Monthly Archive for November, 2009

I’m back after a five-day hiatus. I won’t assume you all missed me, and I won’t assume you all didn’t either. Here’s what has been going on:

- Training for my job is over and I am working full-time as a technician at a Verizon store. The hours are wonky and the work is sometimes monotonous, and yes, it’s retail — but it’s a job and I am thankful for it. It more than pays the bills so I strive to put my best foot forward in everything I do there.

- Thanksgiving was very cool. I spent it with good family friends, the Baker family…we had attended church with them in Vancouver and Kelso over the years. They are all great people and many members of the extended family were there. They took me in and even went so far as to call me one of their adopted extended family. I can’t think of better people to have spent the holiday with and I appreciate their kindness and generosity.

- Speaking of work, my schedule is such that I am unable to attend church on Sundays for the foreseeable future. However, I do have Wednesday evenings off and I am fortunate enough to open so I will have some weekdays free. I am contemplating starting a Bible study once I get my apartment furnished. If that ever happens, that is.

For now, that is about it. I plan to launch a new bi-weekly podcast soon and will have more details on that. Ciao.

I have some short, rambling thoughts on the manifestations of the Holy Spirit that have popped up since I had a conversation about the “church experience” with a friend over lunch on Saturday.

First off, I have always wondered why many people in leadership in the churches I attended when I was younger believe that speaking in tongues is considered one of the most coveted of all spiritual gifts. The Bible clearly and plainly states that tongues is the least of all the spiritual gifts, with prophecy being the top gift to be sought (1 Corinthians 14).

I flat out want to know why that is a pervasive mindset in many Pentecostal churches today.

I want to know, because God knows that as a young person even though my heart was in the right place, I faked the gift numerous times because I was pressured to “receive the gift, it’s yours” with no explanation of how to receive it, why it was beneficial to my Christian walk, or how on earth the people coercing me to speak in tongues received it themselves in the first place (I detailed this in a previous post on the same subject).

The point I am trying to get across is that flawed theology being taught over a consistent period of time can really impact the recipient negatively. No one in particular is to blame, but in actuality I can place the blame squarely on a mindset in Christian circles in which I associated when I was younger and even sometimes more recently, that placed a heavy emphasis on the ability to speak in tongues and fostered a feeling of one being of a lower spiritual value or on a lower tier in their walk with Christ if they didn’t have the gift.

Fortunately, this experience hasn’t caused me to throw the baby out with the bathwater…I can look back in my life and count the instances I directly remember where a word was given in tongues and interpreted, that was legitimate and truthful, and that meant something at that point in time. Does that mean other instances don’t count? No, maybe the intentions were good but as humans normally do, we can screw things up.

I am glad that I’ve since learned that the gift of tongues, as with other spiritual gifts, is much more sacred than I was ever taught that it was. I am also glad that the Holy Spirit dwells with us at the moment of salvation and there is no “three-step process” to receiving the Holy Spirit, as I heard for so many years. God doesn’t dangle His blessings on a string and we shouldn’t make people think He does, either.

I say all of that to say this…that instead of having a negative influence upon my life, the way I was taught in the past has caused me to branch out and actively seek the truth for myself in a way that I know is tangible and that I can know in my own heart will be a blessing to others as well as myself. Such events as described above are what has led me at this moment in time to valuable relational teaching of the truth in the Bible, and praying one for another in a way the other person is blessed, doesn’t question what has transpired, and knows something concrete and life-changing has occurred.

I’m on a journey to find the truth and even though I won’t find it all before I die, I want to find as much as I can.

This upcoming Tuesday, a group of brave souls will gather to complete The Second Iteration of the BWW Gauntlet Challenge.

The event is free and open to those in the Portland/Vancouver area in my social circle…I’m just announcing it here so the rest of you can pray for us as we partake in a redux of the earlier event of sheer idiocy.

For those wishing to join, we will be meeting at the BWW in downtown Portland at 3rd and Morrison. We’re meeting at 7 because that’s when parking is free on downtown streets.

So here’s how it’s done:

- There are fourteen (14) flavors of wings available on the Buffalo Wild Wings menu. In order to defeat the Gauntlet, one must successfully ingest one of each flavor.

- The wings will be passed around one by one, from person to person, from mildest to wildest. A Moderator will be selected to signal the start time for eating each wing. Eat as a group to ensure everyone ingests each wing and no one cheats.

- There is no time requirement for the first seven wings; however, from Asian Zing to Blazin’, each participant is REQUIRED to spend ONE FULL MINUTE on each wing, no less. Any time spent on a wing of less than a minute results in disqualification from the Gauntlet.

- Participants may call for a break in between each wing in order to take a drink or partake of celery and ranch. However, once everyone is ready for the next wing, the next round begins.

- Upon completion of the Blazin’ wing, each participant is a certified Village Idiot.

