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| i'm not sure if any one reads this...but i figured i'd create an online echo if nothing else.
on the 13th of february...my beautiful wife gave birth to a wonderful little girl.
her name is lillie grace. she weighed 7 lbs 9 oz and was 20 inches long.
we are amazed...here are a few pictures [she more wonderful in person]
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| in the past few days i've encountered how useless words can be. i could write. but to what gain? have i ever felt this alive? i am well, what more can i say?
this however, is worth it's words.
a mennonite response to prohibition...
"jonas martin's uncle abraham martin of the groffdale congregation, at ninety-nine the oldest minister in the conference, was quoted in the papers shortly before he died as saying that the majority of his people would vote against the proposed amendment. the point was not that they approved the results of drunkneness but that the political process was not the way they believed the church should deal with problems. beyond this was the fact that the older mennonite attitude had for centuries favored nonabuse rather than abstinence." [the earth is the lord's page 681]
ps - your grandpa's grandpa had love for the bottle.
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'i am always ready to learn, although i do not always like to be taught.'
-churchill
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| Revolution
A Call to Battle
Throughout history voices have risen to awaken people from the passive slumber which lulls them dangerously close to abandoning their destiny, seducing them to live for the temporal pleasures of this earth. Such voices are seldom welcome with open arms. They shatter the darkness and overthrow the status quo – they are the voices of revolutionaries – they are the voices of those who dared to stand alone, believing for something more. We stand in this hour as one such voice. The Church is sick, dangerously self-centered and increasingly irrelevant to the world that surrounds it and devours its children. In this hour we say, “No More!” No more will we sit idly by while the city burns. No more will we wait for a solution to emerge from those around us. This is the time, the time to arise and apprehend the reality that we will be held accountable for how we fought for this generation of souls on the earth. We will be held accountable for how we treated the Bride of Christ! No more will we sit idly by, waiting our turn while those around us continue in the control and manipulation that has castrated generation after generation of leaders in the church. No more! No longer will we wait. No longer will we apologize for acknowledging this need for change. To simply succumb to the familiar patterns that have defined this church over the last 100 years in our nation is not acceptable. We must step into the revolution we know in our hearts is right! It is time!
Today we issue a state of emergency within the Body of Christ. The Revolution has begun. Let every man decide where his allegiances lie. For life and death hang in the balance and freedom’s price demands our blood. May every soldier count the cost, forsaking the comforts of inoffensive living and conventional wisdom, loving not our lives unto death.
We consecrate ourselves this day to the Lord as intimate warriors who will fear God above man, rejecting all attempts to preserve what God is breaking - both in us and in His Body. We violently oppose every man-made kingdom and commit ourselves to the radical abandonment of everything that hinders love within the Body of Christ, to violent intercession, and to intimate worship.
 [this is the heart cry of harbinger. we sat in a hotel in downtown san
francisco and began to dream. what if he's starting a revolution? if we
were to articulate a battle cry, what would it sound like? and these
are the words birthed in that moment. words that were not our own. we
stand in awe. we sound the trumpet. what else can we do?]
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| it's 1.35 in the morning. a couple weeks ago, my wife, myself and a few friends began a journey. we've began what we affectionatly call 'the nightwatch'. we've begun to gather every night, from midnight to six am to worship and pray. to strum guitars, paint pictures and fall asleep. it's a messy kind of christianity. one where we're unsure of the outcome. what will this do to me, to us, to our city? stirred by the prophets of old, the offering of a never ending burning, we lay our lives on the altar. [messy, mistake-prone, beautiful] my wife sits across the room from me, lets the simple cords she strums tell a story. she is stunning. her bleeding heart before the master is a lovely thing. a beautiful dying.
i guess i'm going to start to chronicle the journey. to tell someone, anyone who will listen, about our mistakes and victories. about the poetry and prose of a christ-led obsession. the dreams and fears of a couple kids who are just crazy enough to think that staying up all night is a worthwhile pursuit.
it's no sacrifice, here's my life. | | |
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