This is pretty cool.
http://friendswritesongs.tumblr.com/
12.01.2010
11.17.2010
Of Lessons Learned
A few lessons and thoughts from Mexico.
- An ideal and practical three-part mission is this: The providers, the messengers, and the local workers. Which can you be? Which should you be? Which will you be? For all of us are called to be one of these in light of the Great Commission. Note the word “Commission” not “Suggestion”.
- If you want to be in the mission field full time (aka a messenger or worker) it’s best to have the qualifications of an elder. This does not mean impenetrable theology, but rather a deep and earnest desire to serve God, and a life that shows it. “Blameless, the husband of one wife, vigilant, sober, of good behavior, given to hospitality, apt to teach, not given to wine, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre; but patient, not a brawler, not covetous, one that ruleth well his own house, having his children in subjection with all gravity, not a novice… he must have a good report of them which are without.” This is even a call to all Christians, is it not?
- Mercy ministries are void without the vital presence of the Gospel in their work. Service and proclamation of Christ must be the first of your priorities in missions, otherwise you are just a good, worldly humanitarian. However, mercy ministries, giving without getting in return, is one of the best ways to be asked, “Why?” opening doors to share the gospel.
- Establishing relationships and helping those that cannot recompense anything for our works is the ultimate show of Christ’s love for us. These relationships are far more a testament to our love for Christ than helping those who have something to offer us in return. It also seems they are much fertile soil, yielding much greater fruits (Do the Scriptures agree with that? I don’t really know).
- The parable of the Good Samaritan was given as a response to this context:
“And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, ad tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? He said to him, What is written in the law? How readest thou? And he answered saying, Thou shalt love the Lord they God with all they heart, and with all they soul, and with all they strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself. And He said unto him, Thou hast answered right; this do and, thou shalt live. But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbor?”
Christ answered him with the parable. So who is our neighbor that we should love as ourselves? The most needy of the needy, the ones who cannot help themselves, the ones who could not possibly give anything in return, those are the ones we are to love as ourselves. Christian, are we loving them though? Jesus said in closing, “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbor unto him that fell among the thieves? And he said, He that showeth mercy unto him. Then Jesus said, Go and do likewise.”
- We cannot afford to give our “extra” money and time to missions at home and abroad, but rather, to sacrifice as much as we can. “Have you no wish for others to be saved? Then you are not saved yourself. Be sure of that.” – Charles Spurgeon We may not be a rich people, but we are not a poor people, many of my generation doesn’t even know what it means to be poor (yet). In the end of the day our Heavenly Father will not say, “Well done my good and faithful servant, you lived an easy life and accumulated many luxuries and possessions, and made quite a cute little life for yourself. I’m so proud of you.” We have far more than we need, can’t we spare a little? A little more?
- Radical, by David Platt, is a must read for the church at large today. I have seen its principles to be absolutely true.
- Many mission trips are self-satisfying and ignorant of what really helps the local population. Mexico has been a victim of know-it-all doers who have, in the end of the day, caused more harm physically and spiritually to the people they were supposed to help. We must be wise and listen to the needs of the people we intended to help, rather than presume we know what’s best. Wisdom asks, but knowledge talks. We must also remember the point of missions, it is not for us, but for them.
- The mission field you are called to is the one nearest to your heart and nearest to your person. You can be a resource to the mission field closest to your heart, sending books, money, or other needful gifts. The mission nearest to your person ever exists. It is in your home, in the home next to yours, and in the homes in your community. For some, these fields are the same. What are you doing to spread the Gospel in your mission field?
- Why, oh why, Lord, did you choose me to be elect? What could I ever do for you? Gloria de Dios.
- An ideal and practical three-part mission is this: The providers, the messengers, and the local workers. Which can you be? Which should you be? Which will you be? For all of us are called to be one of these in light of the Great Commission. Note the word “Commission” not “Suggestion”.
