Dolphins and Venice Beach

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Venice beach California

Matt and I stopped in at the Santa Monica office to pick up his permit so he could act  as a street performer in Santa Monica.  We then met up with Matt, and Remy on Horizon street,  the four of us guys waited for some time for our long haired female friends.  After a few minutes and some charges of brain functions we headed over to the beach.   It was a beautiful and perfect day.  Katrina showed up, our very fun Australian beauty.  She laughed as she told me a story of how a car got in a small crash because the driver was paying more attention to her then the road.  “You say that with a very devilish smile Katrina.”  Remy remarked as Katrina laughed.  Soon some slow fella from the O.C. would try to use his best surfer vocabulary to pick up on her.  It didn’t work.

As three of us guys where throwing the Frisbee I heard my name…”Sean!” I turned to see Katrina pointing.  “Look in the water… Dolphins!”  The frisbee fell into the sand as our attention and changed and our eyes peered out over the ocean. I didn’t see anything but rolling waves at first.  But then sure enough, three of four dolphins where jumping up and playing in the water.  Not a hundred yards from where we all stood together pointing as the Dolphins jumped.  We were like children. “Did you order this Katrina?” I asked as if she had a heavenly connection on the wonders of our world.  We watched them for sometime before we returned to the Frisbee.

My friend Mr. Tate said ” I think this is the first times I’ve ever put my feet in the Pacific… I’ve been here for years.”   I was honored to share the day with him on such an occasion, and amazed as well that he had not yet done so.

It was later that Katrina, Remy and I would walk to a roof top restaurant called high. It stood at the top of a Hotel a quick glance from our spot on the beach.  Remy had a friend who worked there, and wanted to stop in.  It was beautiful, the view overlooked the buzzing beach sidewalk bellow, you could see far out toward the faint line of the Horizon.   The grassy nulls  bellow disappeared into the sand and palm trees.  A friend of Remy’s bought us a round, and we sat back on the comfortable couches like  Hollywood VIP’s. We scanned our surroundings and Thanked God for such a view, and for such a day among friends.

As the evening wore on and people started to Leave, Matt H. the performer, our other friend Morgan and I stayed and watched the sun go down on the beach.

A beautiful day in the much sought after southern California.  Much Thanks all for a very lovely day.

Leaving London

I hugged Nats goodbye after we both ran to get to the coach. I feel if you’re not running to your next destination then… you’re really not living in the time that leads up to that point.  So, if that’s true… I’m really living.

I climbed aboard the bus (or coach as the Brits say)  with hardly enough time to take in that I was not going to see her or Isaac that night for supper or evening tea.  The bus driver right behind practically pushed me into the bus. As he closed the doors tight behind me,  I just had time to put my belongings away and sit down before we pulled away from the city of steel… Sheffield.

Nats had told me it may be hard to say goodbye since she cried when Diggery (the dog) was put in a kennel for a weekend Holiday.  I was surprised when there were no tears…humm… I blamed it on the fact that there was no real time to take in the departure, as we were to rushed for tears… at least that made me feel better.

I was with them in their home for almost two months. I got to know them well and appreciate them greatly.  We laughed, shared, argued…we did life together.  And our lives became more rich with each new bit of insight from one another.

I fell asleep on the way. God has given me a gift to sleep when I’m bored, which often got me in trouble in school, and why I don’t do church much. So, I don’t get bored, I just go to black… and then come alive.

I talked to no one on the coach. I was probably the youngest person aboard.  There were wisdom and white and balding heads all around me,  I didn’t dare speak… or I would have to fight sleep, and I’d rather not.

The scenery on the way to London… I couldn’t believe that the city was just miles away, I couldn’t see it, and you never would have questioned it by looking out the large class windows.  The green country side pushing by.  If you have never gone to England, go.  Bring a water-proof jacket, get used to milk in tea, and try Marmite (yeast extract).  You don’t have to like it- you just need to try it.  And for the English…. TRY PEANUT BUTTER and JAM! (Pb&Jelly to Americans)  If you don’t, your missing out on one of the mysteries of the universe just because “it sounds weird” to you.   Try it, and prepare to have your eyes opened to a new and colorful world, where shades of gray fade away.  You wonder why the British seem more grumpy, and Americans over confident…. the secret may lie in Peanut butter.  A good balance may bring about the most sophisticated and confident man or woman.

