carbonated joy

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages…

step right up and change your lives!

Step inside Dr. Love’s traveling exposition of wild wonder…

It’s not for the faint of heart! It’s an unparalleled adventure! It’s the story of Dr. Love, who came from a faraway unbroken place…a world of wonder. As He traveled throughout Big Top, He gathered His own circus. It was comprised of a band of human curiosities, a tribe of misfits that found hope, truth, belonging and wonder. For everywhere that Dr. Love went He unleashed wild wonder! This is that truly true fantastical tale!

Once upon a time there was a good and kindhearted Ring Master who loved laughter and dance and color and magic and mystery. But most of all, the ring master loved his children of all ages. So he created a special place for them. He created Big Top as a place to amaze and amuse His children of all ages. It was a beautiful place full of vibrant color and happy music. There was laughter and dancing. Everything smelled like cotton candy. It was a wonderful place and time.

But the Ring Master had an evil and cruel enemy, an evil boss clown. He hated the Ring Master and he wanted to steal the joy and kill the wonder in Big Top. He used sleight of soul to deceive the children of all ages. He tempted and tricked the citizens of Big Top and they turned their back on the Ring Master. He had promised a three ring party but it was all a lie. Instead of life he brought pain, fear and brokenness. Big Top was broken (along with the Ring Master’s heart) Innocence was lost, the colors weren’t as bright, the music lost its rhythm, the laughter faded. The evil boss clown had all the citizens of Big Top in his grease paint stained grip. They were his slaves; He forced them to be a part of his twisted carnival. The people were controlled like chickens forced to dance on a hot plate.

But…There was still beauty in Big Top and the Ringmaster had a plan. He would send the simply astonishing Dr. Love to bring the circus back to town. Whatever Dr. Love touched would regain its original, unbroken beauty. Dr. Love brought a new circus to town, a circus without chains, a circus of freedom, joy and wonder.

Ladies and gentlemen…LET THE BIG SHOW BEGIN!

The barker was dressed in the clothes of a common carny, a musty red velvet coat, a tattered green vest, plaid pants that were more patch than pant, fingerless wool gloves and a derby that had certainly seen better days. He had wild eyes and a scruffy beard. He was unkempt and untamed and, some would said, a little unhinged. He smelled like freedom and an old tuna sandwich. The barker wandered about Big Top armed with an old megaphone and a message. He would wait until he had a crowd and then the barker would clear his throat and shout “I offer an elixir for the soul, but Dr. Love will give you life itself!”

It was about that time that Dr. Love took his show on the road. He hitched up a colorful wagon to a small, yet sturdy albino donkey named Phineas. He took off traveling slowly from town to town. His first stop was to see the Barker. The Barker was standing on a wooden box in front of a crowd of people. He was making wild, animated gestures with his hands and telling stories of hope. Dr. Love left Phineas and the cart behind and walked through the crowd. The barker stopped mid-sentence, gasped, and stuttered “G-G-Galloping locusts! It’s you!!” Dr. Love grinned and chuckled. He grabbed the Barker’s shoulder and said “it’s time my friend! Let’s unleash the wonder!” The barker, who for seemingly the first time in his life was speechless, said “but…” Dr. Love cut him off “c’mon, do it cuz!” With trembling hands, the Barker reached in his tattered vest pocket and pulled out a small gold medal with an engraved symbol of a burning heart. It was attached to a bright purple ribbon. He put it around Dr. Love’s neck and then he humbly bowed. Suddenly the booming voice of the Ringmaster cut through the stillness of the moment…”Ladies and Gentlemen, My children of all ages…THE MAIN EVENT”.
Rather than stick around for applause and accolades, Dr. Love cut away from the crowd and went down a dark, lonely alley. It was there that he encountered the boss clown and his twisted clown alley. Four of the clown minions grabbed Dr. Love and threw him into a big steel mesh sphere; it was called the Globe of Death. Dr. Love calmly stood in the center of the sphere as clowns on loud motorcycles started circling around him. They got within inches of him and were shouting out unbelievably crass clown curses. Dr. Love just stood there, clutching his burning heart medallion and remembering who he was. The clown boss let out a chilling laugh and said, “Well, well…Good Doctor, welcome to my carnival of fear and hate. Step right up and all this can be yours! We can be partners…together, we can rule the circus.” Dr. Love looked him in his bloodshot eyes and replied, “beat it clown!” the boss clown recoiled, as if slapped, and spit out “this isn’t the last you’ve seen of me!” then…suddenly…he was gone, along with the evil clown alley and the globe of death. Only Dr. Love remained and he took a moment to bask in the approval of the Ringmaster.

