The sun is high, the air is clear, there’s an albatross over head (funny, you would think he was showing us the way…) Land is in sight, effortlessly we speed towards it. What will it be like? I can’t wait to feel the firm ground, to drink from the fresh stream, to enjoy the shade trees. Can I really climb those high hills? It will be difficult–and risky. But the view will be so rewarding.

I’m becoming a little obsessed with all the things I want to do when I arrive.My head swims with plans for “setting up camp” and at the same time exploring the land. The excitement mounts. It won’t be long now.

I can’t help but turn to look back. I can barely see the place where I was “rescued.” It is rapidly fading into the distance. I had no idea that it would turn out this way. Everything has changed. I really thought that getting to “dry land” would somehow take the form of slowly swimming my way into “making it” as a trainer and video producer–or something, I wasn’t sure what. The only thing I truly knew then was that I could *never* go back to an IT “day job.”

Never say never.

Through a series of steps my heart changed. It started with a request from my wife; one of those little please-look-at-this-job-openings requests. Sigh…. I don’t want a “day job!” I cannot go back to Cubicle Purgatory. Never the less, I clicked on the link to the opening and started reading: Judson University. Hmmm. We know something about Judson, what with my wife being in the community band and my oldest son taking music lessons and courses there. Then I read Judson’s mission statement. That really started me thinking–and praying. By the time I filled out the application, including my testimony and answering various questions about how I would approach IT within a Christian university (vs. Corporate America), I started getting very excited about the possibility of joining Judson.

Along the way, one of our church services was on “Ask, Seek, Knock.” I felt like God was speaking directly to me. The following Sunday we sang, “Where you lead I will follow,” which became my theme song for the next several weeks.

In preparing for the interviews I had never been so nervous in all my career days. Finally I realized that this was a bit too nervous; not quite a panic attack, but kind of getting there. Then it dawned on me: there was a spiritual battle going on here. So my wife and I prayed together, and a calmness came over me, a sense that no matter which way the Lord leads, it will be good–because He will be in the lead.

During the interview with five key faculty, including the “hiring manager”/provost of the university, we all seemed to connect well, so well that the meeting went over time by an hour. Between that meeting and a meeting with the Technology Services staff I felt convinced that if Judson made the offer, I would gladly accept it.

And so here I am, thrilled to be heading towards a new “island” in life, a new part of the harvest field to labor in. I can’t wait! Sure, there will be bumps along the way and I am a little nervous about the newness of it all and the challenges and the unknowns–but in all of that comes the additional excitement and attraction.

Above all else, there’s the exhilaration of knowing that I’m being called to Judson. I know it as sure as I knew that God called me to Chicago all those years ago. I know it as sure as when He led me to Willow Creek, first as a member, then for 3 years on staff, and then continuing on as a volunteer. I know it about as sure as anyone can know anything.

How do I know? I can’t give any empirical evidence, at least none that would satisfy a skeptic. Certainly, I could create a list all of the “coincidences” that led to this moment, and then say “only God.” Or I could talk about how Judson’s mission is a cause I feel very draw to, or how the position lines up with my spiritual gifts and my background, passions and skills, or how thrilled my wife and family are, for this is at last a place where they too can connect and be involved in ways that fit them amazingly well. True and wonderful though all that is, those aren’t really the reasons. The overriding reason that I know I am called to this position is that the Real Jesus keeps confirming it over and over in my heart.

I just know.

It’s a “voice” (and I’m being very metaphorical) that whispers, “get up” or “I have not forgotten you” or nothing at all tangible, yet leaves a profound mark in my heart. At the core of it all, I just know. I know my Shepherd’s voice.

And no “paper Jesus” can do that.

No more swimming in circles, no more confusion about which way to go. I feel like shouting “LAND HO!” yes! If I just lost you, please read “My Own Personal Helm’s Deep.” You can jump to paragraph 5, which will put the “land ho” comment into context.

