Be the LEAF!!

Posted: January 4, 2015 in fizzy faith
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My big stage debut was in a first grade play. It was a sweeping musical production about changing seasons.

I was a leaf.
It was not a speaking part.
I was a leaf.
That’s not as glamorous as a snowflake, that role went to the more graceful kids, it seems that snowflakes have to be graceful and coordinated.
Leaves do not.
I was a leaf.
It was pretty easy. I got to jump/fall out of the tree, that was the fun part.
But, then I got raked around on stage by the farmer (played by my overall clad friend, Terry Shipman).
My stage direction was pretty clear…fall and flop.
It was really the perfect role for me. It didn’t require any coordination or memorization.
I fell down…
I rolled around…
I nailed it!!
I WAS a leaf!

Since first grade I’ve learned a few things about leaves.
It turns out there is a CIRCLE of LEAF.
it looks something like this…
1. Leaves are produced by the tree.
2. Leaves are attached to the tree and live out on the limb.
3. Leaves give shade.
4. Leaves give life – they produce oxygen.
5. Leaves experience seasons. Each new season brings new expressions of beauty.
6. Leaves fall from the tree and die.
7. They get trampled on and become mulch (which is a very ugly word that sounds like an ugly sound effect)

That, my friends, is the CIRCLE of LEAF. That is the inevitable life span of a leaf. It is just the way it is…the way it has always been. Leaves live, die and become mulch.
The secret to their life is their attachment to the tree.

BUT…HOLD ON…WAIT A MINUTE…what if there was a little rebel leaf?
Imagine a little rebel leaf, who decided he really didn’t like the way it is…the way it has always been. He decided to change the CIRCLE of LEAF. he didn’t have a problem with items 1 through 5, but he hated items 6 and 7, the whole dying and mulching thing.
So he decided, “NO…I’m not gonna fall…I’m not gonna be mulch…HECK NO, I WON’T GO!!!…I’m not leaving (or LEAFING…HAR!) I’m staying! I’m clinging to this tree. If I leave the tree I will die. I will not die.”
The little rebel leaf breaks the CIRCLE of LEAF.

What does that have to do with us?
I think Jesus has invited us to be the rebel leaf.
Break the CIRCLE of LIFE.

Look at what he tells us…
“Abide in Me, and I will abide in you. A branch cannot bear fruit if it is disconnected from the vine, and neither will you if you are not connected to Me. I am the vine, and you are the branches. If you abide in Me and I in you, you will bear great fruit. Without Me, you will accomplish nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is like a branch that is tossed out and shrivels up and is later gathered to be tossed into the fire to burn. ” – John 15:4-6

Life…real life comes from abiding…from rebelling against going with the flow.
It comes from clinging to the tree and refusing to let go.
Stay attached…be the rebel leaf.
We are meant to live out on the limb.
We are meant to give soul shade and life.
We are meant to go through seasons, each with glorious new expressions of beauty.
We don’t have to become mulch.
We need to refuse to leave the tree.
Hang on for dear life…literally!
How do we break the CIRCLE of LEAF?

“If anyone is united with the Anointed One, that person is a new creation. The old life is gone – and see – a new life has begun!” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

Life…new life…quality life is all about getting attached to the Anointed One and leaning in.
Rebel against the old by becoming the new!
Find yourself by losing yourself in the tree…in the life of the one who beat death.
The rebel leaf…the new creation has broke the CIRCLE of LIFE by discovering new life!
Be the leaf…
Be the rebel leaf.

Snipe hunt

Posted: January 3, 2015 in brain belches
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There is a time honored rite of passage called the Snipe hunt. When I was about 12 years old, I got welcomed into the club.

