This will not define you anymore.

God doesn't define me as a sexual addict.

Was in LAX and went down to Manhattan Beach. Ive been there before a few years ago and have visited several So-Cal beach towns in the last 10 years.

Had been working hard that particular week and felt that a walk with the Big Guy was a great way to spend a sat. night away from the family. Thoughts of my walks and revelations in middle of nowhere Nebraska, and random churches visited on previous tours, came to mind. This is gonna be great! Just God, me, the ocean, cute Californy families with their blonde, curly-haired kids hanging out in front of the cafe, came to mind.

As the shuttle driver dropped me off, I could see some type of festival was going on. He was definitely excited about it.  "Hey look at that one in the high heels over there"!   Apparently he especially liked  his route tonight.  This place was hoppin and traffic was at a standstill. There were people everywhere!

This wasn't the Northern Wisconsin state fair or Lumberjack days back in Minnesota. Definitely not Kansas anymore. That is unless Dorothy recently turned off the yellow brick road and onto the MTV Spring Break superhighway.  People were mostly in swimwear and there was definitely an emphasis on your outward appearance. A very high emphasis! One I've only witnessed inside nightclubs.

Yet, this wasn't a nightclub. This was a beach village. An outdoor walking area.  Previously I had observed families eating breakfast outside of cafes with children running around. I had wished to bring Stephanie, Oscar, and Oliver and enjoy a morning of watching waves roll in, or surfers catching their favorite waves. Not today.

As I walked towards the ocean I quickly realized that I was now in fact part of this outdoor party. But I wasn't dressed for it. I had my cargo shorts, Hollister number 22 blue t-shirt and my Sketchers shoes with low-cut athletic socks on. Definitely not dressed for a fine-dining experience, but I thought it was appropriate for my evening.  As I made my way down through the crowd of ripped muscle men in board shorts and party girls dressed in high heels and teenie bulging bikinis, I felt like a small-town out of touch midwesterner with a bible strapped to his Jesus holster. It was a feeling I'm sure Brenda and Brandon from the TV series 90210 must've felt when they arrived from Minnesota.  Except that they showed up to school on their first day. I was in an outdoor nightclub that, at 5pm, was setting up to be crazy insane as the sun dipped west over the massive Pacific ocean.

As I reached the bottom of the hill I stopped to look back at the crowd of people partying on the street.

What the heck am I doing here God!?

You send a previously sexually-addicted person here!  Are u insane!?

My thoughts race.  I don't get it. Something just doesn't resonate.  Should I be here?  I want to. Should I?

I turn towards the beach and see the crowded volleyball courts. Each team has a theme. I find myself watching the middle-aged movers and shakers of southern California teams go at it.  I imagine corporate board members, smoothie entrepreneurs, and next-gen smart phone creators.  One team has some awful hot pink shorts with flamingoes on it. I think my mom bought me a pair once from a cheap Florida souvenir store. Shorts read: Clearwater Beach Florida.

These Guys are good. I imagine that if we had beaches in Wisconsin like this, my friends and I would probably be volleyball beach-heads instead of Mt biking dudes at Lowes Creek.  When in Rome.

I visit the other games briefly. One team has the clown thing down.  Another chick team decided that nightgowns were unique. Another, fishnet stockings, and attire I've seen in Halloween costume magazines. Sleazy.

It strikes me that they're just all about having fun. Having a good time. Most are much older than the dance crowd up by the houses, but the sensuality and good time exudes all around. All about flesh. All about the external me.

After watching my last game (this one was popular because an LA Laker traded in his B-ball for a V-ball) I head out.

Back up the hill. I've seen enough.

Or have I?

I just have this curiosity?  People do this. This is real. Why aren't I leaving?

I just don't get it?  What a lot of energy spent in the flesh.

I used to spent a lot of energy in the flesh. I just did it differently. Same stuff George.  This is the shizz I were part of.

As I walked up the hill a couple blocks away, I came upon the coffee shop I visited previously. No cute kids and trendy parents.

