Articles & Posts
"Where the heck have you been?"
I know. I know. In the world of blogging I have been gone since, like, the 17th Century. I woke up this morning and realised, "You just disappeared, John, and didn't tell them where you were going." As soon as we returned from the epic Wales Boot Camp in late May, I began a sabbatical. Part spiritual, part medical, this sabbatical was longgggg overdue and desparately needed. So, I sorta ran out the door (literally) with a bag stuffed with clothes, books, journals, cigars, fishing gear, granola bars and yep, pretty much fell off the planet. at least you now know why I've been silent as a blogger. Now, truth is, I thought I'd blog through my sabbatical. You know, honest thoughts about how important sabbath is, and raw stuff on what taking sabbatical is like. Then I realised, how twisted is that? I mean good grief. The whole purpose of a sabbatical is major unplug for restoration. Part of what I needed to deal with on sabbatical was this irony of "be productive, keep your voice out there, have something to show for this" stuff. I was even going to video some of it. Whew. Pretty wacked out. I mean, the opposite of sabbatical, right? so, that's why I have been offline. And will be for a bit longer. But I did want to say hello, and I'm doing well, and sorry for dashing out the door and leaving my cereal bowl on the counter and my socks on the floor. Hope you are well, too. Do sieze what you can of summer joy before the rush of the fall demands swallows you up in its momentum.
John Eldredge
Grace
"I will sing of your love and justice; to you, O LORD, I will sing praise. I will be careful to lead a blameless life - when will you come to me? I will walk in my house with a blameless heart." Psalm 101:1,2 I want to lead a blameless life. I want to live a life of love. I want Jesus. I want to love him and carry his love to every single person in my life. In my house. In my work. In my grocery store. But guess what? I'm not. Dang. I was pondering the above verses the other morning and feeling hopeless. Helpless. Even when I try to live well and walk with God, I don't do it perfectly. (What? You, too?) I fail people. They get hurt. So then what? Beyond asking for forgiveness and accepting the reality that I have clay feet...then what? What do I do with the sorrow inside? The answer once again is found in Jesus. The hope of Jesus Christ. He is blameless. He is perfect. He loves well and perfectly and with cunning and wisdom and untold magnificence one hundred percent of the time. 100%. Holy. Always! And he is the only one. As a believer, I can imagine the arrows of accusation coming against my heart - the accusation that is fueled by the enemy and wholly untrue AND the accusation that may be fueled by the enemy but is founded in reality - and picture them passing by me and going straight into the cross. Jesus paid for that too. He knows. He took care of that. He is not turning his face away...ever. There is mercy. There is grace. It's so good to offer it to ourselves. AND to offer it to the people who fail us - or those we love. To choose to obey Christ and think the best of others. To pray blessing and favor and more of Jesus for everyone. Those we hurt. Those who hurt us or others. For ourselves. I am humbled and grateful. I will get it right one day...perfectly. When I am transformed perfectly into the image of my King. That is my destiny and it is yours. And we are on our way. Thank you, Jesus. Please come.
Stasi Eldredge
Summer sabbath
So, yesterday was the official "first day of summer," if you hadn't noticed. Summer has begun. Though my hunch is, most of us have already jumped the gun and embarked on summer like intentions. The bar-b-que is out, we've gone to the lake once or twice, or enjoyed eating outside or working on a tan or got our tomatoes planted or maybe only (at least) begun to think about what we'd like to do with summer. I, for one, am trying to get a bit of sabbath rest this summer. To help me, if not get the rest than at least think about sabbath a bit more than I do, I've been reading Dan Allender's wonderful book entitled (waddya know) "Sabbath." In it Dan recounts a conversation he overheard, two people "boasting" about the amount of email they get and how much work they have to do. A very common conversation, on I bet we've all been a part of. Dan then notes this: "Boasting about work is a national pastime. The one who works harder, against greater odds, and with fewer resources to gain the greatest ground wins. We are proud that we shoulder such immense responsibility..." Yikes. We say we don't like to be so busy, but the truth is, we are absolutely addicted to it. Just trying slowing down a little and you'll see. Try ignoring your cell phone for 24 hours. Don't use facebook. Don't check your texts or emails. You'll see. Anyhow, we went to the beach for a few days to relax and drink in warmth. I was amazed at the amount of activity was going on in a place of "down time." Folks were surfing, kite boarding, windsurfing, running on the beach, doing yoga in the park, paddle boarding, activity everywhere. Classic. Folks were spending their precious vacation sabbath going hard at it, just like they do the rest of the year. Intense about vacation, how ironic is that? It got me thinking about how much we feel our worth through what we do, what we accomplish. How we also derive a sense of security through frantic activity, by getting on top of things. And then God says, commands even, that we take a genuine sabbath, and we don't know how. I, for one, want to find it. So I'm going to continue this wonderful book of Dan's, and stop blogging. Just wanted to throw the thought your way that work might be in the way (even play as work) and suggest a little summer sabbath.
