Hey friends (If anyone still reads this! It's been a long time!)
Just a quick note that we'll be posting on our new blog for the next 8 months. Here's the link.
jim & karri's BURUNDI adventure
But never fear, the monkey will live on!!!
Jim
04 September 2008
13 February 2008
It IS My Birthday, and Don't Call Me Shorty
My friend Lee said that 26 was the most depressing birthday he ever had.
The thing is, most people look at 26 as the back side of one's twenties. It's the time when you do a bit of evaluation. It's the time when you start to think about what other people have accomplished by this point in their lives and where you measure up. Have I done everything I wanted to do? Achieved or contributed something? Is it really gonna get any better from here on out? For most people, it's the time where they realize that their answer to most of those questions is no. They haven't done enough, seen enough, risked enough, but heck, I'M 26 NOW! There's no sense in trying to start something now. I might as well already be 30!
I understand the perspective. I really do. The whole quarter-life crisis phenomenon is a familiar static in the background of my life. What if I had started writing music earlier? What if I had majored in something else? What if I had moved to Nashville or New York or somewhere? But I think the gift that God gave me this year, the thing He decided I needed above all other things, is promise.
Funny, it took me a few minutes to decide what word I wanted to use. I typed contentment, hope, satisfaction, self-assurance, optimism, but I think promise makes the most sense. It kinda works on two levels. One, there's a lot of promise in the future for Karri and I. We're excited about travel. We're excited about working for justice in the world. I'm excited about making music and starting a habit of creation. I'm excited about the wide open possibilities we're faced with in the months and years to come. And second, there's a promise that Karri and I rest on every day. And that's the promise that He's with us.
I've been thinking about the Great Commission lately, and how much encouragement that must have given the disciples at that time. I mean, they had pretty much jettisoned their hopes of a world-changing movement when Jesus was crucified. They had given up any hope of being a part of a movement that could change the world. So when the resurrected Jesus called them together and said, "Therefore go," I imagine there was a bit of apprehension. They had given up without Jesus. Given up on the movement, given up on hope, given up on the chance that the world could get better. And now Jesus was leaving, and he wanted them to stick it out. But Jesus closed the call with, "And surely I am with you always." As if to say, "It's alright, guys. Stick your necks out again. Risk away. Pick up those crosses again. I'm not going anywhere. Fear not."
Seems like God spends a lot of time telling people to "Fear Not."
So at 26, I've got some promise. Sure, sometimes I see Kobe Bryant and think, "Why haven't I signed a multi-million dollar contract yet?" But I've got plenty. I've got a beautiful wife who I'm crazy for. I've got a family that loves me. I've got music. I've got a purpose and a calling that will push me into the world. And I've got a rabbi who believes in me and isn't going anywhere. I'll take that as a birthday present.
I got an iPod for Christmas, anyways. (THANKS MOM!!!!!!!!!)
The thing is, most people look at 26 as the back side of one's twenties. It's the time when you do a bit of evaluation. It's the time when you start to think about what other people have accomplished by this point in their lives and where you measure up. Have I done everything I wanted to do? Achieved or contributed something? Is it really gonna get any better from here on out? For most people, it's the time where they realize that their answer to most of those questions is no. They haven't done enough, seen enough, risked enough, but heck, I'M 26 NOW! There's no sense in trying to start something now. I might as well already be 30!
I understand the perspective. I really do. The whole quarter-life crisis phenomenon is a familiar static in the background of my life. What if I had started writing music earlier? What if I had majored in something else? What if I had moved to Nashville or New York or somewhere? But I think the gift that God gave me this year, the thing He decided I needed above all other things, is promise.
Funny, it took me a few minutes to decide what word I wanted to use. I typed contentment, hope, satisfaction, self-assurance, optimism, but I think promise makes the most sense. It kinda works on two levels. One, there's a lot of promise in the future for Karri and I. We're excited about travel. We're excited about working for justice in the world. I'm excited about making music and starting a habit of creation. I'm excited about the wide open possibilities we're faced with in the months and years to come. And second, there's a promise that Karri and I rest on every day. And that's the promise that He's with us.
