They are found.
Sleeping around a fire in the mountains... seeing our Father smiling down on his boys...
Side by side in a raging stream... rejoicing in the skill of the union of fish and fly...
Around a wooden table in a cabin... sharing the deep places...
...Back to back in a foxhole... ready for the next moment to fight for each other against the Enemy...
They are found.
I came to think of this recently...the deepest of thoughts came in the image of the foxhole, seeing Daniel in the field today at work. Our Father has chosen a most interesting path for our time in the world of men, in the fields of various places. Some would call it humble work. Others, something else. My heart...calls it "shepherd work." I'll go deeper into that when the time is right.
I saw Daniel in the field, surrounded by tall grass and tall, thick bushes. And then, suddenly, another image took its place. Dan, surrounded by...figures. Fighting for his life... There is a scene in every war movie, to some given extent, where a man in the middle of a great battle looks over, and sees his brother fighting not far away, with the same purpose...the same desire...the same heart. Whether back to back, or simply in sight of each other, it is there. Brothers, who fight for each other. Who watch each other's back, and fight to protect it.
King Arthur...
Lord of the Rings...
Robin Hood...
300...
Watch them. You will see it...
One thing I've never seen is a bond of brotherhood forged deeper than in the fires of combat. In a foxhole, in a cabin, around a fire...brothers who fight together become brothers beyond what most people can understand. Fighting for Dan... Fighting for Campbell... Fighting for Adam... Against an Enemy who looks to steal the life from, kill the desire of, and destroy the essence of their hearts.
Today, listening to a teaching that John Eldredge gave, and seeing Dan, I'm beginning to realize that we are truly born into a world at war, that we have a place in that battle, that we are meant to fight, and that we have an Enemy who is bent on destroying us and everything...everyone, we care about... I love my brothers here. The time we've had here...I'd trust any one of them at my back in that battle, protecting me. Watching over me as I watch over them. The thought of that fills me with a combination of excitement, over the thought of this journey of meaning...and fear, over the fact that this journey has an incredible share of danger, and the risk is great.
The truth is, I wouldn't have it any other way...
Because there are those who I know are right next to me...back to back, or just in sight...fighting with the same heart...
I call them brothers...
I love my journey...
Friday, July 27, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Sages
One of the most characterizing attributes of my soul...would be that I love stories. Beginnings... progressions... endings... Movies', books', and especially people's. There were certain games that I played as a kid solely because of the stories they brought. Knowing that, it has been an interesting realization for me to discover that, even though I have this passion for stories, of my brothers, I've shared the least of my own...of my time here...
There is a reason for that...one that I have worked through, hopefully. One that I am choosing not to share in this way. One thing I wish for you to know, though, is the deep sacredness that my journey here, holds in my heart. It is something that has been more significant than anything else in my life, throughout my 24 years. In comparison to the sentiment that I hold for it, the word 'cherish' feels like a word used to describe one's emotional attachment to a bowl of tofu. Its measure is nowhere close. I want those who are curious about the nature of this program...mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends...and most especially the young men who search with their heart....to know that it is the deepest experience that I have ever had. The greatest journey of my soul. And it is the most envigorating, awakening, and life-giving pursuit that your heart will ever take. It comes with trial, sweat, tears, hard work, ruggedness, engaged vulnerability, and is continually deeper than you will continually think it to be. Men...real men...are forged here. Young men, do it.
If you've read the hearts of my brothers, and fathers, you've received a pretty good summation of our path here so far. We've hiked mountains where air and water are of the highest value due to their elusiveness, we've entered into the world of men in our work, we've mountain biked paths that have made my mind abandon reason (usually when I'm midair after having hit something hard, fast...), we've spent days out on the beautiful trout-filled rivers of the Big Thompson, the South Platte, as well as Dream Lake, which is surrounded by mountains at 10,000 feet, while sleeping in a fisherman's cabin during that trip. And we know that there is still a great deal more to come.
The truth of the matter, though, is that the most significant piece is missed when only those things are thought to be the essence of the program. There is something much deeper happening. Something not recognized enough in the eyes of people who see what we are doing here. It is what made my soul almost come apart at the seams with excitement.
It is the fathering, brought by these men, whom I refer to as, sages.
These men...these tough, weathered, experienced men...
