beggar

Now I can't remember if this was Brennan Manning's interpretation of the scripture or he was quoting someone else....but I loved how he talked about the meaning of "the poor in the spirit" ...he said that this can also be interpreted as Beggars at the door of God's mercy.

I love that.

I have been chasing a career, and even been chasing "ministry" aspirations for so many years that I think on this rainy day on a friday, a 30 year old, that's not young if you're 20...and not old if you're 40....I'm just tired. And I also "know" I shouldn't do that, but I do...what up with that?!

On this rainy day in March I reflect on being a Christian, and I just get overwhelmed at all that I'm not, and it makes me think that why I'm so attracted to "the ragamuffin gospel." I obsess over my have not's and failures...i think it's one thing to go..".don't do that"...and have faith in that "Jesus loves me for who I am, not for who I'm not"...but today I find myself begging for the gift of faith to believe that...to be confident in that...

This process of making a movie about Rich is a healthily strange one. It's the movie industry, yet has nothing to do with any career aspirations i have whatsoever. I love that. And doing a movie about your hero is a bonus, but the reason he is my hero, is he's heroic where I struggle...he's strong where I'm weak...he's brave where I'm timid etc....and the healthy part of doing a movie on him...brings me back to the humble posture of a beggar...hey I am in need...and if you would just show kindness...an inkling of compassion in this area...I can get by...but if you don't I won't...that's why I'm not asking...no, I'm begging.

So I realize that these have all been a.d.d. ramblings...so let me wrap up with this...what am I begging for? a heart I once had, that now feels like a distant childhood memory...and strangely I think was...

I remember being on tour with "the color green" and we were what was named "the poor camp in ohio"...or the "dirt poor camp'...I can't remember...I only remember they had some gross bologna pizza...anyway i remember i was ranting after some show we did...and I don't really remember anything i said...I'm sure it wasn't very profound...maybe emotional...but not profound...but what I do remember is my heart...and how free and joyous it felt...I remember it was afternoon...and the sun was pouring in through this chapel through the large window spaces...and I remember the only thing i cared about was Christ. Maybe how David felt when he stripped naked and danced in the streets, or when Peter said, hang me upside down on the cross because I'm not worthy enough to hang the same way Jesus did, or maybe st. francis giving away everything to go to the middle of nowhere and build a church even though everyone thought he was crazy, or shane claiborne starting the simple way, or mark driscoll starting mars hill church, or erwin mcmanus writing a book, or Paul writing all those wonderful letters that became scripture, or billy graham preaching the gospel, or mother theresa felt when she would take the worst shoes so everyone else could have better shoes, or how moses felt when he was crossing the red see, or how the isrealites felt when the saw manna fall from heaven, or when my grandma would be in prayer at 5 in the morning in my living room growing up (and maybe even now in her lucid state), or how randy wheeler felt driving to california, or how I feel even now as I write this blog...this inkling that all that really matters is loving God, being faithful to Jesus, and loving the hell out of everybody that I come in contact with. Especially my enemies, for how could I ever learn to love my enemies, if I had none?

But the sun's not pouring through the windows today. I'm in California and experiencing a seattle rain. And I'm not the 20 year old I once was so full of zeal, I'm a 30 year old who looks and feels like he's 40 and spent a part of his life being a prodigal and part being in awe of the kabod. So I find myself begging today, begging for the sun to pour through the windows of my heart, soul, mind, and weakness. Oh lord, save me. Bring me back to that place that only cares about you, and because of that I care about sooooo much more, but with healthy eyes of surrender, peace, and joy...

Begging you Abba,

your prodigal ragamuffin-david leo

inside joke

I like inside jokes. When I’m involved.

I was “tagged” in some facebook pics from 94, I was 14 (looking at me at 14 feels like the way i was dressed was an inside joke with myself), when I was at a camp in Hillsboro, In. That sounds like a town that would be in Indiana. The camp’s name was Twin Lake. I look like a total idiot, but then again, I still do. I wonder if when I’m 80 and I look back at pictures of me when I’m 30 and think the same thing. When I’m old, gray, imobile, and wearing a diaper. Will I be cool then? Was I cool when I was 14. Am I cool now? Man, I hope not. The pressure that comes with cool, Uggh.

Funny sidenote, for the 3 people that read my blog, my friend Brinson said yesterday, “I think you’re the first friend I’ve been around that has clinical A.D.D….” I have never been diagnosed, but it don’t take much, whether it be having a beer with me or reading this blog, that it’s probably true. And why I can write a blog everyday straight for a week, than take a year off: I get distracted.

