BGC - South Africa

Hi there.

Wanted to take a few minutes to write about something very close to my heart.

Africa.

Specifically South Africa and a little place called Botshabelo. It is a home, an orphanage, a place where people reach out and help each other. Founded by Con and Marion Cloete in 1990, it is now home to about 1,500 people.

"Botshabelo and the Cloete's are dedicated to improving the lives of the economically challenged, especially children who have been orphaned by or exposed to HIV/AIDS. Using the traditional African village (and its inherent ubuntu values of cooperation and joint responsibility) as a model, the community works together to break the cycle of poverty and bring hope, safety, education and sustainable growth to all residents. Botshabelo has worked to become a self-sustaining community and, more importantly, a place of safety and family to South Africa's AIDS orphans and economic orphans." (from BGC's website)

But they need help. If you are willing, they need your help.

Some can go and help. Others can give to help. Please visit http://www.buildingaglobalcommunity.org/ it is an organization dedicated to helping Botshabelo and other places like it. I've personally gone to this village and have seen first hand the growing hope and the seemingly endless need.

I know there are lots of organizations and causes out there to give your time, money and talents to. This is one I have chosen. Africa has been in my heart since the mid '90s when I saw the movie "The Power of One." It transformed my outlook on life. Last year, I finally read the semi-autobiographical book that the movie was inspired by. A few weeks later I myself was in South Africa for the first time.

It was a trip I will never forget. Not long after returning home I was asked to join the board of Building a Global Community. I happily accepted.

If you visit BGC's site, please consider donating. There are several projects they are a part of. If you want funds to go specifically to Botshabelo, indicate that on your check or via PayPal. I can assure you that the money goes right to help the lives of those in need.

If you are of the documentary viewing sort, check out "Angels in the Dust." It's all about the Cloete's and a few of the children living in Botshabelo. [link]

Thanks,
-Jersey

In Memoriam

Thank you. 

Thank you to every man and woman who has given their lives for the United States.  Today is a celebration of your lives and your dedication to see Life, Liberty, and Freedom endure.

Your sacrifice was not given in vain.

There is still hope for this country.

Thank you.

Old Threads

    “How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back?”  -Frodo The Return of the King

This is Frodo’s narration as the final scenes of The Return of the King, and the entire Lord of the Rings Trilogy play out.  He’s returned to his cozy hobbit hole at Bag End after his incredible year long journey from Hobbiton to Rivendell to Mordor and back.  He and his fellow hobbit companions are changed people.  They aren’t the simple fun loving, song singing, drink sharing folk they were the year before.

Sure some of those elements are still there.  But there are things that will never be the same.  How do you compare the height of the White City of Minas Tirith to the earthy colored walls of a hobbit hole?  The places they have been may have only strengthened their love of all things hobbitish, but they cannot un-see the places they have gone.

No more than they can un-experience the battles they have fought, the brutality of war and destruction that it brings.  They cannot un-shed the blood they themselves have shed, be it their own or their enemies.

Nor can they un-meet their other companions, or other characters they met along the way.  They can’t un-speak the conversations about life and death and all the rest. 

Forever. 

Those places, experiences and people have altered their lives for all time.  Just like the places, experiences and people that have come into my life have altered me forever.

For ever.

After nearly 14 years I have returned to my hometown.

Funny how the ending of one chapter can sometimes take you back to a place where a previous chapter started.  It’s the same place, but the environment may or may not have changed slightly.  Usually the characters have changed or seen things that would alter their perception of this familiar setting.

And that’s where I am.  New chapter.  Same story.  Previous setting, different perceptions.  New familiarity.

You see, you cannot pick up the pieces of an old life.

Not possible.

Because whether we like it or not, things change.  Maybe it’s us that changes, maybe it’s our surroundings, but something is always changing.

You can’t pick up an old life because that old life is affected by what has led to the new or different life.

