Do you have a dream? Maybe something you’ve always wanted to do. Maybe something you’ve always wanted to be. Have you done it? Are you what you dreamed of being? Is live what you thought it would be?

If you’re like me, you probably have some aspirations unrealized. It’s not that I’ve fallen short of who I thought I was going to be. It’s more like the plans just kind of changed somewhere along the way. I’ve adapted to life. In many ways, I’m much more than I thought I would ever be. I am a faithful and devoted father and husband, something that has brought me more joy than I could ever imagine. In so many ways, I have been blessed beyond belief with the things that matter most in life. Some changes or adaptations have been better than I imagined…others, less. With the many realized, beautiful blessings in my life, I have also fallen short. I’m not a successful writer. I’m not a noted musician. I’m not a professional baseball player and I can’t jump buildings in a single bound.

As I reflect on my path, and how I’ve come to the place I find myself today, I wonder how much I’ve actually been proactive in my life versus how much I’ve simply reacted to the life that’s going on around me. I’d like to say that I’ve planned out every step of the way and it’s turned out exactly like my plan. Success! But that’s just not true. Life has happened to me. Bad things have happened despite my best efforts to avoid them. Good things have also happened to me, despite my efforts to sabotage myself. I think this is how God works. We have a plan and He has a plan. Sometimes they mesh and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes we listen to Him and sometimes we don’t. Sometimes God takes me places I’ve never dreamed of, sometimes I run the other way, and sometimes I just find myself reacting to the circumstances unfolding around me without actually being proactive either way.

In turn, like the life lived on auto-pilot, I wonder also how much our faith is acted on and how much is reactive. Do you practice your faith? To practice something implies action. To work at something, hone it and sharpen it. Are you active in your life? Do you have a plan? Are your dreams and aspirations God-inspired? Does your life reflect the glory of God? 2 Peter 3-11 gives some good advice for aligning your faith with your actions, for being intentional about living the life that God created you to live.

What do you practice? Guitar? Writing? Parenthood? Do you practice being a good spouse? A good listener? Do you practice your faith? Do you practice living life or do you find yourself reacting to your environment more than creating it? Too many questions? What’s your reaction?

I want to strive to be the best at the things that I am passionate about.  On the other hand the things I am not passionate about I am completely content with being mediocre, as long as I am trying hard enough.  I know the Bible says to do everything as if you are doing it for the Lord, but is it considered good enough for the Lord if you end product is mediocre?  I think it is, as long as you are putting forward enough effort.  This leads me in to thinking about people who are really good at something but do not get the recognition that someone who is the best may get.  For example, I was watching game 4 of the NBA finals and I saw that the Celtics Bench team pretty much won that game for them while a lot of the starters were resting.  Now in order to play in the NBA you need to be a  phenomenal basketball player, I recognize this but you don’t ever really see them spotlighting Nate Robinson (Celtics Bench) over Kevin Garnett (Celtics starter) on ESPN.  These guys are far from mediocre as well, and the games can not all be won without these supporting players.  This leads me into life, some people can not be successful at a lot of things in life unless they have those supporting players to be there for their lives.  So possibly all in all being mediocre may not be what some people are, they may be ridiculously good at what the do, just not the best, I still think they deserve the recognition that the peoplewho are the best get, because sometimes those people who are the best can not be the best without those who may not be the best…bit of a tongue twister I know.  Do you think that people who may be considered mediocre, may not actually be mediocre but extraordinary?

With Father’s day being near I decided to share a quite raw and somewhat brutal piece I wrote about My father about 8 months ago…It’s harsh, it’s rough but it’s hopeful.  I know I have written about him before but I have just felt led that this is what I was supposed to post tonight.  Please try to understand the hope in this piece…

