The small whisper amidst the roar of progress...

I wake up this morning and I can't decide if I am feeling any more "Christmasy" or not. It has been a struggle this year to get behind this whole "Christmas" idea. And I am not really sure why, which is more frustrating than anything because I like to have everything figured out and laid out right in front of me. I might not be able to fix it but at the very least I can usually know what is wrong with me. But not this time. So here we are on Christmas Eve and I wish I could close my eyes and jump straight to the Candlelight Service at church. And that is surprising to me as well considering how on most days I am more defiant to my God than I ever would care to admit but tonight I just want to acknowledge my saviour. If just for a bit. Quietly, humbly. To worship Him in a fashion in which He chose to come into this world.

It is days like this where I wonder if they knew what as really going on 2000 years ago. Even if Mary and Joseph really conceived what was going to happen through a life of a child. But to be honest I wonder if I really ever understand the magnitude of it all.

We have turned a celebration of his coming into a formulaic and ritualized holiday that centers around family and presents. Good for the economy but this year I am struggling to see where this fits into a Saviour that taught his followers to sell all they had. As a human race we have progressed so far and yet the days in which we are most meant to dwell on the Saviour that has come is the time in which it is so easy to lose sight of him amongst the craziness.

He could have come in splendor. He could have come in glory. He could have come as a warrior. But instead He came as a man. A simple man in a trough in a barn. Yet, a God that would take my brokenness and shame and cast it on Himself and pay my burden because He was the only one that could defeat it and rescue us all.

Worship these next two days is found in a small whisper amongst the roar of everything else.

And when you opened your eyes you saw the advent...

My first thought today was, "you know, I bet if I ate more christmas tree little debbie cakes I bet I would be more in the Christmas mood." I love those things. Absolutely, positvely, adamantly love them. And I have eaten maybe two. Only one I can definitely remember. That is a problem.

I haven't made it a secret that I haven't really been in the mood for Christmas this year. That doesn't mean anyone has asked or anyone has even cared and they most likely probably shouldn't cause well, let's admit it, I kind of have a tendency to be a little bit of a debbie downer. (But not a "little debbie" downer as I have aforementioned... haha, I crack myself up.) The line that keeps on popping into my head is a line from Manchester Orchestra that stabs, "They call holidays an option for a reason." Nobody asked me if I wanted to have Christmas right now. I bet I will be in more of a mood for Christmas come mid March. Mid March sounds good, doesn't it? Lets do it then. We can still get together as families and tell each other how important we are to each other in all the typical love languages. But you know, I'm just not feeling it right now. Even though for all intensive purposes life is going well and everything I have wanted it to be for so long, I just don't want to sing these peppy christmas carols and sing songs about love and such. So, let's back up and just merely enjoy the abnormally cold weather this december has brought us. Right? I am right, right? I can't be alone in this. Others have to feel this way.

But it bugs me that I am not feeling "christmasy". I want to have the warm fuzzies and I want to feel all these happy things but they just aren't there. That is the point of this holiday after all. And what place does the sad and downtrodden have at Christmas except to be a burden on all the happy people around them. These are the ones that have no place at Christmas, in the land of the happy songs and perky people. In a time that is defined by it's love and it's giving what are to be made of the the people who have no love to give? Well, let them put on a mask I would say. They come in all shapes and sizes and faces and it is quite possible no one will see your mask. Everyone will love you for who you are not as your soul rips apart inside. In dire need of something, anything. These people might not serve a purpose for Christmas but Christmas definitely serves a purpose for these people. It is in this time that you don't have to stop. I successfully went nonstop for nearly two weeks before a night came where I had nowhere to go and no one to see. And that is the night it all comes crashing down on you. Distractions are nice. I love them, but they are temporary.

I have a few issues with what we would term as the evangelical church in America but this is not the blog in which I rant about that. But it is where I discuss one. This one. Where is your place for the broken? Is it on a shiny flashy tree? Is it in a manger scene on your lawn? Is it in your pride in keeping CHRIST in CHRISTmas?

You see, advent comes in many forms. Most of the time it is found on purpose. A church body making a point in remembering the waiting of an arrival of a saviour. In todays age, we jump straight to it don't we. We have completely forgot about the waiting. The pain, the agony, the despair of the people awaiting a saviour. Everything we have in church we want it now. We have even condensed salvation into a little guide where you can be instantly saved. (I remember hearing stories of people who would close their eyes to say the formulated prayer asking "Jesus into their heart" and how when they opened their eyes everything looked different. Everything had changed! It was instant, exactly how we all wanted it to be. I have prayed multiple times in my life hoping to open my eyes and see the world instantly different only to have my joy dashed as my eyes readjusted to the light around me. I was pissed.) But this is the kind of Christmas we have. Instant.

