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A Confession, of sorts (notice the tongue in cheek)

Okay. I have a confession to make. It's a moment that I realized I have a deep dark part of me that surfaces daily. But I must tell the whole story so you get a sense of my depravity...please read with great understanding as I bear my soul.
Here we go. As many of you know, I ride a motorcycle as my primary means of transportation. I ride a 2001 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Standard with Thunder Headers and Thunder head pipes. It's not just loud, it's a deep throaty loud that every bike should sound like. There have been times when I've started "Harley" and the sound has caused women to scream from being startled and children began weeping, covering their ears, and running. It's so loud and deep that as I rode to the "office" one day, my wife was at the bank drive-thru (around behind the building) and she heard me ride by.
Anyway, I digress. My schedule is as such that it's usually mid to late dinner time before I head home in the evenings. And some nights it's later. And my usual traffic pattern is to ride by a restaurant that is in my neighborhood. It turns out there is an employee of that restaurant that has a white Ford Mustang with an alarm that is sensitive enough that my bike will set it off. It has become a daily event for me to see if I can set that alarm off with my bike. As I ride by it, I drop a gear and accelerate until I see the Mustang's headlights start flashing (since I can't hear the alarm because of the bike). It's a regular part of my day to set that alarm off. Well, last Friday, as I watched the lights flashing and imagined the horn honking, this evil laugh escaped my lips..."Mwuaah hahahaa!" Then it occured to me: what if the kid who owns that Mustang thinks there is something wrong with his alarm and keeps taking it in to get it worked on? What if he thinks that someone in our neighborhood keeps trying to break into his car at work? What if he thinks his alarm doesn't work and quits setting it? All because I enjoy setting it off...Does it make me evil if I enjoy, nay seek out, setting this alarm off daily? What do you think?
Well, there it is. My dark secret is out. If any of you know where I could find help for this devious addiction, please let me know.

My Little Dare Devil

"My little Dare Devil" When I say this, you probably think of the boy child, but it's not! Last night, Cayla, Jeremiah, and I went to our local amusement park for a school-wide event. Now, our kids think Joyland is a lot like Six Flags, but it's not. It's actually like a permanent traveling carnival. And most of the time, our kids want to ride the little boats that go in circles, or the little cars that go in circles, or the little planes that go in circles (you see a pattern here?). Well, last night I almost "tossed my cookies" riding the big rides with Cayla. She couldn't get enough! Jeremiah had met up with some of his friends and was riding rides he normally wouldn't ride. But the peer pressure begins early, and he went with the guys!
Cayla, however, spent most of her time riding with me, running from big ride to big ride, unable to get enough. She rode the big rollercoaster 3 times, the tilt-a-whirl twice, the Octopus, and several other lose your lunch kinda rides. There were some great moments that stood out to me as she and I rode together. Both times included me looking at her with her face in the wind and hair blowing back. She had this look of enraptured delight as she squealed with glee! The one moments that typified the night happened on this ride that we call "The Umbrella Ride." It's a ride that goes in a circle, but the circle is at a 45 degree angle to the ground, so it goes from ground level to about 35 feet in the air. And, although it's going in a circle, it's at a HIGH rate of speed so you feel like you are launching into space with each pass. Imagine a ferris wheel on steroids and leaning severly and you will have a pretty good picture. She was sitting on my right, with her legs extended into space, hair blowing straight back, and her eyes squinting. We were on the downside of the circle when I began to watch her to make sure she was having fun. As we bottomed out and started the upswing, her mouth curled into this elated smile and a squeal came out as she leaned her head back just a little. I'm sure she was imagining flying. I, too, was lost in the moment. But my joy came in seeing my little girl enthralled by the experience. As the ride began to slow, she looked at me and said, "Again!" I told her there were many more rides, and if we had time we would come back As the ride stopped, she looked at the attendant, an older man probably in his mid 60's, and told him, "Thank you." Then she took off running for the next near death experience. As we went back to The Galaxy, the big rollercoaster, she looked at me and said, "Thanks for cancelling your trip to come to Joyland with me." I was supposed to be meeting some friends to talk church planting and spend some time dreaming, planning, and being encouraged. I had actually told the kids we couldn't got to Joyland because I had to be out of town and Caryn had rehearsal. They were upset, but had been gracious to me since we were going to schedule something special later. Circumstances began to pile up on me yesterday morning, though, and my trip had to be cancelled because there was much to do here. Little did I know that Cayla would have such a good time. And I would have never guessed that she would understand enough to be grateful for cancelling the trip.
"My Little Dare Devil" was why my trip needed to be cancelled. And, because of last night, I see her in a different light. Usually the last to try new things, she really surprised me. I learned I have to help her see the upside to the new things, and not just ask her to do them. I can really see her heading into the dark world to make a difference for the Kingdom, hair blowing in the wind, mouth curled in a slight smile, and squealing all the way as she launches into the adventures of life. I also learned that I can slow down and enjoy the ride and not be so ready to rush off to the next thing. Some rides should be enjoyed twice! I'm glad I stayed home.

