Seán – Page 17 – Unsatisfied By Average

Author: Seán (page 17 of 31)

Bloom Anyway!

September 19, 2011 / Seán / 1 Comment

Part of me is not ready for summer to be over.
Not ready to watch the yard change out its summer coat for dusty brown, one blade at a time. Up here we tend to flower beds, fruit trees, and turf 10 months out of the year, so that 2 months can be beautiful– August, and September.

But part of me is ready.
I tip-toed over to Chantée’s rock garden yesterday, as if one false step would chase away the perfect mountain morning. We’re past due for frost, but still rainclouds from a zealous monsoon have kept the heat in every night…
And so in the chill of an almost-October morning at 8,000 feet there were still flowers singing glory amongst the rocks.

Thought I:
Boy, you’d think it was about time for hibernation. Seriously, all this praise will come to a screeching halt in a few days, for frost can’t be all that far away. Be quick and spread seed. The time for blooms is past…

Or is it?

When I tiptoed back away from the garden, little flowers that wordlessly sing hallelujah had taught me another lesson…

Bloom anyway.

Let the frost come! For one last glorious moment color will shine through crystal, and then the flower’s work will be done.
Sing to the finish.

If spring is time for growing, and summer is time for loving, then fall is time for giving.

And that’s the most beautiful thing of all…

Consuming Treasure

September 8, 2011 / Seán / 11 Comments

I sit on black leather watching the day wake up past curtains drawn back on french doors. My thumb in the COL on my lap, my other hand behind my head… Countless yellow flowers sing “September!” in the morning sun’s first glow.

My mind is far away.

I know God gives back. You’ve heard it said He never closes a door without opening a window– Never takes anything away without giving something better in its place.

I know.

But what of the times…

You know what I mean? Sometimes God grants that the fire should burn through our lives, and take away the dross…

And other times God grants that fire should burn through our lives, and completely consume the treasures.

And He doesn’t give them back.

I’ve had my share of fire over the years. And I’ve held on to more than my share of promises.

[The sun creeps across the floor and up the side of my desk; warms the cover of my journal.]

And I’ve probably written miles of ink lines in those books.

But this week, this morning, I’ve learned something.

Something that gives me chills up and down my spine… and makes my blood surge jubilance.

The times when the fire burns through and takes treasures, leaving nothing to hold on to but memories of fire and smoke–

God has still given.

He did give you something better.

He gave you the fire.

My soul tingles.

If I am a soldier, if I am a victor, if I am free…

It is thanks to the treasure of losing everything, and never getting it back.

I sigh and smile.

I am free.

“Blaze, Spirit blaze. Set our hearts on fire…”

The Unthinkable

September 5, 2011 / Seán / 9 Comments

“I am the vine, ye are the branches…”

Metaphor run into the ground. Heard often, preached often, embroidered often on the wall by the bathroom sink.

Just one minute, pilgrim.

Halt your hurried steps long enough to answer just this:

Do you realize what a branch is?

It is the branches that tell whether a tree is alive or dead. It is from the branches that a million leaves open to gather up the sun. It is the branches that turn the used-up air of living organisms back into Oxygen.

It is the branches that hold the fruit…

All the fruit.

A branch that is dry in the height of spring testifies to a tree starkly dead in the midst of bursting life.

Only this Tree, this Vine, can’t die.

If it looks dead, it’s a lie.

The branches are lying.

Tied up there with twine, but disconnected.

But do you wonder that the world looks no further than the fruitless bough and pronounces the Tree unworthy?

“I am the vine, ye are the branches…”

Incomprehensible is the honor of holding the fruit born of His strength and sap.

Unthinkable the dishonor of surrounding Him with fruitlessness.

See. Change. See change.

