Collapsed

There was an artist that had the idea of painting a picture of the modern-day prodigal son.  (If you don't know the story of the prodigal son, you can go to Luke 15:11-32).  In order to capture the desperation and hopelessness of the prodigal son, the artist wanted to find a man who was down to his last dime of life.  He wanted a man who was dirty and grimy, clothes stained of tears and sweat.  He had to go all the way to downtown where many such men lived on street corners.  He came across one man, sitting on the ground, leaning up against the brick wall of a tall building, his knees pointing up through his ripped jeans, head buried in his hands, his puffy jacket making him look like a shivering ball, weeping.  The artist walked up to him, bent down and asked the man, "I'm an artist.  I was wondering if I could paint a picture of you.  Could I pay you to come down by my studio down the street tomorrow morning?"  The next day came, and with great anticipation of a beautiful time painting the prodigal son, the artist answered the knocks on his door.  It was the man but to the artist's surprise, there in the doorway stood a clean-shaven, shirt-and-tie-wearing man.  He wanted to appear nice in the picture.  The artist looked at him, disappointed and said, "I cannot use you."

This story was told at our church service last Wednesday.  The preacher went on to say how our church clothes (suits, fancy hats) can do an great job of hiding who we are, how we are actually struggling and imperfect people.  Something the pastor said made me imagine something.  If everybody came to church as they are, put their weaknesses, sinful patterns, struggles, and wore them on their sleeves, how different would the church be?  How much more would we comfort each other?  Encourage one another?  Show grace and mercy and love and forgiveness for each other?  How much higher would Jesus be exalted by the church as our Savior and Redeemer, the One who forgives our multitude of sins?

This morning, our church held its annual community outreach event which included providing people with a nice Thanksgiving meal, clothes and blankets if needed, and prayer.  I went to this event a year ago and met Wild Bill, who taught me what complete reliance on the Lord looked like.  He explained that if he got rid of everything he had, his sleeping mat, his clothes, his money, his cigarettes and walked down the street completely naked, he knew that God would provide for him.  That's trust!  As I arrived to the event, I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to help out with.  Throughout the day, I probably had at least 10-15 people ask me if I got a meal yet or if anyone has shared the gospel with me yet.  I know the church members were doing their job and making sure everyone was taken care of, but it was an interesting feeling to clarify, "No, I'm not here for a meal, I'm here to help."  It's safe to assume that if you are a white person at this event, you are one of the "least of these" and needed Jesus.  It was a very interesting and confusing day in that sense.  I was first instructed to ask any of the people who were eating if they needed anything, a carryout bag, another dessert, water, anything.  When it became apparent that very few of the eaters needed anything, I felt very useless.  I'm just a strange guy standing around looking confused.

I saw an older man, probably in his 80's, standing up, getting ready to leave.  We made eye contact and he motioned for me to help him with something, I wasn't sure what.  His words were slurred, his back was arched, he had a very used walker, a cane, and wore a baseball hat, winter jacket, and some 3D glasses you get at the movie theaters.  I could probably only understand every tenth word he said but I made out that he was blind (well, very poor eyesight), that he needed a blanket, and had a very long way to walk.  He has three bags with him.  One had a little blanket in it (he needed another for more warmth), the second had some clothes and personal items in it, and the third had two or three boxed meals that the church was passing out.  I carried the bags for him as we walked very slowly towards the clothing drive area.  Once David (the older gentleman) noticed the huge line and complex method of getting a ticket and waiting in line, he just wanted to get back to where he needed to go.  He looked very tired and defeated.  I asked if he would like a ride to wherever he was going.  He said yeah and his face started to change into a face that was about to cry.  I became clear to me that this man was running low on human contact and it seemed that a simple offer to me would mean something so much more to him.  I got the car, collapsed his walker and put that and his bags in the back seat as he got in front.  I was worried that I wouldn't be able to understand his directions and thus be sent on a wild goose chase.  Luckily he gave me a pretty comprehensible description before we left.  As I dropped him off, I walked him to his "spot".  A couple cardboard boxes collapsed and broken down were his bed.  This area was behind a building, under an outdoor staircase, next to a small grassy field where many other homeless live.  I sat with David, put my hand on his back and just asked to pray for him.  As I prayed, his head looked down, mouth was opened, drool kept coming out, tears flowed. As I thanked God for loving this man deeply, I couldn't help but be touched as well.  David, through tired and surrendered lips spoke "He is the only way."

