blogerud

Valentine's Mush

2007-02-14T11:26:00.000-08:00

Today is Valentine's Day. The day of flowers and candy, paper hearts cut out at school, cinnamin candies, and dinner for two. Or maybe on the other end of the spectrum it's a day of just being made that much more aware that you're having dinner for one. And if you're a girl that dinner for one is probably a bucket of chocolate ice cream. The guys usually go for the cereal meal. My preference is mini-wheats. The maple flavored ones.

It's funny how we take a day that is focusing on love, and make it all about the specific romantic, guy and girl, warm fuzzy, kissy, baby-talk kind of love. That kind of love is great. It's very needed. The world would eventually grow old and the human race would go extinct without the babies that come from that kind of love. So hurrah for the ooshie-booshie love. But I think on a day like today we could celebrate more than that specific type of love. I think we could celebrate love in whatever context it may be. A single mom and her baby. Two war vets who have kept contact for 60 years. High school friends. A brother and sister. God?

Lately, the topic of love has been brought to my attention a few times. How nothing else is really worth the value of love. If I'm super smart, but not loving, I've missed it. If I'm really talented, but not loving, I've missed it. If a lot of people like me, but I don't love them, I've missed it. If I do nice things for other people, but don't really truly love them, I've missed it. If I give money to the church, but don't love Jesus, I've missed it. If I have all sorts of spiritual insights and gifts, but not love, I've missed it. Love is the most excellent way. How to be a loving person is the greatest legacy I can pass on to my children. (I don't have children, but when I do ... ) I'm thankful to my parents and extended family for modeling how to be a loving person. I think I've gotten the best upbringing I could ask for. A loving one. I hope I can pass that on.

Thanks to you all who have loved me and loved others when I was watching you. Happy V-Day.

Safe

2007-01-12T09:32:00.000-08:00

Some lyrics I'm encouraged by today:

Even though I walk through the valley
Of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle
Of the storms of this life
I won't turn back I know You are near

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?

Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Lord You never let go of me

And I can see a light that is shining
For the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to these struggles
But until that day comes
We'll live to know you here on the earth

Matt Redman

An apology

2007-01-10T14:47:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry!

I just discovered all the posts that people have been writing and I haven't been moderating and accepting. Just so you know I didn't know you had written anything!!! It's my sweet computer skillz coming through again. Thanks to all who care enough to say hi - it's motivating to write more! But I believe I shall be on top of this blog again soon ... and I have time today, considering it is dumping snow again today as it was during my last post. I've been in a local coffee shop for almost five hours now waiting for the snow to stop but ... I've decided that it's not going to. Ever. I'm disappointed because tonight was to be the first night of clccyouth.com in 2007. But alas it was not to be. The snow has made an end of that.

But the people I've seen in here today coming through are very interesting:
1.) Two very cheerful guys who have special needs. One guy sat beside me just laughing for about 10 minutes. God is so creative.
2.) A guy who made a scene coming in "out of the cold!" to use the washroom and then another scene when he discovered he had to get a key from the cashier for the aforementioned washroom break
3.) Various computer users and book readers (myself included)

Anyways, I hope I can find my car when I leave.

adios

Holy discontent Batman!

2006-11-27T11:41:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling contented today. There is a white world of blowing snow outside (yes, November in Abbotsford BC is usually a little warmer and wetter this time of year) but I am burrowed inside my apartment with slippers and jogging pants. Aahhh. Life is good.

Contentment is cool because its more a state of mind than circumstances. I could be upset that my car didn't make it up my driveway yesterday and now I have to walk down to get to it today in the cold. I could be inconvenienced that I really can't drive anywhere because of the roads. But contentment chooses to be at rest despite circumstances. It's been said that "godliness with contentment is great gain" (1 Timothy 6:6)

This weekend I heard about the concept of "holy discontent". The idea behind it is that there are things that you have been wired to be annoyed by, but in a good way. This idea says that through your experience, there are injustices or needs that stand out especially to you, and bring you to the point of saying, "That's it! I've had enough - I can't handle that anymore - I need to do something!" And these things aren't just felt by you, they are felt by God too. It's the place where your heart and God's heart are "wrecked" for the same issue, people-group, injustice, need, brokenness, etc.

I think my "holy discontent" areas are 1.)unaccepted people who are socially outcast, 2.)young people who don't find Jesus as an anchor for their soul, and 3.)poorly led corporate worship that doesn't allow people to connect spirit-to-Spirit with God.

What's your holy discontent?