I've been thinking about the Great Commission lately, and how much encouragement that must have given the disciples at that time. I mean, they had pretty much jettisoned their hopes of a world-changing movement when Jesus was crucified. They had given up any hope of being a part of a movement that could change the world. So when the resurrected Jesus called them together and said, "Therefore go," I imagine there was a bit of apprehension. They had given up without Jesus. Given up on the movement, given up on hope, given up on the chance that the world could get better. And now Jesus was leaving, and he wanted them to stick it out. But Jesus closed the call with, "And surely I am with you always." As if to say, "It's alright, guys. Stick your necks out again. Risk away. Pick up those crosses again. I'm not going anywhere. Fear not."
Seems like God spends a lot of time telling people to "Fear Not."
So at 26, I've got some promise. Sure, sometimes I see Kobe Bryant and think, "Why haven't I signed a multi-million dollar contract yet?" But I've got plenty. I've got a beautiful wife who I'm crazy for. I've got a family that loves me. I've got music. I've got a purpose and a calling that will push me into the world. And I've got a rabbi who believes in me and isn't going anywhere. I'll take that as a birthday present.
I got an iPod for Christmas, anyways. (THANKS MOM!!!!!!!!!)
01 February 2008
There's nothing like writing a blog while listening to great music, or at least, that's what I'm about to find out.
Karri and I are frequenting our favorite coffee shop, Milkboy Coffee BRYN MAWR! (nuts to that one in Ardmore!) We're partaking of this great Philadelphia thing called First Friday. First Friday is happens on the first Friday of every month, and it's kinda like sweeps week on television once a month. All these venues put their best feet... best foots?... forward and have some great talent for the evening. So we're listening to these great singer/songwriters from NYC, and I decided to update you all on the blossoming music career of Jim DeSelm.
I've been playing open mic nights on a fairly regular basis lately here at Milkboy, and Karri and I are starting to find a new quasi-community with the regulars. I'm up to about ten songs or so, and I've performed about seven of them, so I'm well on my way to actually having a catalogue of my own. It's intimidating, being a musician who's built his experience on performing other people's music, and getting up in front of a crowd with your own stuff. It makes a lot more sense when you hear artists talk about how personally they feel about what they create. But I'm really happy with the things I've written as a start. And last Wednesday, the host of the open mic approached me about maybe doing my own gig here soon. So I'm feeling pretty encouraged by that, and of course, by Karri, who's starting to learn the words of my songs.
I've got all these questions about where this music thing should sit in my world, and how much thought and energy should be put into it, and whether those questions are premature in the first place. Some days I've got my album cover all laid out and my bandmates selected and we're all moving to some city together to make our big break, and some days I'm ready to just scrap my notebook and stick to playing other people's stuff. On nights like tonight, listening to some guys who are really good and putting all their eggs into the I'm-a-musician basket, I'm wondering if it's even what I would want if I got there. But more than anything, it just feels good to be connected to music, and contribute to the creativity of the world. I think I'm ok with that right now.
So in the meantime between now and my platinum album, I'm just gonna keep doing my thing here in the canvas chairs at the Bryn Mawr. My behind is actually killing me, cause those canvas chairs really do a number on you after a while. Maybe that'll be my next song. Ode the Coccyxical Chairs. Yep. That's a winner.
Karri and I are frequenting our favorite coffee shop, Milkboy Coffee BRYN MAWR! (nuts to that one in Ardmore!) We're partaking of this great Philadelphia thing called First Friday. First Friday is happens on the first Friday of every month, and it's kinda like sweeps week on television once a month. All these venues put their best feet... best foots?... forward and have some great talent for the evening. So we're listening to these great singer/songwriters from NYC, and I decided to update you all on the blossoming music career of Jim DeSelm.