September 3, 2011 / Seán / 5 Comments

Spent last weekend in the wilderness… One of the most refreshing in my memory.
Since then I’ve stopped only to tumble into bed for what feels like a few fleeting hours before getting on the move again.
But each morning, when my iTunes playlist heralds the coming of day, it seems I’m back in my sleeping bag, miles from nowhere…

And I close my eyes again, but I do not sleep. Instead, I cringe at what I can almost see through my closed eyelids:

An immaculately robed high priest, rubbing his hands as he watches Judas go.
A man in the agony of death, ignored by his sleeping friends.
A kiss, of all things.
Wrists tied hard.
Lawless judges.
Strong man’s shoulders heaving with sobs after he realized he’d done the unthinkable, and cursed his Friend.
Blood drops on Pilate’s portico.
Frenzied, frenzied rage.
Roman rulers with pale faces, and trembling hearts.
Tears running down salty on the face of the Condemned.
Parents screaming curses on their own children… (His blood be upon us…!)
Thorns.
Nails.
The King raised up to die.
His best friend (just a boy!) upholding His mother…

In the tent when I first (at random, I thought) decided to hear out all four perspectives back to back, I didn’t know what I was getting in to…
But I’ve learned why we’re counseled to spend “a thoughtful hour” daily contemplating these themes…

Sin loses its hold after you’ve watched Him die…

Who is My Neighbor?

August 23, 2011 / Seán / 2 Comments

The simple thought struck me profoundly…

I snap the mic back onto the console and turn out my window to see the man that had led us in to his neighbor’s lot, in the back of a beautiful little subdivision in the middle of nowhere.
I’d seen his bumper stickers. They told of a war we were ashamed to own, and his full grey beard and tattered hat told the rest of the story.
But this was his neighbor who was sick…

He’s been waiting for my look. Out my open window he snaps a salute.

I nod.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Be careful now.”
“Yes sir.”

I touch my own forehead and put the ambulance in drive.
Lights glitter red. He watches us go.

And I find myself glad for a chance to drive the 90 minutes it took to get to the scene…
Glad for a chance to serve a community where neighbors lead the ambulance in. (He wasn’t the first.)
Lots of neighbors, lots of places, don’t care.

And I thought of a Samaritan man a long time ago…
And wondered not so much, “Who is my neighbor?”

But rather, “Whose neighbor am I?”

Taste of the Tour

August 17, 2011 / Seán / 4 Comments

Words fail of conveying sufficient depth and gravity.
Clichés like: “I’ll never be the same” apply, but still don’t tell it like it is…

I throb thankfulness while I grope for expressions worthy, and finally conclude-

Our best statements are understatements.

Because once again, our God has outdone Himself, blessing when we went to bless.
How I needed the quiet. How I needed to see the rocks that cried red. How I needed the battle to refocus. How I needed to be broken and healed, raised up out of weakness, charged to fight…
Reminded that I am nothing.
Reminded that “All things work together for good…”

All things.

Thank You Jesus.
Thank you, beautiful friends from all over the continent…

We love you…

Taste of the Tour from Sean Nebblett on Vimeo.

Full Cups and New Friends…

August 11, 2011 / Seán / 8 Comments

I learned today how to make a full cup fuller…
Surround yourself with european friends three tiers high, and talk about war.

Seriously, guys… Why do we have to nearly starve before we’re ready for bread?

friends: three tiers high

sermon notes. (green version)

Marcel manipulating languages

faces

Frank Fournier: fellow “American” and new friend 🙂

This one is for the Fords. 😉

more friends

my pal again. (fun to take pictures of!)

listening

we interrupted a birthday party on outreach. Second from left there got Happy Birthday, and Always Cheerful.

the neighborhood natives lead the way

p.s. you don’t have to speak the same language to be friends…

Outreach!

August 11, 2011 / Seán / 1 Comment

I love it when a group of kids knocks on the door, and after they have finished singing and the owner has selected a Great Controversy (of all things!) from their stash of “free gifts,” they offer to pray for blessings on that house, and the owner crashes in with his own beautiful prayer of blessing for them…

I love it when a simple songs strikes a solid chord because the heart was made soft by a brother’s recent passing…

I love it when the neighborhood kids get excited right along with us, and wait with huge smiles with their scooters and unicycle for us to pick them up each afternoon to sing to he rest of the town.

I love it when those same neighborhood kids tell me all the english phrases they’ve learned in school, while I stretch my poor tongue to make German sounds back, and we all laugh, friends.

It is hard not to love this place.

we set out

that’s my pal there

and his harmonica is a big hit

neighborhood girls

surrounded by friends

(most of whom have names difficult to pronounce)

this is real fun

next door

see my friends with the wheels?

how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news…

Speak, Dear Jesus…

August 9, 2011 / Seán / 2 Comments

Let every word count; every action count.
Speak through our eyes with the language of Heaven when we can’t speak with our tongues the language of this beautiful land.
We love You…
And we love these Your children.