To my Mom on her Birthday

Dear Mom,

It’s another year and you’re not here with me. It never gets any easier to write you this letter. As the years go on parts of you fades in my mind. I can barely hear your voice anymore, your eyes aren’t as clear as they once were and sometimes I don’t know what you would say to me in those situations where I really need you. I used to be able to say everything to you knowing that you would always listen to me no matter what it was. You always told me to follow my heart. Sometimes without you here it feels like that is missing. I’ve lost the compass of where self is. But even though I’ve lost some of these things I also hold onto many others

Your warmth has never left me. Sometimes I can still feel your hugs. You showed me that if my heart is in the right place the rest of my body will follow. The way you would gently wake me up with a voice that called me out of sleep in the best way possible.  When I was hurting and the tears would come, you would cry with me. You taught me that it was OK for a man to cry. You also encouraged me to laugh and seek the joy in life even in the midst of pain. Even when others doubted me you always had hope. You taught me it’s never to late to hope.

Mom I need to be honest that I have seen some dark days since you’ve been gone. I made you a promise that I would be OK and that you would be able to look down on me and be proud of me no matter where you were. I have not always kept that promise. I lost parts of myself to deal with my demons and I forgot what it looked like to hope. I stopped letting God speak into my life and let my demons tell me who I was. I stopped believing I was that boy you raised.

But as I write this letter to you now, I’ve made it through my darkest times and I have seen that elusive hope once again. I know what grace is again and I am chasing it with all that I have. I continue to fail and hurt but I also know how to rise from that into the light that once took you from me. I know that someday I will get to be there with you and I will cherish that day but for now I know I have so much left here to do. Someday I will have your grandchild and I will share everything that their Grandma taught me.  I will teach them hope for each day. That it’s ok to cry. That their hearts are their greatest assets. I will wake them gently in the morning and I will tuck them in at night soothing all their fears. I will tell that there is always grace. But mostly I will give them love the very love that you gave me. The very love that makes me who I am today.

I love you Mom and I will always miss you but you will never be fully gone from me.

Love Zach

25 and the time space continuum

An expert from Donald Miller’s Blog: A great life must be planned. I’m certain to get some push back on this one. There are, of course, many exceptions, and we are in no way in complete control of our lives, however, I’d argue that a person who plans out a year is going to have a more interesting year than a person that just lets whatever happens happen. I think it’s true in our work and in our relationships. A person who has a vision of a great relationship with their children and sits down for a week to plan out what those relationships might look like is going to have more success than a person who doesn’t. There is nothing sinful about being intentional. God may change our path, but I don’t think that’s an excuse to sit on a couch and not move forward.

This is one aspect of my story that I am now starting to realize I’ve never done. I am the complete opposite of a planner; in fact most of my life has been in rebellion of a planned life. I fight to live haphazardly at best. But as I sit on a couch in my father’s house in my home town it has become hard to argue this line of thinking it working well for me. I once made a promise to my mother on her death-bed that I would do something with my life, something she could look down and see and be proud knowing I’ve lived well with my blessings blessing others. I’ve squandered away all my money, as I sit here I have only a few dollars to my name and a lot of debt with little hope to climb out soon. I work at a restaurant that hasn’t given me enough of a living to even support myself living for free. I’d say it’s safe to say that somewhere my plan for no plan took a wrong turn. In order to fill my void of a lack of purpose I turned to drinking regularly, promiscuous relationships and escapism through media. I found a way to be complacent as a way to survive. Through this I lost a loving relationship and a good friend.

All this rambling confession is to say that an unplanned life is great if you don’t want much of a life at all.  I got to my 25th year without a lot to show. So for now it’s time to make some plans…….. perhaps I will share these plans later.

What I know right now is that Christ died in order to give life and life to the fullest not for later but for right now. And who am I to squander that?

worship of a broken heart

Tonight my heart has awoke, I’ve spent the evening at home worshiping by myself. I’ve just heard a song by John Mark McMillan and it won’t leave me. For the first time in a long I have a desire to worship and do something stupid like lift my hands!

For too long I have felt so cynical towards worship unable to commit or to see the point but the truth of it was that I felt unworthy to worship. In that I could not submit my heart. I felt dirty and ashamed of myself. I let my shit swallow me whole.

I am finally coming back to the understanding that Jesus Christ laid down death in its grave giving me not just eternal life but life for here and now. That is not contingent on me, my actions, or how I feel today or tomorrow. It’s eternal and overpowers all that I am and have been. I am fallen but I don’t have to live in that! Rejoice I say Rejoice I am redeemed!

