A night time whirlwind

Life has been a whirlwind as of late. So much so, that this post is being typed on my phone as I lay in my bed reading. I just read a quoted passage that strikes true to the place I have found myself most recently aware. It’s from a monk named Thomas Merton…

“MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I will trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are over me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
-Thomas Merton, “Thoughts in Solitude”

I wear my human brokeness on a daily basis, something that becomes more apparent every day. When I read quotes from authors like this one, it’s comforting to realize that I don’t weather these ideals alone. I’ve been wrestling with my own perspective on desires and heart-purposes; in general… Living with a Kingdom perspective.

…but it’s time for rest, a new day is technically already here…

“Saint” Justus

Yesterday I was reading in Acts. First three chapters to be exact. The part that intrigued me was at the end of the first chapter.  Jesus had just ascended and the remaining apostles were meeting to discuss filling the opening left by Judas.  They considered two men for the position.  The 11 cast lots and Matthias was decided to be the one added to the group.

My attention was drawn to the other man, named Joseph Barsabbas.  He was the man that was voted out.  I can imagine the disappointment he was feeling.  I can picture being in his shoes.  Visualize this…

you’ve seen this ‘man’ Jesus perform miracles;

you’ve heard the way he speaks, the way he talks with people;

you’ve walked away from your own lifestyle, friends, family, job, dreams…

You’ve walked for miles WITH Jesus and decided that you are willing to give EVERYTHING you can to share in the story surrounding him.

In spite of every sacrifice you find that, for little better than flipping a coin, you haven’t ‘earned’ a spot the the group of men that will be the human face of this movement.  I wonder what his internal dialog was like.  There’s not much to go on from the bible.  This is literally the only mention of him, ANYWHERE in the bible.

I’m sure we can all relate to the disappointment.  I noticed something else about Joseph Barsabbas, in parenthesis next to his name.  “Also known as Justus.”  Justus is a name with a latin root.  It means Justice.  I know this, because it’s the same root as my own name.  He earned that name because he was known as an upright and just person.  When I realized our common name roots, I found it even easier to relate to his story.

I can almost hear some of you saying, “what an honor to just be considered.”  While I would agree with you, I can also relate more with the person who would look at their own story and say, “my life, too, will be remembered as an ‘almost, but not good enough’ story.”

I struggle a lot with ‘being known’ and figuring out what big thing I’m supposed to do with my life that will gain recognition.  I’ve even caught myself sharing that thought with the same paper as the concept of God’s glory before my own.  With a heart focused on the latter, I shouldn’t even be able to conceive the first.

I told someone, not that long ago, “I can tell God is in the middle of this, because it makes the same kind of sense as the stories in the bible.”  For what ever reason, I see my life that way, a collection of stories.  I think my newest found desire is to be more focused on the living OF the story instead of the story itself.  I feel like I’ve gotten a good start toward that goal over the past couple of years, but it’s still something to stay focused on.  Rather than chasing the fame of society, why not chase after living a life?  If your life is a story anyone needs to hear about, they might?

What would you do if your life’s story was told in a book or movie, with the names changed, and no writing credits were given to you?  People would be impacted by your life, but you would never be known for it.  Could you be okay with that?  Would it be enough to hope that you would have an impact on lives?  I’d like to say I would, but it’s easy to say anything you want and words lie.

The way I see it, Joseph  Barsabbas, aka Justus, is a saint.

for the overlooked

the replaced

the almost, but not quite’s

the forgotten

The real jPo

Heart of the artist

Starting a new list for 2012…

Memphis

Route 66

Taos/Rio Grande

4 points

Petrified Forrest

Grand Canyon

Vegas

San Diego/USS Midway

PCH

Redwood Forrest

Lake Tahoe

Loneliest Highway/Nevada

Salt Lake City

Denver

…Just to start…

Two wheels and a lot of miles…

The real jPo

Heart of the artist

All inked up…

Well, there’s nothing earth shattering happen in the the thought process these days… thought I’d share the story behind my newest ink. I’ve actually been meaning to blog about it for awhile. It’s all healed up nicely now, so I can take a close up photo…

It’s a fairly simple tat, but there’s a lot going on. The idea is that it looks like three stones, displaying 8, 2, 6. I had originally planned on getting a slightly different piece on that forearm. There were two inspirations for the final concept. The initial was Romans 8:26, and the second was a literary work, “Dark night of the soul”, by St. John of the Cross.

