compelled.

Sometimes placing one foot in front of the other day in and day out is the most fearless way to live. We do not achieve lives of greatness by seeking out adventure, by catapulting ourselves headlong into risk, cost uncounted. There is nothing wrong with risk. It is, in fact, required of us if we would live for the cause of Christ. There is nothing bad about adventure. On the contrary, if we live as we were designed to we will find ourselves immersed in an adventure of epic proportions. But we do not live for these things. Nor do we live for greatness, accomplishment or personal fulfillment. We live for Christ and in Christ and through Christ and because of Christ.

For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all and therefore all died. And he died for all that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for him who died for them and was raised again. (2 cor. 5:14-15)

I do not lie awake at night dreaming dreams for myself. I lie awake because my heart is heavy with the burden of mourning and the weight of joy. Because I see around me death yet I feel within me life and daily I desire more to find a way to bridge this disconnect.

So, one foot in front of the other. Slow and steady, pressing forward. One brick upon another to build a life of character and integrity. Piece by piece stripping away the trappings of success and expectation to learn the heart of servanthood, the humility of surrender. It is here in seeking God's face, in straining our ear to hear his voice, in inclining our lives toward Him that we find all our desires fulfilled in the most unlikely way.

For I have counted the cost and have determined that though the cost be greater than I can pay, it is worth more than I can give. I would rather "waste" the sum of my days on the name of Jesus than indulge them on the pleasures of this life.

I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation. We put no stumbling block in anyone's path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance, in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger, in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. (2 cor. 6:2b-10)

Love, at War.

Love knows well the art of war. (1)
It is the battle cry of armies, the weapon of warriors and the prize claimed in victory.

Love brings the sword of Truth, (2) and with it peace.(3) Slicing through the lies that have intricately woven themselves into the fabric of existence, it severs bone from marrow.(4) Truth, where it is realized, separates father from son.(5) He who stands in Truth cannot be at peace with he who will not stand in it. What do light and darkness have in common?(7) Truth divides because it must.

Love, you see, can find no delight in what is evil; but it clings to what is True.(6) Love necessarily shuns everything that is not Love, for they cannot co-exist. Where there is pure black, can there be pure white? Can two things share the exact same space? Can the positive and negative poles of a magnet not repel each other? Where there is evil, there is not Love. That which is not Love can have no part in Love.

Like a Samurai with the patience to train, to endure the tedious and difficult, to reject that which will not perfect in pursuit of what will attain victory, Love discriminates because it must. It cannot embrace all that it is not and still remain all that it is, for Love is Truth. It is the very essence of that which really is.(8)

And yet, in an ironic twist, Love longs to embrace all. It fights to remove evil so that purity might reign, because in purity there is unity and in unity there is peace.(9) Love longs for unity, it desires peace.(10) Unwilling that any should perish,(11) Love fights so that all might live.(12)

But those who would marshal themselves against Love, those who refuse to surrender will find themselves vanquished, for Justice is the demand of Love. What would Love be if it were not Just? And as we have seen, that which is not part of Love is against it and it is this we call evil. Who would argue that evil must not be punished? Who would say that those who have committed the atrocities of murder, of genocide, of child slavery and countless other evils ought not be punished, ought not receive Justice? Do we not all hope for Justice in some form?

By what standard can evil be judged and Justice administered? By Truth. We hold it as self evident that there is Truth, do we not?(13) We claim rights based on Truth, and violations of these rights fall under the domain of Justice.(14) Only fully resting in Truth can there be genuine Justice, and only where there is Justice can there be peace.

So, Love, in pursuit of Justice and under the banner of Truth, is waging a Just War of epic proportions. It spans the centuries of time. It is the war to end all wars. It is the war that will finally result in overarching, eternal peace. Until all humankind are enveloped in this peace that passes all understanding, the peace that emanates from Love, Love is at war.

