| Of a year gone by and family |

As last years studies gave way to summer classes, and summer classes gave way to fall classes, and fall classes eventually gave way to Christmas break, I can look back on the year past and be glad for so much. Beyond being my graduating year (finally), I'm just so glad for family. Perhaps it's cliché to say, but the prayerful support and endless encouragement from my wife and best friend Emily and from my wonderful parents (all of you) has meant so much this year. This year especially - I would say - for this year has been busy and bumpy, cluttered and chaotic, like moguls and like big air. It has been a year to remember for God has done so much good, and He is truly working in Emily and I for some pretty gnarly things (that's right, I said gnarly). It has also been a year to forget as there has been growing hurt and resentment amidst loved ones.

Yet in the midst of it all, this cast of family has been so supportive. Even though visits have been fewer, and family seems so far away at times, we persevere knowing that our families love us and are proud of us.

And it wouldn't be a Christmas blog if I didn't tie it into the birth narrative of the Saviour. The child Immanuel, come to dwell among us, to save us, to proclaim freedom to the captive, sight for the blind, healing for the sick; all to welcome us into His family.

Well, back to work. Another hour and a half of Christmas Day at work. Thanks for reading.

| Making time for tears |

In the last week I've rekindled my long lost love for music. I'm the type of person who can go long periods of time without really listening to any music. Today, while driving in the car, I happened upon Hello Kelly's No Time for Tears, a song about the effects of a broken home and broken family.

Lead singer and writer Francois Goudreault of Hello Kelly writes this piece from the first person, depicting the breakdown of vows and promises while he himself has no time for tears. Expectations mount and troubles reach record highs, yet he is unable to truly mourn the situation. He's so caught up in it all as he's the product of a segmented family where both parties put forth their best effort for normalcy.

During the bridge of the song, he writes,

I can't blame you it's not your fault, you've thrown away this time.

I can't blame you it's not your fault, and everything you have is dying.

You can't blame me it's not my fault, and God knows that I've tried.

You can't blame me it's not my fault, and it's not on me to make this right.

Lately I find myself so willing to throw blame around. People in my life have caused so much hurt to those around me. The ugly nature of divorce is that there is blame and hurt, but ultimately it's simply a situation wherein all parties experience pain and all are in need of forgiveness. However, Francois so beautifully articulates that it's not on the child to make it right. Ultimately, parents have to step up and show their children that they love them.

I fully intend to be the sort of dad who loves recklessly to the point of irrational pursuit. For me, I model this off of God's unfailing and unceasing pursuit of his children. But I'm not perfect and I'll inevitably fall short. The important thing is that I never give up pursuing; love does not give up.

While Francois entitles this song No Time for Tears, I think that tears are so important for the process of mourning and moving on. I might even say forgiveness hinges on the ability to really mourn something and then let it go. Making time for tears is needed.

Cheers.

Here is a link to the full lyrics:

http://www.newreleasetuesday.com/lyricsdetail.php?lyrics_id=42039

Here is a link to the full song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkX4bG0kvh0

| Of broken telephones |

While I may have one of my most daunting exams ahead of me, my mind is not quite focused on the course material right now. In fact, I cannot quite get over how very interesting social habits are, especially within certain circles. I cannot fathom the necessity for talking about people behind their backs when those same people would love to engage in a conversation to clear things up and to bring healing. (I'm speaking intentionally in generalities here, not wanting to single out my intended recipient...but you know who you are.)

I simply must vent. I think that is the problem. We all feel an internal desire to express ourselves. When frustration mounts to a boiling point, we simply must blow off steam. When life is overwhelming we find someone to talk to or to find support from. Yet I wonder why it's not possible to go to the root of this mounting frustration and simply deal with the problem. It seems altogether rational for this type of approach.

Alas, this is not the case. And I find myself the source of slander and slur alike. Like wildfire, people casually (yet secretively) pass on the hearsay; like a game of broken telephone, the message changes slightly with each transaction.

But this I know: I'm here. I have a phone, and it's not broken. I have many ways to be reached. If you harbour ill feelings for me, let's talk.

That's all.

| Of headaches and helpful hints |

I have a headache.

It's the type of headache that beats to a slow monotonous pulsating beat in the back of the head.

I'm also not the type to take medication for things of this nature. I usually try to determine the cause of the headache before I resort to any external solution. Whether it be dehydration, fatigue, or that my eyes are sensitive to too much light, there are simple non-medicinal solutions to these problems. Water, sleep, or a little shut-eye, these always seem to help.

