covered in dust: 2011

Resistance

"It's hard to grow up," Jonah says to me with defeat in voice and a sigh on his breath. With empathy I replied, "I know buddy, but you can do it. I believe in you."

Jonah was facing Resistance.

Resistance is always available to meet you in what could be your most defining character-building moments... and it's insidious goal is to prevent you from moving forward.

Resistance is the voice that tells you that you can't.

It is the invisible wall that you hit. It is the block that kills your creativity. It is the heavy blanket that keeps you in bed. It is the distraction the kills your productivity. It is the unseen chain the binds you from pursuing healthy endeavors.

Resistance always seeks to kill, steal, and destroy.

It is always pushing you back. It is the counter measure to every good intention. It is unrealized potential.

Resistance will always let you downgrade.

It is the tide you push against. It is the comfortable. It is the known. It is the almost adventure that you could have had.

Resistance is futile.

It will never allow success. It will always entice you to become ineffective, unimportant.

Push through.

Choose the harder conversation. Choose the path unknown. Choose the adventure. Choose to leap hoping the net will appear. Choose to be stretched. Choose to face that which scares you.

Resistance will never quit and so neither must we. We must choose to fight because to surrender would be choosing the lessor existence, choosing to be less human.

Reclaim your life.

For more on Resistance and how to overcome it, I highly recommend The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.

| composed by dave |

On writing

The most difficult task that I face on a weekly and monthly basis is not necessarily what to write but just to write. I find that often I like to unpack large ideas and seemingly attempt to excavate mountains each and every time I sit down to put "pen to paper".

I've been challenged by this over the months putting unnecessary pressure on myself to think of the next big topic to tackle or the next significant progress in my journey of faith. The truth is that most of my progress as a human is made in small doses over time. Additioanlly, I often have ideas that keep me captivated for days that are not complete but just glimpses of what God is doing in my life. In the past, I have chosen to wait to write until such time as a more complete picture can emerge.

But I'm sensing a shift.

I have a real desire to write more often in smaller, bite-sized chunks. Part of this stems from my prior, unhealthy obsession with being a people pleaser and seeking the approval of others. Miss that link between the two? It's this- I wouldn't write until I knew that I had something to offer that was complete, not in process, because I couldn't handle the push back.

What I've been learning more deeply about myself this year is that I'm wired to be a provoker and as a provoker I communicate to incite curiosity and conversation and to inspire imagination. What burns within my gut with passion is this: I'm more concerned that those around me and those that I influence are not passified by their existence but are compelled to begin living to be more tomorrow than they are today.

Here's to pushing against the Resistance...

| composed by dave |

You are what you...

Read.

Well, I suppose the popularized vernacular is "You are what you eat," but there is an element of truthfulness to my updated iteration of this well known idiom.

Tonight, my wife initiated several rounds of questions for my family and I to discuss as we ate dinner together (one of my favorite times to BE with my family). Most nights, we sit around trying to coerce my almost five year old son to eat or sit in his chair or stop playing with his toys. But tonight was different. After a few rounds of questions like, "What is the best and worst thing about your height?" to "How comfortable are you with uncertainty?" we landed on a question that made me dig deep.

"What are some books that have influenced your life?"

Jonah, my soon-to-be five year old boy, said very matter-of-factly, "Blue's clues. It makes my brain grow bigger and makes me smarter."

Fair enough.

Lisa, my bride, responded with a few goodies of her own-- The Bible, Made to Crave, and Captivating.

Then, it was my turn. After listening to my family, I paused before I began by assessing a quick inventory of my heart then I listed to following (in no particular order) as the most influential books that I could think of off the top of my head:

The Bible
Forgotten God
Wild at Heart
Velvet Elvis
More Than A Carpenter
Blue Like Jazz
The Barbarian Way (also called Unleashed)
Chasing Daylight
Ruthless Trust
A Glimpse of Jesus
I Once Was Lost
Questioning Evangelism
The Lord of The Rings
The Chronicles of Narnia

I told my son that all of these books (and a few others that I didn't name) have been very influential in shaping who I am today but none as powerfully as The Scriptures (The Bible).

