When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

I just have a few thoughts… and I promise I’ll keep this short.

Judge Dredd

Judgment is a strange thing, although most people probably do not think so or even second guess “justice” and “judgment” at all. In fact, most people live their entire lives engulfed in a “legal system” because that is all they know. Growing up in America, we are very familiar with courts, judges, judgments and verdicts. You are either guilty or you are innocent. There is right and there is wrong, and you either broke the law or you did not. There is very little middle ground, good and evil are very black and white – and you have evildoers and good people. Lines are drawn, stereotypes and archetypes are created, and we live in that world view. We try and get rid of the bad people… the people who might harm us or others, the dangerous, the broken, the misunderstood.

Occasionally there is discussion about why laws are broken, why people make bad decisions or why they are bad people and what might have effected/caused this. Usually though, this is only the case for mentally unstable people or children/teenagers who we assume do not have the capacity to make sound judgments, therefor it is their parents fault for their actions or they are a product of their surroundings (poverty, ignorance/non-educated, abuse, etc). But perhaps, I would argue, we do not do this enough… make excuses that is. Maybe we are all a little mentally unstable – depends on who you ask, I suppose.

I would argue that for any and all actions, good or bad, committed by humans, there is a reason why they decided (if they even had the ability to decide, which is a whole nother post altogether) to do that action, and if we had infinite knowledge, as God does, we could pinpoint exactly the reason why someone did something, acted in such and such a way, or gave in to their emotions/passions/temptations, and there would be justification – wouldn’t there?

Think of it this way…I would argue that what some people think is good, could actually be bad. What appears moral to a majority, may actually be destructive/evil/bad in God’s perfectly wise/all knowing eyes… how can we know?

The Box Model

I was once taught that we live in a box, and all we know is this box. It is our world view. Every experience we have had in our life is a part of this box, or inside of this box, and we understand the world around us through this lens, or through these experiences, or inside of this box. This is my box: I am a white, male who has lived in California and Oregon, who has been to a few countries but not all, who only speaks one language, who has read a few books, who has listened to a very small percentage of all the music that has ever existed, who is heterosexual, married, and has two girls, who has allergies but has never needed glasses… you see where I am going? If you step back far enough, I have a very limited understanding of the world and all that is in it – in other words, I have no idea what is is like to be a teenage girl in china, living in poverty in the country-side, who only has a mother because her father died at an early age. I can barely even imagine what that would be like, and when I try to imagine it – I have to admit even in my imagination I am piecing together things I know – so my imagination falls short of what it is actually like to live in china, speak chinese, be a female, etc. On the other hand, I have a limited understanding of what it is like to be my wife, someone who I share a lot of similarities with, but who – if you looked at our lives thus far, have gone through very different experiences and are learning that we look at the same things very differently for that very reason.

I say all this to raise the question…. how can I judge what I don’t understand? How can I understand what I have not experienced in some way? How can I really know who is guilty, and why?

Will there be a judgment day?

I fully believe in a judgment day, that we will all stand before God, and he will be judge. But in the presence of an all-knowing God, who sees all and understands all then God will judge us perfectly, and what I believe, is that in perfect judgment, there is perfect justification. Perhaps justification is the wrong word. I like, perfect understanding, more. Because when you understand WHY someone did something, or what may have caused them to act in such a way, there is more room for forgiveness. If you stand back far enough, you will see that we are sheep, we are tiny little beings who live so large and think we know so much, but what we don’t understand is how much we don’t understand, and we start to think we can blame people for their actions – when in reality, we are ALL sinners, we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, we are ALL in the same boat, we all don’t understand what we do or why we do it (as Jesus so graciously pointed out on the cross – “forgive them, for the know not what they do”) and one day we will see that God has saved us all… God is saving us all… God is understanding our shortcomings, our evilness, our selfishness, our greed and our lust, our addictions and inabilities… God can be blamed for all those things, I mean, he made us, right? I mean, that is the story of Jesus, is it not? He took upon himself, the sins of us all…he took the blame. He’s big enough for that, he get’s it, he sees the big picture, the grand scheme. The whole free will thing… in order to be free, we had to be able to choose… but choice is a bit of an illusion, because although in each decision we can decide whether to go left or go right or not go anywhere at all… our decision is influenced in invisible, hidden, unknowable ways we will never see or comprehend, but in which God fully sees the strings attached to each decision and is able to judge based on the merit of those strings, based on our experiences and the cards that have been dealt to us.

