Confession

Have you ever had a seasonal friend? One of those people that enter your life and for a short time they are a large part of your life. They feel like they'll always be there and then, all the sudden, you drift apart. Maybe that thing or person you had in common isn't there anymore, but you live in Fresno, which means, you'll run into this person. Most likely at Target. It's not that you don't like this person anymore, you just don't know how to even talk to them anymore.

That's kinda what this blog has become for me. Like that friend I had a few months ago. The one I thought would definitely be in my wedding some day, but now, I can't even remember what it is we had in common. How did we get here? Maybe I was still unsure how much I wanted to expose myself in such a public manner. Maybe I was scared to be so vulnerable. Or maybe, I'm just not that interesting. Either way, I got so far away from this thing I wasn't sure how to come back, where to start again.

So, I've decided to do the hard thing, at least for me. Instead of just letting this thing slowly die and becoming another one of those people that started a blog, I've decided to revive this one. To rebuild. Hope you'll still join me, after all, we did say we'd be best friends forever.

Cam

Lessons in Worship from a Demon.

I think all of my problems could be boiled down to truly recognizing who Jesus is and who I am in comparison. 

Working for a church and being around the things of God a lot, I am in the business of "God" so to speak, it's easy to become desensitized. Overexposed. To take for granted who God truly is and what He has done. Too often I become too familiar and lose the sense of Awe, Wonder and Fear I should have as I approach Jesus. Instead of being a humble worshiper I become a cold hearted Pharisee, who finds my identity in the work I do and not in who I am in Him. 

Pharisees have had this problem for awhile. When they met Jesus for the first time they had mixed reactions. 

They gossiped about him to his disciples (Matt 9: 11)

They questioned his leadership (Matt 12:2)

They blasphemed him (Matt 9:34)

They were looking for a way to discredit him (Luke 6:7)

They plotted to kill him (Matt 12:14)

Why did the people who were supposed to be waiting for Jesus not recognize Him when He was right in front of their face? Too busy doing what was right? He didn't fit their paradigm? Too proud to need a Savior? 

Regardless of the reason, they missed it. They missed him. If I'm not careful I can miss Him too. When I fail to recognize Jesus for who He is in my life, When I begin to define myself by what I do and not who I am in Him, I've missed Him. 

By contrast, Jesus meets a man filled with an army of demons who receives Him quite differently. We know this man only as Legion, here's his response to Jesus:

 

Mark 5:6-7

6 When he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped Him. 7 And he cried out with a loud voice and said, “What have I to do with You, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I implore You by God that You do not torment me.” 

When the man possessed by the army of demons saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped him. If a demon responds to my Jesus like that, how much greater should my response be? A demon knows better than a pharisee who Jesus is, because he knows he is in opposition to him, a pharisee is, but doesn't realize it. His identity is in His empty obedience to legalistic "good works." Being a pharisee is like dying by carbon monoxide poisoning. It's a slow and silent death of the soul. 

If I truly recognize who Jesus is and who I am by comparison. I'll run to him, fall before him, and worship him. 

Mi Familia

Ok, so I was a little overzealous with this whole week of blogging in the middle of lots of events, storyboarding, and residency, so my bad. Instead, I'm going to give you the Legacy's I've been left. Abridged. Here you go...

Dad: Meekness, Strength in Humility

My Dad suffers from Parkinson's disease. As many of you already know. What you may or may not know is he was once a competitive body builder. He was, to me, the embodiment of physical strength and security. As the Lord has humbled the physical body of my father and in that broken him of every tie he had to his identity in this world, I have seen him depend more on Christ. The weaker his body becomes, the more humble he grows, the more dependent on Christ he becomes, and the stronger he is. 

Mom: Spontaneity & Individuality

My mother is an individual. I used to resent her for it. She is relentless in her desire to be true to who she is. I used to think a mother had to be a certain way and for awhile I wanted her to be like other moms, you know, more boring ones. Now, I am so thankful. What I didn't realize is my mother was teaching me that it was ok for me to be unique. That I didn't have to conform to the mold, that I could be a good mom who didn't wear a string of pearls, unless I wanted to...