John Eldredge
God as Deliverer
I was thinking about the name of Jesus. How it means "God saves," or, "God is our deliverer, our salvation." Which got me to thinking about the idea of God as Deliverer, as opposed to, say, the preferred idea of God as Preventer. It made me realize how much I want God to be my Preventer more than Deliverer, meaning, I want him to prevent bad things from happening in my life. Prevent means it never happens to me. Deliver means I am in deep trouble and need God to rescue me. I think we all prefer the notion of God as Preventer. And yet, God is so much more often presented in the Bible as Deliverer. My goodness, just read the Psalms. "Arise, O Lord! Deliver me!" (3:7). "Deliver my life from the sword" (22:20). "For he will deliver the needy who cry out" (72:12). And just think about the history of God's people; it is one deliverance after another. Paul's life is as well, which causes him to say, "On him we have set our hope, that he will continue to deliver us" (2 Cor 1:10). Not prevent. Deliver. It is a very different view of life with God. Now, let me be quick to say that I believe God is also our Preventer. Scripture also presents him as our shield. And we have no idea all that he has shielded us from. Which is actually my point. You don't notice God as Preventer, or shield, because you don't know what was going to happen to you since God shielded you from it. All we experience is those things where we need God to rescue us, to be our Deliverer. I think it would be helpful to come to terms with how much we'd all prefer God to be our Preventer. Because when we hold fast to this view, we experience a lot of turmoil with all those things that don't get prevented. Why did God...how come this...did I not.... You know how this works. Notice how when he doesn't prevent bad things from happening, it often throws us for a loop. We get shaken. We go to doubt, or some sort of self-accusation and blame. It causes a lot of distress. But when we realize God is our Deliverer, it helps us not be thrown by the fact that we sometimes find ourselves thrown into the furnace. God has not abandoned us. We have not blown it. We understand God is far more Deliverer than Preventer, and we can then cry out with confidence "O God, deliver me" and wait with hopeful expectation that he will deliver. Anyhow, the categories are beginning to prove helpful, so I thought I'd share them.
John Eldredge
Happy Summer!
In Colorado Springs, Winter has finally and fully yielded to Summer. The leaves (and yes, there are leaves) are countless shades of green. The hillsides are offering up their secrets of wild irises, Indian paintbrush, blooming mustard, wild geraniums, blue bells, cornflowers, snapdragons and wild roses in an explosion of intricate beauty. Oh my. I am so grateful. It’s real. It’s true. It is not going to last forever but it is going to last for several soul nourishing months! My sons have returned home from college from what was often a grueling year on many levels. Our youngest son’s last day of high school was yesterday and oh – the relief! Like Winter giving way to Summer, their lives have breathing room again. Hope rises. Moments of rest are coming. Time to listen, really listen to the wind in the trees and maybe even discern animals in the clouds. Conversations can linger longer outside without the threat of a paper due or a test in the morning. As much as possible, I too will unplug. I love summer. It’s absolutely my favorite season. A taste of Heaven. Just a taste, I know but a taste still and one I want to savor. The world does not stop turning though. A close relative is very ill. A good friends’ marriage is in worse trouble than anyone could have guessed. Personally, I received eight crisis calls this past week. Dear friends. Different dear friends calling with a dire SOS. No, the world does not stop turning. But in the midst of the mess and sadness and trial and grief and difficulty, the world is blooming; reminding us all of what is most true. I forget. We all forget. But may the seasonal grace given to us in the beauty of a summer thunderstorm and the flight of an emerald hummingbird serve to remind us that we are not alone. That we are LOVED. That Jesus has made every provision for us. That he is indeed reaching to each one of us with his mercy and grace and strength and being more than enough for every part of us at every turn and moment of our lives. That Jesus is present so there is beauty and life and love and joy in the moment. And immeasurably more – coming. Yesterday I had the supreme pleasure