Reflection: Walking Through Muir Woods

Recently my travels took me to the San Francisco Bay Area and Silicon Valley to welcome aboard Nuru International's newest team member, an amazing individual named Danny Perez. I had the distinct privilege of traveling to the West Coast to begin Danny's first week together with him, and start his on boarding and orientation process as he joins us in the fight to end extreme poverty!

But before his on boarding began, I had an opportunity to visit Muir Woods National Monument. These woods are among the last uncut stands of coastal redwoods, and honestly being able to walk in this space was awe-inspiring. These woods were purchased by William and Elizabeth Kent in an effort to preserve them in 1905, and they are donated to the government. President Theodore Roosevelt used the 1906 Antiquities Act to proclaim the area as a national monument. John Muir, when he heard that the couple wanted to name this monument after him said, "This is the best tree-lovers monument that could possibly found in all of the forests of the world." And all of this happened more than 100 years ago.
As I walked through this forest of ancient redwoods, I was overwhelmed by a series of emotions, the foremost being gratitude. Gratitude for these trees being preserved--trees that were older than the United States--trees that had seen empires rise and fall, and that had stood resolute for hundreds of years. There's a lot we can learn from an ancient grove of trees, waving in the wind but rooted deeply in the earth.
My gratitude spilled over into a more broadly experienced gratitude for the opportunity to experience ancient and sacred places like this one. There's something powerful about a walk in the woods. As John Muir once stated, "In every walk with nature, one receives more than he seeks." In my short time on this earth (particularly short when compared with trees that are more than a millenium in age), I have been able to witness some amazingly beautiful spaces. Many of which have been near home in West Virginia, but some in travels across continents. Beauty is all around us, but we rarely take time to soak it in. Dostoyevsky once wrote, "Beauty will save the world." In one sense, it already has in the beautiful life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, but every time we are able to pause and soak in the grandeur of this beautiful world, our souls are the better for it.
Before I arrived in these woods, I was driving through rain and thick fog, and I was wondering if I would be able to see much at all, or if the rain and fog would negate majestic views. When I finally arrived, I realized that the rain and fog had probably discouraged others from traveling to these woods that particular day, and that they had granted me an opportunity to walk in this sacred space in solitude and silence. In fact, the park had set up signs along some of the paths encouraging visitors to walk quietly along and soak in the sounds of the wilderness.
My gratitude overflowed as I listened to the sounds of Redwood Creek churning along as it worked to make its way to the Pacific Ocean. It was actually kind of hard for me to grasp that these giant trees and stream were so close to the ocean. I made my way along these groves of trees thinking about the native coho salmon and steelhead trout swimming in this stream, and the many other wonderful memories I've had walking along similar streams back home in Appalachia.
I experienced gratitude as I walked for the rich tradition my parents and other ancestors had instilled in me and other Shawnee people to spend time walking in the creation and listening. Among the immediate rewards experienced on this particular day was the witnessing of a couple of deer crossing along the valley in which I was walking. In the silence and solitude, we can experience emptiness and boredom, or, more likely we can be filled beyond our imagination and comprehension with goodness, peace, and refreshment.
My walk took me meandering along a path beside these trees who had stood at the edge of this creek for centuries. Eventually, I was afforded an opportunity via footbridge to cross the stream and make my way uphill to another path that gave me a different view for the journey back to my vehicle.
When I made it back to the beginning of the path, I felt like it might be worthwhile to stop in the visitor center and gift shop to have a look around. When I was a kid, I always wanted to have a shirt or a hat or some remembrance to mark the experience that I had "been there," but as I have grown older, I have found that the best remembrances are the memory making moments themselves. But, I must admit I was tempted in the gift shop to spend $10 and buy a giant sequoia seedling. I recalled a poem by Wendell Berry about planting sequoias and investing in the millennium. The poem ends with the statement, "Practice resurrection," a fitting imperative at all times, but particularly in this Easter season. I didn't purchase the sapling, BUT, Jamie and I have been thinking pretty seriously about purchasing and planting one in our yard here in Morgantown, especially in light of Wendell Berry's encouragement. They grow about a foot each year once they have established themselves.
When I finally arrived back at my rental car, I felt energized, alive, and ready for a full week ahead. I was soaked from the misty rain, but even more fully saturated with gratitude. A walk in the woods, whether in a national park, or a local grove of trees or protected lands is good for heart and soul. May we each find frequent time to experience the refreshment that only comes from being outside and in this beautiful and majestic created world that beckons us to soak in its rejuvenating and healing power.