So a few words might be rolling around in your mouth right now… let me tackle two things here: Predestination and Relativism.

PREDESTINATION

I don’t think this means things are predestined, or we don’t have any free will or choice. Hmm… no. There is a difference between planned and calculated. In other words, did God intend when he created the world for one day there to be a man named Hitler who would kill millions of God’s chosen people? No way. But in God’s chaotic / perfect yet flawed creation, there is the formula for things like that to happen… it can be calculated that it would happen, and so… I blame God. But I think God blames God too… hence, the story of Jesus, paying the price for all this sin stuff… taking it upon himself, and setting us free from the guilt and the judgment while at the same time showing us a better way to live then just in the perpetual cycle of sin, and all the while, he is forgiving, healing, restoring, renewing, saying “I understand.  My yoke (my way, my teachings) are easy.  Come and rest.  It’s ok.  We’re all fucked up.”

RELATIVISM

Is this all relativism? Sure… it’s all relative – if we witness a father hitting his child, is that wrong? evil? I think it is… no matter what the child has done, a father/parent should NEVER hit their child. But to some other people, they do not see it that way. They see this as a loving way to discipline their child, to show disapproval and consequence. In fact, in their “heart” (wherever that is) they may have perfectly justifiable love pushing them to do so… so who is right? Me or them? I think in the sense of “right” and “wrong” – I am right. In light of what I know, God is leading us to the “Kingdom of God” – a place of peace and forgiveness, where love trumps all forms of violence – so not hitting your child is how God wants us to live, in my opinion. But I still think that God would not judge this person any different then he would judge me – because the father that hits their child out of love, well that’s all he knows. in his box world, love = tough love. He would have a hard time seeing it any other way, if that’s what he learned from his father, and his friends, and his neighbors, and his countrymen.  And so, even if the father did it out of laziness, bitterness, frustration and anger… what if he knows no way out, no alternative?  Why if he’s a slave to his emotions, his anger – and he knows he’s wrong but he hits his child anyway?  What if he IS guilty?

What would be truly evil, is a God that knows EVERYTHING, sees EVERYTHING – every detail, every event, every word, every story – and yet judges a person anyway knowing that it’s not their fault, but based on events and “facts”, labels them guilty. Did the guy who killed his wife choose to pull the trigger? In most cases yes, and everything I am saying here does not take away from the fact that this IS evil, and wrong, and awful and terrible and all that… but, in the sense of judgment, heaven and hell and all that, I think you have to step back… keep stepping back… further… and look at how pathetic we all are?  We are all out of control… we are all one car accident away from losing control… we are so fragile… we are so broken.

I could be wrong…

I know that. I probably am. But this is where I am at and the conclusions I have come to.  It could be heresy… probably is.  Sorry.

Convince me otherwise. Do you have a different version of the story? I’d love to hear it. This is not a castle I have built and will defend it to the death… I am looking at fractals (again, look it up ^_^) and trying to understand what I see…how it all could be. I’m trying to paint a picture but I am not much of an artist, so add your strokes… fill in the gaps… help me see what I am missing. Seriously. If you disagree… I’d love to know why. If you’ve read this far, you obviously care about what I just said… so say something. Even if it’s just, “Jim, you’re wrong.” fine. I’d love to not live in a silent room with me shouting at the walls waiting for a response… help me out and fill this void.

Apology

Ok… in no way was that short, I apologize.  Thank you for reading.

(The pictures in this post, most of the time, have little to nothing to do with what is being said around them… they are here to fill the gaps and to give you a glimpse into our life in Oregon… enjoy!)

The photo to the left was the first taken on Oregon soil.  We were, indeed, all smiles.  Leaving California was hard because of all of our great friends, and all of the youth group kids we were leaving behind from the church I worked at.  But Oregon was a breath of fresh air, literally.