My Own Theme Music

Du du da du da du...Sing it with me...
So maybe having a radio on Harley isn't the greatest idea...or it's the coolest thing ever. I have a habit of tuning into the classic rock station here every now and then to see what's on. I love the old Boston, Kansas, Rush, etc.
Well, twice this week "Bad To The Bone" by George Thuroughgood and the Destroyers came on while I was riding. On a big black Harley, when that song comes on, it's like having your own theme music. You slow down a little bit, settle into your seat a little deeper, and just know that you are who he's singing about!
Of course, the converse is true, too. Just after that, Sammy Hagar's "I Can't Drive 55" came on...and the next thing I knew I was zipping through traffic to the pace of the song...

The Work Of God

"Then they asked him, 'What must we do to do the works God requires?' Jesus answered, 'The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.' So they asked him, 'What miraculous sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our forefathers ate the manna in the desert; as it is written: 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.' Jesus said to them, 'I tell you the truth, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.'" - John 6: 28-33
The generations before us had a reputation for hard work. Our grandparents, for the most part, were known for their "pick yourself up by your boot straps" mentality and work ethic. Such is their reputation, that their generation was named "The Builder Generation." It's an attitude that permeates our American culture. When it comes to social justice, benevolence, or welfare, most USAmericans believe that you get what you earn. And we, like them, often times shift into "make it happen mode," knowing that God helps those who help themselves (that's not Scriptural thinking, though). I know that I find myself in that mindset often: If I am going to succeed or survive, I've got to do more and do better. I awoke this morning amazed at the fact that I have a house to live in, and took a certain amount of pride in the fact that I make my house payments and I am a provider. I actually earn enough money to provide a house, utilities, clothing, food, cars, etc. for my family. And it feels good. Then, during my quiet time, I came to this passage. Isn't it funny how often the Bible speaks to us in a relevant and timely fashion? In my morning of triumphant thinking, God brings His Word to my mind to remind me that I do not really provide for my family. It's Him who provides. The Jews of Jesus' day were guilty of similar thinking. They had given credited Moses for their provision instead of God. And now they were asking Jesus to provide for them like Moses so they would know He was from God. As always, Jesus' response is prolific: I am your provision. Initially, they ask Jesus what work they must be doing to be in good standing with God. He tells them that God's work is to believe in the one He has sent. So they tell Him, "If God sent you, provide for us." And Jesus reveals His nature to them as the provision they are seeking. That ought to be comforting, wouldn't you think? But, by the time this dialogue is over, Jesus has offended everyone and only His 12 remain. Does the thought that it's all up to Jesus offend you? Your gut reaction may be an emphatic "NO!" But think about it this way: do you really, truly, honestly trust Him and look to Him as your provision? If the answer to that is an emphatic "NO!" then maybe there's some work to be done; the work of believing in the One God sent to be your provision. In the midst of hard times, struggles, and turmoil, where do you look? Are you looking for a miracle? Are you trying to figure out how you could work harder to make things happen? Or do you look to the One who is your provision and trust Him to provide? Easy words to say, hard words to do. But necessary, none the less. Remember the words of Solomon, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Do not depend on your own understanding. In all your ways remember Him. Then He will make your paths smooth and straight." (Prov. 3:5-6 NIRV)

Speaking of Big Catfish

My friend, Madd Matt, sent me these pictures taken at Lake Conroe near Houston. This catfish is slightly smaller than the one that produced the skeleton in my last post! Yes, that's an inflated basketball in his mouth.

One BIG Catfish

Here's a picture of Jeremiah, who is just over 4' tall along side a catfish skeleton that is just over 4' long! Pretty huge. I read about a catfish that was just over 4' long and it weighed over 150 lbs. The fisherman trying to catch it was drug out of the boat to his death! 150 lbs. is a big fish.