To break it down… The blue stone represents the “dark night of the soul”, the difficult times in life. Times when you’re blinded by situations and circumstances.

The yellow stone represents the “light of realization”, the ‘aha’ moments in life when we finally see the truth revealed from the dark night.

The green stone represents “resting in the aftermath”, the times in life when we’re exhausted from pressing through difficulty. (Psalm 23:2)

The 8:26 stands for my favorite verse, found at Romans 8:26, and represents God being as close as a heart beat during those trying times. “…the spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we should, but the spirit himself prays for us with groanings too deep for words.”

The Real jPo
Heart of the artist

An old video project

I was recently asked about a project I did while studying Video production.  I thought I’d just post it on here rather than burn a DVD. The song is by Burlap to Cashmere and to my knowledge, they broke up several years ago. Their lead singer, Steven Delopoulos has a solo career now though.

I hope all is well out there in the great big world.

Merry Christmas to you all.

The real jPo

Heart of the artist

All I want for Christmas…

…is you…

“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.”

Matthew 6:25-26

I’ve somehow gotten all the things I need to survive. A roof over my head. Food for my stomach. Reliable transportation. ETC…

I find it hard to even consider asking for more, when I have done little to deserve more than death. If I had to “settle up” with God on a daily basis, I could never sleep. I would never have earned it. Somedays I can’t anyways, but that’s my own fault.

In spite of my own humanity, I find grace is all that is waiting for me at the end of the day.

What could I possibly ask for that wouldn’t be selfish?

The Real jPo

Heart of the Artist

At a loss for words…

I saw this posted on Facebook a few minutes ago. I almost didn’t click. It’s hard to watch, because it reminds me of my own past. Life can be really difficult, but the worst part… it’s the people around us that can make it even worse.  I’ve been where Jonah is, I survived. Barely. And, only by the grace of God.  My darkest years didn’t even start until the end of high school.

The challenges do make you stronger, though there’s always another challenge waiting. If you’re willing to accept it.

…Accept it…

…It’s worth it…

The Real jPo

The Artist’s Heart

Dangerous, Reckless Abandon

I’ve been thinking about the words “dangerous” and “reckless”…. So, to start off with, the definitions… (from dictionary.com)

Dangerous – 1.Full of danger or risk; causing danger; perilous; risky; hazardous; unsafe. 2. able or likely to cause physical injury: A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL.

Reckless – 1.utterly unconcerned about the consequences of some action; without caution; careless: to be reckless of danger.  2. characterized by or proceeding from such carelessness: RECKLESS EXTRAVAGANCE.

A few things bounce out at me. Firstly, the dangerous definition. “Full of risk”, “risky”, “hazardous”, “unsafe”. Growing up, my mom always wanted me to be safe. I’d guess most mom’s are the same way. As a child, without the wisdom from experience, we need to be in safe environments. No one would argue that. You wouldn’t want to put a child into a situation where they could be physically injured, emotionally attacked, or be forced to make a decision that could leave life-long scars.

When I looked up “reckless”, well, I like the whole definition. But.. unconcerned about the consequences of an action, and proceeding from “reckless extravagance”.

How easy is it for us to try and avoid either. Have you never said, with some level of self righteous indignation, “I can’t believe that happened, how reckless, how dangerous.” I grew up in a household where they were both treated as words to describe something that was distasteful.

Recently, I’m seeing them a little differently.

What if we were to start loving with utterly no concern about the consequence. Love without caution. Without care or concern to the ramification to our own hearts, emotions, financial stability, even our own lives? We would be living full of risk, putting ourselves into risky, perilous, hazardous, even unsafe situations.

Love, in a dangerous and reckless way. But, is love, really love, if it is safe and sanitary. With all the risk removed and security that that there will be no pain as a result? Can you even call that love?