Meeting them over time, they are indeed quite different from each other...in personality, profession, interaction... But there is something that has been overwhelmingly present in all of them. They have the spirit of men. Men of courage... Men of strength... Men of passion... You can see it in their eyes, their stories, and their lives. And they are passing that spirit on to us in the way it was meant to be. John (Eldredge) has said that masculinity is bestowed. It is truth, in the deepest way. Men bringing younger men into the deep places of their worlds, giving them what their hearts, and their souls, truly need. And helping them to see...that it is indeed the Father who is initiating all of it, and is actively our true Father in all of it. This...is the essence of the program.
Mothers...
When your son enters here, into this world, do not grieve the loss of your boy as he was, for when he returns, you will find that before you stands something even better than the boy you knew. He will be in every way your son, but no longer your boy. He is indeed...a man. And everyone around him...including you as one of the greatest degree...will find greater life in his presence. This path, is something of strength, honor, and beauty. It was the path meant to be taken for the heart of a boy, to become the heart of a man. Let him take it. And embrace exhilaratingly joyful tears at what you will find standing before you. Trust that our Father knows what He's doing.
I hope that the weight I have given my words to bear here will leave an impression upon you as to the sacredness, and the rugged holiness, that this journey here has held for me.
There is a reason for that...one that I have worked through, hopefully. One that I am choosing not to share in this way. One thing I wish for you to know, though, is the deep sacredness that my journey here, holds in my heart. It is something that has been more significant than anything else in my life, throughout my 24 years. In comparison to the sentiment that I hold for it, the word 'cherish' feels like a word used to describe one's emotional attachment to a bowl of tofu. Its measure is nowhere close. I want those who are curious about the nature of this program...mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends...and most especially the young men who search with their heart....to know that it is the deepest experience that I have ever had. The greatest journey of my soul. And it is the most envigorating, awakening, and life-giving pursuit that your heart will ever take. It comes with trial, sweat, tears, hard work, ruggedness, engaged vulnerability, and is continually deeper than you will continually think it to be. Men...real men...are forged here. Young men, do it.
If you've read the hearts of my brothers, and fathers, you've received a pretty good summation of our path here so far. We've hiked mountains where air and water are of the highest value due to their elusiveness, we've entered into the world of men in our work, we've mountain biked paths that have made my mind abandon reason (usually when I'm midair after having hit something hard, fast...), we've spent days out on the beautiful trout-filled rivers of the Big Thompson, the South Platte, as well as Dream Lake, which is surrounded by mountains at 10,000 feet, while sleeping in a fisherman's cabin during that trip. And we know that there is still a great deal more to come.
The truth of the matter, though, is that the most significant piece is missed when only those things are thought to be the essence of the program. There is something much deeper happening. Something not recognized enough in the eyes of people who see what we are doing here. It is what made my soul almost come apart at the seams with excitement.
It is the fathering, brought by these men, whom I refer to as, sages.
These men...these tough, weathered, experienced men...
Meeting them over time, they are indeed quite different from each other...in personality, profession, interaction... But there is something that has been overwhelmingly present in all of them. They have the spirit of men. Men of courage... Men of strength... Men of passion... You can see it in their eyes, their stories, and their lives. And they are passing that spirit on to us in the way it was meant to be. John (Eldredge) has said that masculinity is bestowed. It is truth, in the deepest way. Men bringing younger men into the deep places of their worlds, giving them what their hearts, and their souls, truly need. And helping them to see...that it is indeed the Father who is initiating all of it, and is actively our true Father in all of it. This...is the essence of the program.
Mothers...
When your son enters here, into this world, do not grieve the loss of your boy as he was, for when he returns, you will find that before you stands something even better than the boy you knew. He will be in every way your son, but no longer your boy. He is indeed...a man. And everyone around him...including you as one of the greatest degree...will find greater life in his presence. This path, is something of strength, honor, and beauty. It was the path meant to be taken for the heart of a boy, to become the heart of a man. Let him take it. And embrace exhilaratingly joyful tears at what you will find standing before you. Trust that our Father knows what He's doing.
I hope that the weight I have given my words to bear here will leave an impression upon you as to the sacredness, and the rugged holiness, that this journey here has held for me.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Leaving Rivendell
New fathers... New brothers... New journey... These stories may seem like they're coming in rapid succession, but the truth is I've had them to tell for some time. I'm simply only doing so now. The path to Mordor began with the first step out of Rivendell. Our first trial took the form of the Snowy Ridge Mountain Range of Wyoming. A trek that spanned across 32 miles, with varying vertical elevations (give or take a thousand feet), over 6 days. Oh, did I mention that 95% of the hike was atop snow that was at least 4 feet deep? That adds a great deal of difficulty when you continue to sink several feet in each step, and then have to climb out each time, otherwise known as "postholing." In my life, this has been the hardest thing I've ever done, physically.