You see, their is a place for the broken at Christmas. Their is a place for the downtrodden and weary because in fact Christmas is for us. We did not choose this advent too bring us some satisfaction but rather we find ourselves in a situation in which we are once again looking for a saviour and we find that advent. We find that we are in need and we find that we are just waiting. Most often, we know who He is but somewhere along the way we lost touch. And that is ok. We all lose touch. But this holiday is for you. For the one who is need of a saviour. For someone who needs rescue. Christmas never was nor ever will be about big ass trees and annoying happy lights. It isn't even about family or giving presents. It is about a saviour who has come. You have paid your advent. You have waited. Don't you ever forget it. The wait is just important as the rescue. And now He is here to rescue.

So to end it, I guess I am in the perfect mood for Christmas. (And don't worry. Christ will be in Christmas as long as there are broken people.)

The confession of the broken...

Yeah, I know... I suck at this blogging stuff. But trust me, there is a lot more stuff that I suck at a lot more.

I just read this fantastic article on one of my favorite websites, Burnside Writers Collective. To sum up this article, it is essentially about how we find it so hard to disclose the messy parts of our life and how we try to get around the things that people will judge us about. I liked the article so much because I understood it. I see how easy it is to not lie, but at the same time not to be quite so honest too. Especially in this Christian culture that we have built. (Note: I meant to say that WE built. Not that GOD has built. God does not need our subculture, trust me.)

People used to like me more, I think. I used to be the shining example of the perfect church boy. I knew all the right things to say. I was "on fire" for God. People liked that. They held me up as a shining example of what a good Christian teenager should be. It was essentially bullcrap. It was a lie. It was a fabulous show that was put on by some scared kid that had no clue who God was. And because of this lie and this show that wore me out I only became confused by a world that I had created. Because, you know, sometimes life sucks. And even when life sucks, these "altogether people" are supposed to grin and talk some line about how God is in control. But what about when you aren't too sure about that? Is it ok to walk into church and say that you aren't too sure if God is really as in control as everyone in that room thinks He is? At that time in my life, I decided that wouldn't be as great an idea. And that left me only alone and depressed and angry at a God that I suddenly realized I had no clue who He was. Or even if He was there for that fact. This went on for a solid few years. The story is too long to tell how i regained my faith. And FAITH is the perfect word for that cause most days I have plenty more reasons why there is not a God than why there is. But at some point enters faith.

And now there is a Clay that knows God. But this Clay is different. (He obviously refers to himself in third person) But now, I am broken. And I have no problem admitting that to you. Now I often find more community in a bar than in a church. Mostly because I find that bars are more accepting of my brokenness. (A great article on the matter by Switchfoot lead singer John Foreman) And I find, that God likes community. Where I was once totally in my element in most churches I now find myself completely uncomfortable anytime I walk into a church. Mainly because I rarely ever feel clean enough to be there. I don't get held up as this shining example of Christiandom anymore. That makes me happy. I like being happy. I like being the broken whore child  of one who loves me even though more often than not I run from him instead of too him. I like worshipping a God that I can be honest with. Because right now I am feeling a little more like this. Wondering if this is just a test and hoping that I am passing cause I am losing steam and I still want to trust You...

The reverance of the far away light...

It is the nights where I look into the stars that I start to doubt. Not God. But me. Or rather us. The society that has moved us so far forward seems to have only taken us away in so many ways. Did God need us to make bright lights for us to feel the warmth? I have never claimed to be anything but a city boy. But it is these days and nights that I doubt that. The nights where the creek below seems to whisper his glory and the trees all around speak of his grace. The nights where we can actually look up and realize what was meant by innumerable stars. Where you can see stars so slight and dim that you can only see them when your gaze is elsewhere. The moment that you search for them they disappear from your view only to return when we stop looking. So faint is there light and so far that the light has traveled it is doubtful that we can ever truly accept their existence as we accept the existence of those things that we commonly have constructed around us. Sometimes, maybe it is just easier to construct a God. And yes, I meant big G there. Because we aren't ever really trying to push God away or replace him. As far as intentions go we most often than not have the best. We try to push the presence of God into the air like we can light a scented candle and it fill the room. That scares the crap out of me. I can't think of the presence of God without thinking of the old temple where "holy" men died purely because of the presence of God. So instead of waiting for that presence, we instead manufacture one that we can control. One that we can turn on and off as we please. One that I feel David would have often felt uncomfortable in as he sat there searching for the God that he loved and adored. But couldn't find. We manufacture the sacred in hopes of a constant presence of God in our lives. So that perhaps he may never leave. Perhaps we may never feel as if we are unholy? Which is ironic in that it is often the presence that makes us feel at our most destitute. But we do.

