1
The other night I was driving around in my very beat up ford ranger; she has been through a lot, my mind began to wonder about the normal or not so normal things in life. Like will there be mountains or oceans in heaven? Or will there be animals we have never seen? Will God look like I imagine Him (as a black man with a voice that sounds like coffee smells.) It might seem like an obvious answer but I don’t really think it is. It reminds me of conservatism.
Being conservative—in the Christian sense—conjures up a few images of old ladies in unflattering dresses or country folk taking a ride to the city and talking about all fast paced, loose, immoral people. Maybe even it will bring an image of a soap box preacher with a megaphone shouting out to the mocking passerby-ers that they are going to hell if they don’t repent of their wicked, wicked ways. Or, if you happen to be in downtown Orlando on a Tuesday night, you might just hear one yelling “If you’re a faggot you’re going to burn!”
Most of those are not pleasant images (not that I have anything against old ladies and their dresses,) but they don’t really appeal on any level do they? But what about the conservative who is against abortion or national healthcare and big government; not because he is against abortion or national healthcare or big government, but because his religious standings prevent him from believing or voting for such things? What about the conservative who is soft spoken, meek, truthful, honest and thankful; who does not judge or scream or holler; who does not call people “faggots” or blow up abortion clinics?
What about me? I call myself a conservative Christian—though by most standards I would not be—but that all depends on point of view. I am loud, often times I make quite a ruckus. I love to laugh and push people to justify why they believe in something instead of “just because.” That makes a lot of people upset. I also hang out with pregnant girls who aren’t married. I have friends who are gay. I know a stripper or two. I have read my bible while having a beer. I have talked about the power of the Holy Spirit while smoking a cigar. My aggressive nature is largely misinterpreted. I love Jesus more than anything in this world. That makes most people think I am not conservative. (It probably makes them think I am an apostate.)
With all these different views and thoughts of what a conservative is how can we pin it down? We can’t. The lines are too faded and mostly have no reason for being in the first place. Non-conservative, conservative, liberal, neo-post-modern-ultra-orthodox-catholic-semi-Calvinist…what does it matter? Where do these titles come from? We need some yes to define things in our mind. We like things orderly and neat and able to place into a category or relational bubble. There are things that don’t fit and cannot be placed in a bubble or category. Things like Jesus. You can’t put God in a box, and if you can I would say that what you are so delicately guarding in that finite imaginary cube is nothing more than something wholly other than God.
We have become great at creating gods, haven’t we?
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Purpose
Here among the shadows hung deep and black, cast against adjacent walls; our minds wander aimlessly through the burning questions we have managed to escape for part of another day. However, in still times when our minds break our elusive game of escape those burning questions arise with a defiant air; screaming to the forefront of all thought and attempted imagination. You all know the questions I’m talking about. They are the ones we hardly bring up because the answers are either too elusive or too broad or too relative or too…always too everything, too big and too much and too heavy to dwell on for any length of time.
Despite the size and depth and uncertainty of such questions, WE MUST think on them often. We must hold a fondness for them. To be well acquainted with every single one of them: for these questions are the key to what we are missing.
There are passions burning so deep in all of us-even for those who say they have no passions, at some point you did, now you may be so crafty at pushing them away that you have forgotten them altogether; this does not negate the fact those passion did rage. And somewhere in that hollow shell of humanity bearing the image of someone so other than human, those passions still exist.
These passions point us home.
I’m not talking about sexual passion, monetary passion or half formed emotional passion. I am speaking about the deep kind, born of years of looking out on the world and feeling something move in us every time we hear or see or feel. It could be art, music, literature, people, plants or whatever, but those passions are a direct link between the part of “us” that society has rendered and the side of “us” that they have never been able to touch.
The potential resting there is not able to be measured. I heard a man say once that passion always precedes purpose… and there have a nagging question…
What is my purpose?
It nags and aches and festers until we either beat it down so badly we forget that we ever thought it or embrace it and find that those passions locked in us move us toward the purpose we so desperately want.
Purpose is a sword in the mouth of many people. Those who don’t know it are cut viciously and refuse to pursue it from fear. We look at those scars and scoff, laughing at ourselves for ever giving flight to such a fancy as living with purpose. Our world in its broken state teaches us that purpose was lost a long time ago. That people don’t live for purpose, they live to live. This lie is destroying the lives of thousands.