- If you want to be in the mission field full time (aka a messenger or worker) it’s best to have the qualifications of an elder. This does not mean impenetrable theology, but rather a deep and earnest desire to serve God, and a life that shows it. “Blameless, the husband of one wife, vigilant, sober, of good behavior, given to hospitality, apt to teach, not given to wine, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre; but patient, not a brawler, not covetous, one that ruleth well his own house, having his children in subjection with all gravity, not a novice… he must have a good report of them which are without.” This is even a call to all Christians, is it not?
- Mercy ministries are void without the vital presence of the Gospel in their work. Service and proclamation of Christ must be the first of your priorities in missions, otherwise you are just a good, worldly humanitarian. However, mercy ministries, giving without getting in return, is one of the best ways to be asked, “Why?” opening doors to share the gospel.
- Establishing relationships and helping those that cannot recompense anything for our works is the ultimate show of Christ’s love for us. These relationships are far more a testament to our love for Christ than helping those who have something to offer us in return. It also seems they are much fertile soil, yielding much greater fruits (Do the Scriptures agree with that? I don’t really know).
- The parable of the Good Samaritan was given as a response to this context:
“And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, ad tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? He said to him, What is written in the law? How readest thou? And he answered saying, Thou shalt love the Lord they God with all they heart, and with all they soul, and with all they strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself. And He said unto him, Thou hast answered right; this do and, thou shalt live. But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbor?”
Christ answered him with the parable. So who is our neighbor that we should love as ourselves? The most needy of the needy, the ones who cannot help themselves, the ones who could not possibly give anything in return, those are the ones we are to love as ourselves. Christian, are we loving them though? Jesus said in closing, “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbor unto him that fell among the thieves? And he said, He that showeth mercy unto him. Then Jesus said, Go and do likewise.”
- We cannot afford to give our “extra” money and time to missions at home and abroad, but rather, to sacrifice as much as we can. “Have you no wish for others to be saved? Then you are not saved yourself. Be sure of that.” – Charles Spurgeon We may not be a rich people, but we are not a poor people, many of my generation doesn’t even know what it means to be poor (yet). In the end of the day our Heavenly Father will not say, “Well done my good and faithful servant, you lived an easy life and accumulated many luxuries and possessions, and made quite a cute little life for yourself. I’m so proud of you.” We have far more than we need, can’t we spare a little? A little more?
- Radical, by David Platt, is a must read for the church at large today. I have seen its principles to be absolutely true.
- Many mission trips are self-satisfying and ignorant of what really helps the local population. Mexico has been a victim of know-it-all doers who have, in the end of the day, caused more harm physically and spiritually to the people they were supposed to help. We must be wise and listen to the needs of the people we intended to help, rather than presume we know what’s best. Wisdom asks, but knowledge talks. We must also remember the point of missions, it is not for us, but for them.
- The mission field you are called to is the one nearest to your heart and nearest to your person. You can be a resource to the mission field closest to your heart, sending books, money, or other needful gifts. The mission nearest to your person ever exists. It is in your home, in the home next to yours, and in the homes in your community. For some, these fields are the same. What are you doing to spread the Gospel in your mission field?
- Why, oh why, Lord, did you choose me to be elect? What could I ever do for you? Gloria de Dios.
11.02.2010
Of Día Tres
There's always the sounds of sirens. A constant reminder of the various dangers the deprived creation's mind can bring upon itself. They seem to be always around because every now and then I realize I've been hearing them whiz by every few minuets.
Children laughing and playing. Making the best of the life that can be had in a place like Acuña. The front door is always being swung open and closed because the only difference between playing inside and outside is the golden touch of the sun.
Concrete spans both sides of the door frame. The temperature also. The dust freely wanders in and out because the grass is always greener. And the feeling of home is the same.
Wild dogs run around outside without restraint. Some of them begin to fight viciously and the nearby kids just keep playing. Somehow they manage to still be kids when they're lacking food, education, and real safety from the local mafia. The Cartels control all the politics and trafficking here too. It's only safe because no one is challenging their lordship.
