The space is modern, nothing special. Grey carpeting, white walls. If it wasn’t for the grey padded chairs that are lined up in a liner fashion and the oversized black stage, you would swear cubicles would be suitable for this environment.

But in the midst of the corporate-like environment -- God is here. After spending only a few minutes in the worship space at the International House of Prayer in Kansas City, Missouri, the words “angels playground” came to mind. I could almost see the the spirit of God dancing -- to the music that He directs through the 20-something worship leaders.

It just amazes me so much, that I can drive 8-hours and pull into this parking lot, buy a mocha and enter this space and be amongst fellow believers who share the same passion as I do.

Sure I don’t know their names, in fact I don’t know anyone here. But I don’t think that matters to much. We are all united under one spirit, we are all worshiping the same God that called each of us by name, that paid for the sins that we are now free from.

And in this moment, this day, he draws us all together, to worship in perfect unity. We are now closer than any blood relatives could ever be. Our spirits are connected as we are connected to The Spirit.

I feel like this is is the first of a few oasis's of my trip. That God has led me here, to let me drink from the cup, rest in the presence and consume the word.
My narrative, my story that God has so uniquely shaped for my life is becoming more and more interesting all the time. I feel as though I am in the midst of pivoting the course of my life.

I feel like the past year God has let me taste the life that I desired in the beginning -- only to revel the life that He has for me.

I have no idea what this next week, month, year will look like -- however I know that what ever happends -- the life I live will not be ordinary.

May my God’s will become evident in my life. May the love of Christ be evident in my actions and words. May the Spirit that empowered great men like Peter, John, Paul empower me today. May my life be extraordinary, not for the elevation of my name -- but to Glorify the one I strive to follow.

Driving back to Dubuque yesterday morning something interesting happened. I think God answered a prayer as I was praying.

Not that I am some super spiritual person. I’m a bit crap at prayer – I forget, I am not focused, or to be honest I just don’t care sometimes. But on this brisk, snowy January morning I found myself praying as I was cruising down the road at a steady 40-mph to avoid going in the ditch.

My prayer was going as followed…

“God thank you for your faithfulness, thank you that you have provided for me so much as I transition to San Diego. I just ask that you would give me wisdom and guide me as I step into this new life, new job and new relationships.”

(I continued.)

“God you are so good to me even though I am not good at following you…give me the….”

As I said this I quieted and paused my spirit-filled words and turned down Sufjan Stevens playing through my car’s stereo.

“Oh shit…”

(I missed the day in church when they said that you shouldn’t swear in your prayers)

In this seemingly dieing spiritual moment between God, and myself I began to feel a violent shaking in my poor Jetta.

My prayer shifted in focus.

“God I just ask that you would fix whatever is wrong. You gave man the ability to make a car, I pray that you fix my Jetta.”

Then this question popped into my head – “Can God even fix my car, it’s German…I mean it’s a Volkswagen?”

Then I wrapped up this prayer, “God, help me to make it back to Dubuque so I an get it looked at.”

God did answer my prayer; I arrived in Dubuque safely to pull into the auto mechanics parking lot and Five hours, 2 new tires, 2 new tie-rods, an oil change, an alignment and $650 dollars later I drove my repaired Jetta home.

I don’t understand God sometimes; I mean he blesses me with this money, or at least with the ability to earn the money. He knows that I need that money to get out to California and to pay rent for my new apartment.

Then in one violent, vibrating moment, he takes it away.

God does things like this – all the time in fact. And not just to me, I mean read the book of Jonah. Jonah, after preaching to the heathen Ninevites, goes away from the pagan-city in witch he just condemned, rests under a large vine.

Jonah is pist about God not keeping up His end of the deal. Jonah preaches wrath, God wipes out the city with fiery boulders from heaven.

In the morning, after he wakes up, the vine is gone -- probably just a partially worm eaten stump, most likely not even enough to lean against.

