What a month!

It's the last day, folks.

Of the month, that is. Not of this blog.

Nevertheless, it's the last day of this crazy month-long writing experiment. I do believe it was a success. I learned a few things from it, such as how quickly I can get burnt-out when I haven't written this much in two years. I learned that however short a post appears from my edit field, it looks a whole lot longer when published. I learned that videos don't get a picture preview when I share them on facebook (sadface).

I relearned that I still have a lot of improvements to make on being able to balance home/work/social life/personal projects.

And I'm consistently learning new and better methods of expressing myself in writing. Each sentence is an improvement from the last. It's a gradual uphill walk toward the pinnacle of communication. I may never reach it, but I will always take one step closer each time I write.

So, will I continue to update this blog regularly? I sure want to, because it's started me on thought processes that I want to continue in for a while. But I still need to figure out how often "regular" needs to be. I definitely can't do it every day like I did all of this month, because as the last two weeks have shown, I can't quite handle that continuous streak of writing. Once a week might be a good plan, for now.

So long, July. You've been good to me, but now it's time to kick back and relax a bit, satisfied in a job well done.

Who's the boss?

There's a new manager at work. This means lots of little changes to our daily and weekly routines, as the manager looks at our store from a fresh perspective - a clean slate.

It's got me thinking of some of Jesus' parables about landowners and vineyard owners. Several deal with the owner going away for a little while, entrusting his property to others, and then coming back and seeing how well his servants did in his absence.

When the boss comes back to work the workers must be on their toes, because any sign of slacking and the boss quickly cracks the whip and lets them know they need to speed it up. This isn't because the boss is a big ol' meanie and purposely chooses to only see the negatives, it's because the boss knows the status quo and what is helpful and hurtful for productivity.

When Jesus - rightful King of the Jews - came to earth He did not run things as the disciples hoped He would. He rode in on a humble donkey instead of conquering on a white horse. He made enemies of the religious leaders instead of sucking up to them to get their support. He ate with known sinners and those unpopular with proper Jewish society. He boldly told his followers to take up their crosses and follow Him.

Even after following Him for three years, the disciples still didn't understand what Jesus expected of them. After His death and resurrection, where did Jesus find his disciples? Some were hiding out, scared. Some had already returned to their old jobs! It had only been three days!

This is the struggle of every believer. What does God want me to do? What is His calling for me? After asking that question long enough and not being able to discern an answer... sometimes we want to just lay low for a while. Sometimes we go back to previous dreams.

But God has already called us. Our mission is to proclaim the gospel, making disciples throughout the world. Now, whatever way we choose to do it is up to our particular station in life and the unique opportunities given to us. Some travel great distances, others are able to share the gospel at home or in their local coffee shop.

So, back to those with the discouraged dreams, the seeming lack of communication from God. I've been there. In some senses, I'm still there... but I'm running back in the right direction every day. But just as in the parable of the vineyard workers, it's never too late. Of course, God never promises it will be easy. He's the boss, after all. It's gonna take work. If you shy away from God and then turn back to him, you won't always be comforted immediately. Sometimes it will be very hard to obey him and do what he wants. But in the end, it will be worth it.

I promise.

Irrationality

I went a little overboard with my reading today... but I found a lovely quote:

"We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect."

It's from "The Wise Man's Fear" by Patrick Rothfuss. Great book, so far.

When words fail...

I have a love-hate relationship with numbers.

They represent concrete and unbending reality. They cannot be bent or twisted. They must be used properly or.

But... it's still possible to play around with them. I can have a little fun by combining them into pleasingly palindromic groupings, or gradual progressions, or arranging them in a way that tells a small story.

I hated math, but I enjoyed equations. I got As and Bs in my math classes, but I did so only because I spent every moment possible in the learning lab. The most ironic part of my math experience: I hated word problems.

But numbers are a good and necessary part of life.

And sometimes, just sometimes, they can cheer me up more than any words can.

Today is the day that my published posts outnumber my unfinished drafts. I was actually feeling really bummed out tonight because I just couldn't seem to figure out what to write about. None of my drafts looked particularly doable, and my brain was on the verge of shorting out.

Then I looked at my post number.

37 drafts
37 published

And tonight, that changes to 38 published posts. All because of the cheering effects of numbers.

Boom goes the dynamite

Ever feel like you're making an absolute idiot of yourself?

This guy definitely knows the feeling:

Sometimes I feel like that, too. Like I've bitten off more than I can chew and each step I take is taking me further into a swamp that I can't get out of on my own.

I feel like this about some interactions with people I know. I feel like this when I get behind on my household chores. And I feel like this just a few days before completing this month-long challenge to myself.

Seriously, this last week and a half has been a struggle. I am having flashbacks to college midterms and finals. Each midnight deadline (or early evening deadline, on Sundays) is a race to the finish, but before I can even start, I have to find my shoes and socks!

But, maybe just like Brian Collins of Boom Goes the Dynamite fame, I will push through the horrifying awkwardness of my own inabilities and spew out an absolute gem that will be remembered years afterward.

I can only hope... and trust that I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me.

Sleeping abroad

You know the strangest thing I experience whenever I travel?

I sleep so much better.

It's like I barely hit the pillow and I'm out. Well, not literally. I still lay awake for a few minutes adjusting to how different the bed feels and comparing it to my own. But ultimately, I fall asleep much faster, move around much less (unless the pillows are wonky) and wake up feeling more refreshed and ready to go.

I don't entirely know why this is, especially since most people I've talked to say that it's far harder for them to sleep while traveling, because they're not in their own bed.

Perhaps I need a new bed!

Stop the presses!

I kind of wish they still said that phrase in the movies.

It's just so exciting.

It signifies the point in the movie when one of the journalists discovers news so important and groundbreaking that it must be published posthaste, or an error so terrible it must be redacted as soon as physically possible. But to publish the new and improved version of the paper, all of the presses must be stopped and all of the previously printed papers must be discarded so that the new facts can be inserted into the paper, and printed in their stead.

Stopping the presses gives newspapers the chance to change the front page before it gets sent off into the world and seen by everyone. And, hopefully

I get a "stop the presses" moment once in a while, right after I press the bright orange "publish" button.

But it’s not because of anything groundbreaking. No new information, no concrete knowledge of a grave error I must correct. Just a vague and inexpressible fear of having forgotten about something.

