Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thursday's Wednesday Post
While walking along the rocky shoreline one morning this week, Bentley courageously barking at the gentle breakers and sniffing tide pools, I planted my foot on what I thought was a dry and steady rock covered with rough green-black moss and orange lichen. And I slipped, catching myself before almost falling onto the sawtooth edges of the surrounding boulders. There was no harm done, but the close call hit me later that day while I was reading and considering how magically the horizon appeared to melt together with the varnished steel of the water. **Note to the casual tide poolist: do not attempt while wearing flip-flops.
Like when exploring unfamiliar mosaics of bouldered shorelines, the terrain of relationships we traverse across through life often appear as dry, solid and steady footing. So, we plant our foot thinking it will hold...and we slip. And sometimes we catch ourselves. And sometimes we fall. And sometimes the jagged edges tear. And in time the bruises and cuts scab over like lichen or green-black moss. And we set out again. But today, During this stumbled moment I realized that the footing has nothing to do with the surface or path I take or mist or waves breaking over the rocks. It has everything to do with what you "see" as your rock. The things of this world and our ways for traversing life's surfaces challenges will always offer unpredictable footing.
Ps 18:2 The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
QUESTION: When was the last time you slipped? What rock were you standing on? How did you stready yourself to move ahead?
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Book Segment #7
November 7, 2005
Thirty Thousand and Descending. Maybe.
I have not opened this document on my computer in almost two months. That reinforces the nagging fact that days and weeks and months are evaporating much faster than I realize. It hit me hard the other day, October 20, to be exact, when I remembered the anniversary of my father’s passing. Three years? It must only be the third year, right? “Brian, can you believe it has been four years since your father died,” my mother asked during my recent visit to Dallas. I lose track of time benchmarks more easily these days. I notice it when I reminded of events like the 9/11 attacks, the death of Princess Di, my college days, the drowning of Natalie Woods [I miss her!], the first Star Wars movie. Maybe it’s God’s way of reminding us that His eternal pocket watch is our best timepiece. . The now time zone. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that as we get older our lives are filled up with so many “things” and “demands” and “schedules” and…. We struggle to experience even a glimpsed moment of awe. Maybe that’s why so many of us long for 3 or 4 days of doing…nothing important. Just read a book and fall asleep in the worn old arms of that favorite chair. Take a long walk with nothing to figure out, but the next turn. Surrender to a quiet weekend of solitude and listening to nothing, and hearing everything. Still.
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14
Maybe. Just maybe.
November 8, 2005
Hey, Sis. [A recent email response to a conversation with my sister in Hamden, Connecticut]
Hey sis. Love your heart ramblings. They make me smile and feel warm inside. I am glad for the progress on each of your spiritual fronts. Lean in. He will catch you. Trust that.
A “little thing” to start discovering, which might just be one of the ways God speaks to you, is by noticing pennies. Think about the pennies you see at random times, the ones most people walk past and ignore. Just a penny. Dirty. Run over. Scratched and worn. Not worth the time and effort to lean over and pick up. Have you ever passed one by? Try to think of them next time as small “kisses from God”; moments, little tidbits reminding you that God is there, not thundering onto the scene on a flaming chariot through the billowing clouds, or appearing in a burning bush, or even from behind a large curtain in OZ (“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”) -- but in the simplest and tiniest of things. Seemingly worthless, Usually unnoticed. Ignored. Just one filthy penny laying in your path.
Amazingly, I find pennies most often when struggling through an emotional issue, or at some low point, or when crying out for a moment of mercy. Like tonight, when I took a different path to walk the dogs…and there it was. Nuzzled in a wound in the pavement, blending with the grime and tar. Unnoticed, unless you were looking. And were willing to stop, bend over and pick it up .Know what? Jesus did not look for the shiny coins, the shimmering leaders showcasing their glittering images of wisdom and power. He instead sought the prostitutes, criminals, blind, weak, broken, worthless lives. He picked them up. One at a time.
The blessings are there. If you look. If you stop, If you see. And remember… pennies picked up ADD UP. Just like blessings.I have about 20 of them lined up along my dresser. Try it sometime. It makes cents!!
Love you.