The new life that is, exists because of the life that was.  It may be minor changes, but they are there.  The way we look at a sunset because of that one we saw in that one place.  Or the way we think about a book or movie because of that conversation with what’s their face.  It’s different.

Hopefully it’s better.

I know for myself it is better.  I’ve come back a different person.  For me many things are similar, but every thing is better.  (Except the stink bugs, seriously.  Thanks China!)  My relationships with my parents are better.  My walk with God is better (but there is always room for improvement there!)

The threads of my old life can’t be picked up.  Nobody’s can.  Because they are part of the tapestry that is their entire life.  You can trace those threads back to where you ‘left’ them, but they are woven into who you are now.

Just because you can’t “go back,” doesn’t mean that sadness and despair are the result.  There is a sadness to Frodo’s words.  But that sadness doesn’t touch Sam.  Sam does have a sadness in part, but for him, life is better on returning home.  He has courage, strength, he gets married, has a family and lives a long and happy life.  He does back to his same house, doing what he used to do, but he is changed.

A good friend shared the song “For Good” from Wicked on my facebook page after I moved from Illinois to PA.  I’ve not seen the play but I get the concept of what it’s about.  And these words go hand in hand with this post.

“Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better…

Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good...”

Old threads can’t be picked up.  They can only continue on.  Because our old lives make us who we are today.  The old becomes the new.  We move on.  We grow.  Every day, every life, every moment contributing to the next.

Grace, Peace and Love
 -jesse

"It's okay, I'm a leaf on the wind..."

Ambivalent.

It's the only word I can really use right now to describe how I feel.

I'm back where I grew up.  A goal that has been set since the beginning of the year.  I'm happy to be here, but sad to be gone from Joliet.

I'm full of hope for the future, still have no idea what any of that will look like, but I have hope from God in it.  I'm happy to be near my parents.  Happy to be near old friends.  Everything is so familiar yet strange.  Like I'm looking at things I only dreamed of and didn't see clearly, or things I saw through a dirty window that is now clean.

I keep thinking of John Cusack's character in Grosse Pointe Blank, Martin Blank.  He returns home 10 years after disappearing from his senior prom.  He goes to where his childhood house was and finds a convenience store complete with disinterested clerk.  "What are you doing here?" he asks the confused teen.  Then after a pointless string of questions he mutters in utter frustration, "Who - I used to - Where - W-what are you doing here?"

He then calls his therapist and ends his call with, "You can never go home again...but I guess you can shop there."


Granted my situation isn't even remotely similar.  But there's a feeling in his frustration that I am experiencing.  I don't quite know how to describe it except as the aforementioned ambivalence.


My heart longs for what will be, but yearns for what was.


There is this awesome sadness that keeps trying to cling to me.  I've kept it at bay most of this week by keeping busy.  But tonight it's sinking it's teeth in.  This isn't the verge of depression or some plea for support or anything.  Sadness is not in itself a bad thing.  I need to endure this and I'm finally letting it happen.  I know I'm not alone.  I know Jesus is here with me.  Also that the love and prayers of friends here in PA and those in IL, MO, and elsewhere are with me.


I'm really missing my Joliet family tonight.  The Deeter's, the Bin Youth, the Jahnke's, everyone at SWCC and many others.


I haven't had a good and proper laugh since last Sunday.  For those who know what I'm talking about...well, you know what I'm talking about.


To all of you in Joliet, you will never know how much you have impacted and shaped my life.  I'm forever changed because of all of you.  Individually and as a whole.  I can't thank you enough.


I'm sad to have left.  But I'm excited about what is yet to come.


Which brings me to the title of this post.  From a fantastic show that became a movie.  Firefly to Serenity.  Some of the best written characters ever created, and with far too short a life span.  Like a leaf on the wind, I'm flying, but there is no way to predict where I'm going.  One thing you can do though, is tell what type of tree I grew from.


From my parents, brothers and sister, cousins, aunts, uncles, teachers, mentors, pastors, school friends, college friends, co-workers, students, youth leaders, business owners, and so on, you have all contributed to who I am.  Good, bad, and everything else.  I carry all of you with me.

