Darkness and Butterflies

“…All of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory.  And I realize just how beautiful You are, and how great Your affections are for me.  Oh how He loves.” –John Mark McMillan

The other day I got into a fight with a butterfly.  No, it isn’t as silly a sight as it sounds…well not quite.  I was doing some evening gardening and had the garage door open.  When I went in to get a rake I noticed a beautiful butterfly fluttering around, trapped inside the garage.

Normally I wouldn’t think too much of this, and have from time to time even pinned butterflies. I am not some overly-indulgent animal lover.  But this time I felt a little bit of sadness for the poor creature.  To her, she was trapped in some inescapable cave.  I took pity on her.  I decided it was female, not because of some butterfly expertise, but because I simply cannot imagine a male butterfly, though I know they must actually exist.  So with the creature properly personified, I was committed to action.

I grabbed the ladder with the intent of reaching up to the ceiling and gently cupping her in my hand, then releasing her outside.  But just at the instant my plan was about to work, she deftly avoided my grasp in the way that only bugs and small children can.  This set off a several minute period of me moving the ladder and repeating the procedure repeatedly with utter futility.  The butterfly did not appreciate any of my efforts.

As I was pondering the absurdity of the situation and how terrifying this must be to the butterfly, I watched the butterfly frantically moving from ceiling to wall to ceiling and narrowly escaping multiple spider webs.  Convinced that I was beaten in the summer butterfly campaign of 2010, I surrendered and retreated to my house in defeat.

In the morning, the butterfly was far from the front of my mind as I opened the door to get in my car, and was surprised to see the butterfly sweep out of the door into the open air.  She fluttered about low to the ground above my flower bed, and then climbed into the sky with the semi-inebriated flight style that butterflies seem to enjoy.  I smiled.  She was free.

So many times, I feel like that butterfly.  I sit in situations, toxic and painful, sometimes afraid to move, and bumping around my panic, avoiding traps both real and imagined.  I desperately want to find the light, to feel free and supported by fresh air and freedom.  I long for hands, caring and immense, to carry me to such a place.

I believe in those hands.  I believe that God frantically climbs ladders and reaches for me, but it is often difficult to tell those loving hands from giants bent on my destruction.  I know he loves me.  I pray for the doors to open so I can sweep into the sky with a clumsy sense of freedom. But right now, I just feel small.  And maybe if I quiet myself enough and don’t focus on the walls, I can just feel His hands envelop me.

Hold me and carry me.  I long for your immense gentleness to surround me and take me where you will.  I miss those hands, and I fear you will give up and let me bump around my prison in the dark.  You promise to strengthen your people and give them peace (Psalm 29).  Carry me.  Let me fly again in your light.  -Ryan

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Ahmed and God

I met Ahmed at the mall. I wasn’t looking to talk to him, but I was asking God that I be aware of anything He was doing around me. This isn’t something I do regularly. Its partly because I am often turned in to myself, only thinking and doing what relates to my little slice of the world. But, it is also due to the fact that God usually answers that prayer by showing me something He is doing. He interjects me into someone else’s little world, and a lot of times in my selfishness I don’t want to deal with that…(click the header to read the full article)

Small Miracles

One of my favorite quotes comes from G.K. Chesterton. I won’t quote the whole thing verbatim here (although I can from memory). But basically it says that God has the eternal appetite of youth, and makes every single sunset and daisy separately, but has never gotten tired of making them. “For we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is far younger than we.”… (Click the header to read the full article)

The Most Holy Time

I admit it.  I’ve been in some kind of funk lately.  No actually, not lately, this has been going on for some time now.  The exact nature of this funk is difficult to describe, and especially so when I am trying to do so without offending the sensibilities of proper and sincere religious people.  I [...]

Learning Faith -Part 3

This is part three in a 3 part series on how we educate the next generation in matters of faith.

Learning Faith -Part 2

This is part two in a 3 part series on how we educate the next generation in matters of faith. Read part one, and stay tuned for part three.

Learning Faith -Part 1

This is part one in a 3 part series on how we educate the next generation in matters of faith. Faith as Meme I am currently reading a book about memes.  Everyone I mention this to asks me the same immediate question.  “What in the heck is a meme?”   Then I begin the inordinately long [...]

