Brandon Clements's Blog, page 2

Bubble (Flash Fiction Friday)

Two quick things:

A) I’ve had a strong desire to write fiction again recently. I’ve mostly been putting it off, and I don’t see doing another novel in the near future, but it’s getting to the point where I can’t not do it anymore.

B) I’ve been endlessly fascinated with moments–things I’ll notice or see on TV or read in a book. The character, the situation, the moment, the motivations…they all make my mind twirl and suddenly I’m just making up stuff, things that might be true, reasons why something might be happening. Hopefully some of you can relate and I’m not bat crazy.

My solution for A & B is that I’m going to start posting some flash fiction here on Fridays. They’ll be fun to write and read I hope. They will be short and totally unconnected, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on them.

Of course you can’t tell a whole story in 60 seconds or so, but what can you do in 60 seconds? Bite your fingernails, refresh Twitter? Hopefully these will be more entertaining than those.

Here’s my first attempt. It’s called “Bubble.”

———————————————————–

Today I sat in Chick-fil-a watching my kids be monkeys on the playground. I engulfed a moment of silence, annoyed and exhausted with their incessant “Mommy can I?”s and apparent unrelenting desire to wreak havoc on my sanity.

Then, this kid. He starts bawling. A little boy, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, cute as can be. My blood pressure spikes. “Can I just get one minute? Is that really too much to ask?”

He’s saying “Bubble, bubble…” over and over again and I hate it and I may even hate him, God forgive my bitter soul.

He’s sitting with a woman who looks like she’s seen better days, like she’s past the end of whatever crappy rope she was given, and I grow an ounce of sympathy. I know her because I am her.

Then, another lady walks in, dressed in a pants suit, and to my surprise approaches their table. She sits down after a brief greeting and half-smile at the boy, who is if you are wondering, still at it.

I take another glance at my hooligans out on the playground, then get up to get a refill. In a rare moment of bravery, I stop by their table. ”Hey buddy,” I say in my best mom-voice and try to get his attention. He looks at me, but doesn’t calm down. “Do you miss your bubbles at home? It’s okay.”

“Brother,” the exhausted lady says, nicely.

“Excuse me?”

“Brother–he’s saying brother.”

I look around and try to connect the dots.

He stops for a moment, and the tired lady flashes a sad smile at me. “He misses his brother.”

Then I look down at pants suit lady and finally notice her name tag. It says Department of Social Services.

Some invisible force keeps me from melting into a pile of tears but I don’t know how.

My exit is as glorious as my entrance–I mumble a halfway audible “I’m sorry” and then plod on over to get my refill, feeling another tormented “Bubble!” crawl over my shoulder on the way.

News in the Clements Family

Well, it’s been crickets around here lately. Been really busy with work and some side projects. Hope your spring has been splendid.

Wanted to drop in really quick and share some personal news. Kristi (my wife) and I have just started the adoption process and we are so excited we can hardly stand it!

We launched a new blog called The Clements Tribe to keep people who want to stay updated in the loop. You can check out our first post here if you are interested:

Some Big News For the Clements Family

We would certainly love your prayers as we start this long and difficult journey.

(My goal is to be writing around here much more consistently in the near future. Thanks for hanging around!)

What Kind Of Life Are You Going To Live?

What kind of life are you going to live?

I have always seemed to believe that I will answer that question at some point in the future. I did at 16 and I still do at 27.

I’ll really flesh that out when ________ happens.

It will be answered soon when I finally get time to ________ .

Next week, next month…next year I will answer that question. And it will be a good answer, no doubt. (At least, it is in my head.)

But I just have to get through today. Through this crazy week. Then things will be easier.

I’ll have time to re-evaluate and re-prioritize and take action. To do that thing I’ve been thinking about, to make that change I’ve been convicted about, to take that step I’ll be proud of on my death bed. But right this second I’m just exhausted and who wouldn’t be after this week? There’s a good show on and what I really need right now is to just vege out.

It’s a lie.

A two-bit sham.

An infomercial that always feels like it’s about to go off but never actually does.

I am answering that question today. Even if I don’t like the answer.

You are answering that question today.

It’s a harsh truth, but like all other truth a blessing to hear nonetheless.

“How we live our days is how we live our lives.”  -Annie Dillard

My Favorite Video of 2012

Do you guys remember 2012? I know it is old news by now, but I found myself re-watching this today and remembered just how special it is.

I saw it one night in early December and watched it five times in a row, no lie. Reduced to a pile of tears, I had to nearly scrape myself out of my desk chair.