Where was I? hey, look at that bird? Where was I, oh, pictures of when I was 14. Anywho, I had this extreme rush of nostalgia when I looked at those pictures. Steve Martin, had a similar experience, in his book “Born Standing Up” he talks about years and years after his success going back to Knotts Berry Farms, where when he was 18-22 he would perfrom on the stage at the park, when he returned he looked at old pics of himself, got on stage, and felt the air of familiarity. When life and Comedy, wasn’t so serious.

What meant so much to be as a 14 year old getting picked up by the church van in beechgrove, In and driving west to hillsboro, which I think was only a 45 minute drive, but at the time felt like a trip across the country, like I was going to a far off magical land. Home life wasn’t always the most fun for me, with the exception of surprise hang out times with my cousins, an occasional birthday, and Christmas, I guess…but for me the highlight of my year was always: Camp. Man, even now a rush of nostalgia runs through me as I remember, a life for me, even for a brief week ever summer (from 7-18) that wasn’t so serious. It was loving, safe, fun, and camp flings weren’t bad either:-)Classic. (warning inside joke: no purple)

I think there is something deeper that has given me the sugar rush of nostalgia. There was something lovely, and deeply moving and meaninful about my 14 year old heart. When I was innocent (not really, but as the old expression goes), when i wasn’t chasing a career (which is the grossest thing currenlty about me), when I simply cared about loving Jesus, people, and frankly just being a kid. I had so much fun at camp. I loved every minute of it. the van ride, eating at Mcdonalds (breakfast) on the way there, finding out which cabin I was in, who was my counselor (this was either good or bad…was he the strict one or the funny one) Once I had the funny one and he gave me his hat, I wore that thing for years. Wow, I haven’t thought about that in 15 years…I loved the games, the friends, the inside jokes, the candy, I loved going to chapel, I (no remember this was a baptist camp in the 90′s) I…me…david leo schultz…even loved dressing up for chapel…not that i had nice clothes…but we had to wear pants to chapel…i think my last few years we were allowed to wear jeans…but no shorts! Where in the bible were shorts unholy…ahhhh religion…you sneaky little bastard….anyway, but I did love it, I loved devotions. This is where I think my heart, and who the hidden, and true david was born, in the still quiet moments of individual devotion time at camp. The simplistic time of reading my bible, and underlining anything that stuck out, and praying bold childlike prayers of wanting Jesus to be my everything, not because my parents were christians, not because i needed rellgion, but because I genuinely believed, somehow even as a 7 year old, then 8, then, 18, then 25, now 30…somehow…by some miraculously genourous eye opening experience in my spirit, I know that the unconditional grace and love that somehow was the only hope I had as a 7 year old, and not much as changed, I’m 30 and still know that this is what I need. But oh where, oh where do I find it except in Jesus. Religion in and of itself, nope. Legalistic Christianity. Nope. Self. Nope. Even in harmless mondane activity of any kid, no matter how enjoyable. Nope. I’ve only found it in the my life quote by Manning “God loves you for who you are, not for who you’re not, cuz none of us are what we should be.”

Even though I tend to make life about so many things. Being funny, being competative, being argumentative, being in love, being in pusuit of my dreams and ambitions, even being “a christian”…but I’ve never found more comfort than in just being God’s, being loved by him, as I did that summers in Hillsboro Indiana at Twin Lakes Camp, as I sat Indian style, looking up at the clouds smiling and praying a childlike prayer of gratefullness for camp, for Jesus…as I imagine St. Francis did as he took a break from building the church. As I did was I was 14, as I did when I was 25, as I do now…the only difference is that the older I get the worse my Christian Resume looks, the more my failures, sins, and people I did not love well are added to my failure list…but thank God, I believe God will not look over my resume when I get to heaven…as Manning put’s it…I am convinced that on Judgement day God will ask me one and only one question…did you beleive that I loved you.

I have a slightly different picture of what will happen, almost as if it is an inside joke between me and God, and as personal and intimate, hard, and beautiful as it will be for me, is the same completely individual experience that it will be for those that Christ knows…I believe on that fateful day Jesus will see me, smile, and hug me, he will kiss me on the forhead, and through his compassion he will communicate his love as if to say, see I told ya…and through that same tenderness it will fly through the pages of my past, destroying both my collection of vices and virtues, and go, you are saved because I saved you, you are loved, because I am Love.

