For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been working for the last 3.5 months at Shaw Cable. (and in case you are wondering, when I’m off work, my rate is $60/hr as an independant contractor). I’m doing Television Support over the phone. It’s quite a change of pace and has stretched me in areas that I  haven’t been stretched for a while.

When I’m not at work, I’m either in Nanaimo helping with a new Church Plant; or in Duncan with my parents.  The church is in the process of starting a Dream Centre Naniamo, which, is very exciting.

I keep on reminding myself that ‘this is my calling’, I try not to look at my life at Shaw Cable as being against my life as a Pastor. Rather it is an expression of it. That God has called me to be a Pastor, and right now, that means I work at Shaw cable.

Anyways, since I’m on my break. I should go as the phone will be ringing soon.

Apparently, it is becoming known in my family that I’m a bit of a nomad and wanderer (which I see no major issues with). So I found myself running from here to there all the way on my trip.

I left Vancouver Island last week on tuesday (july 26th) after stopping by my sister’s work to get a quick haircut and say hi. She’s a hairdresser so I enjoy the added benefit that this provides to my fashion. And I couldn’t hand a trip to ontario with my hair being annoyingly long in the heat. From there I hopped on the ferry to the mainland and managed to catch an hour earlier ferry. This meant that I wasn’t showing up at my friend’s in Abbotsford at 11pm. So I actually got to do more than just crash their place.

My plan was to leave Abby by 7:30am, but it seems like there are always little things that delay me. Like breakfast, good conversation, etc. And what I’ve begun to notice is that in my life I am either REALLY early, or running late. I finally got thru the Abbotsford border at 8:30 and headed south towards seattle. I had been running around and hadn’t had any time to get my car’s oil changed so I decided to do that in bellingham at the walmart since my car was screaming “CHANGE OIL SOON” at me.

That took 2 hours and then I was on the road again. Fortunately my walmart detour wasn’t a complete waste as I was able to get some supplies and food to last me my three day adventure across the continent. On a side note: Canada’s prices for food are way higher than the US.

Now what you need to know, is that I usually travel with someone and with the sole purpose of getting to my destination as quickly as possible. In this case, I had a tight schedule but I was alone, so I had more freedom within the boundaries of time.

Well, my first day I made fairly good time. But I decided that instead of stopping for the night, I would drive as far as I could, pull over and sleep and then keep on going. This was for 2 reasons, 1) I was budget travelling and wanted to reduce the costs of the trip and 2) I wanted to make some time up.

So I drove, I drove and I drove and I drove. I made it through Idaho, Montana, and North Dakota. I had just crossed into Minnesota when I passed a state trooper and realized that I was going too fast and that He had caught me. No arguing, I just took the ticket and continued on my journey.

Thursday night, I made it out of minnesota and into wisconsin. I had planned on making it all the way to madison, but that just wasn’t going to happen. So about 2 hours outside of St. Paul I stopped at a hotel for which I had a coupon.

The next morning, bright and early I headed on my way. Fortunately for my caffeine addiction I was able to find a starbucks every day. Before Long I was in Illinois. And I was getting frustrated by the toll highways and the amount of construction. So, when I reached chicago, I pulled into an “oasis” and looked at a map.

I said to myself, “It won’t be that much longer if I take the non-toll route, and besides I’ve always wanted a closer look at chicago.”

Lesson #1: Stick to the plan and go with the GPS. The GPS knows Best.

About 2 min’s onto the non-toll route (I94?) I hit traffic.

But what was I to do now? I was stuck in it, so I continued on. Stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Now, this is where I started to get annoyed. Why? Because people weren’t driving nicely. They were literally bumper to bumper and not letting people in. Which means that traffic slows to a stand still. So I was getting fed up. Then I started to pray. I asked God for patience, because it’s a fruit of the spirit. And that helped for about 4.5 seconds. Then I started to pray for Favour. I said to God, “God, you’ve called me to walk in favour, well in this case drive, and this isn’t favour. Waiting in traffic isn’t favour!”

Apparently God listened, because traffic moved. And That was ok for about 30 seconds. Then I prayed again, “God I need more favour, in fact I don’t just want favour for me. I want favour for all of them. Because when I walk (or drive) in your favour those around me get blessed to. So God, give all these other people stuck in traffic your spirit and your favour too.”

Well one thing led to another, and my time in traffic became a time or prayer and intercession for the city of chicago. At first it was selfish, but then it became more than that. And as I continued to drive, I felt like God was revealing to me his heart for the city of Chicago. There was lots that I prayed, mostly that God’s spirit of repentance would be poured out, because the Father’s heart is for his kids to come home.