Robin had nailed down a teaching job at a Jr. High and we were able to find a condo semi-near the city and semi-near her work.  Our dear friends, Danny and Andy Richards, helped us with the move.  Danny is a fireman (and ex-mover) who packs a U-Haul like it’s nobody’s business, and we are eternally indebted to him for all that he did in getting us here.  The man’s a beast… seriously.  He taught me a lot about being prepared on long trips, packing, and how duct tape can pretty much fix anything (although sometimes you need plastic ties).  Anyway, we finally made to Oregon with the help of Maggie (our new navigational system that would be invaluable during the first months here… Portland’s a tough place to navigate at first!) and after a few wrong turns in some sketchy neighborhoods, we were turning into our little mountainside (more like hillside) community of condos: Red-Tail Canyon… err, something like that.  It was… ok.  We were just so happy to be in Oregon and to begin exploring Portland!  The Condo was nice, it seemed peaceful, and the best part was – there was a forest behind it!  Literally, out our back door… it felt SO different from California, and that felt SO good.

Looking back on those first few months in Oregon, it feels almost surreal.  It wasn’t long until Fall set in and the leaves changed colors and began to fall and blanket the parks and streets with a thick layer of magical orange, yellow, and reds.  I will always have a thick memory in my head of that first Fall in Oregon.  So many life altering things happened.

Finding God, Again

The first and probably most substantial, was that we found a church to go to.  When we first got up here, we (well, I should say, I) were in no hurry to go to Church.  I have to admit, it was nice to actually just sit around on Sunday morning with family and rest.  I needed that.  But after about three or four weeks, it was time to find a church community.  We tried Imago Dei first because, well, why not.  Donald Miller and his writings were a huge factor in us coming up here (for me at least) and he went to Imago Dei, so might as well try it out right?  Actually, Robin went alone one week and said it was ok, not great, but ok – so I came with the following week and we tried it together.

I think we left early.

(top right clockwise: Amalea at the park, Amalea with Ron’s sunglasses in Bend, Daddy and Ami on the bike, Happy Valley Park)

I don’t know… it wasn’t bad – but it just felt too similar.  You know.  You walk in, everyone is sitting in theater seating facing a big stage up front where a super hip band was playing old hymns in a super hip way and mixing in some modern worship songs… then a series of people make their way to the stage, get the mic, and share their shpeel about what the church is all about, how much they are doing in the community, upcoming events, yada yada. As it happens, I think we showed up on a Sunday where the regular Pastor wasn’t even speaking… and after about 40 minutes I was ready to leave.  Not to mention we got called into the kids room because Amalea pooped majorly and had a rash.  I think that was God telling us, get the hell out. Now.  So we did. We went home.

I was a little disappointed.  As far as I knew, that was suppose to be the “Emergent” church in Portland… and I couldn’t imagine there were any more progressive churches out there.  I mean, Oregon, it’s 99% conservative / evangelical / white churches… and this was my 1% and it felt, well, stale.  I was really bummed.  Part of the reason to come to Oregon was to hopefully find a church community who were thinking outside of the box and where spiritual formation and exploration were encouraged, not looked down on.

So we went home and opened up our “Moving to Portland” book, thumbed to the “Emergent Churches” section, and looked down the list of three… yep, three… churches.  Imago Dei.  Check.  Evergreen?  Let’s check the website.  Hmm…. promising.  They meet in a pub?  For sure.  And so we decided to check it out.

(top right clockwise: Amalea and her pumpkin, Robin and Ami at the patch, Oregon Skies x2)

Evergreen Community

The minute we walked into The Lucky Lab Pub (a.k.a Evergreen Community – on Sundays) I knew we were suppose to be there.  It just felt right.  And I don’t mean that a big sun beam shown down on us when we walked in, or I got all tingly and warm, or even that I heard God’s Spirit telling me this was it… no, not really.  I mean, we walked in, we walked three or four steps, assessed the situation, and immediately two people were standing there greeting us, welcoming us, explaining Evergreen to us.  And it wasn’t… you know, “church greeters”.  Here was this young kid, Clay, and this middle age man, Chip, shaking our hands and asking us about who we were.  It didn’t feel fake.  It didn’t feel forced.  It felt right… it felt like these were people who really cared about this couple and their kid who probably look totally uncomfortable and scared.  It was brilliant.  And we fit right in.

(Left to Right: Amalea watching me “do my best” on my mom’s accordion, Ami and me on the Scooter)

It wasn’t long until we attended our first community dinner, where everyone in the community (go to their website if you want to learn more about Evergreen… if you don’t already go there ^_~) brings some food and just hangs out.  In October, we went to the pumpkin patch with the church… and we slowly began to make friends. I could go on and on about Evergreen… but that’s another story for another day (or at least, further down this post).