Oh, Lord thank you for Twin Lakes camp and having an inside Joke, called underserved loved, that I’m still trying to figure out the punchline. Amen

Thanks for reading.

Be God’s,

David

Focus

I remember talking to a Pastor in LA, and talking about feeling lost, and he gave me some advice. Advice that I still hold onto today, like a sentimental scrap piece of paper that holds both nostalgia and deep wisdom, that you treasure if don’t outright verge on worship. Not that, that’s a bad thing, as long as what you’re worship, at the center is ultimately Christ.

The advice he gave me was that when he feels lost, looking for meaning, he’ll find a way to serve, to do something for somebody else, but the example he gave put a microscope on the heart of serving someone else, directly to the heart. The simplistic example he gave was cleaning someone’s toliet with a toothbrush, and he said just focus on that, focus for a few seconds on just that one spot, that one dirty spot, and making it clean, not for yourself, but for the one who’s toliet your cleaning, and somehow this simple act of service will draw your heart to peace.

In days of both pure excitement, and hardship, I pull out this memory and remember what I feel is truly the heart Christ, loving others is the best way to love yourself, enjoy life, attain a pure joy and peace for your life.

Be God’s

David Leo Schultz

Arcade Fire in my soul

Arcade fire in my soul

My favorite Arcade Fire song is “Wake Up”.

I beyond love it. I have ever since my roommate back in 2004 or 2005 let me listen to it, in our beyond horrible apartment in Van Nuys, CA. Horribly small. Horrible. It didn’t make it more spacious when i tried to build a loft which took up half the room. How’d it go? I’m not a carpenter.

The song itself stirs my soul, which based on the progression of my blog, seems like it’s fitting for where I and life, as in my life, are at. The music itself gives this adventurous feeling to my soul that something is upon the horizon, as if a sunrise is coming upon the dark shadows in a desolate dreary valley. This is how I feel. I feel excited and hopeful.

Things aren’t easy, things matter of fact are downright painful. If my life were a movie, I’ve got some villians that are downright dispicable. I’m way to freaking sensitive. I don’t know why I’m this way. It’s embarrassing admitting it, but if you’ve known me for 5 minutes you know this to be true. I’m also a complete jerk. I’m complicated I guess. If you say something I don’t like I’m likely to shun you or punch you in the face, but I’ll feel really bad about it, I might even cry about it. Cry that I’m sinful and capable of such anger and nastiness in my soul. I wouldn’t really punch you, but there’s a few I’m thinking about punching today, if I’m quite honest. Or at least as honest that I want to be in the blogosphere. Maybe honest isn’t the word, open…open’s the word.

Anyway I guess I started writing this blog tonight is that I do feel hope, and listening to Aracade fire, even as I type these words, is reminding me of the hope that I feel. The hope that even in the dark and dreary valley, filled with villians and obstacles. I feel hope, hope for a better tomorrow, a better year than last, a better David, than even I have ever known or knew myself. Which would be a shock, because I know myself pretty well. But I really want to be shocked. I hope I’m shocked for the better, not worse. We’ll see.

I only half mean what I’m about to say, but I think I’m growing up a bit in this area of hard work, sensitivity, and villians. I’ve come to realize that villians, pain, trials, the nagging sense, born out of my discontentment, that what I have isn’t enough, the sin-even, until I die maybe 30 or 2 years from now, these things will be present in my life, but I feel I am on to something lately, maybe it’s maturity (I hope not, that’s not a very fun word, I’ve never liked it) let’s call it a better handle on things, lets call it strength…I feel as though I am getting stronger in handling things. I don’t have to feel like crap, if I am choosing to do things the right, wise, or holy way. The pain will be there, the villians will be lurking in the shadows, like a wolf in sheeps clothing, the discontentment, even my own sin–but day by day, step by step I sense that I am growing in HIS strength, and I hope to grow stronger, braver, more dare I say mature. Nope. I still don’t like that word.

In any case, I really hope to be brave enough to let go of certain friends, and certain friends that claim to be friends, but don’t see that they don’t want me to succeed, they want to use me. I know I’ve done that to people. Oooh, I’m gross, but it’s true. Sadly. In any case I really hope to be more, better, sronger, I pray for God’s enabling grace to get me through the seasons ahead, they are busy, and distracting, I hope with whatever work Jesus/the Father/The Holy Spirt, or however the hell that whole Trinity thing works that while I due my duty and work hard, that Jesus would set my heart free from the yoke of want, or at the very least he would baptize by current wants, dreams, and desires, that they would die and ressurect into a holy set of desires, dreams, and wants that only really care about what only really matters: Loving God, and my Neighbors. That’s something to hope for.