I was on a camp out with the youth group from St. Henry’s Catholic Church. (I think St. Henry is the patron saint of men who smoke pipes.) we had backpacked, ate a large amount of canned beanie weenies and sat around campfires, farting and giggling. It was a memorable trip into the deep woods of north east Oklahoma. I don’t mind saying, We survived some pretty harsh conditions, we hiked for minutes, our tents flooded one night and we ran out of Vienna sausages. Then late one night, we were told by the older dudes that the conditions were perfect for a snipe hunt. Evidently, The perfect conditions were a moonless night and a bunch of gullible 7th grade boys. We were instructed that we were going to catch (and probably kill and possibly eat) the exclusive wild snipe. We were ready! We were MEN and we were ready for the hunt. Snipes were described to us as cross between a wild mongoose, a Pygmy goat & an electric eel. Needless to say we were horrified but we were men so we hunt…right?
We were given a musty burlap bag and 2 sticks and carefully worded instructions: The older guys would take us into the snipe hunting grounds and help us find the perfect spot. We were to stand there,expectantly, with our bag ready to snag a snipe. We also were told to bang the sticks together and make the snipe mating call, which sounded like this: “kissy kissy woooo!” The snipes would then run into our burlap bags. It sounded pretty easy…a little scary, but simple…right? So we did it. the older guys separated us and took us out and left us alone in the dark with a burlap bag making kissy noises. We waited and waited and waited. It was dark and scary. It’s really not fair, being 12 years old is already a really hard and confusing time. It’s even harder when you get left in the dark. There were weird completely unfamiliar outdoor noises. Then, when you were really creeped out and about to lose your mind the older jerks…I mean guys would sneak up on you and scare the crap right out of you. It was all a lot of fun…if you were an older guy. I was crouched in the dark with my burlap bag making kissy noises. I wasn’t a big fan of the dark at home, but in the woods I was consumed with wide eyed, crazy fear. Right about then, my friend, Arthur’s brother, Phil, snuck up and grabbed my leg. My finely tuned survival skills kicked in and I did what came primal. I had two sticks so I used them. I started beating the crud out of Phil with my sticks. He was yelling “LUKE…LUKE…IT’s ME!!!” I shouted back: “I KNOW!!” I still feel kinda bad about that, Phil was a really good guy.
Looking back there was something real cool about that night. It was scary and earthy and dark and mysterious. But waking up the next day we were different. We were in on the joke. We were part of the club. We packed up camp and hiked back to the station wagons waiting to take us home. We were older and wiser and manlier.
Now, Pass the beanie weenies.

Let’s get dirty!

Posted: January 2, 2015 in fizzy faith
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Recently we went to a race at a dirt track, it was awesome!! We were surrounded by some really fun people…lots of mullets and muscle shirts. We watched the cars slide around the track. As they did they kicked up ALOT of dirt. It got in our eyes and teeth, we were covered in it. It was seriously dirty fun!

There is an undeniable magic in dirt. It attracts us. We cultivate it and plant seeds in it…it gives us food. We dig in it. As kids we want to play in it. We make mud and sculpt it into wonderful things. I don’t think it’s accidental that we like to play in the dirt. Genesis 2:7 says “One day the Eternal God scooped dirt out of the ground, sculpted it into the shape we call human, breathed the breath that gives life into the nostrils of the human, and the human became a living soul.”
It turns out that God loves working with dirt.
The most common ingredient combined with the breath of God creates…
Art…
Wonder…
Soul…
US!

This is really good news because sometimes my efforts look like dirt.
Dirt happens…
God breathes…
LIFE is created!

The breath of God changes everything!
Give Him your dirt.

He breathes life into the dirt of our life…
Into the common.
He makes beautiful things out of dust.

The magic of a new year.

Posted: January 1, 2015 in brain belches
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When we were kids, we would spend every New Year’s Eve at our grandparents. All of the parents would drop the cousins off and we would party like 6 through 10 year olds…it would get crazy! We would eat cookies and popcorn. We would build forts from furniture. We would jump up and down for no apparent reason. We would listen to grandpa’s police scanner. Then, when it was getting late, around 8:30, we would gather in the living room for a talent show. My cousin, Gayla, did a marionette show. She had a very cool stage and she always did a great job. My cousin, Kayse, did some ballet. There were impressive professional wrestling exhibitions and home movies. I think there was a trained ferret once. There was an occasional ukulele or harmonica solo. I always did a…umm…magic show.