There are others though who learn to use that sword and cut through every obstacle blocking their path. And those people look at their scars and value, in greater measure, what it took to get where they are.
We have to listen to the little things cause they are always first to know when the big things come.
And when those little passions flare, we have to stop and ask “why does this thing always move me, why does it keep coming up, why am I always captured by it?” Those answers will not always be readily available but by choosing to pursue a passion we find our purpose.
By questioning ourselves we will be forced to find answers or at least seek after them. Those answers could lead us to places we may have been blind to but they are sure to lead us.
It is of no small task to live in a place of purpose; it will challenge and refine us push us to the limits of who we are. But there is a fulfillment there that cannot be had from any other place.
We must lay hold of our purpose and pursue it violently; with passion and faith enough to keep us running after it that even after having no favor come we may one day happen upon it and from there begin to live as an effective change in a world that is always looking for a reason to live.
Despite the size and depth and uncertainty of such questions, WE MUST think on them often. We must hold a fondness for them. To be well acquainted with every single one of them: for these questions are the key to what we are missing.
There are passions burning so deep in all of us-even for those who say they have no passions, at some point you did, now you may be so crafty at pushing them away that you have forgotten them altogether; this does not negate the fact those passion did rage. And somewhere in that hollow shell of humanity bearing the image of someone so other than human, those passions still exist.
These passions point us home.
I’m not talking about sexual passion, monetary passion or half formed emotional passion. I am speaking about the deep kind, born of years of looking out on the world and feeling something move in us every time we hear or see or feel. It could be art, music, literature, people, plants or whatever, but those passions are a direct link between the part of “us” that society has rendered and the side of “us” that they have never been able to touch.
The potential resting there is not able to be measured. I heard a man say once that passion always precedes purpose… and there have a nagging question…
What is my purpose?
It nags and aches and festers until we either beat it down so badly we forget that we ever thought it or embrace it and find that those passions locked in us move us toward the purpose we so desperately want.
Purpose is a sword in the mouth of many people. Those who don’t know it are cut viciously and refuse to pursue it from fear. We look at those scars and scoff, laughing at ourselves for ever giving flight to such a fancy as living with purpose. Our world in its broken state teaches us that purpose was lost a long time ago. That people don’t live for purpose, they live to live. This lie is destroying the lives of thousands.
There are others though who learn to use that sword and cut through every obstacle blocking their path. And those people look at their scars and value, in greater measure, what it took to get where they are.
We have to listen to the little things cause they are always first to know when the big things come.
And when those little passions flare, we have to stop and ask “why does this thing always move me, why does it keep coming up, why am I always captured by it?” Those answers will not always be readily available but by choosing to pursue a passion we find our purpose.
By questioning ourselves we will be forced to find answers or at least seek after them. Those answers could lead us to places we may have been blind to but they are sure to lead us.
It is of no small task to live in a place of purpose; it will challenge and refine us push us to the limits of who we are. But there is a fulfillment there that cannot be had from any other place.
We must lay hold of our purpose and pursue it violently; with passion and faith enough to keep us running after it that even after having no favor come we may one day happen upon it and from there begin to live as an effective change in a world that is always looking for a reason to live.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The two natures; PART 2
The two natures; PART 2
Jacob, he was a son of Abraham. The genealogies list it like this, The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The crazy thing here is Jacob was not the first born. He was not the one to be listed in that line, it should say Abraham, Isaac and Esau.
But something happened.
Esau sold his birthright to Jacob. There are a couple things that could trip us up here. Can a birthright be sold? Aren’t you born into it? Is it even tangible?
Yes, yes and yes.
As I said previously about Esau, The birth right that he sold was not only about a parental blessing it was about taking the word of God at face value. But this is about the nature of Jacob…
Jacob was supplanter, he schemed he lied, and he deceived. So how did one like this ever get the blessing of God that would bring about the redemption of mankind?
After Esau sold his birthright, later Jacob tricked his father and lied to him-with the help of his mother; from that lie Jacob received the blessing due to the first born. This blessing wasn’t just about saying something nice about the first son, by receiving that blessing Jacob literally became as the first born.
After this he fled and married Leah and then Rachel. He had twelve sons. He later left his father in law and after some turbulent affairs came to a place where he was going to meet Esau. Jacob hangs here in a place of fear and uncertainty. His nature flares up again, he attempts to appease his brothers perceived anger by sending gifts.