of brushing my friend’s little girl’s long blonde hair. I took my time and she let me. While brushing, the song “I Am” by Jill Phillips began to play over the stereo – a personal favorite of mine. I began to sing as I brushed: Oh gently lay your head Upon my chest And I will comfort you as a mother While you rest….. For I am constant I am near I am peace that comforts All your secret fears… A song about the mothering heart of God. Offering rest, grace, understanding and mercy. As I sang, I flashed to the memory of singing this very song to my friend at her baby shower as we celebrated this coming daughter. Now six years later, I am singing it to her little girl. I realized I had stumbled into a holy moment. The veil became thin as I breathed in the presence of eternity. The presence of Love. May this summer hold for you and I and ours many moments of beauty and rest and joy. May the eternal break into all of our mundane. May we all grow in recognizing the beauty and the presence and the power of Jesus in the midst of our lives while they shower us with fragrant blooms or, as they will, with difficulties. And may you take every opportunity to lay your head upon his chest and allow God to comfort you like a mother while you rest. Happy Summer. Happy Summer indeed!
Stasi Eldredge
Glorious Ruins
Okay… some of my recent time with a sage/guide/counselor was focused on my being an “unfinished” man. One might think that little time need be spent on that topic at all. But alas, it was needed! While God has romanced me since birth, and I have chosen to follow him for 37 years… there is still much more for me to experience of God’s transforming and gracious fathering heart. There always will be. I can point to significant healing/change/growth over the decades yet I there are times, people and circumstances, in which I, still, do not live, love or relate as I want (Romans chapter 7). “Still crazy after all these years” – Paul Simon There is a grace, and a freedom in recognizing that in this life, Act III of The Larger Story, we will always be “unfinished”… in need desperate need of God, humble, able to embrace and offer forgiveness. I shouldn’t have been surprised that my wonderful counselor saw a part of my soul that was closed to God and others, detached and self-protective… but I was! While that is all true a more important reality I was reminded of is that I, like you, am also a glorious image bearer who was wonderfully crafted in the womb by God for a unique and mythic role in this grand story of the Kingdom of God invading planet earth with the Good News of deliverance, freedom, restoration, life, hope and joy! I regularly forget this! It’s actually amazing that God chooses to use “unfinished” man to accomplish his redemptive rescue of others! You’d think he’d wait for our perfection, for our being “finished”, a little further along in our sanctification prior to using us in significant ways wouldn’t you? After all, it’s to everyone’s benefit that I’m a little holier, more loving, more “present”, stronger and wiser isn’t it? Picture God’s “Army” hitting the beaches and the front of the landing craft opens to spill the invading force upon the enemy. It’s not a squadron of well armed finely tuned special forces that storm the enemies pill boxes… its more like Ms. Evan’s third grade class wandering ashore, it’s a guy in a Hawaiian shirt with a book and his beach chair strolling off, two guys wearing uniforms but missing their guns, its a slick dude in a business suit and a gal carrying a big Bloomingdales bag followed by an overweight middle aged guy from Pittsburgh with stains on his shirt finishing off his little carton of Kung Pau Chicken. You’re in shock, “That’s God’s invasion force? Those are the ones he’s entrusted his rescue of mankind to?” Yep!!!!!!! That’s the Army he’s chosen… and we're a part of it. God has chosen the weak, the unfinished, and the not-quite-all-together to bring the Kingdom. Amazing! We’re unfinished and we’re a part of this grand mission. AND IT WORKS… It’s always been that way… Remember Moses (Exodus 3) God sees the misery/oppression of his people and taps Moses on the shoulder while he’s in attending to the routines of life (tending the flock) and calls him to be the deliverer of God’s people from the Super-Power of the day. Moses, knowing he’s not quite the “deliverer” type responds, “Who me? Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”… to which God responds, “I will be with you”. Very few of us would evaluate ourselves as being up for the task/role God has for us. Then Gideon (Judges 6) is scared to death and hiding in the hills from the dreaded enemies of the day and God shows up and addresses him as “Mighty Warrior”???? – and assigns him the task of setting the people free from oppression. Gideon, like us, is skeptical that God could really have such a role for him. He’s unfinished… yet God chooses him! What has he chosen you for? What name has he called you that, perhaps, at the moment, seems absurd? There’s David (1Samuel 16) the runt of the family being chosen over his seven older, “more suited” brothers to be king of Israel. Solomon – (1Kings 3) confronted with the task of being king cries out to God, “I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties”. He’s unfinished man who is about to be a king! Jeremiah as well (Jeremiah 1) responds to God’s call saying, “I do not know how to speak; I am only a child…". Unfinished! The Minor Theme is we’re unfinished, a ruin, a wreck… I let people down, detach, hide, withhold friendship/relationship, get distracted…. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I have hurt people by the way I've lived... I wish I was much different... and I am different than I was a year ago... "Oh God come for me, continue to restore and transform me!". AND The Major Theme is that, you and me are key players, glorious beings God is using to bring life, salvation, deliverance to others. We are changing the world! I needed a sage to remind me of that. - Craig McConnell
CM
Craig McConnell
Bills Schmills
I realized something today. It was after I stopped moving the three envelopes around on the counter and opened them and in a moment of rare swift decision, paid the three bills. Wow. Just like that. Took care of them. I was on a role, feeling quite good about myself so bboldly, I went to my bill pile (hidden in the laundry room in a decorative bread basket) and emptied the pile on top of the washing machine. Man! What is it with these things? I think they multiply when I turn off the lights. But today, I was not dissuaded by the sheer number of them. I picked up the top envelope, opened it and marched right to the computer and paid it on line. I even recorded it in the check register and put it in its very own file. So uncharacteristically organized of me! Amazing! But I looked again at the bill pile and realized that they all needed attention. Again. There is the utility bill, the phone bill, the cellular phone bill, several mystery medical bills...I just paid them last month and here they are again clamoring for attention. Unsatisfied. They want more. Why is it never enough with these, these, these invasions to my life? I know. It's time to reveal my realization. The way I feel about bills goes way beyond irritation and anxiety. The truth is, I am personally offended by them. They make me feel like I am not doing enough. I am failing. I am affronted by them! Yes, little phone bill, I spent a lot of time with you just recently and what, you're back?! You want some more from me? I'm not doing enough? Why do you keep coming? Leave me alone! Two months ago our phone was turned off. Woops. I was really, really late in retrieving the pile from the bread basket. These guys are relentless. Yah, they sent the colored bills. Yes, I got the phone message. But I deleted it without really listening to it. I did pay attention when I didn't get a dial tone. Used my cell to call home and got the "temporarily disconnected" message. Then I hustled to retrieve and open and thank you Jesus that I could, pay the bill. The thing is, they are not an insult. Getting a bill in the mail is not the same thing as a nasty letter sent home from a teacher to my parents tattling on me. They are just an annoying part of life. I like switching on the light in my room. I'm tying by it now. Shoot - I'm typing...plugged in at this very moment. Little marvelous conveniences that I take for granted and every single month of the year have to pay for. And they are not a sentence on my life either. When I can pay them and when I can't. When I'm on time and when I'm late. They are just bills. And man, is there a big ole huge pile of them on my washing machine right now. Multiplying I'm sure, at this very moment. But they lost some of their power today. Power I didn't even know I had given them. Because over the silent demand of "pay me now" came the Holy Spirit with his fabulous perception and truth and remembrance; revealing once again where my identity lies and who has the power to tell me who I am and how I'm doing. And that all is well. All manner of things are well. Pile or no pile.