Now if you know me, you know that I love creation. I believe that the greatest act of worship is for one to create. To make art. So once again we find this fine line that must be walked. That must lightly be tread upon. To far one way we are merely manufacturing art and too far the other way we are forsaking the worship of a Creator who has created what can create.

But tonight, I cannot create the stars. I cannot create the whisper of a creek. I cannot create the cold that is currently stinging my fingers. So I will praise God for these. Not for what was manufactured but rather what is making me uncomfortable. What I cannot quite comprehend. And was is giving me beauty. All three things working together to cry out the presence of the Holy.

The first night that nips on your nose...

It is my first night of a few in the mountains with some friends. It is late, or early, depending on your perspective of the sunrise and thoughts have suddenly rushed into my head as the tide rushes onto a shallow shore. The waves of thought crashing and hopefully leaving the marks that can only be seen in the daylight when the tide has subsided. These are the waves that truly make in impact. There are many that wash ashore and leave minuscule changes in the landscape but every now and then there is one or two that crashes so hard that the shore will never quite be the same. The beach itself has changed. And yet, most often it isn't the large waves that make the change. It is the small waves being persistent over time. I think that is the key to change. It isn't in the big thoughts that overtake you and suddenly change your ways completely. Every now and then there will be a tidal wave of enlightenment which completely changes your very existence but most often we change by the small thoughts that we have daily. And over time we see these small thought that at one time weren't of much value changing our very core,  our very landscape of person. We put too much focus on the epic and not enough on time in our society. The epic is, in all actuality, very rare. But the small, with time, happens daily. If we can only hold on to them.

Nudity. I can probably have as many different reactions to the word nudity as I have friends. But at one point we were meant to be naked. I glanced at an article tonight that talked about our original nude nature. I have often thought how the first recognition of our unworthiness of the presence of the holy was our nudity. One thing that has never occurred to me though was what this actually meant. There were no body image issues, there was no trying to look like everyone else, or being physically to a standard that was set up by a society. These, are merely by-products of the sinful society that we live in. In the presence of the holy there is security. So to my female friends, who struggle with body image. I say that you are beautiful in every way that you are. You are worthy of love in every way that you appear and in every way that you exist. Cause you were once loved while you were naked. Nothing hiding anything except exactly who you are.

Maybe I should have done this earlier...

Some say that the older you get the less you have to say. I am kinda feeling lately that this theory might be true. But also, the older I get I feel like I might be losing wisdom. Growing more ignorant. But perhaps I am merely finding the wisdom to not understand what I do not know and to not speak on it.

I have been a bad blogger. Not writing like I should. But in my defense, I feel like I have very little worth saying. But here is an excerpt of something I wrote on FB about a year or so ago... I really liked it...

And here we are today, still battling this feeling of unworthiness. But something has changed again. Where at one time we were bound by this knowledge and the only way to God was to overcome Evil by following the laws of good, we are now in a position where this knowledge has no power over us. While the knowledge will never be erased from our primordial memories we are no longer bound to its power. We are no longer forced to clothe ourselves and run from our nudity because God has taken that shame from us and replaced it with hope. We no longer are forced to tie a rope around us to enter into His presence but rather we are asked to enter into it carrying every burden and sin that we have so that it may be taken away and cleansed. We no longer find ourselves following this ancient law out of duty but rather out of love. Our lives are no longer controlled by a knowledge of good and evil but rather by a knowledge of Grace.

Forgive my cliche, but everything changed again with another tree. A tree that was cut down and destroyed and turned into a weapon of torture. Completely opposite of that beautiful and mystic tree in a garden, this tree was ugly and dirty and covered in blood and dirt. But this was The Tree of The Knowledge of Grace. So, why are we still controlled by our fear? Why do we still live tied to our knowledge of good and evil? Why can't we fully live out of the knowledge of Grace?