And then something changes…
In Genesis 32:24
“…and then Jacob was left alone; and a Man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day. 25Now when he saw that he-the man-did not prevail against him-Jacob, He touched the socket of his hip; and the socket of Jacobs hip was out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26And He said, ‘let me go, for the day breaks.’ But he said ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me!’…” In the following versus the angel asks him his name and then renames him “ISRAEL” which meaning “God prevails”
Jacob stepped into something.
Despite his nature of deceit he grabbed hold of God and would not let go until God blessed him. Even after being wounded by God he still held on and said “I will not let go.” Within us as believers in God and His son Jesus we have these natures in us. They both fall grossly short of God; proving our need.
There are times, moments of destiny if you will, when we step into a moment so divine we must tread lightly and violently. “For heaven suffers violence and the violent take it by force.” Jacob grabbed hold of heaven with violence and even after being physically struck and afflicted he would not let go. We have to have that same quality in ourselves. Esau forsook that covenant for food. Jacob held onto it even in the face of physical affliction.
The natures we have in us will either bring us to a place of raw abandonment and leaning on God or to the destruction of our souls and separation from Him.
Jacob held true to who God and pursued the Lords blessing over his life and became the one from whom the 12 patriarchs came. He gave birth to 12 pillars of which the world’s destiny would be forever linked to...
Jacob, he was a son of Abraham. The genealogies list it like this, The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The crazy thing here is Jacob was not the first born. He was not the one to be listed in that line, it should say Abraham, Isaac and Esau.
But something happened.
Esau sold his birthright to Jacob. There are a couple things that could trip us up here. Can a birthright be sold? Aren’t you born into it? Is it even tangible?
Yes, yes and yes.
As I said previously about Esau, The birth right that he sold was not only about a parental blessing it was about taking the word of God at face value. But this is about the nature of Jacob…
Jacob was supplanter, he schemed he lied, and he deceived. So how did one like this ever get the blessing of God that would bring about the redemption of mankind?
After Esau sold his birthright, later Jacob tricked his father and lied to him-with the help of his mother; from that lie Jacob received the blessing due to the first born. This blessing wasn’t just about saying something nice about the first son, by receiving that blessing Jacob literally became as the first born.
After this he fled and married Leah and then Rachel. He had twelve sons. He later left his father in law and after some turbulent affairs came to a place where he was going to meet Esau. Jacob hangs here in a place of fear and uncertainty. His nature flares up again, he attempts to appease his brothers perceived anger by sending gifts.
And then something changes…
In Genesis 32:24
“…and then Jacob was left alone; and a Man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day. 25Now when he saw that he-the man-did not prevail against him-Jacob, He touched the socket of his hip; and the socket of Jacobs hip was out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26And He said, ‘let me go, for the day breaks.’ But he said ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me!’…” In the following versus the angel asks him his name and then renames him “ISRAEL” which meaning “God prevails”
Jacob stepped into something.
Despite his nature of deceit he grabbed hold of God and would not let go until God blessed him. Even after being wounded by God he still held on and said “I will not let go.” Within us as believers in God and His son Jesus we have these natures in us. They both fall grossly short of God; proving our need.
There are times, moments of destiny if you will, when we step into a moment so divine we must tread lightly and violently. “For heaven suffers violence and the violent take it by force.” Jacob grabbed hold of heaven with violence and even after being physically struck and afflicted he would not let go. We have to have that same quality in ourselves. Esau forsook that covenant for food. Jacob held onto it even in the face of physical affliction.
The natures we have in us will either bring us to a place of raw abandonment and leaning on God or to the destruction of our souls and separation from Him.
Jacob held true to who God and pursued the Lords blessing over his life and became the one from whom the 12 patriarchs came. He gave birth to 12 pillars of which the world’s destiny would be forever linked to...
Saturday, August 8, 2009
flowers in the desert
I have been in a real place of breaking recently, I don’t mean the “ow, that hurts stop poking me” I mean like the “AHHHHHHHH” flesh being pulled back and nailed to a wooden plank as your heart is plucked out and crushed until you bleed love-kind of breaking. Simply said, it has been great. No I’m not being sarcastic; in all honestly it has been amazing. How? Think of childbirth, a lot of pain and screaming and agony but there is definitely a joy in the process that something is changing and in the middle of all that discomfort there is the thought, “something is about to be born.”
