In seems like in life as we navigate through our respective courses we reach a point where the choices become many and the need for clarity, direction and purpose become something that takes our full attention—and if our goals are not reached we come to a point of frustration: a deadend if you will. As we are not created to live in a corner somewhere by ourselves forward motion is needed to keep us moving on the path that is set before us.

Sure, there are times of rest and relaxation—times of renewal and even times of doing absolutely nothing at all. You can't always be planting or tending the garden—sometimes we just need to pull up the easy chair and take in everything that is around us.

If you are like me, when these points of departure are reached what is needed is a breakthrough in order for us to get beyond what is today and what tomorrow will be for us if we are in a position to see it for what it is.

A breakthrough is defined as: an act or instance of removing or surpassing an obstruction or restriction; the overcoming of a stalemate.

In my last post I mentioned fasting ice cream and wine but didn't really go into the dynamics of what brought me to this point in the past couple of weeks.

After attending the movie premier of "The List" I began to realize that I still had some very deep feelings about some of the people involved in the church I attended for 22 years. I thought that I had resolved most of these things and had found a place to file them but apparently had missed a few. What I then realized is that I had been avoiding dealing with these feelings that were just deep enough to be hidden from my sight but were a active part of what I was feeling and dealing with on a more or less conscious plain. In other words that extra glass of Merlot at night was really being used as an attempt to mask what was really going on underneath the surface of my life.

But the Holy Spirit is faithful to let us only go for so long on our solo path and seeing those people at the movie premier was His way of bringing my frustration to the light so that He could help me deal with it and achieve the breakthrough that is needed.

In the process of working through this latest and significant part of my freedom quest, I talked to my farmer friend Alan in order to get his perspective on the steps I needed to take to get to the next town on the map of my life. He told me that my feelings towards the people from my past were probably not as strong as the feelings I had towards what these people represented in my life. In other words our struggle is not against flesh and blood but principalities and powers. And that even though he understood my struggle and desire to get beyond these feelings—being less of who I am or cuttting off a part of me was not the way to work through the mess and achieve breakthrough.  The way forward is not through lobotomy but acutally lies in becoming more of who we are rather than cutting off a part of ourselves that has been minimalized or has gotten us into conflict with others in the past.

And I just wanted to get beyond my problems. Here was a friend offering me a way to actually become victorious rather than just make it through an uncomfortable place.

So I thought that the best way to achieve this was with a clear head and this is what I found. Giving up wine for a time has helped me see that everything is still the same yet at the same time has allowed me to rest in what is really going on and let the process of God and time take me to that place of healing and breakthrough.

Today, I will visit a friend who will help me clear out some old thought patterns and and break out of the rut that I have been in—I can hardly wait. Then I will take a swim and let the water of life surround me—I will breathe deep and begin to look forward to the ride ahead of me.

I remember a time several years ago when the pastor of the church I was attending called a fast. I can't remember what the fast was for but aside from the few times I have felt to fast on my own or with my wife, I don't really like it when someone else decides it is time for "us" to fast. It all sounds so not like what I want to do and so inconveinent.

I do remember thinking that even though I didn't agree with his timing there was probably some benefit that would come of it anyway if I was obedient to the purpose—that is to get closer to God or get His attention or something like that.

So, I decided to fast ice cream. At the moment of conception it seemed a little surreal to me as well and quite laughable in some sense. I think what the pastor was looking for was a little more substantial like giving up TV for a period of two weeks or missing lunch or dinner—something that would really hurt and mean something and be super effective.

I think there is some sort of agreement (scripturally based of course) that says you tell no one while you are fasting what it is you are giving up.

In conversations after the fact (fast) people would look at me in disbelief and almost laugh out loud when I told them what it was I "fasted". It was almost as if to say..."How spiritual can you be if all you gave up for two weeks was ice cream—anybody could do that."

What they didn't know was that was what I thought at first as well. They also didn't know that every night at nine o' clock sharp I had to have a bowl of ice cream—it was my reward for being a good guy and making it through the day without harming myself or anyone else. I liked Breyers and of course Hagen Daz—the more calories the better. This habit had a hold of me and had been going on for a couple of years—I was an ice cream junkie.

Well wouldn't you know it that after the two week fast I didn't need ice cream every night any more. I could take it or leave it and mostly left it alone for awhile. Now when we get it I eat it for a day or two and then don't think about it for several weeks—a much more rational path I am sure you will agree. And to the point of what a fast is really supposed to do...break the chains of things that bind us and hold us back from being free to serve the Lord and hear His voice.

So, a week ago I gave up wine for a two week period as well. I do like a Merlot or a Cab or a good Zinfindel...maybe a little too much. So once again I strive to find a balance between pleasure and over-indulgence—God gave wine to make glad the hearts of men it says in the King James version and the balance to that is Paul's admonition to be not drunk with wine wherein there is excess but be filled with the Holy Spirit.

I like a glass of wine and I like being filled with the Holy Spirit and balance is important in life as it is in riding a bike—you only get to where you are going if you pedal straight and stay on board.

