Joseph or Jesus?

Is the story of Joseph the story of my life?

He was a man built of great physique and looks; God places him at the right hand of the Pharaoh. I can confidently answer that He has imaged me to be the first but He hasn’t necessarily used me like the latter. As I communicate with God, I have to be careful – my heart sinks into the riches of Joseph’s position- to be a godly man in an ungodly world. So when I communicate, I often wonder if my heart’s dwelling is more about wanting to be like Joseph or wanting to be more like Jesus.

My communication with Him is thought out and pre-planned; I need to pray and when I want to pray I often get in the way of Him wanting to lose communication for the sake of intimacy. He’d rather hug me than lay a list of doctrinal rights and wrongs; within His hug He knows that he points towards discipline and love- the discipline to turn away from sin and head towards Holy union- His covenant is my strength for love and to love.

My prayers are often a boring tv episode or a rewatched movie- even when the climax hits, you already know what happens; you’ll be less willing to watch it the next time, right? Don’t you think God might feel the same way? In my trials, I call; He answers. But what if prayer was so intimate EVERYDAY. Intimacy is not stale bread; it is manna that falls fresh each day; intimacy is awaiting the mysteries of God; intimacy is declaring that He is good even during hard times.

Joseph communicated with God; there may have been intimate times; But I see a clear winner- Jesus communicated intimately at all times. He was in the presence of His climax at each moment; He chose to be wholly intimate with His father- was that to gain a political or social platform? NO! If anything, that made Him lose all political power and social credibility. Lord, I apologize for envying Joseph more than declaring Jesus in this modeling industry. I choose to be like Jesus.

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One Attitude

Bus 156 takes me through the Lincoln tunnel and travels north to my stay in Fort Lee.

It’s important to have one attitude, and it better be the right one; having multiple attitudes hurt because then it becomes too much about the moment rather than focusing on the bigger picture. One attitude for one past, one attitude for the present and one attitude for one future – what is your attitude?

During my 8 months in NY, I’ve gone from having multiple attitudes to developing one attitude. I’ve become more enduring and persevering; I child’s pose into prayer each morning and night knowing that my repentant heart is so quick to callous while I’m envious to gain from the world instead of receive from the Lord.

Either gain multiple attitudes or receive one attitude. He had to bear the weight of the Cross and He had the right attitude as He did it. It wasn’t a sloppy performance and there also wasn’t a rehearsal leading up to His march to Calvary. He didn’t shrug his shoulders or roll His eyes; He didn’t fight back; He didn’t give up. He bore the responsibility and weight of His father’s heart; He was prepared for the moment- He was equipped; He was on His knees in prayer and when the time came, He had one attitude.

Father, your kingdom come
Your will be done
On Earth as it is in Heaven.

I walk to the bridge each morning; from there I look to carpool with strangers who drop me off at Washington Heights. I take the A train traveling south to my stay in Manhattan. Wherever I go, I want His attitude.

I need Jesus

My ways are tainted. My lips spoke good but it becomes the same source of what speaks bad. I can be a better listener. Good listeners find joy in wisdom; great listeners apply wisdom. Either I’m doing good or I’m doing bad. I’m not crazy; I’m bad.

I scroll through the database of lust and find that I can do research- it feels good but I’m doing bad. I scroll through articles on CNN – I pray for justice; yet I scroll through my own injustice. Along this route, I will die – starving for attention and glory – starving to meet my wants and be foolish to let go of my needs. I have no option when I tune out of His spirit – I will die.

“There is only one joy that will consume like a fire in our lives” – PSAM. I need to forgo the joy that I think is good and actually consume the joy that my flesh knows is bad. I need Jesus.

I am not a Christian-slave in Rome; I am not kidnapped and plastered with bullets by ISIS because of my faith; I am not the beheading of Kim Jong Un’s evil plans; yet even in my privileges the joy of the Lord is still so shallow in my journey – I lust in cycles and breathe His spirit in cycles. It’s the cigarette smoke to my lungs- if I don’t quit now, my spirit will blacken and at a certain point, I will fade into the second-hand of a deadly kingdom. Satan wants to me to be faithful to these cycles.

I’m not crazy; I need Jesus- not in cycles but in the constant during the busy and the slow, in the eventful and mundane, and in my worship and silence before the Lord.

All Net

I’m writing when I’m very insecure; I’ll get far in life.

Madmen’s cold brew has been sitting in my stomach for too long – I can’t fall asleep. Timothy Rosado, an emerging fashion photographer wants to develop me – he’s currently doing so for 3 models – all of which are females and only Somalia strikes me as that girl who can get signed in a heartbeat.

I do need to be developed though. My insecurities rise to the introduction of this next paragraph. I remember the night when I dove into that swimming pool. I still have an instagram pic to remind myself – the day before my accident I was sitting on the ledge of Grand Canyon; I took a selfie. The next night, I took a selfie; my nose was bandaged. I wonder when I’ll laser the scar off. I should have walked around with my nose shaded a little more than I did in the weeks following my injury. Now, I can I only a scar removal herbal cream that I purchased at Whole Foods. It should’ve been at its last squeeze by now. I was too lazy to take care of my face. Darn, why am I a model?

Luke 5 makes me think. Peter wasn’t fishing to catch itsy-bitsy sardines. No, he was catching Tilapia or the likes of fish that would make his time worthwhile. Jesus commands him to try again. I’m letting my nets down again – in this modeling industry I really have thoughts of going big or going home having caught nothing. I’m excited but also really sarcastic in response to my spirit telling me to stay in NY. “Oh, alright, I’ll let down my nets again”. Jesus, depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.

“Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men”.

Filter Me

Jesus, whatever and however you want me – I give my all to you. I am unfiltered.

Do I not learn? I am drinking unfiltered water- it is not quenching my thirst but actually depleting me from good health- I am attacking my own blessings and stirring controversy by being a hypocrite. I generalize women into the top models that I lust over – I am not praying in support of Emma Watson’s speech at the UN today; instead I am preying for the gorgeous into the gorge of my selfishness and my fantasy.

I stare too longly at the couple sitting across the room- they fit well into the mold of magazines and entertain themselves with ritz laughter. I dream too much without applying repentance- I repent for idolizing beautiful babies – I wish they were my own- I creep into the vanities of today and seek the drug of wonder for tomorrow- am I really living as a disciple? I hear messages but I flash into flesh – my prayers are a jolt of confidence and temporary surrender – I act sporadically from listening to Bethel radio to the desires of my eventual death.

Jesus, I need you. I am wounding from my own stabbings. I’ve poked so many holes at it- yet, the trickling blood is channeled towards you. Lust is not life and it is not the means to which I receive grace – it is the antagonist in this play- I become a tragedy when I inject myself with poison- Jesus’s blood was not of the same color- His was pure.

Lord, whatever and however you want me – I give my all to you. I am filtered.