For a few years I got a magic kit for Christmas, the kind with…wait for it…24 real magic tricks!! This gave me a week to master the skills of illusion. This usually didn’t work out.
The problem was, it seems, that to master sleight of hand, you really need actual motor skills and discretion. I still can not shuffle a deck of cards, that makes card tricks a little…well…tricky! But, my obvious lack of skills didn’t stop me. I was hopeful. I had big dreams, I was going to be the next Houdini. I called myself the amazing Languini, because I thought it sounded mysterious and cool. I didn’t realize that I was calling myself a noodle. Nothing says mystifying like pasta.
Each New Year’s Eve I put on quite possibly the worst magic show ever. I remember trying to do the trick with the little red plastic vase and rope and never being able to do it right. The only thing I managed to pull out of my hat was lint. I poked myself in the eye once with my real store bought magic wand. Luckily for my self esteem I had some very supportive cousins. With each mediocre trick they gave me a new chance. “That last one was pretty rough, but let’s see what you got now…”

There is something so completely hopeful about a new year.
It’s freshly fallen possibility, untouched, unsmudged, pure potential.
You can pick it up and take it wherever you choose.
Technically, January 1st is just another day, right?
But there is something magical about it.
There is a strange magic in NEW.
The chance to start over…to begin again…a fresh start…a clean slate.
Last year was tough, but hey…you get a fresh start.
“That last one was pretty rough, but let’s see what you got now…”
It’s really good news…it’s the power of potential. Hit the restart button. It’s not too late.
It’s like every 365 days we get a Do-over. It’s a built in time for reflection and renewal.
There is power in pause.
Stop…What did I get right? What did I screw up? What is beyond my control? How can I start all over?
It’s strange magic…How can I make the ugly disappear and pull some new dreams out of my hat?
I love that new year smell…
Each new year smells like the spirit of do-over.
It’s downright magical

a prayer for 2015

Posted: December 30, 2014 in fizzy faith
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Father…

I want to walk in your favor and flavor.
I want to live out your story, all for your glory.
Jesus…
You are the King of me, reign in every part of my life.
I fix my eyes on you so that you can fix my eyes.
Help me see what really matters.
May I see people and situations the way that you do.
Holy Spirit…
Give me fresh faith and a fire in my gut.
Refill me…consume me.
Lead me into truth and beauty.
Work wonder in my life.
My God…
I give you this year, let your will be done.
Your joy is my strength.
Your peace is my anchor.
I love you.

the STRONGEST person I know…

Posted: December 29, 2014 in brain belches
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Who is the strongest person you know? I’ve met some pretty tough people, football players and fighters, pro wrestlers and soldiers. They were pretty impressive individuals, BUT, not the strongest person I know. I’ve even met Chuck Norris, he was a super cool guy, BUT, he wasn’t the strongest person I know.
The strongest person that I know is 4′ 11″, she sometimes walks with a cane and hangs out with a weenie dog named Stretch. It’s my mom, Marilyn Lang. She is the strongest person that I’ve ever met.
My dad was a tough guy, an all American MAN. He was John Wayne and Superman all wrapped up into one hairy package. He was tough, but he wasn’t as strong as my mom.
She was strong enough to beat the odds that everyone saw and the ones that nobody knew about.
The summer before she turned 8 she was diagnosed with polio. Her life would never be the same. It was often hard and painful. She was strong enough to beat polio, although, like Jacob in the Old Testament, her struggle left her with a limp. She was strong enough to live with the limp. True strength…real strength comes from living with weakness. What weakened her legs FOREVER strengthened her spirit.
She was strong enough to raise three kids, she birthed two and chose one (but, she did have labor pains the day my sister, Hope, was born 6,645 miles away).
She was strong enough to simply be herself and encourage her kids to do the same.
She was strong enough to, by her example, instill something in us that is unbreakable…a faith. By herself, she took…sometimes dragged…us to church. My brother, Mark, and I are ONLY in the business of changing lives because She was strong enough to change our lives.
She was strong enough to work hard at a school cafeteria, a bank and a pharmacy. Only to come home and work hard some more.
She was strong enough to get in the face of people twice her size if they were messing with the people she loved. Sometimes she even used a footstool to do this.
She was strong enough to love one man though good, bad and ugly. Then, just when things were getting beautiful, She was strong enough to carry on with life, when that man left the dance way too early.
She was strong enough to dance alone.
She was strong enough to make a new life.
She is strong enough to do the right thing, even when it wasn’t the easy or popular thing.
She is strong enough to tell the truth.
She is strong enough to love.
She is strong enough to forgive the hurters and the haters.
She is strong enough to dance like nobodies watching.
My little Mother is the biggest badass I know.
Life has thrown her some serious curveballs, sometimes it still does.
She will beat them.
She is just that strong.
Don’t mess with her.
She is THE strongest person I’ve ever known.

taste and see that the Lord is FIZZY.

