Jeremiah Caleb

“So get rid of all malicious behavior and deceit. Don’t just pretend to be good! Be done with hypocrisy and jealousy and backstabbing. You must crave pure spiritual milk so that you can grow into the fullness of your salvation. Cry out for this nourishment as a baby cries for milk, now that you have had a taste of the Lord’s kindness.”- 1 Peter 2:1-3

I Love my Caffeine! During my college days in Bristol Tennessee, I spent many nights at a local coffee house “Java J” for the best coffee ever. My cup of coffee made to perfection would provide me with the warm comfort and satisfaction I needed to get through the night. I’d sit at a corner table sipping these warm sensations with my lap top and the middle English text of Milton’s “Paradise Lost” in front of me weather I was in a mood for it or not. When I got to the meaty part of the text which gave me an idea for my next research paper, I would forget about the coffee for a few moments. After scribbling a few notes, I’d pick up my cup of half full coffee again. The taste is pleasant just as it was before I put down the cup. Noticing that the bottom seems thicker, I’d stir the coffee before sipping the left over. Only in stirring it I discover my cup of warm comfort which seemed perfect a second ago, is now bitter.

On the rare occasion that I did not have to stay up late to write papers, I would order a hot cup of chocolate instead and curl up on one of the couches with a juicy novel. When I got to the intense climax of the novel, I would forget about the cup of hot chocolate for a moment as I devour the story. With a gasp of rapture, I’d pick up my half full cup again. The taste is pleasant just as it was before I put down the cup. Noticing that the bottom seems thicker, I’d stir the contents before sipping the left over. In stirring my cup, the thick chocolate rises and richens my drink, making my last few sips more intense and satisfying, leaving me with a warm tingling feeling. Now that I have indulged in the best cup of chocolate, I can’t settle for the instant coco you find at the grocery store.

Our character is very much like my cup of “Java J”. We can present the perfect drink with our smiles and pleasant comments. However, what happens when our character is challenged? When conflicts and relationships stir our lives, what will emerge from the bottom of our cups? Will it be the bitter flavor of malicious behavior and deceit or will it be the rich creamy goodness of love and spiritual comfort?

When we become new creatures in Christ, we are transformed from within. Time and time again Jesus condemned the Pharisees for their outward act of righteousness, while their hearts were filled with hypocrisy and deceit. He teaches us to be cleansed from deep within. In Mark 8:20-23 Jesus says, “For from within, out of a person’s heart come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, wickedness, deceit… All these vile things come from within; they are what defile you and make you unacceptable to God.”

Jesus longs for us to see his righteousness and carve his goodness the way we crave for satisfaction in our lives. We are called to seek his glory with spiritual desperation as a baby cries out for spiritual milk. We are called to pray as David in Psalm 86- “Teach me your ways, O Lord, that I may live according to your truth! Grant me purity of heart that I may honor you.” As we long after Him, He renews our minds and our attitudes so that when our cups are stirred up, we will rise up in honest, rich and healthy “Java J” of the Lord’s kindness.

One of my most significant periods during my years in New York City was that of the FAT Kids. It all began when I opened up my Manhattan apartment in Hamilton Heights every week to artists and college students for fellowship, and worship. As we began to shed our masks it soon became obvious this was the birth of something rather inexpressible. Perhaps it was due to the fact that most of us were young starving artists in Manhattan who found common ground, or perhaps it was just because this group of broken dreamers discovered that they could find true strength and acceptance from intimate community.

Over the next five years we called ourselves the FAT Kids which stood for FAITHFUL, AVAILABLE and TEACHABLE. Every week we huddled into my small living room and shared a meal together. Then we would sing with the guitar, study the Bible, wrestle some of life’s difficult questions and pray together. We shared our struggles, our darkest secrets, our fears, and somehow our stories became intertwined with one another. Outside of those weekly gatherings we played together, dancing, smoking hooka, and celebrating our youth into the early hours of the morning.

We witnessed many milestones together. It was the FAT Kids who surrounded me in comforted when I had experienced a broken heart. It was them who made a way for me to go to India for the first time, not realizing how that journey was about to single handedly change the course of my life…

I had a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that all things, even the FAT Kids was to come to an end. One by one some of them married, moved away, or embraced newer callings. And in the winter of 2008, it was with a sense of sadness and failure that I brought an end to the Fat Kids era. However when a group of people have shared such an intimate part of their lives together it is impossible to truly detach from one another.