I think it is funny how the tree that was most likely very beautiful and pretty and vibrant with color brought so much bad. And the tree that was dull and ugly and beaten and bruised brought us so much hope. Makes me wonder how my Creator defines beauty.

The melting of a soul...

First off, I can't take it anymore. I am going out of my mind. I just don't feel like myself anymore.  I feel as though I am merely walking through life and waiting to be born again in a sense. To wake up. To finally be myself again. And what you ask, is causing this amount of insanity. The daggum heat. It is so effing hot all of the time. I live for the fall. It is my favorite season of the year by far and although they tell me that yesterday was the first day of fall you would not be able to tell by the temperature that is searing my skin as I walk into the sun. This is ridiculous. I think I might just go camping and the game plan is to stop when I feel that the temperature is cool enough for an enjoyable experience and will make me need a jacket in the dark.

On the other side why I am totally annoyed with this prolonged summer is that I have been putting some music in my back pocket that I have felt will fit perfectly into this fall season. I have held off on falling in love with it so that I can do it all in the perfect context. I know, it is ridiculous. But context is everything. Well, maybe not everything but it will turn average into good and good into unfreakingbelievable. And I am more than ready to get serious about listening to some of this stuff. Last year it was primarily Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver. If I haven't said it yet then I really really need to. Make sure you listen to Bon Iver. It is a total game changer. But this year some of the stuff I am really looking forward to is some new Band of Horses and some new Ray LaMontagne. But of course there will be some new artist to listen to, I am sure of it. So you must stay tuned and I will let you know as soon as I know in the heralded form of lyrics.

In better news, next week the forcast is in the 70's. About damn time my friends.

I bid you all adieu.

And the sweetness will not be concerned with me...

Some nights I am feeling intellectual and smart and, well lets be honest, a little conceited. But some nights are built more in humility. An actual understanding of how insignificant you actually are in a really big world. It is probably a mix of both of these kind of nights in which we find balance. Part of my paradox is that I would consider myself neither really a jubilant person nor a depressed one. But often I find myself being either both at one time or an extreme of one or the other. A lot of nights Ican have a wonderful time with friends and never laugh so hard I have water come out of my nose but on my way home I find myself listening to something like this and feeling every word of it. The whole dichotomy of the entire night throws even me off. It are these times that I remind myself no matter what the Stall Wall Weekly said at Berry I am not, in fact, schizophrenic. Which, is always a relief.

But on nights like tonight is often when music plays the biggest part of me. It is always in music where I can find community when the world is filled with double rainbows. But now when we are feeling a little emo there are always options in the life of a 26 year old. (There, I said it. I am 26 and still get a little emo every now and again.) We can either revert back to the classics that I loved (and still love, btw) or it is amazing how the true emo kids in high school never actually get "not emo" they just mature a little bit. And the music matures with them. So, I suppose I can be a grown adult and listen to adult emo music but that can always get a little "too real".  But sometimes, I think it is a little bit of both and it says exactly what you need it to say. And yes, I know I used the same artist multiple times, but I really really like this guy.

Well, my goal was a post littered with links like a hipster bar is littered with flannel... success... (and I am not saying anything bad about flannel, I personally love it.)

We're just a million little gods making rainstorms...

Last night a friend of mine on twitter retweeted a quote from a pastor that I absolutely loved and often have the same sentiment. @Pastorkes wrote: Wish "Christian music" meant "thoughtful/heartfelt lyrics on God/humanity" and not "weak metaphors about God that feel oddly sexual"

When I was a teenager me and my friends called it interpretive christian music. You never really knew if they were referring to God or the the girl that guy was trying to lay.(Examples: Jars Of Clay, or how bout a song that started on secular radio and years later we decided it was actually about God, and made a skit to go with it) Cause let's be honest in acknowledging he was trying to do both, write a song that sounds like it is about God and trying to get the newest groupie he met on his tour into the hotel room. That kinda burst my CCM (Contemporary Christian Music) bubble when I was younger when I learned that all of these artists that I put on a pedestal next to God weren't too much less of a sinner than I was. I mean, I am pretty screwed up. And when we are screwed up we look for that person or group that says, "Hey, I'm not screwed up. I have all my crap figured out."Just so we can know that it is all going to be ok. But it rarely ever goes like that. We learn that these guys can be just as unhappy as we get sometimes. Looking at an artist in general for personal stability is about the equivalent of looking to Mormons to learn about contraceptives. It's just not a good idea and you are not going to get anything out of it.

