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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
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