Strength... Beauty... Pursuit... Invitation... Romance... Love...
Sexuality...
It is a symbol of the most beautiful of romance that God designed, the final touch of Creation. The love of a man and woman fully given to each other for the rest of their days. The full image of God. Something so intimate that it bears its fullest goodness in a close whisper between two, a lover and a beloved. The closeness. The emotion. The intimacy... The Lord even dedicated an entire book of the Bible to the celebration of its existence between two in the deepest love. Something that God had thoroughly crafted, with great time and detail... and then declared good.
It's no wonder that over great time, it has been the target of such vicious assault, and what was once the greatest beauty... has become so marred, almost beyond recognition.
This past week, we entered into the place of sexuality. Original design, the deep goodness of it, and the raging defilement of it by the Enemy. One thing I've experienced in my years, is that it is often a place where very few will venture, almost a Shadowlands of the soul. To be honest, several of the young men here were incredibly fearful, almost to the point where they refused to move forward into it because of the fear of what they might find there. Of the deep shame they might find that had been so deeply buried for so long from some great wounding in the past. I'll describe what it was like for us to enter in to each young man's past -the wounds of deep brokenness brought against many of them- so that you will truly feel what each young man must go through, what we must guide them into, the battles they must fight, so that they become whole, strong men who offer what they were made to be.
Imagine a cave, wide and deep in its berth yet is void of light in only a few steps. Mist, or fog really, that seems to bring the coldness directly to one's bones. Dark, dangerous, where it feels as if the ranks of evil dwell, and seem to greatly outnumber anything that is good. Alone. Or at least, for so many, it feels that way. It brings the same feeling that comes when... say you're alone in the house, and the time comes that night when you turn out the lights and begin to head to bed. In that moment, where you're heading down the toward the bedroom, enveloped by the dark hallway, to your sides and to your back. What is that feeling of fear that comes in that moment? Most people I've met feel it in that moment, almost the impulse to dash into the lighted room before whatever may be there behind you (but never is) grabs you at the last moment and pulls you back into the darkness. Imagine this feeling in that place. In this dark place, where hardly any enter, that is the image. What began as the most beautiful of things, has been brought to this by the assault of the Enemy.
I hope I'm not startling or scaring you with these images, for I'm only trying to help you truly understand the feeling of what it is for these young men to enter into this place, which is so often assaulted, whether by abuse, pornography, deception, betrayl, etc. This place, where so many young men need to be guided, where there seem to be few to no guides to take them there. But with Christ, this is one of the deepest of truths...
To find deep, restorative healing for significant wounding... you must enter back in to those places. You cannot receive healing from a distance... you must enter in, and invite Christ into that place.
What we guided these young men through, and what a beautiful piece it became, was to bring them back into those places, under the guarding of Christ... letting them feel the full weight of the wounding and messages they received, and allow them to receive the healing touch of Christ in those areas, to hear the new words that Christ spoke over them regarding everything in that dark place. And it was beautiful. The only way for light to shine in the dark places, is for one to go back in, however dangerous, with companions and a guide... and bring light with him.
What happens here is incredible...
Friday, July 18, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
A Holy Longing
Something snuck up behind me today.
It was strange...
Love...
I suppose it was really the desire for it that really did the sneaking. To be honest, from before I even came back out here -since August of last year- I placed aside the pursuit of it during my time here. An intentional disengagement, if you will. Put simply, to leave the pursuit of a woman's heart for another season.
I was visiting a man who has been a father figure to me, and his wife, up in Littleton today at the church they're plugged into. Not large, only about 30 people. It was great to see them, and I had planned simply to enjoy the service and their company. And then, there she was.
Some people have asked me what my "type" is, and my response usually goes something like this: I don't really have a type. What ends up happening is I'll meet, or even just see, someone and (snaps) something's there. Some switch'll flip. It's almost independent of me.
And so there she was. She was a beautiful girl, but it was something beyond that. She sang really sweet. It wasn't simply beauty, though that was definately there. It wasn't just her eyes and the way they seemed to capture me when our eyes met continuously during the sermon. Or the way her smile brought out the warmth it did from my heart as she did when we finally met. There was something about her in that she filled the room with such a sweet presence. Now, long story short, we talked for a few minutes, laughed over stories, and then we left (the folks I came to visit and I). I have no idea what will come of anything with it. I met her once today and that was it. I probably won't see her again for months, if ever again. I only know what I felt in those moments with her. What I am very aware of now is what it called out of me. I found myself following thoughts of pursuing her, thinking about where that might lead. The time I might spend with her, the stories and laughs, the pain and tears, the thought of lives shared. The thought of truly enjoying the pursuit of her heart.