Last month, two former FAT Kids gave us reason to reunite. Melissa and Zach first met at my apartment a few years ago. A beautiful friendship blossomed among them and love was soon in the air. It brought my heart so much joy to witness their wedding in Chicago on July 17^th as I joined the FAT Kids who had flown in with their spouses to lead worship at the ceremony. Like old times, we raised our voices together and I felt the hairs on my arm rise to the occasion.

That weekend, I got a small taste of what heaven must be like. There were numerous stories, and meaningful words of encouragement and inspiration. The wine flowed and the laughter rang through the air. For the first time in a long time, I did not have to worry about my image or what people thought of me. I was free, dancing with all my might as the sweat soaked my best clothing. I can’t remember the last time I was literally drunk from so much joy. At one point, the bride looked at us and said, “You guys! My heart…” She clutched her chest unable to find the words. I could not have said it better.

As I flew home from Melissa and Zach’s wedding, I pondered where I had come in my journey. Had I really forgotten what it meant to be truly free? I had set out to play a part in saving the world and somehow I had gotten wrapped up in deadlines, fretting over money for my orphan siblings, jobs to sustain myself, marriage plans, ministry events, my career path- the list goes on… The FAT Kids reminded me of the liberated man I once was.

As I thought back on the last 5 years, I kept coming back to a verse in Ecclesiastes, “In His time, He makes all things beautiful.” In the following weeks, I have come face to face with more challenges that test my faith and my joy. I now cling to those words and the memory of my giddy state with the FAT Kids in Chicago.

Viral Hope- Good News from the Urbs to the Burbs

My Review

I recently joined my community in reading the newly published Viral Hope edited by J.R Woodward. It’s collection of writers includes my own gifted roommate and several of my friends whom I consider heroes of the 21^st century. I have a feeling that this is one book which we will be able to look back on in ten years to see it’s clear depiction of our time and the hopes of our generation.

Viral Hope is a collection of blogs, and soul journals by writers and leaders from all over the country. In a time of social struggle and self-centeredness, this book draws us towards an outward focus to see messages of promise that await a world that seems to be loosing a sense of hope.

From one pastor’s account of his attempt to make a difference in the life of a homeless man, to contemporary philosophies of the present day church, this book will raise provoking topics for discussion over a 40 day journey.

The clear stories and simple theology do a great job in depicting sections of an ultimate story. It reminds us that not only are these our stories, but that we each have a significant part to play in the big story. Viral Hope invites to be a part of the rapidly spreading good news.

You can access more information about Viral Hope, or how to access your own copy on;

www.amazon.com

http://jrwoodward.net/my-writings

For months I have heard of my roommate’s adventures and labor of love in Mexico. My turn to share in a small piece of this mission finally came this month. The two of us packed his Jetta with supplies and hit the open road early one Thursday morning. By early afternoon, we were driving past the boarder and I was thankful to turn off my phone for the weekend and tune out my otherwise busy lifestyle.

On first impression, Mexico was nothing like I had envisioned. I was expecting bare dirt lands and lots of similar looking architecture. Instead I was met with beauty beyond my expectation. Typically when Dustin and I travel together on a road trip, there is plenty of conversation and music. This time, our mutual respect for the scenic wonder caused us to silently take in the sights all around us. We drove along the coastline and through the rich rolling mountains, bathed in the golden hue of the afternoon light. We even turned off the CD player in the car for fear that any other distraction would only ruin the peaceful solitude of our journey. Nothing needed to be said. Everything was simply felt…

We made a brief stop in Ensenada for some delicious fish tacos and continued our journey amidst the wide open fields of tall grass gently rustling in the breeze to the small town of San Jacinto. “There she is!” Dustin said as the Ecodome came into sight in the distance. She stood strong and rising with hope of her impending completion. This was the much talked about Eben Ezer, a symbol of a vision, lots of hard work, and the promise of something bigger that just a home.

This vision found its foundation only last summer when Dustin and his fellow Engineering friend drove for miles in Mexico searching for a need and an opportunity to use their skills to make a difference. After miles of driving the answer came in the form of a young newly wed couple, Jose Luis and Angela who lived in a trailer outside a house build for destitute elderly men with no families who came here to live out their last days. Here in the middle of nowhere, these grandpas were offered love and care far from the chaos of the city life. The young engineers saw their opportunity to lay their first “stone of help” in faith. An eco friendly house using natural resources of Mexican clay was designed and the foundations were laid so that Jose Luis and his bride could have a proper home to live in as they serve the grandpas.