As I've mentioned, with blog posts, as with any other area of life, there’s always room for improvement. There is always a different way of wording my sentence, always more facts that I've neglected to mention or comparisons I've failed to make. Maybe there is a flaw in my logic, or I took a Bible verse out of context.

Simple fear can be incredibly debilitating.

So for the longest time, my presses were stopped. They stopped so long they became rusted! Then I gradually regained confidence, started writing new stories and oiled those presses well so that I could start it all up again. I’m not sure how often I will blog after this month is over, but I will definitely make it a priority to post regularly.

If I had the power, I would love to pause time so that I could get everything exactly perfect before the worlds sees it, but unfortunately that’s just not possible. Even if it were, it’s not healthy for me. I have to move on and keep improving every chance I get, but I can't just stop the presses for the fear of having made some sort of mistake. Mistakes happen all of the time, and what helps prevent them is not stopping doing anything, but actually becoming better at what you do so that mistakes happen less often.

Plucking, pruning, trimming, tweezing

Maintenance.

That's one constant of this world. One job God gave to Adam was to work in the Garden of Eden, to keep it maintained. Even an unfallen world benefited from maintenance. But after the fall, it needed maintenance.

Consistent work is required to keep many cogs in the machine well-oiled. You can't just buy a car and expect the money you paid at purchase to be the last you will ever pay toward that car. The car requires gas, oil, antifreeze, power steering fluid, wax, etc.

Likewise, we cannot expect the price Jesus paid for us to be with him and in him to be the only sacrifice ever made. Yes, it is sufficient for all. But no, it should not be treated as the be-all end-all of our relationship with him.

In the words of Titus 3:

... Be in subjection to rulers and to authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no one, not to be contentious, to be gentle, showing all humility toward all men. 
For we were also once foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving various lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another. But when the kindness of God our Savior and his love toward mankind appeared, not by works of righteousness, which we did ourselves, but according to his mercy, he saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly, through Jesus Christ our Savior; that, being justified by his grace, we might be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life. 
This saying is faithful, and concerning these things I desire that you affirm confidently, so that those who have believed God may be careful to maintain good works. These things are good and profitable to men; but shun foolish questionings, genealogies, strife, and disputes about the law; for they are unprofitable and vain. Avoid a factious man after a first and second warning; knowing that such a one is perverted, and sins, being self-condemned.

We must not return to the foolish, disobedient ways we behaved before coming to Christ, but in honor of His sacrifice, struggle to be gentle, humble and peaceful toward all. Doing good will certainly not save us, but will maintain our faith, just as a new outfit still requires cleaning so that it doesn't become dingy, or a new mirror still needs to be dusted or it will not reflect as clearly.

Get a workout!

A good dose of the scripture can be just as exhausting as a long workout. Case in point, check out the passage below:

1 Timothy 4:1-10

Now the Spirit explicitly says that in the later times some will desert the faith and occupy themselves with deceiving spirits and demonic teachings, influenced by the hypocrisy of liars whose consciences are seared. They will prohibit marriage and require abstinence from foods that God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth. For every creation of God is good and no food is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving. For it is sanctified by God’s word and by prayer. 

By pointing out such things to the brothers and sisters, you will be a good servant of Christ Jesus, having nourished yourself on the words of the faith and of the good teaching that you have followed. But reject those myths fit only for the godless and gullible, and train yourself for godliness. For “physical exercise has some value, but godliness is valuable in every way. It holds promise for the present life and for the life to come.” This saying is trustworthy and deserves full acceptance. In fact this is why we work hard and struggle, because we have set our hope on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of believers.

I don't know about you, but I'm still trying to chew on all of that.

Right now I'm just an awe of the striking parallels between the overhyped, under-studied health craze culture and the overzealous, under-trained faith-healing culture...

The health market rolls out a new wonder weight-loss drug every few months, which is eventually debunked. Likewise, a new false preacher comes around and convinces everyone that HE has an anointing, only to disappoint people when he can't provide what they need.

But what they NEED is Christ. How can they know Christ more? By reading his word.

And what do the wonder-drug consumers need? Exercise, a balanced diet, self-control and plenty of water.

But, hey - at least some people have the right idea - some people realize that they need to be trained how to improve their bodies, which is why so many personal trainers have a job.

If only spiritual training were quite as lucrative as physical conditioning.

There are a lot of trainers whose personal idea of success is different than what your body needs. Do you want to be muscular? Run fast? Emphasize curves? Become leaner? Each trainer will approach your workout plan from a different angle.

Likewise, my experience taking on a religion & philosophy minor taught me that each of my teachers emphasized different things as being more important to an individual's walk with the Lord. Some emphasized social justice, others emphasized total accuracy, yet others emphasized showing grace above all else.

But the important part is to make the effort and work out.

A better version of me

I mess up all of the time.

It's just a part of being a human, interacting with other humans, and dealing with the resulting issues. My besetting sins are a tendency toward stubbornness and avoidance of my problems. I have knee-jerk responses to conflict that have been ingrained in me since childhood, and I have bad habits that I've developed over the years. My faults are not hidden to me. The log in my eye is obvious. Sometimes, it's too obvious, and it feels like I will never overcome these flaws.

At times like this, the whole book of Philippians is an encouragement. But sometimes I need words and music combined. So, here's a song that has helped me quite a bit over the years:

Yesterday

Is not quite what it could've been

As were most of all the days before

But I swear today

With every breath I'm breathing in

I'll be trying to make it so much more

Cause it seems I get so hung up on

The history of what's gone wrong

And the hope of a new day

Is sometimes hard to see (what you see)

And though I'm finally catching onto it

And now the past is just a conduit

And the light there at the end is

Where I'll be

Now I have

All that I could ever need

The confidence of knowing there's still time

Time to make amends

And try to build a better me

And take the right steps as this road unwinds

But I'm finally catching onto it

And now the past is just a conduit

Right there at the end

Is where I'll be

Cause I'm on the up and up

I'm on the up and up

And I haven't given up

Given up on what

What I'm capable of

And I'm on the up and up

I'm on the up and up

Yeah there's nothing left to prove

Cause I'm just trying to be

A better version of me

For you

A better version of me

For you

You never cease

To supply me with

What I need

For a good life

So when I'm down

I'll hold my head up high

Cause you're the reason why

I'm on the up and up

Truth

Is truth universal? Objective? Immovable?

I believe so.