All of you.


"It's okay, I'm a leaf on the wind...watch how I soar."

Training Wheels and Skinned Knees

It was the summer of 1987.  I was eight years old.  The warm sun beat down on our necks in New Cumberland, PA.  "Our" being my brother Joe, myself, and a trio of siblings my brother was watching for the summer, 2 brothers and a sister.  We were riding our bikes all over the town.

I do have a point beyond going down memory lane...stick with me.

Dappled patches of golden sun and vibrant green filled our vision as we scrambled all over the place.  Starting out from our apartment on Third Street, up to the Turkey Hill on Bridge Street and back.  Past the Library, schools and quiet homes.  This will go down in my memory as one of the best summers of my life.  It was almost limitless freedom to my young mind.  No adult supervision (my brother is only about 9 years older than me, so he would have been almost 17.)  Thinking back it almost feels like an 80's movie come to life.

We were our own Goonies.  Having adventures real and imagined.  Playing with Transformers, riding bikes, climbing the house, running through the streets bare foot or in home made costumes, we were unstoppable.

The only thing that ever slowed us down were injuries, or the occasional fight over who got to be who when going on imaginary adventures.  As for the injuries, well, I was the king of that contest.  Running barefoot, great fun till you sprint through broken glass (at that point Die Hard didn't mean anything to me besides a battery brand.)  I fell out of a tree and jacked my leg up pretty well too. 

Then there was day I started this off with.  We had been riding bikes all day.  We were a few blocks from home and all feeling pretty good about everything.  When I saw we were riding bikes, I mean everyone else.  I was on a scooter.  And remember this wasn't those "Razor" scooters or anything like that.  These were the ones that looked like a skate board with mini mountain bike tires on it.

Mine was electric green.

The reason I was on a scooter, is because I hadn't learned how to ride a bike.  But I took to the scooter like a fish to water.  Somehow though, I feel like I had to work harder to keep up with my little gang, but I did.  And there we were, cruising back to the apartment.  I'm sure thoughts of lemonade or iced tea were racing through our minds.  I look over and see my brother (my cool, older bro who I looked up to and admired so much, and still do.  Love you dude!)

He was riding with no hands.  In fact he let go of the bars and through his arms up in a victorious gesture, battle cry and all.  Wanting to be as cool as him, I did the same thing.  Letting go of handle bars on a scooter doesn't work the same as letting go of a bike.  As I realized my mistake and the world blurred into slow-motion, I saw the handle bars turn left,  slip to my out of reach, and start to tip the scooter.  I was thrown off, head first down the pavement of the street like a dry slip-n-slide...with rocks.

My legs, knees, arms, elbows were shredded like a block of cheese for tacos.  Fortunately my face was saved by my Philadelphia Eagles (back when they were still green and grey) baseball cap.  The bill of said hat now looking like the jeans of many rock stars.

I don't remember how I got home, but I remember bandages, stinging, and lovely scabs later on.  But you know what, I got back on that scooter the next day.  I never let go of the handle bars again, but I didn't stop riding.

A few years later I would learn how to ride a bike.  It was a 10-Speed, with training wheels.  Once I had it down I thought I was the coolest kid in the neighborhood.  That neighborhood being Cedar Run Apartments where my dad lived.  I would bike up to the playground and do laps thinking I was the stuff.  Until kids started to laugh at me.  Why were they laughing?  I was 10 years old, and riding with training wheels.  I was too afraid to take them off.  They kept me in balance.  They kept me from tipping over.  Kept me from falling and getting hurt. 

The thing about training wheels, they make a bicycle a four wheeler.

With training wheels on a bike, it is no longer what it was meant to be.  Bi meaning two.  Yeah the bike was still there, but it wasn't functioning the way it was meant.  Something was added to it.  Something that helped, but also hindered.  It kept the bike from it's true form.  Kept it from being what it truly was.  Eventually I worked up the nerve and had the wheels removed.