This is what God says after Jonah justifiably gets frustrated:

Jonah 4:9
But God said to Jonah, "Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?"
“I do," Jonah said. "I am angry enough to die."

Even though I am not sure what “angry enough to die” looks like, I an on some level, relate with the Prophet. The Lord continues…

"You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. 11 But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?"

This is where I would say, “Yeah, but…”.

Lately I have been trying to ask the question God does things like this, is “God, what are you teaching me in this.”

I guess one of the most frustrating things about learning to Follow God, is that God teaches his disciples in narrative.

Either through a parable or a situation, or object – it is clear that God doesn’t use the ‘lecture’ method to prove his point.

I mean He knows us better than we know ourselves, He knows that we forget lectures, we forget ‘bullet points’. We need stories.

In those “Oh shit…” moments, I am learning to pay attention. It’s almost as if the “Oh shit…” moments are equally as spiritual as the times of worship or desperate prayer. And it is in these moments where God is teaching us the most – that God wants to prove his faithfulness and sovereignty so much to us he puts us in these seemingly hopeless situations, where all is lost, where the vine is gone, where the bank account is depleted.

Last night my dad called me as I was heading out to go into the office to make up for the time I missed yesterday. He told me that he was going to replace all the money that I spent on my car, and then some. He told me that he supports me moving to California and that he is proud of me.

I sat in my Jetta, turned the ignition, leaned back in my seat and thanked God for the amazing life I have, and how good he is.

Last night was one of those nights where I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts were coming to me faster than I could process them. They say we think 300 times faster than what we can communicate verbally. It seems that when my room goes black, and my head touches the soft, plush brown pillow a film strip complete with audio commentary begins to play in my mind.

I jump from one clip thought to another, each one not lasting longer than a few seconds. Conversations I’ve had, situations I’ve been in, or yet to be in, my mind seems to go where it wants to. And in the theatre of my own cerebral cortex, I sit alone, absorbing what I want, discarding the rest and changing anything as I see fit.

I had a conversation with a good friend last night which was a catalyst to such rapid mental activity. We have been talking about a recent decision of mine and he was trying to challenge me on it. I apologize ahead of time for being so vague; it’s just not the right time to out myself. Just know that it is life changing, and will affect the course of my life.

Our conversations shifted from my decision, to the topic of gifts and strengths and the role they play in the life of the believer. He shared with me that because of his marriage, and where his life had taken him, that he had to “prune” some of his gifts and passions and even let some of them die. This made me upset, not in an angry sort of way, but more empathetically and compassionately. He said that he spends his time serving his wife and taking care of his home and that his new calling.

I grieved for him. I grieved because I saw a friend burry some amazing gifts that could be utilized in such amazing ways.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for him serving his wife and sacrificing for his family, but a family was never meant to justify loosing passions and gifts. These gifts were perfect gifts given to him by the Holy Spirit and it was up to him to let them grow and flourish in his life, so that others may be impacted and ultimately God would be glorified.

I think it’s so typical of our culture as well as the church to communicate these types of ideas. I mean we are born with this instinct to create, to imagine, to play and over time this creative spirit just begins to slowly die. Education, family, churches, society, friends all encourage us to grow up, to become mature and set aside childish ways. When this happens the creative spirit that I believe God has given each of us, slowly dies and we live that is ordinary, plain, boring; like the narrative that God wants to create in our lives is lost by the pursuit of money, status and stuff.

I mean the same Spirit that created everything we see around us, the universe, colors, light, and even life itself is the same spirit that lives inside of us. And if we are in Christ we should live lives that ooze with creativity. Why do sacrifice our dreams for a safe pay check, our passions for a Toyota and our life’s purpose to fit in?

Last weekend I went bowling with a theatre friend and a few of her friends. After we left the bowling alley we went back to her apartment, sat around in old furniture, ate delicious mandarin oranges, drank dark beer and talked about life. Twenty minutes after I got there, someone pulled out a bag of marijuana and begin to pass around a black and silver pipe that released the smoke in the air which created a thin layer of haze in the room.

