, pointed and nodded real big. YES! We headed up…
 
It was a respectable tough climb, and a very satisfying feeling came over me as we navigated the rubble and descended into that old familiar cave. While there was still water in the mouth of the cave, it was low enough and short enough that we could sort of scale the left side and all jump across without getting our shoes drenched. We busted out our flashlights and disappeared into the moist and pitch black cave, going all the way to the end (maybe 200 feet?).
 
At this point, I wish there was some climactic event that happened to tell you: A burning bush would’ve been nice, or archangel Michael with a message from God for Shade sitting in the back, or some old Hebrew script etched out on the cave walls by the finger of God. Shoot, I’d be good with finding another old chisel for Shade to have! But there was nothing like that. We did the echo thing, and the turn-off-the-flashlight-to-experience-the-pitch-black thing, but it’s kinda creepy in there and it didn’t take long for our boys to do the “I’m-ready-to-go” thing. I was too.
 
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t disappointed. The rewards for me are legion: the journey here (my 3rd time), being with my son in a challenging environment, the forging of brotherhood between the four of us here, the memories it brought back from fellowships past, the beauty to behold, the cost to behold it, the anticipation of success, the satisfaction of success, the thoughts of home…just to name a few.
 
When we were done, we decided to stay at our current elevation and attempt to cross the waterfall…which at this height was actually FOUR separate waterfalls, all wider, and more difficult than what we had to do below, and with no trail. It was challenging, and we made it with celebration. Shade, of course, always wanted to go first and blaze the way, and oftentimes (here and elsewhere) would be-bop back and forth over the streams, hopping from rock to rock, all in the name of showing us how to do it, but mostly because he just loves it (such unnecessary and risky fun would have been quite nerve-racking for his mom).
 
Many hours, mountain-goats, marmots, and rest-stops later (and after I dropped my water bottle down a cliff of the mountain (amazingly, we found it on the way down)), we made it to the beautiful Twin Lakes. One of the lakes was almost totally covered in snow, but the other one was mirror-still and vast. We stayed here for quite a while, ate lunch, skipped rocks, Shade danced with a playful marmot, explored, took pictures, visited with the occasional hiker on their way back from the peaks. It was beautiful in every way for our group: between us, around us, within us, below us, above us.
 
Boy the clouds were threatening. We’d been rained/hailed on every day and it was getting about that time in the afternoon. Zach voiced what I was thinking to his dad by saying, “We better get going, we don’t want to have to go down in that rain. Let’s get back to camp.”
 
That’s when Keith responded with the calm and confident quote from above. I relaxed with his words, knowing them to be true. We enjoyed our time without any rain. When we were ready, we packed up and made the long (but not near as long) trek down to our camp. And to put an exclamation point on Keith’s prophetic and confident words, we got back late afternoon, right in time to get all of us in the tent, totally dry, with a deck of cards just as the rain came down. We had some sweet fellowship in there.
 
“Life is about fully experiencing “right now” to the fullest, bringing all of who you are to the moment right before you and to the other people who you truly care about, knowing that there are no guarantees of next week or next year or when they get their act together, and it is all good for you in the end, surrendering all resistance to that fact in the fire of your own redemption.  What fire, you might ask:  “Life is not the wick, or the candle, but the burning.”” – Jim Spivey, my friend, mentor, and fellow “burner”

Unstoppable Energy – The Mountain Chronicles III

26 August 2008
(I unintentionally sent this one out before I had finished it a little over a week ago…here is the final product. Sorry about that!)
 
This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object.” – The Joker, in the movie The Dark Knight
 
One of the things I really enjoyed about this trip was being with my son Shade 24-7. We did everything together (I mean everything…eat, sleep, hike, move, rest, poop, pee, drive, explore, collapse…everything) every single day. We got tired of each other, served each other, joked with each other, listened to each other, got sick, frustrated, and angry with each other, and survived each other.
 
So that was cool, but also cool for me was experiencing some of the unique qualities that are Shade so clearly and constantly.
 
Shade has energy. Even when he is tired and worn out, he can’t seem to not exhibit energy. 
 
When we would take breaks that involved taking our packs off, Shade would be running down to the water, exploring an old miners cabin, or throwing rocks.
When we would be hiking in his toughest moments, his complaints and ailings would be expressed with profound energy.
When we were at camp, he was non-stop energy.
When he wanted to talk about Pokémon Cards with his buddy Zach, he was overwhelming energy.
When we were going to sleep, he always had the last word…and yes, you guessed it, it was said with energy even if his audience was asleep!
 
I shared in Mountain Chronicles II how tough the long hike up the mountain was for Shade, but whenever he didn’t have a pack on, he was desiring non-stop action.
 
Nowhere was this better expressed than on Day 2. Day 1 ended with us hiking about 4.5 miles, finding an adequate temporary campsite for the night, setting up our tent in a threatening sprinkle but before the hard rain, eating our first hot meal (mac and cheese), and settling into our sleeping bags. We were on a respectable incline, and slid towards our feet constantly, and I slept horribly, with a lingering headache irritating me all night (this has always happened to me my first day in high altitude, only to disappear with my giving in to nausea (which happened the next morning) and then I’m fine the rest of the trip). It was a less than ideal night, but boy was it good to not be walking.
 
