Articles & Posts
Jeri
We get letters… emails… notes, all kinds of things actually from people God has romanced, healed, delivered… rescued or resurrected to life. Given our propensity for spiritual amnesia we need stories of God. Jeri sent in a bit of her story that I personally found encouraging... and a needed reminder of God. Since last October nearly everything in my life has changed. I need to back up farther than that to reveal what a change it has been. My husband and I married in 2004 and separated in 2005. He moved out and across town, and I fell apart. My faith has always been there, but very "churchy". We recently moved to a new city, I had no friends, and a new career in a profession that rarely allows me to have anything beyond professional relationships with others. Through a variety of twists and turns I found myself in a church and involved in a "girls group" that was filled with other young professional women trying to figure out what this life is about. The very next week after I started this group we began reading Captivating. I was rocked. God carried me. Walked with me. Showed me so many things I thought I had all figured out. One of the girls in the 15-20 women group mentioned that there was a retreat coming up. I flippantly said sure, I will go if someone else will go. The 5 most amazing women "got-in". Honestly, before the trip we new each other, but would never have hung out beyond our monday night meetings. The day we left all of us arrived at the airport worn out, battled, and barely able to remember why we were going out of town. We had one girl with no wallet, sick kids at home with grandparents, forgotten makeup, wars with loved ones, a house that desperately needed to sell being shown dirty, and frazzled spirits. We were a wreck. I laugh now, but then tears were brimming. Needless to say, our rainbow weekend in CO changed our lives, and formed a bond between the five of us that will last a lifetime. While in Colorado I was desperately trying to come to grips with my pending divorce and Gods direction for me. He showed me some amazing things. First, He will always be with me, no matter the road I choose, I will find "His Will" in seeking him. Second, He gave me a name and a song. I laid in that bunk all night being romanced by a man that wowed me, and wouldn't abandon me ever. I got up Sunday morning and ran down to the "book store" after spending the weekend telling God, " I am not buying him that book, I have given him books before, he doesn't read them, I get hurt... forget it"; I bought the book. I had no idea how I was supposed to walk up to my EX and hand him a book, and tell him, "God told me to give this to you." I kept thinking how hoakie that sounds. In February he attended Boot Camp. The courts actually lost our divorce papers, and by the time he came home and we could sign them again and re-submit them, we both had a change of heart...:) Since then, we found a counselor who is grounded in your teachings and he is helping us get our questions answered the right way. It is so wonderful now. I can't even begin to explain the joy we have. My husband calls it his band of brothers... but has started a guys group with the men who are in relationship with my captivating girls. God is building a community all around us. We are so thankful. Thank you for what you do. God is using you in so many ways. I wish I could somehow show you what your ministry is doing in the lives of so many people around us. It is astounding. Again, thank you. – Jeri
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Craig McConnell
On Vacation
We are resting on the north shore of Kauai, drinking in beauty and quiet. Sun and rain and ocean. It’s a pastel world, soft clouds, soft sea, soft sky. It feels like a sort of de-tox. From the matrix we all take for granted. But don’t really notice its effect. Until we get away, and suddenly realize how overdue some rest is. Our family reads a ton when we are on vacation. Stasi, the boys, all of us. We read most of the day, lingering in the shade. Last year I made the mistake of bringing the wrong books. War books, mostly, military history, including An Army at Dawn, about the early days of the United States Army in north Africa during WWII. It was a mistake because the last thing I needed to be reading about was war; I live at war, most every day, and the point of vacation is to get away from the front and the almost constant emotional vigilance it requires. Anyhow, I dropped the reading a couple days in because it felt too much like my life. But didn’t have any other books to take up. This year I learned my lesson. Brought Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, read it in a day and a half, and loved it. (Now Blaine’s reading it). Moved on to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, which brought me back to my old love of Shakespeare. And such a delightful and redemptive story it is. None of the darkness of Macbeth, none of the battle of Henry V. Interestingly (I only realized this today) they both take place on an island. And now that I think more about it, both stories turn on acts of mercy. Wow. God was just talking to me today about his mercy. And here I thought I just “chose” those books. Sweet. Okay, that's about all I have for now. Hope you are well. Make sure you get some R&R this summer.