If you haven’t seen it yet, please. I can’t tell you how worth 6 minutes it is.

If you’ve seen it already, watch it again. It’ll do your 2013 heart good.

 

The Best Church Sign I’ve Ever Seen

Church signs.You gotta love ‘em, unless you’re like me and you hate ‘em.

I mean, when I drive by at least 87% of them, my reaction is to roll my eyes and run my hand down my face. Which is not a great thing to do when you’re driving, no doubt. Those things are dangerous!

So many are mercilessly cheesy, if not downright stupid or mean or even theologically wrong or misleading, which is the worst option. Every time I see one that’s just ridiculous, I think about the fact that someone actually thought that putting that up was a good idea. They probably Yahooed “clever church signs” and scrolled through a list, smiled at one particular one and trotted out on their mission. Maybe in their translation of the Bible John misspeaks and says “They will know you are my disciples by your clever church signs.”

(Matthew 12.36 anyone? Church signs are gonna have it rough on judgement day…)

There is one church in the Upstate that usually always has the most ridiculous things on their sign, and many of them are “No you didn’t…” mean. (This church was actually the inspiration for “that church” in Every Bush Is Burning if you’ve read the book). One time I drove by it and their marquis said, “Contemporary Worship Is Religious Fiction.” I think I spit out my coffee or something.

I’ve never been in their church, but when I imagine their service I think about people in their Sunday best sitting around sucking on Sour Patch Kids. They don’t exactly seem like a group of people you’d want to invite to your next party if you know what I mean.

And then over Thanksgiving Kristi and I were driving by this church and, before I tell you that I have to tell you this: it’s been a rough couple of weeks for the Clements family (for reasons that are unnecessary to share). Let it suffice to say that our hearts were heavy driving down the road that night, and I wondered what sort of sage advice “that church” would have for us this time around.

And to my great surprise, the marquis read:

“Do Not Despair, God Reigns Over All”

And my heart nodded and said, “Yes, yes He does.”

For the first time in my 27 years of life on planet Earth, I was encouraged by a church sign. I did not believe those words would ever come out of my mouth.

(You know what they say about blind squirrels…)

So churches, if you must keep your marquis, please for the love of everything good and holy in the world say things like that–things that are good and simple and true, with a remote possibility of encouraging someone, and not things like “Our Church Is Prayer Conditioned”. The world will be a better place because of it.

(I just thought about the question of whether God’s ever used a tragically cheesy thing like “Our Church Is Prayer Conditioned” to encourage someone and I’m sure He has, but that makes my head hurt and I can’t think about it anymore. I need to lay down. He also uses car wrecks to bring people closer to Him, but we’re not supposed to drive around looking to total someone are we?)

Well, that’s a wrap for this ridiculous and rambling post…I’d love to hear about your all-time favorite church sign if you want to leave it in a comment below. 

Also, you’re welcome for this Google image search of “ridiculous church signs.” This was another great one I’d never seen before:

Some Mini Book Reviews

Aside from my normal, pastoral non-fiction that I’m always reading, I love (and I mean love) to read fiction. It is such a good escape for me that genuinely enriches my soul. So I thought I’d mention some books you might want to check out (and also ask you for some recommendations).

Home, by Marylinne Robinson

I read this book a while back, but oh, I just can’t not talk about it. It is written so beautifully, with characters so haunting that there’s really nothing I can say to measure up to how much I loved it. To be clear, it is not a thriller. It is not The Hunger Games (which I also read this summer and enjoyed). I tried to get Kristi to read it and she couldn’t get into it, said it was “boring,” to which I almost throat-chopped her. It is a stunning book that’s kind-of-but-not-really a modern retelling of the prodigal son story. If you read it I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

Eastbound Sailing, by Todd Foley

Todd Foley is a friend that I’ve been chatting with for a while, and he just released his first novel. I read it while at the beach last month and enjoyed it. I’m fond of stories full of the mistakes and regrets of growing up (and it certainly is that). It is a heartbreaking coming-of-age story with a surprising and tragic ending. The main character, a young man named Aiden, is a character that many will find themselves in. Great start Todd, I hope you keep writing!

East of Eden, by John Steinbeck

I know, it’s a crime that I’m just now reading this classic. I should be shot. My friend Travis Wright made me want to read it, and I almost got bogged down in the ocean of description at the beginning. It took me months to read the mammoth, and (I still can’t quite believe this), I read the entire thing on my iPhone. And at the end I absolutely loved it. The last half is the meat of the book, and I was amazed by the echoes of the Cain & Abel story. The Bible really does have the best, most moving stories ever told, and classics can be born on their coattails. Incredible book.

