off my chest

when something's bottled up for a while and doesn't go away, it's cool to get it off your chest, even if you risk pain or perpetuating confusion. at least you've said your piece. and now i have peace. and grace to continue.



thanks be to God, my beautiful, adoring Adonai. for you have blessed a humbled man.

probably strange... came out of nowhere, huh?

Hey everyone, i know this probably seems to have come out of freakin nowhere! and to some extent it did. i'm finally having a some time alone with God, at this very moment, and i just wanted to say how beautiful God really is.

i personally forget it all too often. maybe we all do. i encourage us all to turn to our God, and seek the truth of his love and grace, and the beauty of his face.

without him, i'd have nothing real to offer anyone on here. i don't remember who said this, but i love it:

"what a man is, on his knees, before the LORD,
that he is, and nothing more."

yeah, sounds about right. i know i play myself and my work up (personally just me, i'm saying) to be something big. i really do believe it is. but i think i put too much of the guts and glory on myself whenever i start talking about my activism. this was never the intended outcome. but it happens all too often. i love my work, i love what i do! but i can't let it be the main focus of my heart, or else my heart will shrivel and dry up under strain and pressure. this is where God comes in, and if i'm diligent about going back to him, then i'll have no issues of how strong and full my heart is. my God is a God who loves and cares so deeply for ALL his children. he'd do anything (and did everything) to see his children get the best for them, in this life!

my God definitely cares about human rights, if he cares at all about his children. i like to think my work is done with him, as a friend and partner and servant and son, all at the same time. this way i can do it with perfect love even if my actions do not seem perfect.

PAX.

heat

the heat is on.
i feel idle once again.
i feel a waste of energy and knowledge.
i need to be out there.
gotta go fight.

the heat is on.

i picked up 'Not On Our Watch' again, after over a month. just in the mood for something political and activism-related. and now i feel more lost than ever.

missions is important, and not more or less important than justice, i believe. frankly, i think Jesus seemed to emphasize how we are to live more than what we are living for in the end. i could be wrong. but that's just the impression i get.

i feel idle once again.

i'm in Africa, but there's so little i can do. i can't give money since i'm so low on it myself. i can't write letters since letters across Africa rarely seem to make it where they're going (sent one to Dodoma, TZ, from here, and one to Capetown--two months ago. no reply.)

i miss lobbying with my colleague Bethany P. she and i were a good team. we hit two congresspersons from Ohio in one week, while thousands of other Amnesty activists were doing the same nation-wide. and that was back in March. i can't do anything like that here. in Darfur, people are still targets.

i feel a waste of energy and knowledge.

i learned a lot about Darfur and other issues like it, while working with Bethany in the spring. i've learned a lot while reading this book. i've learned a lot from peers and fellow passionate people.

i'm nearly consumed by the energy for this task. i'm at the point where i'm willing to pull out anything i can from companies my Roth IRA is invested in, if they're in any way connected to Sudan. i'll march straight up Capital Hill chanting if you give me a chance.

i need to be out there.

sitting here, with all this energy cooped up inside me, feeling so useless and yet so potent, i can think of only two solutions: either go to Khartoum personally, or likewise to D.C.

i need to be among the ranks of the marchers, the lobbyists, the mega-phone shouters and screamers, the political writers and journalists, the eager students and sacrificial soldiers. but i'm here, with an ever watchful eye for just such an opportunity.

gotta go fight.

standing at the edge of the cliff, what else is there to do. i've been backed into the corner by the indifference and ignorance around me. the people with the blank faces don't realize where i am, how close i am to the edge.

but now i've gotta take a stand, raise the banner, draw attention, raise awareness. shake things up. fight. things get dirty when people raise havoc. quiet is more destructive than loud protest. i gotta go join the fight.

Get into gear and make some noise.
-Archer

doing singleness the wrong way...

flipping shut the novel i checked out of the library here on the base a few days ago, a murder mystery called 'The Poet', i'm nearly to page 100 of the paperback, and the action's starting to kick into high gear, as the protagonist, Jack McEvoy--a homicide reporter at a Denver newspaper--stumbles onto a theory that link's his cop brother's recent suicide with another cop suicide 2000 miles away in Chicago, making it look like a serial killer. he sets his sights on Chicago, D.C., and the FBI HQ on the east coast, aiming to track down this story.