Ama & Grandma: Servitude

My grandmothers could not be more different. Where they are similar is they will do absolutely anything to serve their families, and especially their husbands. 

Grandpa: Faithfulness

My grandpa is the most faithful man I've met. He faithfully serves, gives, supports, and encourages. He does right when no one is watching. 

Apa: generosity 

My dear Apa who we lost a little over a year ago was a precious man. He was quiet and warm, but mostly he was extremely generous with his family and denied us nothing. 

Madi: Unconditional Love

Rob: Encouragement

Bella: Grace

I could go on and on, but you get the picture. My family has left a mark on me. I am who I am because of them and learn about who Jesus is through them. We each leave a legacy on those around us... What's yours?

This week: a portrait of my family.

Hey Blog friends,

I usually reserve my very rarely updated blog for the aha moments God gives me as I skip, jump, twirl, fall, and walk along this road with Him. However, my aha moment this week is not what he's showing me now, but what he's already shown me. I was reading Romans 16 this week, Paul's shout out to his peeps and realized the impact 

of people in my life. I am who I am because of the influence of others in my life. So this week I would like to share with you portraits of lives that have influenced me. Family members here and past who have shaped who I am. 

They aren't spiritual giants that will end up in text books. They aren't perfect. But they aspired to lead quiet lives that please the Lord and for that humble example I am eternally grateful. Hope you enjoy their inspiring stories as much as I do.

My love affair with Amos Lee

At first it was just a crush and I thought maybe it was just infatuation. But these feelings are real and go much deeper than I first expected. I am absolutely in LOVE with Amos Lee and I don't care who knows it. 

His sultry voice and soulful lyrics touch my soul and I'm just going to say it, unapologetically, because it's the truth, even though it is sappy. Though in my mind he is a very single, lovely man who loves Jesus and respects women, I realize that is most likely fantasy. However, I think he accidentally nailed the core struggle of walking in holiness with Christ. 

In his song "Seen it All Before" he has this lyric that has always haunted me. "Stuck between the depths of my fears and the peaks of my pride." And that is exactly it. He unintentionally nailed the daily struggle we experience to walk in step with Christ. Every time I fall, every time I choose something besides Christ it's because of one of those things. My fear or my pride. 

My pride tells me I don't need Him, that I got this. My fears tell me I can't trust Him. When I am emptied out before the Lord that is what gets exposed. My fears and my pride. And that is what they feel like! My pride is puffed up like a peak and I come crashing down off the top of it when the Lord in His grace humbles me before I'm too much of an idiot. And my fears.. they feel like depths. When I wallow there in my fears and insecurities, they are paralyzing and when I truly search them I realize the black hole-like spiral they send me into. 

Somewhere in between those places, of darkness and fleeting self sufficiency there is a sweet spot of dependency on Christ. This beautiful place that is much less dramatic and maybe even less exciting than bouncing back and forth through the extremes of emotion we experience when we ping pong back and forth between living in fear and living in pride. But the peace that we're longing for in the core of us is there, one that's beyond understanding.

Let yourself fall in love.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=el74EUL1swQ

Let's Get Physical

I like people. A lot. The people in my life are important to me. Sometimes I will go to great lengths to show the people I care about how much I care about them. It's been about a month since I've seen my grandmother. I know that because the last time I saw her it was when we were shopping at TJ Maxx and in order to save an extra 20% that day I opened up an account with them. They have a 28 day billing cycle, and my bill was due today. When I realized that I figured I should see her, because I assume if I haven't spent quality time with a person in awhile, they probably think I don't care about them.

