Prayer: Put Up and Shut Up

To whomever is listening:

It’s me again. It seems like life is tossin’ me a bunch of crap and I'd much prefer you toss me something better, like a well deserved break or even a nice cold one from time to time. Aside from my personal problems you know already know about the Browns are forcing me to lose hope, the Buckeyes defense failed to show up in the big game just like my ‘A game’ failed to show up on my last date and all this reading for school is making me go mad; not to mention, now that I’m 28 my knees seem to be cracking more and my hair is thinner (Just out of curiosity why didn’t you create man to have a flawless mane like Beckham?).  I digress, you know this is all starting to become pretty overwhelming…

Too often we pray as if The Big Guy is our own personal therapist who is on call 24 hours a day. We unload our problems and ramble on about what’s on our minds. We act as if we’re talking to Dr. Phil who will magically give us instant feedback on how to get our life put back together. Our prayers often become a wish list of good health for the ones who are hurting and all the ‘what if’s’ in our lives, but when it comes down to it how often do we pause in prayer and let the One who is always lending an open ear add it’s two cents worth?

The beauty about prayer is that it’s powerful and the amazing thing about God is that there is always someone listening, but like any healthy relationship there must always be two way communication. It’s impossible to hear anything when we’re making all the noise and unfortunately it’s too easy for us to forget that. Do you hear what I'm saying?

We are told in Scripture that as we pray we must find that ‘inner room’ and close the door and pray to God in private. Meaning, that we are to find that place where we can be away from friends, foes and fears and find that place in our hearts to cry out to him sincerely and in secret. When praying we don’t need to babble or use many words because our Father already knows what we need before we even think to ask him (Matt 6: 5-8).

If we can just remember to simply pray and then listen we are eventually destined for hope, for guidance and for so much more. Maybe not today or tomorrow or when we'd like it to be 'due' by, but eventually. On God's time. First we must conquer praying with simplicity and with devotion so we can avoid a rambling ‘woe is me’, Dear Abby prayer. Then as we find that simplicity and purpose we have to shut our trap and listen…probably the hardest part. But hey, remember the Big Guy already knows what we need before we ask so let’s just start listening.

Until next time…

The Garden of Weedin'

This spring I took on a new endeavor of getting a plot in a local community garden. After cooking all winter with 'fresh' veggies and herbs from the store I would have a trash can full of wrappers and a recycling bin piled high with cans. Then it hit me that it would be so cool to take on a garden...until I stood at the edge of the garden for the first time and had to weed the damn thing.

When I visited the plot after some time away an entire forest of greenery had grown around my plants. I knelt on the hard, cracked dirt to pull weeds around my 'harvest.' As I fought off the discomfort of kneeling for a couple hours on a thin piece of foam it dawned on me how unbelievably frustrating this whole thing seems. In the grand scheme of things a 20x20 plot is truly nothing, but doing it alone - and without a clue of what I'm doing - seems damn near impossible.

The ground was tough to break through and the dense weeds appeared to stand taller, as if sticking its chest out in the air to boast that it had beaten me. The moment that I thought I was making progress I looked beyond the three foot radius of my initial assault on the annoying agriculture only to see that I had another 391 square feet to go. It was discouraging, demoralizing and worst of all, painful. I felt alone on a tiny dirt island of doubt thinking that maybe I had taken on too much as I was surrounded by a sea of green leafy weeds.

Near the end of my late afternoon’s work, I arrived at my final plant. A hot pepper plant, standing nearly one foot tall. On it, hidden underneath a flawlessly shaped leaf, was the tiniest little thing that almost resembled a miniature pepper. A pepper that two weeks ago did not exist and around that plant was the intoxicating aroma of the spicy cilantro from nearly three feet away.

When I had finished weeding I watered the little guy and the other sprouting veggies, herbs and melon surrounding it. Then it hit me that maybe, just maybe, all the sweat, pain and sun could be worth it. That even through the pulling of the weeds (that will grow back in a few days) and muscling through the man eating garden spiders and laughing off the old retired men at the plots around me laughing at my attempts to garden, just maybe this will be blossom into a bountiful harvest. An end of summer reward for all the long hours, hot days and frustrating fun in the sun.