Much Needed Vacation

Why does driving make you so tired? We spent about 7 hours driving yesterday to see Caryn's parents and hang out with some of our friends at Mosaic Arlington. And, for some reason, sitting in a car for that amount of time wiped me out.
Caryn's parents (Jim and Peggy Kean) are the park attendants at a state camp site. It's a primitive camping only facility, so it's not very busy in the heat of August. The humidity here is stifling. I know we grew up here, but how did we ever breath with all the water in the air? The Kean's have a 40' fifth-wheel trailer that is very nice, and sits within 100 yards of Lake Lavon. It makes for a great view, but the humidity is off the chart. We just got back from playing in the huge "sand box" (which is really a net less sand volleyball court), and Pawpaw is hosing the kids off outside. I can hear them squealing outside.
It's good to get away from home on a non-business related trip. I traveled a lot the last 6 months, but almost all of it was for ministry. So a trip like this offers the chance to not think about what's waiting at home.
Tonight we will get to spend some time with fellows church planters/pastors from Mosaic Arlington. We'll swim, cook out, and just catch up on life. And then, tomorrow, we'll get some of the best catfish in the world as we trek back to Lubbock. We really ought to do this more. I realized yesterday that my kids are growing up. Hahahaha, they just walked in from "showering" outside. They are running through the trailer naked and just giggling. Anyway, I was looking at Jeremiah's face yesterday and he has changed in the last week. He's growing up and even looks different. Our time with them will be gone before we know it. I am amazed that I spend so much time thinking about work (which will always be there and always need to be done) and not enough time with family. I'm going to make it a goal to take a family trip once a quarter, and to keep our weekly Family night sacred. After all, it does no good to reach the world and lose your family! If you ever need a place to get away to, come see us in Lubbock! We'd love to see ya!Peace, Jase.

The Muppet Show

Have you ever seen The Muppet Show? There are these two character that sit in the balcony. Thier names are Statler and Mr. Waldorf. Well, imagine those two guys standing around my table at the coffee shop every morning and you'll have a great picture of my mornings...

Today's topic: that the word "expression" has it's roots in the same germanic word as "esspresso," meaning "in a hurry." Never mind the fact that "expression" is spelled with an "x" and "espresso" is spelled with an "s." As I try to convince them that the word "esspresso" is not spelled "eXpresso," Mr. Waldorf gets aggitated and begins to get louder as he tries to convince me that they are still the same. Statler eventually walks off to do "useless things," as he puts it. If only Fozzie Bear would show up and do a comedy routine to make this more bearable.

Post Mortem

As I discussed my love of writing with a friend this morning, we began to talk about how many authors and artists realize fame and influence following their death. We joked a little about that, not really knowing why, but landed on something else: our best work and effort is realized after our death, too. I understand this much more deeply than the author thing. When we die to ourselves, our hopes/dreams/plans for our future, and yield to Christ, we become something far greater than ourselves. And the only thing that can stand in our way is really us! The great part is that we don't have to physically die to watch what Christ does. If anything, just the contrary is true. We don't truly live until we die. People like Mother Theresa are shining examples of that. While authors like C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, or Dietrich Bonhoffer and artists like Buddy Holly and Keith Green achieve their greatest point of fame post mortem, the same is true of us, but we still get to be involved. When we lose our lives for Christ sake we find real life, and accomplish our greatest point of impact and influence. We are truly living sacrifices. Just a jiggy musing from a conversation this morning...

They've done it again.

I must say that few bands impress me with their grasp of theology and culture. But Jars of Clay seems to be the exception. In "Love Song For A Savior" they show a deep understanding for the doctrine of Salvation. And, in their latest song, "Work," they capture the essence of the human condition. I am moved when I hear these lyrics:
I cannot trust these voices; I don't have a line of prospects that can give some kind of peace. There is nothing left to cling to that can bring me sweet release.
I have no fear of drowning.
It's the breathing that's taking all this work.
Do you know what I mean when I say, "I don't want to be alone"?
What I mean when I say, "I don't want to be alone"

On the nose! Life is hard. And no one wants to be alone.

Finally...