What books have influenced you?

| composed by dave |

deep calls to deep

http://instagr.am/p/BxEHQ/

My soul is downcast within me;

therefore I will remember you

from the land of the Jordan,

the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep

in the roar of your waterfalls;

all your waves and breakers

have swept over me.

(Psalm 42:6-7)

My heart is only adulterous all the time; it betrays me. My soul longs for the intimate embrace of the Infinite One, the Imminent Lover yet my affections devour the sweet, honey-soaked morsels of the immediate, the counterfeit. The essence of my being-- that cavernous void of limitless potential-- yearns for the inexhaustible depth and expanse of Glory; to swim in the grace of Him who is more just and more loving whose boundless mercy exceeds the grandeur of the sunrise, the majesty of the mountains, the elation of a baby's giggle.

Deep calls to deep.

Oh hear the cry of my heart: to know the richness of His Spirit in all things, at all times; to reflect the light of His face with such radiance that my skin becomes a translucent veil to His beautiful splendor. But this treacherous core in my inmost being swoons for the flash, neglecting the brilliant; chases the instant, over the Infinite.

This is where all wars originate. This is where the battle was won. On this ethereal plain the King was victorious and now beckons the allegiance of all who would be brave enough to cast aside their own affections-- their own lives-- to follow Him.

This is not a call to become a better me; a better you. This is not a call to simply change my mind; change your mind. This is a call to die.

My heart must be removed not renewed. My heart must be replaced anew and my life reformed into the likeness of the King who ransomed my life with His own blood. It is at His feet that I lay my sword and pledge not only my allegiance but my all- the very fabric of my being.

Jump, wandering pilgrim, into the dark unknown waters of His love and swim in the sea of His grace leaving behind the shallow existence of a lesser life for then you will live and know the Truth of reality for deep calls to deep.

| composed by dave |

I want...

http://instagr.am/p/BwxLv/

Free.

I want to be free: to run full throttle into the unknown, chasing the horizon.

I want to be unleashed: to be untethered by the restraints of opinions, predisposed suppositions, and predetermined labels.

I want to be untamed: to live as a barbarian-- dangerous, radical, savage.

Bound.

I want to be bound: to be shackled to love and encapsulated by peace.

I want to be harnessed: to be sealed and clothed in the mystical armor of The Spirit, arrested by the glory of a warrior.

I want to be tempered: to will and act with precision and intent that releases power and energy not of my own design or manufacture but that of Divine origin.

Broken.

I want to be broken: to run into a Presence that surpasses my understanding and brings me to awe and wonder.

I want to be undone: to live in full surrender to each moment, each whim of my Sustainer.

I want to be diminished: to live fully in my identity while chiseled, hewn, and sculpted into the image of my Forebearer.

Whole.

I want to be whole: to lack nothing; complete.

I want to be interwoven: to be fully integrated as a mosaic tapestry of Spirit, mind, body, soul, skills, gifts, passions, desires, and dreams.

I want to be significant: to be a force for good as a light in the Darkness and a beacon of Hope for the sojourner and absent.

I want...

| composed by dave |

Braveheart- A Hero Will Rise

Your heart is free. Have the courage to follow it.
-Malcolm Wallace, Braveheart

The journey of a few days lasted what would seem to be several months; for the adventure into the fabric of my being-- of my deepest core-- is one filled with awe, treachery, and freedom. The Council at Hunt had adjourned and the test of any hero would lie within the challenges that he faces in the throngs of battle whether they be relational, vocational, or spiritual.

The journey through the Braveheart Intensive was not in and of itself a destination but a time of re-purposing for the road ahead... and the road ahead contains dangers and glory to be discovered. It is in the risk that adventure is conceived and it is in the conflict that peace is born. The mettle of any hero is won or lost not in the avoidance of struggle and combat but in engaging the confrontation with honor and humility seeking to bring evil to justice while administering grace and mercy even to his enemies.

