looking up at you from the flat of my back

This past weekend, I drove with Mim and Jeanne to attend the Hillsong United Encounter event in Miami.

To be honest, I have had a lot of trouble over the past few weeks adjusting to life back in Orlando. Don't get me wrong: I've much enjoyed re-connecting with family and friends. I enjoy $2.50 movies and cheap books and ChickFila and quality salads and good Mexican food. I love late nights with with friends on front porches and not having to explain what LOST is to an Aussie for the millionth time.

But over the past couple of weeks, the sharp contrast between American and Australian culture has simply irritated me. Depressed me, even. America just feels the annoying neighbor that's just loud and flashy and rude. I've also felt creatively dry. Every time I've sit in front of my piano or with my guitar or in front of a computer screen, I feel like I am forcing myself to be profound and interesting, and have simply turned up dry. I haven't been blogging because I quite honestly do not feel like I have a whole lot to say, or at least anything that people will find remotely interesting.

I love my church community here in Status, but sometimes I feel like the the significant attitude and paradigm shifts that I felt like I was beginning to catch a glimpse of while in Australia have simply slipped away, swallowed up once again by a cynical, let's-hold-God-at-an-intellectual-arms-length-so-we-can-be-simultaneously-being-cool-and-articulate-mindset (wow, that's a lot of hyphens). The vibrancy of the hopeful, believing, life-changing attitude that seems to pervade the entire Hillsong Church--and it really is infectious--seemed to dissipate within a few weeks of being back home.

In essence, the very thing I was afraid of since coming back to Orlando was coming true.

On top of that, I still have no job. There are a few prospects that are promising, but since I have been looking for a job since June, the strain of uncertainty and unemployment has begun to wear on me. And it shows. I've felt emotionally fragile. I've sobbed. I've overanalyzed. I've become anxious.

I had a moment earlier this week when I felt refreshed and I was secretly grateful that this moment came prior to going to Hillsong Encounter. I did not want to rely on an event or a program to lift my spirits or give me an "emotional high." In His own way, God reminded me that He is still sovereign.

But by the time Friday hit, I was ready for Hillsong.

Going to Miami this weekend felt like I was momentarily teleported to Sydney. Seeing leaders like Brian and Bobbie Houston and the Hillsong United team, it was like being back at the City campus in downtown Sydney. There was something comforting about Aussie accents and even hearing them talk about the city and church in such a familiar way. I attended all the worship sessions and even attended a couple of breakout sessions, one on songwriting with Joel Houston, Brooke Ligertwood and Matt Crocker, and the other with Jad Gillies (worship leader of the Hills campus) and the entire Hillsong United team for an in-depth discussion on worship leading.

Saturday night, they closed the event out with an intense three-and-a-half hour session of praise and worship and a message by Scott "Sanga" Samways, who absolutely KILLED it. He preached with such passion and authority on the significance and power of the blood and sacrifice of Jesus.

Saturday night was basically a Hillsong United "Greatest Hits" love fest. If you have never been to a Hillsong United concert or event, let me warn you: it involves hopping. Lots and lots of hopping. And punching the air with your first.

Superficially, at least.

It also involves God knocking you on to the flat of your back.

Take Saturday night. They played all of the really high-energy, fist-pumping songs like "No Reason to Hide" and "Your Name High." They also did the epic songs like "Tear Down the Walls" and "With Everything", songs that have become personal favorites and anthems over the past couple of months. Hillsong also did well-known faves like "Mighty to Save" and "Hosanna."

Toward the second half of the set, they started playing "From the Inside Out."

This song has been shelved recently in my iPod playlist, mostly because it's an earlier song and because there are lots of new songs to be excited about. I kind of forgot it used to be one of my favorites, along with "Hosanna." So when they re-introduced the song, complete with a funky new riff, it came as a surprise.

I was not prepared for what happened in the next few moments.

