Blog

New Year’s ResoWINtions (or, I’m More Resolute Than You Are)

New Year’s Resolutions have a bad wrap. To be fair, the word “lose” is implied in the name. I prefer resoWINtions (I’m a crafty wordsmither, no?). Pastors, blogs, magazines, everyday folks, they all clamber resolution warnings. No doubt, your ear-holes and eye-balls have been plagued with a mess of conflicting messages. Christians, I’ve found, like to shrug off New Years Resolutions. Maybe they see it as shallow. I don’t know. Some folks, maybe, don’t like to be reminded how susceptible to failure they are.

As for me, I’m a fan of new challenges. I like them all year-round. Once, I only used chopsticks for three months or so.

SIDE NOTE: Hands down, salad is best eaten with chopsticks. (more…)

27

I turned 27 today. Every so often I like to change my age—keep it fresh. I’m a creature of habit that way. What can you say about getting older? Nothing really. Sometimes life is swell, and you want time to stand still to be able to appreciate it. But then the moment passes and we’re on to life’s frustrations and complications and standing arounds.

I had to work on my birthday. That’s the worst. 6am to 1:30pm. It was okay though, better early than late. Right now, my wife is making me a vegetarian eggs benedict (veggie benny: my favorite) for dinner, and I’m comfortable in the new clothes I’ve purchased for myself. Later, we’re going to a local brewery and grabbing a drink and desert. And after that…. if I’m really lucky, I’ll— what? I was going to say watch Skyfall on Netflix.

I’m trying to find something witty to end this little soliloquy with. Life just keeps moving forward, don’t it? I’m 27. Good lord, wasn’t I just learning how to drive and smashing my red ’96 Chevy Blazer into a stranger’s car in my high-school parking lot?  (more…)

Guest Blog: When We Were On Fire

The following was written by my lovely wife, Megan Carr. Woot! We are officially a blogging family now. The girl gives me a run for my money. Check it out: synchroblog-photohome_uk

When We Were on Fire

Today’s blog is in support of Addie Zierman’s book When We Were on Fire. Though I haven’t yet had the privilege of reading it, I’ve been deeply encouraged by her blog for some time now. Addie has a knack for saying things my heart has always wanted to scream; yet my mouth (or fingers in this case) has somehow been unable to say. To put it simply: her words have helped me see my self and my past clearer. I encourage you to check out both her book and her blog.

Prior to this, I’ve blogged exactly three times in my life. Once on a dare, again as a class assignment and now. Grace for the rough edges is appreciated.

On Fire

I suppose the term On Fire for Jesus could be used to describe the entirety of my youth. Especially my Jr. High and early High School years. I grew up in an Evangelical Christian home, went to a private Christian school, and participated in nearly every Christian youth activity under the sun. In fact, both the school and the church I grew up in were in the same building. More often than not, I literally spent every day of the week at the church.

Back then, it felt as though being On Fire wasn’t an option. Everyone was burning, and I succumbed to the peer pressure.

My weeks were filled with the overwhelming frenzy of being On Fire:

Youth group, where I learned essential skills such as how to share my testimony and “save” someone in 5 easy steps.

Ministry where I devoted my Saturday’s to driving around in a giant blue and red bus making balloon animals and playing red-­‐rover with some of the disadvantaged youth of our area.

Bible quizzing where my “holiness” was quite literally put into direct competition with others.

Christian concerts and festivals where I joined other Jesus-­‐loving youth delirious with the high of perfectly programmed corporate worship.

Purity workshops where I learned Modest is Hottest and True Love Waits. While at the same time making lists of the essential qualities my future spouse was to have, and creating mod—podged collages built from pictures cut out of bridal magazines.

My youth was marked by many “mountain top experiences” with other Christian t­‐shirt clad youth. It certainly was intoxicating.

Flickering Out

In retrospect, I am both grateful for and disenchanted by my over-zealous Evangelical Christian youth. It provided a foundation and backbone for my faith. However, like other frenzies, constantly being On Fire simply wasn’t sustainable past a certain point.

There are a few definite experiences that caused the flame of my hyper-­Christian youth to flicker. Perhaps it was just a natural byproduct of the maturing process, but during my last years of high school I started taking an honest look at some of the professing Christian’s around me.

Some of what I saw was encouraging and faith affirming.
-­‐But-­‐
Some of it was hard to stomach and devastated the Christian bubble that had encased my life thus far.

