5:30 AM Dad knocks on my door and says “It’s 5:30” (which you already knew, but I didn’t, at the time) I mutter something incoherent and grab for the toothbrush in the bag by the bed.

6:15 AM Having swung by my brother’s house to pick him up, we stop at a covered gas station to rearrange the stuff in the bed of the truck without the “help” of the chilling, driving rain.

7:03 AM We complete the first three-sentence verbal exchange of the day, between the three of us. Subject matter? The I-40 bypass around Greensboro, and the relative merits of each route.

8:49 AM I decide to give up in the quest to keep from nodding off in the passenger seat, but realize that comfortable seating and three full-grown males in a Dodge Ram are mutually exclusive concepts.

11:39 AM I come to the crushing realization that Nags Head, NC (population 7,000 in a heavy day, plus some tourists) has far better cell phone reception than Asheville, NC (population 50,000 on the worst day this quarter-century, plus some tourists). I bitterly take it out on AT$T via a passive aggressive Tweet at 11:40.

11:51 AM A Mexican Pizza and two soft tacos are involved. No further details are available for the public, until next-of-kin and physicians can be notified.

12:53 PM After meeting up with my uncle and cousin, we drop our luggage off at the Breakwater Inn. I make the mistake of asking if there is a “fitness center” here. I’ll be walking on the beach to stay in shape.

2:33 PM I get up the guts (pun intended) to hurl the fish bait attached to my line as hard as I can into the surf. It immediately becomes apparent how poor of a decision that is, when the line snaps, sending the 4 ounce weight, rigging, and bait sailing well beyond the breakers.

2:40(ish) PM Some unsuspecting fish gets a fancy lip ring that is unfortunately no longer attached to my reel.

5:00 PM I inadvertently hum an Aaron Neville song out loud, and feel the need to toss my man card into the ocean.

6:20 PM Having packed up the slightly fewer than 1 fish we caught and dropped the gear off at the Breakwater, we find ourselves in “Pop’s Raw Bar” (where bikers and 4x4s are welcomed, according to the sign) enjoying some amazing seafood and second-hand smoke.

7:30 PM I sit down to the laptop back at the Breakwater to find that, to my surprise, “The Fisherman’s Quarters” next door has Wi-Fi. This post is the immediate result.

Here’s hoping we catch some fish tomorrow. Or that I get this Aaron Neville song out of my head. Either would be considered success.

Here’s the thing about perseverance:  It takes a while.

I want the non-existent concept of instant obedience.  I say to God, “OK, I’ve checked the box marked ‘experience emotional strain and pain from a precariously low bank account and trust God to provide’ and now I’d like to move on to the box marked ‘experience the joy of giving out of an abundance.’”

But that’s not how persevering in difficult times works.  This whole deal isn’t written like the script of a sit-com.

God is concerned about the end of this process, and people joining our team of financial partners. But right now he’s most concerned that we continue to run to the gospel even in the midst of this stuff.

What am I running toward?  Why do I want to raise over $2000 in monthly support?  The Bible says that “for lack of vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18 King James Version) and I can definitely relate to that.

Unless there is a compelling picture in my mind of why the heck I am doing this—all the phone calls and appointments and initiating with strangers about their wallet and it’s contents—I’d surely stop.

Here’s the thing, though: God is concerned with the process of raising support just as much as he is concerned with the outcome of getting the support in and going on campus to impact students.  After all, he’s God, he could raise the support in 15 minutes.  So the fact that He isn’t tells me that there is something bigger out there than the dollars.  God isn’t just monetizing this thing with the support raising process.  He’s got some things he needs to tell us and work in us that require this angst-ridden (at worst) or uncomfortable (at best) context of “ministry partner development.”

God is a King, not a president.  His system is kingdom, not capitalism.  The end goal is no longer the dollars.  The compelling vision that keeps me on the phone (when I have enough contacts to call *cough*Prayer Request*cough*) is that He is sovereign, and has clearly, repeatedly, called me to this ministry.  I am more passionate than I have ever been about what God is doing on the college campus, and in and through students there.