Over the last year Dustin has made several trips to this desolate land surrounded by mountains and fields to labor over this sanctuary in love. Many friends have had the opportunity to join him on some of these trips, pitch tents on these serene grounds, and lend their bare helping hands to making this dream a reality. Now as I got out of the car to a very excited Jose Luis, some smiling grandpas and a welcoming dog, I saw the fruit of my humble and faithful friend’s work and relentless dedication. I was inspired!

I felt honored to dirty my hands that weekend feeling like a new man at the chance to work, be free of outside distractions, and have a tiny part in something so humbling and yet so significant. It was liberating to say the least and I took in every minute with joy. In just a couple of days, I experienced some of the stories of these men who were once as strong and capable as me, not to mention the stories of a couple of men from the rehabilitation center close by who were courageously turning their lives around and conquering addiction.

The only way to truly understand the Eben Ezer Ecodome project is to play a part in it, weather it be volunteering for a few days with some old fashion manual labor, or enabling this work of faith with financial support. I came back to LA feeling refreshed and renewed.

Support the Eben Ezer Project

Contact: Dustin James

dustinfjames@gmail.com

http://dustinfjames.wordpress.com/

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out
in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom
of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.

-Jack London’s “Credo”

I was at breakfast with my producer friend in Santa Monica when he shared this quote with me. From my table, I had a grand view of the ocean where my mind is always at ease to reflect. “How true!” I thought.

As I approach 30, I am extra conscious that life is too short to simply sit by and watch it slip away. I was filled with a renewed desire to work hard, celebrate, love, and give of myself as if each day is my last. I am challenged to be bold and daring with my choices…

April 7^th- Dustin and I took the leftovers from Easter brunch, purchased some coffee and juice, and set up at the entrance of the UCLA campus. With smiles and optimism, we began at 8AM to hand out free breakfast to focused college students.

Had this been New York City, I am certain the food would have vanished fast as grateful and broke New York students would have gladly accepted them. Here in Westwood, we were met instead with a more wealthy class of students and a little bit of skepticism. Most of them assumed there was a catch to this handout. Many refused and walked by. Some stopped to ask why we were doing this. “Just want to spread the love”, I said in my hippie fashion.

“More good news for your week”, Dustin threw in. How Brilliant! This was indeed god news. It was just a matter of weather one wanted to accept it. Everything went by so incredibly slowly for awhile. At one point, a group of immigrant workers came by to clean the street. When Dustin offered them our good news, their faces lit up and they received with gladness. This was indeed good news for them!

We finally packed up the leftover bagels and coffee and drove around Westwood village to hand them out to our homeless friends whom we found scattered on different corners. With a new spark of energy, we offered them our good news. An older gentleman offered us a dollar for the coffee. I was humbled that of all people, the homeless veteran was the one to offer us something in return.

We put names to the faces of our homeless friends as we shared breakfast with them. It seemed so simple and yet somehow profound. I finally felt like I was getting a glimpse of the Kingdom in Westwood and my heart began to bubble with joy. As Dustin said, “This is ground breaking!”

One week ago today, I was woken up at midnight in India by a knock on my door. Three of my dear boys stood there with hand made cards and it was only then that I remembered that it was my 29^th birthday. They had stayed up just so that they could be the first to greet me. I hugged them and sent them to bed quite touched. I tried to go back to sleep but for the longest time, all I could think of was the long list I had made in college listing the things I wanted to accomplish and in doing so, change the world by the time I was 30. I could not help but be a little disappointed that time was running out.

Then at 6AM, there was another knock on my door. This time I was asked to come downstairs. I threw on my shirt and made my way down to the garden of the Asha Deep Foundation orphanage. And there they were- all 100 of my orphan siblings waiting for me in a large circle. I felt myself choke up as they sang the Indian version of “Happy Birthday” and young Reshma stepped out to pray for me. Then I was bombarded with the most creative, hand made birthday cards, flowers, leaves, and weeds that the children had plucked to make into bouquets. I just stood there speechless with my arms fool of cards and plants.

“Now it is time for birthday bumping”, one of the boys called out.