The couch stopped and after a couple of hopeful leads I got to the city bus and told the bus driver where to go.  He smiled with dark glasses, I couldn’t see his eyes, chewing his gum as a cow chews cud and stared at me as if I was the idiot he had been waiting for.  “I don’t know where that is.”  He was half smiling as he said it.  I could feel the line of people out the door waiting to board.  And I looked at him, looking at me trying to figure out who was going to get off this bus.  Apparently, it wasn’t big enough for the two of us.  I pretended to know more than I did and stayed on the bus.  I ended up getting dropped off at the Marriott hotel because he really didn’t know where the “Travel Lodge” and Heathrow central was located… and no man should.  It’s a depressing slapped together Ikea show model motel, posing as a hotel ( it actually is a hotel, but I think the word Motel is an insult to hotels) The Travel Lodge MOTEL was the thorn in this side of town. I switched rooms after discovering the plugs didn’t work and there was just one plug in!  I had no phone in the room, the wi-fi wasn’t free, and Now since I had to take two different buses to get this waste of plywood,paint, and Plexiglas of a building, I had less than 5 pounds to my name.  It wasn’t enough to get dinner, nor was it enough to get the shuttle in the morning to the airport.

I sat in the room alone sulking as the sun went down, an ugly building hid the suns beauty, so I had to just enjoy the sun rays and the color of the sky. I sipped on tea, cause they had a tea kettle in the room but no phone.  I began to not like London,  I couldn’t see Big Ben anywhere I looked or anything that resembled a modern, thriving city.  I began to wonder if the newspapers, magazines, and movies had lied to us all this time.  I looked at a building and wished Guy Fawkes were there about to succeed at what he failed at.  But of course I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.  I was just a volcano steaming, and too tired to erupt.  I was hungry, tired from traveling, broke, and alone.

I later discovered that when purchasing my airline tickets, I had apparently signed up for some type of rewards in the black print. I was unaware that these “rewards” slowly and stealthy would bleed dry my checking account, withdrawing monthly, even closed out one of my accounts when it emptied it of funds and then, began to empty the next account.  So, my Master card was a mere piece of plastic, good only for scraping windows on cold frosting mornings. I had some money in paypal but no way to access it.

I began to think that London hated me, perhaps was trying to keep me here to devour me, destroy my communication, and kill my spirit.  I’d be damned if I was going to let that happen.

I had some potato chips and a couple of snickers bars, that became my supper, I took a shower and washed the travel off, and watched a movie on my lap top I hadn’t seen… I prayed to the God of my youth, and a flicker of hope began to burn within me.  I fell asleep.

I caught the city bus in the morning it was just about 2 pounds and I felt good, I had plenty of time, I was well-rested, shaved my face new, and wore a smart shirt that made me look like I could contribute to society.

I went through security like an old pro, smiled when they saw my passport, and wished secretly that it was a fake- I was really a secret agent and they had no idea that I could disarm and dismantle a gun in the blink of an eye.  A deadly force to be reckoned with!  I put my shoes back on after not setting off alarms, I felt a little funny in my socks.  I  made my way into the world of international consumerism.  The Airport felt more like a mall then the mall.  In fact, at one point I almost forgot where I was…somehow, I  realized I needed to look for my boarding gate, and found my way through the maze of perfume smells and cosmetics… how I got there I don’t know, but others were following me and looking around confused.

A fight attended asked me if I would like to switch seats so I could have more room.  Three of us guys were shoulder to shoulder, and there was open seating.  “Sweet” I thought.  “Sure” I said.  I moved seats, and I caught myself smiling as I had entertainment in front of me, I had a wide variety of movies to choose from and plate of warm airline food placed delicately on my tray table.  The food was welcomed like a homemade thanksgiving meal.  I was delighted, giddy, and heading home.  With a good movie, a warm meal, and a blue airplane blanket, I felt like you do when you’re a kid and you stay home from school and your mom treats you like a king.  I was thankful, and felt like someone upstairs really cared about us little people down here.  Maybe even more than we know.