The bike was now what it was supposed to be.  I felt more confident.  I had more fun because I wasn't relying on the added on devices that kept me up.  I learned how to balance and move with the bike.  I still fell, and had spills, but I learned with each one.  I never became a cyclist, but I would ride a bike regularly for the next 7 years (until I learned how to drive.)  Even now I still have a bike, and I haven't forgotten how to ride.

So where am I going with all this?

We need to take the training wheels off of "the church."

I'm not going to dive into research and study that isn't mine and I haven't earned.  I'll talk individually with people if they want, but this isn't the forum for that.  At least not yet.

All I'm suggesting is that we step back from curriculums, models, workbooks, and formulas and dive into the Word.  It's ok to question and ponder why we do the things we do.  Some things are straight out of scripture.  Many are not.  It doesn't make them bad.  Training wheels will help you learn to ride a bike, but if you never take them off and always depend on them, you'll never become a real bike rider.  Just like with faith in Jesus.  If we always rely on others to support us, we'll never be able to do it on our own.

Dive into the Word.  Read the New Testament.  Matthew through Revelation.  Not necessarily in that order though.

Take the wheels off.  Don't be afraid of skinning your knee.  It will happen. And you'll learn from it.

Leaders, let the kids go.  Like a parent teaching a kid to rid a bike.  Eventually you have to let go of the seat and let them go on alone.  But we are never alone.  The Spirit is there to teach, train, lead and guide us.  And comfort us when we fall and get scratched up.

Look at what Jesus taught.  The words and imagery he used to convey the idea of the Kingdom.  Look at Paul and the other apostles lives.  Read their teachings to the early churches.  Take the training wheels off and let the Holy Spirit guide each believer.

The same Spirit that was with Jesus is in us.  So we should be able to agree on the simple things.  Everything else is just training wheels.  Yank those puppies off and start pedaling.  Each member striving after Jesus individually and together.  Everyone has a part to play.

The church isn't meant to be a mass of spectators watching a few trained professionals compete.  The church is every believer, not bricks and stone.

If you're worried you can't study the Word the right way...stop worrying.  God is with us.  He wants us to know him.  To love him, follow him, and love others.  He wouldn't have asked us to do something we were incapable of doing.

Each and every believer can read the Word and learn from God.

You can do it, you are not alone.  Keep reading, keep seeking God.  Let him teach you.

A shepherd doesn't lead his flock to pasture, bend down, cut grass, place that grass in the sheep's mouth, and make them chew and swallow and digest.

So why do we expect our "shepherds" to do that for us?

Take the training wheels off doesn't mean we all go it alone.  We live as body.  Together helping with daily life and spiritual life.  But it is the Spirit of God who causes us to grow.  I'm not suggesting you question your faith, or Jesus, or God.  All I'm asking is to look at how we express that faith, and hold it in comparison to what the Scriptures, and God actually tell us to do.

Hopefully, I'll see you in the doctors office with me getting bandaged up from time to time.

Can't Get Out of the Rain

My title comes from a song by Between Thieves "Privately" from their '94 self-titled album.  I was driving home after seeing a movie with a friend and another one of their songs came on my iPod.

"Security in frailty (Your touch I have found,) In brokenness I am made complete (I will lay it down)..."

If you're wondering, "where is he going with this?"  Trust me, there is a point.

I think.

God is doing a lot in my life.  Most of it I like.  Some of it, not so much.  But I know that the not so much will be good for me.  I need all of it.  This is the "lay it down," part.  I used to have a clear defined path of what I wanted my life to be.  What I wanted to do for God.  I even started writing a series of books in high school and college that mapped out (via a "version" of me) what that life would look like.

God has been slowly, and sometimes painfully stripping that vision away from me over the last 15 years or so.  What my imagination came up with only pales in comparison to reality.  Not because my life is so fantastic, but what God has done in me is beyond what I could hardly even have guessed at.

