Articles & Posts
Our New Website is Up!
Have you noticed – things always seem to take longer than you expect (and certainly longer than I ever want). But finally we are getting to release some new great stuff out of Wild at Heart I think you’re going to love. First, check out our new website! We’ve been working on it for some time now, and though this is a “soft” launch (we have a number of new pieces yet to come) we are really excited about it. Some of the new things you’ll want to notice are: Love and War! Stasi and I wrote a marriage book (yikes) that releases December 15. Friends who have had a sneak peek tell us they love the manuscript (whew). With that, we are also doing a Tour in January and February, and we’ll be podcasting and so lots of great stuff for couples coming your way. New resources! One of our deepest passions here at Wild at Heart is to continue to provide you with great teaching to help deepen your intimacy with God, and through that find the healing, freedom and life he intends for you. We’ve just released a new batch of wonderful stuff, including a teaching on The Life of Jesus that’s my personal favorite, along with five other audio projects. Stories! The best thing about Wild at Heart is the phenomenal stories people have to tell of how God is coming for them. We’re going to start featuring those on our new home page, which will be so encouraging to you, and, you’ll find there a way to share your story, too! More to come, as we seek to uncover the treasure buried in the field and share it with everyone we possibly can.
John Eldredge
Distraction
“Hutchison's Law: Any occurrence requiring undivided attention will be accompanied by a compelling distraction.” – Robert Bloch This is now the fourth afternoon I’ve sat down to scribble out a bit of all that’s unfolding before me to no avail. There’s a gumbo of fresh thoughts simmering around in my heart and head that I’d love to put out there on paper… (such as): … there is a joy rooted in objective truth that desperate circumstances cannot alter. … what we actually mean when we say that “Marriage” is hard. … my love of naps. … the grief and longings stirred up looking through an old school annual. … an addiction update. … the breeding ground angry partisan talk shows are for anxiety, fear and hatred. … General George Patton’s biography. … how the six “Woes” of Luke 11 effect me. … when a glass of wine or a well stirred Manhattan is so sweet. … a friend’s challenge to ponder my being “Chosen”. … my first impressions of alternative cancer treatments/cures. .… reflections on my conversion to a warfare world-view. … how easy I find it to hear God when He’s saying what I want. … bowling leagues. I’m still sitting in front of the computer. Words on each of these musings and more are present… but at the moment I seem unable to put two intelligent sentences together. (Go ahead and count them). Distraction is familiar territory for me. One moment I’m bottomed-out in my chair, placid, glazed over in stage 3 of “writers block” and then I find myself in the middle of some project: cleaning out the garage; sharpening every pencil in the house; organizing my library by perfectly aligning every book on its shelf topically in alphabetical order (by author of course); re-folding the family tent or creating a new itunes playlist. Aargh!!! The desire to write persists, so I strap myself back into the chair and lean back to process my thoughts and get God’s interpretation of what’s going on. Okay, while in silence and stillness there’s a woodpecker rhythmically destroying the wood facia on the north side of our home. I’ve gone out twice to scare him away but, once again he’s returned. This red headed terror pounds on the house giving me, not him, a headache. Wanting to fight through my dissipation I begin to pray… Father, Father, Father, I come to you now, in this moment longing for you, loving you, worshiping you. I fully consecrate/surrender myself to you… (and then it happens) Do Red Tail Hawks really have red tails? At a movie theater which arm rest is yours? Are eyebrows considered facial hair? Do you change the heater filter every 30 days or 60 days? It probably depends upon the season. I probably need to replace it every month in winter, every two months in fall and spring, and none in summer…so how many would that be per year? I wonder if Home Depot gives you a case discount? Distraction. I snap out of it the way you jerk yourself awake in the early stages of sleep and continue, Lord come give me focus, strength, diligence. Counsel and father me… When is my breakfast appointment tomorrow? I better not wear my good shirt I may stain it. Do you know what I’m describing? I fear I am much and often distracted. Even now, this very moment, as I finish this scrawling I’m so aware of the battle required to do such simple things, the most important things. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy [and distract]; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. – John 10:10 A battle we must and can win. Join me in fighting it! – Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Wrong Room?
Last night must have been a blue moon for this morning I went onto Facebook to peruse the status of my friends. A young friend posted: Thomas wishes that when he ran into a room and started dancing that other people would get up and dance. and not just sit and stare. ya. One of Thomas’s friends commented quickly: maybe you're running into the wrong rooms I didn’t read another line. I’m pausing still... God why does this grab me? Maybe we’re running into the wrong rooms/churches/small groups/relationships... Don’t stop dancing! – Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
People and Moments
There are places I remember All my life, though some have changed, Some forever, not for better, Some have gone and some remain. All these places had their moments, With lovers and friends I still can recall, Some are dead and some are living, In my life I've loved them all. – “In My Life”, The Beatles I found myself singing this song today… fondly, in most cases, remembering some of the names and faces of friends who have moved in and then out of our lives. It was like looking through your High School Annual and wondering as you turned the pages, “I wonder what every became of Jerry Gorvitski… or Doris Ward?” People you grew up with, some you hated, some you loved, looking back, others seem like extras in some young story beginning to unfold. I thought of Barry, Laurie, Jim, Ron, former colleagues, friends and neighbors. There were a few names I passed over quickly… and sadly, for the transition from close friend/colleague to a “memory” was painful, messy or poorly done. Several things surfaced. I hope and live and love well. I think I do… “Do I Lord?” There are still people to forgive, and issues of residual bitterness for me to deal with in a few relationships. “Lord, guide me in forgiveness. I long to be a forgiving man”. Looking around at all the faces, stories and names that surround me now… I thank God for so many wonderful people in my life. I am a blessed man. “Thank you God for how you’ve used people in my life to bless me, to expose me and invite me into a holier, more loving life. May I savor and love those in my life now, May I forgive those who have hurt me. Lord, I love you!”