McEvoy's a 35-year-old bachelor who's lived in the same apartment for the past 9 years, working the same reporter beat at the paper.

reading about his life suddenly taking a turn for... (at least) the more interesting and exciting, i found myself strapping on my bag, slipping into my sandals, throwing on my shirt, shrugging sleep off, grabbing my 1.5 liter Kilimanjaro water bottle, with the label ripped off, and heading down the steps from my bunk in the dorm room, toward the bathroom. stop at the sink on the way out, scrub my face with water and wake myself up, then run my fingers through my hair that i'm growing out in a rather mottley fashion, and head out into the open courtyard, feeling invincible.

standing coolly in the shadows, my unkempt brown hair striking strange shadows across the tan bricks and chop-cut grass behind the short bushes, i breathe deeply, and suddenly realize the attitude shift that's come over me.

i suddenly feel like i'm on top of the world. i'm only going to check my email and perhaps blog a bit, really, so why this high? nothing fancy or new about me... just the bag i spent less than 14 bucks on in town, after getting a wad of cash out of the NBC ATM in Arusha. maybe it's because everything went so smoothly, or just because i am dwelling so much in God's goodness to me, that i'm frankly forgetting the key to all of this:

once i get to feeling this good, i'm likely to forget where the source of this joy really is.

i am liable to phase God out of the celebration, right at the kick-off.

i am on the verge of doing singleness the wrong way. where i start to get the hyper-inflated sense of self-worth, and my own ability to get involved and actually influence things. me and my intentionally shabby appearance begin to form an ego to go along with the care-freeness of it all.

i gotta remember--and reclaim--the simple truth of this only working if it's only about Jesus. not about being single.
the latter's great and all, but not if it's not filled in by something much, much better!

it's a daily thing: re-working on that. but it's good. just can't get too caught up with the crazy hair and the deadly hyper-inflation of Asher.

Peace.
Jesus.
Love.

-archer

think for myself

there are two different trains of thought that i find myself bouncing back and forth between here: the willingness to accept everything. and the need to contest everything.

this DTS is teaching me about these two major viewpoints of the world. and everyone fits into one or the other. for the most part.

on the one hand, most of my African brothers and sisters can be taught anything by our speakers at this school, and it becomes their belief, in a heartbeat. that's not always bad, but it's dangerous when several times teachers and speakers here have slipped up and delivered us false information.

which brings me to the next group. all of us westerners here (by far the out-numbered ones, running close to 7:1 on the base) often jump at every chance to complain about anything. it comes from being raised and schooled into thinking that as westerners we're always right. this is also dangerous (though contesting things is not always bad).

it becomes difficult for me, as one westerner (the one who'd at first been so open to complete assimilation with African culture, and is now seemingly the one most anxious to return to the familiar things in life), as i wade between two sharply different outlooks.

i have definitely grown to question a lot of things about human relations, theological truths, applied biblical truths, and crazy jazz like that.

the most interesting thing is learning to think for myself. as a dear friend of mine puts it, i am "the representation of the bandwagon fallacy." (thank you Emily!)

it's what you've got to do, think for yourself, remembering that no other human has any right to direct you, rather you must belong wholly in your own realm with the God you are in love with. God meets everyone on a different level. ergo at the same time as thinking for myself, i've also gotta be looking first at Jesus, and letting him tear into my soul, carving out the junk i don't need and establishing the throne i pledged to him there, at age three.

Jesus: "well, asher, it's about time!"
asher: "yeah, well, ya see... um... i never really realized what i meant! i mean, come on, i was young... yeah, i know that's cliche, but it works, right?"
Jesus: "how old are you now, asher?"
asher: (ashamed, awkward silence)
Jesus: "do you really not trust me with your heart and soul? do you really think you're the better driver? or am i just your 'co-pilot'?"
asher: "uh... Jesus?"
Jesus: "yeah?"
asher: "i haven't taken really good care of myself, already. you sure you wanna drive a junker? i mean, i'm no lamborghini."
Jesus: "have you seen any other lamborghinis on the road?"
asher: "not exactly. only in magazines and billboards and TV and what-not."
Jesus: "yeah. thought so. they're just fakin' it."
asher: "figures."
Jesus: "yeah, they don't let me drive either. they just make it out of their own kit. spit-shine and whatever else makes em look good. but they don't last. if you let me drive, asher, we'll last. you and me. that's all there is too it. no girlfriends. no porn. no beer. no joints. no pride. no gossip. no quarrelling. no disobeying your parents--*"
asher: "wait! what? hey now--"
Jesus: "...just you and me. do you trust me? really? good. open up."

so i guess this makes me wonder if i'm really thinking for myself, as the term would imply, simplistically. but, ah, what the heck... probably better this way, eh?