At the beginning of the night I remember praying and asking God for an opportunity to share life with these people who didn’t know God. What ever he wanted me to do, what ever he wanted me to say, I wanted to make myself open and available.

Funny how God works sometimes, I spend my entire life hearing that I should stay away from this stuff and these type of people, but God leads me to this place where I smile, pass the pipe to the person to my left and trust that God knows what He’s doing.

We got into this conversation about the link between the biological and the spiritual. I listened through most of it, until everyone began to talk about death and the meaning of it all. One person made as statement about how all we are is energy, and energy never really dies, that when our physical body dies we just become energy that is absorbed into the universe. Everyone pretty much concurred.

Remember by this time everyone in the room was flying, so I felt free to ask or say anything I want. So I disagreed, I raised the question that if that’s true, then what is the meaning of it all. What is the purpose of life?

If it is true that all we are is energy, then our lives don’t matter and simply all we are is just electricity. I challenged them with this question.

“Do you have a purpose, a mission an instilled life pursuit?”

Silence for a full minute.

“Whoa, that’s deep.” Someone exclaimed as they reached for another orange.

“I think so,” someone said “I mean, I feel like I have a purpose.”

“What is that purpose?” I asked.

“To raise my son, and to sing.” They said.

“To sing?” I clarified. “Yeah, ever since I was really little I wanted to sing, and I am good at it.” “But all you are, is simple energy, energy doesn’t have purpose on its own, it needs to be harnessed by some outside force to do anything functional,” I responded.

“Whoa, that’s deep,” the same person mumbled as they wipe orange juice from there mouth.

I felt led to end the conversation there. Here these people were, had no relationship with Jesus, lived a life that most of us would call risky, promiscuous and “unchristian” and they feel like they have purpose. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the Holy Spirit, what ever it was, it helped me to realize that we all have this desire to do something great. No matter where we are at in life.

I think the greatest tragedy that can happen to a person is when they loose this desire to do something great. When they no longer believe that their life has a purpose; that they are simply existing to survive and to carry on the family name.

I think suicide is the last act of passion a person can pursue, that in every other area of life, their passions, their gifts were destroyed either by decisions they have made, or people in their life, or by the culture that surrounds them.

Suicide happens when people give up on their God given dreams, desires and potentional, They desperately and passionately want to take control of something, even if it is their own death. I think people give up on their passions and gifts long before the trigger is pulled or they make the leap. I think it happens when we decided to choose the ordinary over the extraordinary, the mundane over the exciting and the safe over the dangerous.

I think our society is so afraid of failure that we choose the safe way out in every circumstance. We choose a job that pays well, but leaves us empty and thirsty just so we can pay for things that we think will quench a thirst, but like a can of coke on a hot day, it just leaves us thirsty again.

We choose the suburbs because of the quality schools and safe neighborhoods all while there is a whole diverse, beautiful culture that is happening in the city.

We choose Christian friends that think like us, act like us, look like us because we don’t want to risk becoming tempted to sin. We ignore beautiful people, with amazing stories and fantastic personalities because we only like people who are clones of ourselves. Jesus never intended for us to enter a church culture that remolds our lives, tastes and passions to line up with church expectations. We are narcissistic, self centered and religious and we love other narcissistic, self centered and religious people. They validate our own insecurities, fear and shallowness.

We choose a life, a narrative, a journey which is boring because it is safe. All while we ignore all the hurting, hungry, thirsty and naked people in the world. We fear becoming recognized as one of them, we fear being seen as week, as a social outcast. We think the dirt and the failure will rub off on us. So we keep our distance, toss money to organizations that help them which puffs up our ego and we think we’ve done something good for humanity.

I am terrified that I will not make a difference. I am terrified that I am living a life that is focused on myself. I am terrified that I am living a life that loves stuff and myself and not the lives around me.

What would it look like if those who were in Christ began to live a life that isn’t defined by what we believe, but by the extraordinary lives we live? What if we spent our time, resources, strengths into pouring into others and not trying to pursue wealth, stuff and status?