But was I equipped enough for the arduous engagement with an unseen, unrelenting Enemy? The sleepless eyes of my Enemy lurk and hunt for moments of weakness with weapons of lies and deception, with half-truths and well-crafted arguments; all the while masquerading as that which is admirable and gratifying.

A vision. An imaginative prayer. A powerful glimpse into who I may become on this path of living by my true name and to my Divine mission.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends...

I sat silent with my comrades, relaxing as I listened to the wind caress the trees with a sensual whimsy causing an arousal of leaves and branches like a soft applause or a gentle rain. My chest rising and falling to the rhythm of God's creation. The birds, aloft on the breeze, flitted to and fro behind me like lovers dancing to the sway of a symphony while the sun kissed my neck with spouses lips gently pressing her love onto my skin, warm and luxurious.

My mind now fixed on Him; my heart steadfast on the Spirit of Yahweh waiting for Him to rouse my mind's eye.

A glimpse. A vision. A Divine daydream.

A large, open field of golden Elysium lay stretched out before me like the hair of a lover cascades across her pillow and the air sweetened by Spring's flowers and Autumn's maple sugar. I stood silent soaking in the panoramic view as I was captivated by the rolling green hills and purple, snow capped mountains. The forest stood at a distance majestic and proud in stature, dark, yet alluring to the adventurer's heart.

A man. A warrior appears in the distance; walking from the forest toward me. At first, I am surprised and startled with a fear much akin to reverence. As he treks through the field toward me, I begin to notice the detail of this battle-worn hero.

He is strong, confident, and humble; clothed in a brown, jedi-like outer robe resembling Qui Gon Jinn. His armor peeked through his cloak giving glimpses of war-torn futuristic breastplate, grieves, and a sword. But this was not just any sword.

He nears; standing before me and staring into me, he was intensely focused with brilliantly-fiery, deep-blue eyes. His face was familiar like that of a reflection in a mirror yet older, wiser. He beheld me standing before him and smiled, smirked like a father proud of his son; he then extended a gesture of a forearm grip greeting in lieu of a handshake and pulled me in close for a tender embrace-- lovingly, steadfast. We held one another and paused. As he re-established his stance, He smiled at me and re-engaged our gaze with his hands firmly planted on my shoulders gently. With a hardy and compassionate voice, he implores me, "Fight; never give up."

With all my focus attentive to his every move, he lowered his right hand to rest on the hilt of his sword then, with one swift, dignified movement, he drew his sword from it's sheath. Brilliant with a bluish, fiery luminescence-- glowing like the sun as if forged from a lightening bolt-- he held it before me on his open hands, admiring it's workmanship while reminiscing of it's glory in battle. With admiration and honor, he extended his hands toward me in a ceremonious fashion offering me this magnificent blade and, with deep conviction, he encouraged me, "Here, this is for the journey ahead." The radiance and grandeur of this transcendent blade was now bestowed to me as it's rightful steward.

Upon returning from my Divinely inspired daydream, my heart soared with delight as I knew that I was now bestowed not only the Spirit name, values, and mission that would guide me on the journey ahead but the tools with which to live out a life fully alive and free.

I left the Council of Hunt a hero and king in alliance with and in allegiance to my Lord and King, Jesus. The journey to free begins...

The Braveheart Intensive

| composed by dave |

Braveheart- The Shadow Broker

"You cannot pass! I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun! Go back to the shadow. You shall not pass!"

- Gandalf the gray, Lord Of The Rings

You only have a Shadow if you are in the Light; the brighter the Light, the darker the Shadow. We now delve deep into the realm of secrets and whispers where echoes of identity are lost and quickly forgotten under a fog of deception like a cloud concealing a majestic mountain peak. Come with me on a journey into the darkest realms of my mind and soul where there lives a broker who trades my strength to the highest bidder. It is time for darker tales...

Even the most heroic expedition and the most noble treatise has moments of hushed, chilling dusk whence enters the antagonist who, with darkest of intent, seeks to besmirch the protagonist through crafty reasoning, deceptive ambitions, and malicious vigor. So it should come as no surprise that my journey to becoming one of the dangerous, radical free also encountered this distorted version of my identity who, when at my worst, seeks to destroy not only my life but those around me.

