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Sun, 07 Feb 2010 07:25:07 -0600

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind
(By W shakespeare)

Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

My blog is here: Murano glass vases

Somehow i feel that wine and art are of the same texture of creativity.

An Unnoticed Life {a story of sorts}

Fri, 05 Feb 2010 02:36:05 -0600

A successful corporate executive, highly respected in his workplace and one who carried tremendous influence in the business world, was the picture of the ultimate power broker. Everyone knew his name. He had his own parking place, and whenever he entered a crowded elevator, people would respectfully move to the side in order to give him greater standing space.

His power in the corporate world was nearly palpable. When he entered a room, his reputation proceeded him. A fierce businessman, his colleagues admired him and feared him. His temper was the stuff of myths. Prone to moodiness, his staff worked hard to keep things moving smoothly. He was a man of power.

But, what no one in his high-powered corporate world knew was that this iconic-like figure was living a double life. They did not have a clue about his secret, his hidden passion. They would have been shocked had they known how this intimidating figure of a power broker spent his Sundays.

He'd been doing it for years, these secretive liasons, unbeknownst to even his closest confidants.

Every Sunday, for the past four years, this corporate executive, who lived alone, took off his expensive clothes and traded them for a pair of worn out blue jeans and comfortably faded t-shirt. He would slick back his $200 a pop styled hair and don a Yankees baseball cap. He'd grab a pair of sunglasses, reaching for the cheap pair he'd bought at a corner market rather than his high-end expensive pair.

Then he'd call a cab to come fetch him from his luxurious home in his exclusive neighborhood. He'd direct the taxi to take him to a working class neighborhood on the other side of town, far removed from his wealthy neighborhood. Then he'd walk a few blocks towards a strip mall where to a bus stop for city bus number five. Quietly he would sit on the bus stop bench, an anonymous everyday man just waiting for the bus. If any of his colleagues had passed by they would not have recognized the simple, regular guy as the high-powered corporate exec they were familiar with.

One Sunday, one of the cleaning staff sat down on the bench, He recognized her from the night cleaning crew from the many nights he had worked clear through to meet an impossible deadline. He did not know her name. She sat down, two kids in tow, and glanced over at him, giving him a polite smile and nod. He smiled back. She had no idea.

Every Sunday he lived this double life. He told no one about it and went to special lengths to conceal his secret.

That secret was that every Sunday, while his colleagues played golf or drank expensive whiskey to while away the afternoon at the golf club, he was secretly helping out at a small soup kitchen operated by a group of Benedictine nuns.

He'd show up, put on an apron, and get to work helping with prep in the kitchen for the six o'clock meal. Then, when it was serving time, he would go from table to table, ladling up generous helpings of hot, home cooked food for destitute guests who counted on that Sunday meal.

It was his life's biggest secret. He reveled in it. He reveled in his secret Sundays of living a life unnoticed along side some of the most invisible citizens of his city.

The big corporate executive, for a few hours each week, went unnoticed.

News From a Sad City

Thu, 04 Feb 2010 23:14:23 -0600

Today we are still in Shock. Last weekend a paramilitary goup broke in a block party of collage and high school students in a sector of our city. They came there affter entering other two houses and killing the people they finded... at the end of the day, they kill 14 people, and wounded other 14.

Yes, you may have heard about it in the media and in the department of State reports advicing you to avoid comming to my sad City, Ciudad Juarez Chihuahua. And most of what you´ve heard is true. In 3 years, the drug related violence have charched us a toll of over 2500 men and women murdered in our community.

When i go to El Paso Texas, each and every time I can see people travelling nothbound loaded with their personal belongings, leaving their hometown and their country in fear for the lives of their love ones. Manny times my Wife has asked me: "Are we going to endup leaving our town too?".

When this happens, I remember Psalm 46:1-3, because as christians this is what we see and experience everyday here:

^1-3 God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.
   We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom,
      courageous in seastorm and earthquake,
   Before the rush and roar of oceans,
      the tremors that shift mountains.    Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us.

So, is this the time of fearing and saving our own lives, or is it the time to be the much needed ligth in this area, the salt in these acrid times? The first believers will not hesitate, in facing such conditions, in fact, they adviced us to expect trials and troubles for sake of Jesus. This is the Time for the Gospel to claim its pertinence in our behalf. If we can be a blessing "to all Nations", we need to hold this city for the Kingdom of God.

A Million and a half souls are in stake... We need to remember always: Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us. Aleluya! Amen! Emanuel, God with Us.

I'M BACK! The Art and Sound of Bridge Worship

Thu, 04 Feb 2010 18:40:10 -0600

The little rowdy church my family calls home is somewhat notorious for our loud, gut-wrenching honest songs. I have seen many, many people pass through on a Sunday who have come to see us as if we are a circus sideshow. It doesn't bother me, nor anyone else at The Bridge. We welcome anyone who comes to join us, whether for one curious Sunday or whatever.