To work, or, to WORK

I thought I worked pretty hard when I was a youth pastor.  The days were pretty long and it could get exhausting at times.  But NOTHING could prepare me, and NOTHING compares, to being a full-time parent.  When we first got to Oregon, I did not have a job.  And so I stayed home with Amalea and took care of her, the best I could.  I don’t regret it, it was what I needed.  Time with my first daughter.  Time to explore Portland.  Time to enjoy life again.  But it was very hard.  Some of you will know what I mean (I know you do, Robin) when I say that one of the hardest things to do in life, is stop working when you are so used to having a job.  I got my first job when I was 18 – and pretty much worked up until last year when we moved up here.  To all of the sudden stop working, it’s a weird feeling.  Sure, being a parent is a job, and a full-time no rest EVER job… but it’s different.  It’s exhausting.  It’s ungratifying (or at least it’s a different type of gratification).  And it forces you, to think and think and think and think and think.  Because the minutes drag on… and you sing Itsy-Bitsy ten thousand times, and your constantly entertaining – but it feels like you’re alone, and it feels like all you can do is think, and think, and think.  And in the end, you overthink things, you become depressed and lonely, or at least you think you are because you’ve thought about it so much.  In this case, I began to seriously miss everyone from California, and second guess the move up here.  This was looking harder than I thought – and I needed to figure out what I was going to do… for a career!

When we first got up here, I interviewed for a job at an after-school program at this Catholic school in NW Portland.  I pretty much got the job, but backed out at the last minute.  I don’t know… I just had a BAD feeling about it.  It barely paid anything, was going to be SUPER stressful, a lot of work, and I would be away from my family more than I wanted to be.  Not to mention it sort of conflicted with Robin’s school schedule, and we hadn’t thought about day-care.

(Left to Right: Ami and me at the Zoo in the fall, Winter Snow Storm!)

Little did we know at the time, but just down the street from our Condo was a place called Portland Wiz Kids.  I kept driving by it, and finally I decided I would check out their website.  Actually, I think it was that Robin had heard they were hiring after-school teachers to teach computer classes.  I was all about that.  So I checked it out.  Turns out they had a day-care, right there at the facility down the street from our place, and I could leave Amalea there while I taught these classes.  It wasn’t much, but the pay was decent and it seemed like fun.  So I did it.

I taught computer programming to Jr. High kids in Lake Oswego.  It was… well, it was fun.  Remember what I said about always remembering that first fall in Oregon – well teaching these classes was a big part of that.  I’d drop Amalea off around 1 in the afternoon, and drive the 45 min – 1 hour to Lake Oswego, through the changing leaves of autumn, catching glimpses of Mt. Hood in all it’s glory along the way, occasionally (ok, often) wading my way through the rain, dragging a carton of laptops to teach kids programming using animation software.  It was great.  And Amalea LOVED day-care.  She got to play with babies and the adults while I was working, and then Robin would come and pick her up.  We did this all Fall and part of Winter.  But in January, after a crazy December of taking on additional classes – including a Lego Robotics class that was the equivalent of trying to create peace in the middle east – anyway, in January I started a new job: web design.

And now… my new life.

Synotac web design.  I think they were third or fourth in the google results for “Portland Web Design”.  I clicked a bunch of them to see what their sites looked like.  I had been tinkering with web design since High School, and I figured it was something I liked doing, thought I did well, and figured it was a worth a try.  Synotac’s site looked pretty good… so I contacted them, sent them my portfolio link, and waited.  Not too long after that, I got a reply from the President, Cameron Madill.  He said that one of their employees checked out my site and thought it looked really good, and we should chat.  He said, although they were not hiring, they might have some contract work in the near future, and it would be good to see if I was a good fit for that.

(Left to Right: Ami at Canon Beach, Ami feeding the ducks)

I met Cameron at Stumptown Coffee (my first time going to coffee downtown).  He came across as an intelligent entrepreneur who knew what he was talking about and liked my style.  He also liked Soccer… a big plus.  Anyway, we met and talked web stuff, and then he took my up to the office and introduced me to the staff.  I still remember walking into our downtown office loft and marveling that people worked at such a cool place.  I also remember feeling really awkward – I’ve never had a REAL web design job before, let alone a REAL job in general!  But I put on my best business face and played the part.  It was about a month later that Cameron called and said they had some work for me… so I went in, and did my best.

