I started writing a poem to my mom this morning, but it was crap. So I decided to write a few of stories instead...
My earliest memory of my mother happens to be my earliest memory period. I was three years old and the Barnes family was living in West Palm Beach, Florida. We lived in a neighborhood and had a pool out back. On this day my parents were throwing a party. There were various mothers running about patting me on the head and putting their children in bathing suits so they could swim. My older sister, Talia, got into hers and was splashing about in the water. It was so inviting. I really wanted to be in there too.
I went up to my mom and asked her if I could go swimming. Of course, she knew that meant helping me out of my clothes and into my swimsuit. She, being the loving mother that she is, got up from her lawn chair and began stripping me of my clothing. She continued to do so until there was nothing left. Then she picked me up and placed me on the top step of the pool. And there I stood, naked on the first step, hiding behind the pole as best I could.
* * *
I didn't realize my mom raised five children until I was nine years old. We were at Wal-Mart, a nine year-old's heaven. And a four year-old's, and a five year-old's, and a seven year-old's, and an eleven year-old's. The five of us scattered ourselves about this paradise, pressing all sorts of buttons and eating every sample any of the sample ladies would give us. We all returned to our mom at the same time, each of us having something to say.
"Can I get some legos?" I asked.
"Mommy, can I have this pink shirt?" Estie asked.
"Mom, can we get some macaroni and cheese?" Talia asked
"Mommy, my finger's stuck in my hair again," Emily said.
"Mommy, can we go this way?" Leah asked, pointing her finger.
We all looked at her, not hearing the others' simultaneous plea. We waited for her reply. She looked at all of us, mouth open and wide eyed. Then she burst into laughter.
I think you have to be a mother to fully appreciate this.
* * *
One summer my family lived in Matamoros, Mexico as AIM got the Gateway up and running. I remember one day in particular. I walked with my mom thru the market. My mother went about buying fresh vegetables, I held her hand and walked beside her. I must have been about five or six years old.
When my mom was satisfied with the food she'd purchased we started back home. We walked past vendors with wonderful goodies; we walked past fruit stands, we walked past souvenir stands. A lady sitting against a wall next to the fruit stand caught my mom's eye. Her son sat close by, his legs maimed. My mom stopped and looked for a moment. My eyes followed hers.
"What happened to his legs, Mommy?" I asked.
"She can't buy any food," she said. "His mommy doesn't have a job and he probably has no daddy. Many of the mommies like this break their..." she struggled with her words "...they break their child's legs," she said. I looked up at my mom, tears rolling down her cheek. "She loves him," she said, "she just doesn't know what else to do."
My mom has a true mother's heart. She gives and gives and gives. She absolutely loved raising her children. She regularly spends herself cooking wonderful meals. She plans events, consistently thinks of others above herself, seeks the Lord with all her heart, and supports a very busy husband all the while. I love you dearly, Mom and I miss you very much. See you in about a week!
I'm not very in touch with my emotions. It's hard for me to show my feelings. My heart means well, it just doesn't show very easily.
Once, about a year ago, my sisters were going into work with me (we were working at the AIM office at the time). They, as usual, had spent half the morning in the bathroom, their domain, making themselves look better. God knows what goes on in there, but fantastic noises creep through the cracks around the door suggesting grand machinery. After several hours inside that room, they hop into the car smelling all nice and looking all pretty. Well I drove the five minute trip to the office and thought I should probably comment on these things.
"Everyone looks pretty," I said very matter-of-factly as I stepped out of the driver's seat.
My sisters know me well. They know it's the rare occasion that I say this type of thing. Well they got all giddy and smiley and gave me hugs and "awe Seth"s. It's nice to get that sometimes. But all that to say I generally don't express myself very well in conversation, even more so my emotions.
* * *
My dad and spiritual dad have been going thru some good transitions recently and I feel the weight of it in my gut. It's something that comes sometimes by the Spirit and sometimes from simply hearing it from them. I wake up in the morning and stumble over my words for about thirty minutes, trying to tell God how I feel about it and trying to figure out how to pray for them.