“A what?” I replied a little worried. Little Akbar came up and grabbed all the cards from my arms. “Oh my God! What is a birthday bumping?” I cried.

There was no verbal explanation. Instead the older boys hoisted me on their shoulders laid flat. Then they proceeded to toss me in the air 29 times! I felt my pants slipping down. There was nothing to do except surrender to the “bumping”. By this point I was fully woken up!

I spent the rest of the day with my beloved siblings as they treated me like a prince. They offered me their hearts and that was priceless. That night as I stood with my team on the rooftop taking in the full moon and the sounds of the slums, I thought once more of my list. I didn’t think I had come close to accomplishing those big dreams or changing the world, but at that moment, I felt richer that a king. When I look at my life as a 29 year old, I define it by the hearts and songs of a hundred orphan siblings in the slums of India.

Why does the average person my age connect to TV shows like “Friends”, and “Sex and the City”? I suppose it is because deep down we each desire for a deeper heart connection. After all, the average person who moves to a city like New York and Los Angeles leaves their hometown, their family and the life he or she was accustomed to chase their dream or fortune. There is noting like waking up one morning in a strange city no matter how awesome it is, and feel completely alone.

Then there is the first time you go home to visit family and friends and realize that the life you were once a part of is no longer home. You discover that somewhere along the road, your new city life became your home and your destiny. No one can understand this sense of belonging except someone who also made the same transition to the city. You begin to long for a new family of sort, one who is on the same journey as you are, who also understand the joys and struggles of the city.

New York City had been such a place for me. I left everything I knew to pursue my dream. And while I was still chasing that dream, I fell in love with the city, the people, and my life there no matter how difficult it sometimes got. It became my home and I could not imagine loving any place more. Because this was a place I had come to on my own as a bachelor. I wanted to become a part of the city and the community.

It wasn’t until a few years of struggling to find my place in New York, that I discovered that I was living the ideal life people dream of when they watch those TV shows. I had found the deep heart connection that nourished me and kept me content and inspired. It came in the form of three incredible friends.

Together, we were two single men, and two single women in our 20s and 30s from different walks of life enjoying the company of each other in a lonely city. We called ourselves the platonic four. Yes, we never dated one another…. We have experienced awkwardness, disagreements, comfort, support, and hysterical laughter, all adding to the perfect friendship. Together, we enjoyed New York City to the max- Adventures in the rain and snow, late night movies, the best burgers in Brooklyn, lazy Sunday afternoons in Central Park, pitchers of sangria over warm conversation, coffee at French Roast, and drinks served by our usual waitress Annelies at Kravas, our favorite bar in Grenwich Village, are just snapshots of what we shared together. They were the ones I went to when my heart was too heavy to describe in words. We understood one another even in the silence.

Saying goodbye to them as I packed up and prepared to move to LA was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I was convinced that things would change, and that the intimacy I shared with them would be lost. I could not have been more wrong. In fact it is quite the opposite. While, we have all changed in the 10 months since I left New York, we have never felt closer. I am forever grateful for the random morning banters over e-mail and the deep and honest stories we are able to share with one another. As we pray and share, we grow deeper in our love for one another. Scott, Kim, and Ashley remain three of the most eligible and inspiring individuals in Manhattan.

Upon every return to New York for a weekend trip of meetings and planning, my time with them is religiously set aside. We come together as if no time has gone by. Their unwavering support makes me feel like a success, their love and acts of sacrifice for me remind me that I am rich when I have them to share my journey with.

When you go through deep waters

and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of

difficulty, you will not drown! ”

- Isaiah 43: 2

Tuesday mornings have become one of my favorite weekly rituals in LA. My roommate and I rise at 6.30AM, fill our travel mugs with hot coffee and drive to Santa Monica to meet our buddies. The surf boards and wet suits are loaded onto Andy’s truck and we all head to the beach to greet the waves.

For awhile, I would merely watch my LA brothers charge into the ocean before beginning my run along the shore. I longed to get into the ocean like them but the truth is that I had forgotten how to swim! About 11 years ago, I had a near death experience on a white water rafting expedition with my youth group in the South. I never went back into the river or ocean since. It has been a fear I have wanted so desperately to overcome. After all, 2009 had been a year of risk taking for me.

So on the last Tuesday of 2009, I decided that I was going to get back into the water. With the encouragement of my friends, I slid into a wet suit. The waves were particularly rough that morning. It seemed I had picked the worst morning to overcome my fear! However, as we approached the sea, I knew there was no turning back. There was nothing left to do but to jump right in. I charged into the water with the men, feeling the cold salt water refresh my skin and wake me up.

