2 Things to talk about today!

Lately I find myself growing in ways I didn’t expect. Seminary causes you to stretch in ways that aren’t immediately obvious, and generally, have nothing to do with your classes…much like college. As you’ve probably deduced from prior posts, I’m not a typical mainstream Christian, at least I don’t think so. For that matter, I’m not a typical human, I have a slightly different perspective on things, and it usually leads to some interesting conversations.

Since I’ve been here I’ve begun to talk more and more about my future plans for ministry, since that is the standard question among seminary students. My dream, and the area I believe God has called me to, is to reconcile people that have been burned by the church. There are many ways to go about this, but for me it means beginning with the addiction community.

Historically the church hasn’t done a very good job of welcoming addicts in with open arms. Generally speaking, though churches might have an Alcoholics Anonymous group, or an AL Anon group, they’ll rarely allow a Sexaholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous group to meet. Even if they do let them meet, it’s generally as late as possible, because God forbid they should come into contact with “normal” congregants.

The church also rarely talks about things like addiction and recovery from the pulpit. These are issues that are affecting enormous amounts of people every day, and yet the church is so silent.

My goal is to start a church similar to Mercy Street in Houston, TX, a church that places recovery and addiction central to the idea of Christianity. I believe we’re all addicts. I don’t mean that to be clever, and I don’t mean it symbolically, or metaphorically. I mean actually addicted and in desperate need of treatment. Whether we’re addicted to crack, money, porn, power, sex or religiosity and moralism, we’re in desperate need of recovery. In fact, quite often, the substance abuses are significantly less serious than addictions to power, religion and morality. It’s easy to tell you’ve got a problem with a substance, and people will often tell you. But few people will tell you when you’ve got a problem with power, religion and morality…and if they do, chances are you won’t believe them because your reality is dependent on them.

So when I say addiction is central to Christianity I mean it. We are all desperately addicted to our own form of sin. For each person it’s different. Our addiction takes us away from Christ. The only way we can get better is to work our best at growing closer to Christ, and to seek legitimate treatment. Praying is not enough. God doesn’t just want us to pray and trust that God will make it all better, God has specifically created a world where we are capable of receiving help from others.

Seek therapy. I can’t emphasize this enough. The Christian church has always been terrified of supporting psychology, for a multitude of reasons. Psychologists will often attempt to tell us that religion is fake, though when they do so, they are generally just injecting their own biases, rather than providing any concrete evidence. If we truly believe that God created humans, then we must believe that God “created” psychology. Obviously god didn’t create it as it exists today, but when we study psychology, we are studying God’s creation. Psychology is a window into divinity, into God’s design.

We must embrace the healing powers of psychology in cooperation with strong Christian faith if we hope to recover from any serious trauma that life sets before us.

This being said, I’ve noticed something recently in my own life. It has to do with the way I’ve been integrating myself into Fuller’s student life, and life in general. Needless to say, I’m an eccentric person with equally unique goals and visions for life. I will accept nothing less than the best for what God has called me to do, and I do not tolerate mediocrity. As a result, I am very intentional in my discussions with people. I often joke with people, only to quickly transition into a deeply theological and heady topic.

I’m more serious than I seem. I care very deeply about very serious things, and I’ve come to realize that sometimes this is hard for people to reconcile. During the past 3 years living in New York City, I came to realize that my life has been given a special purpose. I’m not simply here to live out my own desires and wishes. Now, I knew this before I went to New York City, but it evolved to an entirely new level of meaning in my last year in New York.

It’s hard for people to reconcile a joker like me, with someone so strong-willed and passionate about tough issues. Few people thoroughly enjoy talking about addiction, it’s a sticky subject, and this can lead to a sense of being on the outside.

I’m always trying my hardest to be myself, and sometimes, after having a rough day or getting snubbed by someone, I’ll begin to worry about not fitting in with the “cool” crowd; or getting to be friends with the “right” people. I’ll begin to wish that I was more hip, or whatever it takes to be a part of “their world.”

But then I realize what I’m saying.

I’m basically saying that, I am more concerned about what other people think, than the calling that I should be focusing on. Despite what cynics may say, life is not a popularity contest, and there’s no prom king or queen. It’s these times when I stop, slap myself and say,

WAKE UP! THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS THAN BEING IN THE “IN” CROWD!

The ironic thing is, I’m already a part of the only inclusive group that’s worth being a part of, Servants of Jesus.