This morning after I began the stumbling process again, God told me to go to the ducks.
*There's this park with a pond and ducks nearby. It's a great place for relaxation, prayer and reflection.
So to the ducks I went. I watched them for a while, noticing how they waddle, how they tuck their heads neatly between their wings clear behind them, how they float and use their feet to shift directions and propel themselves, and how healthy they all look.
"These ducks are never concerned," God said. "They know that today I will feed them and give them what they need. They aren't afraid of the future. And I do and will continue to take care of them. How much more my children who love me?" (Isn't that also in the Bible somewhere?) "Your fathers have given their lives for me. I watch them each day to see what they'll do and I am pleased. My hand is on them, directing them always. They will find clarity and peace. And so will you," he said.
Then I went about praising Lord and speaking in tongues.
I've been reading a bit lately. Just finished Blue Like Jazz and started The Shack today. Don Miller talks about the life of a writer in Blue Like Jazz. Authors go about reading books and writing and not feeling productive all day, he says. And they make about a dollar. I feel like I've been living the life of a writer the past several days.
Sometimes I feel called to writing. Not sure what I'd write about though. Perhaps I'd criticize other people's writing instead. Or music, or other form of media. Or food. I'd enjoy that. It's a lot easier to criticize something than to produce something.
There are people outside my window talking about someone taking this fantastic journey from San Diego, CA down here to San Jose, Costa Rica. They'll drive a van the whole way. Someone else once drove from Miami, another voice says. It took him four months. He must have taken a roundabout way, I think to myself. Maybe I should do that - take some fantastic journey.
I'm on one right now, come to think of it. But it doesn't really feel like one. It feels like I'm lying on this bed writing in my journal because I don't know what else to do with myself. Or don't want to do something else with myself.
Instead of going somewhere, meeting people at the park, or at least praying for them, I just think. And write. I think, like I am now, about how I could be doing that, but instead I'm not. And is it wrong? No. I don't think so. Unless it's unbalanced (this subject comes into play quite a bit these days). There's a healthy level of everything to be found and had. Or so I keep telling myself.
This is just one moment in my day. But it's a representation of the way I perceive my future. I don't have much of a clue what I'll do with myself. I don't even know what I'm terribly passionate about. Specifically. Like what I want to live my life accomplishing.
It seems like this whole trip has been a tearing down and reconstruction of myself. I've got the more general stuff, or I understand what I need to go after and am going after it. I know how I ought to behave and live basically. How I ought to love God and love others. And I'll be trying to get that down the rest of my life. But I have no clue what I'll do practically. Thank God I've got friends like Aaron Bruner to walk thru this with me.
I'm not freaking out. I know God'll provide the rest when I seek first his Kingdom. And that's what I'm trying to do. It's just I wish I knew my gifts so I could focus on a particular area. It seems for a while now I've been going down the list, checking off things I'm not gifted in or passionate about. For some, that gift and passion comes out naturally. Like with my sister Emily. She knows she wants to act and she's good at it. She's pursuing it and she'll get her dream. She's got it made. What a wonderful sister.
Another concern of mine: I'm a little over $1,000 short right now in my support raising for the World Race. If anyone would like to contribute, please feel free. I'm not sure about what I think of putting this on my blog. But I know some of you will care and give and so I thank you. This is the church. I welcome any opinions on the issue.
I have been in Costa Rica with the rest of the squad for a little over a week now. I must say the time here has been a pretty great difference than the whole race before. In my last blog I briefly mentioned that we'd, basically, be living here in San Jose, Costa Rica as a whole squad. From the YWAM base we have the freedom to explore any type of ministry we like or we feel the Lord is calling us.
I have been greatly conflicted on a number of issues, including the relevance of short term mission trips, the importance of emotions and thoughts and how God gives them to us to teach us, and the ease of seeking comfortability.
It is very easy for me to abuse the freedom I have in Christ. Fortunately, I've experienced the joy of serving the Lord and dying to self each day and would rather not abuse it. But man is it tempting!
