The Beauty of Waves

(To listen as you read)

In light of people returning to school, going to new schools, not going back to school but doing something new and different, and transitioning in innumerable ways, I have turned my thoughts to waves, particularly wave energy.

All photos from Hawaii December 2009

In an episode of their illustrious podcast, Stuff You Should Know, Josh Clark and Charles W. “Chuck” Bryant consider the question “Can Oceans Power the World?” (episode 1/20/11)  Clearly the ocean is very powerful and full of natural energy, and while there are many interesting ways humans have learned to harness that power, some of the most basic elements of the ocean, waves and tides, have become incredibly relevant to my life lately.

Waves, to be distinguished from tides, are the movement of the water propelled by the wind.  They rise to a crest and fall to a trough, often moving in toward land.  The power of waves is all too evident when trying to surf (or body surf) on any beach-based summer vacation.  This wave movement naturally flows with tidal change, which is propelled by the moon, and modulates throughout the day reaching 2 highs and 2 lows.

So, in the ocean, we have this constant movement in and out, up and down on smaller and larger levels.  It is movement that is enacted by higher powers of wind and moon, but that contains its own power as it reacts to the initial engagement, rushing in and flowing out. 

Even this mechanical overview, not including the glassy blue sheen or the refreshing scents or constant soothing sounds, reveals the incredible beauty of this mass of moving water.

I have been thinking about this a lot as I have been preparing the past week to conclude my term as interim youth director at the church where I have been working this summer.  I am transitioning into an intern role at the same church for the school year as a new, full-time youth director takes over.  Although this summer has proved to be the most stable and consistent in my life in the past several years, this “small” change has caught me off guard. 

I have experienced the highs of God pulling me closer to Himself through this opportunity of serving and loving youth (as well as the lows that naturally accompany this movement), and the thrill of rushing powerfully on, fueled by the wind of the Spirit. 

But the wave of this opportunity is quickly coming to an end.  I will soon have ridden it out and it will return to the depths of the endless ocean.

But the truly beautiful thing about the ocean is that the waves are only momentary expressions of something bigger.  I can trust that while this specific wave of service that I have expressed is ending and a new wave is coming in for the youth at the church, the water will always be constant.  The moon will always draw that well of life upward and the wind will always blow it in with just the right timing to continue the rhythmic dance.

And in the midst of this changing of the tides, I hope that the grace of the moon and wind will be magnified in the energy of the change.  For it is only in the change of waves and tides that energy can be harnessed from the ocean.  As we respond to the way God is moving in our lives, we produce effective energy.  And as we discern how God is moving us in these new ways, I hope that we can be propelled by the energy of which we are a part.

Transition is scary and we lose something that has been a part of us, even if only for a short amount of time.  But as I hit the shore and am drug back out to sea, I know that I’m blessed to be a part of the beauty and power of the ocean and that I can participate in many ways in its unending dance.

Ultimately, I am confident that the ocean of God’s love will never stand still and I am thankful to get to stay in the same bay to continue to be a part of the life of the church, albeit while riding a different wave.  And there's always the excitement of watching for the next crest.

Reflections on Indonesia

I feel that I’ve told this story a million times already, but I realize that there are many people who supported me or are just interested in my life that I will not get to see or talk to anytime soon.  So, here is a post about my recent trip to Indonesia for those of you who want to virtually participate in the few life-impacting weeks I experienced in late May.

This is a long post.  A general outline is necessary, but the important stuff comes after that.  We had to keep a journal throughout the trip and one of the questions was: What are better questions you wish people would ask when you describe your trip?  So, I will answer a few of those too, and if you've already heard about the trip, you can skip to the end.

But first, the trip itself.

We flew 14 1/2 hours from Atlanta to Seoul, South Korea, during which I pretty much just watched movies, ate, and slept.  I tried to be more productive, but between laziness, a decent in-flight movie selection, and sleepiness, my time was doomed to be sub-productive.  We had a layover in Korea that was just long enough to go check into a hotel, sleep about 6 hours, watch some crazy Korean TV (lots of singing and dancing), and get ready to head back to the airport for our 6 hour trip down to Jakarta.

