MORE THAN WE NEED

In the middle of his teaching about the Kingdom, Jesus was interrupted by a man in the crowd who said, “Rabbi, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.”

Now, this wasn’t out of the ordinary. Rabbis often settled legal matters such as this one, but Jesus is quick to point out to the man that he was more than a Rabbi, he was the Messiah who was proclaiming the Good News of the Kingdom.

Then, Jesus turns back to the crowd and uses the interruption as a spring board to warn them about the love of money, saying:

“Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.”

And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’ Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

“But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

“This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.” (Luke 12:13-21)

Essentially, God has blessed the man in the parable with more than he can use. Instead of sharing what he has with those around him living in poverty, he decided to hoard it all for himself. But before he can enjoy it, he dies that same night and loses everything.

Now, it’s too easy to make this a parable about rich people. Jesus doesn’t do that. He warns all of us not to put our trust in possessions and wealth, regardless of our current financial situation.

Truthfully, this parable has cut me to the heart recently. I’ve realized that Jesus is talking to me directly here. I’ve been living my life lately as if it is all about me and my comfort. Everything I do seems to have one single purpose at the center of it – to serve my flesh.

No, I’m not talking about anything as repugnant as lust or pornography here. I’m talking about the simple pampering of my flesh with endless entertainment, good food, and the basic desire to be made comfortable and happy at all times.

But that’s not my calling. I am called, as every follower of Christ is called, to lay down my life for others. I’m called to seek the well-being of others before I seek my own. I’m called to suffer for the sake of the Gospel and to take up my cross daily. That’s not comfortable or safe.

The wisdom of Jesus here is simple. Everything you and I own will one day belong to someone else. As Paul says:

 

“For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.” (1 Tim. 6:6-8)

 

This is what an Eternal perspective looks like. It’s why Jesus urges us to pray “Give us this day our daily bread” because our goal should be to live daily by the grace of God, not out of the abundance of our own sufficiency.

 

Simply put, the Kingdom is not about us. We need to let that sink in. Deep. The Kingdom is not about us. It’s about the King. Our part is to love Him and to love others as He has loved us.

 

One thing that sticks out to me in the parable that Jesus tells is the final word about being “rich towards God.” What does that mean?

 

I believe the answer is found in 1 Timothy 6:17-19:

 

“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.”

 

Am I rich? Compared to the rest of the World, yes. Compared to most people around me, no. But that’s beside the point. The simple truth is that I am just like the rich man in the parable that Jesus shares. I have more than enough for myself and my family. We have all we need and a little bit extra. So, what am I to do with that extra? I believe that Jesus is calling me to surrender all of that to Him – and myself – for the eternal work of the Kingdom.

This is only the beginning.

 

-kg

 

Wanting Less

“Jesus, the Blessed One, is poor. The poverty of Jesus is much more than an economic or social poverty. Jesus is poor because he freely chose powerlessness over power; vulnerability over defensiveness; dependency over self-sufficiency.” - Henri Nouwen.

I can’t fully express to you how profoundly this quote has impacted my heart. The implications for this are astounding for those of us who have decided to follow Jesus. Because if Jesus left the splendor of heaven to become nothing (see Philippians 2), then we should also step down from our earthly splendor and let go of our temporal wealth to follow Jesus into this intentional poverty.

I can hear some of you responding, “But, Jesus didn’t command everyone who followed Him to sell everything and give it to the poor. He only said that to the rich young ruler, right? Right?”

Right. And also wrong.

Yes, Jesus did tell the rich young ruler to sell everything and give it to the poor. That’s true. But he also said this:

“Anyone who does not give up all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:33)

Read that again. Jesus is talking to “anyone”. Other translations use the word, “everyone” if you prefer. But either way, the meaning is clear. If anyone wants to be a follower of Jesus they cannot do so unless they first give up all that they have. Everything.

I’ve said before that Jesus only asks us to give up one thing to follow Him. It’s called “everything.” But for some reason this verse, and that quote by Nouwen, hit me in a new way this week.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been noticing a tendency in myself to become more materialistic lately? Maybe it’s because I’ve been a little fearful to let go of things and to share out of my abundance with people who are in need?

I think another aspect of this is the idea that the poverty of Jesus was intentional. As Paul noted, our weakness unleashes “the power of Christ” within us. (2 Cor. 12:9) So, the reason for Jesus to intentionally step into a life of poverty was to demonstrate to us the importance of depending on God for everything. It was also to model for us the value of people over things and possessions.

