Wayne Jacobsen

Someone I reconnected with in Atlanta last week sent me a story that they had written.  I loved it and I asked permission to share it with you.  There is so much in this little story that desribes my own journey as well, how God won me away from the cabin to explore so many things with him.  It’s quite a process to get us to stop processing life with our own eyes, hopes, and biases and see the amazing adventure he wants to share with us.  I hope it inspires you as well.  

Him
by Mike Spessard

 

I cannot remember how or when this journey began exactly, but as I look down into this valley with Him, it just seems like He has always been there with me.  This valley is the most incredible place I’ve ever seen.  Where is a camera when you need one?   I have never seen anything so beautiful and inviting in my life.  It is “the” time of day, my favorite. The light is incredible, but I’ve always loved the shadows of this time, long finger-like blues and grays stretching across the terrain like God’s own hands caressing His creation.  The sun is slung low on the horizon so that its light casts warm hues of orange, red, and yellow, creating a longing in me, not a sad one mind you, but one of hope.  It’s like a lingering remnant of a presence is here, and it’s telling me it’s coming back in full.  Anyway, He seems to sense it too. 

I’ve noticed the more I hung out with this guy, the more I am aware of our similarities.  Neither of us says a word for a long time.  I’m not sure how long, but there is no awkwardness.  He seems to “get” this moment too.  As a matter of fact, He seems to get it more than I do.  I love this guy.  Have you ever met someone that you just can’t be around enough?  I love being us. 

He turns and smiles.  “Me too,” He says. 

Did I just say that out loud?  See, that’s what I mean about my friend; He just seems to know what I’m thinking.  “Seriously though, did I say that out loud?”  I ask.
Now He’s just flat out laughing. “You ready?”  He asks.

“Dude, seriously, it’s last light, and you want to go explore this valley? We should really have ropes for this kind of descent. We have no idea how steep this gets at the bottom. Let’s come back in the morning so we can have the whole day?” 

With His Cheshire cat smile, He begins descending into the valley.  And while I protest, I notice that I too am beginning to get pulled on by this panorama that spreads before us. 

“This is so stupid, dude,” I tell Him.  This is not the first time I’ve let Him talk me into something I thought better of. But you know what’s strange? He has always been right. Every turn in the road, and new direction He suggests seems to speak life to both of us.  But I’m not sure what brings Him the most life; the new adventures themselves, or me coming to life in them.

I think I should back up and share with you some more of this journey with my friend, so that you can better understand why I am following Him into this valley as night falls.

Like I said earlier, I don’t remember how this all began really.  One day we just started walking.  And we walked all the way to the state line and just kept awalkin’.  And that’s all I have to say about that.  He loves my Forrest Gump impersonation.  Over the years we have seen a lot of different terrain.  Sometimes the going is easy through grassy fields, rolling hills, or meandering streams, but other times we’ve ended up crossing what I would call a wasteland or dessert getting the crap kicked out of us by the sun. 

“I can’t wait to get out of this place.  We could die out here,” was my usual reaction.

“I know!  Isn’t it a rush!” he’d say.  I cannot tell you how annoying that became.  Anyway, I did begin to appreciate all the different places we went even if I did think they were harsh initially.

You know, as I look back, I realize that in the beginning it seemed I was always leading.  I don’t remember Him ever complaining, and there were many times, maybe even most, when we walked side by side, but I would always be the one suggesting a direction.  “Sure, Mike, whatever you want,” was his standard answer.  “Sure, Mike, whatever you want.”  It became kind of a joke between us. 

Once when we were walking through a field full of cows, I mockingly echoed Him as He said it.  A second later I experienced the sensation of not nearly old enough cow pie impacting the back of my head.  He was laughing so hard He could hardly stand up.

“That was so wrong!” I exclaimed.  As I dropped my backpack to the ground, I bent to pick up my own fecal artillery and announced, “Game on!”

You may not be aware of this, but cow pies are amazingly similar in shape to Frisbees, and I did play quite a bit of ultimate in college.  My first toss was a direct hit to the side of His face, knocking Him to the ground.  He was so out of breath that He was unable to get to his feet before round two slammed into his kidney.  This went on for entirely too long, and you can imagine how we ended up looking and smelling.  As we caught our breath leaning on our knees, I noticed the producers of our ammo, some 200-300 cows all looking at us as if they where thinking, “People are so stupid.”  We laughed until our bodies ached. Note to self: next time we decide to do something like this, make sure there is a body of water nearby.