That is where I am at, something is about to be born. Despite the ill fated nights of my clandestineness, where I was hiding beneath sheets of flesh trying to flesh out that ghastly nature of fleshly fleshiness; I have reached the point of having true joy in my position.
Recently I was rather taken aback by a simple but powerful encouragement via YouTube. In said encouragement, this dude was talking about “callings” and where people are at how to know what God has for you, said dude…said, “it isn’t about your ‘calling’ so to speak but rather what God has for you where you are now, you have to take it one day at a time and give yourself to the season you’re in now without living in the future that doesn’t exist yet. Find what you can and want to do know and run after it with the release of God.”
Too often we pass by what god has for us now by wasting our imagination and focus on what he will give us in the future. Today I know God has something for me, I just have to spend time with him so I know how to listen to what that is. This sounds simple and matter-of-fact-ish, but the truth is “it ain’t that easy.”
To love God is to pursue God and to pursue God means an active zeal in our hearts to push ourselves-through his grace-toward the ever so misquoted “prize.” That prize is Jesus himself. Everything else comes secondary to Him; Every ministry, Person and whatever half cocked Greek reasoned, self justified argument you could bring to deliver the contrary: in short lads and lass’, Jesus is the ultimate trump card.
So with this new place of broken joy, I am finding the desert to be a far more fruitful place than the dark soil of life’s little lessons. I don’t do little, I do big and I mean BIG. I know something is being born because I feel in my soul the pangs that it is taking to bring it forth.
All this is simple I know, I detest simple, useless diatribe aimed at reminding us that we are going to be ok and we are wrong for thinking otherwise. Are we wrong to think otherwise?
YES
But that is not the point, point is we live in a state of grace where it is not of works, and we are not debtors to the law.
It is way better this way, trust me.
So with a simple page or two of my ranting that seems so light hearted, I am conveying in part, 6 months of churning and tears and often times cuss filled frustrations at life and my circumstances, wanting more of God but knowing I was letting myself get in the way. Nights where my sleep was scattered, my heart more weighty than black hole and days of despair, destitution and bitter bitter, bitter words of a man that is long dead, “Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him.”
Ladies and men of the Gentle…hearts, He is faithful to fulfill what he promised. So with that, “keep on keepin on” and don’t wait for the future, make a Wave now, make it so big it knocks people over and leaves others sitting dumbfounded wanting to make one to.
If you want it bad enough, be ready to wear the sackcloth and ashes before you get the mantle and miracles.
Broken by grace, consumed by faith
Levi
That is where I am at, something is about to be born. Despite the ill fated nights of my clandestineness, where I was hiding beneath sheets of flesh trying to flesh out that ghastly nature of fleshly fleshiness; I have reached the point of having true joy in my position.
Recently I was rather taken aback by a simple but powerful encouragement via YouTube. In said encouragement, this dude was talking about “callings” and where people are at how to know what God has for you, said dude…said, “it isn’t about your ‘calling’ so to speak but rather what God has for you where you are now, you have to take it one day at a time and give yourself to the season you’re in now without living in the future that doesn’t exist yet. Find what you can and want to do know and run after it with the release of God.”
Too often we pass by what god has for us now by wasting our imagination and focus on what he will give us in the future. Today I know God has something for me, I just have to spend time with him so I know how to listen to what that is. This sounds simple and matter-of-fact-ish, but the truth is “it ain’t that easy.”
To love God is to pursue God and to pursue God means an active zeal in our hearts to push ourselves-through his grace-toward the ever so misquoted “prize.” That prize is Jesus himself. Everything else comes secondary to Him; Every ministry, Person and whatever half cocked Greek reasoned, self justified argument you could bring to deliver the contrary: in short lads and lass’, Jesus is the ultimate trump card.
So with this new place of broken joy, I am finding the desert to be a far more fruitful place than the dark soil of life’s little lessons. I don’t do little, I do big and I mean BIG. I know something is being born because I feel in my soul the pangs that it is taking to bring it forth.
All this is simple I know, I detest simple, useless diatribe aimed at reminding us that we are going to be ok and we are wrong for thinking otherwise. Are we wrong to think otherwise?
YES
But that is not the point, point is we live in a state of grace where it is not of works, and we are not debtors to the law.
It is way better this way, trust me.
So with a simple page or two of my ranting that seems so light hearted, I am conveying in part, 6 months of churning and tears and often times cuss filled frustrations at life and my circumstances, wanting more of God but knowing I was letting myself get in the way. Nights where my sleep was scattered, my heart more weighty than black hole and days of despair, destitution and bitter bitter, bitter words of a man that is long dead, “Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him.”
