the real world

The past week and a half I've been here in New Hampshire, working at Camp Brookwoods. I'm one in the Otter cabin, which means that twelve sets of parents have trusted me with their thirteen year old sons. They have no clue who I am, and yet because I'm associated with Brookwoods they believe that I will not only take care of their kids, but that I'll help those kids grow in Christ (and maybe teach them something like mountainboarding).

During worship this morning Pastor Mark said something about having a half a week left until we go back to "the real world." This is something I've been thinking about for some time now, mostly because of something Cody said to me last year (or in 2009, they all run together). He said that out there isn't the real world. That this place, this amazing place, is more real than anything we'll find back there. At the time I really didn't buy into what he was saying, but now I couldn't agree more.

This period the kids who are in Narnia (an activity where they listen to and learn about Narnia) are working through The Last Battle. In the end of the book, the kids realize that the Narnia they are in looks just like the Narnia they came from. Doctor Kirke says that the "new" Narnia is the true one and that they one they grew up knowing is merely a reflection of this true place. "This," Digory says, "is the Aslan's country."

I feel that camp is a lot like that. It's a place where you can be honest about who you are, you can trust people with who you are, and they can do the same. It's a place where, to put it simply and not mince words, the Kingdom of God is coming. And what is more real than the kingdom coming? What is more real than a place where you can sense God's presence.

This place is real life. It's as real as it gets. It's hard, it hurts sometimes, and it's real.

I hope that sometime you get the chance to get up here. And if you have been up here before, real life misses you.

pray/bless

How do you open a post where you're asking for help? The word "help" would probably be a good start, but it just doesn't seem to do it.

For those of you who don't know, I'm currently working two jobs: running the summer camp for the teen(os) at Harvest Hands, and working the weekends at Barista Parlor. I'm glad to be doing both, but it's pretty tough to not have any days off. The summer is two and a half weeks from being done, so I only have sixteen more days of it (positive thinking, right?). But right now I'm tired. I know that this is mostly my own fault: working two jobs, going to sleep too late and not jumping out of bed in the morning, etc. But that doesn't take away from the one glaring fact of my existence right now:

I'm worn down.

This isn't a new feeling, nor is it unexpected. I knew this would eventually happen and still pursued this lifestyle because, mostly, I wanted to see if I could handle it. Over the past six months I've: moved away from home on a whim, crashed on a friends couch for a couple months, driven my car all around, and now am working two jobs. I enjoy pushing myself and seeing what I can do. But I feel like I've pushed myself to almost the edge, so now I'm here asking for help.

Here's what I need:

A prayer. Just a short one, for good rest and patience. I need to be able to focus on the reason why I'm at Harvest Hands this summer, and how I can do the best work I can do. It's really easy to lose perspective and get tired with what I'm doing, think that I'm not doing enough, or can't make an impact.

If you have the time I could really use a blessing. Whatever that looks like from you to me.

I know that it's not comfortable to ask for these things, especially when we're supposed to be "independent" and not need help. It's not hip to ask for help, it's not cool to admit that you can't do it. But right now I'm ok with that.

And here's the other thing: I'm sure that at some point you're gonna feel the same way. If we don't live in the same city there's no way for me to know that, so please tell me. I want to help, sometimes I just need to know when and how.

Thanks for reading, hope to hear from you either way.

Luke
Luketlancaster@gmail.com

play

For memorial day weekend I went home to visit with the family before my summer in Nashville started. I hopped in the car on Friday morning after a stop at Barista Parlor and was home by eight that night. One of the reasons why I went home was because of these two:

My nephews, Caden and Jacob (or Cade and Jake if you like). They're pretty cute, though I suppose I am a little biased. I really did want to see Mom and Dad before they left for their trip to San Fransisco, and I wanted to see Sam and Melissa and catch up about life. But there is something about hanging out with a two and (almost) one-year-old. And they're boys, which is easy for me. 

The most special moment of the trip happened on Sunday as Sam, Melissa, Jake, Cade and myself were on our way down to Springfield for the day. If you've never crammed in a VW Pissat with two other adults and two kiddos than you won't understand the experience. And if you have, I feel for you (At one point Melissa remarked that this was perfect birth control for me, and that I would go back to Nashville and write a blog about the loud car ride to and from Springfield). There was a lull in the conversation between Sam and me and so I did what every adult does in that situation: looked back at the kids (babies are great for this. I don't know how I got through life without a baby to look at when I didn't know what to say to someone). Jake was being like his dad, loud. He wasn't fussy (yet), he was just having a really good time hollering about something. I looked back, pursed my lips and pressed my finger to them, shut my eyes tight, and said "shhhhh!!!!" He giggled, probably (correctly) thinking that Uncle Luke was being silly. Cade looked over at Jake giggling and did the same. We went back and forth a couple of times: Uncle Luke "shhhhhh-ing," Jake giggling, Cade giggling.

Out of all the things that happened that weekend, all the conversations I had, this is the event that has stuck with me. The word I think of when I think about when I think about this time, about any time with my nephews is a simple, old one:

Play.