Dirty Floors

2006-11-11T18:41:00.000-08:00

I live in an apartment building. It has linoleum floors in the kitchen and when I moved here almost 2 years ago, I found that there were some irremovable stains on them. Not that I tried to remove them of course, but they had that irremovable look to them. The kind that seem to be a part of the flooring, like they were made like that. A sort of "used" look.

Anyways, because of the already "used" look of my floor, as well as my bacheloresque skills, my kitchen floor has tended to collect more, well, "used" features. I'm not sure what got into me today, maybe I just had time on my hands, but I got down to some serious cleaning. I was sitting at the kitchen table and noticed the stain under the corner of my fridge. There was a distinct line where my "swiffer" couldn't reach any further and a stain was growing. "That's gross" I finally decided. And got on my hands and knees with some cleaner and paper towel and went to town on that sucker. And from there I had to keep going. Like a man possessed I followed the crack where my floor meets the cupboards and now I can proudly say my floors are clean. Minus the irremovable ones.

I just got thinking of how things can go a while and we get used to the stains we always see. Maybe its because we don't the time to actually stop and look underneath, behind, in the corners and cracks. But it gets really gross. I think that's like our hearts too. When I don't stop and really look, I collect stains and junk. I can get used to how it looks and forget about the great experience of a short account with Jesus. So here's to confession. Here's to repentance. Here's to letting God's Spirit speak into the cracks and corners of our inner selves. And here's to actually doing something about what we hear. Oh yeah, and there's no such thing as an irremovable stain with Jesus.

Famamily Reunion

2006-09-07T00:48:00.000-07:00

Langerud is my name and gathering in large groups of other Langeruds and eating a lot is my game. Or it was this past labor day weekend. The Langeruds were together again, or most of us, that is. Uncle Henry and Auntie Ruth and their clan didn't make it out as well as some beloved cousins from our family too. We still managed to have a lot of fun and share some good memories. We celebrated a 30th wedding anniversary with renewal of vows included. We also celebrated God's faithfulness to us, and how 4 generations ago, my great-great-aunt shared the story of Jesus with the rest of her family as a little girl. I really admire my grandpa and his brothers and sister for showing us younguns how to give back to God by serving others and by being passionate about the Story that changed the framework of our family forever. Here's a few pics of the weekend:

1:37 in the AM.

2006-08-31T01:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I can't sleep.

I have blamed it on my bed for a long time, and I still hold to that to some level. I think tonight I'm just not in the zone for sleep. I'm a little wired after youth tonight. So I'm up eating Breyers Double Churned Extra Creamy Natural Vanilla ice cream. I think that's about as vanilla as it's going to get. My dad would be proud.

My mind is mulling over all the events of the day and the coming events of the fall. Youth ministry brings a lot of thoughts this time of year. (I'm such a veteran :)ha!)I have this anticipation building up inside of me as I see our group molding together and things coming together for this school year ahead. And I love the people I do youth ministry with. 5 of us just stayed after all the students left tonight and played hide and seek, and with the lights off it turned into a big game of "throw stuff at each other". If I could say one thing to someone asking about how to work with a team of leaders, it would be "have illegal amounts of fun together". Especially a youth ministry team.

Before I sign off tonight I want to recommend to any church/ministry leaders reading a book called, "Practicing Passion: Youth and the quest for a passionate Church" by Kenda Creasy Dean. It's really energized my thoughts lately. The author's guiding conviction is this:

If the church is going to make sense to adolescents, then our ministry must be predicated on passion - the Passion of Christ, the passion of youth, and the passionate faith that is made possible when these two things come together.

The author says that for long the church has stifled the passion of youth by not involving them in the mission of the Church, and not taught them a theology of dying. That Christ's Passion was to the death, and that the faith we want is one that we would die for. So yeah check it out - it reads like a text book with deep insight into scripture and the practices of youth ministry in history.

Welp, I'm signing off here. Maybe sleep will come ... adios!

Chubb Lake 2006

2006-08-26T23:19:00.000-07:00

Hey all
Here's some pics from camp this summer at the infamous Chubb Lake camp .... !!! You'll notice the gold medallion hanging proudly around my neck in one of those shots which is the result of the "A-Team"'s victory in camp sports. Such glory. You'll also notice the nice fit of the white hoodie. "big guy in a little coat ..." :)

&!$#^@%

2006-08-07T23:11:00.000-07:00

A bird took a dump on my head today.

It was more my face than my head.

My friends laughed in my pooey face.

I hope some birds poo on them soon ... or at least on the bird who pooed on me ...

The funniest part was that minutes before I was talking about how I had never been pooed on by a bird. I think I should be more prepared for the unexpected. Life can be crappy. At least there were friends there to laugh at me. Getting pooed on by yourself would be way worse.