Stasi Eldredge
A Guide
I am amazed at the invitations of God to find Him anew in some profound and deep way again and again over the years. Long and true are the stories of victory, healing, growth and intimacies with God we each have and share, yet, we are always unfinished, in need of more, thirsting and longing for another story of His work in our soul. I am a different man than I was thirty years ago, twenty years ago, ten years ago… two years ago - and I hope to be much further along in my holiness/communion in the years ahead. Much, much further. These last weeks, actually 2 months, have been memorably disruptive as God has pointed out a barren place he wants to inhabit. It’s seems premature to draw clear lessons from what’s unfolding, yet I had to begin to speak about it and in doing so hope that more clarity would come. Recently I spent some time with a gifted sage who shared all he saw in seeing me. He saw things about me I couldn’t believe, both glorious and marred. With unique gifting and skill he confronted and called out things in my heart, soul and relational style that some have seen and felt but haven’t put words to. Both glorious and marred I’d be embarrassed and ashamed, at the moment, to share some of what he saw. We are… I am both a trophy of grace and a man so in need of more grace Much of our time was spent on my relational style… my heart and desires are good... but in significant ways, my heart is not seen or felt... not present to some. It was disorienting to find that in some ways I don’t see clearly. I do more so now… but, as it is when you get that first pair of glasses, I’m a little dizzy. I’m so grateful for my sage and his eyes. He sees what I can’t and is courageous enough to share a bit of what he sees in seeing me A couple of weeks ago a John and I went fishing on the Green River in Utah. With a guide we floated the river and had a phenomenal time fly fishing. The Guide knows this river having fished it most days of the year…for years and years. I think he knows every fish we caught; he certainly knew where they hang out! In any case, though he and Iwere wearing similar sunglasses, and looking at the same stretch of water he saw trout I didn’t. He’d point to a seam in the stream 20 feet away and say, “Craig, cast to those 5 big browns in the far side of that seam 10 feet from the pyramid shaped rock”. I see the rock, I see the seam, but I don’t see the fish. Time and time again throughout the trip he kept observing, pointing out and enjoying the vast number of fish lurking in the eddies and currents of the Green. I rarely saw what he did. I kept telling him, “You see trout that I don’t!” We need guides. Guides who see things we don’t. A strong, loving, kind sage that delivers God’s invitation to the more God has for us in the deepest parts of our soul. The invitation to life.
CM
Craig McConnell
A Thank You to Life Givers
The Pastor's Wifeby Sabina Wurmbrand: (speaking of time in a Romanian prison camp) "So we argued the night away. The prisoners murmured and grimaced in their sleep. Names were muttered, or cried aloud; of children, fathers, lovers, friends. But most often, the word 'Mother!' Age and class had lost all meaning as they dreamt, and the soul in distress whispered from its depths the old cry. It went deeper than a simple appeal to one's own parent. It was a cry for the eternal female tenderness and motherly care which exists for us in heaven." Happy Mother's Day all. This is a shout out to women everywhere. All of you! Being a mother is a glorious, amazing, exhausting thing. A great gift. And though not all women are mothers, ALL women are life givers. Really. The look in your eye. The thoughtful remark. The kind gesture. The fierce strength on behalf of others. The heart you carry. It all brings LIFE. Life to a needy soul and a weary world. Life to ministries, creative works, businesses, missions, relationships, and people. Every woman is an image bearer of our Life Giving God. I have benefited so much and so many times from the gentle and strong offerings of life from women. I just returned from the grocery store and while there ran into a neighbor from eight years ago. Such a pleasure to catch up...so happy. She brought me delight! Such a simple thing. Got home to a phone call from a woman friend who's poor health and handicaps keep her shut in for most of her hours. She's in pain but offers me and others mercy. Love. Encouragement to be aware and grateful for each moment of our lives. Two life givers in twenty minutes! Hooray! My mother was a life giver. Oh, I wish I had had the eyes to see and the heart to appreciate all that she did and spent on and for me while she was still alive. I lay in bed last night just remembering - and thanking God - and looking forward to the day that is coming when I will look her in the eyes again and be able to truly say, "Thank you, Mom". I ramble. But I ramble with a grateful heart. Bless you women of God. May you know his pleasure and delight for the myriad and countless ways you are bringing HIM to others. They may not thank you. Not yet. But God sees. And on behalf of him and the ones in your life, thank you. Happy Mother's Day.
