Where the streets have no names... literally.

Yes, I am posting on my own blogspot. For those of you who may read this, you are witnessing history.

I just had a great trip. Some may call it a missions trip. Some may say it is an answer to a call of service. Whatever name you want to throw onto the trip, great things were done for and by great people.

Yes, as some of you may know, I just took a week long trip to Armenia. A trip anywhere, in my mind, always consists of many things learned, spiritual or not. To make things clear, I had no expectations for this trip. I did not "hope" for God to do anything spectacular. Frankly, I think that would be like asking an accountant to account for money or a weight-lifter to lift weights. God is spectacular, why ask Him to be what He already is?

What was experienced? What was learned? Who did I encounter? How did these encounters shape and mold who I am and will be later in life? There are too many questions. I know that I as head into church tomorrow and happen upon close friends of mine, I will be asked these questions. I won't be angered, nor will I be bothered in having to answer these questions. I will, on the other hand, be held back as to what I can say and how to make those words into experience.

I find that experience is something that we so often have, but so scarcely are conscience about it. Day by day, we feel pain and relief, sorrow and joy or simply hot and cold. Though, it is precisely because we experience day by day that we become numb to what experience is, thus suppressing the once powerful acts of emotion we once felt as children. At one point, we saw flowers and smiled, but also shuttered in fear when hearing thunder. I feel that on this trip, I got a taste of that again; feeling. I was able to feel not only the pollen in my nose, but more importantly the love and friendly invitation of Armenian friends. I could sense the touch of life that they had in their own lives, which was reflected onto our mission's team. Too often, we look over these things because we (especially in our busy orange county schedules!) are too busy preoccupying ourselves with routine. Even in ministerial positions, ministry gets in the way of ministry. "I'll spend some time alone just as soon as I finish this email." "Let me pray just as soon as I finish budgeting." There seems to always be something else.

When will we be able to calm down?

I think the answer lies in this; unity. Yes, our unity with Christ. I once had the privilege of sitting down with my favorite author and speaker, Brennan Manning. As we sat in Coco's, our little group of 8 men discussed our favorite beers, the best way to eat hamburgers and of course, the life of Brennan Manning. At a moment of awkward silence, I was able to look at Brennan and ask what his favorite word was at that moment in time. After placing his hand gently under his chin, he looked at me through his hazy eyes and said simply, but poetically, "unity." I was taken. How could one word, one short word, be so powerful? He began to express the joy of the word due to the unity Christ has with us and us with Him. Our feet become Christ's feet. Our hands become Christ's hands. Yes, our very heart and state of mind become that to the likeness of Christ.

Though, isn't this how ministry ought to be? As I spent my time, however short it may have been, in the Armenian culture, witnessing others experience the goodness of Jesus Christ through service to one another, it became apparent that ministry is not just the caring of the sick and diseased. It is not just the loving of the deformed and forgotten. It is the emptying of one's self in order for Christ to fill us and become unified with us and us with Him.

It is in these steps that we begin to learn such things as true prayer, humility, as well as begin to take into account the cost of discipleship. I've heard it said that we are closest to how Christ acted when we pray. In my previous blog, I discussed that prayer is best experienced when nothing seems to be right in our lives. Time after time, we see Christ get away from his disciples and his busy life in order to pray. From what I've gathered, it's because He feels that nothing is going according to plan. Jesus steps away from the crowds after witnessing a hopeless generation. Though 100 percent God, we must not forget that He, too, was 100 percent man; meaning He was afflicted with all the same emotional and physical pains that we experience.