Our faith is a lot like my garden endeavor if you think about it. In order to have a great harvest you can't just sprinkle a little water on your plot every once in a while and expect a great outcome; much like you can't pray every once and again to expect miracles or a relationship with God to blossom in your life. In attempting to grow spiritually you will feel weak and intimidated, lost and alone, doubtful and distraught, just as any true warrior of the top soil may feel taking on the forest of constantly growing weeds. Our weaknesses towards certain temptations creep up as quick as those weeds; that no matter how many times you pull them, and no matter what you do to treat them, they always seem to creep their way back.

In Matt we read that the harvest is “abundant but the laborers are few (Matt 9:37).” There is so much goodness for us to receive in our own lives as long as we are following the righteous path and living a life full of love, but so few willing to take on the task. The harvest can be daunting, overwhelming and lonely, much as it was when I first stepped foot in the plot overwhelmed by what stood before me. I went into the task of gardening knowing that I’d pull some weeds, water some plants and boom…I’d have food. But it’s not that easy nor that simple, just like our faith. In our own lives we know exactly what it is we need to do (on paper) to be happy, to love and to get into Heaven, but we still become overwhelmed by the realization that we actually don’t know how to do it properly. The Bible, just like a Gardening for Idiots book, explains to us what to do along the way and how to overcome many different challenges, it’s just a matter of us properly following what has been shared and then applying it daily.

Even the best of gardeners and farmers have a lousy harvest from time to time and even the most disciplined of theologians struggle spiritually. It’s just a matter of us trying to keep those pesky weeds and weaknesses at bay by getting to them at their roots. And to do more than just sprinkle a little water from time to time or pray when we only want something. We must overcome the weeds in our lives and love daily, even through the hate, the disgust and the pain. It is then, and only then, that along our path we may see the fruits of our labors and see how truly abundant the harvest truly is. It just takes overcoming one weed at a time.



But we must always remember that no matter how many weeds surround our harvest and no matter how much we must endure to see the fruits of our labor

Pity party of one

There comes a time in your life when you are suddenly forced to stare down the barrel of a gun known as reality. It's like the portion of your hike where you are forced to follow a trail that you think should be the easiest, but becomes the most gut wrenching, grueling section. Where the end of the Alpine Zone meets the start of your final ascent towards the summit. You know, where the rocky terrain of no return begins. That time of your journey upwards where you can see the summit, it appears within your reach, but the finish line is nowhere in sight. Where at every bolder and every traverse comes loose rocks and blustery gusts of wind violently toss you around. The air is as frigidly cold as it is thin and lonely. That is where I am along this mountain I am currently on and it took me three days in the place I love most, several short comings and a hopeless bottle of emotions to bring it all to light.

For the first time in my life I could not wait to leave Columbus. If I could have, I would have left before it even began. I was actually happy to leave. Enter stage right, pity party #6. During the past few months, since returning home from the mountains of Maine and New Hampshire, I have been Mr. Positivity, only experiencing enough Pity Parties that could be counted on one hand. I've remained positive, vigilant and faithful along this journey up until the last few days.

It didn't hit me until talking to my spiritual director that we are often faced with these black out days of doubt just to remind us we are human, just to thank God for being with us along the way. I was not taken back when I heard my spiritual director tell me that he has "been waiting for me to come down from all my positivity." It was then that I was again reminded that it is not my Will that shall be done, but for someone much more righteous than I.

One of my favorite musicians, Matisyahu, puts it best "Sometimes in my tears I drown, but I never let it get me down, so when negativity surrounds,I know some day it'll all turn around, because all my life I've been waiting for, I've been praying for..." It took recently downloading this song, a trip chalk full of mislead expectations and personal wants, and a phone call to my spiritual director to be reminded that it is not my way that will make me happy, but His. Not to mention a perfect reminder from one of this weekend's readings. It comes from Isiah:

Thus says the LORD: Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the desert I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers. The people I formed for myself, that they might announce my praise. Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob, for you grew weary of me, O Israel. You burdened me with your sins, and wearied me with your crimes. It is I, I, who wipe out, for my own sake, your offenses; your sins I remember no more.

