MikePaschall.com

Check out THE GATHERING!  It has a new website!

No… really… I caught a hummingbird with my bare hands.  Ms P and I were in the Gvegas Wallyworld perusing for merchandise and groceries.  While sacking up a bunch of moderately unripe bananas, I caught the flash of a green dart in my peripheral.  Like a grown, responsible person, I left my personal goods (cel phone and keys) in a basket, in the middle of the aisle, and went to check out the green dart.  As I rounded the corner, it passed me again and settled on a huge stack of brightly wrapped flour tortillas.   I’m not sure how it got in there, but it was a hummingbird!  The poor thing was continuing to flap it’s wings, but it was evident that it was exhausted, panicked, out of gas and out of it’s element.  My thought:  “Hey, you’ve read about this in Bird N Bloom.  Just catch it, take it outside and let it go free.”  So that is exactly what I did.  The thing never moved.  I, like the stealthy jungle cat hunter I am, crept up from behind, cupped my hands over it, much like trapping a butterfly, and scooped it up.  I was so excited that I left my cart again and began walking all over Walmart looking like I might be cradling a dried cat turd or something.  I needed  Ms P to verify my capture.  To no avail, she was AWOL, so I headed out doors.  There in the parking lot of Sam Walton’s dream-child, I set the captive free.  When I raised the lid of my right hand, the stunned little thing just sat there.  I actually had to toss it airborne to get him going again and off it flew into the wild blue yonder.   Now, I’m fist-pumping and doing the happy dance about a hummingbird’s deliverance.   Then I realized there was a large Hispanic family gawking at my celebration.  A beautiful almond-eyed little girl was giggling at me.  Crazy gringo.  So, I went back inside and resumed my duties.

It was too odd for me to not keep thinking about it.  One of God’s creatures in a spacious environment that is full of food and nourishment, but it can’t really eat because none of the food is packaged or palatable for what it really needs naturally.  I wonder how much of this is true for the Body of Christ?  There actually is stuff in Wallyworld that the little critters can eat, but it has to be prepared.  I feed hummingbirds at my house.  No food coloring, 1/4 part sugar, 3/4 water, put on the stove, brought to a boil, cooled, and served in a hummingbird feeder.  Simple.  This agitated love affair that I have with the institutional church presents about the same dilemma:  (lots of food, lots of potential good, that gathers a lot of hungry people because they’re attracted to the packaging, or the music, or the comfort of the pew, or how the preacher teaches, or… well… just fill in the blanks).  Most churches are full of tired people who are flapping the hell out of their wings trying to get something from God.  Exhausted, hungry, panicked, disoriented people who are starving to death for the real food they need.  Another good sermon?  GIVE ME A FRIKK’N BREAK!  Excuse me while I hurl.  How about the connection with someone, anyone, who really sees them, knows them, feels them and moves toward them in sincere love?  Not because of what they can do or what they give or what they can even add… but, just plain ole valued because someone sees inside their heart.  That’s the food we need.  I’m pretty sure that there are people who show up on Sundays just hoping that someone talks to them.  That’s the food that feeds our soul!  The touch is what heals.

I’m not a church hater.  In fact, I’m quite the opposite.  I love the church… institution and the Body, but we need to figure out why we feed where we feed.  It’s not because He said to.  He didn’t say anything about our going to church.  Tradition, ritual, guilt or denominational affinity isn’t a good reason either.  Bright and shiny packaging doesn’t mean jack-squat!  I know why we do The Gathering in a tightly-packed little basement.  He told Michael and I that it is to be “church”.  An assemblage where love, relationship, fathering, mothering, sonship and daughterhood is all supposed to blend and develop into authentic discipleship.  Just belonging and showing up is not enough by those standards.  It’s got to go deeper than what we’re normally comfortable with.  It requires us to figure out some stuff about ourselves.  It’s messy,  sometimes glorious, often in your face and hopefully affecting your heart and equipping the saints for the work of service.  I’m pretty sure that Michael, Kathy, Patti and I,  have figured out and settled that we’re all in.  The Gathering is our church… our feeder… our home… our place.  We love the fact that a few friends, sons and daughters have decided the same!