This quote from a Humans of New York post a few days ago was just too good to pass up:

"For example, the word ‘terrorist’ and the word ‘freedom fighter’ are used to refer to the exact same people at the exact same time. With everyone speaking differently, truth is almost impossible to agree upon. Yet believing in the existence of truth is the only thing that keeps us from devolving into tribal warfare. Because without the existence of truth, the person who is most powerful becomes the person who is right."

Beautifully spoken.

Come Thou Fount - a beautiful cacophony

I have mentioned this before, but "Come Thou Fount" is one of my all-time favorite hymns. Not only is the tune wonderfully melodic, but the lyrics have taught and continue to teach me many lessons.

One of these lessons centers on this line: "Tune my heart to sing thy grace."

What does that even mean? Is my heart a musical instrument in need of tuning? Well, possibly.

If you've ever been to an orchestra, you'll be able to relate to the following story I once heard about some ethnographers (anthropologists) who took a man from an african tribe to see a symphony.

The anthropologists were curious to find out what he thought of western music, having never heard it before. After the symphony, they asked him what he thought, and he said that his favorite part was the very beginning. They wondered if he meant the overture, and he said "no, no, the very  beginning!" Finally the ethnographers figured out what he meant. This tribesman's favorite part of the symphony was listening to the orchestra tune their instruments.

I don't know about you, but my reaction to that story was, "well, of course!"

It makes sense that he would love that part the best, not just because it's closer to the style of music he'd grown up with, but because there really is something quite awesome about hearing a whole orchestra tuning their instruments.

In a way, it's very personal. As you hear each instrument squeak and complain as it is being tuned, you get to know what that instrument sounds like apart from the crowd. You also hear how each musician deals with the limitations of his instrument, as you hear one squeak too high, and seconds later, you hear it again in perfect tune. Some instruments never seem to falter, but their players still tune them. Each musician performs an accidental solo before the almost-attentive audience, and yet that solo is still just an echo in the cacophony.

But not all cacophonies have to be ugly. As oxymoronic as it sounds, a little bit of cacophony can be quite beautiful.

What does pre-concert tuning possibly have to do with Christianity?

I think it's a great metaphor for our life with God.

If heaven is the symphony, imagine this life on earth as the practice before the symphony. God is simultaneously - he's omnipresent, after all - the conductor of the orchestra and the player of each instrument. And each of his instruments is one of his disciples, submitting to His will as he faithfully tunes each and every one of them to the perfect pitch they need to be to perform.

The most wonderful part is that in contrast with a symphony on earth, our heavenly symphony - our life after earth - will never end!

The Story Thief - a personal account

I have an addiction to consumption. To be specific, I'm addicted to the consumption of stories.

It's the same with TV, movies, webcomics and books. If the creator crafted it well and I care what happens to the characters, I'm in. I'm gonna follow that story for the long haul to see how it ends. I have gotten so involved with some TV shows that if I had a whole day free, I binge watched as many episodes in a row that I could, barely taking breaks to eat and go to the bathroom.

Stories are one obsession of mine that I will never give up, because many times, they point to the one true story. It's the story of how Jesus came down to earth and sacrificed his own innocent life for me just so I could spend eternity in joyous communion with him instead of in agony without him.

Still, with all of the reasons I have to love stories, I cannot create them. I've tried, many times, but I don't have the creator's spark that many authors are gifted with. I have friends who are talented storytellers, and who can bring a character to life with a beautiful flourish. But my particular gift is only of a recorder and a philosopher. Creating a life - even a fictional one - is a task of high energy and even higher risk. And then, the author must risk that fictional life by putting it through the various trials that must happen in any story so that it eventually reaches its conclusion.

There are a few different plot diagrams out there, but this one is my favorite. It lists nine different plot elements:

This image is from criminalbrief.com. I own nothing. 

Elements three and five are the specific reasons that I cannot create a story, only interact with it as a viewer or a reader. There must be a conflict and there must be a crisis. This cannot be avoided, or the story ceases to be meaningful.

But, aside from the fact that I cannot create believable characters, I would never be able to put them through the stress that they need to go through to finish a story. 

And characters need to go through stresses to develop their character and become the heroes they need to be to bring the story to a satisfying end. It's an accepted reality of storytelling. Why do you think people love watching horror flicks so much? Personally, I can't stand the whole horror genre, but I think part of the attraction the audience has to it is that the main characters endure so much and yet they survive, almost unscathed. I think the audience wants to be just like those main characters.

And that's where my addiction comes to play. In my preferred genres - sci-fi, fantasy and adventure - I get to watch my favorite characters experience and react to amazing things, and I live vicariously through them. I admire Geordi LaForge's ability to show grace to anyone because of how he was able to overcome the limits of his own disability. I love the wit and sarcasm Jack O'Neill displays as he greets each new and unnerving situation on SG1. These characters have traits that I want to have myself, but by watching them, I feel as though I can be like them.

It's so easy to watch something and be amazed at other people's creations. It's so easy to read something and be moved by it. And it's just so much easier to consume than to create.

How did God do it all? I mean, creating everything out of nothing? Man, the energy that takes. It's mind boggling.

All I'm trying to create here is one blog post every day for a month. I'm not creating a story.

But perhaps I am living one.

Stay tuned for our next episode, coming tomorrow night!

When the writing gets tough, the tough call the writer a sissy

Here I am again, writing another post about the difficulty of writing a blog post every day.

How meta am I willing to be here?

Oh... yeah. That's kind of in my blog name. Well, I suppose it's appropriate then. Maybe I enjoy playing around with words so much that my brain doesn't want to work with them. Really, when I start digging around the corners of my brain for ideas, they do start piling up. But they're like freshly mined gems - they need to be polished. I've got to bring out all my fine-tuning tools to cut out the ugly parts and make perfectly symmetrical facets, so that they shine just right when the light shines on them.

Why is writing about writing easier than... writing about other things?

Seriously, this is getting redundant.

I'm so glad that I get a day off tomorrow. The past three days at work have really taken their toll on my brain. I've been working on a clean-up project, which is far different from my usual routine at work. It's mindless, repetitive and has given me a sore back.

Hmm. Kind of like mining for ideas. There's a similarity here. The one who mines isn't always the one who polishes, but I'll bet if he was, he'd at least take a slight break from the back-breaking work so that his hands would be steady and his eyes wouldn't be overwhelmed by the light.

Tomorrow will be a better day for writing, I just know it!