Posted: December 29, 2014 in fizzy faith
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The last few years have introduced a trend that is both cool and kind of creepy. Some celebrities are making a comeback…sort of. We are hearing from entertainers that have…well…um…died. It’s nothing supernatural. It’s all technical. We have seen
holograms of Michael Jackson, Tupac, Elvis and Marilyn Monroe. All captured in their prime – dancing, singing, rapping, doing their thing again…in spite of the fact that they have actually left the building.
It looks pretty real. But, it’s just a little fuzzy.
It got me thinking, what if the Christian subculture capitalized on this? Someone could create a hologram of Rich Mullins or Keith Green. Can you imagine? It would be HUGE!!! There could be a big comeback tour probably sponsored by K-LOVE or Chick-Fil-A. They could fire up the magic hologram machine and sell lots of tickets. The hordes would sing along with the familiar songs, people would cry and talk about recapturing something that the modern church has lost. I would go! I loved both of those guys and their music was a very special part of my journey. It is a great memory! I’ve seen both of them in person, I remember them. But it’s been a while, so it might seem kind of fuzzy.
That’s the funny thing about memories…they get fuzzy. We forget that the past wasn’t perfect. We start thinking that the past was better than the present and less scary than the future.
We are constantly trying to recapture something that once was and we end up with fuzz.
Instead of recapturing something that once was, let’s contend for something that never has been.
It seems like God is up for it…
In Matthew 9:17 Jesus put it like this, “And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the old skins would burst from the pressure, spilling the wine and ruining the skins. New wine is stored in new wineskins so that both are preserved.”
New wine has fizz…not fuzz. That seems like our choice…fuzzy or fizzy.
Live in the past, everything is safe and really familiar yet a little FUZZY.
Live in the moment and taste and see that the Lord is FIZZY.
Live for a memory or live for a movement.
Don’t recapture fuzz when you can discover fizz.
Jesus is not a hologram. He is alive and real.
Jesus, whose first miracle was turning water into new wine, wants to pour out new wine into our lives and gatherings.
He wants to bring the fizz!
Let’s pop a cork.

‘Twas the day after Christmas…

Posted: December 26, 2014 in fizzy faith
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‘Twas the day after Christmas and all thru the apartment,
Not a triple A battery could be found in any compartment.
The gift wrap was trashed, the new socks thrown aside,
To look for electronics and a new Segway to ride.
In the air was the smell of deviled eggs and spoiled egg nog,
Clad in dirty PJs, Dad stumbled around in an apple pie induced fog.
The elf on the shelf silenced and boxed up for another year,
The leftover green bean casserole would soon disappear.
A stack of gift cards waiting to be spent.
The first toy already broken and bent.
When all the tinsel is gone, the true meaning is still here.
Hope is born, peace unleashed, love casts out fear.

Misfits and Magi.

Posted: December 23, 2014 in fizzy faith
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The cast of the Christmas story are a pretty diverse group, everything from farm animals to angelic host. There were even bedazzled mysterious Wise men. They were Influential men of means. They were dignified and they brought gifts! They were important enough that they got the attention of King Herod. They were VIPs, so it’s really not a surprise that these blinged out star gazers got invited to the first Christmas party. But they weren’t the first to get invited or show up. In fact, the wise men were fashionably late to the party. They didn’t meet sweet little baby Jesus in a manger. They, probably, showed up after a year or two after the Nativity and met sweet little TODDLER Jesus. That is just proof that when God shows up the party can go on for a while!

The first to get an invite were…brace yourself… a bunch of smelly sheep herders!

WHAAA? What will the neighbors think?!

Shepherds were the first to hear about the Savior!

Shepherds were burly, socially awkward outsiders.

They lived their lives like gypsies or carnival workers.

They sure didn’t get invited to parties!

They were the overlooked and overworked. They were the minimum wage workers who did the dirty work.

They lived on the fringes…with sheep. (Have you ever smelled a sheep? It’s nasty. Ever tried to carry on a conversation with sheep? It’s awkward.)

The shepherds never got invited to parties. They were never welcome at big, important events.

They would screw things up. They would do or say the wrong thing. They smelled like sheep. They were a walking talking social faux pas. They were simply not welcome.

YET…these are the first ones to get the message from heaven

The Savior is here…there is reason to celebrate…AND…

YOU ARE INVITED.