To give the details of each day would take pages, and I'm not sure I'm that patient :)
The highlights of the trek would definately be the first night, the summit, the day after, and our last evening on the mountain.
The first night we camped, truthfully, I was suffering from a pretty good case of altitude sickness, or so it was deemed. I was incredibly tired and exerted, I had a tremendous headache (I don't get headaches), and for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to hold any food down. For those who know me...well, yeah. I'll put it this way. I usually eat a 12" Subway sub in the time it takes most to eat a 6"er. The reason it was a highlight was because of the shared stories, the fact that it made me worry about whether I could actually make it the rest of the way, and the affirmation I received from the men in the group about what they saw when they looked at me. According to them, my wounds were barely noticeable under my "strong, rugged, aware" exterior (an exterior unbeknownst to me). What made that difficult to hear though, was the fact that what they saw didn't match the condition of my heart. My response was that my exterior was the product of me trying to fight my way through the intense fears and doubts seeded deep in my heart. I wanted the inside to match, or better yet, be the reason for the outside. It seems my battle rages across the senses of the physical, emotional, and spiritual. The first real engagement of my heart there, that evening, made it worth the night's anguish.
Two days later. 2-3 o'clock in the morning. We got up and got ready to climb. The next few hours were probably some of the most grueling of the entire trip. The snow had not hardened a great deal yet, so we were falling through. Adam and I were having trouble, particularly, being the heavier guys. That meant a lot of posthole trudging. Xan and Cory, during that time, became instruments of the Spirit (I'm convinced) to help us confront the different lies and false messages that we each had been told our entire lives. I will say this again. The climb was brutal, but worth it. Dawn broke, and we were still an hour or more from the summit. Amid snow, islands of massive rocks that we climbed, steep vertical ascents, and not knowing just how much further we had to go, it was a huge trial of faith in our guides, faith in ourselves, and faith in the lessons our Father had for us the entire way.
200 yards from the summit, Cory and Xan stopped us, then called us one by one, before sending us the rest of the way on our own. When they called me, they were holding a rock that weighed a good amount. They told me that the rock represented the weight of the lies that I had carried for the last 4 years. Lies stemming from the loneliness that came with the feelings of abandonment during my younger life. Lies persuading me that I'm not worth anyone's time, that I have nothing to offer anyone, and that hiding the depths of who I am, including my deep brokenness, behind layers of humor and unnoticed distance (I keep the deepest parts of me distant from almost everyone) is the only way that anyone will like me. I pushed with everything in my muscles and heart to reach that top, the rock in my arms, and when I finally did, I slammed it down next to Campbell's, proclaiming the statement of my heart that I will not be ruled by this. The lies and sins of the generations of men in my family that have caused so much pain end with me. The effects and massive repurcussions of fathers destroying the spirits of their sons...it ends with me.
Another reason that day was a highlight was because, on the way down, I took down both Xan and Cory when they each tried to tackle me from behind. So, despite what Cory says, he went down big time.
I wish I had known at that moment, on the summit, what I have come to realize now. To end a tidal wave of generationally intensifying pain, you need to stand, turn, and take the full force of it across the chest. Across the heart. The next day, my heart broke under feeling the full pain of that wave. For the first time in quite a long time, my barriers came crashing down...and I wept. Heaving breaths. Convulsing tears. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have really cried in my entire life. This was a true landmark in my soul. For the first time, with the help of Xan, Cory, and my brothers, I believe I was able to finally mourn the intense pain and loss in my heart. I was able to sit and endure the sins of men past, the pain of loneliness, the pain of abandonment. It was the first step in my journey to end it.
The last evening on the mountain was one of great sensation and celebration. As far as sensation goes, our site ran alongside a decent sized river that flowed with enough force to create some smaller scale white water. That afternoon, I sat alongside it and watched the river...felt the wind...listened to the trees as it blew...and something happened. I felt in the core of my spirit a feeling of....belovedness. I felt as if I were in the presence of a man that I would call father. For those who know me, this is significant. It is one of the deepest of holes in my heart, that of a father's delight. I know my father loves me, as I do him, but the deep rootedness of the sins of family men past, which are ending with me, have left my soul empty and undeveloped. Hence the dramatic weeping. So to feel the delight of my Father gave my heart great joy, and I simply sat there and basked in it for as long as I could, by that river. He came to me.