Sometimes my possessions make me feel like I need them, deserve them, earned them.  Do I really trust God for my daily bread?  Thank Him for aaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllll He has given me?  Nope.  I honestly forget many times.  David made the long walk to our church to get a meal and a blanket.  His one glance towards me and his asking me for help were probably difficult for this fragile man to ask.  His walk was very slow.  Each step no more than 8 inches.  Sometimes I feel too proud to ask anyone for help.  I understand my weaknesses and my struggles, yet try to cover it up or act stronger than I actually am.  I want to encourage you, whoever may be reading this, to go to God with every struggle, every sin problem, every worry, every concern.  Don't hide behind your job title, your worldly possessions, your family, your nice clothes, your comfort zone for the sake of fooling your surroundings.  I left David with 1 John 1:9 and I leave with you also.  "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

To Jesus, come as you are.

"As the deer pants...

Psalm 42
...for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.  My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.  When can I go and meet with God?  My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me all day long, 'Where is your God?'  These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go with the multitude, leading the procession to the house of God, with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng.  Why are you downcast, O my soul?  Why so disturbed within me?  Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.  My soul is downcast within me; there fore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon-from Mount Mizar.  Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.  By day the LORD directs his love, at night his song is with me--a prayer to the God of my life.  I say to God my Rock, 'Why have you forgotten me?  Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?'  My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, 'Where is your God?'  Why are you downcast, O my soul?  Why so disturbed within me?  Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God."

Have you ever felt this way?  Have you ever had a pep talk with your own soul?  "Why are you downcast?" I've been trying to read a Psalm each day but when I got to this Psalm last week, it was difficult to proceed.  I have this desire to rely and trust God with all my heart and devotion.  There are so many things in my life right now that suffocate that desire.  If I give God the first hour of my day, looking to listen to his voice in his word, then what voices am I listening to during the other 15 awake hours?  When I think about what I think about, it is rarely with the desire to glorify God.  "Be joyful always," says 1 Thessalonians 5:16.  "Pray continually," continues verse 17.  "Give thanks in all circumstances," demands the verse after.  These verses, meant for direction and encouragement, can sometimes feel like impossible expectations in times where all I want to do is fight being joyful, keep from praying, and not think about all the blessings God has given me.

What is wonderful to know is that no matter how I feel, no matter what happens to me or my circumstances, God is in control.  It is in this unshakable truth that my faith is strengthened.  The day goes on.  His love keeps going.

This morning, I went to Shiloh (my church) to partake in a six-week Saturday morning series on authentic manhood, going deep in the Bible to discover what this generation of men is missing that Jesus has.  There were about 200 men that came to the early 7:30 a.m. study.  It was very refreshing and eye-opening.  This week's question to answer was, "Are you following the example of the first Adam (as in Eve's husband) or the example of the second Adam (Jesus Christ)?"  This morning explained how Jesus came to earth to fulfill everything that Adam failed at.  I could go into more detail about this morning and will perhaps another week.

I have a big prayer request.  I may or may not have mentioned this to you over the summer, but 2nd Mile Ministries is working on renovating a building right next to the church we partnered with for the summer day camps and after school program.  This building was only being used for storage of some of the church's lawn equipment and when asked if we could use the space for a possible community center in the future, they were very willing to let us take control.  Anyway, this Tuesday night, Nov. 13th, there is going to be a donor dinner held for doctors, lawyers, business men, etc. who could potentially add significant funds to the renovation process.  There has already been so much free volunteer work done on the building from high school kids to churches to members of the Jacksonville Jaguars.  There are before and after pictures at the bottom.  Please be praying for the speakers at the event to clearly communicate the vision of the ministry to our special guests and please pray that God would show us incredibly he provides for us.  This building is a much bigger space than the current bottom floor of the church where the program currently exists.  As the students we mentor now get older, it could be the perfect place for them to grow into middle-school students, and eventually into high school students.