That was January of this year… by about March, I got a raise.  By about May they brought me on part time – 28 hours a week.  By June, I was full-time.  Now I am a vital organ in the beating heart that is Synotac Web Design… working 40+ hours a week, and diving head first into the web world.

Did I mention I work FULL-FREAKING-TIME now?  Yes, it’s not my first full-time job. Yes, I was a Youth Pastor.  But I can’t begin to explain to you the differences… being a Youth Pastor is like being a freelancer… a contract worker.  You basically make your own hours (except for when you have services of course, or trips)… you work when it’s convenient, and if something comes up – especially family stuff – it’s expected you go and be present.  Take care of yourself and your family FIRST, then the job.  Not in the big world my friend – not in the big f’ed up world.

Well – hold on. To be fair, Synotac is not QUITE a FULL-FREAKING-TIME job like some people have.  The Madills’ (the family who started Synotac, Cameron, the president, Bill, Cameron’s dad, the co-owner, and Cat, Cameron’s sister, Bill’s daughter, fellow programmer) are SUPER awesome and chill, and they run their company with a similar mentality as the church – if you, the employee, are not doing well – the company is not doing well.  So take care of yourself and your family.  And they have been super great about being flexible with me, especially when Maya was born about a month ago and since then (because I’ve been super tired and things have come up).

(Left to Right: Ami and me in the snow, Woodstock Park)

So, I’m not complaining in the least… I’m just trying to emphasize that things are… well, normal.  I am the husband and I work this full-time job where I am gone a good chunk of the day.  Robin is the stay-at-home mom who is slowly going crazy because she has a two-year-old and a new baby to watch after, and a husband that is barely present (that’s not fair to myself… I am VERY present, when I am here…).  It’s that traditional family model – and we were never the traditional family model… and it’s hard.

Life, right now, for the past year, has been… hard.  SUPER hard.  Harder than it ever has been.  Having a kid is hard enough.  Having a kid, quitting both your jobs, moving to a brand new place where you know NO ONE, starting new jobs, making new friends, and then having ANOTHER kid… that’s just crazy-talk.  But we’re doing it.  We made the choice to come up here… in our heads, we burnt the ships and we are not going back (I say in our heads, because we actually still own our house in California and we COULD move back if we wanted to).

So has it been worth it.  Is it worth it?  Will we stay?

Yes. and Yes.

(It’s official)

There are moments, when I remember the freedom and the gratification of my old life… that I want to go back.  There are dark clouds and sleepless nights full of tears.  There are fights and misunderstandings.  There is a tired I have never known before now.  There are new responsibilities and a career/life I never thought I’d fall into… There is a loop of pictures on our computer from Youth Trips that brings tears to my eyes, that makes me laugh, that makes me believe SO strongly in love and God and why I got into Youth Ministry…

… and yet, we belong here.

(Left to Right: Ami and me – stuck in the van after running out of gas on the way to day-care, Erin McGee and Ami at Sauve Island Farm)

We belong here.

Surrounded by kids who loved us – we felt alone in California.  Surrounded by a church who supported us, I felt out of place.

When something isn’t right, and you feel it, you have to fix it.

I had to get away.  I had to leave those streets and that life-style.  Our kids need to be raised in the trees… in the rivers and mountains of Oregon.  Robin and I need a community of people our age who are having kids and struggeling through similar things.  I need to experience the world, as it really is, on the streets – so to speak – to taste the pain of waking up early every morning and marching off to work to pay the bills, to feed my family, to give life to my kids.  I am beginning, just beginning, to understand what it means to be a father… to be a husband… to be a man who FOLLOWS God into the dark holding tight to HOPE and LOVE and that is all.  Robin and I need to struggle through our shit, and find each other again.  We need to let go of comfort and find that in the struggle, in the tension, and in the sacrifice, there is a substance that is like NOTHING else on this green planet… there is LIFE like no reality show can depict… there is LOVE so deep and rich and pure that it can not be explained or touched or even felt, it just IS.  And all of this comes… here, in this new strange foreign place.  Oregon, it is our home now.  And this is our life now.

