Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Two Poems - Patrick Lowry

This is Patrick's first submission to the Fire Bowl.  Patrick writes poetry and essays, can be seen about town on his trusty bicycle and loves to reminisce about his time as a surfer in the 60's and his awesome childhood in Morocco.  Welcome, Patrick!


Joy

Joy doesn't count it's hours out loud
Or brag about it's girth
It claims neither color or weight
Joy is not proud
Yet it can make whole the broken
And break the door of Hell


My #1 Buddy in the 4th Grade

You might not even notice him at first
He's kind of quiet
And not very tall
On the shy side
He'll never make the team
Or be cool
But he can fix broken stuff
And he knows the way home

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Joy, I got nothin'! - Beth Morgan

I've been trying to think about this subject of “joy” for a few weeks now and felt like “I got nothin'!”. I'm pretty sure that one of the ideas behind this communal blog is for each contributor to be inspired by the offerings of another and, fortunately this week, James' post found itself a part of a stream of nudges from God; in my own present search for peace, hope and a dose of renewed faith, his words encouraged me that these are attainable in those moments when you feel that they are not. In those moments, I am not even thinking about pursuing joy, but, as I reflect on God's promises, I see how silly it is to NOT invite joy along. God's presence IS our joy; our strength IS the joy of the Lord; His joy is complete in us.

You know those times when you know truths like these in your head, but you're not sure how capable you are of taking them to heart in the present moment? Thank God for grace that still speaks through with these nudges through the words of others, or through song lyrics happened upon on the radio. Then you at least get to a place where you have enough “something” to get yourself to speak the truths out: God, you are trustworthy and I believe it. And to a place where you can pray beside others: God, you are faithful. I believe you are faithful. We believe you are faithful. You will guide, you will provide just like every time before. My faith is small right now, but you are the same.

Once a month I have the privilege of leading worship at my church and this Sunday, as another attempt of speaking out His promises in faith, I chose to do this little ditty, “The Joy of the Lord”.
When I am weak, He is strong and I can lean on Him.
No need to fear, I will have faith and I will shout for joy.
And when I stumble, He picks me up and I'm gonna jump for joy.
The Joy of the Lord is my strength.
Interesting that this song was taught to me years ago by Chris; hence, another roundabout way of being inspired and encouraged by someone connected to this blog.

Someone recorded the song with an iPod, so here's a humble offering of poor video and sound quality, but an invitation to Joy nonetheless.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Bring 'em On - Aaron Alford

His back ached. It had been a long day, and the sun was relaxing by the hills in the west. 

Shadows lengthened on the dirt the children ran on. He was drawing in the sand with a little girl whose name he couldn’t quite pronounce. He drew a smiling face, and she echoed it back. 

He adjusted his feet and felt the discomforting tingle of his right foot waking up. He cringed a little as his back made a slight ‘pop’. It was exactly then that he was landed on. A stocky little boy of about six had jumped squarely upon his shoulders, laughing, oblivious to the pain he was inflicting. 

He stood warily, the boy still balancing on his shoulders, still feeling the rush of blood to his foot and the weight of his passenger. Two more boys tackled him from the front and he was quickly on the ground again, now part of a large pile of relentless, giggling kids. 

 “No-no-no!!!” he laughed as they continued their attack. Even his sweet little drawing partner was in on it now. Somewhere out of the chaos, he felt a blinding “whap” to his head. 

“OW!” he laughed. It actually hurt much more than he showed, and he felt his eyes watering slightly. The stocky six-year-old stood there laughing, his weapon dangling incriminatingly from his hand. It’s remarkable how effective a small leather shoe can be. 

He gave the kid a comedically dirty look. “What the heck is that thing made of??” he said as he rubbed his head. 

Chubby eyes smiled with delighted guilt. 

Two more children came running from their mother’s arms to continue the attack, and in a moment, he was on his back in the dirt, being beaten like that man in his story about the Samaritan. 

Finally one of his friends spoke up, silencing the laughter with a tone of authority. “Alright! Alright. Kids, that’s enough. Moms, can you please take your children? The teacher is tired. Time to go.” 

But the teacher protested. “No, no, no!” he said. “I’m fine! Don’t send them off. This is heaven, Peter. Really. They’re giving us heaven right here if you let yourself see it. Let them come! Bring ‘em on!” 

Peter huffed a little, and smiled in spite of himself. “You’re the boss,” he said, and shook his head. 

The teacher wiped his brow and looked into the eyes of his assailants. He rose from the dirt, raised his arms, and launched an offensive attack on the undersized army. He sent them screaming and laughing, and the late afternoon sun set their little faces aglow with glory. 

His back ached even more than it did five minutes ago; his head pulsed with pain. And he was never more alive.



You can read more of Aaron's work at his website aaronalford.net

Monday, April 30, 2012

Ode To Joy - Aron Smith


The word “joy” has numerous associations for me, many of them musical in nature. There is Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” the last movement of his famous Ninth Symphony. There is “Joy to the World,” both the Christmas carol and the Three Dog Night song about Jeremiah (the bullfrog, not the prophet). And last but not least, let us not forget the “Happy Happy Joy Joy” song from The Ren and Stimpy Show (anyone still remember that?).