The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak

I listened to this book in my car, and when I first started I thought I would hate it. I thought about turning it off, but I’m glad I didn’t. It is a very unique book, first off in the fact that the narrator is Death, and that it is set in Nazi Germany. The main character is an orphan named Liesel Meminger who is adopted as a young girl by a German family. It goes on to tell how the family struggles through living in Germany at that time while not at all buying into Hitler’s regime, even risking their lives by hiding a Jew in their basement. Pretty incredible story told in a brilliantly unique way.

Let me know if you check out any of these, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Also, how about you? Read any good fiction lately? I’m looking for some good reads so I’d love any recommendations.

The Faithfulness of God in Marriage

I’ve been thinking a lot about marriage lately. Partly because tomorrow (Oct 20th) is our 5 year anniversary. Partly because we are going through a 10-week series on marriage at Midtown, which by the way, is so good that no matter what your marital status is, you’re wrong if you don’t give it a listen.

Not to mention, I was in my friend Travis’s wedding last weekend. We played golf for part of his bachelor party, and there were typical moron middle-aged men who talked to us and pulled the whole, “OH NOOOO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HOW CAN WE TALK YOU OUT OF THIS?” crap that makes me want to punch them in the face.

Weddings, though. We all know weddings are kind of a show (at least, those of us who have been married for a while, and those of us who are more cynical.) Like romantic comedies that end with the picture-perfect wedding that is nauseatingly happy, we know what they don’t show–what comes after the wedding. Which is where two sinful people live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, sometimes lacerate each other with relational sins that drive a wedge between them more real than a steel door. It is insane how you can literally be best friends with someone, yet at times be completely convinced that they are your worst enemy. We are, all of us, so silly sometimes.

The good news, of course, is that Jesus deals with the wedge. I do or say something stupid, just like I did on the way to the rehearsal dinner last weekend, and there it is. The foot-in-mouth wedge sits between us in the car, immovable it seems.

But Kristi knows that Jesus has forgiven her for much, and that grace sits in her. It gets stored up over time the more you think about it, which is amazing, to the point that it overflows. I say I’m sorry, that I was a jerk. I ask her to forgive me. And she does, without delay. She extends to me the same thing she’s been given. The wedge melts away like the dust that it is, and a few minutes later I joke that “Hey, hurt people hurt people,” and we both laugh hysterically.

The grace of Jesus applied to marriage continues to blow my mind, but the thing that’s really been getting to me lately is the faithfulness of God in marriage. We did a sermon several weeks back called Marriage: Contract or Covenant? that lit a spark under me. We taught Genesis 15, where God makes His covenant with Abraham. It’s basically an ancient handshake that is quite a bit more serious and beautiful (and also very weird to a 2012 American). The practice came from when two kings would make a covenant with each other, and it involved cutting animals in half, separating the halves, and each of them walking through the middle of the split, bloody animals.

So bring a knife and a petting zoo to your next contract signing…

What they were saying was, “I will keep this covenant, and if I don’t, you can kill me like these animals.” But in Genesis 15, God displays one of those earth-shattering, gorgeous foreshadows of the gospel by taking both sides of the covenant onto Himself. He doesn’t even let Abraham walk, because He knows we can’t keep the covenant. He walks through both sides, saying, “I will keep this covenant, and if I don’t, you can kill me…”

“…and when you don’t keep this covenant, I’ll kill Me for it.”

Head explosion.

Jesus! Jesus died because I couldn’t keep the covenant. He kept the covenant for me. He was faithful when I was faithless.

Oh, that does a number on your heart if it gets past all the church-speak and religious baggage that can inoculate you to the ferocity of the truth. He was faithful to me when I was a runaway whore. He pursued us to the point of putting on human flesh and tapping us on the shoulder.

And, drumroll please…Genesis 15, walking through the middle of…a center aisle?

Head explosion part two.

“Kristi, I will keep this covenant, and if I don’t, you can kill me for it.”

Oh, but I won’t! Consider me dead already. I’ll be an idiot guy…I’ll say stupid things. I won’t always love and cherish. At times I’ll not only fail to protect her, I’ll hurt her with my own sin. Sometimes viciously, out of the wickedness of my heart.

Thank God in heaven that Someone has already died for it. Someone has already kept the covenant. Someone has already loved unconditionally, perfectly.

It’s like the Lord is saying: “Sit under that waterfall of faithfulness, and then go pour out what you receive onto her.”