This was probably the first party they got invited to.

The BIGGEST news of ALL time was delivered for the FIRST time…in a pasture!

The BIG news was not delivered to BIG people, not the high and mighty, politically powerful, rich and famous…it was delivered to the disenfranchised…the last and the least.

Then it filtered its way UP…God is backwards like that!

I think inviting the shepherds was God’s way of thumbing His nose at man-made social rules and expectations.

“For God so loved the WORLD.”

that seems pretty clear.

The kingdom is for shepherds and wise men, homecoming queens and wallflowers, freaks and geeks, insiders and outsiders, rebels and rogues, the popular and the polarized….

“Every kindred, every tribe on this terrestrial ball”.

It’s for pretty much EVERYbody. You AND that guy that you don’t agree with.

The Kingdom of God is wide open.

The velvet rope has been torn down, trampled on and thrown out.

It’s a party for you, me and that guy over there…

The Savior is here…there is reason to celebrate…AND…

YOU ARE INVITED.

Don’t miss it!

that’s the story of…that’s the glory of LOVE.

Posted: December 22, 2014 in fizzy faith
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I have a rather serious confession to make that might cost me a punch on my man card. During this holiday season I’m pretty sure that I have watched 87 Hallmark Christmas movies. It’s not that I’m a big fan of festive romantic comedies, my tastes run more towards something with zombies or Stormtroopers. But, my wife enjoys romance movies. I enjoy my wife. I really enjoy just spending time with her, so we watch movies with titles like: “Straight from Somewhere near the Heart”, “Love Comes with Some Assembly Required”, “Monster Trucks and Mistletoe” and the ever popular “A Spleen Transplant for Christmas”.

After watching approximately 174 hours of this Noel niceness, I’ve figured out that most of these stories are pretty similar in storyline.

There is a girl (played with a great deal of seriousness by a former child star). She has her life all figured out. (School/promising career/ predictable, very successful boyfriend). But then, usually through a comic mishap, girl meets boy (he’s the free spirit with no visible means of support. He has dreamy eyes, a flannel shirt and a heart of gold) at first, they don’t get along at all (that’s how you know that they are perfect for each other).

There is usually a dog, nosy best friend or adorable child involved, and since it’s a holiday movie, sometimes there is an actual angel trying to help them make a love connection.

Just when it seems like they are about to hook up, there is a crazy misunderstanding. The boy overhears something or the selfish EX comes back into the picture. The boy decides to take off and sacrificially move across the country. He doesn’t want to stand in the way of the girl’s happiness. Little does he know that HE is the secret to her happiness!

The angel or dog or nosy best friend works extra hard to get them back together. THEN…at the last minute, when it seems like all hope is lost, the boy demonstrates his unconditional love by going to great lengths.

And…BOOM…love conquers all!

it’s all set to a soundtrack of schmaltzy Christmas music.

I gotta confess, even with a lack of explosions, I have secretly enjoyed watching these movies.

There is something undeniably attractional about a movie about attraction.

Maybe it’s because that’s how we were wired. We were designed to be a part of a love story.

the script was written by a Creator that is so completely smitten with His creation that He is willing to go to any lengths to prove His love.

“For God so LOVED the world that He gave…”

The Christmas story is the greatest, CRAZIEST love story EVER.

Think about it, in a small town, there was this sweet, innocent girl named Mary. She has her life all figured out. It’s all very predictable, she is going to marry her fine, upstanding, business owner fiancée, Joseph. They will settle down, raise some honor students and live a safe, reputable life. But then, girl meets Holy Spirit and everything gets turned upside down. There is an actual angel involved. There is a crazy misunderstanding between her and Joseph…”you’re WHAT?” Joseph decides to listen to the angel and sacrificially takes Mary across the country. Little does he know that baby is the secret to EVERYBODY’s happiness!

God demonstrates his unconditional love by going to great lengths.

And…BOOM…love conquers all.

Christmas is the celebration of the single greatest act of crazy love ever!

The meaning of Christmas is inclusion by means of incarnation.

It is a divine wooing…a holy invitation…the Creator’s kiss.

The only response to a love so strong is surrender.

You were made for Him.

Throw yourself into His arms.

Lose yourself in a love that won’t be denied…a love stronger than death.

A love that conquers all.

That’s the story of…

That’s the glory of love.

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