An amalgam of random

 As I sit down to write today, I am aware of several seemingly random threads I feel moved to riff on. They aren't necessarily tied to a particular theme. Still, they feel legit and I don't want them to stay unvoiced merely hoping they will fit in somewhere another time....

Be -vs- Do

As covid numbers continue their fall surge, I am struck by what may be at least partially causing some of the malaise/weariness so commonly being reported. What was normal has not seen so much dishevel since WWII, or maybe the great depression. Most of us have had to adapt to having nowhere to really go and much less to do in the face of lock downs. Shopping is curtailed, layoffs increase exponentially and dining-out cycles between take-out only and 50% limited seating for those brave enough to give it a whirl. Long term care residents live in forced seclusion and travel is risky if not totally limited by the ever-changing pandemic policies. And on it goes......

A sort of ontological lightness is loose in the land. To the extent our identity is coming mostly from our doing rather than our being, one's sense of self can be significantly shaken by the limitations of the day.  I can't help seeing a connection to what I have experienced the first hours/days of any retreat of solitude and silence. As the superficial and artificial aspects of Santiago are quieted, as the silence and solitude bid me to just be and to let go of doing, it is not unusual to feel some initial panic/disorientation at the loss of much of what typically defines me.

But what of all those not accustomed to this type of spiritual discipline? The identity disruption covid has unleashed is undoubtedly a brutal shock. In the bias of my world view, I can only hope and pray that these circumstances may lead a great number to the alternative, invisible world of the dome in which God is King. May the eyes of many hearts be opened wide to the Author of an eternal kingdom that will not be shaken!

A Blessing....of Aging....really!

The drawbacks of seeing one's body age are obvious.  Physical capacities diminish, healing takes longer and the image I see in the mirror reflects this ancient-looking intruder-dude. Yikes!! Sobering signposts of the dwindling sands of life's hourglass. But I have recently been able to appreciate some advantages of being Santiago 7.3:

It has gotten progressively easier not to be as tempted by the b.s. my old nature keeps trying to sell. There is an awareness that time is no longer unlimited (was it ever so?) and it is more obvious that now is all I have. I don't argue as much with myself, I don't resist or fight as much against what I know to be the right thing to do. There is much less temptation to demand myself to stay independent, autonomous. I am so much more thoroughly sold on the absolute futility of blind self-trust. I have substantially accepted the fact that apart from Jesus I can do nothing. It is becoming easier to submit to this spiritual truth as simply the way life works in the kingdom. The hot fires and whipping winds of unbridled youth have been tamed down by the weight of years lived.  Heh, this is a good thing and I am embracing it!

An Orthopedic walk in the dark....such  a thin place.

Just two days ago I had right knee surgery to cut out some torn, medial meniscus.  My long walks of the last year had evidently taken a toll. There was no particular time of injury...it was just the cumulative result of miles upon miles of pursuing a passion for silence and solitude and time with God that my long walks serve so well.

Sandi was my designated driver. Because of covid, she was not allowed to accompany me into the surgery center. She was going to sort of camp out in the Highlander while I had the procedure. It was very early in the morning, pitch dark, quiet, and outside was filled with cold, crisp air. We had a sweet time of chatting in the parking lot...we prayed together. I opened the door and took what turned out to be a significant walk toward what awaited me. 

I imagine one would have to understand my mindset to better understand what follows.  For some time, my reading and the focus of my desire has revolved around pressing through mere intimacy into a deeper union with Jesus. My grip upon my self, my rights, my way, my me has been being loosened. As such, the fact that I was about to be put asleep brought my focus onto the door of consciousness that I was about to go through. I was voluntarily going to give up my grip on consciously existing and submit to the mysterious world of unconsciousness.  As I try and describe it now it seems a bit ridiculous.... maybe overblown?  Regardless, that morning, during that walk, I said in my heart goodbye to Sandi, goodbye to my life and consciously surrendered myself into the hands of Father. 

It was a holy transaction....a place of weightiness. I was aware of a deep relinquishing of my will and an acceptance of transition into the kingdom reality that awaits.  Oh my.... it feels futile to even try and describe the essence of it. Yet I do so to remind myself of the beautiful, peaceful holiness of the surrender I was willing to make if my time here was up.  It was profound....it was a sober, peaceful bubble with a backdrop of bitter sweetness for what I was relinquishing...Father was there...I was willing....I guess enough said.

Transition to next chapters...

I believe the recovery process of this recent surgery offers me a sort of natural transition. As for so many, 2020 has been a year that defies description. Lots of loss, plenty of chaos, sources of free anxiety by the handful. My Camino calling unrealized, now freshly mourned, with uncertainty as to whether it may ever be resurrected. As the long dark nights of winter approach, I stand ready for what comes next. My radar shows a fast-approaching season of finally submitting to Sandi's vision of diet and nutrition. Not exactly a heroic move on my part. I do so amid the shambles of sloppy eating habits that have long been candidates for crucifixion. 

My dream right now is to receive sufficient healing to regain full walking capacity. To continue in reaching for the 'more' Father has for Sandi and I, to squeeze out what can be had from what we have been given. Time is so much shorter now. Intentionality feels so vital. Consider me woke!

Stay suited up Santiago....the game is not over......

Jimmy - Jim -- James - Santiago....What's the deal?

As my mind continues along a spectrum from sharp to duller, thought I would seed some words of explanation as it relates to the process of becoming Santiago. This way, 5 years from now, when I have completely forgotten how I got to wherever I end up, I can come back to this Reese's Pieces trail and recreate the journey.

