theo|digital

The adrenaline of life is source of both purpose and pain. It strains my heart, but makes it alive. I wonder if love and purpose – these two streams – run at different speeds. Love is slow, timeless. Purpose is accomplished, quick.

I run at both speeds. I need them both. And any overdose of one tends to hurt me spiritually.

Life accelerated on Tuesday. It was the day we “report” back to campus: the day we start intensive preparations for new student week, which now begins tomorrow. And I’m already pretty exhausted!

The last four days have begun with two hours of packed time with my campus team – six of us praying, conferring, planning, and brainstorming. And then full days of phone calls, e-mails, organizing, writing: readying the major events that accompany the arrival of the new freshman class of 2005. I think I’ve put in 12 solid hours for the last four days – whew. Right now it’s almost midnight, and I finished up about 10 minutes ago.

It’s worth it, though. I may not know them yet – but some of my new best friends are lying awake tonight in their upstairs bedrooms – anticipating the biggest change of their life tomorrow morning. I’m one of those who believes in God-orchestrated “chance meetings” – and this next 5 days will be full of them.

I hope there are many who will find a home in our family here on campus. Find God in the midst of the other people. Find out how big Life really is.

Here we go.

In recent weeks, the flow of selfishness has been so strong that today – for a few minutes – I felt completely unworthy to be leading in this community. My inability to quell my criticism, my untempered greed. Fortunately, my pride returned me to a sense of self-security, my resilient self-image responsive to the way I numb my spirit if it causes emotional distress.

To want to know the heart of God?
To have mine match?

I’ve learned this. When I am faltering, it’s not my heart that is attacked. It’s my heart’s desire. It’s not my character that is assaulted. It’s my desire to have character. It’s the word “want” tentatively inserted with a quiet question mark that slips in and begins the poison.

When my own passion fades – then I’m the one making the choice to slow the journey. I am not Pilgrim hindered by peril, sword, and beast. I am hindered by self-inflicted leak in my own resolve. I take a rest stop on the path because I want to.

This is how it feels to be held back on a spiritual journey. The spiritual lactic acid. After running 15 miles, you start to wonder why you wanted to run the marathon in the first place. What was the point?

So my response to my heart isn’t to beat it into submission, but to remind it of the God whose unimaginable peace, satisfying justice, love-that-works-right-every-time is ready to make mine more like his. And how I WANT this.

Walked out of the house yesterday morning, but this wasn’t the first thing I saw as I approached my car. I couldn’t put my finger on it – it just felt not quite right. When I tried to open the car door, I discovered that it was already unlocked. Dang – I thought – I forgot to lock it up. Then I saw the wires hanging where the radio should be, and the contents of my glove compartment scattered on the floorboards.

At first I thought it was my fault – leaving the car unlocked on a dark city night. It took me five minutes to look back and realize my back passenger-side window had been smashed. The back seat layered in shredded glass.

It was odd thinking about the man who was in my car, going through my things.

I’m not sure why he chose to break in my car. Of all the cars on the street: my 1989 Olds instead of the two Lexus SUVs halfway down the block. And my radio. It’s only a year old, but it was installed at circuit city. I literally walked into circuit city and said, “what’s the cheapest model you sell?”

The cop that took the phone report said a crack addict will take anything – even if it means selling it for ten bucks. I don’t know if a drug addict took my radio, but it cost me a lot more than my theif will get for it.

So I have to replace a CD player, about 20 CDs, a 6-pack of colorado beer (a gift for a friend I was carrying in the backseat), and a broken car window. Maybe don’t have I have replace all of that, but those are the things that have been taken from me, plus about $5 cash.

The calm suprised me. My last few days have been hurried, tired, bitter. Materialistic and distracting. And as I cranked my radio-less car – hearing the outside sounds clearly from the broken back-right window – I felt like God had slipped into the car and sat down nearer to me than we had been in two whole weeks.

I don’t know exactly what that is, but I think the nearness of God is worth a broken window and a stolen radio.

Chicago neighborhoods: Corner pubs. Cracked sidewalks. Earings. Fearless pigeons. Wrinkled Greek men; gold chained latino machismos. Theaters with one door. Red brick salt box houses. Spanish in bursts like water cannons.

And me drinking house blend, self-consciously hoping I’m interesting enough to fit in this City Jam Session, this mish-mash of notes and beats.
Jason D my Chicago buddy just bought a new hip two-flat in Wicker Park… within walking distance of *three* Intelligensia refill stations. I’m staying with him for two weeks while I’m up in Chicago visiting friends and ministry partners. Sweet.