Courage: my draft in progress

How is it that I have 37 drafts and only 26 published posts?

Oh, yeah. 

Ideas are easy, but full on well-fleshed out concepts take quite a bit more work. 

It's been another distraction-filled day, and I've already made substantial progress on a draft I just thought up tonight, but I know I won't have enough time to finish it before midnight.

Well, at least I'm making progress with estimating the time it will take me to finish a post.

I'll keep working on it, and eventually, like a bicycle riding the same rough, rocky path every day, I will find my own smooth groove to ride on and avoid the gravel. And I won't find it randomly, because it's a groove I'll have hewn down myself by continually passing through.

That's how writing feels, sometimes. It's a little like riding a bike - I remember one time that I hadn't been on one for years, and was unsteady and wobbly, but then my body remembered what I had done as a child, and just like that, I was having a blast. It's so true: You will always be able to get back on the bike and ride it even after years of not riding. Likewise, before this June, I hadn't published a blog post for almost two years.

Two years!

Of course, I had tried. Many of my unpublished drafts were failed attempts during those two years of blog silence. A few of those drafts have actually been published this month as I finally gained the courage to flesh them out, rewrite or just plain edit them before posting.

And courage is what it takes, really, in any creative endeavor. Painting, drawing, sculpture, music, videos, poetry... 

It's scary to hit that publish button. It means that anyone can see my writing now. Anyone can find fault with it. But anyone can find beauty and truth in it as well, which is why I want to continue publishing what I write.

I'm getting closer. Closer to closing the gap. By the end of this month I should have more published posts than I will have drafts. And if that isn't the case, it won't be because I've stopped trying, but because I've had so many ideas I just can't finish writing them all in time!

As the song says: Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten.

Called to service

I need to confess something: I avoided a customer today.

This guy has been coming to the frame shop every couple of weeks for a while now, and each time he comes, he brings a few pictures with him and lurks around for a while, looking for standard-sized frames to put them in. Then he asks one of us to put them in the frames and install a hanger. That's not unusual, except that his M.O. happens to be using frames that are too small, which means we need to trim the pictures down before putting them in the frames.

Sometimes we're having a slow day and that's easy to do without feeling rushed, but sometimes it's busy and his particular needs feel like a burden. And sometimes, we have to politely decline to trim down his pictures - anything that is personally signed on the paper counts as original art, which we are not allowed to trim. It's a liability thing.

So whenever I see this guy come in, I brace myself to repeat the same things I always have to ask or tell him, like asking permission to cut down his picture or telling him that I can't because it's signed. And I have to say it with a smile, because this is retail, and I am representing the company when I talk to a customer.

So when he showed up today and began lurking around as usual, I looked anywhere but in his direction. I knew that he would find his frame soon, and I would be forced to trim down his picture and put it together...

Today, I just was not in the mood for that. At all. For some reason, just the thought of it made me feel weary.

But a stroke of luck happened: As he began to approach the frame table, another customer appeared with a pink ticket. Whew. A pick-up. Easy come, easy go. I almost jumped toward the other customer and took his ticket as quickly as I could. Then my coworker noticed the picture-trimming customer and went out to help him as I brought out the frames for my pink-ticket customer.

And you know what? My coworker seemed to truly enjoy helping this customer out. She trimmed his picture, asked him about it, made chit-chat as she installed his hanger, and sent him on his way a happy camper.

I don't think I would have made quite the same impression. All because I became weary of serving him as a customer.

There's a reason that retail experience is also under the category of customer service. And there's an equally good reason that it is called that - service. It's about the way we treat people. We are not to be rude or argumentative, we are to smile and be attentive, because we are there to please the customer.

As in customer service, so in Christian service.

Galatians 6:9-10a - And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone.

Christians are clearly called to do good and to bear each other's burdens. One way of doing good is helping those in need. And humans need a lot of help. I've been asked to help with quite a few things so far. Most of the time it's simple things like seeking advice, getting a ride or borrowing something. Other times, it's needing a place to stay for the night or for a few weeks. Sometimes it's money. Sometimes it's the promise of secrecy. Sometimes it's the guarantee of brutal honesty.

I can't say that I've always done my best at helping my friends and acquaintances with these various requests. Sometimes I'm just in a bad mood and don't feel like helping anyone but myself. Sometimes I'm just as I was today - weary of serving the same person in the same way again and again and not seeing any benefit to myself.

And sometimes, just like today, another will take on the task that I fled from and perform it with grace.

But that does not excuse my calling to continue bearing and sharing the burdens of my fellow disciples, and to not grow weary of doing good.

There's always room for improvement

Wow. "Weird Al" Yankovic has done it again - he's transformed one of the most disgusting pop hits in history into a scathing critique of terrible grammar and and entertainingly educational treat for grammar lovers everywhere.

If you have not seen Word Crimes yet, you must. I implore you to watch it now:

Even as a college graduate with a degree in Communication, I can forget some of the rules in this video, and it's quite refreshing to see them brought into the limelight so that more than just grammar nerds get the benefit of this deliciously clever parody.

Not only is it entertaining and informative, but it fits with what I wanted to write about today: becoming perfect.

Here's one way that this blog resembles my life: It's full of mistakes. Some of my posts were written in a hurry and are missing a word or two. Strange sentence structures prevail in many of my posts. But the amazing thing is that I can go back and edit these posts to improve their grammar and strengthen their meaning. As I do so, I make them more complete. But weren't they already complete? See, now that is the wonderful thing about both life and blog posts - there's always room for improvement.

No one knows that truth more than Jesus, which is why he encouraged us to become perfect:

Matthew 5:48 - "Therefore you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect."
James 1:4 - And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

Without going into an insanely detailed discussion of how Jesus made it possible for his followers to be perfect, I just want to remind you that he actually did tell us to be perfect. And James alludes to the way in which we can become perfect.

James mentions letting endurance work in us. Some versions call it patience. At any rate, it sure doesn't sound easy to become perfect - it sounds like it's a long, hard road to perfection. There's a lot of growing and changing involved. There's a lot of waiting on the Lord for direction. There are a lot of humbling moments in which we recognize our faults and give them over to God.

Becoming perfect means recognizing that there is always room for improvement. Becoming perfect means a life-long education, in which you start to listen to others, learn from your mistakes, and constantly seek the Lord in prayer and through scriptures.

