Like it was yesterday...

Everyone has a story, and with every story a part of your soul is exposed.

Just like everyone else in this country, I, too, remember where I was and what I was doing on September 11, 2001.

I was waking up, just a few days into my junior year of high school. My alarm clock went off around 6:00 am Pacific time that day. I usually like to get up earlier because I don't like rushing my mornings. The alarm was set to station 103.3, a soft-rock station I grew up listening to in the morning while being whisked off to school. Craig & John, the hosts of the morning show at the time, said something about a plane flying into the World Trade Center. Being a non-morning person, I vaguely heard those words and just assumed a puny prop plane crashed into it, and went halfway back to sleep, shortly after the radio hosts casually mentioned their own memories of the WTC bombing nearly a decade earlier. Little did I know that I woke up 15 minutes after the first crash into the North Tower.

As I gradually got up, I heard the seriousness on Craig and John's voices climb steadily. I was all ready for school, and I went down to the kitchen where my dad was sipping his morning coffee and reading his newspapers. 

"Hey Dad, did you hear?"

"Hear about what?" he asked.

"A plane crashed into the World Trade Center."

"Sounds like an accident."

We flipped on the small television in our kitchen, and sure enough, every channel had live coverage of the North Tower pluming smoke and fire around it's upper mid section, the chatter of news reporters throwing fact and rumor in every direction as reports and tips came streaming through. That's when I realized it was more serious than I thought, but still considered it an accident. 

That's when the second plane came. I was probably in the bathroom, but I didn't see it happen. My dad told me about it. Then I knew, mostly because the news reporters were saying it, that this was no accident. 

My dad said all we can do right now is pray. So on my way to school, I did that, but I still wasn't emotionally affected by this disaster. It wasn't in perspective to me yet.

I got to school, and every TV available was plugged in to some random classrooms throughout the school watching the news coverage. Every teacher was late to class because we were all watching. By the time I got there, they were replaying coverage of the South Tower collapsing, the damage at the Pentagon, and shortly the news of Flight 93 crashing in Pennsylvania came in. Then I saw the North Tower collapse live, and the skyline of NYC was changed forever.

Already the reliable grapevine of any high school, fellow classmates were saying they heard the White house had suicide bombers holding the staff members hostage, and the State Department was hit by a car bomb. Obviously, none of that was true, but you couldn't help but wonder on a day like that.

When I first heard about the damage and the potential amount of people who died, I didn't feel anything. Don't kill me, but I originally thought that the victims were lucky, especially those who could have been Christians. I was like "dude, they get to go to heaven!"

Yes, I lacked some tact as I mentioned this to a few of my classmates. But as the gravity of the situation permeated into each class session, the discussions, the tears, and the great cloud of sorrow started hanging over every person in this country, I realized how wrong I was to think such things in a great tragedy. Yes, I know it to be true that if there were some Christians in those buildings or in those jets, they are celebrating eternity with our Heavenly Lord as I write this. Yet, the sudden impact of human loss in this country united us. Historians were saying how this made Pearl Harbor look like minor in comparison. In my English class we wrote down our thoughts and prayers, as a few of my classmates cried tears of worry and sorrow for family and friends living in NYC. 

I did come to my senses, and the emotion did start running through me as I went to youth group the next night, hearing the casualty count continue to rise throughout the days and weeks. 

Each American has this memory of human loss, yet I find it ironic. I remember discussing this with a dear friend of mine shortly after the attacks, and he gave me a slap in the face with this:

"Now we know how the Middle East feels with all the violence they see every day."

He wasn't trying to justify the attacks. No justification will ever make these attacks seems remotely good. He was trying to make me understand that we do live in a bubble here in America, and the freedom we do enjoy is abused, neglected, and taken for granted on a daily basis. The invulnerability of this country was shattered, just like the egos of the builders of the Titanic, or the creators of the Tower of Babel. 

Maybe these attacks happened because this country needs a wake up call; that we aren't the only ones on this planet that matter. The international outreach of the country was strong, but it needs to be stronger as the world gets worse. We keep slapping the snooze button, unaware of the rotting that is happening, and not looking out for each other. Instead, we choose party sides, bash each other, horde resources, and spend money like it's going out of style. Are we the rich fool of Luke 12, thinking that the success we have is ours? Do we forget that this is unofficially (and hopefully stays that way) a Christian nation, and that what we have is just on loan from God?

We love claiming the good for our own, and place the bad as God's fault. How much more so is to realize the importance of God's love? His love isn't set by our standards. His love doesn't have an agenda. His love doesn't require a contract. For better or for worse, He loves us. As a nation, if we realize this, God's kingdom would soar, like our symbolic bald eagle.