John Eldredge
Stumbling Toward Ecstasy
Memorial Day 2008. Several of the Wild at Heart Staff annually run the Bolder- Boulder 10K. It’s a huge rite of Spring where 53,000 people and 26 Elvis’s run through the streets of Boulder Colorado. This was my inaugural. Julie J. a Boulder native and Sue an Ohio import led the blitz… gazelles in motion, fluid poetry. Following them was my Lovely…Lori; sporting the new Lululemon line; a natural beauty firing on all cylinders. Soon thereafter, the always fleet of foot, the unfatigue-able and graceful one: Polly. At a notably reduced pace from previous years were long time runners Julie & PJ… (one of my life long memories will be of Julie in her seventh month of pregnancy, the most pregnant of the 53,026 tapping into her well stored reserves to “sprint” the final 75 yards into University of Colorado’s football stadium… with PJ, the Team’s designated Sherpa carrying sundry sweat shirts, change of clothes, sunglasses, a beach chair, half a carnitas burrito and a block of ice at her side). Rounding out Team Wild at Heart were some dear friends and family and of course… me; just a guy out for a run. So… as I’m “running” I’m taking in all the regalia… the bands playing along the way (some of which were good and some not-so-good); one half-of-a-mile into the race there’s a wannabe comedian on the corner with a mega-phone cracking jokes that we’re “Almost there”; on the next corner were the unabashed belly dancers. Spider man passes me and I pass a guy in a cheap suit with an accordion. There’s a banana, a pine apple and a couple of M&M’s running. There are sombrero’s, short shorts, glitter, somebody’s favorite funky uncle… active duty soldiers. There was every shade of body paint, every age size and dimension, someone wearing a Nixon mask. The frat houses are hosing down runners; families cheering us on and offering free cookies. A woman twice my age passes me wearing a bridal dress…; the volunteers handing out Gatorade/water and doing traffic control…., a Hulk Hogan type, a few scoundrels, 16,000 hard-bodied fit runners, six gladiators, five Uncle Sam’s, four rainbow wigs, three frogs a hoping and a colonel Sanders in a pine tree. I pass a nut in a Steelers outfit (it wasn’t Morgan), a stoner on a unicycle playing a kazoo zips by… and everyone’s favorite, Big Bird,is running backwards… and did I say ever age size and dimension? So many different stories in motion. I couldn't’t help but wonder what is every one running from or to? I found myself laughing, crying, at times disturbed and mostly trying to remember the deep breathing techniques I coached Lori with at our first child’s birth 29 years ago. We all finished the 6.2 mile course, quickly downed the legal limit of Advil with our complimentary Power Bar, Potato chips and vitamin water and then hung out together watching others cross the finish line. We swapped stories and purely enjoyed one another and the ecstasy of finishing well. It was one of those moments. A moment you wish you had more of, a, as my French friends say, Jae ne sais quoi… that elusive quality… an unspeakable time of community, life, freedom, grace, joy… we are people who work together well and were now having fun with one another… together. I wasn’t expecting what happened next… the organizers squeezed a ceremony between the 10 K the masses run and the 10 k a few elite athletes run. In the middle of the stadium was a platform and podium… a politician/big-shot welcomes us and introduces a Medal of Honor recipient from the Vietnam War, Major-General Patrick Brady, to a standing ovation. With the crowd on its feet the Thunder-birds fly over, we sing the National Anthem and General Brady shares reflections about the supreme sacrifice that so many have made for our freedom… and I’m in tears… it’s all fresh again… my father’s death in combat, his loss, my loss… how I wish I knew him… how very much he, my mom and I missed out on...how I look forward to being with him… his life.. a Larger Story… courage… life… my God and Father… hope, heaven… and a governing desire: I want to live, heroically, to live well. I am frequently without words for all that’s swirling about within me… but in that moment I loved God, others… life… and want so much more… another all to small of a taste of the Eden we were designed for. - Craig
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Craig McConnell
Car Trouble
Monday night I’m driving down the road and suddenly my transmission just goes out. I pull over (thankfully, I was on a back road) and put it in park, waited a second, put it back in drive, and off we go. I think, “Whew. Far out. Don’t know what that was, but glad it’s over.” About half a mile down the road it does it again. The usual sequence of “car trouble” thoughts and emotions begins to run, like this: “What the…?! O no. Doggone it” (this is the G version). Long deep sigh. Try a simple solution. That doesn’t work. Deeper sigh. Battle sweeping resignation, that whole “Why does life have to be so hard?” thing. Finally, I land on, “What am I going to do now?” What made the trouble move from hassle to crisis was, I was four hours from home. What do I do now? I put it in reverse, and drove back up the road to the neighbors. Asked if they had any transmission fluid. I’m hoping it’s a fluid issue. The fluid does register low, so I pour some in and limp back to the ranch. Call a local mechanic (he’s an hour away). He can’t even look at it for a week. Now I’m faced with the dilemma of, “Do I stay here for a week, stranded, or do I try and drive it home and risk a total meltdown on the way, stranding me even further?” I begin to pray, to try and hear from God what I should do. But the drama of the crisis (“O no, I can’t be stuck here a week! And what if the repairs take even longer?! What am I going to do??!!”) is making it hard to hear from God. I find that’s almost always true – I find it really hard to hear from God when I am in high drama. I try and calm down. Take a walk. I still can’t hear. At this point, I know pushing into hearing from God isn’t going to be helpful, so I do a little work around the place, let an hour or so go by. Settle down. I ask again, “Lord – what should I do? Stay? Try and make it home? What are you saying?” Part of what’s making it hard to hear is the fact that getting stuck here for a week is actually beginning to sound good to me. I get to skip out on life for a week. But the more responsible part of me knows this isn’t the time to cave in, and so I am trying to hear whatever it is God wants to say, and not just “go” with my growing desire to bail on life for a week with a beautiful excuse. I hear God say, “You’ll make it home.” I said, “Really? Really? Lord, is this you?” “You’ll make it home.” So, I risked it. Drove gently, didn’t push the transmission hard up the mountain passes, stopped halfway to check the fluid, and made it home. And I think to myself, “What was life like before I knew about hearing from God? I think I just navigated by trying to make good choices.” This is a much better life. God knows, by the way, and it really helps to ask.