The moral: life can be crappy but it's better when there's more people with you to experience the crap.

Grateful

2006-08-05T23:29:00.000-07:00

So it's been a while ... time for a new post.

I've just spent the last week living in a tent. It was given to me by a dear friend and it's pretty sweet. The first few days spent in it were on the coast of Vancouver Island, just a few km from the northernmost tip of the Island and, there's not a lot goin' on up there! Well there's a lot of logging trucks. Aaaaand there are a lot of unbelievably beautiful old-growth trees and magnificent lakes and an amazing sandy beach, kind of like a little Tofino, which is where we put up camp for a few days. Our youth staff at clcc spent a few days along with Jer's dad, Dave Postal, doing a retreat. We drove for 5 hrs and hiked for another hour through the bush and arrived at Raft Cove for our little adventure. It was picturesque. Beach, sky, waves rolling in, rocky cliffs around, and, well, when you get 5 guys alone on a beach in the bush there's not a lot that remains sacred. Clothes become optional, bodily functions are expected to be heard, smelt, discussed and well, lets just say that cameras pop up at "inopportune" times. It makes you glad to be a man. Beards abound and the laughter and mirth overflow. Pure fun.

We invented games on the beach. We created a bocci ball set out of old fishing net buoys. We had contests and even created a little playing field where we saw who could swing and toss the kelp the furthest. I didn't win. I just won a nasty whiplash mark on my leg where the long tail-end of the kelp smacked me as i let it go ... not a coordinated moment. But I don't feel bad because, who the crap throws kelp anyway?

We shared stories. Dave shared his 30+ years of ministry experience with a bunch of young lads and we ate it all up. Wisdom like that which comes from a life given to serving and leading is pure gold.

I came back energized and excited about life. I came back inspired by our Creator who makes such beautiful places for us to enjoy. I came back happy to be living life with such great guys that I love. I'm grateful.

An Unfair Assessment ... maybe

2006-07-20T22:13:00.000-07:00

I've been enjoying my visit to Alberta thus far, detours and all :) Some golf, some getting my thumb slammed in the van door, a lot of fresh raspberries and ice-cream courtesy of mom's and grandpa's raspberry bushes, an old deck removal at the farm, some soccer, and some good time with family and friends. Aaah. A good break.

On my way here I travelled on a Sunday. As I passed through a small town on the outskirts of Calgary I saw that there were a few churches having services as I drove. Being a youth pastor I don't have a lot of opportunities to visit other churches, so since I was making good time I decided to stop in and, mostly out of curiosity, see another church gathering in progress.

The church parking lot was packed. There was a big banner on the wall advertising .. something, I don't remember. It was a fairly new looking building, and I gathered I was walking into a church building that was fairly well-off. Now let me fill you in that I had spent the previous night sleeping on a lawn with some friends, including the infamous Clinton Horsman - Salmon Arm's greatest treasure :) And I woke up to start driving at around 4:30am. And I was wearing the clothes I had slept in. And I had a couple days' growth on my face. And my hair was spewing out the sides of my floppy ball cap. I was in top form for Sunday morning church. Welp, I figured I suppose I will find out what it is like for somebody who isn't wrapped up in church culture to walk into a gathering, as is. Cool.

When I got there the music was being played on an intercom in the lobby. The doors to the gathering area were shut so I pulled one of the doors open. An usher had to step aside as I opened the door to make my way in. I did the head-nod and half smile courtesy, "hello" to him. He returned the gesture. He had a handful of bulletins and I was going to ask for one, but he had turned his attention back to the music team on stage. I found a spot near the doors and leaned against the wall. There were a lot of people there, probably a couple hundred in the bottom area, and I couldnt see if the balcony was full or not. A worship band playing "My Savior's Love" led the people in song. I saw people with their heads bowed, some people had their hands lifted in the air. Most people kind of stood there and sang the words. I looked for an obvious place to sit, but there wasn't an end-seat available. I didn't want to force my way into an aisle. The ushers didn't ask me if I needed any help. I thought that would have been a good thing, as they didn't know who I was and I did feel a little conspicuous standing at the back alone. I took in about 15 minutes; the pastor gave a few announcements and a girl sang really beautifully the Celine Dion italian song - "the prayer", i think it's called.