While I'm very aware of the changes God has done, I pray now, that others would see him more than me.  That I am; where, what and who I am...because of God.  Without him, well, I don't want to think about that.

Ok, I was getting to the laying down part right?  If we don't lay down what we cling to so dearly, even good things, things that God gave to us, we can not participate in the future/present he wants for us.  Think of Hannah finally getting her son Samuel.  God answered her prayer, and she only got to hold him long enough to wean him.  Then she gave Samuel to God for all his days.

Or Abraham.  God allows him to have a son with his wife, at last!  Yet while Isaac is still young(ish) God asks Abraham to sacrifice his child, to God.  (If you don't know the story, Abraham obeys with a heavy heart, but in the last moment, before he kills his son, God provides a ram instead.)  

God wants us to let go of the things we want the most, because we are what he wants most.

I don't have a son to sacrifice, or a son to offer to God for all the days of his life.  Right now, all I have is dreams.  And I don't know how to give them to God.  Dreams of a family, dreams of writing, of serving Him, of so many different things.  I don't want to loose them.  But I need to be willing to loose them or they get in the way of my relationship with God.

Like Moses and the Israelites, I've tasted the freedom from slavery, I've left Egypt at long last.  But now I'm standing with the Red Sea before me, and the chariots of Pharaoh bearing down behind me.  I want the Promised Land, but I still have a journey to go before I can get there, and then I will be ready.

I have no idea what the future holds.  I don't think I want to "know."  Sometimes I wish I was there already, but I don't want to miss the journey.  So I need to surrender my dreams to God.  I need to set aside what I think makes me strong.  To be frail, and broken.  Because like the song says, "security in frailty, in brokenness I'm made complete."

Like Peter leaping out of the boat and walking on the water toward Jesus.  "Look at me guys!  I am walking on the water!"  Then the waves roll, and he realizes..."people don't walk on water!"  Then Jesus catches him and Peter is safe.  In his moment of weakness, his broken pieces are grasped by the Creator of everything and he is made complete.  Peter's best moments are when he boldly reveals his frailty and Jesus teaches him.

So I need to let go, to jump out of the boat and make toward Jesus.

But the rain will come.  And I'll run and run and won't be able to get out.  Especially if I'm holding on to things, or picking up things I’ve already lain at Jesus' feet already.  At this point, my tired mind is reaching out to the movie "300."  

The scene at the end of the movie (SPOILERS!) when Leonidas is faced with Xerxes for the last time.  He is told he will be spared if he but simply  kneel.  He drops his shield, his helmet...he makes himself frail and broken (so to speak) because in order to reach his goal he can't be encumbered by the things he has wrapped himself in to protect him.  He lunges forward, free of those burdens and throws his spear...

Free of the stuff, he could move forward.  Get out of the rain, if you will.  Granted he dies moments later...but he was already willing to die.  To give his life for what he was fighting for.

I suppose what I'm getting at is Surrender and Trust.  We surrender to God, but he is not our enemy.  He is our king.  He takes from us the things we think we need, and becomes our refuge, our shield.  And that is what we put our trust in.  Our King.

We are made strong because He is strong.

Bridezilla - (by Jesse Arnold)

In a bright, sun lit room, a bride stands before a trio of mirrors.  Her hair is perfectly combed. It's sculpted and shinning.  Not a single flyaway.  She places her sparkling diamond tiara gently but firmly upon her locks.  She turns her head side to side, watching the jewels sparkle.  She bats her long mascara enhanced eyelashes at her own reflection.  Working on her best expressions.  She purses her lips, glistening that perfect shade of lipstick.  She smiles, her dazzling white teeth flash, a bright contrast to the just right spray on tan of golden brown.  The professional whitening, to remove all the build up from all the sweets and coffee that stained them.

