Sunday, September 2, 2007


"so is this night church thing dead?"

We are such victims of routine, such fearers of stagnancy - that a lapse in implied order can bring about not only a crippling sense of confusion - it can lead us to thinking we can control the waves, that we can keep the momentum up.

He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.

Waves. One of the few words that seemed to escape my mouth in a moment of confused prayer was waves. Feeling bold, I decided to pray give 'er a whirl and pray away - not really getting the meaning of what was comming out, and just hoping no one would ask for an explanation. Feeling strongly about this, I followed up into an email to the person with whom the prayer was directed. Half hoping they would provide me with some insight into my own words. Nope. And lying in a semi-uncoscious state this afternoon on my bed, again, waves waves waves.

The destructive beauty of a wave smashing against a rock, completely gone - holds strong metaphorical significance for me. Seeking out the streams, and finding those waves that we should ride out, and those waves which really have yet to even reach their size demands an attention that I lack. It requires a flexibility to move when the wave is going to smash - a reduction in pride to admit that what you thought was a wave, was really a ripple. A patience when the wave is building momentum well below the sea level (and you're wanting to jump wave) and a certain sense of strength, because more often than not - standing up to waves, avoiding them and even riding them takes everything out of you.

And as fighting the waves is both useless and exhausting, creating waves is equally as futile.

I can't say I know what I meant when I was praying for waves - I am reminded however that Jesus ultimately was the one who could fall asleep in a boat that was just getting hammered by them - and, at the right time - just tell them to stop.

Start your school, start your church. Start casting your vision and start deciding where to spend your time. But start noticing where the streams are - where the waves are. Where have they smashed in and poetically destroyed the houses - and where are those that should be ridden?

The sea will rise over Babylon; its roaring waves will cover her.

The seas have lifted up, O LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice; the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.

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