Having said that, I am sometimes conscious of how we must look and sound to the traveling-thru tourist. We are in danger of appearing as a spectacle, as an indulgent group of angsty, chaotic souls who holler out our pain to the Almighty for the sake of drama and adrenalin. I don't blame anyone who makes that conclusion based on one cursory drive-by of a Bridge service on Sunday morning.

Enter videographer Craig Spinks. Craig and his wife Sarah came through Portland a few months ago. They are doing a tour of the US, filming people along the way about all things faith and spirit. He interviewed Todd and Angie Fadel, the creative force behind the roar of Bridge worship. I think Craig captured the spirit of The Bridge music sound with his interview and filmed glimpses of how we are whether anyone is looking or not.

I’ve visited The Bridge a handful of times the past 5 or 6 years and each time I’ve been surprised by how my soul responds to the music. The lyrics resonate with me. The unpolished arrangements invite me in, imperfections and all. The volume is cranked to 11 and I feel at home. Todd and Angie’s style of worship is certainly not for everyone, but that’s just the thing…their style of worship works for the community they pastor, not the other way around - Craig Spinks of Recycle Your Faith

{Click the link on to see Craig's video snapshot with Todd and Angie and of a Bridge Sunday service. (Keep an eye out for the bass player. That's my Jerry!)}

I loved his interview with the Fadel's, albeit I think it was way too short! I know Craig likes to keep his videos to soundbites for the Soundbite Generation. If the bit he provides teases your appetite for me, there are other interviews, print and video, floating around the web. There is for sure a kind of pioneering vibe on Angie and Todd that has very much shaped The Bridge. This can be credited to the founding pastors of The Bridge, Ken and Deborah Loyd, both of whom helped create and lead The Bridge for about a decade before moving on. Our rambunctious fellowship is currently pastored by Angie, Geoff Neill and Donna Van Horn wil be ordained in February.

I could write a book on the evolution of worship in my life, the change of songs, music styles, philosophy of and practice in both public and private. The worship of God, I have come to believe, is more like art than ritual. There is freedom to be creative in our adoration of our Creator. That is what I hope more people will discover as they come by to visit us on a Sunday morning. Maybe this is something to think about, what artful worship would look like in any given fellowship if the creative powers within the worshipers were unleashed. At The Bridge, I think we do that.

One last thought, much of my evangelical career has been mixed with a steady dose of spiritual "I just want..." This sentiment is futuristic rather than here and now. Futuristic thinking is good for all kinds of realms in life, but in the spiritual life it can become paralyzing. If I am focused on what I could be if only I were this or that or if only God would do this or that, then I have sabotaged discovering God's presence in the here and right now of whatever brokenness possesses me. I must be able to freely associate with my Creator no matter the state of my mind of heart. If he is truly unconditional with his love and if his mercy is really new every single day for me, than there must be a freedom to find him and adore him in the abyss as well as the joyful mountain peaks and all along the path between the two.

That the things we are expressing are not feigned pain, but actual pain. - Todd

If there is any whiff of bullshit somebody will call us on it. - Angie

The things we sing are not what we aspire to, but what we're actually going through. - Todd

Introduction to BigNick

Tue, 02 Feb 2010 21:02:38 -0600

My name is Nick Briggs i am a pastor in the church of the nazarene, i have accepted an assignment from God to be the pastor of a new start church in Vandalia, IL. God has done some amazing things recently in the life of my family, for starters He gave my wife and I a son in november to add to our already beautiful family. But most significantly, He gave me a passion for His gospel and seeing it spread once again, after being a wayward son. I asked God about where he wants me to be serving around Christmas and what He wants me to be doing and God responded, I lost my secular job on january 4. Since then I have been looking for oppurtunities to serve Him and what it looks like. Jesus has lead me in believing He wants to do a new work with my life now more than ever, so I'm speaking in Vandalia on this coming up sunday after my weekend at the Verge Conference in Austin, TX so if anyone out there is also attending this weekend holla at me! TTYL!

End of Your Rope by Trevor Goforth

Tue, 02 Feb 2010 14:48:09 -0600

I'm on the edge of a paradigm in my mind,
Truth and love are hard to find.
Climbing to the mountains edge,
Will he be able to stay off the ledge?
My heart is in little pieces on the floor,
I crawl to you hands and knees begging for more.

Words are like the bombs we drop to the ground,
The damage done, we are not buried underground.
Never to see the light of day,
Chained by the words we say.

Yet on and on we go,
Sometimes fast; sometimes slow,
Never realizing the pain we cause,
Bypassing the inner beauty,
Only focusing on our so called flaws.

I am no Jesus but I can be your friend,
I am ready to lay my life down in the end.
Search me and know my heart,
Look past the mask and see the inner most part.