My grandmother is a very interesting woman. First of all, she doesn't look like a grandmother and she hates that word because that is a name for an old woman and she is not old. In our family, she is Ama. Much better. A little over a year ago, my grandfather passed away. For the first time in her adult life, she found herself alone. I mean she still has all of us, but we don't live with her and pay her bills. So, she did a very respectable thing and went on a job search. She interviewed and was hired to work the front desk at Sierra Racquet Club. Her duties include, scheduling courts, opening up the facilities, ringing up customers who are renewing their memberships and so forth. One of the perks of her job is that her family gets in free. 

When I realized I hadn't seen my Ama in a while, I called her, only to discover that she works on my day off. She insisted I come in to take one of the classes at the club and visit her. I was willing, both to see her and alleviate some of my guilt.

I got there and she immediately started introducing me to everyone. I finally understand where I get my obsessive need to try and know everyone from. She knew every person in the club, their family history, their story, and their normal workout regiment. When we finally made it to our class, I realized how out of place I was. I looked around and saw that everyone there, except for me and my teacher, would qualify for a senior special. The class consisted of mostly ladies and then the token two random guys in an aerobics class. In an aerobics class there are always a couple and they are always the same. The first is gay and/or foreign, and the second is straight, probably staring at your butt, and must make stupid jokes the entire class to prove to the class that he is not the gay/foreign one. But I digress...

Our teacher quickly instructed me to pick up five different instruments and apparatuses we were going to use for the class. Though she was relatively young, it became apparent, nothing about how this class was run had changed in the last 30 years. We even had those rubber band pully things with handles that I had only really seen on that Olivia Newton John video from years ago. 

As the work out began I realized something else. I am WAY out of shape and super competitive. Not a good combination. Here I am looking around at these old ladies and dudes and they were way better at this stuff than I am. It was very humbling to say the least. I couldn't wait for class to end. Our instructor bounced around a lot, you could tell she was trying to keep it fresh, but it was the same old thing. Was it working? Yes. I could feel the burn, so to speak, but Did I enjoy it? No. 

This experience got me thinking. Why wouldn't I go back to this class? Why didn't I enjoy it? Did I get a good workout? YES! I am so sore already. Did I not enjoy the people? Besides the creepy dude, which there is always one, yes. The ladies were sweet and funny and I enjoyed working out with them. Was it the music? Maybe sometimes. Then I realized what the fatal flaw of the class was... it wasn't innovative. It was boring, because it's been done, and overdone, about a thousand times. At work we talk a lot about wanting to innovate and push things farther, but there was something about seeing this pocket of irrelevance in a time where so many other options are available that made me realize how important innovation is and will become as I continue to age. What I know innately now, because of my youth, will become irrelevant and what we've done will become dated, sooner than we are ready to accept. There's just got to be a way to keep the effectiveness of the workout and the results it produced, without having it look exactly the same. 

Your thoughts?

The end before the beginning

I've never been happy with the physical art I've created. I always have this definite picture in my head of how I want it to look and the finished product is never even close to what I had imagined. I don't think real artists have that. I don't think they know the end before the beginning.  Most artists say that they let the picture take them where it leads or something vague and frustrating like that. I started to wonder, Is that indicative of my life? Do I have a picture of what I want the end to be? Am I disappointed when God does something else, even if it is better for me?

My mind never stops. I mean never. I dream every night and I don't listen to music in the car when I'm by myself because I usually forget to turn it on. My mind spins as I try to piece together the past to predict the future. Someone asked me recently why I do this and my response, though sincere at the time, wasn't complete. I told him I'm usually thinking about people, trying to figure out what they are doing and why they are doing it. True. However, that explains what I am thinking about, not why. When I honestly thought about it, I realized I was protecting myself. If I can figure out what is coming next I can prevent myself from being hurt or disappointed. Not true, but it feels true to me sometimes. The truth is, with life, much like art, it is pretty much impossible to figure out the end before the beginning. In the end you are left either with feeling disappointed about life or about your process, because one or both are bound to be wrong or unfair. 

So here's my challenge. To live in the present. Vulnerable. Terrified. And excited to see what the master will artfully put together.