Man, I've had NO time to blog, and now my blogging vein is clogged. I've got so much to get out there that I'm not sure where to begin. My summer traveling schedule has had me swamped, but now it's winding down. It seems like it was just yesterday when I thought, "Well, it's the end of May. Summer is coming." And now it's all but gone. So, all that to say there will be more coming...and very soon.

West Texas Karate Kids

Have I mentioned that I have been training in Tae Kwon Do? Jeremiah and I started training together in April. It has been a lot of fun. We are both Yellow belts now, having passed our Orange and Yellow tests. For our tests, there are 3 parts. The first part is Poomse. We must demonstrate the required forms (Jeremiah is 2 forms ahead already. I'm having to slow him down so he can remember which one he will test on!). We must also demonstrate proper form on kicks, stances, and punches as part of the forms.
The second part is called Gyoroogi. In the second part, we spar to show proficiency in fighting. It was funny because for my sparring match I sparred a man 4 belts higher than me. Grand Master Sang Kim thought it would be funny to let us spar for longer than normal...needless to say that I could barely move afterwards! I held my own very well. It wasn't a win, but I could have been destroyed and wasn't. Jeremiah LOVES to spar. He sees it as a fun competition/game. Most of the kids he has sparred are higher belts, but they take it too seriously and end up crying. The other kids see it as a fight (usually) and take it very seriously. Jeremiah sees it as two friends playing together by reigning blows down upon each other. It's so much fun to watch him because he is just loving it. He spends too much time watching me to see if I'm watching, though...oh well.
The third part of the test is called Kyuk Pha, or breaking. And it's simply that: breaking boards with your hands and feet. During our last test, Jeremiah and I had to use our hands. He didn't do so well with his hand. He hit it and it didn't break, so the blow was absorbed by his knuckles. After that, he didn't hit the board hard any more. I had to break two boards, and actually moved the instructor (I hit the wood off-center and knocked the instructor into the wall). My wood didn't break, either, but my knuckle felt like it broke. We both ended up using our feet to break the wood. I learned my lesson, though, and will be successful next time.
In the mean time, two great things have happened. One is that Jeremiah and I are sharing a hobby that we both greatly enjoy. The second is that I have built a relationship with the Grand Master, Sang Kim. He was the US Olympic TKD coach in 1984 and again in 2000. He has great influence in the TKD world and among the Koreans of our area. We've been working with his wife on her English skills, and I have been working on his TKD web site. He has given me the title of Spiritual Advisor to the dojang. Last month I had the opportunity to lead 14 students to Christ. It was pretty awesome. Be praying for us as we continue to build relationships there. Pray for more opportunities to share and see people come to Christ. Pray for our knuckles!

Life On The River

So, we're running the Rio Grande River just Southwest of Taos, New Mexico, in a section of the river called The Box. I've split the youth group into two boats, a guy's boat and a girl's boat. And it turns out that I am in the girl's boat with our 8th grade girls. As we approach the next set of rapids called Power Lines, our guide informs us that this is a Class 4 rapid. Now, if you didn't know, rapids can have a grade of 1 - 6. A Class one section of river is just a smooth flowing easy ride. Class 6 is unraftable. Our guide, Tony, is telling us about how we're going to set up for the steepest drop on the river. It drops 18' over the course of about 100 feet, and is a funnel that we have to slip through or we'll high side (get squished agains a huge rock where the water will trap us and we'll be stuck). We've worked all morning on listening to our guides commands and being able to work as a team. We're setting up to slip into the channel when all the other girls freak out and lean in instead of digging in and rowing forward as the guide commaneded. I, on the other hand, dig in with my paddle and steer us off course because I am the only one paddling. We smash the big rock, take on a huge wave, get slammed into the other side, and out I go. That's right! Out I go into a Class 4 rapid. I emerge from the 35 degree water and assume the white water rescue float (feet first on your back looking for the raft or the shore. I see both, but neither are close, so I just ride it out to the screams and yells of the folks still in the raft. They were no longer working their way through the rapid even though the guide was still barking commands. My exit from the boat distracted the team from the task at hand. Eventually, I see an Eddy (a still place on the shore where the water is not flowing) and manage to float into it. All is well, and I'll soon be back in the raft. But there were a couple of spiritual moments for me (aside from begging God to spare my life!) that happened along the river following the "incident," as we now call it. The first is that it's vital to follow the commands of the guide, just as it is vital for us to follow the commands of The Guide. Doing so can be the difference between being in the raft, in the water, or in even greater peril. There's no guarantee that we would have navigated the rocks successfully. We can look back though and see that we stood a better chance had we been doing what the guide wanted. That thought brought me to another thought...I was doing what the guide commanded us to do, but the rest of the team wasn't. The result could have been much worse. As the Body of Christ, we need to all be attentive to the commands of The Guide so that the team doesn't suffer. Yes, it's important to get team members back into the raft, but not to the detriment of the mission. As Jesus talked to His Disciples in Luke 15, he talked about some lost things that were sought after by the owners (sheep, coin, and son). If our team doesn't keep it's focus on the mission, we can become real busy trying to keep the 99 in the boat and miss the mission of our lives. So, that was my rafting trip epiphany. Listen to The Guide and stay focused on the mission. It was a timely message for the Bishop Family as we dig into the summer duldrums of collegetown, USA. Listen to The Guide and stay focused on the mission. Everything else will be fine. Peace, Jase