New Balance

Dead-beat waste of life, uneducated, hopeless, withering soul, substance absorbing seed donor.  You see my papa was a rolling stone.  With no high school diploma he successfully had four children with two different women.  Typical black man, right?  The man loves that white meat, he preys on their insecurities.  His once found confidence was to die for, but was backed with nothing.  To resist his dark skin and alluringly wicked charm was hard to do, his words were convincing but riddle with shame and misfortune.  He has a love for music and has an unlimited catalog of musical knowledge.  A dreamer with no dreams he strikes rhythms to hopefully go somewhere.  That somewhere took him to years of swallowing, inhaling and absorbing into the hole in his chest.  The man did this to himself.  Now I have to live life scared to the point of shakes that I will inherit these addictions.  Whispering promises is something he has been wonderful at, but if he shouted his promises he would be liable to let down more than just his children.  Waiting by the door looking out the window for his arrival that never came are some of my best memories of him.  The butterflies I would stomach when he would say, “I’m on my way to see you” are ones that will never return, for they are forever stuck in their chrysalis that is so hard to break through from years of disappointment.  Perhaps I should try to remember something better, like the walks we would go on together to the liquor store when he would get himself a tall boy of Budweiser and buy me a little bottle of Sunkist and a bag of cheese doodles.  My pulse stops when remembering the sound of his staggered footsteps and the look of his new balance sneakers when the sun would strike the reflector on the N in the middle of the sneaker as he would drink the tallboy wrapped in the wrinkled brown-bag on the walk back home.  The stale smoke and grilled cheese scent of my short stayed childhood home is one that haunts my memory, but whenever I have visited that place I still felt at home.  I would wonder if he loved the “boy down the street” more than me as he would push me to play drum beats that were too difficult for my 4 year-old frame.  With a can in his hand he would threaten me to the “whoopin’ chair” if I couldn’t play as good as he.  That is when he was there.

I remember looking to the sidelines of my soccer games seeing proud fathers cheering their children to victory, as my mother tried hard to fill that role.  I now fear that is the reason why I hated competitive sports as a child and teenager.  When I watch my New York Giants, I am stunned with shameful thoughts of wondering, “Maybe that coulda’ been me.”  The knowledge I lacked in my younger years about professional sports, are to be completely blamed on him.  I wish we were able to watch football like most of the boys in my neighborhood did on Sundays with their fathers.  I loved our discussions of Michael Jordan, that were never face-to-face, but always over the phone, I remember when the phone calls stopped, I was a teenager.  In my most vulnerable moldable years he was stomping the streets of brick city forgetting his past, as I was trying so hard to learn to be a man and foresee my future.  My heart was hardened to fathers.  The idea of the strength of a man was far from home to me.  Being surrounded by women is something that I had to cling to.  Years went by with close to no contact with my father, the man who watched me spring out of my mother’s womb, gone.  I am the man’s only son, how can one let go of that.  When I think of all his let downs the biggest one is that I have learned nothing from him.

All of these things I say to destroy his already small statured reputation are now the things that bring me joy to who this man is.  You see I had a self-realization moment a few years ago around the brink of me deciding I wanted to get married.  How can I be a husband or a good father with no contact with my own?  How can I have kids and them not have any clue who there Grandfather is or where their roots dwell?  My heart broke at the reality of this idea.  I needed to have this relationship, I needed to tell him about my needs, cares, and how our future didn’t need to be but was going to be.  This conversation was a pivotal moment in our relationship.  It was a bit of a shocker for him, catching him off guard with the words that his boy (who is now a man) loaded in his shotgun of love and aimed straight at his chest.  His defeated demeanor and shaky voice was riddled with something I needed from him, Hope.  Hope of a future.  Hope of a relationship.  Hope of a father.  Hope for a son.  I wasn’t looking for instant gratification, not just an “I love you and care for you” then to go back to the way it was.  I needed his concern, and to hear the sound of his voice more often than what I was hearing.  I needed him to try.

This conversation was over 2 yeas ago.  I can’t say that he is the best father ever, or the most amazing male figure in my life, but I can say he is trying.  Although it is likely he may never be either one of those things, I still find an overwhelming amount of joy that I hear from him every week or two since then.  His effort is what makes me understand now why I love him.   I would think to myself in earlier years why I love this man so much, I think it is just that God-given love mechanism that we have that makes us love our family whether we like them or not.  I burst with a prideful scream now that I actually have a reason to love him.  Understanding why I actually love my father is a new feeling that is very hard for me to express, instead of thinking of all his horrible traits and terrible habits, I instantly think, the man is trying.  I also have come to grips that I hate the term “Typical Black Man.”  I have many friends of many different races and back rounds and I can only claim two or three of them with fathers that are better off than my own.  So perhaps we should say “Typical Man?”  If so I refuse to take refuge in that title, I will not be that man.  I’ve learned too much from my father to end up that way.

This brings me to realize that I have learned things from my father.  I have learned what it is that I should not do when dealing with my wife and my children.  I have learned that I must lean on higher powers instead of substances.  My favorite lesson so far is that I have learned to maintain hope, and that people can be resilient, he is showing me much resilience in his reparation of our relationship.  I pray this will or is leaking over to my siblings, if not I hope they can have the conversation that they need to have with our father for it has been much more of a blessing than a curse.  I realize I have inherited things from him.  I am a drummer like he, my love for music is almost as large as my love for my life, my favorite sneaker is New Balance, and I as well have a heart to be resilient in my relationship with him.  They may not be deep or very monumental but I still find that these things are far from coincidental.