The truth is, I know I can't ignore desire. It's there. To love a women well and to be known in the deep places and loved by her. It's definately one of my heart's deepest places of desire. And I don't ignore it. But honestly, I find that I am often not giving myself permission to engage it. To sit with it burning full flame, just feeling it. I find myself asking, What does it look like to sit with desire intensely burning and be content? For me, what I feel left with is a longing. But a longing is different, or at least feels different. A longing feels like a desire embraced by the heart over the currents of time. There is something about it that feels noble. Holy, even.
So my heart wonders why I should meet this girl in a church of 30 people, most of whom were older folks. And why I should happen to be simply captured by the sweetness of her voice and eyes, her presence and laughter? And most of all, the question of what purpose could this desire have had for sneaking up on me in full force? The desire was so potent that I was honestly one step away from leaving my decision to "fast" from romantic pursuit for my year here in the dust. It is so powerful, the desire.
I find myself asking more questions of contentment and where I should let my heart settle. I do love this teaching that John gave on it, though, from his book The Sacred Romance.
"The whole life of the good Christian," said Augustine, is a holy longing.”
Sadly, many of us have been led to feel that somehow we ought to want less, not more. We have this sense that we should atone for our longings, apologize that we feel such deep desire. Shouldn’t we be more content? Perhaps, but contentment is never wanting less; that’s the easy way out. Anybody can look holy if they've killed their heart; the real test is to have your heart burning within you and have the patience to enjoy what there is now to enjoy, while waiting with eager anticipation for the feast to come... There may be times when all we have to go on is a sense of duty. But in the end, if that is all we have, we will never make it."
I'd say for myself, desire is one of the sweetest things of the soul. To sit with it and feel the full weight of it on your heart, and learning to enjoy it... is a sweet nectar.
It was strange...
Love...
I suppose it was really the desire for it that really did the sneaking. To be honest, from before I even came back out here -since August of last year- I placed aside the pursuit of it during my time here. An intentional disengagement, if you will. Put simply, to leave the pursuit of a woman's heart for another season.
I was visiting a man who has been a father figure to me, and his wife, up in Littleton today at the church they're plugged into. Not large, only about 30 people. It was great to see them, and I had planned simply to enjoy the service and their company. And then, there she was.
Some people have asked me what my "type" is, and my response usually goes something like this: I don't really have a type. What ends up happening is I'll meet, or even just see, someone and (snaps) something's there. Some switch'll flip. It's almost independent of me.
And so there she was. She was a beautiful girl, but it was something beyond that. She sang really sweet. It wasn't simply beauty, though that was definately there. It wasn't just her eyes and the way they seemed to capture me when our eyes met continuously during the sermon. Or the way her smile brought out the warmth it did from my heart as she did when we finally met. There was something about her in that she filled the room with such a sweet presence. Now, long story short, we talked for a few minutes, laughed over stories, and then we left (the folks I came to visit and I). I have no idea what will come of anything with it. I met her once today and that was it. I probably won't see her again for months, if ever again. I only know what I felt in those moments with her. What I am very aware of now is what it called out of me. I found myself following thoughts of pursuing her, thinking about where that might lead. The time I might spend with her, the stories and laughs, the pain and tears, the thought of lives shared. The thought of truly enjoying the pursuit of her heart.
The truth is, I know I can't ignore desire. It's there. To love a women well and to be known in the deep places and loved by her. It's definately one of my heart's deepest places of desire. And I don't ignore it. But honestly, I find that I am often not giving myself permission to engage it. To sit with it burning full flame, just feeling it. I find myself asking, What does it look like to sit with desire intensely burning and be content? For me, what I feel left with is a longing. But a longing is different, or at least feels different. A longing feels like a desire embraced by the heart over the currents of time. There is something about it that feels noble. Holy, even.
So my heart wonders why I should meet this girl in a church of 30 people, most of whom were older folks. And why I should happen to be simply captured by the sweetness of her voice and eyes, her presence and laughter? And most of all, the question of what purpose could this desire have had for sneaking up on me in full force? The desire was so potent that I was honestly one step away from leaving my decision to "fast" from romantic pursuit for my year here in the dust. It is so powerful, the desire.
I find myself asking more questions of contentment and where I should let my heart settle. I do love this teaching that John gave on it, though, from his book The Sacred Romance.
"The whole life of the good Christian," said Augustine, is a holy longing.”
Sadly, many of us have been led to feel that somehow we ought to want less, not more. We have this sense that we should atone for our longings, apologize that we feel such deep desire. Shouldn’t we be more content? Perhaps, but contentment is never wanting less; that’s the easy way out. Anybody can look holy if they've killed their heart; the real test is to have your heart burning within you and have the patience to enjoy what there is now to enjoy, while waiting with eager anticipation for the feast to come... There may be times when all we have to go on is a sense of duty. But in the end, if that is all we have, we will never make it."
I'd say for myself, desire is one of the sweetest things of the soul. To sit with it and feel the full weight of it on your heart, and learning to enjoy it... is a sweet nectar.
Monday, June 9, 2008
The Weight Within A Story
Seeing mythically...