As he traveled, Dr. Love started putting together a troupe. One day, he was taking Phineas and the wagon down a quiet patch of beach when he encountered a strongman. The strongman was strutting around the shore carrying heavy barbells trying to impress everyone. He was making grunty noises and accidently kicking sand in everyone’s faces. He certainly looked the part, from the outside. He was big and burly. He had some really rough edges and a gift for the inappropriate. But inside he was soft and confused. He desperately wanted to be the BIG man and get respect and popularity. He had spent his life trying to measure up, but he always came up short in the social circus. He had great intentions, but he would always end up saying or doing something stupid. He would embarrass himself and his family. He saw Dr. Love and started lifting a bar bell and said “…412…413…414.” Dr. Love giggled and said “oh strongman, true strength only comes through surrender.” Dr. Love rubbed his chin, grinned and spoke the words that would change the life of the strongman: “Join me in the ways of wonder! Run away and join my circus!” the strong man didn’t hesitate…he dropped everything to run off and join the circus.

A little further on, they saw two brothers, Alonzo and Gonzo, riding a tilt-a-whirl with their dad. Dr. Love made them the same offer. They immediately left everything, including the tilt-a-whirl and their slightly nauseous father, and ran off with the circus.

Dr. Love and his little troupe went to town. He stopped and talked to the people, but he was interrupted by angry gargling noises. It was a man with an evil clown hanging on his back. The clown was hanging on by a crude headlock and was whispering ugly lies to the man. It was causing great pain and confusion, not to mention the clown had incredibly foul breath. The clown made a strange gargling sound and started to say something, but, Dr. Love cut him off and said “beat it clown!” the evil clown shrieked and hopped off the man. The defeated clown scuttled down the street like a scared spider monkey. Every few feet, it tripped over its big clown shoes. The citizens of Big Top were amazed and astonished.

It was about then that Dr. Love ran into the Alligator Man. the Alligator Man had a seriously itchy problem and a love for Cajun food. He didn’t get invited to any parties because he looked like a walking handbag. People were afraid to touch him or even talk to him because they might catch his condition. He was tired of living like this and he had heard tales of wonder. He shuffled up to Dr. Love and he said in a desperate, raspy voice; “if you want to, you can fix me…” Dr. Love smiled and grabbed his face and replied, “OH…I WANT TO!” instantly wonder ruled the day as people saw something they had never seen before. The alligator man was suddenly unbroken. He and Dr. Love went and ate some gumbo together.

The flying burrito brothers and their rooftop acrobatics were legendary. They could do truly astonishing things. They would fly on swings, trapezes and occasionally ceiling fans. They weren’t actually brothers, just five REALLY good friends who, by sheer coincidence, had the same last name. Their first names were Bobby, Buddy, Billy, Bucky and Ernesto. Ernesto couldn’t join in on the act. He was paralyzed from a fall when he was very young. Since then Bobby, Buddy, Billy and Bucky had taken care of him. They did everything to make sure that he realized he was still a part of the act, but Ernesto desperately wanted to fly like a burrito again. The “brothers” heard stories about Dr. Love. They heard that everywhere he went he unleashed wonder and that he did things that no one had ever seen. They thought if only we can get Ernesto to Dr. Love, maybe he could help him. They carried him to the ragged Circus tent where Dr. Love was telling stories of hope and wonder. The air was thick with anticipation and the smell of slightly burnt popcorn. They walked through the flaps, but the tent was really crowded and they couldn’t go much farther. People were pressing into Dr. Love. There was no way to carry Ernesto through the crowd. So they did what any real friends, with trapeze skills, would do, they carried their friend to the top of the tent. Then they put him in a net and lowered him through the air with the greatest of ease. They set him down right in front of Dr. Love. Dr. Love, who was very impressed by the boldness of the Burritos, bent down and grabbed Ernesto’s hand. He said “Ernesto, you are unbroken…inside and out…stand up and fly like you were born to!” Ernesto jumped up and shouted “TA DA!!!” then he started doing back flips and really astonishing jumps!

