So, this is what we're up to. First,
Trish's Mom died last Sunday. She was one week shy of her 86th
birthday, which would have been today, Mother's Day. She had been
fighting Alzheimer's for a decade, so she had really been gone for
several years. We are doing well, at peace, and happy for Mom. Second,
the founding of an actual church is still on hold until July. I think
the ulcers are totally gone, but I'm not going to even think about
starting a church until we come back from our July 4th vacation to
North Carolina. Third,
my doctor put me on a low level Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitor. I was
having some pretty major anxiety attacks. It's nice to be able to think
now! A full moon came and went and I didn't even notice. Fourth,
our Goth ministry is no more. Not only am I not a Goth any more, but
the website is gone. I shut down the old Fire and Ice Ministry site
because it was totally out of date, and Ipowerweb shut down the
Gothpunk.org site for nonpayment. I thought the bill was due in June!
But I was thinking about shutting it down anyway. I don't feel I can
adequately minister to the Goths anymore, since I am no longer Gothic.
Fifth, I have two new books coming soon: Something Is Rotten on Azusa Street,
where I look at the apostasy infecting the Charismatic church
(Prosperity, superstition, spiritual abuse, Dominionism and
Shepherding), and As You Love Yourself,
about my brush with death and how it changed me and how I learned to
love myself and actually live. They should be published by the end of
May or early June.
Finally,
some things are shaping up that will totally restructure the nature of
our ministry and the direction it will go, and I'm excited. For some
time, I've wanted to remain as a minister but not be in ministry.
Starting a church seemed like to just add to the problem, not fix it.
Hurting Christians just don't seem to need another church! Then an
alternative presented itself.
I
went for my walk and jog through the park that borders the golf course
behind the apartment complex where I live. On the way back, I stopped
at the picnic area, sat on my usual table, smoked a cigar and prayed
and thought. And thought. And prayed. And thought some more. It
occurred to me that I have reached a point in my life where I actually
want some fame and fortune.
As I sat there, thinking, I realized that the Fort Worth Art Festival
had spoken to something deep inside me. What I had seen and what I had
heard resonated within my soul. I wanted to display my art at art
festivals, and make my life through my painting and photography. I
wanted to do music recitals and make my life through my fiddle. I
wanted to do poetry and book readings and make my life through my
writing. And I wanted to do them in such a way as to challenge people
so they thought about Jesus for themselves and learned to live. I
wanted to be a combination of Ansel Adams, Roger Miller and Brennan
Manning, rolled into one. That answered both the desire to be an artist
that looms in my soul and the call to ministry that God placed in my
heart.
I texted that to my friends, and it wasn't too long before Nick called
with an idea. He told me to work up a routine of stories, music and
art, a 45 minute presentation. He said he would fly out in October, and
we could gather our friends as an audience, I could perform my routine
in front of them, and he would film it and make it into a DVD. Then I
could send the DVD out to local churches and get Wednesday night gigs.
There are certainly enough churches in Fort Worth to keep me busy for
years. This kind of presentation would work well in any denomination,
regardless of creed or belief in speaking in tongues.
That will work! Finally, I have a purpose and a vision. This is the
answer to my months of searching and prayer and angst and anguish!
Nick, I owe you one, buddy! It will take some work and planning, thought and preparation.
I already have the stories in mind. I will tell of my name change, my
parents' garage, how I learned to love myself, and the tone poem I call
"I Have a Photograph," linking them to positive messages of how words
can hurt children, how we need to get the clutter out of our lives, how
we need to really love ourselves, and that we should love our loved
ones while we have them. I could even tell these to non-church groups
as well.
Art presents a challenge. I'm not sure if I want to go with photography
or painting. Probably photography. My art will be challenging. I just
don't see the world like Thomas Kinkade sees it. Small towns are not
charming to me and I see the shadows and flaws in this glorious planet.
I am more inclined to paint a totally scorched and charred landscape
with a single dandelion growing in it as a sign of hope, than to paint
a lush and verdant rose garden.
Music is going to be the hard part. While I do own a fiddle, I have not
played in twenty years. Still, six months ought to give me enough time
to relearn my chops, build back my callouses and transform from
classically trained violinist into pub romping fiddler. I'm not sure
what I'll play yet. Maybe a Hebrew piece for Mom, a bluegrass piece for
Dad, and a Celtic piece for me, with an original New Agey composition
thrown in for the fun of it. I am excited. For once in a long time, I am excited. It's good to have a plan, a purpose, to progress. It's good to be alive! | 