At first, I avoided the undertaking. For I know best of all what lurked beneath the surface. I dreaded revealing the caged beast that sought to destroy me and hoped to postpone the weight of guilt that I knew would ensue upon turning to see the Thing that chases me and hunts me and pursues me with sleepless strength.

I paced the cabin. I distracted myself.

With an inward thrust of air, I filled my lungs to their capacity like a balloon about to burst. Then slowly, I exhaled. Releasing my fear and turning toward the Shadow with pen and paper in hand, I wrote...

My Shadow mission is to believe that I am a timid and frightened little boy who is destined for failure, that is "less than", and who will never have true impact, meaning, mission, or influence. My Shadow mission is to believe that I am incapable and do not have what it takes. My Shadow mission is to allow self-deprecating behavior lessen me to become ineffective, self-preserving, and self-medicating. My Shadow mission is to become a slave to counterfeit intimacy and depraved masculinity. My Shadow mission is to believe that the approval of others determines my worth and value. My Shadow mission is full of shame and strives to punish me through self-doubt and depression thus forfeiting true community, authenticity, and transparency while making me a raging narcissist, full of bitterness and anger. My Shadow mission tells me that I am a poser, fake and flaw that no one will ever respect.

You see, my Shadow's mission is the opposite of my identity as FireWolf.

One very symbolic narrative that intrigues me about true identity and shadow is that of Peter Pan, the boy who never wanted to grow up. Early on in the fable, Peter Pan chases his shadow across London and arrives at the room of three sleeping children.

I'm sure you know the story well. Introductions are made. The shadow is apprehended.

But what is fascinating to me is what happens next. Peter insists on having his shadow reattached to his person so that it will never escape him again.

I wonder... how long have I wished that my Shadow would depart from me and never return? The parts of my identity that have been forfeited to the Shadow are not worth losing and therefore, I must keep my Shadow so as to recover my whole self from the broker that lies crafty whispers and murmurs of ill intent. When my identity retreats to Shadow, I must with all honor and humility fight and engage my Shadow with compassionate curiosity to bring that portion of my identity hiding in Shadow into the Light of community so as to break the power of shame which holds it captive allowing the Shadow Broker to slowly squelch and quench the Glory and Strength of God in me.

This was the hardest part of my journey at Braveheart but wise words from a trusted sage breathed fresh life into this area of my story when he said, "Where you are wounded is where you are strongest and God is redeeming that [portion of who you are]. For 'when you are weak, then you are strong'."

The Braveheart Intensive

| composed by dave |

Braveheart- Values

"You know why they volunteered? Because they knew that the man in the foxhole next to them would be the best, not some draftee who's going to get them killed... Don't ever put yourself in the position where you can take from these men." - Richard Winters, Band of Brothers

I want to take a step back for a moment; to return to what gave shape to my identity and ultimately, my mission-- my values.

Understanding my values and excavating them from my soul has been, and continues to be, a task of bravery and determination that requires absolute resolve to not only listen to my heart but to simultaneously listen to the voice of my Lord and King. The simple solution would be to think about it intensely and make intellectually sound decisions, but this would betray my core essence and forfeit any real, lasting relevance to my life because then I would not be resonating with what truly brings me alive. That is the goal of discovering values-- what makes my heart come alive?

What is a value? A quality, experience, or way of engaging life that fills me up, gets my blood going, and nourishes my soul. It is not an activity that I am doing but rather a lens through which I gaze into life and filter the crap from the exciting. Each person's values differ, each unique.

As I began describing the vision board that I brought with me, I told stories about why certain images resonated with me and how they made me feel. The type of emotions they invoked within me and the life that each picture lit up within my soul.

Patterns and repeated phrases slowly became apparent but I became frustrated with the length of the process. Nothing seemed transferable enough or grand enough to stand the test of a multitude of environments. Some perceived values were small and only applied to certain portions of my life. Other values didn't even make sense at first.

I prayed. Then I prayed some more.