John Eldredge
New Kid in Town
There's a new kid in town... Alex is new to the Wild at Heart team working with us on events. Do you remember your first few days at a new job? What went through your mind, filled your heart? What were those first impressions of those you were now working with; those you'll be sitting next to at office Christmas party; having lunch with? Didn't you wonder who in the sea of new faces you'd connect with/enjoy... who would be the pain-in-the-butt; who you'd confide in or avoid at all costs? Who's the Christian, the clown, sour puss, self absorbed talker, sage? Those first impressions are so often right... and oh how they linger! I wonder what he's thinking as he leaves our Outpost these first days? As Alex sizes us up, so we have our first impressions as well. Here's mine of Alex: Good choice! Thank you Christ! Immediately likable; vulnerable... he's jumping all in; he's a strong man with a large heart... for God and others. He strikes me as thoughtful; he's present/engaged; a guy I'd enjoy driving across Kansas with. He's skilled, has lived a good bit of life; the word "integrity" seems to fit. Alex has a sense of humor that will find freer expression once the 90 day probationary period ends. He's solid, wears funky shoes... sports a scabrous goatee. His office is looped with pictures of the wild (the Maroon Bells, streams and radical looking cliffs are prominent). Close to his desk are the tender photos of his bride and little ones. There's a botta bag, a ceramic grizzly and a bottle of some kinda Polish elixir... a couple of arrows on the window sill. There's a stapler, a full trash can and a few premature stacks of papers (clearly an attempt to look busier than any newbie ever is). You can tell Alex is a good man... a man with a story we'll look forward to hearing. A man we're grateful to have with us as we write the story of Wild at Heart. I hope you get to meet Alex... he's the one with the capacious goatee. - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Teeth Cleaning
“What is shame? Shame is, quite simply, the feeling that there is something wrong with you. In more extreme cases, it is the feeling that there is something TERRIBLY, IRREVOCABLY, DEEPLY, FUNDAMENTALLY, wrong with you…Anyone who likes you or sees value in you just isn't looking closely enough to really see the "real" you.” – Bill Harris Self contempt, shame, condemnation have been companions of mine for much too long. They' always seem to be lurking about... hounding me in some of the most innocuous affairs of everyday living… like having my teeth cleaned at the Dentist office. (A journal entry I recently read from a couple of years ago) Okay, so it’s been 2 years… rounded off (actually, as the dental tech refers to my records she corrects me stating that it has actually been 2 years 4 months) since my last cleaning. She’s a great dental tech, always chipper, warm, very enjoyable and relational. So we quickly get caught up on our lives as I semi recline into the chair and get my bib fitted. The small talk masks the anxiety of The vulnerable moment approaching… that moment when I have to… open my mouth. You know… you open your mouth and then there’s the pregnant silence of waiting for her reaction/analysis of your mouth/character/life. It’s never just about your teeth… it’s about you as a person. There you lay, mouth open, exposed. She’ll know everything about you… somehow my oral history speaks volumes about me… procrastinator, irresponsible, sloth, pig-mouth… pig-man, a sure and certain toothless wonder in about 5 years… … and so it’s That Moment… it’s silent beyond the comfort level, way beyond the comfort level. She’s doing the preliminary scaling with plaque-clods flying out of my mouth. “Ummm… you’ve got a rain forest in here” I’m immediately picturing my mouth as a Petri bowl brimming with every know periodontal bacteria, mutans and flora and several unnamed/new opportunistic strains.* Despite her two hands, a mirror and scraper filling my mouth I break the silence with a muttered guttural ”thaaaat baaada ehhhh?” To which she adds the final nail, “yeah you’ve got barnacles hanging here.” I’m a failure as a man. He who is faithful in little will be given much… if I’m not faithful in flossing my freaking teeth do I really think God would entrust anything to me. CHESSECAKE!!! I’m so finished, my life’s a charade, poser, pig-mouth… pig-man. I see it. I’m fighting it. – Craig * Porphyromonas gingivalis and Actinobacillus actinomycetemcomitans, are two of the most aggressive offenders in periodontal disease, the leading cause of adult tooth loss.
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Craig McConnell
He's Back...