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Craig McConnell
Memory
One of my favorite quotes comes from Nathaniel Hawthorne: “Our Creator would never have made such lovely days and given us the deep hearts to enjoy them, above and beyond all thought, unless we were meant to be immortal.” I love it for a couple of reasons. One, it reminds me that the beauty of the earth and the golden days we do experience are gifts from a loving God, telling us what his heart is like. It also helps me with the dilemma of “but why do they pass so quickly?” I have a photo on my cell phone. It is an evening shot of the Tetons, taken during our summer vacation this past August. Like so many other things in my life, I have already grown used to the photo and don’t see it anymore, even though it is there every time I pick up my phone. But I saw it again the other day, actually saw it, stopped, took it in, and was taken back to the lovely evening. A sweet summer moment with my family in a place I love. I was reminded of how good it was. But I was also struck by, “and how quickly these beautiful moments pass.” It got me thinking about memory. I think God gave us the capacity of memory to help us enjoy the moments that in and of themselves pass so quickly. I mean, summer seems so long ago already, and though the time in the Tetons was a sweet gift from God, life has swept us downriver and the event itself is way back upstream, already faded from view. Except, I have the photo, which stirs my memory. And there I can enjoy it again, drink from it, linger longer than the event itself. We are immortal, meant to live above time, beyond time. But we live in time while we are in this chapter on earth, and we are uncomfortable with it. Stasi and I dropped off our middle son, Blaine, at college a month ago, and it was such a bitter sweet moment. His boyhood is over. The river has swept on and all those sweet days are upstream now and we are racing further on. Why must the days pass so quickly? I want to enjoy them far more than I am able to. Which brings me back to memory. I’m beginning to realize that I do not take advantage of this gift from God, this capacity that enable me to “linger at the table” in the moments of life I long to draw more out of. For they are always with me, and I can return there if I will make room for a moment to do so.
John Eldredge
Waving Goodbye
How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. ~Carol Sobieski and Thomas Meehan, Annie A couple of weeks ago Lori and I came to the end of some vacation time in So. California. We were at our daughter’s home saying our “Goodbyes” and steeling ourselves for the drive back to Colorado. Pulling out of their driveway we wave, give the traditional 3 quick honks of the horn, yell “Goodbye” and began to weep. I allow my internal world to breach and a wave of emotions follow. I’m a bit caught off guard by the fervor of my tears. They were new, not the familiar tears from the historic taps of my soul/wounds. These were fresh as if from a newly uncovered spring. We’re zipping up the interstate just south of Barstow and the “spring” now feels like the seepage of a dam beginning to crack. Our emotions have been compared to the “idiot” light on a car’s dashboard. When it goes off it’s always good to check under the hood to determine what’s going on. To ignore it is to court with much bigger issues down the road. Lori and I ask/invite God to help us interpret the tears and the energy behind them. And then, rather quickly, a question comes to me from God. So much of my interaction with God comes in the form of questions. I ask a question, He answers with a question. It’s truly conversational. It’s a Socratic dialog with a sagely loving father who happens to be the Holy and Magnificent Triune Creator God of Angel Armies who sovereignly rules over all of Heaven and Earth. His questions always cause me to pause, ponder, reorient and eventually offer a response that then becomes the subject of a deeper discussion. The discussion may be a brief moment or unfold over weeks. With the diagnosis of malignant melanoma* and my bout with mortality as the back story, I hear God ask, “Craig, if you were to die sooner than you’d like/planned, am I sufficient for Lori? Do you trust that I, as her God, her Father and Lover would care for her, “be there” for her, protect and provide for her? Could I make her laugh and fill her with joy; bless her life and give her a rich full life all of her days?” And in His next breath He asks, “How about your girls, your daughters and grandchildren? Am I enough for Lindsey, Meagan, Jacqueline and Annie? Do you trust that I, their Father, Friend, Lover and God would care for them; guide them; and fill their hearts and lives with joy? Would my “Being there” for holidays, anniversaries, family vacations, graduations and weddings bring them joy, love, hope, faith and life?” “Am I enough for those you love?” (I’m not trying to be sappy, honest…for if I were I’d suggest you put on “Butterfly Kisses” as you read this). My first reaction was to His question was … “What?” I think I felt like the Rich Young Ruler may have, when he asks Christ, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life”, and Christ responds with, what seems to me, to be an odd question, “Why do you call me good?” Huh… what’s Christ’s question got to do with the rich guys question? Something inside was responding, “Why of course You’re sufficient and enough… I’ve professed and taught that for years! What does that have to do with these tears?” God will often use a question to redirect the issue we’re bringing to him to a more pivotal issue of the heart. Now, let me say, I think each of us has a number of voids/needs/yearnings that if filled bring us life in a deeper richer more textured way. Each of us has a star shaped hole only a loving spouse can fill. A friend doesn’t fill it, a pet cannot and God will not. A round peg will not fit or fill it. If that hole/void/need/yearning remains unfilled we legitimately