Movement

I took this picture during my last night in Amsterdam on a mission trip earlier this year. It's a really good shot, but could have been a great shot with a better fastened tripod. :(

As I think about my life over the past few weeks, I feel like this blurring movement has been a theme. It seems like our culture as a whole is constantly moving, and that there are very few places in which we can find stillness and serenity. The other day, I was spending time with my dad (who is doing remarkably well physically!), and I just noticed that even in his life it seemed like there was a phrenetic pace happening.

It's like there is so much going on for people these days that there is little time to think, to reflect, and to plan the next move. Sometimes I think we spend more of our time and life reacting to the events of the day than planning long term for the future.

Right now I'm entering a mode where I'm fighting back the reactions to the events of the day in order to be with people and in order to plan for the future. It's a difficult process, and it's a process that is becoming all too familiar for folks in the west.

What is it that causes us to have to fight away the little things that tear away at our limited resource of time? How did we find ourselves in this predicament of a million little commitments and side projects.

As the weekend approaches, I plan to continue fighting, keep on moving, and learning rest amid the frenzy.

Hope you can do the same.

Some Thoughts From Joshua Tree

Well, as you could tell from the fact I blogged on Friday, I emerged from the desert. I'm back in West Virginia after experiencing five days of solitude to focus on prayer, fasting, and listening for God in the middle of the Mojave Desert in Joshua Tree National Park.

There are quite a few stories I feel like I could tell about my experience but the one that lies in the forefront has a beginning before I entered solitude. My buddy John Hancox recommended a sermon by a guy named Paris Reidhead. It's an interesting name for a person, and a very compelling sermon called "Ten Shekels and a Shirt". You can download, listen to, or read the sermon from this site.

During the sermon a story was told about two Moravian missionaries who sold themselves into slavery to be able to share the gospel with slaves on a remote island in the caribbean. After they had sold themselves to the athiest slave-owner, they were shipped to the island. As they left family and friends, they yelled from the deck of the ship, "May the Lamb who was slain receive the reward of His suffering!" Or as I had paraphrased it during my time in the desert, "May the Lamb who was slain receive the glory He is due!"

While I wandered in solitude, I prayed two prayers to help me stay centered on Christ. That statement was one of them. The other one was simply this. "Lord Jesus Christ be merciful to me, a sinner." Now some would say that neither of these are necessary prayers because God by nature is merciful, and He will receive glory. But sometimes prayer is less necessary for God and more necessary for us to be changed. God moves through prayer, and He changes our circumstances at times. At other times, He changes us.

Over my days He changed me. You see, I got sick early in the afternoon on February 6th, and didn't stop vomiting until around 1PM on February 11. Before you start feeling bad for me, understand that God used that illness to teach me great things about Him and His mercy, and about me and my own darkness.

You see, there was a point at which I was a little frustrated by my sickness. I was frustrated because I didn't go to the desert to be sick--I went to the desert to connect with God. I went to the desert to grow spiritually, and to be better equipped to help others grow closer to Jesus. I had a certain idea of what that would look like. I think God had a different idea.

During my time of sickness, I realized how merciful God was toward me. He knows how dark my heart is (He also knows about your's too!), and in spite of that, because I am His creation, He was willing to do whatever it took for me to be reconciled to Him. I deserve so much worse than a few days of sickness. We all do, when we consider ourselves in contrast to the Holiness of God Almighty.

So as I lay there receiving mercy, I found myself crying out silently from my mind, "May the Lamb who was slain receive the glory He is due!"

I know we all have difficulties come our way, that leave us wondering "where is God in the middle of this?" But I am also confident of this as well, these present difficulties pale in comparison to the surpassing mercy that God shows us moment by moment.

