Keefer's [G]odyssey

Real Beauty

2009-10-04T16:58:00.000-07:00

Beauty, REAL beauty!
like the spotless work of God in the life of a young woman.
Beauty that can make the eyes well up and the spirit sing.
Perfectly un-marketable, as if at the hint of salary, it flees,
like a rain or breeze insulted by Glade or the thought of time.
The beauty that clings to righteousness and collects in waiting.
It grows by faith that the ache of the incomplete, is not all there is.
It happens freely when redemption is lived freely;
it happens when we participate in the divine nature.
It is the combat of corruption.

2009-03-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

Josephina:
Preciosa en los ojos de Dios.
She sees only shadows.
¨Yo tengo ochenticuatro años.¨
Her family can´t care for her.
¨Estoy mal en las piernas.¨
Old ladies are cute.
¨Señor, ayudame con un pancito.¨
I didn´t understand all that she said.
¨Con gusto Señora.¨
But I gave her the coins in my pocket.
¨Gracias Señor, bendiciones de nuestro Padre.¨
I walked a few steps, hesitated, and turned around.
¨Tenga Señora, es diez.¨
I lent against the church wall and asked her her name.
¨Josephina...¨
I tried to carry a God-glorifying conversation.
¨Eres preciosa en los ojos de Dios...¨
Until we were interupted
¨Disculpame Señor, No soy de aqui, prestame 25c por el bus¨
We politely wound down our conversation.
¨Mucho gusto, y Dios te bendiga.¨
But she asked me for more.
¨Pero, Señora, ya te regalo diez.¨
I gave her one dollar more, she asked for two.
¨Adios Señora.¨
I walked a block and stopped.
¨Eres preciosa en los ojos de Dios.¨
Why shouldn´t I give her all of it?
¨Eres preciosa en los ojos de Dios.¨
I walked back as I stuggled with the numbers.
¨Sea generoso en todos los ocaciones.¨
When I arrived back at the church steps she wasn´t there.
Josephina es preciosa en los ojos de Dios.

Bogota

2009-02-26T07:04:00.001-08:00

Bogota

City of souls

7 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0

Indigenous, European

struggling, and hoarding.

Drug barrons and bakers

somehow doing life together.

Cocaine used to hold sway,

war and terror used to hold to people,

until God heard the crys of his people.

The fear of God is replacing the fear of man.

Just men and women have taken power.

Years of entrenched unshakable problems are falling away.

The oppressors are loosing their grip on the hearts of the captives.

Why?

Because the Church is being Church, and letting God do His thing.

2009-01-13T07:54:00.000-08:00

Well I guess I don´t have ¨The Moses Anointing;¨

my ¨sandals¨are worn-out,and that big old piece of water (the Caribbean Sea), that´s keeping me from my destination still won´t get up out of my way.

But ja know what? Manna does fall, water does spring up and infirmities are overcome.

Part of me doesn´t want to recieve help, I want to work for what I get, I don´t want charity and I definitly don´t want to take from people who have less (which has often been the case on this trip). Is it a desire for uprightness or is it just pride? ¨We Cripps´don´t take welfare¨.

I have a great deal of respect now for my brother, he is a worker. When we were young he had a paper route and in highschool he worked for a freinds fathers renovation company. He worked and saved, setting his mind on the next goal- something worth while that he wanted to buy. I can remember just about every one of his purchases; a bike (that I actually ride today), roller blades, Star Trek merchandise. And he took such good care of his things; his bike always clean, his cards stacked and ordered, he would notice if I moved his firgures in the slightest way. Wow... I have a lot of respect for him.

I remember the day when I was given a compound bow with six graphite arrows. We had always been interested in that kind of stuff; Alex had made some decent bows, I have a lot of good memories of shooting arrows around in the back yard with him. I teased him about my new bow, along the lines of ¨Ha ha I gots one and you don´t.¨ The sharpest part of my taunt; ¨I never have to pay for anything.¨Did he ever get mad! What a jerk I was, but it was true. How true.

My life is all about grace. I was given everything. My dad has worked in a dark smoky factory since he was 19 so I could live the high life and have whatever future I desired. I never had to do a thing (I helped becuase it was fun). I was born privilidged. Why?

Now I come to the Third World on a trip which the people here could never dream of taking themselves, and again I recieve from them. This shouldn´t be comfortable, I shouldn´t be in the position of reciever here. I should be giving at least until we are on the same level. More.
People who eat rice and beans three times a day, every day, take me into their houses and treat me like a king. It´s not fair.

Without the God factor, it´s not fair.

The only difference is where I was born. My family and my country have nothing to do with my merit or worth. My life is all about grace, somehow I have to accept that. Soteriological lesson? I think so.

Part of me wants to work for everything I recieve. A big part, a good part. But if that´s the part I rely on, I am already decieved; can´t do it, it won´t cut it and I´ve already blown it.

Recently two different people whom I trust hear God have told me that I need to get ready to recieve wealth. !Ahhhh! Why? I´ve already got a ton, and honestly I don´t use it very well. I´m a little bit grudging. But my freinds were right on the mark when they heard that I wasn´t prepared to recieve wealth. I didn´t want it or expect it. Honestly, my heart is closer now to my teenage dream of living ascetically than it was before I knew Christ.