ache, serverely at times and we bear the scar or grief that emptiness in our soul brings. There’s a round hole only a father fills, a diamond shaped hole a mother fills… and there’s a God shaped void no spouse, child, success,amount of money or religion can touch… We’ve got a bunch of holes, voids and yearnings, and it’s critical that they be filled. But they’re not all filled all the time. The God-hole is the mondo-bolardo of holes/needs/voids we have as humans. Our yearning/need for intimacy with God is crucial and though we try to fill it with all kinds of stuff… it’s only the One True God peg that fits. To know God is to have life whether or not the other holes are filled. When the God-hole is filled we have all we need to worship, follow, live loving lives and taste heaven here and now no matter what our circumstances or hardships are. God alone is sufficient. He is enough. So, “Yes”, my “premature” death would have an impact upon those closest to me, to varying degrees they would ache, grieve, go “without” some pretty significant stuff for the rest of their lives. And there is God whois sufficient, enough, plenty, all-they-need in some deep governing true way to live life fully, richly and meaningfully. He is they’re Father, Lord, Lover, Companion, Friend, Guide, Counselor, Comforter, Provider… While I have believed all that I just said for decades the answer to God’s question, “Am I sufficient, am I enough for your wife and family?” that surfaced in a mile or two was actually, “No. I don’t think you’re sufficient to cover the gaping hole my death would bring.” There was about five miles of stillness as my response soaked in… deeply. I don’t think God is enough. I’m not certain, when it comes down to the most important issues of my life, that I can trust Him!?#%&*?! Whoa! That’s new, big, important, deep… surprising! Another 6 miles of stillness/silence passed. No wonder I’m crying as I leave my family! They’re facing an emotional, relational destitution without me! A sparse, cold, long winter. Without my strength, love, godliness and selfless presence the family tree, once so verdant and promising, will wilt like a cursed fig tree with future generations looking back and citing my early demise as the tragic end of the McConnell Spirit. I began to connect a few dots. If I do not trust God for my posterity, do I trust him with my life? If He is not enough for them is He for me? If He is not a good hearted strong Lover and Father for Lori, Lindsey, Meagan and the kids, is he for me? Every core issue and all the behaviors and attitudes we hate most in our lives have some root in the idea that God isn’t good. What was springing from my soul was a profound need to know God far more intimately than I currently do. My tears were the expression of the deepest longing of my heart… to know God so well that I find myself smiling about the future and the great, great love The Father will lavish upon me and the family that follows. – Craig *see previous blog for more on the melanoma issue, which, God willing, has been resolved.
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Craig McConnell
Tomato
I’m not suffering with a horrible body awareness issue (see photo), but there are a few small features I wish were different about my tabernacle.* (For the record, that is my face and fishing hat!) I’ll restrain myself from disclosing the 23 adjustments I’m hoping for in my glorified body but I will own the vanity of wishing that my skin could take a little more sun than it does. Tan I am not! My Scot-Irish ancestry is seen in my ruddy freckled complexion. “Ruddy” of course meaning “red”, as in, “He’s as red as a tomato.” “Tomato” being a short lived nickname a couple of 9th grade knucklehead best friends gave me because of my regular second-degree sunburn from surfing and beach life. Note: Growing up in So. Cal the only lotion I ever saw anyone but on their body was baby oil… sunscreen was practically unheard of. So, over the decades I’ve grilled my epidermis like a cheap steak a zillion times. Somewhere along the way the concept of skin damage popped onto my radar with my first, “Hey, this mole looks a little funky” moment being circa 1988. That began my pilgrimages to a dermatologist for an annual pruning/zapping/frying of sundry oddities. One Doc examining my back compared it to a pier piling covered with barnacles! The visits have simply become a part of life, like getting an oil change, paying your taxes or having corn beef on St. Patrick’s Day… the pathology reports always came in “negative” a week or two later. So this June I trot in to the dermatology office for the usual examination. A dozen spots are frozen, a couple of blots/weird-pigment-smudges removed and a little something new... a prescription for a topical cream (fluorouracil) that destroys precancerous cells. In the ten days you’re applying this stuff you become a living scab, lichen with personality, a Star War “bar scene” character. I looked so bad I considered wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask or withdrawing from civilization for 10 days. The directions warn you: Do Not get this in your eyes or upon your lips, to wash your hands thoroughly after applying and then suggest you wear rubber gloves when touching it… I’m thinking, “And I’M PUTTING THIS ON MY FACE?!? Deciding not to take my “sick days” I show up at work as usual with most of my 30-something knucklehead best friends calling me Freddie Krueger! My favorite moment was when sweet and kind Amanda, seeing my face for the first time, simply said, “It must hurt”. It wasn’t a question. My treatment ends none-to-soon and the family and I take off for a little R&R at Lake Havasu. It’s a great vacation aided by the fact that we were mercifully cut off from the known world having no cell phone coverage or email access. At vacations end, driving back towards LA my phone gets coverage and starts picking up a number of messages. There are three that catch my interest, each along the lines of: “Hello Craig, this is