The Ringworm brothers were lurking about. They were five brightly dressed, yet completely unhappy brother who WERE actually brothers. They owned the circus tents and equipment so they felt like this gave them the right to make rules and bully the circus people. The circus had been in their family for so long that they had forgotten what it was like NOT to own the circus. They prided themselves on the circus being a family business, their family! And so they were naturally very jealous of Dr. Love and they were afraid of anything new. They started grumbling and talking amongst themselves…”Dr. Love is a fake…who does he think he is…the true Ring master would never do that…he isn’t part of our family…he’s messing up everything that we have worked so hard for!”

All this talk didn’t bother Dr. Love at all. He was having way too much fun! He spent his days inviting children of all ages to the circus. Most of the time that involved simply hanging out, eating a lot of corn dogs, drinking root beer and telling stories. A bunch of misfits, outcasts, renegades and rebels joined the circus. They were loud and wildly inappropriate.This greatly disturbed the Ringworm brothers…“hmmppphh! He hangs out with the worst kind of people…the scum of the circus!” The Ringworm brothers were constantly trying to make the circus all about rules and regulations. But, Dr. Love’s circus was all about the wild things that you can’t regulate…wonder …joy…love…laughter. Dr. Love overheard the criticism, sighed and shook his head, “fresh wonder can’t be contained in your tired, old, man-made boxes…it’s got to be allowed to run free and wild.”

As Dr. Love journeyed through the land in a colorful wagon, his troupe was growing. It was made up of every shape, color and size of human curiosity. Dr. Love celebrated their differences. That is what made them interesting. It was a kaleidoscope of humanity. Some of them had seedy and sketchy stories, they had made mistakes. Some of them had spent their lives trying to be good enough, but never achieving it. They all came together under the same circus tent. When they joined the circus, it was like they redefined themselves. They became new. They were part of something much bigger than themselves…they were walking, talking trophies of grace and wonder in Dr. Love’s traveling exposition of wild wonder.

In my life I’ve been a partaker of the unexplainable.
I’ve seen the sacred and the strange.
I’ve witnessed the marvelous and the miracle.
I have tasted the undeniable, uncontrollable, unexplainable REAL.
It’s broken out in the unlikeliest places and I liked it.
I’ve seen blind eyes see with my one good eye.
I’ve watched lame feet dance to a brand new rhythm.
I’ve heard the mute speak in tongues.
I’ve walked into Holy fire that consumes and brings beauty from ashes.
I’ve fallen prostrate in a place of tangible mystery where awe takes its rightful place, a place that no words can adequately capture. It is a field that can never be fenced, but I can run and frolic to my hearts content.
I’ve seen a place of wonder where Spirit becomes both noun and verb.
It has left me with a perpetual hunger for more, a craving for the things of the Spirit that cannot be denied, controlled, or explained.
I long, with the deepest part of me…
To be Spirit stained…
To be Spirit saturated.
I close my eyes, hold my breath and I trust fall into strong arms that I can’t see…
Holy Spirit, I like you.
Can you come out and play today?
Can we get into some holy mischief?
Can we do something…
Undeniable…
Uncontrollable…
Unexplainable?

A while back there was a Revolutionary war reenactment at a historical site near our home. It was living history on display. A middle aged militia gathered on the field of battle. During the week, these brace souls were bankers, teachers and real estate agents. On the weekend, they were patriots or loyalists. They assembled to resurrect a long resolved rebellion. The reenactors had studied all the finest details of the skirmish. They knew all the facts of the fight. They recreated it all in brilliant, intricate detail. They dressed the part with dusty tricorn hats and buckled shoes (both of which were very uncomfortably fashionable in the 18th century). They shot homemade muskets, and lived in tents for the weekend. It was all very loud and impressive. But, at the end of the day, when the gunpowder settled, there was no surprise. Everybody knew the ending. There was serious drama, but, nothing had changed. I wasn’t sure if the guys portraying the losing army were hoping for a different outcome, but if we recreate history the outcome is always predetermined. So they are left to fight the same fight over and over.