We arrived in Jakarta on Saturday night and our group of 11 split up into three houses.  I accompanied 3 of my fellow students to a beautiful house (possibly the nicest I have ever been in) and became the guest of the wonderful hosts, Daniel, Mariana, James, and Josephina.  Sunday morning we attended an English speaking church called Wesley Methodist Church in Jakarta.  It was a moving service and I immediately felt the broad arms of God drawing us together from the first song.  I don’t even remember the song itself, but the powerful feeling of global community and brother/sisterhood with strangers was amazing.  The worship was concluded with an empowering rendition of the Hallelujah chorus.  The rest of the day we journeyed around Jakarta some, stopping for a refreshing orange and coconut drink and some time at a mall before a delicious dinner.

n.b. more pictures at facebook

All the food was wonderful and I wish I was still eating it now.  Rice was included in almost every dish (really....even the snacks...yum), and much was similar to our general concept of “Asian” food with a good variety of seafood and meats in savory and often spicy sauces.  We ate very well and were constantly treated to lavish meals.  I was unfortunately sick for one whole day and could not eat anything then, but definitely made up for it the rest of the week.

Monday through Friday we stayed at a retreat center about an hour outside of the city for the seminar.  It was also very nice.  Each day we had several large group lectures over the theme of faith sharing and also broke out into smaller groups and more intimate ministry sharing wesley groups, all of which were very engaging and meaningful.  I especially prized the moments in between sessions at meals and over tea when I got to talk with some of the 100 Indonesian pastors that attended and developed friendships with many of them.  English was spoken about half the time, but many people were fluent enough to carry on conversations.  I also got to play with the worship band some and got to know them fairly well.  Nevertheless, much of my time during the presentations was spent running cameras and seeing to the behind-the-scenes stuff, which I did enjoy.

One day we got to venture out and visit with a group from a nearby university that was participating in a team/leadership building camp.  They were all enthusiastic and it was good to interact with them and get a better sense of what Indonesia is like.

On Saturday we concluded the seminar at Wesley church and had more nice meals.  Sunday we attended the english service again, went to lunch and shopping with our gracious and hilarious hostess, and attended the Aldersgate service at a different church that night.  It was a very moving service of remembering John Wesley’s warmed heart and opening our own to be stirred by God.  

Monday and Tuesday were our last days in the country and we spent them touring some of Indonesia.  We went to Taman Mini, which is a park that has representations of each traditional culture comprising Indonesia, which is a collection of many small and large islands.  We got to walk around and look at some of the houses before loading back up and traveling further out from the city to a safari.  I’ll admit that I was a little skeptical about the safari at first because animals are animals, but I had a wonderful time.  It was a lot of fun driving through and feeding the animals from the car.  I must not fail to mention our wonderful tour guide and dear friend, Raisa, who accompanied us.  She was very helpful in guiding us through a day of Indonesian fun and it was great to get to know her throughout the seminar.  Monday ended with a cultural night where we got to see and hear traditional dancing, clothing, and songs from many parts of Indonesia.  There were so many talented people of all ages and it was a joy to be a part of that culture and share in their heritage.

On Tuesday, we toured the city some more, visiting a shipyard and a steel mill owned by some members of the church.  I really enjoyed this and was fascinated by the production of the steel (and the workers dealing with the red hot metal who were only wearing sandals).  Also, it was refreshing, although slightly sad in a way, to see up close the working class of Indonesia.  I realized how pampered we had been all trip (which I am not complaining about at all :) and was grateful to be connected to the more earthy side of things.  We finished by spending some time shopping at a very large market that was a little overwhelming for me, especially given the fact that I am a terrible shopper.

Then, after a week and a half that truly flew by, we were flying back to Seoul and finally to Atlanta.  I was sad to have to leave after what felt like such a short trip, and would have gladly spent another month there at least (although I am equally as excited to be back working with the youth ministry at Decatur FUMC).

Now, to my questions:

How were you transformed on this trip?

First, my eyes and heart were opened to the amazing impact and power of unmitigated hospitality.  I have never experienced such generosity and service in all my life and am now incredibly energized to bless others in the way I was so richly blessed.  So, if you want to visit me, now is a good time.

My eyes and mind were also opened to a new culture.  This was the first time I traveled to a non-Western, non-English speaking country.  I was excited to learn new phrases, taste new tastes, and be immersed in a place that at times seemed so refreshingly different from America.  

Also, my heart was primed to beat more for those who do not know the gospel.  After seeing and hearing about the courage of the Indonesian pastors who are passionate about sharing faith in such a more difficult context than I will ever face in America, I could not ignore the urgings in my heart to be a loving presence in my own context, gently guiding as many as I can toward the good news of Christ.

