Picture by Frederic, Lord Leighton 1830-1896
The Philistines try to trap Samson in Gaza by securing the city gates; he is locked in, so they think. But Samson lifts the gates with his enormous might and carries them to Hebron, 40 miles away! It's estimated that these gates may have weighed over a thousand pounds. In Bible times the gates of cities were considered the symbol of their strength. By removing the city gate Samson caused Gaza great humiliation. Samson did this at Midnight.
I read all of this in my morning devotion time in response to a leading to read this chapter. Recently I have been thinking about reviving our Midnight Madness prayer time at our youth church, mostly in response to Jesse, one of my leaders. this scripture confirmed that leading.
Strange time to be taking the gates of the enemies but it's a promise in Genesis 22. Right after the LORD has provided a substitute sacrifice for the life of Isaac. An angel of the LORD calls out blessings to Abraham from the LORD because Abraham did not withhold his son from the altar. Among the blessings, he declares, “And your seed shall possess the gate of his enemies."
let us pray...
 

He who finds a wife...

I just wanted to say that I am a happily married man. It's too bad we don't hear that enough these days. It will be 15 years this July and marrying LeeElla was the best decision I have ever made, besides yielding to the call of Jesus. We have been through a lot over the years but I would not have been able to make it without her. When the Lord called Eve a helpmate, He chose a really weak word in my opinion. That word doesn't even come near describing the actual reality of what a good wife can bring into ones life. I just wanted to give her some props for being such an amazing woman of God, loving mother and my best friend. Luvs to you babe.

Killer Kona

Caesar once, seeing some wealthy strangers at Rome, carrying up and down with them in their arms and bosoms young puppy dogs and monkeys, embracing and making much of them, took occasion not unnaturally to ask whether the women in their country were not used to bear children; by that prince-like reprimand gravely reflecting upon persons who spend and lavish upon brute beasts that affection and kindness which nature has implanted us to be bestowed on those of our own kind.

There are 41 references to dogs in the Bible ... and most of them are negative. As a dog owner, I can understand why. Reference the above photo of canine culprit example A: Given name-Kona. AKA: devil dog, bean head, beaners, kona beans and walnut brain.

She shreds for a living and chews like a redneck cowboy or a 9th inning pitcher.
She targets items that she knows will exacerbate and drive me to flashing outbursts of anger that force me to exercise the fine line between be angry and sin not...a line that seems to get extremely blurred in such visceral moments.

She stinks like a dog too. I know that seems to be a no brainier but in the fever of need, when you are under the childhood nostalgic spell of the doggie dream...you forget such olfactory assaults.

She finds the need to bark at all the moments when I would wish for silence. Usually right in those spaces of time when all the 5 children have gone to bed, got knocked out or are enjoying a quite moment of TV with the mute button on (mandatory during blood sugar crashes).

Oh don't forget the crap and pee...oh glorious patterns speckled throughout the once pristine lawn, now poor testimony of a fountainous bladder. Nothing like mowing over a mound of hidden poo, ummmm delightful!
But on and on I could bemoan my plight but to no avail because I am a canine junkie and what kills me seems to give me a dance of delight as well, so I am a slave to my pooch.

Hanging out at the park. 

10 things you would hate about John Wesley

I love this kind of stuff.
The more I read about plain old people the more I realize we are all a bunch of messed up puppies in need of a whole lot of grace. Man loves to idealize man but in the end man is fallen, even religious man.

Why crowbar massage?

Dues where dues are due:
Crowbar Massage is credited to my friend George Gostavich from way back in highschool.
It was a fictional name thrown out one day for a band that stuck in my cranium.
Nothing ever came of it to my knowledge but to my little brain it became a treasured little expression that embodies my yin and yang.

Ah the crowbar...It can be used for good or evil.

It's great at opening locked things, like a stubborn trunk, crate or a closed mind or chained heart.
You could scratch those places that only a crowbar could reach for yourself or others.
You can wield it like a Jedi master and liberate oppressed people or fend off an attack by a one-eyed poodle facing a neutering appointment that afternoon.
You could hang a few things from it too...like your boxing gloves and just relax with a cup of tea while playing soft feminine music in the background.

I also want it to be the name of my metal band.
It will be my zine name also.
It would make a good book title for my first publication.
I could see a clothing line in the future...black tees with white lettering.
How about a record company, film studio and a drink....inhale deeply here and....

WARNING!!! KEEP YOUR DIRTY LITTLE HANDS OFF MY IDEAS, YOU INSPIRATION PARASITES!

sorry...a burst of fear came over me.

Anywayzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....on and on I could wax painfully ineloquent or I could just say:

I've moved from dreaming, to making something happen and it seems a crowbar is what will get the job done.