PAX.
-archer



*(though this is pretty much irrelevant to the blog, Romans 1.18-32 clearly outlines tons of other sins on par with homosexuality. yes, i have an agenda. i don't deny it. but this is simply the truth i wanna show here. but i'll write more about that later...)

what i am coming to learn, and coming to love.

please read this article.

i am relatively unacquainted with the truth of suffering, of hopelessness.

i am a poor missionary student.
no stable bank account state-side.
the poorest of the westerners in this YWAM DTS in Arusha, Tanzania.
the one who's broken two hearts in one fell swoop--mine among the two.
the one who's defied everything about my old culture.
the one who can barely afford to be using this computer.
the one who can barely afford to call home.
the brother and son missing his family.
the brother missing his brother.
the brother missing his sister.
the brother missing his dog.
the one who cries the most.
the one who has mood swings.
the one who hurts most among the team of students.
the one who has just recently encountered personal hopelessness, and barely survived it.
the one aching for ancient voices, both human and otherwise.
the one who is at peace.
the one who writes too much, reads too much, thinks too much.
...but is still held and loved by God.

just read this article.

if you think you know suffering, this'll step on your toes, laugh at your ideas, and then lovingly give you a better idea of how to live, and how to look at life.

Amen.
Peace.
Love.
Joy.
Suffering.
to You.
Amen.

z3r0

my bank account used to be relatively full. like, good enough for me. single, male 19-yr-old book lover who's not materialistic.

but today, in a couple blinks of an eye... credit card, phone, car insurance, and fender bender costs have nearly killed it.

i was a wreck about it earlier today.

the day after i find out YWAM accepts me to the September DTS, i lose whatever financial advantage i had.

the move is killing our family's finances, too. so, they're not really going to be able to support me entirely. i've got pretty close to $2,500 to $3,000 i've gotta raise. right now, look's like by sundown i'm gonna have less than $500 i can actually call my own. in one day i lose about $1,200.

my wastefulness is my sin. these are the wages of my sin. sort of. nice play on words, huh?

as much as i'm dumbfounded by my stupidity and sin, i am at peace with the likelihood that somehow God's still gonna carry me over to Africa. to YWAM. to Tanzania. to my brothers and sisters who will teach me how to be the man of God i will spend the rest of my life trying to be.

God is awesome. and never short of cash. amen.

sticky

i am not entirely broken anymore... or so i feel.
i'm vaguely put back together, and i'm waiting for the moment when i will finally obey the calling i feel on my life.
vaguely put back together, but the glue's still sticky and it slows me down in the days when i should be picking up speed.

but then again if i speed up too fast i might shatter all over again.

i'm going to Africa one way or another. it's a life of God's calling for me. a daily obedience is the only way to go.

Brother Andrew got to be a smuggler. and still is, i think. i wanna do what he did and does. i wanna stand motionless and fearless in the face of men and machines dominated by evil desires. i want them to be awakened to the reality that they don't run the show. i want to give hope to someone just as broken as me, to help glue them back together. another humpty-dumpty.

((i think i've heard it said that humpty dumpty was helped only by the King's MEN and the King's HORSES.... but what about the King, himself?))

maybe i can be the King's hands for someone behind bars, or maybe i'll be the one behind bars. maybe my execution's slated for sunrise, and my brother in the cell across from me... as we hold fast to a look between each others' eyes... maybe my brother gives me strength so my knees won't be feeble as i'm escorted to the blocks. maybe my brother and i share one last prayer, as the golden sun slips bitter-sweet through the slatted window over my head. maybe it's gonna be a relief from the gnawing hunger to breathe one last time that day. maybe in that last prayer, something in God's agenda comes along and boosts my brother out of his cell and he raises a church.

if all i ever do is make eye contact with my brother in the cell across from me and never see him (or anyone else) again, then i have faith that God will take care of the rest.