I've been playing open mic nights on a fairly regular basis lately here at Milkboy, and Karri and I are starting to find a new quasi-community with the regulars. I'm up to about ten songs or so, and I've performed about seven of them, so I'm well on my way to actually having a catalogue of my own. It's intimidating, being a musician who's built his experience on performing other people's music, and getting up in front of a crowd with your own stuff. It makes a lot more sense when you hear artists talk about how personally they feel about what they create. But I'm really happy with the things I've written as a start. And last Wednesday, the host of the open mic approached me about maybe doing my own gig here soon. So I'm feeling pretty encouraged by that, and of course, by Karri, who's starting to learn the words of my songs.
I've got all these questions about where this music thing should sit in my world, and how much thought and energy should be put into it, and whether those questions are premature in the first place. Some days I've got my album cover all laid out and my bandmates selected and we're all moving to some city together to make our big break, and some days I'm ready to just scrap my notebook and stick to playing other people's stuff. On nights like tonight, listening to some guys who are really good and putting all their eggs into the I'm-a-musician basket, I'm wondering if it's even what I would want if I got there. But more than anything, it just feels good to be connected to music, and contribute to the creativity of the world. I think I'm ok with that right now.
So in the meantime between now and my platinum album, I'm just gonna keep doing my thing here in the canvas chairs at the Bryn Mawr. My behind is actually killing me, cause those canvas chairs really do a number on you after a while. Maybe that'll be my next song. Ode the Coccyxical Chairs. Yep. That's a winner.
16 January 2008
What Happens When You Leave An Evangelistic Tract On Your Table Along With Your Tip?
The wait staff stand around and make fun of it and you.
08 January 2008
Now I Have a Title For This Post!
Okay, I wasn't COMPLETELY unproductive in December. I started this post on 12/7, I just didn't finish it. Why? I don't know. I have a tendency to not finish things. It probably comes from my childhood, when I would... oh... right... the post.
So the other day, I got into a conversation with another coworker of mine, and we got to talking about what I did before Karri and I moved to PA. Doesn't seem like such a fascinating conversation. Small talk, right? Except this guy is a homosexual. We've become good friends, and I was fairly surprised that it hadn't come up before. When I told him that I was a pastor, it generated this conversation that went to places I never really imagined.
He asked me if I was Catholic, and what the difference was. I tried to explain, but thought it better to just ask him what he wondered about. We started to talk about the Bible, and he asked the one question I've been asked more than any other about faith. "So, do you actually believe/follow EVERYTHING in the Bible?" Now, I'm pretty sure that whenever someone asks me that question, they've got something primed and ready, waiting for the uninformed "Yes" to bring out their whopping "Well what about that passage in Leviticus about eating poo?!?" or something. But what I've found, and what's been the most valuable thing I can communicate in these conversations, is that Scripture, the text, is a story. And as soon as I start to tell the story, everything changes.
For instance, my friend asked me about the whole homosexuality issue. Instead of firing up some theology or dropping some Paul on him, I decided to tell the story of Lot in Sodom, and how a lot of Christians think that the problem with Sodom was that they wanted to sleep with the two men God sent to warn Lot. But then I shared Ezekiel 16:49, "But these were the sins of your sister Sodom; they were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned, they did not care for the poor and needy." And I tell the story in such a way that all of a sudden, three people are listening. Then four. Then my friend I initially was talking with called a few other people over with an enthusiastic, "I LIKE that story! You've gotta tell it again!" And just like that I'm talking about the Bible with half the wait staff.
And this goes right in line with what I've been learning about the gospel of Christ. It just doesn't take a whole lot for the Good News to be good for most people. All they actually want is for someone to tell them about Jesus, not give them a laundry list of how they can correct their lives. They're used to hearing God talk firmly attached to what they're doing wrong, but right after John 3:16 (you know, the verse about God LOVING the world) there's that verse that says that God didn't come to the world to condemn it, but to save it. And I don't think a lot of people actually know that. God loves you. Has for a long time. And has pursued you like a lover from the moment He created you. And you know what? That's a novel thought for just about everyone I talk to these days.