If I’m honest, the idea of letting go of my things is painful for me; physically and emotionally painful. I look around my room at my favorite books, and toys, and cd’s and games. What if all of those were gone forever? I consider my gadgets, my cell phone, my iPod, my X-box, and my television. What would my life be like without those? I wonder what items I simply could never let go of or give away and what it might take for me to let go of them for good.

This question of giving up everything to Jesus is uncomfortable for me to consider. The idea of taking these words from Jesus seriously frightens me. And why does it frighten me? Because it’s the Holy Spirit asking me these questions. Because the truth is, there are some things that I do not want to let go of. Jesus knows that I have to surrender everything to follow Him. It’s time to drop a few things I’ve been carrying to make it the next few miles of the journey.

See, on the global scale, I am rich. Filthy stinking rich. I make more in a year than most people on this planet will make in several lifetimes. I live in Orange County, one of the most expensive and extravagant places in the world. I have two cars. I have a garage full of stuff. I own dozens of electronic gadgets and toys. I eat better than most everyone else on the earth. I have a disposal income. I am rich.

The bible has a lot to say about those who are wealthy. None of it is very positive:

“Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” (Mt. 19:23-24)

“He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” (Luke 1:53)

“But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.” (Luke 6:24)

“Now listen, you rich people, weep and wail because of the misery that is coming on you.” (James 5:1)

“Believers in humble circumstances ought to take pride in their high position. But the rich should take pride in their humiliation—since they will pass away like a wild flower. For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed. In the same way, the rich will fade away even while they go about their business.” (James 1:9-11)

Here’s what I know about myself; one of my love languages is “gift-giving.” So, when I consider my recent desire for materialistic objects the truth becomes clear – I am trying to create an artificial feeling of love within myself by giving myself these gifts. But these gifts to myself are temporal. They do not bring me any joy. In fact, they serve to create a comfort zone around my heart that insulates me from others, and from trusting God.

So, in essence I believe that the Holy Spirit is urging me to change my posture from grasping to giving. If I can begin to let go of my things I will discover that true joy is found in letting go. By sharing what God has provided to me with others, this wall of comfort will begin to come down, and my heart will have more direct access to God.

Not coincidentally, I’ve also been praying lately for God to allow me to bear fruit in my life for His kingdom. Two things are required for bearing fruit:

“I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

“Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (John 12:24-25)

So, the idea of letting go of my stuff involves dying to myself, and it involves sowing the seed of the Kingdom, and learning to trust in the Lord for everything. Not in my stuff.

Pray for me if you think of it this week. I’ll be continuing to seek the Lord about this and to begin sharing and giving away what I already have rather than seeking to gain more material objects that I do not need.

The irony? There are countless, priceless treasures in store for me as I cast away these temporal things and trust more in the God who loves me and gave Himself for me. He is a God who loves to give good gifts to His children.

-kg

**

More verses on wealth:

“You have lived on earth in luxury and self-indulgence. You have fattened yourselves for the day of slaughter.” (James 5:5)

“Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction.” (1 Tim.6:9)

“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.” (1 Tim. 6:17)

“The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature.” (Luke 8:14)

“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” (Rev. 3:17)

DROWNING

I have a healthy fear of the ocean. It’s the darkness of it. The enormous depth. The multitudes of creatures that swim beneath the surface – all capable of killing you instantly.

I don’t mind the shore. In fact, I love going to the beach and walking barefoot in the sand. I love the feeling I get when I hear the ocean waves and take in the endless horizon where waves and sky blur into one. My soul feels refreshed on the shore. I am safe. The dangers are few.

But if I go deeper I risk pain, and death. The riptides have the power to thrust my body out to sea. The jellyfish and the urchin threaten me with their sting. The shark and the eel and the sea snake can end my life with a single bite. Even the gentle whales terrify me with their immense size and power.

One of my earliest memories is of riding on my father’s shoulders as a young boy. He was walking out into the ocean with me on his back. “Are you touching the bottom, daddy?” I asked every few steps. “Yes,” came the answer. “I’m touching the bottom.”

Eventually we were far out to sea. My mom and my grandmother were small specks on the horizon. “Are you touching the bottom, daddy?” I asked again in disbelief. “Yes, son, I’m touching the bottom.”