Do you think God intended some children to have relationships with their parents like this?  Do you see beauty is repaired relationships although there was a lot of years of hurt?  Could you respect a parent in the way God wants you too if you are or could have been in a similar situation?  Thoughts, cares, concerns and discussion are appreciated…

I wrote this blog on Monday January 2nd 2006…please read with the idea in mind that I was a single 22 year old boy…please read the excerpt that follows.

New years, pretty good time.  I am starting to realize though as I get older the whole idea of New Years is losing its Love.  I think its pretty sad too.  Its just not as exciting as it was when you were a kid.  Its just doesnt seem to be the same anymore, next year I want to try to make it more like it is and it was when you are younger.

In the year 2006 I am gonna…

Try to take a road trip across the US.

Start a band.

Finally pick somewhere to go to college (i’ll take suggestions).

Finally get to Africa.

If not Africa go backpacking in Europe with, you know who you are.

Possibly work one more summer at camp(I’m getting really old for this).

Somehow find a way to live with Daniel Lee for a period of time in hopes to become heavily inspired by who he is so I can write a story and a movie about it.

Try not to fall in love with a female just for this year(who am I kidding).

Try not to be so cynical and sarcastic.

try not to wear white after labor day(This comment already makes me fail to meet the above comment).

Become friends with someone that has no friends.

Visit Texas.

Somehow make a Large sum of money and Donate it to people who need it, but i mean people who actually really need it.

Meet Jim Carrey somehow.

Makeout with Salma Hayek somehow.

Start a dance pop band.

Take a whole lot more pictures.

And finally….Become President.

Its weird though, because This is the New Year and I dont feel any different….

Why do you suppose we make lists of things we need to do in our lives?  I love looking back at this list although only 4 years ago it seems like decades.  I was in a much different situation back then and most of the things on that list I did not get completed.  Now that I am older and married It’s funny how the juvenile things I did when I was younger seem now.  I thought these list were important and defined who I was and who I was going to be.  What it comes down to is…God is going to have you do the things on his list, not ours.  I think it is very important to have goals, and if you feel you need to list them, then definitely do so.  As far as making lists with sometimes outrageous things on them (see above list) I think it is more necessary to ask God, what he wants you to do this year, instead of planning it out yourself.  I have made a ton of lists like this and most times I never meet half of no less all of them.  On that list above I remeber that year I only did 2 things, the first thing was Go to camp one more summer, I did do that again, the next thing was I visited Texas to see my friend at the time, who is now my wife.  I didn’t need a list for those things to happen.  I’m glad they did though.  I don’t think lists are stupid, in some cases I think they are fun, but a lot of times the list can have ideas on them that are a bit hard to reach.  Do you think lists like these are important?  Do you think I was stupid or ignorant for doing such a list like this?  Do you think you could ask God what he wants you to do instead of trying to plan it yourself?

Fences are so common place in American society today that I bet they are rarely even noticed. Oh, you might notice them when it’s time for you to build one.  Then, you become aware of all the varieties, height options, materials, styles, colors, and prices. Or maybe you’d notice if one was constructed because of you. I suspect that imprisoned criminals are very aware of the fences that surround them.

Have you given much thought to the purpose of fences? It seems fairly elementary. They are either erected to keep things out, or to keep things in. I’m hard pressed to think of any other purpose for a fence. Now they might be decorative and pretty, but the purpose is still the same; to sequester. Segregation is the sole purpose of most fences.

With that in mind, I’ve noticed lately that many Christian schools are surrounded by fences, many quite ornate and elaborate, but fences nonetheless. I wonder the purpose of these fences. Are they to keep in or to keep out? What do you think the “outsider” might see when he sees a Christian school fenced in and locked down? I wonder. I realize situations are more complex than a simple either/or, but I’d like to hear varied perspectives on this concept? Any thoughts?

“You would have opened the door if I was a white man” the man shouted.  I looked at him like he was a ghost.  I humbly stated “What do you mean sir?”  He looks at me like I am nothing and says, “If I was a white man you would have opened that door for me.”  I froze for a moment thinking.  It’s currently 9:00am which is corporate allowed time to open the door of the place that I work.  I am in no means racist I am just following protocol.  How dare he say that when he knows nothing about me.  Should I say anything back, or should I just say something dumb like “No, Sir” or “Not at all” either way, I started to get really upset.  Then I thought about what I stand for and where I’m from.  I thought about my father, who is a black man.  I thought about my mother who is a white woman who told me to stand up for what I believe in.  I couldn’t remain silent, so I started softly explaining myself…”Sir I believe you are a child of God, and that I should treat you as I would want to be treated.  I would never open the door two minutes early for you, a white man, a chinese man, an indian man, or any other ethnicity or culture.  I don’t open the door early because in my job description I am told open the door at a specific time and close the door at a specific time.  Lastly, I am very hurt that you would tell me what I would do as if you know who I am.  My father whom I love dearly is a black man like you, so yes I am a black man like you as well, and even if my father was at the door I wouldn’t have opened it till 9am.  So please next time you want to accuse someone of racial profiling or racism, be sure it’s 100%.”  He was silent, he paid his bill and walked out of the store, slowly and silent as if he wanted to apologize.