Stasi Eldredge
The Hardest Thing to Face
One of my favorite movies is an old Robert Duvall picture called Tender Mercies. Great story of an alcoholic country western star who hits bottom hard, finds Christ and a woman who loves him, gets his life back together. Anyhow, the theme song of the film has stayed with me for years. The central line being, "The hardest thing...for me to face...Reality." Ain't it the truth? Which got me to thinking about TS Eliot's line, "Humankind cannot stand very much reality." You know how this works. Are you still praying for Haiti? What do you even remember about 9-11? You watch a film about starving children and everything in you intends to help but three weeks later it's gone. There are things about your own life you get a glimpse of - something in your thought life you'd better get a hold of, something in your marriage you'd better face, something about your health or your finances - and three days pass and it's gone. The hardest thing, for us to face, Reality. It's the old trying to find our way back into Eden thing. We just want life to be good. This RULES us. (You are aware, aren't you, of how much this rules you???) We avoid the disturbing or demanding parts of reality as a matter of daily practice. We just want life to be good. Which got me thinking about Elie Wiesel's book, "Night." It is his harrowing personal account as a Jew in eastern Europe when the Nazi's came in, and eventually sent him to concentration camp. Early in the book Wiesel describes how the Jews reacted to the encroaching Nazi threat. First, windows of Jewish businesses would be broken. "This will pass," they said. Jews were thrown out of business. "This will pass," they said. Jews were bullied and beaten. Forced to wear the yellow star. "This will pass," they said. Jews were rounded up and confined in a locked "ghetto" part of town. "This will pass." Jews were taken away, and when one escaped and returned to tell what he saw, about their brutal execution in the forest, I kid you not, the Jews said, "This will pass." They just refused to face reality. The first time I read this I thought, "Impossible! How could this happen? How could they be so naive??!" It's a good thing we don't let this happen. Especially not with spiritual warfare. We face that head on, and deal with it, daily. Or do we?
John Eldredge
Free Copies of Love and War
Let's change the world. I mean it. Let's change the world. This thing we do over here called Wild at Heart has basically one mission: rescue hearts, and thus rescue lives, and thus bring the Kingdom of God, and thus change the world. Okay, maybe thats four things, but its really all one. And the way it happens is one life to another. We don't have a big TV show or huge ministry platform or whatever. This beautiful movement happens by word of mouth. Here's where you come in. We wrote this wonderful book called Love and War, and the folks who are reading it are loving it. But very few people know about the book for some weird reason. We need help to get the word out. So, we're going to give a free copy of Love and War to our friends like you who blog, asking that you blog about the book. That way, we spread the word in the best way possible, by one heart to another. By word of mouth. If you have a blog, and you'd be willing to write about Love and War, we'd love to send you a copy. If you already have a copy, but want to blog about it, we'll send you another copy anyways, and you can pass it along to a friend. All you need to do is click here: https://wildatheart.org/blogsignup.aspx We'd also love it if you'd write a review on Amazon as part of this effort to get the word out http://snipurl.com/lwamazon By spreading the word, you rescue hearts, lives, marriages...you change the world. How cool is that?
John Eldredge
Calling all Bloggers!
Hi friends, Wanted to let you know that our ministry would love to have our faithful allies out there who blog take a few minutes and write a blog and an amazon.com review on Love and War. Also, we are giving away a FREE copy of Love and War to the first 500 bloggers to respond! If you have interest in receiving a free copy of Love and War, click here! Some of you have already blogged on it and I want to say THANK YOU! We want to get the word out so marriages can be strengthened and encouraged and become all God and we want them to! Oh, this is a good journey to be on. So, happy blogging!