But then the wave came. It hit us from behind as I was looking back towards the shore at my mom. One moment I was riding on my father’s shoulders in the warm Florida sun, and the next I was swallowing salt water, tumbling over and over again in the blinding foam.

I don’t remember how long I was under. But then I felt my father’s hands grab my arm and pull me to the surface.

My father and I sputtered and coughed as we bobbed on the waves. He was holding me tighter now. Tighter than I can ever remember him holding me before. I looked into his face and saw the fear. The panic subsiding, slowly replaced by pure relief. He started to laugh as his emotions shifted. He had his son back. But in my little heart his laughter sounded like a mockery.

“You lied,” I shouted. “You said you could touch the bottom, but you lied.” Then I started to cry. He pulled me closer and tried to comfort me, but if I could have I would have swum away from him in my anger.

Maybe that’s part of why I fear the ocean? At a young age I tasted firsthand how unpredictable it could be and how quickly it could snatch you from blissful serenity and thrust you into an unexpected encounter with mortality.

Last night I had a dream about the ocean. It threatened to swallow me alive. I felt that same taste of real fear just before I woke up. Then I lay there in the darkness and heard the voice of God in my ear. “I’m calling you into the depths,” He said. I knew that there was danger, and suffering, and pain, and even death beneath those dark waves. “This is not a metaphor. This is not a spiritualization. The pain and the suffering and the death are real.”

For nearly half an hour I lay there and considered these words. I admitted my fear. I confessed my preference for the shoreline, for the sand beneath my feet. I kept hearing the voice of God urging me to follow Him deeper into the dark depths.

The danger is real. The suffering is real. The pain will be real. The death will be real.

“Follow me,” came the voice again.

I got up from my bed and wandered into the den. I dropped to my knees and kept listening. How could I agree to this? How could I refuse? My decision to follow Christ was made a long time ago, but now it was being challenged again.

What if my cross was really about dying? What if following Jesus actually meant letting go of everything; my wife, my sons, my safety, my own breath? What then? What now?

I can tell you that my response was not immediate. I can tell you that the answer wasn’t automatic. My one request was for my sons. I wanted to know that they would continue to walk with Jesus after I was gone. I couldn’t ask the same for my wife, because I didn’t know if my decision was something we might experience together or not. But if she remained behind, my prayer was that she would be comforted.

It is God’s mercy that I do not know exactly what I am saying yes to. If I knew exactly then there is a very good chance that I would never agree to following Him that far. All I asked was that Jesus would go with me and that He would meet me in person when the ocean sucked that last lungful of air from my body.

This time I know that my Father has me in His grip. I know He will never let me go. I know that He can be trusted to carry me all the way home, safe at last to that other shore.

One last breath…

-kg

CONSTANTLY CRUCIFIED

My recent epiphany has come as the result of reading the book, Viral Jesus, by Ross Rohde. It made me realize how weak my faith had become lately. It brought me both a vision for what could be and condemnation for what I have been lacking in my walk with Jesus.

In response, God spoke to me through one of the letters of Fenelon in the book, Let Go, (which seems to have been written specifically for me). Here’s what I read the other day:

“Do not be like a person I just met a short time ago, who, after reading the life of one of the saints, was so angry about his own life in comparison that he completely gave up the idea of living a devoted Christian life. I know this will not be true of you.” (pg. 26)

So, in one book Jesus revealed to me how far I had fallen, but in another book he encouraged me not to give up hope.

What I’ve also realized in this process is that the areas of my life where I have failed to live out my calling as a follower of Christ are all due to the same failure to die to myself. I can vividly recall moments where I have allowed my fear of man to keep me from speaking the truth. I can remember the conversations where I held back the name of Jesus in order to protect my own reputation. I can replay the scene in my mind – over and over again – when I let an opportunity to share my faith in Christ slip away because I was not ready to suffer persecution for my faith.

In each of those moments, scenes and conversations what I lacked was a willingness to die, even a little bit, so that Christ could live in me. My cross was somewhere under my desk at work, or in the backseat of my car in the parking lot.

Suddenly I am aware that death to self is more practical and tangible than I imagined. Being thought of as “the Christian nut” by my coworkers is the fruit of embracing my own cross. Having people mock me for being “Joe Christian” is what it costs to follow my Jesus with everything I have. Suffering the contempt of my unsaved friends is necessary to the process of dying to myself. It’s also what makes it possible for the Gospel to impact the world I live in – and to impact my life as well.