It was as if all the uncertainty and disappointment and emotion of the past few weeks came crashing down on me during the song. The lyrics took on a whole different meaning for me as I stood there next to Jeanne and Tiff, underneath the brightly colored lights.

The lyrics, which I have heard dozens and dozens of times before, go like this:

A thousand times I've failed, still Your mercy remains
Should I stumble again, still I'm caught in Your grace

A thought suddenly struck me. Although I felt like I was experiencing a fantastic--even exhilarating time this weekend, something within me was unsettled, unhappy with my own attitude, knowing something needed to shift. In this moment, I felt my attitude completely stripped down. I became intensely aware of my flaws and weaknesses and insecurities, the reality of which has been laid heavily upon my soul lately. I constantly see my selfishness play out, a sharp contrast to the selflessness and life of service I believing the Spirit of God is continually molding me toward. Combine this with the fact that I had just heard Sanga preach passionately about the sacrifice of Jesus, I felt like a new believer again: in wondrous amazement that I could ever be included in anything significant and redemptive that the Lord was doing in the world. I have felt the suffocating, stomach-turning weight of failure, and I realized for the thousandth time, how much I am in need of grace that can only come from God.

Your will above all else, my purpose remains
The art of losing myself in bringing You praise

One of the major things I came away with from Australia was a call to re-enter the worship leading sphere, this time with more focus and purpose. Over the weekend, I have become intensely aware of my need to learn. Listening to Brooke and Jad and Joel and the rest of the team speak about their experiences and perspective, I realized that despite all of my experience and knowledge and background, I have so much to learn musically and spiritually. I sensed the Spirit once again returning me to a place of humility and unknowing. I feel completely inadequate and completely in touch with the extent of my brokenness.

Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Neverending, Your glory goes beyond all fame

By the time we sung these words, I was absolutely bawling. And although I have cried a few times in the past few weeks, I absolutely cannot remember the last time I have been in utter tears while singing to God, and BELIEVING what I'm singing to Him.

These words suddenly seemed alive and pregnant with meaning. They seemed to articulate all of the struggles I've had recently with remembering Australia, holding on to the things I've learned, and being worried that I wouldn't change. Or the truths that I've become so confident and sure of would simply fade away in time, leaving no real mark upon my life.

For the past few weeks, I have struggled immensely with the idea of leaving Australia--particularly Hillsong Church--behind. I remember even a couple of weeks ago, Jeanne expressed to me that she missed Australia. I casually shrugged and said I didn't miss it. And I didn't. At the moment anyway. Because I wasn't thinking about it. Or maybe I was trying not to think about it.

But since then, I've realized I have become so attached to the way I see faith expressed and lived out in the hearts and lives of the people I met and observed. The atmosphere there is absolutely charged with belief in transformation. I've had many conversations lately with a few close friends on the possibility of transformation. In Orlando, it's harder to believe that change is possible because a spirit of doubt and cynicism seems to prevail here sometimes.

I sense God doing something powerful and miraculous in the midst of the church in Sydney. I have become so inspired by and attached to the positivity, the vision, the vibrancy, that I forget that the purposes and glory of God far outweighs cultural differences and preferences. Even hearing Brian and Sanga and others talk this week, I see how passionately committed they are to the community in Sydney. The deep love and commitment they have for the church back home is so incredibly apparent.

Those lyrics instantaneously made me remember that the glory of God far outweighs and exceeds even Hillsong Church. I have been relying so much on this church for a sense of purpose and connectedness to God. The hope and vision and perspective imparted to me on a consistent basis really did help elevate my awareness of the Lord. I realized the fallacy of my thinking in letting Australia and Hillsong fade from my memory, from my grasp. The glory and fame of God far outweighs the platform and reach of even Hillsong Church. As far-reaching and influential as that church is, it pales in comparison to the power and possibility in God. In a sense, God stripped even Hillsong Church away from me in this moment, and overwhelmed me with the magnitude of His presence that is eternal and steadfast and infinite and beautiful.