Doctor Jones**, I’m trying to reach you to go over your pathology report. Would you give me a call so we can set up a time to talk.” Huh… I have never had the doctor call to give me a pathology report… it’s always been a nurse. The standard line is, “Mr. McConnell the removed tissue was Basal cell carcinoma, “no problem… wear sunscreen… we’ll see you at your annual checkup. Oh, and wear sunscreen!” I’m thinking this isn’t good. For a variety of almost comedic reasons it takes me 4 days to finally reach my doctor. I’m toast… My doctor confirms that the tissue was a melanoma and that I need to set up an appointment with a surgeon to have the whole tumor removed… soon. Melanoma? Cancer? Me? It was then that everything went into slow motion. Voices were muffled and I felt like I was viewing the world through tunnel vision.The big soggy wet cold blanket of my mortality had been thrown over me. Some of you have been there. Some of you are there now. It was startling; I was knocked off center. Stunned! At some point in all of this God intrudes asking, “What’s changed with this diagnosis… really?” My knee jerk immediate reaction was: “E v e r y t h i n g!” Looking back it was surprisingly quick that I found some solid ground and perspective. That I am mortal isn’t new? That has always been true from the moment I was conceived. We all die. Some in the womb, some at 23 yrs. old in combat (like my father), some in an accident at 36 or in bed at 92. That I’ll die isn’t new… it just feels like it. That I could die sooner than later feels new? But in truth the gift of life is so very fragile and precious…we are dependent upon God for our every breath. I began to face the godless assumption that I would live to a “ripe old age” (James 4:13–15), when, in truth, there have never been any guarantees that tomorrow will come. This led to some necessary repentance. So… that my days are numbered isn’t new either. Nothing has changed, it just seems like it. Whether or not it’s a change I found myself craving life… to possess it, live in it, share it, fondle it and celebrate it. With no sluggish assumptions about the length of my life, I found myself diving into the depths of life; wanting to love and live with Lori, Lindsey, Meagan and the sacred circle of family and friends I enjoy. It feels like a change wrought by my diagnosis… and maybe it is. But I’ve always wanted to live passionately for God about God, sucking the marrow out of life regardless of the circumstances I find myself in. If this is a change… it’s for the better and I’ll take it! So there I was… realizing that very little has actually changed and all that has shifted seems pretty good at the moment! The life I want is forever and always rooted in Christ... nothing else. Not my health, not my circumstances. And the words of an old sage come to mind, to live is Christ. In July the Melanoma was surgically removed and my prognosis is life! Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom. - Psalm 90:12 NLT – Craig (There is so much more to say about all of this, and the truth is that I’m still processing my mortality with God. If interested, John and I recorded and posted on our web site a podcast in which I share another part of this story. The podcast title is: God In Our Summer Part 2) * I always smile when I read Old King James refer to our body as a “tabernacle” in 2 Corinthians 5:4; thus I had to use it here! The passage: For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life. ** Though he’s an incredible doctor that I would highly recommend and continues to be my dermatologist it seems best not to share his real name. *** Abraham breathed his last and died in a ripe old age, an old man and satisfied with life; and he was gathered to his people. – Genesis 25:8 NASB
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Craig McConnell
Lake Havasu
Lori and I live in Colorado. Our daughters live in So. Cal. From our driveway to Lindsey’ home is 1,103 miles, 1,051 to Meagan’s. That’s a lot of miles between us. I deeply wish we were together more often, enjoying the grace and intimacy being geographically close allows as well as the greater weight and effect my life would have upon them. I miss them. I miss the just “being” there, swinging by in the morning with a bagel, a kiss and a my 2–cents on the issue du jour. Or the fam and a circle of friends sitting on the beach quietly applauding another beautiful sunset together. But, and it’s a B I G “but”, Colorado, a thousand-plus miles away, is where God has us and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. About seven years ago Lori and I moved from a beach community in LA to the side of the Rockies to partner with John Eldredge in this ministry called Wild at Heart. I had been a pastor on a once dynamic, passionate and gifted staff at a church with a national reputation for creatively pursuing God, His purposes and all peoples. But, as it often happens, there were some staff changes and with that came a contagion that horribly disfigured the church as a few pharisaic kamikazes flew it into a granite massif. The massif, the staff and the church have never been the same. Sub-biblical leadership is a bad thing! God’s clear call to Colorado/Wild at Heart seemed, to us, on the scale of God calling Abram to “Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you.”To leave it “all” took a strong and persistent voice. True to His revelatory nature He obliged us, and we followed Him. Among other things “following” God eventually requires a pretty deep and firm belief that He is good, that His heart is for you and from that heart He will provide above and beyond all that’s lost in the pursuit. I’d also add that eventually following God requires an awareness and embrace of The Larger story that we’re living in. At some point tagging along with God will involve taking a risk you cannot manage, a battle with an uncertain ending, a Goliath adversary, a traitorous friend or a circumstance that is the very thing you’ve feared facing all your life. How