But I've downed three or four glasses of water, and I've tried to have a nap, yet nothing is working. Thus, fast-action-Tylenol it is. And while I was lying there trying to have a nap post-pill consumption, the thought came to me: this pain is my body's way of telling me something isn't right. It's not groundbreaking thought, but it gave way to many others that I think are pretty thought provoking.

Humans in this day and age are all about instant gratification. Physically we want fast-weight-loss. Emotionally we want a good book that quenches the thirst of the soul. Spiritually we want our dose of God once a week that keeps us in check, but doesn't impose on our lives. But we all experience pain. It's how we deal with this pain that interests me most. For most of us, our knee-jerk reaction is to dull the pain. I'm speaking first of physical pain - like that of a headache - but this of course is indicative of how we treat emotional and spiritual pain as well. When physical pain strikes, we try our best to relieve the pain - often by medical means - but sometimes by natural means. We are uncomfortable with pain; we are not designed to enjoy suffering. But I'm not so sure we're meant to rid ourselves of all pain.

Even after contemplating Brave New World anew, the idea of a pain-relief drug with no side-effects, hangover, or consequences, does not appeal to me in any way. And I must wonder why. Perhaps I haven't experienced the excruciating headache that is debilitating and keeps me up all night. I've never broken a bone or had an injury that truly incapacitated me. But pain is a gift. It's one of the ways our bodies tell us that something is amiss, that something is wrong and in need of a checkup. And if this is the way our bodies communicate to us physically, surely this is also the way we are let in on our emotional and spiritual deficiencies. Whether it be guilt, grief, or loneliness, pain tells us that something isn't quite right.

But I wonder - like our treatment of headaches - how we treat our spiritual and emotional pain. Do we become apathetic toward it, hoping that one day it will just go away? Do we lash out on others hoping that this will somehow hurt others and even the playing field? Do we slap an Oprah or Dr. Phil bandaid on it and hope for the best, knowing full well that a simple self-help solution will only cover up the infected wound that is festering and mutating? Do we really believe that the pain we are in will just go away with time?

It's time to tell ourselves that there is only one healer in this world. He is the one who, by his hands and his voice, created the very world we see. He created human beings, knowing the intricacies of flesh, mind, and spirit, and only he is capable of truly resolving the source of pain in your life. He's what we christians call God. Maybe you know him.

| 2 Corinthians 1 |

Hello world,
New sermon up. May you be comforted and blessed as you consider the role of suffering in your life. http://www.wellspringtoronto.ca/church/Podcast/Entries/2010/11/28_Nov_28th_Steve.html

Cheers.
-steve

| My bread and butter |

I'm beginning to notice a trend in my own train of thought. You see, it seems no matter where I begin in Scripture, when it comes to preaching I eventually end up at a message of hope. Perhaps it is because my own narrative is formed out of hope and framed by hope. Of all the vices, hopelessness has played a minimal role in my life. Thus, when I read a text, and when I prepare a sermon, I eventually end up at hope. The hope of the gospel, the hope of the resurrection, the hope of a new day, of a new moment, of a new heart, of new creation itself, hope is such a key idea in the stories of our lives and in the metanarrative of the good news of Jesus Christ.

Even when I start pondering how I eventually end up at hope, I start preaching. Sigh.

So I wonder; is there more to life, more to preaching, more to inspiring a congregation to peace, to love, or to a sense of urgency for this dark and broken culture? I'm not sure there is. To me, hope is the backbone for all of these things. As soon as the disciples of Jesus ceased hoping, they fell back into the mundane; they became powerless and empty. After seeing the resurrected King, they were reinvigorated and refueled to go out and minister.

So consider that this Christmas season. What is your hope? And if you find yourself struggling to put your finger on it, take a look at Hebrews 6:9-20, with a specific look at Hebrews 6:19.

Cheers.

| Of soap-operas, safety, and security |

Admittedly, I've been watching this corny yet intriguing new show Hellcats. It's a show about college life, with a Legally Blonde feel to it as the protagonist is a law-student doubling as a cheerleader. It's a show that shows the hardship of college life, of a girl who doesn't have the money to make it, but she has the determination and the doppleganger skill-set to make it big; it's a show about overcoming obstacles and hardships. As a result, I like it. Cheesy as it may be, it is my new favourite show, sitting behind my all-time favourite Survivor.

Today I was procrastinating, sitting in the Tyndale Seminary lounge watching an episode, and I was rocked by the depth of the conversation I was listening to. Two students were dialogging college life, and how it's so easy to get caught up in it all. The one said, "Lancer [the college] is beautiful. The campus is paradise, it's like a drug. It's easy to forget what's going on out in the world. And sometimes I think it would be great to just lock that big iron gate at the entrance and stay here forever, safe and clueless."