When I think about those two I think about playing, I think about throwing them up in the air, whirling them around, tickling and blowing raspberries on tummies. I think about Toy Story, Toy Story 2, and Toy Story 3. About big, goofy, Lancaster smiles at cameras. About play.

After thinking about that for a while I started asking myself another question:

Why don't I play anymore?

I don't call my friends up and say, "You wanna go out and play?" Because they'd probably think I was a little crazy. Or their response would be, "Play what?" And I wouldn't have much of a response to that. But is it a problem that they would respond that way? I don't think so. Deep within my heart I have a yearning to splash around creeks, tromp through the woods, bloody up knees and elbows, and come home as the sun is setting. I don't know if it needs to be planned out, or if there needs to be deep meaning attached to it. I simply want to play.

Part of me is thinking that this may just be me trying to avoid the trials of adulthood, but another part is telling me that I'm merely trying to simplify what I call adulthood. To let life be life, and to live it. 

Luke

luketlancaster@gmail.com

@luketlancaster on twitter

lalaluke on instagram

guest post: smell the roses, blow out the candles

Every time someone decides to let me publish their words I get real excited. And then I don't do anything with those words for a long time. But I have some free time for the next hour or so (Rob is in Brentwood, and I don't have a key) and I thought I would write. I then remembered that Zach Erwin wrote a little something and I said that I would post it on my blog. That was a couple of weeks ago, so sorry to Zach for being such a bum.

Zach was one of my campers last year at Brookwoods. I'm proud of the man he's becoming, and I'm glad that I've had the opportunity to visit him in Louisville three or four times since camp. I don't know what else I can say by way of introduction, so I'll let his words speak for himself. If you'd like to get a hold of him let me know and I'll see what I can arrange. And if you'd like to post something (either as me or as yourself) let me know and let's make that happen. 

Without further ado, here are Zach's words: 

"Life, the compilation of multiple years meshed together to form lives. Each year that passes we should hold in memory, but never wish to return to that year. In Tuesday's With Morrie, a recurring theme is that it is never good to wish we were somewhere in our past, nor should we ever hope for the future to come quicker than it will.

Wishing for the past is an empty wish because if we were in the past we would never know what we had learned since then; wishing to "redo" a moment just doesn't work, because without it we would never have learned what we learned in the moment. What I'm saying is that without those moments, without those mistakes, we would never be able to be in a place where we saw that they were a mistake.

Wishing for the future to come is a wish that you will regret in the future itself. By not taking advantage of the place you are currently you are wasting your own time. If you don't look for the value in each moment you will never realize the price of that moment, that each moment holds an opportunity that you will never get back. Even now I'm sitting on the floor, bow tie and glasses on in my uncles house hours after my great aunt's funeral service; so the value of life is a little more on my mind than ever.

All around me there's a small party of talking adults -- many of which are faking there way through a conversation that they aren't interested in. Is that even practical? Is that a good way to spend life? Is typing this on an iPad a waste of my time?

I ran with Clay today, is that ok? How about chilling out with a game of Mario after a stressful day? Should one always push and press on?
The audio buzzing around me is a conglomeration of many conversations, all talking about something different: some new achievement, what they plan on doing in the future, etc. But I would bet none are talking about Christ. Why is it that so many flinch and shy away at Jesus's name? People remain civilized when they talk about Buddha and Brahman and Allah and even the ever so broad term "god," but if Jesus comes up in conversation all bets are off, lawyers called, and lawsuits filed.

What does Jesus even think of this? What does he think of how we spend our life? It's amazing that we could hear the greatest truth and walk away not talking about it. I mean come on.

John 3:16

How many eyes just rolled or people went through the verse in their mind and then toned out what they're reading now. How can we be tired of John 3:16? That's insane. "For God so loved the world" the beginning alone doesn't even make sense, much less the rest of it, "that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life."

They say that when you have a favorite book you wish you had not read it only because you want you could read it again for the first time with a freshness that only comes with the first reading, because there is something about reading text for the first time that holds your attention captive. Then there are those texts that even hold you for ransom and only desire the retribution of understanding.

So do we think we have paid our ransom to the Bible? Even more specifically to the text of John 3:16? How audacious of us to think we have understood this. If we have then to hell with the Bible; to hell with Christ even. If you think you have the Bible understood then you might as well do with it what you do with a book you are done with: sell it to half price books or give it away.

Some of you are offended by what I just said but if your body or mind had no reaction to John 3:16 then what I said is true. That immense truth claim should either evoke disgust, if you don't believe it; confusion, if you don't understand it; relief, if you believe it; or AT LEAST SOMETHING! Cause if it doesn't, then we're messed up. I'm not here to preach because my reaction is just the same -- no reaction at all. "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand  rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed." All I'm saying is that our eyes have been closed to the wonder of the scriptures that we've heard over and over and over and over again, but we have got to wake up or we will sleep for the rest of our lives."