But as I continued I found myself finally out of traffic and it was like the Holy Spirit whispered, “Get off the Highway” So i kept on driving.

Then I heard the nudge “Caleb, take the next exit”, really??? “CALEB… TAKE THE NEXT EXIT”. So I did. I came to a stop light and thought I should turn right. But I felt the need to turn left, so I did. I saw in my mind a picture of a church on the corner of an intersection on the right hand side, and there on my right hand side was a church.

So I found parking and went to look for the pastor.

When I got in, i found three people inside the building. One turns and looks at me and says “Can I help you?”. My response is: “I’m looking for the pastor.” The Lady says, “that’s me.”

I start explaining why I’m there, and she’s got the look of: Great another whack job. One thing leads to another, and I start sharing with her my adventure into traffic and to Her church’s door. I find out that the things that I’m praying were accurate and that I’ve landed in the worst area of Chicago, and probably the United States (for murders that is).

I end up praying with her, and find it hard to leave. But in the end, Because I followed the leading of the Holy Spirit, listened to God. I got stuck in traffic and got to meet an incredible person with a heart for Jesus.

And I finally ended up at my destination in ontario at 2:30 am.

What I did notice is people’s reactions. It was subtle. I’ve been down-town Van quite a few times, but this time was slightly different. Traffic was different. And although it was quite late in the day, it felt like it was a very early morning (picture 6:00 am).

WE ARE CANUCKS - Especially this Guy

The following night, my venturing out in the world brought be back down alongside those same boards. Those boards that were covering up the evidence of mayhem. Those boards which people people had begun to cling to, sign their names to, screaming “WE ARE CANUCKS”. It was like the people of the city were passionately attempting to tame the same passion that had been unleashed the night before. (but isn’t that what happens when we unleash something, we desperately chase after it trying to catch it.)

Here’s what I really noticed. The passion that was coming out of the city. It was expressed everywhere. It seemed like people had come out to try and prove a point: “WE ARE CANUCKS”. This phrase had become the anthem. Then it dawned on me. As I passed those boards veiling destruction a second time I realized, ‘this is a word riot.’

A word riot. That’s right, a WORD RIOT! Where two nights previous people had thrown bricks, now people were throwing their words. “F-YOU RIOTERS” “We’re sorry tourist”. But most of all were the pictures. The posters. The propaganda.

There were posters that said: “WE ARE CANUCKS – except this jerk” and featured a picture of a rioter. Then there was a poster that said: “WE ARE CANUCKS – especially this guy” and featured a picture of someone cleaning up the mess that had been left.

Then I saw the garbage. And that’s when it hit me. Two groups of people, with so much in common, and so much the same. One group rioted with aggressive acts, big, demonstrative, meaningless. One group aggressively rioted back with pungent words, big, demonstrative, meaningless. So close, so almost the same. Both riots in themselves. Both passionate acts.

Here’s the big idea. How is the person who riots with words any different than the person who riots with bricks. I watched as people took pictures of themselves in front of boarded up stores. They signed their names, wrote nice notes. But walked passed the garbage that was dropped or dumped on the street at their feet.

They said they loved their city. But they were willing to ignore the daily acts of injustice that happen all around them. Everything from the trash on the sidewalk to the homeless person lying in a filthy sleeping bag. If you really want to demonstrate what your city is made of don’t sign your name to a billboard. Start small. Pick up some trash. Find someone to help. Stop the word riot.

I found myself today doing something other than that which I should have been doing: wandering the Internet. I really should be doing ‘proper’ work. Planning for Sunday, packing boxes, filing, you know all those “Pastoral” things. But instead I found myself stumbling across my brother’s blog.

Now to many of you this will seem a natural occurrence, but you must realize something very vital: although I am a member and contributor of the Blog-o-sphere, I very rarely actually peruse it. Today however, this was not the case.

Today, after stumbling across a long-ago college friend’s blog, my fingers seemingly typed “martyzylstra.com” into the navigation bar of my browser. When I hit enter, I seemingly, like Alice, fell down the rabbit hole into my brother’s world.

My brother, the ever-artist, never ceases to amaze me.  A while ago, my common critique about his song-writing was that it was shallow, that it needed more meaning. IE: was U2 popular because Bono was outspoken or was Bono outspoken because U2 was popular?

Over the last year, I have watched my brother as he has been on a journey. This journey has spoken to me and I have seen things that I never saw before.

Personally, I quite frequently question inspiration. I’m very big on inspiration, as there are unique moments that create some of the most elusive masterpieces. Today, as I pondered Marty’s blog, I was inspired; to write again. But mostly to ask the question: what inspires you?