Be Gods,

David Leo Schultz

"verge of a miracle"

The man I'm making a movie about is Rich Mullins. When he play and intro the song "verge of a miracle" he would describe it as he was this big recording artist, with this big contract, making this big record...and then he goes to play at this retreat, about a boy who was suicidal and had shot himself in the stomach 6 months before this retreat. And as he's starting to play this song he says, this is for people that shoot themselves in the stomach.

I've never shot myself in the stomach, but I feel like I have metaphorically and and spiritually. I've had no gun, and no bullet to be tempted with (although I've been no stranger to those thoughts), but I in a sense have been the gun, and have had many bullets to choose from: sin, dishonesty, tendency to wear masks, cowardiceness, people pleasing, self absorbtion, self focus, weighing too much on my vices and my virtues, worshiping my dreams versus the giver of dreams, I could go on, and I'm sure you could both for yourself, and if you knew me you could go on for hours about my metaphorical bullets. Don't forget this David, you'd say, and I'd laugh, and go "oh yeah, thanks."

But as I sit here, and see some of my friends living in the gutter failure, depression, and self absorbtion , some in the celebration of well deserved success, some drunk, some sober, some christian, some not, some happy, some pretending to be happy, and I ponder on my own history of me. Thankful a bit, not as much as I should be. Whenever I think of my own lack of greatfulness I think of brennan manning's quote "The sign of trust, is the attitude of gratefullness" (I realize i spelled greatfullness two different ways and still got it wrong...get off my back:-) ...)

Anyway as I sit her...pondering, thinking blah blah blah...I'm...well if i'm real about it, I'm sitting on my couch, after working out for the first time in months , needing a shower and writing this blog, but as I sit here I'm looking at my blinds, and watching the sorely missed sunlight peeking through the clouds, through my fence, and through my closed blinds, and it reminds me that there's hope. That I have not been forgotten, and that no matter how out of shape, or gross looking, or how big of a failure or success i think I am, and cannot hide from the humbling and dangerous love of God.

And I have a lot of hopes and dreams for the future. They are contaminated, because they involve me, and I'm contaminated because I'm not perfect. I do have a dream of absolute perfection in every area of my life, especially with completely forgetting myself and totally loving others, especially my enemies, cuz their the hardest...but I don't think perfection will come until I perfect and unconditionally fall in love with God. i know God loves me unconditionally, but I just wish I could return the favor.

Anway, I am smiling, and euphoric...maybe because I just worked out, but I don't think it's that shallow, I think it's something deeper. I think it's what Jesus is smiling about when he looks at me right now..."David is on the Verge of a Miracle"

As rich used to say when he'd sign autographys...Be God's

On the verge of a miracle,

David Leo Schultz

"Cowboy up"

A common phrase for men. I personally like when Bruce Willis said it in "Tears of the Sun", of coarse I'm a Bruce Willis nut.

I guess this is more of a follow up to my last entry, but how do I cowboy up, as a broken person. If I was just brave, and used to fear nothing, it's not as sexy. If I was just strong, and never weak, it's not as impressive. If I was whole always without redemption, where would compassion, mercy, and grace be found in my life?

Anywho, while I think that I can be a wuss, fearful, timid, sinful, a bleeding heart, a recluse, an introvert, a sensitive sissy. There's something else in me, that is an overcomer, a vengence in my heart, a passionate warrior, a force not to be reckoned with, some of it is awe inspiring, some of it is even sexy, some of it, if not most is born out of pain.

I maybe be opening up, a bit much, but since I only have 4 readers, i think it's okay. A scene in a movie that makes me cry every time I see it is "Punch Drunk Love" starring Adam Sandler and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson (one of the best on the planet by the way, a flawless film director)...any who...when Adam Sandler was pushed and pushed and pushed through the redicules and taunts of his sisters, Adam grabbed a hammer and broke the sliding glass door....I'm even tearing up as I think about it.

I feel like that. Not that I'm going to grab a hammer and break a sliding glass door...or maybe i will one day...something to hope for i guess...I do have this propensity to be a door mat, and I feel it, this "don't mess with me" thing inside me...it pops up it's ugly head from time to time...and sometimes it's mean...and sometimes it's totally called for and sexy.