My big kick now is in finding balance. I had a conversation with Gary Black our last night together about finding the balance of extravagant living and prudent living. Since that conversation I've been analyzing my own actions and how I steward the gifts God's given me. I know he'll always provide, even if I mess up. I wrote about that in my last blog. I think he loves when we mess up because it's a reminder of our humanity and his righteousness. Failure is also one of the greatest teachers. Maybe the greatest.
This month is about forming a lifestyle. It's about finding the balance in ministry and everything else; about living missions minded. I don't want to be overly righteous and become pious or overly rebellious and act irrationally. I don't want to be overly thoughtful (more of a risk for me) or overly emotional. I want to find the balance in all things: in wisdom and passion, work and relaxation, compassion and sternness, indulging and refraining, relational and reflective, peace and violence.
My hope is that I find balance in as much as I can before I get home so that it's not an issue. I hear the transition into the American lifestyle can be a doozy!
We're in Costa Rica now. We got here about a week ago. The World Race thing to do is to find a place to do ministry for a month until debrief or the month is over or you find yourself on a new continent. Well, my team got together to talk about where God is leading us.
"I got this picture of kids rumaging around in a dump," Jeanette said. "But I'm not sure if it's necessarily for this month."
"Yeah, I also had a vision of trash and children," Traci said.
"I see children playing at McDonalds," Aaron said.
And that's how it went. Nobody else had much tangible direction from the Lord. Just a bunch of, "this month isn't so much about where we're headed, it's more about how we allow ourselves to be."
I was named temporary leader as Molly traveled home for a wedding, so I went about researching options for my team. Then I had this thought: "I'll put a bunch of cities in a hat and draw one out and that's where we'll go. God can use that. They casted lots in the Bible and God was there."
Moin, Costa Rica.
Two days later I found myself walking down a dirt road that is Moin with Aaron and Traday.
Rewind...
Heather came to the leaders previously with a vision she felt was from the Lord: we'd live together as a squad in this westernized society here in San Jose (there's a TGI Fridays for goodness sakes!). Everyone would have the freedom to do with their day what they will. The idea was to simulate life at home as best we could. This way if someone didn't take initiative and really live the lifestyle of ministry there'd be people to bring them back and walk thru it with them in love.
So I'm walking down this gravel road and I have an out of body experience:
"What are you doing, Seth?"
"I'm leading my team into the great unknown... I don't know, Seth."
Then my heart and mosquitoes kept telling me more and more that the vision Heather shared is from the Lord. We found a place to pitch our tents for free, right by the beach and a resort (both certainly not as nice as they sound). My heart ran amok that day. I killed a lot of mosquitoes.
We came back pretty quickly that same day after some of the best conversation I've ever had on this whole adventure. All of us were certain of what the Lord was saying.
I learned something very important about myself upon reflection. As I said, I was going to be the fearless leader, guiding my team confidently into the great unknown. Come what may, but I know God'll provide! Look at me, I must have some pretty terrific faith huh?
I'm like a guy quick to jump off a cliff, with radical trust in the Lord. Praise the Lord for his patience and grace! There's a time for that radical trust, but man if you jump off a cliff without hearing a word from the Lord, you're going to find that the ocean is a lot more like concrete than water. This is about discovering the Lord and being a part of what he's doing rather than force faithing something.
Praise the Lord than he spoke to me and my teammates and gave us a clear vision to grab onto.
Needless to say, we're now back in San Jose waiting on the Lord each day as we transition ourselves as best we can into American society.
The World Race can be 3 things:
A fun trip around the world
A program of 11 short term mission trips
A struggle to develop a lifestyle of ministry thru a movement (and a lot of fun as well)
One of the greatest things about the World Race are the tests. It will put you in situations where your faith will be tested. Then you will stand beside yourself and see the image of God you've constructed and watch as the King obliterates it to offer you something real. I guess the truest test will come at the end: Does the lifestyle we've been trying to develop stand the test of America.
I´m in Madrid, Spain. We´ve been here since yesterday morning.
The streets are small. Half of them are brick. There are pubs everywhere and little restaurants selling chocolate con cherros. I ate those this morning. They are basically fried sticks of dough that you dip into a cup of intense, thick chocolate. Apparently real men drink the rest when the cherros are thru. If that´s the true mark of a real man, I am one.
