On the metaphor of The Cue

Our weekend gathering at Westwinds is called The Cue.

In theatre, a CUE is a familiar term. Whether it’s a warning, a standby, or a go, the CUE tells us what happens next.

In music theory, a CUE is a guideline for instrumentation. It’s the “who plays what where” part of music. It can be a mark for improvisation of a specific instrument.

In the game of billiards, the CUE is what puts the game into motion. It’s the cue stick and cue ball that guide each ball into the pocket.

In motion picture film prints, the CUE marks a point on the reel when the film is ending and it is time to switch to a new reel to continue the projection.

In personal fitness, a CUE is a message given by a group fitness instructor to inform participants of upcoming sequences, such as a change in stretching direction, etc.

In technology, a CUE or show control is the linking together and operation of multiple systems in coordination with one another. An example of CUE or show control would be linking a video segment with a number of lighting cues, or having a sound track trigger animatronic movements -- or all of these combined.

In computing, a CUE (cue sheet, or cue file) is a metadata file which describes how the tracks of a CD or DVD are laid out. Cue sheets have a ".cue" filename extension. For an audio CD, a cue sheet specifies titles and performers for the disc and its tracks as well as the names of one or more audio files to be used (MP3, WAV, etc.).

At Westwinds, The Cue is not unlike all these things.

At The Cue (in The Cue?) we talk about new things, what’s next, where God is leading, and we fund dreams to shadow God in the redemption of the world. We listen to God and his word and we ask Him, “What next?” When we leave The Cue, we enter a world of possibilities. For the spiritually curious, the religious disenfranchised, the artist, the intellectual, and everyone in between—The Cue is a place to begin and a place to belong for your entire spiritual quest.

At The Cue, we are encouraged to find our part. Our special part. Sometimes, we play along as an orchestra, all parts scored. Sometimes, it’s our turn to break out in the solo—still in perfect harmony with the score but with our own feel, vibrato, style, and originality. As God made us—for His purpose.

The Cue is a place to go out from. In many ways, it sets things in motion. We gather. We disperse. We love on the world. We love on each other. We do something for the kingdom. It’s not just a place we go . . . to.

The Cue is about change. Originality. Authenticity. New life. Breath. Creation. Beauty. Seasons. We talk about where we’ve been and we talk about what the new season looks like. It’s a marker for us. Through series’, scripture, and seasons, one reel moves in to the next. We don’t just observe the movie. We are the movie.

The Cue is a place to check our spiritual health. To check our pulse. To stretch. To nurture. To learn new moves and routines. To learn how to create new healthy habits. To listen. To move. To tone. To feel the burn.

The Cue is about synchronization. The same page.  Multi-sensory followership. Responding to God in worship with all that we are—heart, mind, soul, emotions, will, intellect, attitude, finances, body, habits.

And, The Cue is a place to be with everyone else who contributes a track to the playlist. We are the soundtrack. You are the soundtrack. The only difference is, these files are constantly being rewritten, remixed, reproduced, fine tuned, and rearranged. It’s a living soundtrack.

Join us at The Cue.

The Weeds

excerpted from Life and Times of Billy Ryman, First King of America 

The farm flourished and the staff continued to increase alongside the profits. The north property was purchased for a small fee, and construction began immediately on a new home for Billy and his growing family.

During construction, a very old oak tree was felled to make way for the back bedrooms, and Billy decided to use the wood. The tree had been in that spot for generations, tall, thick, strong, and mighty. It only seemed appropriate to honor the tree’s memory in the house that now stood in its place.

Billy ordered the wood cut and set aside until the house was complete. Then he got to work. He sawed and hammered, cut and drilled, sanded and stained, until he had completed a coffee table of impressive size. 

He brought Sarah and his workers to the barn where he had constructed the table and had each of them carve their name into the legs of the table. Then he helped his worker, George, move the heavy table into his office in the new house.

“This table will stand in my office as a reminder of the great oak tree which once stood in this place, and as a reminder of all the people who have loved and supported me in this new venture,” he told George as they placed the table in the room. 

Near the beginning of the harvest, George woke up especially early one day and went outside. As was his custom, he began strolling the fields and wondering at the good fortune of his friends. But there was something troubling him as he inspected the long rows of tilled earth. He ran back to the house to tell Billy.

Flying through the heavy front door and bounding through the kitchen and the den, he found the boss in his home office. Billy was seated behind a larger-than-life wooden desk. It weighed about a thousand pounds, and he had about a thousand pounds of paperwork spread around him in a great mess. Panting from his run, George said, “There’s trouble with the field, Guv.”