I remember this story I heard once...from a friend...and a Christian...and he told a story, with a surprise ending...surprise, I guess, because it came from him....or maybe the context in which he was telling the story...but anywho...he was in line at subway and this older lady was in front of him rediculing the sandwich maker about getting the wrong cookie...the older lady wouldn't let it go...she would...not....let...it....go....finally my friend got in this lady's face and called her out on being mean to the sandwich maker...and kept saying..."lady it's just a cookie"...and after he told the story he said...I don't do that enough...stand up for people...I don't do that enough...

I've never forgot that story...it's stood out in my mind...I don't do that enough...I don't do that enough for myself...I've always felt like there was a difference between humility (considering others before yourself) and being a doormat. but what more of a doormat could you been then laying down your life and letting someone murder you for the sake of another? (Jesus)

Apart of man up, that is a stirring within, is fleeing from temptation, not just sitting there, but actually escaping the clutches, and even if your not a Christian, I know temptation can sometimes feel like an exclusively christian word...what is robbing you of life? escape from that, run with a fury from that, and run to what gives you life, true life, life that isn't mascaraded my momentary pleasure or temporary joy, but a truly fulfilling life...

I think of the image in "Twister" when the tornado chasers tied themselves to a pole when the twister destroyed the barn and they're holding on with all they got. Run yes, but if there is no escape, hold on to what is imoveable for dear life...hold on tight...and for those that dare trust in Jesus, I think you'll find He'll hold on tight, if you let him...

Right now in most areas of my life, I feel like I've got one more round, I'm beat up, brusied, and in some half coma from the last 8 years of my life...I'm bleeding, tired, worn out, and with all the angst, anger, desire not to give up, hating to loose, vengence, hunger, wanting one more round, don't wanna let the bad guys win, something to prove, fighting the good fight, I wanna get up, man up, yell out a bruce willis quip and fight, not give up, all the while God's power is made perfect in my weakness, so whether or not I have strength or am ready, it is time to man up, get up and keep heading towards the light at the end of a dark, and frightening tunnel...

Be Gods,

David Leo Schultz

where did I go?

When I think of the Bible and remember how it began…it began with God declaring everything good…but when he created man and woman He said it was really good.

When I think of myself, I remember a David, a David who was carefree and honest. A David who smiled.

A David who laughed, a David who was bold, quick tempered, but not hardened.

I’m a tender hearted guy. I think some of that is a virtue, some of it is a vice. I think why I am a sensitive, tenderhearted guy. Is because within my 30 year old body, I have a 9 year old broken child within me. When I think of people that are broken themselves, in need of love, grace, healing themselves who were vessels of the pain in my life…colaborers in my brokenness, I feel both intense resentment, bitterness, and anger…and I feel mercy, pitty, love for…sometimes.

I often wonder who I’d be or where I’d be if I wasn’t broken. Not just in the christianese “broken” sense of the word broken, which at first glance could be taken as just a sinful screw up, but broken in half by life and people. Broken by the sin of others, and lack of care, lack of knowledge of how to raise a kid, lack of knowledge in how to be a friend, lack of knowledge how to not be selfish.

I’m able to feel mercy for my enemies, mascarading as friends and family, and concerned aquaintances… sometimes (not as much as I should)…but I do sometimes when I see that I’m just as broken, as the broken people who broke me.

I dream of a David, who wasn’t so broken. I wonder what my mornings would be like, how I’d eat my meals, what fun I might have?I wonder what my job would be? I wonder who’d still be friend, I wonder what new friends I’d have, or depending on my healthiness and boldness I’d have, what friends wouldn’t stick around.

I wonder and dream about a David, who’s not a people pleaser, who’s tender and mild. A David who is less selfish, and more compassionate.

I desire to be more, but in most ways I desire to be less. I desire to be like Jesus truly, and less like the broken little kid who’s about 30 years away from being a grumpy old man.

I know in some ways we are called to judge, and some ways were not. Which is a whole other topic, but I do think it is funny how I judge other people, how I judge myself, or other people judge each other…It seems like it is time and place doesn’t it. The one judging his friend, neighbor, or enemy five years earlier or later maybe was in the same boat or will be one day.

How free, and wonderful it might be in the people in our life were really understanding. There’s a few out there I’ve met. Some are Christians, even.

David, sweet David, let me pray for you. Abba, help David experience your free love. Let him know how much and how hard you run with your compassion. Grab him Abba, give him the gift of faith that has fixed eyes on You. Let him not care what anyone thinks except You. Let him not compromise or care about himself, let him be determined to live and be free to be the David you had in mind when you said, “And then I created David, and he is really good.”

Thanks for reading.

Be God’s

David Leo Schultz