(1) Certainly all we might term "war" is not born of genuine love. And yet the principle remains constant. We are speaking metaphorically here.
(2) For Christ did not come to bring immediate peace as man would understand peace. Matthew 10:34.
(3) But He came to provide the way to peace through Himself. John 16:33.
(4) And this sword of truth is the very Word of God. Hebrews 4:27.
(5) Matthew 10:35-38.
(6) I Corinthians 13:6.
(7) I John 1:6, 2 Corinthians 6:14-18.
(8) 1 John 4:8. Exodus 34:6. 2 Samuel 7:28. 2 John 1:3. John 14:6. Exodus 3:14.
(9) Colossians 3.
(10) Zechariah 8:19-23.
(11) 2 Peter 3:9.
(12) 2 Corinthians 5:14-21.
(13) "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Eights and that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." - The Declaration of Independence.
(14) Isaiah 59.

Jesus and Gravity

You know when people make that cliche' comment about muscles they didn't know they had being sore? I tried to find a better way to say that this weekend, but nada. Seriously, I think if you'd asked me yesterday I could have pointed specifically to every single one of the 640 muscles I have and said, "it hurts there." Although pointing might have been difficult considering half of those muscles had relegated themselves to a self-imposed time-out.

Why I initially thought it would be a good idea to bike with my dad's youth group (the lovely Fairfield Baptist of Centerville, TN. HOLLA!) across the state of Tennessee I'm not really sure. These things always sound awesome when they are not immediately imminent. I started out on track with my training. Found some new trails and bike paths in the Burg. All was well. Then I succeeded in busting up two bikes in rapid succession and finding myself in and out of sickness for three weeks. So much for training.

Honestly, I went this weekend thinking I might do one rotation and then just hang out, Tweet, and take a few pics. Unbeknownst to me, I got scheduled for three 15 mile rotations. I am SO out of shape, but when they call your name as "on deck," wimping out loses all appeal. I am not going to be the one who quits. And I'm wearing my padded bike shorts, so, game on.

There have been many times that I've pushed myself to a physical limit, that's not really anything impressive. But this time, there was something remarkably different about the experience. This wasn't about me or anyone else on the team. We were all riding for something bigger than us. There are people in Hickman County Tennessee who desperately need the love of Jesus, and this little group of teenagers had found a way to create a place where they could help create those conversations. Passion is contagious. And when you can sense the power of God through prayer fueling you, it's like being unstoppable. The road was rising up to meet us, and we were eating it up.

By the time I reached my final 15 mile rotation I was working on about 2 hours of sleep after 36 hours on the road and had 30 miles under my pedals (not really that awesome when you consider those guys who went up the Cumberland Plateau or logged over 100 miles). Thank the Lord He made West Tennessee more flat than the East. Every little hill was like torture. A couple times I literally thought that if I went any slower I'd probably fall right over.

10 miles through that third ride (shortly after I decided to liven things up with my wreck), when every muscle was screaming that there was nothing left to give, I had an epiphany. This is what it's like to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and STRENGTH. You can do things in life out of selfish motives, or because of the everlasting love of God that has captivated and consumed you.

Paul says "Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." (2 Cor. 9)

Loving God with all our strength doesn't necessarily mean something extreme. It does mean that we lay whatever we can accomplish physically at His feet. We are unafraid to sacrifice our mortal bodies, even unto death, because we know there's something bigger than this life. And let me tell you, it's amazing how when you love God with your strength, your heart, soul and mind start to align (and that works in any order!).

That became totally sealed in my my mind when at the end of the 15 miles I spotted the rest of the team cheering us to the finish from the top of a massive hill. My knee was bleeding and throbbing from my wreck and my body said I didn't have that last hill in me, but my heart said, "Almost home. None of that matters. Now I can see the end. Just finish. It's worth it." And it was.

I leave you with this...
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." (2 Cor. 4)

Something to tweet "home" about?