This really happened to me, and I was very upset by what he said.  Now being an apathetic person I thought harder about it after he had left.  Maybe this man’s whole life, in many different situations, he had been treated poorly because of his skin.  In that case I can kind of understand where he is coming from, but yet I still believe he should really be sure of what he is saying to certain people.  I do understand why some people are sensitive to race issues, I for one have been poked fun at, or have had joked been tossed at me because I am bi-racial.  I know as I get older they bug me more and more, and as I stand up and say something I know that people are a little perturbed that I ask them not to make these jokes.  Should they be?  Should that man have had the right to say what he has said to me?  I think that as children of God a lot of us have lost the sensation of understanding.  We don’t understand other cultures because we surround ourselves with our own.  I do not think this is what God intended, do you?  If I were to challenge you to mix it up with another culture this week could you do it?  Let’s try…

Roy Mwesigwa is a native Ugandan, and a very good friend of a very good friend of mine, Greg Taylor. Roy recently visited the United States for the second time in his life, and I had the privilege of sharing some time with him while he passed through Tulsa. As a group of us shared a meal together at a local Chinese restaurant, we peered across the parking lot at a Wal-Mart. Roy was the first person I had ever met who had not been inside of a Wal-Mart, so after we finished our meal we escorted Roy on a tour of the super-chain. I should explain that it was only a Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market, the grocery-store-only, baby-version of the typical “super” Wal-Mart, so we found ourselves apologizing for this tiny version of the real thing as the glass doors slid open. The wide-eyed look of disbelief and painted smile on Roy’s face told us that he wasn’t able to mentally process even this mini-version of opulence, and probably couldn’t fathom the grander scale that we attempted to describe.

We started with the Red Box movie rental machine out front, explaining to Roy the many entertainment options at his fingertips. He seemed entranced by the machine. As we moved inside, Roy’s eyes met the high ceilings and I imagined a small boy in a blue blazer stepping into Santa’s Workshop, or Charlie taking his first look into the ominous Chocolate Factory. I didn’t see him blink once as he gazed in awe at aisle after aisle of choices; a pyramid of oranges stacked to shoulder height, piles of potatoes, tomatoes of all sizes, packaged breads of various colors and shapes, an entire row of soda choices, and another of only coffee and tea options. When we came to the refrigerated, dairy section, Roy asked me if each glass door that separated product from shopper was an individual refrigerator. I can’t explain his reaction when I told him to look closer, informing him that the entire bank of glass doors was simply the front side of a very large, refrigerated room filled from floor to ceiling with cold product. At this point, some shoppers seemed to sense that something different was happening and a few began to look at Roy with looks of strange curiosity.

I must admit that, while it was a complete joy for me to share in this experience with Roy, I also felt a pervasive sense of guilt coursing through my veins as I imagined the comparisons that Roy was making between the extravagance that we were showing him, and his lifestyle in Uganda. He asked if there were smaller stores that competed with the mega store. Someone replied, “a few, but Wal-Mart runs most of the smaller stores out of business.” Realizing that smaller, independently-owned stores are all he knows, a pinch of sadness now swirled into the amalgam of fun, exhilaration, excitement, dizziness, guilt and extravagance.

What we have at our disposal in America is nothing short of amazing when compared to the rest of the world. Still, if you pay attention to our headlines, it seems that so much of our privilege and luxury is lost in a sea of dissatisfaction, selfishness, and an overpowering sense of entitlement among Americans. I’m not bashing America. I’m very proud to be American but if we’re honest, we’d probably admit that we all take it for granted on certain levels. My experience with Roy, however, helped me to see a bit clearer the reality in which I live, and how it is much different than many other realities across the globe. Of course I knew this before meeting Roy, but there was something poignant about looking into his dark-brown eyes as he saw my world for the first time. At that moment, Uganda had a face, a voice, a personality, a handshake, a smile, and a name; Roy Mwesigwa. His last name means “honest man,” and the eyes of my new friend from across the world certainly spoke truth to me that day. Despite our differences, we are all in this together and I find myself, more and more, wanting to look into the eyes of my neighbors and see the world through their perspectives. We all have our own reality and we are all right where God has placed us, but through they eyes of our neighbor, we can go anywhere, allowing us to see beyond our personal experiences.  Where are you right now? Who is your neighbor? Where do you want to go, and what do you think God wants you to do with your reality?