“What’s that, George? What kind of trouble?” Billy asked, pulling the reading glasses off his face and fixing his eyes on his employee with concern.

“Weeds.” There was an edge of defeat in George’s voice, but Billy wasn’t one to react strongly before he knew the whole situation.

“We always have weeds,” said Billy calmly. “What’s special about these?”

“There’s a lot of ‘em,” George replied. He led Billy into the fields to see the truth of it. Everywhere there were heads of grain sprouting, there were weeds mixed in and among them. They were so thick, it was difficult to even see the grain in some spots.

“Didn’t you use good seed?” Billy asked his English friend. As he surveyed the damage to the fields, the sense of dread that had started in the pit of his stomach grew.

“Oh aye,” said George. “The best.”

“Then how has this happened?” asked Billy, fearing he already knew the answer.

“An enemy has done this,” George replied.

“What enemy?”

“I know not. But that doesn’t get so bad by its lonesome. Someone’s been helping that, they have.” Billy considered this possibility, wondering at his adversary. Who would do such a thing to him? To his wife? And why? “But look Guv,” George continued, his face brightening as he jerked a thumb in the direction of the troublesome fig tree. “Not everything’s a loss then, innit?” And, miracle upon miracles, the barren fig tree on the property had not only bloomed recently, but abundantly.

“I thought those bloom earlier in the year?” Billy asked. He knew he should be excited at this news, but the problem of the enemy who had sown the weeds gnawed at him.

“Soon as the leaves come you know summer’s here. But I wasn’t looking.” George laughed to himself. “I was too busy with the fields.”

Billy laughed, too, but he was forcing it. He was trying to think of who he might have wronged or who might hold something against him enough to damage his crops in this way. “Don’t pull up the weeds just yet,” he told George.

“No?”

“You may uproot the wheat, too. Best let them both grow until we’re ready to harvest, then we can get Claude to collect the weeds and burn them. He can store the wheat in the barn.”

The question of Billy’s enemy ate away at him, night and day, for many months. Though he racked his brain, trying to figure out who may have done this, he could not find anyone to blame. He was a fair and honest man, and he was careful to treat every person with respect. Going through the years in his mind, he remembered the uneasiness he had felt when arranging to purchase the fields from the previous owner, Mr. MacIntyre, but shrugged the feeling off. He had no reason to suspect the man. And yet, the uneasy feeling lingered.

That year, the farm suffered a painful loss due to the weeds, and it was a difficult time for Billy, his wife, and all of their employees. The enemy did not appear again; indeed, he would not reveal himself for some time, but his work was ever on the mind of the new landowner.

--------------

see: 

Matthew 24.32-36

Mark 13.28-32

Luke 21.29-33

and Matthew 13.24-30

POCKET GODS

Matthetes smiled as he jingled his new gods, jumbling them in his pockets like a

potpourri of coins and marbles.

His Dad had given him his first god when he was thirteen – just a man. His first god

was Ambition. Ambition had served him well, making him first in his class and head

of school, landing him great job opportunities and a bright future.

Over the years, he gave himself fully to the gods in his pocket but worried that something was wrong.

They didn’t work anymore.

Matthetes became disillusioned with his gods, then, and threw them all away. All his

life he’d wanted, then got, then lost, then got, then been disappointed by, his gods.

And now they were gone.

And he felt no differently.

So he went to get the new God he’d heard about put into his heart.

The surgery was invasive, but didn’t hurt as much as he’d anticipated.

The ritual was spooky, but it was the good‐spooky

            (more mystical, less haunting).

The alchemy was almost non‐existent, though everyone attending assured

Matthetes that a transformation had – in fact – taken place.

As he was completely emptied out of all his Ambition,

            his love for Flesh,

            his addiction to Media,

            his fantasy of Fitness and Diet and Novelty;

                        as his need for the pocket gods vanished Matthetes was left with only

                        one certainty in all the world.

The God in his heart would always continue to grow.

And from that central truth he took strength.

The God‐in‐his‐heart grew – and so would he.

That was the turning point – working together with the God‐in‐his‐heart,

cooperating with the God‐in‐his‐heart,

Matthetes began to learn about achievement without pride,

            love without lust,

            pleasure without novelty,

            health without anxiety,

            economy without greed,

                        friendship without agenda…

His whole life was different.