Sharon’s back was only the beginning, there has been much more. More backs restored, someone’s hearing healed. See some of the stories @ http://www.porthardychurch.com/

Part One of the Experience:

Part Two of the experience:

Awe and wonder dancing

This is the video of my friend Sharon dancing. She has NO formal training in ballet, but God healed her back and caused her to dance in freedom.

I don’t know where to begin. I have been on an incredible journey of faith that has led me to some very strange places and doing some incredibly strange things. But tonight all of my understandings of God were blown out of the water.

I have been attending healing meetings (for a lack of a better title) in Port Hardy since last Saturday. These meetings had been planned for a while and since our church in Port Alice has a connection with Port Hardy I have had very little hesitation in helping out and partnering with them.

Now being completely transparent, these meetings have been out of my comfort zone. I may be a Pentecostal pastor, but I’m not always comfortable with some of the ‘manifestations’ of the Holy Spirit. Things like people falling over or experiencing uncontrollable laughter. And these meetings are not the exception. Some of the things that have happened are just down right weird. But because I know the people and I know that there is sincerity behind what is happening.

The sincerity isn’t the only thing that has brought legitimacy to what God has been doing. When someone can barely walk into the church, needs the help of someone else, AND two canes, but then runs out of the church at the end of the night, you start to realize that God is doing something unique. By the way, this man had broken his back and had 24 spurs on his spine, Saturday God healed him, and now he’s running! And make that STILL running.

Tonight however, everything I knew and understood about God was blown out of the water.

It began last night. My friend Sharon, the youth pastor in the hosting church, was prayed for and fell down. When she got up, she made the comment that she thought her back was healed. She has experienced back problems as long as I have known her, about 6 years. But despite her encounter with God she was somewhat skeptical.

Then this morning, after talking to her again, she was more confident that God had done a work. Her back was better and she didn’t have any pain. That brings us to this evening’s service.

Tonight’s service stretched me the most. It was Pentecostal, charismatic, whatever word you want. Just know that it was weird. But God was doing seemingly the same things that he had been the nights before. Because, lo and behold, Sharon ended up on the floor in hysterical laughter. This wasn’t too far off from what had happened so far.

At least 10 min’s later, she began to make strange movements. Almost like convulsions, but she was TOTALLY cognoscente (in her right mind), so we knew she was physically ok. Over the next half hour she began to make movements into what can be best described as a combination of ‘stretches’ and ‘birthing-like’ motions. After a while someone came up and explained their concern because she seemed to be in pain. My statement was, I think God is doing something because she hasn’t asked us to stop and it’s like she’s birthing something. Sharon then made the statement that God was stretching her, and the person who was praying for her stated that God was healing her back.

By this time it was now 11’oclock and the majority of people had left. And apparently God was just beginning. Sharon now was upright and going through dance stretches, that looked somewhat like ballet. Now, I know what some might think, but Sharon only had 1 year of ballet when she was very young. In fact, earlier today she explained that she had forgotten most of the moves.

We watched as Sharon for the next half an hour was twisted and contorted in these stretches. The guest speaker’s daughter, Michelle Echterling and I, both have a fair amount of Ballet training and we started recognizing more and more. Finally I made the comment that she was going to be up off the floor and dancing soon.

5 Minutes later, we stood amazed as Sharon began to dance around the room. It was RAW, but more than that it was accurate. She was dancing with the grace of a professional. There was purpose and precision behind the dance. More over she continued for the next 15 min’s through three songs off of a cd.

We turned off the music and she moved back to stretching. Michelle and I recognized that she was  starting through a bar routine, so we put her on the back of a chair to make her more comfortable, and she continued. Michelle was in tears as God by His spirit was leading Sharon’s body through the art of dance. She was performing stretches that Michelle a trained dancer can’t even do.

The music came back on, and she started to dance again. We turned off the music and Sharon then began to Pray/dance over me. She was laying on hands, anointing me all in a dance led completely beyond her control. It was CRAZY! And that’s when it ended. 2.5 hours later.

So God speaks our language. Michelle and I are blown away at what we witnessed: God taking over someone’s body, while they were still cognoscente, leading them to dance in ways that only a trained professional could perform. Ok… that’s not the best part. 2.5 hours of extraneous physical activity, and Sharon didn’t even break a sweat, her breathing remained normal, her heart rate didn’t change. But most dancers can’t do more than 5 mins of intense dance, and this was 2.5 hours.

Don’t believe it… Just wait till you see the Video. And I SWEAR, I there is NO WAY THAT I COULD MAKE THIS UP!