Ladies and men of the Gentle…hearts, He is faithful to fulfill what he promised. So with that, “keep on keepin on” and don’t wait for the future, make a Wave now, make it so big it knocks people over and leaves others sitting dumbfounded wanting to make one to.
If you want it bad enough, be ready to wear the sackcloth and ashes before you get the mantle and miracles.
Broken by grace, consumed by faith
Levi
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
prayer and suffering
There is an answer to prayer that is not the pretty little breeze of blessing; the beautiful conquering of some ill bred foe; the joy of a heart saved from self destruction. There is an answer which is ugly and grotesque, rank and flail-worthy; where screaming and kicking is the song and rhythm of your life. When you ask to have the heart of God: when you say you want to love more deeply than anything you have seen, to love the broken and downtrodden; side by side to the rich man; the pockets of whom are too swollen for him to know what it feels like to fall on his rump.
This answer comes in the complete destruction of oneself, the slow decay of every foundation and solid footing. The breaking of a man is one of the ugliest things I have ever seen in my life. Not to be hasty and judge the ugly things of no sure use, for they are. Before you build you have to lay waste, before you plant you have to plow.
It is a bitter thing to willingly subject oneself in a joining to the heart of God. Whoever says such a thing is a constant joy is a liar and a thief. The former for they cannot have the heart of God and not know the sorrow that is there, joy-yes-but sorrow also. The latter because such a damned fool is stealing truth from the hearts of honest people.
This answer comes in the complete destruction of oneself, the slow decay of every foundation and solid footing. The breaking of a man is one of the ugliest things I have ever seen in my life. Not to be hasty and judge the ugly things of no sure use, for they are. Before you build you have to lay waste, before you plant you have to plow.
It is a bitter thing to willingly subject oneself in a joining to the heart of God. Whoever says such a thing is a constant joy is a liar and a thief. The former for they cannot have the heart of God and not know the sorrow that is there, joy-yes-but sorrow also. The latter because such a damned fool is stealing truth from the hearts of honest people.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I
Broken concrete beneath my bleeding feet
You said stand
So here I am bleeding to death
Beneath bright skies that should stir joy
But inside this rubble laced coffin
I am suffocating
I could have died a thousand other places
With a bit more dignity
With some semblance of sober pride
But I have become a mockery
Will you let the righteous be forsaken?
CERTAINLY NOT
So come then
Swiftly, for I am no sparrow
I am falling without wings
Into a pit of darkness
Like death’s gaping mouth
Spreading to swallow the living
I will not waver
For you are sure to defend your name
You said stand
So here I am bleeding to death
Beneath bright skies that should stir joy
But inside this rubble laced coffin
I am suffocating
I could have died a thousand other places
With a bit more dignity
With some semblance of sober pride
But I have become a mockery
Will you let the righteous be forsaken?
CERTAINLY NOT
So come then
Swiftly, for I am no sparrow
I am falling without wings
Into a pit of darkness
Like death’s gaping mouth
Spreading to swallow the living
I will not waver
For you are sure to defend your name
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Valued Friends and family alike:
These letters are of no new insight to you. Once again I am seeking anyone willing to partner with me in what the Lord has set in my heart.
For those who don’t know where I have been, I am living in Springfield, Illinois working to help build a house of prayer and going to school fulltime. In the past year I have been working, doing school and part time prayer room staff. All year was a balancing act and by the grace of God I made it through.
However, this year I do not wish to repeat walking such a delicate and treacherous line. I want to go fulltime staff and be free to pursue other ministry needs the lord has laid on my heart. One is planting a campus church as an off branch of the house of prayer here. I need time to do this and I cannot take on anything else unless my work schedule is reduced. In addition to all of this I will be helping to form and teach an internship in the spring.
Since I have been here we have seen breakthrough in many areas. The mandate for this prayer room is governmental intercession. Two main examples of breakthrough would be the racial reconciliation meetings for the 1908 race riots. After the walks and meetings were completed, out of nowhere the medical community and the mayor released a public apology for the mistreatment of blacks during those riots. Again, last fall we began to pray for corrupt officials to be exposed and their sin to be made bare, shortly after the governor was impeached and continuing even to this moment many scandals are coming to light in Illinois politics.