It may seem strong to say this, but that memory is a treasure to me.  We’ve had many experiences since then that fill my heart, not all of them joyous.  Disagreements, fights, loneliness, and distrust have all seemed to find their way between us.  Looking back, I see it was all my doing.  Sometimes I thought we just needed some time apart.  I never suggested this, but I’m sure of how He would have responded.  “Sure, Mike, whatever you want.”

Sometime in the middle of our journey, we made our way through a spire of mountains.  It was tough going. I mean steep!  Toward the end of that day, we discovered a plateau that stretched between two ridges, and because I had begun to walk behind Him, something inside me said this must be our destination.  This place was amazing.  Once we got in the midst of the plateau, it got even better.  There were tons of trees, flowers blanketing every direction, plenty of wildlife, and a lifetime of water to fly-fish.  It felt perfect.  We ended up staying between these two expanses of mountains for weeks.  Everyday we explored more of it, and as it became more familiar, I became more comfortable.

 

 

As we ate dinner one night, I brought up the idea that this place would make a great home.  “Look,” I told Him, “we have everything we need in this place.  We could build a cabin from all the trees and have plenty to eat.  We’d never have to ask for anything from people in our journey.”

He just smiled, but this time He didn’t say anything.  He just smiled.  I almost felt a sense of sadness in His reaction. 

“How can you not want to stay?” I said.  “We can make it here.  I can plant crops.  I can fish and hunt.  This place has everything we need.  On top of that, it’s beautiful.”

“It is that, Mike,” He said,  “I’ll stay here if that’s what you want.”  He paused as if He wanted to say more, but only added, “What do you want?”

“I’m tired. I want a place to call my own,” I answered.

He gave a disappointed nod, but His eyes didn’t condemn me.

“Look,” I said, “Let’s just hang here for a time.  We can explore everything around here.  Then we have this place to come back to every night.”

“Sure, Mike.  Whatever you want.”  There it was.

I started building a cabin the next day. The days were long, but they never seemed it.  I would work from first light to last, save for a few hours to wet a fly line with Him.  Even though He was out exploring, I finished in about a month.  It was perfect, and I must say, I was pretty proud of it.

We settled in to the daily routine of chores and upkeep of the place, always leaving a little time for exploration and fun. I think He even started to enjoy staying there, although, on numerous occasions, I caught Him staring off into the horizon like He was looking for something. When I inquired as to what He saw, He just smiled and said, “Nothing.  I was just admiring the view”.  I wasn’t sure I believed that. There was a longing in the way He just stood there. What did He see out there?
Days grew into weeks. Weeks grew into years, and I sensed my friend was growing bored.  He didn’t laugh as much, and he would go off for days at a time.  He would always come back with descriptions of what He had seen and experienced. Something inside of me missed that journeying we experienced years ago. Sure there were a lot of unknowns, but there was an excitement and freedom in it.

“You have got to see this valley I found yesterday.  It’s awesome,” He said.

“What’s wrong with this one?  This place is still pretty incredible.”

“Oh yea. I know,” He answered.  “But there is just so much out there Mike.  So much that I want to show you.”

“Yea, it would be nice to see them, but I have so much I can do around here, and there always seems to be a lot of work to be done.”  Oh no, I have turned into my dad.  I was sure it would never happen.  “You know what?” I said.  “Tomorrow I want to see it.  The valley, I mean.”  His smile was one I had not seen in a long time.
Early the next morning, we set out.  I’m not much of a morning person unless I am going hunting or fishing, but when I do get up early, it’s always amazing: the dew on the grass, the smells, and the birds just going nuts.  The shadows are long, and the sun beckons, “Follow Me.” 

It was good to be moving with Him again. I realized I missed being in places that weren’t familiar.  There is a kind of discomfort about it.  He seemed to thrive on it, my being uncomfortable, I mean. 

It took most of the day to get to this place.  I didn’t tire though; I guess it was the anticipation of seeing this place He had talked about so much. Getting there was brutal. He never did seem to find easy ways to get to places. He didn’t see the point in that. As I reflect on all our adventures, the most difficult ones were the most satisfying, not necessarily while we struggled through them, but when we would finish. We always seemed to finish well.