We need to stop worrying about what other people think, and start living with the fire and passion that God has called us to embody.

This world isn’t going to change itself.

So if you see me walkin’ along all mopey about something stupid, feel free to slap me and tell me to “Get Your Priorities Straight!”

(Though don’t be surprised if I’m grumpy that you hit me…)

Praise God!

Amen.

It happened this morning. I saw the ant crawling while I was showering. I picked it up and squashed it. After I squashed it I said:

“Sorry ant, but you’re in my territory.”

But then I realized, what does that mean?

Am I, man, the type of creature who should defend his borders by death? Perhaps the man of today is. But I am different, I am a Christian man. Am I able to define myself and my borders by killing?

I don’t know. It’s a tough question. It may sound silly to you, but if you really think about this question, it’s pretty unsettling. Christianity is a faith that requires you to approach things the same from “top to bottom”. Kings are made beggars in the eyes of God.

Now, don’t misunderstand me, I don’t think we are ants before God. God clearly states we are the apex of God’s creation. But God made many other things, and in summation of all these things God said, “it is very good.”

What does this mean? Maybe nothing…but what I think it means is that we must allow our compassion and grace to flow richly and deeply through all forms of life.

Am I going to become a vegetarian? Let’s not get crazy here! But do I strongly support free range organicly fed and raised animals? Absolutely. But this isn’t even about that subject.

It’s about life as a whole. How we approach all forms of life and all types of people is an indicator of our level of faith. If we only value people, or certain groups of people, our faith doesn’t go “all the way down”, so to speak.

It’s vitally important that we always remember this because it is the chief appeal of Christ in the first place. Christ came for sinner and “saint” alike. We should act in the same way.

Hopefully I can find a way in the future to get the ants to leave my apartment without killing them.

Otherwise, unless they’re eating nice food, or really causing trouble, I say “let ‘em roam!”

Praise God!

Amen.

There’s a good kind of vomit.

Every day, I wake up and go about my business. I’ll go to work, or more recently, class, and go though the motions of life. Like anyone else, I try to be the best Christian I can be. Some days I’m good, and some days I’m not so good. And at the end of the day, I go to sleep, so that I can repeat this process anew tomorrow.

Sound familiar?

But there’s always something else that never gets mentioned. There’s always that part of you that keeps you scraping against the runway, dying to take off.

Burdens.

We all carry a load. You can pretend you don’t, but I can promise you, you’re only fooling yourself.

Unfortunately for all of us, time doesn’t “fix” anything. Time pushes things in whatever direction they were already headed. You can’t hide your burdens and expect them to go away.

How many thousands of days more do you want to wake up knowing that inside, your heart is crushed under an insurmountable load?

Vomit.

Vomit, vomit, vomit. That is my advice. (NOT Gastrointestinally, of course)

Recently I was talking with a friend of mine, a Christian, and he was telling me about something (can’t remember). Neither of us remembers how it happened (GOD), but all of a sudden, we realized we shared almost the exact same burden.

VOMIT.

All the emotion came out of both of us at once, and the walls came down. We laid down our burdens. I proceeded to vomit emotion for about 15 minutes. I knew that I didn’t have to explain it to him, but I did, because I wanted to hear him acknowledge it.

And he did. And each affirmation built upon the last like a ladder, helping me to climb out of the muck.

People often ask me what it means to be a Christian (often other Christians do). This is it.

Shared burdens.

We can go on debating eschatology or the god-forsaken abortion issue for the billionth time…but this is what it’s about.

It’s about saying, “Hey, you know that thing that’s destroying you inside? It’s destroying me too! Let’s work on this together with God.”

Do it.

Get your life back.

You can’t go on living like this forever…

And you know it.

Praise God!

Amen.

There’s just no place like it.

After about 3 months of bouncing around between Brooklyn, New Haven, Ghana and Houston, I have finally arrived. I am no longer a nomad, I have a home.

There were so many hurdles to get to this place, that at many times, I wasn’t sure my stuff would make it!

I sat in my apartment today and watched as the movers piled in box after box. Sad as it is, in some ways, it was like witnessing a reconstruction of self. As all these things returned to my dominion of control, I began to feel whole again. But I think it’s ok to feel that way sometimes.

I think home can take on many forms.

Home can be a house with a rickety porch and a beat-up tire swing on a well-worn branch.

Home can be the cozy blanket you’ve had since college that used to help you keep warm while studying on the couch.