I'm usually full of crap. And I had a long day at work.

Don't worry about it.

To All Those Politically Inclined To Speak Their Mind...

... I need some guidance. As I have kept a reluctant eye on our nation's politics over the last several months, I can't help but let my disdain for politics prevent me from analyzing and critiquing my decision-making before November 4th.

I hate politics, mainly because I hate the two-party system, and how it resembles the separation between denominations within the Church body. I despise how money and lobbyists have influenced politicians to waver in their beliefs and promises, only to find most of them corrupt in their own right through their many vices. 

I used to be a blind Republican, thinking that a party who supports anti-abortion was good enough, when there's more to politics than I'd like to shake a stick at. Now I don't trust either party, because I believe the GOP has betrayed me trying to pocket Evangelical Christianity as a meal ticket, while too many times I've seen the Democratic party waver too much in their beliefs and bend at will to popular demand.

I need opinions and insights from both sides of the political line. I do not know enough about, nor trust, either candidate for Presidency. I fear that Obama, though he would be a fresh face, an outsider bringing "Change," does not have enough experience, especially in foreign policy, and I think McCain's old enough to have a dinosaur as a pet, is not in tune with the "common man" in this country, and will croak three months into office if elected.

Please respond and tell me what you think, because I'm a big "undecided."

Meanwhile, I agree with much of what one of my favorite authors finds important before his benediction at the DNC in Denver this past week:

Don Miller's interview with Christianity Today

Breaking

Right now, I'm sitting in one of the best coffee shops in the world (Chapters, if you're sheltered and uninformed) reading blogs by dear friends and news stories from around the world. As my body once again asks "why aren't you getting registered for classes?", I think about the time I have spent since I finished my 17th year of education (about 6 of those years actually counted). 

Since January this year I've had my regular schedule of working my three jobs: part-time youth pastor, part-time YMCAer, and part-time sweat shop worker at a sign shop, my bread and butter. If it weren't for my jobs, I would not be living here in Newberg or being involved in the ministry at my church that sometimes feels like it's growing. I would not have seen the small, yet significant transformations among the people in my congregation who went and experienced San Francisco and realize there's a world outside of certain sheltered areas of Oregon. I would not know the good people who have become family to me, and I would not trade the last two and a half years for anything. 

Yet... in a community such as Sherwood, where people seem to have "everything together" in the 19th best place to live in the States, a desire for change as Ghandi would say is not exactly on the forefront of this community's mind. I have the advantage of working at the Teen Center here, and I get to see the vulnerable states of the apples which have fallen off their trees. The word "potential" doesn't even describe how much people in this community are capable of. 

Yes, I have been frustrated many times doing the work of vocational ministry here. Combining my experiences of mega-church Crossroads and pint-size Willowbrook have given me such a broad amount of perspectives within the Church itself. The work is never done. Constantly I have to remind myself of the many servants of God who were faithful to their work yet never saw result until they were long gone. Abraham never saw his people outnumber the stars, Moses never saw the Promise Land, David never saw the Temple, Elijah thought he was alone, Stephen never saw the Early Church grow, and Isaiah thought God's people were nuts! There have been times I felt like the work I've done has been a waste of time!! I feel like I should be taking advantage of my singleness, go globetrotting, find the places in need of God's love and grace, searching for those who are lost! Why am I rotting here when I see my close friends become God's hand on His outstretched arms across the world like in Thailand, Uganda, Japan, China, Holland, Romania, Mexico, San Francisco, Namibia, Madagascar, Louisiana, and Malawi?!

Yet... I remember that it's not my work doing anything here. Not in my 23 years of existence has my "work" with either Crossroads, Willowbrook, or even Northside in my random visits there, had anything to do with those churches' vitality and ministry! I have NOTHING to do with Willowbrook's existence. No one can claim that. This church would still be where God wants it to be whether I was introduced to Pastor Dean or not.

For those of you out there working in some type of ministry, locally or internationally, I take to heart that each of you has struck a chord in my life that resinates as a reminder that you are where you are because God wants you there. I know that somewhere within my arrogance and pride that God has wanted me here since I was born, and I will remain here until further notice. God constantly reminded Isaiah to keep going... to keep pressing God's message to His people, no matter how they respond. I pray that I may be reminded of that constantly. 

... as I watch...

I'm starting to understand why we love the Olympics so much. 

Little do we know that most of the sports we watch with such intensity every four years do actually occur more often between each Games. There are world championships, national championships, and other events all over the world that involve each of these sports. We just don't bother watching until those five rings appear across the screen with Bob Costas starting to follow in Dick Clark's never-ending footsteps.

The Olympic dream is something I could never quite figure out. I have played my fair share of sports, and I have dreamt of biting that shiny medal around my neck as a child. I've watched the Olympics since the original Dream Team in Barcelona in '92, the Kerrigan-Harding saga in '94, Michael Johnson blinging his gold chain and matching shoes into the record books in the 200 and 400 meter dashes in Atlanta '96, Jonny Moseley making skiing cool again in '98, former Tarheel Vince Carter "poster-izing" a 7'2" player in Sydney '00, the Canadian pairs Sele' and Pelletier skaters getting ripped off by a bad French judge in Salt Lake City '02, Shaun "The Flying Tomato" White taking gold in a halfpipe in Turino '06, and Michael Phelps getting 14 gold medals in Athens '04 and Beijing '08. I don't think I'll ever stop watching the Games.

That's when I realized why I watch it. The other night, when Phelps was going for history in the 4 x 100 meter Medley Relay, after Jason Lezak held on to a half body length lead in the anchor to give Phelps his 8th straight gold medal in these Games, the broadcast showed a replay of LeBron James and Kobe Bryant in the stands. Did you watch them? Most famous athletes or Hollywood stars who've graced other sporting events don't cheer like these two did (namely, David Beckham in the Staples Center, or any famous person hiding out at an NHL game). They were kids.... just kids, screaming, cheering and almost leaping out of the stands in ecstasy from the achievement the world just witnessed in Phelps. I mean, did you see the hat LeBron was sporting? It reminded me of Scotty Smalls' enormous duck billed fishing hat from "The Sandlot." On top of that, Kobe asked for a picture with Phelps! When was the last time Kobe asked someone, or anyone, for a picture during his illustrious career?!

Ahh, the pureness of sport. I know money is involved in these Games after the Closing Ceremonies, and I'm sure Phelps will probably hit pay dirt enough to retire twice. However, in that moment, with two of the greatest players in the NBA, willed on a bunch of relatively unknown swimmers (save Phelps), who only get recognition every four years, to reach gold. They were proud that someone else accomplished something amazing. The Redeem Team itself is reforming its image and accomplishing pure basketball during these Games, taking out the "me first" image we have had pounded into our minds for so long. I was proud of watching three American women I've never heard of sweep the women's individual sabre in the first days of competition. I tuned in to watch two Americanized Chinese women compete in ping pong doubles late at night. Patriotism runs through everyone's veins. Everyone likes common ideals.

As I've grown up watching these Games, I also watched my close friends grow up. Why am I mentioning this? I feel like groups of friends have common goals, just like the United States is hoping to achieve gold. Some of my closest friends are pursuing an ultimate goal: to spread God's kingdom. I find myself cheering for them, just as much as LeBron and Kobe cheered on Phelps. One of my best friends will be heading to Holland for about 5 years in a few weeks, along with his wife and newborn son. As much as I love being around him, feeding off of his wisdom, and sharpening each other, I know in my heart that I will be his #1 fan during his tenure in Holland. I will cheer him and his family on as they plant a youth ministry in Amsterdam, and pray for him when they reach out to the lost.

I find that as Christians too often we look into ourselves, say "me first & gimme gimme," and say we love, cherish, and grow our faith when in reality we don't. We're like those seeds among the thorns. We're growing, but we're letting too many things hinder us from producing any fruit. The fruit that those athletes reap is the honor and respect they deserve for their hard work, their dedication to their sport, and the MANY sacrifices they've made to get there. I'm positive that Phelps sacrificed most of his teenage social life, and maybe some of his young adult life, to become the greatest in his sport. That's his fruit, and he deserves it.

As for those cheering on Phelps, they get the satisfaction that they supported, saw, and shared this experience with him and the world. They set aside everything they wanted, and for brief moments watched someone sacrifice everything to achieve this goal.

What would the world be like if we started setting aside our wants and desires? What if Christians in this country set aside the desires of the "American Dream," and started desiring Christ's desire to save those who are lost? As nations set aside their differences every four years (well, two years), they cheer on for the sake of sport. When will we set down our pride and lust for absolute dominance as "Christians" and just cheer on for the sake of God's kingdom ?

Olympical moment

Just so everyone knows, I got in an accident last week. Nothing bad. Fender bender. My insurance took care of it, though it was my fault. For now I'm driving a Chrysler Sebring '08, WAAAY above my pay grade.

When I dropped my Honda off at the repair shop Monday afternoon, I was making small talk with an elderly-ish secretary in the waiting room while I passed the time for Enterprise to pick me up. I casually asked her if she's watched any of the Olympics this past weekend. Me being a big sports fan, I understood in my head that most non-sports fans usually watch the Olympics because, well, they're the Olympics.