Blessings -- Bro
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday's Thursday Post
This is the first week where there has not been any comments posted in response to a book segment...I think. :) This does not suprise me, as the content was fairly dark and hurtful for both Valerie and me. One of the amazing parts of this process has been the experience of revisiting the story in deliberate segments. Four years later I thought I was past most of the feelings. Not the case. Here's what I gain from this "ah ha":
- You never forget -- the feelings, both light and dark just get tucked into a chest of drawers, or in some cases deep in a pants pocket. One remains filed for those moments when you open the drawer and bring them out into the; and then you close the drawer once again. The other you carry on your self. The more you carry, the heavier it gets. Not to say anything about how strange you look with these bulging protrusions on each hip; not a good look and not easy to walk. Bad picture.
- After years of carrying heavy objects and screwing up my wardrobe, I celebrate the realization and acceptance of a God who asks...let me say this again -- He ASKS us to take it all off our shoulders, or in this case out of our pockets. BTW...he'll move the furniture, too!
See along in the "cave-way" .
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Book Segement #6
September 5, 2005
Fissures
Another splinter of time. The sting of loneliness imbedded. Opening this journal today it feels like the isolation is cracking through its worn leather. Then, the warm syrup of Your light seeps through the fissures; the pain lifts, the tears dry, a hesitant smile spills over the chipped curb of my lips. The empty saucer of this minute fills. \
September 8, 2005
Why does it feel as though the more I seek Your face, the louder I cry out for You to save me from my enemies; the demons that lurk like hungry red dogs gnawing at the blood-smeared meat of denial. The more I surrender, gutted before You, I feel even more desperate, isolated, frightened. Is this when You are actually closest to me? Is this what this faith thing is about? Are you speaking to me? Now? Holding me? Now? Loving me? Now? Does real faith mean abandoning all control? Are You closer to me right now, than ever before? Is my suffering my blessing?
I am raw.
I turn and notice the breeze moving through the leaves outside my sliding glass door.
The tiniest glimmer seemed to flicker in Valerie’s eyes during the last five minutes of our recent session with Jim. For a moment. A tender hint?
When I arrived home later that day, I surrendered to Bentley’s warm, mop-tongue kisses. We rolled together on the floor playing, tugging and laughing. Then I surrendered into the silent arms of sleep.
It hurts. Now. The serrated fangs rip efficiently through the flesh of dreams. Now. The blood dries, a scab on the darkness.
It will be better. You are here. There is faint light pulsing at the end of the hallway. Amen.
September 11, 2005
Somewhere in between
Henri Nouwen writes in Reaching Out that you cannot know God’s true love through “the prayer of the heart” without fully experiencing the dichotomy between extreme pain and extreme joy. Jesus’ praying experience in Tabor (light) versus Gethsemane (darkness). The palm leaves versus the crown of thorns. The cup of wine versus the blood of the cross. Somewhere in between the extremes is where faith and the meaning of His heart will be found. “And as we move back and forth in between the extremes, we momentarily cross the center, where the storm clears, the voices pause, the wound closes, and the prayer of the heart is murmured.”
I wonder if this is what it will feel like when I see Your face, falling to my knees to anoint Your feet with my tears.
September 17, 2005
Just about 60 days of separation….and counting
I was walking the dogs tonight around 5:45 PM, the first real cool breath of autumn in the air, Tennessee’s skies rivulets of cobalt acrylic. For some reason a feeling washed over me like a smile. I leaned back, arms spread wide like when I used to lure Victoria from a low hanging tree branch, to jump…fly with laughter into the safety of my arms. “Daddy, I love you so much. You are amazing and magical.”
Yes, you are, Father.
A passage that caught me when leaping from a higher branch this week:
Shipwrecked
"The man with the clear head is the man who frees himself from fantasy and looks life in the face, realizes that everything in it is problematic, and feels himself lost. And this is the simple truth - that to live is to feel oneself lost. Whoever accepts this has already begun to find himself to be on firm ground.
Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, he will look around for something to which to cling, and that tragic ruthless glance, absolutely sincere because it is a question of his salvation, will cause him to bring order into the chaos of his life. These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce. He who does not really feel himself lost, is without remission; that is to say, he never finds himself, never comes up against his own reality."
Jose Ortega
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Thursday's Wednesday Post
- What business are you in...really?
- How do you define success?
- "What you can count on from me."
1. Where is God in this situation?
2. If we are blessed men and women...HOW do blessed men and women behave?
Also, as we wander thorough our respective caves, looking for what's been lost and what can be found, please read the post I wrote in response to the following post from the most recent posted Segment about LOST AND FOUND. It might give you lump in your heart, one single gem from the dark.
Your humble spelunker and sherpa
____________________________________________________________________
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Book Segment #5
Vacation Day Four: The Lost & Found.