Without going into specifics, I’ll just say that several encounters I had with other Christians at this time seemed nothing but trite, judgmental, and sometimes just plain illogical:

  • Tough questions oversimplified and met by clichés such as “Jesus is Truth” and “Just trust God”.
  • Pointed accusations from fellow Christians that my life was not bearing enough fruit.
  • Older peers making drastic and devastating mistakes even though they were once on fire too.

After a while, these experiences had worn my spirit; the cracks in my Christian foundation becoming more and more pronounced as time wore on.

Why is it that in times of struggle, we too often allow the seeds of doubt to overwhelm the seeds of hope? I don’t have an answer, but this is exactly what started to happen to me. Doubt and angst settled into my life at a frightening rate.

Burn Unit

Feeling both burned and burned-­out, the period of time directly after high school was difficult for me. I was in uncharted territory. Before, faith had come easily, Christianity felt natural. Now, I struggled with hurt, confusion, and doubt.

Not knowing what else to do, I distanced myself from the so-­called Christian lifestyle. I stopped participating in the ministries I played a role in; I fled from the Beth Moore Bible Studies often forced upon me by well-­meaning women of the Church.

I took a breather. Knowingly or not, I needed to create some space, some time to look back on my Evangelical Christianity-­saturated journey thus far. I needed to separate the good from the bad and to make amends with some of the experiences and people I’d been burned by.

Though difficult, I firmly believe taking time to leave and welcome the space was one of the healthiest things I could have done. If I had kept “pressing on”, I know the aftermath would have been far more devastating. I needed to question, to doubt, and to let the anger and hurt work itself out. I needed the burns to heal.

Salve for the Burns

Like burns often do, the ones in my life have left their mark. These scars come in the form of cynicism and distrust of many of the things most Christians eagerly embrace. But more than that, they also serve as a reminder of where I’ve been, and how far I’ve come. It would be too easy for me to have never moved on from the time of hurt and anger, to wallow in the injustices I’d experienced.

While I’d love to say I was able to move forward on my own strength, it would not be the truth. If it weren’t for a few dedicated people in my life guiding me through and out of the times of struggle, I would probably still be wallowing.

If I were to wrap the moral of my experiences up with a neat little bow, I would say this: fellowship is invaluable. And by fellowship, I mean the real (and often messy) kind where you’re free to question, doubt, and feel angry if necessary. Find someone to walk through your struggles with you. You are not alone in this. There are others who have been burned too. It many seem hard to do, but keep talking and questioning until someone recognizes what you’re saying and comes alongside you, if only just to listen. Simply being heard goes a long ways towards healing. Give someone the chance to listen.

Perhaps, eventually you’ll be able to do the same for another who’s been left with the smoldering aftermath of once being On Fire.

The ‘Freshly Pressed’ Fallout

Most WordPress writers hope to be Freshly Pressed someday. Back in June, when my post “Confessions of a Former Worship Leader” was chosen and featured, I danced a jig and nearly sprained my ankle. It was great, and now I bear the mark.

But don’t let those pesky WordPress editors fool you. It isn’t all daisies and sunshine. There’s fallout, baby. Aftermath. Radiation with no radioactive suit. I grew an extra eyeball on my elbow. True story.

Here’s what happened to me:

The Freshly Pressed Post-Press-Process 

Euphoria (I’m the best blogger ever!)

Addiction (It just feels so good…)

Depression (My stats are going down… )

Desperation (Just give me one more hit…)

Replication (I must recapture my former glory!)

While enduring this terrible Post-Press-Process, I trapped myself in a rabbit cage called Christian Today and labeled my name tag as the “Go-to church-criticism guy.”

(Just one more hit…)

See, there’s this inherent blogosphere rule that says the better you focus your blog towards capturing one audience, the faster your readership grows. After having a taste of sweet, sweet mass readership, I was hooked. Crystal Blue Persuasion had me, and I was damn well sure I’d corner the Christian blogger market any day with my product.

History is so Passé 

Before FP (because initials are cool), I was an average blogger, and I wrote whatever I wanted. Sure, I didn’t have a solid focus or steady readership but that was alright. I just wanted to write and get better at it. Sometimes, I wrote about being a Christian; other times, I wrote about Mexican food or getting my butt stuck in a car seat.