She flashed a few more dazzling smiles at herself the began to look over her dress.  It is so beautiful.  So intricate and expensive.  The finest silk, pearls, you name it.  The finest dress that money could buy.  It clings to her body just enough to show off how hard she worked out, but was modest enough not to upset any grandparents.  The train was long and flowing.  It was just a touch off white, a soft ivory.  It accented her skin so well.  She sprays on some perfume, letting the sweet fragrance envelop her.

Today is her day.  It's all about her.  She hopes the groom is putting his tux on with as much care and effort as she put her dress on.  It doesn't really matter how he looks though.  Every eye will be upon her as she walks down the aisle.  She's been dreaming of this day for so long.  Forget all the flirtations and almost flings.  She saved herself for this, but she came close a few times.  Now, she wants those who rejected her, laughed at her to rue the day they did so.  Look at what they are missing out on.  She had worked hard to transform herself into the resplendent creature that stood looking out from three reflections.  Her shoes were the only problem.  She could hardly walk. But they looked so good.  Made her tall and slender form stand out above everyone.  They hurt her feet, but they were gorgeous.  Too bad no one could see them.

There's a knock at the door.

Angry she fumes to herself, who would dare disturb her!?  She needs to look her best.  Needs to let everyone see how much effort she put into her appearance.  The nerve!

The knock repeats.

Furious she stomps as loudly as she can, in her difficult shoes, to the door and flings it open...

"What?!"  she screams.

She sees her groom.  He looks at her.

The room is cold and damp and suddenly she feels ugly.  Her perfect hair is greasy and full of chemicals.  Her skin and teeth look garish and fake.  The make-up feels like sludge on her face.  The dress is a gaudy sack that is too tight and doesn't feel like it covers enough.

The groom sighs...breathing new life.

The cold damp walls melt away.  They stand now in a vibrant garden.  Full of green life and flowers.  The jewels and adornments blow away like feathers in the wind.  The grease washes out of her hair, it waves freely in the breeze, light and natural.  The make-up melts away, the tan disappears and her natural complexion shows forth.  A blush rises to her cheeks.  The mascara is gone, her eyes are clear and bright.  The sack of a dress shimmers and shifts as it becomes pure white linen.  Simple and clean.  Her shoes dissolve and her aching feet find relief in the fresh soft grass.

There is no audience.  There are no more onlookers for her to make jealous.  She is alone with the groom, before his Father.  She has been made new.  She is now like she was when he first saw her on the shores of Galilee.  The smell of the sea in her hair and the warmth of the sun on her face.  She lost all the trappings that she thought she needed to be a Bride.  Instead of just becoming the Bride he already knew her to be.

The Madness of Dreams (a poem - 02.02.2011)

the Madness of Dreams

the water submerged
beneath the feathered walls
the colors of tropics
descend in brown waters

large grey stones
absorb the warmth of light
stoic faces gaze out
countenanced to ward off the night

the soft collapse
of an avalanche
no less destructive
than an ant hill flattened

our deepest dreams
are darkest desires

a sure path
confounded by shifting walls
debilitating success
followed swiftly by
uplifting defeat

the top spins, wobbling
perched upon unfallen die
the pawn wears a crown
tapestry becomes a robe

the underside of the underneath
reflects the morning sun
as soil corrupts the snow
where death meets death
masquerading as vibrant life

a haunting from the future
a revelation of the past
the waters surge inward now
as we stumble off the ledge

a razor's edge we walk upon
within the world of dreams
our darkest desires
are deepest dreams

the path is wide
the distance shallow
the tight rope sways
the net is gone

stagnation equal to saturation
a bit too far
as perilous as
not quite far enough

dive in fast
do not hesitate
but know the stones
beneath the swollen waves

a rooster crows
the moon shines full
from nearby hills
horns sound loud
'Death!' cried out
in full life pursued

one lingering note of green
rides out
until the music fades

the glory of youth
for ever praised
upon some old man's grave

the leaves begin to turn and fall
away into the sky
the North wind blows in from the West
and home at last return the crows
into their sheltered nest

(by Jesse Arnold)