Unless I die to my flesh, I cannot fully experience the resurrection life of Christ within me.

The real truth. The very shameful and painful and embarrassing part of it, is that I have loved myself, my status, my reputation, more than I have loved my friends and my coworkers. That is my own sin. That is what drives the nails deeper into my heart. I am horrible and selfish. I am the monster that needs to die. Let me crucify that worthless creature of arrogance and pride. I want those nails to pierce this flesh. I need to let this dark person taste the metallic flavor of death on his tongue.

Only Jesus can drive those nails. As much as I long to dance on the grave of this selfish bastard, I love myself too much to do the deed myself. So, please, Lord Jesus, make me to lie down on this rugged cross. Bind my wrists to this cruel beam. Press the tip of that iron nail into my hand. Lift that hammer, Lord Jesus. Drive it deep. Deep enough that it won’t come loose again tomorrow.

I need your life, Lord Jesus. I need to know the power of your resurrection by sharing in your sufferings. I need this constant, daily, crucifixion if I am ever to reach the end of this road and look up into your wonderful face. Only then may I lay down this cross of death. Only then may I lay it aside and rest in your comforting arms.

Until then, I pray, let me be constantly crucified and surrendered to your perfect will.

Let your Kingdom come, Lord Jesus.

-kg

FINDERS WEEPERS, LOSERS KEEPERS

In the Kingdom of God, things are upside down from the world we were born into. Those who lay down their lives discover new life. The first are last. Those who humble themselves are exalted. The greatest is the servant of all. Those who die to themselves daily discover life eternal.

But what is actually "upside down" is this world, not the Kingdom of God. God's reality is the rightside up one. Ours is the one that needs to be corrected, not God's.

Having been born into this upside down reality on Planet Earth, I am constantly struggling to see things from the perspective of God's Kingdom. It's not an easy thing to do.

For years I have wrestled with my own prideful heart. Perhaps I never had a fair chance at this since I was an only child and my entire life I've been the center of my own universe. At any rate, the fact remains that, no matter how many times I die to myself, this heart of pride just will not stay dead.

I lay back on the cross. I drive the nails. I roll the stone over the door. But my sinful, selfish heart continually rises from the dead.

I die daily. But my heart of flesh daily lives and breathes.

After all these years I turn around to see how far I've come on this journey of faith and instead I see that I have barely left the gate. In fact, I wonder if I have moved forward at all because I seem to be in the exact same place I have always been.

My heart is deceitfully wicked. I cannot trust my own inner man. Even when I believe I am serving others and living for Jesus my flesh has the power to reach out and subtly turn the spotlight back on my own ego.

Like the Pharisee, I confess that I have done my works of righteousness before men to be seen by them and celebrated. Of course, most of this is done subconsciously, but when I take the time to examine my motives closely I have to admit, there is still a part of me that does things so that people will see it and take note.

Last week, the Lord Jesus, in His mercy, held up the mirror to my soul again. He allowed me the briefest glimpse at my own selfish heart and it crushed me.

To my own eyes it appears as a dark, cancerous ooze in my soul. I cannot look directly at it very long without feeling sick. Yet, as much as I hate to admit it, this is me. This is who I am without Jesus.

For a long time now, I have mistakenly considered this prideful, selfish behavior as being like a Pharisee. Yet, now I realize that this is actually just part of being a human being.

It's my humanity that makes me selfish, and sinful, and hopelessly pathetic, not my "Pharisee-ness" (whatever that might be).

So, today I am trying my best to take everything one step at a time. I realize, once again, what it really means to have a "constant conversion" and to put to death my own status quo (Conversatio Morem!).

One great thing about all of this is that it reminds me to depend upon Jesus for everything. To the degree that I am in touch with my humanity, my weakness, my failure, I can appreciate the wonder and the majesty of God's amazing love and grace.

He is the vine. I am one of the tiny branches. Without Him, I can do nothing. Nothing at all.

"And now I know the secret that only losers keep, and I wallow in the hopeful tears that every finder weeps."
-kg

A Poem - [Surrender]

The ache is deep and without form
The syllables leave my mouth unspoken
While this unrest remains, embedded within.
Not in the wind, or fire.
Not in the earthquake, or rain.
Still. Small. Whispering endless
As deep calls to deep.
A weight upon my heart
If I knew the words
If I could speak the name.
Here in this place, at the end
awaiting the dawn, like a radio tuned to a dead station
signal to noise, heart in hand
eyes closed, breath shallow, quietly attuned.
Nothing left but faith and hope
and the greatest of these
I raise the white flag
I lift my hands high
I surrender
All

-kg

Family Death

My Mom’s oldest sister, Shirley, died last week.