It's funny that as I imagine myself a candle trying to stay lit among a hurricane of questions, temptations and fantasies of how life is "supposed to be" God just takes a 2x4 and just whacks me in the face to remind me of His words that he will help me, guide me and give forgiveness along the way. A humble reminder as I prepare for the coming Lenten season. A season where we are called to give alms (serve others), pray (talk to the Lord) and fast (sacrifice).

That as I begin another pity party for myself I see that there is no better time to continue on this path towards the mountain's top than now. There is no better way to seek out the remainder of this grueling trek through uncharted territory than to give to Him through alms giving, prayer (only He knows how much of that has been going on and how many expletives have been shared) and fasting. It's only wrong for me to think that I can do it my way and only by myself.

Just as Matisyahu puts it in his song 'Silence' "...Although His silence kills me...I wouldn't have it any other way..." and right now I wouldn't have it any other way.

Until next time...

The rebirth of masculinity

Man: (1): an individual human; adult male human (2): husband (3): lover hominid: one possessing in high degree the qualities considered distinctive of manhood: the quality or state of being manly: manliness.

I am not a man. I am not a man's man. Nor am I manly, but I sure as hell try my hardest. I am not the ultimate man, an alpha male or anything but a guy on a quest to follow in the footsteps of many men who have come before me in pursuit of seeking out how to be a man, the best man I can be.

This week has been a wonderful opportunity in the pursuit of becoming the man I want to be. It involved manly workouts, an interview for a cool job, a talk from Fr. Larry Richards about surrendering/ being a man and a "mans weekend" with my Dad and other guys whose wives are all out of town on a girls weekend. All in all this week got me thinking. What has happened to men and masculinity? Mostly my generation

I watched another Super Bowl where the commercials portrayed men as weak, uncivilized, inferior, playing second fiddle to women and dumber than a Hollywood A-lister talking politics and family values. Yet it seems like we, as males, except this and enjoy this depiction...why?

We live in a day in age where a man no longer is the protector and provider in the family. Where a man must be tamed, equal and exhibit femininity to be "acceptable" by social standards. We live in a society that deems a man of faith as a religious zealot - instead of disciple, a man who explores the deepest depths of the world's precious beauty as a social outcast - instead of explore and a man who is destined to make a difference in the world as a renegade inspired by becoming the alpha male - instead of a revolutionary.

PSA: I am a gentleman. I have no qualms with women and believe men and women alike are equal. I respect women and believe they've earned the right to have the equality they have gotten through a tough fight...I digress.

Fr. Larry Richards brought up a good point in his talk Thursday: It wasn't Eve's fault for giving into temptation in the garden, it was Adam for he failed to protect Eve, jump in front of her and defend her. It's been a gradual decline ever since. Men, of my generation, no longer have a voice. A spirit. A sense of adventure. A need for more. A drive to grab life's challenges by the throat and toss them aside. A desire to be the hero. A backbone to take a stand and bring back faith as their foundation of their lives. To suck up their ego and attempt to emulate Christ in every way. To live a principled, morally driven life. The days of old are long gone. Men like Washington, Jefferson, Thoreau, MLK, Wayne, Sinatra, Reagan are mere images of masculinity's past. Men who laid the foundation for true manliness.

Just the other day I set out on a hike. I had all afternoon and a short hike ended up being nearly 11 miles just to introduce some sort of adventure into these early days of February. I just kept going. Turn after turn, ascent after descent I kept making my way deeper into the quiet world of nature. It was glorious. And as I mentioned from the start I am not a man, nor am I a "man's man," but I came to a creek I had to cross. I was unable to follow the trail across as it was too deep, between knee level to more than four feet, and too cold to attempt. I searched for a way across and decided the only way to get across, dry, was to improvise a bridge. For 30 or 40 minutes I collected long branches, heavy logs and anything I could to create a sturdy structure. I was muddy, sweaty and wet but with my knack of adventure and my drive to not back down from a challenge I got over just as many explorers did many times before.