So tell a good story soon. Bust out the flannel-graph. Talk about Daniel and the Lions' Den. Get your Hosea on. Tell someone just why God put a rainbow up after the flood. (Every thought about that one for a while?) I'm starting to think that when we tell the gospel like a narrative rather than the defense of an ivory tower, we're getting closer to the parable-telling Jesus who hung out with prostitutes and tax collectors. And people will listen. Really. 'Cause who doesn't love a good story?
So the other day, I got into a conversation with another coworker of mine, and we got to talking about what I did before Karri and I moved to PA. Doesn't seem like such a fascinating conversation. Small talk, right? Except this guy is a homosexual. We've become good friends, and I was fairly surprised that it hadn't come up before. When I told him that I was a pastor, it generated this conversation that went to places I never really imagined.
He asked me if I was Catholic, and what the difference was. I tried to explain, but thought it better to just ask him what he wondered about. We started to talk about the Bible, and he asked the one question I've been asked more than any other about faith. "So, do you actually believe/follow EVERYTHING in the Bible?" Now, I'm pretty sure that whenever someone asks me that question, they've got something primed and ready, waiting for the uninformed "Yes" to bring out their whopping "Well what about that passage in Leviticus about eating poo?!?" or something. But what I've found, and what's been the most valuable thing I can communicate in these conversations, is that Scripture, the text, is a story. And as soon as I start to tell the story, everything changes.
For instance, my friend asked me about the whole homosexuality issue. Instead of firing up some theology or dropping some Paul on him, I decided to tell the story of Lot in Sodom, and how a lot of Christians think that the problem with Sodom was that they wanted to sleep with the two men God sent to warn Lot. But then I shared Ezekiel 16:49, "But these were the sins of your sister Sodom; they were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned, they did not care for the poor and needy." And I tell the story in such a way that all of a sudden, three people are listening. Then four. Then my friend I initially was talking with called a few other people over with an enthusiastic, "I LIKE that story! You've gotta tell it again!" And just like that I'm talking about the Bible with half the wait staff.
And this goes right in line with what I've been learning about the gospel of Christ. It just doesn't take a whole lot for the Good News to be good for most people. All they actually want is for someone to tell them about Jesus, not give them a laundry list of how they can correct their lives. They're used to hearing God talk firmly attached to what they're doing wrong, but right after John 3:16 (you know, the verse about God LOVING the world) there's that verse that says that God didn't come to the world to condemn it, but to save it. And I don't think a lot of people actually know that. God loves you. Has for a long time. And has pursued you like a lover from the moment He created you. And you know what? That's a novel thought for just about everyone I talk to these days.
So tell a good story soon. Bust out the flannel-graph. Talk about Daniel and the Lions' Den. Get your Hosea on. Tell someone just why God put a rainbow up after the flood. (Every thought about that one for a while?) I'm starting to think that when we tell the gospel like a narrative rather than the defense of an ivory tower, we're getting closer to the parable-telling Jesus who hung out with prostitutes and tax collectors. And people will listen. Really. 'Cause who doesn't love a good story?
02 January 2008
Whoops... Sorry, December
So, I didn't blog in December. heheh. Thanks to my brother for giving me crap about it, too. But here it is, the new year, and it's time for some BLOGGIN'!
I'm actually sitting in the middle of Milk Boy Coffee, our favorite coffee haunt, waiting to go up for my first ever open mic night. Reason number fifty billion why I love my wife? She kicks me in the booty until I get out and play for other people. So here I am, doing my "I'm a singer/songwriter" thing. And i've been writing a bit more, so it's starting to actually feel like the truth, slowly but surely. It's a good feeling.