Well... to no ones surprise Morgan mounted his steed and sitting high in the saddle one couldn't help but think of Genghis Khan, The Lone Ranger, Teddy leading the Rough Riders... or, the Man From Snowy River... (For background see post Back In The Saddle) Our weekend north of Toronto in Muskoka with allies and men from as far away as Wisconsin was grand. Morgan shimmered; hit it out of the park; scored a knock out, hat-trick; he nailed it... God was with him! With vulnerability and insight Morgan offered out of his heart and life stirring up in the men a desire for more. It was a weekend of restoration and redemption for all of us. He's back. And it is good! Thank you for praying for us! -Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Build a Bigger Fire
I’m back home after this amazing Tour. It was beautiful, and exhausting. A marathon, and God was in it. It was demanding, and hard, but mostly it was beautiful. And filled with greater meaning. Something really important is taking place. Something really big. Several years ago I was backpacking alone in the Collegiate Peaks Wilderness in Colorado. It’s something I try and do once a year, that is, head to the high country for some time alone with God. I was camped on a high shelf in a high valley. It was June, and there were still patches of snow. The days were warm but the nights were cold. One evening after dinner I was just sitting in camp as the sun set, not really wanting to go to bed but too cold to enjoy the evening. I was sitting sort of hunched over, my arms wrapped round my legs, when God said, “Build a fire.” I don’t normally build campfires when I’m alone; usually when it gets dark I’m in my bag in the tent, reading by headlamp. But I clearly heard him say, “Build a fire.” My first thought was where am I going to get dry wood? I stood up, and turned toward a line of tall spruce trees about thirty yards behind me. Though it was a long line of trees, my eyes went immediately to one tree in particular, to the base, and there, under a canopy of boughs, was a pile of firewood. Stacked. Under the tree. Not broken or gathered, but actually cut with a saw. How, in this remote valley, in this secluded spot, under one of a hundred trees, was it possible I would find an abundance of dry wood neatly cut and stacked??!! I slowly turned around, slowly doing a 360, to look behind me, around me, fully expecting Jesus himself to be standing there, smiling. You can understand, I was blown away. I gathered some wood, and made a fire ring. But I made it small, like an Indian fire for one person, and the wood God had provided did not fit. He spoke again. “Build a bigger fire.” I pushed out the stones, made a bigger ring, stacked the wood and let ‘er blaze. I knew it was a moment filled with greater meaning. A prophetic moment, if you will. Standing each night on stage during this tour, looking out at the bright eyes and earnest faces eager to connect with God, eager to live this life he is calling us to live, eager to share it with others, I realized. Here is the bigger fire. You are the bigger fire. It’s come true.
John Eldredge
Back In The Saddle
So… “little buster”; my friend,favorite disco dancer and Wild at Heart colleague Morgan is getting back in the saddle after a hiatus of several years. He got bucked off a horse four summers ago when the two of us went to Alaska to lead a retreat for a group of collegians on a summer discipleship project. We hiked into a remote river, fished for 72 hours straight (King Salmon & Midnight Sun) hiked out and then sat in a hot unventilated sterile room and took in a session or two of Morgan teaching. Do I need to say we were spent… exhausted… wasted… fried… and so, while Morgan was sharing the deep things of his heart, mind and soul we, everyone of us, collectively fell asleep. That experience would make anyone skittish to step back into the role of public-speaker-wise-teacher-sage-Mr. Smarty pants. But it’s time. The two of us venture off today, and fly into Toronto (via the cursed O’Hare) and then drive up to a retreat center in Muskoka, Ontario. We’re throwing together some of our thoughts to describe the journey and transforming impact of walking with Christ. We haven’t done this before and therein lies the reason for this note. Please ask God to open our ears, eyes and hearts to all he would have us do and say… as we drive the 2-3 hours from the airport to the facility, as we speak Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Pray for both of us… for joy, redemption, wisdom, words, courage and grace… for our safe and on-time-without-delay flights… for God to show up big time! Oh Lord we consecrate ourselves, this time, the facility and every man attending to you and your purposes. Come Jesus, come for everyman. AND for our wives and children… May they be hidden in Christ… safe, guarded, loved. You can bet we’ll have some stories to share. Thank you - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Jesus and Pot
A quick update from Dallas. It went pretty well last night. Standing room only crowd and lots of eager and open hearts to God. How beautiful. The last part of the evening each night is Q & A. Had a first last night – a guy asked a very long and sincere (and vulnerable) question about smoking pot and what does Jesus think about that. I’m crackin up. Never had that one before. (Now you’re wondering what I said. I told him that apart from legal issues of concern, there is the whole issue the scripture speaks to when it forbids drunkenness, how we don’t want to do anything that diminishes our ability to apprehend or walk with God, to discern him clearly. In my past life, I had some first-hand knowledge on the matter, and warned him that pot really diminishes our heart and mind from God. That he would have much joy in giving it up). Anyhow, it was a delightful moment. Q & A is my favorite part of the evening. I remember reading a story years ago about Francis Schaeffer pounding the walls in his upper loft at L’Abri, where he would go to pray, and saying “I have answers! I have answers!” His passion was moved because so many people had questions, and through long searching he knew that Christianity offers real and substantive and healing answers. He wanted so badly for people to know. I feel the same way. Anyhow, I’m fighting a bad sore throat today, and weariness. Don’t want to get sick. So thank you for praying for that, for our flights, that the religious spirit be bound, that we stay close to Jesus in this. And against all dismay, and all sabotage. The Kingdom is beautiful.