There R U happy? >:P

T-Dono

One of my very best friends Tim Donovan and His family came up from Portland, OR. for the weekend. It was great to hang out, shoot some pool and spend time with our families together. At 6 foot seven, he is my tallest friend. Thanks for coming bro...it was good.

Tons of pictures...

You can find a whole lot of pictures (over 600) of our life and ministry here.

What age will you die?

Take this quiz to find out.
Mine said I would die at 82.

A dance or a sword?

You should never give a sword to a man who can't dance.
-Old Celtic Proverb.

This quote really moved me this week when I read it in The Barbarian Way by Erwin Mcmanus.
It spoke to me about joy and being a man that first knows how to dance not just war. Being a leader who has the dance at the center of his life not the sword. The first miracle of Jesus was making the best wine around. He started his ministry with the dance of God.
Joy was the christening image of this new era, new gospel...new man.

Joy is one of the most elusive graces to me...but a song the Lord has been desiring to teach me to sing for a while. It began a year or more ago with a great season of spiritual renewal, a sweet time of refreshment and prophetic intensity that extended for months. Within that time the Lord poured new wine into my weary and dead soul. He fed me with fresh bread and breathed hope into me about the future. It was one of the most exhilarating times in my spiritual history. For a short season I tasted a joy that I had only sipped on previously, it was deeply satisfying.

Little would I know the darkness that would engulf me in the following season. The previous season became a frightfully dim guiding star that has barely helped me navigate the last handful of months. When I read this proverb the Lord tenderly touched my heart again, like seeing land after a long windless sailing.

Yesterday I sat thinking about this proverb and wondered to myself...When will the Lord give me a sword. When will God see a dance in my heart?

That very afternoon this ax came in the mail from my Dad.

God you have my ear...

Do not go gentle into that good night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

 

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

By Dylan Thomas

The stories that we love

...We have to go to the stories that we love. The movies you love are telling you something about the role that you were meant to play. My favorite movies are not my wife's favorite movies, and my son's favorite movies are not my favorite movies. They're unique to us. We are drawn to stories of a certain kind, stories that speak to our heart. And this will be absolutely mind-boggling, eye-opening, revolutionary, if you'll allow the possibility that the reason that you love those stories, somebody may love the story of Joseph in the Scripture; well, it's because you probably are a Joseph. Someone may love the story of The Return of the King in the Tolkien series, and they particularly love the warrior hero Aragorn. Well, it's probably because you were meant to be a kind of Aragorn in your life.

The stories you love will do two things for you: They will open up and illumine the story that God is telling, they will help you recover the larger story, and they will also tell you something about the secret written in your heart. Stories that you love will reveal something of the role you were meant to play.

-John Eldridge

Pitifully true for too many of us... 

Some men are like reverse baboons.
Baboons have hair all over their body in copious amounts but are buck naked on their rear. Some men, like me, have hair all over their body in frighteningly excessive amounts but are buck naked on their head. If we sat in a crowd of Baboons and bald men and some sat on their heads and some on their butts...I am not sure if you could tell the difference between some of them! What was God thinking...?
 

Micah is such a such a goofball. 

Sea of glass...

The womb of the dawn
3.17.05

Sea of glass mirrored in the face of the dew,
The womb of the dawn it cries out to You.

Under Your feet lies a prophesy,
A day breaking, a light burning, a hope returning.

A sparkling dream falls every morn,
A vaporous promise rises back,
Breath of fairies, the whispering dance of the virgins.
A hidden message from Your heart.

A silent shedding of heavens tears.
No thunder echoes its coming.
Lightening can’t traces its path.
A quiet beaconing that will too quickly pass.

Glass slippers for our feet,
Each morning worn but cannot keep.
The path of God quickly fading,
Glistening voice for them that are waiting…


This was a prayer/prophesy/song that was woven out of these verses this morning in my time before the Lord. It speaks of a prophesy for the youth of this generation, they belong to the Lord and each morning He speaks to them in the dew of the dawn. As He walks on a sea of glass, so do we each morning and that glass calls to Him to be faithful to His word.
-Eric

In front of it (the throne of God) stretched what seemed a sea of glass,
like a sheet of ice.
–Revelations 4:6

Your people will volunteer on Your day of battle. In holy splendor, from the womb of the dawn, the dew of Your youth belongs to You...
-Psalms 110:3

Nations will come to your light
and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
-Is 60:3

Let all who love thee, be like the sun rising in strength.
–Judges 5:31

Tea...I used to drink tea all the time. Earl Gray was my usual drink of choice. Hot, no sugar or cream just straight tea. There was something ascetic about it that I liked. Plus no one else seemed to drink it, so I was feeling very countercultural. I'd be hanging out with the peeps and the hostess says..."what would you like to drink?" Peeps say..."Mt. Dew, Pepsi, Coffee etc"...and then out of slightly dark corner, from under the brim of his oversized hat, the mysterious stranger whispers eloquently with a hint of an almost English accent...Tea please, Earl Gray tea.
 