That brings me to where I began this story, the valley.  You need to understand, He is great at underselling something.  His description of this place did not do it justice.  I think this was intentional. He wanted me to experience it when I wanted it.  After many minutes of not speaking, just looking at this place, I turn to say something to Him. He isn’t even looking at the valley.  He’s looking at me.  He’s just enjoying me, enjoying this place.  Why didn’t I come sooner? 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this incredible?” I say.

“Mike, … I did.”  That was all He needed to say.  Message received.  I was so focused on my comfortable little cabin. I had missed out on being in places like this. I had forgotten what living looked like.

“Dude, I’m an idiot.  I’m sorry.” I say.

“No worries,” He responds.  “So how was today, Mike?”

I look down and take a moment to make sure I answer honestly.  I notice that most of the skin on my knees is gone.  Blood is running into my sock, which I’m pretty sure contains a leach I picked up at the last river crossing.  I’m covered in scratches and bug bites, and I stink.  My response: “It was awesome.”

He smiles and nods as He drops into this valley. Normally at this point, I begin to weigh the pros and cons. Not this time. I’m right behind Him.  I don’t think we’re going to see the cabin for a long time.

Mike Spessard is the director of Grace Summit in Roswell, GA. 

I’m attending a discipleship class locally.  I didn’t know it was a discipleship class when I signed up. A friend of mine was goign to teach a class on Dallas Willard’s Divine Conspiracy, one of my favorite books of all time.  At the time I read it, it was a godsend in helping thing outside the religious obligation treadmill I’d been running on for almost 40 years.  But the class turns out to be less about the book and more about trying to be better disciples of Jesus.  Well, I guess we could all use a refresher course like that so I’ve stayed with it. The class has been a bit like a time-warp.  It has taken me back 30 years to when I thought discipleship is something we had to do for God, rather than learn to live inside his revelation.  

It’s reminded me that the life of Jesus is not found by trying to avoid our sins and or trying to incorporate more Christian practices in our life.  The life of Jesus is found inside a relationship that is so endearing sin loses it’s luster and its power, and finding what connects me better to him is the adventure of each day.  I remember well working so hard to try to connect with him and always frustrated at my fleeting and failed attempts. All the while he was revealing himself to me in ways I couldn’t recognize because I hadn’t earned them by my hard work.  Finding him as a real presence in my life changed everthing.  I still do some of the same practices, but for far different reasons.  They are no longer a substitute for the relationship I lacked, but simply a way of recognizing him.  And in working less to find him, I find myself working more with him in the joy of loving and serving others.  

The life of Jesus is not about saying no to our desires and trying to follow his.  It’s really about coming to know him and in knowing him let him teach us how to say no to worldly appetities and desires, and yes to his unfolding purpose in our lives.  For me, it has made all the difference in the world and it is hard to watch others labor under a human effort approach to discipleship.  It may work in the short term when a class is holding them accountable, but in time it will fade away like all the other attempts unless they discover how to engage a Father of great affection. 

Even Dallas Willard said it that way:  “The eternal life of which Jesus speaks is not knowledge about God but an intimately interactive relationship with him.”  The disciplines don’t earn that, at their best the express the reality of it already happening in our hearts.  

Tomorrow I board a flight for Atlanta and to wander around Georgia and North Carolina for 10 days and explore that journey with others. There are some old friends I’ll cross paths with on this trip, and people I don’t know yet, who will likely become friends in the brief time we’ll have together.  If you’re interested in connecting with me and others on this journey while I’m there you can get details on my travel page.  After that I’ll be headed to Florida in early March, spending time in Orlando, Sarasota, and West Palm Beach.  You can join us there if you like. Then in April I’m planning on spending some time in Virginia, at least in Richmond and wherever else he may open doors.

Also for your information on Saturday, March 7, I’m going to be a guest on Moody Radio’s Up for Debate radio show, that will also stream life on the Internet.  Host Julie Royas will be conducting a conversation about whether or not a Christian has to attend “a church.”  It should be interesting especially because the other guest has written that we must and that it is the only way to be identified with Jesus in the world.  It should be an interesting discussion if you want to listen or call in.   😉 

I love talking about two things:  What does it mean to live in the affection of the Father and what does the church look like if it was a community of people sharing the Father’s affection and not distorted by the institutional priorities that often mar her beauty.  Last week I got to do both. 