I have never had any real connection to my extended family. Beyond my own Mother and Father, I only know my aunts and uncles and cousins from a distance, like familiar acquaintances who smile and make small talk over dinner every few years.

When I was still in First Grade my parents moved away from their own families in Tennessee and set their eyes towards South Texas. This is where I grew up. This is where my identity was shaped and my character was formed. I’ve actually thanked God for taking my family out of the environment I had been born into and transplanting me into a more modern world where race wasn’t an indicator of value and fear wasn’t a commodity.

Most of my childhood friends and several of my cousins who remained behind and grew up in that place are very different from me. I do believe that had I remained in the small Tennessee town where I was born I would have had a radically different life. I’m thankful to have left and to have had the life I’ve had so far.

Still, last night, laying with my head on the pillow, in the glow of an almost-full moon, I couldn’t help but wonder about the extensive family I left behind in Tennessee. They are the family I will never belong to. They are the flesh and blood that will never know me, and I will never know them—not as well as they know one another.

My parents were the city folk who left town and never looked back. We were the ones who would come back once ever few years for summer vacation or occasional family reunions, but as such we were visitors, tourists, in a place each of them called “home” and I knew only as a touchstone of childhood.

Today, as I consider the death of my Mother’s oldest sister, I am nursing an un-named ache deep within my chest. I have lost something I cannot name, but the more I contemplate this loss the more I know for certain that this loss is forever buried under an avalanche of years that I can never unearth or resurrect.

I am mourning the loss of a family that I was never fully embraced into to begin with. My yearning is for a place of acceptance among a people with whom I share a lineage and a legacy, but nothing more. We have no shared life, no shared memories, no deep connections beyond memories held like dreams in old photographs yellowed and fading in the sunlight.

Can I confess that I regret never growing old with those people? Can I admit that I wish with all my heart that I could have belonged to those people and that they could have known me and loved me as deeply as I now long to be loved and known?

My family, beyond my own parents, are like strangers to me. They do not know me. They have less awareness of me than the hundreds of Facebook friends who read my articles and respond to my status updates or make comments on my blog.

I am saddened to realize that these people will, one by one, all pass away from this life and remain strangers to me. My children will grow old and get married and have children and none of them will ever know or care. I will breathe my own last breath one day, and none of them will travel the hundreds of miles necessary to stand at my graveside or lay a comforting hand on the shoulders of my wife or children. This is my family. This is the tribe I will never know. This is the lost side of my soul that I can never excavate or replace.

Until today I didn’t realize just how much I needed them. Until today I didn’t know how much this missing piece of me mattered. But now I do. I realize these things too late. I understand the power of family when it’s of no use to me.

So, today as I say goodbye to Shirley Ferrell Wyatt, I mourn the family that I never knew. I pray for her son and her daughter who remain in my memory as elementary-aged children running barefoot on the Tennessee grass. I pray for the sisters who grieve their loss. I pray for the cousins who let go of their dear Aunt. I ask God to comfort them in their sadness, and I am grateful that they have one another to shoulder the burden during this time of regret. For that I am thankful. For that I give thanks.

Peace,
Keith

[Subversive Underground] - RIP

Well, it's done. After 3 years, and 180 articles on discipleship, the Gospel of the Kingdom, compassion for the poor and the New Testament Church, the free, weekly e-newsletter [Subversive Underground] is laid to rest.

I started the weekly newsletter as a way to send weekly ideas and articles to about 30 of my friends. Originally the intent was to create a motivation for me to write something of substance each and every week. Over time I began to focus on the concepts that were most important to me.

Over the years the newsletter grew to 272 subscribers. Most of them found me via my articles over at theOoze.com, Ginkworld.net, SeedStories.com, Next-Wave Magazine and other online sources. Many of them I didn't know and will never meet this side of eternity, but several of them took the time to contact me directly and encourage me or ask for advice. Some took the time to leave angry comments, attack my character and insult me. Others left comments that inspired me and directed the conversation into more productive directions. I'm very grateful to all of these people for their insight, their passion and their honesty.