Then I listened and asked Jesus to reveal to me what He was trying to tell me. The answers did not arrive like a protagonist on a white horse about to sweep in and save the day. No, the answers were not swift. They danced on the fringes of the firelight of my soul and pranced on the periphery of my mind's eye. My heart's ears listened intently for hours, days. Even after the Braveheart council had adjourned, with each brave warrior returning to his domain, I was still pressing into the values and asking questions.

With pen in hand, I waited. I waited like a battalion leader eagerly and singularly focused on the battle line, anticipating that at any moment gunfire would break the mind-numbing silence and chaos would ensue. Like drops dripping from a leaky faucet, my values began to fill up the bucket of my parched soul.

They are...

Provoker-- this is my voice. I must be heard. I must contribute.

Vanguard Elite-- entrepreneurial battalion leader. I must go but I do not go alone. I lead the pack and show the way.

Apprenticeship & Mastery-- a leader of leaders. I must invest in others who will not simply consume but contribute and master the strength they inherit from me by apprenticing others to do the same.

Water Bender-- rhythm and flow. Life MUST have a rhythm and flow.

Cultural Architect-- creating environments. I must create a new reality. I am most alive when I am shaping and crafting the culture, environment, and experiences around me.

Barbarian-- autonomy. I cannot be contained. Labels, rigid constraints, and conjectured ideals will only stifle my existence. I must challenge the status quo and break preconceived molds.

Alchemist-- imaginative creativity. I must create. I must be unique.

"Euripides"-- insatiable curiosity. Question everything (respectfully and humbly). Learn something (everyone has a story). Answer nothing (be quick to listen and slow to speak).

The names are of no consequence and have very little meaning to the average onlooker but resonate deeply with me. That is the point to the obscure names, they have resonance with my soul (the quotes notate a place holder name that has yet to be decided).

As I have leaned into these values over the past week, they are truly representative of the aforementioned definition of a value and have proved to be invaluable in directing and guiding what I say "yes" to and what I say "no" to, good or bad. I have found freedom in resting in these values, reaffirmed time and time again by my Spirit within me and even at times Scripturally, though not all are explicitly named in Scripture (yet they are not overtly denied by Scripture either).

Come and see, scared little boy, the most excellent way has been revealed. Let us no longer hold to timidity but be clothed in Strength. For I am FireWolf and that is the truest part of our identity.

The Braveheart Intensive

| composed by dave |

Braveheart- Identity and Mission

"Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file. Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will. Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold. You are the first human Spectre..."

- The Council, Mass Effect

"We're at war. No one wants to admit it but Humanity's under attack. One very specific man might be all that stands between Humanity and the greatest threat of our brief existence. We need a leader, and surround him with the brightest, the toughest, the deadliest allies we can find. The team will have to be strong, their resolve unquestionable."

- The Illusive Man, Mass Effect 2

Identity. Who am I? What is my purpose?

Those words have often echoed throughout the empty spaces of my heart and soul. At times, they have pained my existence with doubt and fear reducing me to nothing more than a helpless child hoping to cling to his Daddy for love and affirmation. This utter dependency on the Giver of Life is good and beneficial in healthy doses. But, the powerlessness and fear and timidity that are often associated with such incapacitation has a tendency to squelch the true power of the Spirit of Christ that resides within me and who is able to overcome all things.

The King needs warriors, champions for His Kingdom not court jesters, fools.

A statement of identity defines one's existence and shapes who they are and how they will respond at any given moment. An identity flows from the desires, dreams, and values placed within us. An identity is like a passport or filter that impacts every decision, every relationship, every interaction.

The process of allowing The Magnificent One to breath afresh within my soul the identity that He crafted within me was gut-wrenching, simple, and arduous. Listening and wrestling, receiving and creating-- giving shape and form to inaudible words like a sculptor crafting a masterpiece from a slab of marble; this is not for the faint of heart. The development and formation (though Divinely guided) of rediscovering my true identity was and still is shocking, intimidating, and awe-inspiring.

It brings me to a place of inward worship-- a place of honor, humility, and confidence.

The scared little boy was about to find out who I really am.