And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise
From the inside out, Lord, my heart cries out

With no true, extended amounts of alone time for the past six months, I realized that that has significantly altered my ability re-engage intimately with God. As a result, I haven't approached Him as often or as honestly or relationally as my soul obviously needs Him through continual acts of worship and devotion. It's not simply time clocked in or things I need to do: it's a complete attitude shift. Although things I need to do are clearer: in terms of worship leading and serving and investing in people, I remember over and over again how important it is to stay bathed and immersed in the Source. Every act of love or service I do is rendered meaningless if I am not doing this as a result of intimacy with and worship of God, through Jesus and with a sensitivity to the Spirit.

God did something significant in my own heart the final weeks we were in Sydney. I was reminded this weekend that vision is a long-term thing. Something that will require commitment, perseverance, patience and prayer. So much of the transition back here has been governed by my feelings and preferences, and I have to remember that God's perspective of His kingdom is so much grander and beautiful than my own.

And that these things are possible.

From Shantaram

"The starving, the dead, the slaves. And through it all, the purr and rustle of Prabaker's voice. there's a truth that's deeper than experience. It's beyond what we see, or even what we feel. It's an order of truth that separates the profound from the merely clever, and the reality from the perception. We're helpless, usually, in the face of it; and the cost of knowing it, like the cost of knowing love, is sometimes greater than any heart would willingly pay. It doesn't always help us to love the world, but it does prevent us from hating the world. And the only way to know the truth is to share it, from heart to heart, just as Prabaker told it to me just as I'm telling it to you now."

-Lin from Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts

a two-fold dream

I dreamt I was on a naval ship. At first, I thought the evacuation siren was a drill, but then I saw the dark, mechanical army above me, advancing in clouds. Bomber aircraft soared overhead, and the place I stood was enveloped in flames. Fire rained down, and wreckage fell from the sky, crashing down twisted, burning, smoking metal all around me. I did not see, but I sensed death and suffering all around me.

In the aftermath, the captain struggled with the question of whom to save. In that moment, I could tangibly see our perspectives diverge. It was as if I could see both through his eyes and my eyes simultaneously.

Through my eyes, I could clearly see a woman struggling to stay afloat, not far from where our ship had stalled, crippled by the attack. Despite the darkness and the thrashing sea around us, I could hear her voice, calling out for help. For rescue.

And it was within our power to do so.

Yet through the captain's eyes, the woman was thousands of leagues away. A mere blip on the radar screen. He tried to tell me she was too far away, and there was no sense in rescuing one so far off, with so many around us who were dying, struggling to stay alive.

The dream ends with a soul drowning in logic and resignation.

I dreamt I was in a house with friends, many friends. A thief somehow circumvented our awareness, stole into our rooms and cleaned out the entire house. Everything of value was taken, except for my piano and guitar. My friends and I gathered at the house to take inventory of what had been stolen and to move our possessions to a safer location. I went inside to retrieve my keyboard and guitar. For once, the keyboard did not feel heavy under my arm. I carried it quite easily. As the footsteps of my friends retreated upstairs, I suddenly felt a dark presence around me. I could sense the thief was still in the house. And I was alone. I hurried outside to rejoin my friends, and suddenly felt safe as I stepped out into the light, and into the presence of familiar faces.

I wonder at these dreams, because they seem so far removed from the emotions of today, of this weekend. I feel peaceful, thankful, full of resolve. And yet I felt the torment and struggle and destruction, as I became Theft and Death's sole witness and survivor.

A friend wrote to to me that worship is the most powerful weapon against the enemy, an enemy that seeks to steal, kill and destroy.

Perhaps this is why, I somehow emerged from the scene of a crime unscathed, armed only with instruments to be used in praise and illumination of Truth.

"...a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair."

this will soon be over.

This will soon be over.