Rated Argh!

I recently had a discussion with one of the older members of my youth group present where we discussed the movie Schindler’s List. I said that movie was one of the very few movies I’ve ever seen in which the sex scenes were valuable to the story-line, and that I felt weren’t a barrier to me watching. She seemed a bit shocked that I would say something like that. So did several others (everyone else was an adult), and I felt myself trying to back out of the rhetorical corner I had put myself in. I don’t feel that I did a good job of explanation. Maybe I’ll do better here… (click the title above to read the rest of this article)

Some Videos from Asia

Here are just some of the videos that Peichi and I made in Asia.  We made them mostly for our youth group in Texas.  I hope you enjoy watching even close to as much as we did making them.  Several places, crowds gathered as we made the videos and asked me afterward if I was someone famous.  Of course, I am.

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At YWAM – Day 3

I am writing this on Thursday, simply because Wednesday was way too full to post.

Yesterday was another amazing day.  I left the base in the early afternoon, so it doesn’t really count as a full ‘day’ but it was full nonetheless.  My morning started out with reading the Bible and prayer, but then I got to my guitar and decided to play some worship.  I played through songs as I randomly flipped through my music book.  I was having a pretty good time in worship.

I used to worship like that on my own quite often, especially after I got back from my first missionary tour.  I would sing and play through songs that I knew, and suddenly as I hit upon some random song that struck me, the Holy Spirit of God would just kind of pour over me.  My friend Harold says “The Spirit gushes out like a fountain.”  I guess that is the best way to describe it.

As I was worshiping on Wednesday morning I hit on an old hymn, “How Great Thou Art.”  I have never had hymns mean all that much to me, really.  I didn’t grow up with them all that much.  The third stanza says,

And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

I couldn’t finish that last line.  I was on my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks, suddenly hit with the power of God’s Spirit, and the fact that God would go to the cross for me, for what I’ve done, for all my rebellion.  It isn’t fair.  As God sprang out of me like a fountain, I wept out of joy, out of sorrow, out of repentance, out of thankfulness, all at once.  I hadn’t felt that in quite a while.

After all of that, I remembered Harold, and that he had called me a few weeks ago, and asked me to call a friend of his who had been doing inner-city missions work.  So, I decided to call him.  We talked for quite a while.  He told me that he and his wife had met Harold because Harold had opened a door for them, and they struck up a conversation.  He was from the Seattle area.  Harold had made it a point to keep in touch and to regularly pray for he and his wife.

He told me that recently he had been out in Idaho at a parade for some special occasion (maybe it was Thanksgiving) and he looked at the guy next to him, and unbelievably it happened to be Harold!  He then paused and said, “You know, out of all of the men who have ever been anything like a mentor to me in my life, Harold has got to be in the top 5.”

All because he happened to be caught in Harold’s tractor beam as he opened a door.

I want to be like Harold some day when I grow up.  Harold is in his 80′s.  Harold should by all accounts be kickin’ it at some Sun City somewhere.  Instead, he takes every day and every meeting as a chance to really make a difference in someone’s life.  I think Harold is in my top 5 too.  He is my hero.

I spent time saying goodbyes to the Thorstads, and looking around the YWAM base one last time.  I’ll be back here, I prophesied.

I hope that no one misunderstands my purpose in writing this.  It could seem like I’m being really self-indulgent here, writing everything about myself and my week, like some Twittiot (my word) telling the world about his mid-afternoon snack.  That really isn’t my heart here at all.  I knew I would have some incredible experiences this week, and I want to chronicle it all for me, if no one else.  But maybe my experiences will find some way of blessing someone else.  In 1 Corinthians chapter 1, Paul mentions that God has chosen the weak and fooling things/people of this world in order that we could not boast in ourselves, but in God alone.  I have written this short blog series as a point to say, “I am one of those weak and foolish people.”  It is Jesus who this series is about.  It is He who made my week noteworthy.  My attempts to even describe it are largely in vain, but I would shame Him if I didn’t try my best.

And a little fun from Tuesday:

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