Are we prepared to ask such questions? Are we prepared for the answers that God will reveal to us?

Brick by brick, stone by stone, beliefs which were so secure are now loosened by tremors of doubt and uncertainty. The mortar that is my faith held not in place my belief in God, but belief in personal doctrine. The majority of the foundation of what I believe has not been rooted in the cross, but has been rooted in ideas of men.

Smart men, but men none the less. Authors, pastors, speakers, friends and artists; they have all shaped the box that I squeeze God into on a daily basis. Every once in a while God wants to escape, to leave the box and I am left confused, dumb-founded and full of doubt.

Doubt not only in those who have spoken into my life, but doubt in every aspect of what I think, feel and know about God. This past week has been tremor after tremor uprising from my soul; leaving me to pick up the pieces of my once intact theology.

So it seems when you are a new believer you spend the majority of your time reading, listening to, mentored by, and researching to build a structure that forms what we believe. We are told this is what any responsible, mature Christian does; because inevitably the storms of life will come, and the more solid our theology is, the more we can stand firm against the currents of false doctrine, trials, temptations and every other bad thing that happens to us. But, as for me anyway – a free thinking, educated, intellectual who was raised with the ability to think critically about ideas, theories and "facts", to not just take them a face value – for me when I inevitably begin to question those stones and bricks that make up the structure that is my faith, the entire mass begins to waver and teeter like a flexing skyscraper in a fierce windstorm.

A reoccurring thought that I have about the Christian life is that the more we grow in Christ, the more questions begin to surface. Like a butterfly that has just morphed and transformed from a season of protection from the cocoon, parts of my theology are freed from the concrete barriers of evangelical doctrine, opened up and allowed to breath. Questions fluttering around in my soul like a monarch in a open field, I feel as though God has more room to work in my life, the box that I put him in, stretches, expands and grows.

I think one of the greatest tools of Satan, is that he deceives those who believe in Jesus, into thinking that the more extensive, solid and secure their theology is, the safer the are. It's strange isn't it, the stronger we believe that our theology is the correct theology, the more we keep people out. We get so focused on our right beliefs that we become Pharisees, jerks, religious, legalistic, fearful and ineffective in living out the gospel. Show me a church that thinks that they have a monopoly on truth, and I'll show you a church that is impotent, shallow and ineffective.

I think the best thing for me, for anyone, is not being afraid to ask the following queston.

Why?

Why do I believe that women can't preach?

Why do I believe that abortion is wrong?

Why do I belive that Jesus is the only way?

Why must I believe the earth was created in seven literal days?

Why do I belive that homosexuals are living in sin?

Why do I believe the life in Christ, is the best life a person can have?

Terrifying isn't it, when we begin to ask questions such as this. Can a person love God and still be a homosexual? Can a person love God and still believe in evolution?

Even as I listed those, there are some who would assume a lot by me even listing those particular questions. We are terrified by questions that we do not have the answers to. So we get defensive and angry at the questioner; accusing and slandering -- anything to avoid thinking for ourselves and coming up with an answer that wasn't just spoon fed to us by some Christian author or preacher, but one that we have arrived at on our own.

I guess the kicker in all this, is the real possibility that there are those questions that we will never have an answer to. That we will have face the question, retreat into a humble posture and admit that we don't know.

Perhaps the best thing that can happen to our lives as believers and to let the butterfly go, allow it to flutter in our souls and enjoy the freedom of not knowing, not having all the answers.

"Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all." Jesus -- Mark 10:15

Perhaps those who have all the answers should take a lesson from those that don't. That until those questions that lay dormant in their souls are freed, perhaps the Kingdom of God, what ever that means, will never come to them.

I have realized several things in the past couple of weeks. I thought I would share them with you. Just to warn you, this is me shooting my skeletons. (From Rob Bell's book, Velvet Elvis) I have realized that my life will not reflect Jesus until I have the courage to show my struggles, my sins and allow God's grace to be displayed through my brokenness.