As always, at the end of posts like this, I feel compelled to give you the opportunity to respond with your wallet.

I was driving today, listening to conservative talk radio (because it’s as funny as Jon Stewart during the Bush years) and all the flailing and panicking and minor-key interludes that accompany advertisements for reseeding packets and buying gold.  Then, I turned off the radio, and looked over the tops of the brilliantly colored red and yellow leaves to notice a hawk flying high on a background of white, wispy clouds.

Despite what is clearly an attack on our way of life, and the worst economic meltdown of the century, and the rise of fascist dictatorships, and eminent inflation, and the end of life as we have known it, and the rolling over of the founding fathers in their graves (according to the show I had just turned off), it was strangely peaceful.

Almost as if God is not worried.

Almost as if the designer of the beautiful leaves and amazing blue sky didn’t stop painting and creating long enough to fret about his kids worrying and thinking he’d left the throne.

God is so worried that he started painting.  Maybe we should take that hint.  We Christians ought to be so vexed and perplexed that we start singing.  The tomb is empty.

This is a quote that rocked me to the core last week.  It’s something Tim Keller references in his study Gospel Christianity 101 (which you should immediately purchase, read, and use as the curriculum at your small group)  He quoted Richard Hays from his book The Moral Vision of The New Testament:

God’s… invasion of the world has wrought an inversion: God has reversed the positions of insiders and outsiders.  Those who are in positions of authority and privilege reject Jesus and the message.  However, people of low or despised position in the social world of first-century Jewish culture receive the gospel gladly, for their need is great… Those familiar with the story should not  under-estimate the shock of this inversion.

It’s a great quote.  It’s not something terribly new to me, but what rocked me this time as I was reading it is the harsh realization that in my church, in my ministry, and in my life I consistently become an insider.  In fact, at times it is my primary goal. I get a new teaching, or a new way of doing things, and I make and “inside” and an “outside.”  I’m always an insider, scratching and clawing my way to be recognized, applauded, and accepted by the other “insiders.”

The gospel alone forces me to admit being an outsider.  But once I am out in the cold, with no way of saving myself, that same gospel shows me (and in some mysterious way gives me) a righteousness that is unshakable.

May God continue to push us out into the cold, lest we believe the compelling lie that there’s something we did (or can do) to save ourselves.

Emma (niece) needed a break after what appears to be a painting session.  It was great seeing family this past week!

I have a confession.

I love raising support.  I know, it’s strange.  How totally and completely un-American.  To ask people to contribute money to our ministry, so that we get paid, is so counter-cultural.

But as we have been doing it full time these past few weeks, I have noticed that being forced to ask people for money also forces me to depend on others, and sheds light on my fierce anti-Christian self-dependence.

So, while I don’t always enjoy the phone calls, or constantly initiating with folks, I do cherish the reminder that I am not in control.  Apart from Christ, I am a wreck looking for a place to happen.  But in Him I have all I’ve ever needed.

What a treat to have a job that forces on a regular basis to deal with my junk.

The other night at the Derek Webb concert I had a blast. Very few artists can make me think like he can. His perspective on life is amazing.

I think my favorite song on his new album (which he plays ALL of at the show) is “The Spirit and the Kick Drum.” It is a resounding call to the church, all caught up in our sound and lights worship services, to remember that we are not the point. The three lines that stick out from the song, and form the frame onto which each verse is woven:

I don’t want the Spirit, I want a kick drum.

I don’t want the Son, I want a jury of peers.

don’t want the Father, I want a vending machine.

What is it that we want out of Christianity? Do we want God, so that he can give us something else, like health or money? Or do we see HIM as the blessing of the gospel?

How often, if I am honest, I look to what God is holding out in his hand to me, and miss the point that it is the sight of God’s hand at which I ought to marvel.

So, I got a guest post over at “Stuff Christians Like” which is the Christian-blogical equivalent of me suiting up and snagging Kobe’s starting spot. (or at least John Paxson’s spot on the ‘93 Bulls.  Who’s with me?)