Stasi Eldredge
"Love & War"
There is so much to say about the last month yet everytime I sit down to scribble out some thoughts I get "Writers block", "Brian freeze"... a mental-spiritual-word paralysis. God's doing some pretty disruptive stuff and, seemingly, not allowed me to write about it. I hope to soon I'd appreciate your prayers in so many ways. Thank you. I did wanted to tip you off to an offer Wild at Heart is making. God is doing some incredible things in marriages through John and Stasi's new book, Love and War.... and to get the "word" out we're giving away a free copy of Love and War to the first 500 bloggers to respond. We would love to have our blogging allies take a few minutes and write a blog on amazon.com review on Love and War. If you have interest in receiving a free copy of Love and War, click here! Click away. - Craig
CM
Craig McConnell
Ageless
In a nearby neighborhood, hidden around the corner of the Walgreens and tucked in behind the Methodist church are stables for boarding horses. I had lived here for fifteen years before knowing they existed. The stables are old, worn and border the last working cattle ranch inside the city limits of Colorado Springs. We board two horses there – Kokolo (a beautiful paint) and Whistle (a gorgeous bay). John grew up spending summers on his grandfather’s ranch and having horses of his own was a lifelong dream. Our middle son Blaine, entered the world with a love of horses, drawing them repeatedly ever since he could hold a crayon and saving every bit of money earned or given to him since he was five years old to buy one of his own. Whistle is John’s horse. Kokolo is Blaine’s. But as goes the way of the world and schedules and growing up and life, the #1 caregiver of these horses is yours truly. What God has taught me and done in my heart over these last six years with and through horses is the stuff of Heaven. I will not write of those deep matters now. But of this… Last week, I was bringing Kokolo in from the field when I saw on the other end of the stables a young child. The child looked about eight years old and was standing on a log watching me, then moved over to look out at a horse in an adjacent field. After putting Kokolo in his stall, I walked around to where the child was and saw only another woman, older than myself, standing at the gate, gazing out at her horse grazing. We greeted each other and then I asked, “Is there a child with you?” I looked around, seeing and hearing no one else. “I saw a little person over here.” She said, “No. There’s no one else here.” Oh! I was confused. What? “Well, I guess you are the little person!” She commented it that it had been quite a while since she had been called that. I went into the tack room to get grain and oats for the horses. The room is dark and smells of hay, leather and feed. Everything is covered with a thick layer of dirt. I adore it. Suddenly, the woman is in the room with me. There is an eagerness about her. She’s followed me in there to talk. Well, this is new, I think. She asks me about church and where I go and tells me where she goes then confesses that recently she was telling God she didn’t think she could do it anymore. I ask, do what? Church? Or life? Life she said. I nod. Say I understand. Then, she begins to tell me of meeting a man through a friend. A Christian man. A man slightly older than herself. A single man. A potentially good man. Husband material. Ah ha! A light comes into her eyes and there is the little person. She isn’t 64 years old. She is 8. Or 16. She is hope reborn. She is the possibility of being loved and loving. She is beautiful. She could have done spinning twirls in the field and I would have joined her. She is giddy and makes me giddy. I shout my prayers on her behalf up to the clouds and we laugh. I know beauty is ageless. I know that though our outer man is decaying our inner man is being renewed day by day. I know God has set eternity in our hearts. I know that nothing makes a woman blossom like love. I just forgot. We are forever young. It was a joyous thing to remember.
Stasi Eldredge
The Everlasting Stream
A few years ago Morgan gave the guys on the team a book called The Everlasting Stream. It sounds like a devotional, but its not, not even a Christian book. Its a book about a big city guy whose life is utterly transformed by spending time with his rural father-in-law, hunting rabbits in Kentucky with the men he has been hanging out with for more than fifty years. Its become an in-house favorite here because its description of masculine culture is so good, and so dang funny. Anyhow, last weekend I dropped into a version of the everlasting stream. I was out in Grand Junction, picking up an old Volkswagen Thing that Luke and I are going to fix up as his first car. I found the Thing on Craig's list, and was looking forward to meeting the guy selling it. He turned out to be about 70 years old, living on the rural side of town, his 5 acres covered in old tractors and stuff. As we sat inside his small farmhouse, drinking day old coffee, I found myself really enjoying this old man. Soon his two buddies showed up, and I got the idea that this is what they do every Saturday morning. Picture guys in their 70's, sitting around chain smoking