On day 2, we had our precious daily hot chocolate, ate some breakfast, packed up, and kept hiking. We went another mile and half or so and found a beautiful spot to set up our base camp. After we set up, we decided to pack our day packs and go exploring up into the basin…maybe hit an old gold mine or two. This, of course, pumped Shade up. We started hiking, and Zach started getting a headache…but courageously decided to keep going. We were probably about 3/4 mile up from our camp when the clouds came swooping in and it started pouring a drenching rain. We got our raingear on in the nick of time, and spotted an old abandoned campsite thick with trees up ahead. As we headed there, the heavens seem to turn the water up a bit more, and then opened the ice-box as it turned to hail! I’m smiling as we rush under the trees with nothing to do but get drenched and wait it out. I wasn’t smiling for Zach though, who squats down under one of the thick pines and huddles up in his raingear…I felt horrible for him sitting there quite miserable. Keith was smiling too with what I interpreted as that “What did we get ourselves into” look…a look echoing his statement when we crossed the bridge on day 1. All things considered, I felt like we were in a pretty good place to wait out the storm.
 
But Shade…Shade was wondering why we were stopped! “Let’s go!” he kept saying. I was the “immovable object” here, totally resolute in my decision to stay right here until it let up. And Shade was the “unstoppable force,” trying in dozens and dozens of ways to try to change my decision.
 
One time, it was, “Okay, lets go,” in an assuming tone that was pretending this was just a short breather/break that had nothing to do with the weather.
Another time, it was, “Look…it’s letting up!” Which wasn’t true, but maybe I’d fall for it.
Yet again, he switched to the logical approach: “Dad, let’s get to the cave. It will protect us way better than these trees!” (A really good point, actually)
Several times they were of the “Are we gonna just stand here all day?” family: “We’re losing daylight, dad.” “Okay, fine. We’ll wait. How many more minutes?” “Did we come all the way up here just to stand under these trees?”
 
I’m cracking up out loud on the plane just replaying them in my mind. Shade is an unstoppable force of energy!
 
But I’m not budging. Everything…EVERYTHING…except Shade’s energy…says stay right where you are until it lets up. So…I’m pulling out all my different flavors of trying to get him to realize the parameters of what is not going to change.
 
I used the detailed explanation approach: “Shade, it’s raining and hailing. We are going to stay here until it stops.”
I used the “did-you-hear-me?” approach: “Shade, do you remember when I said we will move? When it stops.
The “make-your-kid-say-it-back-to-you” approach: “Shade, when did I say we will go?” “When the hail stops,” he said, “So when does that mean we’ll move?” “When the hail stops,” he confirmed.
The “point-out-his-persistence-as-futile” approach: “Shade, what did I say last time you asked to go?” “No,” he said. “So in 30 seconds, when you ask again, what am I gonna say?” “No,” he said. “So do you need to ask again?” “No,” he conceded.
 
But of course, he would anyway. I can’t even remember all the different ways he and I went back and forth. It reminds me of a wild horse that just will not to be broken, and the cowboys trying every horse-breaking strategy known to man, and then just looking bewildered and in awe at the beautiful animal in the pen, refusing to agree with them that he belongs there behind a fence with a saddle and bridle.
 
My favorite expression of his energy, and his creativity, had a touché’ sort of flair to it when he said, “Dad…what are we supposed to do when it gets hard?” (You’ll have to back up and read Mountain Chronicles II to appreciate the genius of that one).
 
But I wasn’t budging…I thought. Alas, just like the strong rock eventually gives way to and is shaped by the relentless, non-stop dripping of (seemingly) weaker water, I suddenly found myself making a case for why it actually might be good to keep going.
 
Everything…EVERYTHING…except Shade’s energy said stay right there until it lets up. But something about Shade’s energy is compelling. I do it sometimes, but I don’t think I was just “giving in” to his persistence here, as if tired of being “immovable”. I think it was 1/3rd my desire to give him what he wants, 1/3rd agreement with him that mere weather shouldn’t stop us from pressing on, and 1/3rd my utter respect for his “unbreakableness” (I always root for the horse in those movies that depict the battle between it’s wild spirit and then men trying to break ’em…wishing I could open the corral gate and let it free before it’s too late). I know the math doesn’t add up, but there might have been another 1/3 of me wishing it was me saying “let’s keep going!”
 
The water was coming down so thick and fast, that the ground above us couldn’t saturate it fast enough, so we watched as the water started inching its way on top of the ground, infringing on our feet. This was the straw that I was waiting for to break the camels back, so I looked at Keith and said we were gonna keep going…knowing that he needed to stay there with brave Zach who was in pain. 
 
So…to the question of “what happens when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object?” I don’t know, really, but when the unstoppable force is Shade’s energy, and the immoveable object in my will, I know for sure what happens. We find out the immovable object isn’t really immovable!
 
Long story short, we started cutting through some meadows that were drenched with water, saw a quickly rising river ahead that we were going to have to ford, and all of this with no signs of the hail letting up. After giving it a go, Shade yelled through the hammering of hail, “Okay, dad…let’s go back.”
 
It was a wise choice…and probably the wisest choice would’ve been to not waste the energy trying what we were trying in the first place. But for some reason, I didn’t feel any kind of “I told you so.” On the contrary, I found myself exhilarated and energized because we tried. 
 
And for that, I’m so thankful for Shade’s energy. Because I wouldn’t have had the exhilaration and energy if he wasn’t there as the lone voice saying let’s go…when everything, EVERYTHING else said to stay put.  
 
So that was cool…experiencing so clearly and constantly some of the unique qualities that are Shade.
 
Can’t wait to do something like this with Callie and Jakin, too.
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