Sometimes you think I am not listening. You tell me so. And you are right. My mind wanders, I tell you. I am glad this admission of mine throws you off the scent somewhat, because I'd rather you not know how deeply I've furrowed these caves of mine, carving out infinite space for meeting with you.

In this vast underworld of mine, I slow down all orbits and revolutions, only that I may greedily prolong these moments.

I am helpless to stop it.

I have tasted the salt of ferocity crashing upon the shore, of sweet eucalyptus drifting and dancing through the treetops. I have inhaled this scent, which my lungs have desperately fought to memorize. These self-portraits can never show our deepest colors, how brightly we shine. Or how our intertwined paths wind through cities, across bridges, down grocery aisles and subway escalators, across tidal pools and beaten-down sidewalks, through alleyways and up through sanctuaries. They all resonate with the sound of our breath and our banter, our yearnings, fears, musings and hopes. The biting cold that settles deep within our marrow shall soon evaporate, swallowed up in the heat and its thickness.

I am fearful I will lose this certainty. That Doubt might brazenly usurp Hope's throne, after such a brief but breathtakingly glorious reign.

But perfect Love does not merely cast out Fear--it vanquishes it.

So I will sing its annihilation, like the foolish dreamer that I am.

in a constant state of learning

Yes, it's true.

I am coming home to Orlando at the end of the month. There were a lot of factors playing into this seemingly unexpected decision. Finances, jobs, missing home, and several other internal reasons that I may or may not get into. But whatever the reasons, I feel as though I've crossed from one vista to another, and have a unique opportunity to stop, take a rest on a bench, and contemplate the scope that lies behind me and before me.

Martin Luther once famously said "All of life is repentance."

Repentance is a continual return. Re-orientation. Perpetual redemption. A shift toward God, and away from self. This is an art that is never mastered, but always catalyzed by the Spirit in a tried and true, ancient way that somehow never fails to surprise. I'm finding that often God interacts on a profound, mysterious, intricate level with our own free will and decisions, orchestrating things to bring us to transformation and growth.

Repentance reminds me that I am not the Teacher, but the student. I must constantly shift and adjust my attitude in light of how God is moving in my life and in the lives of people around me.

I feel like I am in a constant state of learning. This trip in Australia if nothing else has brought me to a constant state of humiliation, where I confront again and again how little of life I know and understand.

I am not saying I have mastered any of this, only that my eyes have been opened, and my vision clarified just a bit more in light of my experiences.

From Australia, I am learning how beautiful and vast this world is. I am learning generosity, and hopefully how to worry maybe just a little bit less.

From Walter, I am learning the incredible importance of family, and how crucial it is to love, appreciate and spend time with them.

From Ellie and her family, I am learning openheartedness and warmth through shared meals and board games.

From Michael Ondaatje, I am learning again how writers can capture truth and beauty through language. How they make words sing.

From Tim Keller, I am learning to come to grips about what the Bible says about marriage, what I truly think, want, and believe about marriage, and how I want to be a better friend in all of my relationships.

From Christian, I am learning about a spirit of generosity and servanthood and kindness.

From Hillsong Church, I am learning the importance of reconciling an intellectual faith with a passionate, spontaneous, emotional faith. I am learning the joy of inclusive love, kindness, hospitality. And I am acknowledging the power of openly worshiping and declaring truth and faith and hope. I am learning refreshment and joy.

From Jeanne, I am learning the necessity and redemptive power of constant communication and friendship. I have learned the importance of constantly investing in people, how to be honest, vulnerable and consistent. And how to be more efficient:)

The feelings and emotions I believe that I currently have regarding Australia and this constant state of learning (repentance) is something that I know will fade in time. However, I am praying that God will help seal these experiences and knowledge within my heart, that they will be deeply internalized, worked out in the details and decisions of my life.

Jeanne has declared the following to be her favorite Hillsong song. I actually finally listened to all of the lyrics of the chorus early this morning and I was stunned at how the words and melody and music together so simply and beautifully captured this idea of redemption and transformation and growth, in light of God's glory.