When I first heard God's whisper about starting this newsletter I was working on a little sci-fi and comics project called Plastic Animal Studios and I felt that God wanted me to lay that aside in order to focus on more Kingdom-centric things.

Now, three years later, I am hearing God whisper to me again. This time He is asking me to lay down the [Subversive Underground] so that He can lead me somewhere new.

I have to let go of this thing in order to receive the next thing He wants to place into my open hands.

It's a little bit scary. A little bit sad. But it's also exciting to find out what God has next for me.

I'm sure I'll blog about it here when the time comes. For now, I'm looking forward to taking a few weeks off and listen to His voice.

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds." - Jesus (John 12:24)

For many years now I have been inspired by the phrase "Conversatio Morem!" which the early christians meant as "Constant Conversion!" or "Death to the Status Quo!" Now I think I understand this phrase even better than before. My status quo must die. I must be in constant conversion in order to allow the Holy Spirit to change me and for God to have His way with me.

Here we go...

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READY TO LET GO

A few months ago, after reading an article in Wired Magazine about screenwriter Charlie Kaufman ("Eternal Sunshine", "Being John Malkovich", etc.), I had an unusual thought. More like a question in my head really, but with a deep resonance like someone was tapping their finger against the tuning fork in my soul.

The question was, "What would you do if you weren't writing your weekly [Subversive Underground] articles?"

I put the magazine down. I sipped my coffee and rolled the question across the pallette of my mind. "What would I do...?"

The question took root in my soul with such a deep force that I had to stand up and walk around. I found myself heading for the front door and soon I was walking across the green grass on my front lawn and down the sidewalk and across the street.

"What if I didn't write my newsletter each week? What would I do instead?"

I've been writing my weekly e-newsletter for just about three years. The original intent was to have an excuse to write something on a regular basis and setting up a subscription feed to send my articles to helped motivate me to sit down and write something of substance - because people were expecting it to arrive and if they didn't get it I would be letting them down.

After 3 years I would have to say that it worked. Every week for the last 3 years I've sat down and written articles on discipleship to Jesus, God's heart for the poor, the Gospel of the Kingdom and my adventures planting a house church in Orange County.

Because of these articles I've been able to formulate my thoughts on these issues and self-publish two books, with more on the way, and I've heard from many people over the years about how my articles have encouraged them in their own walk with Christ. I've developed a sort of Internet Ministry of sorts, completely by the Grace of God, and I'm thankful for all of it.

But now, this question comes to me like a whisper and asks me to consider something radical - what if I let it all go?

Running this by a few of my friends I received mixed reactions. Some want me to transition the newsletter into a different direction, others encourage me to let it go and see what God does next. At this point I'm still not sure what exactly will happen when the final [Subversive Underground] has been sent and I am free from this self-imposed obligation to write something for 276 subscribers - mostly strangers from various places around the globe.

But, in many ways, it's the question that intrigues me. "What would I do?" I've thought about changing the newsletter to focus on others who are living subversive lives and serving others by doing a series of interviews. I've thought about asking my readers to share their thoughts with each other and open up the newsletter to everyone else to tell their own story. I've also thought about just challenging my readers to live more subversive and practice a life of service for the good of others and then turning off the lights and letting it all stop. But, honestly, I still really don't know yet what to do next.

Last week I sat at my keyboard and I really didn't feel like writing anything. I wished, out loud to myself, that the [SU] were already finished, but then I took a deep breath and prayed for inspiration and out came another article. So, maybe there's still a bit of this left in me for now?

Even more than the question itself, what I think inspires me most of all right now is the one who is asking me that question and the finger of Him who is tapping that tuning fork in my soul, sending out those reverbations of new possibility. What does God have in mind? Where is He leading me next?

I think the answer to that question isn't something I need, in my own finite creative mind, to dream up. I think it's more about obedience to the One asking me the question. Am I willing to let go of a list of 276 people who are reading my words each week? Am I willing to start over again with nothing? Am I willing to risk anonymity for the sake of the Gospel? Would I really abandon my tiny internet Kingdom to pursue the King of Glory and the Kingdom of God?

In my heart of hearts I know what I have to do. I know I need to lay it all down. I know that Jesus set an example for me that I need to follow. I have to let go. I have to say "Yes". I have to follow that whispering voice. Because He's my shepherd and I can't resist Him.

I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. — John 12:24

Right now I can't think of anything better than letting go in order to discover His perfect will.

-kg