-MDP-

It was early… way early… real early.  I was checking emails and catching up on the news when Dad asked if he could read me a poem.  “Hmmmm.”  I thought…  “A poem?  I usually get the stuff out of the Wallstreet Journal or some antic that Perry has done that has him all stirred up.”   Not everyone in Texas is on the Perry bandwagon.  : )   John Greenleaf Whittier was a Quaker, an ardent abolitionist, and one of the most prolific and popular American poets of his time.  Slowing down enough to allow the poet’s craft to softly open us requires some discipline.  I believe the payoff here is worth it.  Hope you enjoy!  -MDP-

My heart was heavy, for its trust had been

Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;

So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,

One summer Sabbath day I strolled among

The green mounds of the village burial-place;

Where, pondering how all human love and hate

Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,

Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,

And cold hands folded over a still heart,

Pass the green threshold of our common grave,

Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart,

Awed for myself, and pitying my race,

Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave,

Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave!

John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)

The move happens this week.  Thanks for your prayers… we appreciate them all!

NEW ADDRESS:    Mike & Patti Paschall – 2209 Karen Lane – Gainesville, GA 30501

-MDP-

I’m on a writing sabbatical for the summer, but this one just kinda showed up.  -mdp-

“If you are slack in the day of distress, your strength is limited.”  Proverbs 24:10, NAS

It’s been a couple of days since the birth of my third grandchild.   Daughter #2 knows how to get‘er done.  Hospital by 7:30am, water broken, Pitocin drip by 8:30am, Epidural at 9:00am, pushing by 12:15pm, crying baby 15 minutes later.  The girl did the same thing with twins on her first go-a-round.  It was like clockwork!  So we do the traditional thing and stand at the thick-glass, watching the nursery aids pull and yank on the new kid for bath time.   All the fingers and toes are in place along with a nice head of dark hair to compliment that beautifully smooth skin.  Most newborns look like miniature, pink, old people.  Our guy is a beauty.  So it’s high fives all around, lots of tears and hugs among the family.  God surely outdid himself this time.  It was quite the show of how our new prince needed to make his entry!  Time to ice the Champagne and toast our little man.  Party on… until she showed up.

“We hear a clicking noise.  We want to keep him in the nursery and have him checked out by one of the specialist.  It could be nothing or it could be a problem.  We need to find out.”  She was uncertain and uncomfortable and we all knew it.  A potential heart issue wasn’t on anyone’s radar.  Every molecule of festive air was sucked out of that room in about 10 seconds.  Fear barged in like he owned the joint!  As quickly as our hearts had leapt when we heard Lewis belch out his first declaration of life, so did our heart sink in that sobering moment.  Grabbing my sobbing daughter’s hand as she shook in her kneeling husband’s chest was almost too much to bear.  All I had, all that any of us had was, “we need to pray!”  I choked out some thing, a few words… not sure what, but it didn’t really matter.  We just needed Him to know that we needed Him.  It wasn’t bold nor grandiose.  Honestly, it was nothing more than the collective groan of our utter distress and fear.

Our story turned out positive.  No issues for our little man and he’s home and doing well.  But, I thought about this passage for a countless number of times in the past 48 hours.  This little incident scared the hell into us.  My family is full of strong and faith-filled warriors, but fear absolutely cold-cocked us for a moment!  Fortunately, we recovered enough to inch closer to Him.  In hindsight, maybe we all should consider the possibility that our prayers, for those who can’t pray for themselves, might be one of the loveliest things that brothers and sisters in Christ do for each other!  People get stuck in pain, stuck in fear and shut down to faith.  I see this differently than I used too.  Religious piousness would make “prayer” or the Bible a fix all to our every problem.  It’s not the ritual we need, but the connection with HIM!  If it’s with prayer… so be it!  So here is the lesson:  flex your strength or someone else’s!  But, do something.  Pray!