Home can be a Friday night at the coffee house with friends who “just get you”.

But when the porch finally breaks, when the blanket finally unravels, or when it’s just you sitting alone drinking your double whip non-fat mocha latte, there is a Home in Christ that never breaks, never falls apart, and never leaves you.

When you’ve been wandering through the deserts of life’s in between phases…

When you’ve been struggling to keep your head above water in the mean streets of minimum wage…

When you just don’t know where else to go because you’ve just completely lost your bearing…

There’s no place like home.

There’s no place like home.

Praise God!

Amen.

Have you ever done that?  Have you ever rediscovered something ordinary, and realized how amazingly extraordinary it is?

Driving down I-10 for 571 miles towards the Texas/Mexico/New-Mexico border I realized this.  I looked around as I listened to my “Man In the High Castle” (REALLY GOOD) audiobook, and was taken aback at the majesty of hills as large as mountains.  The broken crags of rock offered a cross-section of minerals, like a rainbow the colors dazzled.

Everything had a size that was simply incomprehensible.

With the exception of the occasional trucker, the feeling of being alone with nature was a calming force for the soul.

I think so many of us forget what nature is, and what it means.

We say we care about nature, but I think that statement means different things for different people.

I am terrible about recycling at home.  I’ll go out of my way to recycle when I’m not at home, but for some reason at home it’s too much work.

On the other hand, I almost never use plastic bags, or ANY bags when going to stores…unless I’m buying a comically substantial amount of marbles.  You never know when you’ll need to re-enact a scene from Home Alone.

But one thing I do know, is that when I look at those mountains and those rolling plains, I see something holy.  I see something that we probably aren’t even worthy to inhabit.  The mountains, that look as though God had sculpted them by hand (Scientists, forgive my poeticism)…we just drive right by them.  The plains, as far as the eye can see, we see only as the absence of development, and not the majesty of expanse.

I told several of my friends and family that I wanted to drive from Houston, TX to Pasadena, CA, and they couldn’t understand why.  Obviously it’s a long drive, and that’s a reason I can understand.  But the one I got that interested me the most was, “It’ll be so lonely.”

Lonely.

I’ve always found this concept interesting…especially as a Christian.

Being alone typically is defined as a negative word, it’s a word by subtraction.  ”Having no one else present” (Oxford Dict.)

We seek community, but we are afraid of solitude.  Is it even possible to maintain that, to only be surrounded by people?

As I drive through my mountains, I realize that I am not alone, God is in these mountains.  From every cliff and boulder, to the valleys in between, God is there.

So tomorrow as I leave Texas and head towards New Mexico and Arizona, I will never forget that I am not alone.

I have a God that loves me.

…so much so that we have this world as a reminder of the power of the one who loves.

Praise God!

Amen.

The Photos

Chapel at Trinity Seminary, Accra, Ghana

I’ve never cared for Miracles.

They’ve always posed a problem for me. I’m a Christian and an intellectual, for better or worse.

While I’ve always believed in what C.S Lewis calls “the grand miracle”, the incarnation, that never made it any easier. I’ve even believed all of Christ’s miracles, often begrudgingly, but I’ve always had a problem with modern miracles.

Miracles present a problem for the intellectual mind because our post-modern programming tells us there’s an explanation for everything. We’re hesitant to say it’s God, because we know people like to make this stuff up sometimes.

Herein lies the tension. We want to believe, but sadly, we end up needing to prove our beliefs.

With that out of the way, here’s the story.

Reverend Darko is flying, and on his plane he meets 2 students from Trinity Seminary in Accra, Ghana. The students tell Darko that they are in dire need of water at the seminary. Darko listens to them, and assures them he will do whatever he can to help.

Sometime Later, it’s March 23, 2009, my dad and I have arrived in Ghana. That evening we were eating with Reverend Darko, and coincidentally, we ended up talking about some water projects my dad had done. Darko remembered those two students, and said, “You know, if you have time, Trinity Seminary has a very pressing water need.”

We talked it over, and we decided to go on Wednesday.

Tuesday morning, my mom called us and told us that she had met a professor from Trinity Seminary who was visiting. She told us that we should try and go check out the seminary. We told her that, coincidentally, we had already spoken with Darko and made plans for the next day.

Wednesday comes, and that morning a friend of ours from Living Water International arrived. His name is Stan. Stan works in development, working with LWI on fundraising and suggesting new wells.