We spent the day yesterday running around the city, searching out the best foods and museums. We went to the Picasso museum and the ¨Museo de Jamon¨(Museum of Ham). Both were pretty great.
In a few hours we´ll be on another 10 hour flight to Bogota before taking our final flight to Costa Rica. It´s quite the few days of travel.
My heart is conflicted with the leaving of Africa and entering of Central America. I´ve asked the Lord to break my heart for Costa Rica. My team and I are expecting great things.
Please pray for us; that we completely spend ourselves these last three months. For many of us, it´s a temptation to check out.
p.s. Krystle and Meg say hello. Krystle says, ¨We are going to eat... wait, what´s it called? Wait, don´t put that. You´re a dork.¨
Hey there from Nelspruit, South Africa. This morning my team and I were in Mozambique, standing on the side of the road waiting for our bus and hoping there'd be enough seats. Fortunately there were and room enough to play three games of chess with Aaron (all of which I lost) and watch a terrible movie - Jumper (please don't waste your time).
We were near Maputo, Mozambique for about a week helping with an Iris Ministries base. Tomorrow we start debriefing with Gary Black, Gift Dlamini, and Tom Sipling and in a few days we'll take off for Central America.
It'll be quite the trip:
12 hour bus ride from Nelspruit to Johannesburg, SA. (I figured a waiting time of 7 hours should be included)
Zurichà Madrid, Spain (2 hours, 15 minutes flight time; 36 hour layover). This is the fun part. I don't know what we'll do, but it will be fun.
Madridà Bogota, Columbia (10 hours, 35 minutes flight time; 8 hour layover). Hopefully more fun on the layover.
Bogota à San Jose, Costa Rica (2 hours, 10 minutes flight time)
Total travel time: 82 hours, 45 minutes
And so begins our final leg of the race in Central America. It's crazy how quickly the time has gone by, but there are still another three months.
Thank you all for your prayers, comments, and support. I appreciate you all. I just checked my support status and I only need about $1,000! Thank you to my financial supporters for your help in this. You guys are incredible and I love you for it.
You have all helped to change my life. Here's to three more months!
Cheers.
p.s. Here's a picture of me dancing (notice my finger) for the camera. I wish you had the music to go along with it.
Posted in Brokenness
by Seth Barnes, Jr.
on 4/4/2008
A few weeks ago my teammates and I watched Braveheart. I'd seen it previously, but this time it meant more to me. When the funeral scene came I felt a stirring inside of me, a type of "I know," if that makes sense.
The funeral for Moses did something to me emotionally, deep inside that I'm still working thru. It brought me to a new reality. I saw death before me and a grief like I never knew. Moses' community hasn't gotten itself into a great hurry like the rest of the world. They have each other and that's about it. I met true grief face to face again and this time it exposed a wonderful scar on my heart that didn't recognize before.
When I first saw grief in death, accompanied by utter brokenness, pathetic and bare, I did not even know what it was. Marvin and his family brought me to the edge of myself. Everything I lived for was thrown into question. I no longer knew who God was or who I was. And to top it all, I had no clue how to put all these emotions into words, much less sort them out in my mind.
God allowed Marvin and Moses to take all that I was and shatter me. I was left to either pick up the pieces, feebly putting myself back together or to leave myself behind and discover the true depth of my identity: who God intends me to be.
I think that's kind of what William Wallace went thru when he lost his wife. OK, he was partly filled with rage, but I think he also realized thru this new brokenness that there was something more to him than him. He was laid bare and there was no turning back. It was life or death. "All men die," he says. "Not all men truly live."
That's what I'm realizing. I know I'm not that important, but I can make a difference. Thru these experiences of death God led me to the edge of myself and further. It was only thru this brokenness, this true reality that I was able to realize my pathetic state. I had to get outside of myself to see who I had been.
I'm no longer trying to concern myself with what people think of me. I'm trying to learn the fullness of life and embrace it. There are adventures to be had! There is a mystery to live and a people to love.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." - Mark Twain
I'm determined that when I am on my deathbed, I won't really mind.