-MDP-

Besides the fact that we love what we do, see the world, disciple hungry hearts and watch amazing transformations on a regular basis, every now and then we’ll get a reminder about the real stuff that goes down in TWR community that just makes us smile.  The following was waiting in my email inbox this morning:

Mike,
Last night was freakin sweet.  Karaline, girl who grew up catholic and feels like she really received assurance of salvation this week asked if she could be baptized last night.  We didn’t have anywhere to do it necessarily, but we decided we were going to make it happen.  We found a park on our little map that looked like it had 2 ponds, so the whole squad went there last night at 9pm.  I have never seen somebody so excited to get baptized.  She was giddy and jumping around the whole way there.  She was so excited to share with the squad what God is doing in her life.

So here comes the crazy part.  Besides the fact that we were in a park at about 9:30pm going into a pond that we probably shouldn’t have, it had concrete sides and I have no idea how deep it was.  I had to have Jamos lower me down and hold onto me, and Jeff had to lower Karaline so that I could grab onto her and baptize her.  It was epic.  Most incredible baptism I’ve ever been a part of.  Tomorrow or something I’ll send you pictures.  It was such a huge celebration time for the squad, and the Spirit was just flowing.  It was just awesome!

Thanks for coming down here.  Your presence was huge and it benefited our squad so much.  Love you man!
Bill 

See… you’re smiling… I’m smiling!  For those of you who have our back, pray for us, give us money or send support, thank you for your tangible love!  We feel it every day and it’s not a small thing to us!  Patti and I are so grateful and honored by everything you send our way!  You are crazy good to us! xoxo

-MDP-

24!  That is the number that Patti will blurt out “if” you ask her how many times we have moved in our 34 years of marriage.  After looking for a table to crawl under when the head’s snap towards me with glares that smack of… “What the hell is wrong with you Paschall?  You’ve moved your wife 24 different times?”, I usually shrug my shoulders and murmur under my breath, “mmmmm… take it up with Him jerkwad.  He runs the show.”  I don’t know what else to say.  It is what it is.

I have no regrets about any of those moves.  I do wished I would have bought stock in U Haul way back there, but who knew?  Every move was part of the design for our life.  Only one of those moves seemed to be solely our idea.  The rest involved some kind of job or ministry purpose.  A few were slightly unpopular or tension filled moves, but all-in-all we eventually saw the good in what we  we were doing.  Our kids seriously believe there is gypsy in our bloodline.  We have no argument to refute.

So you know where this is going right?  The long discussion about “the move” to Georgia is over.  Again, we (yes, both of us) know He is in the soup.  With the increase of responsibility and relationship with the ministries of Adventures in Missions, plus the obvious reality that The Gathering is increasing in momentum, it is right that we get planted in Gainesville, GA.  We have worked through the fact that Georgia residency will be 1,400 miles from our kids and grand-babies.  There is no view of Pikes Peak, but the Appalachians are beautiful year-round!  Southern charm is everywhere and a Waffle House is always just a block or two away.  Maybe now IS the time to buy stock in American Airlines because Nana won’t be denied her quarters in a certain basement in Colorado Springs.  That’s all good and dandy, but it’s time to get it on.   So, will all sincerity, we request your thoughts and prayers as we pack our stuff and haul our loot in early August.

Patti and I dearly love the people who have also become “our family” in Georgia.  The way we are loved makes this seem so natural and ordained.  We could have never imagined this next step without such an embrace.  But it is right, very right… so we go!  So long 24!  Hello 25!

“Yes honey, I know that is 1/4 of 100.  No baby, I can’t shove that up there.  Yes honey, we did pray about it.  Yes baby, I know what I’ve put you through.  Yes dear, I still believe Him.  Thanks Babe for going… again.   Yes Honey, I love you too!”

-MDP-

We’ve become so obsessed with the hopeful fruits of our faith that we no longer recognize the value of being in the process of faith.  I think I’m saying what I want to say:  The process of exercising our faith is the righteous part… period!  Not that we get what we want, but the fact that we submit ourselves to the mystery and hope of God’s tangible involvement.  No one get’s everything they ask for… right?  I’m not even convinced that would be good for us.  But, we believe again, trust again, and submit ourselves again to the divine affair while believing that He is good and trustworthy, even though I may be disappointed and unsatisfied in receiving what I exercised faith for.  I seriously doubt any of us would respect a process that reduces faith to a religious formula.  We forget, that like us, He also has a will .  He is not a divine vending machine subject to our coins and selections.