John Eldredge
Do Gorillas Have Wings?
Two hours before the wedding my crying is muted by the shower I’m in. I’m a mess. It feels like two core emotions are woven together. There is gladness/joy. My daughter is marrying our close friend’s son, a young man I know, love, respect and admire (my gosh we’ve vacationed, and shared inumerable “family-fun-nights” for years!). And there is some other surging sentiment that could easily and too quickly be labeled grief/sorrow/loss. And so as the warm water begins to wane I’m processing these internal dynamics… and this is where words elude me. It feels like grief/sorrow but it isn’t really. The wedding is formalizing a very real change…a transition from my being the alpha male to whom Meagan looks for strength, protection, shelter, guidance and help to now being a beta male… I’m still her father but she’s now under his covering wing (do gorillas have wings?). I find myself asking God about this raw emotion... and not surprising... he shows up… in the shower and begins to speak in a wonderful way… Yes, there is something to grieve, a transition, a change, a shift to note and feel… but much, most of what I’m feeling is desire. Longing. A yearning for more of this. “This” being the joy and celebration of two close families becoming family. “This” being the intimacy we have and share, the passion, life, love, covenant, commitment, the communion of friends and close ones… the extreme happiness of all that awaits my daughter and Jared. It’s the beauty of the location, the friendships, good music, palm trees and huge deep pool, the smell of the flowers, God’s presence in all of it… it’s food, seeing all these kids who grew up with ours and are now healthy functioning adults, it’s about parenting well and celebrating, it’s about a beautiful wife… playful granddaughters, being in shorts and flip flops… it’s about a life I was meant to enjoy but only get tastes of here and there. Joy and yearning woven together in a now cold shower. And so… I'm about to walk her down the aisle. I'm standing at the head of the aisle holding her hand. She's shaking; she adjusts her arm in my hand, “Dad, can you believe this is happening?” Behind her veil, her eyes moist, look to me… and I see her at three when frightened, I see her at six taking her to school for the first time, I see her on the couch cuddling with me during a scary scene in a movie, we're back at South High at the crowning of the Prom Queen… she's 18 looking into my eyes as she leaves for an adventurous year of school in Europe alone… she's a woman forever my daughter. She looking strongly for strength, she's telling me she loves me and always will, she's saying thank you, she's laughing, crying, joyful, she's holding tight and I want time to freeze. The aisle should have never ended, and yet it did… as it should. - Craig
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Craig McConnell
On the Road
Whew. Okay, we are off and running. Meant to get this posted Monday, but the Tour pace has been crazy. Had the first event of the Tour Sunday night in Nashville (which was also simulcast and webcast all over). Because Jesus is good, and I know he is faithful, I’m going to say that it went well. But man was it tough. The day was full of distraction and harassment. Getting lost. Showing up at the wrong location. Running late. It was hard to stay focused. A lot of moving parts, with a brand new event, a new talk for me, so many different people running around, and of course, the warfare. Thank you for praying. We couldn’t have done it without you. I really do believe it went well. I think the webcast is going to remain available for awhile, so I’ll let you know how you can access that as soon as I figure it out myself. Monday was Spartanburg. It too went well. Yesterday was Atlanta. A crazy day. Radio interview from my cell phone in the car, live TV interview next, then two events. In all of it, God sustained me. The hardest part in all this is remaining True. To be entrusted with a message so beautiful and so powerful, to cut through all the swirling agendas and warfare and seductions, to just simply offer the true Jesus with clarity, man is that hard. The pull is to tone down a little, or back off, to get distracted, to forget just who God is, to take credit for this and start thinking it's about me, to give in to other agendas. I went to bed feeling all of that, and just a little grieved that some of it happened yesterday. But I had a good time of prayer this morning, and I know God is in this. As you pray for us today, pray for our travels (Mike and Art are with me) and for the little plane we are using to run all over the place in these first five days. For our families while we are away. Pray against the religious spirit, and all distraction and sabotage. Against compromise. Pray that Jesus fills this, and that we remain True. His ability to be true, whatever the situation, be it adoration or opposition or indifference just astounds me. We want to live like that. Tonight we are in Dallas, and tomorrow in Houston. THANK YOU for praying for us. Together, we are bringing the beauty of the Kingdom and the heart of God. It's working. It is setting hearts free, and drawing so many people back to God.
John Eldredge
My Daughters Wedding
To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter. ~Euripides My daughter is getting married tomorrow. I’m walking her down The Aisle… giving her a kiss then giving her “away”. I’ve been sitting at my computer staring at the screen for a while now. I have no words, I do have tears.I feel like some part of me is being held hostage, tied to a chair with duct tape over my mouth, I simply cannot speak or write. So many moments in time surfacing… the day she was born; goofy hats and glasses; snuggling together. How horribly frightened I was through her teens… how unnecessary my fears were. Tickle fights; volleyball games,;homework sessions; answering or … trying to answer all her questions about why people are mean, God silent, and how caterpillars turn into butterflys. Oh, the pain in sending her off for school in Europe and leaving her behind when we moved to Colorado. She is a beautiful women. I love being her father… my question: are we forever speechless in presence of beauty?