Oh, man. That wrecks me.

Because my heart…my eyes, they are wicked. They wander. They gaze at idols and grocery store magazines and anything else shiny or tan.

But, the good news? Wicked hearts and grocery store magazines are no match for the heart-changing faithfulness of God.

I get home from LifeGroup happy hour tonight and walk into an empty house. Boogie is gone to Virginia for work (I call her Boogie because it’s her nickname and it’s the best). I see a green index card that says:

“Turn on the dryer, please:) Love you!! Oh, I took your brown glasses:)”

And my heart leaps for her, that girl that I married 5 years ago. And I mean, it leaps.

I don’t want a hall pass–I want to grow old with her! I hate that she’s gone. I’ll put her pillows where she normally sleeps and I’ll wish they were her.

If I’ve learned one thing these past 5 years it’s that shiny and new and different and the grass-on-the-other-side are shamefully lame options compared to covenant faithfulness between two imperfect people, til death do them part.

I pray for the ocean of faithfulness we both swim in to never get old, to never stop extending to each other.

That on the day one of us buries the other, it will be said that our marriage was a small but true picture of the much grander and purer fiery-eyed faithfulness of God.

 

Happy 5 years, Boogie. Here’s to many more.

You Will Be So Different

As part of my job as a pastor at Midtown, I get the privilege of running our Recovery ministry. Being a part of Recovery has challenged me to no end, and it has absolutely been my favorite part of ministry so far. Getting to walk beside people learning how the gospel of Jesus frees them from slavery to sin and also heals scars from sins committed against them is nothing short of beautiful. Weighty, for sure. But beautiful.

One thing I’m grateful for is just how real it is. It is a constant reminder that beneath all of the “hey-how-are-you-fine-I’m-just-fine” there is a whole world of everyday heartache and we are fools if we think the people we pass everyday aren’t carrying near suffocating loads.

A few times a year, we start a new Recovery cycle and have a brand new group of people walk into the room, all carrying their various loads. They are, naturally, often unsure about the whole process. I can see it in their eyes. No doubt, it can be a scary thing to walk into an environment like that, and it takes a lot of courage to overcome the many fears that want to keep you away.

But to all of the doubts, hesitations, and timidity in the room, all I can do is smile. Because I’ve seen it all before. I know how it ends for so many of them.

I’ve seen the hard faces and too-tough-for-this attitudes melt.

I’ve seen the hopeless relinquish their despair and grasp onto the hope shouting at them from all angles.

I’ve seen the tears of anguish turn into tears of joy.

I’ve seen Jesus do work. Because that’s what He does. All the time.

I know that in just a few months, many of those in that same group will be sitting in a big circle, telling the rest of us all that Jesus has done in them. Testifying to the faithfulness of God.

I want to walk up to the people sitting there, tap them on the shoulder and whisper, “You will be so different.”

Not perfect. Not sinless or struggle-less. But your story, identity, or direction will somehow be different.

Of course, it won’t be easy. Change, repentance and healing never are. Like we say a lot:

Grace is not an anesthetic. You have to go through the pain. 

Walking out into the light hurts your pride.

Trusting Jesus with your deepest scars is scary.

Surrendering the death-grip you have on your identity, your idols, your coping mechanisms and your wounds is the farthest thing from easy.

But it is oh so worth it.

He is so worth it.

(Ask the hordes that have come before you.)

You will be so different.

Apple Hath Put A Hex On Me

This Wednesday, Apple introduced the newest shiny thing to their indomitable repertoire, and like millions of others, my breath quickened skimming through the live blogs explaining every update.

And I wouldn’t even consider myself a junkie–I don’t own every Apple product, and I didn’t help crash Apple’s website by ordering an iPhone 5 Wednesday night at midnight. I’m due for an upgrade so I may get one eventually, but not anytime soon.

But that does not change the fact that I am, it seems, inexorably hexed by the techie firm from California. I oohed at the new features, even though nothing was earth-shattering.

But the thing that really made me realize my hex was not my desire for the new shiny Apple product, it was my disdain for anything else.

You see, as I was reading about the new iPhone, I came across articles wondering if Apple is losing their touch, putting forth interesting evidence that, at least empirically, the iPhone may not be the most powerful or noteworthy smartphone on the planet anymore.

And do you know what my response to that was?

“Pfffffffftttttttt. RIGHT…”

And then I realized something. It wouldn’t matter if ten of the world’s leading technology experts sat down in front of me with the iPhone 5 and Smartphone X beside each other, then proceeded to systematically demonstrate how Smartphone X is better, faster, cooler, and more intelligent than the iPhone.