That’s fine.
It was very interesting.
But, sometimes real life becomes one long war reenactment.
We fight the same fight over and over.
We stir up the sludge of the past and we refuse to move on or let go.
We study all the details. It’s not hard to review the memories, they are seared into our psyche. We carefully memorize offense, we revisit rejection, and we rehearse revenge with great detail.
We reenact.
We relive.
We fight the same fights over and over again in our personal and professional lives.
Our pain stained battlecry is “You hurt me, you offended me, I can’t forget that.”
Sometimes the fight gets no farther than our head and our heart. Our opponent isn’t even aware of the struggle. That doesn’t make the collateral damage any less real.
When we reenact the same old fights, the outcome is always predetermined.
There is serious drama, but nothing changes.
Maybe it’s time to assemble the troops, because it looks like the militia have a decision to make.
Reenact OR recreate?
We can choose to relive history or make history. It’s the difference between a rerun and a revolution.
We can reenact.
We can continually live out a ever repeating life loop. But, Revolution is not ignited by repetition.
Stop the reenactment!
It’s to lay the homemade weapons down
It’s time for…
The most disarming of words…
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness is the ultimate revolutionary act.
Forgiveness…
Can you imagine?
It turns things upside down.
It sets things free.
It refuses to fight the same fights over and over.
It recreates.
We can forgive.
We can recreate.
Why in the world would we want to live in the midst of a perpetual fight?
Let’s refuse to be reenactors of conflict.
Let’s be recreators of peace!
Let’s fly the flag of forgive.
Let’s be the ones who proclaim…
The revolution will not be repeated.

Do you remember Valentine’s day in elementary school?
It was a big deal.
You would carefully craft a beautiful box with paper and Elmer’s glue. Then you probably decorated it with paper hearts and glitter.
You would proudly put it out on your desk, hoping that it would fill up with cards that reassured you that someone actually likes you.
We hungered for paper affirmation, hopefully with a heart shaped sucker attached.
You wanted the construction paper heart with two simple words scrawled in crayon…BE MINE.
We all want to be loved.
Then in middle school, the student council would sell cheap carnations the first two weeks of February. For a dollar, you could publicly proclaim your passion. On Valentine’s Day the student council officers would deliver the color coded fundraiser flowers to your home room.
White carnations meant “I like you as a friend”. A red carnation meant “I LOVE YOU and, even though we are only 11 years old, we are SURELY meant to be together FOREVER!”
OH MAN!! I wanted a red carnation!!
You patiently sat at your desk, waiting as the elected dispensers of carnation cheer would pass out their flowers.
Everybody got to see who was loved, liked or left out.
There was always that one person who got 20 carnations, while your desk sat empty. (At least mind did)
You tried to act like it wasn’t bothering you (at least I did), but inside a part of you was dying.
We all want to be loved.
Then you grow up and realize that sometimes love stinks.
We have all felt alone…we just want someone to say two simple words…be mine.
We wonder…
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
Sometimes our paper hearts get stomped on, sometimes it seems like we are alone and Valentines Day comes along and rubs our “aloneness” in our face.
The crazy thing is that the deepest desires of ours can’t be met by another person, by an imperfect love…we need a love extravagant.
At the risk of sounding hallmarky, the One who crafted your heart longs to hold your heart.
He calls you beloved.
He loves you with a love extravagant…
A crazy little thing called love.
I know that love…
It has captured me, it has set me free.
I have been wooed by an uncontainable and unexplainable love…a love that accepts and arrests me…a love that gives…a love that constantly whispers “Be Mine” to my insecure soul.
A love that finally equips me to love others.
We all want to be loved.
It all boils down to that simple invitation to be known, to be loved, to be HIS.
Listen deep….your heavenly Father says to you two simple words…be mine!
We all want to be loved.
It turns out that we are.
Be loved!
You aren’t alone…you were NEVER alone!
The One who created you, who has memorized everything about you, calls you beloved.
You are greatly loved with a love extravagant.
So…
Be His!!
Be LOVED!!

