My Friend, the Oriole

This year, I'm taking a stab at gardening, hoping that I might have inherited my Granddaddy's green thumb along with his name. (I'm Paul Davis Butterworth. He was Davis Head.) It's an experiment, really. I'm hoping to learn some lessons on agriculture from my tomatoes and peppers in hopes that it will lead to a really rockin' pumpkin patch.

I have a friend who has joined me in my gardening. Every time I water the plants, an oriole flies down to the freshly soaked ground and starts pecking for worms. At first, I was worried that the oriole might do some harm to my plants or might take away too many worms.

I was struck recently by the faith that this oriole has. He's not afraid to follow in my footsteps and search for his provision. How much more so should I, not be afraid to call out to my Father God, knowing that he loves me and will provide for me. His provision is not an afterthought, either. It's intentional and providential. My friend, the oriole, is teaching me to pray.

“And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Pray then like this:

“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ... Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (Matt. 6:7-13, 25-26, 31-33)

The City Is Alive

I've spent another silent month on Blogger. So much has changed in my life over that time, so many thoughts have been thought, so many SNL clips have been watched on Hulu. Blogging was meant for these things. Sigh. I'll try to catch up on all of the above, but not tonight.

Anyway, 700,000 people packed the Louisville Waterfront for Thunder Over Louisville, today, thus beginning the Kentucky Derby Festival. Due to work and other mitigating circumstances, I decided to pass on North America's largest fireworks show in favor of watching the UFC 97 pay-per-view at a friends house. My dear brother Nathan Ivey gave me a ride and the conversation there and back again gave me some incredible points to ponder. Traffic was pretty heavy, still, when we returned to the neighborhood where my car was parked, so I volunteered to go ahead and walk the remaining two blocks rather than make Nathan go through the trouble needed to finish the chauffeuring.

Walking down Baxter Avenue, home to Louisville's leading Irish Pubs (save the Rover), I was overwhelmed with a sensation I had not felt since in Thailand in 2006. I could feel the electricity of the city, feel it's vibrancy. The sidewalks and bars swarmed with people, the streets buzzed with taxis and motorcycles. In that moment, I thought about the confluence of desire and expectation that was represented here: joy, excitement, lust, drunkenness, excess. I was reminded how much my city has to offer, and how badly my city needs the Gospel. It was a great finish to a great evening. Awesome.

Why Should Our Hearts Not Dance?

It's been a good day, a marked difference from last Sunday. This Sunday, I took explicit care to make the afternoon restful. Sunday is not the Sabbath, but God calls his people to Sabbath rest, which was part of the focus of Daniel's sermon today.

The day is winding to a close. For the first time in months, I don't have to work at Starbucks at 7:00 am tomorrow morning. I think I'm going to tackle the last 100 pages of Dorothy Sayers' delightful Unnatural Death, but even as I move to relax for the evening, a quote from one of my more recent reads is bouncing around our head. I've written it hear recently (I believe) but it is worthy of a repeat.

In Till We Have Faces Psyche and Orual are on opposite sides of the duel between belief and unbelief. In the face of Orual's bitter rejection of the Divine, Psyche, seeing with the eyes of faith, asks instead, "Why should our hearts not dance?"

I don't see any reason why they should not.

Football Day

One of my goals for this blog is to write a bit about soccer, a sport I have come to love deeply since my summer in Thailand, 2006. I even blogged about it in a little scetion called "The World Cup Check." As we get closer and closer to World Cup 2010 South Africa, I will guide you, loyal reader, through the challenges facing our "Stars and Stripes" as they seek qualification through the CONCACAAF "Hexagonal" tournament & flex their muscles against the best of the world in the FIFA Confederations Cup. USA Soccer is off to a great start for the year, (2-0 spanking of Mexico!), and on April 1, they will face Trinidad & Tobago in Nashville. Road trip, anyone? That Mexico victory has propelled us to #17 on the FIFA/Coca-Cola World Rankings. Not bad.