When I walked back out to my car I noticed another church right across the street that was a real contrast to the first one. There were a lot less cars and an older building. "Alright, I'll take a couple minutes here too," I thought. This place definitely had a smaller, family feel. There was probably about 30 people there. A worship team again was leading a song and the people were belting out the words, and I could tell they were super-engaged in the words of the song, "To The Ends Of The Earth". ("Jesus I believe in You and I would go to the Ends of the Earth.") There was a lady lying on the floor in the aisle on her back. The band stopped and the pastor gave some announcements, the band joked with him, people helped collect the offering. The sound guy gave me the head-nod and less-than-half-smile. The lady on the floor kind of came and stood a few feet away from me, not making eye-contact and had a strange smile on her face. A young guy walked past me to the bathroom and gave a smile. And they too, kept going about the service.

It's not really fair to judge a couple churches on less than 15 minutes in their gathering. I didn't make an effort to talk to anyone. I came half-way through. I left before it ended. I had no intentions of ever coming back. They didn't have a lot of chance to make me feel like I could belong there. But it really has made me think about what it's like to walk in to a worship gathering as a stranger. It's pretty hard. And I'm a pastor! It makes me think about the job I do to make people feel they can belong in our church family. It makes me wonder if all a church really has is about a 15 minute window to create an atmosphere of belonging before someone decides in their head that they don't.

cool interview

2006-07-17T23:26:00.001-07:00

Check out this video clip interview with Brad Pitt. It's pretty inspiring, especially the part at the end.

Chain Wallet?

2006-07-17T09:37:00.000-07:00

I had to beg people for money the other day. Strangers. And I was astonished at the response I got.

The story is mostly embarassing to me because it involves my famous forgetfulness and my wallet once again. I lost my wallet at Christmas the day before I was to fly to visit family in Alberta. Big hassle. (And its never fun re-telling over and over the story of your own blunder.) Well, I did it again - sort of.

I left Abbotsford this past weekend in my car to again come and visit family in Alberta. I got a decent start and was making some good time. It was a beautiful drive over the Coquihalla as I drove across the mountains. My plan was to go north through Jasper and on to Edmonton via the Yellowhead highway. A good distance into the trip my stomach dropped and my hands tightened on the wheel. I didn't have my wallet!!!! I left it at home. I couldn't pay for gas. I had no driver's license. No credit card. No bank card. Only a few bucks of cash. It's funny how you can get feelings of anger, despair, and laughter all at the same time. So, I had to turn around and head back to Abbotsford. But I figured I should top up my tank with gas to make sure I didn't run out of gas on the way - I had under half a tank. I spent the last remaining dollars on gas and got on my way again. Still trying to decide whether I should laugh out loud or scream and throw a big rock at a tree, I headed out. Then my stomach dropped again. The toll booth!!!!! I didn't have ten bucks to pay! The screaming option seemed a little bit more attractive at that point. So I pulled in to a rest stop and tourist shop to decide what I should do. As I leaned on my Malibu in my pool of self-loathing over my scatter-brained-ness, the only option was all around me. People. Tourists with money to burn. Welp, I shrugged, better just get to it. There was an older gentleman who was leaning against his car next to mine. I thought in general people would laugh at me and, after hearing my story, chuckle and say, "Okay buddy, here you go. You do need some help!" I approached this man and said, "Hi there." We exchanged pleasantries. I kind of laughed and said, "You know, I could use some help today." He immediately looked away and said, "You're talking to the wrong guy" and kept staring away. He didn't even know what I needed!!!! I was nothing short of stunned. I mumbled something about wondering how he knew he couldn't help me and walked away. Other reactions included very suspicious stares and "If it's money you need, I'm not helping you." A couple gracious people gave me spare change. Until I came to one lady. I asked her for five bucks and told her pieces of my morning's wallet-less adventure. She didn't flinch. She said, "Yeah I'll give you 5 bucks!" and reached into her pocket with a smile. I thanked her and told her she was very kind. She responded by saying, "I believe in karma! What goes around comes around." I smiled and thanked her again.

I don't think it bothered me or hurt that people didn't want to give me money. I can understand that. But what struck a painful blow was when people chose not to hear me, or listen to where I was at. They decided ahead of time that they would not lend a hand to help someone they did not know. That was kind of sad and I hope I will be someone who always listens before deciding if I am able to help someone out or not. There's something life-giving in hearing and empathizing with story. It seems to connect us as humans.

But I am now safely in Alberta with my wallet. Maybe I need to buy a chain-wallet.

Rock and roll baby

2006-07-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

Being a rock star is great. In case you were wondering what it is like, well, it is fabulous. I know when you look at a rock star like me you probably think, "yeah that's all well and good, but I wouldn't want all the attention and pedestal-pushing - it just seems shallow and tiring". And it can be. And it is. But at the end of the day, you hang up your in-ear monitors and tight black band-T shirts knowing that you wouldn't change a thing.

I just got back from a sweet touring gig. Life on the road isn't easy, but once it gets into your blood, there's no turning back. The road just calls your name.