I love the Vancouver airport and their free wi-fi and indoor planetarium.  There may be more plant life in the Vancouver airport then in the entire State of Nevada. That’s not all… I stood for 10 minutes watching in awe a large jelly fish in an oversize aquarium.  They looked fluid and alien, yet beautiful . Three other people came to my side, I could hear them breath in “wow” us strangers didn’t look or talk at each other, but together we shared in this moment of curiosity, separated only by 3 inches of glass, from a dangerously mystical creature.

A quick check of my email and a good friend was letting me know he was now actually able to pick me up at LAX.  Sitting in the seats of the Vancouver airport moments from boarding… I already felt like I was at home.

Stay in Britain Jerk!

well, tell me how you really feel…

I may now be in Britain forever!!

And you thought I was a Jerk… ha!

Thanks for contributing to this….

Change of heart?

If you would still like to help a brother out, but just clicked on “stay in Britian Jerk just to see where it would take you.  Don’t worry, its all fun and games… unless you stranded in some distant land were football is totally different to what your used to. And it’s not to late.. yet.

Change of heart?

Oh, the Spanish late nights.

Understanding the culture of Spain: From an American perspective, it’s quite different. In fact, coming from were I was 4 weeks ago, I didn’t understand why Spaniards live the way they do. Now I understand and am enjoying the way they do things. I understand that we, as Americans, see things differently. That’s okay so long as we meet them were they are, and do not try to change their way of life.

Our mission work…. well, it’s more like discipleship training. We are not building homes, or schools or churches for people to dwell in. Instead, what may be happening here is the building up of the people themselves. We are sharpening, encouraging, and being healing hands for one another.

I heard the other day about a law here in Spain. The law states that a building in construction will not be taxed until the outside of the building is completed. Needless to say in this economy, a lot of the buildings are incomplete. They are inhabited, they are occupied, but they are unfinished. And so, why would the owners want them to be completed if it will be taxed?  We are not here to fix this town on the outside, but to be among the people from with in.

The people here in Spain stay out late.  Very late compared to us in the States.  From ages 16- 40 (give or take a year or so) they will stay out easily until 4 or 4:30 am, and that’s not that late to the Spanish of this age.  But in the States, that’s a bad hour, nothing good happens after midnight.  What should we (as Americans) do then?  Go to bed at 11 or midnight because that’s what they do in America?  No way!  If we did, we would miss out on the time we could spend meeting and hanging out with new friends.  Not everyone thinks the way we do.  It’s weird at first, but so is a sea that has no waves (the Mediterranean)–you get used to it.   You enjoy it for what it is.  You swim whether there are waves or not.

Some say you may be at risk of compromising truth or faith to fit in with the culture.   I agree, compromising truth is wrong.  Way wrong!  Out here, under the Spanish sky we are simply trying to be imitators of Paul and Christ.  As Arianna would say, “Jesus was the greatest cross-cultural worker.”  He spoke the language, he met the people where they were.  He didn’t stop at the actions of the individual’s past, he wasn’t the first one to throw the stone.  In fact he was the one who created the truest definition of grace.

We take our light into the night here, whether it be dark noon (midnight)or 4:30am.  We can invite God to be with us on a dance floor–and I have.   If art is an expression of creativity, and creativity is the natural result of spirituality, then I can literally be spiritual in all the art I make while connected to the spirit.

That means that wherever we are, even if in a muggy dance club pounding Michael Jackson music, God can be there.

“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?”

-David, a man after Gods own heart.

David wrote this Psalm about such a topic.

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Psalm 139

¹O lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. ²Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. ³Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. ⁴For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether. ⁵Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. ⁶Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it. ⁷Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? ⁸If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. ⁹If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; ¹⁰Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. ¹¹If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. ¹²Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.

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It’s amazing at what you can be thankful for when your dancing.  The ability to move alone is a blessing.

I want to keep the Spirit alive… so, what do I do?  After further question and investigation I found that there is a reason they stay out so late.  The answer… Siesta! The Spanish take a siesta after they go home to their families for lunch.  What a blessing!  to go home to your family, have lunch, catch a cat nap at the hottest part of the day, and then go back to work in the cooler part of the evening is awesome.  But wait, now after work, we need a little time to cut loose, and hey, we just had a nap, so we are still pretty charged.  Let’s go out, have some tapas, and perhaps dance.  It’s their way of life, like coming home to dinner and perhaps an episode of Lost.  It’s the culture.

Jesus drank wine with meals as they do here.  He sat and ate with people that, through the eyes of man, he should not have been sitting with.  But he did.   He made contact with the untouchables and eat meals with the ungodly.  He made them feel like they were accepted.  Imagine how you would feel known as detestable, but found at a dinner table with the creator of the universe.  From the eyes of man, looking from the outside it looked much different.  In the book of Matthew it says,  “The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners.”  They called Jesus a winebibber and a glutton because of what they thought their eyes were seeing.

“they may be ever seeing but never perceiving,
and ever hearing but never understanding…”

As followers of Christ, we should eat and drink with the untouchables like Christ did, and pray for those brothers and sisters who do the same.  Perhaps some of us know what its like to be an untouchable, or detestable.  A place at the table can change a life forever.

My hope is for all who read this to be rich in grace toward others as Christ is rich in grace toward you.

Screaming to be Free!

“Britain is a country that is known to the world by it’s colonization”.

Rachel said to me in her crowded dinning room Sunday night.  She went on to say “It’s been a country that has oppressed. ” It’s part of Britain’s History. and we have been “apologizing for century’s” for its past mistakes.

Britain has been so well known for the spreading of a brutal Church that conquered, and even killed.   It still is a stinging wound in the hearts of its people.  Britain has now given up the Church that was once so strong it could decide the fate of kings.  Many got rid of God along the way.

When Tony Blair was Prime Minister he was once in an interview for Vanity Fair magazine and asked about his Christian faith.  Before he could respond, Alistair Campbell interrupted the Prime Minister’s reply to say ‘I’m sorry, we don’t do God.’

Mankind took the most amazing story about love, and twisted it for their own selfish benefit. I don’t blame Britain at all. I blame the nature of man.

Britain has struggled to get rid of the filth of Religion that has ravaged its country, and in the process has thrown the ‘Baby’, out with the bathwater.  The baby was such a small part in the large murky tub, that the little guy would have been hard to see.

Today Britain is seems saddened from with in.  More than that… it is screaming from with in.   Its time for something new.  The people are ready for change.  Last night proves that.   For the first time in a hundred years, Wales voted to be represented by a new political party, The Conservatives .

I see the want for something new in the quite eyes of shoe gazers, and I hear it in there music, its like you can smell it in a room full of insecurity.   I watched a brilliant saxophone player apologize time after time during his outstanding solo piece because he couldn’t turn his pages of his floppy music book with just one hand, so he would have to stop briefly to turn the pages.  Why would the musician apologize for a beautiful gift, because of the page turning.  Its like having to apologize for the wrapping  paper on a present.

England is Home to some of the greatest music in the world with bands like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Cold Play, The Clash, Oasis just to name a few.  .  Its because they have something to sing about.  There not just singing. There screaming.

I feel like a Brit when I am here.  I guess its just the natural adaptability to my surroundings but the main thing is that we are all humans, and all humans go through the same gambit of emotions.  England just has a bit of a complex, and trust issues.  My best way to combat the trust issues is to hug more and wine less.  Don’t forget a smile goes along way.  Smile, laugh and hug, doing so often may start a revolution.  I dare you to try.

I was in a pub a few nights ago.  And I was asking some people who I just played improv with, who there hero’s were.

“Hero’s? They asked” they thought for a bit.  “I guess I really don’t have hero’s” I have people I admire.

Okay I thought. “Who do you admire?” I asked.  They mentioned Martin Luther king Jr. and  Bono, Obama,  a friend of there’s. Another  time someone said they admired one of the contestants on Britain’s got talent (the choreographer and dancer of Diversity).  A hero doesn’t need to be someone who flys from building to building and picks locks with laser beams from their eyes.  A hero could use a key.

“The hero is one who kindles a great light in the world, who sets up blazing torches in the dark streets of life for men to see by. The saint is the man who walks through the dark paths of the world, himself a light.”-Felix Adler

I think its time to stop being insecure, and realize everyone has moments of being scared and its okay you’re human, and you’re not alone .  If we look at others, and love them as ourselves we stop worrying about what they are thinking.  Go to except others, instead of hoping they except us.

Jesus, is held to be someone we admire right?  Not the “Church” Jesus with all the statues, and paintings, not the old archaic dusty old  Jesus, but the actual real Jesus, of flesh and blood that lived and breathed.  The Jesus that got down and washed the feet of his friends.  That Jesus!  He said that ‘No one shows greater love than when he lays down his life for his friends’.  I admire that.

If we love like that, it may be silly to apologize for the gift paper.

Give a gift today, a complement, a smile, or a word of encouragement.

Sheffield of dreams

Recently I went on an exploration of Sheffield, the fourth largest city in the United Kingdom.  Ollie and Laura, two married teachers, with a spirit of adventure, took me through different parts of town so loaded in History you couldn’t take a step upon the streets with out being enriched by story.  We started off at a Starbucks, they thought would be a welcoming start for an American. They were right.  The Starbucks was across from Weston Park, were Ollie gave me a brief orientation and history.  From Saxon tribes, Norman invasion, battle at Dore (SW of the city) at which Ecgbert was crowned first king of Britain (an area were we later would have lunch).  Then he went further on about “Sheffield Castle, the Sheaf Market, and the evolution of the town during industrial revolution, coal mining, steel production, Thatcher’s rape of the steel industry, unemployment, re-envisioning of the city”.

From the city streets we visited the old parts of town that made the famous Sheffield steal.  During World War II it was a major target because of the steel production.    During 2 bombing campaigns “660 people were killed, 1,500 injured and 40,000 made homeless. 3,000 homes were demolished with a further 3,000 badly damaged. A total of 78,000 homes received damage. Six George Medals were awarded to citizens of Sheffield for their bravery during the raids. “(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sheffield_Blitz)

The town was able to recover, and continues to make steal.  Though it is not as world renowned as it used to be, Sheffield produces more steal now, and more efficiently thanks to machines.  less man power is used or needed.

“…Sheffield produces more steel in a week now than they did at the height of 70s, even though most of the city is not aware of it. Sheffield is also the place that ‘crucible’ smelting was created on a grand scale… and where the recipe for stainless steel was invented (staybright steel).”  -Ollie

We then toured in the part of town were Laura teaches…The second most deprived council estate in western Europe! “the Manor!” Had a look at the ruins of the Manor castle and they told me of ghost stories, and that students had said it was haunted because of a beheading that was held there. and Mary Queen of Scots) was held as prisoner by the sixth Earl of Shrewsbury at both Sheffield Manor and Sheffield Castle and it’s her ghost that is said by some to haunt the Turret House building.

There, we spoke of the social class divisions of England.  We talked about the corruption in the schools in the area, the lack of hope, and the vicious cycle that has repeated for generations. Laura longs for change here.

We  stopped off at Beaucheif Abbey dating around 1100 AD. surrounded by tombstones, rock walls, and a golf course. Life, Death, and the beauty of it all.

We then journeyed through the peak district.  A beautiful strip of hills, and peaks.  Designated in 1951 it became the first national park in the British Isles.  From the views of the peaks you can find peace, and view the works of God in amazement and humility.  You witness the beautiful marriage of vast landscapes blanketed in greens, combined with the beautiful rich blue skies meeting together perfectly.  The Peak District is said to be one of the most-visited national parks in the world.

I am amazed of the history that blurrs by me in the passenger seat of Laura’s car, Ollie sits in the back explaining different parts of English history, local politics, and social divides.  Ollie insisted I ride shot gun, a seat of honor no doubt, it allows  for a great spectator view. I was very grateful.

