Present

I’m feeling thankful so I want to write about it. Not that it’s a rare moment but I want to capture it. Gratitude can be fleeting. So can good friendship. I want to cherish both, even if I have to discipline myself. Seems reasonable.

I love that gift that keeps on giving. That sounds like a good marketing line. It is. But I’m becoming a believer. For Christmas, my Dad likes to get me, among other things, a Starbucks Gift Card. While it’s a simple, little stocking stuffer, it carries a $75 value.

And, yet, I’m finding greater value than its monetary worth.

Honestly (and gratefully) I’ve come to anticipate the Card. He’s made this his practice for several years.

Dad remains one of the easiest, enjoyable, and respected people I spend time with. I just like who he is, even if our words are few. And since we aren’t living in close proximity, the gift is a cherished reminder of his presence.

He doesn’t let too many people close, though he’s lived in the same city his whole life. He has lifelong histories with people, is respected, and well liked. But he would still rather do you a favor or feel helpful than ask anything of you.

His present has been his presence. Steadfast. Generous. Accommodating.

I’m traveling in an airport, “alone”. While not hard to do, I spied the well-known green shield. Money’s been tight, schedule is full, and company is scarce but his gift…makes him feel present.

I imagine the conversation. I enjoy the company. Dad pays most often anyway, so this is familiar to let him sponsor my morning indulgence over deeply roasted goodness.

We’re a couple of months removed from Christmas morning. I can still feel the warmth. The social drink of choice in our home growing up was & is coffee. So, part of my enjoyment is sentimental. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve taken my day off to practice renewal. I sit in a coffee shop – enjoying his present, along with a book, and some welcomed anonymity. Again, a reminder of the gift that keeps on giving.

Just a couple of months removed, I spent roughly two-thirds of the balance. That’s kind of revealing. I think that qualifies me as a needy, if not a user. But, thankfully, I think there’s more where that came from.

I look forward to seeing him again soon. And, yet he’s helping me see better.

Pragmatism

I’m kind of an aesthetic. I notice décor in most environments. It often reflects a distinctive at the same time some current. It’s kitschy yet not uncommon. I appreciate the vibe people can create in street cafés, fashion boutiques, personal living spaces, galleries, gardens, and spiritual life centers.

For the most part, I’m also a fan of body art. The permanent etchings and piercings that further define uniqueness are something I consider often for myself. My practical, understated sensibilities seem to betray my aestheticism.

A friend recently asked my, as we walked through a part of Austin where it appears the base line for local residents, “do you have any tatoos?”. It was at that moment, I realized why I don’t. It’s not that I have a moral conviction, lack the artistic vision, or even the financial capital. My hesitation is that I know myself. I know myself well enough to know that it a few short years, maybe less, I won’t like it. My style changes. Frankly, I don’t trust myself. While I don’t think I’ll end up wishing I never got a tattoo, I know I’ll wish I had a different design.

My style is pretty fluid. It’s that sense you might get that, if you were a rockstar, you’d reinvent your look with every album cover. Even now, I’m writing on nice furniture we bought three years ago. A friend hooked us up with a great deal on nice, some leather, furniture. Problem is, I don’t think it’s that cool, anymore. It’s nice but I’d definitely pick something different I had to do it over again. Am I just fickle or is this an evolution of self. I’d like to think I’m getting cooler but I’m probably just getting older. I find that’s true for many of my clothes but those seem less permanent.

Nevertheless. Let’s return from a self-deprecating tangent.

I think this is also why I walk into some faith communities and feel like I’m suffocating. Something good was started and it got stuck. It never grew into anything but, perhaps, the self-preservation of what is. Problem is, static never thrives. True faith is inherently active. So, what does it say about our faith communities that stagnate.

Faith is a peculiar proposition. To be sure, it is foundational. Yet, I find it more fluid than static. I’m curious about the invitation Jesus gave for a better way of life. It’s seems reasonable and timeless. But as he proclaimed a Kingdom in the here and now, that the Kingdom is within, how can that rest on static arrival of a decision to follow?

I love imagining myself, my family, our faith community being an active part of authoring a little bit heaven on earth.

I Saw The Light On Dirty 6th

There’s no shortage of hole-in-the-wall clubs, bars, and eats that line 6th Street in downtown Austin. In fact, few cites can rival the concentration and quantity of live music venues. Live music is the norm. It’s the destination many a nights for a largely 20-something crowd. East 6th has its own particular grime, reflecting a heavily trafficked college scene. But this was South-by so all bets were off. A stage is a stage and the audience can swell in short order.

Enter the tangent. Jesus came proclaiming the present availability of the Kingdom of Heaven. His declaration inaugurated a new reality by suggesting that this life – this world – can be reclaimed, restored, and reconciled. No longer is heaven an alternative location but a new reality in which he invites creation to live into.

John’s narrative (as in, the Gospel of John) reiterates four themes embedded in the mission of Jesus’ tenure on earth – Light, Life, Love, and Truth. Again and Again, he fleshes out these themes both subtly and pointedly. They are his four descriptors for the incarnation. But it doesn’t end there. The invitation Jesus gives for a better way of life is that, like Christ, we would also become a reflection of that Light, of that which gives Life, of that which resounds with Love, and which shares Truth.

So I’m standing in the back of a tiny club, which means I’m only about 50 feet or so from the stage. It was packed with enthusiasm and bodies. A-listers shoulder to shoulder with commoners gathered under the banner of appreciation.

One after another, emerging talent stepped up, like a musical share fest. Music that felt as accessible as the artists themselves.

It’s been said that art imitates life. I love it when art interrupts life. While enjoying the company of friends, a lyric rung out above the bar chatter that captured me—“the miracle was not walking on the water…”. A soulful black man playing an acoustic guitar sung it out like an anthem. “The miracle was not walking on the water…”. Hardly the place I expected to be reminded of my Sunday school stories but by this point, he was piquing my curiosity. And again, “the miracle was not walking on the water…”. At this point, the singer/songwriter I came to know as Chris Pierce, had my undivided attention. I audibly asked, what is it? He answered me on cue, “…the miracle is walking on the earth…step by step…day by day”.

Light was peeking through.

“Where can I go from your Spirit? 
Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” Ps.139:7-8