I'll keep it

Faith uses the past to shepherd us forward.

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I keep the half-burnt candles.

Wasted burnt wicks soaked in cake from Sichuan to Metairie

The wax has waned, yet memories remain.

Full of faces, sunsets and revelry.

When I walk through the valley of the shadow

These wisdom-worn gifts proclaim.

“A table was set”, I will not forget

So I keep these treasures and smile.

-B.Oaks

Psalm 77 gives an honest look at the struggle of remembering God’s provision in hardship. It’s a beautiful intersection of life’s questions and hope.

“I will cry out to God and call for help. I will cry out to God and he will pay attention to me.2 In my time of trouble I sought the Lord. I kept my hand raised in prayer throughout the night. I refused to be comforted.3 I said, “I will remember God while I groan; I will think about him while my strength leaves me.”4 You held my eyelids open; I was troubled and could not speak.5 I thought about the days of old, about ancient times.6 I said, “During the night I will remember the song I once sang; I will think very carefully.” I tried to make sense of what was happening.7 I asked, “Will the Lord reject me forever? Will he never again show me his favor?8 Has his loyal love disappeared forever? Has his promise failed forever?9 Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has his anger stifled his compassion?” 10 Then I said, “I am sickened by the thought that the Most High might become inactive.11 I will remember the works of the Lord. Yes, I will remember the amazing things you did long ago.12 I will think about all you have done; I will reflect upon your deeds.”13  O God, your deeds are extraordinary. What god can compare to our great God?14 You are the God who does amazing things; you have revealed your strength among the nations.15 You delivered your people by your strength— the children of Jacob and Joseph. 16 The waters saw you, O God, the waters saw you and trembled. Yes, the depths of the sea shook with fear.17 The clouds poured down rain; the skies thundered. Yes, your arrows flashed about.18 Your thunderous voice was heard in the wind; the lightning bolts lit up the world. The earth trembled and shook.19 You walked through the sea; you passed through the surging waters, but left no footprints.20 You led your people like a flock of sheep, by the hand of Moses and Aaron”
— Psalm 77

Invisible Hospitality

The true test of hospitality comes when another’s comfort rises at our expense and the exchange is unseen. There is value in welcoming a friend, there is honor suffering for another. But to lose in secret for another’s gain, then we flourish.

When will we beg at midnight?

When should wisdom unlock the door?

When does justice collect its memories?

When mercy is more.


When hospitality swims shallow, we see merriment.

When hospitality runs deep, we feel loss.

When hospitality is invisible, there is love.

When mercy is more.


Oh, the intangible brilliance of veiled charity.

libations of kindness without leverage.

When mercy is more…

Then we know who hospitality is for.

-B.Oaks

“5-6 Then he said, “Imagine what would happen if you went to a friend in the middle of the night and said, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread. An old friend traveling through just showed up, and I don’t have a thing on hand.’

7 “The friend answers from his bed, ‘Don’t bother me. The door’s locked; my children are all down for the night; I can’t get up to give you anything.’

8 “But let me tell you, even if he won’t get up because he’s a friend, if you stand your ground, knocking and waking all the neighbors, he’ll finally get up and get you whatever you need.

9 “Here’s what I’m saying:

Ask and you’ll get;
Seek and you’ll find;
Knock and the door will open.

10-13 “Don’t bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need.”
— Luke 11 5-13 The Message


Work - Part 2

Do I have to be alone to find rest?

Our default is to think of “Rest” in terms of escape. While there is value to stepping away, (Jesus did it) reducing “Rest” to isolation misses the bigger story of the Gospel. In the coming Kingdom “Rest” is not a nap and its certainly not isolation. The true “Rest” we long for will be experienced in community and is so much more than cessation.

This is counter intuitive. So maybe it’s easier to think in terms of peace. Peace is more than avoiding activity or people. It is experiencing order over chaos.

Though I walk in death, you are with me, you prepare a table for me. - Psalm 23

Think of a well-oiled machine, an orchestra, a garden or assembly line. These systems have an order that is beautiful and a peace that is contagious. Consider how nature reflects this to a thirty soul.

Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. - John Muir

Is this window to rest proprietary to nature? Can work bring peace?

There is no tension between creativity and peace. No tension between creativity and work.
So then why does work seem in opposition to peace?

Our sin is to blame. It promised but destroyed peace. Everything, including work has been stained.

Part of the problem is that we treat work like an end unto itself. But our labors will never be sufficient to swallow the complexities wrought by sin. This is beyond our reach. (Which btw is part of the problem. AKA fancying ourselves too much)

Academia acknowledges the limits of our endeavors in a thing called Ashby’s Law.

Ashby’s Law, also known as the Law of Requisite Variety, examines complex systems saying: For a system to be at peace, it must be able to handle the same level of complexity found in its surroundings. A system will fail if its capacity does not match or exceed its context. The more complex the context, the greater capacity a system must have.

OK that will break your brain. What does it mean here?

Answer: The world is enormously complicated and needs suitable solutions. No one person or team is enough. This means sustainable rest will never come from work, church, finances or even family. Even religion cannot absorb the problems of the universe. Only the grand narrative of the Gospel can absorb all the variabilities of life (including your story). This is extremely liberating. If God is really big enough, then we need not fear complex problems, obscure solutions or even failure.

But God, through the amazing work of the cross, is making all things new.

Sin is not the end of the story. The cross swallows chaos and restores peace to broken systems. It makes straight the crooked. We all (me, you and everyone) introduce trauma into our systems. Constantly causing a cumflumple. Weeds in the garden, wrenches in a machine, sour untuned instruments.

And this is an amazing grace, God commissions broken people as ambassadors of rest. Whether student, teacher, barista or entrepreneur, we are peace givers in all the places we live work and play.

So… Maybe work stinks right now. But escape is not the solution. Neither is the perfect job. The rest your heart long for comes from Christ. And you have the privilege of living from that rest in the midst of the stink.

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”. - John 16:33

God Knows

Grace is Enough

Knowing the one who knows.

The veil and marred held powerless.

Proclaiming peace in an economy of condemnation.

A truth discovered in unrequested places.

But I belong to Royalty. I am well acquainted with the King of Kings. I am better known and better understood among the great family above than I am on earth - Amanda Smith


For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. - 1 Corinthians 13:12-13

The Poet

"God was a maker, which is what the word 'poet' means. When God spoke, a poem was created and there was a pattern, meter, symmetry, rhythm, and a pure sense of delight. If God was a poet, that means we are poems."

— Rev. Dr. Luke A. Powery

After Holy Pond

The story below is a sequel to Holy Pond. Its ending is like much of Scripture, pondering mercy in an unresolved space. Which is a unique mercy unto itself. I often forget this.

Holy Pond is well, I can tell. She was never mine from the start.

The scattered remnants of birthdays and barns will be hard to collect.

I will miss the pier. The sound of flips, trips and “I got a bite”.

This morning I sip Jack, not coffee, as the sun warms the dew. If that sounds like heresy then I suggest you watch the morning news.

This chair, with the arm torn off, has a stinging tattered edge. Its mine for now. If I sit shifted, I have elbow space to write about a mercy. But something about this edge reminds me of beauty.

I feel guilty for wondering what others lost.

So I will sit here a little longer, and wonder about these geese and how they managed the wind?

- B.Oaks

I challenge you to release your previous thoughts about Jonah. Instead contrast Jonah from just before chapter 1 verse 1 with the context immediately after chapter 4:11. The story of Jonah is a complex one with many applications. It ends with an unresolved strange look at Life, Grace and cattle. I put this here to give us all license to stop trying to put a bow on circumstances.

“7 But when dawn came up the next day, God appointed a worm that attacked the plant, so that it withered. 8 When the sun rose, God appointed a scorching east wind, and the sun beat down on the head of Jonah so that he was faint. And he asked that he might die and said, “It is better for me to die than to live.” 9 But God said to Jonah, “Do you do well to be angry for the plant?” And he said, “Yes, I do well to be angry, angry enough to die.” 10 And the Lord said, “You pity the plant, for which you did not labor, nor did you make it grow, which came into being in a night and perished in a night. 11 And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?””
— Jonah 4:7-11

Repentanc-ing

I have longed with all my heart to sit in the dining car of the northwest rail and see the rising sun’s warmth on the Canadian Rockies. 

