Thanks

(This is an excerpt from our upcoming zine, which will include several poems, drawings, painting, woodcuts, and short stories compiled by Commoner as a literary companion to our album!)

I had a friend who kept a notebook she coined her “Happy list.” She’d write in numeric order anything she could think of that brought her joy. The items in her Happy List weren’t necessarily listed in order of importance or happiness level, but just as she experienced them or as they came to mind. I eventually started my own Happy List. #215: Morning Fog.

As time went on, I realized that these items in my list were so much more than autonomous fragments with the association of temporary happiness. #37: The First Sip of Coffee. These were pieces of a unified portrait of joy, crafted by a glorious Creator. This Creator, who knit me together as a tapestry and reached into the vacuum of my chest to pump-start my spirit, knows every single corner of my life. He knew the things on this list before they were written and He knows the ones that won’t be written for years. #93: The Crunch of Leaves. He made me so that these things would bring me the joy that bids me record every note. This realization turned my happy list into a register of Thanks, and that became much more important. #147: Bubble Wrap

So I went and bought a Moleskine® notebook that would fit neatly into my back pocket, and a Micron® pen that I could carry on me at all times. This record of thanksgiving must not be something I do, but someone I am. It is to be a part of me, and a part of my life. #224: Pomegranate. I carry it with me everywhere to combat the poison of entitlement with joy and gratitude, and it is having a profound effect on my life. When thanksgiving becomes a language that we speak, rather than a ritual that we infrequently practice, we begin to wear it. It becomes a lense through which we see the world and in doing so the world becomes infinitely more beautiful. #94 Watercolored Sunsets. Introspection is a disease that leaves us empty, but when we fix our eyes outwardly upon the joy that is set before us, our short life on earth becomes a theater of God. Each twist and turn on our journey calls us to notice the details, for it is in the details that we see God’s character. #126: Folk Music. It’s the first day of spring, when you look out upon the dreary, snow covered ground but then hear a bird singing from atop your chimney. It’s when you find the solitude within the chaos. #12 Coffee Shops. Friends, don’t miss out on what’s in store for you.

And when the sadness seems a sickness endlessly, I hope you find your bird in the chimney.

I Don't Know What to Do, But My Eyes Are On You (Oh God, Where Are You Now? [In Pickerel Lake? Pigeon? Marquette? Mackinaw? North Judson?])

As something of a disclaimer, I should mention that I'm about to be honest about my life

One of the saddest parts of our western culture is our societal inability to be vulnerably honest, especially on the internet. If anything, social media is to be the place where everyone sees only your good side, right? You only post photos of you having fun or doing something you want everyone else to see you doing. Myself included! I have yet to post a photo of my acne, or videos of my fights with Allie, or a status update of my horrible thoughts. I mean, it makes sense. One of the most basic human needs is to be loved, but unfortunately Facebook has turned that into being "liked," or even tolerated! Real love is so different, and I certainly don't know what it looks like completely, but I have decided that a good start is to be honest. And 90% of the time, being honest means being vulnerable no matter the consequence. If I'm being honest for a desired reaction, I'm not really being honest, am I? Real honesty and vulnerability means letting people see the gross and undesirable parts of us, so they can know that they don't have to do this alone. I'm not alone. We're not alone. You're not alone.

I was a happy kid. In college, I had a thousand friends because I was just so darn happy all of the time. That's why I never saw it coming. It really started as soon as I graduated, but it was about a year later before it fully took over. I thought it was a food allergy. I cut out gluten, sugar, dairy, even even coffee. Sometimes, it seemed to work for a day or two but then it would come back like a hurricane. I called it "The Great Weariness," then "The Terrible Sadness," although words never really worked for relaying how I felt. By themselves, words never do. I finally landed on the only word that seemed to fit. I knew others who struggled with a similar "condition" who would use this word, but it was so hard for me to admit. It was almost as if I had been in denial and the word itself brought the acceptance of the thing which I so hated and feared.

It comes and goes in tidal waves, but a few weeks ago, in one of the lowest times of my entire life (without any circumstantial rational, mind you), I barely made it from my bed to the computer to attempt a description. The following was written in that time:

Depression is aptly named.

What shall we call the feeling of an unimaginable weight that is lurking at every turn to crush us into something that is hardly recognizable? A smooth matrix of sand interrupted by an incredible object, leaving only the impression of the weight in what was before. Smoothness gone, left only with a depression.

It's like a sickness. A tumor in my body. I can even feel it as such. A sharp pain that nearly brings me to my knees yet with a dullness that leaves me with no feeling at all. A centralized physiological location of pain... sort of behind my stomach, but much deeper in my body. Even temporary moments of pleasure are impossible to bear for the knowledge that it won't last. It's as if the darkness in itself is burning it's way to all the lit parts of my body to devour each source.

And yet, the worst part is that God is somehow good. This world is somehow beautiful, but all i know is unimaginable pain. In these moments, the only thing that even comes close is poetry. Only songs can somehow capture what I "feel." Beauty is in the pain, but even that is a maddening concept solely for art.

"Oh God, where are you now? Oh Lord, say somehow"

You're all i have, but why does it feel like i have nothing? I'm imploding.

"The devil is hard on my face again. The world is a hundred to one again."

These psalms of sickness speak to God's heart. I know He wants me, I know He wants to rescue me, sometimes this world just feels like ....

"Oh God, hold me now. Oh God, touch me now."


The thing is... I know many can relate. I think the enemy's primary goal in his use of depression is to make us feel like we're completely alone. I think there's power in knowing that he's a liar.

So, then in my darkness I got up from my desk and and God gave me Psalm 42:

As a deer pants for flowing streams,

so pants my soul for you, O God.

2  My soul thirsts for God,

for the living God.

When shall I come and appear before God?

3  My tears have been my food

day and night,

while they say to me all the day long,

“Where is your God?”

4  These things I remember,

as I pour out my soul:

how I would go with the throng

and lead them in procession to the house of God

with glad shouts and songs of praise,

a multitude keeping festival.

5  Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my salvation 6 and my God.

David is not singing a cute little woodland melody, this is a tear-stained dirge of raw agony! In my darkest, God saw what I felt and wrote, then immediately gave me that to read. David sat at his desk 3,000 years before I did and poured out his soul in the same way, and God heard Him. God heard me. He was there the whole time, with tears in His eyes, longing for us to see Him through our pain.

I'm not alone. David was not alone. That little psalm of vulnerability made it to our cannon of scripture for a specific purpose. When we accept reality, each moment calls us to answer the most important question that is ever asked: "Is God real, or isn't He?" Because if He's real, then He's real in the pain. If God is real, then He's really with me when I don't feel like it. For us to shrink God so that He can fit inside our constricting box of emotions and feelings, is to replace Him for a God that does not exist. The God that met me on my living room floor and spoke to me with trumpeted clarity, changing the course of my life, is just as present with me in my suicidal depths of agonizing depression.

I wish that I could offer this post as a neat little wrapped up package. I wish I could share all of this as past tense rather than reality. I can tell you that I will be freed of this. I do know that this is spiritual oppression because the enemy doesn't like what God's doing in North Judson. And I am certain that everything I'm going through is because God wants to use me to bring healing for others also. In the chance that you're reading this and going through something similar, know that you're not alone, and that I'm walking with you.


I know this is long, but let me leave you with an amazing story from 2 Chronicles 20. King Jo finds out a massive army is coming to destroy him and his country, so he cried out to the Lord. He says "Oh Lord, I do not know what to do, but my eyes are on You." God answers him and says to go to battle praising him. King Jo and all of Judah go weaponless to battle against an army 3 times their size. They get there and start singing praise and thanksgiving, and the ambush waiting for them mistakes their own army as the enemy. All of the enemies of Judah fight each other until every single man is killed, and not one Jew is touched.

This is a battle, but as Bob Dylan wrote, we fight this battle with God on our side.

we're not alone.

-Trey

We Made a Folk Album, and Jesus is Awesome

Well, as is customary with any of the blogs I've attempted in my life, there will be seasons of inactivity due to the standard excuses of general busyness followed by an obligatory apology to the reader for my inability to regularly continue that which I started. Today there will not be the apology, for I am learning more and more the importance of simply spending my time exactly where the Father wants me to spend it, and although this is certainly done imperfectly, I have also learned not to mourn the things not done (especially be it through obligation).

In our last post, I posed some questions that had been my musings for some time on beauty, art, culture, and coffee, of which I'd love to explore some more, but first I have to tell a story...

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If you were unable to read one of my previous posts entitled "Why We're Making a Folk Album," then that might serve as a proper prequel to this story. I might title this story: "We Made a Folk Album, and Jesus is Awesome." (except that title might give away too much of the plot line... it's a working title for now)

I'm in a folk band and we're called Commoner. It consists of my sister, my two friends, myself, and sometimes a couple other people. We started making music this past Spring at Nate and Mary's house on State street. Out of the blue, Jesus gave me the ability to write folk songs and over the course of about a month we had more than enough for a full album. Shortly after that, I ran into a studio producer in Mississippi who encouraged me to come by the studio and talk about recording. It seemed like a wonderful idea, but the price was a bit out of our budget.. fortunately there's this great thing called Kickstarter. Kickstarter is a website that allows creative projects to be funded online by several different people. Instead of one or a few people giving a lot, it's a lot of people giving a little (although, I've seen more generosity through the funding of this project than i've seen in quite some time).

So we made a snappy little video, put a bunch of graphics together, and recorded a few of our songs in a friends bedroom to get our Kickstarter page set up. It was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had. To see our close friends and family giving generously, but also to see people I haven't spoken to in years give their hard earned money for our little folk songs was humbling at best! The first day, we raised over 10% of our goal, and I could hardly believe it! I mean, these were high school and college students, and people on missionary support, and families who I knew were struggling financially, and they were giving crazy amounts of money! But it's not like this was an impersonal donation to the salvation army... this was someone literally showing us that they saw the work of God in our lives, that they believed we were listening to His voice, and that they wanted to be a part of it. We didn't ask them to, they didn't have to, they just did! 106 people!!

The first couple of weeks were unbelievable. I would get the little notifications on my phone every time someone would give and it would always make me so happy, no matter the context.. so much so, that it started to control me. I have a bit of an obsessive personality and as the funding deadline drew near, I noticed myself becoming more and more upset about the possibility of us not raising the money. What at first started as an idea held with open hands, became something I tried to control, which in turn started to control me. "Maybe if I do enough on Facebook, or do another video then we'll raise our goal." I was quickly turning my eyes to what I was doing rather than what was being done. And more importantly, I was more interested in raising our money through Kickstarter than than seeking the reality Jesus' life at work in my life in the present. This wasn't a conscious choice of course... I just started to focus my attention way more on the wonderful gifts rather than the glorious Giver. This manifested itself in several long days of menial tasks in an attempt to work this thing into being.

Are you so foolish? After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh?

This was His idea anyways! He told me to do it, so why did I start to freak out whenever it looked like it wouldn't happen? Because the enemy loves to do whatever he can to get our eyes off of Jesus. Satan knows what works best to get me focused on what I'm doing rather than what He's doing through me. My dad would always say "The thing is not the thing, but the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing" The thing was raising money to make a folk album, but the main thing was following the call of Jesus to the ends of the earth.

But God saves. He always does. And when you're walking with people in community, He'll often use them in the process. My amazing wife and my precious younger sister sat down with me one afternoon, as the exhaustion of working in my own strength was in full swing, and spoke truth into my life. They didn't give me an answer, they didn't tell me what they thought I should do, they just implored me to hear from the Father. They saw this thing start to control me, so they sought freedom for me.

Then God freed me.

Community is so important. Walking with people that know you and see how you spend your time and what consumes your thoughts, is crucial. It's how we were made to live.

But, it's not over!! So God freed me from this imprisonment to my circumstances to the point where I was unattached to whether or not we raised any money at all for our folk album... then He gave it to us anyways! In 1 day, we raised $1,000 which shot us far past what we needed. And!! - We reached our goal on National Coffee Day!! Come on!!! Jesus loves us so much!!

Then we went to Mississippi and made a folk album, but that's another story altogether.



-Trey

ps. the video is a poem I wrote for my church about the importance of community.

On Beauty and Good Coffee (Part 1)

Sometimes, good answers aren't as valuable as good questions. I've been searching for some of those lately.

What is beauty? (Not in a super melodramatic sense... just as it relates to the evangelical Christian artist stuck in between the massively secular, over sexualized world of fine art and the nearly art-illiterate modern church of the American culture)

Why is North Judson, Indiana (or insert your hometown/neighborhood here) the perfect place to reconstruct a cultural ideology of beauty and how it is directly related to the Creator?

Why do we make good coffee?

How can we practice the pleasure of God through enjoying a cup of coffee?

How can we, as the church, use a learned appreciation of life to draw people in to a heart of thanksgiving and praise for our Father, which in turn leads us to an overarching enjoyment of Him?

If you'd like, you can stop reading, close your computer, find a quiet place, and ask the Father to reveal the answers to these questions yourself rather than reading my thoughts. I can promise you that the questions themselves will be better than my answers, but if you'd like to hear my thoughts, you may continue reading.... maybe some of it will be from Jesus (if all of it was from Jesus, it'd be much better!) And due to the magnanimity of the questions, I'll probably split them up into multiple posts.

   On beauty: I recently had a conversation with a friend about the latest Wes Anderson film. Let it be known that I absolutely adore Wes Anderson films and that they have had a very tangible impact on my appreciation of art. In fact, since I was 15 years old, my answer to the occasional favorite movie question has only varied among the films in the Wes Anderson cannon... still to this day Moonrise Kingdom would be my response. However, all but 2 of his movies feature sexually inappropriate scenes that typically involve nudity (enough to earn it an R rating). The aforementioned conversation concerning these films stemmed from a conclusion that my friend had come to which was that nudity and sexual vulgarity will eventually have to be excused in the name of art. 

   The world of fine art is run by a largely Jesus-less society. Granted, the majority of the world in general is run by a largely Jesus-less society, but I'm not sure if we've yet found a method of coping with this reality in the realm of art apart from the disassociation of the church from it. That is to say, how is the church to rightly appreciate and create fine art without compromise of either beauty, design, creativity, originality, or our relationship with Jesus? I know we're getting better, but I think there's still more to come. If we are indeed created in the image of THE CREATOR, are we not living according to our very design when we create? Creativity is at the very core of human existence in light of the fact that our Creator is at the very core of human existence. 

   I don't think that means that we should make more Christian art to take it back as we did in the Middle Ages. If you want to paint a picture of Mary holding baby Jesus with a halo over their heads, go for it, but I don't think that in itself will usher in a modern renaissance of Christian thought concerning art and beauty. In the Middle Ages, Byzantine era, and early Renaissance, the majority of art created involved strictly Biblical content. That was not because the artists creating them were strong Christians, but because the highest paying patron was the Roman Catholic Church! 

   I think we love Jesus and make good art. Don't compromise anything with what you enjoy or what you create. If we have the Holy Spirit inside of us then, unless we are distracted, everything we create reflects His character despite the content! If we have the Holy Spirit inside of us then everything we enjoy is enjoying Him despite the creator! Art is based on truth perceived by the artist, but even if that artist does not have a foundation of truth in scripture all of Creation will sing His Praise (Psalm 148)

   All of this is not to say that we shouldn't appreciate fine art, though it be tainted by the immorality of non-believers. After all, of what purpose is morality if we don't have Jesus? Moral and immoral people are no different if Jesus has no place in their life. I say enjoy art. Enjoy all art, as long as your not compromising your relationship with the Father. Sexual immorality conveyed in media or art is notorious for distracting believers in our society from their relationship with Jesus. That doesn't mean some haven't figured it out yet, but it does mean that we should ask Jesus what He thinks. But with that said, please go watch a Wes Anderson film. This one is good to start with:

Art portrays beauty, beauty portrays truth, and truth portrays the character of God.

-Trey

Why we're recording a folk album.

In 2 months, we're heading back to Mississippi.

But just for 7 days! Our band will be recording our first, full length album with BlueSky studios in Jackson during the first week of October. We're obviously quite excited, as any musician would be, but most of our excitement is directed less towards the album itself, and more towards the ensuing journey it will bring. This is our mission! This is how we're going to bring the Gospel to the dark places of our county! This is how many people we encounter will hear about Jesus, and hopefully respond with a desire to initiate a relationship with Him! I'll explain by telling you the full story...

I've always wanted to write songs. I first became interested in music when I was 13 and decided to grab my dad's Ovation from his closet and start awkwardly strumming out some chords my friend showed me. I learned fairly quickly and started doing cover songs the next summer, but that's about as far as it went for awhile. Granted, I did get a lot better a guitar, but I was never really able to write songs for about 8 years. Even my first few songs were messy at best. I was in a band in Jackson with 3 of my best friends in the world, and we were having so much fun making music that I decided we should do originals just for fun. What came after that was not necessarily bad, it just wasn't good. People said they enjoyed my songs, but I never felt like I had a gift of song writing. They were mostly about my relationships with Allie or stories about different people or places. They were mindful of Jesus, but not actually about Him. They were few and far between and I always felt like they were forced; sort of like telling a story in Spanish without actually knowing how to speak it very well... I could get by, I just wasn't fluent.

Skip ahead to this past winter where I experienced probably the darkest time of my life. An adrenal gland failure, mixed with a vitamin deficiency, during the worst Indiana winter in 100 years led to depression, chronic fatigue, and lethargy unlike I'd ever experienced. I lived in this for about 5 months before Jesus miraculously saved me. And when I say "Miraculously," I mean it. In one day, my condition was diagnosed, I started a vitamin program to heal my adrenal glands, God released me from the job I had endured for 6 months, He called us to be missionaries in our town to start the things we had been praying into for years, and we started planning a month long trip to our beloved Mississippi. Our lives changed. And with that change came something unexpected, but quite welcomed: I started writing songs.

Maybe the best way to describe what happened is to liken it to when people are baptized by the Holy Spirit and they start speaking in tongues: something wonderfully spiritual happens to a person and then they immediately start speaking a language they never knew before. I guess I was baptized by the Holy Songwriter. That's not to say that my songs are divinely perfect or anything... they're certainly divinely inspired, but I still wrote them and I still mess things up a lot. God just decided one day to give me the coolest gift that I'd been wanting for 11 years. His timing was pretty great too!

Maybe a month before this, I had planned on doing a show with a kid from our Tuesday morning art ministry who was a crazy good musician (his name is Jimmy and he's incredible. He was invited to play in the San Francisco Folk Festival this past summer... check his music out here). I had promised him the show so that he would have a chance to perform his songs for some people in our church. But then 2 weeks out, I realized that it would be too much to for me to juggle with my job, getting ready to go to Mississippi, and having to move all our stuff out of our friend's house that they were selling. I had planned on canceling, but before I could tell Jimmy, me and Allie were at a Missional Community conference in Ohio and the Lord clearly led me not to cancel. Jesus told me to do the show because He wanted us to sing songs about Him as a way to preach the gospel to the people in our town. I was really excited to get such clear direction and looking forward to doing the show, but I wasn't really sure what songs He was talking about. There were a few covers that I thought would be cool, but it seemed like something was missing....

Well, you can figure out the rest.

I got my sister and good friend together, and in 10 days, the Lord gave us 10 songs which we were able to perform at the show, and it was beautiful. As I looked at people's faces while we told them about Jesus using folk music, I couldn't help but think that He planned that for me before I was even a thought. I could see His smile, as He wrote the notes for my existence before He even created earth. I could see the joy in His face as He watched me, so fully satisfied in Him, as I operated in things He had for me, using things He gave me, to reconcile things back to Him. It was wonderful.

Have you ever done something you feel that you were created to do? Eric Liddell says that's when he "feels God's pleasure." I couldn't agree more.

Since then, we've written 30 songs and have painstakingly chosen 11 to record so that as many people as possible will hear these songs about the Jesus that has so greatly changed our lives. We want to bring these songs to dark and spiritually abandoned places to tell lost and hopeless people about a Man who wants desperately to redeem their hurting hearts back to Himself. We want to dispel the lies about the person they may think is Jesus with the lovely truth about the real, live, crazy awesome One.

And let me tell you: Jesus loves folk music. That is why we're recording a folk album.

Forgiveness!

"What does it even look like to forgive someone who has hurt you?"

I've wrestled with this question for over a year as I carried wounds from my past given to me by unsuspecting people in my life. Granted, these were not mighty wounds; a water drop in the sea of pain more like, but wounds all the same. For the sake of transparency, and since this story is redemptive in the end, I'll share specifics:

The summer before my junior year at Mississippi College, I interned at a church plant in St. Louis, MO. One of the pastors invited me to live with him and his family for the summer rent-free for the whole summer. They fed me, they included me in everything they did, and the pastor (I'm not going to say his name, but it's David) poured into me constantly. I learned more in 3 months about discipleship, community, the power of the Gospel, and missions than I had probably learned in my entire life, and all because David saw immeasurable value in biblical discipleship. I was radically changed that summer, and I still remember vivid pictures of God revealing His overwhelming Love to me in tangible ways.

Then, after my summer as an intern, my life moved pretty fast. In July I got engaged, in August I got married, in September we moved to Spain, in October we found out we were pregnant, in November we traveled to 13 cities in 9 European countries, in December I started working back in America to provide for my new wife, and in January I started my senior year of college. Needless to say, things looked different.

So then good news and bad news. The good news was that whilst finishing school, the church in St. Louis called me to offer me a full time job which I was to start immediately after graduation. The bad news was that it sucked. (Keep reading! Remember, it's redemptive!)

Now, as you can probably guess, I was not aware of the fact that it would suck whenever I excitedly told Allie that we would be moving to St. Louis and working for the best church we'd ever experienced. I was not aware of the fact that it would suck when we left both of our families in Mississippi and re-located our entire lives 8 hours north on Interstate 55. I was not aware... but God was.

Now, I really should explain what I mean... My job sucked, but St. Louis was awesome. The people in our church were some of the most loving and caring examples of God's tenderness and kindness we had ever experienced. We loved that city passionately, and we knew discovered what Jeremiah meant when he talked about finding his own welfare in the welfare of the city. I vividly remember Chuck from our urban garden inviting me into his home for the first time and giving me a 4ft tall marijuana plant to destroy because he knew that he couldn't turn to pot to control his anger and that only Jesus redeems us from our raging flesh. I distinctly remember the homeless man that walked up to our pop-up show on the corner of Locust and 11th and wanted to play Wagon Wheel with us on his harmonica which lead him to tears of joy as he performed. I'll never be able to forget shouting (literally shouting), in font of the arch, the gospel of Jesus' unimaginable love through a microphone to the people who stopped to listen as we all wept in awe of our Creator. As well as countless other memories that stick out in my mind like a cold glass of water in the Sahara.

Really the only part that sucked was my job and my relationship with David. But it was enough. I didn't know what was different but I knew that it was. How could the same tasks, relationships, and place as two summers before be so drastically different? I concluded that it was my fault and that I should probably just get over it.... but I couldn't.

Unfortunately, the redemptive ending I keep mentioning did not take place as I drove away from St. Louis into my new life in Indiana... life's not always a neatly wrapped package. No, I actually carried open wounds with me as we met new friends, attended a new church, found a new job, and thanked Jesus for rescuing us from such a painful environment. But then, as normal life set it, I started noticing this wounds which were getting awfully infected. I started thinking several times a day about specific memories of pain or things I wish were forgotten. Thoughts of ill-will and even hatred started plaguing my mind as Satan slowly used my foundation of pain to build a house of bitterness. Then it was from within this house of bitterness that I asked:

"How on earth can I forgive someone who's very memory brings me pain?"

Then I started thinking about other people's pain and it made mine look like the aforementioned water drop into an ocean of suffering. Some of my best friends in the world are currently on a nation-wide tour screening a documentary about the evil of sex slavery and how it's origin takes root in our own hearts. Allie, Viva, and I were able to join them for the first 2 weeks of their tour and as I thought about the thousands of precious girls who had been repeatedly raped by men enslaved to their evil desires and the unfathomable weight of pain each of them carried, I was faced with the reality that if I can't forgive David, these girls would never be able to forgive their perpetrators. But then, Jesus reminded me that He can.

So, with all these thoughts in my head, in the middle of my house of bitterness, Jesus did what He always does: He whispered something that changed my entire life. I was sitting in church as a guy from England talked about forgiveness when I asked Jesus what He had for me. He told me to do two things: Go to St. Louis and meet with David, then tell him that I forgave him. A pretty simple task except for the fact that I hadn't forgiven him, but Jesus told me to, so I did.

A week later I sat on David's porch with him and his wife as we hung out and talked much like we had 3 years before. Time was getting away so I changed the subject, looked him in the eye, and told him that I forgave him... then something happened that made me instantly weep (even as i type this!):

i actually did.

Jesus heals. He redeems. And He loves us so much that He will do anything to tear down our houses of bitterness to hold us in His bear hug. He gave me forgiveness unlike anything I ever saw possible and a years worth of bitterness and hatred growing it's putrid mold inside my heart was no match for the crazy love of my Dad who sought complete freedom for me. Now, all those thoughts that used to haunt me daily are completely shadowed by the beautiful picture of David, with tears in his eyes, looking at me in total humility as he asked forgiveness for every wound I had held on to. All I did, was respond to the voice of Jesus, and He gave me things that continue to overwhelm me.

He loves us so much.

-Trey

Time

Relationships take time and time has to be intentional.

This coming October will mark one year of my family living in some form of intentional community with other believers. The term, "Intentional Community," refers to a group of people that live together for the purpose of experiencing Koinonia. Koinonia is the Greek word from which we get the English word "Community," which basically means to have everything in common (See Acts 4:32). This word is used in several places in the New Testament, especially in connection with the early church.

It is interesting to me that, although this idea seems to be a direct result of a common desire to pursue biblical community and how that points us closer to our Father, most of the intentional communities out there right now appear to have a drastically different goal... mostly due to the fact that most of them don't really seem to be interested in Jesus. (You can look for yourself on the Fellowship of Intentional Communities website).

Allie and I experienced this first hand a couple of weeks ago when we visited The Farm: one of the most famous IC's in the nation. The Farm was founded by Steven and Ina May Gaskin in the 70's as a commune, but had to digress to an intentional community in the early 80's because they're were like $100,000 in debt. It was basically like the mecca of hippy-commune living before reality caught up to them. Now it's just a regular neighborhood, except it's spread out on a big farm and there's a rigid membership process. We did find some people our age, that actually cared about living in community, but even that was more based on a common interest of natural living and organic farming rather than enjoying the fellowship of living with others.

So my family and I have lived in intentional community for almost a year now, which means that it has been almost a year since we have had a home to ourselves and frankly, I hope we never go back. Needless to say, we've learned a lot in this past year. Probably the most important thing we've learned is that community doesn't work unless you want it to. And it takes no small measure of desire for it to work either. You have to want it more than you want to be comfortable, which is inherently antithetical to the typical American lifestyle. The only way community can work is if you're actually in community with the people you're around; this means spending time with them and you guessed it: that time has to be intentional.

Believe it or not, you can live with someone for a long time and never spend time with them. I had several room mates in college of whom I knew nothing about! Intentional time with brothers and sisters for the purpose of community means turning off the distractions, avoiding any kind of maintenance or logistical talk (which needs to take place but in it's own time... it's of much lesser importance) and just sitting with each other and talking. It's fine if you start off with small talk as long as your intention is to pursue community through quality time spent together. Eventually it'll lead to sharing your heart. It will lead to love expressed through the admiration of the Body of Christ. These talks are not about interests or hobbies, those have their place as well, but these talks are sometimes uncomfortable and always rewarding. These talks are sometimes messy, but always redeeming. It's sharing the things you usually don't want to talk about because you care about community. It's opening the door of unity with your family for the sake of having everything in common. Common Unity.

And guess what! This applies to all relationships! The most important tool for marriage, we learned through living with others. If Allie and I don't have these talks on a regular basis, we break....which brings me to my main point:

We need this time with Jesus.

Time.

He is our perfect picture of community, because He created it! We were created for community with Him! Not to discuss theology or logistics. Not to ask Him for things. Not to try to figure out his plan for our lives. Although these things are very good and need their own time, we need time to just to sit with our Father. We need time to ask Him what He wants to tell us and the give Him the time to do so. 

You know why we need this time with Him? Because He's worth it. Maybe you have never just sat down somewhere without distractions and didn't open your Bible or notebook but just asked Jesus to come sit with you....if you haven't done this then you must! This incredibly simple act could change your entire life! If that sounds dramatic, think about who you're inviting to sit with you! The star breather, the artist of time, the musician of nature. He's the one who crafted the Matterhorn out of nothing. He's the man who braided a whip to drive out the businessmen from His temple of worship. He's the man who lifted the hearts of the downcast so they would be certain that He loved them fiercely. 

That one.

He wants to be with you continually and if you just take the time to sit with Him and listen to what He has to say, He could tell you something that could drastically change the course of your life.

Spend this time with Him.... it could literally change everything.


-Trey

Dear Introvert,

You most likely grew up with few friends, though the relationships ran deep.

In your adolescence, you probably envied your extroverted peers for their endless social energy and their absurd amount of best friends.

You've watched the extroverts in your church take charge and do great things effortlessly. You've seen them lead worship, greet visitors, and make everyone feel warm and welcome.

You may have experienced some guilt, because it's harder for you to strike up conversations with the lost than it is for your extroverted brothers and sisters in Christ.

It took a very long time before you were even slightly comfortable praying out loud.

People may have thrown words at you like cold, intimidating, or judgmental.

If you're like me, you've probably thought something was wrong with you.

Why is encountering the broken so much easier for others?

Why is it so hard for me to open my heart to people?

Why can I not simply initiate conversations and relationships?

You are a precious child of our Father God.
He is wildly in love with you. 
He created His children all uniquely in His image.
You were bought at a high price.
You are hidden in Jesus and you are His.

There is nothing wrong with you. 

In fact, the Bible even tells us that a gentle and quiet spirit is beautiful to God (1 Peter 3:4).

God has a specific place for us in His kingdom.
You understand the need for depth and transparency in conversations and relationships, and you crave it.
You have the natural ability to make someone feel truly heard, and therefore important and loved.

Keep in mind- sometimes introverted hurting people need introverted evangelists.  

The Church needs us introverts just as much as it needs extroverts.

And take heart, your social discomfort and short social stamina leaves more room for our God's power to be made perfect in your weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). 

So rejoice in your constant need for His energy and strength!
Praise Him for your total dependency on His beckoning voice.
And always, always, thank Jesus for His grace when we hide in our introversion and miss an opportunity to behold His Glory.

Don't you dare hold shame or guilt because of how God Almighty created you.
Instead, ask Him how He wants to use you and your sweet introvertedness to glorify Himself.

He wants to walk with you in your introversion, and He will often draw you out of where you're comfortable.

But don't worry, just cling to Him. 

- Allie

Here We Go

   I've had some form of blog since I was 12, and quite frankly I was much better at it back then. I remember quite vividly my teenage Xanga site and how dedicated I was to relaying to my small network of friends and followers of the exciting happenings of homeschooling, household chores, occasional vacations and discovering good music. Ironically enough, my life is approximately 73 times more exciting than when I was 12, yet I never find the time to let my now large network of friends and family know what is happening. No more! Now is the time to revert back to my childhood ways, find time regularly to slow down and remember the things that Jesus has done, and to invite others to worship our Creator with me through the telling of testimony. Because that's what it's all about right?

   Although my precious wife has had several attempts to chronicle the major events of our small family since it's beginning, it was never fully supported and therefore was never able to fully take off. Now, we are in full agreement that documenting our life as it occurs is the most effective way to show gratitude to the thousands of blessings our Father has given to us. It also allows the family we have in Mississippi, St. Louis, and northwest Indiana, to rejoice with us on our journey. Our first several posts will probably consist of a mixture of current events as well as past ones (due to the aforementioned previous lack of blogging prowess).

   So, these are our stories. Me and Allie will be relaying the majority of them because we haven't taught Viva how to type yet (if given the opportunity, you should, however,  get her to tell you a story. You probably won't be able to understand the majority of the words, but rest assured that you will enjoy every second of it). There will be mostly happy stories, but some sad stories. Some short, some long, some medium length... honestly, I'm not 100% certain what they'll look like because I've only thus far experienced some of them. To kick it off, i'll tell the story of how we got here...

   About 10 months ago my wife and I were sitting in our living room in St. Louis, MO praying with some friends. We had been in St. Louis for about 8 months, moving there from Clinton, MS where both went to school. I had been offered a job at a church in a STL suburb which I started 3 weeks after our graduation. (We ran across our graduation photos the other day with a 6 month old Viva smiling with us in our cap and gown... they're pretty great) Through a barrage of circumstances we had felt the Lord calling us away from my job at the church after working there for about 7 months. I looked for other jobs and found a few things that sounded interesting but i didn't have a peace about any of them. Then one night about 10 months ago, as me and Allie sat on our living room floor with our friends, Jesus spoke to me.

   A lot of people get a little weird when I say "Jesus spoke to me." It's a little more normal when we use the phrase "I feel the Lord calling me _____" or "I feel like the Lord is opening a door with _____", but when I say that Jesus gave me specific instructions on where I was to take my family and that His instructions did not line up with any previous form of opportunity or familiar circumstance it can make some people uncomfortable. Does Jesus really speak to people like that? I mean, all throughout the Bible it seems like God has full conversations with people which involve personal revelations as well as specific instructions, but that was before the Bible was written. So now that we have the Bible He surely doesn't speak to people the way He did back then.... or does He?

He does.

I'm telling you right now, as I lay on my living room floor praying with my friends, the God of the Universe spoke to me in the same way in the same way that He spoke to Paul or Moses. I wasn't even asking Him about anything related to what He told me! He was totally off-topic, but it changed the rest of my life. That happens! Jesus can whisper something to you in a moment that can completely change the course of your entire life! So, next time you sit down in your favorite quiet time chair with a cup of coffee or tea and watch the sun bounce light off of the trees or your living room furniture, know that in that moment of silence (or any moment for that matter), Jesus can tell you something that will rock you... Then you just respond!

So Jesus spoke to me that night, and told me to move to Indiana. That's it. We had visited my sister in a small town called North Judson in Indiana the previous summer and although, I really enjoyed our visit, it was short and largely un-impressive. I can say that I did not give North Judson, Indiana a second thought since our 24 hour visit 2 months prior to that night in the living room. But as I knelt in prayer, Jesus brought to mind scenes from our short visit, and the streets of this town, and the church we got a quick tour of, and the pastor who seemed really cool, and as these pictures came to mind He said "Move there."

30 days later, we arrived with all of our stuff in a box truck our friend let us borrow, and since that day, Jesus has provided for our every need... Most of these stories will come from that.

We're excited to share them with you.

-Trey