As a kid I was Jimmy to my parents, relatives and others. I remember a little red felt hat that came from the Mn State Fair that had 'Jimmy' stitched on the front.  There you go, proof positive that Jimmy was the kid that I was because hats just don't lie!  As the years went on, I morphed into simply Jim, short and sweet and without the cutesy little boy ring. I was Jim for a very long time.  Although my given name is James (after my father's middle name) I never liked being referred to by it. It just seemed too formal, too stiff, too stuffy, too dressed up for me.

Fast forward many years to my first Wild at Heart bootcamp. It was 2003 and I was about to go through a weekend in the mountains of Colorado that would forever change me. A retreat with 300+ other men that came with expectant hearts...hearts which yearned to gain deeper access and understanding of our role as men in the kingdom of God.  As the weighty weekend progressed, we came to a session called The New Name.  We were referred to Rev 2:17 ".....To him who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it."  Before being dismissed for a time alone with God, we were instructed to ask God what his name was for us.  

I confess that I knew little beforehand about what this weekend was going to cover or any of it's agenda....except for one thing. I had somehow heard about the "new name" deal.  As I anticipated the weekend, it became a major point of anxiety for me. What if I didn't hear anything from Father? I pictured everyone reconvening, all excited about what they had heard. What if I had heard/received nothing? As the weekend progressed, we were spending frequent times alone with God as we pondered the questions we were assigned in between sessions. Once dismissed, we each kind of disappeared into the mountainous terrain for solitude. We generally had about 35 or 40 minutes and it was important not to be late when time to return.. I found my own special place to go at Frontier Ranch. It required me to hustle because it took 5 or 6 minutes one way. But when I got there, with the mountain at my back, under a rock outcropping and overlooking a spectacular valley, I knew I had found a special place....a thin place brimming with silence and solitude!

After asking Jesus what he knew me as, what he called me, my answer was not long in coming. I heard from him very clearly although not without some confusion. "James, friend of Christ, warrior, restorer in the army of heaven". James?  Really? Even though it was never used, that was just my given name. Restorer? What is that supposed to mean? Friend of Christ....really....really Lord? Warrior?....wow! Regardless of my questions, I knew in my 'know-er' that I had accurately heard from Abba and I held tightly to what he had said and the precious white stone it was to me. 

As this is merely a blog and not an epic novel, suffice it to say that the next 10 to 15 years brought me an ever-increasing understanding of my name James and how Jesus viewed me through it. My identity in Christ continues being developed, transformed and increasingly grasped by me as the years of my life tick by. Three years after that bootcamp, I received an invitation to be part of a small intercessor team that was a behind-the-scenes part of each Colorado weekend. It was April, 2006 and one of our six-member team, Jesse, had just returned from walking the Camino de Santiago across northern Spain.

As we initially gathered for our first session together, we exchanged names and told a bit about ourselves. After what I shared, Jesse responded to me with these words: "James huh....I shall call you Santiago." And he did, throughout the weekend and I loved it. In Spanish it literally means: Saint James, who of course was one of the twelve apostles of Christ. Despite this lofty literal definition, it seemed somehow right even though I had no particular reason as to why it did. Jesse, my younger brother by 40 years, had bestowed the name of Santiago on me for a weekend. The glorious weekend ended and with it this new name, at least as it related to me, went dormant for a bit.

A couple of years went by and the name Santiago drifted in and out of my consciousness. Meanwhile, I found myself among some friends who regularly shared each other's "blog" postings. Not knowing what a blog was, I did some investigation and began to read what they were writing. I was inspired to give it a whirl and in Feb., 2008 this very blog I am typing in today was born...500' Flyby.

It was interesting to look back and see that I often started referring to myself as Santiago at the close of many of my blog postings. As a matter of fact, it was only a few weeks from my initial post that the name Santiago made it's appearance. Obviously the echo of that profound weekend five years earlier and the name Santiago which accompanied it had not disappeared from my mind. Twelve years have gone by since those early posts. Today, many people in several circles exclusively refer to me as Santiago. Most times, it's how I introduce myself.  But you might ask, "So what?" 

Well for me it's a bigger deal than would initially appear to the casual observer. Why?  Because as the years of my life have piled up, my focus has grown very intentional on a more intimate, authentic union with Christ. It has definitely come to define an increasingly significant part of my life. I am aware that the man I am today is an active work in kingdom progress and I can clearly see the marks of the divine potter upon the clay of who I am ever- becoming. Santiago is a new name for me. I believe it is neither capricious nor accidental.

And so, as my old friend Walter Cronkite (whom I so desperately miss in these dystopian times) used to say, "And that's the way it is....." Santiago for me is no gimmick. Nor is it merely a re-branding of the old me. Although I have far to go, I am indeed saint James by dint of the finished work of Jesus Christ upon the cross, his resurrection from the dead and his ascension back to the right hand of the Father. The name Santiago provides me a constant reminder of who I am and how I am known in the kingdom as opposed to the world's labels and opinions of me. It grounds me in the invisible truth of who I am in Christ. It refocuses my temptation to be anxious, self-critical, judgemental, angry and foul-mouthed onto Paul's exhortation: to seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. And it rekindles my ultimate hope that when Christ who is my life appears then I also will appear with him in glory!

"And that's the way it is ...."   

Good Santiago....as they say in baseball..."ya got a piece of it". That's good for now...