That night, Xan and Cory had been praying over each of us, asking God for the words and images to give us that defined our identities in God's eyes. As they gave us each our words, we knew that they each rang true. These men truly hear from God, for their words touch the deepest areas of our hearts, and bring life. I feel honored whenever I am in their presence. It is truly a gift. They can't wrestle to save their life, though. That night, we sat around a campfire (one of several masterfully crafted by Dan, the Fire Hazard as he has been nicknamed) and shared stories of success, brotherhood, Heavenly Fathering, and the strengths that we saw in each other the brought us all through this intense trial of body and spirit...body in that we were truly exhausted, and spirit in that we each raged battle against the lies seeded in our hearts. 'Rewarding' does not even come close to doing justice in describing this experience. I climbed, I hiked, I bled, I teared, I bled some more, and I fought through with all the fury within me...as did my brothers, Campbell, Adam, and Dan...and we made it. But we also know our journey has just started. Leaving Rivendell was only the beginning.
As far as it all ending with me, I've had a great deal of time to think about what that will take. For it to end, I will have to continue to confront the full weight of it all...the pain, the tears, the work, the battle....and overcome it. The truth is, that calls for a great deal of pain to endure, as I have felt. Even more than I have felt, and I have fear as a result. I don't care though. If that is what it takes for my own father and brothers to heal, my mother to have a source of strength, my wife (someday) to be loved the way she is meant to be, and my sons and daughters (also, someday) to be raised in the authentic strength, wisdom and kindness I am seeking...
So be it...
To give the details of each day would take pages, and I'm not sure I'm that patient :)
The highlights of the trek would definately be the first night, the summit, the day after, and our last evening on the mountain.
The first night we camped, truthfully, I was suffering from a pretty good case of altitude sickness, or so it was deemed. I was incredibly tired and exerted, I had a tremendous headache (I don't get headaches), and for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to hold any food down. For those who know me...well, yeah. I'll put it this way. I usually eat a 12" Subway sub in the time it takes most to eat a 6"er. The reason it was a highlight was because of the shared stories, the fact that it made me worry about whether I could actually make it the rest of the way, and the affirmation I received from the men in the group about what they saw when they looked at me. According to them, my wounds were barely noticeable under my "strong, rugged, aware" exterior (an exterior unbeknownst to me). What made that difficult to hear though, was the fact that what they saw didn't match the condition of my heart. My response was that my exterior was the product of me trying to fight my way through the intense fears and doubts seeded deep in my heart. I wanted the inside to match, or better yet, be the reason for the outside. It seems my battle rages across the senses of the physical, emotional, and spiritual. The first real engagement of my heart there, that evening, made it worth the night's anguish.
Two days later. 2-3 o'clock in the morning. We got up and got ready to climb. The next few hours were probably some of the most grueling of the entire trip. The snow had not hardened a great deal yet, so we were falling through. Adam and I were having trouble, particularly, being the heavier guys. That meant a lot of posthole trudging. Xan and Cory, during that time, became instruments of the Spirit (I'm convinced) to help us confront the different lies and false messages that we each had been told our entire lives. I will say this again. The climb was brutal, but worth it. Dawn broke, and we were still an hour or more from the summit. Amid snow, islands of massive rocks that we climbed, steep vertical ascents, and not knowing just how much further we had to go, it was a huge trial of faith in our guides, faith in ourselves, and faith in the lessons our Father had for us the entire way.
200 yards from the summit, Cory and Xan stopped us, then called us one by one, before sending us the rest of the way on our own. When they called me, they were holding a rock that weighed a good amount. They told me that the rock represented the weight of the lies that I had carried for the last 4 years. Lies stemming from the loneliness that came with the feelings of abandonment during my younger life. Lies persuading me that I'm not worth anyone's time, that I have nothing to offer anyone, and that hiding the depths of who I am, including my deep brokenness, behind layers of humor and unnoticed distance (I keep the deepest parts of me distant from almost everyone) is the only way that anyone will like me. I pushed with everything in my muscles and heart to reach that top, the rock in my arms, and when I finally did, I slammed it down next to Campbell's, proclaiming the statement of my heart that I will not be ruled by this. The lies and sins of the generations of men in my family that have caused so much pain end with me. The effects and massive repurcussions of fathers destroying the spirits of their sons...it ends with me.
