Did you know?

Fresca goes well with steak and Gnocchi? haha. Well, maybe that's not what great cooks and steak connoisseurs would tell you. They might even say Gnocchi doesn't complement a steak correctly. But who makes those food laws anyway? Either way, I think the fresca refreshed rather well. Low sodium, no calories, great taste! I mean, just look at it standing there. It's probably even thinking, "Man, I belong here!"


By the way, those steaks were great as well!

I just thought I'd share something a little lighter.

a choice that tears...

Inside of me I have a choice that exists. This choice has existed for quite some time now. It's gone away, only to reappear as if it were a familiar season. It's a choice that appears simple, yet somehow complex enough to perplex me deeply. From a certain distance it seems relatively easy to figure out. Many would think it was of no consequence. But for me, it's nothing short of who I am.
Throughout the past few months, even years, I've had people tell me many different things regarding this choice. They've said, "Josh you first need to understand what you're called to do. Then go after it." Or maybe they even uttered, "If God isn't moving in the place you're at, then it might be time for you to move on..." I've heard much. People often give advice freely, but one would almost require payment to actually heed it.
So how much "going after" are we to exert on our own accord? At what point are we "moving on" because our memories of egypt seem fonder than the difficulties we face presently?
I personally often wonder what the dreams of the Israelites were like while they were wandering in the desert, being broken. What exactly did they envision the "movement of God" to look like? Now I know they expected a king and a promised land and all that jazz; what did they really want this "movement" to look like? For we know now that they had a pillar of fire and a cloud that moved directly with them. "Their decisions should have been easy." I'm tempted to conclude. How easy for us to see now. But who am I to assume that this "movement" actually looks anything like what I envision. I ask honestly. Why should I get what I want? I know what I want. And I want a lot. But I know all of that doesn't matter.
I want to be a man after the heart of God. A man that waits on the Lord to move. Not a man that moves so the Lord can wait for him.
What makes this choice so difficult is that it seems to tear in either direction. Or maybe I should say any direction I choose, makes a great impact. I understand I'm being quite ambiguous with my descriptions here, and that's for a purpose. I'm not quite at liberty to divulge my entire heart on this blog. I simply want to see to it that my decisions are always thought out, that my wife is with me every step of the way, and that I've prayed over them.

I don't pray enough.

It seems like opportunity and obligation often battle it out in my mind like some sort of cage match with no apparent victor. Maybe each gets K.O.'d near the end of the fight.
I often wish I could go back to training wheels so I can feel the reassuring confidence that my Dad is holding on to the back of my seat as I make my decisions to steer.

I know, I know... "Maybe He wants you to choose this time Josh."

I've been here before.

new roads...

I often sing about seasons and wordy visuals. I often write about colors and lessons I've learned.
When I step back, all the little things that don't make sense to me when I look at them individualistically, come together. They build something. Something grand. And each moment of each day is part of it. I'm learning that when I least understand what is going on is when the Lord knows what is happening. And when I understand, or claim to understand, is when He still knows what is happening. In spite of who I am and how lost I seem to be on the road, He has a plan. His plan not only involves picking up the pieces of my life that I've broken somehow, but it involves restoring them. Each and every fragment of my imaginative confusion that I call a day, is being shaped into something beautiful. Restoration is a beautifully consistent word. Every time it crosses my mind I'm reminded of how I'm being restored through grace.
Two weeks ago Ash and myself pulled up to the curb of our friends house. We were intending to go to the weekly, sunday night meeting with our church group. But, as life often changes, our road didn't end at the curb that evening. In that moment of discussion, Ash needed to talk. I needed to listen. We needed to drive. So we drove. My Kia pulled us down roads that we've never been down. Not only were we conversing over new topics and sharing hearts but we were experiencing newness. New roads. New moments. New us. It was remarkable. Not remarkable like a fantastic sports play, or a shiny new car; but remarkable like a wise word that sinks deep into your mind and grows to maturity. I love those moments. The kind where the bulk of the awe isn't formed by what pieces are at hand, but by the full restorative wholeness that is being built. Faith, love, and hope assembling. I'm coming back to the point where these moments are visible. For a while I lost sight of them. But these moments of grace make sense to me in a way that the setting sun makes sense to the stars. New roads are scary sometimes. But I love them.

something new

Hello everybody. I will be writing all of my new thoughts and entries into this new blog. I had one a while back before I moved out west and liked it quite a bit. And since my wife has started one here, I figured it would be good for me to get some of my thoughts out on here too. People have always told me they've enjoyed reading them. We're gonna go get some food. I will write more later.