In front of the grocery store a cheerful black woman caught my attention. "would u like to donate to help some teens down in the city?  Help them stay out of trouble?".

Are you kidding me woman?  There's trouble all around here. Are u blind?

At first i thought she might be a scammer.  I asked her about the program and she gladly told me. I could see that she was the real deal.

I donated a few bucks and started asking her questions. Questions like:  what's going on here?  What's with the flesh?  Is this typical?

Her name was Brenda.  She chuckled and filled the Wisconsin kid on what he had been missing out on all his life. Apparently she grew up as a girl just like these kids. Nothing could keep her away from having fun. Now she was older, wiser, but I could tell that if she could, she would love to have all the boys chasin after her still, just for fun.

When she found out my job, and what I did, she took a real interest in me and wanted to introduce me to her friend. Which she did. He was a Promoter.   Promoter?  What the heck?!  Im so in California!  We dont have Promoters in the midwest we have Architects, Bankers, and Painters.  Next I'm gonna meet a aspiring movie actor and a producer  

Come to find out He's the Promoter of a band, and the band members were handing out cards to people on the street. They were a promotin! Ha!

Met some of the young boys that were doing the handing out. Everyone was happy to meet me and super friendly.

Meanwhile some flaming homos,(theres just no other way to describe these dudes) wearing their leopard bikinis, and sporting their LA Fitness hard bodies to everyone around, were making a scene in front of us. Their posse was making contact with some girls that had walked by.  They looked irritated by their comments but instead of walking away they settled into a spot safely away yet strategically close enough to still engage. Then everyone pulled out their smart phones and started texting.

At this point I'm seriously lost.  What the heck?!  Are they gay too? Have these girls lost it?  Which way is up?  Gravity still pulls towards the earth, right?

I ask Brenda. She hasn't got a clue. Apparently even the seasoned California veteran is stumped.

It's my clue to leave before I float away. I'm outta here before it gets seriously weird.

I say my goodbyes to my new friends and I walk back to the shuttle stop.

Nacho's back and he got that look in his eyes. "Sexy senioritas, aye?  Aye yai yai amigo!"

I shake my head. I mean really, what do you say to a guy like that?!  Wow!  I'm speechless.

I get back to my room and my thoughts are everywhere.  What was that about God?  Why did u lead me there. I saw flesh. I don't need to see that. I avoid that.


Then it hits me.

And God speaks:  "So how has avoiding flesh worked for you before? You would avoid till you went looking for it. Now, you don't look for it. But it's still there isn't it?

Whoa!

I'm not the same guy anymore. Yeah, it's still out there. Maybe even worse than before. The old me would've turned to a computer that night to lust and dive head long into disobedience.  Tomorrow I would've felt like a failure. A phony. A powerless child.   

But I'm not the same guy anymore.

I'm not April 22 George. Not in Gods eyes.  I'm George. Im George who honors his wife, even when we're apart. I'm the George that honors his children. I'm the George that honors his God. I'm the George that sees what my Father sees. I see LIFE!  I see hearts!  I see depth. I see purpose. I am not defined by April 22. I am living proof of that every day.

Praise God!  He sets the captives free.


"For the Lord in His mercy will lead them."  Isaiah 49:10

What is comfort?

God wants us to look to Him for our comfort. He doesn't want us to be comfortable by holding on to what this world has to offer. He wants us to be comfortable in what HE has to offer.  

This doesn't mean we will be comfortable as the world sees comfort but we will be comfortable because we know that we are standing on our Fathers promises. These promises include the promises of the Bible and the promises that the Holy Spirit himself has given (and will continue to give us) in the future.

Faith means I'm ok with whatever circumstance when I know God is leading me. This doesn't mean that it will be easy. It just means that I will be comfortable because my definition of comfort is not the definition this world and culture uses. It's the definition the bible uses. God is my rock. He is what I turn to.