Though the Earth Cried out for blood
Satisfied her hunger was
Her billows calmed on raging seas
for the souls on men she craved

Sun and moon from balcony
Turned their head in disbelief
Their precious Love would taste the sting
disfigured and disdained

On Friday a thief
On Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
But awoke with keys
Of Hell on that day
The first born of the slain
The Man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave

So three days in darkness slept
The Morning Sun of righteousness
But rose to shame the throes of death
And over turn his rule

Now daughters and the sons of men
Would pay not their dues again
The debt of blood they owed was rent
When the day rolled a new

On Friday a thief
On Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
But awoke holding keys
To Hell on that day
The first born of the slain
The Man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave

On Friday a thief
On Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
But awoke with keys
Of Hell on that day
The first born of the slain
The Man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave

He has cheated
Hell and seated
Us above the fall
In desperate places
He paid our wages
One time once and for all

Confession, Forgiveness and Grace

Lately, I have been learning a lot about what true grace is. I went out with some friends and had some drinks, I then proceeded to drive home. The end result was me spending a night in jail hanging my head dressed in stripes. I never thought I could get so low in my life as to be arrested for drinking and driving in my home town. In my defense I was originally pulled over for a blown head light and had only had a few drinks. On the other hand there is no defense, I made a mistake and was caught. I deserve what I get. Through this experience I have been given an opportunity to look at my life and reflect. Because of my actions I had to confess to my father who bailed me out (bless his soul), my boss, the youth directors I work with, and my youth kids that I completely and utterly failed. It has been an emotional ride in the past few weeks.

But in this I have seen great rays of grace being showered upon me. My father bailed me out and then continued to take me on a planned surf trip, my best friend fixed my head light, my ministry leaders offered me open arm grace taking me in and letting me cry on their shoulders. Part of my continuation with my ministry was confessing to a full youth group who instead of judging me prayed for me and told me that I was loved in the moments where I felt love was too distant. I’ve been shown love and forgiveness when I didn’t deserve it.

This is the one of the most powerful seasons in life I have experienced. I have been so loved that my transgressions have been forgiven and meet with support and love that I don’t deserve. God is so good, he knows what you need before you can even form the words. This has been a transformative life-giving experience that no theology class or sermon can reproduce or come close to.

I now know what it is to truly confess and put yourself out there at the mercy of those you love and to be accepted for every scratch and dent. For every time I’ve looked down on someone or withheld forgiveness I am truly sorry. I now know what it is to be forgiven, to be washed as white as snow. I have been forgiven for much and so I love much.

Thank you Christ for showing me real love, confession, forgiveness and grace. And thank you to those who have been Christ to me.

Oh the entangled webs of this heart

It’s been a while for me writing down my feelings and thoughts; I’ve been having trouble facing my feelings and thoughts in my own head much less typing them out. So with that excuse this post that may just be rambling but I am a rambler.

I have recently wondered what happened to my heart and who I am. To some I am too calloused and unopen and yet to others I am so sensitive that I come off as homosexual, confusing for me to say the least. What I have noticed is that when I put my heart out there it often gets sent back to me in a mangled state. I think that some where along the way I listened to way to many bad pop songs and saw a bevy of romantic movies that I whole heartedly believed that commercial garbage. I was told over and over God has a special lady just for you and to wait, be patient and guard my heart. And all too often I listened to both of those messages mixing them into a bastard child of inbred wishes and understanding of love.

I now take full responsibility for my incorrect thinking. I made myself this way and I have to undo my decades of miss-education. My life is not cinematic or even well-scripted in the best sense. I will never run to break up a wedding at the last moment stealing the bride and dashing away. I have no eloquent speeches to those women (hell I can barely write a decent blog).   Life is just  one hodgepodge of joy and broken hearts and I am learning to find contentment in the ride.

So all that to say, to my friends getting married this summer mozeltoff

What Do You Want To Do Before You Die?

So as the reality of cancer and my mortality has dawned on me in the past few days I’ve begun to ask myself the question of what do I want to do before I die?

Please do not take this the wrong way this is less of a bucket list of how to spend my final days; instead it is more of what can I do right now that might make my life meaningful. I have no time limit for when I’m going to die, I don’t think it will be any time soon but it honestly could be.

So friends what is on your list?

Get ur Hands up?

So a few weeks ago I attended a Switchfoot concert here in Seattle. Now I know some might think this band is not worth my time or yours but in that I would say you are in the wrong. They have been a constant in my life since my younger days of my musical pallet.  The concert was awesome and Jon Forman is still my hero no matter what you may say, so drop it.

So yes I did listen to Christian music and yes Switchfoot did come a long with that grouping of musical miscreants. Although I do not group them in that category anymore. 