May you experience freshly the mercy of the Lamb who was slain, and enjoy God for the immensity of His worth!

On the Road

On the Road, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

I took this photo in Morgantown back earlier this spring when I was working on finding ways to walk/bike to most places I would need to visit around town. It's amazing how much you can do without a car. If one is willing to set aside a little bit of extra time for travel, between biking, the bus, and walking, you can get virtually anywhere in this town.

But unfortunately, travel beyond the town is not nearly as simple. And over the next few days I will be doing a lot of that. From Fairmont to Columbus, OH, to Lake of the Ozarks, MO, I will be traveling many miles. For some reason, it feels like my life is becoming more and more lived on the go. Even when I was stationed in Wilmington, NC for three weeks, I still had a short period where I had to drive to Richmond, VA.

All of the travel is great tho. I like the road. I like seeing old friends and family after a long journey. And as much as I hate leaving, I like the thought that there will be more great people to connect with at the next destination.

And beyond that, I love the journey. If I can stay away from my cell phone (not always easy), I have some great extended times for prayer, for reflection, for meditation, and for God to speak into my life. Outside of being in a car, it's kind of hard these days to sit in one place for long. But I don't think it's just me--seems like we are a mobile culture.

It seems like we are always on the go. In the middle of all of our going, it is sometimes difficult just to be. But perhaps, that is one advantage of walking, riding, pedaling, and then driving long distances--we are unable to do a lot of other tasks as we journey. We are able to be reminded of our unique value as God's chiildren, and we have a space into which He may speak, if we are willing to unplug the ipod for a minute to listen.

I don't know what my internet access will be like for the next few days--I've had some spotty access lately. Hopefully I will be a little more regular again starting next week. It's always a bit challenging to do much communicating, even to blog, on the road.

Remembering The Desert

Remembering The Desert, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

The photo above is of me and one of my personal mentors in the faith, a guy by the name of Greg Van Nada. Greg was responsible for the Pastor Tim Haring getting involved with the Great Commission Association. And if Tim hadn’t gotten involved, I probably wouldn’t be working for GCM today. And, I would have never met this invaluable mentor.

Greg, during our times together over the last four years, has taught me much about vulnerability, transparency, and brokenness. He has taught me tons about walking with God and the pursuit of holiness and wholeness. I’m deeply appreciative of the variety of mentors God has placed in my life to better equip me to walk with Him and lead others in their own journey of faith. Beyond this role of mentorship, Greg was one of the small group of people who journeyed with me into the Mojave Desert back in January to connect more richly with God. This photo was taken the day our solitude ended.

It’s been over 40 days since I was in the desert, and I just recently pulled up this photo that the director of the program sent to me. He also sent me an extended quote that I gave him on the day my solitude ended.

Here’s what I had to say about my experience in the desert.

”One of the best and most challenging times of my life - a memorable milestone in my journey of faith. It allowed me the opportunity to briefly set aside all worldly pursuits and answer the question, ‘Is God enough?’ Indeed He is! My life and my ministry will never be the same. During these five days in the desert I realized my identity was in the wrong place. I had been finding my identity in what I do instead of who I am. I pray that I can always be mindful that the most important thing about me is to whom I belong. I highly recommend this program to anyone with the guts to confront their inner demons on a journey to encounter the living Messiah!” Billy Williams, Spiritual Director – West Virginia University

It is so easy to start getting one’s identity in what one does rather than who he/she is. It happens so subtly. First we get involved in what God is doing and have a thrill in joining with Him in His work. Then, before we know it, we are doing doing doing, and in the process we are forgetting that we are His. He is so much more satisfying than anything we could do, and as we find our satisfaction in Him alone, and our identity in being His child, we are able to live a more abundant life and in turn we are able to do more than we could have ever dreamed. And that’s the real beauty of it all.

As we entrust ourselves to the artist, we become part of God’s great masterpiece that He is weaving throughout the world. May you take time today to enjoy the One who thoroughly enjoys you because you are His!