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Craig McConnell
God spoke to me through a ketchup bottle last week
I was on this guys trip, sort of a men’s retreat/fishing excursion, with a group of guys I don’t know real well. Anyhow, the fishing was lousy and so was the weather and we were getting pretty discouraged about that. (At least, I sure was). I was praying about it in my room one morning before breakfast, and I sensed God say, “Teach them to pray.” Meaning, explain what you think is going on, and show them how you pray about this sort of thing. I was reluctant. I wasn’t sure what their take would be, and I didn’t want to come off as the fruit cake in the group. But, over breakfast I suggested we pray about the weather and the fishing. “Huh,” said one guy. “I don’t think about praying over stuff like this.” “Well,” I said, “just look at what you’ve got. Joy is being stolen. That sure looks suspicious to me. It smacks of the thief. The enemy hates joy. Maybe things will change if we pray about it.” Now, I knew what I was risking. If we pray about this and nothing happens, it’s just so discouraging and it adds to that general unbelief most Christians live with, like a cold or a low grade fever that never goes away, that nagging malaise of unbelief that says, “See, prayer doesn’t really work. Or my prayers don’t.” So it felt risky. It also felt risky because I knew in order for something to change we would have to pray in a way not very common to most Christian guys. We can’t just shoot up a “Jesus, be with us” prayer. Those are for the most part impotent. We’re going to have to really pray, and that’s what God was up to earlier in the morning when he said, “Teach them.” I sort took an internal breath and said, “OK. Let’s do this.” I led them in prayer, first sanctifying the entire trip to Jesus Christ. That’s level one. You’ve got to get things under the protection of Jesus by bringing them under his covering. Sanctifying things to him. Then we brought the full work of Christ against the thief. With intention. We prayed for the weather to stand down, by the authority of Jesus Christ. We prayed the fish would co-operate. We prayed like we meant it. Afterwards, I’m feeling like, “You are really out there now buddy. They think you are borderline anyways, and if this doesn’t work it gives them more reason to dismiss you.” I look up (I’m sitting at the breakfast table) and in front of me is the ketchup bottle. Now, it’s been passed around the table a lot, but at this very moment it’s facing me, and the words “Taste and Believe” are staring at me. I crack up. I know its God. He’s been after me on “believe” for a while now. I know this is from him. It’s just his sense of humor to use the ketchup to speak to me. Okay. Taste and believe. We go out into the day, and yep – the weather stands down, the fish cooperate. I tasted. I believe. What I love about this story is the playfulness of God, and his ability to speak to us in all sorts of ways. We know he is with us always. We also know he is creative. So he’ll use whatever it takes to get our attention. A burning bush. Or a ketchup bottle.
John Eldredge
Jamie
Today we, as a staff gathered to mark the transition of Jamie from being The Correspondence Department of Wild at Heart to a month of full time nesting and then mothering for a life time. I was so aware that this is a transition. Jamie will no longer be 3 doors down the hall. Gone is the potted “Charlie Brown” succulent sitting on her window sill. While the picture of Beaker remains centered perfectly on her door, the stuffed Kermit in a small vase is now gone along with the great photos that warmed the room of her and Tyler together smiling and dancing. Her recycling box… always full of plastic water bottles is absent. Gone is Junuh, her sheepish dog curled to her left next to the overstuffed chair and the sharply arranged stacks of mail in military order on her desk. Earlier this incredibly wonderful team of men and women I work with gathered around to enjoy a few of Jamie’s favorite things: sushi, Greek salad, Izzes soda, cashew poppy-cock, and southwest salad with chicken, a huge fruit salad and of course… chocolate. We munched and shared heart-felt words with Jamie. We thanked God and Jamie for taking our correspondence to a new level and for being the voice for Wild at Heart to thousands of people in scores of countries with so many diverse questions and stories. There were remembrances of laughing, journey, mission, how God was in her coming to Wild at Heart, swing dancing, that funky-stylish-cool-Jamie look and the beauty of her heart. She told a few stories about her favorite letters and a few of her “Pen Pals”. We circled around her and blessed this daughter of God for the seasons she’s been with us and for the season that begins in May. I’m sitting in the overstuffed chair taking in her vacated office thinking about the people God brings in and out of our lives… some we miss, some not so much. … I miss Jamie… AND am so very happy for her. I’m thinking of what my friend Vern said about people who are here and then gone, “…there was a distinct whiff of the life God delivered through you. I hear the echo of your words, and attitudes that belie having been influenced by God through you. It is amazing to me how God uses us to give life, and how long the echo of that life resounds in the lives around us.” This empty office echoes Jamie’s life. - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
A Beautiful Story