Upon first hearing these words, they sound strange. Or at least they did. When I read a book, watch a movie, or even in past years when I played a great deal of Role Playing Games, my heart really came alive. After years, I was able to put words to it. My heart craves stories. In the same way I crave food when hungry. Great stories. Stories that tell of a time when all was good, and perfect, until a betrayal... or an enemy emerges, threatening the safety and freedom of all... and then a hero, or a fellowship, must take a journey into the darkest areas of myth, to take siege and fiercely contend with the most dangerous of evils. All in hope that what was good might be restored. Why?
In almost every movie I see, or story I read, the things that my heart latches onto are the smaller things that almost seem to take place beneath the pace of the movie. The things that you will almost certainly miss by simply letting the movie play in front of you. They are the sort that you must almost look for. The lessons and desires that come when you engage the movie. I'll give you an example.
This past week, during Movie Night -where we gather the young men for a movie to begin to give them eyes to see mythically- we showed them Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. It's a really great movie, even from just an entertainment perspective, about an English naval captain and his crew of sailors who sail and battle for freedom during the Napoleonic Wars. The battle scenes, humor, and cinematography are all more than enough to make the two hours well spent. But there is so much more there. If you watch closely, you'll notice that the crew is made up of men of all ages, from young boys, young men, to old seasoned sailors. And there are many scenes where each man, no matter his age, is being trained by a man older than him. The young boys and young sailors are taught and trained by the older sailors, and as they grow in knowledge, they are given tasks that initiate them into their next level of service as sailors. They then begin to teach those younger than them as they continue to be taught by the older men. From the captain on down, this cycle continues down to the youngest on board. It is a timeless, and powerful way of raising boys to become men. They are cared for, taught, and pushed to pull their weight on board as they mature into men. This has such weight to it, and it is so easily missed in the wake of entertainment.
I began to be able to put words to what I was feeling when I started staying present with what rose in my heart when watching these movies. Movies like Braveheart, The Legend of Bagger Vance, Titanic, Cinderella Man -movies that were my favorites for so long, but that I couldn't pinpoint the deepest reasons why- ...they hold so many of the deepest desires of my heart within their chapters. Desires to be fathered, to feel a strong weight as a man, to battle as a man under a good king, to have a purpose and a place in a great story, to love a woman well and to be known, and loved, by her as well. It's all there, waiting to be found. Hidden beneath the surface.
My soul is so nourished by what I find in these stories when I look with the eyes of the heart.
Upon first hearing these words, they sound strange. Or at least they did. When I read a book, watch a movie, or even in past years when I played a great deal of Role Playing Games, my heart really came alive. After years, I was able to put words to it. My heart craves stories. In the same way I crave food when hungry. Great stories. Stories that tell of a time when all was good, and perfect, until a betrayal... or an enemy emerges, threatening the safety and freedom of all... and then a hero, or a fellowship, must take a journey into the darkest areas of myth, to take siege and fiercely contend with the most dangerous of evils. All in hope that what was good might be restored. Why?
In almost every movie I see, or story I read, the things that my heart latches onto are the smaller things that almost seem to take place beneath the pace of the movie. The things that you will almost certainly miss by simply letting the movie play in front of you. They are the sort that you must almost look for. The lessons and desires that come when you engage the movie. I'll give you an example.
This past week, during Movie Night -where we gather the young men for a movie to begin to give them eyes to see mythically- we showed them Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. It's a really great movie, even from just an entertainment perspective, about an English naval captain and his crew of sailors who sail and battle for freedom during the Napoleonic Wars. The battle scenes, humor, and cinematography are all more than enough to make the two hours well spent. But there is so much more there. If you watch closely, you'll notice that the crew is made up of men of all ages, from young boys, young men, to old seasoned sailors. And there are many scenes where each man, no matter his age, is being trained by a man older than him. The young boys and young sailors are taught and trained by the older sailors, and as they grow in knowledge, they are given tasks that initiate them into their next level of service as sailors. They then begin to teach those younger than them as they continue to be taught by the older men. From the captain on down, this cycle continues down to the youngest on board. It is a timeless, and powerful way of raising boys to become men. They are cared for, taught, and pushed to pull their weight on board as they mature into men. This has such weight to it, and it is so easily missed in the wake of entertainment.I began to be able to put words to what I was feeling when I started staying present with what rose in my heart when watching these movies. Movies like Braveheart, The Legend of Bagger Vance, Titanic, Cinderella Man -movies that were my favorites for so long, but that I couldn't pinpoint the deepest reasons why- ...they hold so many of the deepest desires of my heart within their chapters. Desires to be fathered, to feel a strong weight as a man, to battle as a man under a good king, to have a purpose and a place in a great story, to love a woman well and to be known, and loved, by her as well. It's all there, waiting to be found. Hidden beneath the surface.
My soul is so nourished by what I find in these stories when I look with the eyes of the heart.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Brothers
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...
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...
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