With a guest post of such magnitude, I thought I’d take a second here on my blog to introduce myself, with the overt desire of persuading several dozen of you to become regular readers.

I’m Ben.  Not to be confused with Little Ben, who is far cuter.  Most of the stuff you experience on the blog was posted by me.  My beautiful wife Jacqueline (Jacq for short, but try to avoid “Jackie” if you would…) posts from time to time, and mostly works the pictures-of-the-little-guy angle.

Vocationally, we are hedonistic drug dealers.  Our drug of choice is grace (the unmerited, unearnable, irrevocable thumbs-up of the only One whose opinion matters), and we deal primarily on the college campus.  We got hooked on grace in college, and have been junkies and dealers simultaneously for the past 7 years (Ben) and 4 years (Jacq). We’re involved in a plot outlined in Matthew 28:18-20 to hook people from every nation, people and language on the good stuff.

Non-vocationally (hobby-ally?) put me down for a slab of graphic design with a side of total frustration when I try to make those designs into web pages.  My semi-ineptitude at CSS is illustrated in the fact that above you see my latest twitter update, but not my wife’s.  I’m working on it.  I love the creative process and really long to give my creativity a non-sucky outlet. Some of those outlets? Video production, photography, creative writing, and graphic design.  I’m still very much a rookie and formally untrained in all of the above.  I am slightly more-trained as a guitar player and worship leader, which also serves as a creative outlet.

To get to know us a bit better, here’s a list of posts I think you ought to check out:

My experience with rice cereal and the pinky.

My 25 things.

LB and the monster faces (video)

Why I do what I do.

LB and the blocks (video)

The tag cloud to my left (your right) is also a great way to find out more about a specific segment of the blog.  The bigger the word, the more I have to say about it.

I should warn you that if you poke around enough on this site, or stick around for more than a few minutes, I’m bound to challenge you to worship with your wallet.  Here’s a post clarifying that phenomenon.

Why do I blog?  Here’s the approximate motivational breakdown:

60.21% Keeping friends, family, ministry partners, and others up-to-date on our life, in the never ending quest for actual authenticity.

32.45% Creative expression outlet

7.34% Challenging folks in their view of God, money, and life.

(I’m also willing to include up to 10% extra in the event that you are a high school or collegiate football coach and require more than the standard 100%.)

So, I’m glad you stopped by.  Bookmark us, follow one or the other of us on twitter, subscribe to the RSS feed over there—>, and swing by again!  I’d also love it if in the comments below you’d share where you’re from.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give Kobe his jersey back.

Can I be honest?

The past week has been a struggle.  We are facing an elephant-sized amount of financial support to raise, and despite having been off campus working full-time on developing additional support, we have a net gain of around (negative) 100 bucks per month this month.  It has felt insurmountable at times, and we have struggled with trusting God.

But as I was driving back from Fall Getaway (the only on-campus activity of the semester), I was confronted—no, accosted—by a strong sense of hope.  See, I’m more sure than ever that I am called to be on staff with this organization.  I am so excited about what God is doing on campus, and how He is continually, relentlessly, mercifully taking me to the gospel.  I have a clear vision for where we are going, just not how we are getting there.

These economic times (a phrase I wish were retired, or at least made past tense) have meant a sense of panic in America.  To compound that, the predominantly fiscally conservative culture in which I have most of my doings has reached fever pitch over the national transfer of power to the left-minded.  People are terrified, if that’s a strong enough word.  And the news media is loving it.  The more they stir up the blood pressure, the more their advertisers pay to put their logo just to the left of the “Meltdown” graphic.  (This segment of panicked rhetoric and over-dramatization is brought to you by Sears.  “Come experience the softer side of Sears.”)

Listening to conservative talk radio is baffling to the point of humorous, as you’ll hear minor-key melodramatic advertisements urging investors to buy gold, or seed packets, or underground bunkers.

What drives the panic?  Lack of perspective.

