snowing in seattle

It snowed three inches today and I missed it. Oh, I was there alright. I saw it snowing, but still I missed it.

God's blanket of white, pure white, gently pressing down the pause button of our busy, busy souls. All he wanted to say was, "See, look what I can do. Don't you think it's lovely?"

Wildly I flung my hands about. Beat my chest. Screamed a ton and then began furiously shoveling off the snow that threatened to depress my heart's little switch.

No, no I do not think it's lovely. No, I say. I will not be stopped. I will not look. I will not see. I have a life to live and these three inches are about to give me a panic attack. I do not want to be stuck. Stranded. Stopped.

So, please...pack your snow back up and drop it on someone else's heart who might care - who might actually stop and give you praise for interrupting their perfectly busy lives.

It snowed today. Three inches in Seattle. And I missed it. It was beautiful I'm told. It was a Tuesday.

[photo by bob harrington]

starving jesus - a new short film

This film was shot this summer for the Starving Jesus Tour. It shares some more of story and my struggles with letting go.song by brandon heath
edited by stephen j. buchanan
shot by j.r. mahon

Click here to buy!

red harvest

I spent much of my fall break in a corn field in Indiana shooting a short film called RED HARVEST. Here a few production stills.

sitting

[a sketch]

sequence of events

[a drawing]

rest

green pastures still waters green pastures.
still waters green
pastures.
still waters.
hold me.
green.
water.
still.
rest.
- a response to psalm 23


I have such a difficult time being quiet sometimes. Well, most of the time really. To simply sit and rest is a very hard task for me. I recently found myself unable to find an actual "quiet place" to pray. In fact, I've had a hard time praying in general since I arrived. I'm almost afraid of what else God might have me do next if I sit and listen to him again. Anyway, I ended up in a cafe down the street from my place. I plugged my headphones into my computer and turned on Kid A, by Radiohead and began to read psalm 23 outloud.

The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green - stop there. Green. Pastures. Lovely. Warm. Sun-drenched pastures. I could hardly go on, and then...he leads me beside still waters - again, stop there. Still. Waters. The deep fresh air I'm so desperate to breathe in is just sitting there on the page, waiting for me to breath it in.

The first time I read the passage I could barely get past still waters. In fact, the rest of the psalm was nearly lost to me.

Reading it again - this time all the way through.

Sitting in silence.

Reading again.

Over and over in my head I hear the words, green pastures - still waters.

Of course this passage is not new to me, but I am usually struck by the illusions of being surrounded by evil and yet being protected by God. However, today I'd rather take a little nap in a green pasture next to a still lake. The final time I read the passage, the image of being annointed with oil resonated.

Our convocation for Mars Hill was held at St. Mark's Cathedral here in Seattle. The place is amazing! The building was planned in 1926 and construction began in 1928. When the Great Depression hit in 1929 construction stopped and the parish was left with what they now call "The Holy Box." I had never been there been before and was overwhelmed with it's raw, industrial, gothic beauty. As I walked out after the conclusion of Convocation I noticed two jars of elements. One large, clay jar of water in the center of the aisle and one smaller glass jar filled with oil.

While I rested in the last reading of psalm 23 I got the image of being "knighted" by God. Set aside. Marked. Annointed. Touched by God in this raw, visceral way. That He would actually come to dip his His finger in a jar of oil and touch His finger to my head breaks my little heart.

I'm sure my experience reading this psalm may have been different had I actually been laying in a green pasture somewhere. Though, perhaps it was my noisy, chaotic enviornment which led me to rest in the more calm phrases. Either way.

i.

am.

refreshed.

what is normal?

I read an article recently for class that has really got me thinking about the Evangelical church's view on homosexuality. Especially some conservative Christian views. Namely those which are the basis for the numerous ammendments to ban gay marriage that are up for vote tomorrow. The following is an exerpt from a talk given by Richard J. Mouw entitled, Hanging in There: Why Conservatives Need Liberals.

I often tell of listening to a conservative spokesman express his views in this way: "We normal people should tell these homosexuals that what they are doing is simply an abomination in the eyes of God." When I heard, I tell my audiences, I wanted to cry out, "Normal? You are normal? Let's all applaud for the one sexually normal person in the room!"

The fact is none of us - or at least very few of us - can honestly claim to be normal sexual beings in the eyes of God. The labels we typically use it, describing sexual orientation are blatant examples of false advertising. My homosexual friends are not very "gay." They have experienced much pain and loss in their lives. And the rest of us are not very, "straight." We are crooked people, often braised and confused in our sexuality.

So what is normal? I am certain that I do not know the answer to that.