Sometimes I am hesitant to blog when it doesn't seem that I have something well thought out and worthwhile to talk about. Sometimes the everyday stuff does take on a life of its own and then becomes something to process and work through in writing form. Sometimes—I guess—a little can go a long way.

Such is today—a day when lots of things are floating around and seemingly just waiting for me to pull them out of the air and try and make some sense of them on paper.

As many of you know, I began blogging shortly after leaving a church that my wife and I had attended and been a part of for almost 22 years. And as you can well surmise, you don't just leave a building behind you but lots of relationships that seemingly get stuck in time if they even continue at all.

I was naive enough to think that a new church and some re-newed relationships would get all my ducks in a row and that things would be back to "normal" before too much time had passed. After a brief period of focused repair and releasing a lot of thoughts and feelings, I thought I had really turned a corner—and to be honest—in reality—had. But what I have found is once again the old onion analogy—when you peel a few layers away there are several more underneath those.

Are we ever fully free from feelings of betrayal or abandonment—of a loss that seems to never let you find a peace within yourself? I don't know at this point.

What I do know is that when I sense a nudging from the Holy Spirit, I am often "reluctant" for a time to consider it and still continue to try and let things work out on their own. And the answer to dealing with some of what life throws at us is not in avoiding the problem in hopes it will work itself out or go away or by mediating the issues of life with a glass or two of wine. Most of these techniques just tend to bury the feelings that are wanting to get out a little deeper. They don't go away until they find a place to dwell and find resolution.

Take for instance this scenario: Last week Sandi and I went to a movie premier of "The List" at which time we saw many people from our old church who had also been invited. To be honest, I really didn't want to talk with a few of them and spent most of my time in the VIP lounge before the movie talking with other people. I don't know about you but I don't like living my life having to avoid people and having the feelings about them that preceed this avoidance.

But at the same time—I am glad that I was put in this situation as it has given me a new slant on what is really going on underneath the surface of my otherwise "orderly" life. I firmly believe that the Holy Spirit allows us to see things that He is aware of in order that we might deal with them and be free from whatever it is that might be holding us back from being "fully alive". Am I sometimes reluctant to do something about what I see—yes. Do I have all the answers as to how to get to where He wants me to be (happy and fullfilled)—no I don't.

But a beginning has been made. I will lay off the wine for a while and allow the leading of the Spirit to direct me in the path I am supposed to take. And I believe that the answers I have been looking for (and also avoiding) will soon show themselves much as a new flower begins to bloom after a late frost.

Having just re-read my first post I feel it is time for at least a brief update on the journey and any progress that has been made in that direction.

Life has not gotten any easier—if anything there are more questions now than ever before and the answers and application of truth that follows seems to be more significant in the effects that any movement this way or that way will have on my life.

In other words life is still day by day.

I am in the process of reading Donald Miller's "Searching for God Knows What", Thomas Merton's "Opening The Bible" and "The Seven Ages", a book of poetry by Louise Glück.

I am listening to a new CD by Heather Clark intitled "Vial of Worship" which in my opinion is as good a Christian music CD as any I have ever heard.  It has helped me make it through the day many times in the past several weeks.

Sandi and I have had some people over for a get-to-gether a couple of times in the past month—people from the past and present mingling together. We have also been invited and gone to another get-to-gether at the home of a good friend. I am impressed by the amount of vulnerability that many of these people we have gotten together with in the past couple of weeks are willing to live in.

I am mostly an open book type of person—if I am down you know it and if I am up—well you know that as well. I am not a poker player and don't cultivate a facade of the socially acceptable Terry as opposed to the one you find out about several week or months after you get to know me. I think and process my life out loud—often with people I consider friends and confidants. I am at that point in my life where I have once again been reminded that I need to process less of my frustration out loud—that an idle, unguarded word can come back to haunt you at the most un-opportune time. That if what you say can be mis-interpreted—it will be—and often to your determent.

I have lived long enough to see both my earthly father and mother pass on. I am aware—as if in a twilight time of day—that there is a void in my life with their absence but can't explain what that means or even begin to get my head around what that might look like.

I took off work early the other day in order to take a late afternoon bike ride. By the time I had reached my house, the sky was getting darker and the possibility of rain was near. So I weeded my beans for a while and then it rained and as quick as it rained it cleared up and I dressed for a ride and left from my neighborhood. As soon as I made the top of the hill the clouds had begun to form again but since I was on my way I thought maybe the rain would pass me by. A couple of miles into the ride, the rain began and I was lightly pelted with a warm water spray for the the next several miles as I worked my way back home. As I approached my home the rain stopped and so did I and that was the extent of my ride that day—9 miles.

Life is like that—you can't always predict—even with radar—what the future 15 minutes will hold. So you just have to take off and hope you don't get to wet when it does rain on your ride.

And—accordiing to the latest news reports—the Pope has re-interated the fact that he believes that the churches that I have attended for most of my life do not have the means to salvation in them.

You could have fooled me—I wonder what translation he is reading.

Everything is up in the air at this moment and being tossed about—where things that were, will land, remains to be seen.