It's one thing to commit #wordcrimes, but it's quite another to commit #religioncrimes. Sometimes I get off-track in my walk with Christ, and need to be brought back to what the Bible actually says in order to clear any false ideas I have about how to live as an ambassador for God. It is those times when it's great to go back to the basics, the foundation of the Gospel, and start back on the path again - the path that leads to perfection - the path that leads to being complete in Christ.

Dancing with God

Color swirls around her as dancers move to and fro. The room is filled with the dulcet tones of "In The Mood," and a man approaches her with one arm held out, palm up, to receive hers. He asks her, "would you care to dance?" 

Excitedly, she obliges, and the two make their way to the dance floor, hand in hand, pausing only to catch the rhythm of the song before starting in on the familiar pattern of east-coast swing.

One, two, rock-step.

One, two, rock-step.

One, two, rock-step.

And so on.

These steps, the foundation of east-coast swing, provide the rhythm for their dance. But the man who leads and the woman who follows provide the interest of the dance. The man's part of the dance is to be creative, pulling out all the moves he's learned so far and combining them into complex patterns to fit with the beat and mood of the song. The woman's part is to pay attention to what the man is doing, interpret where he is leading her and react appropriately. 

When both are performing their parts well, one song can be a symphony, a work of art, a pleasure to watch and even more of a pleasure to perform. The two are not just performing solos at the same time, but a duet that interweaves two unique people in a delightful harmony.

That harmony can be disrupted swiftly if either half of the duet fails to perform his or her part. If the lead changes his mind mid-move and decides to do a different move, the follow may not be able to interpret his meaning in time, and they stall. Or the lead may accidentally send a wrong signal and send the follow on a wild goose chase, which sometimes can be compensated for beautifully and incorporated into the routine, but sometimes can also lead to a stall. Or the lead may just fail to lead at all, leaving the follow confused as he dances around her, making her a backup singer to his wildly-vamping solo.

But I'm not here to teach the leads how to lead. I wouldn't know how. I only know the steps for a follow, and I know that the difference between a good follow and a bad follow is about being the perfect balance of astute and flexible.

If the follow is not paying attention, she will always lag one step behind. She'll constantly be surprised when the lead nudges her in a certain way that she wasn't expecting, and she'll stall, trying to figure out what to do. The couple pauses to regroup. If the follow is expecting a certain pattern of moves and the lead changes it slightly from the normal routine, she will first resist, wanting to go back into the routine, before finally realizing that the lead wants her to move differently. The dancers slow down slightly, readjusting.

But what if the follow pays too much attention to the lead, analyzing each way he tends to nudge her into a different move? She may get most things right, but eventually she will over-anticipate the lead's intentions and move before he sends her the signal. Now, when that happens, she has taken the lead for herself, and that can be disastrous. If the follow anticipates a move that the lead is not planning - which requires him to be there to brace her lest she fall - and he was not planning that move, she will fall. If the follow anticipates a move that requires the lead to move out of her path while she goes straight, she will bump into him. There will be stopping and mashing of toes.

The dance goes smoother when you don't anticipate and just wait for that clear lead. But it is also smoother when you are paying attention for that lead to come. Therefore the perfect way to follow is to combine anticipation with patience. And, well, sometimes that takes time.

Sometimes you have more practicing to do, get to know your lead better, but it definitely pays to learn to be a better follow.

Sound like anything else to you?

Jesus said to his disciples, "come follow me." So if I'm following him, and he's leading me, you could say we're dancing. And when we dance, he really is the perfect lead. He gives just enough of a signal and he knows what moves I know, so he won't lead me into something I'm not ready for.

But I like to anticipate what God has planned for me.

God moves in a certain way, that could mean he's leading me in one direction, so I anticipate that and start going there, only to realize that wasn't what he had planned at all, and now I've stumbled around and lost my rhythm, all because I misinterpreted instead of waiting for His clear lead.

Joy in the lost and found.

Have you ever been so devastated when you lost something, that when you found it you did a happy dance just because you were so overjoyed?

Friday night I almost cried. I published my friday blog, looked over the list of posts and saw something strange. Tuesday's post had reverted to a draft. Of course, I opened it up to check it out... it seemed okay, so I hit publish.

Then I looked back at my blog again and saw the last end of the post... which was from a previous draft. Uh-oh.

I clicked on edit directly from the bottom of the post (mistake) and then what to my wondering eyes should appear? The complete text to the post I had just published that night.

Seriously, Blogger was drunk that night or something...

But I really could have cried, because an overwritten draft on blogger, since it does not save previous versions like WordPress, means that the post was essentially lost.

Not to fall completely in despair, I called for assistance on the blogger help forum. Just today, someone replied and sent me over to feedly, where lo and behold, my original post from Tuesday was safe and sound.

Really, I am overjoyed. It's just one piece of writing. but I spent a lot of time, thought and prayer on it, and I would like to think that it will spark some theological thoughts in whoever reads it. It's not that it's so much better than my other posts. It's still flawed, with much to improve upon, and some of my other posts are more well-written. But those posts did not disappear - this one did.

I love living in the age of the Internet, where some things don't actually disappear forever. It may not have been a miracle that my post was recovered, but it sure felt like one.

So today's passage is about joy over finding what was once lost. The whole passage is just wonderful in expressing how God truly loves his children and when one of them comes back to Him, he rejoices. But for now, I will just quote one verse and link to the rest:

Luke 15:7

“I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance."

Fighting entropy

Good must triumph over evil. I'm pretty sure you'll agree with me on this. It's kind of a fundamental idea that society bases its morality upon... let's keep that as our foundation.

The "why" of this is kind of redundant to explain, so let's talk about the "how."

There are a few sayings on this topic that I feel are quite relevant. Actually, they could even be called memes, because they express the same basic idea. You've probably heard them before:

"It's always darkest before the dawn."

"Everything will usually get worse before it gets better."

"It has to get messier before it gets cleaner."

And that last one is really true. No matter how many times I clean and organize my room, it's always a complete mess when I'm in the process of figuring out where I want things to stay.

On a less boring note, it's pretty much the same as in the typical action thriller with a clever hero doing his best to try and stay one step ahead of the villain. Inevitably something absolutely terrible happens that you think the hero cannot come back from, but in fact he has foreseen it, and even planned for it to happen so that his own clever ruse can overcome the villain's schemes and save the day for all good people everywhere.