It has been suggested that true joy can be experienced only by innocent children, those young enough to not have been corrupted by the evils of the world, the cares of everyday life and the influences of Madison Avenue and Hollywood. I don’t agree. I believe that joy can only be achieved by one who has experienced a great deal of pain. Even babies can experience a moment of pleasure, but true joy requires appreciation that comes from life experience.

 I have had two experiences with people who came to define joy in its absence, pointed examples of how much more we appreciate a thing when it is gone.

The first involved the family of an old college friend of mine. After graduation, she joined the Peace Corps and found a new perspective on life in the jungles of Zaire. She was from my hometown in New York, and during her two years away, I often called her mother for updates. We frequently found ourselves drinking tea in her kitchen, commiserating over our respective woes. Hers were so much greater than mine, particularly after her son died of a drug overdose in his twenties. His name was Roy, and I will never forget the day she asked me to view his bedroom, left untouched since the day he moved to an apartment in New York City’s Greenwich Village. The item that remains indelibly stamped on my mind is the JOY sign on his bedroom wall, left over from some past Christmas. He had turned the J upside down so that it looked like the lower case letter R.

My second story occurred many years later, when I was working for the phone company here in California. One day, the manager in charge of quality assurance, efficiency and improvement in employee morale was telling me about her teenaged son. It turns out that her son cleverly came up with a word to describe the feeling he experienced on days when his father was grumpy, critical and yelling. The word was “yoj,” which, of course, is “joy” backwards.

I think most of us would agree that we’ve had plenty of “yoj” in our lives. The good news, however, is that, just like in the kids’ song, “a smile is just a frown turned upside down.” We have the ability to turn “yoj” around.

I have found that one way of returning to joy is by putting things into perspective. Thinking of how much worse a troublesome situation could have been and counting my blessings does help. One of my favorite sayings is “may this be the worst thing that ever happens to me.”

My other method of returning to joy is doing something to help others. To me, joy is the inner glow I feel when I know I have made some tiny contribution to the happiness of another. The giver receives more joy than the recipient. Not only that, but the joy felt by the recipient is likely to positively affect his or her relationships with others, which then gets passed on to still others. I really do believe that everything we do, positive or negative, has a domino effect that ultimately touches multitudes of others farther afield than we could ever imagine. This is why every act we do and every word out of our mouths is so important. You would probably be shocked if you knew how many are regularly influenced by you.

The Bible is full of references to joy. My favorites are both from the Book of Psalms, “make a joyful noise unto the Lord” (Psalms 98 and 100) and “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Ps. 30:5 The first teaches us (among other things) that God wants us to experience joy. The second reminds us that pain is temporary, but joy is forever.

Throughout history, it has been demonstrated that joy is the precipitate at the bottom of the test tube, what remains when all the pain is burned off. We moved from slavery in Egypt to freedom, from bondage to salvation. Wars and economic difficulties end, peace and prosperity return.

And as for making a joyful noise, is it any wonder that our culture so loves its music, whether it be Beethoven or Three Dog Night?

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Find Me - James Harrison

These have been the hardest 9 days in recent memory. The past has caught up with me and, forsaking details, been blown out of proportion (according to my perspective). My name feels sullied among the circle of knowledgeable peers. I’ve gone through many emotions, both foreign and familiar. I’ve been confused and experienced sharp sadness and bubbling guilt, felt misunderstood and repentant... all at the same time. I’m sure many of you can relate to tough times of confusion, when everything becomes affected. Community living has shown one of its cons. 

Today was a bad work day – I’m in a new department where nearly everything is unfamiliar and I did a lot of observing, making me feel useless. I let this cloud hover all day until after dinner. I opened an e-mail from a good friend with only a couple words. One of them was “Joy.” After sorrowfully laughing at the word, I asked myself, “Why was joy so unattainable today? Why couldn’t I find comfort in God while I worked?” I have conviction that joy is possible at all times, so the situation begged the question, “Why not now, even now?" Then the words, “Nothing is impossible with God,” came to mind again. 

I jumped up, grabbed my journal, and wrote this, “You say, ‘It’s you and me till the wheels fall off.’ It really is, God. So, how do we do this? The new Fire Bowl topic is ‘Joy.’ Of course it is. I really believe joy is attainable. But right now I have one resounding question, ‘How, in this impossible time, do I have joy?’ 

‘Find me.’ 

Those quiet words echo through my mind, trailing off to my fingers and toes. The doorway eats up the light around it, but I find the courage to step towards you, cross the threshold, and listen.” 

This evening I listened and heard only quietness. But after a long time, that quietness quieted me and gave me peace. Then it slowly dawned on me: If God can bring peace in our time together, then he really can do anything. Truly, all things are possible with God. With this peace, I can smile while I work, realizing that it’s all going to be okay; I’ll learn in time. With this joy I can realize that my name will be restored if God wants to restore it. In fact, it may not actually be sullied the way I think it is (But we have an enemy who would convince me otherwise). For now, I will be honest and do whatever it takes to find reconciliation. Joy is always available, and if you’re inviting Joy, you may as well give a call to Peace as well and have yourself a party.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Joy - Phil Cunningham

A picture of joy - Eliza Cuninngham. You can read about her family's journeys in YWAM's "Steps of Justice" at their site http://philnamy.com