I just finished speaking in Orlando to a large gathering of youth pastors. I was talking about hearing God. The experience felt…a little weird. On one hand, I felt like I was speaking on something way too simple and obvious to justify a keynote talk, like telling them for forty-five minutes that they should drink water or get regular sleep. It felt so basic, so painfully obvious (even though I know they don’t practice this). On the other hand, at the very same moment I also felt like I was making a case for something really radical, really “out there,” like a fifth book of the Gospels. Thus the weird experience. This is really obvious. This is really a stretch. At the end of the talk, I led them in a few moments of silence and listening to God. Afterwords, there was a book signing, and God gave me two beautiful stories. The very first woman to the table was so excited. “God just spoke to me,” she said, eyes bright with that “this is so real” brightness. “He just helped me find my checkbook. Its been missing for like three months, and he just told me where it was.” Inside I was cracking up. You are so funny, God. This is how you wanted to show her this is real, and that you know her. Her checkbook. She bought five books to give to friends. The next story came about twenty minutes later. It’s a man this time, and he begins, “I’m not a very mystical guy.” I figured he was about to refer to the exercise where we listened to God, and I sort of smiled inside. When did talking to God become mystical? He continued, “But I did what you said and just got silent. And God said, Take Amy to St. John. Amy’s my wife, and God wants me to take her to the Bahamas.” I said, “Wow. Great,” thinking that was the end of the story. But he goes on, “After you finished I turned to the guy next to me and said, ‘I think God wants me to take my wife to St John.’ He said, ‘I have two tickets for St John and God has told me for awhile they are not for me but I’m supposed to give them to someone. So, you have two tickets for St. John.’” They had just met. How completely God is that? And this fellow, he was pretty blown away. “That is crazy!!” I just smiled and said, “Way to go. Enjoy the trip!” It’s not crazy. Just wild, and beautiful, and pretty normal…when you walk with God.
John Eldredge
New Things From Old Scriptures
I love it how the Scriptures continue to speak, opening up new things to us all the time even after (in my case) thirty years of reading the Bible. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Gospel of John (its my favorite) and a lot of time in chapter ten. For years I’ve used it to try and help people understand that God’s offer to us is far more than forgiveness (most Christians still think Christianity is pretty much forgiveness). God’s offer is life. Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10b). Anyhow, I was reading again in John last week, and God showed me something new. Jesus begins the chapter talking about false shepherds and false Gospels. He then goes on to say: "The man who enters by the gate is the shepherd of his sheep. The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice…whoever enters through me will be saved [or “kept safe” according to the editor’s footnote]. He will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” What clicked for me was the connection between hearing his voice and finding life. Forgive me, but somehow I’ve never quite seen the union of the two ideas. I believe we can hear the voice of God. I also believe that God wants life for us. But somehow I’ve held these two convictions for years in separate shoe boxes in my mind. Both are true. But I never really saw how connected they are to each other. In fact, Jesus makes it more than a connection – he makes it a condition. “You want the life your good shepherd has for you? You’ve got to follow my voice.” This is a big deal. Because – in spite of the fact the Scriptures urge us to listen for God’s voice – most Christians do not make it a daily practice to ask God what he thinks about what they are planning to do. Then they feel disappointed when things don’t turn out, or abandoned when things go badly. They lose confidence in God’s goodness, or at least, in God’s goodness towards them. It doesn’t occur to them that maybe they missed some essential part of life with God. Like, following closely. Now, I am NOT saying (as some very successful authors are) that life can be completely fantastic if we just “believe,” or “lay hold of it,” or listen for God’s voice. I am NOT preaching a Gospel without suffering. Life can be hard, really hard, especially for the friends of God. Jesus said that the world would treat us as they treated him. They didn’t treat him very kindly. We simply have to be prepared for that. What I AM saying is that even so, even in a broken world, there is a LOT of life that God still has for us. He says so. “They will come in and go out and find pasture.” Jesus was an essentially happy, joyful person. We can be, too. When we find our life in God. By the way, I think every parent, every friend, every lover knows something of the condition Jesus is talking about. As a father, I want good things for my sons. I want to bless them. Not spoil, not overindulge, not pamper. But I do want lots and lots of good things for them. But not when they blow me off. Not when they ignore my counsel. Not when they don’t really care about our relationship. Much of what I have to offer depends on my boys saying close to me, listening to me. Anyhow, it’s the same with God. You want life? You want to find good pasture? You’ve got to go “in and out” through Jesus, run all things through him. Listen for his voice. And follow.