Things have suddenly come into focus. New adventures ahead! I’ll be posting various “adventures in… (who knows)” soon.

Till then, always remember pixels are not people. Translation: Social networking can be a good thing, but it’s not true Community. If it were, God would not have walked with Adam and Eve during the cool of the day. He would have made them His Facebook friends.

I could tell that morning had come. It wasn’t the light forcing its way through the curtains that told me. It wasn’t the cough from the children’s room, it wasn’t the dog yawning in her bed. Not even the fitful stirrings of my wife laying beside me told me. No, those things didn’t really tell me anything. Yet I knew that morning had come, and despite the inevitability of it’s arrival, I found myself heaving a deep sigh.

I knew that morning had come because my usual “host” was applying its usual pressure; a rhythmic throbbing inside my head that seemed to possess a twisted sense of delight, saying “it’s morning, and there isn’t a d#*$* thing you can do about it!” It pounds at my head, it pulls at my neck refusing to be ignored.

Another morning has come whether I like it or not. At least if I sit up, the throbbing in my neck will ease. If I get something hot to drink the headache will abate. If I move around and try to stretch a little, the other various pains will dissipate.

But physical aches are not my real concern. With the right spirit, they can be managed. Yet who can endure an ache of the soul? The bodily pains are just a symptom. The real ache is the God-awful reality that yet another empty, meaningless day has begun.

It is a cycle of futility, measured by the movement of the sun, marked by frustration, confusion and battles with despair. How can a man muster the courage to fight his way up a hill when he doesn’t even know which hill to take?

I feel as if I am in the middle of a vast, cold ocean. I look in one direction, then another, then another, then another, in a slow, 360 degree spin. Yet I can find no land in sight, only an infinite horizon all around me.

I don’t know which way to swim. So I tread water, circling, looking all around but taking no real direction. If I choose a course and pursue it with all my heart, I might be wrong. I might exhaust all my resources and drown–and if I drown, I’ll take my family down with me.

On the other hand, if I don’t choose a course, I will certainly drown. But what if I set off in one direction, go for it and at least try? No, no, I can’t. I know myself too well. Too many times have I swelled up with hope and enthusiasm only to start out–and then panic, change my mind and start swimming in some other direction. The result: I end up swimming in circles, one false start after another. And if I do that long enough I will drown even quicker than if I stay put, treading water. At least by treading I can conserve my energy while trying to figure out which way to go. Yes, that’s the thing to do. Don’t strike out until I’m sure which way to go.

But I can’t figure out which way to go! And if I don’t do something soon, I will drown. Time is running out!

Occasionally, I see a piece of drift wood off in the distance. It’s too tempting to resist, so I swim for it. Gathering some wood here and there helps me stay afloat. Besides, it takes my mind off of the confusion. It gives me the illusion of progress. But I know that the wood or an occasional broken down raft or other floating object is not the answer. They can’t keep me afloat. They can only afford me a short rest.

Drift wood and the like seems like a God send…. or is it? Am I wasting valuable energy swimming here and there and everywhere gathering up “drift wood” when I should be spending that precious energy on figuring out which direction to go–and going there?

So there I lay in bed. Morning has forced itself upon me. And with it comes the endless ritual of treading water, trying out one direction, getting confused and/or tired, backing up, trying another direction, searching, looking, pleading, begging, crying out for guidance.

But I get no answer. Nothing.

No sign pointing in the direction I should go. No plan, no guidance, not a hint or even a whisper. Not even a general principle from which to draw my own conclusions. Bodily pains I have relative hope of enduring, but what soul can withstand the cold vacuum of “nothingness”?

It is as if My Paper Jesus is slowly being freeze-dried and crumbled up by the cold “reality” that there is nothing out there. Is it true what they say, that the spiritual universe, much like the physical one, is essentially an enormous vacuum, deep, vast, empty and cold, so very, very cold? It may be punctuated by the occasional “star” of inspiration or “galaxy” of wisdom, but those little points of light are the exception. The very essence of the universe is that of overwhelming emptiness–and soul crushing silence.