I was a guest on Brian Holmes podcast talking about HE LOVES ME.  In my opinion the material in this book is the most important issue I help people deal with.  While “God is love” is the most certain of our theological underpinnings, most people do not wake up every morning confident that God loves them more than anyone on this planet every has or ever will, that he will work in their life that day for their good, and that they can walk with him in a real and tangible way.  Brian and I get to process that together.  If you haven’t read the book you can order it here.  If you’re having trouble learning connecting to the way God makes himself known in your life, you might try our Engage videos, a free resource to help discover the relationship God is building with you. 

I also did an intervidw on Finding Church for iHeart Radio.  Unfortunately too many Christians think the only way to follow Jesus is by attending a local congregation that claims to be his church.  While his church can often make itself known there, there are so many other ways and places where God expresses his family as well.  Wayne talks about the growing trend of people from all walks of life who are no longer engaged in a traditional congregation and why they are finding that an institution is not the only place to celebrate the unity, encouragement and cammaradarie of the Body of Christ in the world.  

For those of you concerned that I’m not blogging enough here, I’m also blogging at FindingChurch.com.  If you liked our Facebook Page or subsribe to the blog, you’ll be notified when I post a new blog. And I’m posting a new poem on the Finding Church blog today that will invite you into some really enthralling space about God’s church in the world.  

Over the past couple of weeks Sara has been sending out donation receipts to those who have given so generously to Lifestream over the past year.  Of course, the vast majority of that went to help in Kenya where people were so impacted by drought and disease. In the past twenty years I have continually been amazed at how God has provided for all that we do here, from the books and travel, to the free website resources, and in the last few years to share with our brothers and sisters in Kenya who live in such incredible poverty.  

We are not a relief organization, or even a missional one in the sense that our objective is to raise money for overseas needs. But you wouldn’t know that from looking at our financial expenditures last year.  If you had shown me this chart last year and told me that’s what God was going to do in 2014, I would have thought you were crazy. We were simply touched by a need overseas. Dear friends from Kenya had come across a region north of them where over 100,000 peple were being decimated by extreme drought, destroying their food supply and ravaging them with disease. We simply offered to help and invited you to help too.  What began with sending a few thousand dollars worth of food and water sort of snowballed—both with the need there, and the generosity of people who read this blog or listen to my podcast at The God Journey.

Honestly this was not in our budget or plans for this year. Who would have thought that we would be able to channel over half a million dollars by simply letting people know about the need? We didn’t take out any fees for our expenses or administration in gathering and wiring this money and quickly generosity begat generosity. Well, we certainly look like a missions organization now at least as far as our spending in 2014.  Here’s what that looked like:

Someone wrote this week to get some more information on Lifestream and how we do what we do.  Lifestream is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit ministry.  For revenue last year we took in $344,000 in contributions and another $38,000 in book sales and other income.  We spent $673,000 last year, with $531,00 of that going to our work in Kenya and $25,000 of that in travel and website expenses.  We have two people on our payroll (myself and Sara) and we are free to do whatever God gives us to do to encourage people on this journey, connect them with others, and to share his resource among the corner of his family that we touch. As you can see our business model is unsustainable, spending more than we take in. It only works because of a past endowment we can access.  

Almost two-thirds of our spending last year went to our brothers and sisters in Kenya to help relieve the suffering in North Pokot and open a wide door for the Gospel among a people who did not know about Jesus or his life.  Over the next week or so our donation receipts will go out to those who helped make all of this possible.  You can’t imagine how grateful we are and overwhelmed with gratittude that God let us be part of something so incredible. A year ago we didn’t even know these people existed or that we could help meet a need more worthy of far larger missions groups.  But somehow God saw fit to use this little community in a corner of the web. So if you think this blog posting is bragging on Lifestream, you’re a bit confused. This was not about us!  This was about fellow human beings being ravaged by need and how a small group of people from all over the world responded. You can read more about that here as this journey continues into 2015.  

Love draws you into some pretty crazy space where God can do things beyond anything you would even ask for or imagine.  