My point is not that I was handed a "man card" and officially welcomed into manhood, but that it's time we put down the Xbox controllers, turn off our flat screen TVs, unplug our laptops, silence our Blackberrys and put aside our egos. Let's kick it old school and bring back the true meaning of being men. Let's explore the world, seek out answers, become the protector and provider for our family. It's time that we become men: physically, mentally, intellectually and most importantly spiritually.

For if you show me a man who is founded by faith, driven by adventure, living through love and seeking out the most out of life, you'll be shown a guy worthy of being called a man.

Climbing life's mountains

Recently I was told to begin a blog...I'm not a fan, nor do I believe I have something promising or profound to share with the world of strangers, friends and adventurers, but I figured life's an adventure, let's give it the ol' college try.

Last week I spoke at a youth retreat out at Camp Christopher and we were talking about discipleship and living a life worth living. It wasn't until I prepared for the talk that I came to the realization that life is a lot like climbing mountain after mountain and never ceasing to stop wanting to climb higher along the path set forth for you.

Here's a bit of my talk:

Back in the spring I was faced with a time where I was challenged: professionally, personally, spiritually and in every other facet of my life. I was on my journey and quickly came across many obstacles that prohibited me from reaching my mountaintop.

I had been a Youth Minister for two year and doing great things, but after a while, and for a thousand-and-one reasons, I was beginning to feel beat down personally, professionally and spiritually. At the same time I was talking about proposing to my girlfriend. Then one day everything just began to unravel. Work got worse, so I quit. My relationship went south, and quick, so we broke up. It took months to get over her and I still struggle. My cousin was in and out of jail and rehab for an addiction to drugs and stealing. My grandfather’s health was getting worse. I was still living at home. My friends were getting great, successful jobs. Some even were beginning to get married. Everything just sucked.

Yet through all of it, I stayed humbled and passionate to overcome all of it. I prayed whenever I got scared. I met with my spiritual director regularly. It took months but I weighed all my options and made sure I was making the healthiest choices for me and I decided to do exactly what Jesus does many times in the Bible...I left the craziness of life and headed for the mountains.

I moved out to Maine and for four months and lead back packing trips in the mountains and back country of Maine and New Hampshire. I climbed a dozen mountains and backpacked hundreds of miles of trails. It was my opportunity to escape everything that happened and refocus all my energy and strengthen my relationship with God. I had remained faithful, but I also had to work on surrendering myself to His will, his plan he had for me. That was hard for me to fathom. It’s easy to want to live out our own “plan” for our lives and it’s just as easy to blame God for all that is wrong in my life, but it takes so much just to surrender yourself and say: “Lord, I am yours. I am here for you and I know that in my darkest hour you will guide me back to the trail that I am on for this journey. I surrender to you..."

...As I lived out my adventure this summer it taught me many things, but gave me time to seek out answers. Strive for so much more and keep me from living a life of fear. When I wasn’t on the trails I was helping at the high ropes course, conquering my fear of heights. I kayaked during a hurricane just to experience the rush of attacking what God’s furry had to offer, wearing a speedo, aviators and a smile. I lived a summer where I pushed my limits knowing that if I truly surrender myself to the Lord I have nothing to fear...

...Along our journey we need faith in God to stay positive, when we’re hungry we need the Eucharist, when we feel lost we need prayer. Whether we are on or off the trail we can’t do it alone, we can’t survive on our own and that’s why we must be committed to being disciples. To always know that we are here for God as he is always here for us along the way.

I still struggle with living out His plan instead of mine and I still fall on my face, but to succeed in life you need to fall and learn how to pick yourself back up. No one ever said it would be easy, but with knowledge of the Lord’s love, my trust in His plan and my faith in Him nothing will get in my way...

Until next time...