I’ve realized, even more lately, that I’m driven by a desire to experience. More than anything. A friend once called me a “FOMO”, Fear Of Missing Out. If I find myself at a crossroads where I have the choice to experience something new on one path; or on another path gain possessions, wealth, comfort, even safety… Well, you’ll find me forsaking all logic and wandering down the rabbit hole to see what new thing I might see. It’s a wanderlust that seems to ebb and flow within my life’s story. It will stay away for extended periods of time. Then out of nowhere, it pops back up and saves my heart.

I’ve been fortunate enough to experience dangerous love. I’ve been reckless enough to chase it and catch it. I’ve even been knocked to the floor with the realization that the most dangerous and reckless love is from the heart of a God that loves me. Enough to write a love story over 2000 years ago, and then use my own to speak to my heart. Then a new realization that would humble me to forsake any concern for my own comfort or safety.

He knows I can never love him as deeply, or as well as he loves me.

He knows that my love for him will never be large enough to compare to his love for me.

He knows that the best I can offer him is dusty broken pieces of a mangled heart.

He knows all of that, and knew it, before he chose to love me.

Try that on for size…

The Real jPo

Heart of the artist

“The Road Not Taken”

The winds of change are blowing. That much I can share. Honestly, because that’s all I know. It’s the part of this life that I have grown accustomed to expecting. Following in faith that tomorrow with be brighter, and the next part of the journey will be more incredible than if I were controlling it myself. The uneasy feeling of surrendering control to a God that asks me too, but doesn’t require me to.

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Robert Frost is one of the first writers I remember learning about. I think it was in Elementary school. One of my assignments was to memorize his poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Night.”  The last paragraph is my favorite…

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The woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep

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I haven’t thought of this poem in years, except for those last two lines. Tonight I read a few of his other poems. I found another that I really like, maybe a new favorite, and definitely timely…

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“The Road Not Taken”
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveloer, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could;

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Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there

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Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

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I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the diference.

Robert Frost

The real jPo
Heart of the Artist

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P.S… I hate this website. My apologies for all the extra periods. It’s the only way I was able to have wordpress format my paragraphs the way I wanted. I’ve now spent nearly an hour on a blog that should have taken about 15 min. Max.

Authenticity of a bathroom wall

Last night I sat for a couple of hours reading posts at ragamuffinsoul. I’ve gotten some real inspiration from the words Carlos Whittaker has written on there and in interviews. Though we have a few mutual friends, we’ve never met personally. I think that’s one of the things I like most about this whole blog world. Well, I guess it’s the whole social media thing in general. There’s a lot more access to the wisdom of people a little farther along in the journey. Carlos is a big reason I blog like I do. Well, I should clarify, an idea he shared on a bathroom wall is why I blog the way I do.

I’ve followed his blog for a few years. Occasionally I’ve been regular in reading it, other times not so much. Last night found me catching up on some of his recent blogs. Reading from his honesty wrecked some stuff. In a good way, in the kind of way that makes me try to hide my face in by a strategically placed hand to avoid letting anyone else in Starbucks see the tears forming from my own brokeness. Then being frustrated that I’m so eager to hide myself. So eager to be a faker.

The word authenticity has a definition that I seem to have a hard time displaying at times. Most times. Now times. So, a new goal of mine is authenticity through transparency. It’s pretty easy sometimes, with certain friends. But, I’m thoroughly frustrated and exhausted with myself from the times that I just smile, laugh, and nod just to go along with whatever is going on. Jokes. Conversation topics. Social injustices. Sometimes it’s hard, especially for me because half of the time I open my mouth to say something, an awkward nothing comes out. But, a lot of the time it’s because I’m just on auto-pilot.  And, IT’S ABSOLUTELY STUPID. I’m not ignorant to the results of saying the hard stuff. I’m also not naive to think that people will avoid someone who says hard stuff.

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So, off to lunch I go now. Just to be real, it’s likely not going to be healthy and I’m likely to smoke on the way there and back. Because in all honesty, I’ve struggled with an addiction to nicotine since I was 17.  I was damn strong in fighting it for a good 8 years, but lately I’ve been struggling with it. Hard. And until my e-cig refills come in the mail I’m back to babysitting an old demon. I’m too determined and stubborn to succumb to this old habit, but it’s taking more to quit than I expected.    What’s your nicotine demon?

The real jPo

<)heart of the artist(>