Some species of birds come back to the same nest year after year. They build their little birdy lives with mud and straw salvaged from the parking lot medians that vainly tried to protect new grass seed from hungry beaks. One day you go to remove the nest and realize that it's full of tiny grey, brown-speckled eggs. A few weeks later a chorus of chirps wakes you up on Saturday morning at sunrise. Finally, they learn to fly, it's almost winter and they all head further South to keep from being snowed in at the holidays. The next year Mom and Pop bird are back–sans baby tweets–and sticking new mud and straw on the nest to begin the whole lovely process over again.

I know this because a few days ago maintenance finally removed one such aviary couple out of the beams above our porch. I felt kind of bad just on principle for uprooting their lives. I mean, it will probably feel like a life crisis when they come back to Virginia in the Spring and find out they've been added to the list of displaced families. But then I realized that I have a really difficult time identifying with that somewhat obnoxious bird couple, not just because I don't generally eat worms or sit on eggs, but because the idea of keeping a nest in one place hasn't really been on my radar screen.

It's looking like I'm probably slated for a few more engagements with UHaul before I kick the proverbial bucket and find a more permanent place to plant myself (at Polk Memorial Garden's via Williams Funeral Home in Columbia, TN...Lauren, you can give me my kickback later :). Like it or not, every two years I start to get restless.

What I'm realizing lately is that the more I try to settle down into one idea of home, one identity, one life-goal to navigate the oceans of life by, the more I think the only constant might be the wanderlust. There are so many places to go, so many people to love and so many things to be accomplished, how can I possibly stay still?

But it's more than that. I don't seem to need to go out and chase down adventure. I don't have to run for the sake of running. As I keep my eye to the sky in daily life, always asking of each situation presented to me, "How does this factor in? How can I, right now, contribute to making something great happen here?" I find that my knowledge, skills, relationships and possibilities are expanding. I'm going places I've been seeing on the news and meeting people I used to read about in books. Why would I even WANT to tame that jungle of experience down into a manageable botanical garden?

I may wake up tomorrow to find my nest of mud and straw has been disassembled and I'm forced to move on. Guess I'd probably cry a little at first, but hey, the view from the new rafters will probably be even better.

crazy little thing called love/life.

It's like being exquisitely, painfully, passionately, exhiliratingly in love. The kind of love that makes your cheeks glow like they've been out in the crisp air of early winter and your eyes sparkle like moonlight on the ocean waves. Laughter bubbles up because it can't be contained, songs burst forth because there is so much to sing about and tears fall freely because they are unafraid. That is how I feel about my life.

Many genuinely difficult things are present in my life, so many challenges for which I am certain to be inadequate, and so many things that could make me want to quit. But there has never been such a wealth of life before me either. On one hand life is like being deep in the trenches of battle, but on the other I fight with the absolute knowledge that the outcome of the war swings in my favor. Difficulty becomes easy.

There is nothing about my life that I would change, and yet nothing that I am afraid to let go of. Do not mistake this for flippancy, or a false sense of detachment. I know well the measure of sacrifice already asked. I cannot pretend to know the breadth to which this will extend. But this depth of joy flows from learning to surrender. Though I may resist at first, by His grace the letting go will continue.

I have never been so at rest in who I am. Certainly it has taken me a while to see carved out before me an identity which I can begin to understand as my own. And I have no doubt that this will continue to be forged and refined. But I know myself in ways I could not have without taking the journey so far. More importantly, I know more deeply the God who created me. All that I am is at His mercy. For me there is no surviving apart from Him.

An abundance of amazing people overflow in my life. People who know how to embrace life and invite others to do the same. People who love others deeply and selflessly not because they are perfect, but because they too are being transformed by the unconquerable love of God. And people who are unafraid of raw, honest failure, vulnerability or transparency because they know that life is sometimes leaping, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling and a whole, whole lot of falling.

The possibilities of what can be are breathtaking. It's driving down a road you've never explored before. It's holding a new baby for the first time. I have no time to cling to what has been, no energy to waste on regrets, only the power to look what is right now in the eye and embrace it for all that it is. I love every second, and yet I still can't wait for this Earth part to be over so the real fun can begin on the other side!