OK, I’m going to assume that most everyone can remember going to grade school and taking that walk down the dark hallway to the dreaded cave. That place where your future as a 8-year-old teeters in the balance. That place you have to go through, after which your reunion with Mom and Dad will either be filled with hugs, milk and a couple of Oreo cookies… or unimaginable, cruel and ghastly tortures. That place where your destiny and the loss of that new pair of gloves that Grandma gave you for your birthday collide; the Lost & Found. I remember such a moment, and watching my life pass before my tear-filling eyes. Now, considering I was only eight at the time, it was more like a very quick Disney movie trailer. My teacher, Mrs. Yelverton (the name itself still sends chills), holding my hand and walking me somberly down the long…………endless………foreboding hallway to the office where “the room” was hidden from the outside world. I actually think some kids never came back after that long Green Mile type walk. Now that I think about it, Mrs. Yelverton looked strangely like one of the gruff & pock-faced looking prison guards in the Tom Hanks film… but I digress. The funny thing is that Lost & Found places seem to follow us even into our adulthood. College, hotels, theatres, corporate headquarters, long car rides; we just seem to keep losing things, and then try to go back to find them. Unfortunately, like the gloves, you rarely find them where you thought you left them. I’m not exactly sure why or where this image came to mind on the fourth day of my vacation, but the metaphor really feels right for what is happening in this separation process. So, here goes:
My financial security - My pennies on the street
My large house - My smallness
My closest friend - My self
My wife - My groom
My wedding band - My band of brothers
My mask - My face
My loneliness - My solitude
My words - My heart
My fears - My wounds
My anger - My open hands
My future - My moments
My childhood - My child
My lust - My Agape
My reasons - My truth
My control - My freedom
My taking - My capacity
My way - My invitation
Her - Him
Me - Him
Him - Him
You know, considering all the valuable gifts and other precious things I have lost along the way, I am amazed that now, when coming home empty-handed and fearing the worst from squandering my priceless inheritance, Dad rushes out to meet me with open arms. “While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him. The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring out the best robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the calf we have been fattening, and kill it; we will celebrate by having a feast, because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.” [Luke 15:20-24]
At some point I think we must all grapple with the fact that there is a fine line between the pig sty and the party.
Vacation Day Five: The Bare Feet of Rain Puddles.
QUESTION: So, what have you lost...and found lately?
SUGGESTED BLOGS: 1) The Henri Nouwen Society. www.henrinouwen.org. Wonderful daily meditations/reflections. He is noted by a number of fellow spelunkers on my blog and the primary author I read during this separation. Books of particular note: Return of the Prodigal Son. Also, Reaching Out. 2) Leading from the Sandbox: www.leadingfromthesandbox.blogspot.org. This essential leadership blog is from T.J. Addington, a close friend, mentor, leader and one of my Band of Brothers. He is the person who introduced me to Nouwen, these books and whose own recent story of "There and back again" is an inspiration and reminder that God listens.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
OK, so Wednesday becomes Thursday ...again.
Oh, and...I MUST be doing something that is getting attention. PLEASE take a look at the last post. The good news is that He didn't end it with, "Don't make me come down there!"
B&B
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Segment #4
Vacation Day Two: Then and Now.
When I was jotting down thoughts in my journal this morning, for some reason I turned back to the first thing I wrote after it was given to me as a gift of friendship. The wish expressed was that this would begin to open my heart and soul to God, and allow Him to speak to me through my writing; to start an anointed time in my life, and to embrace how God was going to use me. Mind you, I really struggle with this divine “here’s what I want you to do, Brian” concept. I had no idea at the time that the following words would lead to what feels like the complete deconstruction of my life...brick by brick…nothing remaining but the scaffolding.
The dedication written on the first page of the journal reads:
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
To Brian Kagan – Servant of the living God – my Brother, my friend.
I look forward to feasting at your table with the manna of the Harvest the Lord will give you as you set your heart to write once again. Listen to the Holy Whispers; write down the words; remember the faithfulness of our God.
I believe in you, so Write.
Then, my first entry reads:
3.29.05
“And the lamb roared.
And my heart whispered.
And my Lord smiled.
The vessel emptied
Is more than I can possibly consume.
I am bloated.
Yet He continues to drench my heart
with intoxicating grace
and a love,
a love so embracing and intimate
that I lose myself.
Dizzy, I collapse into His arms.
The rock rolls away slowly
Revealing the light through the darkness.
I believe.
‘Come with me now.’
The heart of God is the place the
human heart seeks and longs for, the
only place where our hearts will find rest.
restful reflection with God is more revealing
than the total reasoning of mankind.”