Your Name is Glorious, glorious
Your love is changing us, calling us
To worship in Spirit and in truth
As all creation returns to you

May our hearts be set upon and continually transformed by this incredible truth.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears,we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure." I John 3:1-3

the sky exploded

One evening,
the sky exploded.

It rained fire and light upon us
And we felt time and space wrinkle
for the briefest of moments

We created fire of our own
on cool, clear nights
Forging and welding us
Knitting us through and through
to joy and smoke and heat
on the far side of this floating island.

The explosion rocks the universe
Rending it
We peel the night back
And examine the stars
and the nights from which they fell.

That was after the night
I dreamt we drifted
as a mist through your mansion
Your secret labyrinth
Conceived and carried and birthed by you

Although it was not quite you.

We wandered, winding through mirrored hallways
Lamp-lit tunnels fragrant with your ardor and mystery
Sensuously draping the tapestried walls
like garments flung off
in the heat of night.

Last summertime
We watched you perform from afar
And you,
You transfixed all.

You seduce time and physics
While the audience waits in exquisite torture
tense and enthralled
like the eternity that looms
in a prelude to a kiss.

the orange tree grows in but a breath of a moment.

You produce marvel
and splendor upon splendor
You confounded all.

Yet as we tread lightly upon
these marble hallways of your dominion
I see the trick

Beautiful, yet not cheapened
in its simplicity

You and I,
we laugh in delight
in clarity
in joy
in understanding

A shadowed figure haunts our steps with his cunning
He, too, peruses
As lost in his reverie
as we.

I corner him, daring to pull back his hood
to find a guileless face
And horror falls away
with this soul recognition.

And even here,
In this dreamworld,
I am reassured

That things will be all right.

the astronomist

It is blasphemously cold tonight, but that does not concern her.

She slips out of the window, planting her bare feet in the blanket of snow of the overhang. The thin green flannel afghan is all that shields her frailty from the intrusion of the wind.

The crescent moon hung low in the sky, the better half of it shrouded by the shadow cast by the earth. She glances up, knows the metaphor painted in the night sky is reflected in earthly caution, in contrivance. She knew someone once who only allowed certain bits of brilliance to be reflected in his words and actions toward her. The meaning, the motive was always shrouded.

Whether this was perception or reality, she did not know. At least with the rotating, spinning, revolving bodies in the universe, there were discernable laws of gravity and energy governing their motion. Calculation and observation could always be counted upon to unveil some kind of understanding or new theory.

Paradoxes and paranormal. Seems to reflect the dual, contradictory nature of quantum physics.

The moon, however shrouded and mysterious, still seemed familiar and true when compared to the infinitely burgeoning universe.

She swings the telescope to focus on two distant points of light. One burns brightly, hard and bright and blue. A brilliant star in its prime. The latest observation and mathematical calculations conclude the star is barely 5 million years old. It has been burning, emanating energy, pulsating and releasing light and heat into the cold and dark of space. Nearby planets and moons find themselves gravitating, settling in toward it, compelled and seduced by its youth and brilliance.

But again, this does not concern her.

Lingering in its shadow, the star is dying, a nebula unfolding and collapsing and surrendering to the chaos and order, dictated by physics and time. As the light and dust swirls together, she imagines a lone astronaut soaring through its tendrils, ephemeral and gentle. His ship brazenly floats past the point of no return, seduced and thrilled by thoughts of death, and of immortality. He is fascinated, obsessed, slightly suicidal, but mostly passionate. He is searching for life, for the power to master his destiny and his love.

The terror of exploring the universe shrinks in comparison to pushing on through the mystery of another human being.

She shivers, draws the blanket closer around her, thinks she should go inside.

But she remains outside for a few more moments, luminous, lonely and wholly captured by the myth unfolding above and within her.