Christianity is strange

Christianity is strange; it bids man to recognize that he is vile, and even abominable, and bids him want to be like God. Without such a counterweight his exaltation would make him horribly vain or his abasement horribly abject. -Blaise Pascal (Pensées)  

Avant-garde...

Big Mike...budding underground filmmaker from the upper westside of the bohemian town of Odessa, WA and a great blogger too.

A movie about a holy man who travels to the Norse men and joins them on a search and destroy mission against an invading demon clan based on the prophecies of a Norse soothsayer. It's Braveheart violent, it's gritty, bloody and epic.
It's all about a man who learns to fight with his own sword in his own way.
He learns to speak the language of those he is called to war for and among.
He learns to face his fears and open his heart to a culture and people not like his own, until he is willing to die for them.
It was a NOW word for me...wrapped in cinematic flesh.
 

Naked Tug-O-War...

One of the books I am reading right now...last half is better than the first in my opinion.
So far it's not as wild as the title suggests but it has some real good stuff laced through out.
It's an easy read and worth reading if you like the Wild at heart kind of stuff.

The story about the naked men at the mens retreat was awesome! I laughed out loud at the thought of seeing a bunch of naked guys playing tug o war...oh some people get to break all the rules and get away with it. Imagine the religious uprising that such an act would cause in most churches. We have our own "naked man" at our mens retreat (I won't name names but you know who you are). I thought it was mere antics of a shock jock...now I know that there is a spiritual spin on it too...Get the book, it's worth the money.

Still standing in the Blogolosseum....

So why do I read and write blogs?

I think it's in our primordial blood.

I am full of words and the spirit within me compels me;
inside I am like bottled -up wine, like new wineskins ready to burst.
I must speak and find relief;
I must open my lips and reply.
-Job 32:18-20

In the beginning was the word...simple as that.

It's built within our nature to communicate with others, to share, commune and reveal, to disclose and pronounce, to speak into the void and create. It's THE IMAGE in us...We were created by word, wind and dirt and all three find expression in this technological "little e"...eden.

For me the interaction with and within the swirling amniotic waters of this ever growing digital womb;
has helped form me in ways I wouldn't have experienced;
if I hadn't taken this high speed global expedition.

I have been set free from my geographical, socioeconomic, religious and geo-political boxes. I have been allowed to go adventuring, exploring and the walk has done me good. It's led me to connect with people in ways I would of never been able too in the past. It's taken me literally to other continents through the connections made here.

But...there is something more for me in this; the net is also a new era "Blogolosseum".
It's adversarial.
It's a place to wrestle, attack and be attacked without the shedding of real blood. That might be a pro or con, I am not sure? Net anonymity has a liberating and castrating effect on some. It can put words in an otherwise silent mouth or turn a virtual kiss into a Judas kiss in the click of a mouse.

It's a very naked high dive experience that everyone can see but only you can overcome the willies and take the plunge. Will you find a community noose that yanks you into a violently expulsing display of your tender innards or a pool of rebirth that transports you to the highest planes of incandescent lucidity?

Probably both...but there is something very reincarnational about it all.

Your phoenix rises out of the ashes of your flaming experience and you find your hide thicker from the verbal tanning. You are more keen and shrewd because of it all. A wizening of the serpent has taken place that wouldn't have happened unless you came out into the open air of the Blogolosseum.

Take hold of the flame...

We see the light of those who find
A world has passed them by
To late to save a dream that's growing cold
We realize that fate must hide its face
From those who try
To see the distant signs of unforetold
Oh... oh, take hold

From a haze came a rage of thunder
Distant signs of darkness on the way
Fading cries scream of pain and hunger
But in the night the light will guide your way
So take hold of the flame
Don't you see life's a game
So take hold of the flame
You've got nothing to lose, but everything to gain

Ride, to a place beyond our time
Reach, for the edges of your mind, and you are there
See, that the light will find its way
Back to a place where it will stay, make it stay

Throw down the chains of oppression that bind you
With the air of freedom the flame grows bright
We are the strong, the youth united
We are one, we are children of the light

So take hold of the flame
Don't you see life's a game
So take hold of the flame
You've got nothing to lose, but everything to gain.
-Queensryche

(My most recent iTunes download for my iPod...Thank God for the iPod!)

Revenge...

Ooooooh the movie trailer last night was so awesome!
Revenge Of The Sith opens on May 19th!
Next to the LOTR, these movies make my blood move.

Polywogs and mushrooms...