Anyway I digress I wanted to explore something I’ve begun to notice or more so something that has  more so started to claw at my insides is this phenomena of rasing your hands to the sky or to the christ-like rock star/whorship leader on stage. Hundreds of people closing their eyes stretching out their digits while swaying to the music. It’s equivalent to the rock on sign at a tool concert (yes I chose tool on purpose). I don’t understand it anymore or maybe I never did. What are they reaching for and what are they hoping will happen.

The hypocritical reality is I also participated in this ritual during my youthful worship sessions but I never quite new what or why I was doing it. Everyone else seemed to know so I followed. Now that I’ve slightly matured in my faith or more likely just formed a bunch of opinions I hesitate to raise my hands and take part.  Do they know something that I do not? Am I the one missing out because of my unwillingness? Or is this just another way to show my religiousness? Some may say well you can look at this and think it’s stupid (which I do) but is that just your frustration because you really want to? 

Maybe this is true; I once was one of those people and some part of me does miss that. But I refuse to take part in something simply because it feels good being a part of the masses.

One last point I could just be expelling my frustration because I really wanted to deck some these teenage boys in front of me who pushed their way to the front only to raise their rail thin arms right up in front of me blocking my and everyone elses view as well as subjecting us to the incredible stench of their under arms.

The Blog About Cancer

  So as I sit here typing I am recovering from testicle removal surgery. I am doing well I miss righty but it’s going to be OK. So as I have had time to grapple with the idea of cancer and my balls I finally have some reflections to share.

  The truth is that life and death are realities that live in tension with each other constantly. So our days are no less dangerous or vulnerable when we walk out our front doors with or without toting around this cancer label. 

  What I am getting at is that this gift that we called life is always in jeopardy yours just as much as mine. But while I hear tones of surprise because of my out look on this situation others continue amazing lives with with no such thought given. The truth is that I am no more dying than the next person. 

  So with that why not celebrate and see joy, beauty and truth in this gift of a time called life. So this is why I laugh and throw party’s saying goodbye  to my dearly departed testicle. Worrying about what may come adds no quality to this day. Now don’t get me wrong if I am truly facing grim circumstances  I will acknowledge such and take the proper measures to do what is needed and seek treatment but for now I have only lost my right testicle and the remnant(formerly lefty) is doing just fine.

  For what may come I am confident in death as to say I have a great hope that there is something more and something greater than this earthly plain. So for now I revel in the kisses, the embraces, the intimate conversations, the good ball jokes, the bad ball jokes, the encouraging texts, the music of friends, the laughter of others, the occasional road trip and the love that is so very present.

In transit

Well, I am now in Seattle; finally. It’s feels like it’s been a long road to get here and now that I’m here it feels right. Not to say that life here has not been crazy, I am constantly in transit either by bike, ferry or bus. Life is motion. I like that sense that nothing is stagnant. Sometimes while in the office I still feel as though I’m rumbling across the water on the ferry. 

With constant motion comes fatigue. As of now I am doing well with being tired but I can see that becoming and issue with burnout. As for now it’s nice to feel worked both physically and mentally. My training has been stretching my innards to great lengths; building me up and breaking me down. I can feel change moving over me and I’m trying access where that change is and its effect. 

In the stretching and building/breaking process I’ve been reassured about my aspirations for my life and given a new resolve to see them to fruition. This is vague and all things are libel to change, but as of where I stand right now life is good and work is better.

Fairy tale endings and dewdrops

So on the eave of my departure from spokane I am of course reflecting on what I have come to consider my home, and those that made it so. I’ve always been so bad at this sort of thing. Don’t get me wrong I put a lot of meaning into these things as I do most things. I want there to be so much in my goodbyes. I plan out long conversations the perfect punctuation of tears, hugs and laughter. But I’ve never been able to do it well It never lives up to what I create in my head, as usual. To understand my thoughts best I think one of my fictional heroes sums up my thoughts best. 

JD( from Scrubs): Things rarely go exactly the way you want them to, so sometimes you make due with whatever you can get…Endings are never easy; I always build them up so much in my head they can’t possibly live up to my expectations, and I just end up disappointed. I’m not even sure why it matters to me so much how things end here…

I guess it’s because we all want to believe that what we do is very important, that people hang onto our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is: you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better. After that it’s all about the people that you let into your life.  

And as my mind drifted to faces I’ve seen here before, I was taken to memories of family, of coworkers, of lost loves, even of those who’ve left us. And as I rounded that corner, they all came at me in a wave of shared experience…And even though it felt warm and safe, I knew it had to end. It’s never good to live in the past too long.

As for the future, it didn’t seem so scary anymore. It could be whatever I wanted it to be…  And who’s to say this isn’t what happens? Who can tell me that my fantasies won’t come true… just this once?

 This time I’ve decided to try to do my best to reflect and leave things well but then again I’m a work in progress. Thank you to those that have given me so much and given me closure. So as I reflect and love I look to the future where it can be anything I want it to be.