(Amalea on her first big-girl camping trip!  And our first camping trip, in general, in Oregon!)

It will not always be this way – me working full time doing web design, Robin staying at home.  She will go back to teach, and I may get into teaching someday as well… but for now, we are raising our babies, we are living in community, we are sharing the well, we are growing in who we are and in our marriage, we are learning how to be better friends, lovers, and children of God and children of this world.

We have so far to go… and yet, for the first time in a long time, I feel like we are where we are suppose to be, and that is spectacular.

(Maya Louise Krill – Green is DEFINITELY her color, just like her daddy!)

It was a strange experience.  Not bad – I’m used to being around the poor.  It’s not shocking to me.  Well, it’s shocking, but not like most people think where they feel uncomfortable or threatened or something.  It was strange because for so long that was part of my job – serving.  And now, here I was and I felt like an outsider.

I know that doesn’t make any sense… but it’s what i was feeling.  As some of the more “local” evergreeners would come and tell me what to do and how things normally went, I thought, this is weird.  But it was kind of nice just being there… not being in charge of anything, just being able to help where I could and stand back and watch.  I’m totally a watcher.  And I couldn’t help but ponder these people’s situations.  Their lives and how they ended up like this.  So here are my observations:

1. They were ALL men.  Ok, so I think I saw three women, out of at least a couple hundred.  What this means I’m not really sure… there is something to say that the MAJORITY of homeless there tonight, were men.

2. Most of them were mentally not all there.  Sure there were some who seemed fairly together and just are probably out of work, or have some hard stuff they are dealing with – but a majority of them seemed to be very flighty, confrontational, and a little coocoo.

3. It’s freakin’ cold in Portland… and to be homeless, f***.  Seriously this is what I don’t understand and what makes me the most sad about these people’s prediciment.  It’s like 40 maybe even 30 degrees out… and I’m sitting for a train for five minutes, with gloves and a nice jacket, and I’m freezing my ass off, and I’m thinking about the couple hundred people who – sure – had a nice hot meal, and then hit the frozen street.  Someone should buy all of them one way tickets to Santa Monica, CA.

4. Church people stand out like a sore thumb.  Always trying to help, looking for ways to serve, always looking just a little uncomfortable.  Especially the college aged church kids… who feel compelled to “serve the poor” but the poor actually kind of freak them out a little bit.  I have to admit, I didn’t see that AS much here in Portland with Evergreen… but aint it the truth.

5. What is hope?  Or maybe the better question is – what should I be hoping in?  For most of these folks, they will be filing through this dinner line until the day they die.  They need this mission to sustain them until it’s their time to go.  They are so far gone from reality and from society that it’s not hard to say that these people will never assimilate back into society.  They’ve chosen this lifestyle, it fits them, their ok with it, and they are not looking to get off the streets.  Some want to, but let’s be honest – they can’t.  Be it mental or just a complete lack of motivation – they are stuck for good.  So what do I hope for?  There is no Jesus to come and touch the sick or crippled and bring them back into the inner circle of the healthy.  Not to say God isn’t looking after these folks… or that we can’t be Jesus to these folks and be there to love them, feed them, clean up after them… but come on – what can we do for them?  In the end, I think of Jesus’ words: The poor will always be among you.  It’s so flippant.  It’s like… a facts a fact.  And this is the way it is.  Not to say ignore it, or sweep it under the rug… but don’t become so starry eyed in “serving” that you lose sight of the fact that this is how it will always be… until God’s Kingdom is here on earth – this is how it is going to be.  And there will always need to be people who give up a little of their freedom to sustain the poor… the lost… those who took a few wrong turns, or maybe they really fucked up… but they really need some help.  And they may not be grateful in the least… but if you’re going to be like Jesus – you feed the complainers and then watch them leave – and when they come back and ask you to heal them, you grab their shoulders, look them in the eye, and say “Your faith has healed you”.  Hmm….

The truth is, now that I don’t work in a church, and don’t have to think of Christmas, I haven’t.  I guess that is pretty sad… I mean, I feel bad about it.