There's A New Barista In Town

Many of you know of my great passion for coffee (so much so that it drove me to Seattle to visit the first Starbucks - a pilgrimage of sorts). Well, if you live in or around Lubbock, stop by Aroma's some afternoon and I'll make you your favorite drink! Due to a shortage of people at Aroma's, I am now the "fill-in" barista. So, come on by so I can experiment on you!
J

Politics and Friendship Update

Well, I thought you should know that "B" from my last post came in to Aroma's on Friday, sat at my table, and carried on a conversation like nothing happened on Tuesday and Wednesday. Who knows? But, everything is back the way it was as far as "B" is concerned.

Friends and politics

Yesterday the coffee shop became a battleground as two of my friends (we'll call them "A" and "B") fought about politics. One friend I agree with (A), the other I don't (B). But the one that I don't agree with (B) will never be changed by arguing, so I've never fought with him about his views. But yesterday "A" did go at him pretty hard. I'm not sure why. I don't think "A" thought he could change "B". I think "A" was just tired of being stereotyped by a generational bias that says that all conservatives are rich, money-grubbing SOB's (to put it in "B's" terms). It was pretty heated for about 20 minutes as "B" began yelling at "A". It was disturbing for me because "B" has been someone I've worked hard to be friends with for over a year. He's been family to our family, in spite of our differences.
Then, this morning, "B" told me that we could no longer be friends because I have such conservative friends. "B" informed me that he would no longer be bothering me with his boring liberal rhetoric. He then slammed his truck door in my face and drove away.
Sad day. Sad day, indeed.

It's God who sends the fire.

One of my favorite passages of the Bible is the story of Elijah on Mt. Carmel. He's like the Rambo of the OT. He stands up to the pagans and proves that God is real, he brings down rain after a 3+ year drought, and then outruns the king's horse-drawn chariot back to town. This story impacts me every time I read it. But today, it struck me in a new way. Elijah's actions would have had no impact had it not been for the God who sends the fire. I am reminded that, in spite of my best efforts at relevance and impact, it is God who moves and impacts. God sends the fire, and not at my command, but in His time. When I get frustrated at God's lack of moving in the lives of the people I'm trying to impact, maybe I should be asking a different question. Maybe it's not because I wasn't relevant enough. Maybe it's not because my desire wasn't great enough. Maybe I just forgot that it doesn't depend on me at all. It depends completely on the God who sends the fire. I'm at Origins this week (a conference at Mosaic Los Angeles), and we are unpacking their core values. One of their values is Relevance to culture is not optional, which I believe with all my heart. I believe that an irrelevant presentation of the Gospel is sin. But, the greater sin is to think it depends on me and my relevance. God sends the fire, and my relevance is how I step aside for God to pour it down on the offering (me). I'm going to stop asking God to make me more relevant, and start seeking His Fire. That's the real point to the story of Elijah. And that should be the point of my life.

Cool Stuff

I'm in LA for my second Origins Conf. I'm rooming with my friend, Roy, who just pointed me to a blog where I found the one of the coolest apps ever! Check this out:
Jott.
This allows you to send emails via a phone call. You can even send to-do items to your Backpack pages. Awesome. I signed up tonight, and sent myself a Jott. Too cool. Check it out.
It's mentioned on a web site called Pastorhacks.net.

The Journey's First Baptism

This is Michael, and he is The Journey's first baptism! The pool was 56 degrees and I lost the feeling in my legs!