can you rightly interpret your life, God’s involvement or your course if you question the goodness of God and view The Story as being all about you? You can't. The life we yearn for is found by knowing God as our Loving Father, and that the story we’re living in is epic in nature and scope. And though our role is mythic and crucial, the main character of this story is God, and His redemptive, victorious love of us. I am beginning to understand this more clearly. So… in June my family (daughters, spouses, grand daughters) joined more of our family (Bill, Anita and Michael) at Lake Havasu for a little "family" vacation. Lake Havasu is the desert playground on the Colorado River bordering Arizona and California that has The London Bridge arching over it. (Years ago Havasu actually bought The London Bridge, and moved it to this bass fishing and Spring–Break-Gone-Wild mecca as a tourist magnet). On our first night there, Bill, Anita, Lori, Meagan, Lindsey and I are in a ski boat on the lake as the sun is setting enjoying one another and a mid-level price performing chardonnay. We swam, laughed, talked and soaked in the beauty of a fiery sunset. It’s those moments I want to last forever. Family, friends, beauty, joy... It was awesome. One of my daughters says to me, “I love being together as family.” I smile, I hug her and weep wishing for so very much more of this! An hour later we’re on shore walking back to the Lake House and she softly says to me, “Dad, for a little while there on the boat with you I forgot I was an adult.” I am a rich man. And for a little while there in Havasu I forgot I lived so far from the ones I love most, I forgot the ache, the yearning, the grief. In the presence of a good father a lot of things are forgotten. The life I want most isn’t found in Havasu, Colorado or So. Cal. It’s in the presence of my Father. – Craig
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Craig McConnell
Epic and Intimate
I have been thinking about the Christian life, and my own life, thinking about the essential themes, experiences and needs, and I have landed on these two words to describe it: Epic and Intimate. Somehow these resonate deeply as the core of life with God. As I thought about this, I remembered something that happened more than ten years ago, when my best friend Brent was killed in a climbing accident. I went to the mountains to seek solace, and solitude, beauty, and time with God. I was high in the Holy Cross wilderness, surrounded by majestic peaks and valleys. But the grandeur – the Epic – did not meet me as it normally does. I walked; I wandered. As I was descending back to my camp one afternoon, I came across a very small patch of very small flowers, tiny little white flowers so delicate and intricate they could have been lace. The dam broke; the grief poured out; I wept for the first time deeply. Because what I found in those flowers was the Intimate – the love of God, the mercy of God, the tenderness. Intimately. A few weeks ago Stasi had some music on the stereo, a soundtrack to a movie and it was very sweeping, moving, Epic. It stirred me deeply, woke me from the mundane, called my heart up. It was just what I needed. But on the whole, I tend to spend a lot of time in the Great Battle, and relish the Epic, find in it my life’s purpose. So again this summer, as I took to the mountains, I found it was the Intimate my soul most deeply needed. We were hiking in the Flat Tops; there was a 100 foot waterfall. It was awesome (Epic). I loved it. But what I lingered over were the smaller things – dew in the meadow, the tiny flowers (this time pink ones), the particular leaves and bark on a tree. Epic and Intimate. I think you could take these two categories and find them helpful in many ways. Those of us who tend toward the Epic need to balance that with the Intimate. And the opposite is also true – those who tend towards the Intimate need to awaken to the Epic and live in it.
John Eldredge
A Quart in my Tank
So, we try and build some margin into our “season” at Wild at Heart. We are very aware of the danger of burn-out in ministry. It seems like the number one occupational hazard for Christians. So common it seems inevitable. But no. We set a calendar that has some margin in it, and we do our best to stick to it. But try as one may, you can never predict the inevitable crises that come our way. Or the intensity of warfare. Or the myriad of other draining things that show up unexpectedly. It has been a brutal year. I arrived at June spent beyond all reason. Running on fumes. Thank God, we do build a sort of sabbath into June and July, where not all activity shuts down – still gotta pay the bills, answer email, finish edits, carry on – but we do get some breathing room to rest and recouperate before our season kicks in again mid-August. What will I do with this time? I feel like a man with three dollars in my pocket. Maybe a quart in my tank. And what astounds me is how quickly I think about spending what little I have. I get a little bit back in my soul and I start thinking about advancing the Kingdom. People that need my help. I get a little bit of God back in my tank and I start thinking about who I need to pray for. Lord have mercy. I made it to the station on fumes, but the process of re-fueling takes time and I’ve got less than a gallon in my tank now, and here I am thinking about hitting the road. No wonder God commanded sabbath rest. He had to demand it, insist on it, make it an issue of moral consequence, otherwise we wouldn’t do it. It is so easy, dangerously easy to get caught up in the pace of this crazy world that rest feels uncomfortable; doing nothing feels awkward; as soon as we feel even a little bit refreshed, we’re back out on the highway, blasting ahead. No. I’m not going to do that. I’m going to listen to God. Let him set the pace. Let him re-fill me. There is a time for action, and a time for restoration. God give us the mercy to accept the time he has us in. Especially when it is time for restoration.