Fenelon/Meditations on the Heart of God
How prophetic, now looking back. A preview of what was to come; words and moments stained with tears glistening in God’s candlelight.
Vacation Day Three: A Smile on the Way Back
“This difficult road is the road of conversion, the conversion from loneliness into solitude. Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect it and turn it into fruitful solitude. To live a spiritual life we must first find the courage to enter into the desert [Jim calls this “wandering in the wilderness”] of our loneliness and to change it by gentle and persistent efforts into a garden of solitude. This requires not only courage but also strong faith [Jim told us when we embarked on the commitment to separate that not only would this involve the courage to “be comfortable with being uncomfortable in the wanderings,” but also that “this will be a good test “to see if your faith has legs”]. As hard as it is to believe that the dry, desolate desert can yield endless varieties of flowers, it is equally hard to imagine that our loneliness is hiding unknown beauty. The movement from loneliness to solitude, however, is the beginning of any spiritual life because it is the movement from the restless senses to the restful spirit, from the outward-reaching cravings to the inward-reaching search, from the fearful clinging to the fearless play.”
Then, as if Henri and Jim shared office space, he says:
“When we live with a solitude of heart, we can listen with attention to the words and the worlds of others, but when we are driven by loneliness, we tend to select just those remarks and events that bring immediate satisfaction to our own craving needs.”
“There we can also become present to others by reaching out to them, not greedy for attention and affection but offering our own selves to help build a community of love. Solitude does not pull us away from our fellow human beings but instead makes real fellowship possible.”
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Wednesday's question [early Thursday]
Question: If you were me and you were trying to give your story away and want to create a space where people "wanted" to share their open thoughts, what would YOU do to encourage your friends, family, co-workers, cell mates and the come in for a visit? I ask, as you must remember I am suffering from post-generational, post-50, post-relevance, post-technology, post-toasties syndrome.
Bentley will bring you the next segment on Saturday!
Messi it up!
Great question: Over the past year, I lost most of my interest in wanting much of any kind of relationship with The Lord, after being misled in a very big way by a self proclaimed, devout Christian believer who serves on the board of an organization I was a member of. (Membership requires very high standards of conduct in personal, professional, and spiritual life). I thought I was responding to God’s call for kingdom purposes, and eventually, found myself in an impossible situation with him. As a result, one thing after another, after another, etc. kept unwinding like a falling domino effect - including my faith. Subsequently, I didn’t really have any interest in this relationship with God, or “Christian” people any more (except for my wise Godmother).
What I have found –after about 18 months of a seemingly endless, dry, wilderness experience is: (1) Much greater perspectives of faith than I ever knew before, and (2) God’s rebuilding of my life (still in process) in a much deeper way than I could have imagined. (3) Greater compassion to relate to the struggles of others and (4) That God has much more work to do within me.
The welcomed shift began after I heard the testimony of someone whose ministry in the Middle East had experienced life-threatening bombing incidents, along with rejections of his truths (that were eventually bourne out) by some of the most respected Christian educational leaders in the U.S. Despite these unwanted experiences that were “out of his control”, he is more on fire for God and His work than ever. This testimony revitalized my faith and I gladly became “unstuck”. As has been said before, God cannot richly use us until we have gone through brokenness.
July 13, 2008 3:49 PM
Gvingventures: Is it one of faith's ambiguities, that sometimes to really FIND God, we have to LOSE "our way"...then through some stumbling through deserts, and jungles, and those crowds that gather at the costume parties professing their perfect portrayal of the all the right looks of Christianity...you find your self amidst the mascara streaks and threadbare remnants.
Gives more meaning the Ghandi quote, something like: "I love your Christ, but not your Christians."
Curisoly, when I was early in my introduction to Christianity when working with EMI Christian Music Group, remember that 'nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn", one associate who was struck by my background and role working with EMI gently said,"I hope you will not judge Christianity by the Christians you will meet." As I have experienced both the good, and the underbelly of faith, I have been blessed to mostly have joyfully discovered that "being" Christian and "doing" Christianity is not found in any rules or among 3000 of your intimate friends on Sunday...but in places found, like late last night as I sat with a friend who shared with me her fear of a discovered lump in her breast, her fear of sharing that with her friends because she didn't want to be a burden, as if she did not deserve their involvement and thanked me for hearing, seeing and loving her.
And all I had done was take the time to go by after a long day to say hello and ask about her life.
I say spelunking in dark caves yields gems reveals gems.
tyhi (there you have it)