Needless to say, it’s a good thing Stan’s timing coincided with ours an that he would be able to come with us to see Trinity Seminary.

We arrive an we meet with the President, Cyril, and the Vice President. They told us that since they were at the end of the municipal water line and it was the dry season, they had had no water for two months. There need was dire.

We spoke about the possibillity of a new well, and mentioned that we would need a study to see where they could drill.

Coincidentally, the president mentioned that one of the students at the seminary was also a Geologist.

The student’s name was Sam and he was probably in his mid-to-late 40’s.

Sam told us that, coincidentally, he had already been looking into the water problem and had identified a few potential sites.

We asked him if we should get a hydrogeological study to be sure, and he concurred.

By coincidence, there happened to be a geological conference nearby that Sam had been attending. Sam said he knew someone who was attending the conference who would be able to help us.

We spoke to the geologist, and coincidentally, hydrogeological studies used for drilling wells are his specialty. We arranged the study for the following Monday.

We left the seminary, but told the president we’d be back after we came back down from the north.

While we were heading North we were speaking to Stan about the possibility of getting the Living Water drill rig to the seminary to drill the borehole (well). Stan told us that it would be tough to get it quickly since it was way up in northern Ghana.

Coincidentally, our friend Tom Powell, who is working on affordable housing for students, knew of a woman with the Methodist Church of Africa who was drilling boreholes. We called her up and talked to her about it. Initially she wasn’t sure she would be able to help because they had so many other projects.

Several days later she called back and told us that her boss had heard about it and wanted to expedite this borehole. By coincidence, their drill rig was already in Accra.

We arrived on Monday, and everything was worked out. We talked details, we asked questions, made plans and so on and so forth.

But the bigger point is that Trinity Seminary is getting a well, maybe two, and all because of an endless stream of coincidences.

1. The students meet Darko and express a need for Water.
2. My dad mentions in passing how he’s here to look at wells, and Darko mentions Trinity.
3. Mom called us the next day and told us to visit Trinity without knowing we’d spoken to Darko and made plans the night prior.
4. Stan from Living Water arrived the same day we were going to visit Trinity.
4. We needed a geologist and A student at the seminary was also a geologist.
5. Sam, the student & geologist, had already been looking into it and had identified 2 potential sites.
6. We needed a 2nd geologist and A geological conference just happened to be was on nearby.
7. Sam knew a geologist at the conference who specializes in hydrogeological studies in borehole operations.
8. We wouldn’t be able to get the LWI drill rig down in time, but Tom Powell knew of someone in the Methodist Church who was drilling wells.
9. We spoke to her and she wasn’t sure she could help quickly either. Somehow word got to her boss and we get a call from him saying that they did want to help and that they would expedite the process.

9 coincidences, and probably even more that I’ve forgotten.

There’s not much to say here, other than to say this. How many coincidences does it take for us to see the providence?






Coincidence or Providence?






I think God’s trying to tell us something…






It’s your call.






Praise God.






Amen.

Makola Market, Accra, Ghana

Over the next couple of days I will be posting stories from my trip to Ghana. I would have posted them while I was there, but as you can imagine, the Internet was spotty.

We arrived on the 23rd, which also happened to be my 25th birthday! Needless to say, this was going to be a pretty sweet birthday.

For those of you that don’t know why I was going, I’ll set the stage for you.

My dad is on 2 boards with Opportunity International, a Christian microfinance organization. The way Opportunity primarily works is by making small loans to, primarily, groups of women in the 3rd world. The loans can start as small as $50 and grow over time. Since the loans are often entrusted to the trust group, the repayment rate is extremely high, about 97%. The reason for this is quite simple, if someone doesn’t make payments on her loan, then the group will sell off that person’s work materials to make the loan.

Opportunity is a Christian organization. They believe that everyone that is willing to work hard should be able to get a loan. Christ called us to serve the poor, and the Bible talks about it over 2000 times.. This is our mandate. Big banks can’t service a $50 loan. How do you ask a bank employee used to $100,000 mortgages and loans to collect on a $50 loan? It’s just not the same. In Ghana, Opportunity serves about 60,000 clients each year. Worldwide, they have over 1.2 million clients. Check out their website at Opportunity International Site

The second organization that my dad works with is Living Water International. I am a huge fan of LWI. Living Water does basically only 3 things. They build wells, repair/refurbish wells, and health/hygene training. That’s it. But they do it really, really, really well. They drill and repair around 1600-1700 wells a year. Since 1990, they have built and repaired wells that serve over 6.9 million people…and that’s just up to 2008, by now, who knows? Check out their website at Living Water Website

The stage is set, on with the show!