John Eldredge
A Son of Zebedee
Jon, my son-in-law, is my wingman. A wingman is the man who is covering your tail, an extra set of eyes guarding your vulnerabilities. The mission is effectively accomplished because of the teamwork between a pilot and his wingman. I’m the pilot. Our mission is to rescue the hearts of a group of men with the beauty, power and truth of the Gospel. The plan was for Jon to fly into Denver from LA early Wednesday morning to give the two of us a full day to connect, get caught up, go over our notes and run a few errands before we leave for Toronto at 5 AM the next morning. There was a lot to get done. Unfortunately Jon had to do the United Two Step… his flight was delayed several times, with different reasons/excuses given and then finally cancelled. In a rare moment of customer awareness and competence they finally got Jon on a flight, gave him a 1 oz. bag of nuts, a 4 oz. serving of diet Coke and landed the plane (with his luggage on it!).* Our day has vanished, my plan skittled leaving me frazzled. I rush north to Denver International to pick up my wingman in one of those wouldn’t-it-be-nice-if-days-like-this-never-ever-happened godless moods. “Godless” in the sense that something in me is ranting and raving about life not unfolding in the comfortable, pain and hassle free manner I demand. “Demand” in the sense that all poor reactions have at their root, core beliefs about God’s goodness and what brings life. My reaction, like the “idiot” light on the car dashboard, indicates some governing world-view is being thwarted/challenged. (Note James 4) A good time to take an inside look is when life turns unpleasant. In such times we become one of the Sons of Zebedee who approach Christ with the demand, “I want You to do for me whatever I ask of You.” (Mark 10:35). I wanted this day, with Jon to go a “certain way” so that… this conference, with Jon would go a “certain way” and that when the mission is over I’d feel a “certain way” about the conference, myself and life in general. “Jesus I expect you to do for me whatever I ask…” As I drove I was aware that all is not well internally. I put in The Daily Prayer CD*, which a recording of John Eldredge praying the prayer that many of us pray on a daily basis (It’ll change your prayer life). I’ll often meditate on the words as I’m driving around, pausing it at different points to linger with my own prayers and reflections. 14 seconds into the prayer there’s an acknowledgment of God being sovereign. I stop the CD and allow the idea of God being over all, in control, the sovereign God counter the sense I have that all of life is chaotic and fully out of control… that this mission is a mistake and so am I. It was great. I traversed into a reflective spell pondering the overwhelming reality that it was God who put this entire trip together: it was God prompting Tom, our Canadian host to invite me, his suggesting that I bring a wingman, God suggesting Jon as my wingman … that God is going before us preparing the men for whatever unfolds… that He, God, would use this mission for some purpose in our lives! And the question surfaced was, “Given God’s sovereignty, what could happen that we couldn’t handle?” Lose my notes!? “It would be a relief… finally loosed from my dependence upon them I would be free to share my unanchored heart/soul.” We miss a flight!? “That’s simple… it’s an act of God for which we have no control, and actually might be fun.” Jon and I are somehow separated!?“Yeah and so? We’d make it together eventually, and if not? What a story to tell in the years ahead! We crash and die!?“Lori’s rich, I’m in heaven… what could I have done?” We crash and don’t die!?“What a story to tell in the years ahead!” The men hate me!?“Hey, I’m just the messenger.” The men love me, hoist me on their shoulders and worship me as some god!?“What a story to tell for years and years… and years” It’s at this moment I find myself veering off the interstate and mistakenly onto a highway headed the opposite direction. I’m thrown out of my meditative state now facing a circuitous detour and tardy arrival with even less time to get everything done! Immediately I respond will a variety of “French” expressions. Then another question rises and quickly tempers my reaction… “If God is sovereign, is it appropriate to be profane when you make a wrong exit while musing about his control over all things?” I crack up. How quickly my response to disruptive undesired circumstances reveals my governing beliefs about his sovereignty! – Craig McConnell * Excuse the cynicism… it’s hard being a frequent flyer these days!@#?