Pall Malls in a single-wide. Dean is the character selling the car. Billy is his cousin. Kirby is a bit younger; I get the impression he's sort of looking after these old guys. Its right out of Second Hand Lions. Billy (to me) "You ain't drinkin his coffee are you? That's yesterday's coffee!" I look at Dean, and he sort of smiles and shrugs, "Yep...it is." This stuff is inky black and strong; it would strip grease off an engine. He has a massive urn of it. I get the impression its what they drink all day long. "So Dean," I ask, "what do you do with all these parts?" "O, I sorta fix tractors up and sell 'em." I already love this man. 70 something and his hobby is fixing tractors and selling them?! I also feel like a weenie. I hope they don't ask me what I do for a living. "O...I help people connect with their inner child." Billy "Hey, I brought you some donuts." He puts a greasy brown lunch bag on the counter. I sense this is all ritual; it has happened just this way for years. Dean "Don't look like you brought many." Billy "There's a half a dozen in there." Dean looks at the small lunchsack "Must be mighty small donuts." Billy "Their CAKE donuts, you twit." On and on it goes. I thought I'd just grab the car and blast the 5 hour drive home, but I am enjoying these old characters so much I have to linger. Billy still uses Dippity Do in his grey hair; it is swept back in a nice wave. He too is chain smoking Pall Malls. But he is also using an asthma inhaler. So, once in awhile he'll take a shot of the inhaler, put it back in his pocket, and take a deep draw on his cigarette. This whole scene is out of a movie. Kirby "You know why he has me come over, don't ya?" Looking at Dean, he continues, "cause he don't read or write. I gotta help him know where to sign the title and count the money." I have never to my knowledge met anyone who doesnt read or write. Dean just sort of shrugs his shoulders. Billy "Hey, I brought you some hydraulic fluid." I'm thinking, when is the last time I heard somebody say, "I brought you some hydraulic fluid " in a conversation, like you'd say, "Hey, I brought you a Starbucks." I am loving this. Then Kirby gets upset "What?!! I brought you some hydraulic fluid! What are you doin with all this fluid?" Dean sorta shrugs his shoulders again and sheepishly says, "My tractors leak a bit." I'm crackin up. This is the culture I spent summers in as a boy, sitting around old farm house kitchens with grey haired men from another time, another world. A world that is very attractive. They are sort of awkward in their affection for one another. But then we step outside and need to get the car out of the old barn and hook it up to a tow bar on my truck and suddenly these men are spry and nimble; they handle tools with grace and ease. They jerry-rig the whole thing so fast I just stand back and enjoy. It is a beautiful world of men that more of us could use in our own lives.
John Eldredge
Easter
Okay… I’m at Gourmet Cabby Internet Café in Breckenridge. Checked the emails, a mug of Sumatra next to me - it’s snowing, cold… breezy. I’m leaning back in el cheapo swivel desk chair… Tomorrow is Easter Sunday… inhale, exhale. Lord, shift my heart to Easter. No sooner do I say “resurrection” under my breath and I’m in tears. There is no order or sequence to these vignettes, my guess is that combined they are but a glimpse of that instant moment in time when there is no more time… in the twinkling of an eye… when I will be raised/changed. I will be on my face in tears or adoration… no, I think I’ll be on my feet with arms victoriously thrust up with my heart bursting in praise … or maybe just still… finally still and silent… I could see myself thrown into His arms, silent, in tears, finding the words that have been groanings all my life. There is so much to say here… I will see my father, Al McConnell for the very first time… there is nothing more I can say in this moment here. I will to see my mom… free from grief/pain. Lori and I will gaze into one another’s eyes like never before… our daughters, their husbands, their children and their children will be on some dance floor that’s like a jeweled sea - dancing, dancing, dancing in some ever growing family circle laughing as we wobble all over dong some kind of previously-unknown-heavenly folk dance that has us all holding shoulders, kicking up our feet, singing in Hebrew, with colorful hats, shimmering garments… Lori and I will wander through some crowded banquet hall of heaven with a never empty glasses filled with the finest wine. Strolling about I bump into Nanny & Pop, Grandparents McConnell, old friends, old knuckleheads, I’ll listen in to a conversation between Elijah and Habakkuk, war heroes and I will swap stories, and sitting around heavens campfires will be “nobodies” and “some bodies” from every era, age and continent… Okay… it’s at this point that my writing cannot keep up with my heart and mind’s kaleidoscopic impressions. I’m flooded with emotions, pictures, images, passages, quotes, faces, stories … 20 minutes pass. I cannot describe all my heart yearns for at the mention of “Resurrection”. That day is coming… we’ll celebrate it tomorrow… actually… let the celebration begin. He is risen! - Craig McConnell
CM
Craig McConnell