Monday was fairly uneventful, we arrived in Accra (the capitol) checked into the Holiday Inn (amazingly, the nicest hotel in the city), and ate. That’s about it. As such, I’m going to skip ahead to Tuesday.

We woke up Tuesday morning and started about our day.

We ate our breakfast, which for me consisted largely of croissants and discussed our plans for the day. My dad had tons of meetings, so I wasn’t going to see him until lunch, which was fine.

Since I didn’t come to Ghana to get stuck in an office, they let me tag along with a loan officer on her route. I was honored because almost no one has done this, not even my dad who’s been with Opportunity for 4 years.

Sharon with a client in Makola Market

Sharon was her name. She’s pictured here with a client of hers in Makola market. Sharon is a new loan officer and the niece of a good friend of my dad’s, Reverend Kwabena Darko. I’ll be writing an entire post about him another day.

Sharon told me that she had over 250 clients. 250 clients. That’s pretty normal. Another microfinance org named Sinapi can reach up to 400 per officer.

We met several different women during the day, many of whom had been with Opportunity for 6 years or more, which is a long time in a country where it’s hard to plan ahead.

One woman, Auntie Josephine, started a small stand where she sold produce, onions I believe, not uncommon at the Makola. After several loans, she was able to expand her sales area to about 400 sq ft or so. It was tough to tell where the borders of her shop were, but it was easy to see it was one of the largest around. Not to mention, she even had employees.

Auntie Josephine in her Shop

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The idea that something so small as a $100 loan could help this woman to run a shop as large as my last apartment, was amazing. In America it’s not that much money, but hard workers don’t need a lot in order to succeed. Now, I suspect her loans are in the thousands if I had to guess.

Another woman collected nuts and sold them wholesale to other merchants and restaurants. She too had been with Opportunity for a very long time, and had received over 10 loans (if memory serves me). Today, thanks to a loan she received from Opportunity, she now grinds nuts to make her own pastes, like peanut butter.

Client selling Nuts and Beans

A third woman sold clothing accessories. She too had been with Opportunity for many years…noticing a pattern? She started small and wound up with multiple stalls and several employees. When she spoke with Sharon, even though I couldn’t understand it all, I could feel the pride she had in her work…and her self.

Woman in her bead shop (Owner on the left)

What does this mean for Christian community? This isn’t charity, these are hard-working people, people that just want a chance. They aren’t asking for anything that you or I haven’t gotten automatically due to our heritage and geography.

The way we serve them is not to sympathize, but to empathize. We are all there, whether we are poor in resources, poor in confidence, or poor in faith.

We must realize that we must do our absolute best to guarantee them every right we can by way of Microloans and other services like it. Loans and money aren’t the only answers either, but in this case, they sure are a good start.

Until next time!

Amen.

I awoke to the sounds of “Learning to Fly” by Tom Petty, a great song to motivate you into tackling something big.

I arrived at work, clocked in for the last time, and went upstairs to the morning huddle. The morning huddle is basically where we talk about the day ahead, and try to get psyched to do a great job.

After a few minutes, Will, one of the trainers I worked with, said “I have two things.”. I immediately thought, “uh-oh, who has two things…”. He talked about some in-store stuff and then he said, ” …and if i’m not mistaken, it’s Jonathan Sears’ last day!”

I smiled, primarily because I saw it coming, but also because I knew it was going to be a good day. They had me walk up to the front of the meeting of 20 or so people, and make a short speech on my plans, semenary, etc. As I looked out on the group and made my brief remarks, I realized that I have been lucky to be with such great people.

I finished by saying it has been such a blessing and a privelidge to work with everyone, and there was much clapping afoot (ahand?).

I went about my day, retelling my plans to each of my friends at Apple, which was great because I got to talk about something I truly cared about. But I think it was also my chance to share a moment with each person. Some of these people I’ve known since the store opened…some of them even longer.

My friend Judeen reminded me that she was in the group that I helped lead during Core training, before the store opened. Go Blue Room!!!

As the day drew to a close, I knew it was time to say goodbye. I walked into the manager’s office and said thanks to my manager George. He is the primary reason why I left SoHo to come to West 14th street. Needless to say, I have a lot to thank him for. We spoke some more, and then I gave him a big hug. In fact, I hugged every person in that office!