“Confessions…” was different. It was the most honest thing I’d ever written; my heart was entirely in it. I spent a year formulating drafts in my head, searching for the right words, finding ways to elucidate my complicated and awkward spiritual journey. It meant a lot to me to get it right. After a week or two of editing the actual draft, it finally worked. I clicked “Publish” (the button was heavier than normal that day).

What I’m getting at is that “Confessions” wasn’t normal nor was it ever meant to be a flagship. It was just a process that gave me healing, what I needed at the time. I hoped for it to resonate with one or two others.

But when “Confessions..” hit, everything changed. I was no longer just another average, over-churched burn-out. I was a Freshly Pressed over-churched burn-out! (Big difference okay).

I was given an audience who redefined my writing identity. I became one of those dumb cool-young-hip Christian bloggers.

First World-Blogger Problems

After the traffic died down and I was left with my wonderfully old (and new) subscribers, I noticed interesting stat patterns. The blogs I wrote about life, travel, and every-day-faith earned me decent traffic (better than before but not the consistency I was hoping for). The blogs I wrote about church-criticism nearly always doubled my traffic.

So as any red-blooded blogger would, I (fracked for crack) wrote more and more about the church even when it didn’t feel natural. Oddly enough, when the impulse was sincere, I usually talked myself out of it in favor of trying to “Grow.”

It’s like being stuck in some sort of.. Post-Pressed-Pressure…

IMG_3015

The awkward “Post-Pressed-Pressure-Pose”

My first thought: “Hey, maybe I should focus all my energies on church reform. People obviously want to hear what I have to say. And I do have more to say!”

My second thought: “Didn’t I leave the church?”

Then, after a root beer, my third thought: “Does this mean I have to join a church to stay current for my audience?”

Then, after a slice of pizza and an hour of Netflix, my fourth thought: “If I don’t write about the church then am I shooting my writing career in the foot?”

My fifth thought: Who do I write for, my audience or me?

Kevin’s Final Thought on Friday Show: Is this how one-hit wonders feel? “I want to play the new stuff.” But they like the old stuff. Give ‘em the old stuff. Old stuff or die. 

Old stuff or die.

Old stuff and die.

Epilogue/Backsliding

Christian-blogger is a stupid term. I think so, any way. C.S. Lewis wrote in an essay about how people shouldn’t look for labels to promote their faith, or book, or ideology, that what people cling to are the natural outputs. I’ve always felt that there’s nothing sincere about labels and agendas. It’s why American evangelism sucks. Instead of reaching out to serve and be sincere, we seek others only when philosophy conversion is possible or at least part of the conversation (as if people aren’t worth our time otherwise).

This is where I find myself today, with a reminder for you (but mostly for me): Be sincere, good people. Be sincere.

Freshly Pressed: My Favorite Comments

Last week, I found myself struggling with writer’s block. Yesterday, I was Freshly Pressed on WordPress. That kind of took care of it. If you’re not familiar with WordPress, basically, Freshly Pressed is their sort of… front page.

Alternate blog title: Freshly Pressed: How Keva Got His Groove Back

Just last week, I was telling my wife about some of my goals. Freshly Pressed was numero uno. So that’s cool. Now, I can move on to goal numero dos: hand model. Well no…

What a huge honor. The Freshly Pressed came at just the right time, too. My writer’s block has since been smashed, chopped, and blended… and digested.

Confessions of a Former Worship Leader was featured. I wrote the post straight from the heart, so it was nice to get such a wide array of feedback and responses. “Confessions…” seems to have struck a chord, no pun intended.

The internet is a strange place, and it gets a lot of flack these days (Facebook rants, mean-spirited debates and criticisms, message boards), but I’m continually impressed by the genuineness and civility of WordPress bloggers. It’s quite a special place.

Comments are still coming in (slightly overwhelming)! In truth, everyone’s comment has touched my heart. Some responses have been encouraging, some have disagreed; all have contributed towards my healing in some way. The best part is the overall, much-needed conversation of corporate worship has begun. It’s been an honor to have lead this discussion.

Here’s a few comments (from yesterday) that have, so far, stood out to me. A lot of these are just excerpts. I might add one or two more as I continue to read.