For me, life here at Tyndale is almost over. Perhaps I'll pursue my Masters here at Tyndale in the years to come, but for now, I set my gaze just beyond the graduation cap and gown, just outside the "big iron gate at the entrance", knowing that I cannot stay here forever. The comfort of this place is addictive. The chapel services are phenomenal - complete with exceptional sermons and worship that makes your stomach jump a little. The community life is something I've not become submerged in, but good friends litter these halls, and I'll miss every one of them.

Beyond this place, the real world eats up young up-and-coming pastors. When I finally move beyond the 'pastoral intern' title in search of 'senior pastor' or 'associate pastor', churches will be waiting like wolves ready to chew me up and spit me out. The comfort of being a student - of being in the process of learning - will be lost to me. Certainly I'll never stop learning, but I'll no longer be able to use it as an excuse.

It's a scary reality, but a reality I look so forward to. Unlike the characters of Hellcats, I cannot wait to shake this place and run headlong into ministry. I cannot wait for the exhilarating rollercoaster that awaits Em and I. Joy and sorrow, hope and despair, comfort and suffering, these all await us beyond the "big iron gate at the entrance". If only the church had the same hopes, to move beyond the "safe and clueless" environment of Sunday service into the world as sheep among wolves.

| Coffee is no substitute for Sleep |

As I sit here nursing a coffee at my kitchen table on this lovely windy day, I have come upon an obvious truth; coffee is no substitute for sleep. While coffee may help temporarily restore wakefulness when experiencing fatigue or drowsiness™, it is no substitute for the real thing. It may be the most beautifully tasting beverage in the world, but it still remains only a beverage, ever falling short of the bed-and-blanket-bundle that so invigorates my life.

So what's my point? In a world of artificial sweeteners, false senses of security, prayers for the mere placebo effect, and for temporary restoration to the problem of life, the only cure is rest. But "rest in what?", you say. Rest in Christ. It is one thing to go out bearing the mantle of Christ - going and doing, and going and doing. But at the end of the day, if we fail to recognize the wind in our sails, the strength for our going, the passion for our doing, or the rest for our souls, then we have missed something so crucial about this thing called Christianity.

Look at the life of Jesus. He was a guy who went out teaching, proclaiming, healing, and working wondrous miracles, but at the end of the day, he retreated to be with his Father above. Many times in the gospels, Jesus is the guy retreating from the crowds to be in the presence of God.

I'm especially mindful of this in the busyness of my own life. I may be the guy going out and doing the work of Jesus Christ, but if I don't return home to experience Christ in the sweet silent sensational moments of contemplation and peace, I'm missing something so vital, so refreshing, and so magnificent. Consider the Christmas season as it swiftly approaches; take time in the hustle and bustle of sharing the good news of Jesus, just to grab a warm blanket (perhaps before a fireplace) and draw near to him. Nothing is a good replacement for God, not even coffee.

Thanks for reading.

| Reinvigoration through Recalibration |

Alas, I feel that the funk is subsiding. The fog is lifting and the words are flowing once again. Papers are being written, love is being shown, and I feel I can breathe new life again. And as I look back on the week behind me, one thing stands out as a driving force for this turn around: when I get back to the basics, when I rediscover my passions and I stick to them, everything else falls into place.

For starters, ministry is a double-edged sword. It can be the passions and the driving force for going out and doing, but it can also be that which hinders the same. Too much emphasis on what's not working in ministry can be draining and exhausting. And yet a simple visitation over coffee and lunch can recalibrate ministry, that it's all about a God who loves His people so much that He wants to commune with them. In this light, all that I'm called to do is love on people, listen to their stories, and speak God into their lives. It's really that simple.

The other major contributor was rediscovering my role as knight extraordinaire for my darling wife. (http://make-me-meek.blogspot.com) In the face of despair and frustration, I was able to step up, defend her, seek justice for her pain, and speak the light of truth into a dark situation. I really truly believe that God has called me to speak truth in hard situations, and this has recalibrated my heart; I am reinvigorated and ready to go.

God is good.

Thanks for reading.

| I hate Christmas parties |

Last year in November I had the opportunity to preach on Isaiah 9, the great passage that a light will dawn out of the darkness, that unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall rest on his shoulders. It was an Advent sermon at Wellspring. I say this because it provides some context to how I see the Christmas season.