John Eldredge
Guess Jeans
Paul Lavelle our Director of Resources & Marketing just got back from a 10 day visit of a friend in Thailand. We’re sharing lunch and getting “caught up”. How long was the flight? Did you fly through Hong Kong? What was it like? What did you do? You must be exhausted, what’s the time difference? Did you pick me up a pair of knock-off Guess Jeans? (Hey! With my weight loss I can upgrade from my Carhartt Relaxed Fits). Ten minutes into stories of scuba diving, robust cuisine, meeting up with an old buddy, adjusting plans around security concerns, the breathtaking natural beauty and the hospitality of The Land of Smiles Paul pauses… shifts in his seat and with a subtle shift in the tone of his voice… then his eyes … tells of the sine qua non event of the trip. Paul comes upon a severely disabled young man dragging himself across a narrow bridge. I couldn’t tell you all the details… but at this point he’s said enough that two things are happening within me: first: I’m surprised I’m not glazing over in calloused self-protection from another–one-of-those-third-world-stories of poverty, horrific suffering and injustice… secondly I’m flush with recollections of my own encounters… Muggy hot afternoons in some dusty maze of a “city” being heartbroken full of grief and sorrow and guilt wondering "What is his life like?", "How far does he crawl a day?", "How much money does he make?", "Is he married… does he have children?” "How long can he live this kind of life?" “Are those even relevant questions?” “Does he know Christ and have any hope of a future or is all he knows and has limited to right here, right now? He has nothing...no life, no hope, only a continuing hell. I remember coming home feeling indelibly humbled… changed, sensing how very stinking well off I am, how much I have, how good I've got it. I'm hugging my wife and telling my daughters how much I love them... I'm on my knees thanking God for my every breath of life. And it lasts for about two weeks. Paul, eyes fully tear filled, shares of his moving towards the man placing his hand on the man’s brow and crying out to God on his behalf. Crying out. And then Paul’s eyes meet the man’s and in that glance Paul shares he saw God. There’s a pause in our conversation. A settling in. I’m crying at this moment and I cannot tell you why. - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
The Third Day
…suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell. The third day He arose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty…– The Apostle’s Creed …He suffered and was buried, and the third day he rose again according to the Scriptures, and ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of the Father. And he shall come again with glory to judge both the quick and the dead, whose kingdom shall have no end… - Nicene Creed …who suffered for our salvation, descended into hell, rose again the third day from the dead; he ascended into heaven… - The Athanasian Creed …one Christ, true God and true man, who was born of the Virgin Mary, truly suffered, was crucified, dead, and buried, that He might reconcile the Father unto us, and be a sacrifice, not only for original guilt, but also for all actual sins of men. He also descended into hell, and truly rose again the third day; afterward He ascended into heaven that He might sit on the right hand of the Father, and forever reign and have dominion over all creatures… - The Augsburg Confession
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Craig McConnell
The Perfect Meatball
Bart, Gary, John and I spent two days and a night in the mountains for a Wild at Heart Leadership Retreat. It's simply our setting aside some much needed time to be together and invite God into our midst... and go from there. I've been in Colorado with Wild at Heart for 5+ years and I think these guys have gone after one issue or another in me 48 times. I really don't want any of this time to be about me. I'm living large, love what God' has done, is doing and I'd say I'm in a season of grace... I'm good... "Hey, this trip is about you guys... I'll sacrifice a step or two further into my holiness for one of you guys" So, we're outside in the mid-day sun circled in our white plastic chairs enjoying cigars yapping. Bart reflects on his walk with God and WHOMP... deep desires, long felt frustrations and deep seated agreements surface... we pray, listen to God, probe, battle and ... God comes for Bart. WOW! Did he ever need that! We throw together a late lunch and are relaxed and flopped about on the couches and overstuffed chairs within reach of an evangelistic fire chatting. John shares some of his current story... a couple of questions are asked, something is stirred up, there’s pauses, moist eyes… tender back and forth between us. God is there and is connecting a few dots for John.... We pray, we break agreements, invite God in. WHOA! Very cool! We go outside tromp around in the snow and start throwing pine cones... which, of course escalates into a contest... who can knock off the pine cone sitting on the fence post.... it turns out it's easier to throw pine cones or snow balls at one another (especially Bart, he's not nimble enough to dodge a hurled cone). We go out for dinner and yap about college basketball, aquariums, the perfect meatball, spiritual warfare and how very desperate we are for warm weather. The next morn I 'm up at 4:30 enjoying time alone journaling... which ends with some internal clank-bang-kurpluck at 6:37. Out of nowhere I’m immediately nauseous. The guys are up, and suspicious of the timing, began to pray against my “illness”. Being still, a tad skeptical of the prevalence of warfare in our lives, I’m the only one surprised that the prayers work. I'm now feeling much better physically (Huh?). They’re curious about what brought on the assault to take me out for the day and begin to ask the questions those who really know you do. I’m caught off guard by yet another “Four Stream” session as God takes me to a younger place… It’s opening night in a theatre with my name on the marquee. A younger man, I’m sitting in a chair on the stage behind the closed curtain in full panic not wanting the curtain to open and confirm my existential terror that no one will be there. Needless to say… tears, counsel, listening prayer, the breaking of deep agreements and God addresses profound fears lodged deep in my soul. Number 49! So… a pattern for our Leadership Retreat is set and we all know… Gary’s up next. He steps up and shares vulnerably his real time struggle and true to form God shows up! Pain, light, deep tears, understanding... agreements are broken, healing begins, hope and heart restored… a profound and intimate kiss from God. WOW! Hours later we drove back home. Exhausted and amazed by God’s heart for us and all that’s unfolding in our lives. It is stunning! The drive went quickly as we talked about Wild at Heart, our staff, our mission, fly fishing, raising kids and the perfect meatball. - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell