“Men are free when they belong to a living, organic, believing community, active in fulfilling some unfulfilled, perhaps unrealized purpose. Not when they are escaping to some wild west. The most unfree souls go west, and shout of freedom. Men are freest when they are most unconscious of freedom. The shout is a rattling of chains, always was.
Men are not free when they are doing just what they like. The moment you can do what you like, there is nothing you care about doing.”

Our community is currently a severed one, and we are all serving our own interests.  Most of them are completely necessary for where we feel we need to go.  I, myself, feel I am at a crossroads of many different destinations all of them leading me to very different parts of the country, or to stay in the one I’m in right now.  All of these roads have about a year until they can be taken; they are still being constructed.  All of them are intentional, I have to exit the road I’m on to start them.  I hope and pray any of these roads ends, or at least detours, where any of you are.  But I agree with Ian that this community must serve a purpose; must desire to fulfill some unfulfilled.  I think I want to end up in any community, be it ours or another, where that is happening.  That thought makes me wonder, how am I doing that now?  Am I at all?

Here is my article for this weeks Papyrus.

Why I Got a Tattoo This Summer

Here’s a Picture of My Tattoo

So, I got a tattoo this summer. It’s of the firefighter’s emblem. People usually ask me if it was because of 9/11 and I usually respond with “My granddad was a volunteer firefighter after he got out of the military” and leave it at that. I don’t often get into the story behind it with casual acquaintances because it would take longer than one or two sentences to do it justice, and I hate that. So, here I’m going to do it justice.

Last year was the hardest year of my life. Never have I been more depressed, or more upset, or angry; never have I struggled more before or since. Last year was rough. But somehow, it was also the best year of my life, and in remembrance of it I got a tattoo this summer on the inside of my right arm. It may seem rather strange that what I consider the best year of my life was one that contained the most struggles, but let me explain.

My grandfather, Charles Francis (Mac) Macri, died when I was two and a half. I do not have a single memory of him and everything I know about the man is second hand from Grandma Macri, Dad and Mom, other family and several home movies and pictures. He was a rough character, a Marine, who smoked for a while (because of the war) and he died of cancer but he was also full of love, both for his family and for Jesus. I don’t remember thinking of him much until I was around twelve years old when my father rededicated his life to God and started talking about Granddad.

Around that time, I can’t think of any other way to explain it except I started to develop a small attachment to this man. I’ve heard so much about him and I wish I had memories of my own. I’ve always felt kind of cheated that I didn’t get to have him in my life. The attachment became particularly strong at the beginning of last school year when my life started to get all mixed up.

I mentioned in a previous article struggling with pornography. The summer of ‘04 I did very well. I fell two, maybe three times all together. My girlfriend of nearly three years and I had a lot of trouble in our relationship over the issue as she felt it was a sin more against her than anything else; that I didn’t love her enough or she wasn’t good looking enough for me “not to do it.” I was strong that summer because of God’s grace but also because I was afraid to fall into the sin for fear of losing Jess as she had threatened to break up with me if I did it again (which never really happened, but she’d still threaten from time to time.)

This issue came to a head in October as I became utterly aware that as long as I was still struggling with pornography I was in no shape or form to be considering marriage. I talked to Jess, and told her I had to break up with her to deal with this sin because I’m incapable of handling it while still with her (because of the fear, which I identified later). She didn’t understand this, and, even though we got back together once after this was resolved, things were never the same between us again.

It was hard enough to deal with a sin that’s had six years of momentum, not to mention having to cope with a painful breakup, especially considering I turned my life upside down in the process. My parents had me disconnect the internet in my room, cut some hours out of my job, seek counseling (both on campus and when I went home), and make myself subject to accountability (I chose to have three different accountability partners.) I held it together okay on the outside but on the inside, I was a shambles. Whenever I would talk to Jess, my best friend, I just wanted to climb back into bed and sleep the day away. This went on with its up’s and down’s for the next five months.

While all this was going on, I was increasingly restless with the desire to run to my Grandfather for help but I couldn’t. I was angry with God that all this was going on; I was angry with other people who had their Grandfathers; I was angry with God for taking mine. I had a conversation with my Dad about this and I asked him what Granddad would say to me if I told him about this. My Dad revealed to me that he went through the same struggles when he was my age, and his father helped him through it. He told my father “Stick to your guns, son. Do what is right and do it better than the next guy” and for some reason these words resonated with me.

They resonated partially because they were the words of my Granddad to my father about the same situation I was in, but also because they were the words of God for me at that moment. Those two sentences struck a chord in my mind, and through a fictional conversation I had with my Grandfather in one of my journals, I found some closure. I was no longer angry with anyone; I was healed.

So, I got a tattoo this summer. It’s of the firefighter’s emblem. To commemorate both the memory of Granddad and the struggle he was a comfort through.

Here’s one of Granddad

This weeks Papyrus article:

Here is God’s Will

Why do we search for God’s will for us is like it is some sort of mystery? We act as if God has hidden it and it is now our task to pull out a magnifying glass and search underneath anything and everything to find it. I remember in high school thinking that I had to “figure out” what God’s will was for my life with what college to attend, what major to choose which all led to what job God wanted me to have as if the only part in “figuring out” God’s will was in my future vocation.

“Ask and it will be given to you… For everyone who asks receives” (Matthew 7:7-8).

Is God one who enjoys making Himself unattainable? God is not an unruly or unjust parent who does not grant to us what we ask of Him when we truly seek Him. God loves His children and wants us to know His will for lives. What then is His will for our lives?

I think I could go as far to say that God does not care one way or another where you go to school, what you major in or where you eventually land in the workforce. God can use a CEO in the same way He could use a missionary and a plumber in the same way a preacher.

I think what God really cares about is our hearts. To paraphrase Dr. Richard Huston, God’s will is not where you are going, but the person you are becoming. Martin Luther talked about how we all are to become as “little Christ’s;” this, friends, is the will of God that you have been searching for.

It seems to me to be a very simple yet extremely difficult thing to fully accomplish. Very simple in that if you’re becoming like Christ then you are being led by the Spirit in day to day choices; it becomes a natural thing that is done without specific intent. In turn, if you’re living by the guidance of the Holy Spirit then you are doing what God would have you do. In other words, you’re walking in the same direction Christ would, therefore you’re doing the will of God.

The extremely difficult part is that our sub-human selves often want to lace our shoes and go our own way. While we may be in Christ, we still sin. If we’re still sinning then we’re not living entirely under the Spirit’s influence. If that then is the situation, then being in the will of God must be a moment by moment experience. The question is no longer “What is God’s will for me [blah blah blah] years in the future?” but “What is God’s will for me in the here and now?”

What am I doing at this moment in time to be like Christ? How am I being persistent in loving the people I come in contact with like Christ would (which to me is the core of the will of God)? What am I doing to make my life a sacrifice for the poor, the orphan and the widow? These should be the questions that are motivating us in “figuring out” the will of God and let the details of where we’re going be worked out on their own by God Himself.

One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest

God, forgive me for being so foolish.