Quite like the glimmer of light and hope that the prophetic birth foretold of the Saviour of the world offered, so too is the Christmas story. Quite like the darkness, the captivity, and the warfare that surround this early Isaiah prophecy, so too is the Christmas season. We live in a world that wants to take the only light out, perhaps to replace it a light bulb or an LED; our world desires to take the baby out of the baby story that transformed history past, present, and future. It's for this light that I love Christmas. Even the word itself seems to break down into Christ (the person, the Messiah) and mas (a communal celebration); it seems to imply a party for Christ.

So if you have heard grumblings about me being a grinch or a scrooge, put it into this context. I admit I have no care for trees or decorations, for themed cards or for catchy jingles. To use two Relient K song titles - one a truth for me and the other a fallacy - I hate Christmas parties and I Celebrate the Day. I do celebrate the day; I may celebrate it differently than the masses, but I celebrate it nonetheless. And I don't hate Christmas parties. So long as that light is not ripped away and replaced by some other light source, (and so long as the decorations aren't too over the top), I'll be there, eggnog in my hand, glad that I have such an incredible family, and glad that Jesus is King over hearts, even though He's lost some ground in the holiday season.

| Hmmm...I dunno |

While my wife Emily blogs about the lyrical wonderment of "I need you like a hurricane", I myself find myself needing to settle down the hurricane that has taken up residence in my life. As with all hurricanes these days, I have given mine a fitting name: Hurricane Steve. Sure, we can all agree that it is by no means an original or creative name, but it is fitting, for the storm of my life is seemingly (and most likely) self inflicted.

Juggling has never been my forte; I've never really been able to juggle, and attempts to prove my inability usually lead to bruised fruit or dented cans. And perhaps you're wondering how I got from a storm/hurricane metaphor to a juggling metaphor? Well this is my life right now. It is a mixed bag of metaphors. Between work, school, family, and church, I have spread myself so thin that I feel the need to introduce a coping mechanism in the shape of playing a video game. But I do not play a single video game through to its completion. That would be too easy. No, part of this coping mechanism is the constant introduction of a new ideo game just as the old is losing my interest.

Back to the hurricane. In a meeting with my pastor the other day, we somehow got to talking about being stuck, and how to get "unstuck". In a book by that same name, he showed me several patterns and several keywords relating to being stuck. The word 'overwhelmed' hit me. I knew that was what I was experiencing. The associated pattern or diagram showed a jumbled up mess of things inside the circle; it was a pattern that showed me that my life had too many areas that required my attention (and not merely paying attention, but paying close attention). And this is where the hurricane again works. In a hurricane, some run, some scream, and others turtle in door frames, hoping that the storm passes. I fall under the last category. I have withdrawn and become empty inside; I have no energy to face the day, and my frustration mounts as a result. I rely on coffee, and then more coffee. I think of the story in the gospels where Jesus calms the storm by mere verbal directive. But is that even possible when my own busyness is the reason I'm overwhelmed?

I need to move some things out of the center of my life. There are too many distractions, and too many things to deal with. The problem is, what? What can I pay less attention to? Neither God, nor family, nor work, nor school can really stand to lose any ground in my life. So, I write and I ponder. Perhaps one day the storm will simply pass. Hmmm...I dunno.

| Matthew 24 |

Another sermon. Check it out if you so desire.
http://www.wellspringtoronto.ca/church/Podcast/Entries/2010/10/17_steve_oct_17th.html

Cheers.

| Robotic Blogmancing |

It's been awhile since I wrote anything in a free-fall style, so tonight is that night.

It's the night before I preach again, and I'm pretty excited. There is always a sense of nervousness, and perhaps a restlessness as I ponder anew just what it is I do. Preaching and teaching are my favourite things to do. And even as I recall a Bill Hybel's article on recharging your batteries, I'm reminded of how we feel recharged and renewed when we work within our particular giftings. For me that is preaching and teaching.

One of the great benefits of having my heart and head in the word looking for connections and ascertaining just what the Spirit is saying, is that I get to learn so much. I get the message first-hand and the congregation gets it second-hand. It's been "used" by my heart first. Tomorrow I'm really hoping to challenge the congregation with a sermon on two parables in Matthew 13. I'm really excited about the way in which these sermons work together. There is first an emphasis on submitting to the authority of the word in our lives. Then there is an emphasis on going forth with that word. Then the second parable speaks about how to live as people of God among the world.

My courses at Tyndale keep challenging me on the notion of this "Clash of Civilizations"; the main thought being east vs. west or Christianity vs. Islam. So you might say this is wearing on my heart a bit, and I'm excited to touch on this idea tomorrow morning. What does it mean to live as wheat among the tares? (Matthew 13:24ff)

Thanks for reading.

| Smelling Like Sheep? |

Lately I've been pondering the social dynamic of church as it concerns me. The pastor of a church is called to be a shepherd to a flock, but at what point is the shepherd just like any other sheep, I wonder. I read a devotional for a class of mine from a book called They Smell Like Sheep wherein the author placed a heavy emphasis on the shepherds intimacy with his flock to the point that the shepherd smells like his stinky dirty sheep.