Comments, Comments, Comments,

Melissaraptor

During the few Christian services I’ve attended in my life, I’ve felt so confused and taken aback by the focus on modern music. The services were not what I imagined at all and frankly I felt more uncomfortable in those which relied heavily on the performance. Thank you for sharing the thoughts of someone behind the scenes, so to speak. It’s comforting to know that someone so involved with religion shares or at least reflects some similar input on a few of the topics I’ve been so confused by. Thank you so much.

Constance V. Walden

When people get up on a stage or stand up before the congregation and sing, with or without music, it it becomes a concert or entertainment. It becomes about them, really. Yes, they may be singing about the Lord, but, it’s really about them. When the church comes together to worship, they should sing together as one to the Lord on the same level. No one up front, no one on stage, and not drowned out by musical instruments. It’s OUR voices together in praise to the Lord. Thanks for sharing.

measureofagift

My heart broke last week when a dear friend told me she chose a church for the “worship experience” she told me it was “very spiritual” and that what she loved was that she could go there, feel blessed, talk to no one, and then return home, untethered to anyone in the congregation, or anything she needed to carry around with her all week. She could “just leave it there til next week.” We’ve turned worship into a gratifying experience, so much so that in “trying to serve God” in worship, we end up hurting those who come to our churches.

sandydog44

Hello, I quit the church for many reasons ….and the hypnotizing of the congregation by emotional music and all that goes into producing a good concert to move your feelings….it was called being moved by the Holy Spirit, but exactly the same feelings are produced at a “secular” concert. People are fooling themselves.

Carpenter’s Quill

Worship is: Dance, art, a prayer, thanking God by using our talents, helping people around us, or even singing in the shower. I agree that ‘worship’ isn’t just one singular act of service/praise. I also like your response about being ‘hurt by the church’. Too many people forget that the church is full of humans. We are individuals incapable of perfection. I’m glad it didn’t squash your faith, and that you’re uncovering hidden feelings. I think the mega church culture (as a whole) needs to get back to authentic ‘worship’

Kris

I appreciate your honesty with where you are at and think it was wise for you to pull back as you did. It seems to me, our spiritual life and our interactions with others and service ebbs and flows, inevitably produces flaws, retracts in disgust and renews itself in purity through the Spirit. It is not just this way in worship of course, but in any aspect we participate in communally. Anytime our faith goes public in service we drag along our personal spiritual fights and encounter those of others and sometimes we just need to pull back and regroup.

kevindeisher

I sang and led worship at my church for several years and like you suffered burn out. I left the church in search of something better and more genuine for me to believe in. I can so relate to your post and agree with it all. I am attending a micro church now where the worship music is by most standards poor, but it is genuine and heartfelt and I enjoy it more than the concerts of the past.

Thanks again, WordPress! What an honor to have been considered and chosen.

Short Story: Jake’s Jacket

The water’s just too damn cold.

Jake stood on the shore of California’s blue expanse, examining its horizon, noting the abnormalities under it. The ocean seemed empty to Jake. Sure, there was life teeming underneath, but nothing above he could see. The waves tumbled; the sea foam, in clockwork, came and went—hugging Jakes’s ankles, offering shallow solace.

Born on a farm in Pennsylvania, standing now, ankle deep, at the edge of existence. How did I—

“Why don’t you come back in?” Michael’s voice stole Jake away from his thoughts. He reached out his hand, “Let’s talk.” Michael’s body, not yet in the water but just out of grasp of the ocean’s reaching, rippling fingers, awaited response.

A black dot broke the surface in the closest series of waves.

“There!” pointed Jake, his arm outstretched, “Do you see it?” He laughed. A black seal broke the surface twenty yards or so from where they stood. “He’s come to watch me die,” Jake turned around and met Michael’s stare, offering a deflated grin,  “and you too?”

“Come on out.”

“DON’T!” Jake yelled, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. “NO!” He began to scream. Michael shot his hands in the air.

“Nothing in my hands.” Michael signaled, “Nothing in my hands.”

– – –

Inching slowly, ever so slowly, Michael approached Jake. Cold seeped in through Michael’s shoes and bit his skin. Jake had since opened his eyes and was reexamining the water. Finally, the two stood side-by-side; Jakes’s explosive vest was visible to Michael for the first time.

“Every inch you move is another towards death, my friend.”

“There’s no gun…”

“… so its been since birth.”

Michael closed his eyes in defeat.

The seal again broke the surface and Jake smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

picstitch

A short story exercise, 300 words or less. My first in a while. Thoughts?