The Peak District through the passenger window.

Sitting in the car with two teachers, and myself as the pupil, it was extraordinary all that we covered.  It was non stop communication from difference in culture, views of God, and the church’s horrific journey.  The Church caused destruction as the United Kingdom matured, leaving her people Jaded and atheist, agnostic at best.  The Church in England has become a hated organization.  It seems as if the real Jesus and all he stood for, has been hidden, twisted, or forgotten among all the Dogma and idolatry, creating fearful hardened hearts with a deep anger toward “the Church”. I want no part of such Church.  I fear America could suffer the same fate, if we are to let “Religion”  beat out God.

The best thing for “Christians” to do, is to loose “This Church” altogether, then maybe would could see what Jesus truly looks like underneath it all.  Then we can follow.

As time goes on, all theses magnificent stone structures I have scene will soon fall.  Many have fallen, and are left in ruins.  Only the foundations are left. Maybe we should get back to that, and be careful as we build upon the foundation, so that they last forever.

I am amazed that such a small Island could have colonized so much of the known world.  They have a saying… ” the sun never set on the English Empire.” Apparently that was true.  As the sun was setting on one part of the Empire it was rising on another.  The British Empire controlled more the one third of the world. Ollie informed me they have another saying “The blood never dried”.

In a town called Bakewell (known for its amazing cakes) ,We visited a church built in the 12 century.   The church is still active and working, services on Sunday and all the fringe.  There was a list of the names of the Rector from whence the church commenced until the current date.  Looking at the dates in history was like looking at rings on a tree, some years were good, some years were bad. What amazing and horrible things we have accomplished since the 12 century.

Outside there was a group of school children all in uniform, and their tour guide.  The group clung to the outer wall of the church. They huddled around a few ancient stone coffins that had propped up against the church wall.  There, the tour guide tried painstakenly to maintain there attention as he explained what the hole was for in the center of the coffins.  One child burst out ” For the body fluids to come out!”  The child was right. The tour guy went on to explain decomposition and that the fluids needed a place to go so… he could hardly finish with out a echo of “uhhhh gross.”

Bakewell, a quaint tourist town, probably seeing its “hay day” now, with all the tourists.  Me being among them,  I didn’t feel so much like a tourist. I wasn’t wearing a Bakewell hat, or shirt, and wasn’t eating a Bakewell pie.  The shops closed up right before we could by any.  We skipped out on tea time and headed home.

I am greatful to Ollie and Laura for spending time with me, and taking me around there City of Steal to see some of the softer sides.

tip for the day: Don’t be among the dead in the old coffin, there is just a small hole that gradually drips downward. It’s of no use no matter what Church it leans against.

Earth Worm Jim and the Human Condition

There once was an earth worm named Jim. He lived the average life of any worm until one day he discovered a super suit that transformed him.  The suit gave him super-strength, and abilities far more advanced then that of your average worm.  Once he had the suit, things didn’t necessarily get easier,  in fact there also were forces of evil that wanted to take his super-suit.  He had to fight against evil to survive and keep the suit, and somehow save the world. He also had the help of a puppy side-kick (with a hulk complex).

As ordinary humans, we long for such transformation.  We would love to put on a super suit and take on the world.  We would love to conquer our own fears. But Alas! there is no such suit.

We know that as humans we have great weaknesses, we become fatigued, we hunger, we bleed, we hurt, and some day we die, and we hope we are not forgotten.  Isn’t it interesting, however; that we will not be remembered by how easy things are for us, but more the opposite.

The most interesting people in the world lived lives riddled with challenge. They are our heroes. Through that Challenge, or because of the challenge, they had to change.  They transformed, they rose up.  Now once this transformation has occurred more things are demanded of them.  Things don’t get easier for them, they just become more versed at dealing with challenges.  Their struggles become a bigger challenge. They either over come these challenges, give up,  or they die trying.