I think this is why I quit listening to Christian Music for the most part. Or at least music that is particularly aiming for the Christian market. There is a whole tirade against Christian subculture that I have but I am sure that I will go on and on about that on another day. But I think I just got tired of bullcrap in my music. I got tired of people writing stuff that had no semblance to my relationship with God. Cause while I love God it is very rare to never that I have wanted to sing him a song that sounds like it would fit in best on a front porch of a frat party being played by "that guy".  My relationship is rarely that clean cut and easy. And me, as a person, I am never that clean cut and easy. It often seems to be the purpose of a lot of Christian subculture to make us look like we are all ok and we never doubt this God that we follow. I have never been there. 

The older I get the more I am finding Christian themes in music that is obviously secular and could care less if it ever reaches into the Christian subculture of the bible belt. One of my favorite themes falls into the honesty of the human condition. It is an issue that many of us believe that we are innately good people and God is just there to forgive us of our every now and again mistakes. This is definitely part of the "thoughtful/heartfelt lyrics on God/humanity" Why lie to God? He knows how screwed up we really are. So let us be honest on our condition. That we are a lot of people that pretty much messes everything up. The antithesis of Midas. Everything we touch merely withers away instead of turning to to gold like we had originally thought. 

A band I will probably speak about a lot is Arcade Fire. A song that you have no doubt heard has lyrics that I love that pertains exactly to what we are.  It has these lyrics:

 "If the children don't grow up our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We're just a million little god's making rainstorms turning every good thing to rust."

I love the idea that we are all just little god's in our lives. It brings idolatry so much closer to home. You know, we try to do good in controlling everything. We try to make rainstorms. To make stuff grow. To make beauty. But all it does is cause all the good things we have in life to turn into rust. To turn to worthless crap. I feel like that a lot in my life. Like I try to control everything. I try to set my life in a good direction and it all just falls to crap. Even when I thought I was doing good.

One of my favorite shows is a show that I watch on Netflix that comes on BBC America. It is a show called Skins and if you get easily offended then you probably shouldn't even go close to it. Just saying for all my conservative friends out there. But it is these stories of this group of teenagers whose lives are absolutely falling apart at every turn. And typically to no fault but there own. I like the authenticity of it. While I don't think that many people I know are to the degree of these teenagers. We all still have this bit of self destruction in us. Whenever we start playing these little god's. When everything is going well and we look to God and tell him that we are ok without him for a while.

It's ok though. If you are sitting here with me and thinking about how screwed up life is and you are tempted to beat yourself up about this little god mentality you should stop now. It is alright. We have all done it and we will do it again. We try to act as though there is one way all the time and we better walk this straight and narrow or it is all going to go to crap. Well, here is a news flash. It may go to crap. But sometimes it is good to cry a little bit. Sometimes it is good to only want a book and a cup of coffee and a couch. Sometimes it is good to yearn for that one record that will restore you. These are the things which have been given to us.

Don't deny true, authentic art. It is man's reaction to God and himself.

  

The night moon shines down on us as if he knew of all our secrets...

Tonight has been a Bon Iver kind of night. If you haven't listened to them yet then I suggest you begin immediately. Stop whatever you are doing that you think is important and go ahead and change your life. Listen to this or this or you know, this.

If you don't know anything about this band the album was recorded entirely by the lead singer in a cabin in Wisconsin as he was trying to basically escape his former life. His ex band, ex girlfriend, ex town. And in the cabin during a long northern winter he did the only thing he knew to do as he had no where to go and no one to see. He poured his heart into some songs. As he sings you can hear the pain in his voice. How much the words he sings means to him. How much he believes every note that flows from his mouth.

That is what we all are looking for right? For truth? To truly believe what we say, what we feel? It's amazing how emotions that you had never before been able to communicate well and all of a sudden there is a song that says exactly what you needed to say all along. And above all it is beautiful.

Beauty... I like beauty... but beauty is for another day... not on a muggy night like tonight...

And we begin with where all those who were before us have started... with a word...

I heard one time a quote that I have never been able to let go of. I haven't been able to find it since but it goes something like this. "Before any writer writes a one single bit of good writing he must first write a bunch of crap."