I will have to admit that in my attempts to free myself from the religious box that I found myself in only led to another box—bigger perhaps—but still boxy and all that implies.

Let me explain.

Reading a book entitled "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller opened up my world view and helped me understand that there is more to this thing called Christianity than I had ever believed. It is a book that I was meant to read—like a mystery novel that I couldn't put down until I had finished it. It is a book that within itself has the ability to launch you like a kite on the beach—you can go as high as the length of cord you have on the spool in your hand.

I thought that I had arrived at freedom—yet I found myself still bound up with all sorts of false assumptions about the Christian faith I have been a part of all these years.

In the book he talks about passion and sharing your faith—both areas that I believe that I have struggled with in the past couple of years due to what I pereceived to be the dis-function of the local church I attended. In explaining my perceived deficiencies to a friend the other day based on what I had read, I was brought up short and almost rebuked by him.

I felt that I had not been living as a good Christian in a very global sense—at which point he reminded me that if not for my friendship, he might not have made it through a recent hard time in his life. He explained to me that I had lived out my Christianity in being a friend to him when he needed it and didn't know what would have happened to him had I not been there for him during this time.

In other words he talked me out of feeling good about feeling bad about myself all in the space of a couple of minutes.

If reading Blue Like Jazz helped me launch into the unknown, a book entitled Velvet Elvis has taken me into zero gravity by the time I reached the second chapter. What I want to know is where have these books been hiding? I guess it is true that there is a time and a season for all things—to read a book out of season is an exercise in futility. You won't read past the introduction if it is not your time to explore what the book has to offer.

Suffice it to say, the dock where my boat has been moored for the past few years has been moved and I am out here in the dark with my flashlight trying desperately to find it.

There will be more later on as I follow the path that I have been given to walk—or run—or ride.

I have always related to the story in the Bible about the father who individually asked his two sons to go work in the vineyards. One said he would and didn't go—the other fussed about it and at first didn't go but thought better about it and went. The question was then asked as to which one had done the will of the father.

I will have to admit that I normally hesitate at first when asked to do anything which leads me to believe I would have made a bad soldier in the Army—when asked to jump you do and ask questions about it later.

As I have progressed in things spiritual, I have gone from saying no at first most of the time and then a day or so later saying yes—to only taking a few minutes or hours to realize I have made the wrong reply. In other words, I sense and see a "reluctance" working in my life—even after all these years of claiming to be a Christian.

According to the dictionary, reluctance implies: "...some sort of mental struggle, as between disinclination and sense of duty."

Passionate people should not be a reluctant people—so does my reluctance indicate a lack of passion and perhaps an authenticity in my life that needs to be looked at or investigated as you would a meteor that has just fallen to earth from a distant planet.

I have reached that point in life where there are more questions than there are answers—and in a post-modern sense am in process of looking at everything I do and have done for the past couple of years beginning with my beliefs about church, duty and spirituality.

Even my relationship with my wife is in the hopper and getting stirred up a bit—the other night we got in the car and drove to the local greenway to take a walk rather than our regular walk around the neighborhood and back which we have done for almost 22 years on a regular basis.

It is out of the box yet our lives are at that point where they demand that we take a more active role in promoting our relationship. I have reached a hard-place where things that once came easy and therefore didn't get much attention are now front burner issues that have heated up to the point the tea pot is telling me to do something with it.

In reading a book entitled "Blue Like Jazz" the question is implied that if you are passionate about your relationship with Jesus, you will tell other people about it in a non-religious way as you would as if you we telling them about a great movie that you just saw—yet how many of us have shared our faith with anyone in the last several months—or gone out of our way to be friends with an interesting person we know is not a Christian yet. This is not a post about becoming "missional" but does beg the question about what we have done with what we have heard as Christians.

In my most recent thoughts I have become aware of the fact that I have served (when I did) my church and the people it is made up of out of a sense of duty and not out of a sincere love for all things Christ. I also know that it wasn't always that way but can't remember when things changed—when church became something I "did" rather than something I "was".

I (had) have a dream of a community of believers who so display the fragrance of God that their lives become like an irresistable force—like that "...out of their bellies will flow rivers of living water" type dynamic.

I also know that I never thought I would be where I am right now—a place of hard questions and doubt—when I thought everything would be all worked out and me and the missus would be cruising our way into retirement. We are cruising all right, but it is not to retirement—it is to weddings and farmer's markets and making extra money and finding time to do all those things people of our age should be doing by now.

We have lived in our house long enough that maintenance is required—pipes are developing leaks that need to be fixed and toilets need their internal organs replaced to keep from leaking and well performing freezers have now given up the ghost right after they received the ten gallons of hand-picked strawberries.

Rain has been sporatic but the weeds seem to disobey all the laws of nature and grow tall anyway. And you know how difficult it is to pull weeds out of dry packed ground without taking the rest of the plants with it.

I guess what I am saying in this first post—the process has begun and I am getting more comfortable with the fact that I am going to have to go with the flow of it or end up being a miserable old man at some point in the future.

And none of us want that—do we?