Tiny Desert Flower

Tiny Desert Flower, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

This is yet another photo from Joshua Tree. This tiny flower is smaller than a penny, there was no visible stem. It was flush to the ground. I think that if I wasn't intentional about slowing down and observing while I was there, I would have easily walked by it, or worse yet, stepped on it and crushed it.

I'm currently at a conference for the ecclesia network, a church planting network started by a few of my friends in GCM and beyond.

Yesterday afternoon, a guy named Keith Matthews, who is a professor of spiritual formation at Azusa Pacific shared a devotional with us to start our time. He said, "We live in a culture that is moving at a speed that is very hazardous to our spiritual health. Hurry and Busyness appear to be the most dominant obstacle to our spiritual life"

The photo and his words reminded me of some words that the author Annie Dillard once wrote. Essentially she said that we spend our whole life rushing around on a search for grand treasures, but that our days are strewn with treasures that we hardly take notice of. Kind of like pennies on a sidewalk. She then said, it's a poor person indeed who can't stop to stoop for a penny.

When we rush around, not only are we missing out on treasures, but we are doing damage to our soul.

May you take time to slow down today, enjoy the treasures that are right in front of you, and do the important work of protecting your most important relationship.

Into the Wilderness

Into the Wilderness, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

It seems like everywhere we go, people are in a hurry. I took this photo Tuesday afternoon in Chicago’s O-Hare Airport. It struck me because not only are people in a hurry, these folks are trusting in moving sidewalks to get them from point A to point B even faster. There were literally thousands of people in this airport as I scurried from one gate to the other to continue my journey. I was in a hurry too—my flight had just been changed and I had to proceed from one end of the airport to make my flight.

So why was I in this hurried crowd in the airport? On Tuesday, I flew traveled from Morgantown to Pittsburgh to Chicago and then to Los Angeles to make final preparations for a wilderness retreat I am doing with a handful of staff from around the country who are involved with GCM.

The goal of the program is to for staff to experience a period, of solitude, silence, simplicity, fasting, and prayer in order to connect freshly with God. Once I enter the desert I will set up a camp and will not see or hear any other staff until it is time for me to leave next week. The director of the program has said that people either spend an extended time in the presence of God or go through an intense struggle as they realize their own inner emptiness. Most people experience a combination of both. What a time of clarity and direction—no wonder Jesus went to the desert before starting his ministry on earth!

Of course this means I probably won’t be answering my cell phone, or responding to emails, or blogging for that matter, but I plan to return to blogging when I re-enter society. So, while I won’t be able to blog for a while, don’t lose hope—I’ll be back in a week or so. In the meantime, I’ll tell you something you can do. You can pray for me as I venture out into the wilderness. This morning I was reading in the gospels about how Jesus, when he began his ministry, went out into the desert for 40 days to fast. I’m not Jesus, and I’m not going for forty days. But just the same, I have a feeling that there are spiritual forces that would love more than anything to distract me from connecting with the Creator of the universe. With that in mind, pray for my health and safety as well as for my time with God. I want to tear away any distraction in my life to hear Him clearly.

I think this will be one of the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life. It is with awe and trepidation that I make my final preparations, and it is with an expectant and humble heart I enter the wilderness.

Only God knows what lies ahead . . .

The Way of the Heart Part 3

The Way of the Heart Part 3, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

“Very few ministers will deny that prayer is important. They will not even deny that prayer is the most important dimension of their lives. But the fact is that most ministers pray very little or not at all. They realize that they should not forget to pray, that they should take time to pray, and that prayer should be a priority in their lives. But all these “shoulds” do not have the power to carry them over the enormous obstacle of their activism. There is always one more phone call, one more letter, one more visit, one more meeting, one more book, and one more party. Together these form an insurmountable pile of activities.

This starts the section of Nouwen’s third part to his book, The Way of the Heart. It seems like prayer, although it is one of the most important and unique aspects to the life of faith is also often quite readily neglected. Even in my own life, it is so easy to get caught up in a flurry of activity, that I neglect speaking and listening to God through the habit of prayer. Nouwen says it this way, “The temptation is to go mad with those who are mad and to go around yelling and screaming, telling everyone where to go, what to do, and how to behave.” That is not a life of prayer though.