I am broken, I am not whole. To the extent I am whole is to the extent God holds the broken pieces together by His grace and mercy. I dont deserve this grace, I spit on this grace everyday. I turn my back on God constantly, and I live in denial that I am at the core, a messed up, broken person in desperate need of the healing power of Christ in my life.

I have realized that I am a deeply selfish person. I will do anything for anyone as long as I have something to gain from it; recognition, status, respect. I serve in the church not out of love, but as to gain popularity for the limited talent that God has given me. I have been a "Christian" since I was 15 and I have used the church and Christians for my own personal gain. I used the church to improve my own self esteem and gain an unhealthy and sinful pride that lead me to think I was better than people, better than my brothers and sisters in Christ because I knew stuff, I had talent, I fit in, I was cool.

I have also learned that I don't like myself. I have learned to cover this up in so many ways. I am insecure, scared and lonely. I have a problem receiving love from God and others because I don't think I deserve it. I read books, learned all I can so that I could be accepted by strategic people in the church. I held my self worth in the approoval and acceptance of others.

I am dishonest. I have lied to gain approval and acceptance. I am terrified of showing my hurts; my struggles do to the lack of respect that I would receive. I am scared to death of being found out and seen for who I truly am.

A constant message that I have been hearing over and over from various ministries is how to love God. I never thought I had an issue in this area. I loved God by way of doing ministry. I loved God by going to church. I loved God by smiling and conversing with people I don't want to converse with. I loved God by putting on my fake plastic smile every week and shaking the germ infested hand of the greeter at the door.

I have issues with loving God. I have issues with loving my self. I have issues with loving others. I have issues with love as a whole.

Tonight (at Crossroads Church) the message was once again, one of those messages that hit a little to close to home. Lately every message I hear I feel like God is saying, "Hey Patrick, pay attention, this is for you." Loving your self was the message tonight; I almost walked out. But at the same time I was intrigued by the topic. I honestly don't know how to love myself. I never really have loved myself. Loving myself, I found out is the foundation for loving people, which is needed to love God.

A couple weeks ago I heard a message about how to love God, I've been thinking and processing about that, but tonight God showed me that I first need to love myself. That maybe I need to take care of my own soul before I look for avenues and ways to love God.

Confessions -- Moving from sinner to sainthood.

"Beeeep, Beeeep, Beeeep, Beeeep"

That's all I hear before my arm instinctively swings around and smacks the long snooze button on my abrasive and annoying alarm clock.

I don't want to get up, I'll just stay here in the warmth and security of my baby blue down comforter and my white over stuffed pillows in my chilled, two bedroom apartment.

By the second or third round of loud, annoying noises blaring from the little white box that sits on my night stand next to my Zen water fountain and a copy of 'The Message' and an warn in copy of Blue Like Jazz; my body slowly awakens to a new day, a fresh start, once again a chance to change my world, make it a better place.

Maybe that is a little to idealistic; that's now what I think. Honestly I think how I dread to get out of my warm safe-haven to make my way to my small bathroom.

My life I feel, has taken a 90-degree turn the past couple of weeks. Priorities have shifted, my confidence has risen and I feel like I am making my first steps into adulthood.

Things are going pretty well for me right now; I received a great job doing what I love. I honestly look forward to going to work in the morning. I go in early, and work late. Last Monday was my first day at the Dubuque Telegraph Herald. I was hired to be a creative artist. A perfect job for me really. I am excited, energized by ever project to which I am assigned.

But in the back in my mind I can't help but think is this job my new life? Is this what I will be doing in 20, 30 years down the road? Don't get me wrong, that wouldn't be a bad thing. I love doing design, and to pay me for something I am going to do anyway is always a good thing.

I am scared though, I am scared of loosing my faith. There I said it. I have been struggling with this thought this whole week.