PAX DOMINI

the straps of my sandals are my home. whenever i am wearing them... i know God has me exactly where he wants me..

i don't know much about my future... i barely know my next step... i pray for incredible courage as i lift my feet to plant them in the straps of my sandals. once they are there and i take the next step, my fears will susbide and i will truly depend on you, my beloved and beautiful Adonai!

I pray that you will never leave me, although i already know that you have never even allowed an inkling of such a thought to occur to you.

I will depend on you and some of my brothers and sisters and your work through them to survive the rest of my life, my God, my King!

I will stand in your presence every moment of my life... i will bow at your feet and thank you and praise you for everyone you send my way.

i will thank you every waking moment for the beautiful and upright woman you have blessed me with as a companion. we will strive on, seeking you every morning.

i love my sandals, God, i love that once i put them on, i will have everything in the world. the clothes on my back and the bread on my table, or the water running between my fingers... God you will provide. whether i sleep under the stars or a roof made of drywall and plumbing, or plaster, or tin sheeting.... God i will ever be under your wings.

When i come home to you, leaving this earth, i will be most thankful, and i will really truly understand the depths of your love...

but i know that from the moment i put my sandals on, i will be with you in ALL that i do... God let your piller of fire-- your shakainah-- be ever present. and be unto everyone i know, everyone i encounter, everyone i love, exactly what you are to me-- my strength, my hope, my courage, and most importantly, your are simply my plan, God.

i love you, Adonai, and i thank you with every fiber of my being and every strand of my soul...

Amen.

"Right Here!"

listening to Out Of Eden's song "Soldiers" right now in a hotel in Indiana on vacation...

Emily's myspace page has a list of some of the sweetest frickin songs.... the problem is how frequently she changes them! :)
So, listening to their sweet, strong voices as they call on a new generation to rise up...

"all my people in the place
lookin good with style an' grace
but here's my question-listen clear-
where my soldiers at? right here!"

I guess i best be on my way... start risin up and callin out... makin sure i'm ready for a fight!

I'm coming into a very strong relationship with Adonai, and Emily is largely the one i must thank.
my dad's even noticed how much stronger my relationship with Jesus is.
i've even noticed that grace has taken a far greater hold on nearly every aspect of my life! i am so thankful for where i am at right now!



this grace that spreads over a wretch like me and calls me by my name in Christ. I do not know what my name is, as God calls me, but i am sure that it is beautiful. I am sure it is spoken with lovely tones every moment i breathe, as he watches over me. my Adonai. my Adonai. my precious Adonai.

"i will press on, for the sake of your beautiful name..." -ZOEGirl, 'Beautiful Name'

i am one content wretch right now :)

God's peace be with you all today and always!

Julian of Norwich

Julian of Norwich once said, "Sin is necessary, but all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well."

I just remembered this old quote by a very respectable character in history. her name was Julain of Norwich, and i guess she was considered a mystic of sorts.

I don't really know anything much about her, save from her gender and that she was around centuries ago. and that a lot of people like to quote her.

come to think of it, i'm not even entirely sure where i first read this phrase... but i know i wrestled with clearly defining it for a long time. and (wouldn't ya figure) it hits me at the one moment i am actually examining myself, and not even thinking of the quote or anything (or anyone) else.

my mother really prodded me once i printed this off and scotch-taped it to the front of my bedroom door. i couldn't really answer the "why", i just knew there was truth to it.

i just realized that it's meaning is quite obvious:

without sin, we undoubtedly equate ourselves to God. to be equittable with the God responsible for all things in the known and unknown world entirely devalues God. if we did not sin, why would we need God?
It is only in God that i believe we realize who we really are, and that there is only God's way to go. "my way or the highway" pretty much.

i know from experience, the highway gets real old real fast. i think it's high time i realign.

pax.

the only really tough teaching of Jesus...

is obedience. we all have our own ideas of the better way to run things.

and mine is a very liberal method of reform in respects such as fighting terrorism and homelessness.

to fight homelessness, every level of every government must get involved at the core, and earnestly strive to make things better for each individual. otherwise, simply kicking them out of the parks is not gonna cut it. which is obvious in this situation, i hope.

however, it is this phony "war on terror" that really baffles me. i know i sound like i'm just ranting, but this really makes no sense to me. they shoot at innocent civilians and bomb innocent civilians. they're no worse than anoyone else with a gun.

very few terrorists we hear about come from palaces. if any. period.

it is our responsibility as the "Developed World" to assist the "Developing World" otherwise everything collapses one way or another.