My wife an I just bought a new car a couple days ago (hence why I am a little late blogging this week.)  This car can be looked at as a status symbol, but believe it or not that is not why we bought the thing.  We bought it because it’s a car that we both have always dreamed about having (because they are beautiful, and it’s strange when we both like something to this magnitude, for we are pretty oppositional when it comes to a lot of preferences) and it was at a price that was so unbeatable that we had to snag it.  One of the things that the car dealer tried to sell us on was the fact that when people see us in this vehicle, they think highly of you, or of your status.  In my mind I could care less, I just want a car that is awesome and in my budget.  This partially goes with the idea of my previous post about people stereotyping at first glance, do people ultimately judge your status or persona or life by the car you drive?  This is yet another thing that I would rather not fall victim of, but sometimes when I see a 200,000 dollar Bentley on the road I can’t help to think you have to have money in order to have a car like that.  It’s funny how people do crave to have an elite status and some will go to the length of buying “elite” things.  I think what truly matters whether you are rich or poor is what you have inside your heart not your wallet.  It’s sort of shameful that in car sales tactics, they do use the idea of the car “enhancing” your status.  The only status I truly worry about is my status with the almighty in Heaven.  Do you think it is important to have nice things?  Do you think it is a proper assessment to judge someone by the model of their car?  Do you think that any of the things we have actually matter in this life?  How often do you worry about your status in society?

The weeks guest post is brought to us by Rex Schultz:

I have been reflecting on the church – the one, holy, catholic, apostolic church. I am influenced at the moment by Matthew Kelly’s book, “Rediscovering Catholicism” (©2002, published by Beacon Publishing, Cincinnati, OH) and the discussion with some Catholics in my neighborhood. I am not a member of the Catholic Church but he reminds me that more than two thousand years ago, a small group of people began to follow & proclaim the teachings of Jesus – became known as “Christians”. They were the original members of “the church” – the seat of and for holiness. God is the Source and He provided a mechanism for the practice of holiness; the infrastructures of forgiveness, grace, and service. God has seeded the assembly with practitioners to encourage, exhort, guide, etc. the faithful (and not so faithful).

Kelly writes, “the Church, like so many other things in life, is not something we inherit from generations past or take over from our predecessors. The Church is on loan to us from future generations.”

In my quest for critical thinking, I have developed a habit of trying to put issues into perspective. On the issue of “the church”, here is my perspective:

As humans, we have four important and integrated aspects – physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. God created us that way; it is part of His design. It is impossible to separate them into distinctly different and separate dimensions –  to isolate one from the others. So, the spiritual aspect of our lives causes us to seek congruence and alignment with the physical, emotional, and intellectual. As a whole person then I search for authentic guidance and development of my spiritual using the physical, emotional, and intellectual aspects.

My spiritual hunger leads me to the church. Jesus revealed the church to Peter, in Matthew 16:18 when He said He would build His church on a heavenly-taught confessor of a faith – that Jesus is the Christ. Peter confessed that the Messiah of the Old Testament was personified in Jesus of Nazareth!
Kelly’s book reminds me that we live in a time of great moral and ethical confusion. Is it not interesting to note that some people confuse the confession while others seek the truth and the authentic?

In a personal study of “conscience”, I listened to a broadcast of R.C. Sproul on “building a Christian conscience”. Sproul says that the confusion between ethics and morality is based on a lack of understanding between the two words. Ethics comes from the Greek ethos which deals with foundational values and is concerned with “oughtness” – the imperative right that we ought to be doing. Morality, on the other hand, is derived from mores or customs and habits within normal behavior. It is descriptive “isness” and describes what people actually do. The consequence of this confusion, according to Sproul, is the emergence of statistical morality – the normal becomes the normative. We determine what people are doing and when enough people are doing the same thing, we declare that behavior to be normal or acceptable. A new morality is born that ignores Biblical ethics.

What has that got to do with the church?  Is the church teaching, preaching, encouraging, and discipling people in ethics or morality? Is there any confusion in the Mission and Vision of your Church?

Rex Schultz is Discipleship Pastor on staff at a Reformed church in Colorado Springs. A lifelong learner, Rex has been a Christian since 1958. By his own admission, he did not completely surrender his life to Christ until 1992. He and Sue have been married 48 years and they have four children and twelve grandchildren. -CQMissional