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was an outstanding collegiate and professional basketball player many moons ago and well-known convert to Islam. In a Time article this week he wrote about his reaction to the Paris bombings as a Muslim: 

“Ironically, terrorism is an act against the very religion the perpetrators believe in.  It’s is an acknowledgement that the religion and its teachings aren’t enough to persuade people to follow it. Any religion that requires coercion is not about community but leaders who want power.” 

So true!    

And it is also true of evangelical pastors who berate followers of Jesus with fear and obligation.  If your faith is not engaging enough to invite others to embrace it on for its joy and reality, maybe you need to find a richer faith.    

Sara and I receive lots of Christmas cards and greetings from people all over the world and they overwhelm us with the joy of our connection to a vast and rich pool of friends who share many of our passions.  I’m deeply blessed by all the people I know and love in the world.  We havent sent out our own cards or family newsletter in years.  For one, most of my life is already public and two, it only adds to a to-do list that is already too long at year’s end. 

But I enjoy reading the ones that are sent to us as long as you remember that Christmas newsletters like Facebook postings only include the highlights, as perhaps they should.  But real life goes on beneath the milestones in our children’s lives, the birth and growth of grandchildren, and new opportunities at work.  I’ve read many a newsletter, celebrating the high moments, but knowing that life was much more difficult for them than any would think reading it.  Life is filled with challenge and pain for all of us.  While they may not be appropriate in a newsletter, I am concerned that as others read them they thing others’ lives are awesome, while theirs is difficult and painful.  Don’t forget, everyone knows pain, times of doubt, rear, and struggles that at times push them to their limits.  They are not going to put that in a newsletter so don’t think the newsletter defines their lives.  

In this last year Sara and I have known absolute bliss and times of searing pain.  We’ve known God’s wisdom, and we’ve stood amidst perplexing circumstances horribly uncertain of what’s next.  We’ve laughed hard with good friends and we’ve cried as people we love endure excruciating pain.  We got to go to Israel with forty people who became an expression of God’s family not just for those ten days, but in growing friendships since.  We came back to be with my parents through challenges to my mom’s health, then her passing, then to help Dad in his life now in the valley of the shadow of her death.  

I blew up Finding Church in February and had to rewrite it past summer.  And now Sara has been busy shipping them all over the world.  The response has been overwhelming, both with those who love it and those who consider it a grave threat to what they think is the “real church.”  

We’ve seen people we love find new dimensions of grace, we’ve watched others nearly give up in the struggle. We’ve enjoyed our children, grandchildren, extended family, and friends in the passages of life.  We’ve celebrated when new layers of revelation open up a wider vista for a friend, groaned in prayer as others go through deeper pain and challenge.  We’ve deepened old friendships and began new ones.  We have been with people in the pain of coming away from abusive religious systems, who struggle to believe their is a God who loves them, even at their most broken.  We’ve sat in dark moments with those overwhelmed by disappointment or fear.  

As a complete surprise to us we got involved with a 120,000 people straving to death in the upper reaches of Kenya and through your generosity were able to send over half a million dollars for relief,  provision, medical needs, education, and to drill four wells to provide life-giving water.  Half a million dollars!  I can’t even imagine how God was able to put that kind of resource in our hands just by making a few invitations on my blog or podcast! We sent it all to Kenya, even more thatn we took in and have listened to the stories as those we helped have been opening to Jesus because their gods had failed them. We’ve seen our Kenyan friends rush to their aid out of their own poverty and heard how blessed they were that we entrusted the money to them without sending a white guy over to administrate the funds because we didn’t trust them.  They don’t think that has ever been done before.  They have grown tremendously in their capacity to live beyond themselves and be a blessing to others when their needs are great as well.

But mostly this year has been like every other year, another opportunity for grace to unfold in our lives and the challenge to keep embracing his reality when life beckons you so many different directions.  We’ve grown in love and gratefulness for a Father who is with us through whatever comes our way and has the words that lead us to life.  Our prayer is that this season you will know the reality of “God with you!”  You are not alone, not matter what circumstances argue to the contrary and no matter how dark the night feels.  You are deeply loved by the creator of the universe, and in that increadle truth Sara and I pray that you will have a blessed Christmas season, and the fullest of joys in the year ahead.  Thank you for all the love and friendship you’ve extended towards us in large ways and small ones. Thanks for being on the journey of Life and by doing so give encouragement to ours.