In Honor of Ancestor Appreciation Day

Thank you St. Gervasius the Martyr of Milan for the incredible last name.

Thank you Gervasi family for imparting your tendency toward Sicilian blood vendettas (I'm still hoping to find those Mafia ties).

Thank you Crawfords for William Wallace and passing on the Scottish spirit that knows how to fight for a cause worth dying for.

Thanks to the Cherokee for ensuring that I would always be in love with the mountains, and thank you for putting Tennessee in my blood early on.

Thank you Jesse James for imparting a little of your outlaw spirit.

Thank you to my Irish kin who graciously passed on your Irish temper, fair skin and red hair.

Thanks Bishop family for being smart enough to lighten things up with a little Puerto Rican.

Thank you family members for your sacrifice at Gettysburg (Can I hear a Rebel Yell?), in the American Revolution and at Pearl Harbor.


Basically, I think I can sum this all up by saying, I'm seeing a definite trend....So thanks all of you for passing along the Rebel Blood. I'll try to serve it well.

Autumn: a million beautiful deaths.

This is the first time I've sat in real solitude and silence in several days. I have not wanted to be alone with my own soul. Nor have I been ready to. Sometimes I like to pretend that I am hard, that things don't get to me, that I am not terribly frightened by the idea of weathering certain storms on my own. I get angry, and the anger insulates me. But anger doesn't just insulate from pain, it insulates from joy as well.

From the soil of sorrow grows the poet's soul. We must drink deeply of the cup of sorrow. Sorrow sharpens our senses. It makes us aware of the brokenness around us. It helps us understand joy. Sinking into the realization of how broken we are produces an inevitable sense of grace. Oh how we need to live with our fingertips lightly on the pulse of sorrow! How easily I grow hardened to the heartbreak of others when I am wrapped up in my self-sufficiency and the pressure to mark things off my to-do list. Nothing quite accomplishes the rekindling of sensitivity like an Autumn of the Soul.

We cannot always live in summer. The temptation is to wish we could. Summer is easy and fun. It delights us with its warmth and adventure, with its freedom and possibilities. Summer reels with pleasure, but eventually our capacity to enjoy the benefits of summer wanes. Summer feels like perfection. Like the way we instinctively know things are supposed to be. That's why we love it, why we long for it. But nothing in this present world is perfect. Life cannot be wonderfully alive and green all of the time. If it were we'd dull to the radiance of the green and lose out on the glory of every other color.

When I think of autumn I think of brilliant reds and oranges, and I think of rain. I think of crisp air and pumpkin spice lattes, and I think of funeral scenes in movies with powerful cinematography. The really good funeral scenes, the ones that make your heart ache with the characters, are always on a rainy day in autumn. Really, when I think of autumn I think of a the agony of death and the deep, warm things that bring real comfort. The truth is that we cannot know life without understanding death.

Around me in nature I see the edges of autumn creeping up on the fraying leaves of summer. Soon the Blue Ridge Mountains will be gloriously at the epoch of a million deaths, just as they are every year. The days are growing shorter, and the nights longer. Everything moves in its cycle propelling us back into the heart of winter where summer is a memory and spring a hope.

I feel the million little deaths inside me too. Not just one thing is dying, but many. It will be a long, cold winter. I feel the edges of sorrow about to burst into flaming color. And I fight the urge to run to a place where there are no seasons but summer, where I won't have to watch those tiny corpses fall to the earth of my life. I won't run. I won't. If for no other reason than that I know this: every leaf that falls from the tree enriches the soil. It nourishes the tree so its blooms will be bountiful and fragrant in the spring and its branches will spread wide and welcoming in the summer.

The sorrow may last for the night, joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30). His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3), and those who mourn are blessed because they alone understand what it means to be comforted (Matthew 5).

After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you. Ipsi imperium in saecula saeculorum (To Him belongs the power to command in the present and forever). Amen. ~ 1 Peter 5:10-11