A Mexican radio- no, two of them now- are blasting homegrown Mariachi music. The only thing a radio seems to play around here. Within three miles of a town with a McDonald's lies half-built mud-brick buildings, shoulder to shoulder, scared with spray-paint, scattered across 4500 mi^2 of dessert. Seattle spans 84 mi^2.
I lay on a couch to sleep in a house I've only entered twice, in a home where they don't even speak my language or know my world. Yet they invite me to eat of their slim pickings.
Dust devils dance in unfinished streets where cars bought and sold ten times over studder by as beaten and as durable as the people who drive them.
Parents let the kids run rampant in the stores, as in the streets, they'll go find other kids, play cops and robbers and show up again when they need the parents. The bag-boys at checkout were a 50+ year old man and a 13 year old boy, side by side. Not working for wage- because it's illegal- but working for tips. It's every man- every child- for himself, again, as in the streets. The parents hardly ever keep a real eye on the kids, not because they do not care, but because the culture instills a sense of strength and survival. Strength because despite the poverty, gangs, and moral corruption, they still lift it, take it as it comes and find a way to enjoy life, find a way to survive. From the time they can walk out the front the door, they are required to learn to survive. As their parents did. And they do.
It's a new world down here. One that is in as needy as my own in material things, yet perhaps close to same in it's moral condition. The pressure on a Christian of who to help and how is immense. How could it not be? I want you all here now, with me, out of your pj's and quilt beds and warm homes and carpet rooms and full fridges and filtered water and wii consoles and fine restaurants and endless opportunities to live the American dream. Not so you'll give up all these things or so you'll feel bad and make a one time emotional donation. But so you'll be grateful for what you do have and that you'll have a new heart to help the poor, the widows, and the spiritually impoverished. In your community or in this one. My life was changed on day one of going to Mexico. And I have three more to go. How can I not use the assets God's given me, my mind, heart, money, mentors, the graces that are paired with salvation, the graces unique to me, to do what this world needs most?
Alas, I can not.
Children laughing and playing. Making the best of the life that can be had in a place like Acuña. The front door is always being swung open and closed because the only difference between playing inside and outside is the golden touch of the sun.
Concrete spans both sides of the door frame. The temperature also. The dust freely wanders in and out because the grass is always greener. And the feeling of home is the same.
Wild dogs run around outside without restraint. Some of them begin to fight viciously and the nearby kids just keep playing. Somehow they manage to still be kids when they're lacking food, education, and real safety from the local mafia. The Cartels control all the politics and trafficking here too. It's only safe because no one is challenging their lordship.
A Mexican radio- no, two of them now- are blasting homegrown Mariachi music. The only thing a radio seems to play around here. Within three miles of a town with a McDonald's lies half-built mud-brick buildings, shoulder to shoulder, scared with spray-paint, scattered across 4500 mi^2 of dessert. Seattle spans 84 mi^2.
I lay on a couch to sleep in a house I've only entered twice, in a home where they don't even speak my language or know my world. Yet they invite me to eat of their slim pickings.
Dust devils dance in unfinished streets where cars bought and sold ten times over studder by as beaten and as durable as the people who drive them.
Parents let the kids run rampant in the stores, as in the streets, they'll go find other kids, play cops and robbers and show up again when they need the parents. The bag-boys at checkout were a 50+ year old man and a 13 year old boy, side by side. Not working for wage- because it's illegal- but working for tips. It's every man- every child- for himself, again, as in the streets. The parents hardly ever keep a real eye on the kids, not because they do not care, but because the culture instills a sense of strength and survival. Strength because despite the poverty, gangs, and moral corruption, they still lift it, take it as it comes and find a way to enjoy life, find a way to survive. From the time they can walk out the front the door, they are required to learn to survive. As their parents did. And they do.