My mom is more concerned about upsetting me than she is about taking a chance to drive up and see her grandchildren. Her thoughts imprison her. For the last year she has chosen to stay in Chicago and not drive to see her family. She has justified this choice by consulting with her friends and family.  She has based this decision on the actions and words of her son and has not at any time heard what the holy spirit would have her do.

Growing up my parents didn't do what the Holy Spirit told them to do. They did what the bible told them to do. But the bible teaches that it is the Holy Spirit himself that teaches us what to pray for and leads us to the Word which is Jesus. This I the way to the Father. If u know Jesus u know the Father. If u don't know Jesus u don't know the Father.

We were taught a gospel growing up that was a false gospel. The bible teaches that the Holy Spirit is sent to guide us. The Holy Spirit was talked about but the focus was always on the bible and more importantly the SDA version of the bible. Which denies us the privilege of wrestling and pleading with God to show us more of his spirit. More of who he is.  Whenever someone spells out the "rules" of knowing God and following him know that it is not what the bible teaches. God can not be defined by a finite set of rules. He is living...breathing...moving.  He is God.

U see. God is so big. So powerful. So immense. His love is so pure that we can only take him in small doses. We are so sinful and impure that our very own thinking is messed up. We think we can just choose to know God. We have it all wrong!  It is God who allows the 3 breaths u just made that allowed oxygen to reach your blood so that your brain could think.

We get so enamored with our day to day accomplishments that we have a complete and utter inability to understand the very one that is driving our circulatory system.  We wrestle with proving their is a God. God doesn't wrestle with this. He simply is.

This is why Jesus came. This is why we have the Holy Spirit. This is why the Word exists. It is all part of Gods way of bridging a gap that was created thousands of years ago.

He is desperate to KNOW us. He is seeking us out. Faith is part of His love plan. It takes faith to know God. It takes faith to follow Him.

Pilly, Fill-E or Phily?

Today, I got to spend some time with a special man.

What a cool guy. Phily reminded me of my grandmother Stana. Just sweet, meek, and contemplative. I didn't understand much, but enough.

I prayed for him and gave him 5 bucks when I first came over to him. I was driving around Orlando and wanted to check out some parks. When I drove to this park I saw Phily immediately and knew that I had to give him some money.

I parked the car and walked over to him. I immediately presented him with the gift and asked him if I could pray for him. I wept as I prayed. I felt such a huge amount of brokenness for a lovely man to be at this point in his life. I didn't know anything about him, but I knew that it wasn't his dream to be at this place.

We talked for quite a while. I showed him pictures of my family, and airplane I flew, cold weather pictures of my home in Wisconsin.

Eventually I invited him to sit down. He had a warm jacket on, short beard, and had a bunch of aluminum cans in his shopping cart.

I gathered that his children left and went to Miami, and Nicaragua. He was from Cuba. I asked if he was from Havana and he said no. I didn't understand what place it was. I wished that I would've known Spanish, but I knew the language of love and that's what brought us together.

Eventually I googled a Spanish-American translator and tried communicating that way. It seemed as though he was just thankful to talk even if I didn't understand. Yet, in some ways I understood. He had regret in his eyes and a lot of resignation and sadness in his voice.

Phily was such a beautiful person. There was a baptist church next to the park and I hoped that he went there and was taken care of somewhat by the people there. He smiled when we pointed toward the church and kept saying "Iglesias".

His fingernails and hands were rough and showed someone who worked hard.

What a priveledge to spent a half hour with one of God's son's.

He said he was 75 years old. Using fingers for numbers is a universal language.

As I said my goodbyes I held back more tears. I would've spent all day with him, but I felt compelled to move on with my journey and he with his.

As I drove away we waved to each other like we had been friends for years.

The deepness of God's intimacy impresses me.

What do we have in common. I fly a multi-million dollar jet. I travel the country. He pushes aluminum cans round a square park. He reeks of alcohol at 10am.

We are both children of the Almighty God. The God of our Fathers. The God that sent us Jesus.

Phily is my friend. I hope to see him again.