That’s how my day started. Pretty typical actually. But after pulling myself up out of bed, and eventually finding myself in the kitchen, then the shower and then the car, I found myself at the library parking lot (it was time to try some job hunting). And there I was, struggling to get out of my car and get started when, despite my best efforts to avoid Christian radio stations, I heard a song on K-Love. Not just any song, but one where the lyrics declared “all my devotion to You.”

That was just about the last thing I wanted to hear. I could not possibly relate to a devotion so strong, so full of energy when I wasn’t so sure God is even there. It certainly didn’t feel like He was there, and I couldn’t point to anything that shows me He is there. Perhaps I needed to face the cold reality that I’m alone. Maybe like so many of my atheistic and agnostic friends and acquaintances (all of whom handle life much better than I do), I needed to buck up and stop acting like Winnie the Pooh, always looking for Christopher Robin to come in and bail him out. They would say I need to realize that there is no Christopher Robin; that I’m on my own.

Yet in the midst of that song Someone spoke to me. I kid you not. You must believe me, I’m not saying this to put a rosy, Christianee ending to the story. It really happened. What He said was, as usual, not at all audible. And as usual, it was brief. But it was clear, oh so very clear. And it was powerful, like a gentle whisper, like a light spring breeze. It was a spark of light in a dark tunnel. It was as if He said “get up.” That was it, just “get up.” And with that I felt this need to just put one foot in front of the other and simply trust Him.

My reaction, I couldn’t help but reflect what the song on K-Love was now saying: “I will serve You.” I said it out loud, I had to. But I knew full well the irony of that statement. I don’t have the foggiest idea how to serve Him. But that’s OK. Somehow, in the midst of treading water, still gripped by the fear of drowning, still confused (still a bit angry, truth be told), I could not help but say out loud, “forgive me Lord.” Even now, while telling you, dear reader, what happened, I cannot help but feel His love, His joy even. Joy in the midst of pain. Comfort even though I am still confused. Peace, even though my heart still wants to rage.

I guess now I can actually say, and say it with integrity, “this is the day that the Lord has made.”

I still don’t know which direction to go. I’m still concerned that I’ll do the wrong thing–or worse, do nothing–and then drown and take my whole family down with me. But at least the despair is gone…. actually, held at bay for now.

Epilogue: (or, Even More on This Subject)

In “The Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers” (movie version) Legolas the elf exchanges heated words with Aragorn, a fellow warrior. The situation at Helm’s Deep was hopeless, for a massive army, the likes of which that land has never seen before, was about to pour itself out relentlessly upon their refuge. Legolas declares that most of those who fled into the fortress are either too old to fight or too young, that they are farmers and wood choppers, not trained soldiers; that they are terrified–and that they will all die. Finally, Aragorn shouts at him “then I will die with them!”

Later Legolas apologizes, “it was wrong of me to despair.” Aragorn’s commitment to valor, to right and wrong, to defending Helm’s Deep and all in it to the point of death, won Legolas over. The commitment of one stirred up a renewed commitment in the other.

Maybe that’s what happened to me. Maybe the strong commitment declared in a song that says “I’m giving everything to You” was just the right tool at the right time for Someone to speak to me. That Someone was none other than the Real Jesus.

Yet again my “paper Jesus” failed me: my head knowledge crumbled under the weight of life. But when I opened myself up to God and confessed that my intellectual assent was being ripped to pieces, the Real Jesus met me in my hour of need. And this time all He said was “get up.” But it was lembas bread for the soul. (If I just lost you, click on “lembas bread” and read about it in Wikipedia)

What an incredible day this has been. I never would have dreamed that it turned out this way–never. It’s now time to relax and then turn in for the night. For once I’m rather eager to see what tomorrow holds!

Hey…. my headache is gone. Well, whaddoya know.