What are the biggest differences between America and Indonesia?

The similarities were actually more surprising and humorous, like the fact that KFC was very popular in Jakarta, probably more so than in the US.

A major difference, which was not immediately noticeable in the city, is the Muslim influence.  Indonesia is a Muslim country with many Fundamentalist groups residing on some of the more remote islands.  Jakarta is like any big city and religion is not as big an issue as I presume it is elsewhere in the country, but I believe it is still difficult to get a permit to build a church anywhere in the country, forcing many groups to be without a building.  I heard several stories of pastors having to deal with tense religious issues, and much of the Christian outreach is primarily geared toward proving that the Christians are a non-threatening presence, so there is a lot of free rice and medical distribution and a big emphasis on establishing schools.  While many (Christians) in America try their hardest to create these issues with the fuel of distrust and ignorance, I found that most Christians in Indonesia were trying their hardest to alleviate the hateful boundaries that we have allowed to grow up between us with the strong salve of love, concern, and compassion.

One thing that surprised me was that there were wooden carts being pulled around everywhere, lots of people and kids on the streets during the day, and old shacks put up all over the place even right next to high rise bank buildings.  The scene was so different from our carefully designed cities that are comparatively well kept and neat - in Jakarta it was like two worlds had crashed together and the wreckage was strewn about.

That reminds me that there are basically no traffic laws in Indonesia.  I suppose I have also been transformed in my appreciation of American traffic laws (at least when safety is at stake), and I now know just how worse it can get - so Atlanta doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

Besides all this, I think the biggest difference is that Americans don’t wash their rice. I am only half joking, and if you really want to see how big of a deal this is, just mention it to your closest Asian friend; if you don’t have one, stop reading and go find one.

How did you experience and share love on this trip?

Primarily through the amazing hospitality, which I feel that I cannot mention enough.  I tried to be the best guest I could and graciously received such hospitality.  This was sometimes not an easy task though, like whenever one of our organizers for the trip and regional secretary, Maimuna, ate with me and all but forced me to eat much more than I was prepared for, especially after a day of being ill.

I was also able to begin meaningful friendships even in the short time we were there.  Our shared interests in ministry and the relation through Christ’s love that is stronger than any bond brought us all close together.  We were able to share worship together and participate in the glorification of God with one another.  I experienced God’s loving hand opening my heart to my Indonesian brothers and sisters.  We shared the difficulties and joys of living out our callings to ministry and shared laughs and prayers.

One specific instance of selfless love came the night I was sick.  Some of the other students were also ill that day and one of the pastors and translators, Denny, came by and saw us wallowing on the couches in self-pitying pain.  He immediately asked us what was wrong and after hearing of our stomach problems, called his baker (it was around 7-8pm) to get him to bake us some bread for the next morning.  He went and picked it up and brought it back to us that we might enjoy it after our day of fasting.  And it was very delicious  - fresh breads filled with either pineapple jam or cheese.


All in all, it was an amazing trip.  I am blessed to have had the opportunity to go and to re-experience it each time I tell others about it.

Let's Share A Story!

I spent this past weekend with four of my friends from my childhood though high school. We, for the most part, all went to school together (and were in classes together), were all in band together, all went through boy scouts together, and helped each other with whatever crazy idea was on the table at the time (building a hovercraft was one of my favorites).

I think it was the first time we had all been together in the past 4 or 5 years since high school. I have seen two of them frequently throughout the past several years, but had only communicated with the other two over long distances.

We all met in Beaumont, TX, which was about a 4-5 hour drive for me. On the way back, I had plenty of time to think about the weekend and the fun we had. As I drove further away from them and closer to home, my tired muscles and sleepy eyes were calling me to immediate reminiscence of all the fun we packed into two days together. We did a lot – playing games, swimming in the gulf, catching up with each other and telling each other what we have been up to through college.

While watching piney woods transform into open fields, I recalled the countless stories we have shared throughout our lives, including the new ones we just wrote this weekend.

My thoughts then turned to the future and the fact that this may have been the last time I saw all those guys for another four years. Those thoughts went a little something like this.

But then I thought about those stories. Not individually, but rather as a whole. And I thought about that huge four year gap in our shared stories. It is in no way a bad thing, but it made me wonder.

We are of course all facebook friends. And I have kept up with each of the other four through facebook pretty well (excluding one guy who has a profile but never uses it...who does that anymore?). Everyone knows that online networking is in no way a replacement for face to face human interaction, but I finally realized to the full extent why it could never be.

I can share my stories on facebook, or here, and I can read or hear stories shared with me by friends online in some form. But there is a huge difference between sharing stories and sharing life. As great as the internet is, I can never share life with anyone on it. I can talk to and see friends through modern technology and to an extent interact with them, but I can never truly share life in the way I did this weekend as I ate with, swam with, laughed with, and went to sleep and woke up with friends (I will avoid the phrase slept with although we did all crash in the same room).

As great as it is, I don't think the new iphone can even truly enable a sharing of life.

I realize that I can't share life with everyone all the time, but when given the option I would much rather share life with someone than merely share stories. Besides, while sharing life you make stories, and as fun as sharing stories is, making them is infinitely better.

Life or Can Beauty Last Forever?

Throughout middle school I was lucky to live very close to a friend of my same age.  Every day after school, my sister and I would hang out with this friend for hours on end.  There are, of course, drawbacks to the way I lived at this point in my life: I think it is one of the main reasons I am not a very good ‘gamer’ compared to the other males of my generation.  But I have come to more fully value these years of my life lately, especially the two or three hours after school each day. 

This friend of mine has a dad, on whom my dad, on my behalf, once bestowed the name ‘Lieutenant Larry’.  It’s just one of those things that you kind of appreciate happened, even if you don’t really remember why.  Anyway, Lieutenant Larry went through many unique hobbies during this time of our lives, and these hobbies never ceased to amaze me.  One particular hobby, which must have come at some point before our lives crossed, that sticks out to me is insect mounting, or at least collecting and decorating with cases of mounted insects.

In some parts of his house, there were cases of butterflies and other interesting insects, which were pinned down in pristine condition.  One of these was in the bathroom, directly over the toilet – so I saw it almost every day.

I did not think much about them then, but that has started to change recently.  The image of that box keeps popping into my mind.  Why do some people mount insects?  Mounting butterflies is particularly interesting to me.  Why would you pin down a dead butterfly in a box? 

To preserve its beauty?  For collection’s sake?  To use it as wall art?

And is it worth it?  Is it worth destroying the life of the creature so that its beauty may last forever?

That also makes me think of how we like to pin things down, and whether pinning down is really the best way to make beauty last forever.  Most of us, in one way or another, are even eager to pin down our own lives.  I mean this in the sense of: becoming still in the great movement of life and/or limiting our life. 

Sometimes we try to control everything within us.  We pin our lives down because we are not certain what may become of us in the future, and so we try to dictate all the small details of our lives.  We set up a barrier around ourselves that keeps us trapped inside – locked into what we think we are…or are not. 

It is also easy to become complacent and to not pursue the journey of life with all your might.  This could even come passively in the form of getting good enough at something and not allowing ourselves to grow or seek new experiences or answers - seeking to learn just enough instead of seeking to learn all there is to learn (or experience all there is to experience).  Will pinning ourselves down in this way really provide greater joy, greater freedom, more wondrous living?

Sometimes we try to control everything outside us.  We try to pin ourselves down so that we won’t be as exposed to the uncertainties and troubles of the world.  We set up a barrier around ourselves that keeps other stuff outside – the stuff that is dangerous or just different.  We are over-concerned about safety and self-containment, and in trying to preserve our life, we stifle it. 

Like if you tried to protect a candle from the wind and after too many close calls, eventually enclose it in a glass bowl.  The wind can no longer harm the flame, but before long it will be snuffed out due to lack of oxygen.

Will pinning down our lives really help us?  Will stilling ourselves or withdrawing from everything really allow the beauty of our lives to last longer? (Not that I think stillness and safety are inherently bad.)  Will that really ensure our longevity?

Think about some really delicious strawberries, or cake, or whatever makes you salivate.  You try one and it is the best you have ever tasted – sweet and succulent, so you want to make it last -  last forever, or as close to that as you can get.  So you put them in the refrigerator or freezer, right?  Put them away from harm, hunger, and heat to try to preserve them.  Maybe some inventor even invents a spray or something that will preserve food for years, so you buy that off an infomercial and use it.  But maybe you forget about them or just wait too long, because no matter what you do, strawberries (or any food) are not going to last forever.  They get moldy.  All the precautions you took to ensure they would last have actually led to their death – and a long drawn out one at that.

But, if you had just eaten them, they would live on in the energy they provided you.  They would have served their purpose.

Maybe the more we try to hold onto the status quo, the more we set up glass cases around our lives and try to pin them down in a box, the less alive we will be.  Something may be preserved, but is it really life?  Is it really beauty?

For me, the beauty of a butterfly is not necessarily the magnificent design on its wings.  Rather, it is the journey that the insect makes – a life of transformation and flight and freedom.  It is a beauty that can never be pinned down.

P.S. And no, I do not think we should “live like we’re dying” (sorry Kris Allen).  Time is not really a factor here.  It is merely a matter of fullness and meaning.  If anything, we should die like we’re living.

The Bean Parade

Here is a vision I had last July, inspired by a visit to the Starbucks in the Heathrow Airport.  Enjoy!

The last cup was poured -

Fluorescent lights flickered off.

The manager locked fast the door

And headed towards his loft.

But little did he know

That just inside his store,

One little coffee bean brightly glowed

Then more, and more, and more.

Out of the darkness of the room

The beans gathered together.

Took a glance at good friend Broom,

And promised no mess, no splatter…

Soon the beans were dancing,

But what else do they do?

Overflowing joy so entrancing;

Their fancy moves vibrate through

To all the silent, still cups

So lifeless in their form.

Even Styrofoam and plastic jump

To the beans’ frenzied storm.

“What new life is this we’ve found?”

Shouted one mug to another.

“My stiff feet can leave the ground

My now jovial, good brother!”

The tea bags soon looked in-

So proper and so posh.

“Although we know we can,

This demonstration is – My Gosh!

“We will not stand for this

Frightful fit of undecour!

Our Queen has rules against

Such unruly behaviour.”

But the beans danced wildly forth

Coming quite close to the cream.

The thick, rich, milky force

Let out a stunning scream.

“I was quite comfortable

Here with my solitary reason

Until you came and made unable

This selfish, blissful heaven.

“I’ll never join your dancing,

I’d rather sit and suffer.

I’ve moved far past your silly prancing

To ways much more strict and stiffer.”

“Amen!” the beans replied.

“You have you way and we ours,

But if ever you’d like to try

You know we’ll be around.”

The sweet cake sat posed and still.

With icing of five flavors.

Her prideful, rooted, bashful will

Kept her from mussing her layers.

“It’s just so silly, all your movement,”

She muttered shy and coy.

“I would just die of embarrassment

In joining in your ploy.”

“A fool’s dance this night may be,”

The excited beans shot back,

“If in foolery you humbly see

Just how much self we lack!”

As the beans approached the fruity reel,

The banana timidly said,

“My perfection lies ‘neath this peel.

If I could have just a few moments to shed

“This soiled and dirty, brown and splotched

Forsaken coverin’,

I can join in this scheme you’ve hatched

Showing pure yellow beaut’ within.”

“My fruity friend, we cannot wait!

The dance must go on.

You bear this burden – such heavy weight;

Cast it off! There’re new clothes to don!”

Meanwhile:

The muffin was undressing

To show her rounded top.

Knowing it is a blessing

To be so smoothly cropped.

“Good God!” cried the scones,

Features so angular and calculating.

“That curvy, crafted dome

Of Ms. Muffin is quite teasing.”

So enraptured by the sight,

This party failed to notice

All throughout the night

The beans’ true joy and focus.

So the scones looked lustfully on,

Feeding some external pleasure.

Moving, but some strange false form

That didn’t match the beans’ full measure.

“We can hardly keep contained

Our well placed decorations.

Chocolate chips and blueberry beads leave stains

No matter how perfect their situation.”

The beans danced toward the cold ice box

To catch some relief from the heat.

They found respite on the frozen water rocks,

But could not wake them from their sleep.

They bumped into Mr. Milk –

A whole gallon, galore!

And offered him a few kicks

On their store-wide dance floor.

“Who me?” Milk asked,

Quite surprised by the offer.

“But… I’m always last;

And people typically don’t bother.

“You see, I’m a little heavy.

The whole floor will shake.

I sweat quite profusely;

And when warm, I’m quite rank.”

But the beans, they persisted;

And gave milk a gentle shove.

Although clumsy and jug-twisted,

The dance he did love.

And the beans danced wildly on

Through all hours of the night.

Without tire, without groan –

It was ever such a sight.