I like Richard Rohr’s take on this topic:  “Our faith is not in words.  Our faith is in a person.  Our faith is in God, who is revealing the divine self to us in Christ and in the lives of the Body of Christ.  The word calls us into a personal dialogue, not a slavish idealization of words, not a rigid love affair with ideas.  That is fundamentalism.  The scriptures call us into a personal struggle like Jacob’s.  He wrestled with the angel of Yahweh (Genesis 32:24-31).  In that personal involvement, in our personal wrestling match with the mystery of God, we come to faith.  Faith is not just another competing ideology.  It is more a process than a conclusion, more a way of relating than a way of explaining, more a wrestling match than a classroom lesson.”   from The Great Themes of Scripture

-MDP-

As I watched another 150+ World Racers lift their hungry hearts and hands to receive a touch of the Spirit for empowerment, I had an ugly thought:  What are we (the church) doing to equip the saints for the work of service?  It was the first time for most of them to remotely consider the possibility that they needed more in hand than a few memorized Bible verses, a few gospel tracts and the Jesus film.  Nothing wrong with any of that, but if that is all you got, your opportunities and methodology has severe limitations.

Would a young man marry the woman of his dreams only to embrace her as friend and wife but ignore the “lover” side of her?  I’m around young men and that is an utterly ridiculous question.  They will not be denied any aspect of their queen… especially that one!  But, it appears to me that too much of the church does this to the Holy Spirit, on a regular basis.  Often we see the third person of the Trinity as just another option on the table, much like the orange jello at the end of a gigantic buffet.  Take it or leave it.  It makes no difference to the overall outcome of the dining experience.  I know, I know, it can’t be ALL Holy Spirit either!  Balance is good and best for the overall mission of the church.   If that is true, we have to have relationship with the person of the Holy Spirit.  It is not balance to count the gifts of the Spirit as taboo, excessive, dried up, for another time, or irrelevant to Christian living.  It feels blasphemous to me that we are so intentional in minimizing the works of the Holy Spirit.

Seeing again, what I saw yesterday, gives me hope!  Another batch of kids who acknowledge Jesus, declare the love of the Father, and ask for the power of the Spirit to bring heaven to earth!  I expect they will.  I know they will.

-MDP-

This is too good not to post.  I’m a big fan of Franciscan Richard Rohr.  This was my meditation for today:

Knowledge of God cannot be proven, processed, reasoned, justified or legitimated.  This God-knowing and God-energy always risks being misunderstood (as God also risks) and risks being misinterpreted (as God puts up with) and even risks being not appreciated (as God also feels).

To live in faith—which is to live with God—one has to risk looking and feeling like nothing—nothing that can be possessed, bargained for, developed, controlled, sold, bought, measured, merited, applauded, or even rightly communicated.  Faith, finally, is beyond the world of power, function and purpose.

I must say it or I would deny the entire history of faith from Abraham to Jesus to Francis of Assisi to our own Donny Flowers and Erwin Wolke:  Faith is beyond any reasonable and objective process that even good people can devise.  There is no community program or structure, no matter how perfect or how much we own it or invest in it that will ever make biblical faith unnecessary.  Faith is faith is faith… and God can only be known by faith (see Romans 3-5).  I wonder why religious people so easily forget that?

Faith is finally to stand in nothingness, with nothing to prove and nothing to protect, knowing itself in an ever-alive charity that urges us to surrender, to let go, to give away, to hand over, to forgive, to walk across, to take no offense, to trust another, to lose oneself—while being quite sure that we are to find ourselves afterwards.

A consumer-oriented, functional and materialistic age finds faith almost impossible.  We want religion, but we surely do not want faith.  Because faith is nothing, the faithful person is a nobody.  In our shallow culture, trust is called naïveté.   Forgiveness always looks like being soft and conceding to the enemy—even speaking the truth will not win you any votes or look patriotic on the evening news.  Faith is nothing in this age and culture.  Faith has always been nothing.   

from “Image and Likeness:  The Restoration of the Divine Image”

Yet, it is the door to all spiritual reality.

-MDP-