To this I began pondering my own sense of self, my own sense of pastoring, and whether or not I can really do that. I'm often too much a perfectionist to get down into the muck and the grime; I'm too concerned with my own appearance, my own pride, and my own ability to bring about change. I'm coming to realize that shepherding isn't simply about the rod and the staff - discipline and comfort - for it is also about being a sheep too.

Perhaps I've fallen too far away from the notion that I am a sheep too. I've become this monster of a shepherd, intimidating his sheep, petrifying them into inaction, and debilitating the flock. Exaggerate much? So maybe it's not that bad, but if I keep down this path, surely this exaggeration will become reality.

I'm coming to realize that the social dynamic of the church (as it concerns me) is that I'm not some distant and removed mover of chess pieces about a board, I'm just another sheep who's been called to get down dirty in the muck, encourage, exhort, and exemplifying what it means to be a sheep set apart for God.

| NHL 10/11 Picks |

I have decided - as I do every season - to put my NHL season standing picks online.

The East...

1*. Philadelphia

2*. Washington

3*. Buffalo

4. New Jersey

5. Pittsburgh

6. Boston

7. Tampa Bay

8. Toronto

The West...

1*. Vancouver

2*. Detroit

3*. Los Angelos

4. Phoenix

5. San Jose

6. St. Louis

7. Chicago

8. Edmonton

*indicative of a division leader

Your thoughts? Your picks?

| Potency in Prose or Poetry |

When I prepare to preach, I often find myself pondering the power of the word of God. A single verse - a mere sentence of prose or poetry - possesses the potency to truly transform a life. And where some quotations fall under the "one person's trash is another's treasure", Holy Scripture - the God breathed living word - is applicable and appropriate for all. And where some books may contain only a handful of truly "quote-worthy" phrases or sentences, our Bible is jam-packed full of juicy gems, just waiting for us to hear them, receive them, and apply them.

When I prepare to preach, it is this amazing word that I try with all my strength to surrender to. Even that is a funny thought; in ordinary and mundane circumstances, surrendering is the active-absence of strength. Whereas in the spiritual context, it takes all of our effort and all of our strength to truly set aside our pride, our knowledge, and our wisdom in order to surrender. With the word of God, it is this determination to place ourselves under its authority and in surrender to its potency, that yields the best results. We need to actively place His word above our own.

Consider that when you open your Bible to read what God has for your life.

| The World Wide What? |

Friends, familia, and familiar readers alike, I am excited to tell you that I have broken through the vast divide of the world wide web. I present to you a sermon on Jeremiah, spoken to Wellspring Worship Centre on August 29th, 2010.

http://www.wellspringtoronto.ca/church/Podcast/Entries/2010/8/29_Steve_Coupland_Jeremiah_38.html

May you be blessed as you listen or as you feign listening.

Cheers.

| A Wednesday Freefall |

Contained, constrained under my skin is an enigma of emotion.

It longs to break free; it desires to burst forth, surging like a wave.

But, like a wave, its raw power is beyond control once it is unleashed.

Even though I long to share with you, to care for you, and to dare to be free with you, I fear letting go.

Should I let down the gate, be free from the constraint, and give way to the wave of an emotional hurricane?

A wave becomes a tear, emotion leaving behind fear, and as joy overtakes apathy, hope becomes clear.

So consider this all, when I'm being honest, when I'm raw, that I'm not always so free, so spoken, so me.

| Another New Heavy Day |

In a follow-up to my last post, I wanted to clarify a few things.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel; there is hope for a mountain top experience after every valley. More than the sad reality of living in this world, searching after mundane things, this song is about that light; it's about feeling light, burden-free, and new again. As Christians, we seek out the new. We ask for new hearts, a new and clean slate, to be newly created, new opportunities. Sometimes the new seems a lot like the old. Perhaps God is telling us to cash in the old before the new is available. To use a random metaphor, get rid of the old and grungy couch before you try to fit a new couch in that same room.

So this is what this song is about: we need to give up and surrender the heaviness of days past in order to truly accept the new day without all the heaviness we associate with it. This is precisely what is meant by the oft-used phrase, "Lay your burdens at the foot of the cross."