It's a new world down here. One that is in as needy as my own in material things, yet perhaps close to same in it's moral condition. The pressure on a Christian of who to help and how is immense. How could it not be? I want you all here now, with me, out of your pj's and quilt beds and warm homes and carpet rooms and full fridges and filtered water and wii consoles and fine restaurants and endless opportunities to live the American dream. Not so you'll give up all these things or so you'll feel bad and make a one time emotional donation. But so you'll be grateful for what you do have and that you'll have a new heart to help the poor, the widows, and the spiritually impoverished. In your community or in this one. My life was changed on day one of going to Mexico. And I have three more to go. How can I not use the assets God's given me, my mind, heart, money, mentors, the graces that are paired with salvation, the graces unique to me, to do what this world needs most?
Alas, I can not.
10.29.2010
Of Two-Steps
Tomorrow I leave for Mexico to go to an orphanage to see what needs they have and how I can help them long term.
Also, I wrote at work today.
The Angels and the Demons both terried at my door,
Angels, exercising flaming blades; the Demons seemed to snore.
Or perhaps they were snarling at the sight Angels afford.
Yet, each party awaited me, eagerly at my door.
Inside I mulled it silently, watching while I wait.
Great questions clenched my spirit, of future and of fate.
Am I safe to take a new road? with past stains upon my stave?
What if creatures dead and gone to me, were all along awake?
Some roads I've taken carelessly and bare the scars to prove.
Perhaps the one most damaging, the one I can't remove,
Is the one that lies the deepest, secret e'en to the local news.
So what should be marked experience, with puzzlement is viewed.
This ignis fatuus haunts me, this Demon's riddled crime.
Yet criminals upon the cross, hung with greater ease of mind!
So why not I? What can't I? have peace 'neath trials eye?
Because it was of me that my innocence had to die.
Here I stand roads later, a slew of sufferings and signs,
Afraid to rouse evil's behind me, or provoke equals from on high.
Inside my room I tensely mull, biding or wasting all my time,
Hoping what the Writer wrote for me, soon illuminates my mind.
The Angels and the Demons, quiet, close, so they can hear,
Me passing o'er a single thought: That e'en though their near,
It's not the celestial beings' power that I've come to fear
But the order they'll be given once my free will is made clear.
Also, I wrote at work today.
The Angels and the Demons both terried at my door,
Angels, exercising flaming blades; the Demons seemed to snore.
Or perhaps they were snarling at the sight Angels afford.
Yet, each party awaited me, eagerly at my door.
Inside I mulled it silently, watching while I wait.
Great questions clenched my spirit, of future and of fate.
Am I safe to take a new road? with past stains upon my stave?
What if creatures dead and gone to me, were all along awake?
Some roads I've taken carelessly and bare the scars to prove.
Perhaps the one most damaging, the one I can't remove,
Is the one that lies the deepest, secret e'en to the local news.
So what should be marked experience, with puzzlement is viewed.
This ignis fatuus haunts me, this Demon's riddled crime.
Yet criminals upon the cross, hung with greater ease of mind!
So why not I? What can't I? have peace 'neath trials eye?
Because it was of me that my innocence had to die.
Here I stand roads later, a slew of sufferings and signs,
Afraid to rouse evil's behind me, or provoke equals from on high.
Inside my room I tensely mull, biding or wasting all my time,
Hoping what the Writer wrote for me, soon illuminates my mind.
The Angels and the Demons, quiet, close, so they can hear,
Me passing o'er a single thought: That e'en though their near,
It's not the celestial beings' power that I've come to fear
But the order they'll be given once my free will is made clear.
10.17.2010
Of One Sunday's Closing Ceremonies
I roll out my little makeshift bed.
I plug in my little lamp.
I invent little ideas up with my 10 inch head.
I think of all the problems I have and toy around with different ways to solve them.
I type away on my little keyboard making small noises that fill up the entire room.
I burn away the hours at night, plotting my grand schemes to optimally navigate roads I've self defined.
I have my goals, that I want to subdue, that I've chosen, that would make me happy.
And then I remember it's about what Christ would have me do.
I wonder if I have anything figured out after all.
I question if all my operations will ever be executed as planned.