In Nouwen’s book, he reminds the reader of the importance of prayer above all things. It is through prayer that we are able to discern what other parts of our life are truly born out of true servitude and what parts are born out of a need to stroke our own egos.

C.S. Lewis calls prayer “the irksome discipline.” We often attach it to various parts of our day, but I believe often it can become just a formality before a meal or at some other time. Nouwen reminds us, “Our compulsive, wordy, and mind-oriented world has a firm grip on us, and we need a very strong and persistent discipline not to be squeezed to death by it.”

I think we value being productive so much that prayer doesn’t reap the kind of instant results that we like to see, and have grown so accustomed to. I mean, I was just driving by the hospital in Morgantown last night, and I was amazed at the fact there are multiple new buildings going up that really just got started in the summer—these buildings are HUGE!!! We can be so productive and see the fruit of our labors almost immediately, so we avoid the real work of faith—prayer.

I was just thinking as I wrote this, that sometimes God manifests Himself instantly when we pray. But many other times, it is like starting a garden. We till the soil of our heart with the word of God and then plant a tiny seed of prayer. God takes that tiny seed, and something beautiful and life-sustaining emerges from it. The challenge is that sometimes God lets that seed germinate over several days or weeks. And sometimes, for whatever reason, God in His sovereign wisdom sees that the best response to the planting of a seed is to let it change and become a tool for other seeds to grow—to fertilize the ground.

I’m always challenged when I read any book or essay on prayer because I realize the extreme challenge it gives me to nourish and strengthen this aspect of my life. After all, Paul said, “Pray without ceasing.” Nouwen’s book reminds the reader that as one grows in the prayer of the heart, that prayer becomes a form of rest in God which we remain in constantly.

As you go through your day today, ask yourself. What is my prayer life like? Does it have much life at all? Is it a smattering of knee-jerk reactions to circumstances or is a way of abiding in the gentle yoke and easy burden of Jesus. Do my prayers become manifest in the way I live? Do I really seek “His Kingdom come, His will be done on earth as it is in heaven?” I hope as you read this note you join me in reflection, in growth, and in gently and patiently planting seeds of prayer in well tilled soil of the heart.

The Way of the Heart Part 2

Silence, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

It's been a while since I posted an entry on one of the books I've been reading lately. (Actually there are quite a few different books I have read, or been chewing through lately, so they may become a frequent topic for this blog.) Dutch author Henri Nouwen's book, The Way of the Heart is a book I've been reading with a group of friends in the faith in preparation for a wilderness retreat.

The book is primarily an exploration of three spiritual disciplines--solitude, silence and prayer. Before Christmas, I blogged about solitude and ironically I have had little opportunity in recent weeks to practice solitude.

As I continued reading through the section on silence, I was impacted by the following quote.

"Wherever we go we are surrounded by words: words softly whispered, loudly proclaimed, or angrily screamed; words spoken, recited or sung; words on records [or cds, or mp3s], in books, on walls , or in the sky; words in many sounds, many colors, or many forms; words to be heard, read seen, or glanced at; words which flicker off and on, move slowly, dance, jump, or wiggle. Words, words, words! They form the floor, the walls, and the ceiling of our existence."

Of course as you are reading this, I realize that I am adding to your word count for the day. ;) But sometimes, I think we are simply bombarded with words all hours of the day, and we don't have any filters for them. Or we begin to filter and ignore most all of them. Perhaps that's why we need periods of silence and stillness.

Beyond all of the shock of words, what about noise in general? I know soooo many people who must have background noise happening around them all of the time. Whether it's an ipod, or a television set, it seems like we are always looking for noise and running from silence.

Consider this quote Nouwen offers as well Keep in mind this book was written in 1981. This is before most people had more than 13 channels on their TV, personal computers weren't even known of, and the walkman, hadn't come into existence. And yet people craved noise. It's nothing new--only the methods have changed.

"One of our main problems is that in this chatty society, silence has become a fearful thing. For most people, silence creates itchiness and nervousness. Many experience silence not as full and rich, but as empty and hollow. For them silence is like a gaping abyss which can swallow them up. As soon as the minister says during a worship service, "Let us be silent for a few moments," people tend to become restless and pre-occupied with only one thought: "When will this be over?" Imposed silence often creates hostility and resentment."