As for me, the combination of school and work has tired me out. Every day blurs into the next (save for a few truly memorable ones). Coffee has become the life that carries me through the day. So for me, this song was about that. For some, it might be about the cyclical nature of sin, how they can't seem to shake it, and how it makes their newness feel heavy and burdened.

Thanks for reading.

| A New Heavy Day |

A song.

Written on the tenth of August.

Despair. Hopelessness. Anguish. Heaviness.

May I be light again; may I be burden free. May I soar on eagle's wings.

A New Heavy Day

Verse 1

It’s a new heavy day, I open my eyes, the sun seems too bright

And while some may say, it’s a gloriously warm light

I can’t stand the heat, even though I’m so cold, and I’m so alone

I can’t break free, from this numb existence, this new heavy day

Verse 2

It’s a brand new exile, trapped in this nine-to-five-repeat

We nod and we smile, we laugh and we joke as we eat

But I feel no joy, I feel no excitement, I’m groaning inside

But I feel no hope, no escape from this cyclical numbness, this new heavy day

Chorus

So take in your hands

All of my apathy

And replace it with joy

So take in your hands

All of my emptiness

And replace it with hope

Instill in me passion

Instill in me joy

Give my life purpose

Give my life more

I come as I am

Broken and weary

With my hands offering

This new heavy day

Cheers.

| Bread of Life |

This song has been on my lips all week. It was written by a guy named Jeremy Boyd, played on a cd by the once-known-band Enochstatus from my hometown of Peterborough. I hope it speaks to you as it has spoken to me.

~

the bread of life to me

you are, the calmness in the storm

you are, always there for me

you are, the only one I need

and I, have nowhere to go without you

I have one to hold

and you're all that I want

you're all that I need

you gave me a home

you fill all my needs

and where ever I go

you with I will know

that I'll always have a home in you

| Mishewhat? |

The theme of early morning prayer for the week was "ride the wave". As the evening chapel message focused on identifying and recovering from burnout, it was fitting that the leadership team ride the wave of the Spirit throughout the week, relying on the Spirit's power and not our own.

Well my wave has crashed. Emily had been fighting a cough and cold all week and I managed to avoid any symptoms of it. We returned home on Saturday, I preached on Sunday, and today I am feeling distraught and achy. My throat is sore and I feel weak. Like the wounds of one who has fallen off a surfboard, I have fallen hard off the wave.

But I have to tell you, I would do it again in a heartbeat. The way that God moved this past week, the spirit of prayer, the very heartbeat of God beating like a drum guiding our worship of this same God, all of this really blessed my life. Hopefully it blessed the lives of the other campers too.

I came to camp absolutely terrified of working with teenagers, and the most bizarre thing is that I left with a sense of peace about it all. This is not to say that I feel God calling me to youth ministry - for the call to be a preaching, teaching, church-planting pastor is still very much my heart - but it does tell me that God was working in my life this past week and that I'm not as old as I think I am.

I may not be the most eloquent swimmer, and I may struggle to lunge off of an overhanging branch into a pool of water that looks to me like certain death, but I think that I came away with some friends, and friendship is not something easy to find in this crazy world.

Camp Mishewah definitely has a place in my heart. I'm hoping that God opens up doors to allow Em and I to return next year. Perhaps the first week of camp? We'll see.

| There is no other stream |

Draw back the curtains and hear these words. A girl named Jill has just entered the magical world of Narnia. She is thirsty, so she heads into the forest in search of a stream. When she finally finds a stream, she is terrified because a lion sits beside it. The lion tells her to come and drink.

"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.

"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.

"Then drink," said the Lion.

"May I - could you - would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.

"Will you promise not to - do anything to me, if I do come? said Jill.

"I make no promise," said the Lion.

"Do you eat girls?" she said.

"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.

"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.

"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.

"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."

"There is no other stream," said the Lion.

Beauty bursts forth from this reading, deep rich theological beauty. Ponder the Biblical image of water, of a well of living water, of the stream flowing through the heavenly city. Move from here to the story of John 4, wherein we see an encounter between the Son of God and a woman at a watering place, at a well.

Furthermore, think about the symbolism behind meeting someone at a well. Look back through the stories of Jacob and Isaac meeting their wives at wells. Relationships find their foundation in encounters at wells. The woman of Samaria encountering Jesus is no different. Surely she is not the future wife of Jesus, but marriage is a discussion at the well. She has had many husbands; she has had a pluralistic lifestyle. Yet John 4 is not a lesson about marriage, for it is one about worship, and worship is about relationship.

I urge you to consider the woman of Samaria and the discussions she has with Jesus. The discussion of living waters is but one part of the story. Worship is the point that Jesus is building to. Just as marriage is a relationship built between two people, so too is worship. The backdrop of this is that history tells of the Israelites falling into Baal worship and Molech worship, thereby forsaking the worship of their God.