God speaks to us about our design though our desires and we build our lives around how we are designed... but there is a cautionary word that must be given-- do not suppose you understand your design or desire. Not all desires are rooted in God's design. Not all design is as God intended.

This is where the Spirit dance of listening and acting, receiving and creating begins. This much I know about the waltz of uncovering my truest identity in Christ... I cannot own what I do not name. Naming my identity as His Spirit leads, staking claim to the singularity of my uniqueness in Him is essential to understanding who I am in ANY circumstance, ANY context.

Words emerged. Images began to take shape. A new character that is as old as I am is reborn. My identity takes shape, form.

It reads...

I am FireWolf-- passionate and majestic-- the mystical warrior poet and hero of Light who sees the Invisible and hears the Inaudible. I am a barbarian, a vanguard, one of the dangerous, radical free, who boldly hunts and pursues souls to awaken and unleash hearts for the King.

Yes, this is it! THIS is who I really am.

My identity now serves as a catalyst for mission in every aspect of my life. If I stood tall and steadfast in my true identity in each area of my life-- fully present in all strength, humility, and freedom-- who would I be? What gift would the world receive from God through me in each of arena of my existence? What splendor would be revealed in me by His Spirit to His glory and praise?

Visions appear. My body posture is set in motion. The story of my mission is being told to me through the Spirit of my Creator in word, imagination, and fluid motion as I begin to create gestures and stances like a tai chi master. The flow of movement reveals a theme.

So I write...

My mission is to inspire vision and direction through activism and to provoke hearts to greater intimacy and freedom in Christ.

See, little boy, you are becoming a man. There is no need to fear for the Sustainer of Life has spoken to you and given you a new name. You are FireWolf and you have a mission. It is now time to take up arms and fight the good fight. The Spirit of the Lord is on me because He has anointed me. The blind need their sight restored. The oppressed need freedom. It is the year of the Lord's favor!

The Braveheart Intensive

| composed by dave |

Braveheart- Dare to Dream

"Brothers, what we do in life... echoes in eternity." - Maximus, Gladiator

There comes a point in every journey where the shroud is lifted, the veil is torn, and life as it once was can no longer exist because it was not, in the truest sense, reality. This point of no return is oft benchmarked by moments or events that seem to separate the wheat from the chaff, the milk from the cream and has the uncanny ability to propel the story being told into new and exciting chapters where every turn of the page is unknown and the mystery being unraveled is embraced with childlike wonder. This catalytic experience is not simply satiated by change for change's sake but, through total transformation power, it morphs the narrative into something beautiful where pain becomes triumph, scars become diamonds, and failure is just a speed bump on the battle ridden road towards glory. There is power in catalytic transformation of the heart.

This is the story of my journey.

Welcome to The Braveheart Intensive.

The excursion to the center of one's own heart is not for the timid nor for the weak. Much like Frodo's pilgrimage into Mordor, the road ahead could and would prove to be treacherous and filled with snares and set backs but awakened to a new dawn and remembered with triumph and glory. On the eve of this expedition, I chose to rest-- in prayer, in solitude, in anticipation. The catalytic journey for my soul was about to start but at that moment I was poised with the posture of a sprinter in the starting blocks. Ready, but waiting. Intensely focused, but restful. My aspiration was that we who dared to dream would be propelled into the unknown of our own hearts and unleashed there by the Spirit of Him who dreamed us into existence. I was saturated in prayer hoping, waiting for the Lover of my Soul to spark within me something powerful.

It begins.

Silence. Reverence. Reflection.

Weighed down like Atlas with the world on his shoulders, the multitude of burdens were chained to my torso and drove my legs into the ground with each step I took. Within minutes, I was digging deep into the wounds that buried my strength within the soil of lies from years of misappropriated intimacy but slowly it was revealed, the one thing that I knew was always there, a scared little boy. But, it was time to lay these burdens down. The journey demanded it. No pilgrimage into the heart could be embarked upon without radical removal of these heavy chains.

The little boy would need to come with me. This was his story as well.

The culmination of the first day ended well with a celebratory cigar. The road was marked out before me and the real cultivation of my heart was about to begin... but the burdens were gone.