But I guess this year it just hasn’t been something that I feel the need to really think about.  I feel like that guy whom every church preaches to – who get’s caught up in all the hoop-la that he forgets the REAL meaning of Christmas.  Well I would probably agree except I’m not really into the “hoop-la”

I don’t go shopping
In fact I try and avoid the malls and shops all together if I can.  Gifts?  Amazon.com

I’m not into decorations
Robin and I put up minimal decorations this year.  No house to deck with lights.  No big tree to adorn with all the fancies.  Just a few strands of colorful bulbs strung across our living room, some Christmas cards on the wall, and a few nick-nacks here and there.

We don’t “play Santa”
Although I know Robin is into the whole Santa thing for Amalea, and thus I have to be, I really don’t care.  I’m not trying to be apathetic or no fun… but come on, talk about the source of materialistic powder-fluff ying yang potty stupidness in the whole world.  People just want to feel nostalgia – and I guess there is nothing wrong with that… but what a waste of energy.  Eventually you learn he was made up by your parents, and then you spend the rest of your adult life trying to conjure up the Christmas feeling you got when you were a kid – to no avail.

We have very little traditions
Which actually makes me sad.  We learned very early in our marriage that we should have traditions… that we should continue some family traditions and start new ones.  Well… we make waffles and bacon on Christmas morning – that’s about it.  I mean… perhaps it just has not been long enough to call the things we do traditions, and eventually it will feel like it.  For instance, we’ll probably go to church on Christmas eve – because we always have.  To me, not really tradition.  But to our kids one day… it will probably seem that way.

So… not really being tied up with all the “extras” of Christmas – what is my excuse for not thinking about it?

I don’t know.

Every year I feel like Christmas day comes faster and faster, and the “season” gets shorter and shorter.

And Jesus?  Well… I’m trying to find that special “reason for the season” feeling my mom was always in to – but the Christmas story, to me, although it is important – is not so important that you have to make Christmas the one day a year you go to church.  And not so important that you have to continue writing really bad songs about Jesus’ birth, or stories, or plays for that matter.  The birth of a savior – someone who would rescue us from our selfish existences – is important, very.  But I don’t know… the story of the virgin Mary and the angels and the wise men and the shepherds and all that… well – I’m trying.  I’m trying not to be cynical of it all… don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus.  He’s my hero, and for those who understand, my God.  But i’m really sick of the Christmas story.  Perhaps, like the Christmas story itself, God will show up somewhere unexpected for me this Christmas, and remind me how much I need him, and others… and less of myself.

Merry Christmas everyone… ^_^

www.evergreenlife.org

The first song is actually pretty funny.  It’s one of my own songs, from a long long time ago, that I actually totally forget about until I was listening to my ipod and it came on random all of the sudden.  Apparently I had burned it onto a cd I had made of another band, I had put a bunch of my songs on the end of this cd and forgot about them.  I’ve included it here for you to listen to (at my expense) – so please don’t laugh of judge my current song writing abilities by this work ^_^

I just think it’s funny that young Jim is speaking to old Jim about faith.  Interesting.

The second is a brand new song from Lovelite, my friend Matt Castle’s worship band.  They just came out with a new album (or I should say, are coming out with a new album soon) and the first track off that album is the first religious song in a LONG time that I’ve really related to and has give me chills (a great song will do that).  Here it is to listen to, but I encourage you to head over to their (newly designed) website, and buy the cd when it comes out.  I’m sure you will be able to find it on iTunes soon.

So it’s time to start being honest again.  Although I am wiser these days, more concerned now than I was before with trying to not hurt people’s feelings, it’s time to be brutally honest with myself and the thoughts I have on the world around me.  So… here goes, sort of.

Here is a journal entry from October 31st, 2006.  Nearly two years ago.  Things were so different then, yet, somehow as I read this – it reminds me why I am where I am today.  For those who know me best, or think they do – this might be very insightful. Let’s see, this entry comes about 10 months into full-time youth ministry (with junior highers), on the brink of coaching frosh-soph soccer at Agoura High School, and a year before Amalea was born.  Enjoy!