I look at how Jesus spent most his ministry on 12 men, yet took opportunities to feed 5000, knowing all along who'd see the truth and who'd take advantage of his compassion.
I realized I need to be, should be, desire to be, just like him.
A "little Christ".
I unplug my little lamp.
I roll over and wait for my eyes to adjust so I can stare at the ceiling.
I know I don't have much figured out, but I know I have enough figured out.
Goodnight.
I plug in my little lamp.
I invent little ideas up with my 10 inch head.
I think of all the problems I have and toy around with different ways to solve them.
I type away on my little keyboard making small noises that fill up the entire room.
I burn away the hours at night, plotting my grand schemes to optimally navigate roads I've self defined.
I have my goals, that I want to subdue, that I've chosen, that would make me happy.
And then I remember it's about what Christ would have me do.
I wonder if I have anything figured out after all.
I question if all my operations will ever be executed as planned.
I look at how Jesus spent most his ministry on 12 men, yet took opportunities to feed 5000, knowing all along who'd see the truth and who'd take advantage of his compassion.
I realized I need to be, should be, desire to be, just like him.
A "little Christ".
I unplug my little lamp.
I roll over and wait for my eyes to adjust so I can stare at the ceiling.
I know I don't have much figured out, but I know I have enough figured out.
Goodnight.
10.09.2010
Of Café Manchas
I got mounds of dirty clothes, that have been sitting for weeks,
Probably got little animals, living in between the seems
I got mile high stacks, dishes on my desk
Fingerprints on the walls, I’ve done well to neglect
Coffee stains on my shoes,
'cause I’m just that incredibly smooth.
Got books strune across, a matressless room
Guitars, drums sets, and amps, and still a spot just for you
My floors a home to the critters, and itty-bitty ants
They throw all kinds of parties, and invite all their friends
Coffee stains on my shoes,
'cause I’m just that incredibly smooth.
But with your love I don’t mind,
I’ll be myself every time.
Coffee stains on my shoes,
'cause I’m just that incredibly smooth.
Café manchas mis zapatos, porque estoy que muy genial.
Probably got little animals, living in between the seems
I got mile high stacks, dishes on my desk
Fingerprints on the walls, I’ve done well to neglect
Coffee stains on my shoes,
'cause I’m just that incredibly smooth.
Got books strune across, a matressless room
Guitars, drums sets, and amps, and still a spot just for you
My floors a home to the critters, and itty-bitty ants
They throw all kinds of parties, and invite all their friends
Coffee stains on my shoes,
'cause I’m just that incredibly smooth.
But with your love I don’t mind,
I’ll be myself every time.
Coffee stains on my shoes,
'cause I’m just that incredibly smooth.
Café manchas mis zapatos, porque estoy que muy genial.
10.05.2010
Of Customa Cistorca
I think I can finally say I know how
To figure this all out.
Patterns, will tell me I’m a grown man
Will say there’s too much to know man,
I’ll never figure it out.
I’ll tried five different ways to say
I lived two lifetimes to date.
The only record I keep are mistakes
So I can figure it out.
Lose souls and cleaning feels so hallow.
Memorize the old tunes note for note;
If I could be considered closer than most,
For you, I’ll use every skill I still know.
To one day figure it out,
Even after all those desert years,
My faith and heart can be clean and clear.
If you can see and have patience with me;
Listen close to the voice of the first of each;
You’d see, that what I’d say, I hide in these.
So you can figure this out.
To figure this all out.
Patterns, will tell me I’m a grown man
Will say there’s too much to know man,
I’ll never figure it out.
I’ll tried five different ways to say
I lived two lifetimes to date.
The only record I keep are mistakes
So I can figure it out.
Lose souls and cleaning feels so hallow.
Memorize the old tunes note for note;
If I could be considered closer than most,
For you, I’ll use every skill I still know.
To one day figure it out,
Even after all those desert years,
My faith and heart can be clean and clear.
If you can see and have patience with me;
Listen close to the voice of the first of each;
You’d see, that what I’d say, I hide in these.
So you can figure this out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)