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Craig McConnell
Watching People
I’ll admit to a vivid imagination. It keeps me entertained, humors my friends, endears me to many and is the cause of sporadic troubles. I enjoy “People Watching”*… you know, sitting on a park bench, in a mall or at a sidewalk café watching a parade of God’s glorious and funky creatures… kinda like bird watching except with people. So, I board my flight from LAX to DC on my way to Zurich early (to get “situated” into my assigned seat stow my carry-on stuff; arrange my water bottle, head phones, iPod, journal with a 0.5 mechanical pencil in the seat sleeve; get my gum out and pray that God has sovereignly kept the seat next to me vacant). Sitting on the aisle in the forward compartment of the plane I view everyone pass by to their seats. As I often do, I wonder/imagine what each person’s story is. So much is seen in our countenance, our body language, eyes, and the posture of our soul. I wonder what each traveler is leaving behind or headed to… what hints/clues to their story does their furrowed or furry brow tell? I note the wide range of smiles, styles, scowls, hairdo’s and don’ts, smirks and body shapes; their ”look”, accessories, their gait, weight, demeanor… it’s a virtual circus of lions and mice, glorious and broken… unfinished men posing and hiding; woman both beautiful and abused. Each one with a story and a wound… sometimes hidden, sometimes worn on our “sleeve”. We are a varied, odd, complex and beautiful species. So we’re wheels up and on our way. Is it just me or have you noticed the phenomenal of people changing over the course of a long international flight? Somewhere over the ocean we cross some portal… some seam, a contour, a line where something significant changes… it’s not the International Date Line, but some kind of a personality/character-time dilation-warp-speedo-change-eroonie thingamajig were people are transformed rather quickly. The 300 or so passengers leaving DC were by far your typical looking Americans. The gal across the aisle from me was a house wife from Winnemucca off to visit an old college friend living in Switzerland, the guy next to me … a loud businessman from Maryland intending to seal a deal in Geneva. At some point during my sleep aided nap we crossed that line and everything was different. The economy section was now the Hofbrauhaus, Munchen. It seems the whole plane was speaking German. They’d all morphed. The gal now looks like an alpine farm girl with a handkerchief pattern dress, braided hair and a hearty Béarnaise accent. Mr. Businessman now looks like an old world silver haired clock maker in a frazzled wool vest and wire rim glasses. It’s amazing. I was surprised no one was yodeling. I arrive in Zurich and spend the next nine days teaming with our Swiss allies in the adventure of launching the first Swiss German Boot Camp. It was fascinating, astonishing… wonderful, and life changing. A number of times I simply cried with the joy of witnessing the birth of something dangerous, wild and good in Europe. For over two years Ruedi, Peter, Hansjakob, Andrian and Gerd had been following God, investing blood, sweat and tears** in pursuit of the desire to awaken the hearts of Swiss and German men. Man did they! God came big time. I was so very proud of these men. They’re knuckleheads just like our team: a businessman, physical therapist, a teacher, chemist and a retired professor… and each living in a story far larger than they could have imagined a few years ago. Just like our team. God calls each of us to be someone we’ve never been… it’s who we truly are. God calls each of us to do something we’ve never done… it’s usually the very thing we’ve always wanted to do but never believed we could. It’s what we were made to do. Until we do it, it’s all talk… dreams, hopes… potential… “Woulda shoulda could’ves”. There comes a time when you gotta get up and get out on the dance floor. And as we leave the comfort of the chair, the security of the wide well traveled path for the unique path God has for us we’re changed. It’s some kind of a personality/character- God-authored-transformational-speedo-change-eroonie thingamajig. It’s God. Following Him we’re changed… dramatically at times. When I left Switzerland nine days later these men were different men. They’d been on the dance floor. They’d pursued their dream. They had a new look; countenance, an affirmed strength, a validated gifting, a tested and found true heart. Spring had come for them and they were full bloom. This wasn’t my fanciful imagination. Our Swiss friends became kings of a new domain, leaders in the Large Story of what God is doing in Europe. It’s was amazing. I heard angels yodeling. – Craig McConnell *Urban Dictionary definition of “People Watching”: 1.People watching is when u go around and watch people that u've never met before and, based on their actions, movements, and gestures, guess what kind of people they are and what they do.2.When people with no lives or losers who go out to watch people because they nothing better to do. ** They came to several of our Colorado Boot Camps, the Advanced Camp and flew out for a weekend given to conversation, prayer and developing our relationship. In our interactions, prayers and discussions there was a strong sense that God was orchestrating our relationship and this mission.
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Craig McConnell
Der Suisse Question
(I am in Switzerland with some friends/Swiss allies teaming together in presenting a Boot Camp. I’m hoping to post several reflections on this experience.) Throughout the Boot Camp men pulled me aside to tell me their varied stories. Each man genuine in his question, each in a horrible relationship or situation and every one of them, though bound in a shroud of unbelief, exercising some modicum of hope/faith by simply asking their question. The questions were all the same, “Is God enough?” “No, really, is God enough in THESE conditions, given THIS pain, and THIS heartless/unresponsive/emasculating person?” And they were looking to my eyes not my words for the answer. Somewhere in all the God-talk they'd heard along the way much had been left out. A man can live well. A man can know peace and joy; have a rich full life; play an enormous role in God’s story; live an adventure and pursue The Beauty in any and all circumstances and seasons. Largely untold are the profound promises of God to be our Strength, Comfort, Peace and Security, our Helper, Counselor, Friend and Lover. Their stories brought me to tears while, I hope, my eyes flamed their hidden hopes that such a life is, indeed, possible… available, free… here, now! My words spoke of The One True God, who is here and He is neither silent nor inactive… That He is a resting place, a Fortress… that He spreads an extravagant banqueting table before us in the midst of our enemies, and to know Him is to fall on your face with groanings too deep for words… and yet are heard by Armies of Angels as praise and adoration. Looking into His eyes I too am reassured. – Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Old Friends