And being here, in a room full of artists, I'm starting to think about this conversation I had with Nate about where art fits into the life of Christ follower. There's this tension that we were discussing about dedicating time and energy to creation. Lots of time and energy. Perhaps the majority of your time and energy. And the there's the voice, or voices, that call you to right and true things, beautiful things, but things that would demand some of that time and energy you've dedicated to creation. So what wins? Committing to your neighbor who needs their place painted or band practice? And that seems to most Christ-followers, me included, to be a no-brainer. It's right to give yourself sacrificially, and if you're not involved in that kind of giving, then you're missing out in something fulfilling and central to following Jesus. Nate and I have a lot of friends who are involved in that kind of sacrificial life, and they call us to it, through words and actions. The tension comes when we're forced to choose between creation and serving.
Now don't get me wrong. They're not mutually exclusive, creation and serving. There should be a lot of both in everyone's lives. But I'm reminded of the Levites from Israel. When Israel was first figuring out who it was going to be, God made special provisions for the Levites. Among their many responsibilities, Levites were the artists of the community, and God made sure to set these people aside so they could be dedicated to the purposes of creation for the glory of God. And I think there's still a special place for artists in the community of Christ. When we are creative, we're tapping into the heart of the Creator God.
I don't know about you guys, but I'm glad there are people who dedicate themselves to creation. There's music and art and photography and poetry and literature and all sorts of expressions that bring me joy, make me mad, and bring me closer to Jesus. And I want those people to keep doing what they're doing. And if it means that that they choose band practice over a service project, I guess I'm ok with that. And even as I write that, I'm thinking, "But you've gotta remember to... Everyone's got a part to play... Make sure that you don't..." but you know what? I want Nate make music and art. So I'm gonna leave it at that.
Nate, if you don't keep creating, I'm gonna punch you in the teeth.
I'm actually sitting in the middle of Milk Boy Coffee, our favorite coffee haunt, waiting to go up for my first ever open mic night. Reason number fifty billion why I love my wife? She kicks me in the booty until I get out and play for other people. So here I am, doing my "I'm a singer/songwriter" thing. And i've been writing a bit more, so it's starting to actually feel like the truth, slowly but surely. It's a good feeling.
And being here, in a room full of artists, I'm starting to think about this conversation I had with Nate about where art fits into the life of Christ follower. There's this tension that we were discussing about dedicating time and energy to creation. Lots of time and energy. Perhaps the majority of your time and energy. And the there's the voice, or voices, that call you to right and true things, beautiful things, but things that would demand some of that time and energy you've dedicated to creation. So what wins? Committing to your neighbor who needs their place painted or band practice? And that seems to most Christ-followers, me included, to be a no-brainer. It's right to give yourself sacrificially, and if you're not involved in that kind of giving, then you're missing out in something fulfilling and central to following Jesus. Nate and I have a lot of friends who are involved in that kind of sacrificial life, and they call us to it, through words and actions. The tension comes when we're forced to choose between creation and serving.
Now don't get me wrong. They're not mutually exclusive, creation and serving. There should be a lot of both in everyone's lives. But I'm reminded of the Levites from Israel. When Israel was first figuring out who it was going to be, God made special provisions for the Levites. Among their many responsibilities, Levites were the artists of the community, and God made sure to set these people aside so they could be dedicated to the purposes of creation for the glory of God. And I think there's still a special place for artists in the community of Christ. When we are creative, we're tapping into the heart of the Creator God.
I don't know about you guys, but I'm glad there are people who dedicate themselves to creation. There's music and art and photography and poetry and literature and all sorts of expressions that bring me joy, make me mad, and bring me closer to Jesus. And I want those people to keep doing what they're doing. And if it means that that they choose band practice over a service project, I guess I'm ok with that. And even as I write that, I'm thinking, "But you've gotta remember to... Everyone's got a part to play... Make sure that you don't..." but you know what? I want Nate make music and art. So I'm gonna leave it at that.
Nate, if you don't keep creating, I'm gonna punch you in the teeth.
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