But here's something a little stranger than fiction:

I find it fascinating that the two times Jesus was the most distressed - the only two times that scriptures say that he wept - were right before his greatest miracle, and his greatest triumph. Even though Jesus fully knew that he could raise his friend Lazarus from the dead - and even though he knew right down to his core that dying on the cross would result in life for all of the elect - Jesus wept. He was broken and undone. But miracle of miracles... what happened next was the dawn.

My point isn't that good will eventually come out of evil, and order will always follow chaos. No, my point is that in order for good to come out of evil and for order to follow chaos, people must actively fight evil and chaos.

Rooftop Musing - I can't stay up here forever

Another perk of my rooftop: I live close enough to the baseball stadium that I can see a partial view of the Wingnuts firework shows at the end of their home games. Summer is a wonderful time to have this rooftop perch.

Sometimes I wish that I could extend this roof-ness to the rest of my life. I would love to be able to look at the road of my life with a bird's eye view, so I could tell what lies ahead. A different perspective on that road could give me new insight on where to go from here.

But it's too tempting to just stay on the roof, watching, aloof from the regular citizens milling about below. I would pretend they were part of a strange alien civilization and study the patterns they made as they moved. I would be lulled into complacency by the constant caressing of the wind, the sweet susurrations of the trees, and the nearly perfect incline to lay upon and watch the distant stars.

It's kind of like my own personal paradise up there. Not completely, because a true paradise would have soft cushions and a few plants nestled about (If I lived in a castle, I would decorate the heck out of its highest tower), but close enough to paradise that I visit there quite often.

But I can't stay in paradise forever. I do eventually have to get down, for practical reasons, like eating, sleeping, working, actually going places and doing things. Likewise, I can't stay in that rooftop-view of my life. I can't watch people from afar, trying to look at the big picture, instead of coming down and interacting with them.

The roof is special to me, but to stay special I can't be up there all of the time. It's a wonderful place to regain some perspective if I've lost it, and clear my head if I've filled it with useless junk, but I have to come down some time.

Also, let's be honest, eventually my butt will get sore from sitting on the shingles for so long.

Priorities versus procrastination

Here I am again, struggling to make my midnight deadline, having started writing at 11:30 p.m.

This has got to stop.

The days of starting an assignment just hours before it is due should have stopped in college. Well, really I should never have gotten into that habit. But I found that I could do it; I had a strong knack for spewing out what I was learning in a short amount of time with proper grammar. So I rode on that knack for the majority of my college career.

But the problem of only starting just before the deadline is that it's never guaranteed you'll actually finish by the deadline. Furthermore, what happens when you find yourself without a clear deadline on a project you do eventually want to finish?

Yeah. This explains my many unfinished projects... It's clear that I have a deadline-dependency issue. Not that deadlines are a bad thing. It's just that in order for me to function, project-wise, I must set clear deadlines for myself lest I leave everything unfinished.

So it's good that this month-long blogging challenge has built-in deadlines.  One post a day is my only rule - whether or not it was written that day - as long as it wasn't written after that day. So my deadline resets at midnight every day.

I think my problem relates to how I prioritize. I seem to make the deadline priority over the actual work. I'm so focused on what the finished product should look like that I neglect to actually focus on the process. Typical idealist... always stuck in the past or future and never fully present in the moment.

So, I'm going to work on that, starting with noticing things that I do in the process of writing and changing bad habits while keeping the good ones.

It's a work in progress, but I think I'll get this writing thing figured out.

No deadline needed.

Vapor

Let's talk about bubbles.

Take a moment and imagine you're opening a bottle of bubble solution. You pull out the wand, take a breath, and blow it out through the wand. Out come dozens of tiny, sparkling balls of refracted light.

They're so pretty, dancing around when the air current takes them. For a few seconds, your vision is dominated by tiny, round rainbows.

And then
one by one,
they pop.

And you're faced with a small, but crucial choice: do you dip the wand in again and watch the cycle of lively sparkles followed by swift deaths, or do you close the cap on it?

This choice can often tell a lot about who you are.

A child would not hesitate to dip the wand in again and again, prolonging the joyful experience again and again, cherishing the strangely hypnotizing choreography of the dancing bubbles. This child is not jaded and will say more, "more, more," until something else catches his attention.

Quite a lot of adults don't see the point of bubbles anymore. They have learned long ago that no matter how long they tried to keep just one bubble alive - through keeping it afloat by blowing underneath it, or catching it with the wand - that bubble will burst.

And something so beautiful cannot help but make us sad to see it disappear.

You see, life is a vapor. Every decision we make carries with it the potential for beauty and the potential for pain. Do I cease taking opportunities that could bring me pain?

Or do I dip in again, and try bringing more beauty to the world?

Red

Today had its own theme color.

This morning I woke up, took a shower and put on red earrings, red shoes and a red belt. It was my day off, so instead of going to work I went off to get my hair cut and colored. For several months now, I've been thinking of taking the leap and dying my hair. I've never had it colored before...

But today was the day.

I went red, deep red. My stylist gave me a shade darker than my original color with a few hints of violet. And I think it turned out splendidly.

But the day didn't end there. Next I went to the Red Cross for my blood donation appointment. Allow me to stand on a soapbox for a moment and encourage you all to donate blood at least once in your life, because the donation itself only takes about five minutes, and I am only a pint lighter and no worse for the wear at the end of that five minutes.

All of these occurrences of red throughout the day were fitting, I thought. Red is a fine color, and a wonderfully symbolic one, at that. Red stands for blood, for bravery, for all things brash and bold.

And what better act of bold bravery could it be than laying down one's life for a friend? Jesus, one who knew no sin, shed his blood willingly on a cross to atone for our sins. He gave his innocent blood in order to purify our tainted blood.

You could say it was the best blood donation ever given.

Even more so, his blood covers us... it washes over our blemishes and makes them clean.

Let me tell you something about my hair. I'm in my mid-twenties, but I'm already starting to find little white hairs on my scalp. But sometimes they are not all white! Some of them start out white on the ends, but closer to the root, they start growing in brown again. Sure, all hair is just dead skin cells, but white hair just looks more dead than the rest. It is a sign of age - a sign of being one step closer to death. But when white hair suddenly starts growing in with color again, it's as if new life has been brought to it.