“Consider the kind of extravagant love the Father has lavished on us—He calls us children of God! It’s true; we are His beloved children.” – 1 John 3:1

Dear sweet grandchild of mine…
I can’t wait to meet you!
You will soon be the new kid in town.
I can’t tell you why, but I get a peaceful easy feeling every time I think that we are taking you home one of these nights.
Your GiGi is pretty excited, all she wants to do is dance with you.
We will show you off at the sunset grill in a New York minute.
We won’t even mind doing your dirty laundry.
The heart of the matter is that love will keep us alive as we take it to the limit.
Ice capades, amusement parks and tea parties, we are gonna live life in the fast lane, like a couple of desperadoes, and the end of the innocence will be no where in sight.
I can’t wait.
Big Papi

Home…
Home is a happy word.
At least it should be.
Home is supposed to be a word that smells like fresh baked cookies, a word that hugs, a word that wraps you up like an old quilt and warms you. Home is a word originally designed to sound like a sweet, familiar song that soothes your soul.
Home is meant to be a wide open word, an ever expanding word, always ready to set another place at the table. It is a word that breathlessly runs to meet the friend, the stranger, the outcast, the prodigal and says “I’m SO glad you are here!”
Home is a word meant to be shared.
It’s a word that should be more about generosity than geography.
Home was always meant to be a happy word.

Ten years ago TODAY we landed in North Carolina. We had packed everything we owned into a u-haul truck and our Scion clown car and we moved across the country, Diana, Delanie, me and our two beagles (one of which was handicapped).
We left Texas in the rear view mirror, and we ain’t been back. (That REALLY sounds like a line from an old country song!)
As with any new start, We left behind friends and failure, story and celebration.
The last few years in Texas had been really hard. But, tough times don’t last forever.
We felt beat up and beat down, we felt done.
It was clearly time for a do-over. Fortunately, God does do-overs! Everything changed with one phone call from our friend, Angela. She invited us to discover Durham. She was opening an office and wanted Diana to join in the adventure. That is why we moved to North Carolina. We had visited, but we really didn’t think we would ever live there. By this time, as a family, we had lived in Virginia (it IS for lovers, you know!), Oklahoma, Indiana (for a brief moment in time), Oklahoma AGAIN, and ALL over the Republic of Texas.
I remember as we got closer to the East coast we saw something we hadn’t seen in a while…trees. Delanie rolled her eyes every time we gushed about the foliage.
Speaking of trees, we learned that you can’t have too many roots, and it’s never too late to put down more.
We planted some new roots.
When we moved, I didn’t have anything job wise lined up in NC. I was leaving a really cool church plant and a semi promising telemarketing career behind, I was finishing up a book and I was pretty sure I would soon be a full time, bestselling author. (Now two books later, I’m still waiting for THAT to happen!). I ended up working at a fun park with some really amazing high school and college students who taught me a whole lot.
I got my first tattoo in Raleigh (and my second and my third).
I was the editorial cartoonist for the Raleigh newspaper, that was a cool dream come true.
We were smitten with the state, so much history, so much beauty. We were a few hours away from the mountains OR the beach!! It’s ALSO a great place to live if you are a sports fan! We went to Hurricanes Hockey games, Bulls baseball games AND we sit through EVERY Angels softball game, those were our favorites…Delanie played for the Angels. She was a fantastic catcher.
Durham was a tough time for Del, she was a middle schooler in a new town. But, tough times don’t last forever.
After two and a half years, we moved to Charlotte.
I started a wild adventure as a 44 year old middle school pastor.
We reunited with some incredible friends, and we have made a bunch of new friends and picked up some new family members along the way.
We discovered NASCAR!!
We became big Panthers fans (even when they aren’t winning).
God has set us up with a house and a yard.
We can’t wait to see what the next ten years hold.
More joy, more stories, more art.
AND a new little human to share it all with!!!
Our first grandchild will make her public appearance in a few months in North Carolina.
We have now officially lived in the Tar Heel State longer as a family more than anywhere else.
Our roots go deep and they go wide and now they have the unmistakable tint of Carolina blue.