When I panic over how we are going to stay on staff in light of our current financial support, it means I’ve lost perspective on who is in charge.

When you panic because you fear the ramifications of a liberal policy (or a conservative policy), or because your 401(k) is looking more like a 200.5(k), it means the same thing: you’ve lost perspective on who is in charge.

Despite what some politicians (or marketers) might have you believe, the office of the presidency was never designed to save you.  Free market capitalism governed by personal moral restraint, though I think it’s biblical, is not designed to save you.

A full bank account, and a surplus of money coming in each month is not designed to save me.  As soon as we give saving power to anyone or anything in our lives, we’ve missed the gospel.

Let me be clear and say I am not suggesting a carefree, naive approach to what are certainly weighty issues.  I am not suggesting that I should stop aggressively pursuing raising support, or that you should ignore the politicians and what’s going on in the country.  Issues like public healthcare are worth discussing and debating.  They are just not worth panicking over.  Panic indicates that you are trusting in that subject to be your salvation.

As Christians, we should only panic if God is in danger of no longer being sovereign.  Hope, for the believer, is not some wishful thinking where we cross our fingers and think positive thoughts.  Hope (that force that accosted me on the road back from Lake Wylie) is based on who God is, and what he has done.  Jesus didn’t say “it is almost finished, except for that part that will be finished once _____________ happens” (fill in the blank with things like a full bank account, your particular brand of legislation making it through congress, your kid turning out to be a preacher, or doctor, or fisherman…)  He said “It is finished.”  As believers, we can be assured that, no matter what happens in the meantime, it is all going to be all right in the end.  This life is as close to hell as we will ever get.

When we have weeks that are a struggle to latch onto God, we can rest assured that it wasn’t his grip that loosened.  He’s never let go.  And praise the Lord his saving me isn’t based on my ability to keep my grasp on it.

One year ago yesterday we handed our 4-month-old to an anesthesiologist and said a prayer.

One year ago yesterday we had more individual viewers on our blog in a single day (by over 300) than any other day before or since.

One year ago yesterday we experienced something that, even today, we don’t like to look at the pictures of.

But God is so good.  Though we deserve none of it, he brought our son through surgery to repair craniosynostosis and now, a year later, he’s doing extremely well.  We are so thankful for how God works.  He doesn’t treat us as our sins deserve.

Mary Travers (of Peter, Paul, and Mary… and if that’s not enough of a clue, google it, young’n.) died today.

And I cried about it.

I was checking out her website and the touching things that her bandmates had to say about her and was struck by the fragility of life.  Do I know where Mary Travers is currently spending eternity?  Nope.  I didn’t know her, and only in passing listened to her music growing up.  But her death reminds me that good works are not enough.  She was an activist from birth.  According to her wikipedia page, her parents moved to Greenwich village in NY when she was just 2 years old.  She spent her entire life working for the causes of the underrepresented, the downtrodden, and the powerless.

But that’s not enough.

Again, I don’t know anything about her spiritual life, and so I am by no means pronouncing judgement on her.  My concern is that people not look at her life, which was spent living for a cause, and think that causes are enough to render you acceptable to God.  No amount of lobbying for abortion rights, gun control, animal rights, or racial reconciliation can get rid of the problem.

Her problem (and mine) is that we have declared war on God.  We’ve said to God that he isn’t doing a good enough job, and that we could do it better.  I still do it about once a day (on a particularly holy day), and Mary Travers did it too.  God, being perfect, and holy, and all of the things that we aren’t, can’t just let us off the hook for our rebellion.  He has to finish the war.  He has to win.  So, 2000 years ago, he won the war, by putting his perfect son on the front line of the rebels.  He killed his son so that infidels and rebels like me could go free.

All of the things that Mary Travers fought for (freedom for oppressed people, environmental awareness, etc) are worthy of fighting for.  But, until you deal with your own bankruptcy before God, you’ve still got a problem that no amount of activism can fix.

May the death of Mary Travers point us to the only cause worth fighting for.

Ben’s new ride. Isn’t he HOTT!!?