——– 10/31/2006 ———

there must be something beyond all of this
i’m a broken man in need of a good fix
i feel this ship sinking, slowly
as if not felt at all, and always wondering if the water
seems to be rising… or if that’s the way it always has been
i’m feeling rather ashamed
to be given so much, a blessed life
and to have done so little
i still have time, i still have some energy
i can still do something
but what?
some would say i have a noble job, and am affecting kids lives
causing change…
i’m not sure sometimes.
i suppose I believe that the kids lives are different because i am apart of them
but that is true of everyone that they know and come into contact with
so how am i different?
am i?
i could just change my attitude, be ok with my current situation
my current efforts
my current successes…successes?
that’s just not me.  It’s not an attitude… as if I just am negative about life… something is out of line… something has shifted…something’s not right – and it’s not my attitude.
If it is my attitude… it’s because something is causing it to stink…
11:14pm.  late again.
robin is asleep… i want to fall asleep with her, our clocks are three hours off…
oh well.  i’ll sneak in again, in the veil of darkness, and awake to find her gone…
bathroom light on, shower going… then asleep again.
awake.  she says goodbye, i love you, see you later
7…8…9 hours later.
what is she like during the day?  during a weekday?  I’ve forgotten… no.  i haven’t.
I miss lazy days.  i miss the beach.
with her.
and now the next step has ‘kids’ written all over it… lazy days?  goodbye.
i want to be creative… but i feel like ‘creative’ to me is doing something new and cool that people think is new and cool… why can’t i just be creative for the sake of being creative?
am i … jim krill… living for the praise of men?
sick.  i preach against that all the time.
pathetic… i thought i was above that.
hard… i still think i am… not sure why i reside on that side of the tracks… when i picture myself on the other
this stream of conscienceness is getting tired, weary from the long strings of thoughts, fearful of fully uncovering the face behind the mask…
tomorrow: it holds another day.
another morning of clearing my sinuses… trying to breathe again.  just one more breathe.
just one more.  one more.  please?
did i break my self… or was i given a lemon of a body?
i want a respiratory system transplant… do they do that?
how did i come to this place…talking about sinuses?  hmm… oh yes, waking up… tomorrow.
wednesday.  hump day.  middle of the week.  November 1.  New month.. .that’s exciting at least.
i hope there are more clouds… more sunsets.. more rain.
what am i thankful for… that’s what november is all about… right?
hmm… i’m thankful for the hope of a future.  man that took me three minutes to think of.
i start my soda diet tomorrow… i’m going off carbonated beverages for a month.
but… i’m thankful for dr. pepper… dang it.
agoura soccer starts soon… coaching.  what a strange job.
teaching kids to chase after a feeling of victory in an unimportant game which kicks a ball around trying to get it past a guy with gloves into a net… get the most, win, and feel… good?
but we’re teaching them discipline.  respect.  teamwork.
… yeah?  for what… a trophy?  Trophies fall apart, get forgotten… i only have one left.  Not sure why i keep it.
so we take hours…and hours… to teach them about hard work and discipline, to win a worthless game that is only important to maybe 50 people… and then, they get fat, they get old, they get jobs… the sport is gone – where are the lessons learned… translated into real world experiences… and yet, sporting lessons, sporting analogies fall so short from real life experiences and wisdom.  sorry.
people living and dying is way more important than putting a ball in a net.
no matter what pyscho / anger problems coach of the year says.
i can’t spell tonight.
i should go to bed.
overcome.  that is what my background says on my computer… with a broken bar code symbol – i like that.  overcome greed.  overcome consumption.  overcome consumerism.
yeah jim.  overcome it you bastard.
i bought two things today – i buy for work so it doesn’t feel like i am buying for myself… but sometimes, it’s selfish.
damn.  that sounds worse when it actually comes out.
i don’t think i can say that there is anything i have bought, that i can think of, that i haven’t used for ministry though… video stuff, website stuff, books, music stuff… it all get’s used at some point for the kids… for the church.
so… beyond my selfish i suppose god can still use me.
amazing.
people shouldn’t bitch so much about right and wrong, because god seems to find ways to use even the wrong… to create right.
so what profession am i in… bitching?
I feel like it sometimes… my job is to tell people what they are doing wrong, and how they can fix that, to live better, feel better, and have more joy.
hmm… no wonder nobody listens to pastors anymore.
father… i wish this was easier.  why is it so hard?
…. where are the answers when you’ve run out of questions?  I used to have questions… perhaps i still do.
it’s still october.  for twenty eight more minutes.
i wish i could type without backspacing.  i think i did about twenty times in that last sentence.
add three more.
ok this is nonsense now…. goodnight.