Recieving is tough. Asking is brutal. I have always been the kind of guy who would rather fumble in the dark or drive in circles for hours, than ask for help. Is that just pride? I want to say no. I just don´t want to burden anyone, ever. But, that being said, once I reach Peru, I´ll be running on fumes. That being said, I´ll be looking for grace.

2009-01-07T17:14:00.000-08:00

I wonder how many people have mused, written or sung about home.
I would imagine everyone who has ever left.

The only word I know in Gaelic is hireath, it means ¨home-yearning.¨
It´s a powerful emotion.

For all the beauty and grandure that I´ve seen in my life, I still pin for the banks of the Grand.

2009-01-05T17:20:00.000-08:00

These words that I have,
that have been floating around in my head for weeks;
They actually work!

They gain me passage into a foreign land,
they give dignity with charity,
they make the the girl at the cash register giggle
and they help me find my way.

They get me a room at a reduced rate,
They keep the deisel out of my tank
and get the right octane in.

The Spirit also speaks,
as some now know,
in broken Spanish.

Awkward as I am,
my halting use of what is theirs
puts me in my place,
even if they don´t deserve theirs.

What an inheritance.

2008-11-03T18:34:00.000-08:00

I used to doubt that we (human kind) had as much authority over creation as Genesis tells us we do. That is probably because it´s all screwed up and things don´t work as they were intended. But what does it now mean if Christ has redeemed all of creation? Somehow redemption of the universe has already taken place, that happened on the Cross, but the fall-out must still be in progress. For now it is the task and privilidge of the Redeemed to distribute the fruits of Christs once-for-all act.
(What follows might be taken as grounds for pride but I´m the first to make it clear that there is no merit or accomplishment apart from Gods gift.)
I just took authority over a 50lb male American Bull Dog in the midst of a freinzied fight in a dark corner complete with much blood, screaming and growling,

and he cowered at my feet.

I can tell you it wasn´t just the steel pipe in my hand that made him submit, if you´ve ever seen a real dog fight, especially involving a bred killer like a Bull Dog, you´ll agree that the outcome is almost exclusivly death. I´m still trembling. This is the second time I´ve been involved in a dog fight with large bulldogs. I pray that you´ll never have to test me on this, but you can pound on them for all you´re worth and they won´t let go. Something other than force or saavy happened tonight.
I´ve read the verses and I´ve heard more than a few sermons but now I can testify: God has given us great authority. We really have no idea of the depth of the riches that are ours as co-heirs with Christ.

2008-10-21T16:52:00.000-07:00

Ya know what? The one who made the universe loves ME!

2008-09-28T20:52:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my home.

Here is the front porch:

Here is the kitchen:

The living room:

Bed room:

The bathroom:

(JUST KIDDING- THAT IS SOOOOO GROSS!)

You see I'm what you call a "Rubber-tramp"
I have the open road instead of the 9 to 5,
I have a Coleman stove where I'm able to fry,
I've lost my shackles, and my spirit doth thrive,
I've left my familiar comfort
But the lack of those familial, does hurt.
My luxury now is a clean smelling shirt,
A spigot with space for my sudsy head,
And a sheltered place to make my bed.
My leg is sore and my arm is red,
But I have the chance to see the nations,
And to worship in sight of owls' silent predation.
The mutual benefit of random relations
Brings a new sense of love for the other;
Miles away I find sister, brother.
(Church ladies, I find, are quick to mother.)
But who are these people, from every walk and race
who welcome a pungent stranger and even embrace
Him as their own? Could it be that in him they see the face
Of the One who had the love to create?
Is this a step in the path of the One they emulate?
Isn't this the group that should break down hate
In every facet if its hold on lives and culture?
Our enemy is common; a lion, a vulture.
But does a scattered family have what it takes? Sure.
The potential is not ours, but from above,
To exercise the law of faith, hope and love.
Even when blemished clay is all we're made of?
This community, a collection of cups, is the design
of the Master; whate'er befall we'll do fine.
So, won't you join to strengthen this family of mine?

¿ Keith?

2008-09-06T11:08:00.000-07:00

Hi my name is Keith.

I’m 23.

I live in Brantford Ontario 550 meters from the exact spot I was born.

I grew up here

I went to school here,

this is where I learned to drive a screw,

and shoot an arrow.

My family

and friends are here.

I trained for trades,

and filled my brains nearby.

I am white,

healthy,

and advantaged in every way. But these things don’t define me.

Increasingly my existence is qualified by a mysterious connection of my heart to a supernatural entity that is forever outside of my comprehension and that I fumble to describe. I’ve never seen it and can’t explain it, but it exerts incredible force on a part of me, and in a way which, I don’t understand. But there is intelligence and compassion in it: life. . . personality. It has gained my trust and won my love, even returning it a thousand-fold. It has shown me truth and revealed His face.

This

Is the one I will follow through the storm, to the nations and to the grave. For He is worthy.