Any contribution will give me leeway to run harder and give more time to the task at hand, to contribute not just to a house of prayer but a place where the broken and downtrodden can come and receive healing. To plant and raise up a campus church that will be meeting needs of students and bringing light to a world of muddled humanistic academia. And to prepare myself and others for the next mass student missions movement.
Any contribution, even 5 or 10 dollars a month will give me more time in the prayer room and to establish the campus ministry. I am seeking consistent monthly partners in prayer and financial support.
Will you consider partnering with me to fulfill what God has set in my heart?
All donations are tax deductible (with the exception of online donations through paypal) Please leave the “for” line blank. You may donate online through paypal at www.leviferguson.blogspot.com
Please make checks payable to: IHOP springfield contributions may be sent to- ATTN: LEVI FERGUSON 624 south 4th st. Springfield, Il 62703
Broken by grace, consumed by faith,
Levi Ferguson.
These letters are of no new insight to you. Once again I am seeking anyone willing to partner with me in what the Lord has set in my heart.
For those who don’t know where I have been, I am living in Springfield, Illinois working to help build a house of prayer and going to school fulltime. In the past year I have been working, doing school and part time prayer room staff. All year was a balancing act and by the grace of God I made it through.
However, this year I do not wish to repeat walking such a delicate and treacherous line. I want to go fulltime staff and be free to pursue other ministry needs the lord has laid on my heart. One is planting a campus church as an off branch of the house of prayer here. I need time to do this and I cannot take on anything else unless my work schedule is reduced. In addition to all of this I will be helping to form and teach an internship in the spring.
Since I have been here we have seen breakthrough in many areas. The mandate for this prayer room is governmental intercession. Two main examples of breakthrough would be the racial reconciliation meetings for the 1908 race riots. After the walks and meetings were completed, out of nowhere the medical community and the mayor released a public apology for the mistreatment of blacks during those riots. Again, last fall we began to pray for corrupt officials to be exposed and their sin to be made bare, shortly after the governor was impeached and continuing even to this moment many scandals are coming to light in Illinois politics.
Any contribution will give me leeway to run harder and give more time to the task at hand, to contribute not just to a house of prayer but a place where the broken and downtrodden can come and receive healing. To plant and raise up a campus church that will be meeting needs of students and bringing light to a world of muddled humanistic academia. And to prepare myself and others for the next mass student missions movement.
Any contribution, even 5 or 10 dollars a month will give me more time in the prayer room and to establish the campus ministry. I am seeking consistent monthly partners in prayer and financial support.
Will you consider partnering with me to fulfill what God has set in my heart?
All donations are tax deductible (with the exception of online donations through paypal) Please leave the “for” line blank. You may donate online through paypal at www.leviferguson.blogspot.com
Please make checks payable to: IHOP springfield contributions may be sent to- ATTN: LEVI FERGUSON 624 south 4th st. Springfield, Il 62703
Broken by grace, consumed by faith,
Levi Ferguson.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
witness
It starts like this
I am going to change the world or die attempting it, possibly die while changing it. The Gospel has become a hackneyed word for a preacher in a suit.
Pastors and laymen want to talk about having a witness?
The Greek word for witness is martyr.
Let's think about that. To be a witness of the Gospel is to be a Martyr of the Gospel...deep stuff right?
Let's go deeper, there is a bowl in heaven filled with judgment over one simple thing-the vindication of the martyrs.
Every martyr that has ever been is wearing a white robe under an alter in heaven crying out "HOW LONG?" And the big guy replies "Not until the numbers are fulfilled."
Let's digress and talk about the issue of bloodshed. The bible states that the life is in the Blood, sin=death, blood=life that is why Jesus had to have his blood shed; the perfect sacrifice bleeding life into a world corrupted by death.
Back to the martyrs. It is historically proven that the Gospel message flourishes under persecution. Be careful and don't misread me here. PERSECUTION IS NOT NECESSARY FOR THE GOSPEL TO SPREAD.
The first martyr was a man named Stephan, he asked that the people killing him would be forgiven. sound familiar? It should, It is what Jesus asked of God the father on the cross. RIGHT HERE PAY ATTENTION. Stephan followed in the footsteps of Jesus to death. He also followed in the footsteps of Jesus in forgiveness.
So what is my point?