God's been telling me to love my teammates more. Each day at 8:00am we pray, asking the Lord what he wants us to do and where we should go and each morning he's been telling me to love my teammates and love God. To become intimate with him. Last night I couldn't find my alarm so I asked God to wake me at 5:00 so I could spend time with him. Well he did, but I went back to sleep.
It reminds me of a lot of worship songs I hear these days with stuff like, Oh God take my hand and lead me deeper into you! and all that. What a waste of time I think! God's not going to just make you into who you want to be or who he wants you to be with a snap of his finger. It takes work, and a heck of a lot of it. It takes sweat, blood, and tears. It takes a broken heart and a passion that says, "I will not back down no matter what!"
And God will test you to see where your heart is (read Deut. 8:1-2 if you don't believe me). How many people actually resist the devil when he comes at you with everything he's got while you're at your weakest? It's a shame most people beat themselves up and stay knocked down afterwards. God's not looking down with condemnation when that happens! The devil is God's devil and he allows you to be tempted to test you so that he can know where your heart is and build you up thru victories. But it all hinges on our reaction. Will you fight? And when you fail, because you will, will you thank the Lord for your humanity - a prerequisite for salvation - an rely on him?
Everything belongs. Just because we've screwed up on one thing once doesn't mean we might as well do it again. That's the way the devil had me bound for a long, dark period of my life. What's the difference if I give in to my temptation again? The differences are time and Kingdom.
As a Christian, I am called to see that God's Kingdom comes on earth as it is in heaven. I've got to "get over my bad self," as my father says, before I can start that. I've got to realize that it's not about me, that I am a slave to Christ, before he can fully use me. If Satan could've kept me bound in sin for another day, that's another day away from God's Kingdom being realized in me. If he can create just one or two strongholds in your life, he's got you. The devil doesn't care so much that you go to heaven as much as the reason why you are living on earth. If he can distract you, even by heaven, then he's won. But you become focused on bringing God's Kingdom to earth, that's what it's all about. Making disciples... warriors... fanatics for Christ... Christians.
If you thought Christianity was a game of numbers - get more people into heaven than hell - you're terribly mistaken. Hell would've already won! Jesus says narrow is the road to heaven and few find it. Why are you living? Are you taking back Kingdom? Or are you too busy sitting behind a desk, earning more money, maintaining your relationship with your computer, watching movies, and planning this weekend's happenings to see that you are the will of God and he is just waiting to use you? Do you think life is just a big wait to get to heaven... and enjoy life as best you can until you die? Man, you don't know the meaning of enjoy until you've lived for the Lord.
"Get busy living or get busy dying." - Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption
"Can I get some legos?" I asked.
So to the ducks I went. I watched them for a while, noticing how they waddle, how they tuck their heads neatly between their wings clear behind them, how they float and use their feet to shift directions and propel themselves, and how healthy they all look.
Sometimes I feel called to writing. Not sure what I'd write about though. Perhaps I'd criticize other people's writing instead. Or music, or other form of media. Or food. I'd enjoy that. It's a lot easier to criticize something than to produce something.
I have been greatly conflicted on a number of issues, including the relevance of short term mission trips, the importance of emotions and thoughts and how God gives them to us to teach us, and the ease of seeking comfortability.
So I'm walking down this gravel road and I have an out of body experience:
Hey there from Nelspruit, South Africa. This morning my team and I were in Mozambique, standing on the side of the road waiting for our bus and hoping there'd be enough seats. Fortunately there were and room enough to play three games of chess with Aaron (all of which I lost) and watch a terrible movie - Jumper (please don't waste your time).
The funeral for 
It reminds me of a lot of worship songs I hear these days with stuff like, Oh God take my hand and lead me deeper into you! and all that. What a waste of time I think! God's not going to just make you into who you want to be or who he wants you to be with a snap of his finger. It takes work, and a heck of a lot of it. It takes sweat, blood, and tears. It takes a broken heart and a passion that says, "I will not back down no matter what!"