Another reason that day was a highlight was because, on the way down, I took down both Xan and Cory when they each tried to tackle me from behind. So, despite what Cory says, he went down big time.
I wish I had known at that moment, on the summit, what I have come to realize now. To end a tidal wave of generationally intensifying pain, you need to stand, turn, and take the full force of it across the chest. Across the heart. The next day, my heart broke under feeling the full pain of that wave. For the first time in quite a long time, my barriers came crashing down...and I wept. Heaving breaths. Convulsing tears. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have really cried in my entire life. This was a true landmark in my soul. For the first time, with the help of Xan, Cory, and my brothers, I believe I was able to finally mourn the intense pain and loss in my heart. I was able to sit and endure the sins of men past, the pain of loneliness, the pain of abandonment. It was the first step in my journey to end it.
The last evening on the mountain was one of great sensation and celebration. As far as sensation goes, our site ran alongside a decent sized river that flowed with enough force to create some smaller scale white water. That afternoon, I sat alongside it and watched the river...felt the wind...listened to the trees as it blew...and something happened. I felt in the core of my spirit a feeling of....belovedness. I felt as if I were in the presence of a man that I would call father. For those who know me, this is significant. It is one of the deepest of holes in my heart, that of a father's delight. I know my father loves me, as I do him, but the deep rootedness of the sins of family men past, which are ending with me, have left my soul empty and undeveloped. Hence the dramatic weeping. So to feel the delight of my Father gave my heart great joy, and I simply sat there and basked in it for as long as I could, by that river. He came to me.
That night, Xan and Cory had been praying over each of us, asking God for the words and images to give us that defined our identities in God's eyes. As they gave us each our words, we knew that they each rang true. These men truly hear from God, for their words touch the deepest areas of our hearts, and bring life. I feel honored whenever I am in their presence. It is truly a gift. They can't wrestle to save their life, though. That night, we sat around a campfire (one of several masterfully crafted by Dan, the Fire Hazard as he has been nicknamed) and shared stories of success, brotherhood, Heavenly Fathering, and the strengths that we saw in each other the brought us all through this intense trial of body and spirit...body in that we were truly exhausted, and spirit in that we each raged battle against the lies seeded in our hearts. 'Rewarding' does not even come close to doing justice in describing this experience. I climbed, I hiked, I bled, I teared, I bled some more, and I fought through with all the fury within me...as did my brothers, Campbell, Adam, and Dan...and we made it. But we also know our journey has just started. Leaving Rivendell was only the beginning.
As far as it all ending with me, I've had a great deal of time to think about what that will take. For it to end, I will have to continue to confront the full weight of it all...the pain, the tears, the work, the battle....and overcome it. The truth is, that calls for a great deal of pain to endure, as I have felt. Even more than I have felt, and I have fear as a result. I don't care though. If that is what it takes for my own father and brothers to heal, my mother to have a source of strength, my wife (someday) to be loved the way she is meant to be, and my sons and daughters (also, someday) to be raised in the authentic strength, wisdom and kindness I am seeking...
So be it...
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Journey
The truth is, for four years, my soul has longed for the fierceness that lays in the heart of a man created by God. Somewhere along the line, whether it be due to loss of my fathered years at an early age or to the way the majority of the Church expects men to act nowadays, I lost it. Or even worse, I have realized, I never received it. God has drawn me here to find it. Alongside my 3 newfound brothers, and I use the word 'brothers' emphatically, under the tutelage of 2 true men, Xan and Cory, my heart has already changed for the dramatically better.
In the short span of less than a week, God's Spirit has moved here to break down barriers that most would find considerable, if not impossible. He is here, and He is moving with force. Through the deepest of trials, one of which we have seen ourselves through, and of which I will write about soon, our hearts are becoming the unapologetically rugged and loving hearts they were meant to be. This is a place where men...true men...will be found, and made. I strive to be one in the company of those men.
Be well.
Josh
In the short span of less than a week, God's Spirit has moved here to break down barriers that most would find considerable, if not impossible. He is here, and He is moving with force. Through the deepest of trials, one of which we have seen ourselves through, and of which I will write about soon, our hearts are becoming the unapologetically rugged and loving hearts they were meant to be. This is a place where men...true men...will be found, and made. I strive to be one in the company of those men.
Be well.
Josh
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