The backbone of the church is the blood of the martyrs. When they die things change. When people pray things change. Martyrdom is the embracing of intercession to where a body physically becomes a prayer-life is in the blood. They don't realize it but the people doing the martyring are in effect spreading the Gospel. Blood cries out; dont believe me? Read Genesis.
One of the biggest discredits to the Western church is we dont give jack about the martyrs in the world. Let me throw out a wayyyy low ball number, 400 a day.
What is the point of this? The greatest mass persecution of Christians is going on right now in front of us. Greater than in acts, greater than the Inquisition. And with this great onslaught of murder something amazing is happening...revival is breaking out in the countries where persecution has been the most heinous and frequent.
As the second coming get's closer and closer persecution will be greater and greater and revival will be like we have never seen.
Years ago i swore to myself that i would be a zealot and that i would give my life to see the fullness of the gospel manifest before my eyes; that includes all the junk that comes with it, even if it killed me.
i know beyond a doubt the places i am going will be some of the ugliest, simply because no one else is going.
My point to all of this is we as believers don't know how to love. You think i'm lying? "No greater love has a man than this, to lay down his life for a friend" Jesus is my friend. Really, literally he is my friend. I am not doing missions because i think i have to or because i am in self denial and feel guilty and think i have to do this. No, i am doing missions because i love God. Love Him so deeply that I would go to the farthest reaches of the unknown to speak about a man that Has ruined me for something so beautiful.
"Those that are forgiven much love much" I know what the hell i was and i am never going back to that.
This is the tipping point, the time when we can change everything that we know. There is another missions movement coming and it is about to pop. I am going to make history, and even if no one comes with me im going to sow my life and blood into a people i was never born to and to a nation i have loved more deeply than i have loved anything.
I am going because my friend gave his life for something, and i think he deserves to have it. That something is people: He is worthy to receive the reward of his suffering.
Well that's why i'm going.
i got one question though
Why are you staying?
I am going to change the world or die attempting it, possibly die while changing it. The Gospel has become a hackneyed word for a preacher in a suit.
Pastors and laymen want to talk about having a witness?
The Greek word for witness is martyr.
Let's think about that. To be a witness of the Gospel is to be a Martyr of the Gospel...deep stuff right?
Let's go deeper, there is a bowl in heaven filled with judgment over one simple thing-the vindication of the martyrs.
Every martyr that has ever been is wearing a white robe under an alter in heaven crying out "HOW LONG?" And the big guy replies "Not until the numbers are fulfilled."
Let's digress and talk about the issue of bloodshed. The bible states that the life is in the Blood, sin=death, blood=life that is why Jesus had to have his blood shed; the perfect sacrifice bleeding life into a world corrupted by death.
Back to the martyrs. It is historically proven that the Gospel message flourishes under persecution. Be careful and don't misread me here. PERSECUTION IS NOT NECESSARY FOR THE GOSPEL TO SPREAD.
The first martyr was a man named Stephan, he asked that the people killing him would be forgiven. sound familiar? It should, It is what Jesus asked of God the father on the cross. RIGHT HERE PAY ATTENTION. Stephan followed in the footsteps of Jesus to death. He also followed in the footsteps of Jesus in forgiveness.
So what is my point?
The backbone of the church is the blood of the martyrs. When they die things change. When people pray things change. Martyrdom is the embracing of intercession to where a body physically becomes a prayer-life is in the blood. They don't realize it but the people doing the martyring are in effect spreading the Gospel. Blood cries out; dont believe me? Read Genesis.
One of the biggest discredits to the Western church is we dont give jack about the martyrs in the world. Let me throw out a wayyyy low ball number, 400 a day.
What is the point of this? The greatest mass persecution of Christians is going on right now in front of us. Greater than in acts, greater than the Inquisition. And with this great onslaught of murder something amazing is happening...revival is breaking out in the countries where persecution has been the most heinous and frequent.
As the second coming get's closer and closer persecution will be greater and greater and revival will be like we have never seen.
Years ago i swore to myself that i would be a zealot and that i would give my life to see the fullness of the gospel manifest before my eyes; that includes all the junk that comes with it, even if it killed me.
i know beyond a doubt the places i am going will be some of the ugliest, simply because no one else is going.
My point to all of this is we as believers don't know how to love. You think i'm lying? "No greater love has a man than this, to lay down his life for a friend" Jesus is my friend. Really, literally he is my friend. I am not doing missions because i think i have to or because i am in self denial and feel guilty and think i have to do this. No, i am doing missions because i love God. Love Him so deeply that I would go to the farthest reaches of the unknown to speak about a man that Has ruined me for something so beautiful.