"It so happens in the mud and slime of the river Borborus, when the eye of the sun hath long dwelt upon it, and produces frogs which begin to move a little under a thin cover of its own parental matter, and if they can get loose to live half a life, that is all; but the hinder parts, which are not formed before the setting of the sun, stick fast in their beds of mud, and the little moiety of a creature dies before it could be well said to live.

So it is with those Christians, who will do all that they think lawful, and will do no more than what they suppose necessary; they do but peep into the light of the Sun of righteousness; they have the beginnings of life; but their hinder parts, their passions and affections, and the desires of the lower man, are still unformed; and he that dwells in this state, is just so much of a Christian, as a sponge is of a plant, and a mushroom of a shrub; they may be as sensible as an oyster, and discourse at the rate of a child, but are generally short of the righteousness evangelical." - Jeremy Taylor
(ouch...thanks Dad, I think?)

Walking...

Henry David Thoreau on Walking:
"I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks, --who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering: which word is beautifully derived 'from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretence of going a la Sainte Terre,' to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, 'There goes a Sainte-Terrer,' a Saunterer, --a Holy-Lander.

They who never go to the Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. But I prefer the first, which, indeed, is the most probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land from the hands of the Infidels.

It is true, we are but faint-hearted crusaders, even the walkers, nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old hearth-side from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the spirit of undying adventure, never to return, --prepared to send back our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms. If you are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again, --if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free man, then you are ready for a walk."
-From: Purse Lip square Jaw (The photo is from my trip to the Grotto in Portland OR.)

amen...

Christianity is strange; it bids man to recognize that he is vile, and even abominable,
and bids him want to be like God. Without such a counterweight his exaltation would make him horribly vain or his abasement horribly abject." -Blaise Pascal, from Pensées

Today's prayer:
Remember, merciful Jesus, That I am the cause of your journey.
-Mozart's Requiem

I'm hooked...

It's Stallone month...I recently picked up his new men's magazine SLY and watched his new boxing reality show last night, The Contender. The show was awesome! I haven't been that pumped during a show in a while. I was so rooting for the underdog last night and he won...what a great fight that was. I am sooooo hooked (pardon the pun).

More alive than you...

Some of this guys cartoons are brilliant in my opinion.
See more of them here, warning: not all are very positive or ready for the church bulletin but...
I like them nonetheless. I like the simplicity of them, the sharp wit...probably very similar reasons as to why I like quotes. They are like small arrows, they pierce where bludgeoning blows of narrative are easily dodged.

So deep, I'm drowning...

You may never reach the summit; for that you will be forgiven. But if you don't make at least one serious attempt to get above the snow-line, years later you will find yourself lying on your deathbed, and all you will feel is emptiness...I've seen it so many times.

Call him Ted. A young kid in the big city, just off the bus, wanting to be a famous something: artist, writer, musician, film director, whatever. He's full of fire, full of passion, full of ideas. And you meet Ted again five or ten years later, and he's still tending bar at the same restaurant. He's not a kid anymore. But he's still no closer to his dream. His voice is still as defiant as ever, certainly, but there's an emptiness to his words that wasn't there before.

This is an excerpt from probably the best article I have ever read on creativity. You can read it here if you dare. Simply profound and masterfully written in parts. It's not a Christian article and does contain many offensive words and such but if you can throw out what is crude there is some amazing wisdom throughout.

What Super Power?

If you could have any super power, what would it be?

Elasticity:

Flying:

Amazing Strength:

Ice:

Force Fields:

Invisibility:

X-ray Vision:

Invincibility:

Breathing Underwater:

Utility Belt:

Super Speed:

Weather Control:

Bulletproof:

other:

With a set of pipes like this, I simply could not resist downloading the new CD by the recently reunited Judas Priest. It's called Angel Of Retribution, a theme based album that completes their Sad wings of Destiny album. The verdict still is out for me. I am not sure what I think, it didn't blow me away as much as I hoped it would, but it has some really good moments too. A few songs stink and a few are a bit too dark for my tastes.
But there are some choice selections...Judas rising, Deal with the devil are two of my faves on the project. Judas Rising opens with some screaming guitars and Rob Halfords second to none metal vocals come blazing through like a jet engine roaring out of a bombing sweep. Peeling the pop music pruned skin right off my pudgy middle aged face.
I just love to hear a good screaming metal song...not the guttural wails of most metal these days that sounds more like someone possessed than singing. Most stuff sounds like Freddy Krugar singing songs with leatherface than good hard rock, it gives me the creeps.
 

Here is the ceiling in the Bellagio hotel, made of stain glass. 

The Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. LeeElla took this picture during her recent trip to sin city. 

Happy birthday to you... 

Micah about to blow the house down.