Come with me, scared little boy, let me show you a more excellent way. Let us journey into what is the truest part of our identity.

The Braveheart Intensive.

| composed by dave |

invisible

"A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers."

What a great way to start a story... well, maybe not for the guy who was attacked! This intro grabs ya, it draws you in. Immediately it makes me wonder-- why was he attacked? Was he being a jerk? Was this some type of hate crime? What did this guy do to deserve this? Was this just senseless violence or was there a motive?

We never find out. Instead, the story takes a turn to uncover an unlikely hero from the reject fringes of religious society... but that will not be my focus today. No, the hero will need to wait out his role as the main protagonist. Today, I want to examine the man who was attacked because "They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead." (Luke 4:30, NIV)

Have you ever felt like this poor guy? Can you identify with feeling attacked by people who want to steal from you? Maybe not in this sense where your personal possessions are being stolen. But rather, maybe you experience people who try to rob you of your joy or peace or privileges or rank or promotion. Does that resonate?

Have you ever felt like this poor guy? Have you ever felt nude and bare while fully dressed? I don't mean that someone is "stripping you with their eyes" but rather that someone has said something that leaves you feeling completely naked. Their words or actions deprived you of all decency and left you standing there alone in a crowd being scoffed at silently. As if everyone around you could see right through your garments and you felt ashamed and embarrassed as if you were completely unclothed? Have you ever felt that way?

Have you ever felt like this poor guy? Can you identify with feeling beaten down and bedraggled? Have you ever been worn out from the daily fight, bloodied by the weight of responsibility and exhausted with little to no energy left? As if this world were closing in on you and the pressure and demands of every day were crushing your feeble soul until you become a lump of flesh melting into the dirt like an ice cube on a 100 degree summer's day? Can you relate?

They went away. They left him for dead. He was about to take a dirt nap and become worm food. The vultures were already circling just waiting to tear into his warm and bloodied flesh.

This is the picture that Jesus is painting for his listeners. The real, physical torment that this traveler endured at the hands of his attackers resonates with us because while most of us have not been beaten to the point of being "half dead," we know what it is like to feel this way.

The story gets better.

People pass by him. They see him. The hear him.

Imagine this-- there he is probably groaning from pain, fading in and out of consciousness, and bleeding all over the dirt road, and people hear something odd then see someone about 20 yards ahead of them laying on the ground. What do you think their reaction would be? Stop and stare? Size up the situation and determine that it would be better to head back to the crossroad behind them to avoid this mess? Walk another 10 yards to get a closer look? What if he had just passed out? Would they poke him with a stick to see if he was... alive? Now, what would you do?

That is exactly what happens.

People walked around him. Passed by him. No one stopped.

It is as if he were invisible.

Don't stop. Don't help. Don't comfort. Don't care. Shame him. Mock him. Accuse him. Belittle him.

I have felt this way-- invisible. Who cares for the one who cares for others? Who encourages the encourager? Who supports the supporter? Who invests in the investor?

I know that the typical, churchy response is... "All you need is Jesus, brother." Really??? By that same logic, I guess I don't really need community with others then, do I? If that were really true then why are there 6 billion people on this planet? No, that's not true. We need each other. God created us that way.

Do we need God? Absolutely. Is Jesus all we need to be made in right standing with God? Absolutely. Is the Spirit of God more than enough for our soul to be quenched and drenched with the love of God? Absolutely. But God also designed this whole human existence as a family, a community. We are not supposed to do life alone.

No one is supposed to be invisible.

I felt this way today. It sucked. I had 20 people pass me by when I needed them most. No one stopped. Some jeered. Some mocked. But no one stopped. I hate feeling invisible.

Spirit of God, please empower us to see the invisible, over-looked, under-appreciated souls that you put in our lives so that they will feel the love of your Son, Jesus, emanating from Your Spirit alive within us. Give us the boldness to move out of our comfort to unleash us into the adventure of living Spirit-led and use us to see the invisible souls around us so that we can embrace them as family. Amen and amen.

| composed by dave |

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