I was looking for some reading the other day to feed my soul, to supplement my time in the Scriptures. Browsing the bookshelves in my office, I sort of picked up one book then another, opened it, read a little, and set it back down. Nope, that’s not what God has for me. I can’t altogether say why I knew. Partly because it fell flat; partly because I wasn’t interested. But over time you recognize that gentle prompting of the Holy Spirit. Here, this is what I am saying. I found myself moved to grab two books: No Little People (a collection of sermons by Francis Schaeffer) and God in the Dock (a collection of essays by C.S. Lewis). I hadn’t picked up either of these volumes in a long time. For Schaeffer it had been a very long time. Both have played a vital role at different points in my spiritual journey. They feel like old friends. Schaeffer was huge for me nearly thirty years ago, when I first became a Christian. I came to faith in Christ out of a very pagan background, and I wasn’t looking for a religion or a church. I was looking for the Truth. Schaeffer gave me a worldview, showed me how the truth of the Bible applied to every area of human culture. But he also gave me a beautiful understanding of “true spirituality” (the name of one of his books). Over time I moved on. I would recommend Schaeffer to thoughtful friends, but they didn’t seem to resonate with his philosophical approach. Anyhow, back to the moment. I was preparing to go on this whirlwind Tour we’ve been doing across the US, and stepping into it already tired from a Boot Camp and an Advanced retreat for men and many other projects. We had prayed hard about this schedule; I did not trust it at all. I’ve preached against busy-ness and drivenness (in a CD called The Spirit of the Age) and I hate that way of life. But over and over I felt Jesus say, “This is what I want you to do.” So I sit down, flip open Schaeffer to no place in particular, and begin reading. This is what my eyes fell upon: “Both the Scriptures and the history of the church teach that if the Holy Spirit is working, the whole man will be involved and there will be much cost to the Christian. The more the Holy Spirit works, the more Christians will be used in battle, and the more they are used, the more there will be personal cost and tiredness. It is quite the opposite of what we might first think. People often cry out for the work of the Holy Spirit and yet forget that when the Holy Spirit works, there is always tremendous cost to the people of God, weariness and tears and battles.” It was a consolation. There certainly have been weariness and tears and battles. The consolation was that this is part of the deal, part of what I signed up for when I gave my life to God, and when I asked to be used. The consolation was also Jesus saying, “You didn’t blow it; I asked you to do this. I am in this.” God used the words of this old friend (I had long ago underlined this passage) to speak to me what I needed to hear.
John Eldredge
Last Tuesday
So Lori tells me our daughter is bleeding. She’s 17 weeks pregnant 1276 miles away in The City of the Angels. My heart begins to swell. I call her and hear just beneath the surface of her always-joyful life giving voice the silver tongued devil’s fear. I mutter some words, give her my heart expressing my love, and enter the battle for my daughter and the baby in her womb. In the moment I hang up the phone I burst into tears. My father’s heart turns violent in storming the throne of grace so aware that I have nothing but my belief in a powerful, every-present good God. I’m a madman exercising every bit of faith I have… appealing to another Father’s heart for intervention. How little control we have over the most important things in life. Totally dependent, with swelling hope and desire I find myself over and over… a 180,000 times praying for Life… for my grandchild, for my daughter… for my family. The phone call comes. The doctor cannot find a heartbeat. And so there we are… now speechless, still and overcome with pain/loss. Still clinging to God but with a loosened grip while His grip has tightened. Death has such a sting… When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory." "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. – 1 Corinthians 15 Life will prevail. -Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Still in The Booth
I’m sitting in the sound booth through the second session of our Advanced Conference listening to John speak. At some point my mind wanders… I’m musing* about “teaching “and God nudges me asking, When did you enjoy teaching most? Immediately it was the college level theology courses I regularly taught at my church in LA. I’m grinning ear to ear enjoying the memories of waxing eloquent on Christology, Anthropology, and Harmitology… I’d hand out my 70 page syllabus chock full of enticing insights, perspectives, implications… oh, and a ton of footnotes noting alternative views with their pros and cons, rabbit trails, sources, exegetical notes etc. etc…. I loved it. It was thorough authoritative clarity on the cardinal doctrines of the faith… full of footnotes. And with big warm eyes and in the voice of a loving father God says, “Yeah… you were hiding” Pause. Silence. My smirky smile shifting to a furrowed brow, mouth open, questioning look. “You loved it so much because you “found” validation there. Your syllabus and footnotes was all about you answering your question about having something to say…. Your syllabus was your God” I remember while in seminary dreaming of getting a PhD. in theology. The “Queen of Sciences” as many refer to it. Doctor Craig McConnell would undoubtedly/unquestionably/most surely have something to say. Right? Wow… so 30+ years have passed since bone head greek and some of my best memories of teaching are being exposed as a godless quest for life… the abandonment of God and all He provides for the in-truth mousey affirmation of man. Footnotes! Footnotes were my broken cistern… my god, my mistress in hiding. I was feeling “it”… the shame of looking to footnotes over and instead of the self revealing, sovereign immutable, triune God …. Great… so I’m speaking to 433 men in 8 hours and I’m marveling at the times and places God “shows” up to deal with some issue of our soul. And then again I’m not surprised at all. He’s always present… longing to be our God. – Craig McConnell *(I’ve always viewed myself as a “pastor teacher” loving the ongoing influence my life has upon those “sitting” under my tutelage over time. It’s been one of the things I’ve missed doing most over the last several years)
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Craig McConnell