In the story by C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair, Jill desires to go and find a different stream. She is terrified of the Lion. She has the fear of God inside her, wrecking havoc on her mind and body such that she is immobilized and afraid. Yet the choice before her is life or death, the stream, or no stream. "There is no other stream."

This is the beginning point of Christianity. We must realize that God is the only stream, the only source of life, and the only hope in a dark and unknown forest. We must meet God at the well, and although we may be terrified at His majesty and power, at His ability to consume us and devour us, and because He detests sin, we must take hold of our trembling legs and take a drink of the living waters that spring up inside of us a well of eternal life. This is faith and fear and devotion and worship wrapped in one amazing choice.

| Perceptions and Proximity |

Another Chronicles of Narnia moment struck me the other day. I was reading through Prince Caspian, specifically when Lucy finds her way to Aslan in the middle of the night in the clearing just past the dancing trees. None of this is really that important, but it does help a bit of context. See, Lucy has returned to Narnia after being away for a year.

What happens next is the most beautiful little bit of theology I ever read:

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."

"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.

"Not because you are?"

"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."

Perhaps this doesn't seem like a big deal at all. But think of perception and growth. Things that seem monstrous to us as kids are not all that big once we grow up; things appear smaller as we grow bigger in proportion. But this isn't the case with God! With God, the older we get (or the deeper our faith), the bigger God grows in our eyes.

A verse such as John 14:21 suddenly pops for us, that if we keep God's commandments, we love God, and if we love God, He loves us and reveals Himself to us. The more we grow in God, the more He reveals Himself to us, and the more we see of His grandeur.

Our desire to read up on something and learn all that we can learn so that we can conquer it (like Math, for example) does not apply to God. The more we delve in, the bigger He gets. It is no wonder that people who have lived their lives in service to God, and who now face their death bed, do not fear, for they have such a real and accurate perception of God.

Perhaps the idea of walking closer to Him works as well. In the beginning we are onlookers from a far off. We may not see God at all. When we finally do see Him, He is but a tiny speck in the distance. The deeper we venture in our faith as we follow after Him, the bigger He becomes. Our perception is proportionate to our proximity.

Well, that is all for now.

Cheers.

| The Grand Story |

For one of my classes, I was required to answer twenty questions on the book of Jeremiah. This one was concerned with where the book of Jeremiah fit in historically. Emily convinced me to post it. Hope you enjoy it.

The book of Jeremiah often alludes back to creation, for God is the one who inspired the world to be. He created people and dwelled among them. These same people turned against Him, beginning the cycle that humans would continue in for centuries and centuries: transgression, fear, remorse, and soon repentance. God called these people out of Egypt back to Himself, and the covenant people were given laws so as to instruct these children as to right conduct and living. They were led, hand-in-hand, provided for by God as though by a nursing mother, to a land of plenty which would be theirs to claim. There they pushed for a king to lead them, like the other nations, and soon thereafter a king set out to build a house for God. After king David, the kingdom split into two factions, further separating themselves from God and from each other. The north and the south were ruled by different kings until eventually the north was conquered by the Assyrian arrmy.

To this, the sister nation of Judah should see the error of Israel and repent. However, this was not so. Judah, like her sister, became a harlot in God’s eyes. Judah was poised to be overcome and destroyed like her sister before her. But the story of God was never about destruction, for wanton destruction does not bring glory to God. Since neither of these nations was able to bring glory to God and both had shamed His name, something had to be done. The great vine of Israel and Judah, that God had planted and grown, was in need of pruning, perhaps even fire was needed to burn off the dead and rotten branches. Restoration, not destruction, was on God’s mind. He would bring a broken and weary people back to Him; He would draw near to those that had transgressed His law and sundered His covenant. And like the releasing of slaves after seven years of service, God would release His people from their exile in Babylon after seventy years. The edict of Cyrus would bring His people back to their land where they would await the Messiah. The spurned and jealous lover of our soul would come to earth, incarnate in the flesh, to dote His bride. The story comes full circle, as all stories do, with newly created bodies in a new creation reality: the wedding supper of the Lamb is the reality of complete and perfect reconciliation between God and His people. He will be our God and we will be His people, forevermore.

The story of Jeremiah fits historically within the siege of the southern nation of Judah and its prized city Jerusalem. The prophet Jeremiah endures the pain of a people who forsake him and want his life, and this brings him closer to the God he serves. Both suffer rejection, but rejection is only temporary. The story of Jeremiah encompasses and alludes to the grandeur of creation, the love of the eternal “I am” God, and the story of redemption and reconciliation of a nation that far precedes and anticipates the final redemption and reconciliation of all nations. What a book, one like I’ve never read before.

| A Lion of a God |

So the most beautiful thing happened to me lately: I found the Chronicles of Narnia boxset for $5 at Goodwill. Naturally Em and I purchased the set and I indulged immediately. I had never read any of these seven wonders of the world before, and I am glad for they are a breath of fresh air to me.

I really do believe I could preach through these books; they contain such rich imagery of God. At one point, C.S. Lewis describes the creation of Narnia by means of the Lion's beautiful song spreading forth across the land. However, what struck me the most was the character of Aslan the Lion.

You see, the wording Lewis ascribes to the Lion, that he is both beautiful and terrible, astounds me and I find myself marvelling at the depth of it all. On one hand the God I serve is a beautiful God, and beauty springs forth from His every action: creation, covenant faithfulness, incarnation, suffering, resurrection, and new covenant. This beauty calls to us, His creatures, and beckons ourt hearts to reach out to Him.

On the other hand, all the very same time, the God I serve is terrible, not in a Robert Munsch "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very. Bad Day", but in a manner similar to terrifying, where the root terror points us to the fear of God. This term, 'fear of God' is hard to fathom, for so often we preach a God of love (as in 1 John, that God is love), but on the other hand He is a God who is worthy to be praised; anything less would be a disgrace and a dishonour. There is an innate expectation of fear for He is not simply a royal figure, He is the King of kings, the Lord of lords.

The dualism, the creative tension of the beautiful and the terrible Lion, it is truly a brilliant depiction of God. Furthermore, consider how a Lion cleans a wound. The textured and fierce tongue of the Lion is like the discipline of God, sometimes rough and uncomfortable, but it is necessary for our growth and healing.

| The Dark Night of my Soul |

Verse 1

The sun breaks through the skyline

The chaos of the mourning

The daybreak brings news

That you’re still gone

The sun brings light to sorrow

You never made it this far

The heaviness on my heart

Drags me to my knees

Verse 2

My heart is beating faster

My hands are feeling numb

I can’t believe it’s over

That you’re gone so soon

Light penetrates my window

Lands upon my floorboards

Yet I sit still in the corner

Holding back my tears

Chorus

And this is

The dark night of my soul

When nothing matters

And I’m on my own

My prayers

Shatter on the ceiling

Can you hear me

In this my darkest hour

Verse 3

Restraining becomes tiresome

My tears begin to flow

And even though I’m hopeless

I know there’s hope

I stumble to my feet

Walk over to the window

For once the sun brings comfort

I’m not alone

| Creative Tension |

When I ponder God's justice and his mercy, I must ponder them in their separation and then in their unity. For justice and mercy appear at first to be but opposite ends of a spectrum, yet the Bible insists that God is both just and merciful, and he is the complete measure of both. This is what is meant by creative tension.

Creative tension is the act of holding two seemingly opposite ideas in your hands at the same time; it is the meshing together contentious ideas to see that they were designed to be together.

It is the recognization that God is both king and daddy, lord and saviour. As our king he is above us, beyond us, our master, and the one we pay homage to with our lives. Yet as our daddy, he draws close to us, instructs us, offers us care, and loves us unconditionally.

Yet somewhere at some point in time, we have watered down our theology and set aside our servanthood in favour of a God who simply loves us. We have set aside the Lordship of our Trinitarian God in favour of a feel-good story of sacrifice for us that lacks a reciprocal response. It is our responsibility (and it should be our desire) to look upon our God as our Lord and our Saviour. For He is not simply the one who loves us and saves us, but He is also the one who calls us to pick up our cross and follow Him. We are called to serve our risen Lord. Lordship demands following Him through the muck and the mire, in all situations, and not simply because He loves us.

Yet the comfort lies in Jesus as Saviour, not as Lord.

Similarly, creative tension is required for the ministry of the Church. This seeker-sensitive model of Church waters down the truth of the gospel in favour of an overemphasized love. Yes, love is unconditional, and the words 'overemphasized' and 'love' ought not to be beside one another, but truth is just as important and for far too long it has been compromised and set aside.

Liturgy, hard-to-swallow-sermons, the difficulty of the call to fishers of men, the impossibility of the sermon on the mount, these things have fallen to the wayside. It is so much easier to sing songs of happiness, to preach sermons of God's love, and to send forth the people to have a good week instead of actually calling them to change the world.

God has called us to be people of truth and love, not one, nor the other, but both. This is our call to creative tension.