Isaiah 61:1-3  The Real Jesus will provide for those “in Zion” a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

Isaiah 61:1-3 (New International Version)

Isaiah 61
The Year of the LORD’s Favor
1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
[author's note: does that sound rather familiar? Check out what Jesus read--and proclaimed in Luke 4:14-21]

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, [a]

2 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,

3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.

November 27, 2007
Notes on Max Lucado’s book “Cure for the common life” chapter 3:
Max keeps using Moses’ life as and example. For me that is perfect. I have really enjoyed the recent series on Moses at our church.

From Max: His design defines your destiny.

I believe that. No problem. I’m just not so sure I know what His design of me is.

Maybe I do know but I’m just not willing to walk off the cliff of faith and really give myself to my design.

Actually, my dilemma is not so much like the Indiana Jones cliff of faith, where all he needs to do is step out into “thin air” and start walking on an invisible(ish) bridge.

I feel like my situation requires a lot more effort than that; a lot more grunt labor. It’s more like I am at the bottom of a fjord, in a shaky little boat with no where to go and I am staring up at a huge row of cliffs. The Cliffs of Insanity.

Yeah! That’s exactly what it feels like! The Cliffs of Insanity.

Whoa. Those cliffs are really tall. And the black ship of unemployment is gaining on me! How in the blazes am I ever going to get up those cliffs?? I need a giant. The last “giant” that got me up similar cliffs dumped me (called it “down sizing” or something like that). I’m just going to have to find myself a new giant…

Tentatively, I start to climb up the cliff (for the allegorically challenged amongst us, that would be like sending out resumes, asking for job leads, all that sort of thing). Maybe I’ll find a giant along the way. At this rate, maybe not.

“God! I do not suppose you coulda speed things up? Like lower a rope or a tree branch or something?”

Why do I feel like God is saying to me:
“I do not think that you will accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.”

(That does put a damper on our relationship.)

God is trying to “kill” me??? No, my mind hasn’t just fried a memory chip. Remember, this is allegorical. Please read on…

God: “You know that I am going to do it ‘left handed.’ If I use my right hand, pttf! Over too quickly.”

me: “Oh, have it your way!” (great! Just what I feared. He’s going to kill something in me AND He’s going to take His time doing it!)

me: “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks. So…”

God: “let me guess, you would appreciate it if I wouldn’t distract you,–with thoughts of a life that really truly lives by faith, all that sort of thing, eh?”

me: “Well, I… I wouldn’t put it quite that way… but I am pretty scared of slipping off this cliff and dashing my body on the rocks below. You have noticed the rocks, haven’t you? There’s the mortgage rock, the grocery bill rock, the medical….”

God (ignoring my question): “Oh? Just how would you put it?”

me: (gulp…) “I, ah, I have no response to that” (yep, another movie reference, Joe vs. the Volcano)

God: “I thought so. Now are you willing to accept my help or do you want to hang on that cliff of false hope a while longer? Good. Now, I’m not going to suddenly yank you up and out of this cliff, but here is what I am going to do”

God drops something over the cliff: it’s a rope.

God: “I want you to grab that, and start climbing. Never mind how tired you think your grip is….”

At first when I looked at the rope, I wasn’t sure what it was made of. Besides it looked thin and scraggly. And, what if it burns? And how was I going to grab it? I would have to let go of the cliff to do that! But then I realized what it was. The”rope” was a memory, the memory of when God led me to Chicago in the first place.

Back to Reality:

I kid you not! When I cried out for His help (emphasis on the word cried), He brought my mind back to the day I arrived in Chicago. I remembered His faithfulness to me and all the miraculous ways that He provided for me. He led me to Chicago and He provided for my needs. But since this blog entry has gotten rather long, even by my standards, we shall have to save the story of my journey to Chicago for another day. It’s a real exciting one, you won’t want to miss it!

Bye, bye, for now. Please come back next time for more Adventures on the Cliffs of Insanity! And be sure to remember all of God’s faithful ways with you! It beats clinging to false hopes!