"Those that are forgiven much love much" I know what the hell i was and i am never going back to that.
This is the tipping point, the time when we can change everything that we know. There is another missions movement coming and it is about to pop. I am going to make history, and even if no one comes with me im going to sow my life and blood into a people i was never born to and to a nation i have loved more deeply than i have loved anything.
I am going because my friend gave his life for something, and i think he deserves to have it. That something is people: He is worthy to receive the reward of his suffering.
Well that's why i'm going.
i got one question though
Why are you staying?
Friday, April 24, 2009
Eh Yo
my bad for not keepin it fresh, homies and ladies alike, i will soon to be announcing some good news and in it will be even better news. till then. CAPTAIN MY CAPAIN!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
machina
crunching metal is my beating heart
blasting like scat-filled cartridges
from this double barrel gauge of 12
or maybe 16?
bigger is not always better
like clanging bats on balls that have enough bass
to make themselves heard
a single piston pumping in this non metallic cage
steam billows from orifices
placed so artistically on my face
im pissed
Like a wrecking ball i am swinging
high and free
creaking with laughter
as i pummel the facade of fallacy
i am that crane, craning to touch God
blasting torches cutting like
tight-rope walking barbers
can you balance?
as these blinding lights
sear in their mark
and leave me smelling of burnt metal
the clock on the wall ticks one last time
as cards punch in and out
like a revolving door, or skirt
of the broken woman that sits on parramore
is she alone?
like chevy ford and dodge,
we are all good trucks
but its the drivers who crack our engine heads
as our rpms are pushed into red
we squeal beneath the pressure
as that ever familiar smell wafts into our cab
the smell of life going to fast for too many
glass flies in shatters
as hearts fly from open chests
with lives lying in tattered flags,
waving from the windows
of patriarchs
who still want to believe
i want to believe too
but like ice melting on glass warming
i am filled with carbon monoxide that makes
my smiles fade
for the spring of the song bird
has changed into a clash of the titans
with screaming fans their drink
intoxication is filling the ranks
and i am left wondering
can you hear my rhythm?
i am that slow beating drum
with that slight metal clang
to let you know
im not all natural
i wasnt something else before
i was made to make this noise
and like trumpets blaring in
beautiful defiance
i will be defiant
as the hammer clicks
the pin fires and in a blast of beauty
comprised of powdered gunnery
i am sailing through the air towards
cities in the inner
i believe
i believe
i believe in you...
blasting like scat-filled cartridges
from this double barrel gauge of 12
or maybe 16?
bigger is not always better
like clanging bats on balls that have enough bass
to make themselves heard
a single piston pumping in this non metallic cage
steam billows from orifices
placed so artistically on my face
im pissed
Like a wrecking ball i am swinging
high and free
creaking with laughter
as i pummel the facade of fallacy
i am that crane, craning to touch God
blasting torches cutting like
tight-rope walking barbers
can you balance?
as these blinding lights
sear in their mark
and leave me smelling of burnt metal
the clock on the wall ticks one last time
as cards punch in and out
like a revolving door, or skirt
of the broken woman that sits on parramore
is she alone?
like chevy ford and dodge,
we are all good trucks
but its the drivers who crack our engine heads
as our rpms are pushed into red
we squeal beneath the pressure
as that ever familiar smell wafts into our cab
the smell of life going to fast for too many
glass flies in shatters
as hearts fly from open chests
with lives lying in tattered flags,
waving from the windows
of patriarchs
who still want to believe
i want to believe too
but like ice melting on glass warming
i am filled with carbon monoxide that makes
my smiles fade
for the spring of the song bird
has changed into a clash of the titans
with screaming fans their drink
intoxication is filling the ranks
and i am left wondering
can you hear my rhythm?
i am that slow beating drum
with that slight metal clang
to let you know
im not all natural
i wasnt something else before
i was made to make this noise
and like trumpets blaring in
beautiful defiance
i will be defiant
as the hammer clicks
the pin fires and in a blast of beauty
comprised of powdered gunnery
i am sailing through the air towards
cities in the inner
i believe
i believe
i believe in you...
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
persuasion
im tired of the mundane and wanting something more and tired of wanting more and it being the same mundane things. I want more than a song or pretty words; i want more than what is in front of me...
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