- FYI, the restrooms at BWW are small. I suggest running across the street to the top level of Pioneer Place and using the ones at the theatre should an emergency arise. If last time was any indication, we may have to dial 911 at some point.

That’s about it. We’re gonna have some fun. Photos of the event will be shot and uploaded.

Growing up, I loved to watch my mom cook and was blessed to enjoy the benefit of her labor nearly every evening around the table back home in Rainier. We would sit down to eat and partake of homemade breads, casseroles, even dishes made from scratch. You name the dish, my mom could make it.

You’d think a tremendous skill like that would be hereditary, right?

Not exactly. For years, I’d watch Mom go about her business in the kitchen, whipping up concoctions from out of nowhere, yet I could barely understand how it was done.

I was fearful of the oven…it was because of my hernia surgery at age three that had for the longest time rendered me cripplingly fearful of anything that I thought could cause significant injury. I had it instilled in my mind throughout my childhood that anything that could maim or kill me would, and that included such household items as the stove and oven.

Go ahead and laugh all you want. My fears were real, even if they were never realized.

But oh, how time changes things.

Tonight, in my mess of an apartment, as unfurnished as it is with boxes full of household items and personal effects strewn all over the place…I found myself slaving over a stove and enjoying it.

It wasn’t exactly Sybil Brewer material, but I worked up a concoction of pasta with cheese, alfredo sauce and tomatoes. Even made a salad on the side too.

No, I can’t slice and dice like my mom could, and maybe the pasta was a little overcooked. But as I sat at the bar and ate, I felt proud of what I had done. Yes, at age 25, proud that I can cook, albeit for a different reason that most would be proud.

I’ve cooked many times before, and yeah, I’ve put some thought into dishes that sounded good in theory but my taste buds didn’t agree with. I’ve even mistaken salt for sugar in cookie recipes, for crying out loud.

But tonight, I reflected upon my time standing at the oven and getting dangerously close on several occasions to burning my fingers — something I never would have done as a child. As I ate, I chuckled at the thought that I had actually been scared of something I thought that could hurt me, and had never realized that it could only hurt me if I made it do so.

Tonight the stove didn’t hurt me. In fact, it assisted me in whipping up a neat little meal from scratch around 10 p.m.

If only I could have shared the meal with friends…

This might amaze some of you. Others will probably be freaked out. There are those that simply won’t care…but this blew my mind out of the water.

Last night I had a dream, and I remember every detail of it vividly. I don’t normally remember dreams I have in great detail…sometimes I’ll have a dream about my hometown of Rainier, Oregon and it will contain an elevated freeway above it with big-box stores and such, but those are about the only hazy details I remember. However, this dream involved something that I’ve never been shown in a dream — yet I remember it in perfect detail.

In the dream, I was walking throughout a rather large church. Probably the biggest one I had ever been in…what was odd is that I saw most of my friends there. All my Christian friends, some who are on the fence about the deal, and others who aren’t even remotely sold on the idea…they were all there.

I didn’t get a chance to greet everyone, because people started flocking to this massive auditorium that rivaled the largest sports arena I’d ever seen. As soon as everyone was inside, one person got up front and began to sing a song. Then a group of people joined him to sing as well. I particularly noticed there were no instruments, but somehow a chord was playing throughout the entire song.

It didn’t look like there was a sound system to be seen in the entire place. Oddly enough, however, I heard everything with perfect clarity even though it seemed if I tried to get down to the stage it would take an eternity.

What’s really odd, interesting, insane, amazing, whatever you want to call it about this dream is what they sang. I took in every word even though I didn’t see lyrics on a screen…I and everyone around me were singing it in unison.

It seemed like a perfect harmony of all Christian believers and even those who didn’t believe all professing a fundamental truth, the very essence and glory of Jesus Christ.

I woke up at 4:47 a.m. and wrote down every word I had heard in the dream.

It goes as follows, and I apologize if it’s not verbatim:

CHORUS
You gave us life with but one breath
With just three words, You conquered death
Rolled back the stone, cast off our sins
And promised You’d return again.

VERSE
So unto that day, we all shall sing
Of the love of our Father and our King
Pledge to the world Your message bring
Exalting Your name in everything.

Let me stand under the cleansing flood
Joining those purchased by Your blood
May I be enraptured in Your love
Proclaiming the glory of God above

All praise the Father, praise the Son
And praise the Spirit, three in one
Run the good race until you’re done
Throw back to Him the crown you’ve won.

I still sit here stunned that I remember every word. Even more amazing is that I remember the melody to the song…I wish I knew a musical instrument of some sort because I’d record this song ASAP. Not to bring any glory to myself at all, because that’s not the focus of the song or the dream — rather, every word points out the fundamental truth that I am second and Jesus is Lord.

Here’s a call going out to anyone with a similar mindset that possesses musical talent: can anyone help me record some music to this and potentially sing it out as well? It’s sort of an odd request but something like this, I believe, could help minister to some people (and I DON’T say that just because I’m involved).

I need someone with musical talent, stat!