Yup, Nanoose Bay Pre-teen camp was kicking this year. Those kids couldn't get enough. The screaming, the awe-struck stares, the requests for "I wanna go up, up up" - the glory of it all was beautiful. Though our youth band didn't sign any Bibles this year, we still felt the adulation of the crowds through questions like, "Do you guys do concerts and make lots of money?" "Oh yeah", we answered them. "Oh yeah."

But seriously .... at camp this week the comparison between my own little story of my life and the eternal and all-encompassing story of God stared me in the face. I was reading through a book called "i am not, but I know I AM" by Louie Giglio. Here's a quote:

When you get right down to it, trading in the little story of me is not really all that big of a sacrifice at all. Who wouldn't want to abandon a script you could fit on the pointed end of a pin for a chance to get in on the glorious epic that is so enduring that its screening will require all of eternity ... To die to self is to gain on an unfathomable scale - a daily funeral that is nothing more than the doorway to a life filled with the matchless wonder of all that He is.

Passionate about ... nothing

2006-07-08T01:06:00.000-07:00

Crescent Park is located right near Crescent beach in Whiterock BC, right on the ocean. I hadn't been there before until tonight when myself and some other friends piled into the Malibu (I own a large, golden, Chevrolet sedan - you may have noticed others like it around, probably parked at a senior's legion hall, or perhaps near a local lawn bowling club)and headed for the park for a little BBQ action. By the time we got from Abbotsford to Whiterock to pick up Deanna and Baker, and then got to the park it was after 8pm. Needless to say we were all hungry. I think if it wasn't for the pack of .88 cent licorice Psegga brought from Wal-Mart, we would have resorted to cannibalism and eaten Laura. Or Lisa. Whoever was weaker or more easily distracted.

But we ate and frolicked and had a merry time. By the time the sun set, we were just about ready to go. We noticed the park ranger locking up the public washrooms and we decided we should get on our way. We said "hello" to him as we passed by and he said "hello" back. Friendly chap. To our dismay, when we arrived at the parking lot to leave, the gate was locked. And our friendly neighborhood park ranger had motored off in his little speedy golf cart. What was he thinking??? It was almost 11pm and he locked us in, said "hello" and drove away! What kind of black-hearted evil finds joy in locking people into the park and leaving them to fend of the local drunken teenagers?

Luckily Deanna's friend knew where the Ranger lived ... so D and I walked across the park, jumped over the locked fences marked, "No Trespassing - Private Property" and rang the doorbell. He was choked. But we didn't care. We were going home. After arriving back at the gate, the others told us of all the drunk high school students who had been wandering out of the park. Just as they were, a 16ish girl teetered in our direction. She was pretty with brown hair and drunk as a skunk. She had lost her friends. And she had lost her cellphone. She got me to dial it, hoping to hear her Stairway To Heaven ring-tone from wherever it landed in the park. Right. She asked for a ride to her friends and we obliged graciously. Of course we wouldn't let this girl wander home in the dark. We all decided that she was the reason we had gotten locked in the park.

As we drove away we saw more teenagers wandering home barely able to stand up. Tens and twenties of them. I was brought back to my highschool years of hanging out in public parks, being loud, and occasionally getting into some trouble. But at home I was always reminded of what was true, what really mattered. That life is a precious gift from God, and that I was precious to God and to others. I doubt that many of those teenagers have a home like to go to. Too many people are living their lives passionate about nothing.

blegos anonymous

2006-07-04T23:39:00.000-07:00

I have chosen to make blogspot my home for all my blogging. Yes all of it ;) And that's saying something. I'm a fan of the "everybody can comment" business here at blogger. So if you've been directed here from Xanga, hi! boo freakin ya.

One thing I like doing is putting two words together to make one word. Tonight I was chatting with Jer and this whole topic of the blog-world came up. He is a bit over the top with the blogging. I would even say he's obsessed. He sometimes tries to persuade others to begin blogging in sneaky, underhanded ways. But I'm not falling for it...

Anyway, somehow the conversation went in the direction of the amount of comments posted on each blog entry. I think Jer was telling me that he had 1 and a half bazillion posts on one of his blogspot entries. I told him he needed to keep his blog-ego in check. And so the creation of the word, "blego" came into being. I don't think Jer's blego has run amuck although I'm going to be keeping my eye on it ....

But maybe its not so important what other people notice or acknowledge about what I think or say. It's probably more important that I just say and do things out of the right mind and heart motivation. I don't think significance comes through accolades. I've been trying to figure out what Jesus meant when he said that you have to die in order to really live. This might be a piece of that puzzle.