A personal prayer request would be this...that I would grow to trust God more and more and know that his thoughts and plans for me are so much bigger and better than my own.  (Isaiah 55:8)

The name Andrew means either warrior or manly.  I pray that God would mold me into a man of him rather than the man of the world I often convey.

What the building looked like less than a year ago

Ceilings, partitions, fixtures out as of beginning of summer '12

Some Jaguars helped with demo

Current progress.  Still has leaky roof, broken windows, random light fixtures.

Instruments

On Friday, we went on our first field trip of the year to Memorial Park down by the river.  This park has been around since 1924, visited by many people over the years.  Lucky for us, it has a humongous field where we played kickball and capture the flag, both two:fiftytwo favorites.  It was unseasonably warm (I know, right?) but it was still a great time.  Afterwards, we drove back to the church where 10 medium pizzas and two gallons of Hawaiian Punch (brought by a student's mom) were waiting for us and any family and friends that wanted to join us.  It was an attempt to get to know families a little better and build better relationships with families we already knew.  There were 10 relatives and friends that came by to enjoy the pizza and drinks.

As we enter November, I'm excited to tell you that on Mondays at the after school program, we will be starting our unit about music.  This is something that I hope that will solidify in the programming in years to come as a regular time.  In case I haven't told you before, I graduated from the University of Wisconsin in the spring of 2010 with a degree in Viola-Performance.  Since school, I've gotten to play in the Dubuque Symphony as well as the LaCrosse Symphony (in Wisconsin).  A year after graduating, I continued to live in Madison to keep playing with the string quartet I was in.  String quartets are one of my favorite things to play because four instruments playing the same piece together, each with their own notes, their own roles, is so powerful when you are the one contributing to the music.  Sure, violists rarely get the attention; it's always those violinists who are heard the most.  But each instrument's voice is vital in the whole piece of music.  There are times to be a rhythmic support, there are times to be heard and times to let others be heard.  Performing with others was always enjoyable, I'd get goosebumps all the time listening to the sounds of the brass section shake the floor under my feet, the beautiful melodies in the violins and cellos.  While playing, I'd be like, "It's not about me and how I play, it's about playing my part with excellence by supporting, being heard, and letting others be heard."  There's no musical notation for selfishness and pride written into the music, just the expectation that each instrument will do their duty.

I don't plan on turning these kids from Brentwood into brilliant musicians who will one day seek out a career as a classically trained musician; however, I do hope that in the next few months that the volume of the  rhythms and melodies that God composed in them while they were in their mothers' womb would be turned on and turned up.  I'm excited to teach something dear to my heart.  Music is a powerful thing, once described as a way to experience God and communicate with him.  It changes lives and how people understand the world.  I've often compared a symphony orchestra with the body of Christ.  Some instruments get all the attention, some are hidden from the audience.  Some play high notes, some play low notes.  Does the tuba say, "Because I am not a violin and play such sweet high melodies, I am not part of the orchestra"?  Or the piccolo say, "Because I am not a french horn and play such powerful deep horn sounds, I am not part of the orchestra"?

When I'm around these kids every day after school, I see the ways they are similar, but the ways in which they are different are so clear, fearfully and wonderfully made.  As I think about the ways God could possibly use them in five, ten years in the specific ways that he made them, I just pray that these instruments get played to make a beautiful sound to our Lord.  Some of them are beaten up, their backgrounds not that impressive, not shiny, but they were made to make music.  Shouldn't they be able to perform and give back to their creator?  My life, your life all has a purpose.  I hope and pray for you that you would look at others and see that they have worth.  Every person that walks on the street, stands on the corner (especially in Brentwood), hides in the shadows, sleeps under the overpass was made and God loves them so so much.  Do we look at people like this as failures?  Dismiss them as hopeless and go on with our day?  How much would one kind word to these people change their day?

Please pray that as I teach music the next few months, that God would equip me with not just lessons about quarter notes and chords and dynamics but that He would help me every day to recognize that each of these kids sin but were made with purpose...to glorify and praise His name.

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which he has prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:10

We are his instruments.  How great a feeling it is to be played and utilized for His purposes!

Arrived at the park