I stayed in the shallow water for a few minutes daring to go further an inch at a time. Dustin crept up beside me. “Take my hand” he said. My roommate has been by my side through some major life accomplishments this year. I took his hand and went deeper into the ocean. A huge wave came crashing down and engulfing me. With the firm grip of Dustin’s hand, I felt brave, knowing that eventually I would rise up again.

It was one of those moments when I realized just how small I was in the midst of God’s great creation. Like the roller coaster ride a month ago, this was another metaphor for my journey. Sometimes I feel lost in my struggles and challenges that come crashing down over my life. And in the middle of it, I know I will not drown because God holds my hand even when I can no longer see clearly. Eventually, I rise above the dark waters triumphant and refreshed.

Next, Dustin taught me how to ride the waves on my belly with a small yellow boogie board. I felt like I had discovered joy itself as I jumped on and flew like a dolphin with the waves, feeling the cold water in my hair and the wind on my face. Andy would appear ever so often riding the wave with words of encouragement and support. His wife Kim was at the shore cheering me on. I felt like a child who had just learned to walk. What a way to end the year!

I have been back twice since then to dare the waves. Each time I am more determined to learn, and each time I leave the beach feeling ready to conquer anything that is thrown at me. I will not be defeated by fear anymore!

As I approach the final year of my 20s, I feel the urgency to be bold in doing the things I have never ventured to try before. An opportunity presented itself to me last weekend when I agreed to take a day trip with my new friends from Westwood to Magic Mountain. I was told that we were in for an afternoon of roller coasters. Now, I had never set foot on a roller coaster in my life! Apart from the fear of heights, I did not particularly care for being jerked around several feet off the ground with my feet dangling in the air.

However, apart for wanting to conquer this fear before I hit 30, I had a special reason for wanting to try this- my fiancé Angel. She lives for daring adventures such as these. Angel draws her thrills from bungee jumping, frolicking with wild animals, and being thrust into the forces of nature and risk taking expeditions. In fact this passion is one of the things I love most about her. I wanted to be one of those husbands that supports my wife and holds her hand as we embark on these adventures together.

So with the support of my roommate and friends, I made it to Six Flags. I would be lying if I said that my heart beat did not quicken at the sight of the winding rides as we drove into the mountains. There was definitely cold sweat on my brow at the sound of screams and the rumbling of roller coasters. I felt weak in the knees after my first ride which was supposedly mild. It was the Superman ride that started at 100 miles per hour soaring into the sky. I had gripped my mouth shut and shut my eyes through half of it.

I thought that my friends would ease me into it but I was clearly wrong! Our second ride was said to be the newest and scariest of them all. Just the name, X2, scared the crap out of me. With the moral support of my friends, I climbed into the seat beside my roommate Dustin. We began moving backwards up the steep slope where I saw one of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen! The setting sun shone beams of gold over the mountains stretching endlessly. I gasped in awe. There was a click before our car dropped straight down and began spinning upside down with drastic falls and swings. I forced my eyes open releasing my terror in my voice and finding freedom in it with Dustin yelling and giggling in pure enjoyment beside me. The cold wind beat against my face and I went from fear and shock to invigoration flying through the air in intense speed.

I could not help but think that this was a metaphor for my life! For one, I was beside my roommate, a man I have come to love and respect deeply for his solid walk of life. I had moved to Westwood to invest in this community and students of UCLA with him, though initially unsure of what awaited us. Now I felt braver because he was on this ride beside me. Here we were facing the adventure together with a leap of faith. It was a jerky ride that seemed to rock our world but without it, we would not have the joy of experiencing the heights of excitement, the beauty from those heights, or the thrill that surged through our souls.

We finally came to a halt and I dismounted the roller coaster feeling dizzy but so completely empowered. We rode 5 more roller coasters after that, and with each one, I got braver. By the last ride, I was finally able to thrust my arms in the air spinning and flying through the dark night. I am not saying that I would rush back to Magic Mountains next week! I mean I might need a little break after this. I did however walk away feeling I had conquered something. With my friends cheering me on, we exited the amusement park to drive home. I thought to myself, “Angel, bring it on my love!” I can only imagine the thrill of the adventures that are yet to come!