And here, as the train sifts the morning clouds, with hot coffee, fresh orange scones, jam and linen napkins, there is a familiar smell. An unfriendly odor. So my gaze slides from the window to an invisible creature seated my opposite in a miserable chair.

It is too late.
A mortal wound and the bite is fresh. My blood now runs through the veins of a thief. A life stolen to satisfy guilt. 

Did the other passengers see? Do they care? Did they not smell the malice? Do they drink coffee as I die alone?

Wither does the train now move? Whither do I move? Away the sun sifts cold and black. I wish to dash but drift as death drips beyond directions into nothingness. 

An eye for an eye! With the last reserves of strength my left hand grasps a silver fork as my right hand prepares the trap. Vengeance will fuel my final reach. I smirk, knowing the creature will soon join my tomb.

I dash upon the creature's chair and press the weapon home. Again and Again. Fool foul upon my brow! Another successful assassination.

Terror. Ironic shattered terror.

My fingers have not gripped flesh, but the stem of a looking glass. My reflection fractured and the wound is mine. Everything: the scones, butter, jam and even this stupid mirror are now covered with my bloody ignorance. 

If I hurry I can clean this mess before the creature sees. Out dam spot! Who will wash me clean of guilt and shame? Who can absolve me of these stains?

And worse, much much worse, I have squandered the sunrise.

Burdened with regret I hang my head and cry.

Then the creature says softly: “It’s alright, we will try again tomorrow. Can I serve you some fresh scones and jam?”

Work - part 1

Some thoughts on living out Micah 6:8

Gospel Fluency

leads to: Gospel Curiosity

leads to: Gospel Innovation

leads to: Gospel Centered Communities

I’m thinking about how fluency is manifested. Then the importance of curiosity in our endeavors. Right now, as I sit by this fire I think this is a path for the Kingdom of God in my own life.


Sweet Creative Mind

I wrote this over 12 years ago. Still true today.

The painting is from 2014. Wood board. 36x36 with 2.5 inch relief

We tucked in the kids and headed to the kitchen. It was that time of day when spouses finish chores and debrief the ebb and flow of life. Tonight the dishes were piled a bit higher because the ladies of the house had made cupcakes, frosted cookies and marshmallow strawberry treats. This is ironic because our family does not eat many sweets. In fact, there is not one sweet treat made in our home which does not end up at our church or neighbors house.

So there we were, cleaning dishes and chatting about parenting, friends, work and what not. Then came the blind side. "I sure love cooking, but these dishes gotta go" It took a moment to sink in before I realized what she said. The girl who claims she can't draw stick figures had just confessed she was an artist.

The curtain had been pulled back. It was a glimpse into the sweet creative mind. The mind that delights in creating. In my bride I saw a reflection of God's image which takes tasteless things and turns them into beautiful objects, sweet and delightful.

Many people think artist are creative. This is only part true. Real creativity is rooted in love. God is love and He is the ultimate artist. Every time we create (songs, cupcakes, friendships, houses, paintings, jet planes, heart valves etc..) we reflect the Father's image. When creating is born from love you have art. Life is a grand canvas, and he has given us a sweet creative mind.



Ephesians 2:10 
For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Dancing

We all have a sheet neath the weight at our feet.
It feels hammered by sin, loss or shame.

When a whisper’s soft wind lifts the waltz back again,
Our mountains do glide turn and spin. 

Armies can't hold what the spirit sustains,
And mercy is stronger when a memory reigns. 

But you don't get to choose the songs that you lose,
Cause the dance floor is more than just you. 

The Buoy

Can a buoy abide?

Fixed to hazards that depths do hide. 

In drought and tempest called to guide.

Placed by wisdom and those that cried.

Mercy's tensile cuts the ocean wide.

Resting in the anchor, tossed and dancing in the tide.

A sentinel for singing. Never drowning never dry.

- B.Oaks

“When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled. The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder; your arrows flashed on every side. The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lighted up the world; the earth trembled and shook. Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen.”
— Psalm 77:16-19

Our work is to sing and dance for the mercies that sustain us.