In this world, we must equip ourselves to take on the evils of this age, but we can do nothing as the worms we are.  We are weak, we can be stepped on, or  swooped up and destroyed.  So how can we protect ourselves?   Is there any armor we can equip to battle the fiery arrows of this world? Were is our super suit?

We may not be the men or women we wish to be. We know inside that we are able, we know there is something much more.

Somethings got to give with in us, perhaps something is still lacking in us.

What is it?

Crash into me.

Something we all long for as Humans is Life.

Real life, life to the full! Life in abundance. And that is the very reason some individuals have come into our path to touch our very hearts. In the hopes of offering a life worth living.

Yes we are all connected.We are here for each other.

How do you take that knowledge of connectedness and move to the next step of contact? What do we do when we face someone who actually has asked for help? How do we break out of the frigidness, when we feel paralyzed? Don’t we often feel trapped inside of ourselves because, well….its more comfortable. Its so easy to maintain the status quo. Breaking outside of ourselves, and reaching out to others is invigorating but often some of our biggest challenge.

The author Donald Miller wrote:

” I believe that the greatest trick of the devil is not to get us into some sort of EVIL, but rather have us waste time. That is why the devil tries so hard to get Christians to be religious.”

If we continue you in our comfortable pattern of life, (that we actually despise) we may go through life with out ever having to have contact with another soul. All because of fear, hurt, or brokenness.

“It is said that a newborn baby will die without human contact. So too will the spirit of an adult if not given the same opportunity.” -Prisoner at Mansfield Correctional Institution

We all are connected. We then must make contact. Its one thing to see someone’s path. We then must move into their path.

“It’s the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We’re always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.” – Paul Haggis”Crash”

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

-Jesus of Nazerath (jhn 10:10)

A Hero lives In the Presence of Fear

“The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing.”

-Albert Einstein

Can I consider myself guilty if I am the on looker? If I am the one who looks on and does nothing? Am I committing a sin if I stand by and watch as another human being has something horrible happen to them?

This reminds me of the scene from the movie Saving Private Ryan, were a German soldier has an American soldier pinned down on the second floor of a war stricken building.  The German is on top of the American with a knife that continues to  slowing press closer and closer to the American’s chest.  The German is much stronger and the path of the blade is inevitable. unless… someone comes to the rescue.

Its amazing how often times we need a rescuer, or at times we need to be the rescuer.

In the movie the American is in need of a hero, and just down the stairs is U.S. Cpl. Timothy P. Upham . This is the first real battle Upham has been in. The American soldiers are depending on Upahm to supply the ammo to the Americans spread out in there various positions. They are getting over run by the Germans.

Cpl. Upham can help, all he has to do is go upstares were the German soldier and the American soldier fight for life and death.  Upham staggers on the bottom of the stares full of fear. Up stairs the two men are struggling. This is were Upham must take action.  Instead he dosn’t move. He stays. He waits.

I remember watching this and saying out loud. “Go help him!”But Cpl. Upham just stood there like he was frozen in fear. Up stairs the German solider is getting closer with the knife blade to the American pleads for his life.”Stop! stop! stop! don’t!” the American whispers . “Shhh shhh shh” the German responds sliding the blade into his chest. All the while Cpl Upham is on the stairs frozen in between doing and not doing. The German killed the American.

Cpl. Upham did nothing. This is one of the greatest examples of how we are surrounded by choices every second, and how not making a choice is unto itself making a choice. Even the choice, “not to choose” has consequences. In this case the choice was life or death. All three men wanted the same thing… to live. In war we put our selves in situations of Kill or be killed for various reasons usually religion, land, food, or simply indifference.

The need of a hero, and that hero falling short of rescue is one of the greatest tragedies of all. Its how some of the greatest movies start. Like in Braveheart, when William Wallace’s wife is captured and is tied to a post, her eyes glance across the beautiful Scottish landscape looking for her Hero, and husband William to come to save her… he couldn’t get to her in time. She was killed.

We all have choices, and being human we will all fall short of the goal at some time or another, but its the pursuit of doing the right thing that makes hero’s. Those who can make choices in the presence of fear. Those who come to the rescue of the weak or the helpless.