I know in my own experience, I've felt this anxiety. Even when leading others through an exercise in silence, I feel the tension that the silence brings about. How I long for it to be over. How I long for noise to return. I think part of the reason we fear silence is that there is no creaturely comfort there. All that is left is God, and the question in our mind about whether or not we can be satisfied with Him. Often to our detriment we find ourselves running to anything and everything else. Our minds race with to do lists. Silence makes us feel unproductive. We feel like nothing is happening, but in reality, there is probably more happening in our hearts, minds, and lives during silence than during any other time.

I encourage you to take some time to turn off all of the noise. Don't go running around accomplishing tasks. Amid the silence, maybe, just maybe God will be able to speak to you freshly, and you will hear Him because you are undistracted by all of the other words and sounds that fill our lives.

The Way of the Heart Part I

solitude, originally uploaded by Villi.Ingi.

From time to time I like to share some insights I am reading in a variety of books. Recently, I picked up a book I read a few years ago, and began reading it again. The book is called The Way of the Heart and it is written by a Dutch theologian named Henri Nouwen. Over the next month, I would like to share insights from the book with you. It may be a once a week entry on my blog, or it may be more often. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this little twist to the blog.

The book deals with solitude, silence, and prayer and shares with the readers some of the practices of the early church (particularly the desert fathers) and their experience and lessons learned in solitude.

There are a number of quotes I would love to share, but for now I will give you this little nugget.

"We have, indeed, to fashion our own desert where we can shake off our compulsions, and dwell in the gentle healing presence of our LORD. Without such a desert we lose our own soul while preaching the gospel to others. But with such a spiritual abode, we will become increasingly conformed to Him in whose Name we minister."

With that thought in mind, let me ask you this question? Do you have a space in which you can shake off the compulsions of a busy schedule and the countless voices who seem to vie for your attention?

As I read this section of this extremely brief book, I couldn't shake the fact that I have often struggled to find that desert space in my daily routine. Seems like every minute of my day gets invaded--like people are working frantically to build Los Angeles in the middle of my desert.

May you and I both find a space in our days for solitude, and for abiding in the loving presence of the King of Kings.

Saturday Afternoon Campus

Saturday Afternoon Campus, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Last Saturday afternoon, after working a bit downtown, I walked through the campus and snapped this picture. If you are from Morgantown there should be something that strikes you as odd in this photo.

Maybe it is the intense blue skies that strike you as odd, or maybe it is the lack of traffic. It was a beautiful cool late summer afternoon. What strikes me as odd is the lack of people.

It is a very rare occasion indeed that one sees this section of University Avenue completely devoid of people--especially during the semester. But WVU played football on a Thursday night, so people weren't traveling to see a game. No classes were in session, and it was a really quiet afternoon.

Anyone familiar with Morgantown knows that this section of campus is typically so full of pedestrians that cars get backed up as they crawl through campus. Yet there are no pedestrians (other than me), and there are no cars. It's a quiet Saturday afternoon.

It's almost as if the city was enjoying a sabbath. People were resting. Many students probably traveled home for the weekend. But it really struck me that there was no activity.

And what about us? Do we take time to "cease striving" in our weeks to know God? I've been feeling worn down a lot lately personally. When I see an image like this, it reminds me that we are to enjoy Christ in a Sabbath rest of sorts. My friend Jerry Haynes stopped by last night,and talked to one of our "canvas groups" here in morgantown about sabbath and the feast of tabernacles. Both festivals are reminders that we are not slaves to production but that we are beloved who are cared for by the living God. They remind us to take time to saturate ourselves in His life giving word, and in His goodness.

So, if a college campus can take time to be renewed on a saturday afternoon, can we? Are we willing to carve time out of our endless agendas to be refreshed, renewed, and restored?

Just a little something to think about as our most likely opportunity for refreshment approaches--the weekend. I hope you can experience renewal as you enter into both the Autumn and the weekend.