I went to hug Tommy, the HR manager, and he said “Oh, I get a hug too?”, to which I replied joyfully, “Everyone gets a hug!”

It was time. There was no hiding it anymore. 6:00 had come, and I had to go.

I walked over to the timeclock, and “jonathan.sears” clocked out or the last time.

My heart sank, and I took in a deep breath. I wasn’t just leaving a job, I was leaving a family.

If I had just come in everyday and punched the clock, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. I poured my heart and my soul into every conversation, every task, every session, and every person that came in those doors. I delivered well over 2000 sessions, around 20 ProLabs (of which I wrote the curriculum), developed marketing videos, am certified in Final
Cut Pro and Color, I’ve trained probably 100 different people, and even developed an in-store wiki.

But I did it all because I believe in Apple. I believe in the transformational power of Apple and One to One. In many ways, it is similar in effect (but not scale) to Christianity. Yes I just compared a computer company to the gospel.

But I’m not really referring to the computers, I’m referring to the One to One training.

When you meet someone who is lost, who is terrifed by this machine, and won’t use it because they’re afraid they’ll break it, you have a chance. You have a chance to change a life, to help someone grow.

Weeks later when they come back to see you and they’re zipping around the machine like an old hand, then you know why you do this job. The satisfaction of knowing you were able to help somone is endless.

Often people will ask me how I am so patient. I tell them that you can’t be mad at someone for not knowing something, this stuff isn’t obvious. But the bigger reason is Jesus. The reason I’m so patient is because I have by grace been given a chance at life instead of certain death. God is forgiving of me, so I have no choice but to be understanding in return.

I walked toward the stairs that lead up to the main floor. I saw managers scurrying about. I knew what was going to happen, but that certainly didn’t prepare me.

I walked up the stairs, headed down the final hallway and stopped at the last door that lead out onto the floor. I walked though–

People.

Everywhere.

Screaming, Hollering, Clapping…

Cheering.

Two rows of people on either side, 7 people deep on each side. They were waving their arms and trying to get me I walk down the 30ft long aisle.

I began to walk. It was quite difficult with all those people clapping and cheering. I looked up and there were people on all three floors clapping and cheering, some were taking photos.

The whole store was focused on me.

I humbly walked down the lane as I teared up at the sound of such joyous outpour.

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. I made it to the end of the line.

I stood there at the end just bowing and waiting for them to stop. 5 minutes went by and they hadn’t stopped.

Another 3 minutes went by and they weren’t getting quieter…they were getting louder…

I kept bowing and attempting to abate them, and continued to feel both embarrassed and perfectly humbled.

A friend told me later that they began to clap louder because they saw I was embarrassed.

When the clapping finally slowed a little bit I made a short remark.

“I just want to say, I feel honored and privelidged to have been able to work with each of you. Thank you!”

Needless to say, the cheering exploded again. I began hugging everyone around me. After a total of probably 15 minutes, they finally died down.

People came up and thanked me individually, even people I didn’t get to speak with that often. I hugged each person and told them thank you. You never know whose life you’re going to affect.

I realized that this one experience made my entire 2 years working at Apple worth it. I knew it would be amazing, but I had no idea the affect it would have on me. Reflecting back, I would have worked double overtime if I knew it was like this.

They say that when you become a Christian and you finally come face to face with God, all your sins will be like a night in a bad hotel. Your past is completely redeemed and remade. Old turns into new.

These 15 minutes of fame made me realize the truth in that statement. If this is what 15 minutes of an Apple “Fond Farewell” looks like, imagine what an eternity of perfect love looks like, and there’s never a farewell, you’re together forever.

Amazing.

Fast forward 30 minutes later to the party. I had a “party” at Wicked Willy’s on 149 Bleecker. Kelly found the place and recommended it because they have karaoke on Thursday nights.

Needless to say, I was excited!

I walked over with my friend Aviva to find my friend Karen was already there. The party lasted about 6 hours, and during that time around 25 people came and went, which was a great turnout.

I sang the first song of the evening, which was a classic of course, Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark”. It was a great song to start the night off with, and I even did the dancing from the video and my Bruce voice.

Some time later a friend pulled me aside to tell me something. I worked with him at Apple for quite a long time, since SoHo, so we’re pretty close. We didn’t talk daily, but we didn’t really need to.

He told me that he had nearly been nearly let go, and that a manager told him to find 5 people to model himself after. To which he added “You were one of those 5.”