We all can choose to be a hero in someones life.

Make your choice.

I start with an Ooops!

Mother of Pearl!
May 7th  7:21pm 2009

I feel like a total dork!

I missed my flight at LAX today, I assumed an entirely wrong airline, was stumped at the fact that I was flying from the wrong airline, I didn’t have my confirmation number on my person like a moron, and when I went  to look it up on my lap top I was kicked in the” junkerton” emotionally speaking (writing) I just recently had my  Mac book  upgraded… that was done just a day or two ago. I was unable to access my mail  to retrieve pertinent information that I so needed to catch my flight in time. They had no internet access were I was,  I felt so crippled. 
No cell phone to call from.  My phone was shut off since I wont be needing it for another 5 months.  The airline wouldn’t let me use there phone at check in.

A very  gracious German gave me 50 cente one point I was given 50 cents from a German who looked like he had been back packing the states for 6 months.  He needed to get rid of his coins on his way back to the “mother land”.  I used his 50 cents (cause I had no coin) to make a phone call on the pay phone.  I made phone calls to Orbitz (my ticket provider) and worked some things out with them…or so I thought. My hopes were high, I soldiered on.  I had to journey the great divide of LAX terminals on foot from terminal 2 to terminal 7. It seemed like 3 city blocks one way, but that could have been the heat, cause it was probably much more, good thing Im easily distracted and forget quickly . Thank God I had picked up a luggage cart by an escalator that someone abandoned. Little did I know that I would have to make the trip there and back again.I tried my best many times explaining my case. dead in the face of the people in suits and little ties . I was calm,cool, and I was courteous.  I also wasn’t taking no for answer! They would not let me use there phone to connect with the other air line that I had just made arrangements with to make this work for me.  They also would not allow me to call Orbitz on there phone so that they could see for themselves that they had the power to connect me to the London today!! … so I thought. Frustration became my posse and anger was my fuel. I tried to keep cool. I think I did alright. No blood was shed.

I really believed I would be able to catch a later flight. and there would be little issue. I was totally wrong! I felt so Bad, Isaac and Natalie are doing so much for me to stay with them and I felt so horrible.

When I arrived at the Vancouver airport at an ungodly hour I felt like I was at an empty las Vegas casino stripped of its one armed bandits, flashing lights, and cigerets. A wide open carpeted area and signs let me Through customs I felt like I was at an unfriendly doctors office or clinc or something. “Do you have a cough or fever?” the officer asked me behind her glassed in booth.
“nope” I replied. “Have you been in contact with anyone in the last week who has had a cough or fever?” My apartment complex in North Hollywood had been plagued by the great 2buck butler improv cough of ’09 about a week or so back.   “Nope” I said shaking my head and wearing a questionable eyebrow.  Off I went.
When I made my way through the labyrinth of escalators, over sized windows and shiny floors I got up to check in. There was no one there. I felt like I was in a ghost town. or worst yet the movie 28 days letter, I was just waiting for people infected with Rage to come running at me. everyone else had gone. the Maple leaves went back to  their homes. I will say I was not in the mood to deal with zombies. of course I was close to being one myself, that may be why I wasn’t attacked.

I ended up settling with a small convoy of foul mouthed teenagers who were actually in there 20′s but seemed very immature. even for 20′s standards, one of there mothers was with them, I was supprised by there topics of conversations, and was disapointed in their lack of disrespect.  I shut them out with my headphones and lap top.

Im listening to Ryan’s music he gave me right now.  Im pretty sure its 5 iron frenzy which he knows I hate, however I am listening, and surprised I’m enjoying this song.  Perhaps the music is reminding me of the good friends God has given me.  I know will like this song whenever I hear it.

Man I just wish I could be with Isaac and Nat right now, Im sure however there is a lesson to be learned in this all.  It may be pretty obvious, as my lessons often are, it just takes me a minute due to my thick scull and how easily im distracted by…. HEy a shinny object…

At the Vancouver airport, Im starting to fall a sleep. I trying to finish whhat I’m………………afhaj ngirt.