Secrets will always be brought to light,
What is wrong will one day be right.
This is what I believe,
I have eyes to see just what the truth is.
Some days we just have to get through the shit.

Shit it is only good for the farmer’s field,
What kind of fruit will you yield?
Will it be a field of distress and war?
Will it be a flowing river of love?
See the Bird over the sea with the leaf in her mouth,
We there was despair there is now hope,
Love will come when you are at the end of your rope.

Private Nameserver

Mon, 01 Feb 2010 04:02:12 -0600

In computing a private nameserver also spelled nameserver consists of a program or computer server that implements a name-service protocol. It maps a human-recognizable identifier to a system-internal, often numeric, identification or addressing component.

Hostgator Dedicated Review Host

Sun, 31 Jan 2010 22:41:30 -0600

Since its establishment in 2002 as read through this hostgator dedicated review host, Host Gator has been a world-leading provider of web hosting service. With its office in Houston, Texas, it provides top-notch service to clients from over 200 countries internationally with a staff strength of over 300 employees. It offers shared, reseller, VPS and dedicated server packages for both beginners and professionals including 24/7/365 support, a 99.9% uptime guarantee and a 45-day money-back guarantee.

The Scream: Grace came too late By Trevor Goforth

Sat, 30 Jan 2010 00:59:04 -0600

I want to scream, not a sound when I open my mouth,

Muted by fear and doubt,

Down in this well,

Dealing with my own garbage,

Living in my own personal hell.

Never forgetting the pain I have caused,

Life was moving forward then it paused,

Living in the eye of the storm,

Love is what was keeping me warm.

Going in circles stuck in the eye,

I was blinded at the center of the Hurricane, fueled by the lie.

Cold and freezing to death,

No body to roll away the stone,

Even the foxes and birds have a place to call home.

A heartbeat is hard to find,

These are the chains that bind,

Call the doctors I feel that I’m about to flat line,

It is the end, the clock no longer tells time.

Every time you say that you want to leave,

The air leaves my lungs and its hard to breathe,

Do you really love my anymore,

Throw away the key; lock the door.

In the darkness I wander around,

Crawling on the cold ground,

Sealed is my destiny or fate,

Maybe for you and me, Grace came too late.

Humbled.

Thu, 28 Jan 2010 09:48:36 -0600

What would it take for me as a believer to walk in the truth of your Spirit’s leading every moment of every day as if I were a missionary to another country? I bet if I lived overseas in as missionaries everything would be an opportunity for the Gospel to be proclaimed or demonstrated. Everything would be worthy of prayer, and seeking you. Leaving the house would require a “sent off” prayer, and time of asking for the Spirit’s leading. Why don’t I do that here? It’s as if my life is too busy with the things of this world that I still have two separate lives. One of them is my passionate pursuit of you, and the other is the life/world that I’ve created for myself just to “get by” on this earth until I go to heaven. What it be like if I lived each moment as if it were an opportunity to usher in the kingdom on earth as it is in heaven?

Lord, I want that. I earnestly desire that. Do I desire it enough to wake up early in the mornings to pray and seek you earnestly? Hmmmm….Do I desire it enough to step out in faith hundreds of times each day to pray over someone, share the Gospel, or speak a word of truth/knowledge into someone else’s life? I can hardly step out to follow through with simple things you’ve given me to do like pray over my wife/baby/family…much less random strangers. Lord, do a work in me today, please, that pushes me (by the power of your Spirit) to begin a more disciplined, pro-active, and diligent pursuit of living a constant kingdom lifestyle. Continue to show me how that can grow and blossom more each day. Protect me from the busyness of this life, and from my own self-created “responsibilities”. May you begin to show me what YOU desire, and may that begin to be bigger/more important than my own desires. I trust that it doesn’t take a “special trip” overseas, or a weekend away with you, but a simple availability to the power of your Holy Spirit’s activity in my life. Challenge me and humble me more and more each day. Give me a humility that allows others to speak into my life and challenge the ruts I allow myself to slip into. At the same time give me a discernment that knows what is from you, and what is from the enemy. Remind me daily of the promises you’ve made in your word, and through revelation. Blow me away by the power of your Spirit in my life and the lives of those around me. Do this today Jesus. I make my self completely available to you right now, in this moment. May this moment last for the rest of my life. When the moment slips away countless times throughout the day place in me an awareness of you that hinders the absence of the moment from lasting a blink. This is my prayer this morning…

“One things I ask, one thing I desire, is to know you, and be known by you. Single minded, whole-hearted, one thing I ask…is to be single minded…whole-hearted.”

May this pursuit take place within the reality that you have already accomplished this in my life. What YOU have already done for me means that I already have victory in these areas of life. May this pursuit be partnered only with the weightlessness of the cross that you bore. May it carry with it the truth that "your burden is easy and your yoke is light".The moment I chose you began this journey that begins and ends in victory.