No matter what they showed me, I frankly don’t think I would believe them. And if I did begin to believe them, I still think I would wholeheartedly not care. Not want Smartphone X. Still have so much trust in Apple that even if they were beaten by another, they would not stay beaten.

So, I’m wondering…how did this happen? Do the Apple-ites from Cupertino have some sort of mind potion they are releasing from the chips in our iPhones? How did they manage to put such a powerful hex on me?

I really don’t know. But hexed I am.

What about you? Do you feel the same Apple hex I’m describing, or are you a defecter? (Or could you not possibly care less?)

Some Sad News About My Friend Luis

If you’ve been around Midtown for a while, been around the blog for a while, or read my book, odds are you know or have heard about my friend Luis. He’s a 43 year-old hispanic man who, upon our first contact with him years ago, was passed out in Finlay Park, homeless and drinking rubbing alcohol.

Needless to say, he’s come a long way since then. He got on his feet, battled his addiction to alcohol, met Jesus, was baptized, and got smack in the middle of a church who loved him and legitimately became his family–the people that he shared life and even holidays with.

I’ll share more at some point later because there’s a lot of story here. But here’s the short version of the sad news:

Several weeks ago something really, really strange happened–Luis didn’t show up for a job he was supposed to do. His phone was also off, so I knew something was wrong. I went and checked both hospitals downtown but didn’t find him there. The next place I tried was the jail, and sure enough, that’s where I found him.

He had been picked up for trespassing, and the specifics make it unfortunately lame, but I won’t share them. Anyway–no big deal, I thought, and first thing the next morning I went to pay his bail to get him out.

I kept calling the bail company that day to see what was taking so long. They finally called me later that day and said that Immigration had put a hold on him. And then I found out that that meant he would very likely be deported to Mexico.

I went to visit him in jail and he didn’t know this yet. He thought he just needed to pay a fine to get out.

“No, buddy–I’ve already paid your fine. They won’t let me get you out.” I told him. “Immigration is involved and they say you’re an illegal alien. I think they are going to send you back to Mexico.”

I teared up telling him. He just said, “Oh. I hope not.”

“I hope not too, but it doesn’t look good, buddy.”

He was really sad, but still kept his spirits up. Moments later he said, “If they do, you guys gonna say, ‘Remember that crazy Mexican?’”

It’s been about three weeks since then. Last week I went to visit him in an Immigration facility in middle-of-nowhereville Georgia. Jeff and Jazz (two of his LifeGroup guys) and I drove down to give him some money, clothes, tell him goodbye and that we loved him so much. It was a very frustrating and emotional two days that ended with a really meaningful hour-long talk through some plexi-glass and a wired telephone.

Honestly, he probably looked the healthiest he ever has. He was sad, but extremely happy to see us and in very good spirits. He was his usual jokester self, but also asked me to tell everyone that he loved them and that he’ll miss them.

My heart is still reeling from this, and I’ve been pretty torn up about it. He has been a really good friend for a long time, and this is not at all the ending to his story that I wanted.

But as bad as it seems, God has given me a bedrock peace about it all. He’s reminded me that this is in fact not the end to Luis’s story. That Luis is His son, that He is still God in Mexico, that He is going to take care of him. That just as He worked tremendously in Luis’s life here, He can continue that work elsewhere.

Sitting there staring at him through the plexi-glass last week, I was overwhelmed by the sadness that comes from separation. I grieved for him because, as he said that day, we are “the closest thing to family he has.”

But I was also overwhelmed by the insane grace that Luis was even sitting there–clean, sober, healthy, smiling. Knowing the fullness of his story, it is an honest-to-God miracle that he is alive and healthy. He has escaped so many dangerous situations, and drank enough alcohol to kill him ten times over. But, he’s still there. A real-life miracle, breathing and laughing. Telling us that God is good, that he’s thankful for us, that he loves us.

I’m going to miss my friend dearly, and so are many others. The good news is, family is still family no matter what distance is between you.

There is much, much more to his story, even to the last month that he was here in Columbia. I hope I will have the honor to tell you more one day.

But thankfully, his story is not over. I’m waiting for a phone call from Mexico to see what’s next for him.

I’ll keep you in the loop. In the meantime, please be praying for him. More specifically:

For him to stay off of alcohol when he gets there.
For him to find work & a place to live.
For him to find a community of believers to support him.
For God’s continued work in his life.

Thanks in advance for your prayers. They are much appreciated.