"No, not at all actually."

"Really?" to my surprise. 

"Growing up, my parents made us kids watch the Olympics whenever they were on. We had one TV with only a few channels, and it was either that or play outside."

"Oh. I see."

On a normal day, I would've passed right over that statement: "My parents made us kids watch the Olympics...." Seriously, I don't think I would ever hear that statement ever again if I tried. Maybe that was the problem. I had such an expectation that any average American would "show patriotism" and watch our teams hopefully succeed, that I didn't consider not watching to be an option. 

Does this same concept apply with our entire lives? Does "assuming" really make an @$$ out of you and me? Do we assume that homeless people are homeless because they don't work hard enough, or the rich yuppy down the street who we think has it together? Why do we assume? Is it human nature to assume, to make judgments, to cast doubt on people for how they act or what they look like first glance?

How about the millions of teenagers in this country who are assumed to be irresponsible and not have hopes and dreams and ideas?

How about giving our nation's leaders the benefit of the doubt that they might actually know more than we think we do?

I could continue, but I don't want you assuming anything.

I Left My Heart...

... In San Francisco

The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay

The glory that was Rome is of another day

I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan

I'm going home to my city by the Bay

I left my heart in San Francisco

High on a hill, it calls to me

To be where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars

The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care

My love waits there in San Francisco

Above the blue and windy sea

When I come home to you, San Francisco

Your golden sun will shine for me      - Tony Bennett

It's been a few days since I and 13 others from Willowbrook traveled 12 hours on the road to and from San Francisco, the first missions trip in the history of this small church. Needless to say, I was very excited. As I have watched our tiny church grow spiritually over the last 2 years, this trip was a long time coming. When I learned we started planning this trip over a year ago, I couldn't help but notice how young our church was spiritually. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of growing to do myself. Only a small handful of the church have done a kind of missional work, while the rest have mainly stayed around the Portland metro area. 

When I spearheaded Harvest Share with a fellow FM church in the St. John's district in Portland, I thought those in our church would be rearing to go. Food pantry stuff is our specialty, so I thought the transition would be easy. It wasn't as much as I thought, but it helped us make connections with fellow Free Methodists around the area. 

Then Night Strike. Night Strike was a slow warmup for many in our church. However, as time progressed, and as God's Spirit started tugging on people's hearts, more came, more saw, and more experienced what it's like to reach out to find the lost, just as Christ tells us in many of His parables. Night Strike is a God-send. I believe Night Strike was a tremendous stepping stone for many of our members; preparing their hearts and minds for what God has called them to do.

Then San Francisco. The Golden Gate City. It was like a gentle smack in the face. When we pulled up to the YWAM on Ellis, right in the middle of the infamous Tenderloin district, the faces were instantly etched on our souls. Homelessness, drug peddling and abuse, alcoholism to name a few were there in the open. All we had to do was open the door, walk outside, and there it was. What intrigued me most about this area was the concentration. There's the Tent City folks here in Portland, but nothing of this magnitude. 

The police allow all of this corruption and sin run rampant in this area of town. It's ALLOWED! We heard so many stories of how the police would pick up people who "belonged" to the Tenderloin from around other areas and drop them off in this district like they were yesterday's garbage, and the district is the dumpster. 

When we talked and interacted with the rejected and down-trodden, the stories they shared were truly amazing. They've experienced more life than the brokers I saw on Market street chatting each other up about their summer homes. They don't even know how their underbelly is rotting, yet they have the gall to talk and pass the homeless as if they were invisible!

Many people of different backgrounds came to the Tenderloin to serve those who were down. The more who came, the more hope I saw on those weary faces. Just like how I see parents in Sherwood abandon their kids, I see a city, a country, abandon the homeless, the drug abusers, the alcoholics, and cast them aside. HOW?!?! 

I ask you that.....

Flickers

Movies I want to see this summer (and why)!

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

- Because C.S. Lewis is a genius, and the movie will somehow not match him but still be good

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

- Harrison Ford is one of my favorite actors. And seeing this old fart moving around like a true Indy will be hilarious

The Happening

- I love true suspenseful, scary movies. M. Night Shymalan (sp?) rocks.

Hancock

- July 4th weekend + Will Smith + drunken superhero = awesome

Kung Fu Panda

- I'm Chinese. and Jack Black rocks. Get over it.

Hellboy II: The Golden Army

- Anti-hero classic. Who doesn't love a smart alec demon who smokes cigars like they were going out of style?

The Dark Knight

- Two words: The Joker. Looks like Heath Ledger (may he rest in peace) has nailed this one.

It's hot outside. I hate hot weather. The coolness of a theater will be welcoming.