I don't know what to think about this because it's a weird concept to me. Since I was 15 there has always been the Christianity, the church involved in my life. The church for me has been a huge blessing in my life. God has given me opportunities to do amazing things, go to places I never thought I would go, meet the most interesting people. But honestly at this point I know that something dramatic has to change in my faith, or I feel like I'm inadvertently, slowly being pulled down a road in which I never thought I would be.

To get me wrong, I'm not going turning gay or developing an chemical addiction, but I am just loosing my energy to pursue things that have to do with Christianity.

I still read my bible, still pray…But I honestly feel like in terms of living a passionate Christian life, I want it all, or I would rather observe from a distance.

I had a conversation with my pastor recently that really got me thinking about how I've lived my life since I've became a Christian. I realized that I really haven't been honest with my self, or others in the faith a lot of the time about how I'm doing or what is happening with my relationship with God.

The more I got involved in the church, the less honest I felt I could be. So I lied, a lot, about what was going on my life. I was so passionately driven to rising up in the ministry and being this faith hero to people that I started to live in this denial about how I was doing and who I was.

I learned to say the right things to the right people to get noticed. I found my identity not in Christ, but how cool and recognized I was within the church.

Growing up I have always struggled with identity issues, self confidence wasn't something I had a lot of. When I became a "Christian", or started to attend my youth group, I learned that I could perhaps reach some level of being accepted if I just said the right things, acted a certain way around the right people.

So I started listening to Christian music and reading Christian books and going to all the church events. I learned how to lead a small group, learned how to pray right, learned how to talk the talk. All this was so that I could be accepted by a group of people who looked past how I dressed how "uncool" my hair cut was.

I learned to use the church for my own relational gain and self assurance. This has gone on since I stepped into the church for the first time when I was 15.

I recently read the book 'Velvet Elvis' by Rob Bell, and it really convicted me about a lot of these areas. One point in the book, it talked about how we need to take all our skeletons and take them out in the back yard and shoot them. Expose them and leave them for dead and move on with our life.

I am starting to figure out that I need to shoot my skeletons.

For so long I have been so afraid that keeping my skeletons in the closet was helping me elevate my status in the church and the ministry. The longer my life went on, the more I convinced that said skeletons didn't even exist. So I went on with my life and tried not to think about my past, my failures, my sins, my addictions all the hidden things in my life that would hinder my success.

This might sound silly to you, but a couple weeks ago I had a paradigm shift, it I truly think was a milestone in my life. I realized something.

I hate sports.

I could care less about baseball or the super bowl. I am not a naturally competitive person in that regard.

Growing up, sports was preached to me from everywhere, my parents, the media, my peers, everyone telling me that I should play football and root for a certain team.

I don't care, I never have.

So I lied.

When I was in 5^th grade I told people that I played pee-wee hockey and played for a football team in town.

I learned that if say the right things to the right people that, poof, instantly I'm a star. With out even running a yard or throwing a pass, it didn't matter because people naturally believe people. People, even kids want to see others succeed, I manipulated that.

Getting this job for me was a wake up call for me. I got this job on my own merit, my own talent, my own skill. There wasn't any lying evolved. My employer saw my portfolio and my experience and decided to hire me based upon these three things.

It felt so good, a feeling of accomplishment that was almost foreign to me.

I honestly feel like if I return to the church, it has to be a fresh start. I am no longer "Patrick Fore, experienced and seasoned in all things Christian", but "Patrick Fore, sinner, saved by grace, redeemed by the blood of Christ that was shed on the Cross, made new by the mercy and goodness of God."

I mentioned in my last post that I was beginning a book.

It's true, I am, I thought I would post the progress as it is made at some point.

I decided to call it 'Confessions', from sinner, to sainthood.

I guess it is my way of shooting my skeletons once and for all. I am terrified for people to read it. But it I think will hit home with a lot people and well as is a catalyst for huge change in my life.

This I know is to long already so I will end it there. I welcome for feedback, but please don't preach feel the need to give advise, I need to figure this thing out on my own.