Today really is football day, as my beloved Manchester United takes on Inter Milan in the second leg of their Champions League tie. When it comes to soccer, though, few names turn heads (especially female heads) like David Beckham. He is one of my soccer idols and seeing him play is a memory I will always cherish. There's been no little controversy around him lately so by all means, let's hear from the man himself.

Ouch

Ensued

This past week has brought so much. I watched last Tuesday night as rain fell softly on top of fresh snow drenching tree branches and drenching power lines. The rain froze to ice that night, ripping the branches down into the already overloaded lines. It was the worst black out since, well, six months ago, when the remnants of Hurricane Ike battered my city with wind, ripping tree branches down into power lines. Many neighborhoods in Louisville feature beautiful houses alongside beautiful trees. Six hundred thousand were left in the dark and cold.

I was blessed in that my apartment didn't lose power, save a quick brown out. The biggest impact to my life came in the transformation of my last week of work for Boyce. Rather than spend those last few days finishing up tasks around the office, I got to watch the new leadership structure rise to the occasion and help the student body in what is surely the greatest disaster Louisville has faced since the tornados of the 1970s. I am glad leave things in their hands and have been reassured that things will be just fine without me. Different, sure, but that's okay.

Nevertheless, all this transition has definitely left me with much to reflect on. Sadly, I've found myself "listening to myself" rather than "talking to myself," to use Lloyd-Jones analogy. In other words, there is what I feel and there is what is real. Reality is defined by Christ and his testimony in Scripture. Christ tells me that he is my shepherd, that he will provide for me, that the righteous are not forsaken and that their children do not have to beg bread. This is not to say that God does not ordain hardship, even protracted hardship. This is to say that in all things, all things really do work together for good. As we were going through Romans together at Sojourn, one of our pastors, Rob Plummer, preached a ballin' sermon on Romans 8:28-30. He pointed out how Paul speaks of these justified Christians as being (already) sanctified and glorified. In other words, from God's eternal perspective, these things which seem so frustratingly out of reach are as good as done and as certain as gravity.

Indeed, much has ensued in these past days. Tomorrow, Lord willing, I will move into Shelby Park and will continue the beginning of this new chapter in my life. Even as this city has suffered in the cold, I have found my heart suffering in the cold, refusing the warmth, shelter, and power of God's Word. Yesterday, as Pastor Chad preached to us the story of Joseph, I was warmed by the thought that faith is a fight. I was warmed further by the typological truth he outlined: Just as Joseph was sent to Egypt to save Israel, so Christ was sent that we might be saved. And just as Joseph's brothers bowed the knee to him, so the world will bow the knee to Christ.

Community

Tonight was my "pre-moving." Ben Gantt and Laura Robert's Community Group helped me box up books, DVDs, etc both at home and in my office, and then we moved the boxes and some light furniture over to my new abode in Shelby Park. Moving books is usually a pain but being surrounded by dear brothers and sisters made it great, honestly. There wasn't too much work to do (I'm dropping the heavy lifting on my Community Group this Tuesday, because I love them like that) and afterwards, we ate chili and just hung for a few hours. It was, quite simply, great. Christian Community is sweeter than honey.

I spend most of today in seclusion, preparing my place for tonight, yes, but trying to pray as I went. I definitely feel as if my prayers were lacking, but nevertheless, I was encouraged. As I sorted through desk drawers filled with old papers, old photos, and the like, I was reminded of how far God has brought me, and through what circumstances. I was reminded that the Lord is good, that he has been abundantly kind to me thus far, and he will continue to do until his kingdom comes.

We're reading through the Old Testament together at Sojourn. I really mesh with Jacob's honest prayer he prays just days before meeting with Esau. He knew that he was not worthy of the grace bestowed on him, but he knew that God had bestowed it on him. If it was given by grace, would it not continue by grace? It was. And it did. Likewise I know that the Lord is good to me. He is my father. I need not fear when I ask him for daily bread.