Even so, my natural hair still had the odd strand of white in it. But with this new color, this RED color, even the white has been completely transformed. What was once dead has been made alive

It's kind of like the process of Jesus' blood sanctifying us and making us new creatures. Sure, we still might have the sinful nature, but it is transformed into HIS nature.

I was dead in my tresspasses and sins, and he made me alive again. Where I once showed the telltale signs of death, he covered me in his blood, making me like him.

This brings me to the Bible passage of the day: Ephesians 2.

And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world  ...  God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ.

Prove your words by your actions

I've been thinking about James lately. The second chapter, specifically, in which we find the famous faith versus works section. Most of the time this section is just referenced in arguments between roman catholics and reformed evangelicals, and rarely gets to shine in a spotlight of its own.

I've been thinking about this passage in a different way lately. James already spent the previous chapter explaining about faith, and pretty much summed it up, so why then does he seem to drop the topic, only to bring it up again a few verses later? I think it's because James is really talking about sincerity. I think he's warning us to not be the "double-minded man" he mentions in 1:8.

Double-minded. Doesn't that remind you of something? Double-mind, double-thought, doublethink, doublespeak. In George Orwell's 1984, the term doublethink was coined to describe the act of simultaneously accepting two mutually contradictory beliefs as correct. The concept is so wrong, and yet the practice is quite common. As a culture we are not centered on logic and reason, but instead have been overrun by the spirit of the moment, the feeling of "this is right, right now, even though it was wrong yesterday."

I had a discussion last week with someone who thought that words meant more than actions, because actions are just a "loud noise without context."

And so my next vocabulary word is an Orwell-inspired term: doublespeak. This is fairly self-explanatory. This is language that disguises its own meaning, distorts truth and reverses the meaning of words. And, I will add to this definition: doublespeak is sure to be present when one recognizes that their words and their actions are not consistent.

Consistency. It's more like a brother than a synonym to sincerity. But don't take my word for it.

Let's hear it from James:

     What use is it, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but he has no works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that? Even so faith, if it has no works, is dead, being by itself.
      But someone may well say, “You have faith and I have works; show me your faith without the works, and I will show you my faith by my works.” You believe that God is one. You do well; the demons also believe, and shudder. But are you willing to recognize, you foolish fellow, that faith without works is useless? Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up Isaac his son on the altar? You see that faith was working with his works, and as a result of the works, faith was perfected; and the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “AND ABRAHAM BELIEVED GOD, AND IT WAS RECKONED TO HIM AS RIGHTEOUSNESS,” and he was called the friend of God. You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone. In the same way, was not Rahab the harlot also justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out by another way? For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.

It's so easy to promise one thing in the spur of the moment, and then forget - like the double-minded man - to follow through.

My takeaway from this is that while I can't avoid some inconsistencies (such as a holding the belief that it is right and biblical to fast, but not having the self-control or energy to do it) in my life, I should still strive to make sure that my actions match up with my words.

As James said, faith without works is dead. So in my belief, words without actions are dead.

Eyes on Christ

A few days ago I briefly used the example of Peter's struggle walking on the water toward Jesus. So it's only fitting that the sermon I heard this morning was about keeping Jesus always in focus.

It's such a simple concept, yet so many people lose sight of Jesus so quickly, even as they share the gospel. Yet, the gospel is the good news about Jesus. Let's hear it from Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:

Now, brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand. By this gospel you are saved, if you hold firmly to the word I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain. 

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born.

And there's no easy way to top Paul in explaining this concept, so I'll let his words stand and just close with this encouragement: Let's remember to keep Jesus at the center of the gospel.

Rooftop Musing - The freedom of fireworks

Why can't every night be like this?

Right now I'm enjoying a favorite pastime - hanging out on my roof. Tonight is particularly awesome because my neighbors are shooting off all of their leftover fireworks, so I get to see some pretty flashing lights as I relax under the moon and stars with a cool breeze blowing through my hair.

I am extremely lucky to have roof with a view.

I've never been afraid of heights, in fact I've always wanted to get higher. A large chunk of my childhood was spent doodling in sketchbooks while sitting on the highest weight-supporting branch I could find on the big evergreen tree in my backyard. And this tree was pretty high - more than twice the height of my childhood home. I could see two streets away.

I suppose the only thing limiting me from going as high as I want to is money and IQ. I could never be smart enough to be an astronaut, and skydiving is super expensive.

I suppose it's fitting that I like to watch fireworks from my roof, because both roofs and fireworks symbolize freedom to me.

Roofs are without the limits of walls. I am free to see as far as my eye will let me in any direction I look. I am above the eyes of others - no one ever looks up these days when there are smartphones to check.  I can come and go freely, directly from my bedroom window, and no one can stop me.

Fireworks are just plain awesomeness in a box - a box filled with explosives, that is. Not only do they have years of tradition and lore connecting them with the birthday of the U.S.A, but they actually do provide citizens with a sense of freedom from the law. No matter how strict the ordinances are about fireworks, policeman will in most cases turn a blind eye (metaphorically, because of course they enjoy watching them too!) to breach of ordinance unless the fireworks happen to start a fire and cause a public hazard. Kids who are normally coddled and kept away from fire get to hold it in their hands, waving it around and making patterns as it sparks mere inches from their delicate fingers. Teens who are beginning to get a sense of the rules of society find themselves able to bend the law... and their parents don't seem to mind.

You see, both situations contain an element of danger if not handled safely, yet both can be quite exhilarating experiences even if one is ultra careful.

Freedom is a bit like that, you know.
It's scary. It's exhilarating. You take your own life into your hands and every decision you make affects its quality and length.

So here's to taking risks every now and then.

Come Thou Fount - My Ebenezer

Come Thou Fount is quickly becoming my favorite hymn. Not only do I have it memorized (a feat that I could previously only say about Amazing Grace), but I keep on finding new ways that it reminds me of my life.

Today's post is about verse two: 

Here I raise mine Ebenezer; hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home. 

Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood

What is an Ebenezer, and why would I raise it? The answer comes straight out of the Bible. Remember that Sunday School lesson from children's church? The one about Samuel hearing God as a little child and telling Eli that his two disobedient sons would die? Well, it's a pity the teachers don't usually tell what happened next to complete his prophecy, because it's a fascinating story.

It begins in 1 Samuel 4, when the children of Israel brought the ark of the covenant to battle with them, believing that it would help them win against the Philistines. The Philistines quickly figured out that the ark was on the battlefield when the Israelites gave a loud shout of joy. Because of this, the Philistines fought even harder than before because they were so afraid of being killed by Israel's God.