“I looked up to you.”

My heart sank. Not because I was sad, but because I was humbled so greatly that I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say so I replied, “Man, I don’t know what to say…Thank You. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said.”

I thought to myself, if that was the only thing I could do during my time at Apple, that would be enough. To help a friend pick himself up out of a hole, to help him save himself from losing his job…what is greater than that?

The entire evening I had been telling people that they were a blessing to me, that I had been blessed, because that was the only appropriate word for it.

I have been gracefully given people to help ME out of a rut, to help me out of a dark place. I wasn’t on probation, but before Apple, I hadn’t felt very valuable. I hadn’t felt like I made a difference. These people showed me I can, and they taught me how to grow.

In ancient Hebrew culture, a blessing was much more than it is today. Today we use the word bless for everything from weddings to sneezes (thank the middle ages for that one). But back then, blessing wasn’t as much a verb as it was a noun.

To give someone your blessing was to give them something permanent, something that was never given back. It was a tangible thing. In ancient Hebrew culture, words weren’t just a collection of letters. They had power and weight. Once said they could not be taken back. This is one reason why the full name of God is never written, often it is written “G-d” or “YHWH”.

That is what I mean when I say blessed. When I told my friend that he was a blessing, he knew what I meant on the deeper level.

We hugged for quite awhile.

That night, I would have trouble sleeping as his words still rang in my ear.

To close out the night, the last song I sang with my friend Jonathan (from fellowship group), was “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey.

And if there is one summary for that entire day, it’s that…never stop believeing.

Praise G-d.

Amen.

I was wrong!

I work part time for Apple as a software trainer, or “Creative”, and absolutely love it.  I love teaching, I always have and always will.  The training program at the Apple store is called One to One, and it is BY FAR the best thing we sell in the store.  For 99 bucks a year you get a 50-minute lesson up to once a week in any apple products (with the exception of Server and Coding software, nerd!).  I teach a great deal of topics, and so I work with people from all walks of life.  In fact, I did the math a second ago, and I’ve probably taught around 2500 sessions in my 2 years at Apple.  That’s a lot, to say the least!

As any teacher will reticently admit, I have favorite students.  To any of my students, sorry!  But chances are, if you’re reading this blog, you’re probably one of my favorites anyway!

One of my favorite students is a guy named Kirk.  Kirk is one of the nicest people you’ve ever met (though I guess YOU’VE never met him…but I have…), and I always enjoy our sessions together.  He’s been coming to One To One for about a year or so, working on a variety of topics.  He’s a musician so he started with Logic to work on his music.  Later, he and I met, and he decided that he wanted to start working on his music video, so we started talking about Final Cut Studio.  Kirk is a pretty sharp guy, and he’s pretty excited about this stuff, so he’s really easy to work with.

I always wondered what made him so enthusiastic and so excited about life.  Everytime I heard his thick island accent I knew it was going to be a fun day!

On Sunday, March 1st, Kirk and I had a lesson.  We talked about Final Cut Pro and joked around a bunch.  I mentioned in passing that I’d be moving to California to start Fuller, and would be studying to be a pastor.

His face lit up.  He was so excited to hear that, and I was so excited to see his reaction!  He told me how big God was a part of his life, and my heart began to melt a little, because now it all made sense.

His happiness and sense of purpose stemmed from his strong faith in God.  Some would say psychology, nurture or even nature…I say God.  You just don’t know what it’s like until you’ve met good Christians…they are truly exhilarating.

Tim Keller, the pastor at Redeemer Presbyterian Church (my church), described it with a story that I’ll paraphrase here.

Two men who had been in Bosnia in the early 90’s and had lived through the conflict.  Both were survivors of that war, but they were both very different people.  Politically and socially these men were completely different.  But after the war when they met, they found that nothing else mattered.  Living through that war was such an inexorably deep bond, that they were like brothers, like kin.

That is what it means to have Christian “brothers and sisters”.  The connect is so deep that you can’t imagine anything different.  It seems like just a club on the outside, but it is so much more.

When I meet a Christian, there is something that happens in that space that doesn’t happen anywhere else.  You look at the other person, and you just know…you can’t explain it, you just know.

You can’t shake the feeling that you know them better than you realize.  That they would understand you without explanation.

It is an absolutely beautiful feeling, and I hope you have it, because it is truly a blessing from on high.

Praise God!

Amen.