It is up to groups and individuals to see the real problem of global poverty here.
because obviously governments in the west are simply NOT understanding the truth. we must make them understand via advocacy, delegation, and simply making a lot of noise!

the problem of terrorism is not in who-has-what-gun...
it's in who-has-no-food.

you wanna fight terrorism, mr. pres... try feeding people who ask for bread.
i dont wanna judge you because i know i'm a lot worse, but i just hope that, as someone in a position of power, you'll remember one very important tough teaching of Jesus:

"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" -Matthew 7:9-11

after October 5, 2006 i got sick of yelling at you, mr. pres, because i realized i was just as bad as you. all i did was yell. now i wanna simply advise.

in a couple years i'm gonna be living in another country. maybe i'll even take on a new citizenship. but i'll at least be TRYING to do what you are CHOOSING NOT to do!

you an' me ain't that different, you know. i just see the truth as something i can't hide from. you see t as something to ignore.

i pray your successor's someone actually willing to be used by God.

maybe i'll find it easier to obey them if i see God in their actions.



if i can't forgive you, then i can't forgive myself... just give me time

that hallway of 82 and a half...

i'm standing in a hallway right now, lined with 82 and a half open doors.

yeah that half-door's quite the confusing one.

until i am on the north american continent again in late january 2008, i will not know which one is best. hopefully 81 and a half doors will close. or maybe 82, and then that half-door will grow open or something.

being torn kinda sucks a lot.
Africa will shape me and define me. create me and build me. support me and direct me.
until then i will see only open doors. even the violent ones. i hope those ones close so the peaceful ones can be more appealling. but i can roll with whatever. i shall take all because i have made peace with all. all but that half-door.

still workin' on that one.

the mountains are trembling and time is crescendoing earth's very existence, God's very presence. it's all here. now i just must wait. the entire puzzle is waiting for that one large piece. i am waiting for that one large piece. then can i know whether or not i will someday marry a beautiful queen. until then i struggle to daily make peace with the likelihood that i will go solo on this earth.

if i do marry, she better be fighting by my side. and i better be fighting by her side.

when i recognize you next to me, surging into the jungle mist, across the hazy savannah, and the searing Sahara... then will i take a knee to your soft hand and reach for your finger. if i may.

if i am extinguished before that moment, know that i wanted to reach that point. know that i wanted to get there. but that my number was up too early. i'm at peace with that. ready to go.

"how are you not afraid to go over there?"
"because i know i'm going to die there."

..."good nuff fo me"...

pax to the beloved of heavenly Adonai

grip.

i am in Macedonia, OH--right now. i am sitting in a hotel room which i am renting alone for the day, the night, and the morning tomorrow. i spent last night here already and today i have only been in contact with the hostess and waitresses at Denny's across the parking lot.

oh, and with God.

yeah. finally. this was why i came out here. to be alone with God.

and i think all he wants to keep telling me is what he wants from me. I've actually gotten pissed at him already this morning.
pissed because i'm not in Africa yet. i wish i could blame him for my not being there yet. but perhaps i am solely at blame.

it really doesn't matter who's to blame... the point is what he's telling me. and i think he's honestly telling me to be an example of his love. an example of his love in Africa.

i am not at home, and even when i return to Cleveland tonight, i will not be at home. i don't believe i ever really have been.

in speaking with Evon last night, i told her i wanted just one revelation on this retreat. and i think i've gotten it. i think it's more affirmation that Africa is where he wants me... as soon as i can get there.

I want peace in this world. but no matter how few wars there will be in the future... there will never be peace unless my brothers and sisters in Africa can stop going to bed each night with the fear that they won't wake in the morning.

as i put in my prayer journal this morning--

"Hurt me & hold me
Disturb me and wound me.

All I want in this world
is to live & work so that
my grave may read:

'He love and
served others'"


...love God. love people. nothing else matters...

Lamentations

Bitterness is a plague,
And I have been afflicted.

I laughed; I did not weep.
My face gave an appearance of joy,
Not solemnity.

I felt Your Peace swell inside of me,
And I rejoiced;
I gratified myself in it.

I screamed and I danced,
While my heart grew haughty;
And you grew weary of my foolish pride.

Your Presence fled;
My heart singed;
My flesh burned and bled.

And I cried:
"Oh Lord, forgive me for I have sinned."