So, of course, the Philistines won because they were trying, and the Israelites lost because they mistakenly thought that having the ark was an instant win.

The ark was then taken as spoils of war, and Eli's two sons who had brought it to battle were killed. The next two chapters describe what it was like for the Philistines to have the ark in their possession. TLDR: If you plan to steal and keep the Ark of the Covenant, you're gonna have a BAD time.

Finally fed up with the tumors and famine the ark was bringing them, the Philistines loaded it up onto a cart and sent it on its way back to Israel, where more shenanigans happened, but the ark eventually made its way back home, where it stayed another 20 years.

But Things weren't quite done yet with the Philistines, and Samuel called for the entire nation of Israel to turn back to God, destroying their idols and repenting, directing their hearts to serve God alone.
This was followed by another battle with the Philistines, which the Israelites won, and were able to drive the Philistines out of the nation's borders.

When all this was done, Samuel set up a stone between Mizpah and Shen, and named it Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.”

So the story has a happy end and brings to the world a lovely concept.

But it was a hard lesson to learn.

Israel had idolized the ark, thinking that God's glory would follow it; not understanding that God's Glory was always in God's will, and God's will was for the nation to learn to trust in His will and not in their own plans.

God speaks to us in many ways, and one of the ways He's used throughout the years is symbolism. Representing a Kingdom concept with a tangible object does wonders for our flesh-based brains. Some of Jesus' most powerful messages were accompanied by physical works. Walking on the water, feeding five thousand, ordering Peter to use a shekel found in a fish to pay taxes... And, of course, everything he said and did during the Last Supper.

I find it appropriate, then, to use a tangible object to symbolize a concept in my own life.

Two years ago, on my 18th spiritual birthday, I went shopping with Jesus. Okay, I went shopping by myself, but since Jesus is in my heart, He was with me while I shopped. Anyway, I went to the mall with one goal in mind: find a special ring to represent my relationship with my Bridegroom, Jesus.

Not really a purity ring, but similar to a promise ring. But more than that, a ring to remind me of His continual grace and renewal in my life. A ring to symbolize in my heart that I have been spiritually circumcised, dead to sin but alive in Christ.

Sound familiar?

Little did I know it then, but Jesus sent me to that mall to get me an Ebenezer. A literal "stone of help" or "stone of remembrance" to wear on my finger and remind me of Him. I was just looking for a simple ring. I didn't expect it to have a stone... but when I saw it and tried it on, I just knew.

First, it was the teardrop shape, for the tears He cried in the garden. Second, it was the way it shone. Moonstone, if you are not familiar with it, reflects light in an unusual way. Instead of just glaring off of its surface, it looks as though the light is coming from within.

For the past two years, it has served as a reminder that my light always comes from Him, and He will always guide me to where I need to go. And when I worship to the familiar strains of Come Thou Fount, I literally raise my Ebenezer.

When ideals become idols: On confrontation

I had the day off from work today. I planned to do many things... and I actually got a few of them done, but this afternoon I had planned to build up a buffer of blog posts to help keep me on track this month.

Instead, I found myself writing a very long email.

It's a little ironic that I still spend a considerable amount of time writing today, but it just wasn't the kind of writing that you publish. This was the kind of blunt, straightforward, set-you-straight kind of writing that needed to be addressed between me and a fellow believer about certain actions that should or should not take place in certain situations between fellow believers.

It wasn't easy. But it had to be done. Sometimes even when two people believe in the same Savior, love Him with the same passion and have the same Spirit dwelling within them, they still have certain views of the world that can be obstacles to each other -- certain ideals that they've unknowingly set in another's path that can become a stumbling block.

I had to let this person know they were setting a stumbling block in my path, and I wasn't going to tolerate it.

So, while I wait for a response and pray that my message got through in a loving, yet truthful way... Here's to openness. Here's to honesty. Here's to sharing and bearing each other's burdens, even when it means letting someone know that something they are doing is affecting you in a negative way.

Grace and Peace,

Esther

Don't touch that dial!

Here's just a quick thought without any prior research or prolonged pondering to back it up: What if ADHD is a product of one specific component of our entertainment-driven society? What if TV is the actual culprit of distracted youth around the country?

Remember the days before Cable, when you would flip through the 5 TV channels during a commercial break to try and catch another show. Now remember the days after Cable, when you would flip through all 50 channels at least 3 times looking for something decent, because, "there's nothing good on!" Now remember the past 20 minutes you've spent on the Internet. How many tabs do you have open? How many tabs have you cycled through, checking on this web comic, that blog, this forum, that email... ?

We've learned to focus our attention on things in quick bursts, instead of long spans. I know I struggle with this constantly. It's one of the obstacles I have to pass in the process of writing. It's so tempting to avoid the uncomfortable task of rewording a paragraph, in favor of watching a funny YouTube video.

You see, this is only the second day of my month-long attempt to blog every day, and I'm already experiencing the flipping-through-channels phenomenon.

Luckily, I'm motivated to actually publish a blog post tonight... so I haven't been switching tabs, but I've done something a little more time-consuming.

This is the third topic I've started to write about tonight. I saved the other two as drafts, and may yet develop them as full posts, but for one reason or the other, both ideas just didn't have that extra "oomph" to keep me going. I ran into trouble wording a sentence in one. The other had a faulty assumption that I couldn't figure out how to approach from another angle. I just couldn't stick it out and finish either one. I wanted to move on to something new...

What if my life were in danger?
What if I could drown when I lost my focus?

Man, if even Peter, while attempting to walk on water to reach Jesus, had a difficult time focusing on Christ when he was right out in front of him, just think of how much more difficulty we have with so much to distract us from Christ while we can't see him face to face.

Rediscovering words

After a long hiatus from blogging, and writing in general, I've decided to tell myself, "that is quite enough of that!"

I've also decided to listen to myself.

So there we have it, I'm going to try something that I last attempted three years ago: Writing and publishing a blog post every day for an entire month -- specifically, the month of July.

Why July? This time of year contains almost the perfect balance of free time, inspiration, energy, motivation, and events I'm actually interested in writing about. It's the halfway point of the year, which motivates me to get a move-on and make the rest of the year really count for something.

Call it my own personal blog writing month... or Peblowrimo. Um. Or don't call it anything.

Whatever you do, be prepared.

It's gonna be a long month!