sexy's not coming back.

We’re wheels up tomorrow, let the rascal roadtrip begin.  I plan on blogging all kinds of great pictures and making you all jealous with beautiful prose on how much fun our family is having and how my tan is coming along.  As reality sets in I will probably not blog for weeks on end, owing to a lack of sleep as I rock a rascal, try not to cuss and wonder what we were thinking.  We’re throwing our circus in Big Red (the mini van) and driving to Michigan; with a pit stop in St. Louis for eye surgery.  We’re really excited, and that is proof enough that we watch too many movies.  Stay tuned.

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I went to Fort Smith Christian School.  Right about here you would expect me to input a time frame such as, “for jr high” or “for those awkward years when I exclusively wore jean shorts”.  But you read it right:  I went to Fort Smith Christian School.  I was an eagle from kindergarten through high school graduation.  I could write a book on my experiences in this strange place that- even more strange- I still have an affinity for.  It was southern baptist when I began, but somewhere along the way, the parent church raised a few eyebrows when the pastor took off the tie and the worship leader grabbed a guitar.  And by raised a few eyebrows, I mean got kicked out or maybe left (these are nuances seventh graders never know, and I cannot recall).  The school lasted only a few years after me; its acrimonious end came when it split into two schools; ones that have now come together under the name Union Christian Academy.  No, I am not making this up.

See, I am sidetracked on this school that wants to be a book.  Get thee behind me FSC.  This is not about you.

The reason for mentioning my alma mater is that it was here that I learned a little trick-one that I see exhibited around me in droves these days, and it is beginning to get on my ever-loving, flim-flamming nerves, and yes I just exercised newfound maturity by not cussing with those adverbs as I wanted to.

I learned early on to make whatever I was doing, the cool thing.  And when your class consists of 26 people, this is quite easy.  And so, I spent the greater portion of my little eagle life, attempting to make whatever it was that I was doing the coolest thing around.  I got pretty dang good at it, and I was even encouraged to do so by many of the adults around me.  Because at the time, I was the good kid.  Often, people are surprised that my history isn’t chocked full Jack Daniels or chronic, but sorry, I was the good kid looking down on those who snuck a drink, a smoke or as we are apt to do here in Arkansas, a dip.  And I tried to convince all, including myself, that my way was attractive.

I was simply a marketer.  Peddling my decisions as the better option.  I even drug Jesus into it, trying to make him Miles Davis.  But he would not cooperate.  And over the years, He has changed me.  Thank goodness, he has changed me.

Today, I see clones of my thinner high school self all around.  Celebrity pastors, blog stars and non-profit phonies abound.  Apparently, I was ahead of my time.  Everywhere I look, folks are trying to make their cause, their issue and worst of all their Jesus into the coolest thing that has come around since Tommy jumped on a motorbike in Top Gun.

But Jesus is not sexy, and dying to self has yet to find a marketing push sufficient to allure the self-interested- no matter the spin or the gloss or the viral campaign aimed at making us believe otherwise.  As a kid, all I did was to take the tools of the world and apply them to my own world.  I thought I could beat the world at its own game.

But we will lose that battle every time.  The kingdom is other-worldly.  It is not loud.  It does not boast.  It doesn’t need the acclaim of man.  It prays in quiet closets as others tally and tell.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t know how one tells a story in this world and yet remains unscathed by the pedestal that others are so quick to offer.

We are looking for heroes.  I found one.
He is not of this world, and he wants your heart, not your efforts.