The Race

I went for a jog last week and thought of Eric Liddell. - ‘‘When I run I feel his pleasure’’. Its not, ‘‘when I run I earn his pleasure’’. Too often we toil for an invisible something beyond the horizon. We miss the thrill of the present. The finish line is not beyond a distant horizon. It is accomplished, and our toil is a lived memory. It is hope filled from what has been done.

I saw a man run bold and fast

on an occasion he was passed

Thin his grin when other runners paused to gasp.

In the end his screaming legs pushed and dashed.

I whispered “Well run and done”. To the ground he crashed.

……………………………………………

“VICTORY!” Glory for toils spent and went. and yet…

……………………………………………

As the prize seeped down his face,

The striders passed, still fast upon the chase.

Not one paused nor glanced amidst their haste.

Each one steadied with open pace.

……………………………………………

The crowd ran too. Onward. Upward. Toward sun and height.

Long and westward fixed in the flight.

A massive herd fleeing loss and night.

Their striving thundered with speed and fright.

……………………………………………

Ambition veiled the good and bad.

This one laughing, that one sad.

A vengeful army chasing what they had.

Sprinting chaos. Sprinting mad.

……………………………………………

“No, Not this time… Not again.”

To his feet we rose bold and fast

on this occasion having just been passed.

Thin grins grew wide when others crashed.

At the end my screaming legs pushed and passed.

A victor not to be. my wreath slipping the horizon last

-B Oaks

“9 What gain has the worker from his toil? 10 I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. 12 I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; 13 also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God’s gift to man.

14 I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him. 15 That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away. ”
— Ecclesiastes 3:9-15

The Press

We are all like wandering sheep. Straying closer to the cliffs edge. Testing the tinsel strength of God’s love. Sometimes our wanderings are visible, other times they exist in the deep chambers of our heart. In these spaces there is often an argument we have with God. We seek both him and our desires, convinced they are not only compatible, but designed for each other.

THE PRESS

Let's mitigate our positions. 

Now give me the grasp of my pursuits!

Your press has trapped my entire arm on this well's lip. 

I cannot move.

"Let go" You say?  - I have reached to the breach. 

Since when does Love become license?

I will claim jurisdiction over myself.

Let's mitigate our positions. 

I prefer here and now, 

Relent your press and grant freedom by these terms:

I will insert my hand, arm, head and everything to my feet. I promise to keep a toes grip on the lip, so as not to appear obstinate. 

To be frank, it seems daft upon an ease, extending further in, you press again.

Let's mitigate our position. 

-B. Oaks

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”
— Galatians 5:1

Gullah Geeche Grace

Ms. Barbara, a prophetess of mercy.

Through providence, on a remote island, she spoke.

“Sometimes you need to hear God say YES’’.

On one side, men dripping with resources and “no trespassing” signs.

On the other, Barbara. A outcast slave descendant on barrier islands of poverty.

In the middle, me, a stranger to both.

From her wages of service, A FEAST!

Fish, shrimp, chicken, corn, potatoes, sausage, beans, hushpuppies.

From the wages of mercy, A welcome dripping in gratitude.

Mercy spoke.

“Sometimes you need to hear GOD say YES”

Christ fed through poverty when riches would not.

-B.Oaks

Cynicism tells us that charity has unseen strings, like a spider web, and the price for pulling will devour us. So charity becomes commerce, and we seek to purchase our independence. But true charity never binds. It gives. The story above is of a mercy my family received several years ago. No strings were attached. Unfortunately, I was unwilling to receive the mercy in whole. I thought I could mitigate my merit. So I gave Barbara’s husband cash. (I thought about hiding this part of the story, but I think its important as we learn gratitude.)

“But now that you’ve found you don’t have to listen to sin tell you what to do, and have discovered the delight of listening to God telling you, what a surprise! A whole, healed, put-together life right now, with more and more of life on the way! Work hard for sin your whole life and your pension is death. But God’s gift is real life, eternal life, delivered by Jesus, our Master.”
— Romans 6:22-23 The Message